#and as if they would ever even look at the random teenage girl who plasters their faces all over her walls | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kanene-yaaay · 3 years ago

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Sentence Starter - Part 2

I decided to gather all my Sentence Starters in a post. This is the second round!

I know I already said thankys before but, really, thank you so much for your support, it means the world for me. <3

[~.~]

[Gee these covers are lumpy, better fix the covers up!]

"Gee, these covers are lumpy, better fix the covers up!" Mina wormed her hands under the giggly boy, fishing a loud shriek as she vibrated her thumb between his shoulder blades and her other hand squeezed his sides, resulting in a more desperate wiggling from her victim. "Squish, squish, squish the squirmy Ojiro to fix all the lumps!"

"I AHAHAM NOT A COHOHOVER!"

"Hmmm, I don't know if I am convinced," her eyes glinted when the blond arched his back and her hands immediately dashed to scratch his incredibly, horribly ticklish lower back. "I mean, why else would I find such a cute squeaky toy, oops, I mean, cover in my bed?" Bubbly squeals painted Ojiro's laughter almost as strong as the red that painted his cheeks as he shook his head, protesting.

"I ahaham not s-squeheheaky!" Mina's nails scribbled and grazed on his ribs, the quick, high pitched sounds that flied from his lips contradicting his own words. "That doesn't prove anything!" The tailed teenager managed to breath out before descending in belly laughter again.

His pink friend matched his laughter in response, slowing her silly tickly attack as tears began to form on the other's eyes, pinching and poking his tummy in order to keep the adorable giggles filling the air. The cute wiggles from him and his tail were a bonus, as well.

"Hard day?"

Ojiro nodded, a smile still plastered on his face.

"It was. Your behed is fluffyhihihi. Sorry fohohor intrudihihing."

She waved his worries off, "it's no problem! Just give me a warn next time so I won't lay on you again, okay?"

Ojiro snickered, remembering the scared screams from they both when a few minutes ago Mina decided to jump on her bed and didn't even realize the strange lump that was Ojiro sleeping under all the comforters and plushies.

"I will."

"Good." The pink haired girl then cracked her fingers, a dangerous smirk spreading on her face, probably an effect of being Bakugou's friend, and making goosebumps ran freely on Ojiro's spine.

"No no nohoho!" He shot his hands up in an a placating gesture, excited giggles already falling from his mouth. "I already agreed with you! Please!"

Mina pouted in faux empathy. "Sorry, friendo, but your squeaky squeaks and wiggly wiggley wiggles are just too much cute for me to not tickle you again!"

"Ihihi don't," a snort cut his sentence, "I don't dohoho any of that!" He says, in between his wiggles and squeaks.

"Well," She attacked his armpits, a blinding smile taking over her features as the other began to giggle and snicker non stop. "I am sure we can compromise, eventually."

[~.~]

[I wouldn’t say that with the position you’re in, star student]

"I wouldn't say that with the position you're in, star student." Sero grinned, the non said threat falling heavily between them.

Todoroki blinked, stopping his struggles to lay limply on the floor, still staring the black haired friend on top of him, the fake dagger pressed on his neck.

"It doesn't make sense." Sero threw his hands up, exasperated. Shoto turned to look at Momo, who signalized at Jirou to stop the filmation. "If he's just got into my house in the middle of the night to kill me how does he know about my grades?"

"Well, maybe you just look like a super genius or something!" The other actor retorted, shoving his face on his hands and then on the floor as Todoroki stared at him with an unconvinced expression.

"Or," Kaminari jumped in, ignoring his friends dramatics "he can be his archenemy, building his hate and revenge plan since Todoroki did.... Something bad at him in the school."

Todoroki piked up at the opportunity to put another conspiracy in the movies' plot. "That could make sense."

"Don't encourage him." Jirou smirked at the protesting 'hey!' shouted by the other, preparing another snarky remark before being cut by Momo's voice.

"We're not making any more changes on the plot. We will just remake this scene and then everyone can go home, okay?"

"I think Izuku would lose it if we asked for him to rewrite another part." Nods and mumbles of agreement to Sero's words filled the room as all the occupants remembered the boy's determined rant of why the dagger's blade shouldn't be completely straight nor silver. "Anyway, I still need to buy that new Fatgum's game that came out. Let's move on."

"I can't," the dual haired actor claimed, a blank face "you're sitting on top of me."

And, for a moment, as the pun sank on his friends' brain, only silence met him.

Then Jirou and Kaminari immediately broke in loud laughter, Momo hiding her own chuckles behind her hand.

"Oh my god," Sero bit his own laughter in order to try to look at least a bit serious as he attempted to glare at Shoto. "You think you are so funny, don't you?"

Smugly, Todoroki let the corner of his lips twitch.

"Let me help you to show what is funny, then!"

"Wait-" but he was too late, before the words even came out from his mouth Sero was already dancing his fingers on his sides, switching between squeezing them quickly to scribbling and prodding at his ribs, yelps and guffaws already spinning in the air. "Dohohon't! Wait, wahahahait!!"

The black haired friend laughed with him, his blinding smile and uncontrollable giggles being too much adorable to resist. "I think you actually meant 'I am very sorry for ever complaining about your great performance, my amazing friend Sero.', right?"

Todoroki shook his head, gasping and squirming harder when Sero experimented clawed at his stomach, a series of quiet nononono's and pleaseplease's spilling freely from his lips.

"Tsk. Not even close, man. But don't worry, we have aaaaall the afternoon." A snort escaped from Todoroki and he hid his face on his hands, making Jirou 'aww' and Kaminari shout a 'wait wait make he do it again!' "So take your time, OK?" And then, in a quieter voice "If I go too much far just hold my wrists and I will stop."

A barely there nod showed that the other had heard him, however, as his hands continued to hid his face, bright laughter and shy giggles still filled the studio for much more time.

[~.~]

[Oh yeah! I told you’d they’d win! Ha! Pay up, Midoriya!]

"Oh yeah! I told you they'd win! Ha! Pay up, Midoriya!"

"B-but this is not fair! Tokoyami bought the victory by offering to do Shoji's dishes! That is not a-!

"There is nothing against this in the rules." Tokoyami shrugged, still panting from the sparring. "And I just remembered there is Midnight-sensei's paper for tomorrow that I didn't even start."

"Sorry, Midoriya. But we will have much more training in the future, still, and your analysis really helped me! You're right, maybe starting to use some weapon, since a hand to hand combat can give my quirk some damage, will be a good advantage." The taller teenager waved at them, Dark Shadow mirroring him enthusiastically as they followed Tokoyami back at the dorms. "I should search for options before choosing. Thank you for the cheering."

Kaminari waved back before turning to Izuku, his smile getting bigger as he saw his protesting pout. "Aww, is someone angy?" He hugged him from behind, snickering when he saw a glimpse of a smile on the other's expression before an exaggerated frown took over, green eyes deviating from his teasing grin.

"I know you want to smile. ~" Denki delivered a couple of pokes on his stomach, an evil idea full of wiggly fingers and giggly squeals blossoming on his mind. "Maybe the 1-A sunshine need some cheering up after being such sore loser? ~"

Midoriya turned on his embrace, now being face to face at him, determination burning on his features.

"Maybe I do!"

And then he blew a raspberry right on that spot where his neck and collarbone met. A loud, surprised squeak answered him and he was quick to dig on Kaminari's hips, being so careful and so mindful to give plenty of attention and tickles to every sensitive inch of flesh, don't forgetting to still deliver smaller raspberries at random spots on the blond's neck, successfully ending with all his coordination to get revenge.

"Whahahahat!! That is nOT-" A snort, more bubbly giggles. "That is not fahahhair!!!"

"But you're helping me to cheer up. See, I have no more pouts and no more frowns thanks to you!"

"Then stop!"

Kaminari tried to squirm his way out of the ticklish embrace, finding that maybe bringing Midoriya to his lap when he decided to tickle-hug him wasn't his best idea.

"I don't know. I think I am still a bit grumpy..." He stopped his attack in order to gently trace that spot right on the blond's right third rib, drawing circles around it and trying to not giggle together when Denki's bubbly snickers filled the air. "Maybe you amazing laughter can help me with that!"

[~.~]

[You know, this fluffy duster feels a lot like your tail...]

"You know, this fluffy duster feels a lot like your tail..." Izuku said, thoughtfully, a particular idea shining on his mind that may or may not was inspired by yesterday's Great Tickle Fight.

"Really?" Ojiro, (un)fortunately, didn't notice the danger hidden on the smaller's words, petting the duster and the fluff on his tail for a bit in comparison. "It really is. But it's not stronger like mine tail!" He made a show of flexing the aforementioned, both chickling at his silliness. "Oh, are you going to clean the curtains? I can help!"

A plan formed on Izuku's mind. He controlled his features to not show the playful grin that threatened to take over his face.

"Yes. Could you hold that part right there?" He pointed to a high spot on the fabric. "I can't research it."

"No problem!" The blond smiled and did as asked, not realizing the way Midoriya stepped closer nor how his shirt exposed a small patch on his stomach with his new position. "Like this?"

"Yes!" Izuku, then, shoved the fluffly, soft, tickly duster under his shirt, instigating a loud squeak to escape from the other.

"Midoriya!!"

But he didn't let go of the curtain, a smile spreading on his face.

"Yes?"

"Dohon't"

The green haired boy slightly moved the duster, quick enough to make the bristles of the feathers to barely tease the skin, but only that. Another yelp and a few giggles leading Ojiro to try to hide his red face on his shoulder.

"Don't what?" He beamed.

A small shook of head, a shy giggle. "Ihim not falling for thahat."

"Aw. But I am going to tickle you anyway!" Ojiro yelped, trying to curl on himself, however immediately regretting his decision as the movement shot light shocks across his torso, every feather following his squirms. "Yes! I am going to tickle, tickle, tickle you until all those cutes squeals and nice laughter trapped inside are free. As a future hero, it's my job to help them!"

"Dohohon't say that word." His words were in vain, especially because now Midoriya carried that determined look, thoughts racing on his mind as his hands continued to keep the duster on the same place.

"Maybe I should try to tickle his stomach first? I could start wiggling the duster there and then change to his sides and ribs or maybe I could start on his sides and ribs going up and down a few times and then tickle his stomach as I change from a side to another. The element of surprise is always a powerful tool so I should always change from going extremely soft and low to more quick attacks! I wonder if I can try it on his tail too? I could-"

"Ihihizuku, please!" The one being called snapped out of his rambling by a very flustered, giggly Ojiro, who still held the curtains as if his life depended on it. "J-juhust do it already, plehease."

And Izuku was happy to oblige.

[~.~]

[As nice as this is, we really should get up]

"As nice as this is, we really should get up." Tokoyami said softly, patting the green hair of the head which rested on his shoulder, - it was really as fluffy as it looked! - almost snorting when Midoriya squinted his eyes at the credit's playing on the screen. "Everyone else already went to their room."

Izuku looked around, as if he just realized all his friends decided to call it a night when President Mic - who has been called both due his good taste in movies and to keep an eye on them and their ability to cause chaos - woke up half of the class as he fell asleep in a bad position and started snoring, accidentally activating his quirk.

"It's not-" A yawn cut Izuku's words and pulled Tokoyami away from his thoughts. "It's not a movie night if we can't watch at least five movies."

"Oh no, the horrible punishments that the Universe will bought upon us after such terrible offense. What we shall do in the face of that helpless fate?"

Midoriya lightly shoved him away, a sleepy smile taking all the seriousness from his frown. "N't f'nny."

Tokoyami started to softly scribble his fingers on the other's neck, following him as he tiredly wiggled away, no real fight on his movements.

"Then why are you laughing?"

"Tohohokoyami! Naha!"

"What? Wait... Is this the punishment from the Universe?" Maybe it was because it was so rare for his friend being this playful, or because the drops of faked seriousness painting his words, but Midoriya found himself giggling harder, a bubbly tittering escaping as the tickling traveled to behind his ears. "Giggling and wiggling until we inevitably give up and decide to watch movies until the end of our brief mortal existence, oh, the pain."

"You're so sihihihilly!"

"Me, the embodiment of darkness ‘silly’? Oh, Midoriya, what have they done to you?" His tune was bathed in faux pity.

"Plehehehease!" Tokoyami decided to travel to the smaller boy's sides, scratching and poking them lightly enough to keep the flow of airy laughter and rare squeaks as a reward for the sudden, quick pinches. "It tickles! It tickles so much!"

"The Universe is tickling you? Will the cruelness ever end? Ah, the struggles someone as ticklish, so, so ticklish as you must be going through... Do not give up, Midoriya!" He did his best to not huff in amusement as the aforementioned hugged him, hiding his face oh his chest and muffling his louder laughter due the teases. "Don't let its darkness to dim your light."

His fingertips grazed the back of his ribs, Izuku only giggled harder, "Okahahay, Okay! We- no, not there! - we can go slehehehep!"

Tokoyami stopped the light tickling, waiting for the moment green eyes locked on his before proceeding, a deadly serious gaze on his face.

"Don't." Izuku warned.

"But the Universe's punishment-"

"O-oh my GOD!"

[~.~]

[i did not say that!]

"I did not said that!" But the giggles were already spilling out.

"Yes!!" Izuku, the traitor, couldn't be any more happy, basically sparkling as the feathers of his wings fluffed up in amusement. "You did! You did! You did! I am totally going to do that, now!"

Kirishima was quick to retrieve a pillow and prepare it to a fight, pointing it at his guardian angel with a half groan, half giggle. "That is not fair, man!! You can't ask questions when I am about to sleep, I always say the first thing that pops in my mind!"

"It wasn't really my original intention," the angel smiled sheepishly. "Humans' need to sleep are still confusing to me... But!!" He crept closer, fingers wiggling. "That only means that when you said yesterday..."

"No."

"That you likes when I-"

"No!" Big smiles, small giggles. "Come on. Shut up!"

"-that you like when I tickle you-" The rest of the sentence was a squeak as the red haired boy jumped at him, his soft weapon firm on his hands, and both dashed across the room in a chase. "I knew it!" Izuku laughed, - laughed. Not shyly giggled or awkwardly grinned, - pleased that one of his theories about his protected human (and friend) was right.

Damn, Kirishima wanted to at least fake a pout and put on a real fight, but how could he when the magical being was acting so happily? When he was so full of joy?

That didn't stop him from tackling his friend on the floor, both rolling in a playful roughhousing and playing fair until Kirishima felt something incredibly, impossibly soft on his neck, wide eyes as he realized only now how Midoriya's wings were stretched around him, almost engulfing both beings on its length.

The soft feeling came back, now scribbling all over his neck, sending tickly shocks through his body and weaking his strength, something which allowed the other launch his arms around his waist, hugging Eijirou from behind and leaving him to freely stare at some free feathers that slowly swung on his direction, aiming for his tickle spots.

Izuku felt a bit worried when the human stopped squirming.

"If I last 30 seconds without laughing you will let me go to that Parkour classes on Monday."

"But they're dangerous," Eijirou interrupted him, "you can use your magic feathers."

He could almost feel the angel thinking, analysing his options.

"Forty-five seconds."

"I will get you back and ask Shinsou to help me."

Pout. "You're mean."

A feather wriggled on his bellybutton, cutting any snark answer that the human had to that.

More feathers appeared in front of him. Adrenaline ran on Kirishima's veins at the idea of his new challenge.

"Deal."

[...]

Sidenote: Shinsou is Kirishima's cat. He loves to randomly lay and nap on the angel, but for some reason his purring tickles Izuku. He likes to purr a lot. Izuku is almost sure the feline knows what he is doing. Kirishima think the whole situation is hilarious.

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maplecornia · 3 years ago

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chapter 6

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 1.17K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: i'm seriously considering uploading a chapter each day until I'm all caught up with all the chapters I have waiting. easy binge material lmao

“BigHit Entertainment.”

The whole place is intimidating. Big and looming, looking more like a corporate building than BigHit studio. Multiple people are roaming about, some on tours, others heading to work, each one looking highly qualified, mature, and confident.

They know what they're doing.

Do you?

Swallowing hard, you meet the building with a steady gaze, taking a calming breath before heading forward, and entering it. The revolving door swinging shut behind you, you come to a stop as soon as you enter eyes wide in astonishment.

Everything is pure white, or at least, shades of it. The walls are stone; cold, plastered paint slathered in every nook and cranny. The floors are made of smooth white ceramic tiles that have a thin glossy sheen to them, like marble in museums. The windows of the building are one-way, much like mirrors.

The light from outside mixing with the light on the inside walls creates a bright contrast that calms the nerves.

So many people are there. Tour guides leading small parties down the halls. Managers hurrying to and fro. Receptionists at the front desk taking multiple calls. People waiting in the waiting room near the entrance.

As you take it in, as you ponder at it, you can feel your own heart calm itself. Your heartbeat slows, and your breath evens out, the knot in your throat unwinding.

You find yourself at ease, despite the busy attitude of the place.

As though you belong here.

However, the stupor the studio has you in is quickly broken by a group of people who enter behind you.

They shove past you and you stumble a bit forward, caught off guard. They quickly murmur an apology before moving along. Shaking it off you take a deep breath, as you set your sights on the receptionist's desk.

You best get this over with.

At the thought of meeting Kim Namjoon, RM of BTS for the first time, you can feel the knot rewinding and wish you could just lose yourself in the beauty of the place once more. You know that's not possible though, you have to stay focused, you have to be aware of yourself.

Reaching the desk, you wait for the receptionist to notice you.

She holds a phone up to her ear, talking animately while she types something frantically on the office computer. You wonder if you should leave and come back a bit later, but her eyes glance towards you and she holds up a finger for you to wait.

You swallow hard, and nod, trying hard not to stare as you wait obediently.

She's quite pretty, her long dark hair tied up into a bun, few stranglers from a hectic day trailing down her ivory neck. She has a small face, large brown eyes accompanying small plump lips. Though she has done her makeup quite dutifully, it's obvious that she doesn't need it. She has the looks of an elegant porcelain swan, almost as though one touch would break her.

Sighing as she sets down the phone, she spins to you and smiles. It doesn't seem that sincere considering it doesn't reach her eyes, and you can tell she'd much rather return to her phone call. You'd hate to keep her from it so you hope you can make this quick.

"Hello!" she greets. "Welcome to BigHit entertainment, how can I help you today?"

You smile hastily back before pulling out your phone and bringing up the letter of recommendation that Jaejin sent you so that they wouldn't think you're a fraud.

"Hi." You answer back, trying to be polite nevertheless.

"I'm here, as the replacement for Mr. Kim Namjoon's assistant manager?" You show her the picture, approving your statement. Once she's done reading it, her eyes raise to yours, all hints of the smile gone. Looking at you with slight annoyance, she starts rummaging behind the desk, gathering a clipboard and a few pieces of paper.

"You were supposed to be here 3 hours ago. Are you aware of that?" she snaps, and you swallow hard, still upset about everything.

"Yes. I'm sorry, I...." you ponder over whether or not to explain it to her. "...it won't happen again. Please, forgive me."

What?

There’s no reason for her to know, and besides, she may see it as empty excuses.

You bow your head slightly to her, and she sighs, holding up her hand.

"Please don't, I'm not the one you need to apologize to." Slowly, you rise, nodding silently. At the sight of your guilty expression, she sighs once more, before smiling, this one real.

"But I wouldn't worry, Park Jimin makes the same mistake all the time, and all Mr. Namjoon can do is smile and shake his head." When you smile in disbelief, she presses her hand against yours, smiling softly.

"It'll be okay." You nod, and she pulls away, clearing her throat.

"Now, Mr. Namjoon is heading to a meeting that concerns BTS, so you'll have to wait a while. As you do, please fill out these forms, officially stating that you're taking the position of his assistant manager." You nod, taking the forms, and reading them over almost immediately.

"Do you need a pen?" the receptionist questions, and you shake your head smiling softly.

"No thank you...." peering at her badge, you smile before saying her name. "...Kim Jojo."

At first, she seems a bit surprised that you said her name, but as she turns to her badge, she chuckles and nods.

"You're welcome, please take a seat in the waiting room as you wait." You nod and step back from the desk, reading over the papers on the clipboard.

They are simple documents, ones that are required when getting a new job anywhere. Name, address, security number, things like that.

Sighing, you raise your head, turning around abruptly.

A little too abruptly.

As you turn and step forward, you crash into someone right behind you, the coffee he has in his hands exploding between the two of you.

You cry out in surprise, as does the random stranger, each of you rebounding off the other and stumbling back. Hardly any of the coffee falls on you, most of it spilling over on his shirt. He hisses in surprise, pulling the soaked shirt off of his chest.

Your eyes widen in shock and horror at what you've done and you immediately step back, placing the clipboard back on the counter.

"I'm so sorry!" you cry out, reaching for emergency towels that you keep in your satchel. "I wasn't looking where I was going and I...."

However, as your eyes catch a glimpse of his face, your words falter, your hand tightening around the towel.

You know those eyes, you recognize that hair, you've memorized the same curve of that jawline.

You hardly notice everyone else around you, how they begin to whisper about the commotion, as they all notice what you did.

Why wouldn't they?

Who would look away when the person you've spilled coffee all over is none other than...

Jeon Jungkook.

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: our first real encounter with a BTS member! isn't it exciting? chapter 7 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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loving-daisy · 4 years ago

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Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist

Chapter 4 - Little by Little I Fall For You

Words: 7.1K

Warnings: nosebleed, mentions of blood, scheming, pranking, angst, and fluff

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Love makes my mind give way.

“Damn Icestone. I knew you were smart but I didn’t know you were a genius at potions! That’s why you don’t write down on your parchment whenever Snape blabbers about his potions...you’re basically a master too!” George complimented.

The controversial human relations of Y/N Icestone hanging out with a Gryffindor, especially a Weasley, grew even more after the party held 3 weeks ago. After the stunt George pulled, the unfolded events were spread like wildfire. Rumor has it that George Weasley fancies Y/N Icestone. Apparently, Slytherin queen Y/N Icestone fancies him back.

Not an ounce did the Slytherin gave a damn to the nosey people chasing after her tail. However, somehow she was relieved. Because the event caused the couple to hang around more frequently. After George’s sudden confession, nothing really changed in their relationship. They remained as friends.

Except they were friends who walked each other in classes as they slightly brushed their hands against the other, friends who gave forehead and cheek kisses as a quick goodbye, and friends who stole glances at each other across the great hall. Yeah. Friends.

George and Y/N were currently seated inside the library, the ginger actually convincing Icestone to tutor him for their upcoming O.W.L.S. To be really honest, it's not like George had convincing to do. Y/N would have agreed anyways.

But what the Slytherin didn’t expect was to catch the Gryffindor alone. And early! The Weasley twins never parted. They were always attached at the hip! However, somehow Y/N felt giddy that she gets to spend some hours alone with George.

The Slytherin huffed to calm her rapid heartbeat so as to not make heat rise up her cheeks from the Gryffindor’s flattery. “What are you talking about?” She snapped.

George rested an elbow on their shared desk, his chin settling down on his palm as he gave the girl an astonishing look. “How ‘bout replacing Snape in the next few years, love?”

Y/N shrugged, turning her attention back to the open book to avoid getting lost at the boy's eyes. “I’ll consider. I do love potions afterall.”

George’s ear’s spiked up at the statement. He was really interested in knowing more about Y/N Icestone but he was having a hard time because she doesn’t really let people in. She was more of a listener. Whenever the two hang out, it’s always George who tries to keep the conversation going. He’d ask questions, get answers, but then the topic always comes back to him like a boomerang. “Well, then what do you plan after Hogwarts? Are you gonna enter the ministry? Be a healer? What’s your plan, Icestone?”

The Slytherin gave the boy a glare. “I mean, Y/N?”

Y/N places her quill down, turning on her sides to rest her elbow on the desk, mirroring George’s position. Humming as she had her eyes at the ceiling, briefly thinking about an answer to the question.

“Ministry? Nope. Healer? Sounds...interesting. Like I said, I really do love potions. Maybe a job that revolves around potions?” She suggested rather to herself before sighing in defeat.

”I’m not sure, George. My parents want to marry me into a family as soon as I get out of here.” She reasoned.

George rolled his eyes, the hand that had his chin rested being retrieved to slap the desk annoyingly which caused Madam Pince to give him a glare. George gave her a slight bow as an apology before ranting to Y/N in a more toned down voice. “Honestly, what is with Slytherins treating Hogwarts like a mating area? Marriage? We’re just teenagers!”

“I know!” Y/N exclaimed.

The ginger scoffed, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms against his chest. “I’m gonna make sure that my children get to do whatever they want when they grow up. Marry, go enter the ministry, work at Gringotts, anything their heart desires!” He confidently proclaimed, making the Slytherin spat a quiet and short giggle.

George immediately felt his pulse run faster with the sound. He froze in place, staring at the girl in front of him. Y/N noticed the sudden tension in their bubble, however, challenging the boy’s stare as her own darted at his. Their atmosphere became quiet. Quiet but not awkward. It was more like a comfortable silence. Just a Slytherin and a Gryffindor staring at the window’s of each other’s soul, trying to find ways to enter and be mates. Soulmates.

