#i disliked or hated 2 (lock every door + final girls)

[caffeinated-bibliophile]

Why do I keep picking up Riley Sager books

[sevlgi]

what we want

requested: yes x2

group: blackpink

pairing: jennie x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

contents: idol!jennie, idol!reader, pr relationship

warnings: none

synopsis: Jennie’s lost herself somewhere along the way of achieving her dream. Behind that tough, cruel mask of hers, she doesn’t know what she wants, and maybe uncovering the mask you wear is what will help her realize it.

a/n: this is so much heavier than either of you guys asked for asalknasdfkj... but i wrote my longest fic yet in less than 2 days!!!! i think that’s an achievement :D

word count: 6k

Kim Jennie did not have a good reputation, and she didn’t really give a shit about it.

At least, that’s what everyone thought. That’s what everyone knew, with the numerous articles a week about South Korea’s resident fuckgirl, with Dispatch’s 20 cameramen hired just to follow Jennie. She was careless, she was cold, and she care what anyone else said about her. 

What no one cared about was Jennie’s reasoning. Because while the first time sneaking out to a club and losing herself in fruit-flavored shots and skimming touches was simply for the fun of it, it was the aftereffect that made her keep going. Because with the articles of Kim Jennie’s newest scandal, Blackpink’s album sales shot through the roof, YG’s stocks completely flipped around, and Jennie herself decided it was worth it. It didn’t matter if her members looked at her a little differently, like they didn’t recognize her, or if she was the only one constantly excluded from appreciation tweets on Twitter. If acting out would help promote them more than her agency ever did, she could do it.

And she did. For almost a year, Jennie became Kpop’s most well-known idol, for better or for worse. For almost a year, Blackpink’s sales were unmatched by any group or artist around the world and Jennie couldn’t read her Instagram comments without wanting to throw up. 

It took a year for YGE to finally do something, and by then, Jennie wasn’t sure she particularly cared anymore.

“Jennie.”

“Youngshik.” Her voice was scarily steady and her face just as calm; Jennie knew that the her from ten years ago, the teenager who was accepted into the company under Youngshik’s watch, wouldn’t be able to recognize her as she sat before the man with crossed arms and a blank expression. But as he stared at her with disappointment glazing his eyes, Jennie lifted her chin higher, almost daring him to speak.

When he did, he sounded almost cautious of his words. “Jennie, I know you. This isn’t like you at all, you can’t carry on like this.”

“What do you know about me?” She had to keep herself from wincing at her own tone, sharp enough to draw blood. “Huh? You haven’t cared about me for the past year, haven’t cared about us. And who the fuck said I can’t carry on? I’m doing just fine.”

Youngshik shook his head. “Please. Ch-- your members know. I know. All you may see right now is the attention you’re gaining, the fleeting ecstasy you get every night, but you aren’t doing yourself any favors right now.”

As much as she hated it, Youngshik’s words cut deep. She wanted to scream out that she was doing this for her members, for the company, and that it didn’t matter what her reputation was like, but Jennie schooled herself into the person everyone believed and knew her to be. “I’m the only thing keeping you afloat right now. You’re wasting them-- Chaeng, Lisa, Jisoo. They keep practicing but you waste them. I’m only doing what you won’t,” Jennie defended herself, anger seeping into her voice at the thought of her members.

“Jennie. MNet has threatened to drop you from the next season of Queendom.” The man’s voice was quiet but deadly, and Jennie couldn’t seem to open her mouth at the thought of her members’ practice being wasted because of her. Youngshik took that as a sign to continue, “I realize that what you’re doing is increasing sales, but netizens hate you right now. You know that, don’t you? We’re trying to help.”

“Oh yeah? How’re you going to help?” Jennie sighed. “Lock me up in your dungeon again?”

“Quite the opposite,” he answered, leaning forward. “We’re going to keep you in check. The only thing that Dispatch likes more than clubbing scandals is leaked couples, and that’s what we’re going to give them.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back. “And how is that going to keep me in check? Dispatch already knows I like girls, giving me a well-behaved boyfriend isn’t going to be believable.’

Just as the words left her mouth, a knock sounded on the frosted glass pane in Youngshik’s office door, and the man stood. “You’ll see once you meet her.”

Her?

Jennie didn’t turn even when she heard the door open, or when Youngshik murmured, “Junho, thank you for coming.”

“Of course. This is her?”

“This is her. Jennie?”

She finally turned, face impassive, but Jennie couldn’t stop her eyes from widening when she saw the person standing in the doorway. You-- she recognized you, specifically the polite smile you wore on your face as you offered a handshake. She remembered hearing you be praised for your constant professionalism, your sterling reputation, and your bubbly personality. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m a big fan of yours.”

“Jennie Kim, but I’m assuming you already knew that,” she said by way of greeting. You nearly winced at her flat tone, but the mask remained on and you gingerly took the empty seat just by her. “So. Am I the only one in the dark here?”

“Not anymore,” Junho smiled. Unlike Youngshik, he looked pleasant, a smile crinkling at the side of his eyes, but Jennie disliked him nonetheless. “The two of you know by now that you’re being set up in a fake relationship. Jennie, YGE’s main concern with you is your reputation. You club, you drink, you... sleep with people.”

She simply nodded, waiting for the point. Youngshik jumped in, “Y/N, on the other hand, has a stellar reputation. Never has had a scandal in her career, except when she publicly came out, and even that had a good reception.”

“How nice,” Jennie deadpanned.

Junho sighed, folding his hands in his lap. “Miss Kim. Despite your shortcomings and the methods that you achieved such fame, you are nonetheless the most well known female idol in the world. From this relationship, you’ll gain stability as well as a cover, a perfectly sweet girlfriend who’ll lighten your image up. And Y/N will receive more attention by your side, exactly what we want for her and her group. Is that clear?”

Jennie wished she could say no-- after all, you obviously weren’t going to-- but she also knew that the two men were right. She could profit, achieve exactly what she was trying to do, but with less damage done to Blackpink’s image. And as much as she wished she could rebel, she found herself sighing through tightened lips. “Clear. I agree.”

“You didn’t exactly have a choice.” Still, Youngshik slid a contract and a pen across the table, and Jennie signed in the blank without a second glance. “Good. Though we realize that this relationship is fake, we want you to at least pretend to be in love, so get to know each other. It’ll be a while.”

“Great,” you sighed. Jennie was slightly surprised by the hint of sarcasm in your voice, but she lost interest when you assumed a polite smile yet again. “How do we do that?”

Junho exchanged a glance with Youngshik but answered by himself, “If it was me, I’d start with a coffee.”

“Can I order something for you?”

“I’m good.”

Your smile was tight, and Jennie wondered how many snide comments she could make before you snapped. But apparently, one wasn’t enough, as you tugged your mask up. “Okay. I’ll get something for you when you feel like it, just wait for me in that booth.”

Without something to argue about, Jennie could only obey, sliding into the booth furthest away from any people. She sighed, staring at the ceiling; she hated that you were being pushed into the contract to save her, and she hated even more that she was purposefully being so difficult for you to deal with. But the truth was that Jennie couldn’t let you keep her in check, couldn’t let you get under her skin or change her from the way that she had been for years. No matter what YGE said, she was succeeding, and she wasn’t having the worst time in the world while she did.

“Uh. I got you a green juice, I hope you don’t mind.”

Jennie stared at you as you slid the bottle over the table to her, removing your mask just to flash her an annoyingly sweet smile. “I didn’t ask for it.”

You shrugged, “Oh, I know. But I read somewhere that you liked green juices, and I didn’t feel right letting you- letting my girlfriend go without a drink.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jennie cleared her throat when she realized how cruel she sounded, and rephrased it softer. “Don’t.”

“Okay. I understand,” you mumbled, clasping your hands over the iced Americano you held. “So. When did we start dating?” When Jennie frowned in confusion, you clarified, “We’re supposed to have a believable, synced story, right? To seem more real?”

The other girl bit her lip but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Would two months be enough?”

Jennie wanted to tell you to stop pursing your lips when you thought, wanted to make you stop looking so approachable and sweet when you were sitting across from the most-hated idol in Korea. But she shut herself up, if only not to offend someone who she’d be spending a lot of time with. “I think so. We could say that we met at the Gayo Daejeon, since that was three months ago. I asked for your number,” you hummed and pulled out a notepad. “And a month after becoming friends, you asked me on a date.”

“Why did I ask you on a date?” Jennie asked, eyebrows raised. 

“I asked for your number, let’s keep it fair,” you answered with a slight chuckle. “Okay. What would you want to do on a date?”

She considered the question, tapping her nails against the table. “The Han River? Lots of people go in masks, so it’s possible for us to have gone without anyone seeing us. There’s food, nice scenery, we could take pictures--”

“You’re a real romantic, Kim Jennie,” you smiled, pen scratching against the paper of your notepad. “Okay. And we don’t live with each other, since you have a dorm... one of us has to be caught on the route between to make it believable.”

“I don’t think we have to.” Jennie crossed her arms, not moving even when you turned your notepad so she could see. “We just need to be seen in public together a couple times, hold hands once. Dispatch will eat it up.”

You sighed softly and tucked the notebook away. “Okay. At-- at least add me on Kakao. So we can communicate and stuff.”

She stood, tugging her jacket on and her hat down to hide her eyes. “Don’t have Kakao. Have a nice day, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And just like that, with a jingle of the front door’s bell, she was gone, and you could only stare at the untouched bottle of juice across from you or the glass door swinging closed.

Jennie liked practicing with her members. Of course she did-- there was no one she loved more than those 3 girls, and spending time with them was always exactly what she needed. And practice reminded her of better, simpler times: learning a new choreo with Lisa for the next evaluation, practicing English with Chaeng, or asking Jisoo for help with vocals. There were memories in the scratches on the floorboards of the practice rooms, and Jennie liked feeling them every time she stepped inside.

But besides that, it was a secure place. No Dispatch, no cameras, and certainly no PR stunt girlfriends. It was supposed to be her happy place, her home away from the dorm, and the last resort for time alone.

Of course, you had to change that.

“Jennie, Y/N’s here to see you.”

At the sound of her manager’s voice, Jennie’s ankle twisted and she fell to the ground, still panting from dancing. Jisoo bent down to help her up, Chaeyoung and Lisa stopping their practices too. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head towards the hallway outside. “Your ‘girlfriend’. She’s here to see you.”

Lisa gasped at that, her head whipping towards Jennie. “Jennie unnie! You have a girlfriend? Since when?”

Jennie winced and waved Jisoo off before walking towards the door. “I... I’ll explain later. Don’t worry about it, keep practicing. I’ll catch up.”

As soon as she stepped outside, she found you standing there, your smile so wide, as if she hadn’t been so cold to you since the beginning. “Hi, Jennie.”

“Why’re you here?” 

You barely faltered at the tone of her voice, holding out one of two bubble teas towards her. “I brought you boba, I thought you might need a rest from practicing. And don’t worry, Dispatch got the pictures they needed, I ‘forgot’ to put on a mask when I got out of the car just outside the building.”

Jennie sighed, but she accepted the offered cup anyway. She was thirsty; all she could hope was that you wouldn’t take it as a sign to keep coming to see her. “And? I thought we agreed that we only needed to be seen in public when our companies schedule it.”

“Well, I’m not just here for the PR,” you frowned. “You’re obviously opposed to actually dating me, or even from becoming friends with me, but it’ll be miserable if we’re both mean to each other. Let’s at least be civil, okay?”

Why? she wanted to ask. How? How can you be so positive even when faced with me? She pursed her lips, taking a sip of the drink. Somehow, you’d gotten her favorite flavor just right, and maybe the sugar rushing in her blood was what prompted her to say, “Civil. Sure. Thank you for the boba, Y/N.”

“Of course!” you grinned. You startled Jennie when you went to take your flannel off, even more so when you reached out to give it to her. “Here, take this.”

“Um. Why?”

Sighing jokingly, you pressed it into her hand. “Next time, you’re coming to see me. If you wear this while you’re caught on film, it’ll raise a lot of suspicions. Exactly what we want, right?”

Jennie nodded at that, closing her fist around the fabric. “Right. So, are you... planning to watch us practice?”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head, waving your hands. “No, I’ll probably just hang around. Unless you want me to?”

Some tiny, annoying section in the back of her mind wanted to say ‘yes’, but Jennie could hear Chaeyoung laughing in the practice room, and the thought of introducing you to her members wasn’t exactly appealing. “No. That’s okay. Thank you for stopping by,” she attempted a smile. Thankfully, you just bowed and waved goodbye again before turning around the corner, and Jennie relaxed with a sigh.

But your smile lingered in her mind. The first time she saw you, she thought it was genuine-- maybe you were just that polite, just that professional, even with how impossible it was. But talking to you on her own, she saw too many false grins, too much effort being put into keeping that likeable, fun personality up.

Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was lying, but that fact did nothing but scare her more. 

“So. Are we gonna talk about Y/N?”

Jennie sighed, keeping her eyes on the road. “No.”

“Really? Because you didn’t exactly look happy after talking to the person who’s supposed to be your girlfriend.”

The rapper raised her eyebrows even though Jisoo couldn’t see it over the phone. “Well, she isn’t exactly my real girlfriend.”

In the background, Chaeyoung asked, “What? Then why did our manager say she was?”

“It’s a PR stunt,” Jennie said bluntly. Her manager sighed in the front seat but didn’t speak. “That’s it. Y/N has a good reputation, I don’t. I’m in the biggest girl group in the world, she isn’t. We’re benefiting from each other.”

