#i bet he would be the opposite and even turn invisible at times

[inkplotkey]

In the beginning of Monsters Inc. they show Sulley and Mike greeting everyone in the streets and to the way to work. I'd be so exhausted if I did that, like by the time I was in the locker room, my whole social battery of the day would have run out.

[itneverendshere]

played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron

request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made"

pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader warnings: angst <3; VERY LONG

wrote this listening to roses <3

Rafe Cameron held grudges better than anyone and his ex was about to witness exactly that. 

Fucking Jessica Green liked to think of herself as the queen of their university, the epitome of beauty and popularity. Some real high school bullshit he only fed because he liked her. And then, she went and dumped him for none other than Tyler West, the star player of his rival basketball team. Technically, she cheated on him, sneaking around with that piece of shit behind his back. 

The humiliation was killing him. 

Rafe wasn't one to take such things lying down; he wanted revenge, and he wanted it badly. He wanted to ruin her life. It wasn’t just enough to ruin her reputation—he wanted to hit her where it hurt the most. And what would hurt more than being replaced? Not just by any girl, but by someone who was everything she wasn’t. It was a genius idea, really. To prove that some loser could easily take her place, with a little help of course.

And that’s when he noticed you.

Kelce pointed you out actually, when they were six beers in and too fucking drunk to think clearly. But it was still a good choice.

You were the complete opposite of his ex, blending into the crowds like it was your superpower. He watched you for an entire hour at the party. You didn’t utter a single word the entire time you were there, only nursing your drink and listening to the other girls on the cheerleading squad speak.

Hell, he didn’t even know you were a cheerleader until that night. 

Were you always there? How had he never noticed you before? It was hard to remember when all he focused on up until then was Jessica. 

You were practically invisible in comparison to her, always on the sidelines, blending into the background. 

You were perfect.

If he could take this overlooked, nerdy girl and turn her into the new queen of the university, it would be the ultimate blow to Jessica's ego. It would prove that she wasn’t as irreplaceable as she thought. 

“You really gonna do it?”

He didn’t take his eyes off you, “Oh yeah. ‘M doing it.”

“Nahh, there’s no way you’re pulling this off.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kelce’s skepticism was exactly what he expected, and honestly, it made the challenge even sweeter.

 “You think so?” he said, his tone light but with an edge of determination. “Watch me.”

Kelce, always the instigator, leaned forward with a smirk. “Come on, Cameron. You really think you can turn that quiet little thing into the next Jessica? She’s cute, I guess, in that nerdy way, but she’s not queen material.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his cool. “She’s got potential,” he said confidently. “Just needs someone to show her how to use it.”

Topper laughed, shaking his head. “You’re insane. This isn’t some movie where the shy girl takes off her glasses and suddenly she’s hot. Jessica had something that can’t be taught.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Rafe pointed out, “It’s all about confidence man. Jessica wasn’t born the way she is now. She learned how to act the part, and I can do the same with her.”

Like a school project, he thought to himself. That’s all you were. 

Kelce took a swig of his drink, clearly enjoying where the conversation was going. “Alright, I’ll bite. How much time are we talking here? Because she’s got a long way to go, my guy.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering. “Give me two months. By the end of it, she’ll be turning heads. Maybe even more.”

Topper snorted, setting his drink down with a thunk. “Two months? No way. I’ll bet you a grand you can’t pull it off.”

Kelce laughed, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be good. I’m in. A grand says you can’t turn her into the hottest girl in school.”

Rafe’s eyes glinted with determination. “You’re on,” he said, without hesitation. “In a month or two, you’ll be handing me that fucking cash, and she’ll be the one everyone’s talking about. Looking all pretty in my arms.”

Kelce raised his glass. “To Rafe and his miracle project. This is gonna be fun to watch.”

Topper shook his head again, still grinning as he clinked his glass against Kelce’s. “Here’s to you wasting a month of your life on a lost cause.”

He clinked his glass with theirs, the bet sealed. 

“You better start saving up.”

This plan was flawless. 

It was so good that even in his drunken haze, he could see how perfectly it would play out. The first step was simple: get close to you. Make you feel special, noticed, like you were someone who mattered. Rafe knew how to charm people; it was practically second nature. And with Jessica, it had been easy—too easy. She’d fallen for his looks, his confidence, his golden boy appeal. 

The next day, he started showing up at places he knew you’d be. The library, the campus coffee shop, even lingering around after cheerleading practice. At first, he didn’t approach you, just observed. 

He had to figure out how to crack the code, how to make you see him without scaring you off. It took a week before he made his first move.

You were sitting alone in the library, surrounded by textbooks and notes. He casually strolled up, pretending to be looking for a book on the same shelf. “Hey,” he said, glancing down at you with a disarming smile. “You’re in my econ class, right? Mind if I sit here?”

You looked up, a little startled, but nodded, shifting your books to make room for him. You probably couldn’t believe that someone like Rafe Cameron was talking to you, let alone sitting with you. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? To make you feel special, to pull you out of your shell and into his orbit.

He knew he still had to tread carefully. The wrong move could send you running, and he couldn’t afford that.

You kept your eyes down, focused on your notes. He noticed the way your hand shook slightly when you turned the page. Rafe leaned in a little closer, just enough to make his presence known without crowding you.

“You always this buried in work?” he asked casually, pulling out a notebook and flipping it open.

You glanced up, surprised he was still there. “I guess. I have a lot to catch up on.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I hear you. Econ’s been kicking my ass this semester. You doing okay in it?”

He could tell you were surprised. Probably didn't expect him to know you shared the same class. And he didn't, until last week.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s… fine. Just a lot of material.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around these supply and demand curves for days. You think the professor’s trying to torture us?”

You smiled faintly, a small victory in his book. “Maybe. It’s kind of her thing.”

Rafe grinned, pleased that he got a reaction out of you. “You mind if I study with you? Might help to bounce some ideas off each other.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback by his request. “Um, sure. I mean, if you want.”

“Definitely,” he replied smoothly. “You seem like you actually know what’s going on, unlike me.”

He spent the next hour working alongside you, occasionally asking questions, but mostly just being there. He didn’t push, didn’t try too hard. He wanted you to get comfortable with him, to see him as someone you could rely on.

“I’m sorry about Jessica.”

The way you blurted the words out told him you hadn’t meant to say it. 

Rafe froze, his grip tightening on the pen in his hand. He could feel the familiar anger bubbling up, but he forced it down, keeping his expression calm. This was exactly what he didn’t want—Jessica’s name being brought up, especially by you.

But he couldn’t let you see that. 

He looked at you, feigning surprise with a bit of sadness, as if Jessica was just a painful memory he was trying to move past. “Oh,” he said softly, his voice controlled and measured. “You know about that?”

You nodded, eyes wide and apologetic, clearly regretting bringing it up. “Yeah… I mean, it’s all over campus, right? The girls were talking about it in the locker room. I just—I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”

Rafe forced a smile, as if he was grateful for your concern. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a small sigh as if he was relieved to talk about it, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone gentle. “I guess it’s just one of those things, y’know? We were together for a while, and it sucked when it ended.”

You looked down at your notes, fidgeting with the corner of a page. 

“She shouldn’t have done that to you.”

He let out a dry laugh, the bitterness threatening to seep through, but he quickly disguised it as a rueful chuckle. “Yeah, well, people do shitty things sometimes. Guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

He noticed the way you seemed to relax as if you were relieved that he wasn’t angry. He needed to shift the conversation away from Jessica, and back to you, where it should be. “But hey,” he said, his voice brightening as if he was genuinely trying to shake off the bad memories, “Everything happens for a reason right?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. “Right."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re not like everyone else around here. You’re real, y’know? Genuine. I like that.”

Bullshit. But he could see the effect his words had on you. Easy.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you looked away, a small, shy smile playing on your lips. “I’m just…here.”

Rafe shook his head, his smile softening, taking on a more sincere tone. “I’m glad I’m getting the chance to see that.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at him with those wide eyes, as if you were trying to figure him out. Rafe held your gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make the moment feel meaningful, even though he knew exactly what he was doing. He was reeling you in, one calculated move at a time.

Finally, you nodded, lips twitching, “Thanks, Rafe."

Oh, you were too perfect for this.

He grinned, leaning back in his chair as if the conversation had lightened his mood.

 “Anytime."

It was a perfect conversation, one that made you feel like he was letting you in on something personal, something real. And from the look on your face, it worked.

But inside, Rafe was fuming. Jessica had managed to worm her way into his head again, even indirectly. It was a reminder of why he was doing this in the first place. 

He plastered on another smile, picking up his pen and tapping it lightly against his notebook. “So,” he said, steering the conversation back to safer waters, “You think you can help me with this econ stuff? Because I’m pretty sure I’m doomed without you.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier completely dissipating. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

As you both turned your attention back to your notes, Rafe felt a sense of satisfaction. He was winning that bet on way or another. 

Over the next few weeks, Rafe made sure to stick to his plan. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life. He was always around, ready with a casual compliment or a small gesture that made you feel noticed, special. He’d walk you to class, carry your books, and offer to study with you whenever he had the chance. He knew how to play the long game, and with every passing day, you were warming up to him more and more.

He made sure to steer clear of anything that might remind you of Jessica or his past. Instead, he focused on building up your confidence, subtly encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

He’d invite you to parties, introducing you to his friends, and before long, you were starting to come out of your shell. You even started to dress a little differently—nothing too drastic, but enough to catch people’s attention. The change was gradual, but it was happening, and Rafe could see it.

The first party he invited you to was at a swanky off-campus house, the kind of place you’d only ever heard about but never had the nerve to attend. He had that effect on you—made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you belonged in a world that had always seemed so out of reach. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Rafe said, his voice smooth as silk. You hesitated, biting your lip, feeling out of place just imagining yourself in his world.

“I don’t know… I’m not really into parties,” you admitted.

Rafe grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen. Just give it a try, for me?”

His gaze was so earnest, so convincing, that you found yourself nodding. “Okay. I guess I could give it a shot.”

The first party was initially awkward—loud music, people you didn’t know, and a social scene that felt worlds away from where you belonged. 

But Rafe stayed close. 

The moment you walked in, the loud music and flashing lights overwhelmed your senses. You clung a little closer to him, who noticed and shot you a reassuring smile, his hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd. He was different tonight—more confident, more assertive. 

“Relax,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re with me. Have some fun, sweets.”

You nodded, trying to loosen up, but the eyes on you—on both of you—were hard to ignore. People were noticing. Whispering. It was exactly what Rafe wanted.

He led you to where Kelce and Topper were already posted up, drinks in hand. The second they saw you, their eyebrows shot up, but they quickly masked their surprise with easy smiles. Rafe kept you close as he greeted them, his hand never leaving your back.

“Guys, this is her,” Rafe said, his tone casual but with a hint of pride. “Told you I’d get her to come out with us.”

Kelce looked you up and down, his smirk growing. “Well, well, Cameron. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Topper raised his drink in your direction, his smile more genuine. “Nice to meet you. Rafe’s been talking you up.”

You managed a small chuckle, feeling the weight of their attention on you. “Nice to meet you too.”

Rafe gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you grab a drink? I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, grateful for the brief escape, and headed towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. As soon as you were out of earshot, the easygoing demeanor Rafe had been maintaining with you slipped away, replaced by something more calculating as he turned back to his friends.

“So?” Kelce asked, “How’s the project going?”

Rafe shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Better than expected. She’s starting to come out of her shell. Still got a long way to go, but I’d say we’re on track.”

Topper leaned against the counter, his gaze following you as you picked out a drink. “She seems… nice. You sure you want to go through with this, man?”

Rafe shot him a look, his expression hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Topper shrugged. “Just saying. She doesn’t seem like the type who’s cut out for this crowd. Might be too sweet for what you’ve got planned.”

Kelce chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s sweet, alright. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? She’s not Jessica. And if he pulls this off, it’s gonna be legendary.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk. “Exactly. She’s perfect for this.”

He said it with confidence, but there was something else in his eyes—something he quickly buried as he watched you make your way back with a drink in hand.

When you returned to the group, his expression softened instantly. He slipped back into the charming, attentive guy he’d been playing for you all night.

“Got something good?” he asked, nodding towards your drink.

You giggled, holding up your cup. “Just punch. Thought I’d start slow.”

He snorted, nodding approvingly. “Smart move. Don’t let these guys talk you into anything too crazy.”

The night went on like that, Rafe playing the perfect gentleman, always by your side, making sure you were comfortable, that you were enjoying yourself. He introduced you to more people, his arm around your shoulders, subtly guiding you through the social maze with ease. And every time you excused yourself—whether to grab another drink or use the restroom—his demeanor shifted. The smile would slip, and he’d share knowing looks with his friends, a silent acknowledgment of the game they were playing.

But you didn’t see any of that. 

You saw the guy who made you feel like you were finally part of something bigger, like you belonged. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, laughing, talking, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself start to come down.

Rafe noticed, of course. That was the whole point. He’d spent weeks laying the groundwork, and tonight was just the beginning. He was getting what he wanted.

But as he watched you laugh at something Kelce said, genuinely enjoying yourself, he felt a pang of something unfamiliar. It was brief, fleeting, but it was there. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something else. He quickly pushed it aside, reminding himself why he was doing this.

He knew better than to get too comfortable. 

He knew his ex wouldn’t stay out of his business forever, and sure enough, she confronted him right before class the next day.

“Rafe, can we talk?”

He didn’t look at her right away, instead shoving his notebook into his bag as if she wasn’t even worth the effort. But he couldn’t resist; he turned to her, keeping his expression neutral. “What’s up?”

Jessica glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before stepping closer to him. Her voice was low, almost pleading. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. “What do you mean?”

She huffed in frustration, clearly not in the mood for games. “Don’t act like you don’t know. She’s a nice girl, I know she’s not your type.”

Rafe couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Jealous?

Jessica’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—guilt. 

“No. You’re just going to use her to get back at me? That’s not fair. She doesn’t deserve that.”

He leaned in closer, his smirk turning cold. “You didn’t think about fairness when you were sneaking around with Tyler, did you? Why should I care about what she deserves?”

"Rafe."

"You only care about your precious reputation, so shut the fuck up."

Jessica flinched, “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”

“Do you even realize what you did to me?” The memory of the last time he’d trusted her flashed before his eyes—the way she’d smiled at him. The same smile she had for someone else, “You don’t get to apologize now. You don’t get to tell me what’s fair.”

Jessica’s expression softened, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m not saying this for me. I’m saying it for her."

"Right, because you care so much about other people, huh?"

"You're being difficult for no reason."

Rafe clenched his jaw, every word she said feeling like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted to lash out, to tell her that she didn’t get to play the moral high ground after everything she’d done. But instead, he just stared at her, his eyes hard and cold.

“Stay out of it, Jess” he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. “And keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as if she’d been expecting this. “Just think about it before you do something stupid."

Without another word, Jessica turned and walked away, leaving Rafe standing there, seething with anger. He watched her go, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Of course, she would act like she gave a shit about you the moment he’s attention shifted from her. She had no right to lecture him, no right to tell him what to do.

This was about revenge, about proving a point. You were just a means to an end, nothing more.

But you made it so fucking hard for him to keep his head in the game. 

Every time you smiled at him, every time you thanked him for something small, it chipped away at the cold resolve he had built up inside. He told himself it was just part of the plan, that getting close to you was necessary for the outcome he wanted. But the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he was enjoying himself. 

He didn't even have to put in the effort to influence you. You began to speak up in class, even crack jokes with the other girls on the cheerleading squad. The transformation was happening right before his eyes, just like he’d planned. But instead of feeling satisfied, there was a knot of guilt forming in his stomach. You were changing, yes, but it wasn’t just on the outside. You were starting to trust him, to look at him like he was more than just some popular guy who was doing you a favor. You were starting to care, and that terrified him.

One night, after another party where you had danced a little closer, laughed a little louder, Rafe walked you back to your dorm. The campus was quiet, the stars above bright against the inky sky. You were buzzing with the energy of the night, still talking animatedly about how much fun you’d had. The sound of your laughter, the way your eyes lit up—it caught him off guard.

“Thanks for inviting me, Rafe. I never thought I’d actually enjoy these things, but you make it… I don’t know, easier, I guess.”

Rafe smiled down at you, trying to ignore the way his heart twisted at your words. 

“I’m glad sweets. You deserve to have fun.”

You looked up at him, your eyes softening. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly. For everything. You didn’t have to be this nice to me.”

For a split second, he saw you. Not as a means to an end, but as someone he genuinely cared about.

His expression faltered for a moment before he quickly recovered. “It’s no big deal. Really.”

But it was a big deal, and you both knew it.

You had gone from barely existing on the social radar to being someone everyone noticed, someone everyone wanted to be around. And it was all because of him. Rafe had given you that, but he knew he was taking something from you too—your innocence, your trust.

He walked you to your door, his usual confidence wavering as you turned to face him. There was something different in your gaze tonight, something that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Rafe… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” you began, your voice a little hesitant.

He forced himself to stay calm, even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “Yeah? What’s up?”

You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your top before meeting his eyes again. “Why did you start talking to me? I mean, really. Was it because you felt sorry for me? Or… or something else?”

Rafe’s mind raced, trying to find the right words, the ones that wouldn’t hurt you. He could lie, like he’d been doing all along, or he could tell you the truth, risk everything.

But before he could answer, you continued, your voice softer now. “Because… I’m glad you did. Whatever the reason was. I’ve never felt this… this good about myself. And it’s because of you.”

Rafe swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

Fuck. He’d never expected this, never thought that you would be the one to make him feel something real, something that wasn’t just part of his stupid revenge plan.

He’d thought he could control this, control you, but it was slipping through his fingers. He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’ve always been amazing,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “I just… I just helped you see it.”

You grinned up at him, your eyes shining with gratitud. It was too much, too real, and Rafe could feel the walls he’d carefully constructed around his heart starting to crumble. You were looking at him like he was someone worth caring about, and for the first time, he felt like he was the one being played.

He couldn’t let you get any closer. If you did, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plan.

But pushing you away now, after all the effort he’d put in, would raise too many questions. So, he did the only thing he could think of—he leaned down and kissed you.

It was gentle at first, testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something fragile. Your lips were soft against his, and for a moment, Rafe let himself forget why he was doing this. He let himself enjoy the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you sighed softly into his mouth.

But then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back.

The look in your eyes nearly undid him. There was so much trust, so much hope, and it made him want to break something, anything, just to stop feeling the way he did.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice rough, as if the kiss had taken something out of him.

You nodded, still dazed, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

This was wrong. 

He knew it was wrong. But in that moment, with the way you were looking at him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He watched you go, waiting until you disappeared into your dorm before he let out a shaky breath.

What the fuck was he doing? He couldn’t afford to second-guess himself now. Not when he was so close to winning and yet, he couldn’t help but feel that he was the one who was losing.

Later that night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Jessica’s words mocked him.

“I’m sorry okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”

He had scoffed at her then, dismissed her excuses as pathetic attempts to justify her shitty behavior.

But now, lying there alone, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was any different. He didn’t plan on feeling anything real for you. This was supposed to be a game, a way to hurt Jessica the way she hurt him. But somewhere along the line, things had changed.

How could he let this happen? How could he, of all people, start to care? He was supposed to be in control, supposed to be the one pulling the strings, not getting tangled in them.

And yet, the memory of your pretty face, the sound of your laugh, the warmth in your eyes—these were the things that lingered in his mind, all the damn time. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.

The anger and bitterness that had fueled him for weeks were still there, but they were being drowned out by something else—you.

Rafe’s resolve had been wavering for days, but he pushed the guilt aside as he drove to campus the next morning. He was picking you up before class, something that had become a bit of a routine. It was a small gesture, but one that made you smile every time, and Rafe had to admit, he looked forward to seeing that smile.

When he pulled up to your dorm, you were already waiting outside, your bag slung over your shoulder. You looked different from when he first met you—still shy, but with a confidence that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, but Rafe noticed. 

He noticed everything about you these days.

“Hey,” you said as you slid into the passenger seat, giving him that small smile that always made his chest tighten a little. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Anytime,” he replied smoothly, shifting the car into gear. “Ready for another day of fun and learning?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was a lightness in your expression that hadn’t been there a month ago. “If by fun, you mean trying not to fall asleep in econ, then yeah, totally ready.”

He chuckled, glancing over at you as he pulled onto the road. “I’m starting to think you secretly enjoy econ. You’re just trying to maintain your cool, indifferent persona.”

You laughed, the sound genuine and free, and Rafe felt that unfamiliar pang in his chest again.

“Yeah, that’s me. The cool, indifferent econ nerd.”

“See? I knew it,” Rafe teased, but there was an edge of something else in his voice, something he couldn’t quite shake.

The drive to campus was easy, filled with light conversation and the comfortable silence that had developed between you two. When you arrived, he parked in his usual spot, but instead of getting out right away, you turned to him, your expression suddenly serious.

“Rafe, can I ask you something?”

He froze for a split second, his mind racing. Had you figured it out? Did you know about the bet? But he quickly forced a casual smile, nodding.

“Sure sweets, what’s up?”

You hesitated, chewing on your lower lip, a habit he’d noticed you had when you were nervous.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest. This was the moment he’d been dreading—the moment when you’d start questioning everything. He couldn’t afford to slip up now.

“Why not?” he said, his tone light, but there was a hint of sincerity that even he didn’t expect. “I like you. I like being around you.”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his, trying to find the truth in his words. Rafe held your gaze, doing his best to keep his expression open and honest. After a moment, you nodded, as if you’d decided to believe him.

“Okay,” you said. “I just... I didn’t want to assume, y’know? It’s just... new.”

“Good new, though, right?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “Good new.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur, with classes, coffee breaks, and more of Rafe’s effortless charm. But that moment in the car stuck with him. You were starting to get closer, to trust him, and every time you did, the guilt fucked with his head a little more. 

Later that day, when the two of you met up for a late lunch, he noticed the way you had begun to attract attention from others. Some guys glanced your way, clearly noticing the changes in you, and a few girls even stopped to chat with you—a far cry from the shy girl he’d first approached in the library.

As you two sat down at a table outside the campus cafe, he saw the way your eyes lit up when you spotted someone approaching. It was Leila, a girl from your cheer squad. She waved and came over, sitting down.

“Hey, you two,” she greeted, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. “Mind if I join?”

“Sure,” you said, scooting over to make room for her. He nodded, keeping his expression neutral, but there was something about the way Leila looked at you that put him on edge.

The conversation flowed easily, with her complimenting you on something you’d done at practice the other day, and you blushing at the praise.

Rafe watched, a small smile on his face, but his mind was elsewhere. He could see how much you were changing, how you were starting to come into your own, and it was becoming harder and harder to justify what he was doing.

When Leila left after a few minutes, you turned to Rafe with a grin. “She’s nice. I didn’t think she even noticed me before.”

“She notices you now,” Rafe replied, his voice quieter than usual.

You looked at him, your smile fading slightly. “Is something wrong?”

Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No, nothing. Just... thinking.”

“About what?”

He leaned back in his chair. “About how you’re starting to steal everyone’s attention here. What am I gonna do when you’re the most popular one around here?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.”

Rafe smiled back, but the guilt was back, stronger than ever. You were starting to trust him, to believe in the friendship he was offering, and it was killing him.

As the afternoon wore on, he found himself more and more distracted by his thoughts. He needed to talk to someone about it, someone who knew the score.

Later that evening, after dropping you off at your dorm, he called Kelce. The phone rang a few times before his friend picked up, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Yo, Cameron. What’s up?”

Rafe took a deep breath, leaning against the side of his car. “I need to talk, man. About the bet.”

Kelce laughed, clearly not picking up on the seriousness in Rafe’s voice. “What, you already feeling bad for her? Didn’t think you’d go soft so fast.”

Rafe frowned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that. It’s just... I didn’t think it’d be like this. She’s... she’s actually really nice, Kelce. Like, genuinely nice.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Kelce responded, his tone more serious.

“Dude, we all knew she was nice. That’s what makes this so good. You’re flipping the script. Just remember why you’re doing it.”

Rafe let out a frustrated sigh. “I know, but... She trusts me."

And I trust her, he wanted to add, but didn't.

“Look, Rafe, you’re in too deep to back out now. If you quit, she’ll still get hurt, and you’ll look like a fucking idiot. You gotta see this through. Just... keep your eye on the prize, okay? It’s not about her, it’s about Jessica.”

Rafe nodded, even though Kelce couldn’t see him. “Yeah... yeah, you’re right. I just needed to clear my head.”

“Good,” Kelce said. “Now go get some sleep or something. We’ve got a party this weekend, and I wanna see you back on your game.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, man.”

By Friday, the campus was buzzing with weekend plans, and you were in a good mood, chatting excitedly about some party that night. You two were in the cafeteria, grabbing lunch, when it happened.

You were waiting in line for food, and Rafe had stepped aside to check his phone. When he glanced up, he saw a guy approaching you—a guy he recognized from the football team. A sleazy bastard.

The guy leaned in, flashing you a charming smirk, clearly trying to flirt. He wanted to pummel his face to the wall. Rafe watched from a distance as the guy made you laugh, his hand casually resting on the counter next to yours. Too fucking close.

The sight made something twist in his chest, something dark and possessive that he hadn’t expected. He'd never felt like this before. His grip tightened around his phone as he watched, his jaw clenching.

You seemed flattered but a little uncomfortable, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. Rafe could tell you weren’t used to this kind of attention, and it made him feel something primal, something that burned hotter than the guilt. He wanted to go over there, to tell that guy to back the fuck off, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, seething, trying to keep his cool.

Scaring you away was the last thing he wanted to do.

When the guy finally walked away, you looked relieved, but Rafe was already moving. He crossed the cafeteria in quick strides, his eyes locked on you, his heart pounding. You spotted him coming and smiled, but it fell when you saw the look on his face.

“Rafe, what’s—”

He didn’t let you finish. Before you could say another word, he was right in front of you, his hand cupping your face as he pulled you toward him.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t like the kiss outsider your dorm. This was different. It was fierce, almost desperate as if he needed to prove something to himself, to you, and to everyone watching. His lips moved against yours with intensity, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you closer. He didn’t care who was around, who was watching. 

All he cared about was you, right there, in his arms.

You froze for a second, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then you melted into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. It was like all the tension, all the confusion, everything that had been building between you two, finally snapped.

Rafe deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. His fingers tangled in your hair, and you let out a soft moan that only made him kiss you harder, his body pressing against yours like he couldn’t get enough.

People around you were definitely watching now, whispering, some even cheering, but Rafe didn’t care. He didn’t pull away until he was breathless, and even then, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw the way you were looking at him—dazed, flushed, your lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss.

“What... what was that?” you asked, your voice shaky, your eyes searching his for answers.

Rafe knew he should say something, explain himself, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again. Instead, he just shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Just couldn’t help myself,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

You blinked up at him, still trying to process what had just happened, but there was no mistaking the way your body was responding to him. 

He finally stepped back, but kept his hand on your waist, grounding you as he looked around. Sure enough, the guy from earlier was watching. 

Rafe caught his eye, giving him a look that said everything without words. She’s mine.

When he looked back at you, he saw the confusion in your eyes and something else—something that looked a lot like longing.

He knew he’d just crossed a line, again, but in that moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the way you felt in his arms, the way you looked at him like he was the only guy in the world.

“C’mon,” Rafe said, his voice softer now. “We’ve got class.”

You nodded, still a little dazed, and let him guide you out of the cafeteria, his hand never leaving yours. He was in deeper than ever, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when you looked at him like that, not when his heart was pounding like this.

As you approached the building where your next class was, he stopped, turning to face you. He touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you leaned into his touch.

“Rafe—”

“You’re my girl,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours again. “Okay?”

You nodded, your breath hitching as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and trusting. Rafe knew he was on the edge of something he couldn’t control, but as he leaned in for one more kiss, slow and tender this time, he realized he didn’t care.

“Rafe…” you began again, speaking against his lips. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to understand about what you were, what you two were becoming. His thumb traced the curve of your jawline.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent. “I just… I need you to know that you mean something to me. This, us—"

“Okay.”

He was already in too deep.

And just like that, he got what he wanted. 

The next day, everything seemed to fall into place as if the universe has finally aligned for you. He asked you out, and just like that, you were together.

The next two months were a dream—utter bliss. You weren’t just happy; you were radiant. You’d become the most popular girl in school, and with him by your side, it felt like you were living in some sort of fairy tale. 

Every smile he gave you, every touch, every whispered confession of how perfect you were sent you soaring higher. He couldn’t get enough of you—your sweetness, your kindness, your genuine heart. It was as if he was falling more and more in love with you every single day. And you, you had never felt this alive.

But deep down, in a place he didn’t dare acknowledge, there was a shadow, a sliver of guilt that he pushed aside every time he looked into your trusting eyes.

