#fun fact I gave Business those weird spots because I needed him to not be just plain brown

[anonymous-force]

more ponies I drew from my old sketches

[scuttling]

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. ���Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

[ramzawrites]

(Platonic techno x Piglin Hybrid Reader)

Imagine a 7-8 y/o piglin hybrid finds techno's nether portal and out of pure childhood curiosity decides to go through it and ends up in the snow biome. They almost immediately get frostbite and pass out due to living in the nether and usually being warm. Eventually techno finds the child by his nether portal and look's around to see no parents so assumes they are an orphan he goes to pull out his orphan obliterater but the voices get louder telling him to take them home and protect them eventually gives in wraps his cape around them and brings them home to warm them up

(Feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable)

-Anon :)

Kin - Piglin!Child!Reader and Technoblade

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Technoblade, (mentioned) Philza

Warnings: n/a

Series: a request :]

Summary: Y/N was just too curious! This weird black frame with the purple light was surely not there before! Maybe they should look at it a bit further. The light just looked too inviting!

Words count: 3023

Authors Note: My first Techno fic! YO! I really love him alot! He is one of my favorite CCs and also favorite Character in the dsmp :) Wish I found a better way to cut this one off but I had so much fun writing this!

Y/N’s little Piglin hands slowly traveled up the rough Netherrack that they were hiding behind. Grabbing the edge of the rock as their head followed along, their eyes peaking over cautiously.

There was this weird black frame with what looked like a purple pool inside of it. It emitted a rumbling but kind of musical sound that seemed to call out to Y/N. In fact, they only found this weird portal only due to the sounds. Never in their young life have they heard anything like it.

They have only seen something like this here and there whenever their clan moved on from a region but usually those seemed to be broken. The frame only half finished without a light coming out of it. Elders and the adults would always remind them to stay far away from it since apparently it could be dangerous, but Y/n couldn’t understand how.

It just stood there playing its music that seemed to almost call out to the Piglin. Wanting it to get closer and listen to its magical melody.

How could be something so beautiful be considered dangerous?

Taking another look around, Y/N made sure they were alone. Secretly having run off to follow this sound they managed to pick up on. It’s not like their parents would look for them on account that their parents were already dead.

Now the Elders took care of them, but they were usually too busy with clan business to realize when they ran off on their own adventures.

Once again checking that there were no Ghasts or other dangerous mobs around Y/N climbed over the rock. Landing on what looked like a pathway that led to the black frame.

Closer to the structure Y/N took the time to get a good look at the rock that has been used for the frame. It was a deep black and yet it somehow seemed to have a purple shine. If it came from the vortex between or the rock itself Y/N couldn’t tell, nor did they care enough to figure that out. Too amazed by it.

The sound was now really loud, and Y/N could tell that it came definitely from the purple light. It seemed to swirl in of itself almost like liquid and yet it stayed in the air as if it were glass put between the stone.

Mesmerized by it the child slowly put their hand into the light, trying to figure out what the material was.

But the only thing they felt was how cold it felt and it seemingly pulling on them. Trying to pull them deeper in. Scared Y/N immediately pulled their arm away, holding it close to their chest. Warming the cold limb up with their own body and the temperature of the Nether.

They have never felt anything like this. It was interesting. They knew what cold was but never like this. Only having felt an occasional breeze from jumping around or running around and even then, it was nothing compared to what they just felt.

Was this vortex doing this? Was this the purpose? Is this the dangerous part? How?

Y/N was already so incredible curious, but this really spiked their curiosity. What would happen if they just stood in there?

With this question in mind the kid placed one foot in the frame, soon followed by the next. The vortex completely engulfing them. Purple being the only thing they were able to see. This cold feeling immediately hitting them like a brick wall.

With a surprised grunt with how huge the temperature difference was, the child jumped away, hoping to get back to the familiar warmth but as they did the cold didn’t disappear.

The portal was still there but suddenly there was this bright light all around them. White as far as they could see.

Now panicking the child desperately looked around but their body was still dealing with the sudden temperature drop.

The world spinning around making it difficult for them to get a good look at where they were. Darkness crept in at the edges of their vision which they desperately tried to fight against.

Without realizing Y/N crashed onto the white ground which seemed to be even colder than the air around. Sneaking into the thin clothing and prickling at the skin. Their heart beating incredible fast and, in their ears, and yet they suddenly felt so tired.

The coldness that was so uncomfortable before suddenly turning more comfortable. Their breathing calming down as their eyes fell shut. Submerging themself into the world of darkness.

Luckily for Y/N, Technoblade was on his way towards the Netherportal himself. He managed to run out of Blaze Rods and needed to gather more for his potions only to spot something or rather someone lying face down in the snow.

At first, he assumed that for some reason Tommy managed to knock himself out while wandering over for whatever reason but the closer he got the more he noticed that, no, the body was way too small for that.

Also, he was pretty sure the last time he checked Tommy didn’t sport similar pig ears like Techno.

The voices in his head were pretty calm until they realized “Kin? Our kin? Out here? Our or his kin? Is it our kin as well?”

Techno approached the small body. This child was shaking and wet due to the snow. The clothes soaked. How the hell did that child just survive the travel to the Overworld like that? It was more likely that Piglin’s die during that process and end up as just a husk. A zombie if you will.

Not a lot of Piglin are strong enough to survive this magic. Techno should know he almost died when he traveled over and only survived because he had Philza on his side who helped him through it.

Impressive and yet he didn’t particular care.

“Parents? Orphan? Are they an orphan? Oh! Blood for the Blood God? No! Look at them! They are already dying! They must be something special surviving the portal like that! Are they though? Aren’t they dying? More because of the cold than anything! What about their parents?”

Grumbling Techno stepped into the portal himself, ending up in the warm nether. Hoping to still the curiosity of the voices a tiny bit with this. A sense of nostalgia spreading throughout his body and senses as he looked around the red landscape.

The child’s parents have to be around somewhere. Rule number one in the nether for Piglins was to stay together no matter what. It was dangerous in the Nether and the relationship between blood kin was precious. They must be already around here. Picking up on the child’s scent to find them.

And yet. Nothing.

No Piglin, no anyone.

He wandered a bit in, but he didn’t even spot any close group of Piglin’s running around. Weird. Was that child really alone?

“Check on them! Techno! Check on the child! See if they are still there!” the voices yelled out, infuriating the warrior a bit.

“Alright, alright!” he gave in and once again stepped into the portal. The cold hitting him but at this point he was used to this and managed to reacclimatize himself pretty fast. Not immediately and it still took a few minutes, but he didn’t almost pass out every time.

No surprise there. The child was still laying in the snow.

Once again, the voices flared up in his mind. A few demanding blood while others still expressed their curiosity towards this orphan.

Too busy with his own plans and things to do Technoblade took out his sword aptly called “The Orphan Obliterator”. He just wanted to deal with this situation as fast as he could, so he could move on.

Moving the sword up in the air only for the voices in his head to suddenly erupt loudly.

“No! Stop! Do not! Don’t kill! No! Techno! Please!”

This was very much not like their usual behavior. Usually, they would welcome any chance for bloodshed. Calling for it even in situation where it was just inconvenient and unnecessary but now, they don’t want it? Okay, maybe he should listen in to the voices after all.

“What is going on, Chat?” he asked.

And the voices, even if loudly and talking over each other, answered “Save them! Take them with you! They are special! Protect them! They are your kin if you give them the chance! We are sure! A young child able to survive this? Sounds similar to you Techno! Take them with you! Save them! Please! They deserve the chance!”

The problem with Chat was, they sometimes knew more about the world than Techno and it has paid out listening to them, but they also liked to just follow their whim for fun. Though this seemed to be the former. They realized that the child was special and worth saving, even if only in their ,sometimes omnipotent, eyes.

Sighing Technoblade sheathed his netherite sword and pulled off his red cape.

Realizing what Techno was doing, Chat begun cheering. The voices that had demanded blood before now fully drowned out.

Technoblade knelt down and carefully heaved the piglin onto the cape, wrapping it around them. Their body was unsurprisingly incredibly cold. So cold that Techno worried they didn’t have a lot of time left. Well, worry was a strong word perhaps.

Holding the kid close to his chest he got a good look at their face. Their expression scrunched up in what he assumed to be pain. A few light scars on their face. It wasn’t unusual that Piglins sported a few scars but not that young. The parents were usually too protective over their young.

“Must be a real troublemaker, I bet.” He noted.

Scars already at that age and them running through a portal just like that? Yeah, that child must cross the line between brave and stupid a lot. Not that he could fault them. He wasn’t that much different as a child himself, though he would never admit it out loud.

“They are kinda cute! It’s a child. Children do that. What do we do with them? Save them first. Talk to them. Figure out if they have potential! Kin? Kin! We need to talk to Philza. Dadza! Grandza! Oh! Yes! Grandza!”

Techno shook his head, as if that would make the voices shut up “Chat, please. Don’t assume anything. I might just help them out and find a clan for them to get back to. We don’t have the time for a child to be around. Too busy with the Syndicate.”

While Chat wasn’t happy with it, they seemed to be glad enough that Techno was acting against his instincts to help this orphan out. If the others hear that the Technoblade has helped out an orphan, well, he hoped people won’t. Doesn’t want to be seen as a hypocrite and as someone who keeps his words, and threats.

With the kid in his arms, he made his way back towards his cabin. Apparently, the Blaze Rods had to wait after all.

As he walked up the stairs towards his cabin and walked in, he suddenly got very aware he had no idea what to do. Looking around his eyes fell on his fireplace but that somehow seemed dangerous. Probably bad idea to just lay down an unconscious child right next to the fire, right?

Instead, he remembered that he had a spare bed roll sitting around somewhere.

With the cape still wrapped around the little one he pulled out the bed roll and laid them inside the rolled-out bed. While tucking them in he made sure to let a bit breathing room in. Letting their body slowly warm up instead of instantly.

“Food. Food, Techno. Eat. The child as well!”

Ah, yes. What would he do without the voices reminding him to eat?

Normally he would just pop a potato in the furnace but not this time. If he is already cooking, he might as well cook for the both of them. Soup seemed appropriate. Now, if he only remembers the recipe and instructions Philza gave him way back.

Still a tiny bit annoyed he has to put off getting the Blaze Rods, Techno sat down and begun cutting up vegetables and heating up water. Putting the ingredients into the water and putting spice in after tasting it here and there. It definitely wouldn’t be a masterpiece but as long as it not tasted absolutely horrible and still warmed one up from the inside, this should be fine.

The child better not complain after he already went out of his way saving them from the cold. He really should have just killed them so he wouldn’t need to get through this trouble and could actually get work done but Chat really was acting weird.

The cooking process took longer than he expected. Long enough that his own pig ears suddenly heard some noises, groans, coming from behind him. Looking back, he saw how the small Piglin was moving around in the bed. Slowly sitting up. Their eyes still closed.

“You are awake.” He stated in Piglish. Knowing, that they probably couldn’t speak the common tongue of the Overworld.

They opened their eyes but were still squinting. Either in pain or not used to the light yet.

“Where am I? Who are you?” grunts coming out of their mouth that made up Piglish words.

For a second Techno had to hide his smile as he realized that it has been a long while that he spoke with anybody his native tongue.

“You are in the Overworld. In my home to be specific. You are lucky I found you or you would have frozen to death in the snow. Name’s Technoblade by the way.”

It seemed to be difficult for them to wrap their mind around this new information “Overworld? Technoblade?” they repeated as if this would give them more insight.

Not knowing what else to tell them, Techno turned around and begun pouring the soup into a bowl. Walking over to them to give it to them.

A bit wary the child pulled their arms out of the cape that was still wrapped around them. The white fluff tickling the back of their head. It seemed to be an old cape. The fluffy part not being as fluffy as you would have assumed anymore. The fur dirty and strands glued together. Things that just happened over time even if you washed it quite often.

“My, uh, my name is Y/N.” they spoke, grabbing the bowl and looking inside it.

“I’m not poisoning you, you can eat it. Warms you up and once you feel good enough you can get back into the Nether.” He then proceeded to pour himself a bowl and begun sipping it.

It was edible. That was something.

Y/N kept watch as Techno continued to slowly drink the soup out of his own bowl. Drinking some of the food as well, their eyes widened out of pleasant surprise when the soup seemed to warm them up from the inside. Craving more of this warmth they begun gulping the liquid down in seconds.

This place was certainly warmer then when they got out of the portal but it was still cold enough for them to shiver. Where in the world were they? Never have they seen any of these materials around them. Grey cold stone, dark brown wood, white walls decorated with colorful pictures? It seemed almost unreal to them.

“How are you feeling squirt? Good enough to go home yet?” There was a bit of hope in Techno’s voice. The sooner this passed the better in his book.

“Home.” Y/N once again repeated what Techno said only to hold the bowl up towards him. A shy but determined expression on their face.

It took Techno a second before he understood what they wanted “More? More soup?”

The child enthusiastically nodded.

Sighing Techno got up from the chest he was sitting on to refill Y/N’s bowl and as he pushed the warm bowl back into their hand Y/N opened their mouth again “Uh, Overworld? I am in the Overworld? What- What is that?”

“A different world to where you come from. It has hot places and cold places. Different things and different mobs as well. Very different but both places are connected. You came through one of the portals that lead to this place, it also leads back to the Nether. Now, tell me something. I haven’t seen your parents. I was looking for anyone but there was no one. Not even a random group walking around.”

Y/N first slurped more from the soup before they answered “My parents are gone. I live with my clan. I always run off and they get mad at me.”

Techno knelt down to Y/N and softly pressed his hand against their forehead which made Y/N freeze. Scared and confused with what he was doing.

He let out a deep breath, wincing as a few voices begun yelling inside his mind “Ah. Seems like you have a fever. Guess I could help you through it and in the meanwhile try to find your clan. Might as well show you a bit of the Overworld while we are at it. Not a lot of Piglin get the chance to see the Overworld after all. You certainly are a special case.”

Then he turned around and talked to the air “Happy now Chat?” Turning back around to face Y/N again “Are you okay with that, Y/N?”

It was still difficult for them to grasp the whole of the situation but to get the chance to explore this Overworld? With this Technoblade Piglin? Their curiosity was certainly piqued. Maybe they were still too tired, and their head was pounding but there was this little voice in their head that urged them on.

That told them “Go for it. You will learn a lot! He might be your true kin.”

So, they nodded silently agreeing in Piglish “Yes. I think I am okay with it.”

[erodasfishtacos]

Three Minutes

Prompt: Harry slips up and it’s only right his wife serves him a little punishment.

Word Count: 3.2 k +

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (sexting, dirty talk, public, subby!h)

AN: I’m excited to share this!! I’m pretty sure I’m going to do a part 2. Let me know if you’d like to see this! I’m dedicating this to @harrywritingsbyme because she’s an amazing writer and you need to read everything of hers! Requests open ☺️

Reblog if you can!

Harry was dreading his interview with Howard Stern. The guy was an obnoxious prick who had no filter and liked to put people on the spot - it’s what he’s doing right now. 

You were off to the side, watching the interview next to Jeff. It was matter of time before Howard brought you up to pick and prod at your husband.

“So Harry, you’re married, yes?” Howard asks, typical sunglasses on and curly permed hair donned. His mouth a little to close to the microphone.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry smiles tightly, hands rubbing on this upper thighs. He spares a quick glance over to you.

“She’s here, right?” Howard looks over at you and winks, “Fucking gorgeous babe, huh?”

You roll your eyes at the interviewers remark and Harry’s isn’t pleased but nicely responds, “She’s amazing, way out of my league.”

Howard laughs, “Now I have to ask you, does she tour with you?”

Harry replies, “Yeah. For the most part, sometimes she’ll go off to visit family or friends for a bit.”

The interview smirks, “Does she get worried you’re going to fuck other people while she’s not there? I mean you have girls falling at your feet. It must be hard to avoid temptation.”

You blink owlishly, attempting to contain the offended scoff bubbling in your throat. Jeff snickers and you send him a elbow.

Your husbands face can’t hide his annoyance at the question, “Are you asking me if it’s hard not to cheat on my wife?”

“I mean you could have a line up of girls after every show willing to blow you. I couldn’t be satisfied going home to the same thing every night.”

The band is looking back and forth at each other - clearly uncomfortable. Mitch’s face completely blank - of course.

“Well, I mean - I think that kind of stuff like...people going crazy over you was exciting when I was a bit younger. But no, I mean I’m very much in love and also consider myself a monogamous person.”

“Man, I mean - some of the songs you write about her? Watermelon Sugar, that’s clearly about eating her out,” Howard laughs, the tune playing softly in the background.

Jeff nearly chokes on the water he’s drinking and you pat him hard on the back - as payback for making Harry do this interview.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had pussy so good I’d write about it,” the interview jokes crudely. The women interviewer tittering in the background at his antics.

Harry fumbles, “Uh-uhm, it’s not uh- necessarily about anything or any act like...in particular. Just about having a good time with the person you love.”

The female interviewer who stays mostly quite chirps in to break the tension, “Is it hard to be long-distance when she’s not on the road with you?”

“Not at all. Most of the time she’s with me but we’re lucky we have technology that helps us not feel so far away from each other.”

Howard smiles, “How do you not go crazy being without sex for long amounts of time?”

It’s odd how obsessed this guy is with sex. As well as painting Harry as some sex-crazed rockstar who can’t go a day without.

Harry then goes on to put his entire, big ass foot in his mouth. “Y‘know that’s uh-that’s what good about FaceTime and Snapchat.”

The interviewer grins like a predator at Harry’s admission. You’re face is bright fucking pink. You’re gonna murder him.

“Well you heard it here first, folks. The key to how Harry Styles - one of the greatest artist of his time- keeps a happy relationship with his wife while he’s on the road. Dick pics and FaceTime sex.”

Harry glances over at you, his face apologetic as he already knows he in trouble.

You’re not that embarrassed - it not like it’s a weird thing to do but you didn’t want him talking about it with a trashy talk show host. 

The interview is almost over which is good because Harry’s about to lose his temper after he’s asked about his step-father’s passing and the stalker who was harassing you two.

During the interview however, you get a wonderful fucking idea as easy payback for Harry’s little slip up.

After Harry’s tossed his headset and microphone pack off with a little too much force to be unnoticeable - he’s sliding up beside you.

“Baby love,” He murmurs sheepishly into your cheek, nuzzling there for a moment, and breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“You did good, H,” You reply softly, landing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back to brush his hair off his forehead.

“Y’not mad?” Harry asks warily, knowing he got nervous and gave a little too much information.

“No baby, not mad at all,” Your voice steady and believable. It was true - you weren’t mad, just a little annoyed.

He seems confused. He knows you like the back of his hand and usually, you get peeved when he says something in interviews you’d rather the word not know.

Like the one time he let it slip you had an affinity for hooking up in hotel pools after dark. Prat.

**

Harry multiple appearances that day and it ends in a dinner at a fancy restaurant in Beverly Hills with big wigs.

You were invited but declined, despite Harry’s pouting and whines for you to go. You were the only thing that made these work obligations go faster.

However, you had other plans and a little bit of revenge to play on your unsuspecting husband.

All in good fun - of course.

**

Harry sits down with a group of people from his label. They’re all dressed in tight suits and rolex watches.

Harry on the other hand is in a flowy button-up only halfway done and a tight pair is skinny jeans. Jeff is dressed pretty casually too.

They were talking about tour dates and had just received their appetizers when he gets the text from you. Your name in his phone as baby love.

Harry nearly chokes on his water when he opens the message to reveal an image of you nearly naked in your shared bed. You skin tone standing out against the baby blue comforter.

You have one of his vintage tees on as well as some creme boyshort panties. The shirt is lifted though, rumpled up by your collarbones to reveal your breasts.

Harry wants to drool over the picture but doesn’t want to risk anyone else seeing his wife in any state of undress. So he quickly responds.

Baby, I’m at dinner.

You reply with another picture. A hand tucked down your underwear, cupping your heat. He can see the outline of your fingers underneath the thin fabric.

Already have something you could eat.

Harry can already feel himself twitch in his jeans. Cut it the fuck out now

Another. Fucking. Picture. Comes through.

This time you’re completely stripped, tits visible with soft pink peaks, and a hand strategically covering your cunt. 

Make me, H.

It clicks what game you’re playing. You rarely sent anything risqué when you where together because you had each other physically.

Harry curses under his breathe, locking his phone and pushing back his chair a little too fast - excusing himself to the loo.

As soon as he clicks the lock on the single-person restroom, he’s pressing on your contact information and you pick up on the very first ring.

“You bloody brat, I’m out at dinner,” Harry hisses at you, giving himself a rough squeeze through his tighten trousers.

All he hears back is a breathy moan. He’d know that sound anywhere - you’re touching yourself.

“What the fuck are you playin’ at?” Your husband demands, but the clipped edge in his tone tells you how much it’s affecting him.

“Just a little payback, babe...for spilling our dirty secrets,” you hum innocently, deciding to send him another picture.

It’s a simple photo without context some might not even understand. It’s just your hand but your fingers glistening with your arousal. 

Harry’s hand is about to crush is phone into bits as his eyes roam the picture. He was nearly panting, already able to imagine the taste and smell.

He takes a deep breath before he threatens you, “if you don’t pull your desperate little self together right now- I’m not going anywhere near that needy cunt and I’ll make you spend all night choking on me.”

Instead of the typical, sad whimpers he expects to hear - he receives a patronizing, high-pitched giggle.

“That’s not how it’s going to work tonight, H,” you inform him in a matter-of-fact manner before continuing, “we’re playing by my rules.”

Your husband laughs in disbelief, echoing against the bleak bathroom walls, “and what those rules, sweetheart?”

“You’re going to go sit through your nice little dinner, rockstar. And I’m going to send you pictures, maybe some videos to watch to keep you entertained. If you don’t open them within three minutes each time and reply - you’re not coming tonight. The couch will have a blanket and pillow ready for you.”

If he was in charge, he’d laugh and remind you that you two have three lovely guest rooms he could choose from. But he doesn’t want to push it.

“Fuck,” Harry spits, having to cram his hand into his jeans to adjust himself so he doesn’t look like a pervert when he goes back out.

But he was so fucking game.

He’d do anything you wanted from him - no matter if he could embarrass himself in front of business partners or fans. He was besotted, whipped, whatever you wanted to call him.

“Are you going to be good for me, baby?” You coo tauntingly, from the other end of the line. Basking in his little huffs of air and the agitated lift in his voice.

“Yeah, m’gonna be good,” he murmurs gruffly, his demeanor had changed now that he wasn’t in charge any longer - always willing to let you be dominant when you wanted to be. 

It wasn’t often - but when you did, Harry would fall into a nice, fuzzy headspace of compliance and submission. He always wanted to please and this amplified all of his desires.

“Best husband I could ask for, you know?” You reward, knowing that the games are just getting started and you wanted to make this last.

“I love you s’much,” Harry automatically returns, with deep devotion and honesty. His voice as sweet as maple syrup.

“Are you hard, H?” 

He grips himself, like he’d just remember, “m’really fucking hard for you.”

“Snap an picture for me, pull yourself together, and then go back to your table - don’t forget the rules.”

“Yes ba-“

Then you end the call while he’s talking.

Harry’s a little shaky as he swipes onto his camera. He grips the thick outline of his cock, rings glinting in the dull lights, and takes a picture.

He hopes it’s good enough and quickly sends it before splashes some cold water on his face and thinking of anything but his naked wife laying at home in their bed - wet and horny.

Jeff gives him a side-eye when he sits back down, casually throwing a napkin over his lap because he can’t help the semi that refuses to go down all together.

“You alright?” His manager asks him, the others still in the throws of tour venues and vendors discussions.

Harry nods, lying easily “the missus couldn’t find her phone charger - thought I nipped it.”

“You do love to steal those,” his friends agrees before cutting off one of them men to suggest three days at Madison Square Garden instead of two.

Harry’s clutching his phone like a lifeline, anticipating the indicative text vibrations that let him know you’ve sent something.

However, despite how many times he checks, fifteen minutes pass and still nothing has sent from you. He almost starts to worry if you’re okay.

But just like the sneaky little thing you are, you wanted to give him enough time to calm down and relax before rilining him up again.

When it finally alerts him, he’s unlocking his phone and opening the message thread as fast as possible. 

The picture makes his jaw almost drop on the fucking carpeted floor. You’re in one the large closets in your home- the one that holds all of his Gucci suits in particular.

There is a massive floor to ceiling mirror in this room that you’re standing in front of. You’ve slid on one of his custom silk Gucci button-ups that has styles embroidered on the breast pocket without doing doing up any of the buttons.

He’s an absolutely goner for you in anything that makes you look like his property - the large engagement ring and wedding band on your left ring-finger satiates that feeling quite well.

It takes he a moment before he realizes what else you’re wearing. Your fucking collar. It sat tight around your neck, the expensive leather biting into your skin.

Your one hand was holding the phone and the other had a hand teasing at one of your hardened nipples through the silk fabric of the shirt.

He keeps his phone in his lap with a dim light setting so nobody can risk a chance at seeing such explicits pictures of what’s his.

You look so good with my name on you, baby. Please, want to see you in just the collar, take off the shirt.

Harry fumbles along with the conversation, that’s revolving all around him, “Yeah, I loved Argentina. Definitely want to got there again.”

Buzz.

How’d you already forget I’m in charge? Maybe I’ll just go to bed if you’re not going to follow instructions.

As punishment - if you can really call it that - in the next image you don’t have the collar on any longer and you’ve done up a few buttons on the silk shirt.

Harry feels panicked at the thought of you stopping. He was in a nice, soft headspace clinging onto anything you were willing to give him - desperate to make you happy.

I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be good for you. You’re so fucking sexy. I can basically taste you on my tongue.

“Harry?” Jeff draws him out of his haze. He’s looking at him expectantly, eyebrow quirked, and a martini in his hand.

“What did you say?” Harry asks, eyes itching to dart back down to the screen of his mobile.

“Would you want Kacey to open for you again in North America?” Jeff repeats with annoyance.

“Oh, uh-yeah, that’d be great,” he tells them without really think about it.

He should be paying attention to this pretty important meeting but he can’t when he gets another alert.

The video is back in the bedroom, your delicate fingers sliding down your torso with the button-up pooled around your ribs.

