#even though I know that failing out of school over it won’t help anybody

[idkhowtopickausername]

I think it’s true that educational institutions are not set up to support people with ADHD and other forms of disabilities and I would never judge someone else for failing out of college but it’s still hard for me to apply that to myself when I feel like it’s still true that I could be trying harder and if I were a better person I would just force myself to focus, and I don’t feel like I have no control over it because sometimes I have been able to do that. And even with extensions I don’t turn things in on time these days, I feel like I need time pressure to have any hope of getting things done so I don’t know what kind of accommodation would even help at this point

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love pt 4 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one Part two Part three Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part Nine Part Ten Part 11 Part 12

Chapter Four

Steve POV

1978

Steve carves his way across Lover’s Lake with an energetic front crawl. Okay, he’s got to admit—it’s a bit bigger than he judged.

He’s getting tired, though he can still make it. After all, he’s eleven years old, and the best swimmer in his grade. He reckons he could beat half the kids in the High School swim squad. What’s a puny lake to Steve Harrington?

The waters grow thick and deadly heavy. Soon, his arms flounder and his legs splash uselessly. He glances up to figure how far the bank is, mistimes his stroke, gulps a mouthful of water.

He chokes, swallows, discovers he’s no clue in which direction he should go. He swipes wet hair from his eyes and realizes he can’t see his parents. Can’t see anybody. Yeah, he’d deliberately swum off to prove his father wrong, because he’d said Steve couldn’t cross the lake, but… Oh crap!

He sinks, pulls upward with all he’s got left, and bursts through the surface, screaming: “Dad! Mom! Dad? I’m… lost… Heeeelp!” His legs have gone weak, and he doesn’t know what to do with his arms, whether to wave them or try to swim or… “Mommy? Da-ad? Daddy!”

His final efforts fail, and the dark waters suck him deep, closing seamlessly above his head.

1986

The scary dreams fade to nothingness, and Steve begins to wake. His head aches, and his bat bites manage to throb, itch and burn all at once. He opens his eyes, with a weary sense of having been through all this before, far too many times.

However, he isn’t in his parents’ living room, which is the last thing he remembers. He’s not a clue where he is. It looks like some dingy log cabin, and a stale tobacco stench catches in his throat. Robin’s nowhere to be seen, which alarms him further. Eddie paces the creaking floor, flexing and cracking his fingers.

“Eddie?”

Eddie’s hand flies to his chest. Then that electric smile that Steve’s getting way too fond of returns: “Hey, big boy. How ya doing?”

“Oh, never better.” Steve coughs. He doesn’t even try to rise from the lumpy old camp bed he’s lying on. “My body feels like goddamn heavy metal… and, uh, not the sort you dig.”

“Seen bodies I like less, Harrington.” Eddie smirks then cringes; Steve’s not gotten a clue how to read that. “Look, you've been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours.” He grabs a bottle of water. “You have to drink. Or we’re gonna have to get you to a doctor, and Buckley’s gonna ride my ass.”

“I’ll give it a shot.” Trouble is, Steve knows that Eddie will have to help, and it’s dead awkward. He does his best to sit, while Eddie plumps the pillows and helps support him. Eddie’s hair gets everywhere, way worse than Steve’s. Then Steve’s hand trembles so bad, Eddie has to guide the bottle to his lips. Even then, half the water dribbles down Steve’s chin, and it barely wets his parched lips. After a couple of slurps, his stomach performs an unpleasant flip. “Had enough, man.”

“Ooookay. We’ll try again later, huh?”

“Yeah, if you want me to vomit all over your… Hey, is that my Hugo Boss t-shirt?”

“Don’t worry, Harrington. It’ll look waaay better when I daub it with the sacred Hellfire Club logo.”

Steve’s beyond caring about that kinda stuff. What he really wants to say, but won’t, is that it looks great on Eddie. The short sleeves afford sizzling glimpses of Eddie’s tats.

Christ, get over it, Harrington.

He concentrates on what Eddie is telling him. Turns out, the three of them have escaped Hawkins, though not travelled far: “We’re in a deserted cabin, about twenty miles out. Robin can cycle back and get into radio contact with Dustin and the others, which is where she is now. They can sort out supplies, give us updates. It’s still total chaos in town, which has bought us time.”

“You need to keep moving, man,” murmurs Steve. “I know I said don’t go without me, but… Jesus, I’m slowing you down.”

Eddie gives a casual shrug. “Nah. We can wait for ya, Stevie.”

Stevie?!?

Steve snorts with laughter, then he sinks again fast. He’s so stupidly tired. God knows how long passes before Robin’s voice revives him. “Steve? Steve! Try to wake up. Please?”

He does. For her. His eyes are watery, and it takes a moment to focus. Then he sees her eyes are watery, pink-ish too. “Rob? W-What’s wrong?”

“Thank God, you’re back.” She leans close, attempts a clumsy approximation of a hug. When she pulls away, she unleashes way too many words for him to cope with. Dustin has updated her on tons. Max is hurt, and it’s really bad, and then she talks about Hopper. 

Hopper’s alive?

Steve raises a shaky hand to veil his eyes. “Hey, slow down. Max is gonna be okay, right?”

He peeps between his fingers. The look that passes between Robin and Eddie all but chokes him. He disguises a sniffle beneath another cough.

“Hop’s coming back, and that’s good news, right?” says Robin. “Maybe he can get you two off the hook. Although, right now, I believe we’re among the missing, presumed dead. Yay?” She underlines her false cheer with a tremulous smile. That’s when Steve notices the baggy yellow top she’s wearing:

“Hey, that top is mine! You’re both wearing my clothes?”

Eddie leans coolly against the wall. “Badge of ownership, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Steve. “Who owns whose ass?”

Eddie grins and… was that a twitch of his eyelid or a wink?!? Either way, it dizzies Steve. “Whichever way round you want, baby,” says Eddie.

“Ooookay.” Robin giggles, sounding as jittery as Steve feels. “Uh, Steve. We should probably check your bandages.”

He’s genuinely relieved when Eddie wanders off. He lifts his t-shirt and hisses as she pries the dressing from his scabbed blood. “Is it bad?”

“You’re not all stinky and septic, nor leaking Upside Down black goop, so… No, I’d say good. Does it hurt much?”

“Not as bad as it did.”

“You still seem a bit fever-y.” She gingerly drifts the back of her hand across his brow. “Not so gross and sticky as you were, though.”

“Lucky for you,” he snarks. He actually finds feeling so sick and weak far more intolerable than the pain. It reminds him of when he travelled with his parents, when he was much younger. And when he always got sick. A splash of ice bites deep. “Ow!”

Robin assaults him with an antiseptic spray.  “Sorry!”

“Don’t go into medicine, Rob.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Uh, Steve. One question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you ask us to leave town via Lover’s Lake?”

“Wha—” Steve blinks. His brain strains to retrieve whatever the hell she’s talking about and draws a blank. “I have zero memory of saying that. I mean, why the heck would I?”

“Oookay. You were probably raving.” That nervous laugh returns. “You sure you’re sure you’ve no idea?”

He blinks at her again. He really hasn’t.

He’s always loved swimming in Lover’s Lake. Then again, he likes swimming pretty much everywhere, particularly in open water. It gives him a rush, a sense of control that’s proven so difficult to grasp in pretty much every other area of his life. Okay, there was that one time he nearly drowned in Lover's Lake as a kid. Even that didn’t put him off for long. In fact, it fired him to get stronger, better, to learn lifesaving and CPR.

Robin’s brows are raised, as if she expects some bombshell revelation. “What do you want me to say?” he answers. “I haven’t a goddamn clue.”

She lets it drop. He fears he hasn’t heard the last of whatever’s bugging her. Perhaps, despite her protestations otherwise, she’s still fretting about rabies. “Hey, Eddie,” she yells, “stop skulking and come and help, will you?”

Robin and Eddie finish patching him up, and Steve struggles not to whimper like a candy-ass wuss. Then, as he feels too crappy to sleep, his mood plummets even lower. He can’t stop thinking about Max, and how he’d failed to save her. Maybe if he’d been there, he could’ve found a way, like he did when he saved Eddie?

That he was otherwise occupied feels like an excuse. He should’ve protected the kids better, and… Ugh, he detests being THIS DAMN PATHETIC, a total wimpezoid. He despises being seen like this, even by Robin, and she’s seen him brought low before, when they were captured by the Soviets. Plus, she’s his best friend. Steve Harrington is the big guy, the protector. Without that…

…I’m nothing. Eddie Munson’s gonna see that pretty quick. Uh… Why the Hell should I care so much about that?

His miserable thoughts drain him. He tries curling onto his good side, just as Robin comes at him with a bowl of cereal. “Get lost,” he mutters, and finally drifts back to a sick-feeling sleep.

Later, when he awakes, the fuss remains excruciating. Eddie props him up on more pillows and tucks up the blankets. Robin menaces him with the cereal again, and this time, he chokes down a few mouthfuls. Eddie checks Steve’s wounds, and wipes him down with a cloth, dabbing his scarred torso, hands and face.

Steve refuses to look Eddie in the eye, and chews his lip ragged. He waits till Robin goes outside then asks the question that is literally gonna kill him: “Eddie, I need the bathroom.”

“Oh.” Eddie palpably tenses. “Uh, pretty sure I saw a bucket somewhere.”

Steve groans. “Isn’t there plumbing inside this dump?”

“Noooot as such. There’s literally a brick shithouse outside. Reckon you can make it?”

“Sure,” says Steve, trying to sound casual rather than terrified he’s absolutely not gonna make it.

He manages to sit, and then Eddie helps him to his feet. They start off, with Steve leaning heavily against Eddie. To be fair, it goes better than expected. Steve’s dizzy and slightly nauseous, but the cereal stays down. While his legs are basically jello, they don’t give out completely.

Not until the way back, at any rate.

One of his knees buckles beneath his weight, and he flops into Eddie. He winds up clinging around Eddie’s neck, one foot sliding as if on ice, and staring up into Eddie’s dark, soulful eyes. Losing himself in them, like they’d drugged him or something; even giggling, and wondering fleetingly if that fizzle of attraction might still be real, despite his wretched state.

“I gotcha, Stevie.” 

Stevie… again?

The pulsing veins on Eddie’s face betray his strain in keeping Steve from falling. He’s also wearing a faintly amused smile, which touches Steve somewhere tender and deep.

But Eddie’s laughing at him, not with him, right? “Bet I’m hilarious,” mumbles Steve. “I guess with no TV you get your kicks where you can.”

“I don’t watch much TV,” says Eddie, placid enough. “Sure miss my Ghetto Blaster.”

“There was one in my room. If you were dumb enough not to bag it, that’s your loss.”

While bitching, Steve finds his footing again. Eddie helps him back toward the camp bed.  When, finally, Steve’s butt lands heavily on it, he’s still hugging around Eddie’s neck, so he tugs Eddie down with him. He slithers his arms free and shivers. He actually wishes he could keep clinging rather than go back to lying alone, feeling horrible. Christ, he’s hopeless.

He rolls to face the wall. Eddie pokes him. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” snaps Steve, the heat of his temper warming him. “I made it to the outhouse and back, didn’t I? If you two morons quit stalling, we can get moving again right away.”

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part Ten Part Twelve

...

tags: estrellami1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

[dollslayer]

Champagne Problems

Bartender!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise appearance at your sister's wedding you find help from an unexpected source.

W/C: 4,642

Warnings: NO MINORS, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hey! I know it's been a minute (sorry), I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie's writing challenge using the bartender au! If you like this please reblog and comment and check out my other fics!! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You sighed internally before slapping on a smile for yet another group picture. Your bridesmaid dress was itchy and you already regretted spending the entire night in it, as the reception was just starting. But it was your sister’s day and you decided that if what she really wanted was for you to wear this itchy monstrosity to honor her wedding then damn it, you’d do it. So you leaned in close with the rest of the wedding party and posed some more.

When the photographer had finished with his photos you were ushered to the family table and wedged between your mother and your aunt. You mentally cursed your sister for seating you with them because they were going to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone while simultaneously lamenting that you’d dumped your boyfriend of 4 years just a month earlier. Your mother wanted grandchildren so badly, you didn’t know why she couldn’t just settle to get them from your sister.

“Sweetheart, you and Steve were so good together though! Remember when he surprised you at Christmas with that puppy? I don’t know how you let a man like that go…” Your mom chided.

You grabbed the attention of a passing server and grabbed the champagne off their tray. If you were going to have this conversation again you needed liquid courage to do so. You downed it in three sips and your mom scoffed at you.

“Mom, we've been over this. I didn’t ask him to do that, we agreed we weren’t ready for a dog. Ugh, oh my god, anyways, we just didn’t work together. Sometimes things don’t work out, Mom. You’ll still get grandkids, just not from me.” You patted her on the shoulder but she just pursed her lips and looked past you to your aunt.

You wanted nothing more than to get wasted but you couldn’t do that to your sister. You wouldn’t get blackout drunk, but you were definitely getting drunk tonight. The reception was being held in a hotel and the wedding party had a block of rooms reserved so it’s not like you had to drive. You just had one thing to do before you did that.

The moment you’d been dreading had finally arrived, the toast. You held your freshly topped-off glass of champagne and brought your fork to it to get everyone’s attention. Someone handed you the mic and you hesitated before taking it and nervously cleared your throat.

By what you assumed could only be the grace of God you managed to deliver the perfect toast about finding the right person and soulmates and anything else you might find in a hallmark card with only minor stumbles. Everyone clapped and your brother-in-law wiped a stray tear and everyone finally dug into dinner. You just hoped that would mean your mother would be quiet about Steve for the next 20 minutes and then you could escape to the open bar.

____

You almost made it through dinner scott-free and sat back to watch your sister’s first dance. Just when you thought you were in the clear it was your aunt that threw a wrench in your plans. She was three glasses of wine deep and had that glassy look in her eye when she grabbed your elbow and pulled you closer. She spoke to you in a low voice while trying not to fumble her words.

“Listen kiddo, I know your mom is hard on you about Stevie but she just wants what’s best for you. What you two had… it was so good even I liked him! I don’t like anybody y’know that. So.. so why don’t you jus’ give ‘im another chance, make your mom happy? Couldn’t be that bad, could it? Maybe he’ll even… surprise you”

You mentally blocked out her words halfway through her speech, hoping neither of you would remember it by the end of the night. Right now you just had to get her to stop so you could get away from the table. You didn’t think you could take one more second of being shamed for leaving Steve.

You smiled sweetly and nodded in understanding towards her words.

“I know, Aunt Linda. I know. Sometimes things happen, I love mom but I’ll find someone else.”

With that you patted her on the shoulder and took off in search of the bar.

There were two bars and you wanted to go to the less crowded one. Looking around you had spotted it just past the dancefloor and made a beeline. Weaving through the now open dance floor and escaping the invitations to join your family you finally made it and leaned heavily against the countertop with a sigh.

“Rough night?” Your eyes follow the gruff yet amused voice and find that it belongs to a very handsome man with a defined jaw, clear blue eyes, and long hair that was tied back.

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“You don’t know that half of it. Nothing like a wedding to remind you how single you are” You joked.

“Ah. Yeah, that’ll do it. That’s rough. You look like you need a drink, what can I get you?”

“Dealer’s choice. Just no vodka.” You requested.

He smirked and nodded, perusing the lines of bottles that were in front of him. He bit his lip as he concentrated on what to make and you tried not to stare. You watched him get to work on your drink and couldn’t help but notice the way you could see his muscles move underneath his dress shirt.

He turned back around and proudly presented you with something fizzy in a highball glass.

“My own concoction, I even used the non-watered down liquor. Just for you” He says with a wink.

You try your best to hide your shy smile and accept the drink.

“Thank you, how sweet of you.” You tell him.

“It’s nothin’. So how’s a gal like you single? If you don’t mind my asking. Seems pretty impossible to me.”

You're caught somewhere between flattery and embarrassment and just hope it doesn't show on your face. You take a long sip of your drink and gear up to answer him.

“Well, I just got out of a 4 year relationship, actually. He’s really sweet but he always had a tendency to steamroll my needs and just do whatever he was going to do. Eventually that shit adds up.” You sigh.

“Like for example - last year we had talked about getting a dog and I said I wasn’t ready, we’re just both way too busy and then on Christmas day he shows up with this puppy! And then I’m the villain for telling him no! The puppy ended up going to a good home but he did stuff like that all the time. It just became too much. Anyways now my mom won’t get off my ass about leaving him.” You shook your head.

“A puppy? Wow, that’s… intense. That’s a lot, I’m sorry. You finish that drink and I’ll pour us both a shot” He laughed.

You nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the cocktail. He held up two shot glasses and extended one to you.

“A toast, to… wait. I don’t even know your name!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed and he answered you.

“I’m James but you can call me Bucky” You made a face at that.

“What kinda name is Bucky?” You asked before giving him your own name.

“Whatever, I’ve got two shots of tequila, you want one or not?” How could you say no?

“A toast,” You continued, “To you and your weird name, Bucky.”

He laughed and you clinked your glasses together, then against the counter before downing them in one go. You tried your best not to make a face and looked up at Bucky to find him extending you the lime chaser, which you took gratefully.

“Hoo… I could use like, 3 more of those to get through tonight. So, how’d you get into bartending?”

“I needed somethin’ to put me through school and I figured this beats stripping. Though, with some of the customers we get sometimes I’m not so sure”

You laughed at that and Bucky went on to tell you anecdotes of all the crazy people he’s had to serve, disastrous weddings, and the time he got a lapdance from the bride herself. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed but you were enjoying talking to him, forgetting your mission to be drunk.

The two of you kept swapping stories and were getting to know each other a bit more. He let you vent about Steve and just listened, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not be told what it is that you should be wanting. When you pictured the night you didn’t picture yourself confiding in the bartender tonight but if you were honest you were enjoying yourself. It beat awkwardly dancing with your family and enduring more disappointed remarks from your family.

You had hoped you could hide out at the bar and spend the entire night unscathed when the double doors to the ballroom opened. Your heartbeat in your ears as time slowed down around you as a blond head of hair made its way through the archway. Your laughter died in your throat when Baby blue eyes found you across the room and you froze like a deer in headlights. No. Nononononono this isn’t happening.

Time has somehow come to a halt while simultaneously hurtling forward since you can’t get yourself unstuck from this moment yet fail to realize that Steve is now standing right in front of you. His hair is swept back perfectly and he flashes you that million dollar smile of his that shows off his dimples perfectly. You scold yourself for checking him out but damn did he always clean up nice.

“Hey, sweetheart” he says shyly, as if he’s not crashing your sister’s wedding to get with you.

“What…? What are you doing… here?” You ask quietly, trying to avoid a scene.

Before he can answer you your mom comes up behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders tight, all with a big, bright smile on her face. Of course. How did I not see this coming?

“You made it!” She exclaimed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Of course, sorry to have missed the ceremony but there’s still plenty to celebrate, right?” He asked with his signature boyish smirk.

Shock was still in full effect on your features as you stood stock still. But that shock was soon giving way to anger as you slowly pieced together everything that was happening. Your mom had brought back Steve to try and get you back together and Steve was steamrolling you again.

“I… I, can’t. I can’t-” You started

“Sweetheart, how many of those have you had? You need some water.” Steve motions to the drink in your hand and you feel the anger running through your veins about to take over. You have to move this out of the room. Now.

“Why don’t we move this to the hall?” You suggested quietly.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started moving towards the exit but you did spare one last panicked glance towards Bucky. He looked confused and his brows were quirked in a way that made him look upset, almost. You sent him a pleading look before turning back around and preparing yourself to deal with this shitshow that had slowly unfolded before you.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. You got this. Your hand begins to push the door open when Steve’s much larger one covers yours and gets the job done. An action that you once would’ve thought was sweet, one that you would’ve made you swoon, even, is currently pissing you off.