He never officially ended the bet with Kelce and Topper. It was just a stupid game, something that seemed so insignificant compared to what he feels for you now. He told himself that he had forgotten about it, that it didn’t matter anymore.

After all, what you two had is real, right? And you, completely oblivious to the sinister origins of your relationship, continued to believe in the fairy tale.

Until it ended. 

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

It’s after cheerleading practice, and you’re alone in the locker room, stuffing your things into your bag. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and body spray, the usual post-practice atmosphere, but there’s something different today—a tension you can’t quite place. 

As you’re zipping up your bag, you hear voices nearby, just around the corner. Leila and Jessica, their conversation low but unmistakable. You wouldn’t normally eavesdrop, but something about the tone of their voices makes you pause, your heart suddenly beating a little faster.

"You were right," Leila says, her voice edged with a cruel satisfaction. "About your gut feeling with Rafe and his new girl."

Oh.

Jessica sounds tired, almost defeated. "What do you mean?"

Leila sighs, a dark amusement in her tone. "Kelce spilled everything when we hooked up last week. He was too high to keep his mouth shut. Rafe’s been playing her this whole time, using her to mess with you. It was all a bet."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t move, can’t think. The room spins around you, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

No. No, this can’t be real.

Leila’s voice continues, completely unaware of the devastation she’s causing. "It's so fucked up. She has no idea. She’s out there thinking he’s her Prince Charming, and all along it was just some sick game."

Jessica doesn’t say anything, but you can’t bear to hear more. You feel like you’re suffocating, your chest tightening as panic floods your system.

Before you know it, you’re running—out of the locker room, down the hall, anywhere to get away from those words, those horrible, soul-crushing words. Tears blur your vision as you stumble outside, gasping for air, for some kind of escape from the nightmare that’s suddenly become your reality.

The ache in your chest doesn’t fade as you bolt from the locker room, tears hot on your cheeks. You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you can’t stop moving. The hallways blur past you as you wipe at your eyes, struggling to catch your breath. Rage and heartbreak twist inside you like a knife, and before you know it, you find yourself standing outside the gym, where the sounds of basketball practice echo through the double doors.

You push through the doors without thinking, your heart pounding in your ears. The gym is full of movement—squeaking sneakers, the thud of the ball against the court, and the grunts of effort as the players practice their drills. But all of it fades into the background as soon as your eyes lock onto Rafe.

He’s in the middle of a play, dribbling the ball down the court with that intense focus you’ve always admired. For a moment, you hesitate, that familiar warmth of seeing him almost enough to make you stop. But then the memory of Leila’s words slams into you like a wave, and the anger surges back, drowning out everything else.

You storm across the gym, your footsteps heavy on the polished floor. Some of the players notice you, their eyes widening in surprise, but you don’t care. You’re beyond caring. The only thing that matters is confronting him, making him face what he’s done.

"Cameron!" you shout, your voice sharp, cutting through the noise of the practice.

He turns at the sound of your voice, surprise flashing across his face. The ball slips from his hands, bouncing away as the other players stop, confusion rippling through the group. You always call him by his name.

The coach starts to say something, but you barely hear him. All you can see is Rafe, standing there, looking at you with those eyes that you once thought held nothing but affection for you. 

Now, all you see is a liar.

“What’s wrong baby?” He jogs over to you, his brow furrowing.

You don’t answer immediately, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to hold yourself together.

But it’s impossible.

“Was I a bet?”

His expression changes from confusion to something closer to horror, his mouth opening as if to say something, but nothing comes out. The sound of your voice, trembling with disbelief and pain, seems to have stunned him into silence.

For a moment, you just stare at each other. You want him to deny it, to laugh and tell you it’s all some terrible misunderstanding. But deep down, you already know the truth. You saw it in his eyes the second he turned to face you, that flicker of guilt, that flash of something wildly desperate.

He reaches for you, his voice breaking. "Baby, wait, let me explain—”

“Was I a fucking bet?” you repeat, your voice louder this time, edged with a desperate, frantic energy that you can’t control. You take a step back as he tries to get closer, every muscle in your body screaming to get away from him, to escape the unbearable weight of the truth.

His eyes are pleading, searching yours for something, anything that might make this easier, but there’s nothing. No words, no excuses that can make this hurt any less.

“It started as a bet,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but to you, it’s as loud as a gunshot. “But it’s not like that, I swear. I—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

He flinches at your words, pain flashing across his face, but you can’t stop. It’s like all the anger, all the heartbreak, all the humiliation you’ve been choking down is pouring out of you in a torrent, and you don’t have the strength to hold it back. You can see the panic rising in him, the desperation as he realizes just how badly he’s messed up. He takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you jerk away, 

“We’re done.”

“Please, just listen,” he pleads, his voice cracking.

“No.”

And with that, you leave. 

Rafe’s voice echoes behind you as you walk away, but you refuse to look back. The gym doors swing shut, muffling the sounds of the practice resuming, and you’re left in the eerily quiet hallway, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 

The locker room is cold and empty when you push open the door. The scent of body spray and sweat lingers in the air. You head straight to your locker again, hands trembling as you fumble with the lock, desperate to escape. But before you can get it open, the door swings wide behind you, and you know, without turning around, that he followed you.

“Go away,” you say, your voice barely holding steady.

“I can’t,” he says, his voice strained with desperation. “Not like this.”

You spin around, your eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t get to decide that. You used me! And for what? Some sick joke with your friends?”

He takes a step closer, his hands raised as if to placate you, but you back away, your heart pounding. “I know I messed up,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I know I should’ve told you the truth, but I—”

“But you didn’t,” you cut him off, your voice rising. “You let me believe that you cared about me, that everything was real, and all the while it was just a game to you. You and your friends laughed in my face the entire time, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t a game,” he insists, his voice cracking. “It wasn't supposed to be like this, okay? This wasn't the plan. I changed. Being with you... it was the only thing that felt real to me.”

You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t believe you.” 

Rafe looks at you, his expression torn between guilt and desperation. 

“It wasn’t a joke. It started as a stupid bet, but I never expected to actually—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I care about you. That’s real.”

For a moment, you see the boy who had made you feel special, who had made you believe in something more. But it's not enough.

“I don’t even know who you are."

You want to believe him, to take solace in the idea that some part of what you had was real, but you can't. You shake your head again, a sob choking you as you turn away from him, your back pressing against the cold metal of the locker.

“It isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “It’s not supposed to feel like a knife in your chest.”

Rafe takes another step closer, “Please, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Just give me a chance to make this right.”

"You don’t get to have a chance. You don’t get to pretend this is some kind of love story. You lied to me. You used me.”

You look at him then, really look at him, and all you see is the boy who broke your heart. The boy who turned your world upside down with a single lie. You know that if you stay, if you let him talk, you might be tempted to forgive him. But you can’t. 

Not this time.

With a deep breath, you straighten up, wiping away the tears that have stained your cheeks. “I’m done.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice thick with desperation.

But you’ve made up your mind. 

“I mean it. We’re done. I need you to stay away from me.”

The words hit him like a physical blow, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring at you as if he can’t believe what you’re saying.

But then he sees the resolve in your eyes, the finality in your tone, and he knows there’s no coming back from this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, you turn away from him, pushing past the locker room door and walking away. You hesitate for a split second. A small voice inside you screams to turn back, to give him one more chance, but then you imagine the laughter, the cruel satisfaction. 

The image of Rafe with his friends, laughing at your expense, sears itself into your mind. 

The door slams shut behind him, and he leans against it, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He doesn’t feel victorious. Instead, there’s a hollowness, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind that asks, “What now?” He clenches his fists, trying to silence it, but the emptiness remains.

This time, he doesn’t follow you. 

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part VII)

Pairing | Eddie Munson x shy!reader

Warnings | 18+ only, do not interact if you are underage. Heavy petting, P in V sex, soft dom!Eddie. Discussion of uncomfortable sexual experiences. Inordinate amount of praise kink, good girl's, and vulnerability on both sides.

Word count | ~10,000

Taglist

Previous Chapter

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Most days, walking into the cafeteria comes with a cool sense of dread. A heaviness in your chest, mind working overtime to prepare yourself for an hour not quite talking with your not quite friends. You’re never sure what you prefer; the white hot shame that comes with laughter at your expense, or the simmering ache from being ignored entirely.

But there’s a levity to your mood today. You’re proud, or maybe more accurately relieved, at the circled red letter on the top right of your Chemistry test. 

You spot May at the usual table as you file in, catching her excited wave over the head of some of the cheer girls. The others offer a cursory glance before returning to their conversation, but May’s expression is expectant. “So? How’d you do?”

You grin. “A minus.”

“I knew it!” She squeals, removing her bag from the chair next to her to make space for you. “You always make a big deal out of tests, and then breeze through!”

She’s half right. 

Something about the weight of potential failure, some unknown consequence to doing poorly, always has you worrying about tests days prior, heart pounding in the moments before you flip the paper. Then you second guess yourself all the way through, scribbling over wrong answers before writing the same thing down again.  

But you certainly don’t breeze through. The weight of this test on your mind had you bursting into tears in Eddie’s van last week. What was supposed to be a movie theatre date turned into an impromptu study session at the library. Eddie sat opposite you while you read over your notes, writing up his campaign ideas and flicking through a book he’d found in the fantasy section before working begrudgingly on an essay about JFK he was supposed to have handed in the week before. He switched to the seat next to you when you failed to hide a sniffle, let you tuck yourself under his arm and press your face to his shoulder.

“C’mon,” he said eventually, coaxing you out from the damp spot on the collar of his shirt. “Talk me through what you don’t get, okay? I bet the answer’s up here.” He pressed a finger to your forehead, narrowing his eyes like he could pinpoint the spot in your brain the information was hiding. “We just gotta knock it loose somehow.”

He must, truly, have been bored to death as you went through the problem, starting over again and again each time you explained yourself into a corner. But he listened anyway, prompted you to keep going until you came to an answer that satisfied you, a conclusion that made sense, and then he listened to the next problem.

You apologised at the end of the night. For all the hysterics, for dragging him along to a joyless evening. He’d swiped the thought away with a casual wave of his hand. “You couldn’t be my smart girl if you didn’t have to study sometimes.”

Just thinking about it now, your eyes flicker from May’s hand on the back of the empty chair beside her to the place Eddie sits, far on the other side of the room. 

It’s an invisible line you haven’t crossed, spending any time with him at lunch. Eddie would never let you question whether he wanted you to sit with him, never let you worry about seeming clingy. He’d made it clear you were always welcome. What stopped you was that tug at your heart, that feeling that you’d be taking another step away, putting more distance between you and your friends. Or May, at least. You can’t remember the last time Heather sat with you more than once a week. 

And you promised, sincerely, that you would try a bit harder with the cheer girls. Apart from that one tipsy conversation with Tracy at a party, you’re not sure you’ve quite fulfilled that.

But you want so badly to tell him. Shamefully, it was your first thought when you turned your paper over today. Along with the usual relief came excitement, knowing Eddie would be pleased for you and make it clear, call you his smart girl till your face burns hot. 

“I’m just-” You start, tucking your bag up on your shoulder, glancing back to May. “I’m just gonna show Eddie quickly.”

There’s a pause. Her pleased expression, the gentle curve of her wax pink lips, doesn’t falter. Instead, it seems to calcify on her face. “Oh. You’re gonna sit over there?”

“Just for a while,” you reason. “Just to show him my grade. Okay?”

She makes a high mm hmm noise, half agreeing, half unsure, but you decide to take it at face value, making a beeline for Eddie’s table. 

As usual, he sits at the head, the frizz of his hair lit up in the natural light from the window behind him. His expression is a touch bored, eyes blinking slowly, chin resting on his palm as a boy at the other end of the table - young, with tight brown curls tucked under a yellow cap - talks a mile a minute. You catch the words radio and roof as you approach, but your own mind goes blank when you reach them.

You’d feel only excitement, if it was just Eddie who noticed your presence. For his part, his whole posture changes; from slumped over the table to sitting straight up, his pouty lips turning to an excited smile in your direction as his hand drops away from his chin. But on top of that, six additional faces turn to watch you walk up the side of the table. Maybe you could handle three, used to some attention from Jeff, Gareth and Matthew at this point, comfortable in their acceptance of your silly little fidgets and occasional long silences. 

But the other three, all freshmen, staring at you like you grew another head on the way over, have you shuffling in place, playing with the strap of your bag. You vaguely know Mike from watching him run out the door on the occasions you’ve babysat Holly, though his hair is a good couple inches longer than the last time you spent an evening at the Wheeler’s. The others, Lucas and Dustin, you know both from Eddie’s descriptions and his complaints. 

“Hi,” you say, voice quieter than you’d like as you wave at the group. 

“To what do we owe this pleasure, Princess?” 

Your mouth opens, and your throat closes. Your face feels suddenly warm under the eyes of his whole table. In an instant, you regret coming over here. What must you look like? What will they think of you, when they realise you came over here to brag about a simple test result? 

Eddie hums a questioning sound, bringing your focus back to him. He’s looking at you the way he does when you both know you’re going to have to be the one to speak first. There’s anticipation there, but the little curve of his lips is all kind patience. 

You swallow, glance down the table again. You make eye contact with Lucas, give him an awkward smile at his friendly wave. Even at that, you know the words won’t come. Sighing quietly, you unzip your bag and search through your books for the test, drawing out the paper and fiddling with the corner for a second. How do you tell him, all of them, that you really aren’t bragging? That more than anything you just want to thank him? 

Eddie’s eyebrows raise as he looks between you and the paper. When he holds his hand out, and you find yourself passing it to him instinctively, toes curling in your shoes.

“An A!?” He screeches immediately, thoroughly dispelling any hope you might have had that he’d keep it to himself. Though your face burns, you fight the urge to glance around and offer an apologetic smile to his group, to the people that turned at the sound of his yell, because this is Eddie. Any embarrassment you might feel pales in comparison to hearing the pride in his voice, to see it on his face. What do judgmental looks and cruel whispers from strangers mean to you when they’re caused by Eddie, so excited and pleased for you that he’ll yell it publicly?

You tuck the top of your foot to the back of your ankle, playing with your skirt, correcting him shyly. “An A minus.”

Eddie scoffs. “An A’s and A, sweetheart. I’d know, I’ve missed enough of them.” 

Knowing now that at least Eddie himself has taken it the right way, you let yourself indulge. “I was two marks off a real A.”

Eddie’s hand slams down on the table with a bang, making you and everyone in the surrounding area jump as he rises, kicking his chair back with a screech. You watch, left in some strange place between proud and mortified as he practically floats over to the neighbouring table, flicking the paper at a group of juniors dressed exclusively in neon. 

“You see that? My girlfriend got a fucking A in Mr Brown’s AP Chemistry class!” He moves the paper around, displaying it for each of them. “That shit’s like fucking gold dust- hey!” He turns to shake it at a passing boy with a calculator in his breast pocket. “You’re in that class, right? How’d you do in this test, huh?” 

“If you must know, Munson, I got an A plus.” 

There’s a moment of silence.

“Okay, man. Shit. Kinda showing off a little-” He turns to you, eyes wide and head tilted as if to say get a load of this guy, but you’re shaking your head, desperately biting back a smile. 

“Eddie!” 

“Ah, she calls to me.” He drifts over to you then, frizzed hair flying out behind him. You giggle a little wildly behind your hands, still shaking your head at him though any disapproval is for show at this point. Everyone who turned to watch Eddie crow seems to have returned to their conversations, this side of the room apparently well used to his outbursts. He stops close enough that he’s all you can see; his dimpled smile, eyes shining at you while he hands you your test back. 

“Take my seat, Princess.” He gestures with a wide arm, directing you to the chair he rose from. You make a quick glance over at the cheer table, find Caroline just sitting down now with her tray, and feel an unusual sense of relief. It feels like freedom, to be on this side of the room, and not directly under her gaze. 

By the time you’re settled in his seat, Eddie has retrieved a spare chair, carrying it above his head and dropping it down next to you with another outrageous bash. He collapses into it, his arm finding the back of your chair as he leans in to Jeff, sitting on your left. “You’re in that class, too, right man?” 

“You know, we’ve been friends three years now, Eddie, and you’ve never once taken an interest in my grades,” Jeff answers, shutting down Eddie’s inquiry before he can really ask. He turns to you. “Bet it was question 18 that got you, huh?”

“Mm, no, that was okay.” You answer. “Eddie and I went over retention factors so much at the library last week. I understand it way better now.”

Six pairs of eyes blink at you, and the relief you were experiencing is fading fast. Instead, you get the recognizable sense that you said something wrong. Your foot starts tapping at pace, fingers finding the edge of the table and running over the edge.

“You were at the library?” Gareth asks Eddie, aghast tone mocking but serious in its surprise.

“I’ve been to the library before,” Eddie bites. “M’there all the time.”

“We’re not talking about monopolising the fantasy section, here,” Matthew says. “You were studying, Eds.”

“I told you,” Eddie replies, widening his legs until you feel the denim of his jeans rough against your bobbing calf. “I’m working hard this year. Trying to get out of this shithole.” He presses his leg more firmly to yours, and you realise it’s a deliberate touch, a silent reminder that he’s there, that he’s not going to leave you alone with whatever’s got you fidgeting.  

“You said that last year,” Jeff says.

“And the year before that,” chimes Gareth through a bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah, well, I meant it this time,” he says, leaning back in his seat with a deep sigh. “Jesus, Henderson, you look like you’re gonna explode. Go on. So you’ve built your stereo on the roof.”

“Not a stereo, Eddie- a radio!” Dustin cries through a mouthful of cafeteria lasagne. 

Eddie’s face darkens. “Do I look like I give a- Christ.” He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head with genuine frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever, man. Please, please, just finish your story so we can all move on with our lives.”

Undeterred by Eddie’s rough tone, Dustin launches right back into what he’d been speaking about as you approached. Mainly focused on how he convinced his Mom to let him up on the roof in the first place.

You sigh in quiet relief as the attention of the table moves swiftly away from you, leg slowing until it stops shaking altogether. Eddie’s knee bumps yours, and you feel the warmth of him as he leans in to speak softly, just to you.

“My smart girl,” he says, drawing pleased shivers up your spine. “You deserve it, yeah? You worked real hard.”

“I wanted,” you start, grabbing at his sleeve, thumbing the chain that holds the leather together. “I wanted to say thank you for helping me. I know it was kinda boring.”

“Nah, glad I could help.” Eddie’s expression turns a touch sheepish. “I, uh, actually got a C on that History essay? Mrs Kelly said I would have got a B, if I’d handed it in on time, so…” 

Your eyes widen, barely able to process the sight of him now. Eddie Munson, who just yelled across the room about your academic achievements, now looking anywhere but at you, scratching his face and shrugging like his own barely matter. You find his hand, squeeze it tight until he shows you his eyes.

“Eddie, that’s brilliant!” You say. He puffs out air like it means nothing to him, shakes his head. “When-” 

“You aren’t even listening, Eddie!” Dustin calls from the end of the table. Eddie rolls his eyes, but then he gestures ;azily for Dustin to continue, now with the gift of his attention. It’s enough for anyone to believe he finds the boy annoying at best, but you know from how Eddie talks about them that Dustin’s kind of his favourite. There’s a clear fondness in Eddie’s tone when he rants about Dustin trying to contribute ideas to his campaigns, the begrudging respect he has for how unapologetically himself the boy is. The touch of jealousy that creeps in when he talks about Dustin’s friendship with Steve Harrington, of all people. Badass, my ass, he mumbles each time.

You listen in comfortable silence to the conversation as it continues, occasionally contributing a little yes or no when Jeff asks you leading questions, your fondness for him ever increasing. Only when you watch Eddie retrieve a bag of pretzels from his backpack do you remember your own lunch, too taken in by the awe in Matthew’s voice recounting the first time he heard a Judas Priest song, apparently life changing.

You frown at the realisation that the half empty bag is all Eddie brought for himself, immediately offering your open tupperware and holding it steady under his shaking head until he acquiesces to tearing one half of your sandwich in two, chewing on the quarter in between his contributions to the conversation.

Your ears prick when you move on to tearing the segments from your satsuma, handing a half to Eddie without a word. Amongst the chatter, Mike laughs about Dustin’s current failing grade in Latin, an unusual outcome for him. Dustin sighs like an old man. 

“I ask you, how many tenses does one language need?” He groans. “I thought there’d be something we could use for a campaign, The Exorcist style, you know? Instead I’m trying to remember the difference between types of declensions. Or I will, when I fully grasp what declensions are.”

The conversation about Judas Priest you’d found yourself somewhat involved in fades with how much you’re focused on Dustin’s defeated tone. One part of you is screaming that you could help him, that he seems really worried about it and he’s a smart boy so it probably wouldn’t be much work to get him on the right track. Then another part, the one that screeches and wails its distress until your head hurts, asks, what if he says no? What if he laughs? What if they all do? 

You open your mouth, wondering if you should just say it across the table. Just offer; just do it. Of course he won’t say no. And if he does, he’s Eddie’s friend so it will be gentle. Still embarrassing though. Your mouth closes again, teeth digging grooves into the gum behind your lips. Just help him. You pull your sleeves down over your hands, playing with the soft ends. You clear your throat, take a breath-

“I’m good at Latin,” you say, immediately cringing at how that sounds. But you’re pleased when Jeff goes on chatting about the album he just bought, letting you contribute to the other conversation across the table freely. Dustin blinks at you owlishly. “I mean, I can help. Tutor you, or something? If you want.”

“Seriously!?” Dustin asks, flashing you a braced grin when you nod. “That would be amazing! Thanks!”

You smile, just sighing out your relief when you feel another nudge at your knee. Eddie’s watching you, eyebrows raised. You shrug shyly, grasping the sleeve of his jacket again to fiddle with the chains. He pulls free, but only to take hold of your hand instead. 

You’re basking in the feeling of knowing Eddie’s proud of you, your own pride in yourself, and you know you couldn’t force yourself back across the room today if you tried. 

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

You realised, walking alone to class, that you hadn’t spoken that much during lunch the entire time you’d been at highschool. Giggling at Lucas’ jokes, asking about their DnD characters, getting increasingly comfortable talking about metal with a group of people who are genuinely excited to hear about your introduction to the genre. By the end it felt almost natural; simple and fun to talk to an entire table of people.

But you’re feeling some of the effects of it now, even quieter than usual in Eddie’s van as Gareth considers whether to paint or sharpie the Corroded Coffin logo Eddie designed onto the front of his bass drum. 

From the soft hum you’d given in greeting as you climbed into the van after school, Eddie had offered you his palm, open and relaxed. Now, your forefinger traces the long groove from his wrist to the base of his thumb that forms his life line. You love Eddie’s hands, love how they feel in yours, and on every other part of you they’ve touched. 

You swallow, face suddenly hot. It’s been easier, nicer, every time Eddie’s touched you. So much so that you now understand why it’s all some people think about, all that drives them. The way Eddie feels inside you, all the words that spill from his mouth as he moves; how much he wants you, how good you make him feel. You find your mind circling back to it at the strangest times. In class, making dinner, driving home with Eddie’s friends-

You jump a little at the chorus of bye’s from the back, the sound of the doors being thrown open. Eddie’s already watching you curiously when you look back to him, unable to hold eye contact, half convinced he’ll be able to read your thoughts with one good look at you. “You okay, sweet thing?”

“M’just tired.”

“Right,” Eddie says, nodding thoughtfully. “The guys- they can be a little intense.”

Mirth spreads through you at the thought of Eddie ‘jumps on cafeteria tables’ Munson describing anyone as intense. “I like them.”

“You say that now. A week tutoring Dustin and you’ll be changing your name and moving to Idaho. I’ll never see you again, and it’ll be all that little punk’s fault.”

“He’s your favourite.”

Eddie’s tone goes from playful to offended in a second, as to close a screech as his deep voice can get. “He is not- I don’t even have- Even if I did have a favourite, which I don’t, Dustin Henderson would not even come close-” He pauses at the sound of your laugh, narrowing his eyes. “Mmh. I get it. Tired, but not too tired to rile me up.”

You chew the inside of your lip, fighting a smile. Running a finger along his palm again, you reply, “it’s not particularly difficult.” You expect another dramatic yell of offence, or maybe a laugh. Instead, you get something pleased from his expression, dimples on his cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing. I just like it when you tease me.” His fingers close around yours, weaving together. “S’like you’re more comfortable around me, I guess.” 

You’re sure he’s right. Every day it’s a little easier. Every time you see him, your mind gets in the way less and less, slowly coming to accept that he’s not waiting for you to say the wrong thing, that he won’t abandon you when you inevitably do. 

“You make me feel comfortable, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows raise, waiting for your quick nod. “Does that mean you’re coming back to mine?” 

“Actually,” you start, truly needing that comfort now. You know the implications of what you’re going to ask, sure that if somebody other than Eddie heard you, they’d come to conclusions about the kind of girl you are. 

The more time you spend with Eddie the less you’re sure that it matters if they would be right or wrong. 

You press your knees together, tap your fingers in a wave along Eddie’s knuckles. “Well, my parents aren’t home...”

There’s a second of silence, long enough to have you squirming, finding his dark eyes and then looking away again in a loop. 

Eddie leans into you, chin tilted to capture your gaze and keep you there. “You mean to say that the Princess’ tower is unguarded this night?” 

Your stomach squeezes at the sound of his voice, serious and soft, like a real adventurer on the verge of committing himself to a great quest. You love this about Eddie, how easily he can slip into characters like this. It’s something he learned from DnD, or maybe Eddie’s so good at the game because he has this ability to play at being somebody different without hesitation, without a hint of the worry you’d feel if you tried it, convinced you’d do it all wrong, sure you’d sound stupid. 

“No dragons for me to slay?” He asks, closing one eye like he’s trying to work out if you’re tricking him. Your head shakes, and Eddie turns your hand in his to bring it to his mouth. He kisses your knuckles, a soft warm press. “S'that what you want?”

“Yes, Eddie.” 

“Okay,” he says, lips meeting your hand once again. “To the castle, it is.”

Eddie is as quick as usual to drive you home, each turn forcing you to lean to the door or to the centre console. But any urgency seems to vanish the second he’s pulled up by your house. In the van, you wait as he makes sure he has his wallet and his keys, sets the sun visor back into position. When you've jumped out, you watch him check that he's locked each door of the van with more care than you've ever seen from him, like he's particularly worried about a carjacker on your suburban street in broad daylight. 

Inside, Eddie is careful about unlacing his shoes and placing them at the door next to yours, toed off your heels carelessly. Then, at the top of the stairs, when you think you finally have him at a regular pace towards your room, you are jolted back by his sudden stop on the landing, leaving your hands connected at the end of stretched arms. 

“‘M looking for anything I can use as a weapon, you know?” He says, peering into a vase of fake orchids, examining a glass seahorse statue, scrunching his nose when he gets hit with the scent from a bowl of potpourri. “This all feels a little too easy, and you’ve gotta expect the unexpected in situations like these.”

“Eddie?"

You’re so endeared to him, watching him examine the objects your Mom set out playing up to this story he’s created. But the way he’s stalling, almost hesitant, has you sure you missed a clear sign along the way. “Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you, like, not want to come here?” 

His head shoots up then, round eyes blinking. “Of course, I did. I do.” Eddie laughs airily, tucking some of his hair behind his ear as he approaches. “I’m a freak, okay? I’m not crazy.” 

You still feel like you’re missing something, wondering if you should offer him another way out. Eddie makes a sweeping gesture with his arm, inviting you to guide him forward. Walking slow to give him time to change his mind, you make your way to your door, decidedly not looking back at him when you enter.

Eddie is unusually quiet, then, following you in but stopping once again when he takes the first step onto your cream carpet. You only glance back at him when you’ve dropped his hand and started playing with your sleeves, comforted by the fact he just seems to be taking everything in. He stands out, all ragged denim and black leather in the pastel softness of your bedroom, and yet he fits so well in a room full of things you love. 

He shifts his weight back and forth on the soft carpet, subtly sniffs the air that must smell of you and the apple blossom diffuser on your side table. His eyes drift as he takes in each focal point; the desk laden with textbooks and paper, your windowsill, lined with a couple snow globes, a ceramic cat you’d painted as a child, a framed photo of you and your friends Heather gave you for your 16th. He scans quickly over the cork boards to the corner of the room, smile lines appearing at the sight of your long favourite stuffed animal, a soft grey elephant you’d carefully positioned on a pink cord beanbag, looking ready to start reading judging by the pile of books to her right.

His gaze eventually circles back to you, waiting nervously for his reaction. Eddie shifts back and forth on his feet. “You know, I, uh, gotta admit, I imagined some stained glass.” He gestures lazily to the window, then to your bed, the wooden frame and the blue floral bedspread. “And I was sure you’d have one of those beds with all the fabric, you know what I’m talking about?” He raises both hands to motion the shape of a canopy bed, fingers wiggling. 