A few moments after their little staring contest, Y/N decided to break the bubble by whispering a question of her own. “How ‘bout you, George? What do you plan after Hogwarts?”

“Marry you.” George replied, not breaking his intense stare.

Y/N felt the familiar heat rising in her cheeks which made her feel a little embarrassed. For the nth time today, her heart was beating rapidly, intense like the sound of the drums whenever there was a quidditch world cup. Trying to hide her flustered self, she spat a demanding “What?!” earning a small laugh from the boy in front of her.

“Are you blushing?” He teased, a smirk plastered on his face as he pointed a finger at the girl’s face. “I just made your heart flutter didn’t I?”

The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes. “No. You’re really mad. It’s just the cold.” She reasoned. It was now the turn of the ginger to roll his eyes before getting ahold of the knitted material resting on his neck, unwrapping the soft scarf, and gently snaking it around Y/N’s neck, tucking her in.

The beating of the Slytherin’s heart went allegro. Heat crawling up her neck, to her cheeks, and to all over her face. Only this time, she failed to cover it up.

George had a finger raised, pointing at the girl’s face, still a teasing smirk plastered across his face. “You’re even redder than before. Don’t tell me it's the cold. You like me~” He sang, earning him a smack on the arm and a glaring Y/N Icestone.

“Shut up!” The girl demanded.

The boy huffed, decreasing the gap between their faces before muttering “Make me.”

Y/N decreased the gap even more causing their foreheads to touch. The couples face being inches away from meeting, the ginger feeling the girl’s hot breath against his which caused him to pull himself away and turn as red as his hair. “O-okay! Chill down Icestone!” He stuttered, feeling heat all over his body as the girl in front of him began stifling a laugh.

George groaned, crossing his arms against his chest as he huffed. Meanwhile, Y/N gave her head a small shake before turning her attention back to the essay that she was writing, a small smile on her lips as she read through her notes before jolting some sentences down her unrolled piece of expensive parchment. George just stared at the girl in front of him, his small pout being replaced by a grin as his thoughts consumed him.

If he was to go back in time and tell his 3-months-ago-self that he would be sitting with Slytherin’s pride and joy, Slytherin’s queen, the Icestone heir, the girl who often gave ice-cold glares to people who blocks her ways, and the girl who turned him and his twin little ginger kittens because of a miscalculated prank, he would probably think that he was mad. Not once did he ever think of hanging around with Y/N Icestone. Not once did he ever think of being friends with Y/N Icestone. Not once did he even ever think of developing feelings for Y/N Icestone.

George, however mentally scoffed at the last thought. If he was being honest, the task given to him by Fred keeps on slipping his mind as time goes by. He constantly had to remind himself that what he and Y/N have are not truly genuine. That he was just playing this little prank and Y/N must have been playing something on him too. I mean, a Slytherin couldn’t possibly think that a Gryffindor is worthy of their friendship, right? At Least that’s what he tried to convince himself. A game, George. A game. None of this is real.

“A joke shop.” He suddenly blurted out.

Y/N’s ears perked up at the small and random statement. Scribbling the last words of her generated sentence before turning her attention back at the ginger. “What?” She questions, confused written all over her face.

“Earlier, you asked me what I’m planning to do after Hogwarts. A joke shop. Me and Fred are planning to start a Joke shop.” He repeated, suddenly getting embarrassed at his confession which caused him to scratch the back of his head before turning to his still empty parchment.

With the girl still amused at the ginger’s answer, she was speechless. I mean, she didn’t expect George to go beyond the box. She knew that Fred and George were huge pranksters but she didn’t know that this was how serious they both were with it. She was stunned. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but the Weasley twins have just earned her respect. However, far inside the back of her head, she was jealous. The twins had freedom. They could do whatever they want. She, however, had to reach her family’s expectations.

On the other hand, George felt Y/N’s silence suffocating. Merlin, she might think it’s stupid. I mean, she said she wanted to have a career centered around in potions. I want to have a joke shop. What a joke, I am. “It’s stupid, I know but —“

Y/N quickly brushed her thoughts away, moving in her seat as she placed a hand at the back of George’s neck, pulling him before slamming her lips against his.

Before George was able to return the force, the Slytherin pulled away, retrieving her hand back and staring at the boy with narrowed eyes. “What was that for?!” George asked, stunned.

“To make you shut up.” George’s face went as red as a tomato, however, still confused by Y/N’s reaction towards his chosen career path.

The girl glowed a big grin, pointing at the boy’s face like he did to her earlier, deciding to tease him. “Now look who’s blushing.”

The Gryffindor let out a forced cough, swatting the Slytherin’s hand away from his face. “Shut up!”

Y/N stifled a small laugh at George’s reaction, thinking that it was actually funny to do the teasing. So this was what George felt when he was teasing me. She thought.

Finally getting back to her more composed self, she stared at the pouting boy gently, her eyes like a doe, innocent and genuine. “That’s amazing, George.” She complimented, making George sit up straight and have a shocked look on his face.

“Really?!”

“Really.”

George grinned so wide that his teeth could blind a passerby. “So is this some sort of approval that you’re going to support me and Fred’s joke shop?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Y/N asked, an eyebrow raised towards George for the what she thinks is a stupid question.

“Because it’s stupid?” George suggested, causing Y/N’s raised brows to furrow as she crossed her arms against her chest, ready to give him a small lecture.

“Shut up, George! It’s not stupid! If you’re really passionate about running that shop, then go for it! If it’s your dream, reach for it! Run for it and don’t stop until you get there!” She demanded.

“But people say-“

“Who cares what people think, George? Are you really going to let other people’s opinion define who you are? Who you want to be? Don’t listen to them. Do whatever you want. Just ignore and go on your own way.”

After Y/N’s little words of wisdom and affirmation, George was left speechless, completely melting from the girl’s words. George was amazed. He was glad and giddy. After numerous times of sharing his career choice to his friends, not once did he ever receive a reaction like Y/N’s. His friends would laugh it off, thinking that it was probably going to change once the twin’s reach their seventh year. His friends didn’t take him seriously. Even his own mom couldn’t believe him!

“Wow.” George mused. Y/N looked at him, her head tilting as she examined his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I just fell in love with you.”

____________________

Fred was seated on top of his bed, rolls of parchment on his left and a box of different sweets on his right. He was monitoring him and George’s products, evaluating on which one they should release next.

Noticing that his twin wasn’t on his own bed, he looked around the room, rolling his eyes and forcing a rather loud cough when he saw George about to grab the handle of the door. George, failing to escape quietly, faced his twin, a guilty and apologetic smile plastered around his freckled face. “Hey...Freddie. You seemed busy so I didn’t really want to disturb you…” George reasoned, earning a scoff from Fred.

The older twin dropped the parchment he was examining to cross his arms, raising a brow towards the younger twin. “George. Piece of advice, you shouldn’t be snogging someone else if we are to go on with our plan against the ice queen.”

“Snogging? I’m not snogging anyone.” George denied, both hands in front of him as he held out all five fingers, as a sign of defense.

Fred rolled his eyes once again, clearly not believing George. “Oh yeah? Well then where were you last night? And the other night? And the other night too!”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” The older twin repeated before giving a scoff. “I’m not stupid, George. At least not THAT stupid to not notice how you have been sneaking around at night. And without telling me! Your own twin brother.” He exclaimed before placing his hands against his heart to feign an offended look, “You pain me, brother. What happened to telling each other secrets?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Fred’s hands travelled down his hips, a brow raising once again. “Playing hard to get, ey? What secret of yours should I reveal to the whole school right now? That one time when we were 5 and you accidentally-“

“Okay fine! But I was not snogging anyone. In fact, I was with Icestone. At the astronomy tower.” George confessed, a hand rubbing the back of his head, slightly embarrassed for revealing his and Icestone’s midnight escapades.

“Perfect!” Fred beamed. “I don’t know why you haven’t been updating me with our scheme when we’re a team...I really had to hear most of the stuff from the school gossip but it’s good to know that we’re still right on track!”

____________________

“Nosebleed nougat?” Y/N questioned the ginger in front of her.

A few nights after George’s reveal of his career choice to Y/N, the Slytherin wanted to get involved as an observer. She thought that the bewitched letters that spit water at the receiver was brilliant but she knew how it worked as she was able to bewitch hers into something that throws pie at the face. She did, however, wanted to see more, as the Weasley twins were really popular for their products. Therefore, she found herself in the room of requirement with George, who had a simmering cauldron in front of him.

“Yeah! Me and Fred's latest product. Only, I still don’t know how I’m supposed to make this. You see, Fred is more of the....plan generator. I am in charge of the execution. He’s the mastermind and I’m the...whatever you call it.” George explained.

“You’re the executioner.” Y/N suggested, earning a snort from George. “It makes it sound like I’m the one who’s going to punish a bad person.” Realizing this, Y/N started laughing, which George found infectious that made him laugh too.

____________________

“George, I got it! You have to crush the peppermint! Not put one whole but crush it to bits and pieces and sprinkle it around the potion!” Y/N exclaimed, quickly grabbing a peppermint and crushing it using a mortar and pestle.

A few minutes after watching George scrunch up his nose and think in his ginger head hardly on how to create the product, Y/N felt suffocated. It was painful to watch George casually throw ingredients into the cauldron without much thinking that caused countless explosions in the room. When Y/N stood up from her seat, George felt a pang of disappointment hit him as he thought that the girl was bored and was tired of him being unable to figure things out. However, he was surprised to see Y/N take off her Slytherin robes and roll her sleeves before grabbing an ingredient and staring at it, to think deeply.

George felt giddy once again. The only one who has helped him was his twin. No other person on earth got involved with their products when creating.

After Y/N letting the recipe cool down in a wooden pan, she took out a bunch and cut it into bite-sized pieces. She carefully placed it on a tray before offering it to George, who looked amused by Y/N’s work.

“It...looks like what I have here.” George stated, pointing at the tray in front of him, which caused Y/N to roll her eyes at him. “Yes but yours didn’t work at all. Your nose bled like...2 drops. Besides, yours are shaped like squares. Mine are diamonds. Bet you 10 galleons that mine would 100% work. I’m so sure of it. You have to test it out.” She demanded.

“Me?! No way! You made it, you go test it!” George exclaimed, causing Y/N to groan.

“No.” She remarked.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“George-”

“Alright, alright. I bet you’re just scared that yours would malfunction and that you think that it's better to be me than you.” The ginger pronounced, moving to set in front of Y/N to grab a piece before his hand was swatted away. George, confused, was surprised to see the girl having her brows furrowed, the tray settled down on a table as she chewed on her created sweet.

Almost immediately, blood started dripping out of her nostrils like waterfalls. Her eyes were wide and watery, tears threatening to spill from the pain she’s feeling. Turning around for privacy, she quickly covered her nose with a free hand before shoving the other side of the nougat on her mouth to stop the bleeding.

Moving to the table to retrieve her wand, she cleaned herself up before facing George with a grin on her face, who had his mouth open from utter shock. “It worked~” Y/N sang. “I told you so!”

For the second time this week, George was speechless. Not once did he ever expect for someone to willingly test their dangerous sweets. Not once did he ever expect for it to be a Slytherin, for it to be Y/N Icestone.

“Wicked.” was all that came out from his mouth, shaking his head from side to side as he gave the girl an applause. The grin on Y/N’s face remained as she curtsied, muttering cocky “thank you, thank you...of course I could do it. I am Y/N Icestone afterall.”

____________________

A few hours after creating more nosebleed nougats, George and Y/N were sprawled at the floors of the room of requirement, wrapping the sweet into its packaging as they quietly chatted.

“Hey, Y/N. Can I try something?” George asked, dropping the packaged nougat into his box as he looked at Y/N. The girl nodded, mirroring the boy’s action before facing him with a raised brow.

“So me and Fred have been practicing palm reading.” He announced, a small smile plastered around his face as he executed the little plan in his head.

Y/N gave him a look of amusement. “Palm reading?!” She repeated, earning a nod from George, who had a hand offered to Y/N. The Slytherin stared at his hand then to George then to his hand then back to George again, confused written all over her face. “Why?”

“Can I try and read yours?” George urged. Almost immediately, the Slytherin accepted, moving closer to George to let him examine her palm.

The ginger held it softly, tracing a finger at the lines of the girl’s palm, a determined look on his face as he squinted and pretended to understand something. “Hmm….interesting” He commented.

“What? What is it?” Y/N, who was curious, queried.

George put Y/N's hand on her lap, turning his attention on her doe-like eyes. “It seems like you’re going to be on a date this weekend. With a ginger Gryffindor in Hogsmeade.” He professed, the girl’s curious and expecting look changing into an amused one, realizing that George was lying and that the twins were not actually practicing palm reading.

The Slytherin put out a thinking look, looking at the ceiling as she hummed. “Hmm...Perhaps Ginny?” She said, attempting to tease George, who only ignored her.

Intensely staring at the girl with a hopeful look, George sat. “You and me. Hogsmeade this weekend. Please?”

Y/N beamed, nodding. “Of course, George.”

____________________

“So?” Daphne interrogated as she stood in front of Y/N who was seated in her bed, an innocent look on her face.

“So what?”

“What’s the tea?” Daphne questioned ever further, trying to get information.

Y/N glanced behind her best friend, to her fairy Mira, who was making tea for the both of them. “Uh...cherry and -”

“Not that kind of tea! The details! The 411! Hello? Has Weasley made you all dumb now?” Daphne conveyed impatiently, eager to get actual answers from her best friend who suddenly stays out of her room to go to unknown places. At least, unknown in Daphne’s knowledge.

“No! I am completely fine, Daphne.” Y/N suggested. The black-haired girl crossed her arms against her chest, a brow raised as she interrogated the girl in front of her. “You sure?”

“Yeah...just…”

“What?”

“I can’t help but think about George.” Y/N revealed, sprawling in her bed as she put an arm on top of her eyes. “He’s just...he’s amazing, really. He’s so thoughtful and he’s so smart, he’s funny, and he...treats me like a princess.”

“Everyone treats you like a queen, Icestone.” Daphne asserted, still having doubts at the Weasley’s true personality.

“Not him! People who treat me like a queen have other intentions with me. They either want to brag to other families that they got the Icestones on their side or just want a share with our family wealth! But George….he seems like he doesn’t care for any of those, at all!” Y/N articulated, dropping her arm as she felt Lixie lay on top of her.

“Are you sure, Y/N? I mean, don’t get me wrong but the Weasleys aren’t really on the wealthier side of the wizarding families…” Daphne carefully commented, carefully trying not to offend the Weasleys or even Y/N.

“Exactly my point! Those other families have been wanting more wealth and power from my family. They’re so greedy! I don’t think the Weasleys are like that at all. Besides, I met George, and of course his twin, Fred. I met their lovely sister Ginny who, by the way, adores Lixie! And Ron! I met Ron! They seem kind of nice.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, so?” Y/N asked, confused.

“So what are you gonna do then?”

Y/N sat up, her shoulders slumped as she sighed. She glanced up at Daphne who was impatiently waiting for her answer, before putting on a determined look on her face. “You know what, Daph? Screw the plan. I’m just gonna go with it and see where it takes me. I’m just gonna...fall.”

With Y/N’s answer, Daphne let out a small shriek. “Fall?! For Weasley?!”

“Yeah...fall.” Y/N repeated. “Free fall. And I’ll see where I’ll land.”

____________________

A day before the weekend’s Hogsmeade trip, the controversial duo agreed to not have their usual midnight escapade to the astronomy tower and to just get a good night’s rest. Besides, they are to spend the whole day together tomorrow after all.

Currently, the Weasley twins were casually seated in front of the fireplace situated in the Gryffindor common room, doodling on their piece of parchment for the next product they’re planning to create when suddenly, the entrance busts open with a small fairy followed by an enchanted trunk who was floating her. The fairy examined the Gryffindor common room in awe, foreign to the warmth as the Slytherin’s common room was usually cold. Once again scanning the room, her eyes landed to two identical redheads before making her way towards them.

“There you are! And here I was having second doubts if I would be able to find you. Good thing you’re both tall.” The fairy rambled, flying around the twins’ face as she spoke.

Fred, who was completely bewildered, spoke. “Uh...hi?”

“Oh! Hi! Apologies for my rambling. I’m Mira, Ms. Icestone’s fairy. I’m here to make a delivery? Which one of you is George Weasley then?” She inquired, her eyes moving back and forth to Fred and George.

“That would be me.” George spoke, curious as to why Y/N would send her fairy with a large trunk past 10:00 PM in the evening.

The fairy clasped her small hands before commanding the trunk to rest itself in front of George’s feet. “Great! Here!”

The trunk was as big as a treasure chest, jet black in color with silver linings, which made it look expensive. In fact, it really was expensive.

George knelt on one knee, his hand tracing the top of the chest before seeking Mira for answers “What exactly is this?”

The small flying fairy gave him a small smile, her small arms laid out as she presented the trunk to him. “I guess you’ll have to open it to find out.” She said. Suddenly, there was a soft meow near them.

Turning to look at the cat, Mira was delighted to see the familiar cat who sleeps beside her master, who was currently resting on top of Ginny’s arms. “Lixie! I didn’t know you were here! Sneaking out of the quarters again, I see? Did you ask Y/N’s permission?” The fairy asked, moving towards the Siamese cat as she patted his head. The cat gave another meow, which caused Mira to frown and scratch her small head. “Oh...yeah I forgot to wear my pin. I can’t really understand you, Lixie…”

Meanwhile, as George opened the trunk with Fred, he saw an emerald envelope sealed with the familiar Icestone crest in gold. He took a hold of it, opened it, only to see a card that had a brand’s logo that he never heard before. Princeton Perspicuous Potions. Turning the card around, he saw the familiar handwriting.

George,

For your future.

Icestone

George, getting more curious of the contents of the trunk, pierced down the trunk to see a brown briefcase. Pulling it out of the trunk, he set it on the floor and opened it. Only to be surprised to see a variety of ingredients for potion making.

The older Weasley twin then commented. “All this from Icestone? Damn, George. She’s mad. I think we shouldn’t continue on with our plan of breaking her heart anymore and just let her bring you gifts like this.”

Mira, who was gently petting Icestone’s cat in the arms of the female Weasley, snapped her head towards the direction of the older Weasley twin. Eyes about to pop out of her head as she felt shock all over her small body. The Siamese cat froze. Shocked of what has been spoken as well.

Meanwhile, the female Weasley glared at her brother, furious as to why they didn’t dropped their stupid plan yet. The cat was angry, spitting a few loud meows before hissing at the direction of the twins.

As if he was not paying attention earlier, the older twin was surprised to see the cat in his sisters arms, the fairy no longer in sight. “Where’d you get the cat, Ginny?”

“None of your business.” The youngest Weasley snapped before turning her heals away from her twin brothers.

“Feisty that little girl is.” Fred commented, shaking his head from left to right, Turning his attention back to George who was further examining the contents of the prestigious looking trunk. “What’s that?” He asked, however, getting no answer from George which made him move closer and see for himself.

“A cauldron...and gloves? Aprons too! For the two of us!” The older twin exclaimed. Inside the trunk, a medium sized black cauldron was unwrapped from emerald green silk. Unlike what the students of Hogwarts possess, the cauldron was thicker, shinier, and much more robust. Something that looked like Y/N Icestone’s own cauldron, based on what George remembers.

In another unwrapped silk, there laid four pairs of gloves. Two were made of the finest leather, brown in color, while the other two were made of rubber, plain white. Lastly, in the other silk, two brown leather aprons with a small printed “W” on the top right side were neatly folded.

George felt his heart melt. He couldn’t believe that Y/N Icestone would spend a ton of galleons just for him. Somehow, he suddenly felt guilty. Embarrassed of himself for numerous reasons. One of them for taking advantage of the elite Slytherin.

“Bloody hell, mate.” Fred, in an excited manner, was unable to prevent himself from cursing. “What did I say? Don’t break up with her just yet! Imagine the gifts she’ll-“

“Shut up, Fred!” George demanded, starting to get wrathful of his own twin.

Fred raised both his hands in surrender, backing away from George as he stood up, a serious and stern look on his face as he faced Fred. “Woah, woah! Calm down, dear brother. What has gotten into you?”

“I want to stop this, Fred.” George stated, Fred immediately understanding what he was pertaining to.

The older twin scoffed in disbelief, crossing his arms as he furrowed his brows. “This early? But she hasn’t even declared her love for you yet! I really think we should stick to our initial plan so that it could work like we planned to! How can we break her heart if you don’t even have it yet?”

“Breaking her heart would mean mine breaking too.”

Fred, still in disbelief but in a more softened tone and an open mind, looked at his twin with concern. “What do you mean, George?”

____________________

On the other side of where Fred and George stood, was the sender of the gift, Y/N Icestone in her nightgown, seated on her couch in her own quarters as she read her transfiguration book. Hearing the noise of her door opening and closing, she looked up to see her personal fairy, who looked as if she lost an intense battle. The 5th year closed her book, crossing her legs as she gave Mira a small smile, greeting her. “Mira. Glad to see that you’re back. Have you successfully delivered my gift to George?”

The fairy flew in front of Y/N’s face. This time, Y/N was able to see the troubled look on her face, as if she was having a debate inside her head. The Slytherin put her two open-palmed hands side by side, laying it in front of the fairy to motion for her to rest on it. Almost immediately, the fairy landed on top of it, kneeling as she placed her small hands on top of her thighs.

For a moment, Mira had her head laid low, before shaking it and finally giving her master an answer. “Yes, Y/N. I have. But -”

“That’s great!” Y/N exclaimed enthusiastically, drawing what she thinks was George’s reaction in her head. She imagined him glowing, his lips curled from ear to ear, probably boasting his gift in front of his own twin.

With the thought consuming her head, Y/N beamed. “Do you think he liked it?” She questioned. “You saw his reaction didn’t you? You were there when he opened it, right? You HAVE to tell me everything, Mira.” The girl added.

“Of course, Y/N. It’s wonderful! He looked really happy and thankful! Bet you my 8 sickles that he’s going to probably ask you to be his girlfriend tomorrow on your date!” Mira answered, feigning excitement before visibly frowning. The frown, however, was not seen by Y/N as she bursted up giggling for her happiness soaring, her eyes shaping into a straight line as she smiled so wide. “But I have to tell you something -” Mira, who hesitated, added.

Immediately, Y/N’s expression turned into concern, looking softly at her fairy. “Is everything okay? What is it?” She asked.

The fairy once again laid her head down, her eyes fixated on her small fingers as she played with them, fidgeting from nervousness and hesitation. Suddenly, she rose to her feet, flying towards Y/N’s closet before opening it to examine its contents. “I have the perfect outfit in mind!” She pronounced.

Y/N beamed once again. “Wonderful.”

____________________

The next day, George found himself parting with his twin at the entrance of Hogwarts castle, waiting for a certain Slytherin for their first date in Hogsmeade. There he stood in brown khaki pants and brown boots, a maroon white jumper inside a maroon winter coat, and a white beanie on top of his ginger head that matches his mittens and scarf, all hand-made, knitted by his mother. Hearing the sound of heels, he turned his head towards the sound, eyeing Y/N Icestone, who was wearing her own set of winter clothing, except it was colored in black and green. Offering his arm for Y/N to grab, the duo made their way outside, walking on the snow covered floor, heading towards the small wizarding village.

The controversial Gryffindor-Slytherin couple spent most of the day inside Zonko’s Joke Shop, George purchasing a bunch of dungbombs to replenish his personal stock, and Y/N grabbing a handful of sugar quills, one of her favorite sweets to munch on whenever the classes becomes too boring for her liking. The two were also examining the shop’s newly released products, taking some inspiration for Fred and George’s Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes.

A few hours later, the two felt like they needed to quench their thirst, so they headed to the Three Broomsticks, greeting Madam Rosmerta before placing two orders of butterbeer for them to enjoy.

“So…” George began.

“So…”

“I didn’t know you had a fairy...and a cat too” The ginger stated, trying to start a conversation, remembering last night’s encounter with Y/N’s fairy.

The girl raised a brow. “You...didn’t know I had a fairy? You’re not as observant as I thought. Mira always flies with me in the Slytherin table at the great hall. And a cat? My cat was literally with me when you accused me of ordering the Slytherin Quidditch team to defeat Gryffindor in a not so fair way.”

George, muttered a small “...oh” before laying his head low, embarrassed at the girl’s statement. Y/N, who immediately sensed George’s defeated state, looked at him concerned, feeling bad for not filtering her words. “You know...I can speak to Lixie.” She revealed.

The ginger looked at her, confusion written all over his face. “You...can speak to animals?!” He queried, suddenly getting interested in the topic. The girl gave a small smile before shaking her head. “Nope.” She said, popping the ‘p’. “I can speak to cats.” She added.

George placed an elbow on their table, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. “How?”

Y/N’s hand went to her neck, fumbling with something before showing George a silver chain necklace with a single diamond pendant hanging on it. The boy stared at it for a moment, before recalling what he and Fred were studying in their common room a few weeks ago.

“Icestone.” George, realizing, muttered. “That’s the Icestone mark or something, right? Of course, diamonds. Stones that looked like ice.” He worded, nodding to himself. However, trying to comprehend, he still couldn’t understand how a single necklace enables her to speak to a cat. Did all the Icestones know how to speak to cats? “I still don’t understand.” He confessed.