You two made your way to the hallway and you looked around before you started in on him.

“Okay, what the hell, Rogers? Crashing my sister’s wedding? Really?! I don’t give a shit if my mom put you up to this I-”

“Sweetheart, please. She thought you might be having second thoughts and maybe us seeing each other would… patch things up. We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart” Steve attempted to console you, reaching out to try and rub your arm but you pulled back.

“No! I am so sick of you running me over! You never listened to me or what I had to say and this is exactly why I broke up with you, Steve! You’re being so fucki-”

“Hey, babe, everything okay out here?” Bucky’s voice surprised you but not as much as his lips pressing a kiss into your hair and his arms wrapping around your waist.

You had to crane your neck to look back and up at him. It took all of two seconds for you to piece together what you’d hoped was the truth. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as if to say “come on” and in all your desperation you went with it. You supposed that his formal uniform made him pass for a regular guest.

“I, ah, yeah, yes. Steve here was just leaving, right?” You asked him.

Steve raised his eyebrows in a stunned expression, mouth slightly open in disbelief. His hand reached out towards your shoulder but Bucky pulled you back gently.

“Doll, are you serious? Who even is this guy? Does your mom know about this?”

“No, she doesn’t. It’s… new…” You told him.

“Right,” Bucky cuts in, “It’s new so we weren’t telling anyone just yet but she figured I should at least be here for the reception”

“Seriously?” Steve scoffs, “Man bun? What does he have that I don’t? C’mon, you know what you and I have is real.”

“What you and I have is over, Steve. You never listened to me, always pushed me further than I was ready for. We’re done, it’s over. I’m sorry for whatever Mom told you”

Steve took a harsh breath inwards and you watched him try to decide whether he should walk away or blow up. Based off of the veins popping in his forehead, he was opting to blow up.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to but-”

“She said it’s over, punk. Move along” Bucky cut in. He took a protective step in front of you and pushed his shoulders back, squaring up to Steve. Steve seethed quietly and you two exchanged very tense glances.

“I’m telling your mother about this. I doubt she’ll be happy to hear you brought some random person to your sister’s wedding.” Steve spat.

He walked past the two of you and bumped shoulders harshly with Bucky. Bucky’s jaw tensed and his grip on your waist tightened but he didn’t retaliate. Instead he took a step back to get a proper look at you.

“You okay?”

“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but you looked like you could really use the help.”

“Well… thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” You laughed to yourself a little and added, “We’re not even together 5 minutes and you already have all my emotional baggage”

Bucky laughed at that and shook his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve got some crazy exes too. So what now? You going back in?”

You became a little flustered at that but moved past it with a sheepish grin.

“No,” You shook your head, “I think it’s best for everyone if I just go up to my room and avoid a whole scene.”

“Well at least let me walk you up. I wouldn’t put it past that creep to follow you.”

“What about the bar?”

“We’re overstaffed and the party’s winding down anyways. They’ll get on without me”

“Alright then” You accepted and started off towards the elevators.

You two were standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to close when you spotted the doors to the ballroom open. Your mother was looking around, her face a picture of anger. Lucky for you the doors closed before she could look in your direction and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You know as far as fake boyfriends go I’d say you’re pretty good”

“Just good? C’mon I had that guy on the ropes.”

“Yeah alright,” You relented with a grin.

You exited the elevator car and made your way down the hallway until finally you reached your door. You fished your keycard out of your wallet and turned to Bucky.

“Hey… do you wanna… maybe come in? Hang out? I know you’ve got work but if you’re overstaffed maybe…” You trailed off. There was a beat of silence and you felt regret instantly, thinking you’ve asked too much of him. “Y’know what nevermind, you don’t have to, I’m sorry I-”

“I’d love to hang out with you, if you’re okay with that. Plus it’s probably better I wait to get back until the wedding’s over. Can’t really show my face as your boyfriend and then get back behind the bar, can I?” He said with a soft smile.

“Suppose you’re right,” You swiped the card and cracked open the door.

You stepped inside and felt like you could finally breathe again. You kicked off your heels and went to turn on the lights. You reached back to get the zipper of your dress but couldn’t quite get there.

“Will you get my zipper?” You asked Bucky. He nodded and came closer to you.

You could feel his warmth radiating from him when he was this close. Your nostrils filled with the heady scent of his aftershave. He smells so good. He unzipped you halfway and left the rest for you.

You thanked him and grabbed your change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Relieved to finally be free of the itchy monstrosity of a bridesmaids dress you sighed and put on a tank top and pair of shorts. You realized the tank top showed a little more of your cleavage than intended but you shrugged it off and exited the bathroom.

Bucky’s eyes landed on you and he took a sharp breath in but tried to play it cool. It half worked, you caught him staring a little bit and giggled to yourself. When you looked at him again he was undoing his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Wonder what he’d look like if he unbuttoned just a few more… You stopped yourself in that line of thinking and joined him on the couch.

“I think your phone’s gonna zap itself into an early grave with the way it’s been going off” Bucky said as he pointed to your phone on the table.

You picked it up to find you had several missed calls from your mother, one from Steve, and one very long text message from him that was already inducing a headache. You opened it, forgetting you had read receipts on. Oops. You weren’t going to read this now in front of Bucky, so you shut it off and put it aside.

“So how are you feelin’?” He asked.

“Better now that I’m out that damned dress. As for my family, they'll get over themselves. I don’t know why who I’m dating is such a big deal to them anyways.”

“You do look more comfy now that you’ve changed. If you don’t mind me sayin’ you’re just as gorgeous now as you were all dolled up”

You felt heat flood your cheeks instantly and eked out a thank you. You and Bucky talked for an hour more or so and in that time you’d found yourself nodding off with your head on his chest. On instinct he brought your whole body closer to him and put his arm around you. If you were less sleepy you’d be embarrassed but right now you didn’t care.

Bucky had moved slightly and inadvertently jolted you awake. You shot up and realized that you’d cuddled your way into Bucky’s side and now the embarrassment was catching up with you. You instantly scooted back to give him some space.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t mean to cuddle you” You said while avoiding his gaze.

You felt a hand on your thigh and finally looked up to find him smirking at you.

“I didn’t mind it. It’s getting late though, I should get back.”

You were slightly disappointed but nodded your head. You rose and followed him to the door. He went for the handle but turned around when you grabbed his hand. He stepped away from the door and was in your personal space. You looked up at him with a shaky breath.

“Thank you, again, for what you did. It was really sweet of you.” He smiled down at you and brought one hand to your face. Oh God, I didn’t prepare for this. Your heart was beating just a little harder as you looked into his clear blue eyes.

“For you? Anytime. I had a really fun time with you tonight.”

“Me too.”

With that his other hand came up to cup your face and he kissed you sweetly. It wasn’t until you kissed him back that he pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t wanna make you uncomf-”

You grabbed him by the shirt collar and brought him in for another kiss. This time more demanding but just as sweet. He let out a small moan and you swear you could’ve melted. His tongue explored your mouth while his hands moved their way down your body and brought you even closer to him. You could feel that he was hard and it only made you want him more.

Without breaking the kiss you started to move backwards towards the bed until finally you were just at the edge of it. You broke apart for air and searched his eyes only to find his pupils blown wide in lust. You cupped him through his pants and he groaned. He was big. Maybe even bigger than Steve.

“We don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to do,” He breathed out. You shook your head and kissed him again.

“I want you, I’m sure.” You panted out.

“I don’t have a condom”

“Doesn’ matter, I’m on the pill” You told him. With that his hands were up your tank top and you’d helped him to remove it. He worked on his shirt next and while he fumbled with the buttons you took off the rest of your clothing.

Bucky was every bit as devastating as you’d thought he’d be and you let out a genuine sigh. His toned muscles rippled throughout his arms and torso and you watched him remove his boxers and you’re not entirely sure your jaw hadn’t dropped. He noticed you gawking and chuckled as he leaned down to join you on the bed.

“See somethin’ you like?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer though, he pushed you backwards onto the bed and kissed you again, this time trailing his kisses all the way down your body. He stopped and took his time to admire each of your breasts, licking and biting your nipples. You’d gasped in surprise and pleasure. He moved his way down finally to your pussy and looked up at you.

“Can I? You could only nod and let out a shaky breath as you sat up on your elbows and watched him get to work. He kissed and caressed your thighs until finally his fingers were prodding at your entrance. He groaned at how wet you were and pushed two fingers in. You let out an obscene moan and your hands went into his locks. His tongue lapped at your clit before he sucked on it, all the while pumping his fingers in and out of you in search of your G-spot.

You’d pulled his hair out of his bun and guided his tongue where he needed to be. Finally getting the right angle you were whimpering in pleasure, back arched almost to a point of pain. He’d finally found the spot he’d been looking for and your eyes shut closed in pleasure.

“Please,” you begged, “Please don’t stop I’m so close”

You pushed his head harder against you and his fingers sped up. It was only a matter of moments until your toes were curling in pleasure and you writhed on the bed in the aftershock of your orgasm. Bucky continued to lap away at you until you pushed him off. He came back up to eye level with you and had a wolfish grin.

“Who knew you’d make such noises? God it was so hot”

You pulled him in for another kiss and reached down to grab his cock. You pumped it a few times before you moved down to return the favor when he stopped you. You looked up at him with brows pinched in concern.

“Don’ worry about me, I just wanna feel you”

He moved you beneath him and you spread your legs apart for him. You were still sensitive in your post-high when his tip brushed your clit but you didn’t mind the bolt of pleasure. He aligned himself with your entrance and looked you in the eye as he pushed all the way inside of you slowly. You let out an involuntary moan, trying to accommodate his full length.

“You good?” He asked.

“I’m good, you’re just...big” He smirked at that.

“Can I move or do you need a second?”

“No, you can move, please move.”

One hand on your hip and the other on your breast he started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You swore you could feel every bump and ridge of him with every inch he put into you. His pace picked up and he kissed the column of your neck, finding the one spot that drove you crazy. Your small mewls turned to full moans and he began fucking you harder.

“‘M not gonna last much longer” He told you. You didn’t say anything in response, just brought him in for another kiss and grabbed a handful of his ass to push him further inside you. He chuckled at that and took the hint.

He was going the hardest he had so far and you were holding on for dear life and loving every minute of it. His panting breaths were heavy in your ears and you reached down to toy with your clit so you’d cum together. His thrusts were getting a little sloppier and your hand moved faster, quickly approaching both your peaks. He let out an almost pornographic moan as he came, He fucked you through his orgasm and not a moment later you came for a second time. Your bodies melded together as you rode out the last waves of each other’s orgasms.

Finally Bucky stopped and held himself with one hand, trying to catch his breath. You were slightly dazed, trying to compute how your night had ended up like this. Bucky rolled over onto the bed and you felt the mess between your thighs. You looked over to him with a hazy smile.

“So, I know we’re doin’ things a little backwards here but, maybe I could take you out some time? If you want?”

Your smile grew even wider and your heart felt so light in this moment.

“I’d like that”

You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold or how to even begin cleaning up the mess with your family. You’d deal with it all in the morning, for now you’d just bask in the afterglow with your fake boyfriend and be grateful for chance meetings.

[drakenlvr]

tokyo revengers guys in school

characters εїз mikey, baji

note εїз not proofread (surprised? me neither), gn!reader

warning εїз none, crack / hcs idk tbh

mikey

we know he’s not a great student, but that doesn't go to say his grades are bad

he definitely sleeps most of the time in class

if you happen to be in the same class as him it's concerning the first couple of times you see the way he falls asleep

like he'll be staring out of the window, thinking about something and then suddenly his head just drops, he's kocked out

dead asleep, not that anybody else seems surprised though

guess that’s normal for him.

Draken has to bring him food or Mikey gets pouty

Draken or Mitsuya will finally get him to write something in class, because of the one strict teacher that threatened to fail him

once he gets to writting, trying his hardest not to fall asleep, his handwritting is incredibly messy

his notes never make sense, not even to him

he'd probably start writing on one page, get distracted and draw a cat, move on to the next page, write two sentences, but then he remembers that on the page from last class there was still some space left he’d return to it

often times leaves the test room first, because believe it or not without much trying he would probably be good at math (he’s adaptable and incredibly smart so).

but to get him to actually study is a total pain in the ass

at the end of the day he performs best in gym class so him and the gym teacher are strangely close (maybe he reminds him of his grandpa)

often times both sit together watching what the others are doing and discussing something

Mikey often times joins in to show off play with the other

if you two become closer he’ll drop you off with his bike in front of your house

the first time you were scared of how your family would react, because a literal gang leader dropped you off on a motorcycle in front of your home

and if you get away with it, you’ll have to make sure to scold Mikey for making you panic for no reason

when he’s bored he’d also make you go out to eat with him

the first time he invited you was when y’all were in class and you had to decline multiple times for him to get to understand that y’all were in class

but then when it gets to lunch, he’d just grab you by the wrist and drag you to go eat with him and Draken

i guess now you’re helping Draken babysit Mikey

oh well !

baji

just like Mikey he’s not a great student and we know he’s been held back once, but ever since then he’s changed

he felt awful for disappointing his mother and he promised her that he won’t fail ever again

now ever since meeting Chifuyu and becoming close his grades have improved drastically

and although he’s still not top of the class, they are definitely not terrible

however Baji in the classroom, is completely different to the first devision captain of Toman that we know

he always wears his glasses when reading so he can see the board better, his hair is always perfectly slicked back to prevent it from it getting in his way

everyone in the class couldn’t believe that somebody like him would get held back

as everything in school was going normally, a rumor started going around

a rumor that there’s a dangerous gang member in class

allegedly he had beat up 50 people in two minutes and laughed it off after

so now everybody’s was looking at each other wondering who could it be, but Baji was at the bottom of the suspects list

that is until one day Mikey decided to happily open the door and call over Baji for something incredibly important

that was when everyone in class where left with their jaws hanging open since the Manjiro Sano picked up one of their classmates

guess they figured out who the gang member was

(the important thing was that Mikey got hungry mid class, so he just assumed Baji would agree and he did)

his favorite class, no doubt, is also gym class

he just loves anything to do with that class, football / soccer, volleyball, basketball, running

anything you can think of - he loves it

and although he knows his power, sometimes he gets a little bit careless

like that one time in 5th grade when he broke another guy’s finger by kicking a ball into it

nowadays though there hasn’t been such accidents, except a few smaller ones

if you were to be in the same class as Baji you would probably think he’s a nerd

but the teacher made you sit together

at least he wasn’t going to be loud and annoying during class, what more could u ask for?

that is until one day you stumbled upon him beating up the people that were bothering Chifuyu

next day comes around and you had so many questions for him and as soon as class started you just had to ask him

so he answered a couple, but then shushed you so he could listen to what the teacher was saying

he wasn’t rude about it, so you took it and kept quiet

once school ended he was waiting for you in front of the school and offered if you’d like to finish all of your questions

and he sent you home, still conversing about him and the gang

congratulations, now you have a friend who is a well - respected gang member

m.list

[pwarkluv]

❝ idk you yet ❞ - p.js

park jisung x reader | angsty, fluff | 1.6k words 

WARNINGS | TW: mentions blood, abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, smoking, lowercase au, non-idol au, high school au, badboy!jisung, mature language/cursing, reader is like an angel sent from heaven for him, jisungie just in need of love :(

SUMMARY | being an outcast has him wondering if he’ll ever be happy. cue you, the new girl, stumbling into his life (literally).

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “idk you yet” by alexander23! also AHHH this is my 100 followers special fic :) THANK U LOVES FOR 100 IM SO SHOCKED CJSBFKEJD <33 the writing is a little crappy because i’m currently on my period and my patience for sitting down and writing this went down halfway through lol but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ENJOY THIS JISUNG FIC BC JISUNG MY BABIE AND SO ARE YOU GUYS!

whenever anybody thinks of park jisung, they think of the chains and dark clothing he wears. they think about the faint smell of smoke and men’s cologne that follows him wherever he goes. 

they think of the boy who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. 

but what they don’t think about are bruises on his face he fails to hide whenever he walks into school, the dejected look on his face whenever random people give him disapproving looks, the way his smile slowly faded into a permanent frown wherever he went. 

jisung quickly accepted his reputation at school and in their little town, not having enough energy to feel insecure about it like before.

the only group of people that even remotely cared about the boy were his best friends in the whole entire world, nct dream.

they were outcasts just like him, the most “fucked up group of boys” in their town (the people’s words, not theirs).

see, they were your typical bad boy group straight out of your typical fanfic. bad grades, smoking in their free time, getting into fights, always being late to class; not a single person had hope in them.

but behind their scary and intimidating facade, all seven boys were big softies with misunderstood hearts and difficult backgrounds.

people were just too dense to look into it, only judging them based on their looks and personality on the outside. 

❝ how can you miss someone you’ve never met ❞

love was a foreign thing to jisung, the only form of love he’s ever felt being from his friends. his parents were… interesting to say the least. 

jisung’s father was a hard-core alcoholic, his mother being a major druggie. with no siblings in the house, jisung was usually their main target to push around and beat up.

and so because of this at a young age jisung learned to distance himself from other people and found different ways to release stress.

he started smoking when he was 14, the warm and hazy feeling of the smoke entering his lungs comforting him.

if jisung humored himself enough, maybe smoking could count as his first love. it was always there for him, never leaving him alone even if he wanted to quit. 

he relied on it knowing it was the only constant in his life. 

now of course the boy has heard of proper love, love like in the movies or shitty romance songs he hears on the radio.

and he won’t lie, there were moments he thought about what it felt like to be in love. but he knew that would never happen, at least not in their small town anyways. 

he just wanted to be loved. 

jisung would never admit it but sometimes he’d be jealous of the old couples walking down the street in their own world like it was just them two against the universe. he was jealous of the happy kids running around, their mother’s and father’s fondly smiling at their child. he was jealous of all the “normal” kids in his neighborhood. 

jisung wanted that, craved that. 

but most importantly, the boy wanted love.

❝ cause i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

everything hurt. 

his head, his body, his mind, his heart; everything was in pain.

jisung walked down the empty streets of their city, a trail of blood following behind him as he accepted his fate. the boy was 99% sure he had a concussion and at the very least had a few broken ribs. 

he felt like this was the end, and he was ready.

-

wandering aimlessly around town, you decided to take a late night walk to familiarize yourself around the area. you had just moved into the city a week ago, spending all seven days trying to help your family unpack and rearrange your cozy new home. 

now that you were finally free of the smell of tape and the dust of the boxes, you decided it was best to get to know the place you were living in. 

the autumn air seemed to settle at night as you shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket of some sort. the sight of a convenience store up ahead of you brought you relief as you rummaged through your pockets wondering if you had enough money for ramen.

your steps became excited as you found a couple dollars, fondly thinking about what type of ramen you should buy. you became so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice the poor boy who was staggering in front of you, or the trail of blood he left behind. 

-

jisung pushed himself to reach the convenience store a couple feet away from him, in desperate need of supplies to at least try and fix himself. 

if it didn’t help in any way then oh well, maybe death was indeed an option. 

grinding his teeth though the pain, he did not expect to feel a small body bump into him. had he been at his regular health, jisung would’ve easily been able to keep still but because of how much blood he was losing the boy was knocked down like a bowling pin.

“holy fuck.” jisung cursed the feeling of the concrete floor colliding with his ribs. he didn’t even notice the girl who had bumped into him sitting on the floor dumbfounded, freaking out over his state.

“oh my fucking god.” the girl said, capturing his attention. jisung glared at the stranger, mentally acknowledging the fact she was pretty. 

but her being pretty won’t get you anywhere, he scolded himself. she’ll leave you just like everyone else.

“a-are you okay?” she said, eyes glancing at his black eye. jisung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “does it look like i’m okay?” he replied, his deep voice catching the girl off guard. 