“Disappointed?” You say, only half joking. 

Eddie finally takes a step further in, turning to the shelves of books by your bed. “Me? Nah I was worried about getting tangled up in it, to be honest.” He flashes you a quick grin before scanning over the spines. Eventually, he points to one. “Iron Maiden, yeah?”

You check the book he’s pointing to, The Complete Poems of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and nod, always pleased by the reminder that Eddie listens, really listens, when you speak. That he remembers so many innocuous things you share with him, things you’d never expect him to remember. 

You badly want to reach out for him then, fingers itching to hold his hand, play with his sleeves. You almost do, raising your arm a touch, but a wave of concern hits you, still trying to work out if you’ve done something, said something wrong to make him act like he’d rather not be here. 

Eddie catches your stunted movement, eyes blinking at your fidgeting hands before shifting to your face. You’re sure then that your anxiety is clear in your expression, that he sees how eagerly you’re waiting for him to give you an explanation for his hesitancy in the hallway.

Eddie frowns, looking at the books again. He clears his throat. "I've never been in a girls' room before," he tells you. From his voice, it sounds like a confession.

“Oh.” Your brows furrow, trying to work out how that matters. “I mean, they’re not all like this.”

"No, I mean, it’s just that it’s like, a first. For me.” When that doesn’t quite cover your confusion, he continues. “Nobody ever wanted, y'know, me in their room. Or whatever."

Your heart pangs with sudden understanding, the memory of Eddie lying across from you on a blanket, the warm sun on your skin. Am I being too intense? That's what Eddie had asked you, that day at the lake. People say I can be too much too soon. 

“And it’s already different, with you. Better. I mean, shit, a million times better,” he says, eyes wide. “But I still just didn’t expect you to, just, ask me, like- Like, you just want me here. Cause it’s never been that simple. Shit. I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

“No. No, Eddie,”

“I didn’t wanna make you worried or anything. It’s the complete last thing I’d ever want. I guess I was kinda just waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He laughs again, but it’s hollow, and cuts off too suddenly to be real. 

You give in entirely, practically launching at him to wrap your arms around his torso and pull him into a tight, desperate hug. You wish, not for the first time, that you were more like him, better at getting your thoughts into words and saying them.Then you could soothe him like he deserves. Then you could tell him the truth. 

Eddie’s face presses to your hair, arms tight around your shoulders. 

“Eddie,” you murmur into his shoulder, squeezing him again before you build the courage to look him in the eyes. “You’re so-” Your throat tightens, forcing you to whisper. “You’re so good.” It seems lacklustre, probably a million better words to describe all that Eddie is, but it feels right; it’s what you think, that Eddie is, deep at his core, so good that it hurts. “You’re too good, too good for anyone that made you think-” Your voice cracks, and Eddie blinks shining eyes at you when you reach up to stroke his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, pressing his face to your palm. “I’m okay. Really.”

You press your lips to his, hoping he understands this at least. You feel his smile, and believe that he does. He hums as you shift your kisses to the corner of his mouth, his cheeks. You peck the end of his nose, watch it scrunch sweetly. You’re warmed by the sight of his reddening face, the sound of his laugh. “You know how to make a guy feel appreciated, sweetheart.”

Your hands seem incapable of moving from him, only moving from his cheek to his shoulders, wrists tickled by the fluffy ends of his curls. “I want you here,” you say, a little strained. “I promise.”

“I know. I know you do.”

“I would have invited you earlier,” you continue. “It’s just…”

Eddie’s eyes flash. His hands, big and warm, rub up and down your back, pulling you closer to him until you’re flush against his chest. “It’s just, we couldn’t have done what you want to do,” he finishes. “Not with your parents downstairs. That’s right, isn’t it?”

Your stomach twists with that exciting shame, face hot. You don’t have anywhere to hide, caught by Eddie’s gaze. You still can’t look into his eyes for too long, lest your heart beat out your chest, so you find yourself staring at his lips, pillowy and pink. “Not just that.”

“Okay,” he answers, hand drifting down to skim the end of your skirt. You press closer to him when his fingers tease the soft skin of your thighs, and he breathes a laugh. “But, mainly that, huh?” 

Your fingers curl into his shoulders, embarrassed and excited in equal measure that he’s naming your intentions so clearly. You bounce a little on your toes, still gazing at Eddie’s lips, the dents of his laugh lines and his dimples.

Callused fingers reaching under your skirt, his thumb grazing the cotton of your panties, pulling at the elastic. You think you’re being subtle, the way you open your legs a little to make space for him, but know immediately that you failed when Eddie laughs, eyes crinkled at the sides. He breathes a sigh, watching you lose the last pretence that you aren’t a little desperate for him to touch you how he wants. “My good girl.”

Oh, but that makes you ache for him. Your head drops to his neck, hiding your face in his skin. You breathe him in, smoke and Eddie, swallowing a whimper.

“You like that, don't you? Like being a good girl.”

You nod on impulse, willing to agree to just about anything when his fingers drag over your mound, press to the split of your pussy through your panties, the material just grazing your clit. But something about what he's said isn't quite right, and you start shaking your head instead.

Eddie's mouth finds your ear, warm breath teasing the sensitive skin at the top of your neck. "No? Not a good girl?" 

You shake your head again, because that's not right either. You tilt your face to catch his gaze, ink dark eyes already waiting for you. "I like-" You sigh when his fingers catch at the fabric that sits at the top of your sex again, giving a single teasing circle that helps you relax enough to tell him the truth of it. “It’s for you, Eddie.”

"Ah," Eddie breathes, finally, finally dipping his fingers past the elastic of your panties. He hums his approval when he finds your clit, swollen and waiting for him. He gives you one tap just to see you pout, then he’s rubbing tight circles that have you trying to press even closer to him, nails digging into his shoulders. “My good girl, mm?" 

"Yeah," you nod desperately, proud to see how pleased he looks with you. "Yes, Eddie." 

"That's right." He continues, watching your face as your lips open to moan softly, eyelids flickering. His fingers dip quickly to your entrance, dragging slick up to ease the way for his fingers on your button. “Just for me. Cause I'm the one who gets to touch you," he says. "Only I get to hear you like this, yeah? Hear you begging me with that pretty voice?" 

"Only you. Please, Eddie." 

“S’cause you know I’m gonna take care of you, don’t you, sweet thing? You and this pretty pussy?”

Eddie's fingers keep rubbing at your clit, pulling sensations from your body that only he ever has. Staring at him, hearing his rough voice even as he looks at you like you’re precious, you feel it again, as you have with increasing frequency. How badly you want him like this and every other way. It almost overwhelms you, makes you want to hide away again in his shoulder. But Eddie is owed the sight of the pleasure he brings you, deserves to see it play out on your face, hear every whimper clearly. Eddie coos softly at the sight of you, his free hand coming to support the back of your neck, nodding you through each shaking breath. “That’s it. That’s it. You gonna cum?”

A tremble moves through your body, hips rolling against his hand as you groan into the air. The high builds to a long, half painful peak, your hands grasping at Eddie’s t-shirt, his hair, first for something to hold on to, then because the resulting groan has your cunt clenching around nothing. It crosses over into too much suddenly, twitching away from his hand between your legs even as you give in and throw your face to his neck, kissing your gratitude all over the pale column of his throat. You find his pulse, feel its steady beat under your lips, and bite. It’s little more than a scrape of your teeth, but Eddie shudders in your arms, tilting his head back to let you soothe the bruised skin with your tongue, then kisses. 

You sigh deep, relaxing your death grip on his body while Eddie kisses at your sweaty temple. You peek at him then, find the warm brown of his irises swallowed up by darkness, his tongue licking quick over his bitten dark lips. He pulls his hand from your panties, showing you the remnants of your slick on his fingers before licking at his ring finger. “Always taste so good, baby. Wanna try?”

“Uh huh,” you say, head fuzzy with pleasure. Your mouth drops open for him, letting him press his middle finger to your tongue. You close your lips around it, sucking gently. You don’t think it tastes of much at all, but Eddie seems suddenly desperate to get at what he’s given you. He drags his finger from your mouth and captures your lips before you’ve even registered the loss, his tongue licking at yours like he can steal the taste of you back. “That what you were thinking of when you invited me up here, mm?” He says when he breaks away, lips still grazing yours as he speaks. “Or do you want more?”

You do want more. You want Eddie. Want him filling you with the length you can feel, hardening against your thigh. You want to make him feel good, want to hear him groan when he cums. “More, Eddie,” you whisper without shame. “Please.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, leaning in for another desperate kiss, taking advantage of your pliant state to open your mouth to him. “Fuck. I wanna bend you over so bad,” he admits, watching your face for your reaction. “You want that? Want me to fuck you like that in your pretty princess bed?” 

Your toes curl, clit throbbing at the playful tone of Eddie’s voice, teasing and rough. “Mm. Okay.”

Eddie tilts his head, meeting your eyes, checking in. “Okay?”

You try to picture it, imagine how Eddie will feel fucking you that way. In truth, you’re stuck  on how vulnerable you’ll be; exposed, not able to see him or cling to him the way you like. But it’s Eddie, you assure yourself. You take a breath. “I want that, Eddie.” 

The kiss that follows is sweet. It’s a comforting reminder that no matter how much Eddie teases you, how rough he gets, he's still the boy who calls you princess, holds your hand in the car, promises to take care of you. 

He helps you remove your shirt from your heated skin, pulls his own over his head the second you start tugging at the hem. Once you have access to his skin, you can't stop touching him, palms flat to his chest, kissing his neck while he pulls your panties down over your hips. 

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he murmurs, turning you to face your bed. He kisses your shoulder, his body warm at your back. "Climb up for me, mm?"

You want to do what he says. You want him to touch you like this. But you still feel a prickle of nerves as you crawl up to your pillow, body exposed and missing Eddie’s skin already. 

“So pretty,” Eddie says above you, behind you, as you rest your chin on your curled arms on top of the mattress. You hear the clink of his belt, toes curling at the sound. Then you feel him through his boxers, hard and hot as he rolls his hips against your ass. You hear him whisper, shit, say something about protection. It's followed by a far off, satisfied a-ha at locating a condom in his discarded jacket, but it’s fuzzy beneath the sudden rushing in your ears. 

You feel him again, grinding against you, and you're not sure where all the excitement went. You’re staring at the blue cornflowers on your pillowcase while he continues behind you, remembering the last time you were positioned like this, tense and vulnerable. You try to breathe slow. When that doesn’t work, you try to let the heavy throb between your legs remind you how badly you want this.

It doesn't work, and you focus instead on feeling of just having to lie like this, get through it for him, just stare at the flowers and don't cry and he’ll be finished soon-

The pressure behind you disappears, the mattress shifts under you. Eddie bounces when he flops down beside you, face level with yours and hidden behind his flying hair. He makes soft puh noises like he’s trying to spit it out, blowing it away from his face. You blink, the white noise in your ears fading when you touch him, tucking his hair back behind his ear to find his grateful smile. 

“Thanks, baby,” he says. He reaches for your hip, rubbing soft as he presses your arched body down until you're lying, flat to the bed. Then, all heartbreaking gentleness; “where’d you go?”

You stumble, embarrassed. “I, I didn’t-”

“Stopped making those pretty noises for me," he reasons. “Isn't any fun without 'em." Your bottom lip shakes, and you feel like an idiot. 

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Not Andy, not some boy here for himself, only to take and never give. 

"Hey," he says, shuffling in until he can bump your nose with his. "We don’t have to do it like this if you don’t want. You know that, right? Don't have to do anything you don't want.”

“It’s not that, I-” You sigh, watch Eddie’s shining eyes, round and soft, waiting for you. “I needed to know it was you. I’m sorry.”

Recognition registers in his face. He frowns, cupping your face in his palm. “No apologies. Not about what you need, okay?”

“Okay, Eddie.”

“Wanna cuddle?” 

You do. Desperately. You reach out for him easily, shuffling until you're surrounded by him, clinging to his torso, cheek to his chest.

"Ah," Eddie breathes, wiggling like he can get his skin any closer to yours. "That's the good stuff." 

You hadn’t realised how fast, how hard your heart was beating until you’re settled in Eddie’s arms and it starts to slow. There's a minute’s comfortable silence, letting his presence ease you back to comfort. Then he hums, strokes at the hair on your temple. "You gotta tell me when something's not right, ‘kay?" he says seriously. "I like to think I can read you pretty well, but I could've missed it." 

"I'm sorry," you say, then, remembering you just agreed not to do that, "sorry."

Eddie breathes a laugh through his nose, leaves a wet kiss on your forehead. "My shy girl, mm?"

"Sometimes it's just…hard to say what I'm feeling. I didn't want you to stop.” You hum. “I don't think I did."

Eddie considers that, still stroking at your hair. "Do you, uh, know what a safe word is?” You shake your head, and he continues. “S’kinda like a code. Something you can just say if you wanna press pause, you know? Means that instead of getting in that head of yours, trying to work out what you want, you can just say a word and we’ll talk about it, yeah?”

You consider it, imagining the scene if you'd been able to just say one thing and slow down. Easier not to have to think through what you need before you tell him, just say one word and let Eddie help you get there, coax from your head what you haven't worked out yourself. "That sounds good, Eddie." 

"Yeah?" He asks, eyebrows raising. “Okay. We can keep it simple for now. If we wanna stop completely, for any reason, we say red, yeah? If we need to slow down, talk a little about what we need, we say yellow. And green for keep going. How’s that sound?"

"Good," you say, feeling grateful that you’re learning all these things with Eddie. "It sounds good, but I- I am sorry that I'm, y'know. Difficult, sometimes."

Eddie blinks, eyebrows pulling together. "Difficult? My sweet girl? Nah. Besides," he leans in, closing one eye. "I like looking after you." 

You sigh happily when he kisses you, gentle and seeking nothing more than sweet presses. But you're still wet and wanting, hand rubbing across the softness of Eddie's tummy until your fingers draw across the sparse hair at the top of his pants. Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat that has you pressing your thighs together. 

"You wanna turn over, mm? Open those pretty legs for me?”

Yes. You love having Eddie on top of you and inside you. Better every time, as your body gets used to him, as Eddie learns how to draw pleasure from you, as you learn what makes Eddie gasp, makes his hips move desperately like you're the only thing he needs. 

But you pause. Now, comfortable in the knowledge that you know how to slow down, stop when you need to, you let yourself imagine Eddie behind you. His hips hitting the back of your thighs, his big hands holding your waist, arching your body just right to slide inside. Letting yourself be vulnerable with Eddie, the feeling of offering yourself up to him, the reward of his touch.

“I want to try, I just, I need-” You don’t know, exactly. You feel another wave of irritation at yourself, wishing you could be a little more simple. That you didn't need to cling to him that first time, that now you need him to work out this hurdle. 

Eddie hums, and the mattress shifts again as he sits up behind you. “Lift these hips for me again, sweet thing?” He asks, helping you shift your knees forward, tilting your body up for him. You hear the crinkle of him tearing open a condom, his soft sigh as he rolls it down over his cock. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs, hands smoothing your skirt up, exposing your hot flesh to the air. You shiver up your spine, but when Eddie grinds against you, what follows is his torso stretched along your back until you can feel him pressing wet kisses to your shoulder. The tension falls away, replaced by the tickle of Eddie’s hair at your neck, his sweet sting of his teeth nipping your shoulder, the sound of his pleased hums.

A final touch, his left hand grabs yours on the mattress, linking your fingers up and resting them in your eyeline. You know Eddie’s hands better than you know your own. Thick fingers adorned with a pig, a cross, a skull; all pale skin but for the subtle pink at his knuckles and around his nails. The veins that run from the end of his fingers to his wrist, the dip at the end of his thumb. 

“Better?” Eddie asks. You hum happily. You’re so blissfully wrapped up in him like this, surrounded and safe. Eddie’s right hand teases your clit again, presses gently at your entrance and finds you still went and wanting, bearing down at the first dip of his digits inside you. “Fuck, don’t worry, sweet thing. Gonna give you what you need, mm?”

“Eddie,” you say, his name a gentle plea.

“I know,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his. He reaches between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance, the head of his cock tapping torturously at your clit. You have half a mind to kick your legs out in impatience now, settle on whining at the back of your throat. Eddie breathes a laugh into your shoulder, but it shifts immediately to a groan as he presses inside. 

You’re still not entirely used to the feeling of him slowly filling you, the edge of pain still leading you to bear down on him, body stuck between desperations; to force him out or or pull him deeper. But then there’s the perfect ache of feeling full, the warmth and heaviness of him inside. 

Eddie’s hips roll, the wet sound of him pulling from you making your toes curl. He starts up a steady pace, easing your body into letting him slide deeper into your cunt with each thrust. His fingers return to the top of your sex, rubbing at your sensitive button. With every slow thrust, each stroke of your twitching clit, it feels like your body is opening up to him, easing the way for him to press deeper, push inside a little rougher. Your body flinches, tightens and loosens up all over when the end of his cock finds the back of your pussy, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. 

“Feel good?” He says, amusement in his tone. You moan freely, happy to be teased by him as long as he keeps touching you. “Tell me.”

“Feels good,” you parrot, staring at Eddie’s hand in yours, the slow movement of rose tone up his wrist, along to his knuckles as he heats up. You shiver to let in his warmth, his breath on your shoulder, his chest at your back. His cock, hot and thick, fucking you open.

“My good girl,” he murmurs, groaning at the way your cunt clamps down, gushing wet around his thick cock in thanks for his praise. “Christ. I shoulda known that was your favourite,” he breathes, his right hand pressing at your mound to angle your hips just so, helping his cock find the spot at the end of you that makes your thighs shake with every heavy push. “S’mine too.” 

His lips travel up the side of your neck to the top of your cheek, eyes finding yours when you turn to him. Eddie gives you a gentle pout at the sight of your mouth open to take gasping, whimpering breaths, your eyes fluttering when he starts to bully your clit in line with the increasingly harsh movements inside you. “You were fucking made for me,” he tells you. “You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You cry out, arms giving way underneath you when your body twitches all over, squeezing tight around Eddie’s invading cock. Your head drops into the mattress next to your joined hands, but you nod desperately, wanting him to see that you know perfectly well. That nobody could make you feel as good as Eddie does.

Eddie keeps your body angled how he wants, adjusting your hips to pull your back into an arch. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to look after, mine to touch. Mine to fuck-” He gives you a harsh thrust that makes your thighs twitch, legs close to giving out if he wasn’t holding you up with his arm under your stomach. “I wanna feel you cum, yeah? Think you can?” 

You’re still nodding, hand gripping his tight, fingers curled through his. 

“For me? Just for me?”

Always. Only for Eddie. You can’t say it, mind too far away to form the thought properly, but the feeling of him saying it like that, claiming your pleasure for himself as he drags it out of you with his cock, heavy and hot, and his hand playing with your clit, drives you over the edge. You mewl into the mattress, cunt clenching tight around his throbbing cock as your pleasure peaks.

Eddie makes a soft whimpering sound as you cum, following you down to bury his face in your shoulder. His hips move faster as he starts chasing his pleasure instead of focusing on yours, hand that was teasing your clit now stroking at your hip to soothe your sensitive, twitchy body. 

Hearing him now, gasping breaths, whimpers in your ear, you sink happily into this feeling. Almost as good as reaching your own peak, the knowledge that you’re making Eddie feel good. That this boy who treats you so well, dedicates himself to helping you find your pleasure, loses himself a little at the clench of your cunt around him.

You drag your clasped hands to your mouth, kissing at the pink skin of his knuckles. How could anybody not want this with him? How could anybody have given him up? You feel a sudden, desperate possession of him, the need to claim him like he claimed you.

“Mine,” you murmur, pressing your lips to the back of his hand in an array of gentle kisses. Your other hand reaches back to tangle in his hair, scratch at the back of his head as he whimpers. You crane your neck, searching for his eyes. They’re dark, shining as they take you in. His cock twitches inside you, and you squeeze his hand again. “Mine?”

His bottom lip shakes. “Yeah. M'yours. Yours, fuck-” He captures your lips but the kiss ends quick when he groans, hips stuttering in your warmth then sinking deep. You keep scratching at his neck as his body shakes through his orgasm, and still after when his weight drops on you and you fall flat to the bed together. You lie there for minutes, catching your breath, luxuriating in the feeling of being held by Eddie, pussy still clenching weakly around him.

Eddie hums, pulling from you slowly with another wet sound that makes you bury your face in your pillow. He rubs at your hip gently, squeezes your hand a final time before untangling from you to deal with the condom. You make a mental note to do something with that before tomorrow morning, but Eddie has your mind going wonderfully blank again when he bounces back beside you and pulls you in. You’re both a little sweaty, cheek a touch too hot against his chest, but you have no interest in cooling down if it means you have to stop touching him.

“Good?” He asks, fingers rubbing at your temple. You hum a long content sound in answer, not ready to form any coherent thought yet, and feel Eddie’s chest shake with laughter under your cheek. “Good.”

You lay like that, clammy and pleasured, convinced nothing could drag you from this bed.  Until you feel a quick pang in your stomach, and the quiet reverie is interrupted by a deep rumble. There’s a moment of silence, then Eddie snorts underneath you. You’d be embarrassed if his laugh didn’t make you want to follow his happiness, smiling shyly when he rubs gently at your tummy. “Hungry work, huh?” He asks, giggling. “Never fear, sweet thing. I can fix that.” He pauses then, licks his lips quickly. “Hey, you got a box of mac and cheese sitting around here, somewhere?”

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

You flinch, watching with increasing horror as Eddie’s attempts to chop the onion you’d handed him. Fingers splayed and terrifyingly close the blade, you’re stuck between gently taking the knife from him and asking point blank how he’s managed to keep all ten fingers intact this long. 

“Do you want me to finish that?” You ask, frowning when he shakes his head, still fully concentrated on each dangerous movement, his tongue just poking out of his lips in a physical demonstration of his focus. 

If you weren’t so terrified, you’d be appreciating how soft and comfy Eddie looks right now. Black Sabbath t-shirt tucked into his jeans, socked feet ready to slide along your kitchen floor. His dark curls pulled back from his face and braided by your own hands, tied at the end with your favourite lilac scrunchie that you kind of hope he’ll keep.

But you can’t think about it, because you’re terrified Eddie’s going to ruin his musical career here in your kitchen, making pasta.

“No, need, sweet thing,” he assures. “This is a patented Munson technique for chopping onions.”

You could curse yourself for not having any boxed mac and cheese, for suggesting you cook something from scratch together in the first place. You’re used to cooking, with your Mom and Dad, with your friends, and eventually for yourself. But you get the sense that Eddie does a lot of microwaving, looking after himself the same way he has since he was a kid, at dinner time when Wayne is working nights.

“Eddie, can I?” You gently take the knife from him, turning the half of the onion left and chopping it with your thumb tucked in. 

He tilts his chin. “Lacks the adrenaline rush that comes with the Munson method,” he says when you’re done, watching you tip the contents of the chopping board into the heated pan on the stove. Then, a little sheepishly, “I, uh, I don’t cook much. If that wasn’t obvious.”

“You don’t like it, or?”

“I like this,” he answers. “And I make breakfast sometimes with Wayne. But not dinner, so much. He’s usually at the plant that time of day, so nobody ever taught me, I guess.” He pauses. “That’s not true. My mom and I used to cook, I think. Sometimes.”

You wait for a couple of seconds, watching the onions and garlic soften. “When you were a kid?”

“Yeah, we’d make stuff like this. Or, she would. I think I’d just watch mostly. Stir stuff, lick the spoon.”

“Best part,” you say, smiling. Then, watching him carefully. “Your Mom, she…?”

“She died,” he finishes with a shrug. He taps at the counter with his knuckles. “Then I lived with my old man, and he was not one for cooking lessons,” he laughs derisively. “Then one day the bastard dropped me off at Wayne’s. Best thing he ever did for me. Not that he cared either way, he was just sick of having me around.” Eddie finally looks at you then, and catches something in your expression that makes him wince, the laughter that follows clearly forced. “Christ, sorry. I’m really dumping on you today.”

“Don’t apologise, Eddie.”

“Nah, I shouldn’t have-” He shakes his head, tapping the counter again before resting his palms at the edge. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Eddie, of course it matters,” you say, turning off the stove to approach him, standing separated from his body by his arm reaching to the counter, keeping you from wrapping around him the way you want to. “Of course it matters.” 

Eddie shrugs again, and it’s another one of those moments where you wish you were more like him. Eddie always knows what to say, senses where you’re hurt and how to soothe it, knows when to talk and when to just hold you. 

But now that it’s your turn, you’re left feeling useless, stuck just wanting to cry at the thought that anyone has ever hurt him, made him feel like he has something to apologise for just for being around.

“I think you’re so wonderful, Eddie,” you say. “I want you around all the time.”

There’s a second of something. He turns to meet your gaze, searching your face with a frown. Then he gives you a small, barely there smile. The arm between you raises to let you close, wrap him up in a tight hug. You feel his body lose tension as he sighs, your hand stroking his back the way you know he likes. “I want you around all the time, too, sweet thing,” he says softly. “I really do.”

Next Chapter

[beomcoups]

Now that’s 90′s- A Seventeen Collab

Hosted by @beomcoups​ and @mingsolo​​

Drive in theaters... mall hopping on the weekends... confessing your watching TRL and Daria on MTV. The 90s were all about being fresh, nostalgic and keeping it real. Who better to star in this 90′s collab other than SVT?  Below are the authors that are going to be taking us through the decade, one Seventeen boy at a time. 

S. Coups

→ Cry-Baby by @duhnova

→ pairing: biker!choi seungcheol x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, angst, opposites attract, drama, kind of college au, smut

→ summary: decked out in leather and riding a harley davidson like he’s got business with the devil, choi seungcheol was the talk of your small town. everyone looked down on him and when you come home for the first time since starting uni you find it hard to believe that the pouty lipped kid you tossed off the merry-go-round when you were six was some slick haired delinquent. → rating: 18+

Jeonghan

→ [he Emperor and I] by @flurrys-creativity

→ pairing: emperor!Jeonghan x Reader

→ genre:  royal au, the king and I 1999 animation au, s2l, romance, fluff, humour, angst, eventual smut

→ summary: You travel as a teacher to Caratland on the request of emperor Jeonghan. Though the emperor wasn't what you expected, neither was your stay in the foreign land. Especially with Jeonghan using every chance he got to tease you. 

→ rating: 18+

Joshua

→ [Stop, Kiss] by @hobeemin

→ pairing: joshua hong x poc!(f) reader

→ genre: romance, angst, drama, fluff, college au, 90s au (based on Can’t Hardly Wait)

→ summary: joshua wasn’t what you called popular back in high school, in fact, he was practically invisible. what happens when he runs into his childhood crush in college after growing into his looks? awhole lot of shenanigans ensue.

→ rating: 18+

Jun

→ Ugh! As If!  by @ wongyuseokie ​ → pairing: College Student Junhui x Female Reader

→ genre: established relationship, pwp, fluff, smut

→ summary: Your boyfriend decided to take you into a drive-in movie for date night, only problem? He looks scrumptious, and now your task is to make sure he knows just how good he looks, without the others knowing.

→ rating: 18+ 

Hoshi

→ [Caller #17] by @beomcoups​​

→ pairing: jock!Hoshi x college radio dj!reader (femme)

→ genre: 90’s au. strangers to lovers au, fluff, angst,

→ summary: You could name 10 things that you hate about him easily. But when you bond together over music, those things slowly turn into love instead.

→ rating: 18+

Wonwoo

→ [PAUSE + PLAY] by @mingsolo​​

→ pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

→ genre: 90s au, fluff, humor

→ summary: Your new job at the VHS store starts to get interesting when a handsome young man comes to the counter with a bunch of interesting picks.

→ rating: nc17

Woozi

→ You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) by @wooahaeproductions​

→ pairing: Lee Jihoon x Female Reader

→ genre: angst, fluff, smut

→ summary: You and your neighbor, Jihoon used to be best friends as kids. As time passed, unfortunate events and the cliques of junior high tore the two of you apart. Several years later, you find yourselves in the same college but the two of you actively avoid each other and some people would even say you were enemies. As fate would have it, breakups lead you both to wonder if there's ever a chance to rekindle the friendship.

→ rating: 18+ read here

DK

→ 60 Billion by @onlyseokmins pt. 1 pt. 2​

→ pairing: Lee Seokmin x Female Reader

→ genre: smut, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, enemies to comrades to lovers!au, angst, fluff

→ summary:  How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

→ rating: 18+

Mingyu

→ Hot Wheels by @milfgyuu​

→ pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader

→ genre: 90's AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

→ summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare. 