Still holding the necklace, Y/N pointed towards the diamond. “This, George, is the Icestone jewel. You’re actually right about that. However, I bewitched it. For it to enable me to understand what cats are trying to say. Brilliant, aren’t I?” She declared, keeping it back to the safety of her jumper as she saw their orders making its way towards them.

“You...bewitched a necklace? Honestly, how do you do that? Isn’t that advanced magic?” George asked, stunned. Y/N took her glass of butterbeer, taking a sip before answering the question.

“Well...when I was just a little girl...about 5 or 6, my mother and father hired private tutors for me to learn about magic early. You see, the Icestone family really takes academics seriously. We hold a title, and one single failure would tatter that name. That’s why they have a lot of expectations towards me...because I’m an only child...and apparently the next heir to our family’s wealth.”

“When I was 12, for my birthday in spring, I told my mother that I wanted a companion with me in Hogwarts. I think you noticed how I don’t just hang around with anybody. I’m really picky on who I make friends with...because of their true intentions. So you’re lucky, George Weasley, that I befriended you.” She added, George immediately feeling the familiar pang of guilt that he had last night when he received such luxurious gifts from the girl in front of him.

“Anyways, you know, Siamese cats often talk. They really have a lot to say! They’d tell you what they did during the day, what they’re currently feeling, and you know...stuff! And I was really frustrated that I didn’t understand Lixie. So recalling my past lessons with Mr. Princeton, my tutor, I remembered something about jewelries being encharmed and so I asked for his help and bewitched my Icestone jewel. The rest...well...is history.” Y/N said, concluding her little tale.

____________________

A few hours after continuously chit chatting at the Three Broomsticks, it was nearing sunset so the couple decided to go outside and just have fun in the snow and breathe some fresh cold air. Y/N, who was gathering snow to make large snowballs using her gloved hands, was trying to make a snowman that resembled Fred and George, planning to throw snowballs on it to tease the ginger. George, however, was the first to tease the girl, as he threw a small snowball at the girl’s face. Only, it wasn’t Y/N in a snowman form. It was really Y/N, the person.

The Slytherin gave him her signature ice cold glare, slightly scaring the boy with the look. At first, the boy didn’t take it seriously, but when the girl spoke, he felt his heart drop.

“You, George Weasley, is so gonna regret that!” The girl threatened before turning her heels from the ginger’s view, heading back to the castle.

George dropped his carved snowball, concern all over his face as he marched towards Y/N, who was stomping as she climbed the snowy hill. Thinking that Y/N must have been offended, the ginger started to plead for forgiveness. “Oh c’mon, love. I’m only jo--” The Gryffindor was unable to finish his sentence as he felt someone throwing a snowball at him from behind. Confused, he turned around, seeing nobody there.

He examined the vast space covered in white snow, looking for any signs of footprint, thinking that it could be someone he knew who was using Harry’s invisibility cloak, his own twin perhaps, but to his surprise, there was no trace at all. Suddenly, from afar, he saw a chunk of snow being lifted off the ground, carving itself into a big snowball. Narrowing his eyes to determine its cause, he was shocked to see the ball darting towards him, hitting him straight in the face.

Feeling shivers in his body from fright, with wide eyes, he turned his attention back to his date, who was on top of the hill, grinning at him as she had her wand pointed out. Realizing that it was the girl’s scheme, he felt competitive. “Hey! That’s a foul!” George called out, brushing the snow away from his face before grabbing his own wand. However, the grip he had on it loosened, as another snowball, rather a much bigger one, hit him again.

George heard the familiar sound come out of the girl’s mouth, her laugh, which only a few people have heard nor seen. He thought that he would be glad to be hit with a thousand more snowballs just to hear the angelic sound.

“Y/N Icestone!” He called, lying on the snow-covered floor due to the Slytherin’s countless and merciless snowball attacks. Y/N moved closer to him, a teasing yet innocent look plastered around her face before muttering “George Weasley.”

The sun was setting behind the girl, giving her a soft yellow glow. It illuminated her pretty doe-like eyes, shiny like honey and diamonds. Y/N’s lips were curled upwards into a small smile, the sun illuminating it as well, making it look pink and plump.

George sat up, stared at her eyes, placing a gloved hand on her cheek, leaning closer as he pulled her into him. Tension was filled in their atmosphere as their gap decreased even further, that their foreheads touched. It was as if it wasn’t 8 degrees anymore, feeling heat all over their bodies from the shared moment they’re in.

The Slytherin slowly closed her eyes, waiting for George to seal their lips together. She felt his hot breath against hers, feeling it’s warmth even more when the ginger muttered. “I fancy you, Y/N Icestone.”

The girl fluttered her eyes open, seeing the boy staring intensely at her, his eyes full of love and sincerity, his face showing a look of genuineness. Y/N gave him a wide grin, wrapping her arms around his neck, sealing the gap between them after muttering “I fancy you.”

End of Chapter 4

____________________

Tag list: @abrunettefangirlnerd @gloryekaterina @lilypad-55449 @memekingofwwiii @leovaldez37

Author’s note: Thank you so much for being patient and for actually reading my work! I really enjoy reading your comments~ Do put a lot on this one! It makes me motivated to keep on going :D

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marchioness-caprina · 4 years ago

Text

The Vampire And The Hawk

Pairings : Hawks x Student! Reader

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warning : Age Gap, Mild Cussing

Word Count : 2642

Note : In this Oneshot Dabi is Not a Villain since Endeavor is a Good Father in this AU and in this AU Hawks is adopted by the Todoroki Family so he's pretty much Endeavor's son now.

Note : Bare with Me. Your Quirk is Vampirism, So you have Midnight black hair and Crimson Red eyes on this Oneshot.

3rd Person's POV

It All started with a Mentoring Trial with Class 1-A . Everyone was hyped to know That The Pro Heroes Dabi and Hawks were assigned to their Class in teaching them how the actual field works while sharing their experience and giving advice to the Class.

Two people in Particular did not like the idea. The first one is undoubtedly Shoto knowing very well that his brothers will tease him nonstop and then there's y/n who really hated going outside because of her quirk. She hated the sun with all her being.

Her quirk is Vampirism, Meaning she pretty much has the Capabilities and Powers of a Vampire with a few minor upgrades but aside from that. She is allergic to Garlic and The Sun's Rays irritates her very sensitive skin.

And unlucky for her the training ground is on Ground Beta. Technically outside. It wasn't helping that today was extremely Sunny so now it led to her Bringing an Umbrella with her outside as she followed her class who were really enthusiastic with the idea of meeting two well known pro heroes.

" I hate this " Y/n grumbled and Shoto who was beside her couldn't help but agree.

" Come on you two! Be positive for once! Two of the most popular and not to mention good looking Heroes are here! " Mina cheered and she didn't get a positive reaction from y/n and Shoto.

Once they reached the middle of the training grounds they saw two figures standing there waiting for their arrival. One with blonde hair and the other with red crimson hair, similar to Todoroki's hair .

" It's Them! " Denki exclaimed and everyone came running towards their direction with delight and excitement leaving the two pessimistic people behind.

" Why does it have to be them? " Shoto growled.

" Why does it have to be outside? " Y/n grumbled.

" Hey! Slowpokes! You guys coming or what!? " Sero yelled at the two.

With a groan y/n slumped her shoulders hiding her face beneath the umbrella as she walked at an even slower pace.

She started cursing everything that lights up. Mostly the sun but within her train of thoughts she didn't notice a certain someone approach her.

A gloved hand grabbed the handle of her Umbrella yanking it away from her grasp and raising it above her head.

" Hey! What gives!? " Y/n hissed as she looked up , her red orbs clashing with a pair of golden ones.

" Kid, you're slowing Everyone down. Now hurry up! And stop walking around with an umbrella. Now's definitely not the time to be fancy " Hawks stated but his eyes couldn't help but admire the features of the girl before him.

Beautiful Midnight Hair with luscious curls, Big Crimson Eyes that stared right back to the depths of his soul, Delicate and Pale Skin, Captivating Lips that seemed to be Asking for his. It was actually too much because how the fuck is a First Year student so damn attractive!? .

" Excuse me? No wait.. Excuse you!? I am not being fancy you Prick! " Y/n objected his accusations while pointing at him angrily.

The man only chuckled giving her an amused smirk.

" Oh really? Then what's this doing here? Maybe I should throw it away " Hawks was about to do exactly as what he stated but he was stopped when y/n gripped his wrist.

She hissed at him showing her fangs and her red eyes glowed with menace, grabbing his chin with her free hand she forcefully turned his head to look at her at a very close and dangerous angle.

" I'm a Fucking Vampire you Little bitch but I must say. It's really bold of you to 'Tease' me but I warn you Not to do it... Don't tempt me" She whispered her lips inches away from his and he didn't know why he want to devour her lips in such a hungry way. Maybe it was because of how Suggestive her eyes are? .

Hawks's eyes couldn't leave hers the smirk on his face was long gone with his mouth slightly agape but he regained his composure and that same smug smirk from before came back to life.

Y/n rolled her eyes harshly letting go of his chin and snatching her umbrella away from the winged hero as she stalked her way towards her classmates who watched the entire scene unfold.

They were speechless because in their eyes their classmate pretty much owned the winged hero and not to mention they looked like they were about to tear each other's clothes off infront of them.

" Hawks.... I never knew you swung that way..." Dabi chuckled and the winged hero turned to him with a smirk on his face.

" I didn't know either " Hawks answered followed by a small laugh.

By now everyone was too shocked to say anything and y/n who had finally stood with her classmates gave a questioning look .

" .... I'm telling Dad about this " Shoto suddenly blurted out from the crowd and everyone turned to him.

" Shoto No... Unless you want me to show everyone what you did when you were 9 " Hawks threatened a sly smile plastered on his lips and shoto's eyes widened and it turned into a glare .

" You wouldn't " Shoto countered.

" Oh I will " Hawks Snickered.

And a glaring contest ensued between shoto and Hawks. The glares mostly coming from shoto though, since Hawks looked relaxed and unbothered.

" Ok enough you two. We're wasting Time here! Let's get started with training! " Dabi tried changing the subject and luckily everyone seemed to buy it.

_______________2 Hours Later

" So....Is it True that Vampires Can Turn into a Bat? " Hawks asked as he trailed behind y/n who tried her very best to ignore his random and very annoying comments.

Everyone was listening and watching their interaction from behind them after the physical exercise they did earlier and now they were just strolling around Ground Beta , The two heroes giving advice and telling the class their whole experience.

" If I could I would have turned into one and flew as far away as I can from you " Y/n snapped her eyes narrowed at his direction and Hawks put on a fake hurt expression that ticked the girl off.

" So... Can you Hypnotize people by Looking into their eyes like Dracula from Hotel Transylvania? Because I could get lost in your eyes forever " Hawks's Comments soon turned flirtatious and Dabi couldn't help but snort at how Terrible his brother was doing.

" If I could I would have hypnotized you to leave me the fuck alone and jump off a fucking cliff. Please stop annoying me, your very presence is pissing me off " Y/n growled glaring at Hawks who seemed unaffected by her words.

" Sheesh, your friend is really Harsh. Is she usually like that? " Dabi asked Shoto who gave him a shrug.

" She's usually like that when she's annoyed... Also because she noticed how bad of a flirt Hawks is " Shoto glanced at his older brother with a sigh.

Hawks leaned his head down over her shoulder from behind her as he glanced at the annoyed expression of the girl.

" So... Is it true? Some people on the internet claim that Vampires Sparkles--" Hawks was immediately silenced when y/n grabbed his cheeks and turned her head back to slam her lips against his in a dominating but lascivious kiss that got him going.

But the kiss ended a little bit too soon before he could even return the kiss.

" I didn't Know that the Pro Hero Hawks would actually Be interested in a Kid who's younger than him... Oh well I guess some people have nasty fantasies " Y/n's entire demeanor changed into a teasing and more playful.

The girl turned around completely her eyes hooded with an unreadable expression. Hawks's smirk began to falter as his eyes looked down to hers, His eyes flashing a hungry look.

He began to question his sanity. Was he really interested in a Kid? Well Fuck it. Call him sick but He is.

" Tell me Hawks. Wouldn't it be better to Have a woman instead of a Teenager? I suggest you start looking for one and stop playing Cat and mouse with a little girl " Y/n coaxed her index finger reaching over to brush against his lips.

Her soft skin touched his lips only to brush her finger down, staring at him with a teasing smirk on her lips, she kissed her finger that touched his lips before walking away from him.

" Holy shit.... What the Fuck was that!? " Dabi yelled and the class was rendered immobilized in their place and speechless.

Even Hawks was speechless as he stared at the retreating figure of y/n.

His emotions clashing with his growing desire for her and he knows he's pretty fucked up to like a kid but fuck everyone else he wants her and he intends to keep her.

" I don't fucking know but dude... I think I kinda got rejected " Hawks was finally able to answer but his eyes stayed glued to her figure.

" ... That was.... Highly inappropriate " Iida stated pushing his glasses back.

_____________________

It was finally lunch time and Class 1-A were of course in the Cafeteria eating.

However y/n who was happily snacking on her chocolate cake was bombarded with questions from her classmates.

" Y/n what the fuck was that "

" Do you Really Like him? "

" Oh shit that was so hot " ( mineta)

" Is that even legal? "

" That was not an appropriate interaction! "

" Guys Chill your tits. That was nothing " Y/n stated firmly but apparently she didn't notice that Dabi and Hawks were seated behind her.

" Was it really nothing baby bird? You wound me" Hawks frowned faking a pained expression as he placed his hand on his chest.

" Uhh yeah? " Y/n muttered unsure of what she should say.

" After that kiss? So now what? You're the type of girl who kisses me once and never again? " Hawks accused and y/n didn't really do anything to deny that which angered him but he was the type of person who had full control of his facial expressions and body language so it wasn't obvious but Dabi on the other hand noticed it clearly since he had known Hawks ever since he was a kid.

" That's pretty irresponsible of you Kid, Another rule of being a Hero Kids : Take responsiblity . And y/n you should take responsibility for stealing a kiss along with my heart " Hawks smirked poking her cheek.

" You know you're getting better at flirting...... Not " Y/n muttered as she scooped another small size of her cake pointing it at Hawks.

" Face it. I don't go for guys who are older than me. Sure maybe a year or two will be fine but more than 5 is a big NO NO. I like cute and young guys " Y/n smirked seeing Hawks's angered expression start to surface . Although his face was blank his eyes held anger and pain she kinda liked it.

She should probably start getting rid of her sadistic tendencies. She does like the Birdman but she wanted to tease him too.

Hawks was furious. He didn't really like how she got his hopes up and he wasn't the type to give up that easily. Now he was taught well and giving up is not an option. And the thought of her with another 'young' and 'cute' guy made his blood boil he wasn't that old but she sure as hell was making him feel like it .

He's an adult now but he doesn't know why he has the raging and jealous hormones of a teenager who foolishly fell in love at first sight. He's holding himself back from dragging her away and slamming her back against a random wall while kissing the hell out of her lips until she can't think of anything else but him.

You don't need a boy. Fuck it, you needed a Man and He was that Man. Because he'll screw up whoever tries to take his Baby bird away.

" Open up Hawks" Y/n cooed pointing her utensil at his mouth to which he replied with a glare and turning his head away

" Oh? You're butt hurt now and you refuse to talk? Ok then . Izuku say Ahh~" Y/n smiled as she turned stop Izuku who turned into a blushing mess while fearing for his life when Hawks flashed him a deadly glare.

" Come on Izuk--" Y/n was cut off mid-sentence when a gloved hand gripped her wrist and yanked her hand the other way.

Her hand now pointing at Hawks as he guided her hand up to his mouth. Opening his mouth he ate the small portion of chocolate cake on her spoon before letting go of her hand.

" I thought you didn't want to eat it? " Y/n raised a brow in amusement ignoring the intense stares of Dabi and almost Everyone in the Cafeteria.

" Oh, trust me baby bird. I'd rather eat you than any other treat in the world " Hawks grinned as he stood up bringing y/n along with him. On the other end of the table shoto was ready to cringe and Dabi held back a laugh.

" Hey Brats! Listen up! This girl here is Taken By yours truly! If any one flirts with her or even tries to take her from me... Good luck... You'll be at the Top of my list of people to eliminate ! " Hawks announced with a spine chilling tone making some people shiver.

Y/n was stupefied and couldn't utter a word.

Dabi was beyond flabbergasted he looked like a fish thrown out of the sea and directly onto the burning heat of a frying pan.

" What the hell? The fuck is wrong with you? What about your reputation?" Y/n gasped when she felt him cup her cheeks and kiss her. Right infront of everyone making the room tense up .

Y/n was stiff as Hawks let go of her staring at her with a grin on his face.

" Y-you.... " Y/n was speechless as a small hue of pink tinted her pale cheeks.

" Hawks you sick Fuck Get away from my student! " Aizawa said in fatherly tone and behind him were almight and endeavor.

" Young y/n! Is this true!? " Almight asked in disbelief.

" Well Keigo when do you want your wedding to take place? " Endeavor laughed staring fondly at his adopted son.

" Can I Marry her now? "

" Definitely No! Endeavor don't encourage him " Aizawa hissed and y/n who was too embarrassed to say anything kept trying to pry Hawks's grisly grip from her arm.

But in the end Hawks only pulled her forward pecking her lips .

" Don't try to run away from me Baby bird "

#bnha x reader #Bnha #Boku no Hero Academia #MHA #Takami Keigo #Keigo x Reader #Hawks x Reader #Hawks Imagine #Y/n

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moonlightjeno · 4 years ago

Text

ten things and then some | l.j

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: jeno x reader 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞 :: based on the poem from 10 things i hate about you if you haven’t watched it fo yourself a favor and go watch the movie bc it’s a m a z i n g. ty 𝕨𝕔 :: 15.5k this is the longest thing i’ve ever written wow. 𝕒/𝕟 :: y’all jeno fits the concept to this p e r f e c t l y, and no i am not being biased :) and a massive massive thank you to @smoljh for helping me and giving me feedback, you’re the sweetest. and ofc to my soulmate girl yk i love you to the moon and back, and i hope you enjoy this piece @mangotexts ( truly the best hype woman anyone could ask for ).

everything in bold is part of the poem, from “10 things i hate about you”

I hate the way you talk to me,

Sweetheart. love. angel. The words that spin from his mouth every time you hear him talk to you, made you aggravated. It was a constant stream of words that had begun as a prick of annoyance. Every time, he opened his mouth, looking at you with his dark brown eyes.

“Earth to y/n” the snapping of fingers disrupts your train of thought, eyes glancing back to the dark-haired boy on the other side of the school grounds, before landing back on your friend.

“What?” the words slip from your mouth with disinterest, a lack of concern for whatever your friend had been rambling on about for the past five minutes. The small amount of conversation you’d registered was she’d been talking about a party that johnny suh, school alumni, and constant talk around school grounds were throwing as a “welcome to the end of high school”. Though as parties went, you were almost sure that it would encompass school graduates, seniors, and the occasional sophomores and freshmen that would manage to sneak their way in, eyes glittering with excitement as they entered their first high school party.

“Are you coming?” her words were drawn out as if she’d ask you five times before, she might have, and it was only now that you had finally heard the question. The question slightly baffles you, because everyone in school knew you didn’t go to parties since freshman year.

“Uh, no. you know what i think of parties, they’re a waste. An excuse for seniors to think they're above everyone else, as they tell off the younger students that they’ve deemed aren’t ‘cool’ or mature enough, while the freshman walks around with some sort of desperate hope in their eyes as if the world will drastically change if they show up at a senior party. Someone should tell them” you say, looking past your friend whose excited smile has dimmed to a small frown, eyes slightly annoyed, something that doesn’t surprise you at this point. It isn’t a secret what you think of parties either, even if you are best friends with the queen of parties herself. You stop yourself before your eyes have a change of drifting to the brown-haired boy with a leather jacket that tends to sit by the foot of the football field, whom you can’t seem to find, probably smoking the thought is bitter and places a scowl on your face before you look back at your friend, “nothing changes''.

“Just once, one time is all i ask of you” the pleas that come from your friend make you focus on her, her hair is loose ruffled by the light wind that has blown over the course of your conversation. It’s almost enough for you to agree to go to the stupid party, when you see her glance towards mark lee, the boy she’s been crushing on for as long as you’ve known her. It hadn’t surprised you, that she’d fallen for him, when you saw him. The boy who made most girls swoon, but who had somehow managed to beat all the stereotypes of “hot” because mark was also talented, more than you’d like to admit when it came to music, he’d helped you a couple of times when you’d been stuck on a composition, always a smile on his face. so when she glanced towards him, the glittering in her eyes and rose tainted cheeks as mark looked back, flashing a small smile, you couldn’t help but give in.

“I’m going to regret this,” you say, the words a mix of a grunt and an exasperated sigh, but your friend is almost jumping up and down, giving you a quick hug and promising that you wouldn’t regret it, not at all, you’d have the greatest time before she was turning around a skip in her step. A smile graces your face at your friend’s happiness, and it remains there unfaltering until you hear “hello love”

Brown hair made its way into your view, as jeno’s face presented itself in front of you, a cocky smile grazing his features that made your smile falter and eventually turn into a scowl.

“What” the word isn’t a question, more like a complaint as you try to turn around and head in the opposite direction, away from jeno and his sweet words. But his voice trails behind you only a couple of steps away before he’s next to you leather jacket glaring against the end of the summer sun, and you wonder only for a second how he isn’t passing out from the heat.

“Oh come on angel, a lil smile wouldn’t kill you” his words are filled with a tone you can only describe as intolerable, making you slightly gag.

“A smile wouldn’t kill me, but i might kill you” you smile at him, a grin adorning your features, “luv” the words that left your mouth are meant to push jeno away and have him leave you alone, but the boy is persistent and though his smirk falters slightly at the glare you give him, the grin is up and running again as he stops in front of you.

“And then who would you have to glare and fight with luv?” the moment the words leave his mouth he turns away, proud of his line. The dumbass, you think, insults quickly forming in your head and ready to be thrown out towards him but your phone pings, and you thumb it open. The message “see you at the party angel” makes your blood boil slightly, but you can’t hide the way your cheeks slightly turn red and the smile that slowly grazes your face before you make a vulgar gesture to the sweet mouthed boy, and turn away.

As much as you hated to admit, you looked forward to the party only just slightly more than you did five minutes ago, the small nicknames swarming around your head.

And the way you cut your hair.

The too-loud music and blinding lights that could be heard and seen from multiple blocks away, and you almost stopped in your tracks, ready to turn around and head back home. But a pull from your friend as she squealed in excitement at maybe having a chance with mark managed to keep your feet moving towards the flashing lights.

Strong alcohol, tequila, or vodka is something you’re hoping they have at the party so that you can attempt to get away from the sex-craved teenagers that are lined up against the walls, pushing against each other. Just walking into the house, and the stench of cigarettes, weed, and sweat floats through the air almost enough to make you gag, as your nose scrunches up at the sight and smell.

Drinks are set far too far from the entrance of the house, the kitchen seems to be miles away not close enough for your liking until you finally reach it. Johnny, black-haired slicked back, the sunflower tattoo on his forearm a stark contrast to the leather jacket he wears and it makes you smile just slightly at the different personalities the dark-haired boy has. Yet you can’t deny his loud and extravagant personality as he talks from person to person whether senior or freshman, making drinks, even if some of the spillover the sides, you sit by one of the stools ready to get a mixed drink of whatever the alumni is able to concoct before getting the courage and energy to head back into the party and socialize with people you really have no interest in socializing.

In the short minute that it takes johnny to get your drink, the lemon drink shot with a strong tequila is set in front of you just as your friend has left you with the only warning being a sharp look, as she smiled to a brown-haired boy that you can only presume to be Mark, by the way, her face flushes, and she takes a swig from the drink in her hand before leaving you, and you yell a sharp “go get em” before gulping down the liquid inside the red solo cup.

Alcohol you’d forgotten burned down your throat, it’s lingering sharp and bitter taste leaving a tang in your mouth as it traveled down your mouth. You forget that the effect of the drink doesn’t come into effect a little later, where you are jumping up and down on the table, dancing from side to side as the music pumps through your blood and body. You won’t be able to tell that it’s the alcohol that you’d sworn you wouldn’t drink unless surrounded by friends, but most definitely not in a social gathering, that makes you jump from table to table and grab other’s next you as you dance with them. Hair slightly plastered to your face from the sweat, and though you’re dancing your words are slightly fuzzy from the multiple drinks you’d had from random tables you’d pass by.

A sharp tug and pull gets you off the current table and you begin to complain, wanting to continue to let loose to the rhythm of some constant beat song that sounds all too vaguely familiar to your ears, but the arms that are wrapped around you feel oddly warm and comfortable and the protest die slightly on your lips as you turn around to see who’s holding onto you.

Dark brown hair, almost black frames the boy’s face perfectly and you want to run your fingers through it. Some sense of longing for love and being loved passes through you, and now you’ve realized how drunk you truly are as you push down the emotions of attraction to the boy in front of your face showing only the traces of what would be a smile if he wasn’t so concerned for your safety.