Your hand slowly, at a near crawl- traces down with the camera until the manicured tips of your fingers are at your mound.

Harry’s stomach is tensing in excitement as he watches your fingers dip into the part in your slick, swollen folds.

He has to bite back a groan when the video cuts off and he reads the text below the attachment.

Was this the pussy you enjoyed eating so much you won a Grammy writing about? Was Howard right in his interview?

If Harry was in charge, he would have delivered a few resounding smacks to your arse for how cocky you were being - despite it being the absolute truth.

Did he write and win a Grammy based on a song about how much he loved eating his wife out? Sure fucking did.

Baby love. Yeah, wrote it about you. Write all my songs about how much I love you and your body. Everything is yours.

Harry is so good when he’s subby - is the thing.

Harry was a sappy sod anyways, always ready to tell you how much he loved you and thousand of other sweet things. This just amplified all of his warm, fuzzy emotions.

Send me a picture of your left hand

He hesitates for a moment, still nodding along to the ebb and flow of the business talk but having no actual idea what they’re talking about.

Harry places his large, wide hand flat on the table in front of him. He knew why you wanted his left hand - you were just as possessive as him. 

You want to see his long, slim fingers that feel so good inside of you. You want to see the glimmer of his wedding band as well as the tattoo of your name on the outer curve of his hand.

He doesn’t think to turn off his flash. It ends up going off in the dimly lit restaurant and blinding the table, reflecting off the silver flatware. 

He looks like a complete knob - taking a picture of his hand but also something weird Harry may do anyways and upload to his Instagram.

The men blink a few times and look at him with a confused expression. Jeff jabs him roughly in the side.

“Uh, snapchat streak,” he mumbles, tucking his phone back into his lap and sending it.

You were cutting it close, babe. 2 minutes, I don’t like waiting. But fuck, who’s name is that on your hand, who’s that ring for?

You, you baby. All of its for you, promise. I belong to you, only you for the rest of my life.

The response is quick.

But...you have girls falling at your feet, lining up to blow you.

A direct quote for the interview today. Brat - she knew how he hated when people assumed or talked like he had no self control or morals.

Only want your mouth, your cunt, your tits. So bloody gone for you, baby. Please send me another video.

He really shouldn’t be egging you on.

Your being greedy but you’ve been following the rules so I’ll allow it.

The video does not disappoint. You’re hand is nestled down between your thighs, pinching at your puffy, stimulated bud. Just the amount of pain you like. It’s a short clip but it has him wriggling in his seat.

He watches it again but before he can finish it - Jeff is snatching his phone out of his shaky hands and tucking it into his own pants pocket.

The manager’s obviously sick of the lack of focus and honestly, how disrespectful Harry’s being which is something he usual never is.

“Pay attention,” he whispers with a sharp, irritated tone before clapping Harry on the back to play off the scolding to the group.

Harry feels a knot form in his stomach as his phone sits stagnant in his friends pocket. His wife sitting, impatiently waiting for his response that she’s not going to get.

He watches his vintage wristwatch as fifteen minutes pass, he hears a few buzzes from his phone that go unattended.

Harry’s not fuzzy anymore - well not in a good way. He has anxiety bubbling in his tummy and his semi had finally disappeared from nerves of disappointing you.

He decides to engage in the conversation to keep his mind off of what is waiting for him at home. He craved to look at those images and videos again. To have it in real life.

**

It had been three hours since he responded. The people at the table insisting on dessert and alcoholic coffees despite Harry saying he was exhausted from a long day of promo.

At the end of dinner, Harry would love to lie and say he’s recovered from his shakiness but he hadn’t.

After shaking the hands of the record label men, he walks to his car with Jeff. He gets a nice talking to before his phone is being placed back into his hand and he’s sliding into his obnoxious vintage Ferrari.

He takes a deep breathe before he unlocks his phone. The buzzes he heard where not all from you. A few from Twitter, his mum, Niall. There was only one from you.

Game Over. You lose.

—

Thank you for reading💕🥺

[narutogwriting]

A Misunderstanding

⋇✦ Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

⋇✦ Genre: fluff; one shot

⋇✦ Synopsis: You and Kiba were getting close until Naruto got in the way. If you ask Kiba, Naruto ruins everything.

⋇✦ CW: none

⋇✦ Length: 3.6k+

⋇✦ Inspiration: request by @writing-x-reader

If there was one person in Konoha who could push Kiba’s buttons just right, it was Naruto. Everything about that twerp pissed Kiba off. He was loud (so was Kiba), obnoxious (so was Kiba), arrogant (again, Kiba), and everytime he opened his big mouth, Kiba wanted to pop him. Naruto had always got on Kiba’s nerves, and after their fight in the preliminaries of the chunin exam, even more so. He couldn’t believe he lost to a wimp like that!

In reality, though the two would never admit it, they were just a little bit too alike in all of the worst ways. And apparently, that drifted over to their taste in women.

“Naruto, stop!” You giggled, thrashing in his arms. Naruto had come up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up.

“You gotta go in sometime! I’m just helping.” Naruto teased as he attempted to drop you into the water you’d been avoiding submerging yourself in. To keep from falling in, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, your legs doing the same around his waist. The two of you were cracking up with laughter. Naruto was spinning around, trying to loosen his grip.

What actually ended up happening was the big idiot tripped, losing his balance and sending you both splashing into the waves. You came up spluttering, spitting out water and splashing him, all the while a big smile was on your face.

“Naruto, stop,” Kiba mocked to himself in a high pitched voice with a roll of his eyes. He crossed his arms, leaning back on his towel, unable to tear his eyes away from the sickeningly cute scene. “Give me a break.”

Akamaru gave a small bark that came out more like a high pitched whine. It was a sound that basically said: you’re a jealous baby. Kiba shot his canine companion a glare. “Yeah, what do you know? It’s not like you’ve ever had a girlfriend.” He pointed out.

“Are you seriously arguing with Akamaru about a girl?” Ino huffed as she laid her towel out next to Kiba’s. She lounged onto her stomach, resting her head on her folded arms. “Put some sunblock on my back, will you? I don’t want to burn.” Kiba rolled his eyes, but complied with his friends requested. He squirted the sunblock into his hands, rubbing it between them before massaging it into Ino’s shoulders.

She hummed happily.

“What are you over here pouting about, anyways?” Ino asked Kiba. “We’re at the beach! It’s the first time we’ve all had off in like, forever! You should be enjoying yourself. Not crying over some girl.”

Huffing, Kiba finished lathering Ino’s back before he flopped out onto his own towel. “I’m not crying over some girl!” He argued. “Naruto’s just annoying! He’s so loud; why does he want the whole beach to hear what he’s doing!?” His point was made as a high pitch scream came from the ocean. Naruto practically flew out of the water before he realized it was only seaweed that his foot had touched. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly as you tossed the offending object away.

Ino laughed, rolling to her side and propping her head up in her hand. “Give it a rest already, would ya?” She teased him. “Yeah, Naruto’s annoying, but you’re not gonna fool anyone pretending that that’s the reason you’re in such a bad mood.”

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

“Oh come on. You’ve been in love with her for like, ever. It’s getting embarrassing at this point.” Ino glanced over to where you and Naruto were still playing in the waves. “What’s so great about her anyways?”

Wasn’t that the question?

Kiba had had a crush on you since your academy days. You were cute, strong, and always so active. Kiba really liked that. You guys had spent a lot of time together before graduating the academy and being placed on separate teams tore you apart.

The two of you had always gotten along really well. Once you were both chunin, you got sent on plenty of missions together. It was just more alone time to get to know you better and for his little crush to turn into something more.

He’d been planning on asking you out sooner; he really was! But despite how confident, borderline cocky, Kiba pretended to be, he was actually really nervous about the whole thing.

What if you rejected him!? Not only that, but what if you rejected him and then got weird around him? Didn’t want to talk to him anymore?

So he’d decided to put it off, focus on getting to know you more and try and gage and see if maybe you felt the same way about him. There were plenty of times where he did think you returned his feelings. When you laughed a little too long at his joke or played with your hair as you talked or touched his arm while you walked by… But he knew you were just a nice, friendly person who was easy to get along with.

What if he had just misread your signals?

Kiba figured he had plenty of time; he wasn’t too stressed about it. But he should have been.

Because just like that, Naruto was home, and everything had changed. It took him off guard. He didn’t recall you and Naruto being particularly close when you were younger, but once he got home you two became almost inseparable. You were always together, always hanging out and talking with your inside jokes. And just like that, you slowly drifted from Kiba’s life. His spot was quickly filled by Naruto, and he couldn’t see a place where he fit in your life anymore.

Now, for example. How was he supposed to go out and talk to you when you were so wrapped up in Naruto? It would just be weird, like he was intruding on something.

“Worry about yourself…” Kiba finally muttered to Ino, putting his head down. This beach trip sucked.

Ino rolled her eyes, pushing herself to her feet. “Cmon,” She told Kiba, kicking his side lightly. “Get up. I’m not gonna let you just mope over here all day.

It took some poking and pushing, but finally Kiba caved, getting up to go along with whatever it was that Ino wanted him to do. And honestly? That was the best decision. She kept him busy with the rest of their friends, playing volleyball and football and swimming in the ocean. Once Kiba got swimming, it wasn’t so bad anymore. He was still bummed about you and Naruto, the only two of the group not joining in on the fun. The two of you were content to hang out on your own.

But Kiba was able to let himself get distracted and have a good time. By the time the sun was starting to go down, he was exhausted and starving, ready for the bonfire you all planned.

“Let’s go get some firewood,” Ino nudged Kiba who nodded in response. There was a beach front store not too far off that sold some. “See, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ino asked as they walked. “You just need some fun and sun to make it all better.” She winked at him.

Kiba laughed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I give. You were right.” He admitted with reluctance. “It’s just weird, though. Are those two just so in love that they can’t even come and hang out with their friends? Like, cmon…”

Ino sighed. She guessed Kiba wasn’t completely over it, but she couldn’t help but agree. “It was really weird. Like, we were all supposed to be spending time together and hanging out, but they just stayed off in their own little world… They could’ve done that anywhere.” She shrugged.

Kiba felt validated by Ino’s agreement which made him feel a little bit better about the whole thing. “Yeah, whatever. I don’t even care anymore.” He lied as they bought firewood before heading back to the group. Ino cocked her head at him. She didn’t believe him for a second, but would let him pretend for now.

Once they returned to everyone else, the group made quick work of getting a bonfire started. The hotdogs were pulled out with the old wire coat hangers to roast them with. It was the best part of the beach trip, when everyone would wind down after a crazy, exciting day and just get to relax with one another.

There was always the inevitable pairings that happened too. There was something about the beach air that made people want to cozy up in front of the fire and share some intimate moments.

Kiba was one of them.

But looking around, you still weren’t by the campfire, a fact that caused Kiba to frown because--surprise surprise--neither was Naruto.

His mind was running wild with thoughts of what the two of you could possibly be doing.

After a short while, the two of you did appear, walking up the sand from the water. Kiba’s eyes were locked on the place where Naruto’s arm was wrapped around your waist. He narrowed his eyes. Well, in his mind, that settled it. You and Naruto were obviously together, no question. The realization hit Kiba like a blow to the stomach.

This sucked.

To make matters worse, you were heading right for him.

Naruto helped you as you lowered yourself down besides Kiba at the campfire. “I’m gonna grab us some sticks and hot dogs,” he said, leaving you and Kiba alone.

“Hey,” you smiled at Kiba. “I’ve barely seen you all day. Are you having a good time?”

Kiba glanced at you, inwardly groaning. God, why did you have to be so pretty? So sweet? His heart was fluttering just looking at you and then instantly felt like he was being snapped in two thinking about you being with Naruto.

“Yeah, just dandy.” Kiba muttered, looking back to the food on his plate and surprising you with his shortness. He never shut down conversations with you like that.

“Uh, well, what have you been doing?” You tried. Kiba only shrugged in response.

“Hanging out.” And awkward silence followed.

Ino watched the painful scene as she stood next to Sakura. “This is pathetic,” she sighed, smacking her forehead. “He’s like a hurt puppy! He needs reinforcements…” She took her own plate, walking over and plopping herself down at Kiba’s side. “Nice of you to join us,” Ino teased you, leaning over Kiba’s shoulder.

Your eyes lingered over the closeness between the two before looking away. “Yeah.” Is all you said.

Naruto came back with two hot dogs on a stick, handing one to you, oblivious to the awkward tension lingering in the air. “Here you go,” He grinned, sitting beside you. Kiba didn’t miss the way you perked up at Naruto’s presence. He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to Ino.

The night lingered on and did his best to ignore your and Naruto’s presence you despite sitting right next to him.

Ino, in defense of Kiba, played up her platonic affection with him. She did say she’d be his reinforcements, after all. She laughed just a little louder at the jokes he told and touched his arm just slightly more than normal. While making smores, she even took the mushy marshmallow from her stick and fed it to Kiba, licking her fingers off after.

For your part, you moved in closer to Naruto, uncomfortable and burning green with envy. Couldn’t those two get a room? Did they absolutely need to do this here, in front of everyone?

And of course, what’s a bonfire without games?

“Tenten, truth or dare?”

“Truth.” “If you had to kiss one person in this group, who would it be?”

Cue the blushing and whooping as Lee nudged Neji playfully.

“I dare myself to eat all the crackers!” “Choji, that’s not how you play!”

“Ino, truth or dare?”

“Dare, obviously.”

“I dare you to go skinny dipping in the ocean!”

Ino pushed to her feet, tossing her hair over her shoulders. “No problem!” Everyone cheered, jumping up after her to walk down to the water.

Kiba watched Naruto pull you to your feet, again placing his arm around your waist. He scoffed in annoyance, stomping down to the sand and leaving you behind.

Once everyone was down there, all eyes on Ino expectantly. She stared back, eating up the attention. Her eyes scanned the group before landing on Kiba. “I need a partner, though.” She said, grabbing Kiba’s hand and pulling him with her.

Kiba grinned, shooting a glance your way. If you were with Naruto, you probably didn’t care what he did, but he wanted to make sure you were watching either way.

“Let’s do it.”

Again, everyone cheered as Kiba and Ino began to strip, tossing their clothes to the floor and taking off into the ocean. “Fuck it’s cold!” Kiba yelled as he splashed into the waves, laughing. They probably stayed inside the water for less than a minute, but when they came back out, you and Naruto were gone.

Of course.

Kiba wasn’t having too much fun after that. Everyone headed back to the bonfire. Kiba took a seat far away from you, but couldn’t help but notice the way Naruto was shooting him glares. It went that way for about another hour when night had fallen completely.

Kiba did his best to ignore Naruto, but he couldn’t do it anymore. He wanted to pound that idiot into the floor.

Finally, Kiba pushed to his feet, ignoring the looks he got from everyone else as he stomped over to where you sat with your head leaning on Naruto’s shoulder. “You got a problem?” He spat at the blonde.

Naruto glowered up at Kiba, not moving from his spot with you next to him. “Beat it, Kiba.” He snapped back. “You’re not wanted over here.” Kiba looked at you, but you had your eyes locked on the bonfire, refusing to glance in his direction. He gritted his teeth, looking back to Naruto.

“You wanna run that by me again, douchewad? Or too busy being obsessed with your little girlfriend?” Kiba didn’t mean to drag you into anything or to be a jerk to you specifically, but he was so mad. So mad from watching you cuddle up to Naruto, be all lovey dovey with him and just forget about your friendship completely! How could you do that to him?

Naruto was on his feet in a second, shoving Kiba. “You better leave her out of it,” he warned.

“Or what?”

You’d had about enough of this. You struggled to your feet, wincing slightly. “Can you knock it off!?” You snapped at Kiba, startling him with the harshness of your tone. “You’ve been a jerk all day! You don’t need to come over here and start shit!”

Kiba crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes as he looked at you. He was hurt by your words, but of course he didn’t want to show it. “You’re one to talk!”

With a frustrated yell, you surprised him by taking his hand and pulling him after you. “H-hey,” He stuttered, but you ignored him, continuing to pull him until the two of you got down to the water. “Hey, you’re limping.” He noticed suddenly.

You stopped, dropping his hand and turning to face him. “Yeah, I’m limping. I stepped on a sea urchin earlier. Naruto practically had to carry me back up to the bonfire it hurt so much.

Kiba stared at you, blinking as the realization slowly crept in. “Oh… Was that why Naruto had his arm around you earlier?” He asked, almost sheepishly.

Cocking an eyebrow, you tilted your head. “Huh? Yeah, why?” You asked, confused by his observation.

He blushed, glancing away from you over to the ocean, grateful for the dark to hide his red face. “No reason…”

With a sigh, you crossed your arms. “Kiba, what is going on with you? You’ve barely even looked my direction all day. When you do talk to me, you act like a jerk. What gives? Did I do something that upset you?”

Kiba sighed, running his hands through his hair, trying to decide what to do. Was this really a conversation he was ready to have? Probably not. But it looked like he didn’t have a choice. It was now or never.

“Look, I know I haven’t talked to you much today, but you’ve been so wrapped up with Naruto. Pretty much every day you’re wrapped up with him! We were getting so close and then the second Naruto came home, you dropped me! Whatever, I get you have a boyfriend and all, but that doesn’t mean you have to just forget about me, does it?”

He sighed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his swim trunks. There, it was out. He was beyond embarrassed by the conversation, but he said it. Now you knew.

You blinked, a little confused as you processed Kiba’s words. “Boyfriend?” You asked him. “Kiba, Naruto’s not my boyfriend.”

Looking back at you, he frowned. “Then why have you been by his side all day instead of hanging out with me?”

“You were with Ino all day!” You pointed out. “I didn’t want to go over there and ruin your good time.”

“I was only with Ino cause you were with Naruto!” Kiba countered. “All day! And you two were disappearing together, and then when he had his arm around you, well, I thought it was ‘cause you two were together! And then you were all cuddled up on him, and he was glaring at me… What was I supposed to think?!”

It was quickly becoming clear to you what had happened. You couldn’t help but snicker just a little bit, making Kiba frown even more. “What’s so damn funny!?”

Now it was your turn to blush. Cheeks red, you looked to the sand, fidgeting nervously with your hands. There was something you’d wanted to tell Kiba for a long time, but you weren’t sure if you were ready. Things had been so weird lately; the timing never seemed right. But after the mess that was today, the two of you were together, in the sand, staring at the ocean waves; it seemed like the perfect moment was now.

“Kiba, Naruto spent all day trying to make me feel better… You were so flirty with Ino, rubbing in her sunscreen; I didn’t want to see that. So when you all went off together, we stayed on our own so I wouldn’t have to see her all over you. Then she was feeding you marshmallows. You even went skinny dipping with her! Naruto’s just been a good friend today. That’s it.”

Realization was slowly dawning over Kiba. He crossed his arms, cocking an eyebrow as he stared down at you. “Really?” He muttered, a smirk slowly starting to pull it’s way over his lips. “And why do you care whether or not Ino flirts with me, huh?”

Your face went red. “Why do you care if Naruto’s my boyfriend!?” You shot back at him.

The two of you locked eyes, staring each other down and willing the other person to be the first to break. But Kiba had already been on the edge all day long, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Maybe I wanted to be your boyfriend…” He grumbled reluctantly, averting his eyes from yours.

He didn’t see it, but a grin broke out over your face. Had he really just said that? You were suddenly giddy with excitement, bouncing on your toes as you began to laugh.

“You can just say no, ya know! You don’t gotta laugh!” Kiba snapped, shooting you a glare, but you just shook your head, throwing your arms around him to hug him.

Just like Kiba, you'd been hoping for this moment for so long! Meeting Kiba in the academy had been one of your favorite parts of the whole experience; definitely the most memorable. He'd been one of the people you were most excited to see. There was a point after where you hardly saw him, but once you started going on missions together, everything changed for you.

There's something about those late night conversations when everyone is asleep that brings people closer. You get to know someone in the dark better than you ever do in the day.

But your days together weren't so bad either. It didn't take spending too much time with Kiba before you started to catch feelings. He was so funny and witty; you couldn't deny you were attracted to that couldn't-care-less attitude. He just played it so cool, and he wasn't bad on the eyes either.

You'd wanted to tell him how you felt, but you were terrified that he didn't feel the same. Now those fears were out the window

”I’m not saying no, you idiot!” You teased him, looking up at him. “I do want to be your girlfriend!”

It took a moment for the words to sink in; for Kiba to really get what you were saying. When he did, he began to smile, hugging you back. “Wait, for real?” He asked, his cheeks flushed in pleasure. He couldn’t believe this! He’d wanted to ask you out for so long… Why had he wasted so much time being scared?

Kiba pulled away from the hug just enough so he could tangle his hand in your hair as he leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours. You weren’t having any of that, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him into you, kissing him deeper, which Kiba of course returned without hesitation.

Kissing you was everything he ever thought it would be. Your lips were soft, moving perfectly in time with his as you pressed yourself into him. God, he’d wanted this for so long. Kiba didn’t think anything would ever come close to the feeling he got being able to hold you in his arms. He didn’t want it to ever end.

When you finally broke apart, you were both grinning.

Kiba helped you limp back up the beach to the bonfire. This time, he didn’t mind when you sat next to Naruto. He sat on the other side of you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you leaned against him.

“About damn time!” Naruto cried out with an exasperated sigh. “Geez you two are annoying. I thought you’d never get together!”” “I hate to agree with Naruto…” Ino sighed from across the fire. “But he’s right. Though I do take some credit for this .” She smiled at Kiba.

You both rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless as Kiba leaned down to kiss you again. This was a long time coming, but you were worth the wait.

[bubblegumfanfictions]

Falling in Love again.

Fandom- Bleach

Ships- Kisuke Urahara x Reader

Warnings- Some language, Implied Sexual Assault, Past sexual Assault.

Summary- Imagine a tally mark appearing on your skin every time you fall in love. When your tally mark is Red then it's onesided, Black then the love is returned. If it is scarred then your love ended traumatically.

You have a scarred tally mark and a red tally mark, the red one being for Kisuke Urahara.

Word Count- 3,928

You led in bed staring down at your wrist where a single red tally mark decorated your skin. In this world, a tally mark showed your love. People who fell in love easily were littered with marks, whereas the people who were only in love with one person would have one. If the mark is red it's unrequited, if it was Black then the person you love returns your feelings.

Your singular red mark was for Kisuke Urahara, a friend of your friends. You went to his shop with your friends whenever they needed something from him seeing as that seemed to be your only excuse to see him. You didn't want to come across as weird for visiting on your own. Especially when you have no real powers like the others.

Annoyingly you had one other mark on your arm, a scarred tally mark, one from your ex. In this world a scarred tally would mean that your love for them ended very abruptly and traumatically. No one knew about that tally, you were very good at keeping it hidden, whether it was with a well placed bracelet or a long sleeved shirt.

Rolling onto your side you let out a huff. It hurts, it shouldn't but it does. Knowing that the one man you love doesn't feel the same way. You barely get to see him since your friends don't visit that often. But you'll take whatever time you can with him even if you don't get to talk.

Well, only time will tell.

---

"Y/N!!!" A fist slammed against the door multiple times as Ichigo's voice yelled your name. "C'mon man! We've gotta get to Hat 'n' Clogs!" Sleepily, you raised your head taking a glance out of your open window.

"Wh-what for?" The early morning rasp in your voice made it a note or so deeper than it actually was. You stretched out and hopped out of bed throwing on the nearest clothing you had, which happened to be a (f/c) long knit sweater, a pair of black leggings and some brown boots.

"Y/N! We haven't got all day, move your ass!" You shook your head and ran out of the house not brushing your hair, figuring you could comb it down with your fingers on the way there.

By the time you got there you realised there was no point fixing your hair until you got inside in the first place. It was so windy outside that your hair just kept blowing around which made it worse than before. "Hey, come in guys." You froze for a moment as heat rushed to your face, you brushed a small amount of hair over your face, hoping he didn't notice it.

Quickly yet quietly you walked into the shop following behind Ichigo whilst you brushed down your hair. Kisuke stopped you briefly "You missed a spot." and with nimble hands, he began to flatten down your hair. "There, done." He gave you his signature grin, placing a hand onto the small of your back leading you to the rest.

Once Kisuke leads you to your friends he then gets down to business. “So, I am assuming you guys are here for the training grounds, right?” The ginger he questioned nods his head. You didn’t have any special abilities at all, but your friends knew you were great moral support and a generally good person so they let you in on their secret.

Most of the time you find days like this one quite boring, sure you’d get to see Kisuke but you usually have nothing to do. On some days you would help Tessai, Jinta and Ururu with their work or well, in Jinta and Ururu’s case, you would do their work for them.

When your friends finish training and all head home Kisuke typically gives you something for your time. At first he would give you the equivalent of minimum wage for the amount of work you do but recently (due to finding out your love for (favourite collectable)) he would end up getting you those instead.

The boys and Orihime go down into the training room, leaving you upstairs in the shop with Kisuke. “So, um… Is there anything you need me to do today?” you asked in your typically meek voice. Being with Kisuke made you so nervous you could barely talk, so being able to say that was a blessing.

Kisuke tilted his hat back with his thumb as he thought about things you could do around the shop. “Not that I can think of, for once Jinta and Ururu did the work I assigned for them.” You fake gasped at his comment. They finished their work… Early?

“No way, Jinta and Ururu finished their work? Damn that never happens.” Kisuke laughed at your comment and squeezed your shoulder. Yeah, when you did hang out with Kisuke alone you did have a lot of fun, but you still don’t like to intrude if you don’t have a reason to.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well what am I meant to do then?!” You dramatically waved your arms in the air in exasperation. When you did so Kisuke caught sight of the two tally marks and promptly grabbed your wrist.

“A Scar and a Red tally mark. I’m sure those are both fun stories.” He lightly massaged the scarred tally on your wrist making you flinch. He looked up at you in concern, dropping your arm. “Sorry.”

“It is fine, I’m just- No one has ever seen that before, as you can imagine I’m not particularly keen on anyone seeing that one..” You explain, rubbing the scar to try and ease some of the emotional turmoil.

“Does anyone know? Ichigo? Orihime? Chad?” He listed off some of your friends and to each one you shook your head. No one knew this, and you were planning on keeping it a secret from everyone, not even Kisuke was meant to know. “Would you mind telling me?” You shook your head once more. You didn’t even want to remember the scar, much less the asshole who caused it.