→ rating: 18+

Minghao

→ BREAK AND RETURN by @cheolism

→ pairing: brother's-bandmate!minghao x f!reader

→ genre: 90s au, smut, fwb/fucking your brother's friend 

→ summary: last week minghao did what he thought was best and put an end to your fling. he sees you again before band practice and can't help but give in to his desires.

→ rating: 18+

Seungkwan

→ once upon a summer by @the-boy-meets-evil​

→ pairing: Seungkwan x fem!reader

→ genre: 90s!au, summer love | fluff and some angst

→ summary: Every summer kind of goes the same. The population of your usually sleepy beach town doubles and you bust your ass to make enough money to last through the slow season. But a new face blows into town like a whirlwind and he’s determined to catch your eye. Only one problem: he’s here for the summer and you’re married to this town. 

→ rating:18+

Vernon

→ Natsukashii by @flurrys-creativity​

→ pairing: Vernon x Reader (probably fem)

→ genre: Jurassic Park AU, 90s AU, acquaintances to lovers/distant friends to lovers, Fluff, Angst

→ summary: It should have been a fun weekend trip but after the boat got caught by a storm and crashed on one of the dinosaur islands, you got separated from the group. You nearly despaired until Vernon found you.

→ rating: sfw and 15+

Dino

→ Four Page Letter by @shuadotcom​​

→ pairing: Lee Chan x Fem!Reader

→ genre: Fluff, smut, mild angst

→ summary:  Chan has always been just one of your step-brother’s best friends. He’s also been in love with you for as long as everyone remembers, but you never paid him much mind - that is until you decide to return home after many years away and you see the man he’s become. He goes from being your little brother’s best friend to being the perfect man for you in a matter of months. Now the questions are who wants who more and will either of you do anything about your feelings?

→ rating: 18+

[eksvaized]

let's play a game

one-shot

John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

word count: 1251

You should’ve known better than to make a bet with MacTavish; your refusal to back down from a challenge made you an easy target for him - he knew just what to say and how to lure you into joining yet another one of his silly games.

The barracks were empty as you crept down the hallway, keeping your side glued to the wall, and trying to avoid bumping into closed doors. The constant need to check over your shoulder every few seconds revealed the overwhelming sense of being stalked, which engulfed your body, making your heart race with unease.

Despite your awareness that no actual harm awaited you, the sight of MacTavish chasing you induced a torrent of sweat and sent adrenaline coursing through your veins. The sound of pounding footsteps echoed in your ears, intensifying the palpable sense of urgency.

You could hear MacTavish’s voice taunting you, and you knew he was near. But you couldn't see him, and the knowledge that he could be anywhere heightened your anxiety, making you feel like helpless prey in the clutches of a relentless hunter.

Your goal was to elude him for thirty minutes. So you and he were playing catch because you didn’t want to agree that he was faster than you.

But now it has become clear that outrunning him was impossible, forcing you to shift your strategy and rely on hiding as your best chance for success. But you couldn’t locate any good hiding spots, so you were still aimlessly roaming around the empty hallways, attempting to drag out the time till it ran out.

“You can’t hide from me, lass.” You could tell by the tone of his voice, and despite not seeing him, he had the biggest smirk plastered across his face.

He continued speaking, his voice then getting louder, making you realise he was about to corner you. “I can smell that sweet perfume of yours… makes it easy for me to track you.”

The footsteps reverberated at the end of the hallway, heavy boots stomping against the tiles. You should have turned around and run, but your body froze and you couldn’t move your feet. Your eyes widened, your pupils dilated, and you sucked in a sharp breath, desperate to remain unnoticed by not making a single sound.

Still, choosing to stay put wasn't a viable solution since he would eventually detect your presence, and opting to run away wasn't a practical choice either since he would ultimately catch you.

You cautiously retraced your steps, each movement deliberate and noiseless. Your eyes remained fixed on the dimly lit corridor ahead, straining to detect any signs of MacTavish. Pressed against the cool wall, you could feel its rough texture against your side as you inched backwards. Nervously, your fingers clutched the fabric of your shirt, the material bunching tightly in your grip.

You were doing a great job of being invisible and not making a sound until you stumbled over your feet and crashed into a door.

“Fuck.” You murmured and straightened your back, your heart sinking to your knees.

“Ahh, here you are.” MacTavish said and your eyes widened when he stopped at the end of the hallway, revealing himself.

He folded his arms over his chest, creating a slight rustle of fabric. Tilting his head to the side, he revealed a mischievous smirk that slowly spread across his face. His eyes, intense and focused, locked onto you, piercing through the air with a silent challenge, daring you to run.

“The game is not over.” You pointed out, trying to stand straight and not tremble, hoping your appearance didn’t reveal how nervous you were on the inside.

A tangible tension had settled, ready to burst, but nothing appeared to happen, and you and he entered a long stare-off, standing at opposite ends of the hallway, watching each other, waiting to see who would dare to make the first move.

You expected him to chase after you, but he stood still, as if attempting to taunt you, wanting to prove that even with a head start, you can’t outrun him.

“We have ten more minutes, but I plan to be done with the game… and finish with you.. in the next five.” His arms fell back to his sides as he clicked his tongue. His blue eyes darkened, and his smirk became bigger. He took one step forward, his tongue running across his lips. “I give you three seconds before I…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence since you had already turned around and started running, not daring to waste a second, knowing that you would need all the time you could get to get him off your tail.

You heard him chuckle, then a three-second countdown and boots thumping down the hallway as he chased you down.

Your heart raced as you pushed yourself to your limits, running, gasping for breath, and feeling the strain in every muscle.

You made your way through the never-ending maze of hallways. Each time you turned, your boots slipped over the tiles, making you slide and wobble.

You had to come to a halt eventually, but when you looked over your shoulder, you saw MacTavish wasn’t behind you.

You kept looking around, the hushed sounds of your breathing echoing in the silence.

He was gone.

You exhaled in relief. A little more and this game will be over.

Two arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards, making a loud scream elude you, as your back collided with something solid. You were panicking for a moment, but when MacTavish’s laugh reached your ears, you calmed down and stopped trashing in his embrace.

“I told you.. can’t hide from me.” He whispered, pressing your body closer to his.

Your lips parted, but you said nothing.

You despised losing, and you hated letting him win even more, but you didn’t have time to dwell on your defeat because you were too distracted by him and being trapped in his arms.

While his one arm held you close, his hand moved upwards, coming to rest just above your heart, where he could feel its strong, rhythmic beats.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, his voice still merely a whisper. The moment his fingers grazed your shirt, it felt as if they were leaving behind a trail of heat, slowly burning through the fabric.

“You didn’t scare me.” You replied, but only because you had a bad habit of wanting to always disagree with him.

He laughed again, his laugh reverberating in his chest, making goosebumps run down your body.

With fear gone, your attention shifted to MacTavish's presence, his body glued to yours, and the undeniable sensation of something hard pressing against your backside.

His fingertips trailed down your arms, causing you to lean on him more.

“Since I won…” He dipped his head when his fingers curled around your hips. “What’s going to be my prize?”

Your tongue ran across your bottom lip as you shrugged. You were glad that you weren’t facing him, because you were blushing and your chest was flushed.

“Whatever you want it to be.” “Whatever I want, hm?” His breath caressed your skin, making you squirm.

You didn’t push him away.

“Yes.” You nodded your head before looking over your shoulder when you felt the redness in your cheeks cool off. “What do you want?”

His intense gaze held yours, and he leaned in, his nose nearly touching yours, creating a tingling sensation in the air.

“I want you.”

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

I was hoping you could do Secondo with a s/o who is kinda clingy and talks a lot, but he finds out it’s cause they are constantly talked over and left out of stuff

Secondo being the supportive partner we need and deserve tbh. I made the friend group in this one sound... kinda not nice?? Not bullies or anything like that, but more the kind of friends I've had experience with that I wouldn't want others to have to go through bc it makes you feel like you're invisible

It's something that he finds out pretty quickly after hanging out with you and your friends for the first time

Secondo is incredibly perceptive after all

You'd introduced him to your friend group because yall were gonna go out for a night on the town as it were

It all seemed normal at first. He had no reason to think anything was wrong

You'd always been clingy and very chatty with him, so you clinging to him wasn't out of the ordinary for him and it's something he appreciates in a partner after being used by so many for his power and influence

When you cling to him, it's because you adore him as a person and you have no ulterior motives

What first makes Secondo realise the way you get treated in your friend group is how un-chatty you become in comparison to when it's you and him

And how unphased by this your friends are as they carry on their conversations and having their drinks as if you're not even there

It becomes clear to him when you try to pipe up and everyone talks over you and ignores you mid-conversation that perhaps the reason you don't talk is because they don't let you

After that night, he vows to himself to observe how you are with them in other settings in case it was just a one off

Turns out that no, it was not a one off

You almost shrink in on yourself when you're with your friends and he fucking hates it

So he does the one thing he thinks to do before anything else: he inserts himself in conversations

If he thinks you've got something to say, he'll interject and state his opinion then ask you what you think in a way that makes it very obvious that he wants to hear your opinion and not anyone else's

When someone talks over you, he pointedly clears his throat and then gestures for you to speak up

If they continue to ignore you and talk over you, that's when he starts getting angry

He will call out every single one of your friends for their treatment of you and how much of a polar opposite you are with him in comparison to them

And when he finds out that they've been purposely leaving you out of hang outs and activities?

They will live to regret that

He will give them a dressing down and demand that they treat you far better or stop stringing you along because it's not fair for you to be made to feel so invisible by people who are meant to care about you and value you as a human being

He's your biggest supporter. He fights in your corner. He advocates for you, your opinions, your thoughts, who you are as a person

And he makes it abundantly clear that they need to take a good long look at themselves if they've been deliberately leaving you out and talking over you

Secondo will apologise in private for letting his temper go like that because he doesn't want to make life hard for you

But fuck, he can't watch you become this quiet mouse of a person because of their behaviour and treatment of you when he's seen how chatty and wonderful you are

He jokes that "nobody puts my baby in the corner" and will put music from Dirty Dancing on to get you giggling while he tries to get you to dance with him

If you do stay friends with them and they do genuinely change for the better, he's going to make sure to remind you the first few times you hang out with them alone that your voice and your opinion are just as valuable as theirs and he doesn't want you to extinguish your flame for anyone

If they don't change, I like to think that Secondo would do whatever he can to make you truly see your worth and realise that you deserve to be treated far better. He won't force you to not be friends with them because he's not an asshole, but he does remind you of your worth and that there are going to be people in your life who value you and will treat you the way you deserve to be treated

[lightningmickqueen]

f1 drivers as underrated and/or unreleased taylor swift songs that altered my brain chemistry

george russell: "i'd lie" because listen "he tells a joke, i fake a smile" he's the least funny person ever but i'd still laugh and also i definitely lie when people ask if i love him (i do but i refuse to admit it publicly if you tell anyone i said this i will lie!!!)

lando norris: "thug story" because of the second hand embarrassment but also i wouldn't be surprised if he knew every word

yuki tsunoda: "today was a fairytale" but unfortunately today was not a fairytale!!! maybe one day he will live to fairytale again but til then he's still feeling this magic in the air though i have faith and i believe

alex albon: "crazier" because listen this is like THE slow dance rom com song from the iconic masterpiece rom com the hannah montana movie and if that doesn't describe alex albon idk what does

nico hulkenberg: "lucky you" ok i love taylor and i know she was like 12 when she wrote this but this song is mid just like hulk <3 however unlike hulk , taylor is no longer mid !!!

lewis hamilton: "superman" i don't know if i need to explain this one i think it makes sense this is just him he'll save the world or go to work it's the same thing idk

pierre gasly: "we were happy" ah a song about young love. love when you're young. love when you were friends and you were young and in love . and then it stopped . no longer friends and young and in love. i wonder why that makes me think of pierre gasly.

esteban ocon: "i heart ?" because listen . "another mess i didn't plan, and i'll bet you thought you beat me" listen!!! not only is that esteban coded but also he's definitely blasting this in his driver room at alpine to piss off his childhood best friend turned rival turned roommate turned ???? aka a certain pierre gasly

logan sargeant: "who i've always been" listen u cannot deny that logan can drive and that's what he's here to do !! the easy ride was never his ambition

oscar piastri: "welcome distraction" SOLELY for the bit where she's like "gone and spilled my coffee trying to get the phone because i thought it might be you" because that is the most oscar piastri thing ever it's so adorably awkward

max verstappen: "beautiful eyes" listen his eyes are SO pretty they're actually illegal in 197 countries if you dont see the vision go to specsavers

charles leclerc: "sweeter than fiction" aka the reason i made this post. this song is SO charles coded and you know what ? ?? ? i will be there time and again and in that perfect weather it'll be like we don't remember the rain we thought would last forever and ever and there'll he'll stand ten feet tall i will say "I KNEW IT ALL ALONG"

lance stroll: "point of view" because from his point of view he's doing GREAT the grass is really green on his side of the street or maybe that's his car. who knows who's right but he thinks he's doing great so

carlos sainz: : "love they haven't thought of yet" it's very cute and honestly very 16 year old taylor but there is something just sooooo carlos about a song about not wanting what's normal but wanting the best and a fairytale even when it doesn't and can't exist <3

zhou guanyu: "superstar" he is literally too powerful for the f1 grid this man is the most well rounded well dressed mfer there and everyone else is no one special theyre invisible

sergio perez: "stupid boy" he is SO. literally any time you expect something decent or good he does the opposite. his most consistent trait. ugh

kevin magnussen: "R-E-V-E-N-G-E" it's on his list of things to do this week he's gonna make SOMEONE feel sorry. not sure who yet but it'll happen

valtteri bottas: "matches" but it's his attitude towards mercedes also "i gave you space you took my place and gave it to her" he may be besties with lewis but he will never like george <3 that's ok tho he looks great w a mullet and he's gonna burn it down

mick schumacher: i don't want to lose his face i don't want to wake up one day and not remember what time erased and i don't want to turn around because i'm not scared of what love gave me and took away and i don't want to lose his face

sebastian vettel: "just south of knowing why" listen it's about driving all night searching for something you'll never find he's definitely done that irl and also he doesn't have a plan he doesn't have a map he doesn't even know if he's ever going back

fernando alonso: "only the young" i know you're doubting me but this is about winning and overcoming the odds and also only the young can run (from him)

[kitzenvoncatzen]

It's different every time, though. Last week I was tied up and carried off in a helicopter, this week it looks like some kind of invisibility thing is happening.

Now, this time, the hero did arrive, but instead of sticking around to do the whole thing with my regular kidnapper, simply gave me a note, instructing me to just hold it until I'm captured.

Maybe it's some kind of elaborate plan.

Is what I would start thinking if I hadn't immediately been snatched up by invisible arms just before my mind got to that point.

"Oh no. Help." I say, sarcastic, of course, but with a hint of amusement. "You've got sound prevention this time? Wow. I didn't even hear your footsteps."

"I've also got you inside the invisibility radius. And sound radius." A small device lit up at seemingly random intervals on his chest. The wind of the probably enhanced speed blew my hair directly into my face.

"Oh, uh, I was given... a letter." I can't really show him without falling out of his arms, so I wait until we're wherever it was he was taking me.

We turn sharply into an alleyway and he turns the device off and sets me down.

"A letter?" He seems surprised. "Alright let's see it."

I hand him the letter.

I hear a bit of mumbling as he reads it.

"HE'S BREAKING UP WITH ME?!" Ok. We have been... Friends I guess for well over a year by now. The hero and the villain...

Well ok yeah that does make sense.

"Not even brave enough to say it to my face." He doesn't actually look as upset as I'd expect. Maybe he was expecting this to happen. "Well, since I no longer have a mortal enemy- and a lover- I think I need someone to fill that role. Which is one role. Both of those." He looks up at me.

"Is this like a proposal?" I ask. Honestly I'm not against this I'm just surprised it would happen like this. Actually I would have bet money against it happening like this.

"Oh yeah." He gets on one knee. "So this 'hero' has also decided to retire..."

"Ok...? What does this mean?"

"One second." He grabs a small object that was taped inside the letter. "This is the Ring Of Heroism or something I don't know what it's actually called..." He holds up a ring, with a piece of tape still on it. "Will you become my mortal enemy? My true nemesis? And most of all, my actual true love?"

I think. Not for long because I already know my answer is gonna be yes. I just think to myself "Huh I thought maybe he'd take me on a date or two first." Then I think to myself "No, wait, he's been kidnapping me every week for a year."

And inevitably, probably the opposite of what my parents would have wanted,

I say "Yes."

A raccoon is watching us and claps.

[ Yeah ok yeah this is a cool one I think. It's pretty cool. It's so cool guys it's just the coolest thing you've ever seen. ]

You are kidnapped by the villain regularly, but you’re starting to look forward to it. You know they won’t hurt you, and are simply being dramatic. It also doesn’t help that you are the only person they ever kidnap. This time, the hero doesn’t bother trying to save you.

[bradleymarshall]

Tired

Look mate, Imma just be real, I never wanted to play games. We all have it hard in life.

I've done my part and helped you as much as I can. Done things all on your terms. But I know damn well that my help is definitely replaceable, and you're not doing a good job at telling me otherwise. Way to make a friend feel invisible.

But it really angered me when you seemed to imply that I am a priority just because you talk to me more than your father.

Dude, all we talk about is you. Every time I end up mentioning something about my life, it gets lost in the abyss of our conversations, to the point where I numerously have to bring up things so you actually remember things in my life. It's no wonder you bring up Elaine when we talk about this situation. You know damn well what you're doing.

You see, I always wondered how someone who is so perceptive needs a constant reminder of the stuff that's going on in my life. It then occurred to me that some people just conveniently forget the things they don't care enough to remember.

Sometimes it's no wonder why I resort to playing games, or constantly send longer paragraphs, or even in worst case scenario, make you doubt yourself or insult you, the way I have in the past. Those are the only ways to provoke a reaction out of you so the conversation becomes equal. Haven't you noticed how readily and quickly you reply when the conversation is like that?

It didn't make sense to me before why whilst i was being optimistic, you still were adamant there would be entropy in our friendship. I'm over you, I'm done and ready to make boundaries, but of course, this shit called a relationship is meant to be two-sided. But one person wasn't really considerate of the other. Like no shit you were gonna say that, the one who lights the fire is going to smell the smoke. The smoke of complacency.

Yeah man, that's the real deal here. It's not just the making time. I feel like nothing around you. Your compliments mean jack all. it's just empty words. I already know I'm deep, creative or whatever you have to say. Apart from when I've had really really serious situations happen to me, not once have I felt like i could say "oh yeah Mason is a true friend. He'd be there for me."

These bosses of yours, or selfish people and those who are hungry for power, money you name it. They don't give a shit about anyone except themselves. You call yourself more religious now, believing in god. Preach his words, learning to love thy neighbour and experiencing love in a community that is not something you intend to make money off, something that isn't involving just personal gain to you. Having a sense of unity. That's not something you're gonna automatically get once you've "made it".

Man, I just wanted to feel respected or seen. You make me feel the complete opposite. It's not just about having "time". I've told you how to compromise, how you should treat a friend. Things I didn't think I'd need to be teaching a 25 year old man. It sucks because there are moments where it almost feels like things are getting better, and you genuinely care. But then we're back it again at square and I feel dumbfounded because suddenly I'm being your therapist with no form of reciprocation.

i have my struggles too. I was really upset more than i thought about hearing L making it into med. I know from the bottom of my heart that he is not a good guy, and I wont curse him for making it in but I know so many people in that position. I also came out to the girl who I had a feeling liked me, which was stressful because I didn't know how to go about it, and she was a cool person. Turns out I was right, and she did have feelings for me. I hate that I'm right because I always know when a girl likes me and it makes me cringe. I bet you don't even remember, but I've mentioned this girl to you already. Among many other more important things I've pretty much been upset or really happy about but yet again, just gets lost in the abyss.

I'm really worried about money too as I only have 2000 in my savings and while I've given 20k to my brother and my parents I know both are not in positions to give that back to me and so I can't really afford to enjoy myself these days. We all have it hard in life Brad. Every single one of us.

I always lent an ear and been a helping hand and I really don't think I'm asking much of you. Man, I've even been willing to compromise for things most friends would not be we willing to do. Where's my end of the bargain?

I'm not sorry that you can't profit off me, or that I'm not some business investment, since those are the things you consider productive working towards. I'm worth a lot more than that, and I think a true friend would realise and not take advantage of me.

[lexosaurus]

Phic Phight 2022: Black and White Roses

Phic for @gilbirda and @murphy-kitt

Characters: Danny, Valerie WC: 3587 Summary: When he died, he didn't get a memorial service. He didn't get the vigil, the flowers, the headstone. In fact, no one even found his body. No One Knows AU, Full Ghost AU.

[ao3] [ffn]

---

“You’re like the opposite of my sister."

Valerie’s head whipped around. In the past three years that she’d known the ghost, and the past two since their uncanny friendship had begun, he had never offered her any insight into his personal life. She had tried several times to pry, but each question was met either with an uncomfortable stutter or a response so outlandish that not even Dash would have believed it.

Because Valerie knew that he didn’t die from a feral ninja attack thank-you-very-much.

“A sister?” She propped her leg on her hoverboard.

Phantom snorted, flipping on his back and putting his hands under his head. He floated aimlessly around her, a serene smile decorating his lips. “Yeah. She’s this bossy know-it-all genius. You’re way more chill.”

The use of present tense wasn’t lost on Val. “So…she’s alive?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you see her a lot?”

Phantom paused, a thoughtful expression donning his face. “Sort of. She uh, she doesn't live here anymore. She's in a different state now, so it’s harder for me to get there unless I know of a natural portal that’s opening there. I need the Infimap for that, and I can’t ask Frostbite for it too often so, you know how it is.”

Valerie, in fact, did not know how it was, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Dozens of questions popped into her mind, but she held back. Just because Phantom was willing to offer her breadcrumbs, didn’t mean she could get too greedy.

Fortunately for her, he decided to continue on anyway. “She doesn’t know about me. I’m always invisible when I see her. She can’t…”

Alarm bells went off in her head. “Like, she doesn’t know that you were her brother?”

“Yeah.”

Valerie stared. She knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it.

Why?

“Do your parents know?”

“No.”

“But you see them too?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

What used to be alarm bells had now escalated to full blaring foghorns. Why? Why did he keep it a secret?

Why not tell them?

She tried to put herself in his family's position, imagining if her mom was still around as a ghost, and chose to keep it from her. That level of selfish cruelty…

But it didn’t make sense. Phantom wasn’t the vicious ghost she had first assumed he was back when she was fourteen. Since they started actually talking, Valerie had come to realize just what a kind and empathetic soul he was, full of that childhood innocence and the belief that people were inherently good.

So why hold this so secret? Why not tell them, why not talk to them? Why pretend like they’ll never see him again?

Valerie swallowed, rehearsing the question in her head. She wasn’t usually one for tact, but even she could see what a delicate situation this was. “Do you mind if I ask why you haven’t told any of them?”

Phantom gnawed on his bottom lip. “It would ruin them.”

She wasn’t sure what kind of response she’d been expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it.

“Ruin them?”

“You know, if they found out that their son turned into…” He swept his hand over his body. “This.”

“I think they’d probably be more relieved that they could talk to you again. I bet they miss you a lot.”

“They do. I know they do. But they still can’t know about me. They…Valerie, they think I’m a monster.”

She felt her eyebrows spike up. Phantom was usually so peppy it made her want to puke rainbows, but this?

This was a whole new side to him she’d never witnessed before.

“Why do you think that?”

He sat up and crisscrossed his legs in the air. His eyes were wide, pleading with her to understand. “You don’t know them like I do. I’ve heard them, I know what they think. My sister, maybe not so much, but my parents would probably kill themselves if they found out.” His voice fell, and he let his bangs cover his eyes. “I know I’m not a monster now. But they don’t. They already lost their kid, I can’t let them know what he turned into. And besides, it’s not like they’d ever believe me.”

“I’m sorry,” Valerie said reflexively.

“Yeah…” Phantom looked back up at the clear night sky.

The twinkling stars seemed almost cruel now.

“And I feel bad because…I don’t know if I should even be saying this.”

“Tell me. I won’t say anything, I swear.”

“Okay.” He breathed out. “Okay. It’s just that no one knows.”

Valerie floundered with a response. “What, that you became Phantom?”

That same puzzled look came back over Phantom’s face, and he refused to make eye contact with her. “Well, that too.”

“Then what?”

“No one knows I died.”

On instinct, Valerie’s hoverboard jerked back. Her eyes widened, and her body felt like she’d just been punched in the gut.

“How?” she choked out.

How could no one know he died?

She always figured he had died tragically. After all, the more powerful the ghost, the more emotions they experience d during their death. And no one who died young and became one of the most powerful ghosts in the Zone did so peacefully.

But she’d never actually sat down and thought about it. And even if she had, there was certainly no way she could have predicted this.

“My body’s still out there,” he continued on. “I keep waiting for someone to find it, but nobody ever has. And I don’t think anyone ever will.”

“Phantom…”

But he was lost in his own little world now. His face twisted sardonically, a dark chuckle at his lips. “I don’t think anyone really tried to find me, to be honest. No one ever cared about me. When I disappeared, I think people were like, ‘oh well, that was bound to happen.’ But it wasn’t. I was…I was just a kid. Still am, I guess.”

“I’m sure people tried,” she offered.

“No.” His voice was sharp, bitter. “They didn’t. Red, I was no one before I was Phantom. I was just some loser kid from a weird home. And when I disappeared, people spent all of two seconds trying to find me before they just gave up. There were no obvious leads, apparently, and no one cared enough to find out. No body, so the cops just assumed I ran away. They don’t really investigate runaways, especially not ones from teens like me. The rejects. Losers, whatever.”

Every sentence felt like a stab in her chest. To hear that he really thought so little of himself? And that apparently he felt like everyone else did too?

Maybe that’s just his restless spirit talking, Valerie said. There was no way that his community truly cared so little that they were just willing to give up like this.

“My sister tried to find me, I think. And my best friend is still looking. Every so often I see him on message boards online still looking. He thinks I’m still alive, I guess.” Phantom brought his knees to his chest, hugging his legs. “It would probably be better if he gave up. Just admit that I’m gone.”

“They care about you,” Valerie said softly. “That’s why they won’t give up. They still have hope that you’re okay.”

“Yeah, well I’m not. I’m a ghost.”

“So does that mean your case is still open?” Valerie asked.

Phantom sighed. “Fuck if I know. I never got a memorial service or anything, so probably. I bet my parents refused to give me a funeral because if they did that, then that would mean my family actually facing the truth.”

“Oh…” Valerie wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. In her eyes, funerals and memorial services were always an act for the living rather than the dead. It was a way for friends and family to remember the life that person lived, to keep them alive in spirit. It was a physical marker for the life they’d lived and the people they’d met along the way.

But based on Phantom’s dejected face and slumped shoulders, it almost appeared like he was hurt he never got one.

When she thought about it, that made sense. Phantom was, supposedly, a forgotten teen. One who apparently no one remembered enough to give a proper investigation to. One whose body had surly disintegrated to bones, who was laying out somewhere still yearning to be found. He had left no mark in his community, in Amity Park.

Of course he would want to be recognized.

“I know it’s selfish for me to want something like that.”

“It’s not,” Valerie said. “It makes sense.”

“I don’t know, I just feel like I never got that one thing that every other dead person gets. Just like a day where everyone gets together and thinks, ‘yeah, this person was alright.’” Phantom shrugged dully. “Maybe it’s better I never got a funeral, though. Then I wouldn’t have to face the truth that no one actually gave a shit I died.”

“Why would you think that?”

Phantom looked at her with a blank expression. When he spoke, it was matter of fact. “‘Cause I don’t think anyone would have shown up.”

—

Organizing the memorial was…surprisingly easy.

In her Red Huntress persona, she approached the city council and proposed the idea. At first, they didn’t seem engaged, simply letting her speak and then sending her on her way. But word spread quickly, and public support caught like wildfire.

Because if there was one thing for certain, it was that over the past few years, Phantom had become a staple in Amity Park. And the majority of the city liked having him around. Once Valerie might have slipped that Phantom was never given a memorial service when he died, it was truly incredible how fast the city rallied around the idea of honoring him now.

People donated their time, money, and resources. The flower shop designed a lovely, intricate bouquet of white and black flowers. A local priest volunteered to run the service. A funeral home offered to help organize the event, the town donated a plot of land in the cemetery, and a fundraiser was set up to purchase a headstone. Flyers were printed, the music was sorted, and everyone seemed excited about the event.

After the ball got rolling, Valerie wondered if Phantom would be angry with her for leaking his wish, for mentioning that he never got a memorial. But Phantom, thankfully, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the young ghost also seemed excited.

