#and then: 'hey {SWAT}. do you know his name?' 'uh no IDK' 'which door is he coming out of?' 'maybe that one?'

[todrokishoto]

bnha boys x tickles

character(s): bakugou, deku, denki, kirishima, todoroki

warning(s): tickles, blood (nosebleed), swearing? 

a/n: random idea i had. enjoy this hc/scenario thing while i work on some longer fics. p.s. i’ve never really written headcannons before so idk if i did it right lmao

B A K U G O U 

mans isn’t ticklish 

trained himself to tolerate it bc being ticklish is for the weak 

won’t tell you that tho bc it’s a valid excuse sometimes ok??

like,,, let’s say you’re tracing mindless patterns on his abdomen right

the two of you are just lying on his bed in his dorm room

and while it might have been innocent enough on your part

he can’t help but be... flustered as your hand moves awfully close to the waistband of his pants 

feeling his cheeks heat up, straight up refusing to let you see how much your touch affects him, he swats your hand away with a grunt

“that tickles, dumbass,” he huffs, his voice slightly strained. you pretend not to notice. 

your eyebrows lift upward in surprise at his statement. not once had he ever mentioned he was ticklish. propping yourself up on your elbow, you let your eyes trail over his features, studying him. 

his eyes are closed but only after mere seconds of feeling your gaze, they open back up. his crimson orbs stare into yours, neither one of you breaking the prolonged silence. you, frankly, didn’t want to. bakugou, on the other hand, refused to - fully aware his voice would betray him again. 

he couldn’t believe he had just lied about being ticklish. but, letting you believe your soft touches had tickled him rather than admitting they made him feel things he know he shouldn’t seemed like the most logical option. yes. there was no way he’d reveal his less than innocent thoughts. 

“what?” he grumbles, quirking a brow questioningly. “take a picture. it’ll last longer.” 

you fish your phone out of your pocket, holding it up above him. “okay—” 

your words turn into a squeal as he smacks the phone out of your hand and grabs your arm, pinning it above your head. he hovers above you, eyes full of mischievousness, his teeth exposed by the grin dancing on his lips. you stare back up at him, eyes wide, body tense as you attempt to gauge his next movements.

“how ‘bout a taste of your own medicine, huh? since you seem to find it so funny.” 

and before you can protest, his fingertips dig into your sides, eliciting careless giggles from you as he tries his best to find your most ticklish spots. 

K A M I N A R I 

would tickle you on the daily just to hear your laugh

pls he’s a total sucker for your squealing giggles. they’re his favorite

this boy will find any excuse to tickle you; pinching your sides, blowing raspberries on your stomach while lying in your lap - you name it 

one of his favorite ways is to use just a teeny tiny bit of his electricity, making the ticklish that much more unbearable 

we all know his love language is physical touch, so he just can’t help himself really

but don’t even think about tickling him. boy will practically screm bloody murder and literally run away from you like a child running away from their parent when it’s time for bed 

you’re bored. so bored, in fact, that you’re even thinking about purposefully provoking your boyfriend’s explosive friend just for some entertainment. you quickly scrap the idea, not feeling like being the target of his harsh words today. 

your boredom quickly dissipates, however, as the yellow locks of your boyfriend come into view. he’s chatting animatedly with kirishima and sero, his back facing you. you put a finger to your lips as a pair of red eyes look at you curiously. luckily, the redhead understands and says nothing as you sneak up to the table they’re currently seated at. 

“hey, babe!” you greet loudly, your voice dripping with fake innocence. 

before he can turn around, your hands are at his sides, pinching and poking with all their might. an odd sound - something between a gasp and a grunt - escapes your boyfriend at the feeling and he flails his arms, desperately trying to escape your hold. 

you underestimated just how ticklish your electric partner is, it seems. because before you can dodge it and sero can warn you, denki pushes his chair backward, knocking you over in the process. your boyfriend whips around immediately at the sound of your body colliding with the floor. 

“oh my god, baby, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean—” his apology trails off at the sound of your loud laughter. 

you’re clutching your stomach with one hand, attempting (but to no avail) to silence your laughter with the other. denki rubs the back of his neck, eyes full of confusion, while he tries to regain his breath from your surprise attack. once again, he catches you off-guard as he crouches down next to you, his fingers finding your tickle spot with ease. 

your laughter gets louder and he smirks. “not so funny now, is it?” 

K I R I S H I M A

mans has a hardening quirk

aka he can just harden his skin, so tickling him is basically impossible 

once in awhile, when he knows you just want revenge for the times you’ve been tickled by him, he won’t activate his power 

but still, he barely chuckles, which makes you frustrated™

he doesn’t really tickle you on purpose that often tho bc that’s not manly

will tickle you accidentally while rubbing your arms or breathing on your neck while cuddling 

you’ll squirm in his hold and he will just apologize with a laugh and hold you tighter

you sigh, shuffling ever-so-slightly, stuck within your boyfriend’s tight grasp. the two of you had been cuddling on one of the sofas in the common room, but he had succumbed to his exhaustion and had fallen asleep next to you.

normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. you had no issue being his pillow once in awhile and his cute, little snores made it impossible for you to wake him. today, however, he had fallen asleep in the crook of your neck and his soft breaths were tickling you. with every exhale, your body tensed as you tried your best to remain still.

“kiri,” you whisper, his nickname slipping past your lips with gentleness. “babe, wake up.” 

he stirs at the sound of your voice, his breathing halting momentarily. you wait in suspense but he only buries his face further into your neck, a long breath fanning against your exposed skin. you squirm instinctively. your movements must have alerted something in him because he begins shuffling shortly after. 

you can’t see his face but you can tell by his breathing that he’s slowly but surely waking up. you practically hold your breath, praying that he will move before you have to voice your discomfort. unfortunately, luck isn’t on your side it seems. 

“kiri, i love you, but please move,” you plead, pushing against his chest softly. his red eyes are filled with confusion as he props himself up to look at you. “you’ve been tickling my neck for the past fifteen minutes. i was going insane.” 

he pouts then. “aw, babe, you should’ve told me. you could’ve woken me up, y’know?” 

“yeah, i know,” you sigh, rubbing your neck where his breathing had been just a few seconds prior. “i just didn’t want to wake you, is all. you’re so cute when you sleep.” 

“you’re cuter,” he quips enthusiastically, poking your nose with his index finger. “okay, your turn to cuddle me instead. i’m not ticklish so lay wherever you want.” 

M I D O R I Y A

i feel like this broccoli bean would be ticklish everywhere?

either that or he’s not ticklish at all

maybe his body’s been beaten so many times that his nerve-endings are either overly sensitive or they barely feel anything 

idk™ BUT

sweet, freckled little izuku would also not tickle you without consent

we stan a respective king 

he would be so careful to apply a little bit of a firmer pressure to not tickle you

sweetie had been to flustered to ask if you were ticklish when you first started dating and it was too late to ask now 

you’re sitting next to him on the gras outside of the doors, relishing the feeling of the nice evening air against your skin. the two of you are chatting mindlessly. well, izuku’s doing most of the talking and you’re mainly listening, but you don’t mind at all. 

his arm is grasped between your two hands as you gently trace the scattered freckles and scars adorning his skin. he had been so flustered when you had grabbed it, unable to will the redness away from his cheeks. you had only giggled in response. 

izuku didn’t know why you seemed to be so fascinated by his scars. you had always asked questions about them, wondering if he remembered where he got them. always made sure to call him handsome on days where he was particularly bothered by the markings on his body. 

he loved it. he loved you. 

but as your continue to trace them, your touch featherlight, he can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine. he squirms, his hand clenching together and forming a fist. you take notice and halt your actions immediately. he turns to look at you, meeting your wide eyes. 

“did i do something wrong?” you ask quietly, feeling the guilt claw its way to your chest. 

“no!” he practically shouts, his voice a few octaves higher than normal. he clears his throat. “n-no, you didn’t. it’s just that... heh. i’m, uh, kind of sensitive in certain spots, i guess? and while i really don’t mind you touching my scars, you were so gentle and i-i just... it tickled.”

his chin tilts toward the floor, his bashful gaze flickering away from yours. you notice the pink dusting across his freckled cheeks but decide not to point it out, desperate to make your boyfriend feel at ease again. 

“zuku, say that next time! i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to tickle you. i didn’t even know you were ticklish, to be honest.”

he rubs his neck, peering over at you once again. he grins sheepishly. “i-i never told you, i guess. usually, i’m able to resist the urge to squirm, um, like that.”

“you’re so cute!” you gush, grabbing ahold of his hand once again. “i’m ticklish too, y’know. but i’ll let you find my tickle spots on your own.”

and, for the umpteenth time that night, your boyfriend blushes as he thinks about exploring your body to find your very own tickle spots. 

T O D O R O K I 

we all know he had a shitty childhood fck u endeavor

he never had tickle fights with his parents or siblings when he was little

so poor bby probably doesn’t even know he’s ticklish until you accidentally find his weak spot one day

let’s say you’re both cuddling in your bed right?? and things are getting a little heated 

so,,, you detach your lips from his, placing a kiss on his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck

and let me tell you - this poor boy doesn’t know what to do 

he tenses up immediately, slamming his chin down to protect his exposed neck, his jaw banging against your nose in the process 

“y/n!” he calls out immediately, chest heaving, his body still tense as if on high alert. he reaches out to you when he spots you holding your nose, your brows furrowed in discomfort. “i’m so sorry. i don’t— are you alright?” 

you nod, releasing a hum to confirm your response. your nose is throbbing, but when you open your eyes and meet shoto’s wide bicolored ones, your pain subsides quickly. poor boy looks so helpless - torn between reaching out for you and distancing himself. 

“hey, sho, it’s okay. i’m alright,” you remove your hand clutching your nose to shoot him a smile but you stop midway, noticing the crimson liquid on your palm. 

“you’re bleeding,” your boyfriend observes quietly, the guilt obvious in his voice. “i hurt you. i’m so sorry. i... what you did made me feel weird and my body just reacted. i, uh, i’m sorry.” 

he scrambles out of your bed, reaching for the box of tissues he knows you have stashed in your desk. he hands you a handful of them, awkwardly lingering by the foot of the bed as you wrap the paper over your nose, clamping your fingers shut around it.

you shake your head with a gentle laugh. “sho, it’s okay. i didn’t know you were ticklish there. i can’t really control what my body does when i’m tickled either, so i don’t blame you.” 

“ticklish?” he repeats aloud, almost as if testing out the word. 

you nod, the innocence of your boyfriend once again surprising you. you feel your heart ache slightly at the thought of him not knowing what the action is. had nobody ever touched him enough for him to find his tickle spots? 

“yeah. most people are ticklish somewhere on their body. usually either on their waist, their armpits, feet or neck - like you. it’s normal. typically, when people are touched where they’re ticklish, they’ll squirm and laugh.” 

he nods and you remain quiet as he processes the information. then, much to your bewilderment, he leans forward and grabs ahold of your side with his fingertips. he pinches gently and you jerk, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend smiling harmlessly. 

“so, is that your tickle spot, then?”  

[rebeccccccaaa]

🅑🅐🅓 🅑🅞🅨

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🅢🅣🅔🅥🅔 🅡🅞🅖🅔🅡🅢 🅧 🅡🅔🅐🅓🅔🅡

🅡🅔🅠🅤🅔🅢🅣: Aa, idk if your requests are open, but I *love* you sex pollen fics! I was wondering if you'd be able to write one with a dom reader? I don't mind what character, but they get affected by the pollen and are really subby ect? ❤️✨

🅦🅐🅡🅝🅘🅝🅖🅢: brief graphic violence, Smut 18+ (slight bondage, degradation, begging, dom!reader, edging, male masterbation, overstimulation, mommy kink, dom/sub), kinda fluffy aftercare for steve 

🅐🅤🅣🅗🅞🅡’🅢 🅝🅞🅣🅔: girl i am not dominant! omlll i hope this was ok, i really tried to step out of my comfort zone a bit with this one but i don’t know if it’s dommy enough :( but i hope it’s what you were hoping for :) it’s long but i think it’s worth the read teehee

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“Steve are you alright?” you asked him as he emerged from the greenhouse. He was thrown through the glass roof by high tech Hydra weapons. There was yellow dust clouding his nose and eyes and it looked uncomfortable.

“Yeah, let’s finish this mission and get back!” he started running with you.

Hydra agents flooding in the room stalling you and Steve from getting back to the quinjet. As you were fighting you looked over to Steve to make sure he was still doing alright, you noticed how much more aggressive he was fighting. He smashed their heads in and broke their bones; it was much more violent than how Steve normally fought. 

That was something you expected from Nat or Bucky, their lives were violent before the Avengers but Steve was all about stealth and less casualties so seeing him so brutal and cruel was somewhat frightening. 

“Steve. Steve!” you pulled him from his rampage.

“What!”

“What’s going on?” you yelled.

“Nothing! Let’s just get back to the quinjet,” he huffed and left.

The ride back home was quiet except for the heavy breathing and grunting that came from Steve practically every minute. You wanted to yell at him for being an annoying little shit but you knew he would rip you apart if you yelled at him again.

Suddenly you received a phone coming in from Tony Stark.

“Hey Tony. We’re on our way back already,” you said.

“Good. We uh, we noticed the Hydra Greenhouse was destroyed, did either you guys go in there or fight anyone in there?” he asked; one the Shield agents reported it to the Avengers Tower.

“Oh yeah Steve was thrown in there through the roof but he's fine now, I think. He’s being extra mean to me though,” you sassed, making Steve roll his eyes as he was eavesdropping.

“Mean? How?” Tony asked.

“Well, he’s being really aggressive. Dude got so angry all of the sudden,” you responded.

“Ok, we’ll talk again you guys get back,” he said and hung up.

When you guys landed Steve had a stern expression and walked uncomfortably to the lab where Tony and the rest of the team were waiting. You and Steve had been sent on the mission alone and it seems like something happened that everyone but you two were aware of.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Tony and Bruce walked up to Steve and inspected his face. He still had bits of golden pollen stuck to his eyelashes and the tip of his nose. Steve swatted Tony’s hand away and practically growled in anger. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscle bulged from his head.

“He got hit,” Thor said.

“Got hit with what?” Steve saidly rudely. 

“The pollen. Hydra confided a greenhouse in Moscow, where you guys were, to experiment on a specific species of flowers found in other galaxies for… breeding. It makes the victim completely lust driven until they well, breed,” Bruce explained. 

“What?” you started laughing.

“Is he gonna be impossibly horny now?” you smirked, making Steve roll his eyes.

“The effects can be detrimental to humans when untreated but since Steve has the super soldier serum I’m not sure what could happen,” Thor spoke up.

“How are you feeling Steve?” Nat asked, walking up to him.

“I’m fine,” Steve said.

“Maybe we should take some tests?” Bruce asked. 

“No, no, no! Guys I’m fine,” Steve bargain.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked him.

“Yeah, if I start feeling weird, I’ll come back to the lab, deal?” he said; everyone was skeptical about him considering you reported that Steve became suddenly more aggressive than ever before. It might’ve had something to do with the effects of the pollen.

“Maybe you should just stay. Tony and Bruce can monitor you and you won’t-”

“Nat, I’ll be fine,” Steve interrupted. 

“Ok.”

Steve wasn’t fine.

It’s been a few hours since you and Steve got back from the mission and Steve was in excruciating pain. He felt so embarrassed he could even walk to the door without desperately wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. 

He had a boner and there was no way in a million years Steve was gonna let anyone catch him like that. Steve spent almost two hours in the shower alone fisting his cock desperate to cum and make it go away but nothing was working.

He even thought about you and you were getting him close but to have you in person would’ve been the cherry on top. Since the stupid enter his system images and thoughts of you and you alone were the only thing he could think about. But there was no way you’d ever have sex with him, even if his life depended on it. 

Steve wasn’t really particularly nice to you. And today especially the pollen making him horny as fuck for you made easily aggitated because he could’t get a release. And the serum amplified everything, so he got instantly hit with the effects but played it off thinking it wasn’t going to feel this awful by now. 

But again, that didn’t stop him from thinking about your body and how beautiful you were to him; even way before today. Steve always thought relationships should stay out of a workplace especially one so demanding like yours. He knew it was stupid because Wanda and Vision were doing alright, and so was Tony and Pepper. 

He told himself that only because his relationship with Sharon was quite awful. But he wanted to try again and try a relationship with you. He wanted to make you laugh, wake up next to you and make breakfast with you together. Maybe even dominate him? Steve had always wanted to try that but Sharon was very vanilla; and you were quite the controlling person, it was sexy as hell he thought.

A knock on the door pulled him out his thoughts of you. He pulled his sweatpants up and opened the door just a crack to avoid practically flashing his guest with his very prominent boner. 

“Hey just checking in. it’s been a while since you left the lab, and no one’s seen you come out of your room,” it was you. Steve almost moaned at the sight of you but kept somewhat composure processing what you were saying. 

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he stuttered. 

“You’re alright?” you said condescendingly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he pushed out.

“You’re fine,” you whispered, crossing your arms.

“You know the walls are thin,” you smirked.

The small smile on his face dropped because he was sure that you heard his little escapades in the shower. 

“So here’s my offer, since it was my name you were so desperately moaning I can either fix your little, well, big problem or I can walk away and tell Tony and everyone else that not only are you experiencing the symptoms of the sex pollen plant that you supposed notify Tony and Bruce in the first place but that you’re also so desperate to fuck me as much as you pretend to deny it,” you spoke smoothly. 