Lisa groaned into the phone, her voice tinny over speaker. “Is that seriously it? I only heard you guys talking, but she’s trying so hard, and you’re shutting her down. It could be good for you, unnie.”

Jennie pinched her nosebridge and pleaded, “Can we please not talk about this? I’m just doing this-- it’s a PR stunt. Nothing else to it. I gotta go anyway.” She ended the call before anyone could say something, leaning back and pressing her hands to her eyes.

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this, Jennie.”

“Please. Shut up,” Jennie groaned, reaching for the flannel on her lap as the car lurched a stop. The smell of perfume swept over her as she tugged the clothing on, leaving her mask off but donning the sunglasses that she’d been paid to wear. “Thank you for driving me, I’ll see you in half an hour.”

Her manager called out, “One hour. Try to have fun, okay?”

It wasn’t like Jennie couldn’t hear the click of cameras following her as she buzzed herself into the apartment building, couldn’t see the flashes half-hidden in the surrounding bushes. But she schooled her expression and let herself into the building, engulfed in silence once again for the 7 minutes before she reached your apartment door.

“Hi, Jennie,” you greeted when you opened the door. It was disarming to see that perfectly crafted, perfectly kind expression, but Jennie followed you inside anyway.  To be honest, the way you decorated your apartment was almost a perfect reflection of the you that you presented-- sweet, comfortable, but a completely blank slate that could be arranged easily. No pictures decorated the walls, just like how your easy smile never left your face, and the only things on your expensive glass shelves were awards and your own albums. But you smiled, “The flannel looks good on you.”

“Thanks. You can have it back,” Jennie mumbled, peeling it off and draping it over one of the acrylic chairs that tastefully decorated your living room. “It’s a nice place. You’re lucky to live alone.”

You hummed, clearing a pile of papers off the couch so that she could sit. “Sure, I guess. It’s a lot lonelier than the dorm, but it is nice to have all the space to myself.”

“Right.” She sat obediently and accepted the petite cup of coffee that you pushed towards her. “So, what are we supposed to do for an hour?”

“I thought we could watch Netflix and grab some takeout,” you chuckled embarrassedly, reaching for the remote. “I can’t really cook, but I’ll pay for anything you want to order.”

Jennie should’ve asked for pizza, jajangmyeon, something inexpensive but universally enjoyable. But the more she looked at you, the more she realized that for all your effort, nothing she did could possibly break you. Making dinnner for you once, even becoming friends with you and pulling away again, wouldn’t change anything when everything she saw of you was... false. So she stood, made her way to the kitchen, and opened to the fridge. “I can cook. What have you got?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you protested and followed her over. “I’m serious, I can pay for anything you want.”

The rapper ignored you and frowned at a tub of kimchi. “How does kimchi jigae sound? You’ve got close to nothing in here.”

You were silent for a moment, but sighed and moved to open your cupboards. “Kimchi jigae sounds great. You’re going to be carrying this dinner, I hope you know.”

“That’s no problem,” Jennie chuckled, turning to you slightly. “By the way, have you got any soju?”

“I thought you’d have a better alcohol tolerance.”

“Why?” Jennie groaned, head clutched in her hands. The steam from the cup of coffee that she convinced Chaeyoung to buy for her was absolutely going to melt her makeup, but under the LED lights of the waiting room, she wasn’t sure she cared.

Lisa sighed and patted her shoulder softly as she passed by. “I mean, wasn’t there a month where you went to a different club every night? It’d be weird if you did that completely sober.”

Jennie frowned; she wished she could tell Lisa that she actually spent every night of that month huddled in the corner with a mocktail, hoping to the heavens that Dispatch didn’t burst their way inside and find her hiding. But she shook it off and replied flippantly, “Drinking a lot doesn’t increase everyone’s tolerance, believe it or not. Maybe Y/N just had really strong soju.”

Before the dancer could respond, Jisoo opened the door and popped her head inside. “Hey, guys, they’re ready for us to start filming. And, Jen-- you have a visitor.”

“Who?” she groaned in answer, struggling to her feet and wincing as she removed her sunglasses.

Her question was answered as she reached the stage, finding a familiar face among the camera directors. “Y/N?” she squinted.

“Hey, Jennie!” you shouted with your hands cupped around your mouth. The smile on your face was a little wider than usual, poked into your cheeks differently. It was pretty, Jennie realized, and more genuine. “Good luck!”

Before she could ask what you were doing, huddling with the cameramen while she prepared to film her first Queendom stage, she was called up on stage. But for once, Jennie could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she got into formation, a smile that she hadn’t been able to pull off for a while.

You startled her by cheering her name just before filming began, and inciting laughter from the crew. Some warm flower blossomed in her chest as Jennie spoke her first line, her voice more steady than it had ever been during practice.

As soon as she finished the first attempt at the group shot, Jennie bent down at the edge of the stage and beckoned you forward. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m cheering you on, of course.” Jennie found a banner with her name on it in your hands as you approached, the tip of your nose cold from the air-con in the studio. “You did great.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled softly, feeling the banner between her fingertips. “Where’d you even get this?”

You shrugged, “Bought it. I had to make an account and all, so you better be feeling more energized.”

“I am.” Jennie herself was surprised at how true the statement was; for some reason, seeing your dyed hair in the crowd of cameras was like a shot of pure adrenaline, just more intense and gratifying. She smiled, “I am. It’s really nice of you to come, Y/N.”

“Of course,” you said, waving the banner around with a grin creasing in the corners of your eyes. “We’re girlfriends, after all. And I’m your friend.” At the call of a director, though, you stepped back. “I should let you film.”

“Y/N?” Jennie called after you. When you turned to face her again, Jennie allowed her customary gummy smile to take over her face as she said softly, “You can call me Jen. All my friends do.”

You were too far away for her to hear your answer, but the excited little jump you made as you walked back to your spot kept the grin on Jennie’s face as she stood again. She missed the relieved glances her members exchanged behind her back, but she could feel a new kind of energy coursing through her as the director started his countdown again. And-- she kind of liked it.

You hated the popular belief that idols who presented the sweetest, kindest version of themselves to the internet got absolutely no hate. Fans, family, managers-- they all believed that never letting your smile slip and never having a single scandal would protect an idol completely. When you were deciding on your persona for your debut, you thought the same, and so you forced yourself into the happy, positive personality that the world knew.

However, for all your effort, for all the things you had to endure with that same smile on your face, people hated you. They called you fake, tried their best to get under your skin just so they could see you fall. But it was too late to fight back, because that wouldn’t become the kind, sweet Y/N. It was too late to ask for help, and it was too late to let yourself cry. 

When you met Jennie, you were determined to keep her on the outside of that precious mask you could never remove. After all, what would she understand? She did what she wanted to, didn’t care what people said about her, and she was strong. Jennie was as strong as you wished you could be, and you were sure that she would never understand. But the more that you saw her and the more that you talked to her, the more you understood that you were one and the same. That tough, carefree version of Jennie was what protected her, just like your perfectly engineered smile.

The first time you saw Jennie laugh, you knew that you were in deep. She didn’t know a single thing about you, but she was letting her walls down and letting you in-- or at least, the you she knew. But you liked her smile so much that you wanted to keep it there, at any cost. And maybe it meant sacrificing yourself.

“Are you ready?”

“For what? Walking through the street, undisguised enough that Dispatch will recognize us but no one else will?” At your pout, Jennie stopped her grumbling and laughed softly, still adjusting her scarf in the car mirror. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

A beat of silence passed as she grabbed your hand and led you out of the parking garage and onto Garosu-gil. “Hey. Y/N, I want to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I... I’m glad it’s you.” Jennie squeezed your hand, her skin slightly cold with the wind blowing softly around the two of you. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.”

You wished that she wouldn’t say that. You wished she’d feel anything else towards you-- contempt, hatred, even, despite everything you’d gone through just to become civil. But you squeezed back, flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Me too. You know, it’d be a lot worse if they set me up with a guy.”

“Why would they?” Jennie frowned in answer. “You came out on your own.”

“Unlike you, I didn’t prove it. You know Korea, you aren’t gay until you prove you are,” you sighed, scuffing your shoes against the cobblestones. “They wanted to set me up with a guy at first, but they decided that accepting YG’s offer for me to date you would be more beneficial.”

The other girl paused, and you didn’t quite dare to look up. “Oh. So you didn’t choose to help me, did you?”

You shook your head quietly, expecting Jennie to react badly. But she huffed out a breath and pushed your arm softly. “That’s okay. We’re friends, anyway, and it was hard for you to get us here already. I appreciate you, you know.”

Opening your mouth to respond, you noticed yet another camera flash, just between two buildings ahead of you. “What?” Jennie asked, following your gaze.

“I-- Don’t hate me for this, okay?” you whispered, stopping in the middle of the road. Before she could say anything, you placed your hands lightly on her jaw, pulling Jennie towards you; before your lips actually met, though, you gave her a second to pull away. Instead, she leaned forward just the slightest bit, barely enough to connect.

You didn’t quite dare to move, but Jennie’s hands rested on your waist and pulled you into her, just enough that your lips slotted together. You could barely hear the clicks of the camera, the warmth of the girl that you were kissing completely clouding your brain.

Before anything else happened, you released your grip and stepped away, lips suddenly cold. “I think that’s enough,” you whispered, linking your hands again and lowering your head.

Jennie laughed breathlessly and continued to stroll along when you prompted her to. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Um. Sorry?”

She only giggled harder at that, shoving you slightly. “What are you even sorry for? You’re a good kisser, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, heat rising to your ears as you shoved her back. “How do you even say that with a straight face?”

“Hey, I had to listen to Lisa say ‘bitch I’m a star but not Patrick’, I think I can handle this,” Jennie joked. Despite all your effort not to, you found yourself staring at her smile again, losing yourself and any other worries bothering you in it, and her, once again. 

Jennie frowned at her phone-- or actually, at the blankness of her texting history with you. After the little PR stunt at Garosu-gil, you hadn’t contacted her once, and she didn’t dare to surprise you at your apartment or properly ask you what was going on. 

“Haven’t you heard the saying that a watched kettle never boils?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a pot,” Jennie replied listlessly, still staring at her screen. “But I have heard it, yes. I’m just hoping the universe proves it false.”

Chaeyoung sighed and hugged her older member from behind, swaying back and forth. “Why don’t you just message her? Or go see her? Our manager won’t say anything about it if you just say it’s for PR.”

“It is,” Jennie frowned, turning to her member. The Australian girl raised an eyebrow, and Jennie bit her lip. “Okay. Maybe it isn’t.”

“It definitely isn’t,” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. “I saw those kiss pics, you know. And no one kisses like that if it’s ‘just PR’. You like each other, unnie, and it’s time to face it.”

Jennie swatted Chaeyoung’s arm. “That’s so cheesy, shut up. But... do you really think I like her?”

“That’s a question for you to answer,” the younger girl pointed out. “But I’ve known you for close to a decade. If I’m right about this, and I’m sure I am, everything’s about to change for you.”

“Ugh, cheesy again,” Jennie groaned, but she stood hesitantly nonetheless. “But... I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

On her way down the stairs, the rapper dialed her manager on her phone and held it up to her ear while she waited for the dial tone to fade. “You’re driving me to Y/N’s house,” she said by way of greeting. “And it’s not just for PR.”

She was sure that no car ride had ever gone slower; Jennie fidgeted the entire way, cursing every bus that blocked her way and scowling as the sun began to set behind a set of buildings in the distance. The more she thought about it, the more definite it was-- she liked you, more than she thought she could like a person. And while that fact would’ve scared her, should’ve scared her, it didn’t. Because it was you, and nothing about you could scare her anymore.

Somehow, the process of buzzing herself in at the building’s front, taking the same elevator up to the 67th floor, and hurrying her way down blue-carpeted hallways had become familiar. Jennie knocked persistently on the door of your apartment and called out, “Hey, Y/N, let me in. It’s Jennie.”

It took a while for anything to happen, and Jennie was almost backing away by the time that the door finally cracked open. For once, the smile on your face was missing, replaced by a guarded, harsher expression than the other girl was used to seeing. “Jen. What’s up?”

“Uh,” she hesitated, “can I come in? I don’t think we can talk in the hallway.”

You looked like you wanted to say no, but with a pleading look from Jennie, you backed away and let the door swing open. Jennie shut it quietly, following you into the living room, where you stood with your arms crossed. “So. What can’t we talk about in the hallway?”

Jennie wanted to say outright the words that were beating in her throat, but the expression on your face alarmed her. You were like a stranger-- or, maybe, she realized that you had finally let your mask down. “I... Y/N, are you okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you responded. Suddenly, the roles were reversed;  Jennie was the one reaching out for you, maybe even chasing after you, and you were somehow the one who was turning away.

“Okay,” Jennie said quietly. You were about to turn away, probably assuming that she was going to leave, but if Jennie had learned anything from you, it was that she couldn’t give up that easily if she wanted you to open up. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you responded instantly. Your words only hurt more when you didn’t look up from the television, continuing, “I don’t want you, and I don’t want anything from you--”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” Anger was once again rushing through Jennie’s veins, though not the kind of anger she was used to experiencing. No, she wasn’t mad at your words in the slightest, or even offended-- she was simply pissed off about the fact that you were shutting her down, and she didn’t know why. “Not when you were the one who started this. Y/N, you wanted me once, you don’t get to go back on that without an explanation,” Jennie gritted her teeth, gripping your forearms in her hands.