And it wasn’t so much that he said it in words. There was a certain energy around him, an especially prominent glow to his eyes. And when Valerie nonchalantly asked if he was going to the memorial, Phantom almost looked offended that she would imply that he wouldn’t be there.

“Of course, Red!” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be invisible though. I think it’s a bit weird if the dead person is just standing off to the side.”

“That’s a good point.”

And so the week passed and then the next, and before she knew it, the day of the memorial service and candlelight vigil was here.

It was all so beautiful.

His headstone was clean, polished, but not too showy. Engraved in the stone were the markings:

Danny Phantom

Protector of Amity Park

Hundreds of people showed up, all dressed in black, most holding small candles or flowers. But instead of a sea of crying faces, people were happy. They were excited.

Because this wasn’t a goodbye to the dead, this was a celebration of the ghost he had become.

Valerie appeared as the Red Huntress and stood up front. She had donned a black peacoat over her suit, but even with it, the red made her stick out like a sore thumb.

Not that she could complain. This day was about Phantom, not her.

“Over the past few years,” she began. “I’ve gotten to know Phantom. Not just as a ghost, not just as a colleague or ally, but as my friend. He’s a kind soul, and away from the ghost fights, he’s the most gentle spirit I’ve ever encountered. Phantom is a kid who lost his life too young but had enough fighting spirit left in him to come back and continue making the world a better place. I don’t know who he was when he was alive, but all I can say is that I have no doubt he was just as kind and selfless back then as he is now.

“Phantom, if you’re out there, I want you to know that I do care about you. Very much so. I know we got off on the wrong foot, and I know we’ve long since moved passed this, but I will forever be grateful for the empathy that you showed me when I was at my lowest. It’s only thanks to you that I’ve been able to grow into who I am today.

“To Phantom!”

Valerie went back down to the side and listened to the other speeches from people who had close encounters with Phantom or people higher in Amity’s city government.

She was surprised when Mr. Lancer stepped up to speak. He told a story that Valerie herself didn’t even know about, of Mr. Lancer showing up to his classroom late after school one day, only to find Phantom himself dozing at a desk.

“When I asked him what he was doing in my classroom, he panicked, but then I invited him to stay. Despite him appearing in my class every other week for a ghost attack, it occurred to me that I’d never had a conversation with young Phantom before then. And what a lovely conversation it was. Hidden underneath that brave face was a joyful teenager, one who had dreams and ambitions of his own, and who saw life and death differently than I did. He was someone who, despite having died young, still had passions and hobbies of his own.

“We’ve spoken several times since then. As I’ve discovered, young Phantom seems to have a certain affinity for coffee. For a young teen such as himself, he is intelligent beyond his years, especially concerning philosophical debates about what it means to be alive, to be human. Phantom may not be human anymore in the technical sense, but the humanity he’s displayed to our city and those in our community stretches far beyond what most have done. I have been honored to get to know him, and I thank him for his service to the betterment of our community.”

The service ended, flowers were piled onto his grave until the plot of land was full, and people began leaving flowers on other graves as well. Soon, the cemetery was filled with roses and other miscellaneous flowers.

Valerie thought it was beautiful.

She didn’t see Phantom at all. True to his word, he stayed invisible throughout the service. But then later when she was out for patrol, maybe it was instinct that caused her to fly by the cemetery.

She was thankful she did because beyond the gates was a glowing, black and white figure. Standing in front of a headstone and a mountain of flowers.

She touched down behind him, not wanting to disturb him while he was clearly lost in thought. Although she tried to make her footsteps as silent as possible as she approached, ghost instincts were better than that.

“Thanks for the speech, Red,” Phantom said. A smile touched his lips. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“Please, like I wouldn’t say anything, you little stalker.”

He chuckled, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Of course.”

She stood next to him, noting how small he was. In the air, it was less noticeable. But on the ground, the disparity was more apparent than ever.

Once upon a time, they had been the same height. Back when they were both fourteen, and she just figuring out how her equipment worked. But now she’d grown, and he hadn’t, forever stuck in a form that died just before he hit his teenage growth spurt.

“Hey…” Phantom said in a tone that either meant he was about to suggest something really dumb, really dangerous, or both. “Can I show you something?”

“Sure?”

“Okay.”

Without another word, he took off.

Valerie was quick to follow, and together the duo flew to the edge of the city where fields and trees met tall buildings. Red flags raised in her mind, and more than once she meant to ask Phantom where they were going, but one look at his face told her better.

She trusted him. Whatever it was, it would make sense when they arrived.

And finally, sometime later, they did arrive. In the middle of nowhere, in a field with tall grass and weeds that grew to heights beyond their own.

“So…” Phantom took a deep breath, shaking out his hands. “Um, this is really weird.”

“So long as you’re not taking me out all this way to kill me, I don’t mind,” Valerie quipped.

Her attempt to lessen the tension in the air seemed to do the trick, and Phantom smiled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, definitely not going to ax murder you.”

Valerie gave him the universal ‘go on?’ gesture.

“Uh, so, you see…” He crouched down and activated his intangibility, sticking his hand into the ground. “This is where my body is.”

Suddenly, her veins filled with ice. “Huh?”

He pulled, and Valerie watched with a mix of horror and fascination as a black trash bag followed his arms out of the ground. It crinkled, and with disgust, she recognized one of the sounds as what could only have been bones clanking in the bag.

She felt lightheaded. “Your body?”

“Yeah, I sort of freaked out when I first died,” he gave a low chuckle, dropping his intangibility. “I think I was afraid my parents were going to be mad? I don’t know. I dumped myself in this field.”

“Jesus Christ.” Valerie stared wide-eyed as the bag lay on the ground unmoving.

“I know it’s really weird. I’m sorry, I just feel like this is the right time.”

“The right time?” Her voice was breathless. “For what?”

“To put myself in the cemetery, of course.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, uh…” Phantom stood, shuffling awkwardly. “Sorry, you don’t have to do anything. I just am gonna phase myself into the ground.”

“Okay.”

Valerie’s eyes did not leave the bag as they flew back. They tracked every crinkle, every jolt, every speck of dirt on the plastic, every curve and spike in the bag where she knew, just a millimeter under it, a dead body was.

She felt sick. Nausea threatened to crawl up her throat, and her hands felt numb. She moved with no purpose, just following Phantom like a puppet back to the cemetery where true to his word, he simply phased that vile bag into the ground.

And then he thanked her for being there for him and left.

Leaving Valerie standing there. Alone.

In front of his headstone, his black and white flowers, his gravesite where his decayed body was resting just a few feet below the surface.

Valerie wasn’t typically one for teenage drinking, not with the threat of ghosts forcing her to be constantly on-call, but her father was out tonight and she had never needed a glass of something alcoholic more than this.

Her grandfather’s old clock ticked away on their wall. It was an hour off, they had forgotten to set it after daylight savings last week, but Valerie didn’t care.

Phantom’s body. She saw Phantom’s body.

The one that was still missing. That his parents didn’t even know existed. That his sister and friend were supposedly still out there looking for. The one that people thought was still alive and just couldn’t find his way home again.

The missing child.

The open case.

And she knew where it was.

She could call this into the police. She should call it in. This was someone’s son, someone’s brother. This was some kid who just disappeared one day. This was a hole in people’s hearts.

This was a dead, decayed body in a trash bag.

But it was Phantom. Her friend. Someone who had his own reasons for never reporting where his body was, someone who had kept it hidden for at least three years, likely more. Someone who could have—at any point—confessed to the entire truth. Who could have given closure to his loved ones.

Who chose not to for his own reasons.

And who was Valerie to decide this for him? To out his ghost persona to his family? Hell, to the entire world?

But this was a dead kid.

Valerie clutched her drink in one hand, and her phone in the other.

She should report this to the police.

Her vision blurred, and she felt tears spill onto her cheeks. She screwed her mouth close, choking back cries of frustration and pain and sadness.

She was Phantom’s friend. If she called, then she would be throwing that friendship away. He would never forgive her. She knew him well enough to understand this with one hundred percent certainty.

She cherished their friendship too much to throw it all away.

The clock ticked louder on the wall, echoing around the silent house.

You should report this.

---

gilbirda's prompt: It would’ve been nice if Danny had gotten the beautiful grave and memorial that he deserved. Instead, no one even found his body. (from danphanwritingprompts)

murphy-kitt's prompt: Valerie bonds with Phantom over his past life. Not an identity reveal.

Thanks for reading!

[txnjiku]

[ 11:37 pm ] Poker Night

# Paring: 「bonten」 Kokonoi Hajime x 「gn」 Reader

# Summary: Conning men with the love of your life.

Buzzers going off, people cheering, smoking filling the air, and money. Money in the form of checks, chips, paper, coins, everywhere. Exchanged, lost, won, rotating these forms as the night continued.

Just another normal Saturday night with Kokonoi.

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

“Him.” The two of you stood at the VIP section, eyes following his finger to stare at the man at the opposite end of the invisible line.

And the man at the end of the invisible line couldn’t flaunt his ‘wealth’ any louder. Cigar hanging from his lips, head thrown back in laughter as greedy hands reached for the won poker chips at the center of the table. And no doubt the women hanging off his left arm were just doing so in hopes of scoring a few hundred off him.

An easy target he would be.

“Hm, how much do you think I can get off him?” You turned back to Kokonoi, watching as he swirled his drink around the glass a few times, thinking.

“Nothing less than a hundred thousand.”

Kokonoi could make any amount of money easily, it's been known as his ‘thing.’ Being a part of Bonten allowed for that, his skills allowed for extra. But watching you acquire the cash, similar to how he got his minions to get his sums when he was younger, made him feel something.

Something that made him flush on the inside, not wanting to look away from you for a second.

And you, seeing how proud he looked after, and the amount of cash you got at the end, make it even more thrilling and worth it.

Moving to sit at the poker table next to the man that Kokonoi pointed out, you already planned out how you were going to milk the money off of this man, seeing how he already made the people around him to make space for you to sit right next to him.

“You sure you wanna play here? This isn’t just some playground.” His tone made you want to roll your eyes, but no, you couldn’t. You didn’t want to ruin the plan this early in the night.

Batting not so innocent eyelashes at the man, you watched as a grin spread across his face as you spoke up with a voice dripping with tainted honey. “Oh? Then could you teach me how to play?”

Even if it was just the two of you seated at the table, his voice drowned out, words going through one ear and out the other. You already knew how to play, it was child's play at this point due to the number of poker nights Ran and Rindou held at their shared penthouse. But letting the man think he had the power would be useful to win over his wages.

Playing dumb, the mans eyes grew wide when you pulled out handfuls of the round, colorful coins fron your bag, sorting through them, silently counting the amount by looking at the color of them. Laid out on the table was a total sum of a thousand dollars in poker chips. “Can I start the bet with this?”

The sinister grin received by the man was enough to let you know he wanted to con you for your money, and maybe yourself too. He nodded eagerly. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

His greedy grin only grew as he accumulated more and more of your chips as each round passed on, his pile growing into small mounds on the table, almost doubling what he originally had. Sporting a fake pout and letting a small huff, you laid your head on the table, puppy dog eyeing the man while he sat there chuckling. “Guess your luck ran out.”

Faking a sigh, you lift your head, sporting a little smile before turning back to the man. “I’m out of chips.” You were getting tired of listening to the man and playing dumb. When you finally beat him, how joyful you would feel.

“Need a loan, lovely?” Well if it isn’t your knight in shining armor who finally decided to leave the sidelines and watch up close.

Seating himself on the stool next to yours, head resting on his palm placed atop the edge of the table. Oh, how flawless he looked. Platinum locks styled perfectly, thanks to yourself, and a three piece red suit tailored to fit his body. Hot, perfect, clean, professional, unlike the man to your other side whose vest did not match his dress shirt, tie loosely done, hair messy.

“You sure you want to man? They’ve been losing all night.” That irritating laugh rippled through the air once again making you almost roll your eyes. “But if you insist.” Seems like he was too drunk to realize who he was talking to.

Pulling out the same amount of chips sitting on the man's side of the table, Kokonoi slid them over to you, both watching in amusement as the man's eyes grew wide. “You’re really gonna give them all that? You’re gonna go bankrupt. I’m going all in then. Last round for me.”

You turned to Kokonoi, both grinning like the Cheshire cat. Both about to ruin the man's ego. So badly.

You both watched as the man grinned when the cards were dealt. His poker face, gone, most likely thinking he already won. But you and Kokonoi knew better.

“Four. Of. A. Kind.” Putting all his cards down one by one, putting unneeded emphasis for each word he spoke, he was already reaching for yours, Kokonoi’s, chips.

But the man was cut short, letting out a yelp when a knife, Kokonoi’s knife, landed right in front of, millimeters away from, his fingertips. “Ah, ah. Hands to yourself. They haven’t even shown their cards yet.”

He retracted his hand, fast, letting you place down your cards one by one, mimicking him just seconds ago. “A royal flush,” you said as you finished placing the cards down. The best hand anyone could have, laid right in front of everyone at the green table.

You wished you could have taken a picture of the man’s face when he saw your cards. The five stages of grief passing through his eyes. “That’s– how– that’s not possible–.”

Reaching over, you hoarded his chips to your chest, grinning madly at watching the man cripple in distress over his lost funds. “Guess my luck hasn’t run out after all.”

Pouring the tens, hundreds of chips into your bag, you got ready to leave the table when the man reached for your arm. It was for only a second, his hand maybe only grazed your arm due to Kokonoi's quick movements.

Pushing you behind him, his gun was pointed right between the man’s eyes, a kill shot. A slight move of his finger and bang, the man would be dead in a mere second. “Lay a hand on my fiancé again and you’ll have a bullet in your head. Understood?”

The realization of who was in front of him finally kicked in, the fear of his life hanging on the edge finally made him realize who's casino he was in, and how the owner was standing right in front of him. You watched as the man nodded quickly before scurrying away as fast as he could, tail between his legs.

When Kokonoi finally turned around after making sure the man was out of sight, he pulled your arms around his neck, his arms moving around to lightly grasp your waist, bringing his mouth to the tips of your ears before speaking. “Man, he was annoying.”

Letting him enjoy the only laugh he wants to hear for the rest of his life that arose from his response, you gave him a quick kiss on his lips before taking the bag of your winning chips and walking towards the VIP section. “Let’s cash these out!”

Oh, how he adores you ♡.

[engie-ivy]

Marlene’s little brother has a thing for Sirius, because who doesn't have a thing for Sirius? Marlene is freaking out, and everyone thinks it's just hilarious. Remus would've thought it was hilarious too, had Marlene’s little brother not been very close in age, cute, witty, and oh so bloody charming.

Somewhat longer fic that will be added to my Crush Confessions Series! 3756 words, so not that long. Wolfstar Fluff, of course😎

Muggle Charms

James Potter’s garden party is the event of the summer. Everyone gets together at the Potter estate for a day of listening to music, swimming in the lake (yes, there’s a lake on the grounds of the Potter estate), and playing friendly Quidditch matches. Mrs Potter walks around with all sorts of delicious foods, James and Sirius fly their brooms above the lake and make bets who dares to jump off from the greatest height, Mary and Emmeline are sunbathing and make bets who will need to be healed first.

It had started the summer after first year with just the four Marauders, but every year, their number has grown, and this year is the largest group thus far.

Marlene McKinnon is last to arrive, and, as usual, her arrival doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Everyone, come meet my little brother!” She shouts across the field.

The McKinnons have four children. Marlene’s mother and two of her siblings are Muggles, while the rest have magical abilities. Marlene’s sister is the oldest of the siblings. She’s a Muggle who works as a primary school teacher. Despite growing up with a father who’s a wizard, she has always felt slightly uncomfortable around magic, but she loves her family fiercely and is very protective over her younger siblings. As she’s much older than Marlene, she has always been more like a second mother.

Next comes Marlene’s older brother, who’s wizard, but has finished Hogwarts long ago. He now works in the Sales Department for a company that develops novel potions against levitation- and portkey-sickness. According to Marlene he’s a serious businessman by day, and a giant goofball by night.

Last is Marlene’s younger brother. He’s a Muggle, but where Marlene’s sister likes to pretend magic doesn’t exist, he thinks it mighty fascinating. He and Marlene are incredibly close, writing each other constantly and hanging out as often as they can when Marlene was home from Hogwarts. She has never brought him to James’ garden party, though. He works in the Food Service Industry, and the bright summer days on which James plans his parties are the days on which he most likely has to work. This year, however, he had managed to get the day off.

The first thing Remus thinks is that the McKinnons have good genes. He can’t really tell which of the two siblings is older, which means they must be very close in age. The boy has the same thick, blond hair and bright blue eyes as Marlene, as well as the same freckles from the sun. He’s short for a guy, barely taller than Marlene, but he’s quite muscular, with broad shoulders. All in all, Marlene’s younger brother is a very cute guy.

“Everyone, this is Miles!” Marlene says, when everyone has gathered around. “Let’s see... Here we have James Potter, he’s the host.”

Miles grins at James. “Some house you’ve got here, mate. Thanks for having me!”

James grins back and lifts his beer. “Cheers, mate!”

“James is Lily’s boyfriend,” Marlene says. “You’ve already met Lily-” Miles gives Lily a warm smile “-and of course you know Dorcas.”

“Hullo Dorky.”

“Hiya Miley.”

“And here we have my other girls, Alice Fortescue, Mary McDonald and Emmeline Vance.” Marlene points each of the girls out, and Miles gives them all a friendly nod.

“And these two are the Prewetts, Fabian and Gideon- don’t worry about who’s who, none of us actually knows.”

“Oi!”

“And this is Caradoc Dearborn, and this Benjy Fenwick, so miraculously you’re not the shortest guy here.”

“Marlene!”

“And here we have the rest of the renegades, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black.”

The chance in Miles is instant.

The polite smile he was wearing turns into a coy smile, as he gives Sirius a not-so-subtle once-over, though Remus doesn’t think it was ever meant to be subtle. Miles takes a step forward towards Sirius. “Well, hello there.”

Remus can’t blame him. He would’ve reacted the same had he been in Miles’ position (alright, maybe he would’ve turned into a blushing, stuttering mess and forget his own name if he were suddenly faced with a guy like Sirius, instead of step forward with an enticing smile and flirtatious greeting, but that’s beside the point). Sirius looks bloody amazing. His swimming trunks are clinging to his legs, and his damp hair is hanging over his bare chest, with little droplets dripping down his muscular body.

Sirius grins knowingly at Miles. “Hi.”

Marlene’s head whirls around from Miles to Sirius to Miles and back to Sirius, so fast Remus worries she might get a whiplash.

“No,” she says. “No, nope, uh-uh, absolutely not. Not. Happening. No.”

She steps between her brother and Sirius, facing the latter, and jabbing a finger against his chest. “You are not going to try anything on my little brother, got it?”

Sirius holds up his hands and takes a step back. “I only said hi.”

Marlene looks at him suspiciously, like she suspects Sirius saying hi is some sort of secret seduction technique (which would actually explain a lot).

“C’mon Marls.” Miles moves to stand next to his sister, and throws an arm over her shoulder. He winks at Sirius. “We all just want to have a good time, don’t we?”

Marlene’s face is getting more red by the second. Her fingers are clutching her cardboard plate, causing it to rumple. She’s clenching her jaw, while intently staring at the pair a bit further on the field.

“I can’t bloody believe it,” she hisses. “If Black thinks I’ll let him hook up with my little brother, he has another thing coming!”

Miles had managed to catch Sirius when he went to grab a drink, and they have been chatting apart from the rest of the group for about half an hour now, to Marlene’s great distress, and everyone else’s amusement. Well, everyone else except for Remus, but he thinks he’s been hiding it quite well.

Remus doesn’t know how the guy does it, but Miles somehow manages to stand closer and closer to Sirius. He’s looking up at him through his lashes, with those big blue eyes and that damned smile, sometimes even going as far as to bite his lip. Sirius has definitely been blushing at some point!

While Remus is the only one who can emphasize with Marlene’s distress over the situation, he really doesn’t like how she’s blaming it all on Sirius, while evidently its her brother who’s acting like a little minx.

“Honestly, Marlene,” Lily says, shaking her head. “Didn’t you talk to Miles about there being an incredibly hot, single gay guy present?”

Remus agrees. Marlene should’ve known what would happen when she decided to introduce her brother to Sirius! You cannot bring him here knowing Sirius is looking like he does, and expect him not to react!

Marlene huffs indignantly. “My little brother is a precious angel who’s not interested in such a thing as ‘hot, single men’!”

Lily looks at Miles and Sirius. Miles seems to be laughing at something Sirius said, and touches his upper arm while doing so, letting his hand slide down Sirius’ bicep. Lily turns her head back to Marlene and raises her eyebrow.

Marlene just folds her arms over her chest and pointedly looks away.

Later, when Miles reaches up to brush a strand of hair from Sirius’ face, Marlene’s face has taken on a more purple colour. By this time, she has started angrily chewing on her cardboard plate.

Luckily, everyone’s too busy making fun of Marlene to notice Remus looks like he’s going to be sick.

Normally, a day at the Potter estate flies by, but Remus is positive this day lasts at least three times as long. But Remus has been getting through it. He hopes that after today, he won’t see Miles McKinnon of ever again. Well, he mostly hopes Sirius won’t see Miles McKinnon ever again, he can admit that . To himself, that is.

Currently, he’s sitting down with James, having a butterbeer. Just when he thinks he might make it through these last hours without further additions to his misery, Marlene comes striding their way, Dorcas on her heels.

“Potter,” she says, stopping in front of them and placing her fists on her hips. “You’ve got something I need, and I want it now!”

“Sorry McKinnon,” James says with a smirk. “I’m a one woman man.”

“In your dreams, you wanker,” Marlene snaps. “You’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, no?”

James takes off his glasses and starts polishing them with his robes. “I may or may not possess such a thing.”

Marlene rolls her eyes. “After seven years of going to school with you, I think I can safely say that you do. Well, I need you to use it. Miles asked Black to take him on a tour around the lake.” She scrunches up her nose. “And you have to follow them so you can report back to me whether Black has kept his paws off of my little brother!”

“More the other way around,” Remus mutters, but Marlene hears and glares at him.

“My sweet and innocent little brother would never do such a thing! He simply... wants to see the surroundings and needs Black for directions.”

Dorcas throws her head back and cackles loudly. “The only directions your ‘sweet and innocent little brother’ is interested in, is the fastest way to get into Sirius Black’s pants!”

Marlene directs a deadly glare at her.

Just when Remus thinks at least Dorcas knows what she’s talking about, she continues. “C’mon Marls, Miles can make his own decisions. Let the boys have some fun!”

Let the boys have some fun? That’s not a good idea! That’s the opposite of a good idea! That’s a terrible idea!

“Well,” Remus says, managing to sound surprisingly calm. “We’re on Mr and Mrs Potter’s property, and Miles has only just been introduced to the gang. I mean, he and Sirius barely know each other. I’d say it’d be rather inappropriate if something happens between them here and now. You don’t want Marlene’s brother to give off the wrong impression.”

James sighs. “What if I lend you the Invisibility Cloak, and you can follow them yourself?”

“Oh, no!” Marlene holds up her hands and takes a step back. “There are certain things I don’t ever want to see my little brother do, or hear my little brother say. If I were to... accidentally stumble upon them, I’d either have to Obliviate myself, or be scarred for life.”

Remus snorts. Not so sure about her brother being so innocent after all, is she?

“Well, Padfoot’s my brother!” James argues.

“Remember when I put in a good word for you with Lily, and finally got her to agree to go on a date with you?” Marlene plays her final card, and effectively.

“Fine!” James puts down his butterbeer and gets up. “Remus, let’s go.”

“What? Me? Why?”

“Because you got me into this, Mr ‘it’d be inappropriate’. And besides, I’ll feel like some perverted Peeping Tom spying on them alone.”

“So better to have two Peeping Toms?” Remus argues, but he knows it’s an argument he’s not going to win.

That’s how Remus finds himself in the place he wants to be least of all, crouched down under the Invisibility Cloak with James, and, after casting a quick Silencio over their footsteps, following on Sirius and Miles on their ‘casual, totally not romantic, definitely not a date’ stroll.

“-and once I’ve gained enough experience, I’d like to come back to London and open my own restaurant!” Miles finishes.

“That’s amazing, Miles!” Sirius exclaims. “I’ll definitely frequent!”

“As long as you don’t expect any free food just because you’re so handsome,” Miles teases.

Sirius gasps in pretend-shock. “I would never use my looks for such purposes!”

“Right,” Miles chuckles. “You be careful, Sirius Black. A face like yours is a powerful weapon.”

“Wow,” James whispers admiringly. “He’s good!”

Remus grits his teeth. Of bloody course Miles McKinnon is all charming and smooth, chatting Sirius up.

“What about you?” Miles asks. “What are your plans for the future, now that you’re some kind of strong and powerful wizard?”

“I’m starting my Healer training soon!” Sirius beams, and Remus can’t help but smile at the pride in his voice.

“That’s... like a doctor, right?” Miles asks.

“Yeah,” Sirius replies. “But without the cutting people open.” He shudders. “Definitely no cutting people open.”

“Oi!” Miles protests, bumping his shoulder against Sirius. “Doctors cut people open to save lives, you know. They don’t do it for a laugh.”

“I’m sorry!” Sirius quickly says. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s actually very impressive what Muggle doctors can do without magic, and the things they’ve come up with! I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Miles says, glancing at Sirius. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sirius smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just... I was raised in this really conservative pureblood Wizarding family. I’m always afraid I’ll say something Muggle-phobic without realising.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t that bad, honestly.”

“Good,” Sirius says, relieved. “I’m just... trying to be better.”

Miles smiles softly at him. “Just the fact that you’re trying already makes you better.”

They walk in comfortable silence for a moment, until Miles speaks again. “That must’ve been hard though, growing up in a family like that. Marlene already mentioned you’re living here now. Is that why?”

Sirius nods. “I ran away from home the summer before. Best decision I’ve ever made.” There’s a tightness in his voice, though, and an emotion in his eyes that makes Remus want to run towards him and pull him into a hug.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Miles says sincerely. Then he gives Sirius a teasing smile. “Though I must say, it’s a good look on you, the whole ‘sexy rebel’-thing.”

Sirius barks a laugh, and the pained expression slides off his face. “Well, I’m glad my issues at least fit my anaesthetic!”

Remus doesn’t know whether he wants to bless Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile, or whether he wants to curse Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile.

“I bet you love provoking your family, don’t you?” Miles asks.

“That might just be my most favourite pastime,” Sirius replies sincerely.

Suddenly, Miles stops walking, so Sirius stops as well and turns back to face him.

Miles takes a step towards him. “I bet it would really provoke your family if you were to make out with a boy, a Muggle boy at that.”

Sirius swallows and his face slightly flushes. “That... That’ll definitely do the trick, yeah.”

Miles comes even closer, now almost standing chest-to-chest with Sirius, and he tilts his head up and leans in.

James still looks mighty impressed with Miles’ flirting tactics, while Remus wonders if the sound of his heart shattering might give them away.

Suddenly, Sirius steps back. “Wait, stop. I... I can’t.”

Miles looks disappointed, but not too shocked. “Why not?” He asks. Then he jabs his finger against Sirius’ chest, much like his sister did earlier. “And I swear to god, Sirius Black, if it’s because I’m a Muggle you can stick that wand of yours up your-”

“No, no, no!” Sirius quickly says, whilst letting out a breathless laugh. “It’s not you, really, it’s me.”

Miles gives Sirius a stern look, while placing his fists on his hips, making Remus wonder whether they’re sure Marlene and Miles aren’t twins. “If you’re gonna give me that lame excuse, at least elaborate what it is about ‘not me, but you’ that makes you reject me. I mean, I’m not proposing a marriage here!”

Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “There’s... someone else. I mean, there’s not really, I don’t have someone else, but I have feelings for someone else. So therefore this-” He gestures between himself and Miles. “Just doesn’t feel right.”

Remus exchanges a look with James, who looks just as stunned as he is by this information.

Miles, though, just folds his arms over his chest and looks at Sirius thoughtfully for a moment. “So, Lupin then?”

Remus freezes. What? Him? Oh no. He’s not sure he can bear to hear Sirius’ denial. ‘Lupin? Remus? No, of course not! What in Godric’s name gave you that idea? Why the hell would I fancy Remus?’

However, Sirius just sighs and looks down at his shoes. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

Remus stares dumbfounded. It’s... true? He feels an eruption of butterflies in his stomach. Well, he always feels some butterflies when he sees Sirius, but now it’s like all those butterflies had babies, and those babies had babies again, creating an immense flutter.

“Nah,” Miles says. “If I had known for sure, I wouldn’t have made a move. I only had a suspicion, but I decided to take a chance anyway. I’m not too surprised by this turn of events, though.”