Steve breathed out heavily before opening the door defeated letting you in. You smirked excitedly walking into Steve’s room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t completely head over heels for the guy. And that beard you convinced him to grow wasn’t helping your attraction either.

“Strip,” you commanded.

“Pardon?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Steve, oh baby, tsk, tsk, tsk,” you shook your head, walking up to 

“What?”

“You're going to do everything that I ask you to do and the minute you disobey me, I walk out and let you suffer,” you whispered to him, “Got it?”

He nodded. Probably more eager than he meant it to be, which made you giggle.

“So as I said before, strip,” you repeated.

Steve took his shirt off followed by his sweats leaving him in his boxers in front of you.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” you said sternly.

Steve took his boxers off leaving him completely in the nude; his cock stood tall against his stomach and you were impressed. The sight of him made you grow wet but you are so going to have your fun with him before you even think about taking even your shirt off.

“Get on your knees,” you told him.

Steve didn’t hesitate to kneel in front of you; his dick getting harder with each passing second. The pollen started to affect his mind more now that you were in his proximity. His mind was getting cloudy and all he could start to think about was your delicious scent that made him want to simply ravish you unconditionally. 

“How are you feeling?” you mocked him.

“Please,” he whimpered. 

“Please what?” 

“Please touch me,” he begged. 

“Aw, you want me to touch you? Like a little slut? Huh?”

Your words made him whimper and moan.

“Well, someone was being a bad boy today. First you yelled at me when I was trying to help, then you lied to Tony who was also trying to help, and then I find out about your pathetic little crush on me. I don’t think you get what you want just yet, baby.”

You grabbed his chin and sat him on the bed you kneel in front of him, his dick in front of your face aching to be touched. Steve resisted the urge to move his hips towards as you resisted the urge to touch him and pleasure him. But like before, you wanted to have a bit of fun.

“Hm, I want you to keep begging me,” you stood up abruptly, making Steve whimper.

“Please, Y/n, I need you to touch, please it hurts.”

You squinted to eyes unimpressed.

“Mommy, please,” Steve’s hands reached out to you and pulled close. You almost got upset for him touching you without your permission but when he lifted your shirt and pressed delicate little kisses in your tummy you almost caved.

“Mommy; I like it,” you pushed his shoulders down so he laid on the bed. 

You walked back a bit putting distance in between you and took off your shirt leaving a bra on; one you had specifically put on because it made you feel the sexiest. Steve’s eyes widen slightly before drooping completely admiring the skin you put on display for him; even if it's just your shoulders and stomach for now.

“Touch yourself,” you commanded.

Steve reached down and quickly stroked his cock; his hands moving up and down rapidly chasing his release. You moved your hand to your breast and squeezed one just to tease Steve some more; biting your lip seductively.

Steve’s moans got louder and with you standing right there teasing him and mocking him, he was finally, after hours of trying to climax, he was finally reaching the edge. You watched him closely and when his hand began to stutter you spoke up.

“Stop.”

“What?” he breathed out. 

“You heard me.”

You did this for an hour and a half. Now you sat naked on the sofa chair in his room rubbing your fingers on your clit about to cum for the third time while Steve still had yet to cum. They were tears running down his distressed face. Whimpers and whines and moans choked out of him as he was being edged for far too long than he’d like.

“You ready, my fucking man whore,” you stalked up to him.

“Please, mommy. Please fuck me, I need so bad,” Steve reached for you with shaky hands.

“You’re so fucking cute when you beg,” you mocked, straddling his hips.

Steve’s hands rubbed your thighs and you lined his cock with your entrance. You sunk down and moaned already so sensitive from your previous orgasms. Your hands rested against Steve’s chest as he screwed his eye shut; an overwhelming sensation coming over him.

You rocked your hips back and forth rubbing your clit against his pelvis bringing you close to your final orgasm. Steve whimpered under you and moaned beautifully. His hips bucked up into you ferociously hitting a particular spot that made you moan loudly and high pitched.

“Fuck, Stevie. Your cock feels so good,” you leaned down to whisper.

“Fuck I’m so close,” he cried.

“You wanna come? You wanna come inside me?” you teased.

“Please mommy, let me come, please,” he begged.

“You gonna be a good boy if I do?” 

“Yes!”

“Go on, baby boy. Come for me.”

Steve came with a shout of your name and you felt the hot spurts of cum coating your walls making you come in time with him. Steve's chest had a layer of sweat of the flushed redden skin. He panted under you, his body shaking vigorously but his face had a small smile and his hands rubbed your back and cheeks when you fell forward after climaxing. 

“Holy fuck, I think that did it,” Steve chuckled.

“I had a great time,” you laughed. 

You got up and went to his bathroom to grab a washcloth soaked with warm water and a bit of soap. You went back to Steve cleaning his pelvis and dick that slick with yours and his cum. His body was still trembling but not as drastic as before, and when you placed the warm washcloth on his skin his body jerked lightly.

As you cleaned him you pressed soft kisses to his stomach and chest making him sigh in content. You went back and cleaned yourself privately and came out with a new washcloth slightly less warm to cool his skin down since his body got very hot from being edged for the past hour and half and not even being able to get close all day before you came. 

He stayed still, eyes focused to the ceiling feeling solace by your soft touch cleaning him up. When you finished you gathered your clothes to dress yourself so you could leave him to rest and then the next pretend like nothing of this happened.

“Hey wait,” he said, making you look at him trying your best to cover your modesty. You played a part and now that the small agreement was over you felt a bit shy under Steve’s gaze who still looked at you lustfully.

“Don’t you wanna stay?” he said softly.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” you smiled sadly. You did genuinely like him; even when he wasn’t particularly nice to you sometimes. But you didn’t think he felt the same way even after the effects of the pollen. You thought maybe he only desired you because you were the first person he laid eyes on when he got hit with the pollen.

“The pollen wore off, doll. Come to bed. You tired me out,” he laughed and moved in hands gesturing you to come to him. 

“Why are you still being weird then?” you smiled softly.

“Get your ass in bed with me so we can cuddle; fuck you’re so stubborn.”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so obsessed with me all of the sudden,” you teased. 

“Doll, I’ve been obsessed since I laid my eyes on you,” he said closing his eyes, which made you gasp dramatically.

“You were dating Sharon when we met!”

“Sh! Go to sleep,” he buried his face in your neck.

“Ugh, bad boy,” you playfully hit him.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll get even with ya next time, and we’ll see who’s being bad then,” he whispered sensually making you excited. Maybe the pollen wasn’t such a bad thing.

Taglist:

@mathletemadison

[the-cult-of-russo]

In the Stars (part 2)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader 

Request: So, first of all, I love your writing so much. I've just finished reading "In the stars" and I've loved it! Idk if you're taking requests but I was wondering if maybe you could do a part 2?

A/N: You guys… I had so many fucking requests for part two of this, I love you. I'm honestly overwhelmed by how much you guys engage with my work on here. 

Side note; I don't actually know much about astrology so take anything I say with a pinch of salt since it's done with surface level research for this. I'm more of a tarot girl myself and originally I was gonna switch the astrology to tarot since I know all about that. But I didn't wanna deviate from the request too much so I stuck with astrology. 

Warnings: cursing, bit of fluff, idk flirting? Talk of sex but no actual sex? 

If you guys want a part three to this which would mostly be smut then hit me up lmaoooo 

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You were lounging on a beat up sofa that was in the greenhouse at the back of the flower shop. The plants were watered and it was a nice day. You were taking a moment to relax and let the sun come through the glass above you like a cat basking in the warm glow. You knew a customer had come in a little bit a go. You'd heard a gruff voice ask Gemma for advice on flowers for his girl. But since you were never needed in the front, you just chilled out for a bit after popping some headphones in and vibing in the sun as you leisurely scrolled on an astrology site you were on. 

Maybe, just maybe, you'd been thinking about Mr Fancy Coffee man in the past three days since you ran right into him. You'd been sure you'd see him again at the time but it hadn't happened so far. Either way, you kept thinking back to his smile and his obsidian eyes and you smirked as you read what you'd already known when you'd called back after him to give him your own sign. 

'Aries and Scorpio Sex:

Aries and Scorpio like to turn the heat up with everything they do! So, you can imagine the bedroom as being one feisty! Aries is a fire sign, and Scorpio is a water sign. Mix fire and water and what do you get? Yes, it is steam! With this duo between the sheets, we pray the wallpaper can withstand the steam-effect! Aries and Scorpio are the same when it comes to an intense libido. They are energetic with enough energy to keep each other up all night long.'

You ripped your headphones out, tossing your phone on the worn out faded pink cushions as you bounded to the door to the main shop.

"Hey, Gem! Did you know that Aries and Scorpio are like hella compatible for sex? I mean we'd just be riding each other all ni-" your words died on your lips as you slipped through the beaded curtain to find the man from earlier who hadn't actually left yet. He was a little rough looking but he wore a look of shock and thorough amusement at your words as you smacked a hand over your mouth with a laugh. It wasn't really appropriate talk in front of a customer but even Gemma bit her lip to stifle her incredulous laughter. 

"I uh… I'm sorry," you murmured, a sly smirk on your face that said you weren't really sorry but said it anyway to be polite. He barked out a laugh and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. Sounds like a hell of a time," he replied with a chuckle. It put you at ease that he wasn't going to start something about your behaviour, threaten to take his business elsewhere. It wouldn't be the first time you'd done that. 

"Don't mind her. She's the crazy plant lady," Gemma grinned as she continued adding flowers to the bouquet on the counter. Some pretty forget-me-nots. 

"Hey! I'm not crazy just because I talk and sing to them. It's science! If I didn't do that then all these beauties would be withering away in misery," you pouted playfully, earning another laugh from your best friend and chuckle from the man. 

You looked at him then and he was already looking at you. His gaze wandered your face and hair like you held the secrets to the universe and you quirked a brow curiously. Knowing he was caught out, he glanced away and cleared his throat but his eyes flit back to you. It wasn't like you weren't used to looks since you were anything but ordinary, but he looked almost like he knew you or something.

"Sorry… just… thought I recognised you," he muttered apologetically. 

"Oh trust me, you'd know if you'd met her before. She leaves quite the impression," Gemma snorted. 

"I bet she does," the man said with a small smile as he looked at you again like he knew something you didn't. Or maybe you were imagining it.

You grinned as you walked towards the counter, leaning your arms on it as you admired her work. The bouquet was filled with purples and blues and it was breathtaking. 

"Serious relationship?" You asked casually. The man looked slightly taken aback by your bold question and Gemma swatted your arm as you gave her a look.

"What?" You asked with a huff. The man smiled and shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It is. Been together for a little over a year now," he had a lovesick look on his face and you found yourself smiling back at him. 

"You love her?" You asked softly. He rubbed the scruff on his chin with a bashful look that looked at odds with the rest of him as he nodded.

"That I do," he murmured fondly. 

You pushed up and leaned your hands on the counter as you glanced from the flowers back to him.

"You should get her a succulent," you declared. Gemma snorted again as she trimmed the ends off some roses and the man quirked his brow.

"You mean like… a cactus or some shit?" He asked, sounding confused and amused. 

You rolled your eyes, whizzing into the back and grabbing a small terracotta pot with a baby succulent in it. It looked almost like a flower with how it's leaves were arranged. You bought it back out to the front and back to him as you set it down on the counter.

"Meet Emily. She's cute and sweet and she says forever," you shot him a cheeky grin and he snorted, eyes darting from the plant to you.

"I'm sorry… Emily?" He asked with a smirk 

"Hey, she's a living thing like you and me, why shouldn't she have a name? And don't tell the others but… she's my favourite," you whispered the last part, eyes darting to the beaded curtain like you didn't want the others to hear and when you looked back at him he was smiling and shaking his head at you. 

"Look… flowers are great and all, a nice gesture and pretty to look at, but they wither and die. They go from pretty to morbid which is why they're great for special occasions but they don't last. But these cuties… they don't take much maintenance, it's hard to kill them and they're more… permanent. Flowers are a great way to say 'I love you' in a shorter sense, but nothing says 'I'll love you forever' more than one of these," you mused with a fond look at the plant. 

The man stared at the plant for a moment appearing deep in thought and when you glanced to Gemma, she was grinning from ear to ear as she wrapped up the arrangement in pretty pale purple paper. A similar shade to your current hair color.

"Fuck it. I'll take… Emily, too," he declared after a moment. You beamed and slid the pot over to Gemma so she could pack her up with the rest of the goods and ring him up. 

"You're good at this," the man said after a moment. You flushed a little at his words and snorted. 

"I just care about the plants," you shrugged with a smile. 

Gemma finished the wrapping and started ringing up the purchases as the man's eyes darted between you both.

"So… you two ladies got any plans later?" He asked casually. He didn't seem the type to make unnecessary small talk but Gemma opened her mouth to indulge him anyway. 

"A few of us are going out later to the bar down the street. The Lizard? It's not been open that long but it's pretty chill. It's nothing fancy though," Gemma smiled softly as she accepted the money from him, opening the register.

"Fancy places wouldn't let us in," you snorted with a smirk, toying with one of the many rings on your fingers.

"They wouldn't let you in. Besides, they have good music there and they don't mind when we let loose and get a little weird," Gemma laughed. The man chuckled with a nod before glancing back at you. He still had that look of recognition in his eyes and you tried to think if you'd ever seen him before. 

"Sounds like my kinda place. I might have to go with Karen and some friends sometime," he mused with a nod.

"You should, if you run into us let me know if she loves Emily. You've basically both adopted a cute earthy child so…" you grinned mischievously. He snorted, seemingly unaffected by you being yourself and you liked it. It wasn't often you got to talk to customers like this which is why you often stayed hidden in the back.

"I will. Have fun ladies and thanks for these," with that he was off and you and Gemma grinned at each other. It was nice to have a customer like that man, even if he did look completely out of place in a flower shop. You had a feeling he'd come back for more things for this Karen woman he was smitten with. 

---------

Billy sipped his beer, dark gaze flitting around the bar before he settled on his best friend. Karen was leaning on his shoulder and the pair had been nauseatingly close since they got here. Curtis and David were also at the table relaxing and talking to one another. 

"Is there a reason we're here?" Billy drawled as he sat back in his chair a little more. This wasn't their usual haunt and they didn't normally deviate from it. It wasn't so much that he didn't like the place. It was relaxed and quite similar to where they usually ended up. But it was a break in routine and he wasn't sure why. 

Frank shot him a sly smirk as he sipped his beer and it made Billy narrow his eyes a little.

"Well… I have it on good authority that little Ms Aries is gonna be here," he said smugly. Billy hated himself the moment he sat up straighter like an eager schoolgirl, especially when his friends all cheered and laughed at the news. He'd only told Frank about her, but Frank being Frank… well he'd told Karen and Karen told Curtis and David and in three short days it had become a running joke that he was hung up on a girl he hadn't even been able to get the name of.

Billy tilted his head, long fingers tapping on the beer bottle as he levelled his gaze at Frank.

"And how would you know that when we don't even know who she is?" He asked with a raised brow. Frank had a shit eating grin on his face as he leaned forward on the table a bit.

"Because I found her at her work earlier," he grinned. Billy blinked at him for a moment, mouth floundering as he tried to absorb that tidbit.

"Okay… so as my best friend and therefore wingman, is there a reason you didn't mention it until now?" He asked dryly. 

"Nah, I thought it would be a nice surprise and I didn't want you to talk yourself outta comin' here. Never seen you hung up on a girl before and I gotta say, she's a fuckin' riot," Frank snorted. Billy felt an unnecessary pang of envy at him then. Envy that his best friend managed to find her, spend some time with her maybe more than he had in the street. He knew it was stupid. His best friend was head over heels for Karen after all, but it was there all the same. 

"She works at the flower shop," Karen supplied with a soft smile as she looped her arms around Frank's larger one. Great, so Frank told her before he told him. Did everyone but him know? Why he was feeling like a petulant child, he didn't know, but before he could open his mouth to no doubt say something ridiculous, Frank's sly grin widened as he inclined his head to the door. 

Billy would lie until the day he took his last breath about how fast his head whipped to the door. He almost broke his damn neck. But there she was in all her purple haired glory and Jesus fuck was she the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid his eyes on. How did she get even more attractive in three days? Shit was ridiculous. But not as ridiculous at the nerves that bloomed in his belly at the sight of her. He was Billy Russo. Ex Spec Ops sniper. Former marine. CEO of Anvil. Serial womaniser. But now he was just Billy. Dumbfounded, actually kind of nervous and moon-eyed Billy. 

He watched as she and another girl she came in with walked over to the table with a few people and hugged them. Her smile was radiant and his eye twitched when she hugged the guys at her table. He kept waiting like she'd lean in and kiss one of them. To feel that crushing blow. But it never happened. In fact, the girl she'd come in with snuggled up to the one of the guys and the other had his arm wrapped around another girl at the table. 

"Well… you gonna go and get her name or what, Bill?" Frank asked with a snort. Billy cleared his throat, rolling his shoulder and glancing back to his beer before he shrugged.

"After my drink," he tried to sound casual but Frank's gaze softened a little and he hated that his best friend knew him better than anyone. He was just thankful Frank didn't call him out for it.