“y/n?” the boy asks, and you’re still in a light haze of alcohol that buzzes through your skin and blood making everything fuzzy that you can’t quite picture whose face it is in front of you, whose voice that is soft and gentle towards you and sounds so familiar, to which you only manage to nod your head slightly hair falling in front of your eyes as you smile. It’s small, fluttering, and the boy in front of you smiles too, as he repeats your name, and then the words that leave his mouth make him click into place.

“y/n? Luv? How much have you had?” The word luv, makes you push away from the strong arms that hold you, the classic leather jacket that tends to adorn his body has somehow managed to be wrapped around you, and you realize that you are no longer inside the house with loud music. Instead the music and flashing lights have been replaced by trees and twinkling lights that flash in the dark sky and the distant background of loud music that is too low for your ears to register anything more than a constant drone. Your smile has been replaced by a scowl, and you grunt at the jacket you’re wearing, hating to admit that it’s warm and comforting. You try to speak, the words a slur before you hurl, holding onto your stomach as the content of your lunch and too much alcohol are spilled on the grass floor in front of you.

The acid from your stomach burns your tongue, a bitter taste seems to linger even as you chug down the water that jeno offers you, a small smile gracing his features. And you blame the alcohol, but you smile back at him, and can’t think that maybe he isn’t as bad as you thought he was. You can’t shake the feeling of his hand wrapped around your waist, another holding up your hair as you hurled, and coughed no mocking grin or satisfactory smirk making their way onto his face. Instead a small smile was present, his dark hair that you finally admitted to yourself, made him look hot, was tousled and messy by the wind and it looked cute.

You blame the day’s events and the words that were thrown at you at the beginning of the party making you head straight to the intoxicating drinks. You blame the chemicals that are still in your system, as you sit on the grass dragging jeno to sit next to you, hand intertwined with his. The grass that is cool against your touch, making your skin feel less hot, less sticky, and more conscious. You blame the alcohol and everything it changes in your core, for letting you lean your head against jeno’s shoulder, as his arm wraps around your shoulders pulling you in only slightly, scared to scare you away. You most definitely blame the alcohol as the words that fall from your mouth as you hold onto jeno’s calloused hand.

“I like it” the words are a mumble, whispered into the night air, and it causes jeno to turn just slightly his lips almost touching the crown of your head, “like what?” he whispers back, and you can almost swear a small kiss is placed on the crown of your head.

“Luv”

I hate the way you drive my car.

It seems that the stars want you to hate jeno more than you already do, as he half carries you half drags you to your parked car. The moon shines on the car surfaces mixing in with the dull yellow lights from the evenly spaced streetlights. You wished that you could walk straight, but you still stumble a little, your steps not sturdy until jeno has placed his arm around your waist lifting you up, that you manage to walk to the old vintage car that is parked under one of the dimmed out streetlights.

The sequence of opening the door and you get inside the car occurs in a slight blur, but you find yourself on the passenger seat, head resting against the cool window that makes you jump slightly from the contact. It isn’t until you turn your head as the engine roars to life underneath you that you see jeno by the wheel, adjusting the rear view mirrors to his height and gripping the steering wheel.

Time seemed to stop as you lay in the grass, head tucked in between jeno’s shoulder and his head. It stopped when the last words that had left your mouth had made jeno’s smile widen and his eyes match the moon that shone brightly above the two of you. The droning music has stopped, flashing lights no longer as constant as they were when you had first dragged jeno into the cool grass. In that position did you two lay for hours, a comfortable understanding and silence settling between the two of you until your breaths became constant and your eyes had begun to droop threatening to close that jeno shook you lightly. The only response he got was a small humm that you were still awake, as he pulled you up and started to make your way to the car. Something that seemed almost impossible as jeno had absolutely no idea where the fuck your car was and you didn’t seem to quite remember in your hald drunken half sober very much about to fall asleep state.

Jeno could have almost jumped from joy when he’d seen your eyes brighten up at the sight of a beat-up old red mustang, and you pointed towards it. The moment he had opened the passenger door you had climbed inside curling up next to the door like a cat, and he couldn’t help but think that you were adorable, even when you snapped at him for taking your keys. It was a different side of you that he’d never seen, and he doubted many people did see. One where you weren’t putting on a sort of facade of hating everything around you, but instead you let your eyes relax holding a sort of brightness and glow jeno hadn’t seen before but now couldn’t stop himself from looking at. Stop, jeno scolded himself as he turned to look at the road, car roaring to life.

“Nu-uh” you grunted at seeing jeno aggressively change gears, “stop being so aggressive,” you say as you sit up. The smile that adorned jeno’s face turns into a grin, as he continues to aggressively switch gears as he turns the corner, and you regret ever thinking he was kind.

“My car doesn’t deserve this” you grunt out, and jeno chuckles looking at you from the side, and he loosens his grip slightly on the gear stick.

“You mean my presence? I’m gonna have to agree, sweetheart” you’re not sure if it’s the light trace of chemicals that still surround your brain, or if you’ve really wanted to do this for a while but you don’t stop your fist as it punches jeno in the arm.

“The fuck” leaves jeno’s lips, as he rubs his arm where you’d hit him and you do a little dance on your seat, “don’t hurt my car dumbass” is your only answer before you continue to laugh at the face of confusion and mocked hurt that jeno fakes.

Your laugh rings around the car, and echoes through the street, as the windows at some point where rolled down. The way jeno looks confused makes you laugh harder, and he turns just slightly, his eyes narrow and eyebrows slightly scrunches, and he looks like a confused dog. Alcohol might have made you hit him, but you can’t fathom why you would be laughing at jeno, no not at him but with him as his laugh has joined yours as he drives the car down the street. The ridiculousness of the night catches up with, making you hold onto your stomach as jeno parks into your driveway smile never faltering.

From the way, both of your eyes shine from joy and amusement one could almost swear that the two of you were friends, almost lovers by the way jeno looked at you. But no one was looking at two in the morning, and no one can be there to tell you that the way you two look at each other is in a new way. No gazes filled with mocked sympathy or non-wanted flirtatious remarks, instead, you two seem to gaze into each other’s eyes for what seems too long if it weren’t that neither of you seemed to mind.

And because you are still slightly tipsy, and the stars and moon make jeno look like some sort of angel as his hair is illuminated by a white light, that lights up his face making his eyes a warmer brown that they usually are that you think about opening up yourself to him. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you think, maybe just maybe the nicknames he gives you make you feel a flutter because he could be someone to trust.

Possibilities for the maybes and wants to fill your head, and you don’t realize your eyes have fluttered shut and you are leaning in only slightly a sway towards where jeno is until you feel his hand on your shoulder stopping you, a pitiful gaze grazes his features and you are almost sure you want to go crawl in a hole. Instead, you push him back, opening the car door and slamming it behind you, chin held up as you walk back towards your house, the water in your eyes threatening to spill. But you manage to make it, as you walk into your house, and slam the door behind you the words “maybe not now” replaying in your head, because why the fuck would he actually like you.

You don’t notice when you go to sleep music blasting from your headphones that you’ve wrapped yourself in the leather jacket that smells slightly of cat and boy, the lingering stench of cigarettes and fire from the jacket given to you by the boy who had managed to hold your heart for only a second.

I hate it when you stare.

in and out. Your breaths match the classes metronome, a constant beat to keep your breaths even and focused on whatever the teacher is saying, which happens to be the importance of pentatonic scales when composing a new song. He drones on about the way modern pop music isn’t really music and that the same fours chords and rhythmic patterns are used over and over again with a slight variety to them. You would have looked around the class, taking in the beautiful instruments that are set on display around the class, most of them hanging on hooks and nicks that cause the brass instruments to gleam in the classroom light. Admiring the way the guitars were filed neatly, basses next to them and the small ukuleles that the school's “hipsters” would pretend to play every so often at the talent shows. Some of the guitars and ukuleles were decorated by the art classes, the flowers blooming from one end to the other making it impossible to tell the difference between where the original brandished wood begins and ends. It almost seems at times like the flowers in full bloom are consuming the wood, taking away its air and nutrients that then allow the students to play melodica tunes without the professor yelling at them to tune their instruments. You would be admiring the piano that lay at the front of the class where your professor is currently pacing back and forth, his hands waving in grandiose gestures that make you cough an attempt to hide the rising laughter in your throat. The piano that you’d heard most of the students in the class play and almost lull everyone to tears or sleep depending on who it was, as the keys would rise and fall with each stroke.

Admire. Stare at the instrument you longed to strum and let out the bundle of emotions that were piled up in your stomach, taught and knotted together waiting to be untang;ed by the strum and finger pattern of the acoustic guitar. That’s what you would be doing if you weren’t slightly interested in the way that your professor was taking down and criticizing modern day music which you could only nod your head too, agreeing with most of his points. The rest of your class seemed to be disgusted, their faces shriveling and eyes rolling to the back of their heads.

“Well yeah, music today doesn’t, well shouldn’t really constitute for “real” music. It shouldn’t be dictated by a constant talk of sex and the drugs, what about the power in music? The way that it is in itself a universal language?” you speak out of turn, your arm coming down slightly aching from having to hold it up for so long with no acknowledgment. The moment you speak you can almost feel the class sigh and grunt, their heads dropping slightly.

“Now miss y/n” his voice is grainy and unpleasant, but you nod, eyes defiant at whatever critique will come your way even if you just agreed with your professors point of view, “did i ask for your opinion on the universal language and power it has on your feelings”

“Well no but-”

“No buts” you want to roll your eyes and flip him off, and decide to do both as you sigh, “not like you’d understand what that is” you mumble loud enough for your the boy at your right to hear you and his mouth falls slightly open, and you roll your eyes flipping him off as he turns around facing the scribbled blackboard.

You can feel eyes staring at you, analyzing the way you bite onto the top of your pen or how you doodle across the margin of your paper, random notes and lyrics that pop into your head as your professor drones on and on about the theory of music. It’s a pity you think that it’s those eyes that make you want to stand up and hit someone, those eyes that seem to want to dig a whole through your brain are what cause the feeling of uneasiness in your stomach every-time you turn around.

in and out. The metronome beeps constant again, and you loosen the grip on your pencil. Turning around slowly before locking gaze with jeno, who seems startled, you turned around and looked at him in the first place. Replaced is the mocking grin by a sheepish smile, and you can almost swear there’s a speck of guilt in his brown eyes as he looks at you with a small pleading look until you flip him off, mouthing the words “fuck you” into the air. But he seems to register them as he breaks the contact, eyes darkening and head bowing down just slightly, making a small smile graces your features.

Tick tick tick - ring. The bell goes off and you can’t seem to get up and out of your seat quick enough, following pursuit of the other students that have already packed and are counting down the seconds until class is over. You’re almost at the door, fingers stretching to reach the handle when you feel a light tap on your shoulder, a brush of your hair to the side, as you swirl around. You bite down the curse that is about to slip through your lips as your professor stands in front of you an amused smile on his face as he tells you that even though you’re an exemplary student you should tone down on the whole “power to the people” role you hold and you have to stop yourself from turning around and walking away. “Uh sure…” you are ready to leave, feet beginning to turn but your professor isn’t done and he holds you back telling you about the inconveniences of being a teacher at this day and age and you wonder what the man had wanted to be if not a teacher but the question and pity are quickly erased when he tells you that you about the end of the year assignment, “a project of sorts” he drawls, one hand stroking the light beard that sticks in odd patchy places around his face. “that will test what you’ve learned this year” you say nothing, waiting for what the punch the goal of the assignment is, “a song based off shakespeare’s sonnets”

You don’t have time to clap and jump from joy at the assignment and thank your professor before the fire alarm goes off and you are walking towards the football field. You don’t have the time to register the way people are looking at you, the way jeno is staring at you with a goofy smile and hopeful eyes as the intro chords play to i.f.l.y by bazzi and he gazes towards the crows that has gathered around him, eyes finding yours.

I hate your big dumb combat boots,

The clunk of boots against the aluminium causes the bleachers to shake slightly, a vibration of clashing echoing through the field as it mixes in with jeno’s voice. The dark haired boy that scares the school away on most days bounces along from one side of the bleachers to the other.

You can feel the warmth spread to your cheeks, the heat spreading through your body and you shake your head slightly at whatever is going because you truly aren’t quite sure. The only thing you know is that it seems to be the whole school’s eyes are darting from you to jeno, who can’t seem to take his eyes off even as he jumps from one row of bleachers to the next the microphone on his hand a he raps along to the lyrics to the song. Lyrics that sound as familiar as a midnight drive and cooling moonlit fields.

The way he conveys the words and raps is not something you hadn’t heard before, you’d heard him speak his poems to you that late night in the midst of summer heat when you had been in a need of escape from the world that surrounded you. The summer heat had been too much, too suffocating that in a whim you’d driven to the highest point in the city. City skyline had been laid before you, the hues of the city changing as the sun slowly dipped itself over the buildings, and it seemed to want to disappear like you did. Slowly, leaving a mark in the world as it reached past the buildings and water that lay far beyond the city, stretching it’s red flames that would slowly flicker and turn into different hues of pink and purple. It was mesmerizing, a way to get away as the sun went down and the moon shone brighter than the city lights, no amount of light pollution that littered the air enough to you were in your own world. Your mind travelled to that safe and peaceful place that would only come out when you were surrounded by the twinkle of stars that seemed to flicker hope, while the moon remained a constant reminder of the light in the darkness. That is until the crunch of leaves behind you, a sign of the coming autumn disturbed you from your silent peace.

Moonlight shone on black boots, the combat boots seemed to dull the moonlight, taking away all it’s light by absorbing it as it crunched the leaves underneath them and stopped in front of you. Eyes landed on a hooded figure, their black hoodie being slightly too big, as it drooped over their frame, reaching slightly past their hip, where you could see the tears in the boys jeans, and you hated to admit that the outfit wasn’t bad. The boy’s face wasn’t visible from the shadows caused by the moonlight, but it wasn’t that it mattered as you went back to looking at the city below you, waiting for the boy in front of you to sit down next to you. It would have normally bothered you to be disturbed in what you had claimed to be your “spot” but maybe it was the way the boy held his head down, or the way the stars shone and illuminated portions of his face, maybe it was just that there was a mutual understanding between the two people that had seeked comfort in the middle of the night underneath the stars. For whatever the reason, you stayed next to each other not touching, not leaning against each other but there was a sense of comfort by each other’s presence and a mutual knowledge of what each wanted. The silence was one of comfort, a blanket that seemed to surround the field that two of you sat in, and when the boy with the worn out combat boots began to speak, a light melody and rhythm to his words all you could do was nod along and enjoy the melodic and soothing sound of his voice. His words shocked you, reaching somewhere inside of you that seemed to be dormant for a long long time.

“Summer’s been lonely, time seems wasted and passing. But when the stars shine, and the sun goes, Summer becomes a lil less lonely Little less wasted Because when i'm with you Time’s gonna stop”

You couldn’t help but feel drawn to the warm voice that rapped next to, as he talked about lost time and love that seems to be a long lasting one that makes you feel like you’re gonna burst from everything that you feel for them only for them to leave in a quick second. And though you don’t know the boy next to you, you don't know his story, you don’t know why he decided on this very day much like you too climb to the top of the hill and admire the busy world from afar, you know the melody. The song that follows his heart, it’s something out of a movie you think, the way the two of you met, lost souls finding themselves by watching everything around them fade into the dark. You don’t know each other but you do, you know the way his song goes and it’s an understanding beyond words beyond actions as the two of you sit next to each other, hours passed midnight a boy with combat boots that crunch through leaves and a voice with thoughts that seem to connect to everything around you, and you. A lost soul with music in heart, that sways and calms down in the brightening moon of the night, as you give each other mutual company in a field of moonlit flowers, and blinking concrete.

Jeno has made his way down the bleachers, his cheeks are red and you can’t help but feel amused and honored. Because as much as he annoys you and makes you want to hit something you can’t deny the way your heart flutters when he smiles at you as he is doing right now, steps bringing you closer and closer to you, his warned out combat boots make you laugh because you’d never seen him wear anything else. You can feel the anger fade away from the week, anger at him for embarrassing you, anger for not feeling loved like you wanted to be loved, but there was a sort of bond that was formed when the school's resident bad boy decides to sing a love song to someone he’s hurt and cares for. There’s something vulnerable by the way he looks at you, a light in his eyes and embarrassment and all of a sudden he’s in front of you. Faces only centimeters away, his breaths fanning your face slightly, their heavy and uneven but he’s smiling tune slightly off-key as he sings the last verse.

“So I guess what i'm saying” the mic is lowered, and the space between the two becomes your own world. No longer are aware of the hundreds of teenagers surrounding you, some of the whistling others video taping.

“I guess what i'm saying” you hum back, smiles adorning both of your faces,

“I fucking love you”

And the way you read my mind.

It seemed as if the world had suddenly shifted. No longer where you are grounded on earth, goals set to go to the other side of the world away from your family, instead you feel alleviated. Where the ground used to be now there was air, a lightness to your movements and words that weren’t there before. It isn’t that the world suddenly changed, the clouds didn’t suddenly become more bright, the world didn’t suddenly become a bright ball of colors and sunshine.

Falling for someone was based upon the little moments spent together. The way the world seemed to feel a little less heavy, a little less lonely when brown eyes would meet yours, greeting you with a lopsided smile. You had read in books that falling was like falling asleep, slowly and then so quickly that you didn’t even notice the way your heart would take skips when hand touched hand, calloused fingers from constant strumming of a guitar, grazing yours. They say it’s supposed to be too fast for you to notice, as if you were in a dream state that you had fallen into and slowly when your heart is shattered or turned over do you wake up from the dream-like state wishing you had stayed in it. In your opinion falling was neither of those, and it was both.

Falling was being dragged out of an arena, filled with a whole school student body, where laughter trailed behind you as the boy with worn out combat boots took you to the place you first met. It was the way his eyes would light up their dark brown becoming a lighter color, almost matching his honey colored hair when the sun would hit him from behind, when he looked at you while you talked about the project you were working on. Falling seemed to be the way that the first sentences after the boy sang bazzi’s confession song was a banter over why the song was chosen, you two debating which of his songs was better, an ongoing debate whether smile or i.f.l.y was a better show of emotion. The argument lasted the whole car ride, you drove and it hadn’t taken much convincing after you threatened to keep his leather jacket, that you had shoved back at him only previously that morning. It was only a matter of seconds after that conversation, that jeno pride smile on his face opened the passenger's seat to the beat up mustang and let you slightly, well more like lecture him on how to be gentle on the old car. If jeno would have been tested on the way that your hands would flit back and forth, moving from side to side and up and down making grand gestures and soft ones in order to justify and further prove your point, jeno was sure he would ace the test. But if it came to what you were talking about, how he shouldn’t force the car to change gears or how one button should be pressed before the other he would have passed, he loved hearing you talk passionately about anything and as much as he loved to get on your nerves to see you get flustered cheeks growing slightly red, but would have failed on purpose just for you to smack him in the arm. The punch, which he would never admit kinda hurt the first time you’d hit him what seemed like ages ago, but was really only a season ago, had softened and felt now more like a “you’re stupid but i don’t mind it”, it made him smile. Banter that flitted back and forth between the two of you, constant little arguments that weren’t truly arguments but more of a facade at the emotions and hidden feelings that grew between the two of you.

The coming winter air was sharp against your ungloved hand, making you shake it up and down, which only caused jeno to look at you with a confused look.

“You know luv” the nickname no longer made your blood boil, and you’d finally admitted to yourself that it made you feel warm, “there are pockets for a reason” he put his own hands in the stitched pockets of his leather jacket for emphasis, and you huffed.

“And then how would i be able to carry this?” you lifted your hand, the what had been hot chocolate was now cold all thanks to the new barista at the cafe, jungwoo you think his name was. Your fingers that had seeped up all the warmth they could get from the previously steaming cup of hot chocolate were now pink at the ends, the cold biting into them, and you slightly shook from the cold air you hadn’t been ready for these type of temperature when jeno had sent you a message this morning, the contact “soft bad boy” appearing repeatedly in your phone, with the vague instructions to get ready to go out in the span of fifteen minutes, he’s been by your door in fifteen minutes leading you to your car where he opened the driver's seat for you as he headed into the passenger. It had taken you arriving at the snow covered school to realize where jeno was taking you, and when you had realized it was the school protests were coming. Questions such as “jeno? It’s winter break, why the fuck are we in school?” and “fuck it’s cold”, or jeno’s favorite which you were almost sure he would forever tease you about, “my hands weren’t made for this” you’d been talking about the numbing of feeling in your thumbs when you had been holding the chocolate, keys, phone and wallet in your hands because your jeans had been made without proper pockets. Fuck the patriarchy you hat thought. Jeno has heard the whole situation out of context, and has made it his life goal to tease you on and on about your small hands. It was torture.

“You could ask for help?” his little bow almost made you laugh, but you rolled your eyes pride getting in front of his help

“And hear you brag about how you don’t feel the cold” you sigh, changing the drink from one hand to the next letting the pocket in your hoodie heat up your hand slightly, “no thank you”. The next thing you know though, is jeno’s jacket is placed around your shoulders, their warmth heating up your bones, and his hands are wrapped around yours, “no, i’d just do this” his voice is next to you, breath stirring the hairs at your ears, warmth sweeps through your body, by the contact his skin makes with yours, and for a second you want to turn around and kiss him. You want to know what it’s like to kiss his lips that seem so soft, want to know what it feels like to wrap your arms around his neck while you kiss him, and play with the black strands of hair at the back of his neck. The feeling doesn’t leave as much as you try to push it away, as jeno holds your hands and drags you towards the school gate, and into the music room.

Falling is about the invisible things. Falling is noticing the way he can read your mind like no one else can, falling is making dumb jokes at each other smiles on both of your faces, it is the way you seem to have conversations about what you want from the world at two am and still poke fun at each other in a passing by through school. Falling you think you finally understand, isn’t singing i.f.l.y by bazzi in front of the whole student body because you don’t want someone to be mad at you, no. falling is the way from summer to fall to winter you get to know each other, until your hearts seem to be in-sync with each other, as jeno who fiddles with the rings on his fingers tells you to sit down on a chair in the music room. It is the way he picks up the guitar your breath catches on everytime you see it, the flowers swallowing and making the wood more vibrant than it was, and looks at you in the eyes. Falling is how his hands tremble slightly when he begins to strum the guitar, and his husky voice fills the empty room, as he sings about the way you make him feel less alone, and part of the universe.

But there’s a thing about falling, there’s the way that you can feel your eyes tear up when he finishes a goofy smile plastered on his face, the last g chord ringing throughout the room and into the hallways. When you fall, you can never tell when the bottom hits, you can never be prepared for the way the ground lurches before you, a slap in the face, right as you let go of the moon boy in front of you breaths still a little uneven from the shared kiss, which made a star fall seem small. Once that rock bottom is hit, the world falls back into place and you aren’t held at freefall, when you hear the “click” and whoops and yells from the hallway and you try to ignore the invasion trying to take in the boy in front of you, until your phone dings and then so does his. A new text message from an unknown contact, with a photo image attached,

“Turns out the bad boy took the bet after all, and y/n isn’t as cold hearted as they seem”

I hate you so much it makes me sick;

Crashing, falling and burning. Emotions that seem to curse through you days, a weeks later after the text is sent, the one that follows is worse.

“Turns out, jeno was being paid all along to make cold-hearted y/n to fall for him. If you don't trust us, ask him” you knew the message was a taunt, a test to see if you would break but you’d plummeted down down down, and the way jeno’s eyes had shuttered and the light was no longer the way gave you the answer you wanted.

A breaking point is what they call you’ve heard when one can no longer hold in the anger or sadness or any sort of emotion that seems to be too much. The breaking point that causes one to lose control over their actions, or thoughts because things you thought to be true, are flipped on their side, and the worst part is you wanted yourself not fall for the boy with the easy smile that shone like the moon, and sweet words that made your blood boil and melt all at once.

Sick, that’s how you felt when you pushed him away, leather jacket dropping with a heavy thud onto the wooden floor. A twisting and turning of emotions rammed through you, anger coming out strong as you shoved him away again before walking out of the room, leaving jeno mouth wide open as if he’d wanted to say something, hands clenching and unclenching as if he’d grabbed onto to you or hadn’t let you check your phone it would change the world worked. The light that had shone in his eyes left, it seemed to be squashed out by the water that threatened to escape because it was true, he had been paid. It isn’t something that made him particularly, it wasn’t that he wasn’t intrigued by you, from the night you two first met all those months ago under the moonlight.

Payment, green paper that would be slipped into his hand by haechan, a fellow senior he barely knew apart from the school’s biggest flirt accompanied by na jaemin, he did wonder at times how they weren’t at each other’s throats most of the time, but substantially he truly didn’t care. It didn’t matter to him the more he got to know you, the more he held your hand and felt the way his heart would swell and at times skip a beat or two, maybe even three if you looked at him with light in your eyes, laughter ringing in his ears from a joke he had said.