“It’s really the only reason,” Sirius says. “Because you’re bloody great, you know that? You’re gonna make some guy really happy one day. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Miles groans. “ ‘Its not you, it’s me’, ‘anyone would be lucky to have you’. Shall we go before you start telling me we can still be friends?”

Sirius grins. “Normally I’d suggest we at least pretend to have had a good snog, just to see if Marlene’s face can get any more purple, but I don’t want to give Remus the wrong impression. Not that he’d care,” he adds with a mutter.

Miles stops walking again. “What? Are you seri- No, Marlene warned me not to say that. Really?”

Sirius just blinks at him.

Miles shakes his head. “I mean, you asked if you were being obvious, well, you were nothing compared to Lupin. Although, that could just be me. I couldn’t help but notice when he’s looking at me like he wants me to catch fire every time I come near you. Wait. You wizards can actually do that, can’t you?”

Remus huffs. He wouldn’t have actually set Miles on fire! At least he doesn’t think so.

Sirius frowns at Miles. “You must be mistaken. Remus is nothing but pure kindness! He always makes everyone feel welcome! You can’t help but like Remus!”

A warm feeling spreads through Remus’ chest.

Miles just looks at Sirius, shaking his head. “You’re actually in love, aren’t you?”

Sirius blushes and looks away.

“Well,” Miles says. “You should tell him how you feel. He clearly feels the same. Then you can both stop this pining.”

James, who just had to process the shock of one of his best friends fancying another one of his best friends, now has to process the shock of his best friends fancying each other. He’s staring at Remus, and consequently trips over a rock. He does manage to catch is balance, but he lets out a loud yelp.

Miles stares at the empty spot behind them on the path, surprised, but Sirius’ eyes narrow in suspicion. He lifts his wand, and the next moment a gush of wind blows the Invisibility Cloak off of Remus and James.

To his credit, Miles recovers pretty quickly from seeing two people appear seemingly out of nowhere, including the person they were just talking about. He blinks a couple of times, then says “I suppose this works as well.”

Remus and Sirius are just staring at each other.

“Uhm...” James says. “I was sent here by miss McKinnon to escort the younger McKinnon back to the estate.” Because apparently awkward situations make him talk like he’s an eighteen century nobleman. “Off we go, young lad.”

Miles doesn’t protest when James grabs his arm and starts dragging him away, but he does turn around to give Sirius a thumbs up.

“We were sent here by McKinnon,” Remus quickly says, when he and Sirius are alone. “She wanted to know if anything would happen between you and her brother.” Remus takes a deep breath. “And maybe I wanted to know if anything would happen between you and him myself as well,” he says softly.

“Were you jealous?” Sirius asks. It sounds curious, not angry, judgemental or smug, just curious.

Still, Remus can’t help but pout, and he looks away. “Of course I was jealous. Bloody Miles McKinnon, with his big blue eyes, batting those ridiculously long eyelashes at you, and being all cute, and witty, and charming.”

“You know, if you want Miles to snog you instead, you should hurry and you can probably still catch him,” Sirius says irritably.

“No!” Remus quickly says. “No. I just mean, I wish it was me. When he calls you handsome, when he brushes your hair away from your face, when he leans in to kiss you... I wish it was me doing those things.”

“Why don’t you?” Sirius whispers, staring at Remus intently.

“Because!” Remus says desperately. “Because I know how to be your friend, but if I even think about flirting with you, I turn into an awkward, rambling mess.”

The only thing that can possibly be going through Sirius’ mind right now is how the hell he let the sexy, confident, flirtatious boy walk away, to be stuck with the flustered heap of awkwardness that is Remus Lupin.

Remus stares down at his shoes. “I mean, I like you a lot, and also because I feel comfortable around you, I do, but when it comes to flirting, I suddenly get scared that you’ll laugh at me or something. I even think it’d be easier if you weren’t my friend, if we didn’t know each other so well. Then maybe I could-”

Remus stops talking when Sirius gently cups his cheek and tilts his head up. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leans in, giving Remus enough time to pull away had he wanted to. Which, for the record, he absolutely doesn’t. Sirius presses their lips together. And it’s...

Well, it’s not awkward at all.

It’s fireworks, and symphonies, and the sun breaking through the clouds. It’s a sense of belonging, and knowing all is right with the world, and a feeling of coming home.

Both boys are a little out of breath when they pull back, more because of the intense emotions than because the kiss had been that passionate.

“See?” Sirius smiles at Remus. “If I want you to stop rambling, I can always just... interrupt.”

“Rude,” Remus mutters, before pulling Sirius back into another kiss.

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (11/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.3k words

Warning : fluff, angst, shitty Steve, Don’t ask me why I make Steve so unlikable in every thing  I write( PS I’m still mad at endgame Steve), mention of sex

If someone had told you that you would wake up snuggled to your boss — naked — you would have told them to fuck off and leave you alone. Not that the idea of James in your bed was repulsive, no, it was actually quite the opposite. You wanted him so much that it scared you because he — well, he was so gorgeous, and you were you. And he even looked better lying in your bed while the sunlight peaked onto his face from the window, making his stubble and hair appear golden-ish. Even as hard his exterior was, everything about him, mostly sleeping in your bed, appeared soft. 

“You know, watching people while they sleep is kinda creepy,” James said, his voice gruff from sleep and you felt heat rushing through your body. God, his morning voice was so hot. It took a second for your brain to register his words and when it did, you moved your gaze away from him.

“You’re beautiful,” you blurted out. You could feel him rumbling as he rubbed his still sleep-dazed eyes.

He gently lifted his hand to place it on your face, caressing your cheek softly with his knuckles as he said, “You are beautiful."

You jokingly rolled your eyes and shifted your face slightly to plant a kiss on the inside of his palm. “Don’t you have a club to run?” 

“The club can wait,” Bucky’s hand trailed off from your face to your waist and he flipped you, situating you on his lap and kissed you lazily while his hands roamed around your body. 

***

Bucky felt like he was dreaming, he felt as if any moment you’ll slip out of his grasp and he would have to wake up. This was too good to be true, you were too good to be true. After an incredible morning, which included him pounding into you in your bed and then on the kitchen worktop and then in the shower. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, he needed to touch you — feel you — make sure you were here with him safe. 

It wasn’t just sex, it was so intimate that it felt so much more. The time when he wasn’t buried inside you, you’d talk about everything. He told you that when he was a kid, he loved baking. His mom worked, so he spent most of his time helping his sister with her new hobby. Rebecca soon grew out of it, but Bucky didn’t. He told you he’d love to open a bakery in a foreign country.

“You know, we can go to Europe,” you suggested. “You can open a bakery and maybe some chocolate whiff is all I need to break out from my writing slump.”

Bucky’s heart ached at your confession, he was delighted to know that he wasn’t the only one that was fantasizing about a future with you. He had never told his ambitions to anyone, mainly because when he did tell someone, they laughed at him. His career and exterior did not match his dreams, and soon those dreams died. But you made him desire that peaceful life. He wanted peace and tranquility in his life with you. Maybe tomorrow he would wake up and realize that this was some dream, and he was alone in his apartment and not in your bed. 

“Have you thought of a name yet?” you asked, “For the bakery.”

“Did you recall that song you were humming?”

 “No,” you said, “But I’m sure it will make a great bakery name.”

You curled up into his chest, you were almost asleep. He kissed the top of your head, refusing to succumb to sleep, holding you tightly so that even if this was an elaborate fantasy that his mind had conjured, he was adamant to still make the most of it.

***

After leaving your house to get ready for work, that's when he finally realized that this was real. You were his, and he was yours in a sense that no amount of words could comprehend. You hadn’t put any official labels on your relationship, but the way you moaned his name and breathlessly whispered, “I’m yours. All yours.” multiple times in his ears was enough.

Bucky hated when people called him James, it reminded him of his father, but the way you said his name with adoration filled in your eyes and tone made him content. You made him feel content and happy with everything you did without even realizing it. Bucky hoped he could do the same for you — make you feel at peace.

“I’ve been calling you since morning,” Steve commented the moment Bucky entered his office. He eyed the group of people — Steve, Sam, Clint, Pietro, Wanda, and Peter in his office before exhaling. Although Bucky was their boss, that didn't deter them from treating him like the friend he was. He didn’t mind that either, these people gave him a sense of belonging — a family, and he would give his life for them just like they would for him.

“I was asleep,” Bucky lied. And of course, his friends didn’t buy it.

“I came by your place this morning. You weren't there sleeping,” Steve retorted. He didn’t like how his best friend who he saw as a brother was hiding things from him. 

Fuck, Bucky thought. Admittedly, he wasn't at his place, he was at yours. He didn’t know what to say when six sets of eyes were looking at him expectantly. He couldn’t tell the truth, he wasn't a kiss-and-tell kind of guy. He wanted to avoid telling because you met these people every day, and it would become awkward for you; but mostly he didn’t want anyone to find out because it was so new for him that he was scared to even mention your relationship, terrified of jinxing it. 

Just when he was about to muster up an excuse, a soft knock on his office door snapped everyone’s attention towards the entrance. Bucky’s relief was short-lived the moment he realized it couldn’t be anyone except you. Now everyone was looking at Bucky impatiently, waiting for him to respond. 

If it were anyone else Bucky would have asked them to go away, but it was you. You were knocking at his door. He wanted to see you, see the marks hidden behind the concealer or collar when he sucked your neck a little too hard the previous night and this morning. Mainly, he wanted to see you.

“Come in,” He said, ignoring the stares his friends were giving him. His breath hitched at your sight, you were really breathtaking. You weren't looking at him or anyone in the room. No, you were holding two coffees and a bag of donuts in your hand. Your eyes were focused and you were looking inside the bag, searching for a dish to put his donut in, when you said, “I knew you'd skip breakfast after you left this morning. I brought you -” 

“Y/N,” Wanda cut you off.

Bucky internally thanked Wanda because he didn’t have it in him to stop you from speaking.  And that’s when you finally looked up and were met with seven people staring at you. Sam, Wanda, and Pietro were looking at you with a smirk on their face. Peter looked down at his feet. Clint was clueless and confused. Steve wasn’t looking at you, he was staring at his best pal who lied to him about his whereabouts. And Bucky’s eyes were fixed on you and when yours landed on his, he smiled at you and shook his head, telling you that he got you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N? Your shift doesn’t start till night,” Pietro informed, he was clearly teasing you. And soon a sense of understanding came to Clint’s senses when he joined the dots and his eyes widened before a smirk formed on his lips.

“I… I,” you stuttered. Your brain couldn't come up with an excuse this quickly. Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you raised your hands and the packet of donuts with it and excitedly said, “I brought doughnuts!”

“Thank you!” Bucky exclaimed, swiftly walking towards you, taking the donuts from your hand, and placing it on the table. He draped his arm around your waist before leading you outside his office. His friends knew now, he wasn’t going to tone down the PDA in front of them. He just didn't want you to feel awkward or under anyone's subjection.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” you started once you were away from everyone. “I wouldn’t have if I knew -”

Bucky’s lips landed on yours, stopping your rambling. His arms snaked around your waist, pushing you flush against his chest, and you wrapped your hands around his neck. “It wasn’t your fault,” he mumbled adjacent to your lips and you sighed in relief.

“I just wanted to bring you breakfast since we couldn’t have it,” you pouted, flusteredly thinking about the morning activities that stopped you from having breakfast.

Bucky beamed down at you and planted another soft kiss on your lips. “How about I make it up to you at lunch,” he suggested, “I'll bake something for you too.”

You nodded excitedly and were about to leave when Bucky gently took your wrist in his hand. “Doll, text me when you reach home, yeah?”

***

Bucky dreaded going back into his office, he knew he would be bombarded with questions and knowing smirks. He decided to rip off the band and entered the office. “Okay, go for it, ask away.”

“How long has this been going on?” Steve was the first one to question.

“I mean, officially since last night.”

Sam was about to drop a snarky comment when Pietro chimed in. “Who asked who out?” 

“I asked her out,” Bucky answered, and was bewildered. “Why is that important?” 

“I knew it!” Wanda cheered and raised her hand, palms up, towards the blond. “Pay up,” Pietro grumbled before handling her sister 20 dollars.

“You guys bet on us?” Bucky asked and was met with amused snickers from everyone except Steve. Peter stepped forwards before saying, “I had no part in this, Mr. Barnes.”

The twins rolled their eyes before Steve interjected another one of Sam’s almost snippy comments. “She is the reason you attacked Rumlow, isn't she?”

Sam raised his hands in frustration and turned towards his husband. “Come on, babe. You just had to ruin the fun.”

Bucky exhaled and answered honestly, “Yes, but I can’t tell you why. You just have to take my word for it and trust me that he deserved it.”

“Buck, I’m not saying I don’t trust you, but you have to understand where my fear is coming from,” Steve said, “I know Rumlow and I know he's planning something big. We have to be careful. You can't be distracted by this girl, pal.”

Bucky was furious. He did not expect his best bud to say that. Steve knew how much Bucky pinned for you, he knew how much Bucky wanted you. How could he just say that about you after knowing all of this? “That’s rich coming from you after you told me to be happy.”

Bucky huffed in disbelief, his voice filled with venom. “Well, guess what, pal? She makes me happy.”

Nobody dared to intervene between the childhood friends. Everyone knew that Steve was saying stupid shit out of concern, but Bucky couldn’t see it. Bucky would fight anyone for you, even his best pal.

“You attacked our enemy because of this girl that you’ve been with since what — a day?” Steve scoffed sarcastically, and Bucky’s breath was drawn and his fists balled.

“I attacked him because he-” Bucky cursed himself and inhaled sharply. He couldn’t do this to you, it wasn't his decision to tell. You had decided that nobody would find out about what Rumlow did to you, not even cops, and Bucky respected your decision. He wouldn’t do this to you, especially not out of anger and in front of multiple people you didn't even know.

Before Steve could say something, Bucky’s phone vibrated on the table. A text, Bucky assumed it was you, informing him that you had reached home. You — thinking about you made him take a breath and calmed him a bit. He decided he would text you in the privacy of his office, after his friends would leave. He would text you back or better call you when he wasn’t fuming with rage at his best friend, then he would take you out on a lunch date. 

Bucky was about to reach for his phone when Clint finally spoke up, “Steve, we will be careful, okay? We will contact our sources and find out about Rumlow’s plan.”

All the heads present in the office accepted this decision. Sam scolded Steve and Bucky and made them hug out their issues like kindergarteners. Peter offered to make a drink and everyone made their way downstairs towards the bar, leaving the office and Bucky’s phone unattended.

What Bucky didn’t know was that Rumlow’s plan was already in action, in reality, he had even succeeded in his plan.

If Bucky had checked his phone, then he would have realized it wasn't a text from you, instead, it was a text from an unknown number with an attached photo. The picture was of you tied to a chair, your eyes half-lidded with drugs and tears, and a bruise forming on your left cheek.

TAGS :  @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407 @mybuck @priii @coffeebooksandfandom @ladydmalfoy @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy

[violet-knox]

1 I would love to request a story for you if it´s still fine to do it, my request is a smut story with a quiet virgin female reader who is popular with opposite gender mostly because of her attractive physical appareance and for that when she confess that she have a romantic interested in him. He thinks is a lie or a joke to hurt him somehow but when she insist that her feelings are honest and she is willing to do anything.

Beauty’s Curse

Pairing: Young!Snape x Half-Veela!Reader

Summary: As Valentine’s day quickly approaches, you find yourself surrounded by more and more people asking to be yours, but you have your eye on someone else.

Warnings: (SPOILERS) Spiked drink, manipulation

Word Count: 6679

A/N: To be honest, I was a bit hesitant with this request because I knew it would be a rather big challenge. I didn’t want to write anything superficial or cliche, but I thought this would be a great opportunity to break the stereotype of “that pretty mean girl” and show that no one should be judged on their looks, even those who are considered attractive. 

I took inspiration from a situation I found myself in more or less recently, so please do read the warnings before reading this even though they are crossed out unless you really don’t want spoilers. 

Nearly six years had passed and the comments from your peers had never once eased. Valentine’s day had become your least favourite holiday from the never-ending line of people asking you to be their Valentine, each year worse than the last as your popularity increased. You knew it wasn’t their fault, not entirely. You were half Veela after all, something you never dare tell a soul. Rumours went around in your fourth year when you hit puberty, an invisible glow seeming to surround you as you walked down the hall, heads turning as they ogled you in amazement. ‘It was a gift’ your mother would always tell you, but you could never see it that way, especially after you’d agreed to go out with that boy a few years above you last year, finding out his charm only extended so far until his true colours showed. Since then, you’d done everything you could to contain your influence over those who yearned for you, knowing you’d never know true love if the man you ended up with only did so from his inability to resist you. 

You wanted to know what love really felt like, real love not the admiration the Slytherin boys chatting you up now were showing. It irked you how they’d suddenly surrounded you like this, three of them, all taller than you, all of whom were doing their best to impress you. One spoke of his father’s status at the Ministry of Magic, offering to take you anywhere you liked on Valentine’s day. Another tried to persuade you with the offer of visiting his mother’s shop in Westminster; the most luxurious dress shop in all of London he claimed, anything you wanted his mother could have you fitted for. The last boy had the nerve to try and hand over a necklace with the most amount of diamonds you’d ever seen, saying he’d offer you anything you liked if you agreed to be his Valentine. You had to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes, the necklace barely managing to snap your attention back to them as your eyes instead wandered to the end of the hall where you saw another Slytherin sitting on the ledge of a window with his nose in a book. 

You could still remember back when that was you sitting alone somewhere in the castle in your first year, everyone passing you by like you didn’t exist, your own nose shoved in the tenth book you’d been reading that week. Of course, that part never changed, you were a proud bookworm, one who’d much rather spend the evening diving into the pages of a good book than surrounded by people gawking at you. The only difference now was it was much harder to find a place where you’d be uninterrupted, but you always found a way, a small corner in this giant castle to call your own and escape the real world if not for a short moment. 

“Sorry, but I can’t be any of your Valentines.” You spewed a quick apology to the Slytherin’s and pushed passed them, only to watch the boy you’d been intrigued by slam his book shut and dramatically swift away down the stairs. 

He’d seen enough, the necklace turning his stomach into knots as he thought about the stupid bet they made before walking over to you, how they each thought they could buy you over with some luxury he could never afford to have. They didn’t even acknowledge his presence as they spoke, didn’t even bother to notice he’d hung back, that he stood by to watch them get rejected by the person who’d been known to reject everyone since first year. You seemed so kind and of course, it probably helped that you were a Hufflepuff, helped your ruse of being everyone’s friend, but he saw through you. He was the only one that did just as he was the only one to see through Potter. Everyone who was popular with the entire school had a dark side, he knew it, even if he hadn’t seen yours. 

“Severus!” He turned around in surprise as he heard his name called out, unable to recognize the voice. His expression immediately turned sour when he realized it was you who’d run after him, calling his name to get his attention. He turned around and began walking away, one hand holding his books tightly as the other formed a tight fist. “Severus, wait!”

You were almost surprised to see someone so bluntly ignore you, shun you like you were nothing and you knew it was an act of dislike towards you, the way he looked at you making it very clear he did not want to speak with you. Yet you couldn’t help but yearn over him all the more. The only person in the entire school that seemed to see you as just another student, the only person who didn’t look at you like you’d blessed the very ground you walked on and he wouldn’t even give you a moment to speak.

“Severus,” you tried again, finally catching up to him as you placed your hand over his shoulder, Severus nearly twisting your wrist as he spun around, acting like your hand had burned the spot where you’d touched him. “I was just wondering, if you’d perhaps like to go out sometime?”

“What?” Severus rose his brow, wondering if he’d heard you correctly. It almost sounded as if you were asking him out, you, the person everyone in his life compared to perfection, the beauty of an angel, kindness comparable to no one else’s. You who’d chatted with the entire school, made friends with everyone, enemies with no one, would choose him?

“It-it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. But I just thought, well I thought it would be nice to have a chat with you some time,” you said, feeling the heat rise to your face as you tried to ease the tension. Severus' expression only darkened with annoyance as his suspicion of you grew. 

“Did Avery put you up to this? Nott? Or Potter?” he blurted out. He couldn’t believe you thought he’d fall for such an obvious ruse. That he’d be desperate enough to accept your deceptive invitation, and when he found out who it was that plotted this interaction, he was going to make sure they never tried something like this again.

“N-no! Why would you say that?” You looked at him with shock, your heart sinking as you felt yourself nearly knock yourself over as you hit that defensive wall he had built around himself. You knew he wasn’t exactly liked by the other students, that he had a much tougher time than he deserved, but you’d never imagined him reacting like this when you finally built up the courage to ask him out. 

“I’m not falling for this,” Severus shook his head as he dismissed your advancements. He turned around and resumed walking down the stairs, leaving you to your own failure though he wasn’t surprised to see you running after him.

“Severus wait!”

“Tell whoever sent you to piss off!” He brushed you off without stopping. Reaching the ground floor, he continued to walk towards the Entrance Hall without so much as glancing your way.

“Severus no one sent me, I swear,” you tried to make him see reason, to show him you were being genuine, but as he spun back around, his hair turning dramatically with him as his strands quickly settled back into place, framing the annoyed look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t willing to let his guard down for even a moment and consider your intentions to be pure. 

“Really? Then why?” His words came out more as demands rather than a question, but you wouldn’t let it scare you away. You didn’t want to give up the one chance you had at a genuine relationship with someone who saw you as more than just a pretty face. 

“Why what?”

“Why in Merlin’s name would you ask me out when you already have the entire school ready to put their heads on the chopping block just for a moment with you?” His tone made you wonder if he was asking the question out of curiosity for your answer or if he’d already made up his mind, that no matter what you said he wouldn’t believe you anyways. You had half a mind to walk away, telling yourself you deserved better, but this was what you wanted wasn’t it? Not to be run after, try to be bought over in some way? You wanted someone to go out with you and love you for who you were, to resist the natural attraction of your Veela DNA.

“Because you’re brilliant and love to read. Because you aren’t like everyone else. Because you make me feel normal.” You poured your heart out to Severus only to have him scoff in your face, rolling his eyes, clearly finding your words less than truthful. You’d never admit it of course, but you did, in a way, lie. You’d admired him for so long now. All you saw was his good sides, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit such a thing. “Please, Severus, give me a chance.”

Severus stared at you a moment, surprising himself as he actually debated your plea. He wanted nothing more than to believe you, to believe someone would be interested in him in the way you claimed. But it was you. How could he believe the most wanted person in the entire school would choose the most hated? He wanted to get the truth out of you, to embarrass you when you admitted to your real intentions and perhaps that’s exactly what he should do. Perhaps he could get you to blurt out the name of the imbecile that would soon regret trying to mess with him like this.

“Fine. There’s a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. I suppose I can spare a few hours with you.” He agreed to your invitation as he made plans of his own, immediately setting off to the dungeons when you smiled and nodded. You looked almost relieved that he’d finally accepted, almost like you had some other agenda and of course, he’d find out one way or the other. He was tired of the harassment, the humiliation from everyone in this school, tainting it with their insolence and stupidity. This was his home, the one place in the entire world where he could belong, and he wouldn’t let anyone push him around any longer. 

This was the last straw. He was going to make an example out of you and whoever it was pulling your strings. He’d make the entire school regret making him out as a punishing bag, a joke for everyone to laugh at. What more could he lose? His best friend had already abandoned him, his Slytherin peers eager to do the same, only ever defending him out of obligation for their own house. He had no one, nothing to care for except his own reputation. He’d come to Hogwarts wanting to make something of himself, to build himself a future better suited for a Prince than a Snape and that’s what he was going to do one way or the other. 

He made his way to his dorm first, retrieving the stash of potion ingredients he hid under his bed and cross referenced what he needed from the notes he’d taken in the back of his Advanced Potion Making textbook. He had nearly everything he needed, but he knew he could get the rest from the potion’s cupboard before Potion’s class today. It would take some time to brew and he’d probably have to stay up tonight, but he knew he could finish it just in time for his ‘date’ with you. 

 You’d spent all week excited for the weekend. Every day you woke up with a smile until finally the day of the Hogsmeade trip arrived. You were the first to wake, preparing for the day as your nerves grew, your friends questioning why you seemed so happy all of a sudden, but you brushed them all off. You didn’t want anything to ruin this day, knowing they’d laugh if you told them you were going out with Severus. You just wanted to enjoy your date, to be left alone and show Severus there was someone in this school who would love nothing more than to spend every second of the day with him. 

Naturally you’d show up early and of course you were prepared. You sat at a nearby bench with your nose in a book as you usually were when you were alone and despite the crowd that grew with every second that past, Severus had no trouble finding you, rather surprised you weren’t surrounded by people all laughing, waiting to see what would come of your plan to humiliate him today. You were reading Magical Theory, one of the most boring books he’d found in all of Hogwarts’ library, yet there you were, enticed by every word, flipping the pages like you couldn’t go another second without reading. 

“H-hello,” he said, startling you as you shot your attention up from your book to him. He felt his heart racing, his nerves escalating like this was a real date. But it wasn’t, it couldn’t be. He was here for one reason and one reason only; the truth. He shouldn’t be feeling guilty for something he had yet to do, but he did. A sliver of him didn’t want to hurt you, instead hoping that this was real, that you were here because you were genuinely interested in him, but he knew better. How could someone as popular, as liked and as beautiful as you be interested in him?

“Severus, I’m glad you showed.” You gave him the widest smile he’d ever seen anyone give him as you closed your book and stood up.

“I said I would didn’t I?” Severus rose a brow at you, taken back by the enthusiasm in your tone. 

“Yes, but you seemed reluctant the other day.” Truth be told, you half expected to spend the day alone in absolute despair trying to distract yourself in that book as you pretended like you weren’t hurt from being stood up. But he came and he seemed much less defensive than before. 

“Shall we?” He gestured to the group of students making their way down to Hogsmeade. You nodded your head and happily joined him as you walked side by side amongst the crowd. Severus was already suspicious of you and your intentions knowing if he was alone, he would have been called ‘Snivellus’ at least once by now. He felt shielded around you, like no one could touch him and for a moment, he was relieved to feel normal for once. 

“I loved your presentation in Defense last week,” you commented, hoping some light conversation would help ease the mood before you found a place to settle for the day. Severus glared at you in surprise, wondering if you were trying to butter him up or if you had actually paid attention during class unlike the rest of his useless classmates.

“Really? What did you like about it?” Severus questioned your honesty, wondering if he could catch you in a lie before your ‘date’ even started.

“I love how in-depth your research was on cursed objects and your theory of their origin was intriguing,” you said with a smile, holding back your enthusiasm in fear of scaring him away. But you couldn’t help it, you admired Severus and how brilliant he was. You felt the heat rise to your face as you thought about the first time you saw him with his nose in a book, the first time you’d ever found yourself pulled away from your own book. “I noticed you like to hang around the Defense section of the library, is it your favourite subject?”

“You’ve been spying on me?” Your question had the opposite effect that you wanted as you saw his wall rebuild itself around him thicker than before. But you’d never give up knocking and asking him to let you in, to give you a chance and show him he could trust you. 

“N-no, I like to hide in the library at times and I just noticed you were a regular as well,” you said, but you could tell Severus wasn’t convinced. He could almost see the crack in your claims, trying to cover them with some made up weak lie. 

“Why have I never seen you in the library?” The interrogation continued, Severus seeing his victory in his line of sight. He had you cornered and was ready to end the day now when you admitted your true intentions. A smirk began to grow on his face as he thought of the victory at the end of his fingertips. He could almost see the horrific look on the face of whoever is to blame for this day. 

“Pince lets me sit on the second floor overlooking the library, it’s only meant for staff, but she noticed my inability to have a moment to myself and rescued me one day from another mob of people looking to make conversation with me.” 

“That’s kind of her,” he said, gritting his teeth as you slipped away from him, freeing yourself from his near grasp. His lips stretched into a frown as his revenge faded away. The longer he spoke with you the more his hope that this was real grew. You surprised him with your lack of self-absorbent qualities and your interest in what the Hogwarts library had to offer. He never imagined having so much in common with someone with your popularity, always assuming you’d be a lot more like Potter than himself. 

He looked over at you as you nodded, your smile enriching the twinkle in your eye as you gleamed at him with joy. You were so happy to speak with him, to have a casual and light conversation, to share things with him you’d never shared with anyone before. It felt good to open up a bit, to show that other side of you that stayed hidden away when you spoke to your friends or classmates. It was almost freeing, and you only hoped with time, Severus could feel the same with you.

“So, where should we go?” You asked, unsure of what his favourite places at Hogsmeade was. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy a trip to Honeydukes and you knew he didn’t have enough money for the bookstore. 