---------

You and Gemma had gotten to the bar a little later than usual because Gemma's cat snuck out the apartment and you'd had to hunt him down. He was cute but a menace but once he was back safe at home you'd both made a beeline for the bar. You had a few shots in quick succession to make up for the lost time and you weren't drunk but you felt the pleasant warmth spreading through you as you laughed and joked with your friends.

"Oh, I love this song, dance with me," you beamed, not giving Gemma a chance to protest as you grabbed her hand and moved a little from the table. It wasn't a club and there wasn't a dance floor but there was adequate space between the tables to dance. No one else was dancing but it was hardly the first time you and Gemma did this. It was always fun and amusing. 

You wrapped your arms around her shoulders and hers went around your waist as the pair of you giggled and swayed your hips. There were a few cat calls but it was all in jest. It was obvious you two were joking around by your over exaggerated movements and Gemma singing loudly and very off key, with your friends joining in the chorus. You loved your group of little weirdos. 

You turned around in her arms, hands still around her neck from behind as you swung your hips, eyes closed and a smile on your face. But when you opened them, they landed right on Mr Handsome himself who was at a table with some others and he was staring at you with wide eyes and a small smile. A grin spread across your face as you continued to dance. You knew you'd see him again. You paid little attention to anyone else as your eyes locked with his and he sat up a little straighter as he noticed he had your attention. 

You smirked, flashing him a cheeky wink as a call back to when you last met before you spun back around to face Gemma.

"So… the super hot guy over there in a maroon sweater? Looks like he's stepped right off of vogue? He's Coffee guy," you murmured giddily. Gemma didn't even hide the look she shot him before she laughed and looked back at you.

"First of all… wow. And second, he's like legit staring at you so hard right now," Gemma smirked.

You bit your lip with a smile as the song ended. Gemma gave you a hug before returning to her seat and then you made your way over to the bar and waited for the bartender so you could grab a beer.

"Can I get you a drink, astrology girl?" His smooth voice sent a shiver down your spine and you glanced over to where he was now standing next to you. 

"Of course. Beer please, Coffee boy," you grinned cheekily at him. He chuckled, ducking his head as he waved over the bartender and asked for two beers. 

"I told you we'd meet again," you murmured with a smirk, sipping the beer once it was placed in front of you. 

"You did. Although I think my friend Frank had somethin' to do with that," he replied with a smile as he glanced over his shoulder. You followed his gaze to his table and saw the man from the flower shop. Your eyes widened as an incredulous laugh left your lips and you gave him a thumbs up. You heard his laugh from across the bar. The woman with him was smiling wide and also watching you both, as were the other two men at his table. You had a feeling if you glanced over at your own friends they'd be doing the same thing. 

"So… do I get your name yet?" He asked, leaning his forearms on the bar. His shoulder brushed yours and it felt like a jolt of electricity shot through you. You glanced at him, a coy smile on your lips as you took another sip of beer. Your tongue darted out and swiped over your lower lip to catch a drop and you didn't miss how his dark eyes were drawn to the motion. It made your stomach clench. 

"Y/N," you smiled softly. You couldn't help it, you'd have given him anything he asked right then with the way he was looking at you. His face brightened when you relinquished your name, his eyes crinkling a little as he grinned. His teeth are perfect. I want him to bite every inch of me with those things.

"Billy," he offered, raising his beer bottle. You grinned as you clinked yours with his and you both took a drink. 

"I read some pretty interesting things about the sexual compatibility of an Aries and Scorpio," you murmured with a wry grin, nibbling your lower lip as you looked at him through your lashes. He was so close to you and you could feel his warmth through the layers of both of your clothes. And he smelt good. It almost made you dizzy.

"Is that so?" He asked, dark eyes intent on you and only you. His voice was lower than before and you fought the urge to jump him right there. You flashed him a toothy grin, a mix of flirtatious and just plain impish that made him smile.

"Apparently we're a match made in sexual heaven," you teased softly. 

You watched as he swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did. His almost black eyes felt like they were setting you on fire from the inside out with how heated his gaze was.

"Well now I gotta problem. Because I wanted to ask you on a date first but you're makin' it really hard for me to have any restraint," he purred. Shiiiiit. That tone alone would have you needing to change your panties when you got home. 

You smirked, all sinful as you leaned into his ear, your hand going to his firm forearm. You heard his breathing hitch before you even said anything as your hot breath landed on his ear.

"I'd really like that date," you whispered with a saccharine smile. Honestly, you weren't known for your patience and you wanted nothing more than to drag him back to your place and fuck him until neither of you could walk again. But the idea of a date, of dragging it out a bit, it intrigued you. The man had lived rent free in your brain since you both collided three days ago and as much as it would kill you, you knew the wait would be worth it and only make it better. 

You moved back a bit, your face still ridiculously close to his and he flashed you a devilish smile all of his own before he leaned down and kissed you. It was an intense kiss. Full of hunger and passion you'd never felt before and you didn't hesitate to kiss him back eagerly. There were some cat calls and you had a feeling a few came from your friends but you were hardly fazed by your brazen kiss with the most handsome man in the world. 

When you broke away, you were both panting and you felt your cheeks flush a little at how he looked at you. There was definitely arousal there but he also looked slightly awestruck. You flashed him another grin before slurping some of your beer and he chuckled as he did the same. 

You spent the next few hours sitting beside Billy at the bar as you got to know one another, all the little mundane details that really made up a person. You felt like you'd never get tired of looking at him, of hearing that smooth as silk voice or watching how expressive his face and eyes could be. And no matter what you said, whether it was embarrassing stories about your friends or about the plants at work, he acted like you'd just told him the best story ever. He was attentive and soaked up all of your words greedily. You couldn't remember the last time someone made you feel like this. 

You left the bar that night after agreeing for him to pick you up at 8 the next night and exchanging numbers. You'd kissed him that time and it was full of as many promises as his kiss had been. And you didn't miss the way Frank clapped his back once he returned to his seat either. The wait would definitely be worth it. 

[whaleofatjme1920]

Dealing With People Who Don't Care (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Dealing With People Who Don't Care

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language and calls to violence? Bullying, slight yandere behavior]

[AN: Requested from ѕρσσку яανισlι on Quotev! Idk if I'm ready to tell y'all that this was basically my first quarter of college.]

College wasn’t supposed to be like this, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. When you graduated from high school, you were told that petty drama and catty people were going to fade away because that was high school and this is college. Something new, something for young adults, and something you’d been looking forward to for far, far too long.

Truth be told, in high school, you didn’t really have any problems. You mostly got along with the people you did talk to and aside from a few arcs which you lovingly call ‘character development’, you generally kept your head down and to yourself which allowed you to stay off some of the cruller people’s radars. You were liked when it was necessary but ultimately stuck to yourself.

How did it all go so wrong?

When you first came in on orientation day, you’d met up with a group of girls and bonded on the train ride back to campus. There was a group chat made and you were a ready part of it. You felt nicely about your entire situation because these were nice girls, and they treated you like you held the sun and rose the moon. Is that what positive friendship was like?

For the first few weeks, everything with them was a bliss. Unfortunately, you were the only person from that group in your specific branch and major. This meant that you often spent most of your daylight hours alone or with yourself entirely. The other girls all had majors that were almost word for word the same, and that meant that they spent a lot of time together. Slowly, that had been growing closer and closer to each other and leaving you out.

It came in small doses at first, and you had chalked it up to your nature being so different from theirs. They were much more extroverted than you ever could have been. They were fire, and you were ice. But that did not mean that you were boring, or any less interesting, you were just quieter, preferring to take this just as softly. Wandering around the city with maybe one or two people, talking about the things that matter as opposed to getting wasted in a crowded apartment with fifty people who don’t even care about your wellbeing.

That’s what was different about you than them.

“Hey ladies,” you smile widely as you take your tray of food from the cafeteria to the table where all the girls sat. You notice that they’re all engrossed in conversation but quickly turn to greet you with smiles and waves.

“Hi, Reader! How has your day been?” Maria greets, her fingers gently tugging through her blonde hair. “Me and Georgina were just talking about you.”

Georgina nods and pats the seat next to her for you to sit down. “Yeah, what have you been up to?”

You take a seat next to the redhead and sip from your drink. “It was alright. With midterms coming up though… Little stressed,” you admit as the two girls sitting around you frown in response. “Lots of essays, some minor discussion posts, a group project but we’re just starting it early because it counts for like, 20 percent of our grade and is part of our final,” you say as you stab into your food.

“Oh? A group project?” Georgina asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

You nod. “It’s actually more like a partner project. I’m paired with this guy named Toby? But like, I haven’t seen him yet - he doesn’t show up to class,” you sigh.

“Maybe try emailing the professor,” Maria suggests. “But I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” she hums with a small smile, her hand reaching over and gripping yours warmly.

From there, the conversation that follows has you drifting away. By now, a third girl has joined the conversation and her name is Helena. Helena is also in the same class as you with the group project, but she isn’t as close to you as Georgina and Maria are. She greets you just as warmly but she turns the conversation in a direction you weren’t expecting.

Laughter rings out from the table.

“And that guy from last night?” Georgina giggles.

“He was insane!” Maria adds. “You have to come inside!” She mockingly says before bursting into another fit of giggles.

“And he dressed so weirdly,” Helena continues. “Ratty as all hell jacket and then followed us into the theatre? Asked to show us magic tricks-” she’s not even able to finish her words because she’s laughing much too hard.

You tilt your head slightly. “What happened last night?” You ask.

The girls pause for a moment. “Don’t worry about it,” Georgina says as she swats off your question. “You weren’t there.”

“This was last night?” You ask again.

They nod.

“Yeah, wasn’t anything special,” Maria attempts to shrug off before those three continue with their conversation and inside jokes.

You eat in silence, every now and then smiling and offering forced laughter as you think about what you did last night. You weren’t doing anything, in fact, your roommate went out on a date with her boyfriend and left you in the dorm all along. So, you finished your work a little early and started on some other things, then watched Netflix and fell asleep before midnight. You were free the entire night.

And they didn’t even think to invite you.

From there, you started to notice all the times they forgot about you and excluded you. It carried on in the sloughed off invites, the ‘sorry we can’t meet up for dinner,’ and generally just avoiding you. They had jokes they couldn’t share with you, and you were at their side, they acted like you weren’t even there until it faded into nothing.

Reader: Are you guys doing anything tonight?

Maria is typing…

Maria: no not tonight :(

Reader: oh okay! But if any of you want to come to Target with me or something..? Maria: sorry, I’m busy!

Georgina is typing…

Helena is typing…

After that, they’d left you on read, not even bothering to answer you. Later that night on snapchat, you saw the three of them wandering the city without you, laughing and having a good time.

Instead of talking to them right away, you focused on your classes and your work. And that meant finally tagging down toby.

You’d managed to finally get him in your sight after emailing your professor who struck some type of fear into him. You were able to meet him face to face at a little cafe somewhere off campus.

“Over h-here,” he calls out from near the window of the cafe, waving you towards the back.

You flash him a quick smile and let it fall before finally taking a seat across from him. You’re slightly surprised to see that there’s a cup of hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin is there waiting for you. “Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as you get comfortable.

“It’s n-nothing,” he says with a small smile. “I-I’m sorry for k-keeping you w-w-waiting all t-this time,” he continues in an apologetic tone. “T-Things with my f-family aren’t e-easy right n-now.”

Not wanting to push him, you nod and smile reassuringly. “It’s okay,” you relent. “So, this project..?”

“It’ll b-be a breeze,” he replies. “D-Don’t worry about i-it, yeah?” He picks up his own cup of hot chocolate to fight off the child of mid autumn and nods to you, his dark eyes scanning over your form. “I w-wanna know j-just who I’m w-working with.” He smirks slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling up like a know-it-all cat.

You look into your cup of hot chocolate and shrug. “Nothing too interesting,” you attempt to slide off.

Toby rolls his eyes. “Calling b-bull,” he snorts. “You l-look stressed. W-What’s on your m-m-mind?”

You sigh deeply and relax your body as you think back to the situation with those girls. “It’s nothing.”

Toby hums once more but does not push you. Deep down though, he knows something is wrong.

And that’s how it carries on. You and Toby meet every so often to work on your presentation and your paper together and your so called friends continually leave you in the dust. Before you know it, you’re spending more and more time with Toby than anyone else, and because of that, you don’t feel nearly as alone as you used to.

From Toby’s perspective, he would never tell you what he thought when he first saw you walk through those doors of the cafe to finally meet him in person.

When he first got that email in regards to him not showing up and worrying you, he’d rolled his eyes and pretended it didn’t matter. It was whatever, who cares? Apparently you. With a slight gripe in the back of his head, he looked you up on social media with the help of a friend named Ben and found all that he needed to know just by looking at your profile. He was almost ashamed to admit how enraptured with you he had become. That’s why he was so adamant you met him at a cafe, where he could spend time with just you.

When he saw you walking through the doors, his eyes scanned over every inch of you. You had a slight bounce in your walk despite it being so chilly.

He wondered if you wanted to be warmed up.

You looked so soft in his eyes, so sweet and so alluring. Just your looks alone was all he needed as water for a growing obsession.

Toby is addictive by nature. Seeing you was what allowed that addiction to take off. When he heard your voice? He felt like he was high.

He knew something was wrong with you when you sighed like that. It was a loaded sigh. Of course, after the two of you parted ways for the night and on good terms, he immediately dug into the lives of your so-called ‘friends.’ Let’s just say that damn near instantly, he did not like them.

Maria, a nursing major. He considered her an air head that wouldn’t get anywhere with substance, and saw that she was much more of a party girl than anything else.

Georgina, another nursing major. Also considered her a lost cause.

Helena, a medical assistant major. Toby considered her the worst one, but it didn’t come at first. He found that girl was vile in every sense. The things he’s overhead her saying about other people? Terrible. The things he’s overhead her saying about you? Absolutely unacceptable.

He noticed her whispers that cut like thorns wrapping around you from the shadows as he sat in class near her, but never next to her. He listened to the filth that poured from her mouth and was able to pick up the conversations from her phone like it was nothing.

And all of that? It lit a fire in him, a fire that would eventually burn her down and scorch her until she was nothing but ashes.

You’re about to head to class and present your final project with Toby. You look like a mess, and it’s not just from the lack of sleep because of your other class’s finals, but because you are absolutely emotionally drained and have nothing left to give. You’d finally formally broken up from those girls, but it did not come without tears.

Reader: hey guys, it’s been a little while, but I just wanted to get some things off of my chest before I call it. First and foremost, I want to thank you for the time we did spend together, but I don’t feel safe or happy anymore. These past few weeks have been nothing but straight ice and being left out and I’m just… I’m tired, for a lack of better words. I know that you don’t really want me around anymore, so I thought I’d just nip this one in the bud before it got out of hand or anything like that. I just - whatever, I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to offend you.

Georgina is typing…

Georgina: Honestly don’t take this the wrong way but you legitimately brought this all onto yourself.

Georgina: you don’t really talk to us the way that we talk to each other

Reader: but you literally never gave me a chance???

Maria: shes right tho,,,,, like, you just always kept to yourself. You didnt really give us anything to go off of

Georgina: right??? And it’s not like she’d actually do any of the things we wanted to do either

Reader: I’m sorry but like, I offered for you guys to come do some things with me and I even asked for you to tell me when you guys were making plans - I would have gone out

Helena: does it even matter now though? You brought literally all of this onto yourself there’s no use for you to just beg us for you to come back lol. Just stop while you’re ahead

Helena: you were never really there to begin with tbh you just kinda existed

Maria: exactly that! Like im glad we’re getting stuff off our chest because omg did you get on my nerves. Always quiet and just watching??? Never saying anything??

Georgina: RIGHT It was like a literal ghost in the room LMFAO

Reader: are you fucking serious right now?

Reader: you’re going to act like this?

Maria: you brought it on yourself

Helena: it was bound to happen

Reader: I cannot believe you guys are acting like such assholes right now

Maria: you did it first though?????

Helena: ^^^^

Georgina: ^^^^

From there, the conversation had delved into them throwing all of their problems onto you. It honestly felt like projecting, but you had a class to go to and project to present and no time to cry.

You wiped your tears, got ready for the day and headed out to your building from out of your dorm. Soon, you would be on break and away from this place that’s driving you up a wall.

You walked across campus and plastered a faint smile on your face as you continued to move through the nippy air. You enjoyed seeing the leaves as they danced on the flowing air and eventually kissed the sidewalk. You could smell pumpkin spice and the remnants of November. What a beautiful season.

Waiting for you outside of Wendell’s Hall was Toby, hands in his pockets as he leaned up against the wall just beside the door.

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask with a small smile.

“Maybe,” he hums with a small smirk. “C-C’mon, it’s a little c-chilly out here,” he says as he gently shuffles you inside after opening the door for you. He watches you carefully as you walk through the halls and find the elevator to get to the sixth floor.

As the two of you wait for the doors to open, Toby checks you over.

“What?” You say with a small chuckle.

“J-Just checking,” Toby hums. “A-Are you okay?” He asks as the doors open. He nods for you to go in first, and then follows in directly after. He watches your finger press the button for six.

“Why?”

“You s-seem a l-little tense,” he says as he looks over you again, his eyes narrowing in on yours. “I-Is it the p-presentation?”

You hold your hand out and make a ‘so-so’ motion. “I guess,” you reply, attempting to shove off anything that might make you cry again. Your eyes are a little dark, and your skin is still soft from the saline, raw from you rubbing those pearls of water with your sleeves repeatedly.