“just, fuck off.” jisung said closing his eyes as he laid back down on the floor, knowing he couldn’t force himself to get up anymore. he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know she left, hearing the sound of her footsteps walk away.

the boy sighed as he laid idly on the floor, wondering what sin he committed to lead him to where he is now. not even she wanted to stay, the tears threatening to fall as his thoughts buried him alive.

“why can’t i just die?” jisung said out loud, asking no one but himself.

“because i won’t let you.” a voice replied as jisung forced himself to sit up in confusion. it was the same girl he had bumped into, but this time she had a first aid kit with her. he gave her a lost look despite knowing what she was here to do. 

jisung’s mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that a total stranger would even bother to help him. 

“now sit up.” she said softly as she bent down to open the box, the boy slowly followed her instructions. “i’m sorry this might sting.” she said though jisung didn’t mind because she was much prettier up close.

-

the next ten minutes were you trying to fix his wounds against the shitty chairs outside the convenience store.

jisung didn’t even bother mentioning his broken ribs, not wanting you to freak out. you cleaned up what you could and the boy was beyond grateful for that.

you subconsciously rubbed his back in a comforting way whenever you’d apply alcohol to his open wounds, trying to ease the sting. you held his hand for him to hold and though he was a big boy and had a high pain tolerance, he still gave it a squeeze just to keep your hand there.  what the actual fuck is this feeling, jisung asked himself as he watched your determined figure work on him.

it was cold and in order to better work on his wounds, the boy offered to give you his hoodie which strangely had no traces of blood on it. you gladly accepted, the faint smell of blood and his cologne engulfing you up. 

the sight of you in something so big and so him made his chest swell in pride.

jisung couldn’t even formulate a sentence as you cursed at the time once you finished patching him up, fleeing the scene before he could say anything with a small smile, his hoodie still on. 

❝ and can you find me soon because i’m in my head ❞

the thought of your soft hands on his, your voice, your whole presence; everything about you couldn’t seem to leave the poor boy’s mind. it was now monday, and waiting for his class to start already made him want to go home.

if only i got her name, jisung daydreamed with his head resting on the palm of his hand. the classroom was loud and bright, people occasionally giving him looks but the boy didn’t mind. 

“jisungie~ did you hear we have a new kid?” jaemin asked, poking the boy’s cheeks. the boy only gave him a pointed look before sighing. 

“hyung i don’t really care.” jisung replied, looking back out the window. 

jaemin only gave him an offended look before grumbling a bit. “i don’t know maybe you will.” he muttered under his breath as their teacher walked into the room. 

❝ yeah i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

their homeroom teacher stood in front of the class, jisung tuning out his voice. the boy once again sighed as his teacher called for their attention, explaining they had a new girl in their class. “now make her feel welcomed,” he said before turning towards the door.

“y/n, please come in.” the teacher said and jisung almost fell out of his seat when he saw you walking through the door with the same smile you gave him a couple days ago.

“hi i’m y/n and i hope we can get along.” you bowed to the class, a familiar hoodie you were wearing catching his attention. 

isn’t that mine, jisung thought to himself as he bit back a smile knowing you kept it all along. 

[comicaurora]

Waaaaiiit you grew up an undiagnosed neurodivergent? I feel like I should have a tom of questions because I've recently begun to wonder if I'm neurodivergent too, but I can't articulate my questions at all. So I guess what I'm asking is, what was that like? How were you diagnosed? What's the story behind that? Are you comfortable sharing your experiences with growing up "undiagnosed neurodivergent?"

Big, big caveat that I have not been diagnosed with anything. Smaller caveat that it's looking about 98% likely that I'm very ADHD, which would certainly help explain

"she's very bright, if she would just focus more in class and be less disruptive she'd be perfect" on every single report card I ever got

I'm listening, I promise, I'm just not looking at you, and if you make me look at you I won't be able to keep listening

if I cannot doodle in class I will Die

did I miss the day where they passed out a handbook of social rules

nah coffee doesn't wake me up or disrupt my sleep schedule at all, if anything it makes it easier for me to focus, guess I'm just weird that way

I've finally finished the thing I was working on and I just realized I've been sitting cross-legged for six hours without moving, I'm hungry, everything hurts and I really need to pee

why do I feel so weird and bad AH yes I have forgotten to eat

didn't I make tea sometime in the last four hours

hey wanna hear me talk about the media that's been consuming my every waking thought yea you do here goes

there's a car a block and a half away whose brakes are squeaking so I didn't hear anything you just said

I tried doing the assignment you asked for but it was so boring I wanted to melt so I did this cooler thing instead can I still get a good grade

I already know how to play this music, this is boring, I'm going to play it twice as fast so I'll be done quicker and wait for the rest of the band to catch up, because that is how music works

"oh yea that person hated you for years for some reason, they talked about it all the time, you really didn't know?" no but thanks for letting me know I guess

what do you mean I have to put both my feet on the floor when I sit in a chair, do you want me to die

hey wanna hear some cool space facts yea you do here goes

I'm ten years old in a class of less than twenty people and I don't understand why a solid dozen of those people won't stop making fun of everything I do and say but I've at least figured out I have no way to make them stop so I'm going to try leaning into being proud of being weird even though I'm not really proud I just feel dumb and confused and alone but I can at least pretend I have some control over this situation because I'm receiving zero support because the school administration doesn't know how to address bullying that doesn't involve physical violence and I can't work up the nerve to even be angry at most of these guys even though anger would make things so much easier to emotionally handle because when they're not making fun of me they're friendly and fun to be around and that's really all I want from them and I don't want to push them away when they're being friendly to me because then they might start just being terrible and I'll be even more isolated and I don't even realize I'm scraping along emotional rock bottom for years until

I'm fourteen years old in a new school where I don't know anybody but nobody thinks of me as the designated bullying magnet and people actually act like they like me and think I'm new and interesting and fun to talk to and invite me into friend groups and social gatherings and the things that made me weird and hurt before are what's making me interesting and fun here and I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never does so

I'm seventeen years old at a high school class retreat and I'm clumsily trying to explain to the rest of my grade how much they've done for me just by being kind and I had a plan for what I wanted to say but the minute I got up on the podium it all turned into a blur and I still have no idea what I actually said to them but I hope they got the message

I'm eighteen years old with a close-knit friend group I still can't quite believe is real and I don't think I'll ever be able to explain to them how much they've done for me and I'm really worried we're going to splinter when we split up for college but we don't because sometimes people really do care about each other

I construct a youtube channel specifically designed to let me infodump all my directionless media enthusiasm into carefully-crafted serotonin machines so I can stop boring my friends to tears with them and start inflicting the infodumps on willing audiences that actually seek them out

I very gradually start processing that the fact that my life kinda sucked for several years had nothing to do with my worth as a human being and everything to do with the fact that I was stuck in a bad situation with a lot of other unhappy people, and that things being good now isn't some temporary fluke doomed to fail

I'm twenty years old and I see someone online mention "rejection sensitive dysphoria" for the first time and a whole lot of things about me start making more sense

Everything gets better and I'm happy, well-rested, and not alone

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Three

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: so yeah this isn’t my best work bc i havent been feeling great lately but i hope you guys can stay patient with me until i get my shit together. we’re almost to the end🤞

***

Sitting crammed between Elain and Feyre on the gray couch in Lana’s office, Nesta has to cross her legs prettily and pretend she doesn’t want to peel out of her skin right there. She doesn’t know what she was thinking when she invited her sisters to one of her therapy sessions, but she’s assuming it would be considered rude to kick them out now.

“Who wants to speak first?” Lana’s bob swings as she looks at each of them. The office is ice cold today, and Feyre and Elain’s presence doesn’t help the chill in the air.

Nesta crosses her arms before she can be asked to speak. “No, thank you,” she says. She knows everyone probably expects better from her, but no way in hell is she going to be the first to open up in front of this crowd. “Feyre,” she turns to her youngest sister instead, “why don’t you say something?”

“Actually, why don’t you set the example, Nesta?” Lana gives her a look, making her cheeks redden with irritation.

“Fine,” Nesta grumbles. She clears her throat. “As you can see, I have made moves to reconnect with my sisters. I invited them here because I hoped that therapy would bring us closer and also make them more… tolerable.”

Elain coughs, “Bitch.”

Nesta smiles tightly. “Elain could especially use this, I think.”

Lana is already frowning. She never frowns this early into a session. “We’ll start with an easy question, then. What’s been on your mind lately, Nesta?”

Nesta purses her lips, pretending to think. “Nothing important. I’m looking at jobs for the summer. I think Azriel keeps sneaking money into my purse, and it’s starting to become more than a little condescending. I caught up with some friends from school, and I was polite enough to pay for lunch.” She mentions off to the side to Elain, “Lucien was there, too.”

“Why would I care?” Elain sneers. She spies Lana’s disapproving look and lowers her head demurely. “Sorry,” she murmurs.

“That’s alright,” Lana says. “Why don’t you go next?”

“Me?” Elain’s head snaps up, and Nesta holds in her snicker.

“Start by describing your relationship with Nesta. I heard you two used to be very close.” Lana uncaps her pen, preparing to write.

Elain flushes lightly and folds her hands. “That was when we were children. The only thing keeping us together was that we shared a home. When we stopped living in the same place, some of us had no problem leaving others in the dust.”

“You can use my name,” Nesta rolls her eyes, “I’m right here.”

From the corner of her vision, Feyre cringes.

“Are you saying you feel abandoned by Nesta?” Lana continues probing.

Elain’s answering silence tells more than enough. Therapy must actually be paying off, though, because Nesta only thinks about interrupting and defending herself for a second before shaking it off. Her mind focuses on the word abandonment instead.

Lana is focusing on the same thing, because she leans closer and says, “Being abandoned bothers you?”

“I never said that,” Elain says indignantly.

“It would bother most people.”

Nesta watches Elain sigh and blink her big doe eyes at Lana. She’s always been able to use those eyes on anybody for anything. “I just don’t understand why I’m the villain for expecting a little loyalty,” Elain says sweetly. “Especially when you take a look at this face.” She cups her round cheeks. “You know psychology. How could you abandon this face?”

Nesta’s jaw hangs open. “Are we still talking about me?” She remembers Cassian telling her the story behind Azriel ghosting Elain, and a pang of guilt and pity hits her. She still hasn’t talked with Elain about why Azriel left Velaris, and she knows she won’t be able to decide whether to spare Az or not until she does.

“So that’s my turn,” Elain finishes up. “Feyre can go next.”

Lana is writing something sharply on her notepad, but she nods coolly. “Feyre, how would you describe your relationship with your sisters?”

“Oh, we don’t have time for all of that,” Feyre laughs awkwardly and waves a hand.

Nesta agrees, but the look Lana gives Feyre tells her that yes, they do have time.

Gulping, Feyre glances around. “Well, I was born last, so I guess that made me the outsider of the family. I never had much in common with my sisters, but now that we’re older I… hoped that we would grow past that.”

Translation: she hoped that once she found her happy ending in Rhysand’s arms, poor little Nesta and Elain would happily assimilate into her new community of wealthy friends, putting the cherry on top of her perfect life. And while Elain did that exact thing, it’s always bothered Feyre that Nesta won’t do the same.

Feyre continues, “I admit I’m not the best at understanding Nesta. Elain and I get along fine now, but Nesta…” Feyre meets her eyes. “It’s like nothing we do is enough for her, but for some reason I can’t stop trying.”

“Whose fault is that?” Nesta mutters.

“You want her approval,” Lana hums, taking notes.

“Is that what it is?” Feyre looks away.

Nesta refrains from saying yes, that’s exactly what it is, and it’s not my problem if you keep looking for something I can’t give.

“What are your feelings about that, Nesta?” Lana turns her focus to her. “Remember that this is a safe space.”

It really isn’t, not with two siblings holding long term grudges against Nesta. But once and for all, she’s going to set the record straight. “I spent most of my life being a bad sister.” Nesta’s voice is apathetic, straightforward. “I let Feyre take the burden of providing for us even though I was the oldest, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than cruel to my family. So once I had the means to do so, I cut everyone off for all of our sakes. I still don’t regret it, because being a stranger is better than being a bad sister.”

In that way, Nesta is a bit like her mother. Nesta was angry after her death, but she knows she would have been even angrier if Magdalene Archeron had lived and continued to be a disappointing parent. In that way, both of them are wise for leaving their families when they did.

“Or you could just be a good sister,” Elain interrupts with a drawl.

Nesta smirks bitterly at her. “I’d rather die.”

Feyre takes in a breath. “Why? Why are you like that with us?” She blinks furiously, and Nesta can see the simmer of her emotions. “It was okay when we thought you hated everybody, but you don’t. You only hate me and Elain.”

Nesta looks to Lana for help, but her therapist is sitting this one out. She sighs through her nose. “I don’t hate you,” she says, even though they might never understand. The next line comes with great difficulty. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what love was. But I don’t like you very much, Feyre, and you don’t like me, either. Please stop trying to change that.”

When she finally meets Feyre’s eyes, though, they’re glimmering with tears. “How can I stop trying to change that?” Feyre whispers. “How can I give up on us like that?”

For Nesta to give Feyre and Elain the relationship they want from her would require nothing but lies on her part. And as much as she wishes she was capable of lying about this, she can’t do it.

Looking away and down at her hands, Nesta mutters, “It’s not fun for me either, but it’s how I am. I can’t be easy or friendly with you. I hate watching you try to make me be easy or friendly.”

Nobody says anything to that, but when Nesta looks up again Lana gives her a remote nod that Feyre and Elain don’t catch. Thank you for your vulnerability, it says.

“You said something interesting, Nesta,” Lana breaks the silence. “Did you see your sisters as your responsibility to raise?”

Nesta shrugs. “I was the oldest,” she repeats.

“Your father was the oldest.”

“He wouldn’t do shit even if you held a gun to his head, so I was up next.” Though Nesta hadn’t done shit either. Neither had Elain, but the rules have always been different for her. Elain redeems herself to others by handing out sunny smiles and pretending to have the intelligence of a fawn.

Lana stares at Nesta until Nesta’s skin starts to heat. “What?” she says defensively.

Ignoring the other two women in the room, Lana leans forward. “You told me once early into our relationship that part of the reason you left Tennessee was to get away from your sisters. You said you were heartbroken when they ended up following you here.”

Nesta doesn’t breathe or look to see her sisters’ reactions.

“Now I’m going to ask: did you really want to get away from your sisters, or did you want to escape the feeling of failing them?”

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer, because to her they might as well be the same thing. Having Feyre and Elain around is like having a weight tied to her chest. The lingering guilt every time Feyre is in a room, her existence screaming I’m the reason you’re still alive. Elain’s constant expectations of unconditional support and loyalty, whether it’s reciprocated or not. It’s all so heavy. And it all goes back to the fact that the three of them were once just helpless children.

If she couldn’t take care of her sisters, how is she supposed to take care of any child, ever?

Nesta releases a weary sigh. “You’re going to bring this up the next time we have the baby talk, aren’t you?”

Lana’s eyes sparkle. “Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet.” But Nesta can see from where she sits that her therapist’s notepad is covered in bullet points.

***

“I need to use the bathroom.” Feyre is hopping back and forth on her feet once the session is over. “You guys head down to the parking lot without me.” She exits in a rush, leaving the two sisters alone. Nesta hisses in frustration, nearly chasing after Feyre so she won’t have to face the inevitable awkward conversation with Elain.

By the end of the session, it was Elain that broke and pleaded with Nesta, “Don’t do everything we want, then. Just keep doing better, the way you’ve already been doing. I’ll be happy with just that.”

Nesta was surprised that Elain had even noticed her efforts, but she retorted, “And how do you plan to do better?”

To which Elain twirled her hair and murmured something halfheartedly about, “I might be more open to taking criticism or whatever.”

Though it was the absolute bare minimum, it was still a relief for Nesta to hear Elain admit that she has flaws worth criticizing.

Now, Nesta clutches the straps of her purse and turns for the stairwell leading to the parking lot. Elain follows without comment.

Inside the stairwell, Nesta asks, “Have you spoken to Azriel since he left Velaris?”

Elain looks surprised at the sudden question, and doesn’t remember to be guarded when she answers, “No. Why?”

Nesta shrugs, her heels thumping loudly on the linoleum stairs. “Because I know what happened between you two. I know why he left.”

Elain halts midstep, grabbing Nesta’s arm and turning to face her with wide eyes. “What do you mean, you know? He told you?”

“He told Cassian, and Cassian told me.” Nesta hardly cares that she’s being a poor friend to Azriel by spilling all this to Elain, and continues, “If I had known he was such a coward, I would have kicked him out of our place a long time ago… but I figured I would get your input on it first.”

She’s never seen Elain look so genuinely pleading before. “Get my input on what?” Elain breathes. “What did he say about me? Was it something I did?”

At that torn face that borders on heartbroken, Nesta decides that she’ll do more than kick Azriel out of the cabin. She’ll kick him off the whole mountain.

She shoves Elain’s back to get Elain detached from her and moving down the stairs again, and as they walk, Nesta spills everything she knows. She tells Elain about Rhysand’s talent of shoving his nose into places it doesn’t belong, and how one conversation with him managed to convince Azriel to ditch Elain for good. She tells her about how instead of having a straightforward conversation with Elain, Azriel chose to leave the city and hide out in the mountains like a pussy. She might sound blunt, but Elain needs blunt. She needs to know the unfiltered truth of things.

By the time they reach the floor where their cars are parked, Elain is silent. “Did he really say that?” she finally asks quietly. “He said he wants me to hate him?”

“That’s what I heard.” After a moment, Nesta feels the need to add, “You should hate him, though. He fucked up bad.”

When Elain continues strolling for their cars without replying, concern bites at Nesta. “You are mad at him, right? And mad at Rhysand? You’re not going to forgive them, right?”

“I’m not a total pushover,” Elain snaps. She stares at the cement ground as they walk. “I’m just… more disappointed than anything else. He gave up so easily.” She chuckles without humor. “It sounds like he was looking for an excuse to get away from me.”

Nesta frowns. “I don’t think he would’ve spent so long moping around our house if he wanted to leave you.” Though they can never truly know what Azriel was thinking or feeling until he grows a pair and talks to Elain. Still, she shudders at having to defend him.

“I take it he doesn’t mope anymore?” Elain says.

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer that truthfully. She knows there’s more to Azriel than he lets her and Cassian see, and she knows he’s gotten better at keeping his feelings to himself. So she says, “It looks like he’s doing better, but I really don’t know.” They reach Elain’s car.

“Were you in love with him?” Nesta suddenly asks. Or worse, is she still in love with him?

Elain digs around for her keys in her purse. “You know how I am. Of course I was.”

“Not anymore, though?”

Elain looks up, keys now in hand. “It’s hard to still feel love for someone I haven’t talked to in two months.”

Then it wasn’t real love. Nesta is relieved, even though it doesn’t change the fact that Elain is hurting either way.

Elain jabs her keys at Nesta and says sharply, “Don’t you dare punish him for what he did. That’s for me to decide on.”

Nesta’s brow creases in refusal. “I’ll do what I need to do, and you do you.” She’ll have to be careful with her plotting, though, considering Azriel is Cassian’s brother.

“No.” Elain surprises Nesta with the force in her tone. “He’s your roommate and your friend. Keep treating him like it.”

Elain makes it sound easier than it is, and Nesta wants to argue until she sees Feyre heading down the parking lot toward them. “Fine,” she grumbles halfheartedly.

Elain gives her one final long look, not of threat but something else. “Thank you—for inviting us today.” That’s all she says before getting in the driver’s seat of her little red car. At the same time, Feyre catches up to them.

“Where are you parked?” Feyre pants as she approaches Nesta. She sounds a bit out of breath, like she ran to get here before Nesta could drive off alone.

Nesta points down the lot to where her scrappy old car is waiting for her, and Feyre straightens up with a grim smile. “I’ll walk you.”