Kisuke rubbed your shoulder, trying to soothe your pain with a small smile on his face. "It's fine, you don't have to talk about it. But if you ever need to, I'll be happy to listen." Tears start to pool in your eyes, you've never spoken about it to anyone outside of your family, maybe it would be good. But not now.

You gave Kisuke a tight hug, the tears in your eyes spilling out. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." You kept repeating over and over into his chest. Kisuke was shocked at first but wrapped his arms around you, rubbing his fingertips up and down your spine to calm you down, his cheek pressed into your hair.

Both of you stayed that way for a while until you finally calmed down, letting go of the tall, green clad man. "I'm sorry about that- I should probably head home." You scrubbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your jumper with an appreciative smile on your face.

"Hey, it is fine." Kisuke messed up your hair with one of his hands. "It is nothing to worry about, just know that I am here if you need to talk. Just because you don't have powers doesn't mean you can't come here whenever you want to." He cups your face in his hands with a grin "YOU are an absolute pleasure to have here, okay?" You nodded your head, still too upset to really speak properly. "Good."

Kisuke walks you to the door once you calmed down enough and saw you out. "Hope to see you here soon, Y/N." You nodded your head.

"That will probably be when they come here again." You smiled at him, waving your hand as you walked home.

------- Timeskip to a week later. -------

You walk home from the shops as you keep looking down at the shopping list, making sure that you have everything. Your mother had asked you to go down because she forgot some ingredients she needed. It was getting a little dark and it was kind of scary being by yourself, but at the same time you did enjoy the peace and quiet.

"Ohhh, Look who it is." Your face paled, you knew that voice anywhere, he was the reason for the scar. "Why do you look so scared, don't you remember the fun we had together?" You bit your lower lip harshly, weighing out your options. Urahara's shop wasn't that far away so you could make a break for it, but you knew he was a fast runner.

With a groan you made your choice and dashed to the shop. "Oi! Get back here you stupid cunt!" Of course, you could hear the sound of heavy footfalls hitting the asphalt behind you, this was inevitable. But if you got close enough to the shop you knew that you'd be able to at least get someone's attention, whether it was Jinta, Ururu, Kisuke or Tessai.

"Oh, Y/n I knew you enjoyed our time together, you remembered how much I enjoyed the struggle. Although you were so much more compliant when you slept." You stopped dead in your tracks, you hated him, you hated thinking about him... About the things he has done and the fact that you loved him once. He laughed at your stop, you were almost right outside of the shop by this point, but that didn't matter.

"Do you finally agree with me Y/n? Do you finally see that it is all you're good for?" You were trembling by this point, not from fear, oh no; from pure hatred. You dropped the bag you were holding in your dominant hand and with a quick turn you put all of your anger into your movements and punched him in the face, knocking him to the floor.

Your body, however, was still shaking. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted to hurt him bad. How was it fair that he got out of the relationship with nothing yet you with a heart full of anxiety and fear. You readied yourself to hit him again with the fist that already had blood on it since you broke his nose when you heard a voice call out to you.

"Y/n? Y/n? Are you okay?" Your head turned towards the store, and stood in the doorway was none other than Kisuke Urahara. You didn't even look down at him. You sprinted as fast as you could to Kisuke, pushing him inside of the building before sliding the door shut.

You led your back against the door as you slid down it, landing yourself on the floor. Your eyes were wide, frightened- Kisuke has never seen you with that expression, you looked terrified. Knowing something was up, he locked the store up and left the room, coming back with a warm cup of tea, sitting next to you.

He handed you the cup and spoke with a quiet voice, trying not to scare you. "What was all that about? Are you okay?" You shook your head, keeping your face directed towards the cup in your hands, which were still trembling. "Did you want to talk about it once you're calmed down?" You nodded your head, Kisuke was silent for a few seconds, as if contemplating whether or not he should say anything. "Did you want a hug?" You nodded again.

Kisuke wasted no time wrapping his left arm around you to pull you into his side, he used his thumb to rub little circles into your side as his head rested on top of yours. "It'll be okay, Y/n. You'll be okay, just breathe. Whatever happened won't happen anymore, you're safe here." He kept whispering to you.

Eventually, you finished the drink he made you and hugged him back. His face was now completely in your hair as he kissed the top of your head. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Y-yeah, thank you..." You stuttered out, tired from what had just occurred.

"Good, if you want I can run you a bath and get you some fresh clothes. You can stay the night if you don't feel safe to head back, okay?" You nodded your head, but then you remembered your mother. As if reading your thoughts, Kisuke spoke up again. "I'll phone your mum while you're in the bath and fill her in, how does that sound?"

"That sounds good, thank you Kisuke." He rubbed your head and stood up, offering you his hand.

After your bath you had calmed down considerably, no longer shaking and being able to speak. Kisuke left some of his clothes folded up in the bathroom for you to change into (which you did). You sat on Kisuke's bed cross legged, trying to comprehend what happened today when there was a knock at the door. "Come in."

Kisuke walks into the room with your phone in his hand. "So I spoke to your mother, she said you could stay here for the night and that I should walk you home at some point tomorrow, or whenever depending on how long you want to stay." He sits next to you and continues. "She also told me who that guy was. Nothing about what happened, she just said that he is the scum of the earth."

You laughed "Yeah, that sounds about right. Due to what happened I don't ever call him my ex. Whenever anyone mentions him we just call him twat." Of course, Kisuke was very confused as to what happened but he already asked a few times so he didn't want to push it, but the look on his face told you everything. "I'll tell you what happened."

"You don't have to." He protested quickly, not knowing if it would upset you to talk about it.

"It is fine, I just have one condition. This is a very touchy subject for me so I was wondering if you could um--- how do I put this?" Kisuke chuckled, knowing what you meant, sitting back with you on his bed, pulling you into his side, much like when you were against the door.

"Take your time."

You took a deep breath and began. "He was my first boyfriend, if I can call him that. He was controlling, manipulative and abusive in more ways than one. He didn't let me talk about any guys, if I played a game wrong he would stop me from playing it. If he was horny I'd have to do something about it and so on... Well anyway, it got to the point where I-- I didn't want to do anything like that. He said he was fine with it... But-" Your breathing got heavier the further into explaining, tears began to form and fall from your eyes. You hated remembering this, but you were hoping that maybe this would be good in the long run.

"Hey, look at me." You hear Kisuke say gently as he turns your face to him. "I know it may not mean or do much but you're safe here, nothing is going to happen to you, I'll look after you, okay? There is no need to worry while you're here, but I do understand why you are." He rubs your head affectionately, hugging you tighter. "Like I said, take your time."

You relished in that hug and composed yourself before continuing. "He said he was fine with it, but one night I woke up and his hand was somewhere it shouldn't have been and his other hand was--- y-yeah. He was with me for a while after that since I was too scared to break up with him. Then I met someone I really liked who was so nice to me, and I realised that I didn't want to be stuck with someone like him."

Kisuke made a noise of understanding. "So that is the red mark then, it is hard to believe that someone would be so thankful for a red mark."

"Yeah, I know. But I really am, and I'm thankful for the help from him too." You smiled, running your finger delicately along the red tally mark.

"Doesn't the red tally mark hurt though? That the person who saved you from that twat doesn't feel the same?" He asked, and yeah it was painful.

"Yeah, it is really painful. But I always think to myself I would rather have this red tally mark and be friends with him than have none at all and still be with twat. Anything is better than that even if it is not reciprocated love." You shrugged your shoulders trying to come across as nonchalant when all you wanted to do was tell Kisuke that the mark was him, but you decided against it. You let out a yawn that caught Kisuke's attention.

"I should probably let you sleep then." He gets up from his spot and you huddle under the covers. Kisuke grins at the sight, fixing the blankets over you and kissing your forehead. "Today has been a rough day so if you need anything just shout, okay? Even if you think it is dumb." Despite everything that happened you slept well that night.

----Time skip 3 days----

"Y/n! Let's go! Hat n Clogs is waiting!" Ichigo yelled up to your window, pulling you from your sleep. You rush to get dressed, throwing a jumper on with leggings like before and you ran from the house.

You opened the door and outside waiting for you was Ichigo and the gang. "Well? Come on!" With that you all went back to Kisuke's shop. Over the 3 days you and Kisuke got closer, he'd constantly phone your mother to check up on you. (since he phoned your mum before and not you so he knew her number) It bugged her so much that she gave you Kisuke's number so she wouldn't be bothered anymore, which was sweet.

Everyone walked into the shop and greeted Kisuke. "Ah, Y/n!" He wrapped his arm around your shoulder playfully, a smile playing across his lips. "Everything okay?" You could see his eyes from the angle so you knew what he meant and you smiled back at him.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He let go of you and began talking to the others about Gigai upgrades. As you tidied around the shop you heard the bell chime indicating someone had come in, you looked up and that someone was twat. Your eyes went wide as you dropped the broom you were holding, alerting the others.

Kisuke's carefree smile and attitude completely dropped when he saw who was there. He grabbed your shoulders, pushing you towards your friends, they noticed something was up there and they stood in front of you. "Get out." He shakes his head, walking around the store as he was being stared at by everyone. "I said get out."

Twat laughed, "I'm a customer here, you can't tell me to get out, I want to buy something." Kisuke got closer to Twat, who was starting to clearly become intimidated by your friends.

"I have the right to refuse people. Customers are typically human, and sadly you don't qualify for one of those, so get the fuck out of my shop." With each sentence Kisuke got closer to him until eventually he got so intimidated and fled. Kisuke locked the shop door and ran over to you, avoiding the strange looks from the others.

"Are you okay?" You appear to be in a state of shock, you feel like you can barely move or speak, you just stood there, trembling. Kisuke continues to ignore the others as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "I am going to tell them if that is alright, just make any sound for a yes, okay?" He heard a small sound come from you so he begins to explain to your friends what happened.

-------

By the end of the explanation you came back to reality, since you weren't paying attention to anything other than Kisuke's arms around you, you were able to pull through pretty quick. Your friends all looked really mad at him for everything he did and thanked Kisuke profusely for helping you out through this. After a while, the others finally leave, giving you a hug and giving you a word of advice, they even offered to teach you how to fight which you decided to take up.

You sat with Kisuke in his room as you usually do after something like that happens. You were talking about nothing in particular when Kisuke stopped you. "Um- Y/n, that person- they return your feelings." You laughed

"No they don't, the proof is in the pu---" You lift your sleeve to show the proof when you noticed that he was right. The telly mark was Black now. You stare at the mark in utter shock. "I- What?" Your eyebrows furrowed together. "That is impossible, why would he like me?" Kisuke smiles at you, messing up your hair like he normally does.

"Probably because you're a fantastic p-" He stops dead in his tracks when he stops a completely new mark on his arm, the arm that was totally clean, in all of his years of living he has never fallen in love. You look up and wonder why he went quiet when you notice him staring at his arm, he must have realised who that tally mark is for. "That-" He gestures towards your mark. "That is for me, isn't it?"

You flush, you never thought you'd end up in a situation like this one. "Y-yeah it is." You bite your lip in worry, you knew he liked you as well, I mean you could literally see it, but that doesn't mean that he would want to be with you. Kisuke smiled softly at you as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"I always thought you were pretty, and I knew that I would absolutely fall for you, I could feel it. So I'm honestly glad it is returned. But um- We don't have to be in a relationship yet if you don't think you're ready for one." Kisuke was the sweetest and that is why, without a doubt in your mind, you knew that you were ready.

"I am ready, I've wanted to be with you for a long time now, I love you Kisuke." You blushed heavily. You think those words often enough but you didn't think you'd ever say them out loud to him.

"Since we have that sorted- can I kiss you?" Kisuke asked, his thumb running across your jaw, your skin tingling from his touch.

"Yeah, you can." His thumb moved, holding on lightly to your chin to pull you close. You were a hair's width away from kissing but he stayed there for a few moments with a look in his eyes that said 'You can still back off if you want to' but you didn't. He took your stillness as an invitation to continue and planted a soft kiss to your lips, his hands moved to cup your cheeks while your own remove his hat so they could rest in his hair. After a few moments of his soft kiss Kisuke pulled back, only to kiss you one more time.

"I love you too, Y/n. I'll make sure nothing bad will ever happen to you again."

[annab-nana]

Piss Boy Peter - Tom Holland

When you’re best friends, sometimes the lines are blurred and feelings can be confused, but all it takes is one moment for Tom to realize he’s utterly in love with you.

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 2.5k+

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

“Hey, Mrs. Nikki! It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been?” you gushed as you hugged the woman you would very much consider to be your second mother tightly in your arms. She rolled her eyes playfully at you before chuckling to herself.

“Y/n, you can just call me Nikki now. No need for the other part,” she grinned beautifully before continuing, “I’ve been good, sweetheart. We haven’t seen you in almost three years but we’re all so proud of you for graduating college early. I know how hard you’ve worked but we did miss you. The boys are somewhere around here.” As soon as her words were finished, the familiar pitter-patter of paws clicked against the hardwood flooring as one Tessa Holland came running up to you.

“Hi Tess!” you squealed while you bent down to let the pup show you how much she loved you. “I think you missed me the most, isn’t that right Tess?” you asked her as if she would speak right back to you. Her wide grin and generous licks told you that she did in fact miss you as she hopped into your lap while you petted her.

“Well, I don’t know about that. I think it might’ve been Tom,” Nikki piped up as she walked into the kitchen while the frowning boy appeared from the hallway.

“Mum,” he whined as if you did not already know he missed you the most. His red cheeks could be spotted from a mile away.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Tom. You are my best friend. You’re supposed to miss me the most.” He rolled his eyes and bent down to pet the incredibly happy dog who sat in front of you too.

“Tessa, what am I gonna do? I thought we got rid of her and now she’s back,” the boy joked as he talked to who he called his best girl, but he knew that Tessa was his second-best girl, and you were first.

“Oh, I can go back to The States if you’d like? I’m sure I’m missed over there a lot more than I am over here it seems,” you scoffed in faux annoyance and hurt which caused the boy to snicker. There was a reason he was the actor out of the two of you.

“Get over here, you div,” he told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. However, since you both were on your knees just petting Tessa, you both toppled over onto the floor and Tessa wasted no time in joining the party as she wiggled her way between you and Tom. Your laughter sounded throughout the home as you two shared a tight embrace which was soon interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“Harry!” you stated excitedly before getting up off Tom to give the boy a hug. You grew up around this family, so you were pretty close to them all and you had seen Tom a couple of times since you’ve come back to London. This was your first time seeing Harry in a year when he and Tom came to visit you during the week between your spring semester ending and your summer classes starting. The curly-headed boy let out a small ‘oof’ when your body collided with his, but he was quick to wrap his arms around you.

“Hey y/n,” he spoke above you as you swayed back and forth before pulling away to see Sam right behind him.

“Oh my God, Sam! Hi!” you shouted and gave him a big, long hug.

It had been three years since you saw the rest of the Holland’s. You got an amazing offer at a college in the US and had to go but that meant being away from your home, your friends, and your best friend, Tom. Tom had endured many phone calls where you were homesick and crying but he always assured you that London and all who inhabit it will be waiting for you when you get done. Thankfully, he came over there a good bit for filming purposes and he would always make sure to schedule a few days before and after and sometimes in between filming to spend time with you. Those days were the ones you treasured and held close to your heart, and you wouldn’t have been able to stay away if they hadn’t happened. And yes, you could’ve come back in the summers, but you decided to get it all done at once, taking summer classes and cutting a year off to graduate in three years instead of four.

“Y/n, how are you?” Sam asked as he pulled you away to look at you, a wide smile plastering his features at the sight. As you two kept up a conversation, Harry nudged Tom with his elbow.

“How long are you gonna stare at her, mate?” his younger brother inquired causing Tom to rip his gaze from you and look elsewhere.

“I just can’t believe she’s back,” he muttered before squatting back down to play with Tess, missing the eye roll and head shake from Harry.

“You losers ready to play some kickball?” Paddy shouted as he trotted down the stairs, stopping when he saw you and then running to give you a hug.

“Well hello to you too Padster,” you giggled while reciprocating the hug from the youngest Holland brother.

“Why didn’t you guys tell me she was coming?” he asked, arms still around you as he looked to his brothers.

“They didn’t know except for your mom who I texted like fifteen minutes before I came, but did you say kickball? You know I’d love to play if you let me,” you questioned and by the way the boy’s eyes lit up and he profusely nodded his head, you took that as a yes before he began to head outside. Sam and Harry followed but Tom hung back. “Are you not coming?”

“I’ll be out there in a bit,” he stated which was kinda weird seeing as he was normally so eager to get out and play with his brothers. Your brows furrowed and the mop of brown curls sighed. “Well, if you’re going to make me say it, I have to take a piss. Would you like to come along?”

“Ew no. Keep all that to yourself,” you grimaced before turning to the dog whose eyes flitted from you to Tom. “Come on Tess. Let’s go play outside,” you told her as you patted your leg to get her to follow. “See you out there in a bit, piss boy!” you yelled, closing the back door behind you.

“Hey piss boy,” he heard the soft voice of his mother snicker when she popped out of the kitchen, beckoning him over with the wave of her hand. He obliged and sat down on the stool across from her as she worked at making some tea for you all. “So, I bet you’re excited now that y/n is back,” she spoke up to start a conversation with her son. She has been talking to Harry a little recently about Tom possibly liking you more than a best friend. Harry confirmed her suspicions that it wasn’t too wild of an accusation so of course, she was going to be a little nosy and try to at least get Tom to hint at it. What a meddler mothers are.

“Well yeah. She’s my best friend and as much fun as she did have over there, she called me all the time crying because she missed London and her family and friends. I hate seeing or hearing her cry,” he spoke as he played with the hem of his shirt.

“So, she had a bit of fun, yeah? Did she meet anyone?” Nikki prodded on.

“She made some new friends that I know she’s gonna miss but she said that some of them are coming over here at the end of the month. Cam and Avery I think were their names. Cam was her freshman year roommate and then they met Avery one night at the library and the three hit it off,” Tom explained what he knew to his mum. He actually met Cam when he visited you, but Avery was never around when he was.

“So, she didn’t meet any new guys or anything?”

“Avery is a guy but they’re just friends as far as I know,” Tom told his mother as his eyes found the window and gazed out it to see you on the ground being attacked with loving licks from Tessa. He just couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his lips at the view.

“What about you and her?” his mum interjected, effectively interrupting his trance on you.

“Me and her?” he inquired with a furrowed brow while his eyes found his mother once more. He didn’t understand what she was trying to get at.

“Yeah, you and y/n. Are you two together or do you look at all your friends that way?” she grinned to herself while busying herself with the tea. Heat rushed to his cheeks, and he shook his head immediately.

“N-no, we are just friends. Nothing more,” he mumbled as he let his face fall into his hands.

“But you want to be more?” she continued while Tom let out a sigh, his eyes wandering out the window again. You had gotten up now, Tessa right behind you, and you were walking over to where Paddy was with the ball. Your head snapped up to face Harry when he said something apparently funny and you threw your head back in laughter.

You looked so ethereal in that moment. Little pieces of grass in your hair thanks to Tessa rolling you around in it, a wide genuine and shining smile so radiant it was almost blinding, your shirt was kind of wonky since you were on the ground earlier and you had not bothered to fix it yet, but he liked the way it was sitting on your body beautifully. Everything about you and everything you did, the way you did it, was so captivating. You had Tom wrapped around your little finger and didn’t even know it. He had it bad for you and he hadn’t realized until now. His feelings for you, his true feelings that he could deny no longer, hit him like a freight train in that moment.

“Oh my God, Mum, I think I’m in love with her,” Tom whispered in shock as his wide brown eyes met her face which wore a knowing look.

“Darling, I’ve known that for years. I was just waiting for you to realize it.”

“Do you think she’ll like me back?” he pondered while his mother let out a laugh.

“Yes, just as I’ve seen you swooning over her for years, I’ve seen her doing the same for a while now too. Of course, she will like you back,” she reassured her son before looking out the window at her boys playing around. “She’s coming in, so I’ll leave you two.” His mother took off to somewhere else in the house as you walked in.

“What are you doing? I thought you were coming out after the bathroom,” you asked as you sat down on the seat next to his. Right then, you noticed something was off. You could feel it.

“Yeah, Mum and I just got to talking,” he stated, not giving you any sort of clue as to what was going through that brain of his. All you knew is that you wanted to help him.

“Hey,” you spoke softly as your hand reached out for his, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I- yeah, we were just… uh, can I ask you something?” Now, you were definitely worried. Tom was only a stutterer when he was nervous and why he was nervous in your presence was beyond you.

“Um yeah always. What’s up?” You watched his eyes dart around the room before they landed on his own that rested in his lap, yours held between them.

“This is gonna sound weird, but- Fuck, I’m just going to say it. Do you wanna go out with me?” Hopeful yet cautious brown eyes gazed at you while the breath was knocked out of you.

“Like as your fake girlfriend to get you out of something or for real?” You had to be sure. You could not let your heart go into the fake thing again believing it was real. You did that once and you were heartbroken afterward.

“Something real. Y/n, I like you as more than a friend, more than a best friend. I don’t want to hide it anymore,” he confessed those words you’ve waited to hear for ages while hiding the small grin trying to show on your face before you spoke up again.

“Tom… I don’t know how to say this,” you started, still trying to mask your smile.

“You’re with Avery,” he assumed which you thought was a wild presumption but let it slide.

“Harry asked me out while we were outside.” Tom’s eyes widened and brows shot up. Well, he certainly did not expect that.

“I- uh, what? Really? I had no idea he felt that way,” he tried to play it off. He was never one to impose on his brothers like that and if Harry liked you, then he would for sure back away and let him have his shot with you. Tom would get used to just being your best friend. He’s done it for years so he could continue if need be. Then, you finally let your grin show before you burst into a fit of laughter. His raised brows lowered then furrowed, completely confused with the situation before him as you were doubled over giggling.

“No dumbass, but that’s what you get for making me wait so long,” you breathed out through your chuckles, watching the color return to Tom’s face and a feeble smile show itself on those thin lips you loved so dearly.

“O-oh, sorry,” he laughed nervously along with you before actually processing your words. “Wait, you like me back?”

You nodded your head while rolling your eyes at his stupidity. Wasn’t it painfully obvious? “Yes, I like you back, piss boy, and I will gladly go out with you too. Now, will you come out and play with us?” Well, how could he say no when you asked so nicely?

“Yeah, let’s go.” So, he got up first, you following him out to where the boys were, and you watched as he did a little skip before walking up to Paddy.

“So that’s where Peter Parker gets it from,” you wondered aloud when Sam came up behind you.

“He did the skip, didn’t he?” he asked before you nodded to answer his question.

“So, he made a move, and it went well?” Harry popped up on your other side.

“Yes, he did. He’s a lot more like him than people realize,” you mentioned when Tessa found your side again and watched everyone getting ready to play.

“Maybe, but he is no genius,” Harry quipped, causing laughter to erupt from you and Sam.

“Hey, I heard that!”

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

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[tumbling-darkling]

Midnight Hang-Outs

This is a small crossover between Danny Phantom and DC! (Specifically Danny and Harley Quinn!) Following the prompts from Day 11 and 12 - Midnight and Scars (more of mentioned than revolving around it) Harley might be slightly ooc because I don’t read a lot of DC comics but maybe consider it more of like AU Harley Quinn. Mother hen. She feeds the vigilantes of Gotham on slow nights.

Harley glanced over to the boy sitting next to her on the rooftop of the Gotham Bank, she had been planning to break into it to draw out some fun with any nearby vigilantes but instead she had spotted the scrawniest looking glowing teen she’d ever seen. Well he was the only glowing teen she’d ever seen, but the poor kid was struggling against some freak in a white suit.

He had already devoured about 10 of the breakfast sandwiches she bought from a nearby 24 hour fast food joint, she couldn’t remember the name but her pal, Jeremy, always worked late shifts and gave her most of the grease filled wraps for free. Which she got a total of 20 and was beginning to worry that it wasn’t enough for this endless void. She thought she could calculate this kind of thing better based on Batsy’s kids, then again none of them had powers. That must be the factor throwing her off.

She glanced over him again, taking in his features for probably the hundredth time since she spotted him. White hair that gently wisped around his face like he was constantly underwater, pale blue-green skin with neon green freckles that sparkled like stars in the night, toxic green eyes that matched the freckles, flecks of blue hidden within the irises that shone in the right light. He hand pointed ears and little baby fangs, and his suit itself reminded her of the superheroes she’s faced before, but the material seemed all wrong when she got a closer look. It wasn’t spandex, or that thick armour like fibre that Batsy likes to use. She didn’t know what it was made out of. That flaming looking D was enough to hint at a superhero gig, like Superman and that ‘S’ on his chest. She didn’t care that it was supposed to be a symbol for hope, his name was Superman and that thing was an S, end of conversation.

The kid had taken off those gloves in order to eat, she didn’t blame him though, eating with gloves on was weird, and those white gloves would stain like a motherfucker. What caught her attention about it was the scars. Little one littered this kid's hands, and then there was a ligament scar coating his left hand. It was the brightest of all the scars, glowing slightly a wicked green as if he was still being electrocuted.

She turned her gaze back to the streets below, “So, what are you doing out this late?” She asked, avoiding sensitive topics like the scar. “It has to be way past midnight at this point.”

The kid glanced over to her, then shrugged, “had to chase Boxy all the way out here, the dude flies fast for a ghost obsessed in boxes.”

Harley glanced back over, noticing the kid now had finished the last of the sandwiches as he looked in the bag for more, shoving the garbage into it once he confirmed there was nothing left, “Boxy? Was that the freak in white?”

The kid shook his head, “nah, that was a government agent. G.I.W, or the Guys in White. Must’ve followed me, cornered me after I was already exhausted from chasing Boxy all over town. Boxy is the Box Ghost, blue ghost dude in overalls, fairly harmless but he can be a pain in the ass when he wants to be.”

“Want me to blow the rest of those agents up for you?” Harley asked, leaning closer while flashing a sinister grin.

The kid jerked back, “no! No it’s fine, just caught me off guard! I can handle them just fine, you don’t need to blow anyone up!” He squeaked out quickly, wildly waving his hands around. Harley couldn’t help but grin at the display, he reminded her a lot of Batsy’s kids. Energetic, good hearts (most of the time), think they can handle the world.