“You w-wanna talk a-about it l-later?” He asks softly, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder as he brings you into his side.

You look up at him and smile. “We’ll see.”

When the doors open, you and Toby quickly make it to your class and are pleased to see there’s spots open and the two of you can sit together. Toby is quick to snag the seats for the both of you and his warm expression falls when he sees Helena waltzing into the room.

Helena sits a little ways from where you and Toby sit before she wiggles her fingers at you like a nonverbal smile before actually turning her lips up in a fake saccharine smile.

You shift uncomfortably and instead focus on your presentation. You feel a little nervous, mostly because Helena is here and this is also a big chunk of your grade. You’re academically passing with flying colors, but a hiccup like this could spell something bad. You breathe out deeply when you feel Toby’s hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you.

“We g-g-got this,” he says with a small smile, squeezing you lightly. “You w-wwanna get it out of the w-w-ay?”

“No,” you reply suddenly. “I just want to see how this goes.”

Toby nods and turns his attention to the other students that continue to walk through the door. “A-Anything for y-y-you,” he says softly.

You barely hear it, but you smile all the same.

Presentations pass in a pretty boring manner. Your professor seems pleased with everyone that presents, and she offers praise and saves the criticism for emails, but so far, it seems like everyone is doing well! You’re almost fully calm by the time you raise your hand to present but when Helena and her partner begin snickering, your heart sinks to your knees.

“Alright, you two are good to go,” your professor says with a warm, reassuring smile on her face after she pulls up your project on the overhead projector. “Giving the remote to Miss Reader, whenever you two are ready.” She holds the remote out to you and then whispers ‘you’re gonna do great’ before taking her seat in the front row.

You silently thank her for her reassurance and then turn your attention to Toby, who begins the presentation.

You make sure to speak clearly and concisely as you present your project, paying close attention to detail and everything that was outlined on the rubric. You watch your professor’s expression light up brighter and brighter as you carry on with your half of the presentation. It seems that she’s really pleased with the both of you, but especially you!

Your big hiccup comes when the questions part of your presentation comes up.

See, prior to this, the questions portion had been empty and pretty dead. But of course, because Helena is here, she’s dead set on making you flop.

When she starts firing questions, you and Toby answer them to the best of your abilities. Admittedly, you are more than mentally dead at this point. With every question that Helena digs into you, you feel your brain cells dying off at an even faster rate. The lights of the projector bore into you and make you dizzy. You’re just… exhausted.

Helena finally poses a question that makes your face heat up. “So?” She taunts, her eyes looking at you innocently. “I just wanna know,” she continues, her eyes flashing.

You should be able to answer this. It’s so simple and right there in your bank of knowledge you just can’t open the vault.

“Miss Reader..?” Your professor quietly asks, pulling you from your thoughts. “Are you able to-” You shake your head, feeling numb and cold all at the same time. “I’m sorry, no,” you whisper. It was one of the first things you learned in the class and one of the most important.

Your professor nods and mouths, ‘don’t worry,’ before turning to the rest of her class. “Alright then, you two are dismissed. Give them a round of applause for their work.”

The applause surrounds you but you do not feel it, and when you move back to your seat, you can’t help but feel embarrassed. The looks that you get from those around you are of pity and ‘she hasn’t learned anything this quarter, has she?’ It makes your face burn with embarrassment and you feel so unnaturally warm because of it. A rush of emotions comes over you when you see Helena’s shifty glances and hear her insipid giggles and you hurriedly get your things together and bolt out of the classroom.

Toby shoots up when you rush out and he’s not able to catch you. Instead, he sits in for the rest of the class to give you some space and anything else the professor may say. His glare is turned on Helena. When she flashes him that same sickly sweet, mocking smile, he sees red.

Class ends shortly after that, the professor clearly uncomfortable with whatever just happened with Helena and Toby is keeping his ire hidden until what comes after he deals with you. He’s got a few choice things in mind he’d like to do to Helena, mostly spinal disfigurement and popping bones from their joints and scattering them across the country, but he knows he has to play this as slimy as she did. He’s already conjuring up ways to academically cripple her.

Toby pushes those thoughts to the side before he makes his way to your dorm. He’s nodding to the guy at the front desk and running up the stairs to find you faster than his thoughts can even gather. He just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He walks through the hall of your floor before going over the room numbers. He’s only been in your dorm once - the two of you tend to spend time with each other outside of the campus. Twenty four hour McDonalds, out and about in the city, public parks, the two of you just like wandering. When he sees the numbers of your dorm, he internally sighs and knocks. “H-Hey, Reader? Y-You in t-t-there?” He asks as he knocks again.

From inside, you shuffle underneath your sheets. He’s here? You don’t answer.

“I j-just want to make s-sure you’re alright,” he continues in a soft voice. “If you n-need space though, I c-c-can go-” he barely makes the motion to move when you open the door just a crack.

You look up at Toby with dark, puffy eyes. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, but he can see that you’ve been through hell and back emotionally. You look like a mess, in less graceful words.

“Oh g-gods,” he murmurs as you push open the door just a bit more. “R-Reader,” he says softly as he takes you into his arms, his shoe gently pushing the door closed as you wrap your arms around his waist, taking in the scent of graphite and sandalwood as you sob into his chest. “What h-happened, s-sweetheart?” He asks softly as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

You continue to cry into his chest and grip onto the back of his hoodie as he gently maneuvers you to the side of your bed to let your tired body rest. “S-She’s so mean!” You cry as you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, still gripping Toby like he’s the only thing grounding you.

“What h-have they d-d-done to you?” He inquires in a tone just a little louder than a whisper. Internally, he knows he’ll make all three of those demons suffer and leave the school, by any means necessary. He just wants to hear it from you to know how hard he needs to fuck up their lives. Judging by this interaction alone? It’s monumental.

You then go into a painful detailing of everything those girls have ever made you feel, at one point even bringing up the chats you have saved on your phone. Your breathing begins to even, but Toby’s vision grows redder and redder.

He listens to everything you say as you recount your pain to him and he grits his teeth. Especially those chats - those are unforgivable.

You’re exhausted by the time you finally finish telling him everything they’ve made you feel and the things they’ve done to make you feel this way. You finish it with just a few more words. “They make me feel so small,” you admit through sniffles and broken breaths. “They just - they made me feel so left out and so insignificant,” you admit, still wiping away tears.

Toby holds you tighter before one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek. “N-No! You’re n-not insignificant, you’re e-everything and m-more,” he begins to ramble. “Y-You’re s-s-so smart and p-put together and o-on top of i-it,” he continues, his thumb wiping away your residual tears.

“You’re just saying that-”

“I w-would never,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s more serious than he intended. “I m-mean everything I s-s-say and those g-girls suck. They d-don’t hold a candle to you,” he says as he cups your face.

“Toby…”

Toby hushes you by pressing a soft, almost scared he might spook you kiss to your lips as if he’s testing the waters. When you make no motion to fight him, he presses just a little more fervently before pulling away, leaving you with stars in your eyes. “I’ll handle e-e-everything, okay?” He promises softly, watching as the stars fade to exhaustion. “G-Get some r-r-rest,” he coos.

You allow him to lay you down as he moves the blankets to cover you before he gets up to turn off the lights. “You’re going to handle it?” You whisper as you allow sleep to veil over your body.

“Y-Yes, I’ll handle e-e-everything,” he promises again, flicking the lights off.

Toby fumbles through the dark for just a moment before slipping back into bed with you, allowing you to wrap around him like an octopus. He cradles you in his arms, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Sleepy t-time,” he mumbles as you cuddle into his chest.

You smile softly and feel your body go light, only anchored by Toby’s warm embrace.

[ador3him]

More more more cocky Frank pls!

Cocky Frank Part 7

pairing: frank x reader

warning: blood, violence, pain pills mentioned, swearing

a/n: okay so i think i might only do one more part after this. so send in more ideas omg 😭😭 also idk how casts work so like that will be a bad part on my behalf. anywayshsysys here you gooooo :')

y/n ran out the bus door, running straight past frank away from the bus. she kept running, to no where in particular just away from them. far away. she was overcome with so many emotions, she hated it. she couldnt control herself, she was angry, relieved, and happy all at the same time.

y/n ran up to a brick wall and punched it a couple times. the brick grazed her knuckles making dots of blood erupt from them. tears started pouring down her face. fustration tears. she didnt even know why she was angry. maybe because frank spent so much time annoying her and then turn around admitting his feelings. shouldnt she be happy, shes always had some sort of attraction toward him.

she got off the ground and walked further away from the bus. her knuckle was throbbing, blood was running down her fingers. she tried to open her hand from the fist she had made but she couldnt. the pain was unbearable.

"fuck," she whispered to herself.

"fuck!" she screamed kicking a nearby trash can.

she didnt know what to do. what could she do. she was in a completely unfamilar place, with a mostly likely broken hand and no phone. she sighed knowing she had to go back to the bus.

y/n walked the direction she came. mostly following the drops of blood she left until she got to the brick wall. which was only 3 minutes from the bus.

when she walked into the bus everyone look at her.

"what are you guys loo-" she began

"-are you bleeding?" mikey jumped up to help her.

"uh yeah i guess, hey dont touch it, it hurts, you fuck rag," she swatted him away with her free hand. in the corner of her eye she saw frank walk to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. he sat down infront of her.

"can i have your hand please?" he asked reaching for it. she place her hand in his.

"open it please," he avoided eyecontact.

"i cant, its broken or something," she muttered.

"what! why didnt you lead with that you idoit! cmon we have to go to the hospital." mikey ran to the bus drivers seat.

"you dont know how to drive mikey," ray said shoving him out of the drivers seat and into the passengers.

10 minutes later they arrived in the ER, thankfully it was almost empty.

"hey, i cant really open my hand and its in a lot of pain." y/n said to the girl at the desk.

"mhm yeah, whats your name,"

"y/n y/l,"

"okay y/n i can get you into the xray room... now actually, through that door to your right. you sir are welcome to go with her." the lady said referred to frank behind me.

"thank you," y/n said walking toward the xray room. frank followed, opening the door her making sure she didnt move her hand.

"y/n y/l, possible broken hand?" the doctor asked. she nodded in response sitting down next to the xray machine. the doctor guided y/n through everything they had to do before sending her and frank to the next room. they sat there in silence for a bit.

"what did you do?" frank spoke, barely audible.

"i uh punched a brick wall," she replied not looking up.

"that was stupid," he chuckled lightly, she just hummed in response.

"miss y/l, looks like you will be getting a cast," the same doctor from the xray room said.

"its broken?"

"yes, in two different places, on the pointer knuckle and on the middle finger. really did some damage, come here ill stary the casting," he spoke motioning to his little casting area.

after the cast was applied y/n was giving some pain meds and sent away. when they entered the waiting room everyone got up.

"jesus took you long enough," gerard groaned.

"it was 1 hour chill out," frank snapped.

"okay damn i was joking," gerard muttered walking to the door with mikey and ray.

"hey, when we get back can we uh talk," frank asked finally making eye contact. y/n felt butterflies erupt in her stomach. she just nodded.

[myriadimagines]

Seven Minutes

Marvel (The MCU) One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Other Characters: Liz Allen, Michelle ‘MJ’ Jones, Ned Leeds, May Parker

Warnings: panic attacks

Requester: @fangirlsarah16

Request: “Hey Sam! Can I have a one shot with Peter Parker where basically the reader and Peter have a crush on each other but is obvious to everyone but themselves so during a party, MJ and Ned lock them in a closet (7 minutes in heaven kind of thing? If you want) and the reader has a panic attack due to a past trauma so Peter comforts her and they confess or kiss or something along those lines? If it’s not enough detail or too much I’ll accept a gif imagine too! 💜”

Word Count: 2,744

A/N: Ugh I love writing the MJ/Peter/Ned dynamic idk I just feel like it’s so fun. Also I realized halfway through writing the first part it’s kind of the same beginning as another Peter one shot I wrote because I’m just That Unoriginal I guess rip sorry anyway, I hope it’s alright!

please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!

Your name: submit What is this?

“Do you guys think y/n’s going to Liz’s party tonight?” 

Peter twists the combination to his locker, attempting to appear nonchalant as he fumbles with an arm full of textbooks and his heavy backpack dangling over his arm. MJ pointedly rolls her eyes at his question, shooting Ned a knowing look as Ned struggles to hide his smile. Peter glances up to see his friends’ expressions, and he makes a face as he nervously stammers, “I mean, it’s not like I care or anything.”

“You could ask her!” Ned helpfully suggests the perfect excuse for his best friend to talk to his crush. Peter shudders, a nervous expression immediately washing over his face at the mere thought of talking to you – he would more than likely make a fool of himself, as he’s done countless times before.

“Yeah,” MJ snorts, nodding at Ned as she struggles to make herself heard over the excitable Friday afternoon chatter filling the crowded hallways. Students stream out of classrooms, catching up with friends as they excitedly prepare for the weekend, and Liz’s party has come up more than once in the passing conversations. “You could confess your love to her, while you’re at it.”

Peter yanks his locker door open, blocking MJ and Ned’s view of his very flushed face as he burrows his head inside. He hastily shoves his books onto the shelves as he exaggeratedly scoffs, replying, “Wh-what are you talking about? I am not in love with her, I just… I think she’s cool, is all, that doesn’t have to mean anything-”

“Speaking of,” MJ interjects Peter’s flustered ramblings, slamming his locker door shut and narrowly missing his fingers before spinning him around. “Here she comes. Ask her if she’s going to the party.”

Peter looks up to see you walking with your group of friends, head tossed back in laughter as someone cracks a joke. You teasingly reach over to give them a shove, a beaming smile on your face that Peter swears could rival the brightness of the sun. He can feel his heartbeat becoming increasingly frenzied the closer you are to him, and he can already feel all the words he wants to say jumbling up and tangling themselves into knots on his tongue. Quickly smoothing a hand through his hair, he straightens his grey Midtown High sweatshirt, which is admittedly not his best look, before shaking his head, ducking to hide behind MJ as he protests, “No, I can’t do it!”

“Peter, come on!” Ned urges as MJ grabs his arm, pulling him away from her as Ned grabs his other arm. “You’re going to miss your chance!”

Peter struggles against his friends, and before he can pull away from their grasp, they yank him in your direction. He stumbles forward, clearly underestimating the strength of his friends desperate to save his nonexistent love life, and he practically collapses into your arms, slamming into you as you drop the notebooks in your hands. The papers haphazardly stuffed in between your notebook pages scatter everywhere, and MJ and Ned quickly turn around, hiding their faces and desperately trying to ignore the overwhelming second-hand embarrassment they feel as Peter begins to stammer out an apology, crouching down with you to pick up your notes.

“y/n, I am so sorry, Ned and MJ- I mean I just… I wasn’t looking where I-” Peter blubbers, his nervous ramblings clashing with yours as you simultaneously babble your own excuse.

“I had no idea you were there, Peter, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention!” your face feels like it’s on fire, and you’re surprised you haven’t exploded into flames. He never fails to have such an effect on you, and you can never feel calm whenever he’s around. You veins feel like they’re burning, heating up every inch of your body almost instantly. You hope the frazzled look on your face isn’t as obvious as you’re pretty sure it is, and you nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ears as you continue, “You have nothing to be sorry for Peter, this is my fault.”

“No, don’t blame yourself!” Peter replies desperately, instinctively reaching out to touch your arm. A glaringly obvious blush immediately floods into his cheeks, and you feel like sparks are dancing on the skin where Peter’s fingers are. The both of you look up at each other, eyes wide, before Peter quickly snatches his hand away, handing you the papers you dropped as he adds, “I- I’m sorry again.”

You smile bashfully at him, the both of you visibly holding your breath as you rise to your feet. The both of you linger in front of each other, wanting to say something, anything, but lacking the courage to, before Peter quickly remembers the whole reason he had gotten into this embarrassing ordeal in the first place. “Hey, are you, um, by any chance… going to Liz’s party tonight?”

“Yep!” you nod excitedly, clutching your books tightly against your chest as if you’re trying to stop your heart from beating right out from your ribcage. Trying to tone down your enthusiasm, you attempt indifference as you ask, “Will… will you be there?”

Peter nods, unable to formulate a response through his excitement. You nod back at him, unable to contain your glowing smile, and you look over your shoulder as you hear your friends call your name. Turning back to Peter, you awkwardly tilt your head as you say, “I have to, uh, go, but I’ll see you tonight!”

Spinning on your heel, you jog after your friends, leaving Peter in a speechless daze as he watches you disappear around the corner. Turning around to Ned and MJ, he throws his hands up in the air as he cheers, “Did you guys hear that? y/n’s going to be at the party! And she said ‘see you tonight’!”

Ned lets out a loud whoop, grabbing Peter’s shoulders to give him a delighted shake, and MJ can’t help but smile excitedly for Peter before she clears her throat.

“Yeah, I knew she was going the whole time.” MJ smirks, and Ned laughs as Peter’s jaw drops. Shrugging, she continues, “What? It’s not my fault you weren’t observant enough to see Liz and y/n talking about it last week.”

—

Peter tries his best not to think about the countless outfits he had tried in front of his tiny bedroom mirror as he listens to Ned and May’s chatter. Peter can’t help but check his reflection in the rear-view mirror every few minutes, fluffing up his hair before deciding it looks ridiculous, and quickly smoothing it down before he fiddles with the buttons on his shirt. May casts a sideways glance at Peter, a knowing smile creeping onto her face as she casually asks, “Who’s going to be at the party?”