You finally turned when she shook you lightly, your face blank. “What, I don’t get to shut myself down? You did it the entire time I was trying, giving my all so that you’d talk to me or even just be civil.”

Jennie pleaded, “You succeeded, didn’t you? You’re right that I was a total bitch when all you were trying to do was be nice and make this tolerable for the both of us, but you succeeded. Okay? You-- you’ve made your place in my heart, and I’m not even angry about it. I just... I just like you that much.”

A derisive scoff escaped your lips as you twisted your arms out of her reach, stepping away. “You like me? Jennie, you don’t even know me. This me, the smiles and boba and everything, it’s a facade.” You threw your hands up in the air, biting down on your lip before sighing out, “It’s fake. All of it.”

“I know it isn’t,” Jennie shook her head desperately. She searched your eyes, scanned the sea of the color she’d grown to love, for some semblance of the person she remembered kissing her. “Look, you kissed me. And I know it was for the cameras, but you can’t tell me that you felt nothing from it. Y/N, you’re a good liar, but you can’t lie to me, not about this.”

You were quiet at that, glancing down at the floor as if you had nothing to say. “I didn’t,” you finally answered, tone firm. “Maybe you did, but I--”

Unable to stop herself, Jennie rushed forward again and tugged you into another kiss, her hands scrunching into the hair splayed over your shoulders. She was almost afraid that you’d push her away, curse her and throw her out of your apartment, but she felt your lips moving against yours. She felt your hands splay on her back, and she felt tears slipping down your face.

When you finally did push her away, it was gentle, though you were rough when you wiped the tears off your face. Jennie wished you’d speak first, but she brought herself to speak. “If your smiles were fake, think of the real ones you brought to me. Even if my smiles were from your facade, that’s still a part of you. I know that though you weren’t trying to, you let me see the real you. And I’m willing to see the rest of you,” Jennie smiled, clasping your hands within hers. Sometime along the way, she’d started crying too, but the salt of those tears was almost honeyed on her lips. “If you want me to.”

“I do,” you sighed, accepting the kiss that Jennie pressed to your forehead with a teary smile. “I want nothing more than that, Jen. And-- I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she laughed, wiping the tears of your face so much gentler than you did. “I know what I want now. It’s you, and it has been you since you tried buying me a green juice in that damn coffee place. I like you, Y/N. So much.”

You tucked your face into the crook of her neck and snaked your arms around her waist again. “I like you too. More than I ever thought I could.”

And maybe, just maybe, you knew what you wanted too. Somehow, that mask you wore had long been tossed to the side. Somehow, each kiss pressed to your face by the girl you never knew you needed to find lingered on your skin like the touch of a miracle, and the smile on your face was finally, finally genuine like you had always wanted it to be.

[seita]

— you love too easy | hitoshi shinsou (m.)

pairing: hitoshi shinsou/f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 𝟾𝟹𝟾𝟶

cw: childhood friends!au, roommate!au

tags: unrequited love, pining, toxic relationship (oc x shinsou), brief kaminari x reader, cunnilignus, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, fingering, size kink, loss of virginity, light virgin kink, creampie, squirting, angst with a happy ending

note: sorry if u like kaminari. i made him a huge douchebag in this. i swear i like him i just needed a character to be,,,,well, a douchebag.

— all your life you'd been by his side. you've loved him since you could remember. you've always been by his side so why did he give his heart away to everyone but you; the one who would treat it right?

⇦ back to navigation

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.  

He fell in love too easily. You knew that your entire life. He’d give his heart away to anyone and everyone, fully and with everything he had. He loved with every fiber of his being. And it always ended in disaster. 

You couldn’t count how many nights you’d spent by his side rubbing his back as he cried because his girlfriend lied to him, comforting him as he hunched over a toilet after crying himself sick because his girlfriend cheated on him, or forcing him to eat because he got so depressed after she ignored him. 

It was an endless cycle. 

Yet you were always there to build him back up -- to pick up the pieces. 

Ever since the first girlfriend he had in Kindergarten that lasted for 2 days and ended in his tears up to the girl he dated in senior year of highschool who cheated on him with her ex...you were the one to fix him. 

Yes, Hitoshi Shinsou fell in love far too easily and way too hard.

The thought that kept you awake every night, however, was why couldn’t it be you? You were the one who took the best care of his heart -- being the one to piece it back together every time it was broken. He didn’t need to love anyone else. If he just loved you, he would never have to worry if he just gave his heart to you. 

But he never would. 

Because he didn’t love you like you loved him. 

You’d known him since you were babies -- your parents were friends in highschool and it went on well into adulthood. 

Naturally, the two of you grew close -- it was inevitable. Your crush on him developed in childhood -- you two got lost in the mall after you strayed away and he kept you safe and calm until you found your parents, his hand clasped tightly around yours as he let you cling to him. That was the first time you realized he made your cheeks feel warm and your tummy fluttery.

Your parents always joked that the two of you would fall in love and get married. It was nearly impossible for that idea not to be imprinted in your mind. 

Except, it was never an idea he entertained. 

Part of you felt foolish. You were a grown adult with a crush that you’d harbored since childhood -- pathetic, one-sided crush at that. 

The thing was, unlike Shinsou, you’d never dated before. It was never something you desired. Sure, you had confessions and love letters but you’d never once accepted them. You just couldn’t see yourself being with anyone but him.

Upon graduating, the two of you realized how terrible it was to be 18 trying to make it in the adult world. After a few years of fumbling and nearly getting kicked out by not making your rent payments on time, you decided that rooming together would be the best idea. 

It was a foolproof plan; you’d known each other for your whole lives so it wasn’t like you’d suddenly hate each other, you knew he was responsible with his money and you were too, and he was a quiet, chill guy so there wouldn’t be any obnoxious ruckus. 

What you didn’t think about, however, was him bringing girls home. 

“This is Aoi,” he introduced, motioning to the smiling girl beside him, “Aoi, this is _____...she’s my best friend.”

“And his roommate,” you added, holding your hand out politely.

“Oh you...live together?” you didn’t miss the distaste in her tone as she reached out to give you a weak handshake, pulling away as quickly as she could. She immediately wrapped her arms around his and he leaned how to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

Ouch. That made your heart hurt. 

Of course, it was nothing new. This was something you’d been through time and time again. 

What you hadn’t accounted for, was her dislike of you. Naturally, his past girlfriends hadn’t always been fond of you -- after all, you were a big part of their boyfriend’s life. And jealousy was a fickle disease. 

But Aoi’s dislike bordered on hatred and disgust over you. Every chance she got, she was pulling Shinsou away from you with some thinly veiled excuse. It seemed your best friend was none the wiser as well. 

You couldn’t blame him -- he was in love. Unfortunately. 

Aoi’s glares were ice cold, often sending shivers down your spine when she set it upon you. It was uncomfortable to say the least. She was at your place often enough for you to take up the art of avoiding her.

That is until one day when things seemed to come to a head for her. You weren’t sure what  you did but you found yourself cornered in the kitchen one evening while Shinsou was taking a shower -- leaving just the two of you alone. 

“Listen to me,” Aoi spat, arms crossed over her chest, making her look petulant, “You need to back off of Toshi.”

“Uhh...what?” you grunted, looking up from the glass of chocolate milk you were pouring.

“Stay away from him!” she spat.

“We literally live together,” you rolled your eyes, capping the pint of milk, “I can’t stay away from him.”

“You know what I mean,” she hissed, clearly pissed off by your sarcasm. She marched up to you, grabbing your upper arm in a vice grip, her acrylic nails pinching your skin, “I see the way you look at him. I know that look in your eye. You love him.”

Your mind blanked, mouth opening but failing to produce any words. She smirked smugly, stepping back and crossing her arms again.

“I…” your brows came together as you shook your head, finally putting the milk away.

“I knew it,” she huffed, “You can’t take him from me. Toshi is mine so you better remember that. You have no idea what I can do to you.”

With that parting threat, she stormed out of the kitchen back to Shinsou’s bedroom. You felt tears sting your eyes, feeling utterly humiliated by her. 

Another thing about Hitoshi Shinsou is he’s terribly dense sometimes. You had no idea how he managed to miss the horrifying tension between you and Aoi. But he somehow did. 

The three of you sat in the living room -- the two of them cuddled on the couch while you curled up under a throw blanket with your phone open to Twitter on the loveseat. They were watching some movie Aoi picked out that you knew Shinsou hated, but he watched it anyway. The thought made you bitter.

You’d never make him watch movies he hated. That’s just selfish. 

You let out a sigh, catching your best friend’s attention immediately.

“What is it, darlin’?” he asked, the usual pet name he used for you making your stomach flutter. Aoi’s eyes narrowed in distaste at it but he paid her no mind.

“Oh, I’ve just got a bit of a headache,” you mumbled, locking your phone to look over at him.

He frowned, concerned, pulling his arm from around his girlfriend’s shoulders. She whined at the loss, attempting to pull him back but he paid her no mind.

He disappeared from the living room to the kitchen. You could hear the refrigerator open before he began shuffling around the cabinets.

“You’re not slick,” Aoi hissed, keeping her voice low, “Why don’t you just go away. Don’t you think he’d prefer to be alone with his girlfriend? You’re just a third wheel.”

You didn’t get to reply before Shinsou returned, holding a glass of your chocolate milk and a couple pills. He smiled, handing everything to you before taking a seat with Aoi again. She immediately clung to him with a whine.

“Thank you Toshi,” you smiled, popping the pills in your mouth before taking a quick gulp of the milk. 

“Anytime, darlin’” he smiled, turning his attention back to the movie he hated. 

Part of you felt prideful that he was willing to pull himself away from his girlfriend to take care of you. She clearly saw you as competition and you couldn’t deny the giddy feeling it gave you when you proved to her that you meant something to Shinsou. 

You noticed very quickly when Shinsou stopped calling you by his nickname. It baffled you and you didn’t hesitate to bring it up to him.

“Ah, Aoi mentioned she doesn’t like it when I call other girls pet names,” he rubbed the back of his neck in that familiarly anxious way of him. He was avoiding your gaze, further ticking you off.

“I’m not other girls, Hitoshi,” he visibly cringed at hearing his full name, “I’m your best friend. You’ve always called me that.”

He sighed, biting his lip, clearly torn, “Sorry _____,” you frowned at the sound of your name. It seemed so foreign hearing it where he’d usually call you ‘darlin’’, “She is my girlfriend and it’d be shitty of me to neglect her wishes. I want this to work, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest, “This is stupid Hitoshi.”

He sighed, clearly growing annoyed as well, “Look, you’re just my friend, alright? So back off.”

Your jaw fell open at those words, tears already starting to sting at your eyes, “Just your friend? That’s low, Hitoshi. I am not just your friend and you know it.”

He groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair, “You’re starting to sound jealous and clingy, _____. It’s not a good look.”

Feeling that the tears were going to spill any moment, you shook your head and stormed past him, “Screw you Shinsou.”

You slammed your bedroom door, missing the sight of him burying his face in his hands. Hearing you address him by his last name was even worse than hearing his first. 

Things remained tense between the two of you for a week. You had really been hurt by his words. You always thought you meant a lot to him -- that you’d never be the person who was pushed aside for a relationship. You never thought Shinsou would do that. 

As a result, you made no effort to even speak to him. Sometimes you’d pass him while he sat on the couch, Aoi snuggled up to him. Whenever you made eye contact with you, she held this smug, superior look that made you want to clock her. 

You’d never hated a girlfriend of his more.

Finally, Shinsou gave in. He couldn’t stand not having you to talk to. There was this heavy feeling lingering on his shoulders every time he thought about the cold way you called him by his last name. He never wanted to be addressed like that by you. 

There were a series of knocks on your door and you paused, debating on ignoring him. He knocked again when you took too long to answer.

“Come in,” you groaned, putting your laptop aside to give him your attention.

“Hey,” he smiled half-heartedly as he slipped into your room, closing the door behind him. 

“What do you want?” you asked, no bite in your voice.

He sighed, taking a seat beside you on the bed, “I want to apologize for what I said. I know that hurt your feelings so I’m sorry.”

You were quiet for a moment before you sat up straighter, “Hitoshi...I don’t want you to become a different person because of a girl.”

“What do you mean?” he frowned. 

You sighed, “I think she’s a bad influence on you, Toshi.”

He softened briefly at your use of his nickname but it was quickly replaced by a cold stare that sent shivers down your spine, “A-A bad influence? I’m not a kid, _____.”

You frowned, “You don’t have to be a kid to be negatively influenced by another person's toxicity, Hitoshi.”

“You think she’s toxic?” he scoffed, standing up, “You don’t even know her. You’ve barely even spoken to her.”

“Well the bit that I have spoken to her was not pleasant,” you spat, moving to sit at the edge of the bed with your feet on the floor, “I don’t think she’s good for you.”

“What are you, my mother now?” he growled, spinning around to glare at you, “Maybe I was wrong...maybe you are just jealous.”

“How am I acting jealous?” you cried, growing frustrated, “Caring about your wellbeing is jealousy now?”

“Oh get off it,” he groaned, “What’s she done then, huh? Tell me.”

You paused, remembering her threat. But you were so pissed off you couldn’t keep it in anymore, “She’s threatened me to stay away from you. She’s so insecure about our friendship she threatened me over it! Said you were hers and I better remember that. She’s crazy!”