The first time he’d been offered the paper, fifty bucks to see if the cold hearted bitch that everyone seemed to fear was capable of giving her heart to someone, he had denied because as much as the world thought of him as a cold hearted human being he truly just didn’t want to be bothered or be torn apart from his music and dance. The second time haechan offered, he accepted on a whim. There had been a sort of argument in music class, you leading the conversation against something he couldn’t quite remember but he remembered you taking down student after student, a defiant look in your eyes as you gave point after point on what you believed was right. He had accepted, because seeing you standing on top of your chair, passion driving you away from the textbook and to speak clearly voice ringing through the room, made him wonder if it was even possible and if he gave up with what he thought was to be your overly cold demour then at least he's earned some money and the freshman that had walked up to him that morning telling him about the plan they’d set up would work. The plan chenle, a boy who was taller than him, but a freshman nonetheless broke it down in simple steps, it was entertaining to say the least, the way he discussed how he would get his new found jisung to go out with your sister, but that would only be possible if you would date. If he wanted to lie to himself, he would say that he accepted the deal because he wanted to help the kids out, but he was never one to not follow the truth. But now, his hands feel cold and empty, lips still feeling the ghost of yours against his, and he remembers a quote he read not long ago on the story of how the sun died everyday in order to let the moon live at night.

Jeno is sure that he should be the sun that should die, not because the sun was where the world gravitated towards but because you were the moon. The moon that seemed to hold him together and stand by him even after the lies that are spun about his background at school so when you walk out the door, and he sees the tear’s shining beneath the classroom lights he knows he’s lost. If only you knew that he had stopped taking any sort of money the moment he caught feelings, if you only knew the money that he’d earned had gone to help his fostered cats that hung out by his house every now and then. But even if you did now it didn’t make him any better than Haechan who had sent out the text message, informing the world about the stupidities and decisions he made and had regretted two weeks later when you had scolded him about how to drive your car.

Sick. From your stomach to your head a loud and never ending thump went on and on like the metronome in the music room all those weeks ago. The headache seemed mocking of your developed feelings for jeno, and you could feel your heart twist into itself, as you went over the events of the last few months. What was real, what was done as an act, you didn;t know but you hated it. You hated the way he made you feel, hated the way one text one yes or luv had led you into this snowball and fall that had hit harder than you’d ever wanted it. You hated him so much, it made you sick.

It even makes me rhyme.

Melodies follow structured patterns, like the rhythm to a song and the lyrics that accompany it, never missing a beat a simple dun dun dun that tends to lead people into a dance like trance. Yet that was the problem with melodies, it was the way that they held onto certain chords, following the same stroke of keys the same vocal riff or bass slap that would drive you insane but would also drive modern days love songs whether they dealt with the infatuation that was love or the consequences of that love which lead to the inevitable heartbreak all followed the same sort of patterns and lines.

Rhyming, that’s what you did as you recited the end of the year Shakespeare inspired song. A mixture of words with similar sounding words with the same syllables, like car and stare or hate and fate a juxtaposition between the two. Rhymes where everything you tended to avoid, the stereotypical and overused notes digging into your brain, playing and replaying over and over but you didn’t care anymore, as you recited the scribbled lines on the old piece of notebook paper. Some of the yellow had faded from the drops of tears that had dropped weeks ago, as your mind thought of jeno, his smile no longer the same comfort it held when he drove you out to the beach and led you late at night to admire the stars and watch the sunset. Some of the blue ink bleeding through, making smudges across the paper you were to run in, the doodles that had been scratched and re-drawn only to be scratched and drawn in different shapes the notes written down almost everywhere except in the five bar staff that was supposed to hold the notes.

The shaky breath you let out helps you calm down as you look out into the pinned up pictures of the bedroom wall and the view that gives out to the dying sun set out in the horizon making space for the ever present and shining moon in the blue now purple and lilac sky. Hands grip at the paper, making it crinkle slightly at the force being used, and you read halfway through the lines you can’t fully get through before tears begin to spring up at your eyes.

I hate it, i hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie.

The words feel raw, and posion, vile seems to rise up at your throat the further you go down, and thought the tears don’t fall heavily they steam. A dashing race down your cheeks and back into the yellow notebook paper, as if they were being recycled. The words on the page breaking you, the emotions a sway of everything they say you aren’t, written by you to the boy who shared his heart and then stole it taking it far far away. Salty water drops onto the paper, until they dry up and then they fall again the next time you read them, and you read them and fix them and read them again rhymes embedded into your brain until the tears no longer fall and the paper is no longer in crinkles.

I hate it when you make me laugh,

The memory flits back to you when you are met with brown eyes on the first day back from winter break. The air is no longer sharp and threatening to cut into you, but nevertheless you wear your sweater, hoodie slightly up, headphones popped into both ears. You didn't realize the figure in front of you, until you’d bumped into the halfway through a new invented dance move you had decided to create as you bopped and moved to the music that surged through your headphones. The toppling into one another was fast, rushed almost as you collided against each other, a stutter back from both of you before you saw who exactly you had crashed into. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, you should have realized who the boy was from the worn out combat boots that had been dyed black again, and the leather jacket that had a couple of new patches adorning it’s sleeves.

“Sorry” jeno murmurs, but you don’t hear music still flooding in, and you are too focused on the way his eyes shift from your face to your hoodie, and then back to your face not being able to look straight at you, it causes you to scoff. Of course he was able go behind my back, get paid to play with me, and when he gets caught he can’t even look me in the eye, the thoughts are slightly disappointing but not surprising - boys you had learned tended to follow patterns. It isn’t until jeno shifts his focus entirely from you, brown eyes darkening that you are intrigued by the change emotion, guilt and a sort of plead to apologize is wiped from his face and you soon realize the purple haired boy, who couldn’t help himself from laughing at your situation, calling more students to him that had set jeno off.

“If it isn’t the schools biggest joke” haechan’s voice is mocking, and you truly don’t know why the rest of the student body is laughing with him, when there isn’t anything humorous, sadly this is what you expect from the school by this point, it happened in ninth grade there was nothing to say it wouldn’t happen again. You think about ignoring his comments, there truly was no use getting involved, haechan just wanted a reaction, that is until he flaunted his money around, the constant taunt of how you had been manipulated thanks to the douchebag in front of you not leaving your mind for a second and you’d had enough. Haechan or his group of friends couldn’t have stopped you even if they tried, as you walked up to him, hood down, the rings on your fingers shining in the morning sun, as you punched him.

“Bitch!” his voice broke as the word escaped his lips, blood beginning to swell on the side of his face, “i have a photoshoot tomorrow” you punched again in response, this time his lip was cut, and you snickered.

“Hmmmm” you hummed looking at the boy’s eyes, they held anger and a hint of mist that threatened to escape and not being the schools ‘perfect’ boy, “guess they’ll have to find someone else, you know someone that’s actually, how do i say this in the nicest way possible” placing a hand on your chin you pretend to think about it before a grin spreads on your face, “nevermind there isn’t a nice way because you don’t deserve shit. rot in hell fucker” the last word is almost a yell as you’ve turned around and have walked away from the scene, a shit eating grin on your face, at the look of defeat Haechan held.

It isn’t the way Haechan looks at you with disgust, no that gives you some sense of pride by taking him on, it’s the way jeno’s eyes are filled with pride and warmth. A plea to hear him out at least just once, and as much as you try to deny it his eyes take you back to hot chocolates on random days, snowball fights late at night and random drives through the city to calm you down, music blasted through the stereo of your old car. Memories of him being next to you, arms around yours holding onto you as if you would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. Memories that as much as you wished wouldn’t flood up every time you saw him did and though you kept telling yourself that it was just an act, you can’t help but think that maybe just maybe not all of it was an act. The hope you hold close to your heart, is what leads you to be stuck back in the place that the mess started, stuck inside the music room yet again, jeno hand centimeters away from yours which just gets you to sit far far away from him.

“So…” he starts, fiddling with the bracelets that adorn his wrists.

“So…you gonna say something or can i go because i have class to attend to” the words come out harsh, as your annoyance slightly rises, mixed in with being emotionally exhausted you really weren’t here to sit around the boy who had played with you.

“The cafeteira is having french fries today” the second the words leave jeno’s lips he regrets them, because how stupid is he to start an apology by talking about food, when he looks at you he sees you laughing. Laughing so hard that he manages to walk closer to you so that you are only a couple of feet away from each other, but it isn’t a laugh that fills up the room. Your laugh is dry and humourless, empty and broken, it reminds him of the way one laughs when they have nothing to lose and have given up all hope.

“You know” you start, willing the tears to not fall, your voice to not break because just being in the room with him feels like too much, like one wrong step and the glue that has tapped your heart back together might diffuse into thin air, “for a second, a short second i thought you were gonna say something meaningful” the words are like poison, as you spit them out wanting them to strike and hurt the black haired boy with the perfectly chiseled face to hurt as much as you do, as you begin to head out of the room, the tears threatening to spill again. You’re about to reach the door before you hear your name being called, and you wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the desperation that was laced with his words. If it weren’t for the words that followed your name, “Summer’s been lonely, time seems wasted and passing” the lyrics, the way they roll off his tongue as if he’s heard them a million times catch your breath and make you turn around.

“Stop” you hold your hand out in emphasis, trying to calm your beating heart down, trying to stop the idea that this boy, the one that held your heart and broke it is the same boy that made you feel at peace in a day of chaos, on a midsummer night. But he tries again to talk, a small smile on the ghost of his lips and you have the urge to laugh and smile at him.

“Just stop” you almost plead, and jeno takes a deep breath, waiting for you to continue, “stop because dam you have no right to sing that. You had no right, no right at all to make me laugh like no one else that day and day’s after, you had no right”

Even worse when you make me cry.

Jeno has never been one to convey emotions with words. It was never, his forte as people call it, but in the music room that felt stuffed and almost suffocating he reached for words. Any word that might be sufficient, no, not sufficient, words that would convey his truth. Somehow, some way to get rid of that look of disgust, anger and defeat in your eyes that made his heart ache. He can feel you pull farther and farther away even if you are only a couple of feet away from, a couple of inches until if he held his arm out he could catch your hand in his. There was some part of him that thought the moment you two shared what seemed to be years ago, would help, would stop your eyes from shining every-time a light would hit them, the tears he knew you were holding back, because you weren’t one to cry in front of others threatening to spill. In response, he could feel his heart ache for longer, his hands clam up, eyes look at yours pleadingly.

“I know” his voice is defeated, almost as broken as you feel and the way it still manages to pull at your heart makes you look up at him, willing if only for one second, or to prove yourself that you can listen to him. The pause seems to make the room feel slightly more bearable, less stuffy, a little less suffocating, because two words are more than just an acknowledgement at the past but also at the present and the recent fuck ups. You hear more than see jeno take another shaky breath before he opens his mouth, closes it and opens again, a hand squeezing his eyes shut before he begins.

“I know” the words are repeated again, and you aren’t sure what to make of them but he isn’t done, “i fucked up” you scoff, and jeno has a faint smile, “i know that anything that i say will seriously not make up for anything i did because no one in there right mind would ever accept to what i did. No one who knows you, would ever even consider agreeing to being paid to approach you. No one, because being around you, getting to know you is a gift itself. And yes i did agree at the beginning, it’s a long story” the words become clustered, a mumble and you want to leave again, because they feel like an excuse,

“A long story, that still ended with you winning right?” the words snap from you before you stop them, and jeno is left wordless for a second before his eyes focus in again, mind running at a million, “yes?”

“No. no, i mean no” the sound that escapes from his lips confuses you, it’s a grunt and a sigh but he looks exhausted, “this isn’t going well”

“You think?” The question is more of a fact but that doesn’t stop jeno’s lips twitching slightly upwards, and you're mirroring his. Banter is good? I guess jeno thinks.

“What i mean” he starts again for the uptenth time, “is that the moment i saw you smile, the moment i got to know you, not the cold exterior you present the moment you laughed at something stupid i said, because for some odd reason you seem to find my jokes funny when no one else does. The moment you... i saw you, eyes dazed as they looked at the sky i knew that the whole thing was stupid. And i stopped it, i promised i stopped taking money from haechan the second i knew you because you didn’t deserve that. Does that make me any less of a shitty person? No it really doesn’t” he stops for a second, catching his breath and you're trying your best to not let the tears drop to not scream or yell or hit him over and over again, but he makes it so hard. So fucking hard when his voice and eyes seem to convey everything you need to hear, everything you want to hear, but then the word money is said and you remember what he did and you can feel yourself recoil back, but not before a silent tear slips.

“It doesn’t make me a better person if i had stopped the moment i had accepted the deal because I considered it. But y/n the way I feel about you, the way you manage to center me and be the single thing that keeps me afloat in this hell hole. The way that being next you whether it’s holding your hand that tends to be cold because you hate wearing gloves in winter and rather let them freeze'' another smile, and another tear slips making its way down your cheek, “can make me so happy and completely infatuated to the point i don’t know what to do with myself. It is the way I can feel your body next to mine hours after you’ve gone home from one of our random late night drives, or the way you steal my jacket and then i can feel you with me even when you are in class. It’s the way the stars and moon seemed to align that summer day, when we were both lost and found each other in the same lyrics, the same words and melody that sang to us. So yes, i was so stupid, so dam stupid for ever thinking i could be anything other than a stranger to you, and accepting that. But I can feel the way my heart seems to forget how to beat, anytime you look at me, and you smile, and unlike what the world wants us to believe. You aren’t my sun, or my stars. You are the center of the universe that i stand for, the moon that no matter how much i tried to get away from continues to rise and remain even on the never ending days, because i didn’t mean it all those months ago in the bleachers when i just wanted you to stop being mad at me for being the dumb ass i am, and i will never be the best when it comes to words and emotions luv, but i mean it now. I truly truly am sorry, and -” his voice breaks, and his hands shake, a tear slips from his eyes and you can see it’s reflection by the light.

“St…” you take a breath, the word not leaving your throat, your breaths are shaky and jeno tries to reach out to you, tries to wipe away the silent flow of tears that continues to stream down your face, “stop”. The word finally manage to leave your lips, harsher than you wanted them too but it stops jeno from grabbing your hand, from taking away the warmth of his hand against your cheek, his eyes that had begun to light up slightly to be shut down again, as if someone had doused water on him.

“Luv…” the moment the words leave his lips you know you have to leave, because if he does say those words, the ones you know you’ve been dreading to hear because you feel the same way. Because you have fallen and though you have hit rock bottom, and have been smacked back into reality your heart has never stopped reaching towards his. It doesn’t help, when his eyes look at yours with love, and you want to forgive him, you want everything to be okay, and in order for that to happen you can’t break down in front of him. Slowly do you shake your head, arms wrapping around your body as if they could provide some type of warmth, and heat up your bones, give warmth back into your eyes the way they do when you look at jeno. Which is why you don’t look at him, why you turn away leaving his arm outstretched and hanging. You can feel his eyes trail you, as you open the door the noise of the outside world rushing into the room, startling you for a second, but jeno doesn’t seem to hear it. The only thing he can focus on is you leaving, your footstep getting farther away, and his world becoming a little darker, more grey. The last thing he sees is your - well what used to be his - grey hoodie, the marking of sharpie that have been used to doodle on the piece of clothing one late night, flashing before the wooden door closes shut, surrounding him in a lonely silence again.

I hate it when you’re not around,

The world seems to mock you for falling for lee jeno. The black haired boy seemed to follow you everywhere you went no matter how far away you tried to get away from the memories that plagued you. Days had passed since the world had yet again seemed to shift on its axis, and you had seen jeno less and less, but that didn’t stop your mind from making you remember his laugh anytime you heard a bad joke.

No longer did brown eyes meet yours right after school ended in the cafe next to school, you weren’t greeted by the easy smile, that turned eyes into moons, or called the obnoxious pet names of angel and luv that used to make you want to punch a wall, only for you to find the words to be missing from your everyday life. Moments when the radio would play the song about summer and hazy love would worm their way into your heart, and it was like he was there. Smiling at you, his hand intertwined with yours as you drove your car to the top of the mountain where you first met, and just when the chorus would hit the two of you would belt out the song at the top of your lungs. It was only when the song ended, the melody fading into the back and replaced by the rapid voices of an ad for some car dealership you really didn’t care for, that you would look to find an empty seat beside you. No boy with a leather jacket, and combat boots that might have been propped up on the dashboard much to your protests, instead the seats were either empty and cold with no presence or soul in them, and the car would suddenly feel small and distant.

Other times, the pang of not hearing his laughter diffuse into the air, over your clumsy self either tripping over words or almost falling over due to there being a small rock in the sidewalk. The problem wasn’t that you didn’t have friends. Your best friend, the same one that had dragged you into that party all those months ago, would never miss a beat to be with you, to take you out for a random karaoke night or a late night drive on her car. It wasn’t that you didn’t love them, you loved how they would always make time for the small nuisance you would bother them about, even if it was just to tell them about a new meme you’d found but the way their presence would fill only a small space in your heart made it hard. Especially because you would see how happy they were anytime they talked about Mark, the stories of their lazy dates filled your heart with happiness and joy. It had become a habit to prioritize other’s happiness above your own, and soon it became a habit to prioritize getting jeno out of your memories out of the place in your heart he had seemed to crawl into and not leave.

Memories you come to realize are fleeting, and unpredictable. They are made from what one process to be from the emotions they feel in the current moment that the memory is being stored into your brain. The thing about memories, it’s a thing that they don’t tell you in 12th grade biology class. School or teachers don’t teach you about the different emotions and images that memories bring along with them. The figments that surround every memory you have for the past year seem to somehow always lead back to jeno. He comes when you think about your favorite drink, hot chocolate, and the drink transports you back to jeno bringing you hot chocolate late at night after long after hour practices. His black hair makes a presence, when you think about the essay you had to turn in a week ago, you don’t remember much of the project but your brain, against your conscious will remembers the way jeno’s hair felt through your fingers as you played with his hair one late afternoon. The threads come together slowly, on a random day, in which the sun seems to almost be desperate to stay on the earth’s surface, as it turns the buildings around it into purple hues. It almost seems like it’s gasping for air, and as the purple slowly turns into pink and lastly disappears beyond the horizon it’s last breath taken and long gone you realize something. Like the sun, and the threads that are tied together in order to form memories, in order to form the segments of life that when pieces together form a picture that lets one create the story of a person or a setting, jeno seems to form in front of you. You sit on top of the mountain where you first met, but this time you are alone, the skyline displayed out in front of you. The trees have lost their leaves and some of them even still have some white specks of snow in them, that with one push of wind would make the tremble and shiver, letting go of the white covering.

Jeno is next to you, his hand only a mere centimeter from yours, but you continue to look at the sky, the buildings that go on for as long as you can see. His memory, the way you rest your head on his shoulder and he listens and listens no judgement ever from his eyes, only support and encouragement to let you choose what will make you happy. A memory that repeats over and over again, but that isn’t your favorite memory from jeno. The last memory that forms in your head, after the roadtrips, to sweet make out sessions that led you two to leave whatever homework you had to work on for another time, or the sweet messages left at your phone that would bring a smile to your face even if he just texted you about the weather, to then get a back hug as he called you angel.

Your favorite memory was the day you had been on the exact same spot you where now, except jeno had been next to you, breathing a little harder than normal he had just shown you a dance routine he’s been working on for as long as you could remember. His eyes didn’t shine like they usually did, they didn’t take in the light around him, and his face didn’t have traces of a grin that you had grown so used too. Instead he pushed you away, dark roots from his bleached hair he had decided to try out for the month had begun to show and you could see the stress that seemed to suffocate him. This was a different side of jeno, a side you hadn't seen, one that you tried to approach with a joke, only to be quickly shut down. A small argument over school and life had formed, in which you two had gone from being right next to each other to being feet apart, a scowl on your face, the same one that jeno bore. It was this memory that was your favorite because it had been the first time you had truly seen jeno be vulnerable, it had been the first time from the weeks you had gotten to know each other that you felt that the walls on walls he built around himself, the walls you built around yourself had been torn down. There had been no shared kisses, no shared moments in which one hadn’t jokingly filtered with the other until the first droplet fell down jeno’s face. The only reason you had seen it was because the sun, punctual as always, had descended flickers of light reflecting in his face. It was a small action but enough that there was some part that managed to push aside your pride and you approached him, arms wrapping around his waist. The memory makes you remember that it took him a second to wrap his arms around you, but in that moment, it seemed as only for a second in which you could provide some support for the boy in front of you, then he could give you the support you needed. Threads of the memory are vague, movements in which you can’t fully pinpoint what happened in between or later, in which you know that at one point music had begun to make its way up the mountain from one of the daily parties the teens would throw, but you two held onto each other. The song, isn’t one you can seem to recall, but it wasn’t one that people slow dance too, it wasn’t one in which you are supposed to hold onto the boy in front of you arms around his neck, as his eyes looked into yours, smiles grazing both of your features as your foreheads touched, a small kiss placed on your forehead. Moonlight cascading the both of you, pushing away the shadows that surrounded you both.

It was any memory that you had in which jeno took part, in which you could feel him next to you, that was your favorite. Memories, you remember reading somewhere are your subconscious telling you something, it is the way the body and mind admit what you are too scared to take in for yourself. Memories of jeno next to you, and then not are what make you realize how much you hate not having the black haired boy, with the overly kind personality next to you.

And the fact you didn’t call.

Days turn into months, as the winter snow leaves the tree’s branches leaving them barren. Only for the spring rain and occasional sun to let the leaves and flowers begin to spring back up again. Teachers are at the point in the year whether they aren’t quite sure if they want to give everyone in the class a pass just so they don’t have to hear the constant complaining on the amount of assignments a student has due by tomorrow, or if they’ll give more work, more assessments as a sort of payback for the hardships they’ve had to endure throughout the year.

You are in music class, your professor going over the final assessments guidelines one last time before they are presented at the start of class tomorrow. The weight of the written sonnet feels heavy, and though the physical copy of the assignment is types out neatly somewhere in your computer, the original draft that you had begun to draft all those months ago is crumpled up in your jacket pocket, a constant reminder of everything you want and everything that you feel you can’t have.

If you close your eyes just for a second you can see yourself back in your room, until the space changes and you are no longer in your room but are at the school’s roof. The warm spring breeze tangling your hair, and making the page in front of you flutter. You didn’t need the paper, the lyrics to the musical sonnet that had been shakespeare inspired seemed to be embedded into your brain so that when you weren’t thinking about the thousands of words you still had to write when it came to the labs for biology class, or the analysis of catcher in the rye for english class, the words would replay in your head over and over. The soft melody accompanying them. Humming to the song had become a habit, one that had developed like how one realizes that they bit ethier lip, or thumbs when they are stressed or bored. A habit that once you realize it’s there you can’t help but notice it every time you do it. The notebook paper continues to rustle, and you fold it and place it into the pocket of the black jean jacket, taking a deep breath as you do so. Unlike summer nights and winter afternoons, spring doesn't feel suffocating when the sun is out, because the clouds do a job of covering the sun before it burns your skin. The wind dies down, and you begin to humm to the sonnet, the words so familiar you were almost sure if your memory was to be taken, those words would remain embedded, and make their way back up because they were an acceptance of everything you were and everything you felt.

The final bell has rang, and you can see the swarm of teenage bodies rush out of the school, some go directly to the bus stop in groups, others head to the grass fields that make up most of the school's building. You don’t think much about where others go, don’t dwell much if they get home safely or if their parents will pick them up. Dwelling too much on thoughts a feeling never helped anybody, it’s a mantra that has been drilled into you and almost every other teenager and young adult in this lifetime as movies and books tell you to focus on the present never on the future and most definitely not in the future. Yet you wonder if these books written by great authors that make you question the world around you, or movies that seem to transcend time if the authors themselves that preach about not dwelling too much on one moment if they themselves spent too much time focusing on the sound of their love’s laughter, or the way their nose would scrunch up a reaction to the world around them anytime they found something amusing. You wonder if the person or memory they were told or did think about so much that it caused them heartache had the ability to make them write the poems you had written. So you try to not dwell on the people, no larger than your thumb as they rush from one side of the campus to another, because if you thought about him, it, for too long the memories would rush back in. Instead you look down, the light vertigo causing you to snap back into some realm of reality.

Sitting down on the roof’s edge, legs dangling off the edge you continue to hum and sing to the melody that plays in your heart, confession to yourself, a confession to the dark haired boy that captured your heart. The tears seem to swell up over and over as you reach the bridge, and they stream silently, down your face. They run down landing on your hands, on the ripped jeans and doodle converse. Your mind drifts to the memories connected with the lyrics and the fact that as much as you wanted to not want to hear jeno’s voice especially after you had pushed him away, you couldn’t get rid of the way he knew you. He knew you better than at times you almost thought you knew yourself, it was a nuisance the way your heart would skip beats months after everything went down, how it would still accelerate when you two would make eye contact because he had apologized and you don’t know if it was because you had never felt this way before, or because you two kept meeting underneath the moonlight the same song that seemed to connect the two of in one string of fate that you had forgiven him. But forgiveness didn’t mean forgetting, it didn’t mean that you had wished he’d called and you hate him - or lack thereof to do so - when days passed and the beep boop ba a compilation of random noises jeno would make whenever he was confused, and your ringtone for him didn’t disturb you.