“We could grab a table at The Three Broomsticks?” Severus suggested as he gestured towards the pub. You nodded your head and made your way over, opening the door and began to make your way to the first empty table you saw. You smiled when Severus pulled on your arm and pointed to the booth in the back instead. He was always such a loner, though you couldn’t help but wonder if he preferred the seclusion now because he didn’t want to be seen with you. You wouldn’t blame him for being skeptical and you were thankful he was giving you a chance, but trust was so important in a relationship and you didn’t want to start it off with an inability to trust one another. 

“Go ahead, I’ll grab us some drinks.” You nodded and made your way to the booth, making yourself comfortable as Severus walked over to the bar. As you slide to the middle of the booth, you began to appreciate Severus' choice in seating, realizing how well hidden you were from everyone, not wanting your day interrupted by someone who thought Severus had kidnapped you and forced you into a date because they thought someone like you shouldn’t be out with someone like him. 

Severus didn’t take long to bring you your drinks, setting them down before shuffling into the booth beside you, grabbing his drink and taking a few gulps. His nerves had finally settled in and he almost wished he’d ordered something stronger for himself. The moment of truth had nearly come and at any moment now he’d get what he came here for, but he was afraid. He feared what the truth may bring him, that if by some small chance you were being honest before, he was about to ruin a love that could have been.

“Thank you,” you said as you reached for your own drink and took a sip. “Not just for the drink, but for giving me a chance as well.”

Severus gulped down the guilt that grew in his chest. There was no going back now. He had to find out the truth, even if you seemed genuine with your feelings towards him. “I was curious to know why you’d want to go out with me.”

He dipped his toes in the water as you both continued to enjoy your drinks and as he hoped, you began to open up to him, though perhaps not in the way he would have thought. “I’ve admired you for quite some time and have been trying to build up the courage to talk to you for a while.”

You put your drink down in shock by your sudden outburst of words. You hadn’t meant to say all that, even if it was on the tip of your tongue. Furrowing your brows, you pressed your lips together, unsure of how you’d lost control so suddenly. You felt like someone was pulling your strings, like they had slapped you on the back so hard, the words just flew out of your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at you, doubting his own abilities and wondered how this could possibly be. He was so sure this was a trick, that you were being deceitful, put up by someone else to embarrass him, but your truth was far from what he was expecting. You were real, you were interested in him, and he’d made a terrible mistake. “S-so no one put you up to asking me out?”

“No of course not. You’re the only person I’ve ever met I felt like I could truly fall in lo-” You clapped your hands over your mouth before you could say anymore. Your eyes widened as you bit down on your tongue, muffling the words you could not believe were about to be heard by him. You looked at him in fear, feeling completely helpless. Your freewill had been stripped away from you and you found yourself unable to control what came out of your mouth. “W-what’s going on?!”

“I-I’m so sorry (Y/N). This was not how I imagined things would go,” he said, his sympathetic tone making it harder for you to stay calm as your heart pounded angrily against your chest. Every fiber in your body told you something was wrong, that you should run, but you couldn’t, you didn’t want to. You’d waited so long to be here, to be in this moment alone with Severus, you didn’t want it ruined.

“What are you talking about?” You let yourself speak just enough to ask for clarification, to give Severus the chance to explain himself, to give you the explanation you needed to stay here with him. 

“I-I slipped Veritaserum into your drink. I thought I could get you to admit this was a trick. I didn’t expect this. I’m so sorry.” You looked at him with absolute horror, your heart breaking into a million pieces as his betrayal sunk in. He’d manipulated you, used you like a puppet when you’d done nothing but open yourself up to him. You’d trusted him like you’d done with no one before, and he tossed that away like it meant nothing. Your eyes swelled with tears, unable to look at him any longer. Your legs immediately swept you from your seat as you glued your mouth shut, trying to escape the prison Severus had trapped you in

“(Y/N) wait!” Severus cried after you in desperation, unable to believe how he’d messed up something he could only dream of having. You were an angel that anyone would have felt lucky to be with and he was the demon you’d chose instead. The demon who’d scared you away from love, from happiness, from a good and honest relationship. He tried to grab your wrist, but his hand failed to hold onto you as your skin, your oh so perfect skin grazed his fingertips. You ran out the door with tears dripping down your face and a hand over your mouth, leaving him deserted. His eyes followed you until you were no longer within his line of sight, running to get as far away from the monster who’d broken your trust, your faith in him. 

Slumping back in his seat, he stared blankly at his hands, the hands that had spent all week brewing a potion that was meant to bring him peace, a sense of power and control over his own life, yet it brought him nothing but an empty heart and crushed aspirations. Your words rang in his ears, the kind tone you took with him, the loving look you gave him all sinking in much differently now that he knew for certain they were real. He looked up at the drink that had ruined his second chance, the chance at a happy life, a life where he no longer had to be alone and swung his arm at it in anger.

The pub fell silent as glass shattered, the drink spilling all over the floor as Severus pushed himself up and began storming out the door, ignoring the calls of the angry bartender who stood over the mess he’d made. Severus ran in the same direction he’d seen you head, but found no sight of you. He had no idea what he’d say or why he so suddenly ran after you without thinking. He just knew he had to find you. He couldn’t give up on the miracle he’d been asking for all his life, someone who truly cared for him, who liked him for who he was and could look past his flaws.  

He looked around and found himself in a lost haze, unsure of what to do next. You were gone, vanished like a figment of his imagination and he was left here to wonder how he’d managed to get so lucky to have the one person the entire school was after fall for him. He looked back at the road back to Hogwarts before he found his legs suddenly jolting him forward as if his body knew exactly where to go. He couldn’t understand what was happening, how he felt like he had no control over himself. His mind was cycling as it tried to comprehend what was happening, how he could be driven on nothing but emotions, his feelings for you pushing him to run as fast as he could back to the castle and up those flights of stairs. 

By the time he got to his destination, his hair was sticking to the sides of his face, his lungs gasping for air as he felt his entire body heat up. His heart pounded angrily against his chest, shouting at him to keep going, that he wasn’t done until he’d found you, but he’d never run so much in his life, never felt so unable to breath, even after the massive panic attrack he had the night after the Whomping Willow incident. 

Looking around the library, he found his way to the door he knew only staff were allowed to open. His hand bolted for the doorknob, tugging on it to find it locked. Pulling out his wand, he tried to unlock it with no luck. His fists pounded on the door in frustration, he needed to get in there, he knew you were in there, he could feel it. You’d trusted him enough to tell him about this place and as much as he was aware you didn’t want to see him, he needed to see you. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Please open the door! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t think- I didn’t know!”

Severus hung his head low as he pressed himself to the door. This was as close to you as he knew he’d ever get again. He’d ruined any chance of a relationship with you and you were right to hide away from him. He was destructive, ruining anything he touched, anyone who spoke with him or dare come near him and perhaps that was why Potter felt the need to hex and curse him every time they saw one another. He couldn’t let it go on, he had to try and mend things, if not to at least make up for what he’d done.

“Please, at least let me undo what I’ve done. I can cure you and if you don’t want to hear what I have to say then I’ll leave. But please let me fix this.” Severus shut his eyes, tears threatening to fall as his forehead met the door. He stood there in silence, wondering if he’d hurt you so bad you’d abandoned the one place you felt safe in this school, if he’d done to you what Potter had to him. He’d become what he hated and was about ready to retreat to his dorm when he heard the doorknob turning, the door slowly opening as he took a step back, his eyes wide as he wiped away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. 

Your eyes met his and you felt your disappointment melt into anger. Your jaw hardened as you locked your teeth together, doing everything you could to keep from speaking another word to Severus. You watched him snap out of your gaze and begin to fumble with his robes, pulling out a small stone and presenting it to you. You stared down at it confused, wondering what kind of apology this was meant to be. 

“It’s a bezoar. I know it’s not the most comfortable solution, but it’s all I have,” Severus offered it to you, hoping you’d take it, that he could try and regain your trust once again. He held out hope as he watched your posture relax the slightest bit, your hand hesitantly reaching for the stone. He wouldn’t dare speak a word or move a muscle until you indicated what it was you wished of him next. From this moment forward, he would do nothing you didn’t ask for, say nothing you didn’t demand. 

Tossing the stone into your mouth, you swallowed hard and groaned at the feeling of its rough texture travelling down your throat. You heaved for air, but for the first time since you ran out of The Three Broomsticks, you found yourself able to relax your jaw, your fear of spilling your guts disappearing. Straightening your back, you looked at Severus who seemed unable to move or breath, waiting for your command to do so as his wide eyes stared desperately into yours. You’d never felt so conflicted, your feelings for him clouding your instinct to slap him for what he’d done to you. You never felt so humiliated, so used in your life. Severus had gone from the person who’d treated you like a normal human being to the one person in your life who’d hurt you worse than you ever thought you could be hurt. But you still couldn’t find it in you to shove him away and lock him out of your life. So instead, you closed the door behind you and stood your ground with your arms crossed, waiting for Severus to explain himself. 

“I-I’m so sorry.” He nearly choked on his words as they came out when he saw the look on your face, the frown you wore. No word would ever be large enough to truly depict how he felt right now and as much as he wanted to say more, all he could do was apologize.

“You already said that,” you mumbled in a whisper, speaking against your own trauma from the truth serum that Severus had given you. He looked so sincere, so desperate for your forgiveness. You’d never seen him like this before, clawing at someone else for something only they could give. He’d always been such a strong person even if others would disagree. He wasn’t presumptuous as he was proud of himself and his achievements, but the person who stood before you now had no pride left to show. He had nothing but regret and torment in his eyes.

“And I can never say it enough. I should never have put that potion in your drink and I wish I could take it back. I didn’t think you were being genuine. I was so sure you were lying to me.” He spoke honestly, hoping you’d have faith he was being truthful with every word he spoke, that you could at least put the trust in him he failed to put in you. 

“Why?” You couldn’t let go of the sheer stupidity of what he’d done. His reasoning didn’t make the slightest bit of sense to you, and if you could understand why he did it, maybe you could begin to forgive him.

“Why? Because you’re you and I’m me and why would I ever believe you of all people would be interested in me?” Severus went on as if the question was an absurd one to ask, the answer so obvious, even a house elf could see it. He wondered how you couldn’t see his hesitation, why you’d ever think he’d simply accept the fact you were interested in him.

“Because I said that I did!” you said bluntly, rather offended he questioned your intentions at all. Never had anyone second guessed you to this extreme before and you didn’t appreciate it in the slightest.

“I know, I just-”

“Didn’t trust my word?” You looked completely heart broken, more so then when you realized he’d slipped truth serum into your drink. He could see trust was something you cherished between those you let close to you and he’d completely ruined his chance at gaining it from you.

“No, I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not after the way the school decided to brand me all those years ago.” Severus had no hope of convincing you what he did was justifiable because even he knew it wasn’t. All he could hope for was for you to understand his hesitation, to understand why he had to do something when you approached him to see if you were genuine in your intentions.

“I’ve never treated you that way,” you retorted.

“I know. I’m sorry and I’ll understand if you’ll never want to speak with me again.” He put the ball in your court, completely at your mercy. Whatever it was you decided to do, he would respect it, but every inch of him begged you to give him another chance, to let him have a proper opportunity to have someone in his life that would care for him, to have a happy ending. But as Severus stared into your blank eyes, he could tell he hadn’t swayed you in any way. It was his fault and as he had nothing more to say, all he could do was turn around to walk away from everything that could have been.

“That’s it?” Severus stopped as you called after him, turning around in surprise as he stared at you blankly. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re just going to walk away? You’re not going to try and fight? For-for this?” You gestured between yourselves with a sliver of hope in your eyes. You knew you shouldn’t have expected much from him, but a part of you hoped he’d be a little more resilient to giving up on you, especially after all that time you’d spent admiring him from afar. 

“I-I didn’t think there was anything to fight for,” he said truthfully, looking at you with wide eyes as he walked back to you. He stared at you intently, trying to read you, to figure you out with all these mysteries surrounding you. How could someone so beautiful fall for him, want to be with him enough you’d be willing to give him a chance at redemption when his own best friend wouldn’t give him such a thing?

You took a step forward, wanting so badly to have all those talks with him you’d dreamed of having, to enjoy spending time with him if not to simply read together and find comfort in each other's company. You wanted to go back and give him a chance to redo the evening, to have it end much differently than yours and if it were anyone else, you would never have given him the chance to explain himself. But it wasn’t someone else, it was him. It was the one person in this whole world who you thought could break your curse, who seemed immune to it.

“Severus, why don’t you treat me like everyone else in this school?”

Severus stood in silence a moment as he thought back to how easily everyone worshipped the ground you walked on, how you always seemed to have a trail of people behind you, admiring you for no reason other than your looks. His thoughts wandered to Lily and how Potter seemed just as enchanted with her as the rest of the school did to you, how he’d only become intrigued with Lily after finding out she was a kind witch who lived in Cokeworth.

“I just-I suppose I just never thought of you in that way because I didn’t know you, and I never thought you’d be interested in knowing me.” Severus tried to be as honest as he could, watching you with hope. He held onto the fact you hadn’t run away, that you’d given him the chance to speak, to hear him and understand him. You were so kind, nothing like he would have ever imagined and he knew if he was ever so lucky as to get a second chance with you, he would never take it for granted again.

“Well, I am,” you said with a smile. You’d always been rather talented at reading people after the absurdity you’d seen from others, and Severus had truly wanted to make amends. You prayed your faith in him wasn’t misplaced, that he meant every word he said and that he saw what you saw. “If you are.”

“I am.” The words flew out of his mouth faster than he could process. He jumped at the chance you offered, beyond excited for the happy life he saw ahead of him. “Would you perhaps like to try again?” 

You nodded your head eagerly, excited for your do-over date. You almost wanted to forget what had happened today, to approach things with him from a fresh perspective. “Valentine’s day is coming up. Would you care to share a cup of tea with me at Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop?”

“Really?” Severus couldn’t believe how kind hearted you were, how willing you were to see the good in others and how tremendously lucky he was to have found you, or more accurately, have you find him. 

“So long as I’m buying this time,” you nodded with a laugh, eliciting a smile from Severus as you began making your way out of the library. You smiled as you finally got to see the real him, the person you grew infatuated with, the boy who you saw hope for love with. For the first time in your life, you felt content, excited for the spark you felt growing inside your heart. You could experience love for the first time in your life, real, pure love and you couldn’t wait to see what more it had in store for you.

[bush-viper-cutie]

I’ll be your Valentine

Pairing: young!severus X reader

Word Count: 7,350

Rating: T for teen

Plot: Severus is humiliated once more by his friends in an attempt to fit in. It was a miscalculation on his part, but he couldn’t have predicted how disastrous his mistake would be. It had taken you days, weeks, months to build up the courage to confess your feelings to your crush, but what did you expect to have happen when doing it on Valentine’s day?

Warnings: Bullying, kissing, slight angst

A/N: Happy valentine’s day everyone! I hope everyone is having a good day :D Wrote this just for today and took some inspo from @violet-knox​’s the Lion, the Snake, and the Locket series, (SPOILER: more specifically the locket! :D )

Posted: 2/14/21

Masterlist

—–

(Y/n) = your name

 ~*~*~

~*~*~ = change in POV

 ~*~*~ = time skip

—–

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Severus was bent over his journal, quill scribbling across the pages at rapid speeds, feather dancing through the air as Professor Flitwick went on and on about the creation of information charms. Words like ‘impossible’ and ‘far too advanced’ only made him roll his eyes. If wizards like the Great Ciera Vela and Sir Wicksley Brightington could create inventions such as the early telling clocks or talking chips at mere fourteen years of age, then who gave Flitwick the right to deem it impossible for a seventh year to create one?

Severus jerked his head up at the sudden bang of the classroom door as it flung open, almost giving himself a horrible headache at the sudden motion.

Flitwick jumped on his stool and turned wrathfully. “Who is interrupting my lecture!” A little man, half the size of Flitwick himself, came storming inside just as annoyed with himself as Flitwick was of him, and held up a bouquet of flowers. “Ah… alright, alright, get on with it.”

The dwarf, dressed in a bright red robe with fake angel wings and a halo too small for his head, approached a Hufflepuff boy on the opposite end of the class. He pulled up his robe, which revealed his real clothes underneath – grass-stained trousers and steel-toed shoes – and took out a folded note from his pocket. “Oh Huegert,” he began in a raspy voice, reading out the poem as unenthusiastically as possible.

Severus groaned and sat back in his seat. His eyes narrowed in dislike at the Hufflepuff who didn’t seem to care that his admirer had interrupted class. As annoying as it was to hear Flitwick squeak away on a tangent about the creation of the type of charm they were learning about, he much preferred it than this.

The dwarf cleared his throat as thunderously as a rockslide down a mountain and bowed, ready to head out after completing his job.

“Psst,” a voice whispered from the back. “Snivellus!”

Severus ignored them, and turned to his fellow Slytherins instead. They all looked as annoyed as he felt and smirked when he caught their eye. The Slytherins had their own way of showing their “admiration” and it didn’t include embarrassing poems or gawky flowers.

“Snivellus!” The voices behind him snickered. “Where’s your flowers?”

“Doesn’t anyone like you?”

Flitwick went on with the lecture and Severus went back to writing feverishly until class was over. He packed his things and followed his friends out the door, keeping at their heels. He pulled out his scarf and wrapped it around once, twice, as the chill from the open arched windows blew through.

“Let’s head down to Hogsmeade. I heard the Three Broomsticks is serving red butterbeer today, bet it’ll taste different.”

“It never does. Not the green ones, or the purple ones – ”

Severus slung his pack over his shoulder and followed his friends down the corridors, out the castle doors, and down the frozen lawn. They talked about food, their significant others, and the gifts they’d given and received. Some had gotten golden cufflinks, diamond pressed watches with metal so smooth it could reflect a candle’s light from a mile away, while others had received nice ties or new shoes. They’d given expensive bracelets with dancing charms, glittering jeweled necklaces, and remarkable earrings that reformed with every wear so as to never be the same twice.

“So how’s it possible to make those woodchips talk to each other from anywhere in the world?” the tallest of them asked.

Severus pulled his eyes up from his scrappy shoes and looked at the Slytherin. He was referring to the talking chips. “They’re cut from the same wood, precisely from the opposite sides of the tree and bound with a complicated spell.”

The Slytherins around him nearly jumped, forgetting Severus was among them.

The tallest one, Zander Ervingwell, whose father owned the Daily Prophet, rubbed his chin and smiled. “That so? Then, could we chop any of these tree,” he motioned at the forest as they walked down the trail to Hogsmeade, “and make one of them?”

The others turned to Severus and he reveled in their attention. He kept his face straight and shook his head. “We could. If we could get the charm from Flitwick.”

Zander nodded thoughtfully. The rest reformed around him and they kept walking down the trail until they reached the popular little inn. They pulled the door open and were met by warmth, the smell of roast turkey, and wary eyes from the students of other houses.

Severus took his seat at the table they crowded around and refrained from ordering the red butterbeer they were all looking forward to. He pulled the strap of his bag over his head and shoved his patched up bag under the table.

“See? Tastes different.”

“I’d cut my tongue off and have Pomfrey regrow it if I were you – ”

Harold Binny and Regis Dunmarten always tended to natter about anything they could disagree on that held little to no importance. They never discussed anything with each other that could ever lead to an agreement, and Severus knew they took after their fathers, who were avid Wizengamot councilmen.

Zander looked to the others, Marcos Jugson – one of the many brothers – who was looking at a group of Ravenclaw girls, and Mumford Wilkes who stared impassively at the dark oak table. Zander turned to Severus. “You think you could make one, Severus?”

Severus stammered. “We wouldn’t be allowed to chop down any tree – And I’d need the charm…”

“If you’re so smart,” Mumford’s eyes pierced through Severus’ defenses and made him want to dissolve into the air. “Why don’t you make one. You’re always saying you can make spells but when we ask to see them they’re never ready.”

Severus wanted to disappear from the very seat he sat in. In this moment he much preferred his usual spot, behind them all, hidden from view of their scrutinizing eyes; but now every one of them looked his way, expectantly. “I can make one,” he said, as evenly as he could muster. They were all rich purebloods who could smell unease and weakness from a hundred yards away. “Easily.”

“You could get in trouble, expelled even, with the way information charms work. Sure you’re not scared?” Marcos folded his arms, eyeing him down.

Severus hated him. Almost as much as he hated Lupin and Pettigrew, but not nearly as much as Black and Potter. After all, Marcos had saved him on more than one occasion with his mere presence. And unfortunately, Severus knew what his words hid. It had been just yesterday Marcos had walked in on him pinned to the ground by a group of sixth years, three standing around with their wands drawn on him while their two ‘braver’ friends tried singeing his eyebrows off. As soon as Marcos had hexed them off, the minute their grubby hands had released his robes, Severus had crawled away behind Marcos.

It was a stupid moment of weakness fueled by fear driven by the sight of the flames bursting out of wands so close to his eyes. A mistake he’d let himself make. Severus clenched his jaw and looked him steadily in the eyes. “Of course not,” he gritted out.

Distant laughter caught Marcos’ attention for a split second, and when he turned back his lips quirked up in a smile. “Why don’t you give us a taste of your bravery then? An assurance you’ll do it.” He jerked his head back, motioning at the table of Ravenclaw girls. “It’s Valentine’s day, so why don’t you ask one of them to be yours? Its only just midday. I’m sure one of them’s not yet taken.”

Severus kept his face even and hands clenched tight under the table, unwilling to let them see how badly they trembled. He risked a glance at Zander, who looked at him with folded arms and an equally level expression. Harold and Regis exchanged similar looks, eyebrows raised, and Mumford smirked. There was always a risk when hanging around certain groups of friends, and this one constantly pushed him to the brink of humiliation.

He stood and made his way around their table to face the crowded space of the bar. Everyone was distracted, talking to other patrons or spilling drink down their faces. There was a stool knocked to the ground between him and the girls who only knew he existed from either rumor or witnessing one of his countless humiliations at the hands of Potter or Black. They’d either know him as Snivellus, or as the Slytherin who knows as many curses and hexes as there were words in a dictionary – although it never seemed to matter how many curses he claimed to know, he was never someone anyone feared.

He took a step, and then another, and kept going until he stood beside their table. He cleared his throat but it was as if he was invisible. He cleared it again and the closest one to him, the louder of the bunch, glared up at him.

Great, he had their attention… Now what? He cleared his throat again, made awkward by their obvious attention to him. “Would… Would you want – ”

“Which one.”

Severus blinked at them. “What? Oh, err… Anyone?” The look on their faces made his own go red.

“Oh? Any of us? Doesn’t matter who?” The closest one to him said, looking back at her friends with raised eyebrows and a smirk, causing a chorus of laughs. “So what is it?”

Severus wanted to turn around and bolt out the door. This had been a mistake. A miscalculation. His friends had lured him into a trap and he jumped right on it. He couldn’t run though; they were still watching most likely. This was about him proving he wasn’t scared.

He swallowed what little of his pride he had left and opened his mouth. “Would anyone want… to be…” All he had to do was say it, no matter how humiliating, how embarrassing this was. “My valentine.”

Done. He did it, now he could turn around and go back to Zander, head held high. He didn’t really care what any of them thought. He already knew their answer before he even got out of his chair. He turned around as they laughed in his face, ready to face his friends and get back to business.

“Wait! Severus!” one of them called him back.

He stopped. Turned. And stared at the Ravenclaw who had stood up. She waved him back with a shy look on her face and his heart leapt into his mouth. He swallowed it down and walked back, feeling his blood rush into his cheeks.

“Severus,” she said, shyly twirling her finger around the mouth of her cup. “I haven’t given you an answer.”

“You’re answer?” He couldn’t help the tremble in his hands now. He started pulling on the loose stitching on his sweater.

She smiled up at him… And in the blink of an eye she snatched up her cup and threw its contents in his face. “Of course not, Snivellus!”

Severus gasped as the cold liquid splashed his face, drenching his sweater. He spit out cherry colored butterbeer and wiped his face with his wet sweater sleeve. He turned away from the laughter, but it circled him. He blinked through red-tinted droplets and scanned the faces of the crowd. It’d be easier to look for someone who wasn’t laughing because every face his gaze landed on was one that made his chest constrict.

He turned to his table, to his friends. They were all doubled over with pure glee, laughing as dignified as they could all while he dripped on the floor, the mock of the inn. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, unwilling to let any more of this scene get stored in his brain. He stumbled through chairs and stools and pushed his friends aside to get his bag. He pulled it free and threw it over his shoulder. He stumbled some more as the laughter continued and threw his body against the door, throwing it open.

He ran out the door, out of the warmth of the inn and into the cold. The streets were nearly empty as wizards settled into homes or restaurants for lunch. He ran as fast as he could back to the castle, not caring about the sting of the wind as it scraped along his skin. His eyes burned and he felt tears begin to form as the realization of what had just happened began to bubble in the pit of his stomach.

He almost slipped on the bridge and as he reached its crest hands gripped his arms, stopping him on the spot. He blinked tears away and cleared his vision, looking up from the ground, ready to fight whoever had stopped him. He didn’t have to tilt his head up very far, easily staring into the eyes of another student, though he couldn’t immediately tell what house they belonged to.

“You almost bumped into me,” she said, releasing her hold on him.

“You should have cleared my path,” he spat.

She shrunk back and gripped the edge of her cloak. “Well I’ve been looking for you…”

Severus stared at her. He couldn’t possibly fathom why. He’d never seen her before, never talked to her before, and couldn’t imagine what she’d want from him. “I’m here aren’t I?”

She swallowed and nodded. “I… I have something for you…”

“Then hurry up,” he growled. It was cold and the butterbeer was starting to freeze.

He watched her open her cloak and noticed she wore a light red dress, almost pink. He wanted to hex it and turn it black from how sick of everything Valentine he was. The cloak pulled back further and she pulled out a single pink carnation with a green ribbon tying a note to its stem.

Her cheeks blushed as she held out the flower for him to take and he couldn’t help but stand there motionless, waiting for his brain to think something, say something, act and do anything other than gawk at her.

“Will you be my valentine, Severus?” she said, as if the flower hadn’t signaled just that.

He noticed his hand moving to take the flower while he remained stupefied, petrified, and perplexed. His heart, shattered and broken as it was, beat with immense longing as he pulled the flower to his chest.

“I… who are you?” He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t asking more important questions like ‘why me’, ‘is this another prank’, or ‘are you real’. He could feel the air changing around him as hope seeped into his soul, giving him a breath of new air that seemed to revitalized and mend the most broken parts of himself.

She smiled and stepped closer, making his breath catch in his throat. He could feel a warmth radiating off her, reaching out to him, banging on his walls, begging him to let her in. Her eyes looked up at his and he felt his legs go weak. He wanted to run, to apparate away and corral his thoughts, but he also wanted to stay and stare back into the depths of hers. It was different the way her eyes looked at him. He couldn’t see any hatred or disdain like so many others had in theirs when their gaze ever landed on him.

“(Y/n),” she said. “I’ve seen you around school and… Well I’m ashamed to say I’ve sort of been hiding from you.” She blushed and looked down at her feet. “Severus,” she whispered. “I’ve had a crush on you for quite a while.” She looked up at him then and gave him another one of her gentle smiles.

He accepted her words without another thought and regarded her truthfully, willing to open his heart to her. Her smile melted him, her eyes dazzled him, and, he realized finally with one long look, she was very cute.

“So, will you?” she asked again, taking another step closer.

He gripped the flower tighter and it finally hit him. She liked him. She really liked him. Someone had a crush on him and – Merlin, she was cute. Could he really be so lucky?

He opened his mouth when he realized something. She had broken his barriers and shields and so he hadn’t had the mind to analyze his surroundings. Laughter. He heard laughter coming closer. He turned and cursed the world for allowing anyone else but her and him to remain. It was the group of Ravenclaws making their way to the bridge.

“I – ” He couldn’t get any other word in before the group had reached the very spot on the bridge they stood in.

The girl closest to them spotted the pink carnation instantly, pointed, and laughed. They elbowed each other, making sure everyone had noticed him and the flower, and stopped next to them.

“Snivellus! Why didn’t you get us any flowers!” one of them guffawed.

The closest one stepped closer and crossed her arms. “(Y/n), don’t let him fool you into thinking you’re special. He just came from asking for any one of us to be his valentine. He didn’t even care which one.”

(Y/n) eye’s filled with tears and she looked up at him, expecting him to deny everything. Severus realized he’d never felt true heartbreak until now. He knew now that the shattering he’d always felt was nothing compared to the pain now, like stakes were being hammered into his still pumping heart one by one, emptying him completely.

He could lie to her. He could deny it all. But that warmth he’d felt radiating off of her… that’s what he’d imagined safety to feel like. If he could only step closer and feel it once more. If he lied, he’d be bringing thorns and barbs into something so precious and delicate.