“So are you one of Batsy’s kids? Harley voiced her thoughts.

The kid blinked owlishly at her, “Batsy’s… you mean Batman? The Batman?”

Harley shrugged, “yeah, Batsy. He has quite a lot of them so I like to try and stay updated when he gets a new kid. You almost fit the bill, young teen, dark past, though the powers would be new.”

“How do you know I have a dark past?”

“Well, you said you were a ghost, right? Meaning you died and judging by your age, died before you even finished high school. I’d call that a dark past,” she kept out the lingering question of how he died, that wasn’t something you exactly ask someone when you first meet them. “So you aren’t one of Batsy’s kids?”

The kid shook his head, “nope,” he popped the p, “never even met the dark knight before. I barely visit Gotham, well anywhere if I can help it, I try to keep my problems in my home turf.”

“I see, you know what, I should’ve known better. Batsy would never let his kids run around this late anyway,” she hummed. “I did once see him chew a Robin out for fighting crime past his curfew, it got me arrested for sticking around to watch but boy was it worth it!” She laughed. She was surprised that Batman hadn’t gotten to this kid yet, anyhow. He didn’t always stick around Gotham ever since he joined that hero club, but that just meant that this dude had even more of a chance to find this kid. Must be dumb luck or something.

“Batman puts curfews on his sidekicks?” The kid asked, mouth agape.

“Well duh, the guy is all about the well-being of his kids. He has a no killing rule but he gets close to breaking it when one of his kids gets almost killed. He keeps them well fed, makes sure they sleep, I know because I can hear him from across rooftops at times and I fight enough of his kids to notice they aren’t skin and bones like you.”

The kid looked down at his ungloved hands, and she noticed him tracing the pattern of the ligament scar lightly with his other hand. His expression changed as he seemed to run through a series of thoughts before he spoke again, “why did you help me?” He asked, not looking up to meet her eyes, “you are a villain, right? You fight Batman and Robin, and other superheroes too if they face you. You know I’m not a villain, you said so yourself. So why help me? Wouldn’t it be better to just let a vigilante kid get knocked off so you don’t have to deal with him in future crimes?”

Harley felt her heart shatter, who the fuck hurt this kid like this? “I’m not some heartless bitch,” she said in a matter of fact tone, “you and all the teen sidekicks or vigilantes out there are still fucking kids. I have morals, and some villains don’t have the same morals as me, but seeing you getting kicked around by some freak in an alley where no one could see you? That kind of shit rubs me the wrong way. I fight teen heroes from time to time because I know they can handle it, they can fight back and I myself won’t stoop so low as to kill them if I manage to get in a few lucky hits.” She lightly nudged his shoulder, “and it’s not like you’ve personally wronged me or anything. I felt like being nice, helping out. You seem like a good kid, so why not help you out? Maybe one day I can call a favour and you can distract Bats while I kidnap the president?” She joked.

The kid looked up suddenly, sending his hair in rippling waves as he was giving her a wide eyed and the most worried look imaginable. She couldn’t help but let out another laugh, “I’m joking!” She clarified. “But I think we could have some pretty interesting game nights with Ivy. Not illegal game night, more like Uno or something. Maybe just a little gambling.”

The kid relaxed again, “well… uh… thanks. For helping me. And the food. And talking,” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at the sky.

“No problem, be sure to come visit again. Hey, maybe I can even introduce you to Bats at some point! Make a big show and pretend you are a villain and then BAM! Just kidding he’s just a glowing vigilante I helped out once!” She stood up, stretching her arms a little, “be sure to take it easy on your way to your home by the way, maybe take a nap or something on the way there.”

The kid nodded with a smile and stood up with her, then paused as shock filled his eyes and he spun quickly towards Harley, “Wait- how do you know I sleep-?”

Harley laughed, “well, I don’t think ghosts normally eat, so I’m assuming you sleep too,” she offered a soft smile, “just take it easy, and hey, if you ever find yourself in trouble.” Harley then pulled out a business card she usually kept for shits and giggles, handing over the poorly designed card to the kid, “know that you have a friend in Gotham who’s ready to help. And who knows how to get Batsy’s attention the fastest.” She winked.

The kid took the card, a confused grin tugging at his lips, “thanks. Hey, uh. I go by Phantom. Since I never really introduced myself.”

“Well Phantom, nice to meet you,” Harley grinned back.

[pufflyhallows]

Getaway

Gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Business is going bad after the war and Fred is not feeling so great, so you decide to cheer him up with a special trip.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, language, tiny tiny bit of angst, still fluffy tho

a/n: this is my FIRST smut EVER so... be nice? also, Fred fucking LIVES bc I’m in denial forever lol

Word count: 4,3k

********

You wanted to surprise Fred.

He had been feeling down lately. Ever since he and George reopened the shop after the war, things had been a little tough. The movement was still quite slow, given the fact that people were still recovering from the war, mourning their lost ones and starting new lives. It was a difficult time for everyone, and of course it affected Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes as well.

What ached your heart the most was the fact that there wasn’t much you could do to help him. Every day you watched as he took longer to get out of bed in the morning, how he sounded slower and quieter when talking to you and, the worst part, how he acted quite mechanic when doing his chores around the shop, the same ones he enjoyed so much in the past and had always gotten done with a bright smile on his face. And although he never stopped caring for you or being loving to you, the bedroom had become… inactive. And you missed it. You missed being intimate with your boyfriend, but every time you tried to initiate it, he would softly decline, claiming to be too tired. You believed it. You could see he was indeed exhausted. And not only physically, but mentally too. Perhaps the latter was actually the one weighing more.

George, however, was quite the opposite. He kept his optimism high and was always the first to wake up every morning, excited with the new day and new possibilities. He would often go out and promote the shop, talk to people and sometimes even manage to bring a customer in.

This big difference between them worried you. No, you did not expect the twins to act the same, but you hoped in secret that Fred would follow his brother’s steps and cheer up a bit.

Cheer up. Yeah. That was exactly what he needed. And what better way to cheer up someone than a surprise trip? That’s how you were going to take his mind off of work. With Hermione’s help, you planned a very romantic weekend trip out of town. You talked to George beforehand, of course, but he assured you he could take care of the shop by himself for two days. He agreed Fred needed this.

“It’s not like we’re getting many customers anyway,” he had said.

So, as Friday approached, you felt the excitement building up. You managed to act completely nonchalant around him, making sure he didn’t suspect a thing. It wasn’t a big, expensive hotel because you knew he would worry about money and that was the opposite of what you wanted for this trip. Hermione had helped you pick a small, comfy hotel that was quite charming and fit your pocket perfectly. You wanted to make sure Fred felt loved, cared for and relaxed. There was also a little extra surprise inside your suitcase that you really hoped he would like…

What you didn’t know was that Fred felt guilty. He reckoned he hadn’t been the boyfriend you deserved lately, but he couldn’t help it. The stress was almost eating him alive and his mind was always wandering back to the shop, worrying about its future. You had been so kind and patient with him, he knew you deserved better than that. The whole thing was snowballing and sometimes he couldn’t see it ending.

That Friday, when you got home from work, the shop was still open and there was actually a customer inside, talking with George. You felt relief wash over you, because you knew what that meant: Fred was probably in a good mood.

You walked straight to the flat, not daring to interrupt George, but you stopped in the middle of the stairs to watch. He was speaking with such enthusiasm, showing and explaining his products to the young boy, that it filled you with pride. You caught his eyes for a brief moment and noticed the smallest of smirks appear on his lips. Smiling back, you nodded at him. Fred was nowhere to be seen, though, so you went upstairs.

There was a delicious scent coming from the kitchen. The older twin was there, cooking. You smiled to yourself at the sight. His favorite The Weird Sisters record was playing somewhere in the flat, adding a familiar, comfortable feel to the whole scene. Fred’s back was facing you while he chopped… carrots? on the counter. He didn’t seem to notice your presence just yet, so you took advantage of that. Placing your bag on the nearest chair, you walked in quiet steps towards your boyfriend. The fresh mint aroma coming from him meant he had probably just showered. Oh, and how you missed showering with him.

You couldn’t refrain your smile from growing even bigger once you noticed Fred’s body was swinging from side to side, so imperceptibly that you almost missed it. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek on his back. You felt him tense up for a mere second before realizing who it was. He soon relaxed, letting go of the knife and placing his clean hand on yours.

“Didn’t hear you coming in,” he stated, voice low and raspy.

You hummed in response and placed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. Fred turned around and briefly met your lips with his.

“It’s gonna take a while. Why don’t you go take a bath?”

“I will,” you nodded, running your hand from his chest to his shoulder and squeezing it gently. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay”, you repeated. “Well, I hope I can make it better. I have a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I have an idea of how we can spend your days off.”

“Hm… Making plans already, are we?”

“Very good plans, yes. But you’ll have to wait until dinner.”

“Or you could tell me right now so I won’t have to.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirked and gave him another peck on the lips before rushing off the kitchen and leaving your boyfriend to his curiosity and imagination.

The warm bath made you think about a lot of things and you came to realize you were very lucky. The war was over and there you were, taking a bath in your boyfriend’s flat, the person you loved the most in the world. So many people lost their loved ones, their homes, their entire lives in that war. You knew you had many reasons to feel happy and should not take them for granted. Life was good for you right now, and you acknowledged it, promising to yourself that you were going to enjoy it the best you could, with Fred by your side.

George joined the two of you for dinner, which turned out to be the best you had in months. Not because of the food, although it was perfect, but because it felt like everything was back to normal, like all the meals you had shared before the war. Maybe it was the idea of a day off and the mention of a surprise from you, but you could see that Fred was already less gloomy or aloof.

After the meal, as if sensing you wanted to reveal your plans to Fred, George excused himself to his bedroom, claiming he still had to finish some work. You wished him goodnight, not missing the discrete wink he gave you.

“So…” you started, watching as Fred emptied his glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember when I said I had an idea on how to spend your days off?”

“Oh, yes. The surprise.”

“Well… I figured you could use a little rest from everything, so I made a reservation at a very nice hotel for the two of us to spend the weekend at.”

“You what?” Fred asked, a small smile starting to grace his lips.

“The portkey is set for our departure at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts,” you shook your head. “I have already packed our bags.”

“Y/N, doll, I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me I’m amazing, the best thing that ever happened to you, an angel sent from heaven…  Something humble like that.”

Fred chuckled, that contagious sound you missed hearing so much. “You’re amazing. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, a true angel sent from heaven.”

“I know! We’re gonna have so much fun,” you smiled excitedly, clasping your hands together.

“What exactly are your plans for us, though?” your boyfriend questioned, curiosity dripping from his lips.

“Oh, you’ll find out once we’re there.”

“The surprise doesn’t end here, I see.”

“Exactly. I have everything planned, baby.”

The look in Fred’s eyes seemed to indicate he had an idea of what you had planned, but he did not say a word about it. He would like to see the surprise reveal itself in the right moment. He wasn’t going to spoil your plans in any way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always had your doubts when it came to ads, but this time you had to admit this was spot on. The hotel looked exactly like its pictures and descriptions.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” the receptionist asked as soon as you stepped in the lobby.

It was something so small, so simple, but it made your heart flutter and stomach fill with those restless butterflies. Mrs. Weasley. Were you ever going to become that? You wondered if Fred even noticed the little misunderstanding.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Actually, it’s just one Weasley. Fred Weasley. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your slight flustered manner didn’t go unnoticed by Fred. Despite the obvious nervousness, he thought it was rather cute. In fact, he liked to hear you be called that. Perhaps he should do something about it…

“Oh, I apologize. Mr. Weasley and Miss Y/L/N,” the receptionist corrected herself as she checked the reservation’s book. “You’re right on time, your room is ready for you. I just need your wands for ID confirmation before I give you your key.”

Both of you handed your wands to the young woman behind the desk and she did as she was supposed to. Sooner than you had anticipated, you were in the lovely suite you had reserved.

Fred placed the small handbag on the bed – blessed be the extension charm, that’s all you had to carry for that trip – and walked around the room curiously. You went straight for the big window and opened the curtains. There it was. The view you had seen on the ad and that had made you instantly choose this hotel.

“Fred,” you called softly, looking behind you. “Come see.”

Your boyfriend let go of the catalog on the nightstand and approached you, eyeing the outside in awe.

“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

When making the reservation, you were met with the question: would you like a room with view to the street/village or to the beach? And you chose the beach, although the village was a lovely sight. Now, seeing Fred’s reaction, you were absolutely sure you had made the right choice.

The hotel was in a small village where both wizards and muggles lived. With a little help from magic, the wizards could go unnoticed and the muggles lived everyday life without a single clue of the existence of such peculiar neighbors. The beach was right behind the village, and your room being in the back of the hotel, you had a wonderful privileged view of nature’s beauty.

“Wanna go down there?” you asked.

“What’s in your plans?” he asked back, switching his gaze from the window to you.

“Beach,” you replied with a small smile. “Basically the entire day at the beach, lunch at a muggle restaurant down there too. But dinner here.”

“I’ll follow your script, doll.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his lips ever so gently on yours. You instantly let go of the curtains so you could run your fingers through his soft hair. The light fabric fell back to its place, covering the windows again and leaving the room a little darker than before. Fred’s gentle kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

No, not yet.

You broke the kiss and pulled back, biting your lip as you started to feel that you might not be able to wait until the right time for your surprise.

“I’m starving,” you whispered against his lips.

“Me too,” he pulled you closer again.

“Let’s go, then.” You managed to get out of his embrace and grab the handbag before heading to the bathroom to change into your bathing suit.

A hungry Fred was left standing by the big window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been hard.

It had been hard seeing you in so little clothing, dripping wet, skin glistening as droplets of water reflected the sunlight. But Fred managed.

All he had in his mind every time he saw you leaving the water was how he wanted to take you then and there. He had to distract himself from those thoughts, paying attention to what you were saying but not too much to your moving lips. He knew you had something planned and he was appreciative of how much effort you had put in this weekend for him. That was the only reason he wasn’t indulging to his not-so-pure thoughts.

Lunch was a good distraction too, specially since you had to convince a muggle child she had imagined it when she saw Fred stop his falling fork mid-air.

Now, as the two of you walked hand in hand back to the hotel, he wondered if he was going to be rewarded for the self-control test he had just passed. You were humming a song as you observed the houses, trying to guess which ones were muggles and which ones were wizards.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Dinner!” you answered excitedly. “But, if I were you, I wouldn’t go overboard.”

“Why, if I may ask?” but Fred already suspected why.

“Well… there might be plans for after dinner as well.”

Fred held your hand tighter and pulled you towards the hotel in a faster pace. You chuckled, feeling the excitement grow bigger and bigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dessert?” the waiter asked as he took the empty plates from your table.

“No, thank you,” Fred replied before you had the chance. “We’re calling it a night, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you smirked at your boyfriend before looking at the waiter. “I’d like chocolate pudding, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the waiter left, Fred gave you a look.

“What?” you asked nonchalantly.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t go overboard.”

“I’m not going overboard. I had a small plate,” you shrugged.

“Right,” Fred sighed, bouncing his leg under the table.

When your chocolate pudding came, you grabbed the spoon and took a small amount to your mouth. Fred watched your every move, arms crossed and brows slightly furrowed as he saw you slowly lick the spoon. You pretended you didn’t know he was watching, eyes on the tiny bowl in front of you, and you mouthed another spoon, unintentionally getting pudding all over your lips.

Your boyfriend gulped as he watched you run your thumb over your lower lip, getting rid of the chocolate there, and gently suck on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” you looked at him innocently.

“Just eat the damn thing.”

“You want some?” you raised the spoon at him.

“Yes, I want some.”

You felt your cheeks burn just a little bit with his remark, heart begin to race as the ideas for what you wanted to do to him tonight started to flood your mind.

“If you wait patiently, you might get what you want,” you teased, looking back at the bowl and already serving another spoon, which you quickly brought to your lips, licking all the content off of it.

Fred shook his head, one corner of his lips going upwards ever so slightly, eyes glued on you.

“You sure you don’t want to taste it?” you offered again, lips glistening as you cleaned them with your tongue.

“I will taste it,” his eyes pierced through your body and suddenly the hotel was too hot.

You had barely served the last spoon of pudding when Fred stood up and let the waiter know you were headed to the room.

“I haven’t finished yet,” you protested and he immediately took the last spoon from your hand and into his mouth.

“Now you have,” he said as he pulled you from the chair.

The way back to the suite felt much longer than it actually was, but as soon as you reached the door, Fred’s lips were on yours. You had trouble to get the key with your boyfriend’s hands all over you, pulling your body hard against his.

“Fred,” you breathed, stepping back. “There’s another surprise.”

Before he could say anything, you unlocked the door and went inside.

“Sit down,” you slowly pushed him to the bed. “And close your eyes.”

Fred complied with no protests, but you could see he was getting flustered, probably guessing what was coming.

You blew out most of the candles illuminating the room and left only a few to create the romantic atmosphere you wanted. You went to the bathroom and changed into the expensive lacy lingerie you had bought for this exact occasion. It was red, a color you had learned Fred was very fond of when it came to this kind of clothing, and had one small, delicate bow right between your breasts.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked from the bathroom, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” you heard in response.

“No peeking ‘til I tell you to,” you warned.

“…‘kay.”

You opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Fred was still sitting on the bed, one leg bouncing impatiently, and a slight frown between his eyebrows.

Slowly, you approached the bed and stood right in front of him.

“Open your eyes,” you whispered.

As soon as he did, Fred sucked in a shaky, quiet breath. He eyed you from head to toe, not hiding his astonishment.

“Baby,” he mumbled in a deep voice, already feeling his pants get a little too tight as his eyes still traveled through your entire figure.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip.

“Good,” you smiled, placing your hands on each of his shoulders. “Now let me show you how proud I am to be your girlfriend.”

Your lips met Fred’s in a slow, deep kiss as you climbed the bed and straddled him, your arms thrown around his neck. Fred let out a soft moan when he felt your weight against his lap, his hands going up your back, fingertips sending shivers down your spine as they searched for the bra clasp. However, you stopped them and placed them back on your hips.

“Not so fast,” you whispered against his lips.

Before he could protest, you kissed him again, now pushing him all the way back to lay down on the bed. Hovering above him, you started pulling up his shirt, which he quickly got rid of for you. You chuckled. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had missed this.

Now that you had free access to his torso, you began to place soft, wet kisses on his neck, slowly moving down to his chest and stomach, painfully taking your time.

You could feel Fred’s breathing get deeper and deeper as you kissed his abs, working your way down to his pants. Once there, you stopped the kisses for a brief moment, so you could focus on getting rid of that piece of fabric. Again, Fred quickly helped you out until you were both just in your underwear.

The sight sent goosebumps through your body and you inevitably bit your lower lip. He was already so hard, you felt the anticipation building up inside you.

You decided to torture him for a little bit – just a little bit – and carried on with the kisses, not taking off his underwear quite yet. However, Fred’s impatience was growing and he didn’t think he would manage to wait for too long. His hand found your hair and he started stroking it, running his fingers through it, a disguised way to guide your head to where he needed you the most. You realized his intentions, but you did not stop him. You let him take you where he wanted and soon your lips found his still covered length.

“Shit, Y/N.”

You smirked.

Slowly, you started pulling down the last piece of clothing until you completely freed him. He was so beautiful. You still had a silly smile on your face as you ran your tongue all the way up from the base to the tip, where you placed a gentle kiss. Fred’s soft moan reached your ears, a beautiful sound that made you even more wet.

You took him in your mouth and started sucking the tip in a slow, teasing pace, while your hand loosely stroked him. You didn’t want him to cum yet. You wanted him to last. And you were going to make him last.

Fred’s hand never left your hair, and he began to slightly pull it, asking for more. He needed more.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Y/N, please.”

You ignored him and kept going in that insanely slow pace, taking your time. What was the hurry?

You heard a low groan, and felt him move his hips against you. You stopped.

“Behave yourself, Weasley.”

“Baby… Please.”

You smirked again, giving him one last stroke, and you let go of him.

Fred looked at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. His eyes were dark, full of pure lust. But also desperation and discontent with the sudden lack of touch.

You crawled on the bed until your face was right above his, and you kissed him. It was a deep, passionate, hurried kiss between two people who were eager for each other. This time, you didn’t stop Fred’s hands from going up your back and unclasping your bra. He took it off and you quickly felt his left hand on your right breast, squeezing it. His right hand, however, was going up and down your side, sending shivers through your bare skin. He rested it on your waist for a little bit before going down to your ass and squeezing it tightly. You moaned against his lips, your own impatience growing.

You only stopped the kiss to get rid of your panties, the last piece of fabric separating you from him.

Fred watched as you got off of him and started to pull it down your smooth legs. He could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of your completely naked body. You were breathtakingly, heart-racingly beautiful. He loved the lingerie, he really did, but he loved your body a thousand times more. And he would never get tired of looking at it.

When you straddled him again, skin to skin now, he thought he would cum right then and there. You smiled at him, that beautiful smile that never changed, and kissed him one more time. Fred placed his hands on your waist, squeezing it gently, as if to encourage you. Not wasting another second, you guided his tip to your entrance and slowly sank down on him, allowing him to get all the way inside you, quite easily given how wet you were.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned.

Letting out your own whimpers, you placed your hands on his chest and started riding him, still slowly, still teasingly. Fred’s moans soon turned into groans, complaints. He was getting tired of the teasing, he was already on edge. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a swift move, Fred shifted the both of you so now he was on top. He started thrusting into you, quite roughly, earning a loud approving moan from you.

“Fred,” you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He kept going, pounding harder and harder, moaning as he did so.

You started kissing his neck, biting, sucking, anything that would leave a mark.

“Yes, baby,” you cried out as he thrusted even deeper.

The bed was making a discreet creaking sound that you weren’t sure if the people in the other rooms could hear. You hoped not, but honestly? Right now you didn’t care. The sound of Fred’s heavy breaths, moans, groans and whimpers were all you were paying attention to. Beautiful sounds that had the power to shut down anything else in your mind.

The rhythm he had created was sending you to heaven with every motion. His lips soon found your own again and he kissed you as if he hadn’t done it just minutes before.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m close.”

“Me too.”

As you felt your body tense, Fred came inside you with a low groan, slowing down just a tad bit. He kept thrusting, however, knowing you were about to reach your climax too. And not long after him, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, and your body relaxed completely.

Both of you were panting against each other’s neck, your arms still loosely around his shoulders as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on top of you.

Hugging him more tightly, you felt Fred leave small kisses on your neck, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the extra-tingly sensation. You started to run your fingernails up and down his back, the other hand caressing his hair.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the giggling of children playing down there, and the muffled music coming from the muggle restaurant. You felt so at ease.

After a long moment of peaceful, comforting silence, Fred looked up and smiled. “I love you so much.”

You smiled back. “I love you too.”

Not bad for round one.

********

[scott-mccall-the-hot-girl]

theodore raeken: missing persons

( okay so i kinda had an idea ,, and then went through the whole teen wolf timeline to see if it would work ,, so here it is !!

theo’s backstory !! it started off way more messy headcannon format & then it got kinda a real story vibe ,, def thinking about making it an ao3 one shot eventually )

-

TW: very sad & hurt my feelings

don't imagine:

eight year old theo raeken...

who sleeps at his best friend scott mccall's house almost every single night, stiles is almost always there too.

theo and his friends where they all watch movies together until ungodly hours of the morning. stiles loved star wars, theo will never forget that. they had gone as luke, han and chewy for halloween that previous year. melissa went as leia. scott has always been more of a indiana jones fan himself. theo would watch either, anywhere where harrison ford was theo didn't mind being.

in this little trio, who were all raised in the mccall house, where they were given eveything they needed. sometimes when theo thought about her, when he needed to remember the good things in life. he never quite knew how she managed. expecially with scott's dad who floated in and out of the picture.

yet, it always was melissa who gave scott extra lunches to take to school because theo and his sister, who were often forgotten by their parents usually were left to fend for themselves and a fourteen year old girl rarely had the funds or mind to give a growing boy a nutritious lunch. these packed lunches always with the crust off because that's the way theo liked it. melissa always remembered.

theo had three favorite places: scott's bedroom, the corner next to his bed where theo's blow up mattress was. the bridge in which tara and he crossed everyday on their way back to raekens from school. his final place was actually beacon hills elementary.

theo always liked school. theo was good at school. he didn't realize this until mellisa had pointed out an exceptional report card. he didn't think it was much of anything to be proud of.

he liked recognizing big words from english class and novels that would help him when his mom watched jeopardy. she would watch the show every night. sitting in a daze in the raekens dark living room. not paying much mine to the eight year old, until he started blurting out the answers to her favorite show. she beamed at him. he loved his mother's smile, she had the same dimples as tara.

so yeah, when a seventeen year old theo raeken spent months filing the names of anyone ever involved in the mccall pack, current members, deceased and ones that just fell out of beacon hills. he remebered some names.

theo raeken grew up in beacon hills, and beacon hill wasn't to big of a town.

theo rembered issac lahey a quiet boy who had been in his thrid grade class, jackson whittemore who was a grade older than them and everyone knew him because he was was offered a spot on the middle school lacross team, he knew erica reyes who he rembered for her epilepsy and it made him hate himself a little less for being the king of the heart condition, he even remebered names like derek hale- who was in the same grade as tara. theo even rembered the name malia tate as she was small girl who did go to beacon hills elementary, who was always startled and always walked a bit faster than everyone else through the halls. or even lydia martin, a girl stiles had a crush on. she talked to theo a lot, lydia used to call him teddy, he didn't know when it started but he let her do it purely to spite the fact that lydia gave theo a nickname and never bothered to acknowledge stiles.

theo rembered all of them, i mean for years of his life all he had to rely on was his memory to make sure it was real.

though during the line memories turned bitter and he was left with the sour taste of resentment.

so it was weird to think despite it all, that year was one of theo's best. he never felt like he belonged. sure he had scott and stiles before but gaining friendship & being labeled as an "inseparable trio" by the sheriff station deputies, whenever they rang havoc through their office made theo's mouth crack a toothy grin. he felt like he had a family.

that was until the air started getting colder in beacon hills. theo started hearing the voices. though, even so much later in life he never could quite pin point how it started, like his brain couldn't truly decipher what was going on. some of it felt like dream, though the dreams and the thoughts. sometimes they didn't feel like his own and made him so scared he would leave the day feeling nauseous.

though this all came in spurts. his birthday was that november, and that was magical. he spent the weekend with stiles and scott, theo's mom actually made the point to bring the three of them bowling. the boys pitched in on buying theo a big millennium falcon lego set because he was always doing things with his hands, something he picked up not being so most athletic of the bunch. they also got him big poster of han solo just to spite him. he blushed and yelled at them for stupid gifts but they knew by the smile on his face he loved them.

he loved so much because despite the fact that they were poking fun at him ever so lightly, they were good natured and they held thought. they really thought about theo enough to know what he liked. he never had that before.

so the voices started getting louder again around christmas time. it was weird for theo, the happiest time of the year filled him with such excessive dread. it didn't feel right. theo's life changed that month.

then one day scott and stiles get sit down because something tragic happened. tara raeken is dead. the details are fuzzy and they don't really understand how, seeing as these boys are just in fourth grade. they are horrified, it's one of the only other times they've experienced death besides with stiles mom. though claudia stilinksi was sick, sometimes sick people die. learning about tara left a bad taste in their mouth. she was young.

they try and call, bike past is his house. they don't hear from him. they go to her funeral, scott and stiles, high on anxiety attached to their parents just trying to sneak a peak of where their best friends may be. he's gone, that's the conclusion they come to, he's gone. they don't know how it could have happened, they just know that he isn't there. why wouldn't he be there?

they try and talk to the raekens but haunted by their daughters death, they paid less attention to theo than before. they barley give them a straight answer, melissa explains what grief can do to a family and not to blame them but is equally suspicious.

just take a minute to think, while scott and stiles are scared and searching for their best friend, theo raeken, barley nine years old is given a heart transplant. alone in a dark and cold sewer hidden deep under beacon hills, horrified and a failure, that's what the dread doctors tell him. a boy who keeps quiet, does what needs to be done and has to survive. doing absolutely everything he can to be kept around, the second he heals (which theo recognizes is abnormally fast) the doctors are straight out of beacon hills.

the doctors eventually find his parents too, who leave beacon hills, he doesn't exactly know what happened to them. he doesn't everything he can not to think about the possibilities. he hopes he has a chance, survival instincts flourish but the ideal of living isn't quite the same as surviving.

one day, the doctors inform him he has absolutely nothing to go back to, he figured this he just be didn't think they would actually tell him. they never told him much.

they are far away from beacon hills- much farther than he assumed. he has no sister, and his parents are gone.

he is alone, and he is finding out that now, he has one more secret to hide. the poor boy has claw and fangs and often thinks about using them to rip himself apart, i mean he deserves it right? he just watched his sister die, to go down with the last living part of her, his own heart.

while theo is expecting his fate, stiles and scott and stuck in months of confusion. missing posters of the boys face are strung up everywhere they can reach, once his parents are gone. they know they need to do everything they can.

mellisa feels like she's been punched in the gut, so she helps her boys. she calls every hospital in the county, and then she starts reaching out to some of the bigger hospitals in the state. spreading word of a missing nine year old like wildfire. she spends nights after her shift arguing with noah stilinksi, he has been looking to. he tries to bargain logic with her.