Your voice breaks slightly as the melody in your head falls, fading into a non-existent background. The sun had begun to fall, but you don’t notice, eyes closed as you take in the world around you. Notes ending, song and the hum of love never confessed, never expressed, stolen by the wind. And that’s the thing about having your eyes closed, oblivious to the world and the people around you, because you don’t hear the opening and closing of the slightly rusted door. You don’t notice the boy with a leather jacket, hair almost covering his eyes that are filled with so much love but confusion by the words that leave your mouth. It’s the thing about the wind, that it takes a message and delivers it to whom it wants you unlike a phone call that is directed at who you choose. The wind is a free spirit, and it doesn’t travel far. To be more exact it travels the short span of a mere seconds, a mere feet to jeno whose mouth has fallen at the sound of your voice so raw and pure. It is the wind that calls him to you, the wind that makes him take slow steps to you.

Wind, a warm breeze in the coming summer air, love that you don’t realize you have, you need until it’s wrapping its arms around you.

But mostly i hate the way i don’t hate you.

The moment you feel arms wrapping around you still. Every bone in your body stops moving, your legs stop swinging and your voice catches in your throat. It isn’t until you spot the small cassette tattoo on the wrist of the arms wrapped around you that you breathe again and push yourself back, a curse escaping your lips. Laughter rings in your ears as jeno holds you up from where you sit, and turns you around so that you face him. You begin to push him away, on instinct from weeks of telling yourself that you wanted nothing to do with the boy in front of you. That the way his eyes dimmed, and lips curved down by the light gesture of pushing him away didn’t affect you. It was a mantra, push him away, don’t get hurt, a mantra produced by a time of hurt and fear for being broken again. Something that you had come to realize though in the past week, the past day, past couple of minutes when someone’s arms had warped around you and you had wished it had been jeno, that the heart and the mind don’t always coincide.

It is when you look up again, and jeno is already looking at you, hair illuminated by the descending sun, as it casted flames dancing across his features, and lighting up his eyes, that you smile. Some sort of smile that repairs something in jeno, because his eyes seem to be filled with hope again and he opens his mouth ready to speak, ready to tell you everything he wanted to say again, mostly to apologize but when he opens his mouth the words seem to be caught in his throat. Stuck, as if there was some force pulling them back, not letting them escape and reach you. Mouth opens and closes again, and it’s the sound of your voice as you call to him, and say something he can’t quite process, blocked by the noise that doesn’t leave his head that he can finally speak again.

“June 21” those weren’t supposed to be the words that lef this mouth, and your confused look didn’t give him any confidence to continue whatever the hell he was gonna do, which at this point he truly didn’t know because this was supposed to be an apology but he had already apologized. Jeno decided to do his best, and try again, “that was the day we met. The day you helped me finish composing this beautiful song that helped me get into music school. The day where the second i heard you singing off the words i threw out into the open air hoping for someone to grab onto, you did, and my heart seemed to begin it’s freefall” a small smile graced your features, as you remembered the day, not knowing how much life would change. The small smile is all jeno needed to continue, gaining confidence even as happiness filled every inch of you, tears that you promised you wouldn’t shed in front of him steamed but not from sadness or anger this time. This time they were from a place of loss and happiness to the boy whose eyes conveyed so much more than the words he spoke, whose hand had come up to your cheek wiping away the spare tears that would come down. Ever so gentle and full, always him.

“It was something I didn't think was possible, you know? Coming to this new school, everyone had come up with their own ideas of who i was, because of stories they had heard, only to find you. Headstrong as ever, always standing by whatever you believe even some like pluto is still a planet” you both laugh, it’s a quick one, more like a chuckle but it’s filled with joy, at the memory. “You who didn’t care what the world thought, only that if you put your mind to it you would get it done. I never meant to fall in love with you, never meant to make you cry because of something that shouldn’t have ever happened, I never meant to get you too hate me the way you probably do” his eyes softened, and he pulled away ever so slightly, “but here I am. And i now i most definitely don’t deserve it but y/n, i can’t deny it because since i first heard your voice that late night i think i fell for you, and it has been a constant free fall from there. So when i say it now, i mean it i fucking love you” the end was more of a ramble, a long list of words that made your heart flip and expand in your chest, making your smile grow and you could see the doubt in his eyes, you could see him retreat back into himself, he completely let you go when you spoke up again, “you want to know what i hate the most?” you didn’t wait for a response before speaking again, grabbing his hands in yours, and you willed him to look at you.

“I hate the way that I don't hate you” you take a step closer to him, your faces so close the sun casting glows on you both. Two shadows becoming one behind you as the sun set, as one confessed to another the way they felt. “Because i don’t hate you, jeno. In fact it’s the opposite, because hate is not even close, not a tiny bit in resemblance to what i feel you for you,

Not even close, Not even a little bit, Not even at all.”

adfghjk and it’s finally done !!! i had so so so much fun writing this piece and seriously hope you guys enjoyed it !! im such a sucker for jeno and this movie in general lol. i struggled w the ending so i hope it came out well :) n e ways,,, please please tell me your thoughts on it, what you liked? what you didn’t like? things i could improve on. much love to you all !!

masterlist

#nct fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct imagines #luna writes #nct scenerios #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno imagines #lee jeno #nct dream #nct dream scenerios #nct dream imagines #jeno scenerios #jeno x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #fanfic

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stilinskitpose · 5 years ago

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Pining over him // Peter Hale

Pairing: Peter Hale x female reader

Warnings: nsfw , smut , slight daddy kink, hair pulling, choking, unprotected sex, tonnnn of dirty talk and just a lot of sexy sin (plotless kind of)

Characters: Peter, Derek, Stiles, Scott, implies pack, y/n

Summery: The young reader has been fantasising about the feeling of being with a real man for a while now, a real man being no other than the notorious Peter Hale. However, it’s hard to be taken seriously when Peter thinks you are no more than an annoying little teenage girl.

Word Count: lost count it’s a ton

Authors Note: This is my first time posting on tumblr, let alone posting a smut imagine soooo I don’t know how this will turn out. I’m just going with the flow of my hormonal teenage instincts ;)

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“Y/n, did you even listen to a word that I just said?”

The deepness of the voice made you snap out of you staring at the entertaining spider that was crawling up the corner wall of Dereks loft, which caused you to jump suddenly on your squished position on the coach, trapped between two clowns, Scott and Stiles.

The quiet yelp you let out made Stiles stiffle a snort causing you to elbow him in the shoulder. The fucker deserved that. You let out a content sigh and an evil smile when you heard a sound of pain from your annoying brother from another mother. What can I say, the pain he feels makes me wither in complete pleasure. I snort at my chain of thoughts and look up to see a confused Derek Hale.

"Yeah sorry, I was just-", Trailing off mid sentence thinking of a viable reason for not listening to the former Alpha. Thinking it would be funny to tell them about the entertaining spider that just crawled under the crack of the wall on the other side of the spacious loft.

“There was a spider” You answer timidly, grimacing at yourself for sounding so stupid in the room full of your pack. Derek looks at you quizzingly, you giving him the most innocent look you could muster, he sighs before letting a small smile come across his features from your utter randomness.

“I was just telling you how we need to keep you somewhere safe incase the Darach decides to pay you a visit” Derek says quickly, you sigh in annoyance hating being treated like a defenceless little girl. You understood that you weren’t anything supernatural or anything but you would think Derek would have a little faith in you since you were so handy with a frying pan from being in a near death experience with the twin Alphas not so long ago. You chuckle subconsciously at the memory.

A mutter of agreements are heard from around the loft from your oh so fellow pack members. Betrayed and defeated, you try voice your opinion on the matter.

“What? No” You probably looked like a kicked puppy. You definatly felt like one. You continued “I’m not some helpless human Derek. Stiles is more helpless than me!” You whine flicking Stiles in the head which he repeated the action harder on me causing me to poke him in the ribs.

“Why has this suddenly turned into bash Stiles day? You know I have feelings too” Stiles offendingly says, his arms spazzing at his sides to try and prove his point.

“When am I ever nice to you” you scoff jokingly earning a chuckle in agreement from him before he went back to listening to the arguement infront of him wishing he had a bowl of popcorn to go along with it.

Derek ignores Stiles and resumes telling me that it’s for my own good. Blah blah.

“Where will I even go anyway? It’s not like I have a line of people waiting to protect me from the looming and pending doom of death itself” You replied, words laced with exaggeration.

“I’ll look after her, it’s not like I have anything better to do”

The husky voice came from the corner of the room shadows dancing across the body of the person that is wanting to ‘look after her’. What am I, a dog? Y/n replied in her head afraid to reply that response out loud since the deep voice belonged to a man she have been shamefully harbouring a crush on for some time now. Peter fucking Hale.

It’s not like she was afraid to converse with him, it’s just that she was terrified of making a fool of her self by stuttering out a few syllables before halting and staring at his piercing blue eyed that made her legs buckle submissively from the dominance they give off. She doesn’t know how he does it, makes her feel like her skin is on fire whilst her heart pounds faster than humanly normal. Without even meaning to aswell. It’s like he was a complete natural at turning her into jelly without even noticing. It riles her up to no extent.

Your eyes widen in shock and your heart beat began to rise much to your dismay, knowing that he probably knew the effects he had on you, since he had spectacular werewolf senses, made you want to crawl into a ball and wither away in embarrassment. But he never made any indication that he knew either from being completely oblivious or because he wanted to salvage that slither of pride you had left for yourself. You prayed the first. But you doubted it since Peter isn’t exactly known for being the nicest human in the planet.

You knew you were probably over exaggerating and stressing about this whole situation way to much but you just couldn’t comprehend what you would do if Peter found out the way you feel since he is abit older than you, being still only a junior in highschool yourself and him being a fully grown mature man that you wanted to pounce on all the damn time. Jesus I need to get laid, preferably by the man invading my dreams at night but desperate times cause desperate measures.

“Look after me? I’m not a child, I don’t need watching over, I have things to do like watching the last season of The Vampire Diaires even though I’m shitting scared to because Stephen dies” You ramble a butt load of word vomit wanting to shut up but your nerves were your worst enemy in situations like these.

“Hey don’t aim your anger on me I’m just volenteering to keep the weak and innocent out of harms way, that’s character development if you ask me” Peter replies smugly as his gaze burns into the your own. You muster up a harsh glare at Mr Hottie before pivoting to face Derek who was evidently waying the little options he had.

“Your not seriously considering this right? You hate him, everyone hates him” I bitterly state, relunctanly turning around to meet Mr Hotties patronising gaze. The evident smirk plastered on his handsome face tells me that he’s enjoying being the cause of this conflict. Mockingly sending a small wave as if proud of the past he has with the pack before him.

Everyone once again agrees with my statement causing Peter to let out an annoyed sigh before saying “I thought we all got over this anger that has been directed towards yours truely, It will give you wrinkles if you frown at me like that sweetheart”, he humours the situation by sending a wink in my direction. Ugh.

“It’s not like we have a lot of options right now y/n, as much as I don’t like it we need as many people focused on defeating the Darach. It will only be for a few days at the maximum. I promise. Please?” Derek had is puppy dog eyes displayed making it very hard for me to deny him, so I bit my tongue and agreed.

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

Derek had dropped me off at Mr Hotties apartment with my bag laying heavy on my shoulders ready to stay for a few nights. This whole situation is bitter sweet if you ask me. Bitter because you didn’t know if these few days will hold a wave of awkwardness between the two of you and a lack of communication since the both of you have never had a proper convosation other than yesterday when he offered to keep you hostage in his apartment. And sweet because you’d have eye candy for a while. I was not complaining. It’s a win win situation.

You stroll around the apartment amused “I’m not going to lie I have always wondered if you lived in a secret lab or in an underground network of tunnels or something like that but this will do I guess ” you snickered and joked. Peter lifted an eyebrow and smirked saying “I’m not a complete animal darling”. My stomache filled with butterflies at his statement and I cleared my throat looking around the apartment once again.

Peter leaned on the doorframe and cocked his hip against it whilst his arms were crossed. Damn. He gave me a once over eyes lingering on the exposed area where my mid thigh length skirt lay. “Aren’t you a little young to be wearing that?” I frowned and looked up at his defined features past his broard strong shoulders.

“I’m nearly 18 I can wear whatever the hell I want” I scoffed. Peter held his hands up in mock surrender before strolling into the kitchen with his back facing me. I could see the defining back muscles from the outline of his green v neck and the way his bisceps flexed when reaching into one of the cupboards for two mugs. His hands. Oh holy Jesus his hands. The muscular and veiny hands gripped onto the coffee mugs send a wave of arousal downstairs. My mouth turned into an o shape as I imagined all the things those hands could do to me. All the filthy things. A girl can only take so much! As my eyes began to travel down the werewolf in front of me I started to bite my lip at the way his jeans hugged his cheeks as they clung amazingly against his thick legs that held rippling muscle. I have got to ask him what his leg day routine is.

A hand started to wave across of my face as if trying to get my attention, I averted my eyes away from the goodies to see Peter staring at me with a wide smirk along his smug face.

“Are you okay there y/n? You look a little flustered. Something on your mind?” He walked towards me untill I could feel his lips skimming the top of my ear. I gulped in suprised as my eyes widened and started stuttering out an excuse.

“Oh u-um I was just— nothing” I hung my head to look at my feet awkwardly as they began shifting from nerves.

“Hmm okay let me show you where you’ll be sleeping” he his voice rasped against my ear which sent shivers around my body.

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

He knew exactly what he was doing. I mean how couldn’t he? It was like we were playing a game of cat and mouse. More like werewolf and human. I snorted out a chuckle at my pathetic joke as I lay down on the bed in the spare bedroom that Peter allowed me to use. Glancing down at my lack of clothing, an oversized t shirt that said ‘bugs life forever’ and a pair of white lace panties I let out a heavy sigh clocking my head untill it reached the my phone saying it was 2:45am. My throat was dry from overthinking earlier with Peter, how he got so close to me, pressing his body against mine. Why would he even do that? He thinks I’m an annoying teenager. A child.

Wanting to wet my parched throat I hopped towards the kitchen quietly, attempting not to wake Peter from his room and not bothering with putting on sweatpants as I didn’t suspect anyone to see me in this state. I reached my arms out to the highest cupboard in the kitchen, straining my arm at the height of it and huffed when I couldn’t reach it. A deep voice made me freeze in my position and slowly turn around.

“Did I say you could use my kitchen without my permission?” I gasped as I saw his shirtless form, rippling muscle clouded his chest with light scattered chest hair in the centre that led towards the waistband of his sweatpants. Atleast someone thought about wearing sweatpants.

Holy Jesus for I have sinned. “I didn’t think you would have a problem with it since you offered to imprison me inside the walls of your apartment” I muttered angrily starting to once again reach for the glass that I am determined to get. Little did you know that Peters eyes wandered past the hemline of the oversized sweatshirt you were wearing that was hiked up from you stretching to reach the glass, this eyes lingered on the exposed skin of your thighs and the white lace panties that hugged the underline of your firm ass. Having these sudden dirty thoughts that clouded his mind from his previous dream feels wrong since you are much younger than him. But Jesus did it feel so right to him.

The feeling of someone pressed against you from behind startles you. You move to spin around when a deep voice interrupts you. “I’ll get it for you, don’t strain yourself darling” Peters voice seemed strained as if he was trying to keep himself together as you let out a choked sigh at how close proximity you both were to eachother. As he reached up to grab you a glass and handed it to you, your response make you regret the day you were born. Started from your hands brushing you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Thankyou daddy” Both his and your eyes widen at your statement.

Oh my god. Did I really just say that out loud? Judging by his expression, I’m pretty sure I did. Shit. What the fuck is wrong with you? Someone please just kill me right now. A werewolf could come up to me right now and kill me and I would say thankyou.

This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to mingle with others

As he was about to say something but you step back abruptly and close your eyes from shear embarrassment.

A husky voice made you jump on the spot, “ say it again” His eyes glazed over in pure hunger as he watched me like I was his prey and he was the predator.

“I-I don’t know w-what your talking about” my voice sqeaked in pure humiliation

“Say it again” he repeats himself before stalking his way towards you and wrapping his hand round your throat as he squeezed lightly sending an electric feeling of pleasure towards your core. You whimpered at the contact and threw your head back at the sight of this heated haze that bore into yours and so he could reach more of your exposed throat.

“Yes, you do. Say it again. I won’t ask a third time.” He growls and you can feel yourself begin to dampen at his forceful tone.

“Thankyou daddy” You coo.

Fuck.” He curses before lunging forward and taking your lips with his. You immediately open your mouth to his probing tongue and moan when it brushes over yours. Peter pulls away from your wet lips and traces his tongue down your throat as his lips begin to suck along the side of your neck surely leaving marks as he does it making you whine and shudder in pleasure. His impossibly enormous hands glide their way to my chest before capturing my breasts through my sweatshirt starting to kneed and pinch my nipples as he held intense eye contact with me.

“These-” he stopped to grasp them harshly before tearing the fabric of my sweatshirt off making direct contact with them this time with his warm and inviting hands that made me choke a whimper as I was being dominated by the man that I have pined over for as long as I have known him. “Are mine” he finished with a growl flashing his blue luminous eyes. His lips began to assault the hardened nipples, swirling his warm tongue round the bud then biting them teasingly.

“Say it, say that you are mine little girl” he demanded as his hand reached down to cup my pussy through my white lace panties.

“Oh god- oh god yes! I’m yours” I managed to stutter as I became a moaning mess as his magic fingers circled around my clothed clit before he moved them aside and plunged two fingers inside my tight walls.

Barely forming a grammatically correct sentence from the immense feeling of pleasure that I was going through, I reached down bravely to palm his prominent bulge that twitched under my palm.

He growled as his hands ran down your back, grabbing your ass between his hands touching outline of your pussy through your thin lace panties. He pushes you back into the kitchen until you feel your back hit the kitchen table. Peter pulls back away from your lips and flips you around, bending you over the table.

Shocked from the turn of events you let out a yelp, “What are you doing?” you moan and cry out as his hands pull down your panties, kicking your legs open with his feet.

“Giving you what you want baby” He husks as his hands pull down your shorts, kicking your legs open with his feet. You hear him unbuckle his belt before shoving his hand between your legs. “Your soaked” he groans before shoving his cock deep inside your pink and wet pussy.

“ Did you not think I’d notice how you feel about me baby? Your arousal always in the air for me to smell all the damn time I’m around you baby girl, you don’t even realise how hard it was to resist the urge to fuck you everytime I saw you” You purr in content at his sinful string of words.

“Peter please” you beg. He slaps your ass hard causing you to let out a loud moan. “That’s not my name” he glares. Realising what you meant it took you no time before pleasing him again.

“Daddy! O-oh fuck yes!”

“That’s a good girl, I’m going to fucking ruin you” he growls in your ear making you whimper. His dirty words only spurring how turned on you are.

“Please don’t stop what your doing” your desperate gasps are all that he needed to fuck you untill your screaming his name.

He begins to ram his cock in and out of your pussy as you let out a stream of loud and sinful moans, pounding you into the table, making the table legs squeak against the hard floor. He reached round to grip your hair as the other slings around your throat holding you in place as he begins to whisper dirty words into your ear that makes you eager to feel your pussy pulsate around his hard and thick length.

“Who knew you were such a naughty girl y/n? Desperate to feel my cock inside you, I bet you like it when I fuck you don’t you? Huh? Rough and hard?” You managed to humm before it turned into a stuttered moan as you felt yourself beginning to quiver and your legs to shake he continued to pound you with his cock.

Suddenly the feeling of a knot forming below your stomache makes you stutter out a moan “ holy shit, yes, yes!” You scream as you come undone around him as he continues to pound you through your orgasm. A stream of grunts follow after yours as he came inside you, milking your walls with his hot cum.

“Wow, that was unexpected” you grunt as you try and catch your breath, leaning against the kitchen table.

“You started it, calling me daddy and all” he teased whilst he send you a smirk.

“Well I’ll call you daddy as much as you want next time” you reach out to pull at his short hair leaning to give him a subtle kiss on his lips that lingered.

“Darling, next time I plan to fuck that warm little mouth with my cock” he growls.

That can definitely be arranged

#peter hale #peter hale smut #peter x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf one shot #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf fanfiction #smut

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years ago

Text

The boy on the farthest table

Kanene’s Notes:

So, I’ve been reading all the fluff content with Dadzawa I could find and I am very surprised I didn’t manage to stumble in a Dadzawa running a Cat Café so I thought ‘h e y’ why don’t I make it??? SO here we are!!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Dadzawa and Yamadad and their relatonship can be seen as romantic, if you wish.

* This happens in the same universe as This Fanfic Here and you can also find it on AO3.

* No warnings this time!! Only fluff and a bit of hurt/comfort.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing the manga/anime Boku no Hero.

* Something around 2.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Eat a delicious snack, sleep a bit, take care and drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Aizawa doesn’t really care about his clients more than the strictly necessary amount. He arrived where he is because of the cats and the coffee. If people paid more because he decided to mix both together and open a business with that premise than better for him.

So, yes. Aizawa doesn’t care at all about his clients. Neither held any favorites above the others, don’t matter what Yamada tried to imply with his ‘discrete’ smug eyes and knowing grin as, for the second time today, the black haired worker narrowed his eyes at the boy sitting on the farthest table, lost in his deep thoughts as he stared intently at his notebook just like he has been doing for the past two hours, lazy scribbles fulfilling the lines in a tired, yet determined attempt to keep going.

The owner of the Cat Café didn’t really care about what his clients did as long it didn’t annoy his cats or him.

However, that doesn’t mean he kept himself completely oblivious of what happened at his establishment nor the persons who attended there.

Perhaps he wasn’t the most enthusiastic worker there – that is why him and Hizashi had an unspoken agreement that he would stay firm on his place making drinks and serving pastries, sometimes scaring some insufferable clients away, while the louder, social friend would focus in talking and getting the orders, – but he knew enough to not be a bad one.

He knew that the girl with yellow bright eyes and nuts and bolts shining in between her curls liked strawberry muffins, tended to not be able to stand still for much time, and visited on Fridays, so he always kept one baked sweet hidden for her on these days.

Just like he always recognized that tall, skeleton-like adult as soon as his form crossed the door. A client who came especially for the cats and the Jasmin tea, although always sneaked a couple and more glares to the cat-themed cookies, so he made sure to “accidentally” drop one with the donuts he always asked to go for “- a friend! He loves them but is often very busied with work… So, I thought I could try and treat him a bit after everything he already did to me!” And also, who, in the next day, came back to attempt to pay for the free cookie but was, day after day, defeat by Hizashi’s stubbornness and convincing abilities, leading the loyal client to make sure to put a generous tip on the Tip Jar as a revenge, making sure to stare intently at the pouting worker during the whole process.

Or the young girl with red eyes full of curiosity and a tongue full of questions which him and Yamada took turns to answer, eliciting shy smiles, bright excitement and a glare full of gratitude from her older brother, who used the free time to study while she ate and played with the kittens, sometimes even falling asleep when his two friends – an extremely quiet boy with a gigantic sweet tooth and an electric smiley girl who always convinced the younger one to help her to gather the biggest amount of sleepy cats to nap on the blond teen before he wakes up in the middle of purrs and laughter - accompanied them.

That being said, Aizawa liked to be informed and, above everything else, was good at getting the information he needed. He mastered the skill of analyzing details and understanding situations others used to ignore, making connections and arriving to conclusions that seemed foreign to others, that is why he continued to cast quick frowns and glances to the boy, doesn’t liking at all how his brain continued to run and turn, seeking for any answer or hints of what happened to him, only to get at nowhere. He was, obviously, just trying to assert the situation, which had nothing to do with the fact that the boy – always shining, always with such a bright smile every time he ordered anything – was alone on this Saturday. A not so rare occasion, since even though the café was a common place for him and his friends to meet – an occurrence impossible to ignore due how full of energy and joy and chaos and energy they all were, - he also seemed very keen to spend hours writing and studying on his own.

However, there was something different today. Something to do with how quiet, concentrated, calm, lethargic the teenager was acting the whole time, which worrie- no, intrigued him.

Because Aizawa wasn’t worried. Of course not. That would be illogical and preposterous. He wasn’t anything to the child, not his family, not a friend, not a relative, just the guy who grunted a one-word answer every time the younger tried to make small talk and pretend to not notice him and Hizashi trading cute cat videos and pics during the blonde’s breaks.

Hell, he didn’t even share more words than the necessary with the green haired boy. The longest interaction they ever had was when the younger one came to him on his first time visiting the place and asked for more cat toys, since all the available ones were already being used. Which maybe or maybe not led to Aizawa leaving his friend to deal alone with the orders while he took his time to show and explain the favorite toys of every cat the green boy pointed.

Which was, sure, only a revenge on his boisterous coworker since the aforementioned interrupted his morning nap by tripping on him on his way to the kitchen (and yes, it was Yamada’s fault for not looking at where he’s going and obviously not Shouta’s because he decided to ‘JUST FREAKING PASS OUT ON THE FLOOR. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO SEE IT?’) and, not content with his actions, decided to lock the other out of his own establishment, only letting him come back after lunch and, consequently, at least five hours of sleep, leaving him on the care of Nemuri, who proceeded to tease him unmercifully for the whole length of yesterday.