Nesta knows that arguing isn’t worth it, so she allows Feyre to trail her the rest of the way to her car. Once they reach the old thing, Nesta gives a curt goodbye and heads straight for the driver’s door. Before she can touch the handle, Feyre attacks her from behind with a hug.

“Get off me, freak!” Nesta tries to jostle her way out of Feyre’s arms. She tries being nice to her sisters one time and this is what she gets—

Feyre only squeezes her tighter. “You don’t have to hug back. Just let me love you my way.”

Nesta squirms for another second before stilling. Swallowing tightly, she stares at the reflection of herself and Feyre in the car door window. One of her hands goes to where Feyre’s hands are clasped around her stomach, and she stands there without moving. She can’t remember the last time she shared affection with a family member like this, but it must have been before their mother died.

The warmth at Nesta’s back doesn’t leave, like Feyre is trying to pour all her understanding into the hug. Silently saying, I’m finally starting to get it.

In a way, Nesta is starting to get it, too. After all, how do sisters with such a complicated history begin to forgive each other?

Not by apologizing, but by doing better in the future.

***

On her way home, Nesta remembers at the last minute to stop by Gwyn’s apartment to pick up one of her sweaters. She doesn’t know when Gwyn started raiding her closet like it was a free mall, but she has a school event next week and doesn’t plan on letting her nicest clothes rot at Gwyn’s forever.

Nesta enters using the key beneath the doormat, knowing Gwyn is at work and won’t mind her stopping by. She scans the living and dining areas for a glimpse of brown cashmere, but only finds scattered books and a disorganized mess. Her fingers twitch with the urge to stop and tidy up the place, but she continues hunting for the sweater. Gwyn promised it would be waiting in plain sight for her.

Realizing the scatter-brained girl probably forgot to put the sweater out for her, Nesta pauses in the hallway leading to Gwyn’s bedroom and bites her lip. She doesn’t know if bedrooms are off limits or not, considering how often Gwyn and Emerie have barged into hers, but she knows she doesn’t want to make a second trip here just for a sweater.

Without giving it further thought, she strides into Gwyn’s room—

And yelps to find Gwyn on the bed.

Except she isn’t alone, and there’s definitely another body under the dark green blanket with her, and whoever it is definitely has their head between her legs.

Nesta spins away at the same time she hears Gwyn’s cry of surprise. She braces one hand against the doorjamb and presses the other to her freezing cold face, not having any words for what she just saw.

“Nesta?” Gwyn calls from behind her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Um, have you seen my sweater? It’s the expensive one.” She’ll just grab it and leave. Or maybe she’ll just leave—yes, that sounds like a good idea.

“Nesta?” a new, deeper voice repeats.

Gwyn hisses, and Nesta freezes because she recognizes that voice. She wants to be wrong so badly, but she has to whirl back around to confirm for herself.

“Azriel?”

***

a/n: i decided to cut this chapter short and add an extra one to flesh out my silly little gwynriel subplot. so if there’s anything specific or random you wanna see happen in the next chapter tell me bc i might have space for prompts!!

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea

[georgiapeach30513]

That’s All I Need

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Summary: Posie is doing online school

Pairings: Posie X Kitten, Ransom X Kitten

Rating: 🥺🥺

Warnings:  mentions of therapy, mentions of forced pregnancy, mentions of depression, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.2K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Papa & Mimi’s Grandbabies

It had been hard for Posie not to go right back to school. And even when she went, it was hard for her to focus. Finding her mind elsewhere, and on her Daisy. Posie spent so much of her time with Daisy. Paranoid when she cried, so she started to rub over her heart, trying to make sure her heartbeats were regular. So sure that her medicine would fail.

Even though Posie trusted her Mimi and Papa with her daughter, when she first started back to school it was only two classes. Between worrying about her daughter, and her brain still at a lag, she struggled in the beginning.

Found her way into her Mimi’s lap more than once crying at the stress, to which she told her no one expected perfection. And then she got more upset when she realized where she was. Begging her grandmother not to say anything to her parents or Jax, “I won’t. But I expect you to talk to Joshua about this. Or someone. Emy. Anybody.”

“You know my sessions with Joshua are more than my brain?”

“Tell me then, sweetheart. What do you talk to Joshie about?” Posie can only shrug. “Oh…S.E.X.”

“Mimi!”

“Oh good grief Posie. Everyone knows you have sex,” she gasps at her grandmother and then giggles. “You have an adorable little girl, she’s proof that you and Jax have sex.”

“I didn’t want everyone to know.”

She looks at her first grandbaby for a moment. She knows how much Posie loves and adores Daisy, but she also remembers how she felt with a forced pregnancy. While Posie’s situation and her own are different. It was still a choice they didn’t get to make.

“You and Jax lived together.”

“But…I have proof. Crying proof. Everyone knows we have sex.”

Kitten blows out a puff of air, and pushes posie’s butt off her lap, still keeping her legs draped over her. “Don’t be such a ninny. There’s nothing wrong with sex. You love Jax?” she gives her a nod and smiles. “That’s what makes yours and his love different. You’re not having sex with anyone else. Because he’s different.”

“This is weird.”

“Fine, jumping on the bed. You talk to Joshie about it.”

“He’s a professional,” Posie giggles. “It’s still awkward. He’s married to Emy. But…he makes me feel safe. Jax likes him to. He helped me feel…comfortable again. Gave us options that wouldn’t, you know move my brain around. But kept us intimate.”

“You talk about more than sex right? Sex, while important, isn’t the most important.”

“Yes, Mimi,” even though Posie rolls her eyes, she leans back to give her grandma a kiss. “Breaks over. I need to go back.”

“Posie, not everything has to be scheduled.”

“I know,” she answers standing up. “It’s who I am. And all these things in my life I can’t control. Getting pregnant, becoming a mom to two kids, my accident, my baby having a heart condition and on medication, my brain depression, my PDD. I can’t control that, but I can control my schedule, and what I want to allot time to and how much.”

“Baby, I get that, but promise me if you’re overwhelmed just come sit in my lap. I’ve been there. Story has been there. You don’t hate your daughter. I promise you I don’t love your mom and Aster any less than the kids I chose to have. Do you think Carter and Story love Otto less?”

“You promise?” Posie asks holding tight to her Mimi. “I’m so scared that if we have another that…it’s like I feel guilty because the next would be planned. And I didn’t want Daisy.”

Kitten leans back to observe her granddaughter. A little girl who was wanted well before her parents knew how to make babies. “Could you imagine life without her?”

“No,” she whispers out in a squeak.

“There ya go. Happy accident. Go back to school. I’m gonna see what Papa and Daisy are up too.”

“Thanks Mimi,” Posie answers before walking into Ransom’s office.

Kitten wanders into the living room where Daisy is crawling all over Chippy and Sprinkles. The two dogs never leaving her side. And Sprinkles would even tap his nose on her chest if she got upset and was crying too much.

As soon as Kitten’s own new puppy catches sight of her, Latte jumps in the floor, walking around her and looking back at the door. “He’s looking for Abel,” at the sound of Latte’s favorite person’s name, his tail wags, and his ears perk up. “See. Get a dog they said. Our dogs don’t love us.”

She plops down on the couch with him, and the little pup jumps to be picked up. “Latte loves me sometimes. He just loves Abie. Look at that beautiful flower,” that chunky little baby giggles at Sprinkles and buries her face in his fluff. “He’s a good dog for her. Almost a natural service dog.”

“He got that heart thing from Posie,” Ransom sighs. With a pat to his leg Latte jumps over to him. Daisy in her constant loop of entertaining herself until she bumps her head. With one sniffle Chippy and Sprinkles both stand up. Chippy paces around while Sprikles nose taps on Daisy’s heart. Leaving the baby to really start crying. Her on hand pressing and holding her chest.

“You’ve got no tears little flower,” Daisy taps her heart again and nods her head when Ransom stands to get her. “You need to stop before you give Chocolate Chippy boy a heart attack. And Sprinkles is gonna nudge you to death.”

Her chubby little fingers make grabby hands towards Ransom and Kitten can’t help but giggle. Her husband always was a big softie. As soon as that baby is in his arms, she immediately stops and both dogs sit down looking up at her.

“You’ve got us all trained don’t you. Papa thinks you may need a nap. Need to sleep? Mimi will cuddle both of us.”

He lays back on the large sectional and looks down at those two good boys. Finding his perfect spot, he lets Daisy get comfortable on his chest, her hand rubbing along his current smooth cheeks. Before Ransom taps on the couch. Both those giant dogs jump up there and crawl over to him. Even trying to squeeze in between him and his wife. “Oh no sir. You come over here and lay with your brother.”

The two dogs settle beside each other. Chippy laying a head on Sprinkles while they both watch their quickly falling asleep baby. “Kitten, nap.”

She leans over on his shoulder. Her own baby doggie in her arms, cradling him like a baby.

That is exactly how Jax found them when he came home early. All curled up on the couch with his baby. With a smirk, he walks into Ransom’s office to see his wife working on something. “Mimi, Papa, Daisy, and the boys are sleeping. What do you say, you break schedule and go get some lunch with your husband.”

“Really?”

“Really, Squeakers. We’re surrounded by people all the time. I wanna make sure we take time for just us. And seeing how they’re good…please?”

“No bike. And you have me for an hour.”

“That’s all I need.”

Masterlist

[therealvinelle]

in the “everyone is in love with Bella” scenario, what about the wolves? Wouldn’t it be really fucked up for Sam to fall in love with her? Would it make the wolves try to redefine imprinting? how would Leah react to the whole situation?

Anon is referring to this post. For the record, I didn't get into them in the post because the plot would veer so far off-course in Twilight that Edward never leaves and Victoria never becomes a threat to Bella, meaning Bella and Jake don't get close and she doesn't need their protection.

But, let's do this.

First encounter

Bella arrives in Forks, and Billy and Jacob are there to hand over the pickup.

Boom.

They fall in love.

Jacob, having never had a real crush before nevermind something so powerful as falling in love, is overwhelmed by these new feelings. He blushes and flushes and stutters, and fails to say anything reasonable or even intelligble to Bella. Too mortified to function, he decides to hide in La Push until the embarrassment fades. Which very well could be never.

Billy, meanwhile, is unable to cope. He just fell in love with Charlie's daughter. Charlie's 17-year-old daughter who used to make mud cakes with Billy's daughters.

This is bad.

This, to a good man like Billy, is unforgivably bad.

He goes from being Charlie's best friend to suddenly being very distant, not wanting to ever cross paths with Bella again.

But, you asked about the wolves, not just Jake and Billy, so let's take this scenario further.

Bella's friends, all of whom are hopelessly in love with her, drag her to La Push

Jessica, Lauren, Mike, Angela, Tyler, Eric, Ben, the whole gang, they're all going to La Push for the weekend.

And it just won't be the same without Bella. She's just so great, you know?

Everyone looks at each other and nods. Yeah, it's just not fun without Bella. Bella's great, someone should invite her.

They all invite her, one by one, all of them with wide, adoring eyes. "It would be so amazing if you came, Bella," Jessica says dreamily, twirling a lock of Bella's hair around her fingers. "Your hair is really pretty," she giggles.

Angela and Ben are each blushing too hard to really say anything to Bella, so they end up running away from her. Bella is left feeling like some kind of freak. She later receives two notes in class, one from each, begging her in cramped writing to come to La Push. Yeah, not helping her feel like less of a freak.

Mike, Eric, Tyler, and Lauren all corner her, each worse than the last.

By the end of the schoolday Bella doesn't know what's going to happen at La Push but she does know that she doesn't want to go.

She complains about this to the Cullens (remember, her and Edward became an item much earlier in this timeline), and they all fawn and coo over her and act like she just went through a warzone. If she wants to go to the beach, she could try Isle Esme Bella. Would she like that, an island vacation? Or an island?

Bella is pulled out of school for a romantic two-week totally-not-a-honeymoon.

La Push never happens.

But surely Bella and the wolves must meet at some point

Billy catches wind that Bella Swan is dating Edward Cullen. As in, the girl he has fallen so deeply in love with is now being preyed upon by a blood-sucking demon.

Billy's own sense of propriety or honor be damned, he has to save this girl's life.

He tries to speak to her, just as in canon, but just as in canon this goes poorly. Bella is a savvy 17-year-old who doesn't need no warning, and besides, the Cullens are all so sweet. They're like hobbits, really, obviously she's not in any danger. She tells Billy as much. Vampires are lovely, does he know they gave her an island?

(Billy did not know this, and yes, that's weird. Doesn't mean they're not evil, though.)

Billy gets nowhere with his would-be intervention.

Time to bring in the big guns.

Sam phases around this time, and imprints on Emily. Break-ups with Leah, maulings, and tragic lovestories all around are had.

It is around this time that Billy brings Sam up to speed on the Bella situation, although leaving out the part where he's hopelessly in love with the girl because that would not be received well. Could Sam go speak with her about this, see if maybe she will take his warning seriously? The situation is dire.

Sure, Sam can do that. No one wants a human girl to get eaten or turned, after all.

Sam goes to see Bella.

And promptly falls in love just as he did Emily.

Emily, who is currently in the hospital from Sam mauling her, which happened specifically because Sam had imprinted.

It's official, Sam thinks, he's the greatest scumbag there ever was.

The Emily and Leah situation was awful enough as it was, breaking all three of their hearts and causing irreparable damage both physically and mentally. Sam wronged them both colossaly, and he can never amend that.

But he imprinted. He wasn't just being a douchebag, actual magic made him do it.

Now, though...

Either Sam imprinted on multiple people, in which case his happy ending is now polygamy. And how would that be a happy ending for Emily and Bella?

Or, possibly even more terrifying yet, he didn't imprint on either woman.

Breaking up with Leah, mauling Emily, making Emily fall in love with him after that and ruining her relationship with her cousin, in short putting these women through hell, all of it- it was for nothing. Sam's just a horndog who sees supernatural intervention where there's really just hormones.

Why couldn't he just have imprinted on Leah?

Sam can't go on a sabbatical to figure this out, his tribe needs him. So he takes to living in the woods alone, where he is alone, to try and figure this out.

But it gets more painful yet, because he can't just disappear on Emily.

So, he tells her. He owes her that much. And it's not goodbye forever, either, just- goodbye until he can figure out how to be the man she deserves. A man anybody deserves, really, because right now Sam's not it.

Emily has no idea what to make of any of this, but she knows her heart is broken.

She has to see this woman all of this is about.

Naturally, she falls in love as well.

The plot thickens

The next time Sam drops by, Emily gives him the news. They're both in love with Bella now.

Sam no longer knows what to make of anything.

Is the universe trying to tell them to form a polycule?

Nothing like that has ever happened before, but not much is known about imprinting. There's a first time for everything..?

At this point they're both giving themselves headaches trying to figure this out. It's a mess.

More, Bella hasn't even met either of them. Sam and Emily can't just walk up to her and say "Hi, be our wife".

Or can they?

If Emily fell in love at first sight, maybe it'll work in reverse. Maybe Bella just has to look upon them, and she'll fall in love.

Sam is dubious, but at this point let's just do this. Let's just do this, see what happens.

They walk up to Charlie's to deliver some of Harry's fish fry. Bella opens the door.

"HIIIII" Emily says, trying to act normal.

Sam's not saying anything.

"Hi," Bella says back, nonplussed, and looks at the bag Emily is clutching with white-knuckled fists.

All three of them are silent.

Bella is starting to wonder if there's something with the town water supply. She is also wondering if these people are planning to say anything, or if they just really enjoy knocking on doors and saying hi to people. Is there something Bella should be doing?

Eventually she clears er throat and asks if there's anything she can do for them.

Sam and Emily glance at each other. Bella's not looking starstruck with love, but she's not acting normal either. Who stands in a doorway and stares at people for almost a minute before talking?

It's inconclusive.

Emily hands over the fish fry. "From Harry," she says, and introduces herself.

Bella nods, remembering Charlie's friend who all but ran out of the door when he saw her and hasn't been fishing with Charlie since. None of Charlie's friends have. Charlie is going nuts. Maybe she should try hooking him up with Carlisle, vampires are lovely, they'd get along so well.

Bella, noting Emily and Sam aren't saying anything else, says bye and moves to close the door.

"Wait!" Sam yells, at the same time as Emily rips a piece of paper from her pocket, and sticks it into Bella's hand.

Bella looks down on it. It's two phone numbers.

She looks back up at Sam and Emily, who by now feel quite certain that this girl hasn't fallen in love with them and that this is the most humiliating moment of both their lives.

Just in case, though...

"Call us," Emily says flirtatiously, winks, and runs away.

Sam follows.

Bella never calls them back, and they never speak of this again.

A few months later, Leah who’d been shopping in Forks happily tells Sam and Emily that she's fallen in love with a girl, she lives in Forks, she's amazing, her name is Bella Swan.

"I took one look at her, and I knew," Leah says dreamily.

[maybege]

Birthday Party Adventures

Summary: With his daughter’s birthday party approaching, Paz has many plans to make it all go right. What he didn’t expect was for Emily to invite her teacher and his crush – you.

Pairing: single dad!Paz Vizsla x fem!teacher!Reader

Wordcount: 4.0k | Rating: T

Warnings: Modern AU, fluffy fluff

Oh I feel like it has been ages since I initially wrote this (back in September actually!) but I love it just as much as on the first day and I hope that you will enjoy it too! This is dedicated to my Paz Gang @aerynwrites @datmando @hdlynnslibrary @princessbatears and @stubbychaos who came up with this wonderful AU idea. ❤

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Paz was overwhelmed.

Paz was truly and utterly overwhelmed.

“Can I go and get my cereal?” Emily asked next to him, clearly bored with her father’s antics, “You will take ages to choose, Uncle Din was right.”

“All right, go ahead,” he mumbled, choosing to ignore the fact that Din had – once again – infiltrated his daughter’s thoughts with horrible lies. He did not take ages. Anybody would take as long as he was taking when the choices were so … vast.

Cake mix after cake mix was displayed in the aisle and how would he know which one he should get?

Emily’s birthday was this weekend – Saturday to be exact and he had promised her a cake. He always promised her a cake. And he always failed.

But not this time.

This time, he had listened to his best friend and would settle on a cake mix although he still felt like he was cutting corners. But at least it would not be store-bought. And, as Fennec had suggested, he could still buy some decorations to make the cake special.

Because that’s what Emily deserved – a special cake, made with love.

So, while his daughter was probably trying to find the sweetest cereal there was available, he tried to settle on a cake.

Deep down, Paz knew that Emily was probably eating way too much sugar. But to be honest, there were so many battles he could fight at once and he was more prepared to fight some judgmental soccer moms than the will of his own daughter.

Holding two cake mixes in his hands – birthday confetti and chocolate – Paz whipped around as he heard an all too familiar voice greet him. “Mr Vizsla, it is so nice to see you.”

There you were.

The woman of his dreams.

Emily’s teacher.

Stars, he knew he was probably acting absolutely ridiculous around you. No matter what kind of school event there was, as one of Emily’s main teachers you were always around he was never able to take his eyes off you.

Not only were you pretty and smart but you were kind. You kept all the kids in check with a calmness that he admired you for and he could see how you valued each and every student in your class. And now you were here, wrapped in an oversized cardigan and clutching a shopping basket in your hands.

But you beamed at him and he was sure he’d never seen anything prettier.

Forgotten were the cake mixes in his hands as he lowered them to the sides of his body. “Hi, um, Miss –“

“Emily was mentioning you were having trouble choosing.”

“Em saw you?”

You chuckled, avoiding your eyes as if you were embarrassed, “I came over to say hello and she mentioned you needed help to choose a cake?”

Speak, for maker’s sake, speak! A voice in his head screamed at him but his brain was still processing the fact that (a) this was not a school event and (b) you were speaking to him, leading to (c) you were speaking to him in your own free time.

“Chocolate.”

“What?”

“I would go with chocolate,” you gestured to the box in his right hand, biting your lip and stars, he wanted to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and take walks through the park with you. Instead, here he was, making a fool of himself.