"yeah it's strange he never said goodbye, he wasnt at the funeral- it's weird, yes, but his parents left too. their daughter just died melissa. maybe they didn't want to stay."

melissa knows, yeah that makes sense. theo had to of just moved with the raekens but something about it doesn't feel like it makes sense.

he would have said goodbye to her. she knows it.

other people in beacon hills were actually thinking the same thing, something wasn’t quite making sense.

those other people being some who can sense unrest in supernatural frequencies. a family who makes it their business to monitor the supernatural. the hales.

though, talia hales supernatural concerns didn't often revolve around fourteen year old girls who drown, shes curious. the girl, was in dereks grade. the mother in her falters but it doesn't get strange until the police reports reveal the fact that the girls heart was gone, she was found. gaping chest wound, lying in the river.

so she starts to suspect somethings wrong. she's seen the raekens case, something about it doesn't make sense. sure, the death of a teenage girl is overwhelmingly tragic but there isn't much to investigate. though talk of the raekens is getting loud, she comes to find out this is because of the raekens youngest, who was nowhere to be seen days before the funeral.

she knows the hunters are back in beacon hills. so wonders if the two correlate. so she starts asking questions.

talia, with her daughter in tow see two boys standing outside the sheriffs station, stopping people when they walk in to show they a poster. it's theo raekens missing poster, though there isn't much official about it. it seems like the sheriffs department couldn't issue anything official, so as she walks up to the boys seemed to have made dozens of copies themselves. there information seems formal enough.

she catches their anxiety heighten as talia hands the poster over to laura who stands behind her.

the taller one raises a brow, "have you seen him anywhere miss?"

she smiles, "miss hale- you can call me talia though. this is my daughter laura. we haven't seen your friend but we'd like to help..."

the taller boy nods, "well, i'm scott. that's stiles. how could you help?"

talia hale lies easily, "i've heard about what happened to the raekens and it sparked my concern. i have a friend, local sheriffs station who is awfully good with the police dogs. if you have anything that your friend owned i might be able to call i'm a favor."

a few days later, stiles had found her in the same spot as last time with a small black sweater. she smiled and told him she would do her best to help these two boys. not sure if her intrest in the case was supernatural based or because she didn't want these boys, who smelled like anxiety and exhaustion to fall down the hole of loss themselves. she wasn't sure where investigating theo’s disappearance themselves would leave them, she didn't want them getting caught up in the supernatural spiderweb of beacon hills.

though, talia hale looses scent and momentum on the case. literally and metaphorically. she finds herself near some suspicious tunnels, leading right under beacon hills but scent falls short. she's frustrated, and the time since his disappearance is lengthening but her families needs become increasingly concerning.

she's listens, she likes to know what's going on. so when she hears her sixteen year old whispering a bit more with her kid brother she raises suspicion. she doesn't trust peter like she used to, not after getting involved with the desert wolf.

paige dies months after that, dereks heartbroken and talia is trying to put together pieces of a story that turned her babies eyes blue. to young. beacon hills doesn't quite understand how another student is dead, with no previous medical history. this, the death of paige she knows is supernatural.

kate argent moves to town and in months, the hale house is burned to the ground. inside, theo raekens black sweater. tucked away in a room, where news clippings and missing posters caught fire the fastest.

so with no surprise, another tragedy is unleashed and it's the talk of the town. memory of theo starts to fade, like most things do in beacon hills. it's not anybodies fault but it still stings. though, theo million miles away hasn't felt much of anything latley.

it's been a little over a year. he hasn't cried in the past three months. he won't let himself. nobody is going to find him. he isn't going to het out. so he puts up his walls, as many as he can. he just has to stay alive a little bit longer. make something worth taras sacrifice. they had started to kill off more of the chimeras, more of their science experiments. he can't get killed, he can't do that to tara.

theo was always a fast learner. theo always liked school. theo was good at school. this wasnt exactly the same as math class at beacon hills elementary but he was picking up skills quickly. theo didn't quite recognize himself after that year. he wasn't that same boy, and that had to suite him just fine. he never had much of a choice in this. he just chose to try and keep her heart beating for as long as he could.

so theo raeken adjusted, he had to.

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 3 of 27: Honesty

Summary:  Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 2

A/N: I’ve come to the realization that I’ve changed so much in this story during the past few days and added some chapters that it can probably already count as a slow-burn fic. I guess. Not sure. Have fun! Thanks for the lovely feedback! I love you all to death <3

Words: 3583 Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!Reader, post-war Warnings: mentions of sex, light swearing

It was weird being back at Hogwarts. Something about it still didn’t feel right. After the war, it was unimaginable for you to come back here and finish school. But they took their time and closed it off for over a year. The school got rebuilt, the victims buried, the survivors tried to heal and move on. On the first anniversary of the end of the war, McGonagall – the new headmistress of Hogwarts – publicly announced that the school would open for the coming year and the seventh graders were given the chance to repeat their year.

You were excited about coming back and seeing your friends again, gaining a little bit of normalcy. School, homework, petty drama – you wanted nothing more than to be busy with all of those things. Yet something felt different when you stood in the Great Hall for the first time after your arrival. Something had changed. You had changed.

“You’re daydreaming again, Y/N.”

Ginny’s voice pulled you back into reality. Your best friend sat across from you with her eyebrows raised, chewing on a croissant.

“Tired,” you replied and smiled briefly.

“From what?”, she asked. “You left super early last night!”

“Yeah, because it was super boring.”

The redhead shook her head. “It was not! There was a fight between two Hufflepuffs and that’s the best indicator for a fun party.”

You chuckled. “Is it though?!”

“Or,” suddenly she put down her croissant. A devious smile appeared on her face and she began talking with a lowered voice: “Did you leave the party early with your date to –”

“I beg you to not finish that sentence, please!”

Ginny laughed. “Oh come on! McLaggen is kinda cute!”

“He’s awful.”

“He doesn’t need a good character to –”

“Ginny!” You playfully threw an apple at her. She caught it, laughing. “You’re the worst,” you said and shook your head.

Just when you wanted to change the topic, someone else started walked in. You stopped midsentence, staring at the couple who were coming down the hall, holding hands.

Ginny saw them too and she knew what you were about to do next. “Don’t, Y/N,” she said softly. “Stay here. At some point, you’ll have to face them. They’re our friends. He’s my brother. We have classes together now.”

You knew she was right. Yet, running away still seemed like a better option to you. Ginny sensed that, reached over the table and squeezed your hand. “Stay,” she repeated.

Ron and Hermione sat down right beside you, cheerfully wishing you a good morning. You didn’t reply but smiled at Harry instead who sat down next to Ginny and gave her a kiss. They were a cute couple and you were happy for the both of them. They finally found each other.

The four began to talk right away. It was still exciting to be in the same year as them, to finally share classes and spend so much time together. Well, not for you to be honest. You could happily live without seeing Ron every day.

You tuned out their conversation after a while, still debating whether or not you should leave the table. Your eyes drifted over the other students in the Great Hall and got stuck at the Slytherins. Not many people sat there as most of them had already finished breakfast. Before you knew what you were doing, you noticed he wasn’t here.

You felt a little sting of disappointment and frowned. Where did this came from? As if you cared about seeing Malfoy.

Saying that you didn’t replay that kiss in your mind over and over again would have been a lie. When you left the small room last night, you felt dizzy and confused. Yet you repeatedly told yourself that the kiss meant nothing. It happened so you didn’t get caught. Good god, it was Draco Malfoy, probably the last person in this school you wanted to kiss (well, besides McLaggen). So no. This kiss didn’t mean anything.

“Y/N?”, you turned your head when Hermione said your name.

“Why are you staring at the Slytherins?”, she asked.

You shrugged but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “No reason. I was thinking.”

She frowned. Ginny and Harry looked at each other in confusion.

“So? What is it?”, you asked.

“Right, um, we wanted to ask if you’d like to come play Quidditch with us?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you play Quidditch?”

“Ron taught me over the summer,” she smiled at her boyfriend. “Besides, they have to try out for the team in two weeks anyways so why not practice a little.”

You looked at Ron who stared at his plate. He probably felt as comfortable with the thought of you playing together as you did. The way he avoided your eyes made you angry though.

“No, sorry”, you quickly said and suddenly stood up. “Homework.” This was it. You had to leave.

 ***

You gritted your teeth angrily as you made your way up the stairs. God, you still hated him for how he treated you three months ago. You were supposed to be friends and he fucked it all up. Now you could barely stand the sight of him and every encounter left you feeling like you needed to punch a brick wall.

Being so lost in your thoughts, you almost ran around the corner, crashing into someone.

“Watch it, Y/L/N!”

Great.

“Watch it yourself, Malfoy!”, you snapped.

Draco Malfoy stood in front of you, one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other gripping your arm to prevent you from falling down. It must have been out of instinct because as soon as he realized he was touching you, he let go as if you were a hot plate.

“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” he stated dryly.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, lowering the tone of your voice a little. “And let me through.”

He did neither. “Did McLaggen find you after all?!”

“None of your business, Malfoy!” With that, you pushed him aside and continued walking down the corridor. You were too mad for Malfoys bullshit.

“Y/L/N!” Apparently he was particular talkative this morning.

You ignored him.

“I couldn’t care less for your obvious boy troubles –”

Who did he think he was?!

“– however, I still have something that belongs to you.”

This made you stop dead in your tracks and turn around. “What?”, you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

He smirked. “Your shoe.”

Oh. Oops.

Annoyed, you shrugged. “So give it back to me.”

“It’s in the Slytherin common room.”

“I’d rather die than go down there.”

“I’d change the attitude if I were you. After all, you want something from me,” his voice grew colder.

You were unimpressed by that. “Make me,” you shot back.

There it was again – that look on his face. The same look he had yesterday as he gazed over your body in the small room. It made you shiver – and for a second you weren’t sure if it was the good or the bad kind of shiver.

Then he smirked again: “Quidditch field. Tonight after dinner.” And while he already started walking backwards he added: “I’d rather die than be caught talking to a Gryffindor.”

Goddamn Slytherins.

***

It was unusually cold for a September night. You shivered and zipped up your jacket, regretting that you didn’t bring a scarf. No student or teacher seemed to be outside at this time, only the occasional crow flying above your head and the rustling of leaves accompanied you on your way to the Quidditch field.

The reason why Malfoy chose the Quidditch field of all places to give you back your shoe was beyond your knowledge. Yet you didn’t complain. In about half an hour, your friends would join you. Before the war, this was one of your favourite spots to just hang out and talk.

When you arrived on the field, it took you a while to spot Malfoy. He sat way up on the bleachers. You groaned and made your way up the stairs. Malfoy didn’t notice that you came as he was busy writing something in a small green notebook. Huh. Interesting.

He flinched when you sat down beside him and quickly closed the book.

“What are you writing?”, you asked curiously.

Malfoy pretended not to hear your question and instead reached inside his bag. “Here,” he pulled out your shoe, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you put in the small bag you brought. “So what are you writing?”

He looked at you with an annoyed expression. “You have what you want so you can go.”

“You’re no fun, Malfoy.”

“Says the Gryffindor.”

“Excuse me?”, you raised an eyebrow. “We’re more fun than all the Slytherins combined.”

“Right,” he scoffed.

Still, you didn’t move or leave so with a sigh, he added: “Do you have no friends to bother?”

You grinned. “I do. In fact, they’ll be here in –”, you took a look at your watch, “– twenty minutes.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Perfect.”

“Why did you tell me to meet you here?”

“I was gonna be here anyways,” he shrugged. “Easier to make you come to me.”

You ignored his sly remark. “You were going to be here anyways? Alone?”

Another shrug.

Leaning back, you watched Malfoy from the side. He had dark circles under his eyes and kept his gaze focused on the field, his fingers playing with the sides of the notebook. Something (beside you sitting next to him) bothered him.

“So what was up with you this morning?”, he broke the silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “As if you care.”

“No,” he admitted. “But you’re obviously not leaving until your friends come and that question might make you stop staring at me.”

You chuckled softly. Then you realized that he was actually waiting for an answer. “Nothing important.”

“I figured.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Probably,” Malfoy stated without any emotion in his voice.

You were silent for a few seconds. Part of you wanted to get up and leave. After all, Malfoy was probably the last one you could trust. He didn’t care and it was literally none of his business. You didn’t even like each other. Keeping it simple and vague was probably the best approach: “Dumb stuff, really. Like you said – boy troubles.”

Malfoy shifted without noticing it, turning his body more towards you, leaning in a little. “Well, now I’m curious. Who managed to make Y/L/N this mad and can he teach me?”

“I don’t know if you’re keen on Ron being your teacher,” the sentence just slipped out. You regretted it right away.

Malfoys eyes widened. “No fucking way.” Then he began to smirk – that evil, ‘I’m-better-than-you’-smirk he had perfected over the years.

Your face felt like it was on fire and you were glad it was getting dark already. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the blush. “Oh, be quiet!”

“Weasley?”, he scoffed, not believing it. He stared at you with quite the interest now. There seemed to be a lot more to you than he would have guessed. “How the fuck did that happen? Isn’t he dating the … isn’t he dating Granger?”

You knew what he wanted to call her but were surprised that he stopped himself. That never happened before.

“Yes, he is,” you mumbled and gave him a suggestive look.

This caused Malfoy to laugh. It was a dry, short laugh. He leaned back a little. “You’re kidding, right? Fucking hell, Weasel managed to not only screw you but do so while dating Granger?”

“I like how eloquently you phrased that,” you said sarcastically.

He ignored you. “How did that happen?”

“Okay, first of all”, you began, “… they weren’t dating when it happened. I’m not a homewrecker, that’s probably more of a Slytherin thing.”

“Does she know?”

“Know what?”

“Does Granger know you two f–”

“Geez, Malfoy, watch your language,” you interrupted him quickly, before you added: “And no.”

“So cheating isn’t a Gryffindor thing but lying is?”, Malfoy concluded, smirking again. “Good to know.”

“Oh, shut up,” you raised your chin. You were right about this in the beginning – you shouldn’t have told him anything. How were you supposed to get this right? Even though there was no reason for you to explain yourself to him, you still felt the need to: “They were going through a crisis and broke up and well … I spent a few weeks with their family and I always considered Ron a good friend but … but something happened. And then he ended things with me and got back together with Granger. Well, he got back together with her first and announced it in front of everyone, including me.”

“That’s how he told you that you two were over?”

You nodded. “Yup.”

“Phew,” Malfoy let out a whistle. “Wow. I must admit, I’m impressed.”

“Sure you are.”

Suddenly Malfoys facial expression changed from amusement to confusion. “So what’s the big deal now? You two screwed a few times and now he’s playing house with Granger again.”

You sent him another suggestive glance which caused him to let out another laugh.

“Please don’t tell me you got feelings for the Weasel,” he said in complete disbelief. Then his eyes suddenly began to wander further down and you realized he was looking at your … body. Rude. Before you got the chance to put him in his place, he simply said: “You can do a lot better, y’know.”

Oh. This was unexpected. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks again and felt actually a little flattered by his words. Yet, they confused you. Why would he give a Gryffindor a compliment?! Was there a hidden insult in it? Maybe a slight undertone you didn’t notice?

“It goes without saying that this conversation stays between us,” you cleared your throat. “No one knows about this whole mess except Ginny. And you.”

Malfoy nodded. “You put an awful lot of trust in me.”

“Don’t disappoint me then.”

The two of you were quiet for a few moments. It was almost completely dark by now and a nervous glance to your watch made you aware that Ginny and the rest of her friends might appear any second now. The silence grew uncomfortable after a while.

“What’s up with that whole engagement thing, you mentioned yesterday?”, you wanted to know, remembering that weird comment of him. “And don’t act all mysterious again. I told you my mess now you have to share yours.”

Malfoy snorted. “Ask away.”

This was easier than expected. “Are you dating the little Greengrass?” Totally understandable if he was – Astoria was the perfect mixture of smart and drop dead gorgeous. A lot of guys were into her.

“No.”

“She called you ‘honey’.”

“Yes.”

You frowned. “I’m confused.”

“Do I really have to explain to you how pureblood marriages work?”, Malfoy said with a mocking undertone.

“Of course not. I just thought we left that behind us when the war ended”, you remarked.

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “As if hundreds of years of tradition can be forgotten with one war.”

“So you’re forced to marry her?”, you tried to understand the situation better.

“No, it’s an arranged marriage which is not even official yet,” Malfoy shifted slightly. “Mother would like it because the Greengrass family is still respected and …”

“… rich.”

He glanced at you quickly. “We lost a lot.”

“I bet,” you scoffed.

Abruptly, Malfoy got up and grabbed his bag. “I should leave.”

Out of instinct, you extended your hand to reach for him but stopped just inches in front of his arm. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that”, you apologized. Feelings of guilt and pity appeared inside of you as you didn’t expect him to be so openly hurt by what you said. “I heard … well, everyone heard about the trials and your parents and all that. Sorry.”

Malfoy hesitated but then sat down again. His whole demeanour had changed in just seconds. He had almost been … approachable but now the look in his eyes was as cold as ice again.

You cleared your throat. “Do you want to marry her?”

He didn’t answer right away. You wondered what went through his head in this moment.

“I don’t ask myself that.”

The answer didn’t surprise you. “Why not?”, you tried to dig deeper.

Again, a few seconds passed before he mumbled: “No, I don’t want to marry her. I hardly know her.”

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Does she want to marry you?”

“I don’t know”, he gave a half shrug. “She had a thing with Zabini over the summer so I guess … I’m probably not her first choice.”

The answer to all of his problems seemed so easy, you thought. Yet it would be met with much apprehension. Traditional pureblood families like his were difficult when it came to this stuff.

Knowing what his reaction would be, you still had to say it: “So don’t get engaged.” Before he could reply, you raised your hand. “Yeah, I know, traditions and all that bullshit. Why don’t you just start breaking traditions?”

Malfoy shook his head. “My family works a little different than yours.

“Not that different to be honest”, you whispered under your breath.

He heard you and you were met with a very confused look. When you didn’t elaborate, he continued talking: “Anyways, I can’t. I could try to postpone but I’d need a very convincing reason.”

“Like?”

“Another girl from a good family.”

“And?”

“And what?”

A grin appeared on your face. “There are at least ten girls I can name right away who’d love to get a shot with you.”

Seriously, even most of the Gryffindor girls your age had been crushing on Malfoy at least once. He was very attractive and clever and that whole ‘bad boy’-act made quite a few girls weak in their knees. You had noticed this too but being so close friends with Ginny and Harry those thoughts never found room to grow inside of you. In your mind, Malfoy had always been an arrogant jerk. Still is, you corrected yourself quietly.

“Have you spoken with them since I became a –”

… a Death Eater, you finished the sentence in your head. Looking at the young man in front of you, wearing his school scarf while sitting in a sports stadium, the whole concept of him being a dangerous criminal just seemed absurd to you.

“Besides it’s a dumb idea”, he continued. “It would be a fake relationship and no one in their right mind would agree to that.” He let out a dry laugh. “Only a Gryffindor can think of something like that.”

In that moment, your eyes met. Never before did you notice the unusual colors in them like you did now. The piercing grey reminded you of storm clouds on an autumns day. Yeah, a fake relationship. Who in their right mind would … Unless …

The sudden thought that appeared in your mind made you flinch. He seemed to be thinking the same when he quickly broke the eye contact, straightening up and staring over at the field.

You got up in a rush, swinging your back over your shoulder. To your big relief, Ginny and your friends had just entered the Quidditch field. Their laughter echoed through the whole area.

„I should go. There’s Ginny.”

He nodded. “Right.”

“Thanks for the shoe.” Could this situation be any more awkward?! You doubted it. Hastily you turned around and almost stumbled over your own feet when you made our way back to the stairs. Something else came suddenly to your mind.

“Oh, and Malfoy?”, you stopped. He didn’t turn to look at you but you knew he heard you by the way he slightly moved his head. “I know a lot of fucked up stuff happened and pureblood families are the worst but … but don’t spend the rest of the year sitting here alone. I bet that there are still quite a few of your Slytherin friends that want to spend time with you.”

There was nothing you expected him to say in response to that so it surprised you when he suddenly said your name. “Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“Get over Weasley. It’s beneath you.”

You were glad he didn’t see the big grin on your face.

 ***

Ginny was surprised to see you coming down the stairs and running across the field. She wondered what you did up there and frowned when he saw a guy sitting there with the all too familiar white-blond hair.

“Is that Malfoy up there? Were you talking to him?”, she wanted to know when you finally reached the group.

“Oh, um,” you stuttered. “We ran into each other.

Ginny squinted her eyes. “Right”, she doubted. “How did you –”

Bang! You let out a short scream at the sudden noise.

“Sorry!” Someone shouted and a very distressed looking Seamus Finnigan appeared behind dark smoke.

“What the hell did you do?” Ginny squeaked and with that she forgot all about Malfoy.

You looked back up to where he was sitting just a minute ago. He was gone now. A weird feeling was left inside of you after the rather unusual conversation you had with the Slytherin. You shook your head, trying to get rid of it and turned your full attention back to your friends.

***

I hope you like it! I’d love to hear what you thought about it! <3

CHAPTER 4

“Choose Me Instead”-Masterlist HP-Masterlist Tag List: @writerdee1701​, @youareinllve​, @sjmahoney​, @detroitobsessed​, @takura-rin​, @jadam268​, @wynterwind​, @mina672 , @renaissance-confiance​, @harpoon999​, @doitforthevine67​, @rinasrights​, @flowerpowerpixie​, @gold-flowing​, @starkssnarks​, @bookcornerkins​, @harpersmariano​, @markedsweetly​, @iraniq​, @pointlesscoconut​, @hvrcruxes​, @pillowjj​, @idkatee​, @jungjxxhyun, @magicwithaknife​, @graystherapy​

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! <3

[yuzukult]

i’m bad too 15 || kdy & reader

title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, word count: 1.8k warnings: none !! a/n: a “leading” chapter, before something actually happens! so, not the most exciting, but... yeah. :D

please let me know if anyone wants to be tagged! taglist: @wownajaemin​​​​ @crescent-iak​​​​ @ncttboo​​​​ @byunbaekby​​​​​ @jinfizz​​ @doyoungyoung​​ @ahgayeah0305​​ @doyobun​​ @sexualitaeyong​ @mrkleelvr​​ @m1ss-foodi3​​

← previous chapter || next chapter →​​

If it’s one thing you’ve learned about yourself, it’s that you hate when Ten chews his food with his mouth open. He chomps it like a cow munching on grass, and sometimes, he even makes those weird wet sounds if the food is soft and squishy enough.

But after laying in a hospital bed for a week, unable to speak, you’re missing the ability to call your big brother ‘disgusting’ across the table, toss something in his direction, and him opening his mouth to show the contents of his dinner inside.

“Are you fucking insane? You let her go into hellfire, knowing damn well she wasn’t protected?” The voice is familiar, loud, and straining, like they’re on the verge of tears but too instilled with anger to let the sadness seep through. “I thought I said to keep her fucking safe if you wanted to work together.”

“I don’t work in the field, Ten. I don’t control what happens at the moment.”