“Uh, just the usual.” 

“y/n!”

May can’t help but laugh at Peter and Ned’s simultaneous answers, and Peter whips around to shoot Ned a pained look. Ned laughs, and Peter groans as he buries his face in his hands, already knowing what’s coming next.

“y/n’s such a nice girl.” May comments, steering the car around the corner and thankfully, slowing down as she cruises down Liz’s street, studying the houses to find the right one. Peter screws his eyes shut, hoping they arrive at Liz’s house soon, and May adds, “You’ve got good taste, Peter.”

“May!” Peter exclaims, cringing as Ned nods in agreement in the backseat. May reaches over to affectionately ruffle Peter’s hair as she pulls the car to a stop, and Peter frustratedly swats her hand away before combing his fingers through his hair. “Thanks for the ride, we’re going to go now, bye!”

May grabs his arm before Peter can make his quick escape, and he sighs as he leans back into the seat, turning to face her as she smiles encouragingly at him. “Just talk to her, Peter. I’m sure she’s just as nervous as you are.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him!” Ned pipes up, and Peter shakes his head, refusing to believe it. Despite Ned and MJ constantly pestering him about the fact that you have as big of a crush on him as he does on you, Peter refuses to entertain the possibility that you could actually like him back. It seems too good to be true, Peter insists, you are way out of his league.

And funnily enough, you protest the same argument to your friends as they interrogate you about your major crush on Peter.

“y/n, he’s going to show up, promise.” Liz teases you as you glance around the room for what feels like the hundredth time. You smile sheepishly at her, realizing what you thought was you subtly checking out if Peter has arrived yet isn’t as subtle as you want it to be. Nudging you, she asks, “So, are you finally going to ask him out?”

“No!” you reply, mortified as you divert your attention to your drink, swirling your juice around in your plastic cup. “I’ll only get rejected, anyway.”

Liz rolls her eyes, launching into a small speech about how oblivious you are to Peter’s crush on you, while MJ listens a short distance away. Checking her watch, she groans to herself as she wonders why her best friends are always late. She leans back on the couch as she continues to eavesdrop on your conversation, mentally saving all the information she’s gathering to back up her argument she will inevitably have to make about how Peter needs to ask you out.

Peter and Ned let themselves in through the front door, and Ned raises his eyebrows at him as he asks, “So, what’s your gameplan?”

“I’m just gonna…” Peter shrugs, not wanting to admit he has no plan because his brain is too frazzled to think of one. He knows that even if he did have a plan, his mind will instantly go blank the second he sees you. “Uh, be myself.”

Ned’s nose scrunches up, and he opens his mouth before MJ rushes up. Shoving drinks into their hands, MJ scoffs, “I would lecture the two of you for leaving me alone at a party you guys insisted I go to, but unfortunately, we have more important matters at hand.”

Steering Ned and Peter into the living room, where a small circle had gathered, MJ calls out, “Wait, we’ve got two more players!”

She plops the two of them down on the couch, conveniently next to you, and you and Peter exchange nervous smiles. You barely have time to greet one another before MJ squeezes in next to Ned, making a point of wriggling around to push Ned up against Peter, who consequently nudges closer to you. Your shoulders brush, legs touching, and Liz places a bottle down in the middle of the table. She spins it, evoking cheers from everyone in the room, and Peter leans even closer to you as he asks, “Wait, what’s going on?”

“We’re playing seven minutes in heaven.” you lean over to him as you respond, inches away from each other you can feel each other’s shaky breaths on your faces. Your breath hitches as you can see Peter’s gaze flickering down to your lips, and you’re too preoccupied staring at each other in a transfixed trance to notice that the first spin of the bottle lands on you.

You look up in alarm as everyone around you choruses your name, laughing and making suggestive comments as Liz cocks an eyebrow at you, prompting you to spin the bottle. Gulping, you nervous lean over, flicking your wrist as you spin the bottle, and it feels like the entire room holds their breath as you watch the neck of the bottle swoop through your classmates before it slows to a stop.

Pointing right at Peter.

Liz struggles to hold in her excitement on your behalf as Ned clamps his hands over his mouth, giggling as MJ grabs his arm, shaking him as you and Peter look up at each other in shock. Your classmates all egg you on, your friends nearby jostling you and Peter, and it’s not long before Liz and Ned drag the two of you to your feet, pushing you into the nearby closet for your seven minutes. MJ locks the door for good measure, and you hear her and Ned high-five as she exclaims, “Finally!” 

The reality of the situation suddenly dawns on you, and the already tiny closet feels like it’s shrinking down on you as you bang your fist on the door, voice strained as you beg, “Hey, let me out!”

Peter initially feels disappointed, nervously shifting his weight from side to side before he realizes your panicked tone isn’t because of him. Peter can barely see you in the dimly lit closet, the only source of light being the light peeking through the cracks around the door, but he can make out your terrified expression and hear your trembling breaths. As you slowly sink to the floor, Peter crouches in front of you, gently holding your arms in his hands as he stammers, “Hey, what- what’s wrong?”

“I’m-” you struggle to maintain your breathing, trying your best to remember the techniques to overcome panic attacks. “I- I’m claustrophobic-”

Peter’s face pales, and he bangs harder on the door, before sighing in defeat as he knows the music is too loud to hear him. He debates smashing the door down, figuring he can worry about the consequences later, but you grab his hand, clinging tightly to it as you whisper, “Just stay with me, Peter, just-”

“Oh right, right, I’m here.” Peter nods, wrapping his other hand around yours as he leans closer to you. “You’re going to be okay, y/n, you’re not alone. I’m probably not your first choice to be stuck in a closet with, but I’m not that bad, and I’m… I’m not helping, am I?”

Even through your panicked state, you manage a breathy laugh. Peter’s hand squeezes around yours, and you feel your racing heartbeat gradually begin to slow as you reply, “Thanks, Peter.”

Peter smiles at you, feeling relieved to see you becoming calmer. He firmly holds your hand in his as you quietly add, “And actually, I don’t mind being stuck in here with you. I’m glad the bottle landed on you, actually.”

Peter has to control every inch of his body, every muscle in his face not to react at this revelation. Keeping his voice steady, Peter casually asks, “Why, uh, why’s that?”

Your hand trembles ever so slightly in Peter’s. “Because… because I like you, Peter.”

“What?” Peter blurts in disbelief, and you immediately feel a wave of embarrassment washing over you as you duck your head. “I- I never believed Ned and MJ when they said you did, because I figured, why would you? But I… I like you too, y/n, I like you so much, you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met, and… you said you liked me, right? I wasn’t imagining that?”

You can’t help but smile to yourself at Peter’s adorable rambling. Your heart flutters in your chest, overcome by a mixture of relief and happiness to discover that Peter likes you as much as you like him, and you laugh as you confirm, “You weren’t imagining it.”

“I… I know a dark closet isn’t the most romantic place, but… but can I kiss you?” Peter nervously asks, and before he can wait for your reply, you lean forward to kiss him, pulling him closer to you by his shirt as he shifts his position, wrapping a hand around your waist as he brings his other hand up to your face. The door suddenly opens, light flooding into the room and momentarily blinding you and Peter as you spin around. You pull away from each other, arms still around one another, blinking as your eyes adjust to the light. Looking up, you see a smirking Ned, MJ and Liz hovering over you, and you and Peter let out a nervous chuckle as your friends look amongst themselves.

“Really putting your time to good use, huh?” MJ taunts, and Ned flashes Peter a thumbs up from behind her. Nudging Ned, she pulls him away as she adds, “Maybe we should give the lovebirds some privacy. Looks like they might need more than seven minutes.”

tags: @proudchocolateaddict / @myfriendmagislit / @fire--pheonix / @sheridans-dynamos / @beautifulbows924 / @writinqss / @woah-imagines / @steve-rogersirl / @gofandomsandotherstuff / @melannchoholic / @mockingjaygirl1221 / @emmacata / @hauntedpocdreamer / @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt / @5aftermidnight / @fangirlsarah16 / @cnco-babes / @diskateatscake / @just-shuri / @bru-spanner / @real-fbi / @thisismysecrethappyplace / @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov / @fairytalesforever / @locke-writes / @lgbtonystarks / @musicallisto / @ayanemoon ↳ want to be added to the tag list?

[sapphicscholar]

I know you've kind of done this already in Tabula Rasa, but could you maybe write a fic where some of the Superfriends end up in a parallel Earth where all of the Superfriends (or at least most, I'd love to see another version of evil Alex for sure. Maybe a version of her who became evil even without working for a xenophobic DEO? IDK) are evil? (This prompt may or may not be inspired by my annoyance at the plot of the crossover...)

I just posted it to AO3! 

A/N:Ugh yes, we can all be annoyed at the crossover… Since I already did an actual evil alternate universe in Tabula Rasa, I went full on campy evil for this one (think Lucy Diamond in DEBS) that’s largely inspired by my earlier musings here. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy and sorry it took me a while to get to it! I’m finally going through some old prompt requests now that I’ve got a bit of time in these quiet few days at work.

Chapter Text

“Not again,” Alex hissed as the monitors flickered to black before flashing back up now covered in full color, high resolution photos of her from high school: black choker around her neck, black vest on, striped tie looped around the waist of her low-rise jeans, and some heavy black eyeliner to top off the whole punk rock aesthetic.

“You’ve got company headed up in 5,” James informed her, ignoring the litany of increasingly obscene threats crackling through his earpiece.

“Then get your little boyfriend on the phone and tell him to knock it the fuck off,” Alex growled, waiting for the inevitable refutation of their relationship, the insistence that they “don’t do labels.”

Even as he protested, James dialed Winn.

“Hello?” Winn answered, the poorly disguised snicker proof enough that he was behind the hack.

“C’mon man, we let Lucy have her heist last night without issue. Let Alex back into the system.”

“You’re getting off too easily,” Winn huffed.

“And I can guarantee you won’t get off at all tonight if you don’t call this off,” James threatened.

“You’re the worst.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“You know how much shit I’m gonna get from Vasquez if I give in this quickly?”

“What if we promise not to ruin their date night with Lucy this week?”

Winn paused, deliberating for a few minutes. “That I can work with.”

“Thanks, man.”

“See you tonight?”

“My place or yours?”

“James!” Alex growled, her voice startling him.

“Mine,” he quickly answered Winn, hanging up to refocus his attention on Alex. “You should be back in any second now.”

“Not dating my ass.” Alex continued trying to circumvent the active hack until suddenly it disappeared, the screens flashing back to the museum security feed she’d been trying to overwrite when Winn and Vasquez decided to play their little prank. “I’m back.”

“Good. You’ve got about two minutes.”

“Only need one.”

“That’s my girl,” Maggie chimed in, her voice barely audible over the sound of her motorcycle roaring to life.

“Always.”

“Now who’s being gross?” James teased, following Maggie’s location through her motorcycle’s GPS tracker.

“Still you,” came Alex and Maggie’s voices in unison.

“And we’re…clear!” Alex cheered, slinging the long cardboard tube over her back, wiping the keyboard even though she was wearing gloves, and bolting for the back exit where the security cameras were still under repair.

“Three, two, one,” James counted down, watching as Alex and Maggie’s blinking red GPS lights got closer and closer together.

“Hey babe,” Alex rasped, throwing on the spare helmet and straddling the back of Maggie’s bike. “Take me home. You know how I get after a good heist.”

“You still have to come here first!” James yelled, hoping he wouldn’t have to go over in the middle of the night to interrupt them…again.

“I’m thinking diamonds,” Lucy mused, her teeth nipping at Vasquez’s earlobes and her hips grinding down into their lap.

“Mm, yeah?” Vasquez asked, not trying particularly hard to pay much attention to their girlfriend’s words. At this stage, they were always just ideas, liable to change with a moment’s notice—often to thwart Alex’s latest ploy. They were just grateful that the rivalry had turned (mainly) friendly over the years. Back before Alex started dating Maggie, the two had been at each other’s throats,  more often focused on ruining the other’s heists than on actually accomplishing anything themselves. But now that Alex had a “mission statement,” which Lucy loved to scoff at, even though she liked to boast about how she operated within her own code of honor, they’d come to an uneasy truce that involved more playful attempts at sabotage that rarely turned violent these days.

“Can you two not do that in the van?” Winn whined. “This is my space—my sacred space.”

“You said that about your lab too,” Vasquez pointed out.

“Yeah, Schott, you only get one. Pick wisely.”

“Just don’t—keep your clothes on, alright?”

“No promises.”

“Why do I tolerate you two?”

“Because otherwise you’d be sitting in a lab full of perfect inventions without the daring to go use them yourself?” Vasquez offered.

“You’d have this van all rigged for surveillance with no one to watch for?” Lucy chimed in.

“You’d know how to make targeted explosions and decoys and holograms but never see them put to their best uses?”

“You’d—”

“Okay! Okay, I get it. You two are the muscle.”

“And the looks.”

“And the courage.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Vasquez said, shaking their head. “C’mon, who would actually know enough about computers to hack me if you left?”

“I guess,” Winn sighed melodramatically. “So you said diamonds…want me to start looking up possible targets?”

“I know just the one.”

“That so?”

Lucy nodded. “Oh yeah. She has more money than anyone in National City—just enough for some forcible sharing, I think.”

“Love the way you think,” Vasquez said, placing a kiss on Lucy’s cheek.

“Wait. You’re gonna try to rob Cat and Astra?” Winn asked, his mouth gaping.

“What? No, I don’t have a death wish,” Lucy laughed. “Besides, they’re already fighting the good fight.”

“Ah yes, that Lucy Lane patented code of honor.”

Holding two fingers up, Vasquez repeated in a military-esque monotone: “Criminals with honor do not harm or steal from other criminals with honor.”

“Damn straight.”

“And so how do you justify messing with Alex?” Winn asked.

“That sense of honor is still new. And these days I don’t harm her—just inconvenience her.”

“Fine,” Winn gave in. “But who’s richer than Cat and Astra?”

“Lena Luthor.”

—

The next morning, Alex carefully brushed away a speck of almost imperceptible dust from the broad shoulders of James’ suit jacket, watching in the mirror as he straightened his jacket and tightened the knot of his tie just a hair. Maggie handed him his phone and gun once Alex got his cufflinks fastened.

With a charming (and perfectly disarming) smile and wink, James slung the tube over his shoulder. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck when you look like that,” Maggie teased, swatting at James as he walked toward the front door, putting an extra swing in his step and letting out a deep laugh at the teasing wolf whistles and catcalls Alex and Maggie sent his way.

“We’ll be in the area if you need us, alright?” Alex added, her expression morphing into a more serious one.

“I know you’ve got my back, Alex.”

“Always.”

Within half an hour, James’ town car pulled up in front of the buyer’s restored nineteenth-century brownstone where he’d agreed to meet them—the hominess of it all somehow helping their genteel clientele to assuage their guilt over purchasing stolen artwork.

“Mr. Kent?” a middle-aged woman answered the door.

“At your service,” James replied with a small dip of his head and an easy smile that had her cheeks flushing a faint pink. “Can I ask your name?”

“Oh, I’m not the one you want to see.”

“On the contrary. You’re the very first one I’ve seen, which must make you someone worth knowing.” James smiled as any sense of wariness dissipated, the woman clearly charmed by him.

“I’m Katarina. I work for Morgan Edge.”

“Well it is my deepest pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Yes, I, uh, yes,” she stammered, mumbling her way through a few pleasantries before finally guiding him out of the entrance room. “Come right this way.” He followed her through a long hallway until they reached the home office in the back.

“Mr. Edge, it’s so nice to meet in person,” James greeted the man.

“I see you brought my newest acquisition.”

Right to business apparently, James thought. “I did. I assume you’ll want to see it first.”

As he pulled the tube over his shoulders, Katarina returned, a small mug clutched in her hands. “I brought your espresso.”

“Thank you,” James said, his deep voice rumbling over the disgruntled huff of Morgan’s complaints about her always interrupting his meetings. He paused for a moment to sip at it. “Always better to enjoy while it’s hot,” he added by way of explanation. “And it is excellent, Katarina.”

“Well, if you ever find yourself in need of a fix…”

“You’ll be the first person I call.” Sensing Morgan’s growing frustration, he turned back to the tube, slipping on a pair of gloves to pull out the painting.

Morgan leaned in closely, magnifying glass in hand as he inspected a few areas—always the same ones, James thought to himself, almost disappointed by the predictability of it all. After several long minutes, Morgan nodded. “It will be the perfect piece for my study.”

“And now it’s my turn to inspect.” James carefully rolled the painting up once more and stuck it back in the tube.

“Of course.” Morgan handed over a briefcase full to the rim with stacks of bills before turning back to his desk. With the painting strapped to his back for safekeeping, James checked the totals, then ran the special detecting pen Alex had invented to find fake money by scanning the chemical makeup of the ink and paper over the edges of the bills.

When Morgan turned again, already demanding to know what the holdup was, he found a gun pointed between his eyes. “And what do you think you’re doing?” he growled. “In my own home? I’ll have the police here before you can even think of pulling that trigger.”

“Oh, I don’t think you will. At least not when you’re buying stolen art and trying to pay me with counterfeit bills.”

“They’re perfectly real,” Morgan scoffed, pulling out one of top stacks.