“I will trust your judgment, then,” he nodded, carefully putting the other box back on the shelf. When that was done, you kept standing there in front of him looking up at him expectantly. Why – why? – couldn’t he speak? It should not be this hard to open his mouth.

He just needed to say I think you are wonderful and I would like to get to know you more. Would you be interested in having dinner with me?

“Um, would you like to …”, his voice trailed off.

You did that lip-biting thing again and your whole face lit up and stars, maybe you wanted him to ask you. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you would like to –“

“I know you said I wasn’t allowed the sweet ones but it’s my birthday soon,” Em announced loudly, dropping a box in the already full shopping cart and pouting at him, “Can I have it as an early present, pretty please?”

Mission: Ask Pretty Teacher Out For Dinner was immediately aborted and he swore he saw a look of disappointment flash across your face. At least that was something to give him hope.

“Dad always makes me a cake and he fails every year, it’s a tradition by now,” his daughter explained and he groaned inwardly, but then she had her thinking face on – the same she had as a toddler – and suddenly added, “You should bring one.”

“What?”

“Em, I don’t think your teacher has the time to …”

But Em, bless her soul, would not be deterred from her plan. By now he cursed the stubborn streak that ran through his family and had evidently taken root in his daughter as well.

“Dad always talks about how much he likes your raspberry chocolate crumble,” she shrugged, “And my classmates like it too.”

When would the ground open up and swallow him whole?

And the worst thing was: Em wasn’t even lying. She had her blunt honesty from him and the way he had gushed about that raspberry crumble had been unusual, especially for him. But it had also been unusually good. And the way you had smiled at him when he had taken a second serving had made his heart warm.

Now though, there were no words that could describe the embarrassment that flowed through him. He felt exposed in a way that he had not felt for a long time and being at anyone’s mercy – even if it was yours – was not something that he cherished.

“Well,” you started with a smile and looked at him, “If your dad won’t mind, I could certainly bring over a cake for your birthday party.”

“He won’t mind.”

“I won’t mind.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you smiled, genuinely smiled, at him. Paz’s breath caught in his throat. Stars, you were beautiful. Everything about you was just magnificent from the tips of your hair to your eyes, your nose, your lips, how you hugged your oversized cardigan closer to you.

“Great,” you nodded, “So … I will see you then?”

“My dad will text you the info,” Emily added, seemingly the only one who kept her cool at the situation.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “Oh, but I don’t –“

“Dad, why don’t you give Miss Y/L/N your number?” Em brazenly suggested, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that he knew all too well, “For adult stuff.”

He could feel his ears burn, could hear himself sputtering out words about how he did not want to be inappropriate and how this should be your decision and not Emily’s. And stars, he didn’t want to make advances towards you.

Well, he did.

He did want to flirt with you, wanted to compliment you on your kind eyes and your shining smile. But not like this. Not if it made you uncomfortable. And certainly not in the blaring lights of the grocery store aisle.

But before he could say anything more, before he could dig his hole deeper, you had your phone in your hands and were looking at him expectantly. And then he stumbled through his phone number, you nodding all the while and typing the numbers into a new contact.

“Great,” you smiled, “So – I will see you then?”

“Yes,” he murmured dumbly, “I will see you then.”

*

5:33 pm: Hi! This is Y/N 😊 Just wanted to say I’m really looking forward to Emily’s party this Saturday. Is there anything I should bring next to the crumble?

5:59 pm: Sorry, it just occurred to me that you probably only know me by my last name. I’m Emily’s teacher.

6:12 pm: Hello, this is Paz. Emily’s dad. You do not need to bring anything other than the cake and yourself.

7:43 pm: I am looking forward to seeing you too.

*

Saturday rolled around quicker than he had anticipated.

He had spent the week trying to make sure everything would be ready for Emily’s party (and your arrival) and that the apartment would be in tip-top shape to be destroyed by a bunch of kids.

He had spent almost all of Friday night wrapping presents when Emily was fast asleep only to be woken up at sunrise by his very energetic daughter who wanted to have some tasty pancakes from their favourite café around the corner.

He loved mornings like this.

Where it was just Em and him and they could enjoy their peace and quiet. Seeing her grow up was bliss and torture at the same time. He loved her, he was so proud of her and seeing her grow slowly but surely into a confident young woman was everything he’d ever wished for. But at the same time, it felt like time was slipping through his fingers. He wanted to catch these precious moments in his hands and never let them go.

This moment of calm did not last for long though, only for breakfast and until they were back in the apartment, preparing excitedly for the party that was to come.

Baking a cake was a disaster just like Emily had said it would be.

Maybe she had been right in saying that it was a tradition now. Maybe he really would not be able to bake a cake for her.

But now it was not only the cake. In less than an hour, 10 kids would swarm the way too small city apartment and he would need to prepare some food and why had he decided against ordering pizza and what if something went wrong?

And you would show up too, sometime, and he had wanted to change into something more appropriate for actually having a teacher (aka crush) over and being dressed in his flour-covered flannel shirt was certainly not it.

The doorbell rang just as the bowl of cake mix fell to the tiled floor. “Kriffing shit” he cursed trying to jump out of the cloud of grains just as he heard the tell-tale footsteps of Emily running to the door. “I got it!”

“No, Em, wait -!”

But it was too late. He had just caught himself on the doorframe when you stepped into the hallway, looking around curiously. You fit in so well, he thought instinctively, you could live here too.

“I’m a bit too early, I hope you don’t –“ you halted in your words, tilting your head at his flour-covered appearance, “mind.”

“I – I am so sorry,” he started, trying to dust off but only making it worse, “I was a bit in a hurry and I –“

“It’s all right,” you replied quickly, lifting the box in your hands lamely, “I brought cake.”

“I will take that,” Em decided, taking the cake off your hands and transporting it to the dinner table in the living room. But not without showing him the huge grin on her face.

“I’m sorry for the mess, I just …” he threw up his hands in defeat, desperation clear in his voice, as you followed him into the chaotic kitchen.

“No worries, we will manage that just fine.”

The way you said we made his heart beat faster and he stepped aside to make space for you.

The apartment Emily and he lived in was actually a miracle to find in such a big city and he still thanked the stars for the day when the landlord had decided to let him, a single father and his tiny daughter, move in. But for all its perks – the layout, the view, the small balcony that fit a small bench – the apartment had one single flaw: The kitchen.

It was a tiny kitchen with the counters wrapping around all three walls and leaving only the space free where the doorway was. And it was narrow. He had always cursed it, especially with his size, and more than once had he accidentally hit his head on a cabinet door that his daughter had left open.

And where it was small for one full-grown adult, it was a tight fit for two. Which made it even worse. Or better. Depending on how one viewed things.

You bumped against him constantly, his hands brushing accidentally against yours, one time almost smashing into you but only hitting your foreheads together. And you only ever giggled or smiled shyly at him, never ever stepping away from the closeness and it made his heart flutter in his chest.

Maybe – maybe you wanted that too.

While he was mixing the dough together under your careful eyes, you had started to slice some apples that he had found in the pantry. He threw a few glances your way, catching you looking at him too before smiling at you.

Stars, he really was behaving like a lovesick puppy, wasn’t he?

“You are pretty good at this,” he commented, nodding towards the cake that you had brought with you. You spooned a bit of cinnamon into the apple mix, before spreading the dough in the baking form he had found somewhere in a cabinet.

“It’s a hobby,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I was never good with finding new connections when I moved and I found that making good food helps people to talk to you.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to talk to you,” he blurted out, feeling his ears grow hot, “I mean because – you don’t need baking to be nice and I – fuck, wait, shit no, I don’t mean fuck, I – “

You laughed, full-on giggles escaping you as he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I imagined all of this differently.”

“How – how did you imagine it?” you asked quietly, stepping closer to him. Your eyes were so big now and you looked so hopeful and he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“Well, I wanted to look competent for once,” he stated, gesturing around the filled countertops, “And not forcing you to help me make up my mistakes.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” you protested, biting your lip, “I – I like helping you and … spending time with you.”

“Dad, Alyssa is already on her way, are you sure want to cook? Is the cake even ready? I invited Isabelle and I don’t want her to think that I can’t –“

Apparently, he could not hide the misery on his face – when had he decided that it would be a good idea to not only bake a cake but cook for a hoard of hungry kids? – because you snorted next to him, clearly amused. Emily had crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking pleadingly up at him.

“Don’t worry, your father and I will make sure there will be enough cake to go around,” you reassured his daughter before looking at him, “Do you have a plan for dinner?”

“We could always order pizza,” Emily suggested, the hope in her eyes clear as she looked at him.

Stars, when would he ever be able to deny her anything?

“It’s true,” he chuckled, patting his daughter on her back, “We always end up with pizza anyway.”

So, while you and Em busied yourselves with putting the pie in the oven, he ordered pizza for everyone. (A few family-sized pizzas would be enough right?) And because he was feeling a little more confident, he also added a side of garlic bread and a bottle of wine to the order. Maybe you would like to stay if he could offer a glass of wine?

On his way back, he passed Emily on the way to the bathroom. “I will go get ready,” she announced loudly while also wildly gesturing towards the kitchen.

When he entered the small room, he could feel the heat of the oven already.

“It should be done soon if everything works as it should,” you announced and straightened up, “The kids definitely won’t starve.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” the relief in his voice was clear, “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Then it is a good thing we won’t have to know,” you teased him and the mirth in your eyes made him want to kiss you so badly. And there it was again. That silent tension between the two of you.

This would be a good moment, he thought to himself as he slowly lowered his face towards yours, Emily was occupied getting ready, the pie was in the oven, you were alone with him and he could hear your breath hitch in your throat.

Delicate fingers closed around his wrist, pulling him closer and he could feel your breath on his face and just a little bit more and then –

Ring!

He flinched away from you, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s probably Alyssa,” he whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Alyssa was dropped off by her mother. Her eyes fell to you, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, drying your hands on a towel and looking very much at home (he tried to ignore how warm that made him feel).

“Miss Y/L/N,” she greeted you, clearly caught off guard, “what a surprise to see you here, I didn’t know that Emily had invited you too.”

“Oh well you know …” you shrugged your shoulders and he could hear the wheels turning in your head, searching for a good excuse.

“My dad invited her,” Em announced smugly, her and Alyssa grinning from ear to ear.

The awkward silence between the adults would have been hilarious hadn’t he been a part of it. But what his brain decided to focus on the most was the fact that you had not denied it, you had simply smiled at Alyssa’s mom, made some small talk about the newest English project you had the kids working on, and remained standing next to him the whole time.

Paz was sure that his gazing at you was obvious to everyone present but he could not help himself.

One after another, the little guests trickled in, playing board games and eating your delicious cake in the living room. He helped Em set up the little karaoke game that she had gotten from Din last Christmas and excited cheers filled the room as they tried to look at the different song options.

Paz left them to their own devices, knowing that should anything go wrong, Em would come and get him.

But with the living room occupied, the only space left for him and you to be was the tiny kitchen.

“So … I, um, I helped you with the cake,” you started to shuffle, hands wringing in front of your belly, “I really don’t want to outstay my welcome and –“

“You could stay if you want,” he suggested, blood pumping in his veins, “I – I have ordered some wine and garlic bread if you’d like.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting next to him on the kitchen floor, your legs stretched out in front of you. He had to angle his legs a little, the space between the counters too small for him. But the closeness it provided to you was more than worth it. He fished two wine glasses from the shelf, handing them down to you before grabbing the bottle of wine.

There were no clean plates left so he spread the pizza carton out on both of your legs, the warmth of the food seeping into his thighs.

“To a successful birthday party,” you stated, carefully clinking your glass with his, “And to the very talented father who organized it all.”

“To the best baker out there,” he replied and the way you bit your lip made him smile.

He bit into the garlic bread heartily and his stomach grumbled satisfied.

“This is so good,” you moaned next to him, mouth still full and he grinned.

You ate in peaceful silence, munching on a few leftover slices of pizza that the kids had graciously left. With the warm glow from the kitchen lamps, he decided that birthday parties weren’t so bad when he had you there to enjoy it with.

When he looked at you, his gaze fell to a drop of red sauce that had found its place on the corner of your mouth. You tilted your head questioningly.

“You, uh,” he murmured, gesturing towards his face, “You got something there.”

When your hands missed it, his own rose up to your face. He swore he could hear your breath hitch as his thumb brushed over the tomato sauce, wiping it away.

But your face remained turned towards him, your lips slightly open and were you getting closer?

Was he reading the signs right? He didn’t even know. All he knew was he wanted to kiss you. Really. Truly. No matter how inappropriate it might be.

And with the karaoke in the background and a bunch of 10-year olds shrieking the lyrics to the newest chart, he bowed down his head and kissed you. Full on the mouth.

It was soft and gentle, both of you not moving an inch. But then his hand crept forward, gently framing your cheek and you gasped against him, your hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer and stars you were returning the kiss.

You tasted of wine and cake and you were soft, so soft, he loved every second of it.

Slowly, he started to move his lips, brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, pulling your closer and suddenly you were straddling him, his hands on your hips pulling your closer and his back against the counter and the screeching of some Jojo Siwa song in the background.

When he slowly pulled away, your bottom lip falling from his teeth, your chest was heaving from his kisses, your lips were swollen, and he wanted to pull you to him again. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asked breathlessly, eyes searching for any indication that he had crossed a line. But you were still clinging to him, your hands wandering down to grasp at his forearms.

This. This would be what he dreamed about now. The smile on your lips, how your eyes shone in the low kitchen lights, how you kept touching him.

“I’d really like that,” you nodded, the small smile on your lips growing bigger by the seconds.

“Really?” he asked, his nose nudging against yours, “That’s – that’s great, how about tomorrow? We could go for a walk in the park?”

“A walk in the park sounds great,” you whispered against his lips and he dipped his head to kiss you again, just as slowly.

“Good,” he murmured.

“Good,” you repeated, your tongue mingling with his.

“Dad, do we have any more of that cake left, it’s actually really –“

In a panic, he almost threw you off him.

You were doing your best to right your cardigan as Emily entered the kitchen, eyeing both of you suspiciously.

“Sorry, what was that, Em?” he asked, swallowing hard and hoping to all the stars that she hadn’t seen him make out with you like a teenager.

“I was just wondering if you had any more cake left, I can’t believe it but it actually tastes good?!”

He laughed and gestured towards the counter, “there some more, you can take the tray to the living room, I – we will just clean up some more.”

“You know, I totally saw you two kissing, right?”

“Emily Vizsla!”

“What? It is not like I am going to scold you or anything,” and with her usual confidence, she swayed away, the cake in her hands.

“Well, you heard her,” he grinned, hands coming up to frame your face again, as he kneeled on the tiles, his lips descending yours, “It is not like she is going to scold us or anything …”

And with that, he kissed you again.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Day 16, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: T

TW: implied violence and near-death experience (but nothing explicit)

A/N: This is the part two follow-up to Rewrite the Stars.

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

Hermione’s hand trembles as she reaches over to her nightstand and turns on the light. She can’t sleep, which is a common occurrence as of late. Where she once relished in the quiet of her flat, now the serenity is too much to bear. She is running out of changes to make that will erase the worst, most painful decision of her life. The ultra-soft linens she purchased for her bed are anything but comforting and luxurious. They feel scratchy and cold, and the fresh and clean look of the white comforter with its floral patterns gives off more of a sterile vibe than the new slate she’d been hoping for. Instead, it serves as another stark reminder that all the vibrancy and color had evaporated from her life when she pushed Ron away.

It’s been 62 days since the disaster of the Auror gala, and 50 since Hermione’s received any form of contact from him. Ron has honored her wishes to break things off no matter how much it pained them both to do so. Part of her still wishes he’d floo into her fireplace or knock on her door, begging her to give them another chance. But she knows deep down none of that will ever happen. He is a man of respect, and he will always abide by her requests, even if she no longer wants to keep them herself.

It’s better this way. She reminds herself of the constant scrutiny they’d face if they stayed together, and the hurt and discomfort even at the mere thought indicate that her feelings haven’t changed. There is no way she could put him through that sort of subjection just so she can be selfish and happy. Their lives are too different, and they live in a world where the acceptance of all kinds of love doesn't exist.

So, in the grueling months since they ended things for a second time, Hermione has worked to make changes, some drastic, some minute, in an effort to force herself to move on. She is too proud to let anyone in her life know the pain that she feels with every conscious breath that she takes. Hermione has thrown herself into her work, staying at school late to mark papers, redecorate the classroom, or develop new lesson plans to benefit the students and create more hands-on experiences.

And once she realized that her preparation was complete through the end of next term, Hermione turned to her flat. Weekends have been spent on home projects. Painting the walls, updating the decor, and cleaning every square inch of her flat, all to help her forget.

But the problem is, her heart doesn’t want to forget. Every book she sits down to read reminds her of time spent with Ron. Her renewed efforts in the kitchen never fail to bring a smile or a chuckle to her lips as her mind traitorously wonders what Ron would think if he were here to observe the barely edible mess she’s created. Yet, Hermione is not naive enough to believe that it will change anything. She knows it won’t.

As she sits up in the enormous queen-sized bed, she reaches for the parchment that lays in tri-folds on the nightstand. The paper is worn, with visible wrinkles preventing it from lying flat and tear stains causing the corners to curl as she unfolds the delicate sheet. Hermione’s not sure why she’s opening the letter to read. She knows it won’t bring her the comfort she craves or the answers she desires.

The messy scrawl gives way to Ron’s only correspondence with her since the last time they spoke, and she latches onto it as if it’s the only life preserver on a capsizing vessel. It’s the only thing she has left. The only reminder of the life she could have had.

I’m not scared to tell the truth. 

I went to hell and back and I went with you

Remind me what we were before,

When you said you are mine, and I am yours

Hermione,

There’s a lot I want to say and I’m not sure if I can fit it all in this letter, but I’m going to try. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I did mean everything I said that night. I’m not afraid to tell you how I feel. What we have, er, had, I guess, is special. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life, and I don’t think I ever will. And it’s not just about the case and finding comfort in each other. 

When we broke things off after graduation, I felt like a part of me was missing. The Auror academy kept me busy, and sure, my life moved on, but I wasn’t really happy. Not as happy as I was when we were together. And then fate brought us back together and we decided to make another go of it, that’s when I realized that you were what was missing. You make my life so much brighter, so meaningful, and I’m sorry if I sound like a sap, but I need you to know how I feel.

I would give up everything for you. Social status means nothing to me. If the Aurors sack me because of my personal relations, then so be it. I’ll work with George, or find something else. If my family can’t be supportive, then it will be their loss. I’m not willing to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it, and I refuse to give in to the Ministry’s stance on bloody purity. 

I know this is all probably ‘too little, too late’ or whatever that Muggle saying is that you like to use, and I promise you I’m going to respect your wishes. But I had to tell you. I had to let you know because...well...there’s this mission that’s come up. It’s going to be bloody dangerous and Robards asked for volunteers because he knows how risky it’s going to be. Anyone who goes isn’t guaranteed to come back and, well, I won’t go into the details, but I volunteered to go.

I know, I know, I can hear you in the back of my head telling me that it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and not to throw my life away because we’re not together, but Hermione, it’s been twelve days and I can’t go on day to day like this. I can’t. Working is the only thing that eases the pain and gets my mind off of everything. I’ll be as safe as I can be, I promise.

I hope you find the happiness you deserve. You’re brilliant, always remember that. Just know that I love you, and it’s because I love you that I’m going to try to let go.

Ron

Tears threaten in Hermione’s eyes once again. It’s no different than every other time she reads the letter. Nothing has changed; Ron’s gone, still on his mission six weeks later and no end in sight. Hermione is sure this is the reason she’s not sleeping. With every passing day and no news of Ron’s whereabouts, she turns to the only object that can provide her with any source of comfort: the letter.