“Yeah, but you set the commands. You give the orders. She’s fucking on her deathbed, Taeyong—“

“Don’t fucking say my name in public,” he hisses through his gritted teeth. “Listen. If it’s not her, it’s me.”

“I’d rather it be you.”

“You need me, Ten. Who is gonna do the dirty work for you? Look at those pretty fingers. You wouldn’t hurt a soul. But your sister—you know damn well she’s got potential to be more. This is just a hurl she’s jumping over. When she recovers—“

“You’ve got to be fucking insane, you think I’m gonna let her go back out there when you put her in harms way?”

Before the conversation could continue, you hear the door click shut, and the shuffling of flat shoes tapping against the cold tiles, reaching to your bedside. You can’t see, your body won’t let you fully awaken, and you can’t speak with this tube lodged in your throat. But the whiff of the cologne that comes hits your nostrils is a familiar one. It’s Doyoung.

He sighs, like he’s been troubled and you can’t even blame him. You told him not to worry, that you’d stay safe, and here you are—unable to move, unable to wake up, unable to breathe on your own, and unable to talk.

You hear his moments; the scuffing of his oversized denim jacket against the leather seat by your bed, browsing through the drawers with each push and slam until he finds what he’s looking for, and when you hear the television turn on, you could only assume it was for the remote.

“I wonder if they have Marvel movies playing,” he says, seemingly to no one in particular until you realize he’s speaking to you, in spite of the fact that you’re very much in a deep sleep. “I know they’re not your favorite, but you tolerate it. I never got to ask what kind of movies you liked. I… I guess I was being a little selfish when you gave me attention that I never considered to ask.”

You wanna tell him that you actually don’t even like movies, in fact, you prefer sitcoms in spite of your very evident opposite personality. If you could, you would tell him that you watch those superhero movies because he’s into them, that if you get to see that pretty little smile on his face, it makes you forget all your problems and… the moment is worthwhile.

Warmth reaches your fingers, and you could only assume that it’s Doyoung holding your hand. It’s a familiar feeling of home, like you’re meant to be here with him, except the current setting isn’t necessarily favored.

“Do you like Spongebob?” He asks, as if you could even respond. “Mm. Doesn’t really seem like your thing, but I feel like you’re the type to not look like you enjoy it, but you actually love it because it’s annoying.”

He’s… right. You want to laugh, genuinely laugh because Kim Doyoung is spot on with his prediction. He knows you better than he gives himself credit for, because he doesn’t change the channel and watches the TV with you.

“I bet you like sitcoms,” Doyoung mentions randomly, eyes still on the screen. “Like maybe not Modern Family, but maybe like… Parks and Rec. You don’t seem like you’d enjoy the Office too much, maybe Michael Scott is too much of a character but Andy Bernard looks like a guy you’d scare to the point he’d piss his pants, but you’d like him.” Again, you think to yourself. Because Doyoung got it right yet again.

He’s quiet for a bit, letting Spongebob play in the background and you could hear the conversation between Spongebob and Patrick. Truthfully, you don’t know what’s actually happening, but the feeling of being with Doyoung like this, hand in hand with something stupid playing on TV is your favorite.

It’s casual. No missions, no guns, no family business—just you and Doyoung.

Doyoung doesn’t say much on the day you finally wake up. With a tube wedged down your throat, it’s difficult to have a two-way conversation anyways, and seeing you like this probably breaks his heart, so any word that leaves his mouth might be with a stutter and a sob.

Spongebob plays on the television for another hour before Doyoung eventually breaks the glass of quietude, letting out a soft chuckle at something Patrick said. “Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, glancing over at you. “Wasn’t sure if you liked Spongebob.” Although you can’t speak, the soft squeeze of his hand gives away your approval, and a gentle smile tugs on his face.

There's another moment of silence, just before Doyoung lowers the volume of the TV before gathering enough courage to talk. It takes a lot to get himself to speak up against you, someone he sort of feared yet at the same time had strong feelings for.

“I know what you do,” he announces, eyes never leaving the flickering screen with cartoon characters under the deep blue sea do stupid things, unmatching to what he wants to say next. “I can’t say that I totally get it, because I don’t. I’d be lying if I said I did, but… you do those things, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what to make out of it, but I get why it was hard to confess… those things.” He runs his fingers through his greasy locks, accumulating in oils from how long he’s stayed here without going home to shower. “I kind of thought I was going to date someone really simple one day, yaknow? Settle down with a girl who has a job, sweet and kind, with the same end goal in mind. Get married, have kids… all that fun stuff.”

Your nose twitches at that. Because you’re definitely not that.

“But then I met you, which is… well,” he lets out a faint laugh, “... the complete opposite of all of that. You’re dangerous, cold, and oftentimes, I’m left hanging by a thread, confused on what we are and what I actually mean to you.”

If you could, you’d interrupt him right then and there. Tell him your sorrys, belatedly confessing your true feelings for him, let him know you’d be better for real this time, but truthfully, you’re not sure if he’ll believe you anyway.

“And I could just drop everything right now. Just get up, leave, move on. Tell you that I don’t want this anymore, that whatever you’re in, I don’t wanna be roped in and get involved in your baggage.” It’s like you could hear the cracking of your heart as it falls into the depths of your stomach because your chest feels empty when he says that. The worst part is when you can’t defend yourself, tell him that it’s not like that, but in the end, Doyoung does it for you.

“Yet, I’m still here, right? Because I don’t get you, I don’t get whatever it is you got yourself caught up in, but… after knowing, it oddly makes me… trust you more. So, I’ll stay.”

“Fuck,” Ten curses underneath his breath, getting slightly frustrated with the wheelchair being caught on the steps of your home again. “Fucking shit, nothing here is disability accessible.”

It’s still hard to talk, but a weak laugh escapes from your lips.

“Don’t laugh, you’re the one in the wheelchair not doing shit.”

When he gets you through the front door, and into the hallway, you can’t help but stare at Ten curiously. He furrows his brows at this, hands at his hips with a gesture of his chin. “What’s in your head?”

“Uh,” it’s straining to speak, but if not now, it’s never. “I overheard a conversation when I was asleep. I-I don’t know if it was a dream or… I don’t know. But I heard you talking to someone, uh, someone particularly… with a reputation.”

His body goes rigid.

“Right,” you state, feeling more confident that the discussion was definitely not a dream. “So this entire time, you’ve been working with the organization?” Ten only sucks his cheeks, unable to formulate a proper rebuttal, so you take advantage of this. “This whole time, you let them constantly probe and ask me to be part of them—”

“I told him not to—”

“Well, he’s been asking, Ten, and he hasn’t stopped. I got contracted to be part of them temporarily, not permanently. This was supposed to be a one and done deal, you realize that, right?”

He scoffs. “You think that anything you do with Lee Taeyong could just be easily brushed under the rug? Hell no, you have to be insanely rich to pay off that guy. He thinks you’re talented, you know? What do you think this is?”

“I could just get up and leave—” “In your fucking dreams, kid,” Ten lets out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking his head. “I agreed to work with him before I knew that you were already contracted with him. There’s shady people in the business. There’s so many messed-up dudes who would bend the laws to get what they want. I don’t want that, but I have to protect myself.”

“But—”

“Wanna hear something, kid? Taeyong doesn’t think this accident,” Ten gestures to your wounds, heart tightening at the sight of you in pain. “... this accident, is just… it. He calls this an obstacle. He thinks this is just a bump in your progress, something you need to overcome before you hop back into the field and start training all over again. He’s not gonna let this go, doesn’t matter if I’m his client. Fuck, kid, he has a shit ton of clients.”

Uneasily, you grip onto the wheels of your seat. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“It’s your loss, kid. Either kill Taeyong and take his seat or you gotta work for him.”

[torifeelslikewritingagain]

Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Fred and you have never been sure of your feelings for one another.

Word Count: 7,823

Warnings: A bit of bad lenguage, and slow burn(?

A/N: This is the first thing I’ve written in 6-7 years, so let me know what y’all think, I’d appreciate it a lot:) Also, forgive any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my native lenguage, haha

GIF credit: @fgweasley​

Fred liked looking at you from afar.

He liked the way how you were different from all the other Slytherins even though you actually were like the rest of them.

Since your first year at Hogwarts, he’d taken a liking towards you. Of course at the beginning that liking was just friendly, he liked that he didn’t feel the need to punch you in the face, he’d never admit it tho, not even to George since they’d been taught to mistrust those in your house; but during that first year he’d always notice how you were the only Slytherin in the room who wouldn’t talk in class unless you were asked to by the teacher, he liked that you didn’t look at him or at George with despise. Of course, there were also times where the thought of you quietly and discretely planning a mass murder would cross his head, but you never gave a reason to worry that his suspicions were actually true.

Fast forward to your 3rd grade, after the winter break, he noticed in the platform how much your parents would actually show you their affection, that was also weird for the majority of the Slytherin kids he could recognize, and it wasn’t until that moment that George noticed him looking at you that he said:

“Oi, we’ve never pranked her, have we? Maybe we should pay more attention this year”

Fred felt terrible in that moment for having put you on George’s radar, he didn’t want to pull a prank on you, right? Although, to say the least, he was curious at how you’d react, after all, you weren’t insufferable like the most of your house, but you also weren’t the quiet mouse that you were during your first year, he’d seen you become more social, he’d notice how you would actively participate in Divination class asking Professor Trelawney real questions instead of mocking her like the rest of the students. He’d also see you talking to Abigail Rosier during dinner and often times he’d see you walking around the castle with her, so he concluded she must have been your best friend.

One night after dinner, when your fourth year was beginning,  he was sneaking away from Filch, until he overheard Malfoy yelling at someone:

“… keep defending them?”

“Because you insist on being a bloody cunt to them for no goddam reason!” It was the first time he had ever heard you say bad words, or even angry, you’d usually keep a neutral aura that was sometimes disrupted by your friends being funny or by him and George who had gotten a like to pull little harmless pranks on you. “They’re wizards too, Malfoy. Their blood status shouldn’t matter to you or anyone, that’s none of our business, they are just like us”

“Speak for yourself, I’m nothing like those blood-traitor weasels or that mudblood…”

“You’re right, the Granger girl is smarter than you could ever dream to be” In that moment he picked up what was happening, you, (y/n) Lafington, were defending his little brother and his friends, and you weren’t even friends. Were you? Did you think that them pranking you was being friends?

“My father will hear about this”

“Well, make sure to send him and your mother my love” He saw Malfoy starting to walk away “You’re children Malfoy, you don’t have to do this, leave them alone” He heard that last phrase with a smile on his face, now he could actually tell George that he liked you.

…

After the hallway incident, he rushed to tell George and Lee, who didn’t believe him; so he saw himself forced to subject to his brother the question if you were in fact, trash or not.

“Lafington?” Ron asked George back

“Isn’t she the girl who is always talking back to Malfoy?” Inquired Harry “You know, the one who is always around the chaser… eh.. Pucey!”

“Yeah! She is! I’ve talked to her in the library, we’re trying to convince McGonagall t…” At that point Fred had stopped listening, he was just happy to prove George and Lee that what he had seen was real, but he wasn’t so happy to hear that you were hanging around with someone as despicable as Adrian Pucey.

A few days later Fred noticed himself paying more attention to you, George did too.

“Just go talk to her”

“And say what? I was walking around the castle and decided to spy on you and Malfoy so now I want to say thank you for looking out for my brother and his friends when I couldn’t?”

“That’s not so bad, actually” George smirked, Fred felt immensely stupid, he couldn’t figure out what was it that he found so difficult about talking to you. “But if you’re not going to do anything, I guess that Adrian Pucey will” With that said, George walked away, making sure to bump into you, he apologized and smiled to you, as he kept walking, he turned to Fred to make sure he was watching, so he decided to seize the opportunity his twin created for him and approached you.

 ...

By the start of your fifth year, you had kind of developed a friendship. You liked the twins, you liked how at the end of last year they had sticked up for you when everyone turned against the Slytherins because of the Chamber of Secrets thing, you grieved the disappearance of their sister and celebrated when she was found, you liked how they didn’t take life too seriously and would always be there to make you smile.  

You liked how George would give you sweets when he had any on him, you also liked how much of a good listener he was, he was always there to hear you ramble about astrology, Slytherin’s gossip or a random book you had found at the library, out of the two of them, you were closer to him since Fred always seemed to have a weird face on when you were around, but it didn’t bother you that much, so you paid no mind.  You also liked how both of them didn’t make fun of you when you told them that you liked quidditch even though you didn’t know much about the teams, you liked playing it mostly, not watching.

Fred liked that about you too, so when you told the twins that Pucey was helping you train to try and join the Slytherin team that year, he felt his chest shrunk in relief, you weren’t flirting with Adrian, you were just being mates, after all, Slytherin is the most loyal house, and you all looked out for each other.  

You made your way into the team as a chaser, the twins were happy for you, and you were thriving! Quidditch had come sort of therapeutic for you, you loved the rush it brought when you were riding your broom so far from the ground, the sensation of danger when you knew that one the bludgers might hit you, you also loved the idea of getting out in an accepted way the rage that was always boiling inside of you.

Honestly, quidditch was the best thing that could have happened to you, it helped you to finally ditch what was left of your shell, as the season advanced everyone could notice how you were becoming more outspoken, more assertive, more popular; that didn’t mean that you were immune to the dementors watching around the castle, though. You just felt the need to express everything you were feeling, whether it was good or bad. And having those creatures around did affect you, despite to what everyone might have thought, you could be spotted arguing with Malfoy more often, you wouldn’t wait to keep things in the Slytherin common room anymore, you would just explode at any given moment. Professor McGonagall was worried about you, you’d always been one of her favorite students in your year, Snape on the other hand, was watching your character development rather amused, he told McGonagall that it was just matter of time that you actually started behaving like a real Slytherin, to what she refused to believe that he was right, so she decided to take the matters into her own hands.

“Professor, I swear on Merlin’s beard that we haven’t done anything punish-worthy in the last three days” Fred said while he and George sit at Professor McGonagall’s desk.

“Yeah, whatever happened to Filch has nothing to do with us this time” The professor looked at George in confusion to whatever it was that they had done this time, she hadn’t called them in for any of that matters.

“Mr. Weasley” she started “I actually called you and your brother for a different reason this time, although I would very much like to know what you did this time in order to automatically be defending yourselves. I wanted to speak to you about Miss Lafington”

“(Y/n)?” Asked Fred

“Yes, Mr. Weasley. I’ve noticed that you are rather close to her, and well, since she is one of my best students, I feel a little bit concerned about her attitude and mood lately”

This year you didn’t share your favorite classes with Gryffindor, which meant that the twins would often see the more reserved version of you in the classroom when the topic wasn’t of your particular interest, so Fred started to worry a little when Professor McGonagall said that; where you skipping class? Were you failing? He and George sat there in silence.

“Nothing unfixable, I want to assume, so I ask you both to remove that awful look from your faces. My guess is that the presence of the dementors, those terrible creatures, has been affecting your friend, as you may notice, a good portion of your classmates. So, as your head of house, I’m asking you to keep an eye on your friend and one of my dearest students”

“So, you want us to prank her more often” George asked with a smirk on his face.

“Mr. Weasley, please, be serious. I’m asking you to not let these things affect that girl more than they should. I’ve noticed that quidditch has become and outlet for her but it can only last so long, so maybe try getting her out of the dungeons and the aura that surrounds her house for a little bit. Distract her, put some positive thought in her head”

“I understand, Professor” Fred nodded, he felt that McGonagall was overreacting a bit, you all were growing and asserting your characters after all, but he did notice you a little more irritable than usual. “Count on us”

“Good” She concluded “Now, go to class” The twins went for the door and just when they were about to close it “And know that you both have detention today for whatever you did to Mr Filch”

…

Fred had no idea how to approach you without spilling the conversation he had with Professor McGonagall, so he let George do the wonder while he just kept looking at you from afar as he always had. He didn’t know why, but every day he looked at you, he swore that you looked better than the day before, sure, you had eye bags and looked tired from all the training, but he found you mesmerizing even when you had your hair up in a bun that looked like a bird’s nest. And he could notice all the boys were noticing you, too, now he didn’t only have to worry about Adrian Pucey, no, now he’d also had Lee, who found you extremely badass, Cedric Diggory, who was on the Hufflepuff team and had been asking about you to some of the younger Gryffindor girls, knowing that Fred & George would talk about you in the common room, even Oliver had taken an interest towards you because of how you played; the quidditch boys in general,  he didn’t worry about Marcus Flint, though, he knew that he was too ugly for you.

So he kept his distance, as a friend could, of course. You’d hang out with him and George more often as Fred tried to sort out his feelings for you. Was he still just curious about you? Or had he actually started developing something more than platonic? He knew that you were amazing, and he was glad that people had finally noticed you, but he’d also feel bummed out by that sometimes, he felt that one day you might stop talking to him and George. He worried about what you thought of him, mostly, because he knew that he wasn’t as good friend to you as George was, but it was because he didn’t want you to look at him just as a friend, did he?

Meanwhile, you were enjoying the extra time with the twins, by the end of the school year you had even helped them come up with some ideas for the joke products that they had started designing, you still liked having them around among most of the new people in your life. You felt infuriated when you didn’t win the house cup, Fred reassured you that your game was good, it just was Wood’s last season and no one loved quidditch more than he did. So one week before going on summer holidays, they asked you if you wanted to come to the Quidditch Cup with them and their family, you weren’t sure, so you said that you missed your parents and went home.

During the summer you wrote to both of them, and Fred insisted that you joined them on their trip, but you didn’t want to be a bother, what if you didn’t fit it? What if their parents didn’t like you? What if all of their family hated you because you were a Slytherin? They assured you that you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, that their mum would love you and their dad would, too.

On the other hand, you were nervous about even asking your own parents, they didn’t hate the Weasleys or any other “blood traitors” in particular, they didn’t care about those things, but they hated drama, that’s why they would keep low profiles and had taught you to do the same. You hanging out with the Weasleys at school? No problem, teens could always be spreading rumors, but you knew that showing up with them at an event like the Quidditch World Cup would be interpreted as an statement, and you knew how delicate things were getting politically, so you obviously felt uneased to say the least, you loved your parents, and you knew the values that they had taught you, but you also were aware of the kind of world were you grew up in, a world where people like the Malfoys would find themselves trying to be pleased by everyone out of fear.

You didn’t respond to the twins for three weeks while you meditated your next move, you were dying to see them, but was that urge stronger than your loyalty to your family?

…

Turns out your mom had seen you so down that she decided to go around your stuff and found the twins’ letters. When you came home from spending a few days with Abby she welcomed you with the letters in hand at the tea room. “Well, that’s it. It was fun while it lasted” You thought to yourself, but much to your surprise your mother encouraged you to go with them.

“There was only one boy who wrote to me like this, and that boy grew to be the man I married and turned into your dad. -Pay no mind to the blood status- I believe that’s what your father and I have taught you” She said taking her tea cup in hand.

You didn’t know why she was acting like this; they had also taught you to avoid big conflicts, yet, here you were. “Sorry mom, I don’t think I follow”

“Do you know why you feel like standing up to Lucius’ son? Because it is in your blood. During my time at Hogwarts I was friends with some muggleborns, but unlike you, I let myself get carried away by my house peers, don’t make the same mistake, much less when it’s about love” You remained silent after she spoke, you didn’t know where did she get this idea that you loved Fred, because she was talking about Fred, right? He was the one who wrote to you more constantly. “I’ll talk to your father; we’ll discuss it over supper”

Confused was short for how you felt. But at least you’d get to spend some time with some of your best friends, so that night you wrote to Fred that you were, in fact, joining them in a few weeks. You felt your stomach sink the moment your owl left. What if him and George now hated you? What if they thought that you not responding for weeks meant putting an end to your friendship? As these questions wondered your brain, the doubt of why your mom started talking about love came, too. Cause she was talking about Fred, wasn’t she? Why was Fred the one who came to your mind for this matter? Maybe she was talking about George, you were closer to him, essentially. But it was the mystery that drove you back to Fred, because sure, you were friends, but he had that face when you were around, and you also felt that there was this barrier, not in a hostile way, but as an aura of, well, mystery. You knew that he was the one to like you first, George had told you that story about the hallway and you defending Ron, and how Fred basically ran to tell him, yet, you always seemed to feel it odd since Fred was a little distant. At first you thought it was just his personality, you had thought “maybe George is warmer” but you’d often see him hang out with other girls, too. He’d hug Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, just like George would, but he wouldn’t even let his arm brush yours unless George had started play-fighting and he had to intervene, so you just had thought that maybe he liked you, but he didn’t quite trust you. Until now.

What if your mother was right? What if Fred liked more as more than a friend? You couldn’t even begin to make sense to that idea, you had seen Fred around other girls, he was a master at flirting, he’d swoon them over. The thought of him fancying you didn’t add up to how he treated you, did it? You refused to give your heart false hopes and dismissed those thoughts quickly, you just went to sleep happy to create memories with your friends.

…

On the other hand, Fred thought that he would spend the most amazing time with you during these holidays, he had even started talking to George about his feelings for you trying to figure them out, but then his father told him that his friend, Amos Diggory and his son would also join the group, at least for the trip, and he felt like cursing the entire world. How could he define what he felt for you when Pretty Boy Diggory would be around? George knew, that Lee knew, that Tori knew because Annabelle had told her, that Cedric was interested in you, he was curious, too. The difference was that Diggory knew that he could charm anyone he wanted, he just had to play his cards right, while Fred couldn’t even begin to admit that he wanted to play his cards too.

You arrived at The Burrow a few days before the Cup, you got to spend time with the Weasleys and even Harry and Hermione, you knew Hermione from your late night study sessions at the library, but you had never actually had a conversation for Harry, you found him rather plain, not in demeaning way, but you could see that this boy had barely an idea of what he represented, he was just like any other boy his age. Molly loved you, even when you found hard to call her that instead of -Mrs. Weasley-, and Ginny liked you too, she liked having another girl who liked quidditch around to play, she was good, you bonded over the game. And she was kind enough to tell you that everyone noticed the small tension that was going on between you and Fred. At first you thought that she was just messing with you, after all, she was the sister of Hogwarts´ most prolific pranksters, but then one night Hermione joined the girl talk, luckily, the subject changed to Ginny’s crush on Harry, but you were left wondering, if people were repeating what your mother said, it might as well be truth, right?

You spent that night thinking about Fred, you liked how he snorted while laughing after a prank he had been planning for long turned out brilliantly, you liked how he would talk you out of pulling an all-nighter to study so you could go wander the castle with him and George. You liked how he would look out for you during the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin matches, much to Oliver’s dismay…

You loved how competitive he was. You loved how before each game he’d tried to place a bet, whether you both were playing or not. You loved how you two would exchange challenging looks from one side to the other of the field. You loved how defensive he got when it came to someone offending you or talking trash to your back. You fell asleep while thinking in all of the things that you loved about this boy, maybe you did have a crush on him…

The next day everyone was super excited, it was the game day, so you all got your bags and started walking into the forest. You were walking with a twin on each side when you saw a man with glasses come up to Arthur and greeted him. You heard Fred sigh and murmur something beneath his breath, but whatever he said was eclipsed by George saying “Now, the fun begins” with a huge devious smile on his face, you didn’t get it. Was this man someone that Arthur didn’t like that much? Were they work frenemies? Then your thoughts were interrupted by something falling from a tree, a someone, actually. Next to the man talking to Arthur was now standing the Hufflepuff’s team captain, Hogwarts’ golden boy: Cedric Diggory. You turned around for a brief second to look at Ginny and Hermione, who you could already see were starting to get a little face-heated from just looking at the boy, you didn’t blame them, every girl at school had a crush on him, and you weren’t the exception, you just were more discrete when it came to showing an opinion, plus you hadn’t been officially introduced to him, sure, you had played against him, but you had never crossed a word, so you felt that showing even the slightest hint of heart eyes for him was inappropriate, plus, now you had come to terms that you liked Fred more than just a friend, right?

He quickly noticed that you were all standing there looking at him so he came up to say hi.

“(Y/N), this is Hufflepuff’s team captain: Cedric Diggory; Cedric, this is (y/N) Lafington, Slytherin’s newest chaser” George introduced you after greeting him.

“Yes, I know exactly who she is” Cedric shook your hand firmly while he answered to George. Fred was silent. “You were the talk of all teams last year, how come no one had noticed you before?”

-Well, I noticed her since our first week at school, thank you-Fred thought to himself.

“I just…” You smiled at Diggory while shrugging your shoulders “I guess I wasn’t that interested in sports before, I’m more of a library mouse, actually”

“Oh, okay, so you’re smart, too. I get it. I like that” Oh Merlin, you liked Fred, but so did you liked having the most eligible man at school looking at you in the way he was.

George was having a blast mentally, he knew Fred was bloody pissed, but he thought that this was for his own good, Fred had to realize that you wouldn’t wait for him forever, so mayyyybe George actually had encouraged Diggory to hit on you. He felt like he was doing his best work as a best friend and as a brother.

During the rest of the walk, Cedric joined you and the twins, you all chatted a bit about school, and when you arrived at the game you went to the girl’s tent. Hermione and Ginny were craving details about Diggory, but you really didn’t have much to give them. Later, when you went looking for the twins, you didn’t find them, Cedric found you, though. You decided to take a walk around with him, while you were talking you got to know him a little better, he was a good guy; you picked up that the flirty smiles and eyes between you two were just denial when he mentioned Cho Chang, Ravenclaw’s seeker. This boy didn’t want to admit that his playboy days were over, you thought that was funny. Yeah, you still had a crush on him, but you realized that it was a platonic thing, you liked Cedric, as a friend.

After placing a bet with Ludo Bagman, Fred had gone back looking for you, when he saw you laughing along with Diggory he felt his stomach shrink and the bile rising through his chest to his throat, maybe Angelina was right, maybe you knew that he liked you but you just chose to ignore him, but he also George’s voice came to his head in your defense, how could you even begin to imagine what he felt for you when he could barely look you in the eye? Those beautiful (y/e/c) eyes. He took a deep breath and approached you, telling you that it was time to go to your seats, you said goodbye to Cedric and followed Fred.

“So…” You started while trying to keep with him “I was hoping that you could tell me a little bit about the teams that will be playing tonight…”

“Didn’t Diggory tell you any of that? Or was he just trying to get in your pants?” You stood completely frozen at what he had just said, Fred had never said anything mean to you, in fact, he’d go after anyone who mistreated you.