“She didn’t say that,” he argued, eyes narrowed maliciously, “You’re just making shit up to make her look bad now. That’s really low, _____.”

“You asked me to tell you what she did and then you just don’t believe me?!” you screeched, tossing your hands up in exasperation.

“I thought you’d tell me the truth, not make up some pathetic lie!” he shouted, making you flinch. 

“Pathetic?” you breathed, shoulders sagging, “Is that what you think of me?”

He was quiet for a moment, jaw set. He seemed to be thinking his words carefully, which made his next even more painful, “Yeah. I do. This jealousy and lying of yours is pathetic. I get if you don’t like her but don’t make up shit about her,” he made way for the door, yanking it open, “Grow the fuck up, ______.”

You didn’t get a chance to reply before he was slamming your door shut. All at once, your emotions came crashing down and you buried your face in your pillow to silence your sobs. 

Your eyes fluttered open and you groaned, feeling your head pound. A glance out the window showed that it was nighttime. You had fallen asleep. 

You climbed out of bed to your desk to find your packet of headache pills. You let out a sigh of relief as you swallowed them down with the bottle of water sat on your nightstand. Flopping back into bed, you closed your eyes and attempted to relax your body. 

Just as it seemed that you were going to fall back asleep, there was a loud noise from past your door. You frowned, your eyes fluttering open in confusion. 

It came again and it took you a moment to realize what it was. A woman’s moan. 

“Toshi!” you heard her squeal, making you flinch.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you hissed, feeling those tears come burning their way back. 

“That feel good, baby? Let me hear you,” he growled and your hands flew up to cover your ears to muffle the sounds of her pleasure. 

This was low for Shinsou. Sure, he’d had sex with girlfriends before but he always made sure to keep it down for your sake. Now he was just doing it to dig at you. 

He wasn’t wrong about your jealousy but you knew he thought you were jealous over his attention being taken away. But that wasn’t the case at all. It was because you were in love with him. 

Now he was forcing you to listen to him fuck the girlfriend you literally had a fight over. This wasn’t like Shinsou at all. 

She really was just a terrible influence on him but he was too in love to see it. She was making him into a different person and you hated it. It was happening so quickly. 

As you laid in bed, tears wetting your bed as you hid your head under your pillow, you couldn’t help but think.

The stupid fool really fell in love way too easily. 

Things went from bad to worse astonishingly fast. Aoi was over more often than she had been before. The snotty comments and humiliating words from her every time you saw her and the cold, deadly glare Shinsou set on you whenever you came anywhere near his girlfriend was wearing on you. 

You were unhappy. It was an emotion you rarely ever felt around him -- Shinsou was always the one to pick you up, not put you down. It got to the point where he wouldn’t even respond to your greetings or questions, giving you the complete silent treatment. 

It hurt. 

To escape the suffocating negativity of your apartment, you picked up even more shifts at work. The video game shop became a place you found solace in. 

If Shinsou noticed your absence, he didn’t make it known to you. 

“Will that be all for you today?” you asked, plastering on a fake, customer service smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled, slapping down a few bills to cover the charge, “But I think I’d like to add your number to my receipt.”

You took a moment to look at him. He had blonde hair with a lightning bolt of black through it. He was dressed in black jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. He was cute, you’d give him that.

“Is that the best you could come up with?” you asked, opening the register with a brow raised.

He giggled, making you smile despite yourself, “I was on a time crunch I didn’t want to miss my chance.”

“Who said you had a chance to begin with?” you asked, passing him his change, “3.14 is your change.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d give one to me,” he shrugged, stuffing the change into  his pocket before grabbing the bagged video game he’d purchased. 

You gazed at him for a moment. He was charismatic and cute. He liked video games just like you. And he’d be a great distraction.

“Sure, why not?” you mused, watching his eyes go wide.

“Wait really?” he gasped, a grin stretching across his face.

“Did you think I’d say no?” you asked. 

“U-Usually I get rejected so…” he shrugged, scratching the back of his head with a cute blush reaching his ears, “Anyway, when’s your shift end?”

“Um...closing time, so about 8:30,” you replied, glancing at the clock. 5 hours left. 

“Sweet, I’ll pick you up!” he grinned.

“I-I’ll have to change though!” you complained, making him pause and shake his head.

“Don’t worry about it!” with those parting words, he bolted out the door, the bell chiming to signal his departure. 

As he disappeared from view, you realized you didn’t even know his name. 

You would come to find he was Denki Kaminari; a college student majoring in graphic design. He had a friend named Katsuki Bakugou who was as loud as he was angry. Eijirou Kirishima was a kind, chill guy who mellowed out the explosive Bakugou well. Mina and Sato, two friends-turned-lovers, were a common source of laughter for the group. 

You were together for a little over a month and a half when he finally asked to meet your friends. Truth be told, the only person you could consider a friend would be Shinsou. You had acquaintances and those you hung real casually with but Shinsou was the only person you’d consider a friend.

Well, you weren’t sure if he could even be called that anymore. 

Eventually, you gave in and decided to bring Kaminari to your apartment. 

“Whoa, nice place,” he mumbled, looking around. 

“You think so? Thanks,” you smiled, leading him towards the living room, “Like I said...things are...tense between me and Hitoshi so…”

“Who’re you?” a familiar voice came from the entry of the hallway. 

Shinsou stood there, messy hair and tired eyed wearing basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt. His eyes burned holes into Kaminari, who visibly shrunk beneath the heated glare. You took note of how Shinsou didn’t even look at you. 

That still hurt.

“I’m Denki Kaminari,” the blonde replied, approaching Shinsou to shake his hand, “I’m _____’s boyfriend!”

You didn’t miss the shift in Shinsou’s look, his eyebrows perking up ever so slightly. His gaze finally shifted to you before he scoffed from his nose, making you wince. 

“Alright,” Shinsou mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets before turning his back to the both of you, stalking back to his room with a slam of the door. 

Kaminari winced, “Boy, you weren’t kidding.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, motioning him to follow you, “Let’s head to my room. I don’t know if Aoi is here or not and I don’t care to find out.”

“I kinda wanna meet her too,” your boyfriend whispered, lowering his voice so it didn’t carry to Shinsou.

“No you don’t,” you chuckled, shutting your bedroom door once the two of you were safely inside. 

You sat beside him on the bed, reaching for your remote to click the TV on for background noise. He cuddled in beside you, commenting on how soft your bed was. 

“You smell really good,” he suddenly whispered, nosing at your neck. 

You blinked in surprise, moving your head so he could get a better angle, “Th-Thanks…”

He hummed as you shivered once he pressed a few soft kisses against your neck. It tickled a bit but also sent a strange tingle down your spine the more he kissed. Your heart hammered in your chest and you briefly wondered if Denki could hear it. 

He cupped your jaw, pulling you into a deep kiss. His tongue met your bottom lip, making you sigh against his lips. 

You barely noticed his hand crawling up your shirt until it snuck beneath the band of your bra. The unfamiliar feeling of someone cupping your breast had you pulled away, tugging on Kaminari’s hand to pull him away. 

“W-We shouldn’t…” you whispered, unsure of how to reject him, “W-With Shinsou the way he is…”

Kaminari looked skeptical for a second before nodding his head, “Got it.”

And that was that. 

At least you thought until he began trying more and more. It became common for you to find his hand up your shirt. The feeling made you uneasy, making you realize you really weren’t ready to have sex. Kaminari was your first boyfriend and you weren’t willing to give everything up to him like that.

“Why do you always stop me?” Kaminari asked one day, voice soft and reassuring.

“I just…” you cleared your throat, biting your lip, “I don’t want to go that far yet.”

He was quiet for a moment before smiling and nodding his head, pulling you closer to him with a kiss to your forehead. Your body relaxed, thankful that he wasn’t angry with you like you had feared he would be. 

He began following your wishes, no longer attempting to go past kissing. You were thankful. 

Unfortunately, your bliss didn’t last long because next thing you knew, he was dumping you. Over text. 

You had just got home from work, your feet aching and dread pooling in your stomach at the idea of being home. You were so tired of being scared to come home, it was exhausting. Shinsou was sitting on the couch, eating something he’d made himself for dinner with his back to you. He didn’t even show any signs that he knew you were home. 

Lingering by the door, you pulled your phone out to check your notifications. 

One from Denki made your heart stop -- the preview text already displaying what you feared. Your fingers were trembling as you unlocked your phone to look at the message. 

As you read it, the words grew blurrier until tears began to drip onto your screen -- further obscuring the words there. 

A small whimper escaped your throat, despite the way you tried to choke down any sounds. You quickly scurried to get to your bedroom when a strong hand snagged your wrist. Wide eyed, you were spun around to find Shinsou wearing a frown and furrowed brows. 

“Why are you crying?” he asked, voice stern with concern. 

You shook your head, feeling pathetic. You didn’t like Kaminari that much. Truthfully, you were mostly dating him to get away from Shinsou. But the idea that you were dumped because you wouldn’t have sex was utterly humiliating. Your first real boyfriend dumped you because you wouldn’t put out. 

“You were right,” you sniffled, unable to hold back the sob that tore through your chest, “I am pathetic.”

He didn’t have the chance to even think of a reply before you were escaping his hold to hide away in your bedroom. You haphazardly stripped and changed into your softest set of clothes, deciding you were going to wallow in your own self pity for the night. 

Your humiliation overshadowed the fact Shinsou had shown you the first sign of care in weeks. He had reacted to your crying just as he always had and instinctively moved to comfort you. 

You could hear muffled voices from the hallway, one male and one female. The fact he brought her over after you just had a near meltdown in front of him irked you and only brought more tears forth. 

A sense of anger rushed over you -- you didn’t want her there. This was your house and you didn’t want her there while you were going through it. You had half a mind to go out there and kick her out, maybe Shinsou would let it slide since you were clearly having a tough time. 

What you didn’t expect were the shouts coming from them. You frowned and walked towards your door, cracking it open to listen to their shouting from the living room.

“You’re kicking me out?!” Aoi cried. 

“I’m not kicking you out,” Shinsou sighed, “You don’t live here. I’m just asking you to go home for the night, Aoi.”

“Why should I?” Aoi argued, “Because she’s upset? Who cares!”

“I care!” Shinsou snapped.

Aoi scoffed, “Oh yeah, since when? Last I checked you picked me over her!”

“I didn’t pick anyone over anyone,” Shinsou huffed.

“Really?” Aoi’s tone was dripping in sarcasm, “You haven’t paid her a second of attention since your little fight. I doubt you even noticed how she’s been working full-time instead of part-time. Why do you think that is? To get away from you! Not that I give a shit, but you have been treating her like dirt. So don’t even try and pretend you give a shit, I know you don’t. You only feel bad because she’s crying. Once she gets over it you’ll just come back to me in the end. So just let her sulk by herself, she’s a big girl.”

Shinsou was quiet after that. You were sure he wasn’t even going to respond but you continued to stand there and listen. The apartment was silent, you could even hear the ticking of the decorative clock Shinsou’s mother had given you both. 

“She was right, huh?” he finally whispered.

“Huh?” Aoi replied, clearly annoyed.

“I really did let you turn me into someone else,” he sighed, “God, I’m so stupid.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Hitoshi?” she snapped, growing impatient over the argument. 

“You should leave,” Shinsou said, voice strong once again, “You and I are done.”

“What?!” Aoi shrieked, stomping her foot, “You can’t dump me! Not for her!”

“Get out, Aoi,” Shinsou growled, yanking the front door open.

She scoffed, “Don’t come crawling back to me when you learn she isn’t worth it.”

The slam of the door signalled the end. Silence ensued and you slipped back into your room, letting your door shut silently. 

Just as you expected, there were a few soft knocks on your door. You didn’t reply but he opened up anyway, peeking in to find you sitting on the bed with your head hung.

“I assume you heard all that,” he said, cupping the back of his neck nervously. 

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss,” you mumbled, feeling awkward about sharing this moment with him.

You didn’t look up when he sat down beside you. With a sudden tug, you found yourself wrapped up in a sweet embrace. 

“Why were you crying? Did something happen with that Kaminari dude? Did he hurt you?” his concern brought forth a new flood of tears that you let go. 

“He dumped me,” you whined, clinging to the front of his shirt.

“Why?” he asked, petting your hair softly.

You scoffed, shame building up inside you, “Because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

Immediately he pushed you back by your shoulders to look at your face, “He dumped you ‘cause you wouldn’t fuck him?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze, “He said he had needs and he wasn’t willing to wait for me to put out.”

“Jesus,” Shinsou scoffed, shaking his head, “What a prick,” he pulled you into his chest again with a sigh, “It’s good you didn’t sleep with him then. He wouldn’t have been worth it.”

“Yeah, I would have regretted it,” you nodded, “I’m not even sad he broke up with me. I just feel like shit that it was over sex. He was my first boyfriend and I got dumped because I wasn’t ready...that sort of feels shitty, you know?”

Shinsou nodded, resting his cheek atop your head, “I understand. It’s like a blow to your self-esteem, yeah?”

“Exactly,” you sniffled, your tears finally coming to a stop as he held you and let you talk, “I didn’t like him enough to sleep with him anyway. Even if I was ready.”

Shinsou chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you’re not heartbroken over it.”

You were quiet for a long moment before you pulled away from him, “How are you? I know you liked Aoi.”