After three weeks of constant worrying and bags under her eyes so prevalent that even her eight-year-old students noticed, Hermione caved and wrote to Harry. Even though they can’t be together, she knows deep down that she can still care about his well-being. 

Harry’s response had been timely and brief. He didn’t have details of the mission but reassured Hermione that no news is good news. Hermione thanked him and asked for updates if it wasn’t too much trouble. The two had been friendly in school, growing closer as her relationship with Ron blossomed as well. She didn’t expect his alliance to stray from his best friend but still appreciated his willingness to be cordial with her after everything she’d put Ron through.

“Please come home to me,” she whispers into the darkness.

Her heart aches more as her eyes hover over the parchment once more, searching for the three words that she knows she’ll never read too many times: I love you.

For some reason, this three a.m. readthrough hits differently. She carefully folds the parchment, places it back on the nightstand and turns off the light. There are still a few more hours left to find sleep.

Hermione tosses and turns as she attempts to focus on sleep and quieting her thoughts. At some point, a flash illuminates the night sky, and that’s when the pieces begin forming more vividly in her mind. The clap of thunder follows seconds later, and with it, a realization is born. As the rain begins its slow cadence of pitter-patters on the window, the brevity of Hermione’s decision hits her with the force of the storm strengthening outside.

I don’t know much, but I know myself

And I don’t want to love anybody else

So let’s break the spell and lift the curse

Remember when we fell for each other head first

There is only one question that forms in her mind. One question that surpasses any of the other thoughts she’s managed to cope with over the last two months. 

What have I done?

None of her previous attempts to move past this matter anymore, even though it’s too late, and there’s nothing she can do. 

Three days later, Hermione is finishing up her night-time routine when there’s a knock on her door. She looks at the antique clock on the wall that reads 10:45. Her heart plummets to her stomach. No one calls this late at night with good news. She stands frozen in place, amazed that the glass of water in her hand hasn’t spilled to the floor as a result of her shock.

Another knock, and Hermione manages to lift her feet from the floor. She reaches over and sets the glass on the counter before pulling her dressing gown tight around her waist. The carpet feels thick and heavy, as if her feet are wading through mud and sludge as she makes the torturous trek to the door. Five steps feel like five thousand. She’s sure all of this has happened in a matter of seconds, but it feels like minutes. Maybe the caller will be gone by the time her eye reaches the peephole.

Her hope is instantly quashed when she peers through the tiny circle to see an older gentleman that she doesn’t quite recognize at first. He’s wearing an overcoat and tan bowler hat, and is looking down at a torn piece of parchment. A pair of cerulean blue eyes drift back up to the number on her flat’s door, and that’s when the familiarity hits Hermione like a muggle slamming into the brick wall that separates platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station.

She can feel the blood drain from her face as dizziness overcomes her. Falling forward, she clasps onto the doorknob to steady herself. The noise catches the gentleman’s attention.

“Er, Ms. Granger. Are you home? It’s very important that I speak to you. Please, I mean no harm if you’ll open up.”

Hermione struggles to find her voice to respond. Her hands are shaking so violently that she can barely latch on to the deadbolt that has been fastened for the evening.

“Oh, er, please forgive me. We haven’t formally met, but it’s Mr. Weasley out here. Ron’s father.”

Hearing Ron’s name gives Hermione the strength that she needs to click the deadbolt to the left as she manages to turn the door handle with her other hand. Pulling the door open, she slowly looks up at the elder Weasley.

“Is—is everything okay?” Her voice is raw and weak, and she’s sure the shock is the only thing preventing the tears from pooling in her eyes.

“Er, no, it’s not. May I come in?” His eyes dart around, as if he doesn’t want to discuss the matter out in the open.

Hermione opens the door wider to let him in and manages to shut it when he’s through the entryway. Her free hand fiddles with her wand that’s still inside her pocket—just in case—though she fears no imminent threat from Ron’s father.

"Ms. Granger, I’m sorry for calling so late. I wouldn’t be here at all, actually, if it wasn’t for Harry mentioning—ah, well, that’s no matter...” 

Mr. Weasley is rambling, and Hermione has trouble processing his words. Her breath catches at the mention of Harry’s name, which draws Mr. Weasley’s attention to her, helping him get to the point of his late-night visit.

“Ron’s been gravely injured. He’s at St. Mungo’s now. They brought him in an hour or so ago. Molly and I met Harry and Ginny there as soon as we heard. He’s stable for now, but the Healers are unsure if it will hold.” 

Hermione grasps the back of the couch to keep from collapsing to the ground. A sob bursts from her throat as the tears that threatened moments ago now spill freely down her cheeks.

“Wh-what happened?” 

The words are spoken with great effort.

“We don’t have many details. The Aurors are still trying to clean up loose ends on the mission, but it sounds like the operation was successful thanks to Ron’s efforts. One of the target’s accomplices hit Ron with an unknown spell before he was caught.”

Even through Hermione’s own devastation, she can hear the tremor in Ron’s father’s voice. He’s scared, though he’s hiding it well as he continues to explain what he knows. There’s a sheen in his eyes as the moisture appears, emotions raw as he finishes bringing Hermione up to speed.

“Everyone was apprehended, and Ron appears to be the only one who got hurt. We should know more in the coming hours.”

Hermione can only offer a blank stare as she processes the information. His letter said it would be a dangerous mission. He didn’t sound as if he was hopeful that he’d come back alive. Or maybe he was hoping—no, don’t think like that. It was her fault that he’d gone in the first place. By some miracle, he was still hanging on, and the haziness of Hermione’s previous decisions about their relationship begins to give way. The fact that his father is there in her flat informing her has to mean something.

“Why are you here?”

It comes out harsher than Hermione intends, but after their less than amicable meeting at the gala, Hermione can’t be bothered with pleasantries. Even if his wife’s behavior was ruder than his own.

The older man pulls out a handkerchief and wipes beads of sweat off his brow as he sighs deeply. 

“Ms. Granger—”

“Hermione.”

“Right, yes, Hermione. I am aware that we did not get off on the right foot. I’m sorry I never introduced myself on the night of the gala. We weren’t expecting Ron to have a date. I’ll admit that Molly and I were ignorant in the way we treated you that night, and for that, I am sorry. Nothing can take back our words, nor can it change the way others view you based on your blood status, but please know how wrong we were. 

“Ron was devastated after you broke things off after the gala, and I suppose that was largely due to our behavior. It’s clear to us how much he loves you, and we don’t want to stand in the way of that. So, when Harry mentioned you had asked for news and wanted to come tell you, I insisted that I should be the one to see you. Please don’t let our ignorance stand in the way of your happiness.”

Hermione stands there, listening to Arthur’s apology. While she appreciates the olive branch, part of her can’t help but feel that it’s too little, too late, and a new wave of tears flood her eyes as she sees those exact words in Ron’s letter. She offers a curt nod to let him know she appreciates the gesture, even as her voice can’t find the words.

“I won’t keep you. I should be getting back, but Ron is in room 408. You are on the approved list as a family member if you decide you want to see him, and Molly’s agreed to let you stay with him if you’d like.” 

Arthur gives a weak nod as he dabs his forehead once more before making his way to the door. It takes Hermione a moment to realize what’s happening, and as soon as everything processes, she’s pushing herself off the back of the sofa and calling out to Arthur.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m coming! Please, er, if you don’t mind waiting. I just need to get changed—”

“Of course.”

Arthur offers a paternal smile as Hermione rushes into her bedroom and throws on the first thing she can find. She almost forgets to grab her bag as she throws on her coat and locks the door behind her.

Moments later, they’re entering St. Mungo’s, and Mr. Weasley leads the way through the main hall to the lifts. It’s only as the gate shuts that nerves begin to bubble up in her stomach. She’s been running on the adrenaline of the news, and now she can’t help but wonder how the rest of Ron’s family will react when they see her. Or, what’s worse, how Ron will react if and when he wakes up.

When. It has to be when.

As if sensing her trepidation, Mr. Weasley places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The lift opens, and the first person she sees is Harry in the waiting room. Her feet gravitate toward him of their own accord, and when Harry sees her, he meets her halfway and wraps her in a tight hug.

“He’s going to be okay. He has to,” Harry whispers in her ear.

Hermione nods, forcing her brain to believe his words. When they let go, Ginny hugs Hermione next, which helps her feel more relaxed. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

After one final squeeze, Ginny lets go so Hermione can follow Arthur down the hall to Ron’s room. He opens the door, and Hermione enters the sterile, white room. The most color she sees is his shock of red hair against the fluffy white pillow that’s cradling his head. Her heart begins beating faster as she spots his mum sitting vigil at his side. 

Mrs. Weasley looks up to see the two standing there. A hard, stony look immediately sets on her face in defense before it softens slightly. She stands and walks over to Hermione. She knows that she’ll have a harder time winning over the Weasley matriarch based on this interaction, but if Ron wakes up—and will take her back—she’s willing to do anything to make it work.

“Let’s give her some privacy, Molly. The healers will call us in if he wakes up,” Arthur coaxes his wife out of the room as he gives Hermione one last reassuring smile.

When the door closes behind them, Hermione walks up to the chair Molly was perched at and takes a seat. She moves the chair closer to the bed as she observes Ron in his sleeping state. A tear slips down her face as her hand reaches out to take his. It isn’t cold, but it’s also not as warm as she’s used to.

“Please wake up. You have to wake up,” she pleads, choking back a fresh wave of tears.

I can’t find you in the dark

Will we get back to who we are?

And I can’t fix this on my own

Our love is still the best thing I’ve ever known

She’s not sure how long she sits there, watching his chest slowly rise and fall as he breathes. No matter how hard she tries, Hermione can’t look away, for fear that his breathing might stop if she does. She’s so focused on his chest, that she doesn’t see his eyes flutter open. 

“Er-my-nee.” 

His voice is breathy, with more rasp than she’s used to, but she’d have given all the gold in her Gringotts vault to hear her name on his lips again if she had to. He lifts the hand that she’s holding, and Hermione leans in closer to press her face into it.

“You came,” he whispers.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she lifts off the seat and leans over him, capturing his lips with hers. They’re cracked and dry, no doubt from being undercover in who knows what kind of conditions, but none of that matters. Ron’s alive, and he’s kissing her back.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m so sorry.” The apology seems frail as she mutters the words against his lips.

His other hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and wipe the tears from her face. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t ever do something that stupid again.”

“Only if you give me a reason not to.”

Let the broken pieces go

Just hold on to each other tonight

“I will, I promise.”

She pulls away to look into his tired, bright blue eyes that carry the hope she feels in her chest.

“Does that mean…?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know what life is going to throw at me, Ron, but I only want to take it if you’re by my side.”

“It’s about time you came to your senses.”

The hand that’s still cupping her cheek adjusts to pull her back to him as he does his best to crash his lips into hers for a searing, though still tender, kiss. His breath is hot as he groans against her mouth, solidifying their reunification. There’s an unspoken agreement to let the broken pieces of the past go. 

Tonight, they’ll start over, rewriting the stars to match their love story the way it’s meant to be.

[thekinghazzastyles]

Black Lake // Remus Lupin x Slytherin Reader

Pairings: Young!Remus Lupin x Slytherin Fem!Reader Warnings: None Word Count: 2175 Time Period: Marauders Era Summary: Remus wants to introduce his girlfriend to his friends but it doesn’t go very well.  Requested: No Authors Note: I hope you enjoy!

Harry Potter Masterlist        Masterlist

You and Remus had been dating for almost a year. You both kept it private for the sake of not being judged. More so you because you’re in Slytherin. Slytherins and Gryffindors don’t date, they aren’t friends, they don’t like one another. But you and Remus didn’t care about the stereotypes forced upon your houses.

“Do you want to tell people about us?” Remus asked. You were both in the Room of Requirement. It was in a library form but filled with muggle books and a small rustic table with a pot of tea on top. There was a couch in the far corner of the room, it looked a little worn down but it was rather comfortable. You had taken a small nap but Remus wasn’t tired so he just stayed awakened to make sure you were always comfortable.

“What do you mean? Like, tell your friends?” You were timid for a Slytherin but, proud of your house. You knew how people from every house would react to you dating Remus. You were more intimidated by his friends' opinions. The Marauders were ruthless with everything they did. The entire house of Slytherin was already mostly on the receiving end of their pranks, bullying, and belittling; but to be singled out by Black and Potter was something you would most definitely not enjoy.

“No, I mean everyone, the whole school. I know you think my friends will do something to you but they won't. I promise.”

“I trust you, but how do you know they won’t? What if they think I’m not good enough for you?”

Remus has never seen or heard you talk so down about yourself. “You are enough for me Y/N, if anything I’m not enough for you,” you were going to cut him off but he stopped you. “You know me and my biggest secret, and after knowing it you still wanted to date me.”

You finally cut him off, “Remus John Lupin I swear on Salazar Slytherin's grave that if you talk about yourself in such a  manner one more time, I will hex you into oblivion. You are perfect, everything about you is perfect. I love everything about you, even if you don’t,” you finished.

“Now I never said I wasn’t perfect,” he smirked.

“Remus!” you laughed.  

“Really though, I want to tell everyone.” You both stared at each other before you nodded, “let’s just let everyone find out on their own, the news will spread quickly.”

* * *

Not a single one of your classes before lunch included Remus, so usually, you would both sneak away sometime during lunch to catch up. Now you’d be able to go up to him anytime you want without caring about anybody seeing. Sneaking away to somewhere private at Hogwarts during lunch had to be the most impossible thing you had ever done.

You had been in the library during your free period looking for nothing in particular. You did, however, find a muggle romance novel you had never read before. Pride and Prejudice seemed like it could be a piece of literature both you and Remus would enjoy. Also decided that this would be one of the best ways to reveal your relationship to the school, you were going to ask him if he wanted to go to your special tree at the Black Lake and read with you.

Briskly you made your way to the Great Hall and straight for the Gryffindor table. You could feel your nerves settling in but you didn’t let your face falter. You approached the table and caught sight of Remus and his friends as they were laughing about something,  not caring if they were irritating the people around them.

The silence in the hall seemed to diminish once you were behind Remus. Potter and Black looked up at you first and they both wore an equally disgusted scowl as they stared you down. “Remus?” you spoke softly, suddenly feeling timid. “I found a new book, do you want to go read it with me?” You failed to maintain eye contact with Remus as you continuously looked down at your feet and the book in your hands.

“What does this snake,” Black seethed, “want with you Moony?” Potter seemed to agree with him but Peter, who was sat next to Remus with Black and Potter on the opposite side, looked like he didn’t feel the need to contribute to this conversation.

Remus stood up and wrapped you in a hug whispering into your ear, “I’ll handle this, promise.” He turned towards his friends, “Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N, Y/N these are my best friends James, Peter, and Sirius.”

The entirety of the Great Hall was waiting for the reaction of ¾ of the Marauders. It was silent. No one spoke for what seemed like an eternity before James spoke up, “can we talk somewhere private?”

* * *

The Room of Requirement has once again aided one of your needs. On the journey there you were dreading the conversation that was about to happen. The five of you had been seated across from each without uttering a word for the past five minutes. You didn’t dare look up at the three boys across from you and kept your eyes trained on yours and Remus’ entangled hands.

“What is happening? How did this,” Sirius gestured at you and Remus, “happen?” Sirius leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He and James seemed to be the most concerned with Remus dating a Slytherin. You were completely harmless but solely because you are a Slytherin, they automatically despised you and everyone else in your house.

“No matter that, why would you let this happen, Moony? A Slytherin? Really?” James stood up abruptly which caused you to jump a little. Remus squeezed your hand to reassure you that he was there. “Are you under a love spell? Is it amortentia?” he turned to Sirius, “I think she has him under a love spell.”

They both began whispering amongst themselves and Peter kept to himself on the couch. You decided it couldn't hurt so you gave him a small smile and he gave you one back. You were pleased that he wasn’t completely against you.

Remus stood up catching everyone's attention, “Prongs, Padfoot, Y/N did not put me under a love spell. She has been my girlfriend for almost a year; I think it would’ve worn off by now. I love her and if you two can’t accept that I don’t think I will speak to you for a while,” he finished sitting back down next to you.

“Remus you can’t do that, they’re your best mates,” you scolded him. You didn’t want him to choose between you and his friends, who had been there with him for a lot longer.

“The snake is right Remus,” Sirius was cut off before he could finish.

“Don’t call her that. She is not a snake, she is my girlfriend and I love her. I didn’t think you two could be so close-minded. And I will not sit here and listen to you two belittle her just based on the robes she is wearing,” he finished as the room went silent. “Come on Y/N, we’re leaving.”

“Remus, wait! We can work this out, mate!” James called for him but you both kept walking. He kept walking until we were at the Black Lake. He was first to sit down and lean against the tree, Remus pulled you down softly to sit between his legs.

“Can you read it for me?” His voice was soft. You didn’t want to bring up what had just happened or the fact that you still had classes to attend because he needed this.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” You could feel his breathing slow down as you lay against his chest. His arm was wrapped around your waist, drawing random shapes on your side. You finished the first chapter and pulled out a bookmark before turning to face Remus. “Remy?” you asked quietly to not disturb him.

“Yes?” he asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I think you should speak to your friends, without me. I don’t want to be the reason you lose your best mates, Rem. They’ve been with you through everything, more times than I can count. You can’t end a six-year-long friendship over me, I won’t let you.”

Remus was quiet as you both sat there. He was playing with the grass when he gave you a slight nod and met your eyes. “I will speak to them. I’m sorry I upset you. And I’m sorry they spoke to you like that.”

“Remus all that matters is that you speak to your friends. I’m fine. I love you,” you finished, hugging him. He said it back and returned the hug. Remus stood up and held his hand out to help you up but gave you another hug.

What the two of you didn’t know is that Sirius and James had used the Cloak of Invisibility. They didn’t expect to see such an interaction. And they didn't expect you to tell Remus that he needed to speak to them. They had no time to dawdle and had to head back to the Gryffindor common room to listen to what Remus had to say.

* * *

Remus briskly made his way to the Gryffindor common room. Before you went your separate ways, he told you he would let you know how it goes. He was nervous to face the rest of the Marauders; maybe not Peter but James and Sirius had a vendetta against the entire house of Slytherin. When he entered the room the two out of the three boys were sitting down listening to James complain and watching him pace about the room. All three heads turned at the sound of the portrait door closing.

“Remus-,” James was cut off.

“I need you to have a seat and listen to what I am about to say.” James took a seat in between Sirius and Peter, waiting for Remus to begin. “Y/N is my girlfriend and I love her. She loves me for who I am, I trust her. I didn’t think you guys would react this way but this is exactly what she said she was scared of. I wish the three of you could just not care that she’s a Slytherin, she’s never done anything remotely evil, she reads and loves pastries.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius started. “We’re sorry,” he emphasized. “We shouldn't have let this get out of hand. We trust you and your decisions, so we should’ve trusted you on this.”

“We shouldn’t have judged her so quickly,” James added.

“She seems nice,” Peter spoke.

“She is,” Remus smiled, “and I hope the four of you can set aside your differences and become friends.”

* * *

You were sitting in the courtyard working on your potions essay when two shadows loomed over you. Your eyes met with Sirius and James. Closing your book and putting away your parchment, you sat up a little bit straighter before speaking, “may I help you?”

“We wanted to apologize,” James spoke. “We shouldn’t have treated you the way we did and assumed you would be bad for Remus.” James kept his head, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

Sirius decided to speak as it seemed that James was finished, “we just want what’s best for him and if that's you, we have to get used to it. I hope we can set our differences aside and be friends.”

“Okay,” was all you said. You didn’t feel the need to scold them for their behavior, that wasn’t your place. The boys both nodded and walked away. You felt more at ease now that they didn’t dislike you. Your eyes strayed on the spot where the two boys had just been standing, not noticing another person who had just sat next to you. Remus watched you for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “They apologized,” you said, turning your head to face him. “I accepted it.”