“No, no.” Shaking his head, James pulled out the stacks beneath it. “The rest of it.”

Looking slightly inconvenienced but not at all abashed about having been caught, Morgan unlocked his safe and pulled out another briefcase, which James inspected thoroughly. Finally convinced that they were real, James added the top layer of real bills from the other briefcase to the new one—“for the trouble you put me through”—and handed off the painting, slowly backing out of the room, gun still pointed at the man until he was out of sight.

—

“Deal’s done,” came James’ voice through the intercom once he was safe in the town car again. “You need backup?”

“Nah, this part is the easiest,” Maggie answered, grinning over at Alex, who was leaning heavily against the wall of the warehouse, barely stifling her tired yawns. “Looks like I wore you out last night, babe.”

“More like Lucy did,” Alex huffed. “I’m so sick of having to deal with the added stress of her shit.”

“Oh please, you two keep each other sharp.”

Before their bickering could escalate—or turn into the heated makeup sex they favored—they heard the door creak open, and Alex smiled as Maggie greeted the first man through the door in perfect Spanish. They never used names, but she still felt close to him, a level of loyalty she afforded to very few of her other clients.

“I believe we have something that belongs to you,” she said, switching back to English when the rest of the group joined them.

“Already?”

“We’re nothing if not efficient,” Alex chimed in.

“Why?” one of the women in the group asked. She was new, Maggie noted, and rightfully suspicious of a gift that seemed to come with no strings attached.

“I don’t take kindly to my country profiting off of stolen artwork. I’m simply…expediting the process of repatriation.”

The woman scoffed. “And your country is okay with this?”

“Was yours when we stole the art in the first place?”

“And there are no strings attached?”

“Ah, well, I do like a nice bottle of wine—I’m partial to reds, and my partner here likes a dry wine.”

“Anything for you,” the man from before added, tipping his head to Maggie before taking the tube from her. “As always, thank you.”

“Anytime.”

—

“Have I mentioned lately how much I love having shapeshifters for friends?” Kara asked, throwing an arm around J’onn’s shoulders and reaching a hand out to M’gann. “Because I really, really do.”

“Whatever we can do to help Lena’s shelter—just say the word,” J’onn said.

“As long as you never say a word, then we’ll be just fine.”

“I still don’t see why the girl won’t let her good deeds be known,” M’gann mused, letting go of Kara’s hand to settle back in behind the bar.

“It’s harder to blackmail rich bad guys when you’re not invited around anymore because the Luthor last name has lost all meaning.”

“You’re the one that collects half the dirt with your powers, though.”

“But I wouldn’t know where to go digging if it weren’t for Lena’s first steps. Plus, you know how she enjoys siphoning off Luthor Corp funds. It’d be less fun if she had to spend her own money.”

“You know we’re mindreaders, right?” J’onn asked, arching an eyebrow at Kara.

“You can’t read mine,” Kara countered.

“No,” M’gann admitted, “but we know that your little girlfriend donates half of her personal income to charities every year.”

Kara groaned. “Don’t tell her you know, okay? She doesn’t want people knowing about it—once people know, it ruins it for her.”

“Whatever you say…”

“It’s not like you want people to know you’ve been volunteering to keep her refugee center running either.”

“No one would willingly enter a center run in part by a White Martian, especially one who shapeshifts to steal and infiltrate the local police units.”

“And you think that they’d send their kids off to play with a Luthor?”

“Point taken.”

“Anyway, are you two coming over for dinner tonight?”

“Not tonight, sorry,” J’onn apologized. “We’re a little short-staffed at the bar, and you know how Friday nights can get.”

“But next time, we promise,” M’gann added, reaching over to give Kara a hug before she left.

—

“We should really get going,” Astra sighed, even as she lifted her arms to allow her shirt to be removed. “Wouldn’t want to be late.” Her breath hitched at the feeling of teeth nipping at her neck and nimble fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper of her black pants.

“She’s not my niece,” Cat shrugged. “Besides, I’ve always preferred to be fashionably late.”

“And yet if I’m just a minute late for dinner…”

“I. Do. Not. Wait.” Cat declared, punctuating her words with harder bites, wishing she could leave some kind of mark on that flawless skin.

“I always make it worth your while, though,” Astra drawled, easily flipping them so that Cat was on her back, her breathing ragged and her chest flushed a faint pink.

“Last night you didn’t.”

“Last night I had the chance to sabotage the newest oil pipeline, darling. I don’t complain when your work comes first.” Astra’s fingers trailed up Cat’s thighs, gently pushing up the hem of her dress.

“I know, I know. It’s just a shame—you know my fingers, talented as they might be, just don’t compare to your tongue.”

“Well, why don’t we get dressed for dinner with Kara, and when we get back, I’ll make it up to you threefold.”

“I suppose I could be amenable to those terms if you let us take the car to dinner tonight.”

“But flying is so environmentally friendly.”

“It’s windy.”

“I’ll shield you.”

“We drive a hybrid.”

“Fine,” Astra finally relented.

—

Looking around the table, Kara couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her friends and family all gathered together, laughing as Maggie regaled them with tales of Alex’s latest misadventures with Lucy, Vasquez, and Winn. As much as Alex complained about the lot of them, she knew better than to believe that she truly hated them. After all, it had been Lucy and Alex who’d willingly put aside their differences to bring down Non when Astra’s life was in jeopardy, then again when Max Lord came for Kara herself. Plus, she doubted that Alex would voluntarily spend hours sifting through childhood photos of someone she truly despised, even if she was looking only for the most embarrassing ones.

“What matters,” Alex finally cut in when it seemed like Maggie was just one step away from pulling out the photos for a show and tell, “is that we made it out just fine.”

“Which is why we’re letting Lucy have her little date night tonight without any interruptions from us.”

The laughter that filled the room was soon cut off as both Kara and Astra sprung to their feet.

“We have company,” Astra hissed. Within moments, everyone in the room had at least one weapon drawn, all of which were pointed at the intruder that Astra whisked in through the balcony window and unceremoniously threw to the floor.

“Lucy?” Alex gasped, seeing the telltale full body black leather suit she wore when she went out on her little cat burglary missions.

“The hell, Danvers? I thought you were gonna let me have my date night.”

“Since when is your date night crashing my family dinner?”

“Since when is Luthor family?”

“Since she started dating me,” Kara just about growled, crossing her arms and stepping protectively in front of Lena. “And if you’re here to hurt her, you’re gonna have to fight your way through each and every one of us first.”

“And you know better than to touch my sister,” Alex added, her tone sharp as she let her gaze flick pointedly to the gun in her hand.

“Since when do you protect the rich?” Lucy asked, turning her attention to Maggie, figuring she was the best bet for an ally—she had the whole Robin Hood schtick down to an art.

“When the rich are giving more money away than I could even if I managed a heist every day.” Lena began to object, but Maggie waved off her protests. “Alex hacked into your accounts the first time she found you and her sister in bed together. Be lucky that’s all we found.”

“If you’re so charitable, why have you been ordering millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds?” Lucy demanded.

“Most of them will be sent back to the communities they were stolen from,” Lena huffed. “I might be a villain—”

“Hardly,” Maggie scoffed. “Blackmailing the worst of your one-percenter pals with your girlfriend, stealing from your family’s evil company—they hardly make you a villain.”

Lena just rolled her eyes. “Fine. But, since the surprise is sort of ruined now…” Turning to face Kara, Lena dropped down to one knee. “Kara Danvers, the months I’ve spent with you have been some of the best ones of my life. There’s no one I’d rather extort and blackmail with than you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes!” Kara gasped, dropping down to her knees as well and pulling Lena into a passionate kiss that may well have gone on much too long to be appropriate in front of family, friends, and intruders were it not for the loud whooshing sound and the way the whole floor seemed to shake.

“The hell did you bring with you, Lane?” Alex growled.

“It wasn’t—” But Lucy didn’t have time to finish her thoughts before a large silvery portal opened up, and doppelgangers of Kara, Alex, Maggie, and Winn thumped to the floor, looking more than a little taken aback at the sight of so many people and weapons surrounding them.

“Who are you?” Kara finally demanded, glaring at the intruders, letting her eyes burn red.

“Um, I think we’re you…from another Earth—Earth-38 to be specific,” the new Kara volunteered. “We were over on Earth-1 helping out some friends, but we had to leave in a hurry, and I think maybe we set up the breech incorrectly…”

“No shit,” Alex growled, looking closely at her Earth-38 counterpart and refusing to lower her weapon.

At that moment, Lucy’s earpiece crackled to life with Vasquez and Winn’s worried questions. “I’m up in the apartment…whole story there. But, uh, we’ve got company, and I think you’re gonna want to see this.”

—

Earth-38 Winn scoffed at his doppelganger, having found himself increasingly disgusted as he heard him joking about heists and devious inventions. “How could you? After everything that happened with our dad?”

“After everything that happened, how could you not?” his evil counterpart shot back. “You watched him lose everything—his career, his money, his inventions, his wife, his love for life, his desire to live. How can you justify sitting back and doing nothing to avenge him?”

“Somehow I don’t think a murderer losing his love of life while he rots in prison really rises to the level of vengeance-worthy crimes against humanity.”

“Prison?”

“For murder.”

“What do you mean? He didn’t do anything. He let his boss take credit for his inventions, rolled over each and every time until he had nothing worth fighting for, nothing worth living for.”

Winn stood there blinking. “I…that—that’s not what happened on my Earth.”

—

Across the room, Maggie and Alex sat together, watching as their Kara and Winn worked with the other Earth’s more tech-oriented folks to try to make sure that any new breeches wouldn’t send them to yet another Earth that might be even less friendly toward them.

“You didn’t seem surprised that your doppelganger isn’t the paragon of virtue,” Maggie noted.

“I’m not.”

“Why’s that?”

Alex shrugged. “I’m not Kara. I’ve killed before, and I likely will again. I do the things that need to be done. I’ve never been a saint.”

“But you’re no villain.”

“But to have lost things like that…this Alex had both of her parents taken away and was left with another girl who had lost her whole world, who didn’t get a loving, supportive family to raise her. Instead she was left with me—some bitter teenage rebel who wanted nothing more than to see this world pay for its crimes.” Alex shook her head; it was impressive that they’d ended up as decent as they had. Sure, her counterpart had stolen and lied, but she’d never descended to murder or kidnapping or anything of that nature. She suspected Kara had something to do with it; even if this version of Supergirl was willing to claim power in a way hers never had, was willing to kill when it came down to it in a fight, she still fought for justice, still fought for good.

Regarding Maggie, Alex added, “You’re not exactly stunned yourself.”

“If I didn’t have an aunt to take me in, of course I’d have turned to petty theft. Plus, Robin Hood was my favorite Disney movie…”

Alex laughed. “I guess even here you’ve got a pretty deep-rooted sense of justice.”

“Yeah. And here you’ve got an undercut,” Maggie added, veering them toward lighter topics. “It’s pretty hot.”

“I really hope you’re not suggesting some threesome.”

With a loud bark of a laugh, Maggie shook her head. “Not in the slightest. Just, you know, if you ever wanted to change up your look…”

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

There was this little boy. He was so so so bad.

Oh he was bad in the boys bunker.

Saint Luches complained to me he wanted to ring his little neck but he was too cute. But he was just smashing shit up all the time, making a mess and being disrespectful.

I went down i saw what he did and i said "oh he ain't too bad, put him in the girl's bunker"

"Are you kidding me? They'll all be dead by morning! Lets take him home with me. Ill whip him into shape"

"Oh i get to be a girl" oh he was a smart ass!! Oh he was gonna need a good fixing before he got too old.

"Oh I see why you wanna take him home. Hes kinda funny. It's been bored around the house kind of late"

"I know. Sex and food. Sex and food. I need something more substantial"

"Oh it's been great. I've loved it i must admit. But i love you and I might just love you, too, huh little girl?"

"Sex and food" he was tossing his head and mocking while i talked. I thought maybe he wasn't listening then he jumped and turned to face us "IM A BOY!" scared me He looked like he could kill me

"Oh i didn't know. Lets go. Keep on walking. Were almost there. Not too long now"

"Ima girl. Ima swish my hair" he tossed his shoulders and smoothed his hair down. But he twisted up his face all angry and did it. Which made it hilarious.

I tried to stifle a giggle.

He jumped in front of us again. We were both smiling this time, not worried about the future or the child between us.

"Alright let's go" he got between us and grabbed our arms and pulled us along fast. Boy walked fast for as tiny as he was.

Saint Luches looked at me wide eyes like OMG "these mood swings on this one What a wild one!!"

"Come on let's go" he chomped out at his throat

"Ohhhhh he's a cartoon"

"GI JOE, yep i hear it. Unfortunately he's the bad guy"

I Bent over at my waist "is that GI JOE, little one?"

"Come on let's go" he used the same gruff voice "what's this thing called?"

"An elevator"

"How did you know what he was asking about, babe?"

"He was looking up at the numbers"

"14th floor" said our little unknown soldier.

"Oh he's good. He knows what an elevator is used for. I wonder what his name is"

"My name's not Joe but you can call me Joe" he barged into our apartment with us.

"Oh this is gonna be fun!!" I wheeed myself in "you can put your coat here by the door"

"He leaves it on" saint Luches turned to tell me "wait wha???" He stopped and looked in wonder and amazement as the kid took off his coat

"Here you can put it on the hook up there. Im too short." Said the gruff boy "I always put it on when you get there because you take us outside you dummy dipshit"

"Woaaaah!! I love this kid already!! Hes so smart and kind! Totally gracious, too"

Saint Luches rubbed his face in agony like what the Hell did I do to my perfect life?!?!

"Dont worry, you're beautiful" I touched his arm as I passed from the foyer into the living room where he awaited for us, me and little dude.

"Are you two gonna have sex? My mom use to and ow my arm!"

I got on my knees next to him "Oh no. Here let me see it." I rubbed his long skinny arm "where does it hurt?"

"It doesn't i just wanted to see what you would do" still the gruff voice

"This isn't the first kid you brought home but this is the first lying one" I went to see saint Luches in the doorway.

"He barely did!!" Saint Luches complained "don't jump on the couch!! He's already called me a dipshit, too. And I'm gonna get him!!"

"Don't..." I put my hand on my forehead and turned, my hand sliding down my face as I did.

"Hey now I gotcha!!" He grabbed that kid off the couch and boy he started beating him about the head and shoulders. I can tell when Saint Luches is trying to be patient. And when he's really holding a temper. And when he's confused.

"Hey now, let's see. Come here" that little kid made sound effects as he latched onto my arm with his teeth. "He hasn't mentioned a dad. Just a mom. But apparently he doesn't like her either" i let little Joe tear At my arm and shake it in his mouth like a dinosaur. Pulling back hurts the kid with that tight a teeth grip and growing teeth shouldn't be damaged and in addition ripping my arm back increases the risk of ripping apart my arm in huge ways. Otherwise its bite marks and chew marks which heal much faster.

'What the hell!?!?!?!?" Saint Luches put the kid down "see? I told you! All dead by morning!!"

"He just needs some toys. Lets see what we have in the toy box by the window here"

"My mom's on drugs. I get toys"

"He can have them. Just leave you alone! God. What the Hell did i do here?!"

"The other boys will be here soon. You can ask them"

"My mom is on drugs. Yeah yeah yeah."

"Boys?"

"Just the Alan. I forgot the others.. Should be or are dead"

"My mom's on drugs. Yeah yeah yeah"

"What the Hell is he saying to you?"

"I know i heard you sweetie! My dad is a drug addict, too!"

"My mom, she says she's not an addict. Just on drugs, there's a difference. And we're not black. Just not white"

"That's okay. You can be any color you want to be"

"Nuh uh. I only stay one. I checked!!"

"Yeah don't you feel dumb?" Saint Luches asked.

"Why because idk how to change colors?" He crawled across the floor, "oh teach me wise one"

Saint Luches lost his funny bone with this one. I thought it was hilarious.

"Admit it! You want to laugh! Oh wise one bringing this lad to me!"

"He isn't wise! It was a joke!"

"At least the voice?! It makes it fun!"

"He's the evil guy on the cartoon show!"

"Well ask Alan. Because i don't think so, he's too smart. Plus he knew you were mad for him jumping on the couch"

"Oh jump on the couch" there he went.

"You deal with this one. You already been bit"

"Give me your hand. Now what do you want to do? Sit or get down? You could fall and get hurt"

"Fall? This is just like mine at home.. I thought"

"Its white!!" Saint Luches Makes so much sense to kids that are taught to jump on sofas then kidnapped.

"When this one is a little different sweetie. We prefer you didn't jump on it. So lets talk what's this guy's voice, the way you talk. Sound like, what does the cartoon character that most resembles your voice look like"

"Oh he's tall and nonchalant. He is for real. Let's watch see if it's on"

That little boy grew up into a man. He is on TV. He still pretends to be GI JOE, but in big kids style.

On SWAT. Criminal Minds.

He would be bad. And he would test patience and he used to be beat at home. He knew what a real ass whooping was.

I'd count if he didn't wanna get up and put away the toys. 1. 2.

"Can I watch tv still?"

"Pick up the toys it's still on"

3. 4.

"What number is it?"

"Oh i forgot. Now you be good so i don't have to count and I'll make some food/breakfast and we will eat on the floor in front of the white couch"

I made him pick up toys we left in the floor the night before. Then he Just took them right back out.