He took a step closer to her and lowered his head, ready to feel her pull away that warmth she offered him. “I can explain it. Please listen – ”

She jerked back from him and the cold of winter swooped in to fill the air where the heat had disappeared.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

The air was cold and dry, sapping the warmth from your hands that had, moment ago, been as hot as coals from the pure adrenaline that had coursed through your veins. The amount of courage it had taken to finally admit your feelings to Severus had taken you days to carefully collect. You had spent hours pushing away your fears, and now something much worse than rejection was taking place.

Your truest crush had asked out another girl, or many other girls, and your foolishness had landed you at the bottom of his list. Was what they were saying true? You didn’t want to believe it but… he didn’t deny it, no matter how much you begged him to with your eyes.

You closed them shut and sniffed. When you opened them again you marched right through the group of Ravenclaws, right passed Severus, and headed down the road to Hogsmeade. What a fool you were, charming your old dress into one you hoped would turn you into Severus’ dream. All those breaks spent following him around, hiding behind pillars and admiring him from afar, watching how he always pushed his long black hair behind his ear when he got ready to read… Or the way he bit his lip when he paused to think before jotting things down in his journal. You’d even swooned at the way he walked, like a sulking cat trotting from one shadow to the next hoping to remain unseen. You had seen him. You had seen him and loved what you saw.

When you reached the low lamp post right before town you turned and wished you hadn’t. Severus was watching you, with his dark glimmering eyes that very rarely ever looked up from the ground. He never gave anyone his attention, but he was giving it to you now. His large nose was almost pink and nearly-invisible lines trailed down his cheek. He stood there, tall as he was despite always slumping his shoulders, holding your flower to his chest.

You sighed heavily and turned, starting back on your way down Hogsmeade’s cobbled road.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

There she went with his heart in her pocket. Was it possible? Could someone so suddenly appear in his life, shake his world upside down, and then walk away like she hadn’t just changed him forever? Love; now whenever that word would be spoken, he’d only think of her. Kindness; only her face would remind him of the definition. Safety, hope, happiness, dreams; her eyes, her smile, the softness of her curves, the allure of her scent, the wonder of what her hugs could have felt like, and that warmth that had melted away his armor. All his life… he’d never felt that warmth. Not from his mother, not from his friends, and not even from –

He winced as the numbness gave way to a heavy emptiness that hollowed him out. He began walking back to Hogwarts as if nothing had ever happened, except he’d acquired a single pink carnation. With every step he heard voices, familiar and sharp, that stabbed him with words he’d heard a million times before. He knew he was hated, despised, and unworthy of good things. He had just hoped, fueled by the encouraging gentleness of her eyes and welcoming smile, that he could finally be wanted.

~ * ~ * ~

Severus stepped into the common room and pulled on the strap of his bag, hearing several patches groan with protest as the seams threatened to come undone. He headed to the boy’s dormitory and slouched on the wall, unsure if he could make it another step without collapsing. He felt crushed, pulverized, like his life energy had been spent and he was finally coming to an end.

A door opened in the distance and he straightened, staring at the stone floor as his housemate walked by, ignoring him like a ghost in the corridors. He let out a sigh and dragged his feet forward until he reached his room. It was empty, save for a spoiled grey cat which slept on a bed.

He dumped all his things on his bed. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep until he could no longer remember how beautiful her name had sounded coming from her lips. He held out the carnation and rolled its stem between his fingers. “(Y/n).”

He set the flower down on top of his things and pulled his sweater over his head. He threw it into his trunk and toed off his shoes, settling into the bed. If he slept he’d be forced to replay the events of today in some horrible nightmare. He pushed things aside – keeping the flower close – and took out his charms journal.

He could work on the information charm and show Zander and the others how capable he was. Maybe then they wouldn’t try to humiliate him. They’d finally accept him. He pulled out his journal and reviewed his notes. All an information charm really was is an incredibly invasive bonding spell. A spell that tied two things together and forced an object to display information about the other. The telling clocks told its owners where certain people where, and the talking chips merely displayed what their partner chips spelled. As long as he kept it small, it would be easy.

For the next few hours he worked on his spell, thinking about nothing more than the charm itself. He sat on his bed, legs crossed, bent over his journal and books as he crossed things out and rewrote spell after spell. It wasn’t working. Everything he tried was too complicated. He could barely get information out of and of the objects he tried. His quills were too old to withstand the bonding spells, his journals gave too much information. He sat back into his pillows and sighed.

He needed something with more purity, something which he knew he didn’t own. He looked around the room, searching for some sort of unused object, some material that could withstand the spell to even initiate the charm… His eyes landed on the carnation he’d moved to his night stand.

Would he have been enjoying a romantic date right about now? Would she have tried to hold his hand? He would have been too nervous to do it himself but… He held up his hand and looked at it. What did it feel like to hold her hand? It would have been smaller than his, warm, and soft. He would have held on forever and never let go. What was she like? Would they have been perfect for each other? He thought of her smile and of her lips, supple and eager as she spoke…

He sat up fast as flashes of kissing her filled his head. No, he couldn’t endure this torture. He scrambled for new material and growled when nothing he owned fit what he looked for. He got out of bed and looked around, eyes glancing everywhere but the flower. He got on his knees and searched under beds until he found something gleaming and silver flashing back at him.

He rolled up his sleeve and stretched his arm under his dormmate’s bed as far as it would go. His hands found the cold metal and closed around it, pulling it back to him. It was a small necklace with silver metal beads that encased delicate diamonds. He remembered how it got there, thrown aside for not being flashy enough, or expensive enough for his crush.

He held it in his hands and sat back on his heels. It had a round charm, flat as if calling out to him. The surface would be a perfect spot to display something small… a single word… a name perhaps. He ran his tongue over his teeth and felt he was on the verge of something great. All it would take was a single spark of an idea and he could create something grand and – as Flitwick seemed to think – impossible for any Hogwarts student to pull off.

He groaned as he stood and made his way back to his own bed. He set the necklace on his knee, and on his other began to write. It took precious more hours of writing, scratching out, and re-writing until the spell was as condensed as possible; long spells never worked well, the shorter the phrase the better.

Now that he had the bonding spell perfected… what could he use? He stared at the necklace and knew the answer. He sighed and took the necklace in his hand again and began the spell. It was quick to read, and as he moved his wand over the silver metal the air began to shimmer. His lips moved carefully as he focused his intent and finally, at the last word he pointed his wand at himself.

He felt a slight breeze brush his skin and shivered. It was done. He and the necklace were bonded with him as the information giver and it, or more precisely the flat round charm, as the information receiver. He thumbed over the metal and squinted… but no word showed up. The spell was to force the metal to engrave the name of his crush… but her name did not display.

Maybe he got it wrong. He looked through his notes, flipping only the last two pages where he had condensed the spell, and frowned. It is as it should be, unless his logic was somehow flawed… but no, it rarely was. If there was one thing he could count on, anything or anyone in the whole world, it would be himself and his ability to reason correctly.

He stared at the charm again. It could be… He furrowed his brows and pinched his nose… It could be that he didn’t have a crush on her? Not a true one… not like he’d know what that really felt like. But he did like her, very much. He opened his eyes and fell back into his pillows, defeated. What was this even for? Would he really show this to Zander? Was he so foolish to believe Zander would look at her name engraved into this necklace and be impressed with him? No. He wasn’t.

So then… He sat up and looked at the flower once more, as if begging it to give him answers. Was he doing this for her? Did he really think he could fix what he’d done? Right the misunderstanding and win her heart? “I want to…” Then what must he do?

He pushed out of bed once more and dug in his trunk for a new sweater, pulling it over his head. He’d go down to Hogsmeade and find her, tell her the truth of what happened and then… then he’d kiss her. He swallowed and slowed down. Could he kiss her? …If he’d been brave enough to ask out a group of girl’s he’d never met before knowing full well what rejection awaited him, then he could ask out the kind and gentle girl who had offered him her heart so willingly.

He slipped into his shoes and headed out the door, out of the boy’s dormitory, out of the common room and ran up the dungeon stairs. He needed to find her fast before Hogsmeade hours came to an end. He ran through the castle and shoved open the doors, plunging head first into the cold February air. He sped down the slippery grass of the sloping lawn and nearly tripped out the gates. He caught his footing and continued down the trail, huffing and puffing at the exercise and hating the metallic taste in his throat and mouth.

He grimaced as he crossed the bridge and headed right into town. He checked the Three Broomsticks, she wasn’t there. He checked shop after shop, in alleys, behind houses, and even the lake’s edge and under every tree. She was not eating, shopping, wandering, or sitting anywhere in Hogsmeade. “Where is she?” he growled. Of course this is happening, he knew better than to believe luck was on his side. He walked back down the street slowly, and saw the door to Madam Pudifoot’s teashop open. A couple left, laughing and holding each other by the waists.

Severus swallowed. Was she in there with someone else? After she had realized her mistake in liking him, had she given her heart to someone else, refusing to let this day be a waste? He shook his head and looked away. He couldn’t give up hope, not this time, not with something so rare to ever happen to him. He had to believe the best of her, this (Y/n), who had so bravely confronted him and admitted to her long-standing crush on him. He knew very little about her, but he couldn’t imagine she’d give her heart out so flimsily.

He started his way back to Hogwarts, keeping at a slow and somber gait, and made it back to the castle just in time for dinner. He was too late. Valentine’s day was practically over. He filtered in with other students and took his seat at the Slytherin table. Zander was there, with a spot open next to him but Severus couldn’t take it. He had nothing to show him and after today… he didn’t know how he could show his face around him. Severus took a seat at the back of the table with some lower years and ate in silence, his hand in his pocket, thumbing over the cold metal of the necklace.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

You tried keeping your eyes on your friends, on the food, on your plate as you ate, but your gaze kept lifting to the back of the Slytherin table where a gloomy boy with inky hair sat bent over his food, barely touching it. Severus looked sad, sadder than most days. His nose was pink still and his cheeks red. Had he been outside again? In Hogsmeade… maybe… maybe looking for you? You shook your head. Of course not.

All through dinner you watched him eat alone and away from his friends. Had something happened? When you met him at the bridge he looked a mess with his soaked sweater and hair plastered to his head. And that group of girl, who so readily laughed at him… Maybe… maybe he did have an explanation for what had happened.

Your heart began to beat again, slow at first, and then faster and faster as if hope had filled your soul once more and given you life. You wanted Severus so badly, so badly it hurt and, could you really have him? Was it possible to have the boy of your dreams? If you listened to his explanation would he fix everything and give you his heart in return?

You bit your lip and looked up at Severus once more. You wanted him so bad… It was a chance you needed to take.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

As dinner came to an end, students filtered out of the great hall and into the entrance hall, making their way to their houses. Severus walked among them, defeated and empty. His arms swayed limply by his sides and his head hung low, eyes glued to the ground in front of him. He turned the corner and kept to the shadows of the walls. He didn’t want to be spotted or looked at or found by anyone. There wasn’t a single person in this prison he wanted to see, none except for (Y/n).

He dragged his feet as he made his way through the corridor and nearly yelped when two hands pulled him deeper into the shadows. He stumbled backwards and heard a door slam shut. It was dark and the thud echoed off the walls. He squinted and saw nothing. He fumbled for his wand – he always kept it on him, ready for anything – but someone pinned him to the wall.

“Lumos,” a familiar voice whispered.

Severus stared into the glittering depths of warm, kind eyes. “(Y/n),” he breathed.

Her face was pensive as she stood there, looking him over. She was unsure of him.

Before she could say another word he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the necklace. “I-I made this for you… er, well the charm doesn’t work…”

She took the necklace he held out to her and looked at it carefully. “What’s it supposed to do?”

He heaved a quick sigh and looked away. “T’supposed to display your name… er – display the name of my crush.”

She regarded the necklace and gave a breathy chuckle. “Of course…”

Severus frowned. “Of course what?”

“Of course it doesn’t work. You don’t like anyone!” She laughed and stepped back, the wandlight illuminating more of the empty classroom she’d dragged him into. “You didn’t ask out a specific girl, you asked out that whole group. You didn’t care who it was, so long as someone accepted to being your valentine. And I’m…” She closed her eyes and sniffed. “I’m just someone who has a crush on you. That’s all you care about.”

Severus blinked at her for several long seconds. “(Y/n)… I… I want to like you.”

She scoffed.

“No! I mean – I – You – No one has ever liked me and – ”

She shook her head and reached for the door. Severus jumped in her way, desperate to continue talking, to clear everything up. He liked her, he did. She was nice and warm and everything about her made his knees weak and heart pound like crazy in his rib cage. She was pretty, far too pretty for him, and her voice was soothing, and she was perfect, he just knew it.

“Please let me explain what happened,” he begged her.

She stepped closer and placed her hand on the doorknob stubbornly. “I don’t need an explanation.”

She was so close to him, he could smell her hair, smell the piney scent of Hogsmeade blown into her clothes, infused by the wind. He pressed himself to the door and looked down at her. “Please.”

The look on her face told him she was done. She was done with him and she was done talking. He couldn’t keep her trapped in this room no more than he could make her listen. And yet, he still kept on the door, not letting her pull it open. She huffed and before he could think, she gripped his sweater and pulled him away from it forcefully, shoving him back into the classroom where he tripped and fell onto a seat.

He looked into her eyes. She was fierce. Not the gentle, delicate girl she first appeared to be. There was stubbornness and power to her being. No one could control her if she did not wish it, and the only reason she still stood before him was out of that same kindness that radiated out of her.

“I’m really sorry to have done that, Severus. You don’t deserve to be pushed around like that… but I want to leave… and I will.” She turned around and stepped out of the room, letting the door close behind her.

His heart beat harder than ever before. The way she shoved him, with a calculated caution that told him even when he’d gone too far, when he’d pushed her beyond her patience, she still cared for his wellbeing. She was kind, warm, strong willed, fierce, beautiful, and courageous. The more he learned the more he wanted to her to like him…

He sat there and stared at the wall. She’d been so close he could smell her. She’d grabbed his sweater and for an instant he’d thought – he’d hoped she’d kiss him. Merlin, he wanted to kiss her now. To press this fierce girl into him and kiss her long into the night. He didn’t know how to kiss, and imagined he’d be horrible, but every inch of his body told him he was craving her with an intensity he hadn’t ever felt.

He wanted her, and he wanted her to like him. Needed her to like him again. His hands found the ruffled part of his sweater where her hands had gripped it, and he closed his eyes, imagining her hands still there.

He heard the door and his eyes flew open. Someone stepped in and closed it.

“Lumos.”

A wandlight shined and he could see (Y/n) standing there, looking at the necklace in her hands. He held his breath, waiting for her to speak.

She looked up at him and turned to necklace so he could see, although he was still too far and the engraving would have been too small. “It says my name…” She stepped closer. “If this is a trick – ”

Severus shook his head and sat up. “It’s not a trick.”

She stared deeply into his eyes. “Please explain.”

He nodded quickly and licked his lips. “Ervingwell and his friends – they had me ask out those Ravenclaws to prove I wasn’t too scared to make an information charm… I don’t know why I did it. I thought, knowing they’d all say no, it would be an easy way to prove to Zander I wasn’t as pitiful as he thought I was.” He lowered his head.

There was a long silence, one that made him feel worse than he ever had. He really was pitiful.

“May I touch you?”

Severus jumped. He looked up into her eyes and nodded. “You can do anything you’d like.” His own words made him blush but it was true. She giggled and his heart felt lighter by the sound. Her hand brushed back his hair and he closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of her finger on his temple. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I would never mean to.”

Her fingers pulled back. “You’re saying everything I want to hear… It almost seems too good to be true.”

He stood up and slowly reached for her hand, giving her enough time to pull away, but she didn’t. His fingers hovered close to hers. “M-may I?” She nodded and he took her hand, soft and small in his. “I want to be yours, if you still want me.”

She wrapped her fingers in his and looked up at him. “Do you want me?”

“More than anything.” He couldn’t help but glance down at her lips. Did he want her? His whole heart, mind, and body screamed at him ‘Yes!’

He wanted her in so many ways. He wanted to know her, to have her friendship, to feel her caring ways, to feel her. He wanted her touch.

“I want you, Severus,” she whispered.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

You breathed in the feint scent of ink and page. He was so close. His face lingered just above your and his eyes, those deep wells of pure darkness that looked your face over with lust that could not be hidden. You could tell he wanted you, and despite knowing he wanted your touch and, perhaps, to touch you as well, his eyes glanced up into yours with intensity; like he couldn’t keep himself from acknowledging your very being. You no longer felt like just a girl who had a crush on him… You felt important to him.

“I need you,” he whimpered.

Without thinking you got on your toes and kissed him hard. He didn’t need any more encouragement than that. His hands quickly found your waist and he pulled you into him with a wild neediness that made you melt in his arms.

His arms snaked around you and pulled you closer into his body. He was warm and your own hands wrapped around his neck, playing with his hair, pulling it as you pleased. He moaned and stepped back suddenly, and you almost gasped as you felt him falling back.

You opened your eyes but his hands gripped your waist and pulled you onto his lap. He sat in a chair and waited for your arms to find themselves around his neck once more. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, tasting him, biting his lip, moving your head with his. His hands pulled you closer to him and he whimpered once more.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be. I’ll do anything to make you happy. I’ll – ”

You pressed your finger to his lips, quieting him. “Severus… I just want you to be you.” His eyes trailed down and he looked away. “I like you the way you are… You don’t have to prove yourself to me or do anything to make me like you… Just be… Mine. Just be my valentine.”

You brushed a tear out of the corner of his eye and pulled his chin up, meeting his eyes. He nodded and pulled you closer, pressing his face into your chest and sobbed. You held him close, rubbing your hands over his shoulders and back in slow gentle circles.

He pulled his face back to look at yours, as if checking to see he wasn’t ruining anything by displaying his feelings so openly. You bit your lip and smiled. Even with delicate tears trailing down his cheeks, he looked cute and dreamy, as he always did.

“I really like you.” You kissed his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and finally, his lips.

He moaned and closed his arms around you again. “Will you be my valentine?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” You smiled and kissed him once more, feeling him draw you in closer.

“I’ll be your valentine, (Y/n). Yours and only yours. Forever.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

—-

General taglist:

@setsuna-meiou31

@severuslovebot​

@bionic-otp​

—–

[restlessfandoming]

“fever dreams” (chilumi sickfic)

this is in response to a [request] by @tiny-daisy where Lumine gets sick and Childe and co. have to take care of her! 

reverse [campfire in the snow] fic :p (SICKFIC!!!)

i wanted to write this as taking place after [family holiday] so pls read that first! ;_;

thanks for all the lovely responses <3

[Fic Masterlist]

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

“fever dreams” (family holiday pt. 3)

When Lumine woke up, her entire body ached. Why…? She sat up in bed, her head suddenly reeling. Placing a hand on her forehead to steady herself, she felt it burn under her touch. Sweat plastered her hair onto her face. 

Oh no…

Sickness wasn’t something Lumine experienced often. Being otherworldly entities and travelling excessively, she and Aether rarely came down with illnesses. 

I think I’ve been in Teyvat way too long. She and Aether had never stayed on a world for this long. I guess my body finally caught up to me...

She looked around the room for something, anything, to alleviate the pressure building in her head. The curtains were drawn, only letting in a sliver of daylight. She was in Childe’s room; she had taken to crawling into bed with him at night for warmth, and falling asleep in his welcome arms. The Harbinger was currently nowhere to be seen. 

She tried crawling out of bed, but the moment she stood, the room spun, and she found herself collapsed on the floor with a loud THUD. There was a pattering of footsteps coming towards her. 

Anthon opened the door. “I heard something fall—” He looked down to see Lumine, and his eyes widened. “Teucer! Tonia! Go get big brother, NOW!” he shouted down the hallway through the open door. He rushed to Lumine’s side. “What’s wrong?!”

Lumine let out a haggard breath. “I-I think I’m sick,” she croaked. Teucer and Tonia crowded into the room. 

“Lumine!” they cried. All three children huddled around the sick traveler, attempting to help pick her up. Anthon shooed them away, and they dashed out of the room shouting for Childe. 

“You guys shouldn’t get so close,” she said. “I don’t want you guys to get sick too.” 

“But you need help!” 

If they get sick...their time together will be ruined… “It-it’s okay. I can take care of myself…”

They heard another wave of rumbling footsteps and Childe appeared in the doorway, obviously winded. “What-what’s going on?” His eyes fell on Lumine’s slumped figure on the floor and immediately rushed to her side, nearly knocking Anthon over. “Lumine, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice rushed with worry—the most worry Lumine had ever heard from him. 

“She’s sick!” Anthon answered. 

“Sick?!” Tonia and Teucer exclaimed from the doorway. 

“I thought she was invisible!” Teucer said.

“Invincible,” both Tonia and Anthon corrected.  

Childe slipped off one of his gloves, placing his hand gently on her forehead. His fingers were ice cold compared to her burning head, and Lumine also let out a heavy sigh of relief. “You’re definitely sick,” he murmured. He picked her up off the ground—bridal style—and carried her back to bed. 

As he was adjusting the pillows and blankets around her, Tonia scooted close. “Are you going to be okay, Lumine?” Her large blue eyes were full of worry. 

Lumine looked at the children, all their eyes glistening. I’m upsetting all of the children… She gave them all a weak smile. “I’ll be okay…” She raised her arm like she was showing off her muscles. “Just watch, I’ll be up and ready to run around in no time!” 

Childe crossed his arms. “Absolutely not. You are not leaving this room until you are fully recovered.” His expression was dark; it almost scared her. “Anthon, go help your brother and sister make some tea for Lumine.” Anthon nodded, and herded Tonia and Teucer out of the room. 

Lumine let out a sigh, deflating fully now that the children were gone. “I’m sorry for ruining your time with your family…,” she whispered. “Spend time with them. I can get over this on my own.”

His jaw relaxed and he sighed as well. “I’m not going to leave you when you need help.” He sat on the edge of the bed, and brushed some of the hair away from her face. “Try to relax; we’ll take care of you.” 

“No—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “‘No’ is not an answer. I can’t have you dying before our next duel, now can I?” 

She playfully scoffed. “I bet I could still bet you, even like this.”

“I wouldn’t fight you like this,” he said. He brought his face close to hers. “I’m not a fan of unfair fights.” 

Lumine put her hands on his chest, attempting to push him away. “Stay away. You’re going to get sick too.” 

He easily took her hands into his own. “I promise, I won’t.” He pressed his lips to her fingers. “So let me take care of you.” 

It was hard to let outsiders into her life. The only person she could be vulnerable around was Aether, and now, he was gone. 

But here was Childe, slowly making his way into her heart. 

Would it be so bad to let him in?

She looked into his eyes: eyes that were soft, focused only on her. Lumine let herself relax into the pillows, and Childe smiled. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, before kissing her forehead. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” she muttered. 

“Ahem.” Anthon cleared his throat. His cheeks were red (From watching us, no doubt, Lumine thought) and he was holding a steaming cup. Tonia soon joined him with a large bowl, and Teucer held a handful of towels. 

“I brought ice water!” Tonia announced. 

“And I have towels for your head, Lumine!” Teucer said. 

“You guys did that all by yourselves?” Childe asked. 

“Of course!” Tonia answered, going to the bedside table and putting down the bowl. “We remember all the times you’ve taken care of us when we were sick, brother!”

Anthon set down his cup as well. “Here is some herbal tea. It might be bitter. But brother said the more bitter, the more healthy.”

Teucer hopped over, jumping onto the bed between Childe and Lumine, and proudly showing the towels to her. “You just put these in the water, and then on your head, and your head will feel good!” 

Lumine chuckled. “Okay, thank you, Anthon, Tonia, Teucer.” 

“Why are you sick, Lumine?” Teucer asked. 

Tonia raised her hand. “I think I know! It was probably because we were playing outside too long yesterday!” 

Anthon nodded. “And probably because we had that massive snowball fight…”

“Yes, of course,” Chlide agreed. “And poor Lumine isn’t accustomed to our Snezhnayan weather yet.”

Teucer laid down, hugging Lumine through the blanket. “I hope you get better soon,” he said sadly. “Then we can play more!” 

She patted his head hazily. “Of course.” Her eyelids were fluttering, getting heavier with sleep. 

“Okay, everyone. Time to leave Lumine so she can rest. That means no bothering her throughout the day, okay?” Childe said sternly. 

Teucer slid off the bed, rejoining Anthon and Tonia. The three children let out a resounding ‘Aww,’ then left. 

Childe dipped a towel into the ice water, wringing it out, then placing it on Lumine’s forehead. She sighed feeling its cool touch. 

“Sleep,” he told her. “I’ll be right here.” 

She nodded, already closing her eyes, and quickly drifting into a slumber. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Flying. 

Lumine was flying again, no glider necessary. 

She laughed joyfully. She had missed this feeling: this feeling of freedom and endless possibilities. 

Ahead, she saw Aether. She couldn’t believe it. She called out for her brother. 

It had been too long! She would finally be reunited with him!

He turned. 

And Lumine screamed. 

His face wasn’t there. Instead it was a dark mass—the Unknown God’s magic. The mass grew, overtaking Aether’s body. 

“NO!” she screamed, trying to fly as fast as she could to get to him. “I won’t let you disappear! Not again!” 

She was almost there. Her hand was outstretched, her fingertips almost brushing him. 

The dark mass completely took over Aether’s body. Then, it all disappeared in a blink. 

Tears flooded her eyes. “No…”

Lumine started falling, her wings gone. 

“AETHER!”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Lumine sat straight up in bed, breathing heavily. Her heart pounded, loud and fast enough that her ears drummed as well. Her hands went to her eyes, where she wiped away the tears pooling in them. 

“Bad dream?” 

Childe was sitting in an armchair opposite the bed. Lumine could see that it was dark out now, with the crack in the curtain. The fireplace next to him was lit, casting a dim, fiery glow across the room. 

Lumine caught her breath. “I—.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes.”

He regarded her curiously, an underlying...darkness in his eyes again. He stood up, and went to take the towel off of her forehead before checking her temperature. “I think your fever is gone.”

“Good,” she said, relieved. “I do feel a lot better.” Minus that fever dream…

He nodded silently. He paused for a second. Then—

“Who’s Aether?”

Lumine froze. Damn it. She must’ve called out for him in her sleep. 

She hadn’t told Childe about the real reason she was in Teyvat; nothing about her brother had been said, nor anything about who she really was. There was no telling how people would react, especially someone as unpredictable as the Eleventh Harbinger. 

“Aether,” Childe said again, in her silence. “You yelled their name.”

Lumine looked at the fireplace. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She saw Childe’s jaw flex. “You know, as someone who works for the Fatui, I have an easy time telling when someone lies.” His eyes flickered to her, and she felt her blood go ice cold. “But I guess you still don’t trust me.” 

“No, that’s not—”

“It’s okay, I understand, really I do,” he said. His expression became something sadder—softer. “I just thought...I just...Nevermind.” He turned, walking towards the door. “Get some rest.” 

No! Lumine wanted to trust him. 

She was just...afraid. 

But what was more frightening was the fact that she was, yet again, losing someone close to her. 

She stood up quickly out of bed, trying to stop him from leaving. “Childe—” 

Her vision came crashing in on itself, and she started to fall, dizzy, and still sick. 

In a heartbeat, Childe was back at her side, catching her before she collapsed. “Careful! You’re—”

Lumine wrapped her arms tightly around him. “He’s my brother,” she whispered. The tears came back into her eyes, trailing down onto Childe’s shoulder. “Aether is my brother. Someone took him.” Her voice cracked. “I need to get him back.” 

There was a brief moment where Childe was completely still under Lumine’s embrace. Then, he hugged her back, just as tightly—if not even tighter. 

“You didn’t have to tell me,” he said quietly. “But...thank you for trusting me.” 

She pulled back from the hug, and gave him a look of gratitude. He gave her a small smile, and wiped away her tears. “We’ll find your brother. Together.”

Together...I like the sound of that…

Lumine leaned forward and kissed Childe; he joyfully kissed her back. 

After a while, he pulled back. “As much as I enjoy this, you should be in bed, resting.” 

Lumine pouted slightly. “Fine.” She started to get up on her own, but Chlide quickly swept her into a bridal carry once again. He put her gently back on the bed, helping her fix the pillows and blankets. He turned back to the armchair. 

“Wait,” Lumine said, her face filling with heat. Not sickness. Embarrassment. “Can you—Will you—ah—”

Childe raised a brow, the corner of his mouth smirking. “Stay with you?” 

Lumine only nodded once, hoping to curb her embarrassment. The previous nights, when she had crawled into his bed, were all silent exchanges—no questions or comments, just silent understanding. Now to actively ask him? So embarrassing…

Thankfully, he laughed lightly, then slid under the blankets on the other side of the bed, pulling Lumine close, and kissing her forehead. “Your face is hot; is it another fever?” he teased. 

“Shut up,” Lumine grumbled, but snuggled in closer to him. 

She eventually fell asleep again. 

And this time, there weren’t any nightmares.