Remus didn’t respond. You both sat there with your head rested on his shoulder watching as the sun gradually set. He stood up reaching for your hand. You both made your way to the Great Hall and toward the Gryffindor table. You were too tired to protest so you didn’t say anything. Your head was still rested against Remus’ shoulder even when you took your seats in front of the other three Marauders. You gave them a tired smile and they returned it.

Dinner continued rather quietly from your side of the table. Remus and you didn’t bother speaking to one another but silently communicated through facial expressions. He dragged you to the Black Lake for a moment before curfew set in. As you lay on his chest you focused on the way his heart sounded. “I love you,” you whispered.

“And I, you.”

Harry Potter Masterlist        Masterlist

[bookwrm99]

Sweet Dreams pt. 1

So, I've had to switch my medication recently for my anxiety, and it's been a bit rough. I normally have a bit of a problem with nightmares because of stress, but since starting Effexor it's been like... on steroids. One of my ways of coping with my mental health is writing, so I've started working on an Obey Me! series of short fics with each of the brothers comforting an MC who's been suffering from long-term night terrors as a medication side-effect. I debated about whether to post them or not, but ultimately I feel like if they can be comforting reads to someone else in a similar situation to mine, of course I'd want to share them! So, here's part one with Lucifer. Please know this is based on my own personal experiences with my anxiety and medications- mental health isn't one-size-fits-all, and everybody experiences it differently on all fronts. Not everybody will experience anxiety the way MC does in these fics, and that's okay! MC is not meant to be representative of everyone everywhere who has ever dealt with having an anxiety disorder- I personally think such a thing is impossible anyway. That being said, please practice good reader discretion if mental health is a hard topic for you- the last thing I want to do is harm someone else's mental health with my writing. I'll post specific trigger warnings just above the cut, so you'll know exactly what you're getting yourself into before you continue!

Now that the long disclaimer is out of the way... I hope that you enjoy this small fic series, reader! It was cathartic for me to write, and I hope they can bring comfort to others too.

Genre: Comfort with Lucifer x gn!reader (if you squint)

Word Count: 2.2k

TW: Mentions of anxiety and treatments, depictions of anxiety and nightmare aftermath, descriptions of nightmares

Lucifer was worried.

Not that he would admit to it. He was the Avatar of Pride, and as such he had an image to maintain. After all, just because someone fails to reply to text messages and calls- or does something out of their norm, like skipping breakfast- it doesn't necessarily mean there's something dire afoot.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Lucifer tried to school his facial features into something close to neutral as his brothers fretted and discussed (Y/N)'s radio silence, and now their absence at breakfast. Mammon was the first to make a commotion about it, of course, causing the other brothers to slowly voice their own concerns about the resident human exchange student.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's just not like them! We ough'ta check on them. What if they caught some kind of weird human disease and died in their sleep?!" Mammon boomed out, fists clenched and resting on the table as he leaned forward over his plate.

"I highly doubt that, Mammon. I don't know of any human disease with such a quick onset and short incubation period before death. Still, it is a bit worrying. Should we make sure they're alright?" Satan, ever the voice of reason, spoke calmly, looking to the eldest to gauge his reaction to his question.

"Maybe they had a late start? I did suggest a new morning skincare regimen for them; maybe they've taken my advice?" Asmo practically crooned, no doubt preening at the thought of a small success with the exchange student- and probably thinking other impure thoughts related to them getting ready for the day.

"They need to make sure they eat. It's no good trying to learn on an empty stomach," Beel interjected, shaking his head and settling a hand on his stomach, clearly appalled at the thought of enduring that kind of experience.

Lucifer kneaded the small ache that had started to form between his eyes from his brothers' bickering and rapid-fire speculations. A sharp pain lanced through his skull from said place when Mammon brought his closed fists down on the table forcefully, rattling the dishes and forcefully pushing himself and his chair back.

"That's it, I'm checkin' on 'em! If all you guys are gonna do is sit around-"

"Enough, Mammon," Lucifer spoke, commanding the attention of all his brothers. A pregnant silence fell over the room as the Morningstar sighed, casually tossing his linen napkin onto the table beside his empty plate as he calmly pushed his chair back to stand. "I will check on them myself. The rest of you are to go about your days as normal unless you hear otherwise."

A couple of the brothers muttered angrily under their breath, but most seemed satisfied with the decision. Without another word, Lucifer strode from the room, leaving his brothers to clean up and be on their way to RAD.

When Lucifer reached (Y/N)'s room, his superhuman hearing picked up soft sniffles from within, heightening his concern about the human. He rapped his knuckles against the solid wood of the door, calling out their name gently but at a volume where he knew he would be heard. When he didn't hear them stir, and nobody came to the door, he resolved himself to intruding upon a potentially sensitive situation. "(Y/N), I'm coming in."

When he opened the door and took a couple steps across the threshold, he panicked a bit at first, not seeing any sign of (Y/N) in the room. Another small sniff allayed those fears, though, and he closed the door softly behind him, making his way into the space as he looked for the human. He finally found them curled up into a small ball on the floor in a corner of the room, out of sight of the door, their face pressed into their knees as they trembled.

The sight in front of him broke Lucifer's heart. (Y/N) had brought such brightness to his and his brothers' lives, showing them the utmost care and showering them with love they hadn't realized they were starved for. To see them like this- shaking with pent-up sobs and white knuckles as they squeezed their hands into fists- was a blow directly to the eldest's normally ice-cold heart.

"(Y/N)," he breathed, slowly approaching as if he was walking towards a frightened, injured fawn. His entire presence softened as he got down on one knee beside the upset exchange student, fighting the overwhelming urge to gently turn their face to his or pull them into his arms. "What's happened?"

(Y/N) shook their head, their arms tightening around their knees. "It's stupid. I'll be fine. Please don't worry about me- I'll be down for breakfast soon."

Lucifer's face pulled down into an even deeper frown at their words, bothered that they were so quick to invalidate themself and push comfort away. "Well- that's why I'm here. Breakfast was over an hour ago, and my brothers are worried about you."

(Y/N)'s head shot up at that, and for the first time Lucifer got a good look at their flushed, tear-stained face. "God- I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to worry anybody- I'm such a burden-"

Lucifer made hushing noises, and unable to restrain himself anymore he sat fully on the ground, pulling the human into his arms as they hiccupped and began to sob. When they didn't push him away and began leaning into him, he tightened his hold, rubbing small circles into their lower back as their tears soaked his left shoulder, all the while murmuring soothing words in their ear. After what seemed like a small slice of eternity, but what in reality may have only been fifteen minutes or half of an hour, the exchange student's tears slowed, then stopped altogether, though silent sobs continued to wrack their smaller frame.

Lucifer lifted his head from where he had rested it on top of theirs, leaning back slightly to see their face as he gently tilted it towards him. Red eyes looked back at him, glazed with exhaustion and something else he couldn't quite pinpoint. Reaching up with a gloved hand, he gently cupped their face in the palm of his hand, wiping away the tears he could reach with his thumb.

"You aren't a burden, (Y/N). You go out of your way for myself and my brothers, doing things nobody asked of you to lift us up and make our lives easier. We've needed somebody like you for a long time now, and if anything we are a burden on you. We worry about you because we care." Lucifer broke the silence, his voice gentle but leaving no room for argument. "I won't push you into telling me what's wrong... but if you would like to talk about it, I promise I will do everything in my power to make things right."

Their eyes wavered, then shifted to the side, a frown continuing to mar their beautiful face. "Lu, I... it means a lot to me for you to say something like that. I just... I don't think there is anything you can do, or anybody for that matter, and not for lack of wanting to."

(Y/N) paused for breath, and Lucifer waited, sensing their internal debate about disclosing their struggle to him. Finally, they sighed, sagging against him as if all the strength had just left their body. "You saw my file," they said flatly, their head against his chest. Lucifer tightened his hold around them once again, pressing his face to the crown of their head and making a small sound of affirmation.

"Did it say anything about my anxiety disorder?"

Lucifer paused. Yes, he had noted that there was a mental health condition in their profile- generalized anxiety, with therapist notes stating it had a strong social skew- but it had never come up in conversation with (Y/N) before, and with how bright and happy they usually were, he thought they might be in remission- either that, or managing it extremely well.

(Y/N) continued on before he could answer them. "Barbatos has been making sure I have my medication- which is great, since of all the SSRIs I've tried it's the only one that seems to help level me out. But, the bad thing is... my doctor didn't tell me that a lot of people experience nightmares while on it, and ever since I've started it, it seems like I'm having them almost every single night." They paused for breath, their entire body tensing up, and Lucifer began to soothingly stroke their bicep with his thumb, where his hand had settled after they shifted. "Most of the time they're really vivid and... weird? Like, I had a nightmare a few nights ago that I was leading an expedition into the far North back in the human realm, and just as we were about to reach an Inuit settlement I got lured over the side of the boat by sea monsters and drowned... which has absolutely no relevance to my life experience. Obviously. But in the moment they're so scary-" They shuddered, then continued, almost as if they couldn't stop themself now that they had started speaking. "And then other times they're those really vague ones- like, running away from something through a deep forest at night, and suddenly you're falling off a cliff. But then there's, like, maybe 25% of them that actually are relevant to me- some of the worst periods and moments of my life- and those-" They almost choked on their words at the end, and Lucifer squeezed gently, worried they might start crying again.

When they stayed silent, Lucifer spoke. "How long has this been going on?"

There was a pause before the human answered, as if they knew he wouldn't be happy. "Since before I was brought here."

Lucifer was shocked. The exchange student had been here for several months already, and he was only just now hearing about this? Another pang lanced through his heart, wondering how many other mornings they had spent like this, and he deeply regretted the thought of them spending so many nights tortured by their own mind, all alone.

"You should have come to me sooner, (Y/N). You didn't have to suffer in silence." Lucifer's tone softened the words, and he again leaned back to get a look at the expression on the exchange student's face.

"I didn't want to be- troublesome. All your brothers have their own commitments and things they do, and you especially have so much on your plate. I didn't want to disrespect anybody's time."

Just when Lucifer thought things couldn't get worse, they did. He could hear their fear of being a burden, even with their carefully chosen words. The exchange student had put themself through months of agony, all because they hadn't wanted to trouble him. The revelation deeply disturbed him. A handful of months was nothing in a demon's life, just a blip, but for a human? That was a very long time.

"You are incredibly important, to all of us. Your struggles are never a waste of our time, even if you feel they're insignificant." Lucifer spoke firmly, trying to put every ounce of the conviction he felt into his voice. He reached up again to gently turn the human's face towards him, meeting their eyes with his own crimson ones. "Please, don't put yourself through something like this again. If I can bring even a small amount of the comfort you've brought me back to you, I would move the heavens to do it. Promise me."

Their eyes glimmered, and their bottom lip trembled. "I promise," they almost whispered, their voice choked up.

Lucifer impulsively brought his face closer to theirs, softly placing a chaste kiss on their forehead. The exchange student sniffled, bringing their hands up to wipe at their face.

"I will talk to Solomon and Satan about any potions they might know of to combat your nightmares. In the meantime, please come find me in the event that they wake you up in the middle of the night. I'm no stranger to night terrors."

When they acquiesced, he smiled, satisfied. "Now, get dressed. I'm informing Lord Diavolo that we're taking a personal day off- no buts." He spoke, already seeing the protest in their eyes and on their lips, which had parted on the start of a word. "We'll do whatever you want. My treat."

Their brows furrowed. "Won't you get in trouble?"

Lucifer stood, bringing (Y/N) up with him. "Not if I'm doing it for the exchange student's benefit. I'll give you ten minutes while I make the call." The softness the Morningstar had displayed was now gone, replaced with his usual composure as he began walking towards the door, fishing his D.D.D. out of his pocket as he moved.

"Lu?"

He paused at the door, turning back to look at the human. Their eyes were glimmering in the dim light of the room, arms wrapped around their waist. Lucifer thought they were about to cry again until he recognized the sheer gratitude in their expression.

"Thank you, for this- and for everything."

Lucifer showed a soft smile, just for them. "Anything for you, (Y/N)."

[pwarkluv]

❝ let me adore you ❞ - hrj

huang renjun x reader | fluff | 1.8k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, slight angst if you look hard enough, college au, friends to lovers au, non-idol au, like one curse word (in the story and in the author’s note so does that make it two?), mutual pining lol, unbelievably fluffy, whipped!renjun, artist!renjun, oblivious!reader and lowkey oblivious!renjun because would it be a f2l without that?

SUMMARY | when you’re his perfect model and the girl he’s been crushing on for the past three years but we don’t talk about that.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by “adore you” by harry styles. i thought this would fit for this idea hehe :P but don’t get me wrong, renjun would be a little shit as your best friend (even though he loves likes you) but there are moments where he absolutely adores you such as this.

you were completely engrossed into the book you were reading, head laying on renjun’s lap as you two settled on his bed in his college dorm. one hand was softly caressing your head while the other held a pencil in his hand, sketching the finer details of the model he’s sketching.

his model.

his fingers rushed to capture each expression, nose scrunch, and gasp you took as the plot progressed, shocked at the turn of events in the storyline.

❝ i get so lost inside your eyes, would you believe it❞

the way your eyes scanned each line, the vibrant color it held, and the fire behind it as you approached the climax of the story. renjun was mesmerized. 

your eyes were one of the hardest things for renjun to draw accurately, for he never liked how it looked. he just always thought that it never looked right.

however whenever he shows you one of the (many) portraits he’s made of you, you’d always reassure him saying it was a literal copy of your face which somewhat eases his worries. 

renjun couldn’t tell when he first fell for his best friend.

ironic isn’t it?

the lonely art kid just so happens to fall for the only girl he’s ever been friends with, the only girl he’s ever felt so at home with. just one day he woke up and saw you only to realize you were his whole world.

it was a little scary to be honest. he has never felt anything like this for anybody before. yeah there was the love he felt for his handful of friends, the love he felt for his parents, the love he felt for art.

but his love for you? it was a much stronger and intense feeling than his love for all those things. in his heart, you were everything.

❝ you don’t have to say you love me, you don’t have to say nothing ❞

but he couldn’t tell if you liked him back, let alone love him.

he couldn’t tell if the way you held his hand in your sleep whenever he drives you two back home from the school library, was something platonic or was your way of showing your feelings towards him.

he couldn’t tell if the fond look he sometimes catches you give him whenever he laughs was because he was your best friend or because you genuinely loved his laugh.

he couldn’t tell if the reason you always act a little distant whenever you spot him talking to the girl he’s tutoring was because you were jealous or something else. 

and it killed him not knowing. it killed him having to act like some platonic close best friend when all he wants to do is kiss you.

❝ you don’t have to say you’re mine ❞

you’ve had a crush on renjun even before you two became friends.

you remember seeing him back at your high school, always in towards the back of his friend group. you remember how ethereal he looked whenever he was focused on one of his drawings, his tongue poking out a bit as he struggled to perfect a small detail.

you remember the day you became friends, how flustered both of you were. for him it was because he was talking to a girl and for you, it was because you were talking to the boy you’ve been staring at for the past eight months.

you weren’t watching where you were going and bumped into renjun, his hot coffee spilling all over your chest and lowkey leaving a small burn. his eyes widened in shock before becoming an apologizing mess. from then you guys hit it off. 

you two then graduated and surprisingly went to the same college where you were now as best friends. 

best friend

the two words sounded bitter in your mind and you hated knowing he wasn’t yours. you hated knowing he might fall for another girl and then he won’t be around you as much. you hated it.

but what you hated the most was not knowing how he felt. much like renjun (though you don’t know that), you could never tell if the sweet gestures were because he was your best friend or because he liked you. 

you tried being obvious. you always hold his hand whenever he sleeps over, you always make sure he sees you staring at his beautiful face at least once or twice a week (you’re not that bold), you always try to make it known how painfully jealous you were whenever you saw him and that girl talking in the halls.

does he buy your favorite snack every morning before you meet up to walk to school because you were that good of friends or because he felt something for you?

does he call you beautiful whenever he draws you as a friend or as a lover?

does he always cuddle with you during your annual friday movie nights as a platonic thing or because he liked the feeling of you being in his arms. you sure did. being in his embrace, all snuggled up was what made you feel at home. 

❝ honey, i’d walk through fire for you ❞

renjun then focused on your lips, his favorite thing about you as a person and his favorite thing to draw. whether it be portraits of you or just your lips in general, it always made an appearance in his sketchbook.

renjun dreams of them, wanting to know how they felt against his. wanting to know if they were really as soft as they looked, wanting to know what your cherry lip balm taste like. 

his heart quadrupled in size as he watched you pout, clearly reading the sad part of your book. renjun had to stop himself from chuckling a bit to not disturb you, to not disturb the beauty. his hand was still running through your hair and you hummed a bit, leaning into his touch to let him know it felt nice. 

renjun forced himself to look away, trying to not go red at how adorable you were. blinking rapidly, he focused his attention back to his drawing in an attempt to sketch out the layout of your mouth.

he was doing well until all of a sudden he heard a sniffle.

“y/n are you oka-”

you bursted out in tears, quickly sitting up from your position as renjun panicked.

he cupped your face in his hands, worry evident in his look as he saw the tears flowing down your cheeks.

“y/n, baby, are you okay? what happened?” renjun asked worryingly, his drawing long forgotten on the other side of his bed.

you shook your head and pushed it towards the crook of his neck, finding comfort in it. renjun forced his heart to beat normally as he focused his attention on you.

not knowing what to say he immediately wraps one arm around your waist and the other on your hair as he pushes you to sit on his lap, letting you cry out whatever the hell just happened. his hand soothingly stroked your hair, wanting you to calm down.

so you cried. you cried for a good five minutes on renjun’s lap, wanting nothing more than his warmth and loving embrace as your mind thought about the ending of that book.

after you let it out, you quickly felt embarrassed and turned red as you lifted your head from his neck, not wanting to look at the clearly worried boy you’re sitting on.

you pushed yourself out of his lap but his firm grip on your waist kept you in place. you already knew he was gonna demand some answers as you placed your hands on your face in an attempt to hide yourself.

“are you good? you had me very worried over there.” renjun’s free hand went to move your hands from your face as you fought back, chuckling a bit at how red you’ve gotten.

you whined a bit as an answer, wanting nothing more than to disappear off the face of the earth. you literally just had a mental breakdown over the ending of a book in front of the dude you’ve liked since your second year of high school.

“y/nnie that’s not an answer~” renjun teased, happy to see the tears no longer on your face.

though he didn’t show it, his heart broke at your sad expression and malfunctioned a bit, not knowing what to do. he only hugged you and stroked your hair because that’s what he saw in those soap dramas he and his grandmother used to watch as a kid. 

his hand went up to your face again, successfully removing your hands. “now tell me what’s wrong princess.”

renjun didn’t know where this sudden confidence came from, calling you two nicknames in the span of ten minutes. but seeing you flush in response all the more fueled it.

your heart sped up at the nickname but you cleared your throat as you whined a bit.

“but you’ll laugh at me junnie!” you pouted, poking back at him by calling him a nickname as well.

renjun’s eyes widened at the sudden jab but laughed it off because of your cute pout. your lips were all he could think about.

now’s not the time renjun, he mentally scolded himself as he reassured you he wouldn’t laugh.

your glossy eyes met his as you explained.

“he fucking died jun, he died!” you cried out, face going back to his neck as renjun stiffened in shock.

you were crying because a character died?

he couldn’t help but laugh as his arms came back to your waist to engulf you in a hug, laying you both down a bit as he laughed.

you could feel the vibrations of his laugh since you were on his chest which caused you to hit him on the arm in embarrassment. 

“you’re so mean to me.” you huffed, refusing to look at the boy you were on. you once again attempted to get off his lap but renjun was quick to tickle you as a defense.

“it’s cause you’re too cute y/n!” he chuckled as you squirmed on his bed, laugh talking and begging him to show mercy on you.