“Excuse me?” Was the one thing that you managed to express. Fred turned back to look at you and he crumbled a little on the inside when he saw the hurt in your eyes, the shock, he thought how cute you looked with your eyebrows furrowed like that, but he quickly realized that he had fucked up.

“Oh… I-…” He didn’t know how to apologize; he wasn’t used to get carried away by his emotions in that way. You didn’t say anything, you stood there maintaining eye contact, you were waiting for a proper apology. “Look, I’m sorry, that came out in a completely wrong way” He waited for a response but you gave him nothing “Fine” he sighed and walked over closer to you “I’m sorry, I really am” Nothing. “Hey, Lafts, I’m now begging for your forgiveness” He used your nickname, which you felt relaxed your forehead. “Pleeeaaaase…” In that moment you felt him taking your hand and putting to his mouth to kiss it while giving you puppy eyes.

“Okay, I accept your apology” You said with a small smile in return, and taking your hand away from his. “But what in hell has gotten into you?” You asked as you started walking again.

“I just don’t like that he thinks that he can have you that easily, I don’t want you to get hurt by one of the most famous playboys at school. That’s it” Fred knew that he had to be cautious about what he said, he didn’t want to sound like a complete lunatic, but he also didn’t want to confess his feelings for you in the middle of the scenario that you were standing right now in.

You also didn’t want to keep going with this fight, so you accepted his excuse and kept going, even though on the inside you were still upset about him talking to you that way. When you arrived at your seats you placed yourself between Ginny and George, avoiding Fred. George resumed the season to you before the game started, you saw Draco and his dad, who offered you joining them in the box, but you refused politely with a simple “Thank you Mr. Malfoy, but I’ll stay with my friends for this once” which made everyone look at you with inquire, you explained that Lucius Malfoy was one of your father’s oldest business partners, so it was better to keep things light with him, Draco was different story; that last part relaxed the tension and made everyone laughed.

During the game you could occasionally feel Fred’s gaze on you, you’d sometimes look back, letting him know that you weren’t angry, but still you didn’t want to engage a conversation with him yet.

You had a good time, even though you still liked playing better than just watching, the twins and Ginny were really happy that Ireland had won. After you exited the stadium Arthur told everyone that you’d have dinner an hour later, so you returned calmly to the tents, while you were walking you started hearing people screaming and some even running, you looked at the twins but they were just as confused as you.

“Spread!” Arthur yelled at you “Spread! Hide! Fred, George, watch your sister” at a not so long distance you could see people with some weird masks marching forward and destroying the tents around, then it hit you.

“Death Eathers” you barely mumbled. You turned to see Harry, Ron and Hermione already running “Go” you said firmly now to the twins, you pushed them and Ginny in the opposite direction where the Death Eaters came. “Go. They won’t hurt me. At least I think so, go, hide, protect Ginny” George nodded and took Ginny by the hand, the started walking.

“Oi!” Fred called them, but they didn’t listen, he turned to you, and grabbed you by the arm “I’m not leaving you here, let’s go”

“No, Fred. You’re a blood traitor” you got rid of his grip

“So are you!”

“Yes, but my family never talks about this publicly, no one knows. I won’t put them at risk” You knew that the words were hurting him, but he knew that it was truth, your parents’ business depended on them remaining neutral, no one really knew about your family’s blood status views unless they were close to you. “Look, Fred” You could hear the chaos closer and closer “You know I love you guys, and you know I value your friendship, but right now I really need you to go and look for George and Ginny, I can take care of myself” Just like he did with you a few hours earlier, you could see the hurt in his eyes, you knew your mother liked him from the letters, but you couldn’t bare the idea of putting her in danger for a simple crush. “I promise I’ll look for you guys when this is over, I’ll go help your dad” You kissed his hand and pushed him away “GO!”

You barely could see him running away because you turned around and started casting transfiguration spells on yourself, if you were getting into this fight, you’d make sure that no one behind those masks could recognize you.

When the dark mark was casted onto the sky, the Death Eaters started vanishing, everyone remained shook, when you made sure that none remained there, you started waking back to the party’s tent, there you returned your appearance back to normal, when you came out you saw Arthur returning, he recognized the clothes you were wearing and hugged you. “Thank you” he said as soon as you broke apart, you put your hand on top of his on your shoulder “No problem, Mr. Weasley. I just wish I could have done it without wasting time putting a costume on”

“You helped innocent people, and that should be enough” He gave you and honest smile and went inside the tent. Later when everyone had returned, you all returned to The Burrow, where you all were warmly welcomed by a worried Molly Weasley, who had heard everything from the news.

“Oh, dear, I assume your parents must be worried about you, you should write to them” She said to you as soon as she had the chance, and you agreed, so you thought that the best was to return home the next day.

…

Your parents weren’t that worried about you, actually, they knew that you were a fighter, but they did look worried about how thing would start changing from here on in, you told them that you made yourself unrecognizable when the Death Eaters showed up, which your father thanked you.

Over the next few weeks you wrote to the twins and your other friends, you even exchanged letters with Cedric Diggory (to whom George had felt the freedom to give your address) You just wanted to go back to Hogwarts and get away from all of the political problems going on, you wanted to go back to normal, where you could actually be you and give zero shits about blood status, you couldn’t wait enough for your 17th birthday, the day your freedom would came; if you were seventeen your parents would get excluded from all of your personal decisions. But for now, you could just keep on dreaming.

During the first week of class of your sixth year, you looked for the twins, they greeted you with the warmest of hugs, especially Fred (which surprised you) and you offered them an apology for bringing up the blood thing the day of the game, they were really understanding.

“Don’t worry, dad was amazed at how feisty you turned out to be, he didn’t see it coming, he snitched on you with us” George words made you giggle “Changing your looks to kick ass? That’s clever”

“Yeah, maybe you could help us perfect those spells so Snape and Filch can’t know who came for them” Fred added with a wink.

That same week you learned that this year you wouldn’t have quidditch because Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament, those were terrible news for you, but still, you felt excited about having exchange students over, and the twins had the idea that you could still play quidditch on your free time during the weekends, it wouldn’t be the same, but you were okay with it.

Fred wouldn’t admit it, but he really wanted you to accept the idea of weekend quidditch, because that was the first step on his plan to conquer you. When he heard his dad speaking so highly of you, he was certain that he was totally in love with you, the fear of losing you that he felt the day before, the way he reacted when he saw that Cedric could make you laugh too; the way his tummy felt when you kissed his hand, the way he suffered every minute while he hid knowing nothing of you and dreading the worst, he scolded himself mentally for letting you go, he should’ve gone with you, he shouldn’t have left you alone in a situation like that; All of that made  sudden sense to him while his father kept telling the story, he didn’t just have a crush on you, he wasn´t just curious, he was head over heels in love with you. So he asked for Charlie’s advice, and he designed a plan to ask you out  s u a v e m e n t e, the original plan involved hanging out after quidditch practice, so when quidditch got cancelled he had to improvise. He also had an advantage this year, you guys shared Potions class, which Fred knew was one of your favorites, so he would be able to talk to you during class because of Snape’s favoritisms towards Slytherins.

The weeks passed and you started noticing how George would always disappear when the tree of you were supposed to hang out, leaving you alone with Fred, you didn’t mind, you loved the way his red hair would look at night with the dim lights of the castle at night, and he loved the way your eyes lit up when you looked at the stars. Truth is that you two were getting closer, closer than friends, none of you said a thing about it, but you both could feel the connection growing. When the Yule Ball was announced you were sure that Fred would ask you to be his date, so you and Abby went dress shopping, she really didn’t like the idea of you getting with a Gryffindor, much less a Weasley, but she was happy that you had someone just like she had her Durmstrang student.

When you got to the shop Hogsmead and started looking at the fabrics, you noticed that other girls were already there, between them you could notice the girls of Gryffindor’s quidditch team, you paid no mind to them nor to their whispers and dirty looks. Abby went away for a moment to try on a dress that she liked, when she came back she had an annoyed look on her face.

“You didn’t like it?” You thought it was the dress “You know that’s just the sample one, they can make it for you in a different color”

“It’s not that” she said, putting the dress back “I liked the dress”

“Then why the face?”

“Look” she started “I know that you like the Weasley boy, much to the house’s dismay, and I’m trying (y/n), I’m really trying to keep my nose out of this because I like seeing you happy” she paused for a second before going, you could see that her mind was working trying to say something.

“Abby, it’s okay, I can take it” What could it be? Had he gotten in a fight with Adrian again?

“When I was in the changing room I could hear Angelina Jhonson talking about how excited she was to be attending the ball with Frederick”

“Well, that’s a shame for her, he’s going to ask me”

“That’s the thing Lafts, he asked her already, not you, her.” You could see that Abby was trying to hold it together, she was quite protective of you, but you did recognize that she was trying to not hate Fred. “I know it sounds terrible and I don’t know, maybe those twits are tryin’ to play mind games on us, but you should definitely check that out; I don’t want this night that we’ll probably remember forever to be ruined for you by some stupid scumsucker”

You were speechless, you didn’t know what to say, you were certain that Abigail wasn’t fond of the twins, but you also knew that she just wouldn’t lie about it, so when she had her order on her dress made, you two returned to the castle.

That night at dinner you had a hard time spotting Fred at the Great Hall, you also had a hard time spotting him anywhere in the castle, when you went to George for answers he responded with a simple “Love you both, I’ve done plenty trying to help Fred. I’m not getting in the middle of this mess” And walked away, which left you feeling even more confused and angry than before, why were they shutting you down? You wrote to your mom to know if anything big had happened outside the school, but she said nothing had really came up. You were left with nothing, the next few days George made sure to let you know that he was still there for you, but he drew the line when it came to talking about Fred. Something inside of you said “See? You were right, Fred didn’t really like you, it was all in your head; if not, then how come only George is here now?” And you didn’t want to give this voice the reason, but it was the only thing in your mind. 

The days passed and the ball came, you ended up attending it with Adrian, after all, you and him were really good friends. You were having a great time with your friends, you even danced a piece with Cedric, then George came to you, too. Fred remained far away, you could see him on the dance floor with Angelina, as Abby said; you felt your heart break a little more every time you looked at him, you were angry at him, but you were also angry at yourself, how could you had let yourself think for a minute that someone like him could fall in love with you? You were opposites, and everyone knew it, and everyone made sure you were reminded of it at all times. A slow song came on and Adrian said to you that he would try to dance with some girl from Beauxbatons, so you went to sit down for a bit. You watched all the couples dancing with a bit of longing, you saw that Ginny was there with a boy and you felt your heart melt for a moment, not everyone was having a rough night.

“Not having fun?” You heard George’s voice behind you.

“Eh” you shrugged your shoulders “I’ve been better” you turned your head to look at him.

“Well” He hunched over to be at your level “I see Pucey dancing with someone and my date blew me off too, wanna go wreck someone’s make out session?” That last part with wiggling eyebrows. He made you chuckle.

“Fine” You said rolling your eyes. You took your clutch and followed him through the hallways, you walked quietly, trying to spot any couple to scare. Suddenly George came to a stop in front of a door. You looked at him with questioning eyes, he nodded, letting you know that there was someone in there.

“You go first” He whispered. You smiled, excited. You got your wand ready. When George opened the door, you pointed your wand but before you could say anything you were surprised by Fred Weasley standing in front of you. Well, he was actually pacing, but still, he was in front of you. You turned to George.

“I thought you said t-“

“I know what I said” He cut you off. “But I’m doing this for you, not for him” He looked at both of you before closing the door and leaving you there.

You stood there in silence for a couple of minutes, you didn’t even want to look at him, you were hurt.

“So, I saw you dancing with Diggory…”Fred finally broke the silence.

“Really? Are you seriously bringing that up?” You decided to look at him and when your eyes met you felt the world freeze. You stared at each other. Fred had been watching you from afar, too. But now that he had you close, he was taken out of breath of how good you looked. The way your dress made your skin pop, the way your eyes were glowing thanks to the make-up, he could also see the lip gloss that you had been reapplying all night.

“Fred?” Your voice brought him back from his mind. “You know what? I don’t even know why I decided to stay, I should’ve left with George” You headed for the door but he quickly got up and stood before you.

“No. You know why” You got chills, you didn’t know if they came from the cold of the classroom you where standing in or from the look in his eyes. He took off his jacket and tried to covered you with it.

“No” You said stepping back and putting your hand in front of you. “You don’t get to play prince charming with me, not after you ignored me for a month… Why did you do it..?”

Fred didn’t know what to say, he knew that the moment to confess his feelings to you had arrived, but he felt too dumb to say something.

“You know Fred? If you didn’t like me you could’ve just been straight forward about it.” You started talking trying to keep your voice neutral. “You didn’t have to pretend to be my friend all these years, the worst part of it is that these last few months I felt like something beyond a friendship was growing between us” That was it, you gulped, your voice broke “You didn’t have to make me fall in love with you and then break my heart” Fred rose his head. You crossed your arms over your chest trying to keep all your feelings in.

“Wait a second, love, rewind a little bit there” He was in shock, he walked towards you. “You’re in love with me?” You could hear the surprise in his voice. Was he now laughing at you?

“You’re impossible, Weasley” You headed for the door again, but Fred grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. “Let m-“ You felt his lips crash on yours, shutting you up. You responded to his kiss, you could sense desperation in it.

“I’ve liked you since our first year” He said when you finally broke away “I’ve always felt keen on you. I love you. I shut you out because I was too scared of my own feelings, I’ve never felt this way for anyone else. I figured out that if I just cutyou off, all the feelings would go away, but they didn’t.” You looked at him mouth-opened, not knowing what to say, you both had been feeling this way but you were too scared to admit it.

“You’re an idiot” You finally managed to say. He kissed you again.

“Yes, I am, I am the biggest idiot ever” Kiss “but please say you won’t pay mind to the all the bloody talking and you’ll be my official girlfriend” He pecked you on the lips again.

“Yes, yes, okay” You laughed.

You stood there for a while, laughing at how obnoxious you both had been the last few years. You were in love with Fred, and Fred was in love with you. You weren’t waiting for you 17th birthday anymore, you were making up for all the lost time, everyone else could go to hell.

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Lost Boys: Take-Out Intrigue Part 2

Part One | Part Two 

Marko x Reader

Word Count: 2,524

Summary: A requested continuation of this idea. Reader runs into Marko a few weeks later and is convinced to go on a late night rendezvous. 

There were few moments in life as sweet as when you had just finished a shift.

You got along with your co-workers and the owners were good to you. The job itself wasn’t too bad outside of the occasional snotty customer. But after being on your feet, your body was grateful to go home and just sit.

“Be careful, huh? They still haven’t found that guy,” your boss cautioned as she locked up behind the both of you.

That gave you pause.

Two weeks ago, the cops had come in on official business. Yet another missing person’s case in Santa Carla except this time, the last any one had seen of the victim was outside the restaurant. There were no leads which had the workers spooked, especially since it happened nearby.

Some insisted that he had been in an accident, that he would turn up sooner or later. Others maintained that he must be a criminal himself—why else would’ve he been out so late? 

And a third group of co-workers were bold enough to come out and say he was probably long dead, the victim of a killer. You agreed with them. 

Whatever the case, everyone was more cautious when leaving after the late shift.

Most of your shifts were still in the day but after seeing that beautiful boy on a random nightshift you’d taken on a whim and started signing up for more in hopes of seeing him again. He hadn’t come back yet.

You reassured her as you zipped up your jacket. “Thank you, auntie. I promise to be careful.”

Passing a critical eye over you, she started chiding you about dressing smarter—what kind of fool wore a nylon jacket in these temperatures. You took it without complaint, knowing the nagging was how she showed that she cared.

Her husband, the other owner, was already waiting in their car and the last thing she told you as she got in was, “There’s eight in that bag. Share with everyone at home.”

You held the bag containing a pile of smooth, fluffy buns reverently against your chest.

It wasn’t often that she brought food from home to give to employees but when she did, it was always delicious. The bao was a big favorite of yours.

“Thank you. I will,” you said with a dip of your head.

They drove off and you head down to your own car. Alone on the sidewalk, you juggled everything in your arms to fish out your keys, taking great care not to squish the bao. It was a particularly quiet that night which put you on guard, your eyes darting around trying to peer into the darkness.

Every shadow was suspicious, the corners of buildings a potential hiding spot for a psycho laying in wait. There was also an alleyway you had to pass by that made you extra wary. You darted past it, careful to keep it in your line of limited vision.

Santa Carla was a shifty town, especially after dark, and you’d rather be paranoid instead of caught off guard.

The jingle of your car keys was almost obvious disrupter in the otherwise silent street as you unlocked the car. Your textbooks were demoted to the floor of the passenger seat, the bag of bao riding shot gun in the actual seat. 

For a spilt second, you thought about buckling it in but quickly dismissed it; the seat belt could crush them.

You slammed the door shut when you felt it. A cold shudder on the back of your neck. The kind of anxious realization that you were being watched.

Your head swiveled this way and that, trying to find the source of your unease but the darkness too much of a handicap. It was times like this when you were reminded just how badly lit the street was.

There were no detectible sounds either. You strained to pick up the slightest movement and only heard the rush of adrenaline in your ears.

Desperate to keep your wits about you, you took a deep breath and walked as calmly as you could to the driver’s side. You gripped the car keys tightly, in case you needed to stab someone, ignoring the tremors in your hands. Nothing happened, yet the feeling of being watched remained and you hoped that it’d be okay once you got in the car.

You reached for the handle and thought you were safe when it intensified. There was no warning before a cold hand rested on your hip, the chill cutting through your jacket.

You screamed with everything in you and whirled around, arm poised to gouge out the creep’s eyes.

The other person effortlessly batted your attack away and you recognized belatedly that those distinct curls were familiar. The fight drained out of you with one big gasp of air. “You.”

He smiled excitedly, like he hadn’t just scared the shit out of you. He spun your keys, the key ring looped around his finger. You didn’t remember them leaving your hold.

“Nice jab,” he complimented.

“Yeah,” you stammered, hand over your pounding heart. It was eerie how he snuck up on you like that, even when you were on full guard.

“You didn’t hesitate.” The spinning stopped and he offered you the keys. He leaned in close stopping just shy of invading your personal space. “You have a fighter’s instinct.”

“Only when people sneak up on me.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about that.”

His voice was perfectly sincere but your intuition didn’t trust him. It told you that he had liked scaring you.

The customer was just how you remembered him from the one time you took his order. Patched jacket and leather chaps and a cherubic face. The flawless face was a harsh reminder that you hadn’t been able to land a single scratch on him.

“We didn’t introduce ourselves last time,” you frowned. “What’s your name?”

He bit his thumb, the paleness of it standing in stark contrast with the dark leather of his fingerless glove even in the dim light. “Marko.” Hmm. It suited him, you decided. “And you’re Y/N.

You stood up a little straighter, uneasy. You were sure that you hadn’t said your name last time—you never introduced yourself to customers.

Once again, he stole the words out of your mouth. “It was on the name tag.”

Oh. You’d forgotten about the raised rectangular underneath your jacket. The name tag. “Sorry. I’m still a little spooked from what just happened.”

“Never took you for a screamer,” he teased. Heat exploded in your face and the night hid how he focused on the small bird shaped pin on the lapel of your jacket.  

He was more mischievous and you wished for the ease of conversation from his other visit. Was this truer to his actual personality? Normally, you’d wouldn’t have minded either way but you couldn’t ignore the weirdness of this encounter.

Your goal was to leave as soon as possible. Either he didn’t pick up on that, or he did and just didn’t care because next thing you knew, he was inviting you to hang out at a park a couple of blocks away. And he didn’t mean tomorrow or next week, he meant right then.

Your resistance was instinctive and the excuse that you needed to go home and get some sleep was both a truth and a lie.

He crowded you against the car, finally crossing into your personal space. You made the mistake of glancing into his eyes and found you couldn’t turn away. The longer you looked, the more you swore that a predatory yellow glowed from his irises.

Human eyes didn’t even come in that color! You were going crazy.

“I think you should come.” His soft tone didn’t match the determined posture. “You’ll have fun.”

You struggled internally but he started to sound reasonable. Forget the fact that this was something you knew better than to do. You really wanted to keep talking with him and an inner voice reminded you that you had been waiting for him to return…This was your chance.

“Okay,” you smiled. The previous reservations evaporated from your mind and all you could think about was the excitement.  

The two of you drove to the park, him on his motorcycle and you in your car. All of the benches empty and ready for the taking. There a few by the basketball courts and there were tons of streetlights in that direction so you went there.

Sitting down, you were finally able to see him clearly. The park used white bulbs in their lights which was an upgrade from the orange ones lining the streets.

“Here.” You handed him one of the buns that you brought with from the car. “It’s char siu bao.”

He lit up. “Whoa! I didn’t know you guys sold this. Is it a secret menu item?”

You laughed, spitting out mashed-up bits of food. Still chuckling, you made sure to swallow and then answered. “Nope, there’s not a secret menu. Not one that I know about any way. Sometimes the owners bring in food to share with us and they made bao this time.”

The first bite had him moaning obscenely. The rest of it was scarfed down quickly and he patted his stomach appreciatively, his cut-off tank riding up to expose more of his skin.

“Damn. That was orgasm by BBQ pork bun. Your angel for giving me some.”

For the second time that night, heat spread across your face and you kept your eyes trained away. His boldness was flattering. How could you have been scared of him earlier? It seemed ridiculous right then.

“So,” he continued, “I couldn’t help but notice the eyesore hanging from your rear-view mirror.”

“It’s not an eyesore. It took me a whole week to make that.”

That impressed him. “Really. You make a lot of things yourself?”

It launched a whole conversation about your latest creative projects. What kind of materials you liked to work with, where you got your supplies, and if you would show them to him sometime.

Marko talked about his as well. He mostly dabbled in clothing projects, like his jacket, and painting although he worked with shells and wood a lot, too. If the extraordinary patch work on the jacket was any indicator, he was seriously talented.

Sensing an opportunity, you proposed that you would show him your stuff, only if he showed you his.

“You’ll have to be specific what of mine you want to see,” he said with a wink.

“The projects, Marko. I mean the projects,” you sassed. It was becoming easier to respond to his quips.

He gestured further down where some patches of spray paint were visible on the concrete ground. “I can show you some now, if you want.”

Your brows shot up. He did say he did all kinds of painting, but he spray painted too? Curious, you didn’t wait for him as you went to go take a peek.

People tagged all over Santa Carla these days, normally on buildings or signs. Never had you seen it left up in a public park and on the ground, no less. A lot of residents complained about what they saw as trashy graffiti, but you thought that was a conservative view. Some it was actually quite good, the talent of the artists undeniable.

The five slabs of park sidewalk examples of good pieces. There were styles that differed from bubbly word font to intricate cartoon characters and it was apparent that many people had worked on this.

You examined them critically, trying to find which was Marko’s based on your limited knowledge.

The bubbly font was too soft for him. The animated turtle with a bandana and nun-chucks, certainly a comic book figure, didn’t seem like him either. Then you spotted a stylized skull with a bird placed in each eye socket, an aggressively written ‘anarchy’ running down the side length of it.

The pin was a reminder on your chest and you knew that it was his.

“Aww, how’d you guess?”

“A little birdy told me,” you said, softly touching the image. What really stood out was the high-level shading he incorporated. The cheeks appeared wicked sharp and the eye sockets had realistic depth to them. You couldn’t believe he managed those techniques with simply spray paint.

Marko crouched in front of you, watching you intently. Your scent and admiration irresistible to him.  

Neither of you spoke as he leaned ever closer. Unlike earlier, the quiet wasn’t scary and you felt anticipation. Right at the moment he his lips would’ve touched yours, there was a big rustle in the bushes to your left.

Both of you froze. You in alarm and Marko in annoyance.

Next thing you knew, another blonde rolled out from the foliage and bowled Marko over. The curly haired boy was quick to shove the other off of him and you were sure what was happening.

Until the new comer with his fluffed hair patted Marko affectionately on the shoulder, the chain attached to his black coat clinking. That was a familiar touch. “Marko!”

“Get your fat ass off me, Paul” he grumbled.

Paul dusted himself off and peered behind at his butt “I knew these pants looked good on me.”

Marko wasn’t having it. “Yeah, yeah. Why are you here?”

“You abandoned me, bud. I was gunna see if you wanted to feed but looks like you’re already occupied.” He turned his brilliant smile towards you and all you managed was wave awkwardly.

“This is Y/N,” Marko explained. “We were just talking.”

“Sure,” Paul said dragging out the r and flagrantly winking. Yikes, he would’ve gotten a show if he had waited a second more to reveal himself.

“Well now that you barged in, I suppose we should meet back up with the other two.”

Paul nodded and ran off into the darkness without any further explanation.

You stood up as well trying to salvage your dignity. Despite moving in for a kiss minutes ago, Marko didn’t try again. He walked backwards in the same direction Paul had left in, wearing his signature smirk.

“I’ll stop by for take-out soon. Surprise me with something yummy.” With one last cheeky wave, he jogged away.

At the moment he disappeared, it was as if a fog had cleared. All of your alarms came rushing back. You must be crazy for having agreed to come to the park!

Who in their right mind went somewhere with a stranger in the dead of night with a killer on the lose?

Were you that weak for a pretty face that all it took was them asking you nicely? Yes, your time with him hadn’t been horrible, actually, you enjoyed it, but something still wasn’t right.

You trudged to your car, kicking yourself. If he came to the restaurant like he claimed, you’d have to put your foot down more. Stupid decisions got people killed in Santa Carla and you were determined not to be another missing person.

Even for a face like Marko’s.

_______________

Bao is so so good! I can’t tell if I have a good handle on writing Marko yet. Yes, the missing person is the one he offed last time and yes, he did use mind powers on the reader here. 

Thanks for reading :)

[defdaily]

THE STAR Magazine April 2021 Issue featuring JAY B

Translated by defdaily.

GOT7’s eternally sincere leader JAY B. A friendly interview where you can feel his warm-heartedness.

*This interview was done in informal language to give off the feeling of two friends chatting*

It has been a while since we last met for GOT7’s feature in 2017.

Right, hi. I’m JAY B. Nice to meet you. Have you eaten?