Shinsou frowned, looking at his hands in his lap before shrugging, “I actually don’t really feel anything.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. Usually he would be in tears by now. But he was right, there wasn’t even an ounce of sadness in his eyes.

He nodded, “All I really cared about was you. I guess realizing what she really was wiped out anything I felt for her. Truthfully, it was probably going to be over soon anyway.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

“We just didn’t have good chemistry, I suppose. The sex was great but beyond that we didn’t really share any common interests,” he explained, leaning back on his hands with a sigh.

You cringed at the mention of sex -- remembering the night you sobbed as you were forced to listen to them go at it. Shinsou seemed to notice your discomfort, leaning up straight once more to take your hands in his. 

“I’m sorry, ______,” he breathed, making you look up at him, “I was such a fuckin’ asshole to you. You didn’t deserve that and if you chose to never forgive me I would understand. But I promise I will never let a girl come first again. You’re my best friend, you’re the entire world to me and you will always be here when all the girls leave, I know that. No one can ever replace you.”

His words caused a flood of tears to flood down your cheeks again. You threw your arms around his shoulders, tugging him into a desperate hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your shirt with his face buried in your neck. 

“I will always be here, Toshi,” you hiccuped, “I really will. It doesn’t matter if you choose the next 50 girls over me, I would never let you go. I would rather live with you ignoring me and making me cry over not having you at all.”

He sighed, tears of his own falling from his eyes and wetting your skin but you didn’t mind, “I would never ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, voice trembling. You couldn’t stop the next words from coming, you didn’t even try, “That’s how strong my love is for you, Toshi. I would do anything for your happiness. I’ll let you cry on my shoulder when girl after girl breaks your heart, even though it hurts so damn much because I know I would never, ever let you down like that. I’ll sit with you in the living room while another girl is wrapped in your arms, desperately wishing it was me, because you want me and her to be friends. You don’t even know it but you have every bit of me,” your voice broke as you let out a sob, taking a stuttering breath before continuing, “I never dated because I only ever loved you. You’re the only one I ever want to love. I don’t even care if you don’t feel the same, Toshi, I just needed you to know...I have loved you since we were kids. Whenever your mom joked that we would get married, I used to go to sleep hoping it would come true one day. You’re it for me, you know?”

Shinsou was still, every muscle in his body tense against you. You remained relaxed, relishing in being held in his arms even though it very well may be the last time you would ever experience it. His tears had stopped and you could feel his hands trembling against your back from where he was still holding your shirt in tight fists. 

Finally, slowly, he pulled away. You avoided his gaze, scared of what you may find there. With trembling fingers, he lifted your chin until you were finally forced to meet his gaze.

“______…” he whispered, your voice like honey on his lips, “Is that true? Since we were kids?”

You chuckled through your still falling tears, “Remember that time at the summer festival when I wandered off and you had to chase me? And I got scared because I couldn’t find our parents? When you let me hold onto you and you kept reassuring me that everything was okay…” you shrugged, your voice cracking as you uttered, “I knew I loved you then. And I love you to this day.”

His wide eyes were glassy as he stared at you, mouth agape in his shock. It was so much for him to take in. 

Before you knew what was happening, he was leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. Your vision went white for a second in shock at the feeling. 

His lips were soft and as you began to kiss back, you tasted coffee on his lips. Typical of Shinsou, it was late at night and he was still drinking coffee. The thought made you smile and you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He cupped the back of your head, a soft sigh escaping him as he moved his lips expertly until you were breathless.

After a long moment, he pulled away. The both of you were panting, eyes lidded as you processed what just happened.

“Toshi…” you whispered, feeling euphoric after kissing him, “I don’t understand.”

He shook his head, cupping your cheek, “All you need to know...is that I love you too.”

You gaped at those words coming from his lips. Surging forward, you pressed your lips against his again. He smiled into the kiss, leaning further against you until you were forced to lay back against the mattress. His body was hovering above yours, held up by his elbows on either side of your head.

He wasted no time in touching your body, years of desperation finally culminating into this one moment. His hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing the hem up to expose the soft skin of your belly.  He paused at your ribs, unsure if you were okay with him going any further. But when you gripped his wrist and urged his hand up to cup your breast, he threw away those inhibitions. 

Thumbing your sensitive nipple, you keened as they hardened beneath his touch. He leaned down a bit more to press his lips against yours. 

You lost yourself against his lips, whimpering and grinding against nothing. Just the fact the man you’d loved for so long was there touching you after years of craving it had your panties soaked. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, breaking from the kiss to kiss down your body. 

You trembled beneath him, watching him with rapt attention as he kissed the exposed skin of your stomach and ribs. Sighing, you let him push your shirt over your head to discard off the side of the bed. He leaned forward, enveloping one of the pert buds in his hot mouth, tonguing at it until you were whining and begging him to give attention to the other one. He did so eagerly, providing a stimulating suck before finally pulling away. His lips were swollen and his cheeks were flushed, the very fact you made him that way was dizzying. 

“Wanna taste that perfect cunt too, baby,” he growled, voice losing the soft, sweetness it once held. 

“O-Okay,” you agreed easily, raising your hips so he could tug the last remaining articles off of your body. 

The second you were bare, his hands were pinning your thighs open. His eyes examined every inch of your pussy -- taking in the juices dripping from your clenching hole. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart, “so pretty too, god. Look at you...you’re perfect. Bet you’re so sweet…”

“Please Toshi…” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his hair.

His eyes fluttered at the feeling, allowing you to pull him to your pussy where he eagerly ran his tongue flat between your spread folds. You gasped, eyes slamming shut as he paused to wrap his lips around your clit for just a split second. The teasing touch was addictive and you suddenly wanted more. 

Shinsou understood what it is you wanted and quickly dove back in for more. Circling his tongue around your clit, your back arched. You wanted to close your thighs against the stimulation but his strong hands kept your legs pinned open. 

He swirled his tongue quickly, moaning before enveloping the bud in his hot mouth. You tugged his hair, crying out his name as you felt a high approaching rapidly. He looked so good between your thighs, eating your cunt like you’d dreamed of for ages. 

Suddenly, he pulled away, licking his lips before sitting up.

“Fuck, tell me babygirl,” he breathed, “You gonna let me fuck this pretty cunt?” you nodded, reaching to push his shit up but he stopped you, looking you in the eyes, “Use your words. Tell me.”

“Yes, please fuck me Shinsou!” you begged.

He grinned, pressing a kiss against your lips before stripping himself of his clothes. 

You almost gasped at the sight of his cock. He was big; long and thick. Subconsciously, you clenched your thighs together in anticipation. 

“You ready?” he asked, scooting to sit between your spread legs. 

You tensed up as he prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock. He realized how tense you were and ran his hand along your thigh to soothe you, “You good? You can back out anytime, darlin’.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling your cheeks heat up as you looked at him through your lashes, “I-It’s just...go slow?”

He frowned, brows drawn together before he backed away from you a bit, “Is this your first time, sweetheart?”

Licking your lips, you hesitated before nodding. Shinsou sighed, hanging his head to rest against your collarbone. You frowned, “I-Is that bad?” you asked. 

Truth was, you never wanted anyone but him. You never had a desire to have sex with anyone but him. You knew he was the one person you’d never regret being with. 

“No!” he sat up, eyes wide before wrapping his hand around the nape of his neck nervously, “I just wish you would have told me sooner...that was almost bad.”

“Why?” you asked,making him chuckle. He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Well…” clearing his throat, he looked off to the side bashfully, “My dick’s not exactly the smallest around and since you’re a virgin you could do with...a lot more preparation, you know?”

Your cheeks were ablaze from the bluntness of his words. He didn’t waste another second in bringing his hand to your still wet pussy. 

He sighed, a smile lingering on his lips as he worked his middle finger into your tight hole. Humming, he bit his lip as he slipped his ring finger alongside it. You sighed, eyes fluttering at the mild stretch that came along with it. 

“Feel okay?” he asked softly, working the two fingers in and out of your hole. 

You nodded, “Feels good,” you breathed. 

Your eyes fell closed as he crooked his fingers upwards to touch that sweet spot on top. Your hips jumped at the sensation, ripping a moan from your swollen lips. He smirked, burying the digits deep, licking his lips at the way your juices gushed out from around them. 

With his other hand, he found your clit, circling the bud with his thumb as he worked his index finger into the mix. The added stimulation to your clit made your wall clench tightly and he grunted, imagining what it would feel like around his cock. 

“Please Toshi,” you begged, “I want you already.”

“Thank you’re ready?” he asked, although he already knew the answer. 

And he was right when you whimpered out a pathetic little, “Yes!”

He resumed the position from earlier, his tip pressed against your entrance. It was opened a bit from his three fingers but he knew it was still going to be a tight fit. 

He took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he began to sink into your cunt. You whimpered as your walls stretched around him, squeezing his hand. He bottomed out quickly, stilling to let you adjust to being stuffed so full of his thick cock. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“N-No…” you mumbled, “Just...feels weird.”

He chuckled, kissing your lips again. He could feel you squeezing around him, your cunt unused to having such a big cock inside. The fact he was your first, the one taking your virginity -- tainting your pure body was turning him on more than he ever thought it would. 

He couldn’t even lie and say he’d never taken a cherry before but with you it was different. He felt a sense of pride and possessiveness wash over him; you were his completely. You had given him your heart and your body. 

Burying his face in your neck, he pressed kisses against the sweet spot he easily found there. Grinding his hips against yours, he stirred your insides with his thick length until you were arching your hips to get more of the addictive pleasure only he could bring you. 

He pulled out halfway, slowly sinking his cock back inside with a groan.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, eyes glued to where your cunt was stretched around him, “Taking me so well, look at that.”

“Feels so good,” you whimpered, clutching the sheets beneath you in your fists.

“Yeah?” he grinned, pulling out so the tip remained only to surge forward and sink his cock into you in one long thrust. Immediately, your back arched and you let out an erotic moan that had his cock throbbing against your walls, “Fuck, my cocks almost too much for you but you’re bein’ such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Taking what I give you...fuck…”

His praise and dirty words went straight to your core. He set a steady pace, making sure to angle his hips up so he could hit your g-spot. The pleasure had your eyes rolling back and you cried out his name every so often, making his heart race. 

“Sound so pretty sayin’ my name…” he groaned, cupping your breasts in his hands as he fucked you, “Pussy’s so tight and wet...I can feel you dripping, you know that? Who would have thought such a pretty cunt could get so messy. But you only get this messy for me, right darlin’?”

“Only you!” you babbled, wrapping your arms around his neck to press your lips against his. He moaned into your mouth, reaching between your bodies to circle your clit, “Fuck! Toshi, y-you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Fuck,” he groaned, “Do it then, sweetheart. Go on, cum on my fucking cock.”

A few more thrusts and circles over your swollen bud had you falling over the edge. Your body trembled and arched beneath him, cunt spasming around him as he worked you dutifully through your orgasm. 

Once you came down, he pulled his hand from your clit and pulled out. You were panting, body limp and relaxed as you let him move you onto your hands and knees. Keeping your face buried in the pillow, you allowed him to maneuver you into the proper position. 

He pressed his hand down on the small of your back, “Arch your back for me, good girl.”

“Th-This is embarrassing, Toshi…” you whispered into the pillow. 

He hummed, gripping his cock to direct himself back into the sweet vice of your cunt, “No reason to be embarrassed, kitten. It’s just me...you can trust me.”

“I-I know...but still…” you whimpered, eyes fluttering as he sunk his cock deep inside. The position allowed him to reach a new depth. 

“Do you want to stop?” he asked softly, running his hand along your spin. 

You hesitated for a second, focusing on the pleasurable sensation of being filled so completely before shaking your head. He grinned, leaning down to kiss your shoulder blade, “Good girl.”

The praise went to your head and you suddenly had a desire to receive more. You wanted to be good for him -- be his good girl. 

You lifted your head from the pillow and cried out his name, fucking yourself back against his cock. He grinned, slapping your ass lighter than he usually would do it -- he wasn’t sure how you would take to it. When he felt you clench around him in response, he grinned. That was something worth looking into it seemed. 

“Toshi…” you whined, reaching back to grip at his hip.

He hummed, slowing ever so slightly, “What is it, kitten?”

“Please…” you whined, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment over what you desperately wanted to ask him.

“Please what?” he whispered, kissing your shoulder blade again, “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“C-Call me...y-your goog girl again…” you whispered, immediately burying your face in your pillow. 

He paused, eyes wide before another grin grew across his face. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you up until your back was pressed against his chest. You cried out, his cock stilling inside you as he pressed his lips against your ear.

“You like being praised huh?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder. He enjoyed the fucked out look on your face, “Like being my good girl, hm? Such a pretty, sweet girl for me…”

You whimpered, walls clenching around his still cock, “I-I love you Toshi…”

He hummed, reaching down to find your clit. Circling over the bud, you keened, eyes fluttering as your cunt clenched tight around him, “I know you do, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, your walls squeezed, clamping down tight. He groaned, cursing under his breath as he felt your body seize up in your orgasm, trembling and gushing around his cock. He pressed his lips against your shoulder, looking down to where his length was buried completely inside. 

You began to rock yourself along his cock, your orgasm flying to new heights as he never stopped playing with your sensitive bud. 

Suddenly, he watched with wide eyes as your cum squirted out, soaking the bed and your thighs. 

“Shit,” he growled, providing a few quick slaps against your clit, making you squirt just a few more times, “What a good fucking girl you are. Look at the mess you made. You’re so perfect, I love you so much.”