Saint Luches complained about them in the floor "hon, will you have him pick them up?"

"Sure babe" and he still complained.

I took him to work with me and we would watch cartoons till the last minute.

So Saint Luches got so mad. He said "im gonna go in late to work to see what you do to this kid. He's well behaved but there's toys all over the place"

He played with a doll. A block and 2 carton of cigarette boxes. That was it.

So he got us to time the cartoon and when 5 minutes was left he got the kid to put them under the TV

"Oh that was easy!! I thought you wanted him to do it as exercise. To practice! For when he went home or something and got old! Now you can quit bitching!"

Saint Luches was right, tho. He would killed those women. I had just finished telling him about a new lamp and how it was heavy. And he picked it up over his head. I didn't mention not to touch it. But i was in the floor when he decided to. Scared me to death.

Alan worked nights. So i started screaming for him cause i had just taken him breakfast in bed and he thought i was being dramatic

But really he just wanted to see how heavy the lamp really was.

I had been having bad dreams. We had just kicked Matt Hagan out for wanting to human traffic. And i kept dreaming he was going to go back for revenge. We had the new lamp and I had dreamed he attacked us with it. But kept plugging it in all over the house.

And I just saw his rage face when the kid had it.

It took saint Luches like 10 days to settle himself. Kids were not really his thing... Not kids he didn't understand.

Usually we sent most kids to the woman's side because all the girls fussed over the babies and young ones. So they were always mothered and taken care of.

I didn't have too much trouble with him. Usually he got his cars stuck in my hair if I forgot to pull it up. But he would drive them on my arms and shoulders.

I did take him to the doctor because he always gruffed the GI JOE voice. But the doctor said he didn't have damage and in time he would talk.

I had figured he felt either uncomfortable or comfortable and So he used a different voice than at home just because his life was different.

The doctor agreed it may be psychological. I Just wanted to ensure he didn't have a problem internally. So Saint Luches took him for the xrays the next day.

"He was fine. But he kept playing with those two empty cigarette cartons." Saint Luches told me

I told him they weren't cigarette boxes, they were cannons. Mac trucks, moving vehicles. They were every thing but empty cigarette cartons.

So Saint Luches bought him every thing under the sun. But still he wanted those empty cigarette cartons.

"Why?! Why?!? Why!?! Why do you do this to me?!?!" Saint Luches grabbed him by the shirt after crawling to him on his knees

"Because you tell me not to throw. I throw this you say good job. Paper airplane good job. Ball? Boy don't throw! I like all my toys to be throw. And lightweight" he said in a deep almost normal voice.

"See he's smart! And he listens to you!" I pleaded with him to find a happy medium.

So Saint Luches went into the toy box and pulled out all the toys the child could throw and put them seperate in a laundry hamper. "Throw. Throw. Throw. You can throw all these"

"But you told me this 'no throw' and this and this and this and this and this"

The child nearly emptied the hamper.

"Now what's he doing?"

"He is not negotiating with you. Hes telling you what you've told him before. I've seen him out the corner of my eye when we watch TV. Hes been testing you. Checking to see if you notice and what you say. I watch his face. Thats why we bought the lamp so I could see."

"So, what you're saying is I've told him no to throwing all these toys before?"

"Yup. No honey" i got down on the floor with them, unfortunately there was tears in the child's eyes 4 tears "HE is telling you. This is what you see he has said to you and i have repeated it. Okay babe?"

"So, now what do i do?"

"Reinforce"

I took each object and showed it to them both and said "throw?" Until the child nodded. And i put it in the basket. When it was full. I picked up all the items and threw them behind me. I didn't look. Just tossed them.

Then I asked Saint Luches to help me clean up.

Then they both sat in the floor with the basket between them. "Well! Don't just sit there! Throw"

And the kid tossed some balls. Into the floor a foot from him.

"No, Saint Luches. I want you to throw with him" i got a toy from the basket "baby look. Throw?"

"I just said that yeah!"

"Ok baby look let me see your hand" i put the ball in his hand and made his wrist move to throw the ball out onto the floor. "Come on you can do better than that!"

Took him 2 days to learn to play with the 6 year old (we guessed) child.

Eventually we got another basket and they practiced throwing across the room from basket to basket.

We had him for 2 and a half weeks before I took him to Michael Jackson and said "he needs to be in TV. He memorizes everything and he is so good at it. Even does voices and sound effects"

Michael looked at me quizzically "you never do this. Singing yeah but acting no."

"But he has a gift. A deep gift. Try him. Give him a script"

He did. He blew Michael's mind.

"Get me his parents! I gotta sign this kid up!"

"She's on drugs that's all i know"

"This..this kid is a drug baby?!? No way! No way! You're right! And he's black! Two boot! Yeah that's my man!"

"Where did you get him from?"

"He was driving Saint Luches crazy in the bunker so we took him home"

"You aren't supposed to just take kids home you know"

"The CIA knew"

"I was just giving you a hard time. I'm lucky you did! Were all gonna be rich off this gem!"

"He really is sweet too!"

Here i am in mom jeans with my little girl with the swishy hair.

[gryffvndors]

uncommon alliances: part zero

summary: a prequel to “uncommon alliances”. a look into the relationships between the younger twin weasleys, harry and ginny, hermione and ron, and the trio of pureblood slytherin girls that take a chance on a gryffindor.

word count: ~5800

a/n: okay i told everyone i would post this so here it is. the prequel, nearly 6000 words worth of… is this a character study? relationship study? idk man i just had fun writing this. keep in mind most of this was written before the actual “uncommon alliances”. it’s pretty much just snapshots of scenes between the reader and her old and new friends alike, as well as a teeny bit of foreshadowing to her relationship with draco. (if ppl want, i’ll probably write more weasley!reader x draco) it’s okay if you don’t read it (it’s so dreadfully long), i pretty much just posted it for myself because it made me happy to write. thanks for reading and supporting!

part one

The second you enter the Gryffindor common room, you immediately want to gouge your own eyes out. There, bodies strewn across the couch, limbs splayed haphazardly, lays your brother and his girlfriend, intensely and oh-so passionately making out.

“Ah!” You scream, dropping your bag to cover your face. “My eyes! My virgin eyes! Oh, Merlin, I think I might throw up-”

Ron practically throws Lavender off of him. She lets out a shriek before picking herself up and shooting you a dirty look. You blink a long, hard blink. Is she… actually mad at you for interrupting her snogging session with your brother? You raise your brows and give her what your friends ominously call “The Look”. She takes a step back, glare wiped off her face. Yeah. Yeah, that’s right.

Ron sits up, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “Uh…”

“I…” You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Forget it, Ronald,” you pick your bag back up and push past Lavender, trekking up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. You open the door to your room. Hermione is reading on her bed, flat on her back with the book bewitched to hover above her face. You watch as she murmurs an incantation, and the page turns.

You linger in the doorway for a moment before clearing your throat and saying her name.

The girl jumps. The book continues to levitate, regardless of her broken concentration. When she sits up, it travels with her until she picks it up out of the air and sets it gently on the bed. “Hello,” Hermione says, breathless. “You scared me.”

You snort, heading over to your own bed. “I’ve been scaring a lot of people today,” you say, sitting on the edge of the mattress so you can face her. “Honestly, why would you snog in the common room, where anybody could walk in?” You groan, flopping down to stare at the ceiling. “He better be grateful that it was me who walked in, and not Ginny. Ginny would’ve hexed the life out of him right then and there.”

“If you ask her to, I’m sure she won’t mind,” Hermione points out.

You shrug, “Maybe. Actually, yeah, you’re right. I just… don’t feel like it at the moment. Good Merlin, I will never be able to get that image out of my mind,” you shudder. When Hermione doesn’t say anything, you flip over so you can see her whilst laying on your stomach. She’s staring at the floor, a seemingly sad expression on her face. Your heart drops. “Aw, ‘Mione,” you frown. “It’s okay. They won’t last long.”

Hermione huffs. “I’m not-” she furiously wipes at her eyes. “I’m fine. Honest. I don’t care about Ron and his stupid… girlfriend,” she gets off the bed and smiles, taking a deep breath. “I am going to dinner.”

Is it that time already? You glance at the clock on the wall. Apparently it is. Okay. You roll off the bed, landing in a heap on the floor. Hermione laughs. Wordlessly, you pull yourself to your feet, cheeks burning.

“That,” you point at your friend, “did not happen.”

She only hums, a smirk making its way across her face. You follow her out the door, through the hall, and down the stairs. Lavender is nowhere to be seen. Ron, on the other hand, is. He’s slumped over on the couch looking miserable. At your entry, he jumps to his feet.

“Hey, I-”

“Save it, Ronald,” you snap, stopping in front of him. Despite you being twins, you aren’t all that similar aside from the typical Weasley characteristics: red hair, freckles, pale skin. You and Ginny are very similar stature-wise; petite and short, you take after your mother in the height department. On the contrary, Ron is lanky, all long limbs and gentle giant-esque. You have to crane your neck to make eye contact with him. Despite this, and your natural unthreatening composure, his expression is one of pure fear as you reach up, grabbing the collar of his shirt to yank him down to your level. You continue with, “If I ever catch you like that again, snogging any girl so violently in the common room, of all places, not only will I hex you, but I will enlist Ginny and, depending on the circumstance, Hermione, to hex you as well. And if you are caught doing anything worse in the common room,” you shove him so he falls back onto the sofa, “I will personally see to it that mum sends you a vicious howler which will read loudly and in detail in the Great Hall.”

Ron gulps. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he nods and whispers a ‘Y-yes ma’am’, eyes full of fear.

“Good,” you clear your throat, then smile sweetly. “Now, Hermione and I are going to dinner. If you are coming, then let’s go. If not, then goodbye.”

“I’m coming,” he says quickly, getting up to trail after you and Hermione. As the portrait swings open, you glance over at Hermione to see her snickering like mad.

“That was absolutely brilliant,” she laughs, making you beam.

“Thank you, thank you! I do indeed try my hardest. It’s a tough job, keeping the Weasleys in line, but somebody’s gotta do it!”

Behind you, Ron mutters, “Bossed around by my little sister. Rubbish.”

You spin around, walking backwards. “We’re twins!” You exclaim.

“I’m three minutes older than you!”

“That doesn’t-” you groan, turning back around. “That doesn’t make a difference, Ronald!”

He mumbles something else, incoherent. You roll your eyes.

As soon as you make it near the Great Hall, you’re approached by an all-too familiar, tall figure. Draco Malfoy, in all of his Slytherin glory, glares down at you. “Granger. Weasleys,” he spits out, sneering. “Get out of my way.”

You give him The Look; crossing your arms, you fully stop in your tracks, reaching over to stop Hermione, too. “I’m sorry, what was that? You want us to move?”

Malfoy falters; there’s a moment’s hesitation before he clears his throat. “Am I imagining things, or did I not just say that, Weasley? Out of my way.”

“Oi, Malfoy! Don’t talk to my sister like that!” Ron pushes you and Hermione to the side so he can get up in Malfoy’s face. He’s definitely got a few inches on the blond, but Malfoy doesn’t seem to mind. He looks up to your brother with ease.

“I’ll talk to her any way that I please, Weasel,” Malfoy snarls. He makes eye contact with you and says, “You see, this is the problem with blood traitors like you. Disrespectful, unpoised, filth.”

You lunge forward. Hermione grabs you by the arms, holding you back. You wrestle away from her, shouting something other than words. Really, you just yell, reaching for your wand. Before you can, though, somebody else runs up beside you. Your head whips around. Harry is glaring at Malfoy, knuckles clutching his wand so hard they’re turning white.

“Step away, Malfoy,” Harry says quietly. “Or I will hex you.”

Malfoy only scoffs. “Oh, I’m scared, Potter. Hear me tremble?” He rolls his eyes. “Fine. We will continue this later. Move, Granger,” Malfoy shoves past Hermione, walking quickly away from the Hall. You watch him as he leaves.

Ron grumbles, “Bloody hell, I hate him. He’s a git! It’s rubbish. He shouldn’t even be allowed here at school.”

“Well, thank you for stepping in, Harry,” Hermione frowns. “Nearly dueling in the Great Hall. Dumbledore’d have a fit if he saw,” she sighs. The three of you stare at her. After a second, she admits, “Well, he did deserve it. God, I want to punch him again.”

You grin, then, and throw an arm over Hermione’s shoulders. “There’s the Hermione we know and love,” you start walking into the Hall again. “Brilliant, that was. I’m still not over that.”

“It did feel good,” she sighs, wistful.

Before you turn the corner, you glance behind you again. Malfoy is nowhere to be seen; you’re relieved, slightly, but also uneasy. You shake off the feeling and focus on your friends.

“Harry,” you burst into laughter once you sit down in your respective seats, “you’ll never believe what I walked in on today! It was terrible, I nearly vomited!”

“Oh, great, I’d love to hear what it is,” he says drily. You lean over to flick him in the head. “Hey! I said I’d like to hear it!”

“Don’t sass me, Potter!”

“Don’t flick him,” Ginny sits down next to Harry and arches a brow. “I won’t allow you to. Only I can flick him.”

“My own sister-!” You hold a hand to your heart, feigning hurt.

Across from you, Ron mumbles, “Now you know how it feels.”

“Ronald!”

“What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this?” You stare at the ball of fur in your hand. It’s bright blue, fuzzy, and squeaking. You get the sudden urge to chuck it across the room like a quaffle. When you voice that, Ginny launches herself to your side so she can cover the ball with her own hands.

“It’s a pygmy puff!” She exclaims. “Don’t throw him!”

“It’s a him?” You stare at the pygmy puff in your hand, swatting away Ginny’s. “Wait, don’t Fred and George have these at their shop?”

“That’s where I got him from,” explains Ginny, backing away. “Fred and George owled a few over to me when I told them how Crookshanks got ahold of Arnold,” she glares viciously at Hermione with the cat in her lap.

“I’m really sorry, Ginny,” Hermione sighs.

“Anyway,” Ginny continues, “they sent me extras as a warranty, or something. I only want one, so you can have this one. I gave the other to Luna. She loves pygmy puffs.”

You nod. Using two fingers, you stroke the top of the pygmy puff, right where all the fur is. It squeaks at a very high frequency. You look up, shrugging. “Well, I guess I’ll keep it. Him,” you correct yourself. “I’ll name him Scabbers,” you meet Ron’s gaze from where he’s sitting in an armchair on the other side of the common room, Lavender in his lap. Ron scowls. You smile.

“That’s not funny,” he mumbles.

“I think it’s quite hilarious, actually.”

“Name him something else. I don’t want to think about that stupid rat ever again.”

“Alright, then. Ginny, you want to name him? You’re ever so good at naming things. Eh, Ron, you’ve seen Pigwidgeon lately?”

“Pigwidgeon is a good name-”

Hermione calls your name from where she sits on the sofa next to Harry. He’s giving the cat a weird, almost creeped out look. “Stop bullying your siblings,” she scolds. You roll your eyes.

“Yes, mum,” you scoff, moving to sit next to Hermione. The cat on her lap perks up at the sight of your pygmy puff. As it prowls towards you, you reach over and shove it off the couch. Hermione lets out a noise of surprise. “It was going for my puff,” you whine. “I had to protect him!”

“Name him Puff,” suggests Harry. You stare at him for a moment. He stares back.

“That’s brilliant!” You shout out of the blue. Hermione jumps again. Harry grins towards Ginny, who shakes her head.

“He tried to get me to name mine Puff. I didn’t think anybody would actually take him up on the suggestion,” Ginny huffs, rolling her eyes.

“Looks like I won,” Harry chuckles.

You know about their relationship. Of course you do - Ginny is your sister and, therefore, your best friend. Harry is also one of your best friends. She’s been in love with him since she was eleven - it was bound to happen at some point. You look at Ron. He’s sitting in his chair, Lavender perched on his lap, but is Ron staring adoringly at Lavender? No, he isn’t. He’s looking at Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. Hermione is watching the exchange between Harry and Ginny, oblivious to the way Ron is staring at her. You smirk to yourself. It’s only a matter of time before everything falls into place.

You, on the other hand? You’re alone. Well, not alone, alone - saying that would be selfish. You have your friends and family. Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Neville (who’s with Professor Sprout, looking at some kind of plant that only blooms at night), Luna (probably in the Ravenclaw tower), and others. You aren’t alone. Single, maybe, but not lonely.

Hermione nudges your side with her elbow. She asks softly, “Are you alright?”

You nod. “Yeah,” you swallow. “Never better.”

At a quarter to two, your Transfiguration lesson begins. It’s now one fifty. You’re sprinting down the hallway, robes half hanging off you and bag waving in the air. You clutch your wand in a death grip in one hand, the other combing your hair with your fingers. A Hufflepuff prefect calls as you rush by, “No running in the halls!” You ignore them and keep going.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Normally, this wouldn’t be so bad. Normally, you wouldn’t mind being late. The only problem is that you’ve had that mindset a few too many times, and now you’re in deep water. The last time you were tardy (yesterday), McGonagall said she’d order you a week’s worth of detention, plus twenty house points taken off. You wonder how she could be so cruel to her own house. That woman, while magnificent, has a heart of solid steel when it comes to rules, apparently.

It’s five minutes before two when you finally make it to the classroom. You stop before the door. Quickly, you straighten your bag and robes, and stuff your wand into the inside pocket of them. You flip your head over and gather your hair on top of your head, quickly pulling it into a high ponytail. Then, taking a deep breath, you push the door open.