JAY B has been chosen to be on the cover of THE STAR’s 8th anniversary issue.

Dobby is free now. (Laughs). I’m a freelancer now but I still can’t believe the fact that I was chosen to be on the cover of THE STAR’s anniversary issue. I’m so thankful to THE STAR for choosing me to be on the cover so I worked extra hard during the shoot.

How are you doing these days? We’re curious to know what you have been up to.

A freelancer’s daily life is always similar. I work when there is work and rest when there isn’t. I was busy recently organising this and that to release GOT7’s digital single ENCORE. I took the lead and there were many things I needed to figure out such as paperwork. So I was very proud. The members have all joined agencies but I want to take a little more time and think about it carefully before choosing. I’m still a freelancer.

Does the freelancing life suit you?

I don’t know if it suits me but it’s fun. Now work-related calls come to me directly, so I would be asleep then receive a call. I’d go “Ah I fell asleep for a moment, sorry. What is this about?” (Laughs). Since I do even these kinds of small communications myself, it’s nice and fascinating to realise the value of work and opportunities. If I didn’t have this time and experience, I think I might have not realised the value of work as much. I used to be on edge at times when the managers used to tell me things in the past. But now that I’ve learnt how much processing has been done before the information reached me, I feel sorry. Now I have a heart full of gratitude for opportunities.

I don’t know if it’s because you’re a freelancer now, but you seem much brighter than before.

Dobby is free now. (Laughs) I’m joking. Of course it was very helpful having a company. But now that I do everything myself, I feel more satisfied. I enjoy it.

The GOT7 members have all started solo activities. It must not have been easy for everyone, how did you come to your decision?

Right. It definitely was not easy. The seven of us researched a lot so that we can continue as GOT7 together. But then we thought that we should broaden our view so each of us could end up in a better situation. In the process, what we each wanted changed a little and, there is a future that each person dreams of right? The company said we did everything we could do on our part and that they will cheer us on in the future, that made me feel proud. We are also very thankful to the company. I felt that we received a lot of protection under a large umbrella. After all, the company is like the mother that gave birth to GOT7, so I’m thankful to them and respect them. I also thought a lot and looked into a lot of things about how to continue as GOT7. I also went to the president and asked him for advice, and I greeted and thanked Jinyoungie hyung for everything.

While preparing for new activities, what was the thing most discussed amongst the members?

“So what is it that you want to do?” “So what do you want to do?” We asked that a lot. So everyone said “We have to do it" So I asked again “No, not 'I have to', but do you want to do this? Or do you not want to do this?” If you are going to do something, you should do it properly, right? If you are not going to do something with an active attitude, I think it’s better to not do it. So we all came together and decided to give it a try.

It’s clear that you are GOT7’s leader.

One advice the company president told me was that my talent and effort as a leader starts now. Personally handling matters related to our recent digital single, I felt this “Taking the lead as a leader, I need to really work hard.” There was a lot of pressure, but if I don’t do it, who would. It pushed me to work hard.

You mentioned very clearly in your social media livestream that “GOT7 did not disband.” I felt your affection towards the team, what does GOT7 mean to JAY B?

One extremely important thing in my life. Actually, it’s an indispensable part. I’m thankful for the fact that our team exists. You have to know that because GOT7 existed, we individually exist too. It wouldn't matter if my beginning was as a solo, but my beginning was as GOT7. That's what made me who I am now.

How is Lim Jaebeom different as JAY B within GOT7, JJ Project, Jus2 and ØFFSHORE?

Comprehensively they’re all sides of me but if I have to split them, they would be a novel vibe versus an essay vibe. ØFFSHORE and Def. are all about music I like, regardless of genres, and honest stories I want to tell. As for GOT7, JJ Project and Jus2, we would have a particular concept and make it a bit more fancy.

Most of the songs you have shown on SoundCloud are R&B genres with a groovy feel. Have you ever had a conflict between music you want to do and music you have to do?

I felt that I needed to work harder to prove [myself] to do what I wanted to do. I can’t always be spoon-fed. To prove [myself] I made more GOT7 tracks and sent around 15~20 demos. Later on Jinyoung hyung and the president acknowledged me and said “Jaebeom will take care of the musical aspect. You can trust him with that.” I felt really proud hearing that. I don’t really feel a sense of conflict between the musical differences. From pop and R&B to folk and modern rock, I don't want to draw lines between genres and make music that sounds good.

We are curious about the music JAY B will show alone and what you’ll pursue. What stories do you want to tell?

I want to do a variety of things. Alone, I think I will try mixing genres and do things that are fun and experimental. I can also do R&B pop or Urban genres which I’ve originally liked. But that might change later on.

Is there an artist you’d like to collaborate with in the future?

Someone with a pleasant tone to listen to. Even now, when I listen to music and I like the artist’s tone, I send them a DM asking if they’d like to collaborate. And Korea's top hip hop artist, IU-nim. Do you think it's possible? (Laughs).

Then would you like to send a message to IU?

Suddenly? Um… I will work very hard. If by chance you think my song is alright, I would love for you to add your nice voice to them. (Laughs)

An appearance that may seem cold with a tsundere charm. But what do you think your real personality is like?

I’m the type that is quiet and calm, but people close to me tell me I’m a weird person. When I cry reading a book or watching a movie, or when I get emotional they say “It’s so weird, it doesn’t suit you.”

Are you the tender type?

I think I just often get hit by waves of emotions.

We’re curious about the lifestyle you seek and your values.

To live each day without any regrets.

Is there a place you’d like to visit after COVID-19 ends?

Kyoto, Japan. It’s a place where there is a lot of Japanese heritage and it’s also pretty.

Recently you have combined your two Instagram accounts @jaybnow.hr and @def.cnvs, what was the reason?

I’m the one doing everything after all, it is just the musical name that was different. I can’t split my body into two. I realised I could combine them into one account and just show the difference within it. And as I get older, it’s hard to manage two accounts. (Laughs). Was I too honest? Now I'm confused about what's what.

Was there any other moment that made you feel old?

I don’t do much and my whole body aches. In the past, my body wouldn’t get affected by the weather. Now when the weather is gloomy my back hurts and my knees go numb. (Laughs).

I can see that you’re interested in artistic aspects such as photography, painting and fashion etc. Do these things influence your music?

Of course. They affect the way you live in itself. I’m a person who wants to express and leave behind what I feel. Calling myself an artist feels somehow cocky.

What are you interested in recently?

It’s not art but I’m interested in moving around. Living as a freelancer, I spent more time lying down at home, but now I need a fast-paced daily life. I try to wake up in the morning to eat breakfast and nutritional supplements then go outside to photosynthesize and soak in the world. Everyone has to keep moving. (Laughs).

Are you interested in fashion and lifestyle curation and design etc?

I don’t think I’m a person who dresses up exceptionally well, but if someone asks I’d be willing to help.

What would you introduce as JAY B’s preference?

Freedom. Regarding fashion too, I liked vintage and grunge styles but recently I’m interested in work look and amecage styles. My preference keeps changing. I can't define myself clearly either, but I like the sense of being free.

What inspires you?

Many situations and people, my experiences as well as indirect experiences.

How do you have an indirect experience?

Watching movies and reading books. Nowadays I read song lyrics and unfold the scenes in my head. I try to think of various points of view in these one-act plays.

To JAY B, love is?

Nonexistent. A moment. I don’t know. As you live life, I think falling in love is a momentary emotion. If it lasts long, I think it’s affection not love. I'm a person who has to talk about love, but sometimes I wonder if it’s okay to feel this way. There are also many different forms of love. The love that my parents give me and the love that my fans send me. I’m thankful for everything.

While promoting for 10 years, what was the happiest moment and most lacking point?

I feel like every moment until now has been somehow lacking. Whenever you look back you end up thinking “I should’ve done better back then.” I think everyone feels that way. But I never regret those times I’ve spent. The happiest instance was when I spotted my parents at a fanmeeting and ran to them and held them while singing. It felt like I was boasting to my fans “These people are my father and mother,” and it also felt like I was showing my parents how I was receiving that many fans’ love and support. I'm thankful that the fans looked at my family happily at that moment.

Have you ever had a slump?

I don't think about something if I think I'm going to fall into something serious, but I'm the type who gets stressed out to do something new.

You are loved not only in Korea but also abroad, have you ever thought about why your fans like you so much?

A lot. I just don't understand. I'm not even popular among my friends... Why on earth?

Think of at least one thing.

Maybe it’s because I worked hard steadily? To be honest, during the past 10 years I have never not tried my best on stage. I can say this with confidence. I’m thankful to be able to do what I like as a job. I have told the members about this previously, I’m sorry for not being affectionate to fans onstage. It’s my nature so I can’t help it. But I have never been indifferent as a singer onstage, that is a fact.

Your bucket list that you surely want to achieve this year?

Being healthy mentally and physically. Since the members have started their solo activities this year, I think I should release an album as well.

Any words for the readers?

Everyone, I’m not saying this as a formal greeting but I really want to say thank you. Hmm… How should I put this? Don’t worry since we are not disbanding. That’s why I tried hard to release the digital single. Continuing on I’m going to try my best to do as much as I can. You might feel disappointed at times along the way, and I apologize in advance for that. But what I can promise is that I’m going to do my best. Thank you so much for supporting me for 10 years. You all know this already, but I’m not so good at things like sending hearts and saying thanks affectionately. I just want to speak sincerely. Thank you so much. I hope everyone will be more happy, not just because you like and support us… I could sound arrogant saying it like this but... I hope our fans are sturdy people who will find their own small sources of happiness in their daily lives even if that isn’t us. And I hope everyone is happy. I’m so thankful and I want to ask you to trust me.

Lastly let us know your future plans.

We will try our best to match our times and do GOT7, JJ Project and Jus2 etc. no matter what. Even if our times don’t match somehow, we’ll try our best to gather even 4 or 5 people and return, so don’t worry. And Dobby is free now. (Laughs). I will do my best in everything. I've made a lot of songs and I'm diligently working on songs right now too, so look forward to it. You’ll be able to listen to it soon. Thank you. This has been GOT7 JAY B. Please give lots of love to The Star’s April issue!

Translated by defdaily.

[echo-hiraeth]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write either a peña or pike x agent!reader with “Where doesn’t it hurt then?” Where she’s been hiding direct threats to her safety?

Blind Dates - Marcus Pike x F! Agent Reader

The ending scene and prompt in and of itself were heavily inspired by this scene from “Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark” as it’s one of my favourites: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFzxuEm9MyM

Prompts:

49: “Where doesn’t it hurt then.”

Masterlist

“Hey, I’m headed out for the night. Think you can manage on your own here?”, you asked, flashing him a smile.

Marcus looked up from his desk, mouth slightly agape. “N-no late-night hangout tonight?”

You slowly shook your head, approaching his desk. “While I’d love to spend the evening here with you, I happen to have some plans of my own."

He raised a brow at you: “Is that what that dress and lipstick is all about then? Who’s the lucky guy.”

“It’s not like that, Pike,” you chuckled, sitting on the edge of the surface of his desk. “Believe me I’d rather be stuck with you all night.”

“Your friend set you up again?”, he grinned, clearly amused over the fact that you were so visibly annoyed.

You threw your head back, letting out a whine. “I promised her I’d let her do one more of these. Fucking regret it though.”

“Oh poor you, having to have dinner at some fancy joint”, he mocked, leaning back in his chair to get a better look at you. “I’d kill for some of that right now.”

“By all means, fill in for me”, you smiled, hopping off his desk. “See you tomorrow?”

He bit his lip as he tried to bite back a flirtatious comment. “Yeah, be safe!”

You gave a small wave and walked out of his office, the smirk on your lips seemingly etched there. Marcus tended to have that effect on you, making you act like some crazed teenager when he’d join you at your desk late at night. But you’d promised your friend you’d go out with the guy she’d been raving about all of last week. So that’s where you set out to go.

Back in his office Marcus found himself extremely distracted. Because no matter how many times he tried to get back to the report he was reading, he just couldn’t get your crimson lips out of his head. Over the course of the last few months the two had gotten much closer, often spending late nights together at the very same desk. He lived for those nights where the two of you would get take-out and just enjoy each other’s company. It was all fine and in good fun until he started to develop these feelings for you. Every bone in his body was head over heels for you, but the fear of being rejected yet again and losing you was bigger than his desires to hold you even closer.

The fact that you were going out tonight made him even more nervous. Surely you wouldn’t just spend the night with your boss? There had to be some reason, some ulterior motive. Maybe you wanted a promotion? Your pay was good though, so it made no sense. Whatever it was, it was absolutely killing him.

As Marcus sat and contemplated every single thing about the past six months, you got out of your cab. The restaurant looked nice, nothing too expensive, just a casual outing. Taking one last deep breath you opened the door, crossing the threshold at last, there was no going back now. The waiter lead you to your table, where you were met with a handsome man, tan skin and a mature little stubble covering his sharp jaw. He looked just over thirty and seemed to be everyone’s dream but yours. It’s only for tonight – you thought to yourself, walking over and extending your arm.

“Was afraid you wouldn’t show”, he chuckled, shaking your hand as he went to stand.

You put your purse on the ground, moving to take a seat. “Got a little caught up at work.”

Well, that was a lie, unless contemplating on how to tell your boss and partner of a year that you had fallen for him. Before you waltzed into his office you’d spent just under an hour in the bathroom thinking of ways to hopefully talk to him about it and maybe even ask him out. But you’d chickened out as soon as you saw him through the cracked door, biting at his fingertip as he was sunken in thought. God, he was so handsome when he shifted in that work mode.

“Wine?”, your date asked, holding out a bottle to you.

“Yeah, sure”, you agreed, shifting your attention back to him once more, something about his face and voice seemed familiar but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

You made some small talk with the guy, finding out that he was independent business owner, what of you hadn’t a clue seeing how you couldn’t stop thinking about a certain someone. Dinner was good though and despite everything you ended up enjoying yourself but no matter how hard he tried, you knew he wasn’t it for you and that there was something off about all of it. At the end of the night he offered to split a cab, politely dropping you off first and parting ways with a kiss to your palm. You’d given him your number as a courtesy, not really expecting him to act on it.

Once back in your apartment you decided to go straight to bed, not wanting to think about it any longer. You were woken up early in the morning by a knocking at your door. Grabbing the nearest hoodie you slipped it on and headed for your front door, opening it to reveal:

“Marcus.. what’re you doing here so early?”, you questioned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

He stepped inside when you moved off to the side, letting him pass. “Well you didn’t text me back last night and I figured you’d appreciate some breakfast”, he reasoned, holding up the bag of bagels.

A content moan left your throat at the sight of the glorious buns. “You’re the fucking best”, you mused, pressing a kiss to his cheek before snatching the bag from his hands.

The morning was filled with soft laughter and a lingering brush of your fingers once or twice. The two of you internally screaming as you went into your bedroom to get changed. Marcus was beaming by the time you remerged, taking a mental note of how beautiful you looked in the early morning.

“You can ride with me if you’d like”, Marcus offered, nervously shifting with his hands in his pockets.

During work the two of you didn’t see much of each other, seeing how Marcus would be briefing to and with his higher-ups and how you were stuck researching the next group of art smugglers you’d be dealing with. You looked through heaps and heaps of paperwork; pictures and recordings. And that’s when you spotted him. That’s where you recognized him from, he was the son of the orchestrator of the smugglings.

You had to tell Marcus, you were fucking screwed if you were right. You tried desperately to get a hold of his phone but he seemed to have left the office early without saying goodbye. That’s when you started trying his personal number, fingers trembling as you stepped outside the building, calling over a cab. You got in without really looking, Marcus finally answering. When you blinked your eyes open and looked to your left you spotted the man, a handgun held in the palm of his hand.

“Hello?”, his voice sounded from your phone speakers.

He gestured for you to put him on speaker and talk to him.

“H-hi”, you answered, voice trembling.

Marcus huffed out a breathy laugh. “Six missed calls, did the office burn down or something?”

You let out a forced laugh. “I-I found a break in one of the cases but I forgot you were leaving for that conference”, you lied, screwing your eyes shut as you focused on not breaking down into sobs.

“I’ll be back by this weekend, we can meet at your place and you can tell me all about it”, he suggested and you could hear the smile on his lips through the phone.

A sniffle broke through as you went to answer him. “I’d like that.”

“Hey what’s the matter do you need me to-“

“Goodnight Marcus”, you interrupted, ending the phone call abruptly.

The man pressed his gun to your temple. “Fancy a second date?”

 You were bound to one of your own kitchen chairs, eyes red from all the crying and pain you’d undergone at that point. The man Jacob Linetti, had been trying his hand at getting all the information you had on them out of you.

“What’s Pike’s next move?”, he asked, flipping a chair and having it land in front of you. “C’mon sweetheart, don’t make me hurt you even more.”

“I don’t know”, you lied, “I’m just his secretary, I just take care of his schedule.”

He struck you across the cheek, making you wince. “Don’t lie, bitch. I heard what you said in that fucking car. Now think again, Pike’s next move.”

“We only just got the case handed to us, we barely have anything”, you cried out, a new bruise already starting to form on your face.

It went on like that for a couple hours until finally he deemed you useless.

“Listen up princess. You will do as your told. Whatever happened here and will happen stays between us.”

You whimpered at his words, entire body shaking with fear despite the exhaustion you were experiencing.

“You call him tomorrow evening and tell him to meet you here. If you snitch on us I’ll slit that pretty little throat of yours and put a bullet through Pike’s skull myself.”

 Meanwhile in his hotel room Marcus sat on the edge of the bed. That call was so fucking weird not to mention unlike you. He’d tried texting you but you once again didn’t reply. He just assumed you’d gone to bed. Well, that’s until you texted him back, at three in the morning.

Hey sorry, everything’s fine, just got caught up and fell asleep in front of the tv xx

He shook his head. You never watched tv, said it was too boring and that the commercials were too bothersome. But having been in the field for quite some time, he decided to play along.

It would be in your best interest not to text back, whether you were in danger or not, he’d wait until the morning and go from there.

You barely slept a wink, the bruises and contusions painfully distracting. Glancing in the mirror you noticed how beat up you actually looked. There was no way you could possibly play that off, so he made you call into work. It didn’t take a lot of convincing, your voice barely above a whisper from the intensity of last night.

His words rang through your ears. You didn’t want to put this on Marcus, you didn’t want him to come over, you didn’t want him to be in danger. But you soon realised that it didn’t really matter you did, he’d end up in the middle of this regardless.

Mind swinging by for a drink tonight?? Xx

His reply came quick.

Course not, see you later tonight x

As soon as he replied you felt terrible. It was a fucking set up and you knew it. But with the other man in the room, you knew you couldn’t do shit about it. Soon he snatched the phone out of your hands, leaving you a sobbing mess.

By that evening you’d been tied down, thrown onto your couch with three sets of eyes glued to you. They’d told you the plan more than once at this point and you knew it word for word. They untied you when one of their other informants texted them to let them know he was coming up. The familiar set of knocks at the door set your adrenaline off and as you reached to open the door you only opened it the slightest bit, gasping when you met his eyes.

You couldn’t think in that moment and just pleaded with him. “Run Marcus! Run!”

“You fucking bitch!”, Jacob snarled, yanking you to the floor by your hair.

Marcus kicked the door open, weapon pointed at one of the other two men. “Back up’s on the way over here, I suggest you drop your weapons.”

He knew he was in a tight spot, he’d need to stretch time for a couple of minutes and from the looks of it, Linetti and his gang were rather impulsive. It was at that moment you felt the ice cold feel on a gun being pressed to the back of your neck, Jacob hauling you in front of him, using you as a shield.

“This is what’s gonna happen, you’re letting me walk outta here or little miss sunshine gets lead.”

Marcus glared the man down, keeping his other eye on the two other men in the room. “I’m sorry pal, but that’s not gonna work out for me. Like I said, back up will be here any minute, whether you’re apprehended here or in that lobby, you’re not going anywhere.”

You opened your eyes, looking over at Marcus. “Please just-just let him Marcus.”

He looked at you for a split second, his heart aching at the sound of your voice. It was then he noticed one of the other men drawing a weapon of his own, without hesitation he shot him in the arm, causing all hell to break loose.

Jacob shot into the ceiling, while punching you in the gut, making Marcus turn his head in your direction once more. It was then the third man grabbed a hold of him, trying to disarm him. It was then Linetti was caught off guard, as you elbowed him in the chest. Marcus was preoccupied with fighting himself free of the other man’s grasp, intent on helping you. Jacob aimed his weapon at your partner and you quickly grabbed his wrist, yanking it away, another bullet whizzing through your small apartment. It was then Marcus yelped, throwing the man over his shoulder, making you look over. Before you could turn your head back around, Jacob hit you on the side of head with the butt of his gun, effectively knocking you out.

That was the last straw, Marcus charged at the criminal, tackling him to the ground as more FBI agents barged in through the door. As the man was pinned down by some fellow agents, he rushed over to you, kneeling down by your side and taking off his jacket to put it under your head.

“She got shot?”, one of them asked.

“No, but call in an ambulance just to be sure.”

When you came to you were laid on a stretcher outside of an ambulance, with two paramedics tending to you. You surged forward immediately, waving the two away.

“Alright, alright, let’s give her some room”, one of them said to the other, taking a few steps back.

You looked around you, noticing Marcus sitting on a curb, a light being flashed in one of his eyes. Your lip started trembling as you tried to call out to him, but you couldn’t manage to say anything, your throat dry and impossibly tight. He looked up and locked eyes with you, immediately excusing himself. He practically ran to you, wrapping his arms around you. It hurt – a whole lot – but you needed him more than anything else in that moment. You hid your face in his shirt, letting out a loud sob. Marcus felt like he could finally let out the breath he’d been holding, rubbing his one hand up and down your back as the other cradled your head.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I’m here now, I’m gonna keep you safe.”

After a few tests back at the hospital you were finally discharged. You’d gotten off easy, a broken nose, some minor fractures and a lot of bumps and bruises. Marcus himself had sustained a cut on his face and a sprained wrist, but other than that he seemed to be just fine. In the emergency room he’d suggested you stay over at his and with some convincing you’d agreed. Since the both of you were in no shape to drive, a cab escorted you back to his.

“Remind me to never let my friend set me up”, you joked as you picked up a spoonful of pasta.

Marcus huffed out a breathy laugh, tilting his head at you. “So you won’t be parading around the office in pretty dresses anymore?”

You rolled your eyes. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.”

Despite it being a playful quip, he couldn’t help but feel a little flustered. “I’m gonna miss it. They suited you.”

Now it was your turn to blush, bashfully looking away as you tried to hide it. “You flatter me Pike”, you murmured, smiling at him with your eyes.

“Want some more pasta? Water?”, he asked, his hands getting more clammy by the minute.

You let out a soft yawn, slowly shaking your head. “I’m okay, thanks.”

He carried your plate to the sink, glancing over his shoulder as you went to stand, a look of discomfort etched on your face, despite the heavy amount of pain medication coursing through your veins. “How about you get some rest, let those painkillers kick in?”

“I’d like that, have a spare bedroom?”, you questioned.

Marcus let out a prolonged sigh. “Well no- but I was planning on taking the couch anyway”, he rambled, gesturing towards the beat up couch with both arms.

You mouthed an ‘oh’, too scared to ask him if he’d just sleep alongside you. “Are you sure? Because I don’t mind.”

“No, no, no! You take the bed, you need all the comfort you can get right now.”

He followed you down the hall, showing you to the bathroom while he disappeared in his bedroom to make the bed for you. You shuffled into the room, a change of clothes held in your hand.

“I uh- I can’t quite change out of my shirt, if you wouldn’t mind?”

His eyes went wide as he looked at you. “Uh, sure.”

It was a little awkward, Marcus requesting you stood with your back to him as he didn’t want to invade your space. It made for a weird angle and soon you doubled over in pain and he got you out of your dirty shirt. He quickly walked around, supporting you, landing him another moan.

“Shit – I’m so sorry!”, he sputtered out, throwing his hands over his eyes as he realised you were in fact topless.

You huffed out an awkward laugh, using the awkward angle to get one arm in the shirt, covering up your chest. “I’ll need you to do the other arm, just make it quick, it’s gonna hurt no matter what.”

He did as he was told, carefully yet in a fast motion (with closed eyes of course) guiding your arm through the whole and tugging it down for you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you-“, he started after you told him to open his eyes.

“Marcus”, you smiled, “It’s not your fault, I’m black and blue, it was bound to happen.”

He nodded slowly, giving you a once over. “Well, if you need anything else, just let me know.”

As he turned to walk out the door you clenched your fists. “Actually”, you called out, “would you mind staying with me? It’s just that I don’t want to be alone.”

To say that he was taken aback would’ve been an understatement. “Of course! Yeah, just get settled, I’ll get ready for bed.”

You smiled before getting into the bed, biting your lip to stifle any further sounds or indications of pain and/or discomfort. Meanwhile Marcus was furiously brushing his teeth with his good wrist, freshening up and combing through his hair before coming back. He wore actual pyjamas, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by just being in briefs. When he climbed in next to you he made sure to do it slowly and carefully, not wanting to dip the mattress too much.

“How’s this?”, he asked, pointing towards the space between the two of you.

“If I’m asking too much just tell me, but.. do you think you could hold me?”, you asked quietly, anxiously awaiting his response.

His stomach was doing summersaults as he nodded, a grin spreading across his luscious lips. As he scooted closed he noticed the way your jaw clenched.

“Fuck – I don’t want to hurt you though.”

You splayed a hand across his chest as you let him come closer. “It’s okay, pretty much everything hurts, I’d rather hurt in your arms.”

He gave you a curious look, a hint of mischief sparkling in his gorgeous brown eyes. “Well, where doesn’t it hurt then.”

You wiggled your fingers, sighing: “My hands are doing pretty good.”

He took them in his, pressing a kiss to each palm. “Where else?”

The blush you felt creeping up was not to be denied at this point. “My elbow.”

He gently manoeuvred your arm around, pressing a lingering kiss to the skin of your elbow. “Hmm?”

“Here”, you whispered, laying a finger on your lips.

One of his hands cupped your jaw as he leant over you, closing his eyes before tenderly pressing his soft lips to yours. “How’s that feel?”

“Better. But you might need to do it again”, you answered, lips curling up into an adorable smile.

“Say no more.”