Those words had you clenching once again. That finally sent him over the edge himself. He rocked into you, holding you tight against him. His cock throbbed, spitting hot cum into your sensitive cunt. 

He cupped your breasts, groaning in the throes of his orgasm as he pressed kisses against your shoulder, neck, and cheek. 

When he finally came down, he gently laid you on the bed, pulling his cock out. His cum gushed from your hole without his length to stop it. You cringed, the feeling unpleasant to say the least. 

He got out of bed to go to the bathroom intending to get a cloth to clean you with. 

When he was gone, you found yourself thinking about what just happened. One particular thought was on your mind and when he returned, you didn’t hesitate to voice it.

“W-We didn’t use a condom…” you mumbled. 

He hummed, “Were we supposed to? I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am...it’s just…” you frowned, clearing your throat as you watched him wiped your thighs and sensitive folds free of your mixed cum.

“What?” he sat beside you, fixing you with a steady gaze, urging you to confess your thoughts to him. 

“You were just...dating, you know...Aoi and…” you sighed, averting your gaze from him, “Other girls before.”

He chuckled, laying beside you, “What, you’re concerned I have something?”

“Well no...not necessarily…” you frowned as he cupped your cheek, making you look at him.

“If you must know…” he shrugged before continuing, “I always used a condom with them.”

“Really?” he nodded at your question, “Then...why with me?”

“Because you’re you,” he smiled, kissing your lips, pulling you to lay against his chest, “You’re the one for me, kitten. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Yes, Hitoshi Shinsou fell in love easily. But he never gave those girls his heart. He cried because he thought he could never have you. The truth was, you had always owned his heart. It had always been in your hands. 

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

I hate that girl - F.W

Summary: Fred doesn’t really know how to cope. He hates y/n and everyone loves her. But is the feeling truly hate, or something else?

Warnings: Mean Fred, eating, semi-smut it's just oral: male receiving, a little hair pulling and stuff like that :)

A/N: Maybe I'm going to write a PART 2, with the rest of the smut? Idk? What do you guys think? x

Words: 2,1k

It was summer, finally, my favourite season. I sat at the table with my family at the Burrow, enjoying my moms dinner.

“So, y/n is coming tomorrow mom, you remember?” Ron asked while trying to put a big piece of meat in his mouth.

“Of course I remember dear!” Molly smiled.

“Pfffttt ohno” I sighed, making the whole dinner table glare at me.

“Don’t be mean Fred, I really don’t know what’s wrong with you” Ginny said angrily.

What was wrong with me? That girl was wrong.

I hated how my whole family fell for her trap. Like she’s so innocent. They all believed her act. But I knew the truth, I hated the girl. She wasn’t sweet and shy and helpful. I just knew it. She couldn’t be. I didn’t believe it.

I never liked the girl. She visits us every year, being very good friends with... yea, almost every person here.

She was a liar, I saw it in her eyes. The girl was always like: “Molly can I help with the dishes” or “Hey George, I looooveee the new joke product” with her silly sweet voice.

No I didn’t fall for that. She didn’t even say those things to me any more, I've already scared her away. Well, great. That’s great.

“I really don’t understand why you hate her that much Freddie” George sighed when we were back in our bedroom.

"Well and I don't understand why you like her that much Georgie, are you in love with her or something?" I accused him.

"It seems like you are the one in love with her, silly brother" he answered laughing.

What the hell??

"WHAT? For God's sake! Why would you even think that?!" I screamed defensively. George only laughed.

"I give up" he smiled. Leaving me extremely irritated.

Me in love with y/n, like I said, I hate that girl.

*

I almost threw up seeing the girl acting like that.

We were all welcoming her in the living room. She hugged Ginny, then my mum and Ron and... you know how it goes.

Then she hugged George giving him a kiss on the cheek. Urgh disgusting. It was my turn. It was clear she didn't really know what to do. It was pretty awkward.

"Fred" she nodded staring at me full of doubt. She gave me a sad look and I almost fell for it.

I knew my sister was looking at me with eyes full of anger without even looking her way. I couldn't take it any more and just left without saying a word.

"I'm sorry about him" I heard George saying to her. "It's okay" she answered softly.

*

It was quiet at the burrow, everyone was already asleep. I've always been the only person in this house that stays up this late.

I was getting tired so I decided to get ready for bed. Even George had ignored me all evening, I don't get it, why are they this mad? I mean, okay, I wasn't very nice to y/n. But I can do what I want and I can dislike who I want, what do they have to do with it?

So I opened the bathroom door and before I could process what happened, my face was already bright red. Y/n was changing, her, apparently pretty, chest was bare in front of me.

The first thing I did was slap my hand to my face, trying to close my eyes and hide the redness. What the actual fuck, did I just see the girl naked?

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE THIS LATE" I screamed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should've locked the door, I'm sorry" she answered embarrassed.

Okay how could I ever get this image out of my fucking head?! Yes, she did have an impressive body, and...but... BUT NO FRED, NO.

"Stop apologizing all the time, for god's sake, it makes me crazy" I hissed angrily.

She didn't really answer and she ran past me, I didn't even see the look on her face. Maybe that was a good thing, because I knew I may have been a bit too mean this time...

*

"Fuck Fred, keep going" y/n moaned, she looked like a mess and her perfect boobs bounced up and down when she rode me. It was the hottest and the best thing I've ever felt. Moans and grunts left my mouth. "Fuck I'm cumming baby" I grunted.

Suddenly a loud knock on my bedroom door woke me up. Y/n wasn't there any more.

Shit, was this a dream, an actual sex dream? About her?

"FRED WAKE UP IT'S ALREADY 1 PM, WE'RE GOING TO SWIM!" I heard my little sister scream at the door.

I freaked out immediately. I could never face y/n again after this, why did it happen? Why is my brain like this? And then I had a little problem down there too, I had an obvious boner.

"I'm coming Gin wait a minute" I answered nervously.

An hour later, I finally reached the lake that was a mile away from the burrow. The others were already there.

Great, swimming.

The dream was still spinning around in my head. I was so confused and like it couldn't get any worse, they decided to swim. Why today?

This was the worst moment ever to see y/n in her bikini. I saw her from a distance. God she looked hot. Her perfect boobs in the red bikini top, and damn it, that ass...

Bloody hell, STOP IT FRED, I just got rid of my boner, I don't need it to come back again.

"There you are Freddie, finally!" George smiled when he saw me. Damn it.

Y/n looked up too, still smiling at me even though all the mean things I said or did to her. Her hair was in a perfect bun and I could see her red bikini better now. I never really realized how sexy and good she looks until now, until the moment I walked in on her changing this night. Or maybe that was the problem, maybe I always knew, but shut it out?

But what if this was her trap again? The trap everyone fell for except me. I couldn't allow myself to fall for it, I promised myself!

I walked up to them and tried to get out of my confusing thoughts. "I'm sorry I didn't realize I slept for so long" I answered trying to sound okay.

"Guess it's because you were still up pretty late" y/n joked. Her pretty smile appeared and out of nowhere my legs were weak, like jelly.

"Fuck y/n SHUT UP, SHUT THE HELL UP" I snapped out of nowhere. My face went red and the others looked at me in shock.

It was quiet, y/n gaped at me, speechless.

"I.. I-" I tried to apologize when I saw y/n her hurt eyes, but nothing came out. My heart broke when a tear fell down her cheek. Maybe I was wrong about her.

I was the bad person in this story, not her.

She ran away and I heard her sobbing behind me.

It wasn't a trap, she never acted like she was an innocent sweet girl, she really was an innocent sweet girl. It wasn't her trap, it was my own trap, a trap I made up in my own head.

*

I heard sobs coming from her room. I stood behind the door. I promised my siblings I would apologize, because it was true, maybe I was wrong about her.

I opened the door slowly.

"Fred, please go away, you don't have to act like you're sorry because I'm crying. I know you hate me." she sobbed when she saw me.

“N-no, I, I don’t know what’s wrong with me” I stuttered.

She looked confused. Her red eyes really broke my heart. It was my fault.

I sat next to her on the floor and put my hand on her leg. She seemed shocked.

“Why do you hate me?” she whispered.

I sighed. Not really knowing what to answer.

“I don’t hate you, I just had the wrong idea about you y/n, I’m stupid.” I answered.

It was weird, she was still in her bikini and this was so not the right moment, but I felt that bulge in my swimming trunks appear again. I guess it’s because of the dream that was still so damn clear in my head. And of course, the fact that my hand was stroking down her bare leg.

Before I could cover it up, her eyes were already on it. Fuck.

We both didn’t utter a word. It was silent.

“You have a problem down there” she whispered, breaking the silence.

I gulped, trying to not get red.

“Is that why you hate me? You just want to fuck me?” she grinned extremely bold.

I wasn’t really used to being this speechless. But she was right. So, so right. So I just nodded.

Suddenly she was on my lap. My breath hitched in my throat. Her, so perfect, boobs now pressed to my bare chest.

“You make me crazy, I can’t even explain how crazy y/n” I finally said.

Her hands were now stroking my hair. Shit. My tummy tingled. Was George right, am I in love with her?

“So you just decide to be mean Freddie? Ignore me? Hurt me? Why?” she squeaked, searching for a rightful explanation.

“I... I’m sorry, I don’t know what I feel. I’m so confused but I know I was wrong about you now. I’m sorry for hurting you.” I apologized.

“It’s okay Freddie, I understand, we have enough time to find out how we feel” she promised me while lightly stroking my cheek with her small fingers.

A wave of electricity went from my feet to my head. So is this what being in love feels like? I wasn’t sure, maybe it was something else. I’ve never experienced this before. But one thing was sure: my pants got too tight now.

And that’s when I felt her move slowly. She moved the (oh so thin) fabric of her red bikini against my clothed cock. I could feel everything that was underneath and a shock of pleasure went through my whole body.

She kept grinding down on me, a soft whimper left her mouth and a grunt left mine.

I slammed my lips on hers. They moved perfectly in synchrony. They were soft and sweet. It was perfect.

I’ve kissed before, a lot. But this. This was different. The passion was overwhelming.

Her tongue explored my mouth while I helped her hips grind up and down.

She stopped the kiss and her beautiful y/e/c eyes locked with mine. In an instant, she was already on her knees in front of me, pulling down my swimming trunks.

"Can I?" she asked politely. I nodded eagerly.

She kissed my tip gently making me gasp a little. Her beautiful, soft hands stroked down my thigh.

"I'm pretty sure you're finally gonna stop hating me after this" she promised.

"You already succeeded princess" I praised, making her eyes go wider because of the nickname.

She started to kitten lick my tip slowly and my hands were already in her hair, making a ponytail with my hand.

She took my whole cock in her mouth, all at once. A grunt escaped my lips when I felt my tip hit the back of her throat.

"God y/n where did you learn this" I moaned huskily.

A smirk appeared when she started to bob up and down. I tried to control myself but I couldn't resist from pulling on her hair a little, guiding her head up and down. It was clearly something she liked because a moan left her mouth. The oh so sexy sound and vibrations made me grunt loudly. "Fuck baby" I moaned

I tried to hold it in but my hips started to pound a little into her mouth, making her gag on my cock.

"I'm gonna cum" I stuttered. One second later her mouth was already gone. I whined with a frown.

"Now already Freddie?" she smirked.

"Please don't stop, your mouth is amazing y/n" I asked trying to not sound too desperate.

She didn't answer but put her lips back, taking my cock in her mouth again. Now she started to suck fast and harder, making me go completely crazy.

She was so beautiful and so so so sexy. I couldn't hold in any longer. My head fell back and my eyes scrunched shut, a loud moan slipped from my lips when I came. I've never felt this amazing before. It was perfect. Y/n stuck her tongue out, showing me she swallowed all of my cum.

"Good girl" I praised huskily.

"Did it feel good?" she asked. She looked a little insecure now.

I grabbed her hips and placed her on my lap again.

"So good, I think I might be in love with you, and not just because of this moment, but for so many reasons y/n" I admitted.

"You.. you do?" she whispered getting red and shy. But the little smile on her lips said enough

_____

[hangovercurse]

Nothing

Part i of the Without You series: When Colson and Megan break up, the boys count on Y/N to piece Colson back together, which only leads to disaster.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Colson being kind of a dick, cursing, a little bit of aggression/ violence. This one’s definitely angsty.

A/N: This was supposed to be just a one part fic. Then that turned into 2 parts. And then 3. And then all of a sudden I had written 5 parts and over 10,000 words. Enjoy 😊 (also this is v unedited so if you see a mistake... mind ya business)

Word Count: 2084

| ii | iii | iv | v | vi |

masterlist

When you got the text from Rook, you knew it was probably gonna be bad. 

Megan just left him, for good. Not gonna be pretty the next few days so maybe don’t come by anytime soon. 

Your heart broke for your best friend. Colson had been really in love with Megan. And as much as you hated seeing them together for your own personal reasons, you could tell he was really happy. 

Ok. Let me know if you guys need me. If it gets bad I can take Casie for a few days. Take care of him for me pls. 

You and Colson had been friends for years now. You knew almost everything about each other, you told him everything. He let you crash at his place after your ex kicked you out, and you had spent many hours curled up with him, watching stupid movies to distract him from his most recent breakup or mental breakdown. 

But this was different. Colson told you he wanted to marry her at some point, and you knew he wasn’t lying. And you couldn’t blame him. As much as you hated no longer being the only women (other than Casie) in his life, you couldn’t dislike Megan. She was just one of those people who everyone loved. 