Consequently, it was only a payback, of course. The gleam on the smaller’s eyes as he took notes on a well worn out notebook and the fact that, on the next Saturday, the boy distributed all the correct toys between his friends and their favorite cats were two completely ignorable things and therefore unrelated with the quick, barely visible smile appearing on the corner of his mouth on the respective day and every time he remembered that occurrence.

But, when a quiet sniff reached his ears, Aizawa almost felt his neck crack with how quickly he turned on the other’s direction, just in time to see the ending of the teenager’s action of wiping a few tears away. The one who definitely didn’t get enough sleep on his entire life to deal with it sensed his left eye twitch.

That. Is. It.

“Shouta…” Hizashi whispered behind the usual smile he plastered for the customer in front of him, nodding while writing down what she said and chipping excitedly for her to just wait a little bit to get her order, deviating his attention to his friend when she moved away to sit in one of the unoccupied tables, both taking the opportunity of having no more customers in the line to held some private words. “Do you want me to go there?” his voice was bathed in worry, because his coworker was emotional like that.

“No.” And Aizawa didn’t know why he was so fast to answer, however he was already washing his hands, mind running, seeking to remember how other people - besides his friends, who were barely humans, - worked. “You know I hate being the cashier.”

“Riight.” His way-too-smug-grin was fast to become a snicker when his friend aimed a kick on his shin, which he promptly dodged. “Hey! I didn’t even say anything!”

“Your thoughts are loud. I will be right back.”

His eyes were focused on the kid, who now was curled on his chair, chin resting on his knees as his arms firmly hugged his legs, making him look even smaller.

Aizawa grunted, part of him feeling inclined to just drop an entire gallon of water on his head to successfully wash all his problems way, or maybe shake all the bad, lying thoughts taking over his mind and resulting in a few tears to escape what, on its turn, made a strong feeling of protectiveness, which was immediately ignored, shines on him. But Shouta knew he couldn’t act on any of those two options because it wasn’t “socially acceptable” – nor very useful, but he ignored that part, - and “problems” and “people” tended to be more complicated to help than that.

The older sighed, kneeling on the spot before the front door where the sun passed through the window and made a perfect warm piece of floor for the big, - extremely big - messy pile of purple fluff lay and nap without a single worry in the world, not even stirring as the customers had to tiptoe around him to get in and out of the establishment.

Shinsou hissed when Shouta first petted him, although was fast to purr louder than a machine as the human began to scratch behind his ears, going back to his peaceful sleep. He was the most calm, chill and snarky cat he has ever seen. His hobbies consisting on getting on the highest shelves to watch the entire place with a judging, tired glare and napping on people’s laps, especially when they were about to head out, which made his customers to order something else and stay for at least more fifteen minutes, not having the heart to interrupt the purple’s sleep.

Needless to say, he and Aizawa got along just fine. Even with the animal’s habit of climbing him to nap on his shoulders and teaching the younger kittens to do the same thing, knowing very well the one with dark hair would never have the heart to put them away, the human knew he sustained a soft spot for him.

Nemuri and Yamada liked to tease him, affirming that Shinsou was his cat form and Shouta would never admit he agreed with them.

He also ignored the implications of that when he remembered Shinsou was one of the green haired bag of energy favorites.

“I have a mission for you.” It was the only mumbled warning the cat had before being carefully scoped on the human’s arms, melting on the embrace, hissing, yawning and then proceeding to melt even further. Shouta huffed, amused.

‘Brat.’

Another signal that the teenager was much more trapped in his mind than the normal was the fact he didn’t realize the adult coming closer, nearly jumping three feet in the air as Aizawa’s command hit him.

“Sit correctly.”

The teenager yelped, looking at him, at himself and then at him again, a strong shade of an ashamed red taking over his features. “O-o-of course, sir! I am sorry!” He bowed, putting his feet on the ground and straightening his back, a slight tremble on his movements making the adult frown.

“Don’t think too much about this.” And before any protest could come out of the other’s mouth, Aizawa laid Shinsou on his legs, leading the boy to freeze completely, eyes locked on the cat, who just blinked lazily at him and started to knead his thighs, low, rumbling purrs escaping, demanding the new human as worthy.

A barely suppressed squeal flew from the younger, who already seemed ready to cry again, although for different reasons.

The cat café’s owner hid his amused smile by catching a kitten who approached with curiosity, petting him and proceeding to flop him on the soft, green curls. Ojiro meowed, purring and immediately attempting to eat his new environment.

“I…” His wide, wobbly smile increased further as Shinsou butted his head on the teenager’s palm, his voice, a whisper, lapsing for a beat. “I love them.”

There was no way for the adult to hide his snort at his words, but the Problem Child seemed unfazed with his reaction, turning to him with shiny eyes and smile.

“Thank you so much, sir!”

After a nod, Aizawa turned away and came back to his spot behind the counter. And if talking and taking orders when Hizashi uses part of his break to “discreetly” take a few pictures of a beaming boy smiling to the camera and pointing the cats on him to send to him later, is much more bearable than before? It has absolutely nothing to do with the young figure on the farthest table sporadically giggling as he plays with an Ojiro who is fiercely convinced he can win the battle against the red laser.

[…]

“Excuse me, Yamada-san. I’m sorry, but my order was 476 yens and you only charged me 200.” Aizawa knew the boy was going to lose the fight the moment Hizashi only grinned and locked the cashier, completely ignoring the two pieces of paper on the other’s hand.

“Don’t worry about it, little listener! Don’t worry! Take this as a thank you for letting Shinsou and Ojiro sleep on you for one hour, okay?”

“B-but sir! It was no problem at all!” The way he moved to prove his point made Aizawa picture a small, energetic bunny. “I really like them and I was going to stay here longer anyway!”

“Now, now, young boy.” Hizashi pointed a finger at him, trying and failing miserably to see or sound at least a tad chastising. “Refusing a ‘thank you’ is a serious offense, I wonder if I will need to give you a free blueberry muffin to go because of that…”

“No!” Aizawa huffed, turning away from them and heading to the tables, taking the opportunity of how low the business was to clean and prepare them for the next customers, stopping right on his tracks, mid step as a wide, pleading glare found his. “Aizawa-san,” he shook the 276 yens at his direction, puppy eyes staring right on his soul, “please.”

The dark-haired one scoffed, looking away from the powerful graze. “Don’t bring me into this. Fight your own battles, problem child.”

Hizashi laughed at the pout he received in response, having pity on the loyal customer. “Okay, okay. I give. You can pay for this.” Aizawa glared at him, one eyebrow up in a non convinced expression. His friend winked, big grins as the younger turned to him, much more smiley. “With a hug.”

Problem child seemed surprised, especially when the flamboyant employee jumped across the counter and stopped in front of him, arms open in an invitation. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” His voice was softer. “I can always accept 100 yens if you really want me to, little listener.”

He didn’t understand the magic thing his friend always managed to do. The way he succeeded to dance around someone’s barriers, finding openings and walking through them, asking no permission to get closer yet always attentive when to stop and retreat or to talk about every or anything. The same magic he showed when they were teenagers.

Tsuyu meowed and Aizawa kneeled down to give her attention for as long as the embrace lasted, pretending to not notice the two hugging behind him, the taller lightly swaying them while the younger relaxed, melting on the touch.

A few seconds later the anxious bunny was bowing, thanking them and getting out with a gleam on his face, hugging happily the notebook next to his chest and petting Cloud before going away. Shouta came back to his spot, Yamada followed and the green hair disappeared on the corner.

“We’re not adopting the Problem Child.”

“But he already even has a nickname! Shoutaaa, it’s meant to be! And you’re already soft for him as well, don’t deny it.”

He scoffed. “Shut up. You try to say no to those fucking puppy eyes next time.”

“You fought well,” Hizashi patted his shoulder, his own gaze getting a dangerous, gleaming light. “Dadzawa.”

The rarefied clients distributed across the café jumped when, between laughter and dramatics cries of pain, the blonde fell on the ground, a half pleased, half evil smile presenting itself on the shorter’s face in a flash before his impassive expression took over and he calmly continued with his usual chores, pointedly ignoring the ‘It was so worthy it’ snickered by his friend, still laid on the floor.

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like-the-wings-of-butterflies · 5 years ago

Text

Smitten (John Deacon x Taylor! Reader)

Summary: Your brother Roger invites you to meet his bandmates and it seems the bassist has caught your eye

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,433

Requested By: @not-john-watsons-blog - Hey love! If you have time, could I request something? Like maybe something where the reader is Roger's sister (but like very different personality, a lot quieter and more relaxed lol) and he brings her into the studio and everyone thinks she's gonna be another Roger but then she's very different and Deaky kinda starts to get a crush on her and it's cute fluffiness from there. Does that make sense? Lol. Also if you don't have time, no worries! Thanks for your time :)

A/N: This is literally months overdue but thank you so much being my first ever requested fic! My biggest apologies for taking so incredibly long but I promised you I’d write it so I hope this is something similar to what you had in mind ♡

“What if they don’t like me Rog?”

“Oh shut up would you? They’re going to love you.” Roger promised somewhat irritatedly as he kept his eyes on the oncoming traffic; growing tired of your repetitive ‘what if’ scenarios.

The nervous anticipation grew heavier in your stomach as you rolled into the studio’s parking lot. These were up-and-coming musicians you were about to meet; not only that, but your brother’s up-and-coming best friend musicians. Although you knew Roger was hardly one to waste his time on people who were unkind or brash, in addition to his constant reassurance, part of you still feared his bandmates wouldn’t like you.

For Roger’s sake, you wanted to make a good impression. God did you want to make a good impression.

“I promise it’s going to be fine.” Roger vowed sincerely, giving you a final reassuring hug before swinging open the door to the band’s assigned room.

- - - - - - - - - -

Roger didn’t speak of you often but when he did, his face always lit up in sincere adoration of his younger sibling. Much like Brian and Freddie, John knew very little about you except for the fact that you were studying at the University of West London and Roger had two years on you, making you the same age as him.

As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise and although he felt bad for making assumptions, John realised he already had a preconceived opinion of you. He expected you to be exactly like Roger; loud and extroverted. It wasn’t that he disliked Roger - he felt quite the opposite actually - but one Roger was simply enough. If you were anything like he expected you to be, the pair of you would only rile each other up, two marginally chaotic and excitable siblings making little room for productivity.

Your awkward wave and quiet: “It’s lovely to meet you all.” following Roger’s introduction was all it took for John to retract his assumptive statements. You hid somewhat behind Roger before Freddie bounded over, gushing over you and doing his best to make you feel welcome. John felt slightly more at ease when he discovered Brian felt similarly to what he did, but Freddie was a bit more open-minded and convinced them to at least give you a chance. Now he was glad he did.

John always thought that love at first sight was for suckers, at least - he used to. You were absolutely gorgeous. The good looks ran in the family it seemed, you donning the same bright smile that got Roger any girl he wanted.

He didn’t realise he was starting until you quietly coughed and gingerly offered your hand to him, which he took quickly to hide his embarrassment.

“John,” He spoke through a comfortable smile. “John Deacon.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Not wanting your presence to interrupt the group, you spent the morning sitting quietly in the back of the mixing room, enjoying the process. You quietly offered your thoughts and advice from time to time which the boys seemed to find helpful and you were elated when they showed you a few of the completed songs for the upcoming album.

Watching you interact with others allowed Brian, Freddie and John to see how you couldn’t be more unlike your brother. You shared the same unique flare, but for the most part, your personalities were largely different. While he was loud and extroverted, you were calmer and far more down to earth. You contrasted Roger’s personality almost entirely, yet while together you complimented each other, sharing deep bond that didn’t go unnoticed.

- - - - - - - - - - -

One way or another, when you returned to the studio after a short lunch break, you found the recording booth completely empty, save for John behind the mixing deck. He had his back turned to you, busily plucking the strings of his bass over a halfway finished recording of a song you vaguely remember Roger referring to as: ‘Stone Cold Crazy’.

As the chorus came around, he began humming the lyrics to himself and bopping his head to the beat. John was yet to notice your presence, seemingly too engrossed in the music to take any notice. When he began dancing on the spot, you giggled quietly to yourself as you watched him, quickly snapping a hand over your mouth as your realised your mistake.

His head turned to face you quickly, he smiled shyly as his eyes met yours before turning back to pause the playback in a desperate attempt to hide the blush that was creeping up his cheeks.

“Sorry (Y/N), I didn’t even realise you came in.” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of head.

‘How embarrassing’ He cursed silently to himself.

“No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have crept up on you.” You apologised profusely, before taking a seat on one of the sofas and sifting through the various magazines on a side table, allowing him to practice in peace. As much as you would’ve loved to speak to him a bit more, you were at the studio as a guest after all, the least you could do was actually let him do his job.

And although you didn’t necessarily mean to watch him over the edge of the magazine for the next ten or so minutes, you found you couldn’t help doing so anyway. There was something about him that brought on the all-too-familiar feeling of butterflies to your stomach, making you feel like a giddy teenager when he said your name.

Once he’d played the final note on the third repeat of the song, you noticed how stagnant his movements were since you made your presence known. Instead he stood still, looking down at his bass with his back turned to you.

“I didn’t stop you from dancing did I?” You squeaked apologetically.

“No not at all,” He lied, lifting the strap over his head and placing the instrument on a nearby stand, “Just focusing on not messing up in front of you.” He laughed, taking a seat across from you and doing his best to not embarrass himself.

“I hope not, it was cute.” You mused, shocking yourself with the random spurt of confidence in your being and coming to terms with the fact that you actually said that, quickly becoming a bright shade of red.

Stunned, his lips parted lightly and his eyebrows raised in surprise, the hue of his cheeks tinting to match yours as he ran a hand over his face. He was a man of few words as is, preferring to catalyse his feelings into his music, but you; you well and truly took his breath away.

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

The remainder of the day passed by swiftly, largely spent sharing spare moments talking with John, and before you knew it the sun had begun to set on the London skyline and your day at the studio had come to an end.

“Come back soon okay?” Freddie beamed mid-hug while Brian - who you’d already said goodbye to - stood in the doorway talking with Roger about god knows what. After promising Freddie you’d come back as soon as Roger allowed it, you turned to John.

“It was nice meeting you John, I hope to see you around.” You smiled earnestly.

“You too (Y/N).” He responded before pulling you into an embrace of his own. When you pulled away, his hands fumbled around in his pockets for a moment before pulling out a pen and a small square of paper, quickly scribbling down a series of numbers before folding it and handing it to you.

“I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I didn’t give you my number now would I?” He flirted adventurously, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before Roger turned around.

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

“Can I come back tomorrow?”

Roger laughed to himself, “I take it you enjoyed their company then?”

“Thoroughly.” You nodded with a childish grin plastered on your face, the skin on your cheek tingling as you fiddled with the folded paper held tightly in your grasp.

“As much as I give you my blessing, you surprised me back there,” Roger interrupted as he skipped down the steps of the studio entrance, a cheeky smirk playing on his lips as he spun the car keys around his finger.

You looked at him with a furrowed brow, silently encouraging him to finish his thought as you slipped into the leather-clad passenger seat. His smile only brightened as he gestured to the concealment in your palm, hidden away from his knowing eyes, “I always thought Brian was more your type.”

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

Tags: @kelleypenac @chloblo6 @crazyweirdocalledfriday

(Don’t hesitate to let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

#john deacon x reader #brian may x reader #roger taylor x reader #freddie mercury x reader #queen x reader #bohemian rhapsody x reader #borhap x reader #joe mazzello x reader #gwylim lee x reader #ben hardy x reader #john deacon #brian may #roger taylor #freddie mercury #queen #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #fanfic #fluff

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cloudyyoonji · 5 years ago

Text

Power Up!

Bang Chan x Reader

REQUESTED BY ANON

Summary: Hard days of work = fluffy cuddles from your boyfriend

Genre: Lil angst, but Fluffy!

____________________________

You shake the rude teenage customers from your mind as you finally clock out for the day, eyes dragging through the deserted street as you lock the door behind you.

You’d been working unforgivably hard for the blurred weeks. You barely could remember the days now.

Just what day was it?

You’d barely been at home long enough to see the date or the time, sleeping for a few hours only to do it all again tomorrow.

You hadn’t even seen your boyfriend, besides glimpses of his jacket as he rounded the corner. While he was producing music, you were serving customers with a false smile.

But today even your crease-free concealer had caved in on you, customers noting your pale appearance with as equally much concern as your co-workers. Still, you waved it off with a smile, saying you were probably developing a common cold, which you had actually suspected might have been the case.

But your cold-like symptoms slowly processed; a racking cough, a running nose. Maybe you’d been too neglectful of your health.

Keys jammed into the keyhole of your apartment, you very obviously had the flu.

Bag slipping off your shoulder, you make your way to the bathroom in sluggish steps.

Clothing wrinkled by time and hard labour, you shed off your second skin and make a measly shot at the washing basket in the corner, redressing only for your head to fall into your hands.

Grunting in frustration at your sick appearance, you flick the faucet on, hands filling with cold water to spill over your face.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Sighing at your unbending tiredness, you raise your hands to the water once more.

“Hey,”

The face in the mirror comes to the light as he steps in, voice soft and hand-pressed into your shoulder blade. “Sweetheart, come to bed. You look terrible.”

Despite his good intentions, you push him off.

“I’m okay Chan, I just need to shower first.”

So you turn, making your way to the shower unapologetically, too exhausted to notice - or remember- the raised step before it collides with your foot.

But Chan catches you, a grim expression on his face as he leads you back to your room.

Despite your apprehension, as soon as your head hits the pillow you feel some sort of sense of relief.

Chan’s hand comes to rest of your forehead, the mattress dipping beside you.

“You’re burning up. I think you’ve worked yourself sick.”

Opening your eyes, you see worried ones staring back at you. With a cheesy smile, you nod in response.

“I think I might text my boss."

“I think that's a good idea. You look really sick.”

Pressing send on the text makes you feel even better, slumping back into the pillows, cheesy smile plastered on your features as you give a single confirming nod too Chan.

“It's done.”

“You should rest now. Its been a while since I’ve seen you do at least that.”

Now you groan in a mixture of agreement and annoyance.

“Works been hectic. But right now I’d be happy to get some actual sleep."

“That sounds like a good plan.”

With your hand falling onto his cheek, he smiles gingerly, pulling you a little closer for you to collect some well-earned sleep together.

****

Your alarm sound is harsh, its beeping disturbing not just your slumber, but probably everything in a 1km radius. With a groan, you turn around to shut it off but are stopped by Chan’s arm, which has already shut off the alarm and is back around you.

“Go back to sleep. You don’t have to work today.”

“Hm,” you hum happily. “It's really nice."

With a laugh, you two stay in bed for a little while longer, eyes shut, bodies still.

You’re not even aware you’ve gone back to sleep until you open your eyes to see Chan’s side of the bed empty.

Pushing yourself up, your eyes search the deserted room, hands raking through your hair in an attempt to push it away from your face.

With one last check to see if the boy is completely M.I.A, you steal his hoodie from the back of the chair, pairing it with a random pair of jeans found in the washing basket as you take a shower to simply scrub off this sick feeling in your bones.

“Hey, is that my hoodie?”

You rush away from the boy once your downstairs, stealing a pancake from the plate as you cross to the other side of the bench.

“Of course it's not.” You reply, laughing when he rolls his eyes, spatular raised in his hand.

“What do you want to do today?” He asks, flipping the last pancake over in a simple motion.

“Hm, maybe we could just-oh.”

Your ringtone interrupts you, face dropping at the sight of your ‘work’ contact.

You roll your eyes at Chan, making a face as you answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N,” You immediately recognise your coworker's voice, “I’m so sorry to call you like this. I know you called in today and can't work, but this is sort of an emergency.”

You sigh. Watching as Chan shakes his head, indicating for you to decline.

“I really can't work today if that's what you're asking me.”

“No, No, No.” she’s frantic as if she’s shaking her head. “Nothing like that. There are some people here asking for you. I've told them your not in but they won’t leave. Do you think you’d be able to come in and tell them too in your scary manager voice? I’ll cover you for the rest of the week, I swear."

You think about this, giving Chan a blank look for a moment before nodding.

“Fine. But you seriously better, otherwise you’ll get the scary manager voice.”

She bids you her uttermost thanks in busts of relief, the phone clicking off as you turn to Chan.

“There’s an issue at work.”

He gives you a flat look, holding up the spatula in threat.

“You said you wouldn’t go.”

Shaking your head, you can’t but help laugh at his ’threatening appearance.’

“I’m not working. Some people are asking for me and no one can get rid of them. I’ll use my scary manager voice on them, don’t worry. We’ll be like 10 minutes tops, I promise.”

He rolls his eyes, trading the spatula for a set of car keys.

“Fine. But only 10 minutes.”

You at work in the blink of an eye, Chan parking right outside.

“Just stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He gives you a nod and a smile.

The moment you enter the room, you swear under your breath, body wanting to just turn straight back around.

The teenage girls from yesterday stand at the counter, phones and bitchy attitudes in hand.

Over the counter, your co-worker gives you a half exasperated, half thankful look, making you even more annoyed.

“What seems to be the problem here?”

Any trace of your friendliness is gone, your stoic manager voice making a comeback.

You knew these girls all too well.

They were self-proclaimed JYPE prodigy trainees, bitchy attitudes making them automatically better than everyone else.

“Finally,” the blond rolls her eyes at you, stance leaned to the side.

“We’ve been asking for you.”

“Yes, and pestering staff when they’ve already told you that I am not in-store today. This is highly unprofessional for some trainees.”

Your gaze goes to your co-worker at the counter, eyes transferring your exasperation.

“Look, girls, I’m actually quite sick at the moment, and I’m running out of patience here.”

“We have an issue to discuss with you.”

You gesture for her to continue, leaning against the counter now as they look at each other smugly.

“We’ve been talking,” the brunette starts, fingers twirling in her hair. “And we think that it's best for you to break up with Bang Chan, for his career and the company status.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“And that’s for you to decide is it?”

“It’s not just us!” the third girl bursts. “Its a lot of trainees actually.”

You deadpan her.

“This is bullshit and you know it.”

“No, actually it's perfectly reasonable. We just want the best for Chan, and you are just not that. We explained that yesterday.”

“The best for me?” Chan’s voice is loud in the abandoned shop front, eyebrows raised in question.

The girls group together in front of you, turning from raging bitches, into squealing fangirls in less than a millisecond.

“This is highly inappropriate you know, to harass someone on her day off. She came all the way here to sort this issue out, but you continue to harass her. I’m disappointed, and as JYP trainees, this is even more disappointing.”

“Chan!” The girl's voice is high, shrilling. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

“No,” he shakes his head “You have no right to call me that. As your senior, I’m going to have to inform all your teachers.”

With his bitter parting words, he takes your wrist and pulls you out of the shop.

“Hey,” He stops you once you're outside, hand lightly on your arm.

“Have they bothered you before?”

You shake your head, giving him your best reassuring smile.

“You’re sure? Because I’m going to report them anyway. So if they’ve bothered you before…”

“Chan,” You give him a small smile. “It's okay.”

He gives you a look in return, opening the car door for you to get in, the car ride silent

on the way home.

You groan in somewhat relief when your feet touch the carpet of your living room, body flopping onto the couch. Chan is right behind you, body falling onto the couch as yours does.

“We should watch a movie.” You say, picking up the remote to shuffle through Netflix.

He only hums in response, making you look at him.

“What's wrong?” You ask, brows furrowing in concern.

“I know she came to you yesterday. I heard her say it…”

When you say nothing in response, he continues.

"I’m just mad that a trainee would do such a thing. It's not fair on you.”

You give him another small smile, hand on his arm to calm him down a little.

“Chan. It's okay.”

“No, people shouldn’t treat you like this, even if you are dating an idol.”

You nod again, understanding of his frustration.

“I know. It's alright,” You tell him. "They didn’t hurt me, and nothing would ever make me leave you. I don’t care that you’re an idol. Your just Chan to me. The Chan who routinely cooks pancakes on the weekend. The Chan who FaceTimes me when I’m doing a late-night shift so I’m not alone. The Chan who goes to work every day to make awesome music; just Chan.”

He smiles, eyes locked on yours.

Mirroring his smile, you press your body into his side.

“Why don’t we watch Howl’s Moving Castle? I could use a movie.” Chan says arm around your shoulders now, leaning into you.

“And I could certainly use some cuddles.”

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stopeatingwhales · 4 years ago

Text

school friends x graham coxon

okay so, this is like my first shot at a one-shot type thing, i’m unsure if i like it but i do hope you guys like it! there’s barely any fics on here so i thought today was the day i was going to contribute hehe, anyways enjoy this soft school shit

Paring: high school graham x reader

Warnings: nothing, just some cute shit

Word count: 1.956

༉‧₊˚✧

The shouts and echoes of kids chattering down the mundane hallways of the school rung through my ears. Period change was always the worst; crowded corridors, people pushing past you without the audacity to apologise, the parroting of the loathsome school bell, stating lesson had begun, and even some hair pulling if we’re talking about the obnoxious fools who have little care towards not only their education, but everyone elses. Everyday was like this - it seemingly felt like a continuous ambush, leading up to the day I walk out the doors. Some days were better than others, though. If you were able to rush out of class just as the bell dismissed you, you would be able to avoid the agonising horror that is, people.