McGonagall is sitting at her desk while everyone is in pairs. You notice Ron and Harry together, along with Hermione and Neville. You curse inwardly. There isn’t anybody else to work with, you notice. You’re fine to do it by yourself, or even in a group of three. Hermione and Neville’s group is definitely more promising than your brother and Harry’s. As soon as you step inside, the whole room falls silent, all heads turning to you. Everybody seems to remember the scene that was yesterday.

“Miss Weasley,” McGonagall frowns, rising to her feet. “Late, again?”

“Oh, professor, I have an excuse,” you breathe. “Please don’t give me detention.”

McGonagall’s eyebrows raise. “An excuse? By all means, let’s hear it.”

Swallowing, you nod. You glance around the room. This year, Gryffindor has Transfiguration with Slytherin. You see Malfoy’s gang smirking to your left. You begin with, “Well, you see, last night I was awake writing an entire essay. Snape assigned us four feet of a scroll and I had to have it completed by today. Well, I was far too busy with other assignments, like… Divination,” you pause awkwardly. “Anyway, so it was ten at night. I was in bed, ready to wake up bright and early for class the next day-”

“Is there a point to this rambling, Miss Weasley?” McGonagall sighs.

“Y-yes! Yes, there is. It was ten at night and I remembered I have this massive essay due the next day. I have to keep my grades up, professor, especially for Snape, you know that! So I went out to the common room and got to work. It took me literally all night - I was just finishing when dawn was breaking. So I got about half an hour of sleep, then went to breakfast. After my morning classes, I decided to skip lunch and take a nap because I was falling asleep in Herbology, ma’am, and you know that is never a good idea. So I went to take a nap and asked my dear brother to wake me up when it was time for Transfiguration.” You turn to glare at Ron. Ron’s entire face flushes a bright red.

“As you can obviously see,” you continue, “I was not awoken. When I did wake up, I was already late for your class. So, professor, I understand if I get detention. Really, I do-”

“How noble of you,” remarks McGonagall, to the amusement of a couple Slytherins.

“-but I think that Ron deserves a detention just as much as I do, if not more.”

“Hey!” Ron jumps to his feet. He points at you, stammering, “You - you can’t do that, professor, I don’t deserve a detention! She should not have trusted me in the first place!”

“Oh, excuse me for trusting my own brother with a simple task,” you glower, crossing your arms. “Please, professor-”

“I’ve heard enough of this story, Miss Weasley,” McGonagall peers over her glasses at Ron. “And do be quiet, Mr. Weasley, you are not getting detention today. Though, a good life lesson for all of you - if somebody entrusts you with something, whether it be a task or an item, it is best to go through with their wishes.

“That being said, Miss Weasley, your brother is correct. You should not have entrusted him with that task in the first place, as he is just as incompetent as you when it comes to the subject of punctuality. You, for the time being, are the culprit. I will not give you a week’s worth of detention like I said yesterday, but you will have to answer to me tonight. Be here after your last class, Miss Weasley, and I will pardon the rest of your detentions and the house points. Now, please find a group to join, as we are desperately wasting class time.”

“Oh, thank you professor, I feel like hugging you-”

“That will not be necessary.”

You nod. “Right, right,” and rush to join Hermione and Neville. Shortly after you join, everybody goes back to work. “Hello, pals,” you beam. “Rather nice day, isn’t it?”

“You are too much,” Hermione sighs, shaking her head.

“Yeah, yeah. Trust me, I know.”

After your final class ends, you quickly pack up your things and sling your bag over your shoulder. Ron looks at you for a second before asking, “Where are you rushing off to?”

“Detention with McGonagall. Remember, Ronnie?” You wave to your friends. “I’ll see you later. Would one of you mind sneaking some food back to the common room for me?”

After Harry volunteers, you give thanks and leave the room. You make it to McGonagall’s room just after another figure does. You’re about a hundred feet down the hall when they pull open the door and enter, letting the door shut on its own. Who could that be, you wonder? You quicken your pace.

Inside the room, there’s only McGonagall and the other person, who you deem a girl. As soon as you step in, the girl turns, revealing her identity. Your stomach drops; it’s Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin in your year. Not only does she hang out with Malfoy, she’s Malfoy’s right hand… woman?

You let out a tiny, almost inaudible groan. Mentally preparing yourself, you stand up taller. You make your way to the front of the room. Gingerly, you take a seat next to Parkinson.

“Now that you are both here, I will give you the instructions for your detention tonight,” McGonagall clears her throat and laces her fingers in front of her. “You two will be checking textbooks for me. I have a stack of books I must go through to give to next year’s first years. You will be making sure they are in good condition; no bad writing on them, no torn out pages. Once you have finished checking all of them, you will put them in stacks in my office. Then you will be dismissed,” she nods to the other side of the room. “I will be in my office, grading your essays that were due yesterday. You may begin.”

You look behind you. There’s two very large stacks of thick textbooks - you wrinkle your nose, remembering when you, as a first year, had to read that. ‘Introduction to Transfiguration’. Terrible. Of course, Hermione loved it. ‘An easy read!’ She’d boasted.

You sigh, climbing out of the chair. Parkinson does the same, following you to the back, where you both sit cross-legged on the ground. You wait until the door to McGonagall’s office shuts before turning to Parkinson.

“So what are you here for?” You smirk, accioing a textbook. Parkinson narrows her eyes, huffing.

“You reckon I would tell you, Weasley? I don’t associate with blood traitors.”

You shrug. The novelty of that term has long gone, leaving it pretty much useless against your feelings. It’s just another silly insult. Sometimes you call your siblings blood traitors just to mess around with them. Well, some of them - you have a few in mind that would not appreciate the joke at all.

“Suit yourself,” you hum, flipping through the pages. “Although, I don’t know about you, but I would certainly like to have at least one civil conversation throughout this long, laborious night…”

Parkinson doesn’t answer. You shrug. Once your book has been cleared, you put it off to the side and summon another one off the top of your stack. When you’re on your third, Parkinson starts her second. Your fourth, her third, et cetera.

Maybe an hour and a half (of complete silence, might you add) into the night, you’ve only exhausted about half of your stack. You wonder why there are so many textbooks in the first place. There definitely won’t be that many first years. You think there might be more textbooks here than students in the entire school.

When you say this out loud, instead of ignoring you, like you expected, she shakes her head. “Hogwarts used to have a lot more students than it does now,” she said. “Everyone who is our age - in school right now - was born either during or directly after the first war. There are not that many parents who want to have children during a war, and directly after, most everyone is too scared to start families. That’s why our generation is so small.” You stare at her. She senses the lull in conversation and looks up. When she sees you staring, she rolls her eyes. “What?” She asks. “I know things, too.”

“Obviously,” you say. “That’s the first time you’ve ever been nice to me.”

Parkinson scowls. “Don’t get used to it, Weasley, I was only setting you straight.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Sure, you were.”

“I’ll be rude to you again, you blood-traitor.”

“Parkinson has a soft side, Parkinson has a soft side…” You sing in a stage-whisper. Parkinson blushes.

“I do not!”

You send the textbook you just finished onto the pile of completed ones, grabbing the new one out of the air. “Who would’ve thought Pansy ‘Pureblood’ Parkinson would ever be nice to a blood-traitor Weasley like little old me?”

“I don’t know. I get irritated just seeing your ugly, bright orange hair,” she mutters.

“At least I didn’t have an ugly bob with an arse parting in third year.”

Parkinson gasps, hand flying to her hair. “Merlin! An arse parting? I parted it down the middle!”

“And you should not have,” you muse, letting a small grin form. Parkinson sees the grin and groans.

“I was thirteen,” she whines. “And it’s better now!”

You nod. It definitely is.

By the time you finish the books, it’s dark outside. McGonagall sends the two of you straight to the common rooms. You walk most of the way together, until it’s time for you to split up so she can go down to the dungeons and you can go up to the Fat Lady.

“Well, I guess it’s time for us to be enemies again,” you frown, squinting towards the staircase you have to climb. Beside you, she sighs, rolling her eyes.

“I guess we don’t have to be, like, total enemies,” she admits. “Not friends-”

“Definitely not friends,” you agree.

“-but maybe, I don’t know, acquaintances?”

You nod slowly. “I think acquaintances will work,” you stick out your hand. “Truce?”

She shakes it, and then actually says your first name. “Truce.”

You beam, saluting as you walk away. “See you later, Pansy.”

Reaching out to pick up a shard from the broken plate, you stumble forward and wince as your hand is sliced by the sharp piece of glass. You cry out, retreating. You sit on your heels and examine the wound.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione sit on the sofa behind you. Ron is chatting with Harry about the next Quidditch game (over an agitated Hermione’s head, might you add), and Hermione is reading a book. You whip around, bloody hand extended. “Ron! Look! My hand!”

Ron waves you off, discussing a way Harry could find the snitch quicker so he can beat Malfoy. You unleash a heavy sigh and clamber to your knees. You do an awkward knee walk across the common room, right to Ron’s side. “Ronald, look, I’m wounded-”

“I don’t care,” he pushes you. “I’m talking to Harry-”

“Oh, you’re not a seeker, Ronald,” you scowl, thrusting your hand in front of his eyes. “You’ll do no good, Harry’s the best seeker in centuries. Ron, I said I’m bleeding-”

Ron finally tears away from the conversation and faces you. “Blimey, I said I don’t care about your - oh, bloody hell, that looks bad…” Ron then grabs your wrist and looks closer at the cut. You smirk victoriously. Next to him, Hermione stretches her body to see what’s going on. Ron meets your gaze. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to Pomfrey? That looks really bad-”

“Oh, Weasleys-” Hermione moans, standing up. She points her wand at your hand and says, “Episkey.” The wound closes, blood clearing away. You and Ron alike gasp, slack-jawed.

“Thanks, Hermione!”

“Yeah, thanks, Hermione-” Ron stares at her, awestruck.

Hermione flushes. “It was nothing,” she says. “And why didn’t you clean up that mess with magic? At least fix the broken plate! Reparo.” The plate’s pieces mend together, creating a spotless, blemishless plate.

“Hermione, you’re a true goddess,” you sigh, wistful. “I love you, Hermione.”

“Yes, well…” she returns to her book, tucking her wand away behind her. “Do try to remember basic spells next time, both of you.”

The invitation to Hogsmeade is more of a surprise than anything, ever. You hold the piece of parchment in your hand, flippantly stroking Pigwidgeon with two fingers while you read. With every word, your eyebrows get higher.

Ron leans over Harry to try to read the note. You hold it close to your chest, reaching out and slapping his arm. The sound brings Hermione and Ginny to attention; the girls watch you scold your brother.

“This is my note, Ronald,” you scowl. “It is none of your business what it says.”

“Bu-” Ron protests through a mouthful of whatever is in his mouth, “I wan’ uh see-”

“No, Ron!”

“Is it a love letter?” Ginny grins, leaning her head on her fists. You roll your eyes, stuffing the parchment in your inner robes pocket, where your wand is.

“And who would send me a love letter, Ginevra?” You smirk, getting up. “I’m going. I have… matters to attend to.”

As you stroll out of the hall, Ron swallows and calls, “What kind of things are you doing? You have no friends other than us!”

Maybe not now, you think, but soon. Once you’re out of the Great Hall, you take out the parchment and read it over again, this time away from prying eyes.

Weasley-

Some of the Slytherin girls and I are going to gather at Hogsmeade this Saturday. We have talked it over, and I have decided you are welcome to join us.

It will be me, Daphne Greengrass, and Millicent Bulstrode, along with any other Slytherin girl who wants to join.

If you decide to come, we will see you there. If not, you won’t be missed.

Sincerely,

Pansy Parkinson

You find yourself snorting, shaking your head. Oh, Pansy - it reeks of her sense of humor. ‘You won’t be missed.’ You know she actually wants you there, this is just her way of pretending like she doesn’t care.

Oh, why not? It’s not like you were planning on doing anything productive at Hogsmeade, anyway, except preventing your brother from convincing Harry to buy out the entire candy store, or book shopping with Hermione, or maybe looking at Quidditch stuff with Ginny.

…The first one seems necessary, middle dreadful, and the last one quite fun. Still, though, you decide to go. Maybe you’ll have fun.

Pansy and the two other Slytherins are already seated when you arrive. At your entrance, Pansy stands up. You notice the corners of her mouth twitch, like she’s preventing a smile. Daphne Greengrass - a pretty blonde with startling green eyes, much like Harry’s - sends you a warm smile, while Millicent Bulstrode, a tall, skinny witch with long dark hair and dark eyes, looks you up and down, unimpressed.

You ignore the latter and reciprocate Daphne Greengrass’ welcome.

“Hullo, Pansy, Greengrass, Bulstrode,” you nod to each of them in turn. “Can I sit?”

You go around the table, to the other side. It’s the three of them on one bench, you on the other; you ignore the electrifying tension and awkwardness hanging in the air and instead kill time flagging down the innkeeper, Madame Rosmerta. She’s a friend of your mum’s, so she comes immediately, greeting you with a hug. You order a butterbeer and, when Rosmerta scurries away, turn back to the watchful Slytherins.

“Well,” you swallow, mouth dry, “it’s a bit cold outside.”

Pansy snorts into her mug. “A bit,” she snarks. “I nearly froze my arse off on the way here.”

“I keep telling you to get a better cloak, Pansy,” Greengrass sighs. She meets your gaze and shakes her head in pity. “Hers is so ancient, I’ll wager her great-grandmum bought it.”

“She did,” Pansy says. “It’s a family heirloom. I can’t get rid of it, my mum will murder me.”

“You don’t have to get rid of it, Pansy,” exclaims the blonde, “just pack it away and get a new, less worn-out one! I have an amazing tailor, she’s based in France.” Greengrass turns to you and raises her eyebrows. “Do you have a tailor? I can recommend one based in England, if you’d like.”

You scoff. Before you can respond, Bulstrode is already there, biting back, “She’s a Weasley. The only tailor she has is her mum and a pair of needles.”

The other two girls stare at Bulstrode in astonishment, and a little bit of shock. Greengrass glances at you like she expects you to be horribly offended. All you do is laugh; Bulstrode eyes you, wary. You can practically see the gears in her head turning, trying to figure out what is so funny. She just insulted your family, after all.

“She’s right, though that was a bit… tactless,” you smile. “We can’t afford a tailor, though that’s terribly kind of you, Greengrass.”

“Oh, please, call me Daphne, I hate being referred to by my surname.”

“Daphne, then,” you steal a look at the other girl, the one who’s still being rude. She’s staring anywhere but you, it seems. You suppress a shrug; she’ll warm up soon enough. They always do. If you can get Pansy Parkinson to warm up to you, you can get anyone.

Madame Rosmerta comes back with your mug of butterbeer. You pass her a few sickles. When she tries to give you back the change, you refuse, protesting until she finally leaves with a grateful smile. You take a sip of the butterbeer and let the warm caramel soothe your throat. It relaxes you immediately, your muscles loosening and melting into the bench.

“Merlin, I fucking love this drink,” you breathe. “The only thing I like better than this is firewhiskey - but Rosmerta knows my mum, she’d never get me any. Not ‘til I’m seventeen, anyway.”

Daphne perks up. “I love firewhiskey!” She beams. “And Rosmerta won’t let any Hogwarts student have any, my older brother tried ordering some a few years back when he was seventeen. The place to go for that is Hog’s Head. The barkeep there doesn’t give a shite about age. Well, not if you look around seventeen. He won’t give it to a third year.”

You let a smirk spread on your features. “Maybe we should go on an adventure there, see if he’ll hand some over. Reckon he will?”

Bulstrode finally looks interested. She tries to hide it, but you see right through her. “I… wouldn’t oppose to that,” she says slowly.

You exchange sly looks with the rest of the girls. “Well, let’s give it a go.”

Hours later, you’re back at the same table, new mugs of warm butterbeer in front of you. Your stomach is warm, cheeks flush - you’re by no means drunk - your brother’d have a field day if he found you wasted. You’ve just had a glass or two, enough to loosen you up more than the butterbeer ever would. The alcohol content found in butterbeer is too low to affect humans. The other girls are laughing at something you’ve said. You can’t really remember it now - some fleeting comment about something unimportant, surely - but the fact that they’re laughing is good enough for you. You’re beaming, a wide smile spread across your face, splitting it in two.

“You’re funny, Weasley,” Bulstrode says finally, sighing. “I guess I don’t have a problem with you. You’re different from the other Gryffindors.”

You don’t care to explain that, really, you’re exactly like the other Gryffindors - they just haven’t given them a chance. This war, this rivalry, between the red and green house is tiring. Surely, if everyone just sat down and talked it out, they’d see that both houses are alike and have their positive qualities - they’re both brave, but Gryffindors in an impulsive, brash way, while Slytherins just want to prove everybody wrong. A Gryffindor will jump off a cliff because they like the thrill of it, the rush of the wind in their ears, the plummeting of their stomachs. Slytherins will jump off a cliff because somebody bet that they wouldn’t, or couldn’t, do it. They’re… prideful.

You don’t voice this, of course. It’s useless to do so. These Slytherins are so set in their ways, it will take a generation or two before change really starts to happen. Instead, all you say is, “Thanks, Bulstrode.”

You see her hesitate. After a tentative pause, she mutters, “Just… call me Millicent. Millie’s fine, too.”

You let yourself smile wider. “Thanks, Millie.”