The thought of texting Colson crossed your mind, but you weren’t sure if it would hurt or help. From the sound of it, he was a wreck.

So, naturally, you texted Pete. 

Have you talked to Cols yet?

With Colson came Pete, or came you, you weren’t really sure. Somewhere along the way you and Pete had become close friends. He was like the older brother you’d never asked for, and he would probably say something similar about you. 

You couldn’t really explain it, Pete could read you like a book. And because of that, he knew everything. He was the only one to catch on to the way you sometimes looked at Colson for too long, or got irritated when he’d bring a new girl around. 

I’m heading over there right now. You should talk to him.

You rolled your eyes.

Not sure that’s the best idea. You guys are better at handling... all that. Once he gets a little less angry then I’ll take him. 

Pete texted you back a few minutes later.

Thanks for the support, kid. I’ll keep you updated. Just pulled in.

Good luck, Petey.

You tossed your phone on your bed, a sigh leaving your lips. You decided worrying was a problem for another day.

No more than 12 hours later you were getting a phone call from Rook. 

“Dude it’s like 4 in the morning, why are you calling me.” 

“Y/N, we’ve tried everything. He’s locked up in his room and every time one of us tries to talk to him he blows up. Literally he almost punched Slim a few hours ago.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning at the predicament. “So now you want me to come over?” You asked, “What do you think I’m gonna be able to do?”

“Well he’s not gonna try and hit you for one. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he’s significantly nicer to you than to anyone else.”

“What do I even say to him? “Sorry that the love of your life broke up with you but at least we can smoke pot and watch Spongebob?” I mean come on, man. I’m not good at this.”

“Please.” He pleaded, “We’re all out of options and I can’t stand to see him get any worse than he is.”

You moved off your bed and towards your dresser. “Fine, I’ll be there in 15.” 

You threw on the first pair of sweatpants you could find and slipped on shoes, grabbing your key and heading out the door.

True to your word, you pulled up to the house 15 minutes later, parking on the side of the street and heading straight into the house. When the guys saw you, they visibly brightened up. 

“You guys are such fucking wimps.” You rolled your eyes as you made your way towards the stairs. 

Baze chuckled, “We love you Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and continued on your way, stopping by Casie’s room to see if she was asleep. To your surprise, she wasn’t. 

“Hey sweet girl,” you whispered as you entered her room, “why are you still up?”

She smiled a little when she saw you. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m really worried about Dad.” 

You leaned on her doorframe, sending her a sad smile. “I am too. But he’ll be okay. Your dad’s pretty tough.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but he really liked Megan.”

“Did you?” You ask, trying to gauge her emotions. 

“I mean, I guess so. She was nice to me. Most of his girlfriends aren’t that nice to me.” 

“That’s a pretty shitty way to measure if you like someone or not.” She giggles at that. “Don’t tell your dad I said that word in front of you.”

“Ok. She was nice. And she made him happy so, yeah, I guess I liked her. Not as much as I like you but...” Casie’s voice got higher as she dragged out the last word and you just rolled your eyes with a chuckle. 

Casie had this fantasy of you and Colson getting married one day, but you always told her it would never happen. 

“Ok kiddo, whatever you say.” You teased her, “try and get some sleep, okay?” 

She nodded with a smile. “Are you gonna go talk to Dad?”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later, okay? If you need to come over and talk or stay the night or anything just call me, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” She said quietly. 

“Love you too, Case.”

You shut the door to her room, moving down the hallway to Colson’s door. You took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and knocked. 

“I told you guys to go the fuck away.” A muffled yet angry voice said from the opposite side of the door.

“It’s me, Cols. Y/N.” You said, hoping he could hear you. 

When you got no response you asked, “Can I come in?” 

A few more seconds of silence followed, and then the lock clicked and the door opened. You stood face-to-face with your best friend. His hair was a mess, falling in his face. The bags under his eyes were darker than ever, and the frown he wore made him look even more pathetic. You felt your heart breaking. 

As you met his eyes, you gave him a sad smile. “Hey Cols.” 

Instead of responding, he wrapped his arms around you, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. 

He started walking backwards, pulling you with him as he continued to hug you. One of his hands pushed the door shut and he sat on his bed, finally letting go of you. 

You looked down at him, grabbing his hand and holding it in your own. It was something you had done before, you two were very touchy people and so half of your friendship was just you two cuddling or play fighting or holding hands.

“So we can do one of three things,” you started, “We can talk about it, we can cuddle and watch something stupid and pretend nothing’s wrong, or we can get high and do something stupid.”

For the first time in what you would imagine to be all night, Colson smiled. it was a very small smile, but you took it. 

He looked up at you through his eyelashes. “And by stupid you mean...”

You rolled your eyes, “I mean we can go set off bottle rockets in the backyard or try to jump off your roof and into the pool.” 

“Oh damn. I was hoping you were gonna say you would suck my dick.” 

Your eyes widened at his bluntness and the implication. You shoved his shoulder, “Colson! That’s gross!” You giggled, but his expression was unwaveringly serious. 

“I’m being serious.” He deadpanned and you furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Colson what the fuck?” Your mind was spinning trying to figure out if he was joking. 

You got your answer when he stood up, grabbing your waist and leaning over you. “I thought you’d want to...” 

You took in a breath at the sudden proximity, trying to back away from him but his grip remaining firmly on your waist. “Colson, stop. Please. This isn’t funny.” 

You could smell the alcohol on his breath and you had to keep reminding yourself of that fact. He’s drunk, and sad, and doesn’t know what he’s saying. 

“I thought you’d want to, cause it’ll make me happy. And you’ll do anything to make me happy.” One of his hands reached up and grabbed your jaw, making sure you couldn’t look away.

“Colson you’re being a fucking weirdo, let me go.” You raised your voice. Your heart was racing at this point and the thoughts flowing around your head were not pretty. 

You were always anxious for the day he’d figure you out. When he’d finally realize how you felt for him. But this was worse than anything you’d thought of. 

“You’ll do anything to make me happy because you love me, right?” 

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, wanting nothing more but to look away from his sinister expression. The way he was looking at you made it very clear that he was enjoying your discomfort, your embarrassment. 

“Colso-” 

He walked forwards, pushing you gently against the wall. His arms went to either side of you, his face inches from yours. You tried to look away, but his hand on your jaw forced you to face him.

Any other time you would have loved for Colson to pin you against his wall, but this was wrong. 

“Just say it. Say you’re in love with me, and I’ll drop it.” 

“Colson, what the fuck are you on right now?” You tried to steer the topic away from you, but he wouldn’t have it. 

“Say it.” 

You reached up to try and push his chest away from you, but he was much taller and stronger than you, so you did nothing. 

“Just tell me!” He yelled at your silence. A tear slipped down your cheek as you trembled under him. His face was red and his eyes were watering. 

 “Why are you doing this?” You whispered. This all felt like a bad dream, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. 

“Because I need to know if she was right.” His voice got a little quieter, but he still wouldn’t move away from you. “I need to know if the reason the love of my fucking life just left me is true.”

You were shaking, your breaths getting shorter. “What are you talking about.” Your words were choked. The grip on your jaw started to get a little too tight.

“I defended you!” He yelled, tears falling from his face. “She told me that you were in love with me and I defended you.”

“Colson you’re hurting me.” You whined, trying to wriggle your way out of his grasp. He ignored your statement and continued talking, but his grip loosened slightly.

“And then she told me that she thinks I’m in love with you.” His voice was getting darker. “And that’s why she left. So I want to make it very clear to you.” He paused, leaning closer to your ear. “I will never love you. Ever. Not now, not in a million lifetimes. You mean nothing to me.”

Your vision was blurry from your tears, so you blindly reached out to push him away from you. His body seemed to have given up, as he moved backwards out of your way, stumbling slightly. Through your tears you could make out a smug smile on the man before you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

You ran down the stairs, the guys waiting for you to give them good news, but their hope turned to concern once they saw you. You walked straight past them towards the door, not trusting yourself to say anything without breaking completely.

As you reached for the door handle you heard a faint yell from upstairs, followed by loud banging, and then silence. You sniffled, turning the handle and leaving the house, much to the protest of your friends.

[unmaskedagain]

Remember You Young

I answered this ask because I thought it was adorable. I loved the show they wanted me to do, and I want to see who could guess it before it became obvious. Its a one-shot . 

She was being followed. At first it had been daunting when she realized it, and Marinette had done everything she could to shake them off her trail. Then she realized she was being stalked by kids. Literally kids. None older than ten or eleven at best.

           They had been terrible at hiding, rarely ever whispered, argued constantly, had the most outrageous costumes but somehow managed to keep up with Marinette’s every move... most of the time. They ran around with toy guns and pretend walky talkies.

           It either said the best thing about the kids’ skills, or the worst thing about Marinette’s.

           There was a husky boy who ran around in a blue shirt and goggles. He never took off the old pilot’s hat he wore. He was also… always eating cheese. Or candy. He liked puns that caused his friends to groan constantly.

           There was an Asian little girl who wore an adorable green sweater that was too big for her and the arms of the sweater went well past her hands. She was girly and seemed to be the sweetest of the bunch. Honestly, she was the happiest girl Marinette had ever seen in her entire life. The only time the kid had gotten upset was when she had cried when couldn’t find the stuffed animal she wanted in any of the stores. Marinette had been heartbroken for her. The bluenette didn’t know what a “Rainbow Monkey” was or why it had to be French but she was going to get it for the girl if it was the last thing she did it.

           A bald British boy seemed to be the leader as everyone took direction from him. Marinette had never seen his eyes due to the black glasses he wore. The kid seemed to believe himself to be some sort of superspy. He had a fierce take-charge attitude and barked orders like a pro and preferred to a treehouse their hung out at as headquarters. He didn’t smile often.

           A pretty black girl seemed to be the one with the most sense of the much, and the most style. She wore her hair in a long braid, a blue shirt-dress and an old red cap. The girl had a natural charisma and coolness to her that made Marinette feel awkward in comparison. She seemed to second-in-command .

           The smallest of the bunch was a blond boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and a bright orange hoody. He was loud, brash, and was the “tough guy” of the bunch. He picked a fight with nearly everyone. A fierce little guy that called Marinette a “Ruddy Teenager.”

           However all the kids seemed to dislike adults and teens to some degree. They cast suspicious glances at everyone thirteen and older no matter how nice they were. None of them ever called each other by their names, always opting to follow the rules of whatever game they were playing and called each other by numbers. And always mispronounced the word: number.

           Numbuh 1. Numbuh 2. Numbuh 3. Numbuh 4. Numbuh 5. Marinette hadn’t gotten close enough to figure out who was who but she did suspect the numbers were ranking order or anything. They were probably just random.

           After over two weeks of being stalked, Marinette still hadn’t been able to figure out what they wanted from her. Only that they didn’t know she was Ladybug. It was frustrating.

           She finally got answers one day while walking home from school when she got attacked by an evil cat lady who weaponized her pets, a deranged dentist who put braces on everyone, and a man dressed like toilet. They attempted to kidnap Marinette and raise all out heck on everyone around them. They weren’t Akumas. They were just crazy people.

           The kids fought them back. They saved the day. They saved Marinette. The villains ran with their tails between their legs.

           …Suddenly everything the kids had been doing didn’t seem like a game anymore.

           …Then the kids kidnapped Marinette. The kids jumped her, hogtied her, gagged her, and carried her back to their tree house… which Marinette now realized was way more advanced than any tree house should be. EVER.

           As soon as they got to there, and Marinette was uncharitably tossed on to the couch, the kids panicked.

“We shouldn’tve done this!” Goggles boy chimed. “We weren’t supposed to make contact. Moonbase will decommission us for sure.”

“And let the adults have her, Numbah 2,” The bald boy said. “I think not! We can never let the adults win. Its against everything the Kids Next Door stand for.”

The black girl nodded, “Numbah One’s right, we can’t let Father have what’s in her brain,” She said. “It could destroy the KND!”

“But that’s not possible, Numbah five, we all know that!” The girl in green said. “She got decommissioned. Her brain got all wishy-washy. Right, Numbah Four?”

           The blond boy huffed, “Yeah! Numbah Three’s got a point. And what’s so important about some ruddy teenager anyway? Tell you what! We should drop her artic ocean and never look back.”

           Numbah five groaned, “Are you stupid, boy? They sent Numbuh 274, I mean Chad, after her. And CREE! They wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t important. The supreme leader wouldn’tve sent us to stop them from getting her! Ya moron.”

           Marinette frowned at that. Chad, the handsome foreign exchange student that came to Marinette’s class a few weeks ago. All the girls in school thought he was so dreamy. Even Marinette, even though she had been perplexed at the sad, almost wistful looks he would shoot her when he thought he wasn’t looking. And at the stories he told about his childhood, and woud look at Marinette like he was waiting for her to jump in and finish them. Almost like he knew her. Or expected her to suddenly remember him.

           The same with Cree, a foreign exchange student in a grade above Marinette’s, but to a lesser extent than Chad. The older girl liked to make sly remarks about what being a teen meant where she came from. She cracked what seemed to be inside jokes at Marinette and looked crestfallen when it was clear the bluenette didn’t understand what she meant. Then Cree would grumble about stupid kids ruining everything.