“renjunnie no no i’m sorry!” you laughed out as you wiggled on the foot of the bed, arms failing at protecting your middle from renjun’s evil fingers. 

the boy looked at you with an evil glint as he continued to tickle you, watching in amusement at your feeble attempts to stop him.

you suddenly pulled him down, causing him to land right in front of you, his arms keeping him stable from falling on your face. 

you two froze, lost in each other’s eyes. the close proximity between you the two of you both made your hearts race and in the spur of the moment renjun asked, “can i kiss you?”

❝ just let me adore you ❞

you nodded and leaned up a bit to meet him in the middle as renjun finally learned the answers to all his questions. 

for your information, yes your lips were as soft as he thought. 

[youngreckless]

Drarry Eighth Year Fic Recs ✨🌈

note: all of these are hogwarts eighth year drarry fics!

The Fifth Floor at Midnight by hopelocklet

(1.8k, General)

When Harry is watching the Marauder's Map late at night, he sees Malfoy's name in a part of Hogwarts he doesn't recognize. It's on the fifth floor, the Fine Arts floor. Now Harry is practically desperate to find out what in Merlin's name Malfoy is doing on the fifth floor - alone - at midnight.

Oh You Pretty Things by JulietsEmoPhase

(1.8k, Mature)

Draco and Harry have a drunken heart to heart listening to David Bowie.

In Need of a Proper Hug by Faith Wood (faithwood)

(2k, Mature)

Draco rescues a poor, poor koala, which won't stop hugging him.

Moonlit Revelations by JulietsEmoPhase

(4.2k, Teen & up)

When Harry returns for his Eighth Year at Hogwarts, he quickly suspects Draco Malfoy is up to something again.

Operation: S.M.W.L.N.T.E.T.H.S.P by XxTheDarkLordxX

(8.1k, Teen & up)

Typically, notes from admirers would bring smiles to one's face or even lift their mood. It might make their day or even their week. It was a sign of a romantic at heart and even considered sweet.

However, Draco Malfoy doesn't do sweet. If he got one more note saying he looked radiant or beautiful, he was going to kill someone. Literally. His secret admirer better stay a secret before he cursed them into oblivion... right after he figured out how to stop blushing.

The Mysteriously Appearing Mistletoe by MystyVander

(9.6k, Explicit)

The mysteriously appearing, vindictive and mischievous mistletoe is forcing everybody in Hogwarts to kiss whomever it lands above. Nobody can figure out how to rid the school of the informally named 'M'am' but eventually the particular mistletoe falls on top of the heads of the schools old rivals, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. What happens next is anybody's guess!

In the Interest of Interhouse Cooperation by firethesound

(11k, Explicit)

Organizing a Duelling Club was supposed to be a fun extracurricular activity for Harry’s 8th year. But add in Draco Malfoy and a malfunctioning Room of Requirement, and things can’t help but get complicated.

The Difference Between a Cat and a Comma, Or, The One Where McGonagall Has Sass by shilo1364

(18k, Teen & up)

Eighth year at Hogwarts is going to be boring. That's what Draco Malfoy thinks when the Wizengamot makes attendance a condition of his pardon. After all, after letting Death Eaters into the school, failing to kill his headmaster, and being forced to serve a homicidal madman, how could finishing up his education *possibly* be interesting?

Answer: a coveted Transfigurations advanced study position, Minerva Mcgonagall's surprising fondness for him, Thestrals, tea with Hagrid, tutoring Harry Potter, Granger and Weasley's excessive PDA, and the perplexing nature of sleight-of-hand double-dates with Harry, Luna, and Ginny. And then, of course, there's righteously indignant (if misinformed) Weasley, Draco's own insecurities and flair for dramatics, and a long-suffering Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Don’t mind if I keep your tie (And your heart, babe) by Ingi

(21k, General)

The Eighth year common room has a parrot in it, courtesy of McGonagall and her mad search for interhouse bonding.

Most of the time, it's just there, until one day it repeats "Potter has a damn fine arse." And the Slytherins know exactly who the parrot's mimicking...

Draco is not amused.

An Issue of Consequence by Faith Wood (faithwood)

(21k, Explicit)

Draco has woken up in an alternate universe. Or he has woken up utterly insane. Nothing else can possibly explain why Harry Potter suddenly seems to think he's Draco's boyfriend.

Harmonised Consciousness by Talizora

(24k, Explicit)

"Potter's spell is still active, but I can shield my thoughts from him. I've been stirring him up all afternoon! It's hysterical!"

Blaise gasped, "It's still active! But it's… Dinner time!"

"Yes, so?"

"S-so? That spell is supposed to cancel itself after an hour! It's been, almost four hours!"

Draco shrugged, "I'm not worried. It's probably due to Potters magic. I'm sure it'll time-out eventually."

Blaise frowned, "Draco I don't think this is a good idea. Maybe you should end the spell?"

"No way! Blaise! I can hear everything! Before, in Runes, Potter was ranting about how he wanted to kill Weasel and Trelawney! He's all over the place! I had no idea he had such homicidal tendencies!" Draco giggled.

One of Blaise's eyebrows rose, "…Draco? Did you just giggle?"

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

A Dented Old Street Sign by orphanghost

(27k, Mature)

Draco knows they aren't the only students who will be completing their NEWTs this year, but they are the only ones whose home fireplaces were disconnected from the floo network by the ministry.

At least, Draco assumes as much until he sees the light falling out from the front door of one of the other rickety old houses in front of them and the three figures cast in its warm glow. For a moment they look like some sort of strange, many legged creature. An acromantula, or a particularly massive Blast-Ended Skrewt. Then Draco hears Pansy make a disgusted sound beside him and the light falls in a less blinding way, and Draco can see that it is actually Potter and the Weasel carrying a large couch between them, and Granger fluttering around them with her wand out, seeming concerned.

Draco Malfoy and the Year He Kept Getting Hexed by iamaghost

(43k, Explicit)

Draco is just trying to get through his eighth year at Hogwarts without getting hexed. Again.

The Standard You Walk Past by bafflinghaze

(46k, Mature)

On returning to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year, Headmistress McGonagall decided to room Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter together. She may have hoped for a leading example of house unity; the other students fully expected insults and fights. But nothing happened.

That was, until Harry sleepwalked into Draco’s bed.

Right Hand Red by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)

(73k, Explicit)

Harry felt Malfoy's breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory.

Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy.

Malfoy felt inevitable.

Azoth by zeitgeistic

(88k, Explicit)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Things Worth Knowing by Femme (femmequixotic), noeon (noe)

(164k, Explicit)

After the Battle, Harry thinks he's left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco's just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He's hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems. Unfortunately for him, Potter appears to be one of those problems. And that's not even addressing the fact that Potter's got serious issues of his own, which Draco realises as he's forced to share an Eighth Year dormitory room and several classes with the Gryffindor Git. If only they can make it through the year without killing each other, it should be all right, shouldn't it?

[kj-1130]

Listen to Me

Uswnt x reader

⚠️mentions of fighting/violence, cursing, Chad being an asshole, mentions of racism, homophobia, and sexism. Lemme know if there’s more I missed.⚠️

Main Masterlist

It was time for another camp. You were the last to arrive due to still being in school and having to be there as many hours as you possibly could.

So here you were in the airport walking towards a pissed off Alex Morgan and Christen Press.

The day before your flight to camp, you had gotten into trouble. Trouble meaning you got into a fight. And word got to your teammates.

“Hello my favorite, most amazing people in the whole wide world.”

Alex simply rolled her eyes and grabbed your suitcase before walking towards the exit with you and Christen trailing behind.

You lowered your gaze to the terminal floor. Christen tried to catch your eyes but ultimately failed and decided just to look straight forward as she talked.

“You know, you shouldn’t resort to violence, (y/n). I don’t know what happened but everyone’s pretty upset and disappointed right now.”

Ouch. The disappointment card. Just had to pull that one like you haven’t heard it just about everyday of your life. You were honestly confused if people were actually disappointed when they said it or just used it as a guilt trip.

The ride to the hotel was full of silence. And not one of those silences where you feel comfortable with the people you adore and love. It was one of those silences where it made you nervous and anxious. It made you fidget and uncomfortable.

Getting your room assignment, being with Tierna, you tried to book it up the stairs. That worked for all of five seconds until you were called into the meeting room.

You reluctantly stepped down and made your way to the space and left your suitcase by the door. In the room were almost all the responsible/‘scary when they want to be’ ones. Sitting down in a chair with a sigh, you looked down at your fidgeting hands and waited for someone to start talking.

The silence that filled the room was very tense. All that could be heard was the movement of your hands and breathing.

When you thought things couldn’t get any worse, the most mama-bear of them all, Carli, spoke up.

“You know you can lose your spot for stuff like this right? You got into a fight, this is not something you need to be taking lightly at all. I don’t care what caused it, but you need to fix whatever’s going on with your behavior and attitude because you’ve been off for the past few weeks anyway. If something like this happens again, we won’t hesitate to take some disciplinary actions ourselves. Am I clear, (y/n)?”

You mumbled ‘crystal’ and attempted to leave the room only to get pulled down by Ash. “Now do you wanna tell us what started the fight?”

You were honestly getting really uncomfortable. Any movement you were making at the moment was probably the only thing keeping you from breaking right now; the furrowing of your eyebrows, the rolling of your shoulders, scratching your arms, bouncing your leg. You probably looked crazy.

You shrugged your shoulders and started spinning in your chair.

Ash put her hand on it and prohibited it from being able to move. “That was not a suggestion.”

Sighing and dragging your hands over your face you told them, “A boy knocked books out of my hands and pushed me so I pushed him back. He didn’t like that so he threw the first punch and I wasn’t about to let him push me around so I beat his ass.”

It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the full truth. Yes he did push you. And yes he did hit you first. But there was so much more to the situation than that.

“Look I’m tired and I have work I need to do. If you want to scold me anymore, just please save it for tomorrow.”

Honestly you had never run up stairs so fast. The situation was so awkward and the way everyone was staring at you didn’t make anything better. There was so much disappointment in their eyes.

It’s like what you do will never be enough for anyone.

-

The next day everyone came down from breakfast. You went to sleep after 12 due to having work piled up from your asshole teachers. It’s not like they grade half of it anyway.

You still didn’t understand one of the lessons so decided to watch some YouTube videos on it and take notes while eating breakfast. That also gave you an excuse to sit away from anyone who would possibly want to lecture you about your ‘reckless actions’.

You were the last one down. Deciding to already have headphones in—to ignore anyone calling your name—you grabbed your breakfast and sat down at a table by yourself. Pulling your notebook and pencil out, you started the video and took notes while eating.

You could feel their eyes burning holes in your head. You’d honestly prefer they just come ask what they wanted than staring at you like some museum exhibit.

You just ignored it and did your work. That was easier said than done as Casey came over, sat next to you, and snatched your earphones out.

“Hey!” You scrambled to pause the video so you didn’t miss anything. “I was watching that.”

Turning to Casey, you pushed your glasses up and gave her a look that said ‘can I help you?’

“Don’t give me that face. I’m not the one you need to be having an attitude with.”

“I-I don’t have an attitude though.”

“Stop talking.”

You purse your lips, nod your head, and start bouncing your leg waiting to hear whatever she wanted to say to you.

“Look, I don’t know what’s been going on at school or at home but everyone can tell you’re on edge. Isolating yourself isn’t going to help anyone-”

“But I’m not isolating myself.”

“Interrupt me one more time, child.”

Casey was your first team mom. When you joined the red stars, she immediately took you under her wing and she became your mentor. The two of you worked well together and she constantly kept you on track. She was very nice but could be very strict when she wanted to be.

“All I’m saying is you’re making yourself look more guilty to them because you’re sitting over here looking like you’re all up in your feelings. You aren’t in your feelings. Right? Cause that’d be another conversation I’d have to have with somebody’s child and-”

You cut her off with your chuckle and shook your head. “Casey, I’m fine.”

She nods her head and contemplates for a few seconds, “Alright, come sit at the table with me then.”

“But I’m working.”

“Okay. You can work over there too.”

You simply watched as she grabbed your phone, notebook and breakfast to the table with a gaped mouth.

You blinked at her while she mouthed ‘come here’. Reluctantly, you pushed yourself out the seat and slowly made your way over. You sat down and reached out for your phone only for Casey to snatch it away.

“I need to do my work. What did you do that for?”

“Your work can wait. Socialize,” she said while putting your phone out of work.

With raised eyebrows you said, “Seriously?”

“Does it look like I’m kidding?”

Huffing you turned in your seat and played with your food. You’d honestly lost your appetite this morning; it was only 9 in the morning and people were already testing your patience.

You looked up and your eyes locked with Carli’s.

“Stop playing with your food, (y/n).”

You put your fork down and just got up to throw your food away. You couldn’t deal with this right now.

-

The two weeks of camp was boring and went by agonizingly slow. It consisted of pretty much the same routine; you’d do work after training, work during breakfast and spend any free days or breaks by yourself (occasionally with Tierna) in your room, on your phone looking at ways to improve and tricks to do.

It became annoying when all the vets constantly reprimanded you for the smallest of things. With Carli, it’d be ‘stop playing around so much’. With Alex it’d be ‘pick up after yourself’. Even Kelley was doing it for fuck’s sake.

You honestly couldn’t wait to leave and at least be somewhere where all the attention isn’t on you.

-

When you got to the airport, your girlfriend was there waiting for you. She pulled you in her arms and any leftover tension from the past two weeks immediately went away. She always knew how to make you feel better.

The two of you drove to her house and went over some school work before going to bed for the night. It wasn’t an unusual routine between you two.

When the alarm went off in the morning both of you groaned. The school you went to was a total pain in the ass and regardless of what day it was, you could count on it to be an awful day. It was a predominately white school with only 2 percent being a person of color; you and your girlfriend being part of that 2%. Half of them were racist, sexist, homophobic, and just all around assholes.

Walking into the school building, you could immediately feel all eyes on you. Trying to get past it, the two of you just went to your lockers with your heads down.

“Aye! Look at me you freak!”

It was the same dude you got into a fight with last time(his name is Chad by the way). Apparently a black eye didn’t teach him shit.

“When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it.”

He grabs your shoulders, turns you around and pins you to the lockers.

“You see my eye?”

“Yeah, you got your ass beat by a girl. What you gonna do about it?”

He punched you in the stomach hard.

“(Y/n)!” Your girlfriend. You looked up at her and shook your head signaling her not to get involved.

“Ima make you look worse than you made me-”

“Are you sure about that? Last time you failed, what makes you think it won’t happen again?”

Chad chuckles and shakes his head.

“You think you’re all that with that equal pay shit, and your racial equality and women loving women crap. Guess what you little bitch I’m going to end you and all those lesbians and gays and anybody else who thinks they deserve equality because you don’t. You don’t belong here. Just go kill-”

You kicked him in his balls, twisted his arm behind his back, and pulled it. When you heard that crack you smirked and leaned down to his ear.

“I don’t wanna embarrass you in front of your racist, sexist, homophobic, buddies, but lemme tell you. You don’t own anybody nor are you superior to anybody. Do I make myself clear?”

He only grunted but you pulled tighter which made him yell out.

“I said, ‘do I make myself clear’?”

“Yes!”

You pushed him on the ground and walked over him to your girlfriend.

“Why in the world would do that? You know what they’re going to do to you. You might not even get invited back to camp!”

“Babe, calm down. I honestly don’t care at this point. And neither should you.”

“(Y/n) (L/n)! My office! Now!”

You gave her a kiss and walked away slowly.

“Wish me luck.”

-

“You seriously got into another fight! What is going on with you!”

It was the first thing you heard when walking into the hotel lobby. Literally everyone was there. From the youngings to the vets. Surprisingly, you were called back to camp, but you honestly think it was just so everyone could scold you. Carli was absolutely livid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything at the moment since you were so pissed.

Walking past the team, you attempted to make it to the stairs, only for Casey to grab the back of your shirt and pull you back towards the tables. She pushed you down into a seat and took your belongings away from you.

You tried to get back up but you were only pushed down again.

Carli bent down and stared you dead in the eye.

“What is going on with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. What I did was what I intended to do. It was no mistake.”

Alex interrupted, “(Y/n), you don’t understand-”

“No you don’t understand!” You stood abruptly from the chair and slammed your hands on the table. The chair fell and it was absolute silence.

You’d never been so loud. You were always on the quiet side and this was the biggest reaction anyone had ever seen from you.

You were heavily breathing, staring at Carli, the adrenaline pumping through you.

“Did they tell you what he did to me?! Did they tell you what he calls me, my girlfriend and every other female, lgbtq member, or person of color in that school?! No! Because they don’t give a shit. And they won’t give a shit until it’s one of their kids getting hurt!”

There was no dry eye in the room. Your hands were shaking and you took a deep breath to calm down. In a lower voice you spoke.

“They don’t give a damn about my well-being so why should I give a fuck about theirs?”

Taking a few more trembling breaths, you wiped the tears off your face.

“So excuse me for being off for the past few weeks. This shit will take a toll on anybody. And you can cut the bullshit with the ‘don’t fight fire with fire’ cause that’s the only way something gets through those thick ass skulls. They don’t allow you to do it peacefully. They don’t allow you to educate them.”

You looked at Casey with tears in your eyes.

“I just wanna go to school and get an education and be treated like a normal human being. What’s wrong with that?”

Crystal came over to you and caught you before you fell. She lowered you both to the floor as you sobbed your heart out. You kept mumbling ‘I’m sorry’ into her neck between breaths as she rocked you back and forth trying to console you.

Casey and Christen were the next ones over, the latter rubbing your back while the other was trying to wipe away the onslaught of tears on your face.

“Shh, shh baby. You did nothing wrong.”

Soon, every member of the team was crowded around. Tears were streaming down everyone’s face. Their baby, only 16, was going through all this stress and pain. Because of something no one deserves.

You eventually calmed down after 15 more minutes of crying. You’d been transferred to Casey’s lap, and your team mom was trying to comfort you to the best of her ability.

Casey took your face in her hands and wiped all the tears off. “You don’t need to be sorry, alright? There was nothing you did wrong. Stop saying sorry.”

You nodded your head and she kissed your forehead.

Everyone was still crying or wiping waterfalls of tears away.

They watched as you got up and searched frantically for something. You got your phone out of your backpack and turned it on. While you were pacing, the Home Screen popped up and you quickly logged in to text your girlfriend. One, because you always text her when you get to the hotel and two, if Chad and his stickman buddies hurt her, you were absolutely going to lose your shit.

When you logged in to your phone, you saw she already messaged you saying that you should talk to the others.

“Kinda late for that,” you muttered.

“What did you say, hun?” Christen asked.

You just shook your head and texted her back.

Gf: I mean we could always try to talk to the board.

You: Or

You: We could go on strike.

Gf: I-

Gf: I’m done talking to you.

You: wait no! Don’t leave me.

You: I love you

You had a frown on your face when you put your phone away.

Casey pulled you back down into her lap. “What’s with the frown?”

You groaned and threw your head back. “She’s such an asshole. She left me on read!”

The team chuckled, glad to see you was somewhat back to yourself.

Your phone dinged and you pulled it out. She said ‘I love you too, weirdo’

There were a few moments of silence as everyone was thinking of what to do.

“Can we go on strike?”

“No!”

Casey flicked your ear for that.

Tobin spoke up, “Let’s create awareness first. Maybe identify the school board, post all the school’s faults on social media. I don’t know, just some ideas.”

Carli nodded her head. “Look, we’re here for you. For everyone in that school that’s been wronged. We’re gonna help you alright?”

You nodded your head and leaned back onto your team mom.

“And if all else fails, we go on strike.”

“Oh my god.”

—————-

Lowkey think this was trash but eh. I don’t really care at this point but uh this topic is very serious and what I put in here doesn’t even compare to what happens irl.