Walking into the science room, I scurried to my usual seat, unpacking my things silently. I was sat by the window at the back, and although my eyes could barely read the board most of the time, it was bearable; I was sat in one of the most peaceful spots I was able to stumble upon campus. My attention span was limited towards the subject; I was more of a humanities person, which made looking outside the window one of the greatest things in the 50 minutes of learning, and in general. It was relaxing, watching nothing but the wind howl, the leaves sweep past the grey concrete, the occasional teacher jog by - clearly late for something.

Snapping me out of my significant trance, I turned my head to see not only a filled class, but Graham, the person who sits next to me in this particular lesson. Graham was nice, he rarely talked but for the several years we’ve both been attending the school, I had seemingly formed somewhat of a fondness for him - a crush you could say.

“Hey!” he cheered, a big grin plastered on his face.

“Hey, what’s the cheerfulness for?” I laughed, quieting my voice as the lesson had begun. He was like me - we both had little to no interest in either science. I felt as if that was what blossomed our friendship, the idea that neither of us wanted to pursue a career in the subject, or maybe because we were similar. We both were quiet, content people, only speaking when there’s something needed to be said. I had most of my friends in separate classes, and Graham mostly spent his lunchtimes with people like Damon Albarn in the music room, someone I had never seen nor spoken to in my life.

“It’s last period and I found a tenner in my bag, I didn’t have lunch today so I’m perhaps going to treat myself to some chicken after school,” He grinned, turning his back to rummage through his bag, grabbing the note and wavering it around in my face. Gigging quietly, I shook my head, watching him bring the note to his nose, inhaling the scent of the paper. He had his eyes shut - showing the emphasis of his delight to the finding.

Me and Graham were the basic definition of ‘school friends’, you’d never meet up but you act as if you’re close. Sometimes I wished for that to change, for him to ask for us to meet up one day, and get to know each other. Things like that don’t happen to school friends though, regardless of how much I had wanted them to. I never gathered the courage to ask him myself; the thought that he’d reject me, or ask the horrifying question why, removed the potentiality of that ever being words that would leave my mouth.

“Graham Coxon, put that money away and focus on your work!” The teacher yelled, catching both me and Graham in shock - the teacher was old enough not to notice that there were students at the back of his classroom, or so we had thought.

Graham, startled by the sudden attention and sea of eyes that had turned to look at him, awkwardly ran a hand through his hair, shoving the money in his pencil case. “Sorry Sir,” he mumbled, looking down at his unopened exercise book.

For the rest of the lesson, it was silence between the both of us, especially with Graham. Little things like teachers calling him out usually caused him to silence himself for a while, something which made my ‘fondness’ of him stronger; he was able to show his sensitive side, unlike the vast majority of any teenage boys who would find it ‘wimpy’.

I patted his shoulder slightly in a form of comfort, tilting my head, trying to meet eye-to-eye with him. His eyes got caught with mine, his facial expression showing nothing but how much he was fed-up the lesson was still going on - it felt like hours since it had begun. As if on cue however, the teacher was cut off by the disgustingly loud bell, resulting in the class being over. Me and Graham jolted in our seats, both wide smiles spread on our faces. I got out of my seat swiftly, crouching down to grab my black rucksack underneath the table, gathering my things to put them away.

Standing up, I swung the bag over my shoulder, turning to look at Graham. “You okay?”

“Yeah, he just really pissed me off you know,” he replied, chewing on his top lip. I nodded in response, stretching my arms out in the air as I yawned.

“At least now you’ll be able to have some nice food,” I said, walking out of the classroom with him. We both usually walked the same way home, so it was normal for us to continue our small chats on the way out of the premises.

“Yeah about that,” he said, pushing one of the hall doors open, allowing me to walk through first. I smiled sweetly at his actions, my heart warming at how kind he was. “Do you- you don’t have to, by the way, but- do you want to go with me? I’m going there alone so,”

Once hearing those words, I stopped in my tracks. Did I mishear something? Or was he genuinely asking if I would like to be his accomplice? Brushing a few stray baby hairs from my face, my top lip captured my teeth, my heart rate now so loud it echoed through my ears, just like the same shouts of kids in the school halls, who were now pushing past my limp body.

“Y/N?” Graham asked, pulling at my arm, as the once empty halls began to cramp together with more and more of screamy teenagers excited to leave school for the weekend. I blinked a few times, trying to regain some sort of consciousness. I took a deep breath, feeling Graham’s strong gaze shining over me. “Like I said, you don’t have to-”

“No,” I blurted out, mentally slapping myself in the face for the mess I had made myself, over just one question. Swallowing hard, I regained my breath. “I would love to go with you Graham,”

~~~

“What do you want?” he asked, turning his head back to look at me, patiently waiting behind him.

“No, it’s fine I’ll pay for myself,” I smiled, my heart once again warmed from his sweet gestures.

“No, no, I have enough for the both of us, what do you want?” he argued back, resulting in me sighing and staring back at him with a you-really-don’t-have-to look, to which he raised his eyebrows carelessly. Knowing he wouldn’t give in, I reluctantly placed a small order of fries; I wasn’t that hungry for something more, and I still felt bad that Graham paid.

As we both sat down with our food, we began talking about random little things that happened during our day. Whilst we were talking, I couldn’t help but notice the hidden, small, cute features painted on his face that I had blindsighted for all my days of knowing him. The way his lip curved to the side when he was talking about something he found funny, in hopes it would make me laugh, or perhaps the way his eyes wandered around the room, his mouth open slightly like a puppy, as he tried to remember what he was going to say. My new found adoration for him grew increasingly fast whilst the conversation progressed; I was finding out more and more about him than I was ever able to in our boring science lessons together.

“And Damon, him being the idiot he is, decided to pull his pants down, as if that’s a way you’re supposed to pick up a girl,” he laughed, which caused my eyes to widen, laughing with him in shock.

“Goodness, would I ever be able to meet this mysterious Damon Albarn?” I joked, dipping the last few fries I had in ketchup, devouring them.

“Of course, he’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” he answered, a casual smirk illustrated on his features.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I laughed, confused as to what he was implying. We both binned our food, said our thank-yous to the worker at the counter and walked out to the chilly streets before he continued.

“Perhaps I want you to come hang out with me and Damon at lunch on Monday,” he started, a big grin spread on his face as he fixed his gaze at me. “I like spending time with you, shame we haven’t done this before,”

I stared back at him, a huge, goofy beam spread out on my face. Gathering enough courage, I linked arms with him, staring out at the familiar street we both spent our afternoons strolling home. I felt his eyes on me, to which I tried to ignore, but his angelic brown eyes would never fail to make me fall for him more than I already had.

For the remainder of our walk, there was a soft, casual silence. Not like the one we shared in the science room, but a comforting one. We were both engrossed in our surroundings, sharing a peaceful moment with each other, until it was my time to depart from our travels. The scenery was filled with newly bloomed flowers, trees regaining their green, shiny leaves and grass as green as ever. It was mid-March, meaning that spring was starting. I’ve always found walking on the breezy streets in the spring season the most relaxing, all new life blossoming around you, along with the pretty, delicate colours of flowers like roses and daffodils decorating the landscape. The start to new beginnings, the genesis.

“This is me,” I said, stopping in my tracks by the drive of my house. Graham’s facial expression changed to a disappointed one, clearly sad that our time together - outside of school - had come to a close. “I’ve really enjoyed my time with you,”

“There’s just one thing,” he said, his stare enveloped in my eyes.

I noticed Graham had slowly taken a few steps forward, bringing our bodies closer together. My heart rate picked up again, curious as to what he was going to do next. His stare was now fixated on my lips, as I watched him begin to lean in. I froze, a thousand thoughts running through my mind. Suddenly, I felt his lips graze mine, holding it in place for a few seconds, savouring the kiss.

Pulling away, he smiled at me and bit his top lip. I grinned back at him, my mind still stunned from the events that had happened merely seconds ago.

“See you Monday,” he shouted, waving at me cutely.

“See you!” I shouted, marching up to my door and unlocking it with my keys. As I stumbled through, I squealed. Apparently he likes me too.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #imagine #90s #graham coxon x reader #fluff #smut

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fatrainbowmermaidunicorn · 4 years ago

Text

The Other Girl (Jungkook X You) (ONESHOT)

A/N: Its a bit short but I hope you will like it <3

MASTERLIST

A/N : And also, I’m trying a new thing here and you are in no way obligated to do it but if any of you like my stories and want to give some support, why not buy me a coffee? ☕💜

Jungkook and Rissa.

They are the ultimate couple that everyone want to be. That everyone envy. They are the definition of perfect, romantic, lovable. Everything you want to be as a couple. And everyone always thinks, no, know, that they will end up together forever. There is no way one of them would love someone else, theres no way one of them would leave the other for anyone else.

Y/N smiles and looks into Jungkook's eyes who staring back at her. And she is sure as hell that no one could have ever thought she would be the one who would steal's Jungkook's heart from Rissa.

Thats right, shes the other girl.

Jungkook has always been her dream guy. She has had her eyes on his the moment he step on stage on his debut day. But Y/N is just a trainee, and as Jungkook and his group grew more popular, she knows her chances with him are slim to none. Y/N's heart broke to pieces when she found out that Jungkook also has a long time childhood girlfriend whom he loves so much. Everybody favorite's couple.

Rissa.

It doesnt help that Rissa is the definition of a perfect girl. Beautiful, soft spoken, intelligent, funny, kindhearted. Everything a girl wants to be. And every guy wants to be with. Everybody tells Jungkook thats hes lucky to be with her. That he should hold on to her forever.

They are the perfect couple in everyones eyes.

But all that never once stop Y/N from continuing to crush on him, falling in love with him. Once she debuted herself, Y/N slowly make her way to be friends with Jungkook's hyungs, his friends and slowly, very slowly, make his way into Jungkook's heart.

And now, here she is. In Jungkook's embrace, lips locked with each othet like theres no tomorrow. They have been seeing each other in secret for almost six months now, and it was the most wonderful time for Y/N. The best moments of her life.

"I love you Kookie," she giggles and hugs his neck.

"And you know I love you too baby," he smile and leans in to kiss her. A long, deep, passionate kiss. "I have to go," he pouts. "But I promise I will call you before you go to bed?"

Y/N pouts playfully.

"Do you really have to go home to her, Kookie?"

"You know I dont want to baby, but you know I have to. For now. Okay?" Jungkook smile and stroke her hair. "I love you Y/N,"

"I love you too, so much Kookie. We are going to be together for real, soon right? You promise right? That you will choose me?"

"You know I do baby. Just give me some time yeah?" Jungkook smile and kiss her one last time before leaving.

Y/N pouts alone. Thats the promise Jungkook keeps on giving her ever since they got together. That he will leave Rissa. That they will be an official couple. That he never loves Rissa. That he loves her so much more.

All those promises, they are nice to hear, but deep down, Y/N knows that Rissa will always be Jeon Jungkook's first love and he will always, always love her.

/////

"Hey bunny, you are back. Hows practice?" Rissa smiles and gives him a quick kiss.

"It was okay. Just the usual. Hyungs bickering, Jin hyung fell and all thay," he laughs. "How about you? How was your day princess?" Jungkook smile and kiss her back.

"Same old, same old. Nothing interesting like yours, Im sure," she giggles. "I cooked your favorite for dinner today bunny. Why dont you shower, since you are all sweaty and smelly, and we can have dinner together?"

"Yah, you like it when I'm sweaty," Jungkook grins and winks, making her blush. "But yeah, I'll take a quick shower and I'll be down in a bit okay princess?" Jungkook smile, gives her another kiss and head to the bathroom.

As her usual routine, Rissa went over to where Jungkook throws his clothes and collect his dirty laundry for washing. And just like every single day since the last few months, theres the same perfume smell lingering all over his clothes. A women's perfume. The same one. And of course, stain of lipstick in random places on his clothes. She doesnt want to believe it. Its so unreal that Jungkook would do that to her. But it has been months. Theres no denying it anymore.

Rissa sighs.

Jungkook is still cheating. And she dont know how long her heart can pretend otherwise

/////

"How is the food bunny?" Rissa smile, looking at the man sitting from across of him.

"Delicious as always princess," he smiles and to show he meant it, shoved a large amount of food inside his mouth, making his cheeks blows up like a chipmunk. Rissa giggles. Shes going to miss this mam so so much.

"Im glad you love it bunny. You deserve the best after a tiring day at work,"

"I dont know what I do to deserve you princess. Im the luckiest guy in the world," Jungkook smile and hold her hand from across the table. Rissa stop chewing. Something in what Jungkoom said hit a cord, and it just hurts. So much.

"Jungkook?" Rissa looks up at him.

"Yes?" Jungkook frowns. Its unusual for her to call him by his real name. "Is everything okay?" Jungkook is confused. They were happy just a second ago. What could have happened?

"You know I love you very much right?" Rissa asked, eyes softly looking into his.

"Of course I do know princess. Whats wrong? Anything bothering you? Want to tell me?" Jungkook stops eating and frowns heavily.

"And you. You love me right Jungkook? Just as much as I love you?"

"Rissa, princess. You already know the answer. Of course I love you. You are my life. Now, can you tell me whats going on?"

"Nothing really," she smile and looks down at her plate, slowly playing with her food. "I just want you to know, that it has always been you for me Jungkook. No one else. And Ive never wanted or look at anyone else either. You are my dream come true, and I'm sorry..." she sniffles.

"Sorry? What for? Hey, why are you crying princess?" Jungkook stands up and walks to her side, squating down to her level, startled by her sudden tears.

"Im sorry if I bore you. If my love for you isnt enough. If I am not what you wanted. What you still wanted. Ive tried my best to love you. Im just sorry Im just simply not... enough," she sniffles harder, looking down at her lap.

"Hey, what are you even talking about? Not enough? Where did all this even came from?" Jungkook smile and lifted her chin to look at him. "I love you. Only you. Forever and always right? You are ny everything. You are everything I wanted and everything I could ever dream of. Theres nothing to worry about. I promise. Okay?"

Rissa nodded weakly, knowing everything he said is nothing but empty promises.

They make love that night. Love so passionate, that one could never thought that theres a third person between their love. But there is. And even after a passionate night together, Rissa will never forget the fact.

/////

It has been a few months since that night. And the same thing still happens every single day. Late night texts, whispered calls when Jungkook thought she was sleeping, perfumes and lipstick stain on his clothes... its even worse now because Rissa now knows whos Jungkook is actually cheating with.

Enough is enough. Enough time and chances has been given. Its time. Its time to finally do something about it.

/////

She looks at her. Her beautiful face, with a tired smile plastered on, but still beautiful nevertheless. Y/N can tell right now why Jungkook loves her. She never gets mad, she never raises her voice at him, whenever hes tired, mad or upset, whenever he yells at her for no reason at all, she will say she understand. Her love for Jungkook is unconditional, and Y/N is the reason why Jungkook is hurting her.

"Rissa," was all she could choked out as she looks into her eyes.

"Hello Y/N," she smiles. "Its nice to finally meet you in person. Come, have a seat,"

Y/N feels her throat dries up nervously. Not really sure know what Rissa meant by that. What she being sarcastic? Sincere? What is it? Why did she ask to meet her? Does Jungkook knows about this?

"I- uh yeah, its nice to finally meet you in person too. I-I have heard so much about you," Y/N smiles nervously.

"I'm sure," she laughs. A beautiful sound. How can she still smile brightly at her? Knowing that she has been with her man for so long? Y/N is sure Rissa knows.

"I-uh.."

"Im kidding!" She laughs. "Dont worry Y/N, you dont have to be nervous. I dont bite," she laughs again. "Lets just talk is girls. Yeah? I think we have so mich to talk about, dont you?"

Y/N nods again, nervously.

"Listen Rissa. Jungkook and I..." Y/N stops her words, not knowing herself what she should be saying. Apologize? Beg her to give Jungkook to her? Ask her to share? Explain to Rissa her feelings towards Jungkook? She has no idea. No idea at all what to do or say.

But lucky for her, she doesnt have to think further as Rissa cut her off.

"Im leaving Jungkook,"

Y/N looks at her, mouth slightly gapped open. Out of all the 1001 scenarios in her head, she never expected this to come out from Rissa's mouth. Y/N had imagined Rissa would yell, scream, hit her, slap her, laugh at her, throw a tantrum, everything anf any possible reaction, but not this. Never this.

"What? Rissa you-"

"Im leaving him, and thats my decision," she smile and take a sip of her tea. "Dont get me wrong Y/N. Iys not that I hate him, or stop loving him. I love him. I love Jungkook so much. More than anyone can ever imagined," she smiles softly. "We have been together since we were teenagers. We grew up together, and I always thought me and him are destined to be together till the end of times,"

Y/N clear her throat awkwardly. She wish the earth would just swallow her right now. The pain and hurt in Rissa's voice pierced right through her heart. She has caused another woman pain. When did she become this? What has she done?

"But I cant make something that doesnt work anymore, work... I tried. Oh god, believe me, I tried," she smile again, but a sad one. "You know... I have known about you two for the longest time,"

"Y-you did?"

Rissa laughs, a beautiful one.

"Of course silly. I think everyone knows," she smile again. "You two are always together. And when you two are together, you guys dont really keep it subtle. And it doesnt help how nervous his hyungs were went I asked them where Jungkook went when I surprise him at practice," she giggles but Y/N knows Rissa's heart is breaking. Memories with Jungkook flashes through her mind. The kisses, quickies, secret dates between shows, practices, asking his hyung to lie for them eventhough they know they didnt approve. All those days that they thought were subtle enough and kept a secret.... every little thing they did, her happiness, all at the expense of this beautiful girl's broken heart. What has she done?

"But I thought, maybe Jungkook just need a distraction. We have been together for so long, and in his line of work, he meets pretty girls like you every single day. Hes a man afterall. So I thought, maybe after he gets it out of his system, he will come back to me. That our love was still intact,"

"Y-you knew... and you are willing to let him cheat?"

"I love him Y/N. Ive never love anyone. Hes my everything, my first and I thought, if being with someone else makes him happy, makes him come back to me eventually, Im willing to," she sighs. "But I was wrong. I dont think his love for me is the same as before,"

"Thats not true Rissa! Jungkook loves you! I know he does!" Y/N raises her voice. She dont know why shes trying to protect Jungkook's and Rissa's love when Jungkook has been everything she wanted. With Rissa gone, she shpild be happy. Jungkook is all hers. But something doesnt seems right. Their love is too beautiful to destroy.

Rissa smile softly and stroke Y/N's hand across the table.

"I know you want to believe that Y/N. Maybe so that you wont feel so bad. But truly, its okay. Havent you heard the saying, if you love two people at the same time, choose the second one. Because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn't have fallen for the second one? You are the second one Y/N,"

"B-but Rissa. Jungkook-"

"Stop," she raised her hand and shakes her head. "Stop trying to change my mind because I wont. Y/N, I think I owe it to myself to leave. I have done everything to love Jungkook and I dont think its fair for me to share his love when I have given my everything to him," tears finally falls down her soft cheeks. "I finally found the courage to leave, to let go of this fairytale that I wanted so much to come true and finally give myself something I deserve. Someone I deserve. I believe that I deserve someone who will love me for all that I am, and who will give everything he has for me, just like I will do for him. And thats no longer Jungkook," Rissa slowly wiped down her tears and takes a deep breathe.

"So, do me a favour yeah? Love him, take care of him and show him the same kind of love that I have been giving him all these years," she flashed a small smile as she took of the ring from her finger and placed it on Y/N's open palm. "This... Jungkook gave me this when we first met. Its a promise ring he said. We fell in love at first sight," she laughs. "Stupid, I know. But we were young and he promised me, that one day, when hes finally made it when he found everything hes chasing all this while, he will marry me, he will propose with a proper ring," she laughs. "Jungkook is always so dramatic, dont you think?"

Y/N looks at the ring and without realizing, tears has streamed down her face too. Jungkook truly loves her. And Rissa, shes willing to let go so that hes happy. Thats how strong their love are. And here she is, a monster! A home wrecker! What has she done? What has she done?!

"Hes all yours now Y/N. And thankyou for making me realize my worth," she smile one last time and stands up. Without looking back, Rissa walks out, leaving her painful love story for a better future without Jeon Jungkook in it.

/////

"Jungkook?" Y/N walked into their messy apartment after walking aimlessly for a few hours, thinking about her earlier meeting with Rissa. Furnitures are upside down everywhere, vases are broken, books are strewn across the floors. Y/N quickly try to look for Jungkook, hoping hes alright, not sure whats happening.

"Kookie??" She ran to their bedroom and found Jungkook in the dark, at the far corner hugging his knees. Y/N immediately went over and sits besides him, hugging his shoulder. "Kookie? Are you okay? What happened? Did we get rob? What happened? Tell me? Are yoi okay?"

"S-she left. She left me. She left...."

Y/N feels her heart beats faster. Okay, Jungkook has found out then. Rissa must have moved out from their apartment.

"Kookie, baby....I-I know,"

Jungkook looks up with his tear strained face.

"Y-you knew?"

"I-" Y/N paused for a moment. Not knowing if she should proceed. "R-Rissa... she asked to meet me earlier today..."

"She what?" Jungkook immediately perked up and turns to look at Y/N. A part of her feels hurt that Jungkook cares so much about Rissa, that he showed it, especially in front of her. Didnt he say that he loves her? That he wants a future with her? That he will leave Rissa for her? Then what is all this? Shouldnt he be happy instead? Y/N shakes the thoughts away. This is not the time to think about herself. Right?

"She asked to meet me Kookie... and I didnt know what its for until we met," Y/N looks into his eyes whos looking at her, confused. "Rissa... she uh.. she gave me this," she slowly and reluctantly gave Jungkook the ring. Jungkook just stare at it, as if its some poisonous snake that he shouldnt touch.

"Kookie?" Y/N whispered slowly. "Y-you okay?"

He jolted from her the sound of her voice, like someone shocked him and grab the ring, surprising Y/N, and threw the tiny ring across the room.

"She thinks she can just leave me like that?! No fucking way! We promised forever! She promised she will be with me until forever!" Jungkook suddenly screamed. Y/N was taken aback, both by his sudden outburst and whats hes saying. Doesnt Jungkook remember who is with him right now? Doesnt he remember that he promised her forever? That hes supposed to love her, to be with her?

"Kookie p-please calm down," Y/N pulled him tight into her embrace, trying to calm him, immediately making Jungkook burst into tears. "Im sorry Kookie. Im sorry, Im really, really sorry,"

Im really sorry I fell in love with you.

/////

Y/N knows. Oh she knows Jungkook is only staying in the relationship with her, being with her all because of guilt. Just to prove that he made the right decision, that he didnt regret what he did, that he didnt regret he cheated, that hes happy with her. Because, if he didnt... if hes not happy... then he just threw away Rissa, his love, the greatest thing that could have happened in his life, for... her.

The other girl.

Y/N knows, everytime Jungkook thinks she wasnt looking, she saw him staring blanklessly out the window. And Y/N knows hes thinking about her. Her smile, her laugh, if shes thinking of him too. But Y/N also know, that she isnt. Y/N knows that Rissa have moved on. That she would probably have found another man that would love her woth all his heart, make her happpy. The kind of man she deserves. A man that would appreciate her. Why would she think about a man so stupid, a mam who broke her heart like its nothing, so idiotic, a man who would threw out a girl like herself, for a girl like her...

The other girl.

After Jungkook calmed down that day, he asked Y/N to tell hin everything that Rissa told her. Because Rissa left without saying goodbye, without saying anything. Jungkook came back from practice to find all Rissa's things gone. Her stuffed animals, their photos together, her shoes, her books in the side table. Everything. All traces of her... gone.

And thats when Y/N knew how much Rissa was hurting from what she did. Maybe she didnt show it, she didnt say it, but it shows. Y/N also finally knew how much Rissa loves Jungkook. Because she cant even bare to see him one last time. She cant even say goodbye to him. Because she knows she will give in. She will give him another chance and he will break her all over again.

And Y/N finally knew how she has ruined a love so great.

And as years goes by, yes, Y/N and Jungkook are together, exchanging little smile here and there, a dull how are you at the end of the day instead of laughter and love. But Y/N knows, from the dying glint in his eyes whenever he looks at her that whatever they have is not love, never love. She stole away his love story, his one true love, hoping that she can be a greater one, a better one. But she was wrong. Dead wrong.

But is she the only one to blame? Jungkook fell in love too, didnt he? He betrayed their love too? Didnt he? Both hers and Rissa. So she guess they are both to blame. The dark storm in a beautifil love by a beautiful girl.

And for hurting her.

For making her cry.

For breaking her heart.

For making her loose the love of her life...

This is what Y/N deserve. To forever be with the man she loves, the man she long for everyday, the man she wants to love her back as much as she loves him, but he never will.... the man who will forever see her as.. the other girl.

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