“But WHHHHYYY?” Numbah Four whined. “We got sent a like bajillion miles away to         a city where they force kids to eat bugs and smelly cheese all to protect a teenager. A TEENAGER! And they don’t even tell us why.”

           Numbah Two frowned, “It is kind of strange. I mean we hate teenagers! They’re the worse. Why save this one?” He looked at Marinette like she was specimen in a jar.

“Because team,” Numbah One announced loudly, pausing for, what Marinette knew was, dramatic effect.  “She is Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           Gasps rang through the room. The kids reared back as if struck. Their eyes went wide and they started at Marinette in awe.

“…Or at least she used to be,” Numbah One added.

“Woah,” Numbah Four said, looking at Marinette with newfound respect.

           Numbah Two sqeauled, “This is the best day ever. You have to sign my Yipper card.” He told Marinette. “It’s an ultra-rare collectable. Only three still exists. The rest were destroyed.”

“But, but, but how?” Numbah Five asked, removing her hat. “All records of Numbah Seventy-Two was struck from the history of the KND. Only the supreme leader and her team ever knew what happened to her.”

“They pinky-swore not to tell anyone what happened!” Numbah Three added. “No one would ever break a pinky promise.”

“That’s true,” Numbah five nodded. “No kid ever would. Expecially not her team. She saved us. She saved the KND. She saved the world and made it better for kids everywhere.”

           Numbah One nodded. “Exactly. No kid would ever break the solemn oath. But do you remember just who was one her team?”

           Looks of realization appeared on the kids’ faces, and then anger.

“Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four,” Numbah Five said bitterly. “He was Number Seventy-Two’s second in command for years. And He betrayed her. Why am I not surprised?”

“But why?” Numbah Two asked. “I mean if she was still Numbah Seventy-Two I’d understand. She stopped Principle Boutface from ending summer vacation forever. She stopped Father from making Halloween adults only forever and ever. Name a bad guy, and I can guarantee she kicked their butts! And most importantly she even beat…” Numbah Two paused, clearly afraid. “well you know. She’s done loads of cool things. But She can’t remember anything. So why? Why come get her now?”

“She beat who?” Numbah Four asked. “I don’t know. Who’d she else did she beat? Why were they so important?”

           Numbah One and Five looked away. Both remembered but neither wanted to say anything.

“We were still just little babies when it happened,” Numbah Three answered seriously. “Still finishing training. We never really knew what was going on. Too little for anyone to tell us. We just knew it was bad. Kids were always scared, always hurting…”

“It was a dark time,” Numbah One agreed. “Before Father took over, there was another in charge of the evil adults in the world. But he worse than Father could’ve ever dreamed of being. Kids were scared to go to sleep. They were afraid of their closets and what was under their beds. OF every shadow. No kid would be caught out after dark. They were too scared. Nowhere was safe. No one was safe. Not from him. Not from…”

“The Boogieguy,” Numbah Five finished. “The most powerful leader the adults ever had. The strongest, most evil villain you can imagine. But Numbah Seventy-Two refused to back down. She was the only who could stand up to him. The only one to ever beat him.”

           Numbah Two nodded, “Legend says the Boogieguy had a nasty plan to open a portal to unleash meanest, nastiest monsters another world to get kids to behave better. But Numbah Seventy-Two heard and went to beat him once and for all. And she did too. She trapped him in his own trap. He’s been there ever since!”

Numbah Three added, “Numbah Seventy-Two finally defeated the Boogieguy, she locked him away in a place so scary, so terrifying not even the adults would be willing to go near it. Which it means it has to be really, really, REALLY, scary. Only she knew how to get him out. She used a super-secret password that only she knew. And then, and then she, she!” Numbah Three burst into tears.

Numbah One placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, “To stop the Boogieguy for good, and to make sure no kid ever had to suffer his wrath again, she decommissioned herself. She was only eleven.”

“It was a hard sacrifice, but one kids everywhere will never forget,” Numbah One vowed. “And the Global KND didn’t let it be in vain. We fought back harder than ever before. Her team-”

“But, but,” Numbah Four look around, “She wasn’t even a teenager, why’d she go and do a stupid thing like that for?”

“To save us,” Numbah Five answered, and put her hat back on. She looked at Marinette with hard eyes. “To save the KND, and protect kids everywhere. Because of her, the KND finally turned the tables on adults. We weren’t scared of the dark anymore.”

“Was never the same!” Numbah Five snapped at him. “None of them were ever the same after fighting Boogieguy, after what happened to Numbah Seventy-Two. They couldn’t handle being around each other anymore. They are transferred to different teams. Their entire sector was retired. Number Three Hundred and Sixty-Two. Numbuh Sixty. My sister- Cree! Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four, UGH! Look what they became. Ya don’t need to be decommissioned to not recognize them anymore.”

           It went quiet. The kids not knowing what to say. Marinette had never been so confused in her life. Had she been some sort of Spy kid? Had her memories been erased? What was going on?

           And if everything, the kids were saying was real, and Marinette decided that it was, then she was a little peeved at Chad and Cree, her old teammates apparently, for going against everything this KND had accomplished… That Marinette had apparently sacrificed herself for. And what for? To side with some evil adults?

“…The KND have figured out a way to destroy Boogieguy forever,” Numbah one said. “Unfortunately the adults have also become aware of the Boogieguy’s location and want release him. In order for either side to succeed in their mission, we need Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           All eyes turned back to Marinette.

Numbah Five cast a sad look at Numbah Seventy-Two, Marinette, “Chad and Cree will come for her.” Of that Numbah five was certain. The lone picture of ABC that sat next to Cree’s bedside nightstand was proof enough of that. It was the only thing her big sister ever kept of her KND days, apart from her memories. The only “little kid” thing she didn’t scorn. “They won’t stop until they get her. I don’t think Cree or Chad ever forgave the KND agreeing that Numbah Seventy-Two should erase her memories.”

           They never forgave themselves for letting her, Abby didn’t add.

“She was decommissioned, hello!” Numbah Two reminded them. “She can’t remember anything.”

           Number One took off his glasses and looked at the teenager who, in another life, had been everything he ever dreamed of being in the KND. She was a legend. A hero. She had, once, been the best of them all. “She will.”

[jinxfirebolt18902]

Shameless Flirting - JJ Maybank One Shot

Words: 1.428

Warnings: swearing

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook female!reader

A/N / Summary: back in January I found a request on someone else’s post that read: “The death squad Top, Rafe and Kelce with the reader/oc. She’s a kook  girl version of JJ and it’s just her and and JJ shamelessly flirting with each other (neither pogues or kooks like that) but”. So I guess that’s it. Got a part 2 in drafts.

(pic not mine)

—Take a picture, it’ll last longer bae.

She smiled winningly at him as Topper rolled his eyes and walked away towards Kelce. —Oh yeah? But then what would I do with a picture of you?

—Well, you know, whenever you get lonely at night —she playfully hit him. —Shut up JJ.

—You could also use it as your lock screen. —he winked and smirked.

She half laughed and replied —Yeah, I bet you’d love that.

—Oh, you should totally do it.

John B called JJ’s name from where he sat with Kie and Pope on the beach. Charlotte quickly took her chance and snapped a picture of him from her angle, a little behind him. The photograph showed JJ nonchalantly leaning against the wooden structure she was sitting on, only the upper half of his body with his grey tank top and his usual hat. His neck with a few strands of blonde hair could be seen as well as only a part of his face, which was looking at John B. It was very aesthetic, the sun was close to setting so the sky was turning darker with different colours including orange, contrasting with JJ’s grey shirt but also highlighting his blonde hairs and tanned skin.

The sound of her camera phone taking the picture made him spin his head to look at her and ignore John B as he gave her a seducing smile. She laughed and then dropped her body to her feet. —Go mister, the public awaits. —she lingeringly kissed his cheek on purpose to tease him as she always did before turning on her heels and head towards her friends. He stood there for half a second just to get out of her effect and went with his friends as well.

—Finally Charles! Rafe was about to go pick you up. —Kelce told you as Rafe nodded in agreement next to him.

—Sorry guys, but here I am, all for yourselves boys! —she smiled and tried to ease the tension Rafe and especially Topper felt due to her flirting with the Pogue they hated the most.

JJ kind of experienced a similar situation with his own crew. Kie not even looking at him, Pope was wearing an expression of disgust and John B was trying his best to hold his tongue. JJ took a beer can and ignored his friends’ dislike of his flirting with the second Kook they despised most, the first one being Rafe.

-x-

Sarah and Rafe had agreed for once to throw a pool party together when their dad and Rose left a few days for business. This meant although the majority of the guests would be Kooks, on Sarah’s behalf there would also be a certain Pogue crew as well as some Tourons of course.

—Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! —Rafe, Top and Kelce boosted Charlotte as she downed the drink being poured into the beer bong funnel.

—Wohooo! Damn that was nice! —She exclaimed as she cleaned the drops falling down her chin with the back of her hand.

Rafe threw an arm over her shoulders —This is our girl boys! —she grabbed the hand that hung over her right shoulder as she laughed.

—Told you this one was a keeper! —Topper added.

JJ had been watching her chug and interact with the three men. To be honest he didn’t want to come. Although the whole group tried their best to avoid Kooks, JJ was particularly reluctant to party at the Kook kingdom. Only after Sarah ensured they’d be safe they all agreed to go. Under Sarah and Kiara’s wing, they would be okay. At least as long as John B or JJ didn’t start a fight.

—JJ! —Kie’s voice brought his attention back to their conversation. He gulped his beer down and laughed at Pope’s anecdote.

A few meters away Charlotte heard a peculiar laugh that captured her interest and so she directed her look at the blonde. She couldn’t stop a smile that didn’t go unnoticed by Rafe.

An hour later she was sitting at the pool’s edge with her legs in the water as she listened to Kelce tell a story about his last trip to Costa Rica.

—Yo guys, I’ll be right back, gotta pee. Someone wants a drink? —she asked.

—I’ve got us an Appleton hidden at the top of the bookshelf near the stairs, bring it. —Rafe spoke.

—An Appleton? Uuh fancy —she moved her eyebrows up and down quickly making him laugh.

When she saw the queue to get in the bathroom downstair she didn’t waste a second deciding to go to the one next to Rafe’s bedroom. As she was opening the white door she heard someone clearing their throat. She looked up and found a rather provoking JJ resting his back on a wall. Immediately a mischievous smile appeared on her face.

—Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in… —he rolled his eyes and took a step towards her, circling his right arm around her waist to bring her closer and leave a tender kiss on her cheek. Caught by surprise, she felt blood rushing to her cheeks at the unexpected greeting. Such reaction only made the boy more confident, letting go of her to give her a beguiling smile.

—Whatcha doin’ up here gorgeous? —a more serious look on his face now.

—Oh nothing, just gotta use the bathroom. What about you though? What are you doing up here? Doesn’t seem like your comfort zone, you know, away from your gang and in the enemy’s territory… —she winked.

—Not gonna lie, I was looking for something good to drink.

—Up here?

He grimaced. —No secret that the rich hide their best collections. —he lifted his shoulders and pouted, not giving a care in the world about voicing his bad intentions.

She smiled and nodded. —Okay then, good luck on your treasure hunt, I’m gonna go to the toilet now. —she turned to the door but stopped before going in, she spoke once again —Oh and, if you want my advice, I’d look into bookshelves.

He watched her disappear into the tiled room and kept looking for a bottle worth stealing. By the time she came out he was already standing in front of the bathroom door with a bottle attached to his lips.

She raised an eyebrow at her sight. —I see you’ve been successful on your hunt. —she walked to stand next to him and grabbed the bottle to put it in her mouth. He watched her attentively, not being able to stop himself from staring at her every move. His eyes set on the way her lips embraced the bottle spout, on the movement of her throat as she swallowed the liquid and on the tip of her pink tongue licking her lips when she finished. She turned to him and softly closed his mouth with her hand.

—Careful, you’re drooling babe. —with that she left down the stairs to reunite with her group.

As she was looking for the Appleton, she felt Rafe’s voice behind her, startling her.

—What took you so long? —Sorry, I run into someone.

Just as she finished her sentence JJ passed by and sent a defiant glare at the Cameron. The latter set a deathly glare on him as well and mumbled. —Of course you fucking did.

—Actually, I don’t think dirty pogues like you are welcomed in my party. —Rafe stood in front of JJ threateningly. Maybank, being no coward, bit his lip and prepared himself to fight. Before anything else happened, Charlotte stepped between them facing her friend. —Oookay, no need to get heated now, right?

The two boys seemed to be in a staring contest, angry expressions and slightly agitated breathings on both of them. She put a hand on Rafe’s shoulder trying to get him to focus on her and not on the blonde. —C’mon dude, lets go outside and drink this bad boy, I know you wanna. —she tried to lighten the mood but failed miserably. Magically, her silent pleas for Sarah or any of JJ friends to come help her became true as Sarah walked in on the three, getting a hold of the situation immediately.

—Rafe cut it, we talked about this. —Rafe looked at her sister and huffed. Sarah hurried to grab JJ’s hand to take him away from his death. Once they were a few feet away Charlotte grabbed Rafe’s hand and tugged to stop him from looking at Maybank and go back to the pool to keep drinking.

[laurenwritesfics]

The Pieces We Leave Behind

CHAPTER ONE: FRANK

Mary had buried herself in books again. She was a curious and intelligent young girl, but her love of reading was turning into obsession. So much so that Frank was beginning to worry about Vitamin D deficiency. She looked a little too pale. He usually hauled her out of her chair – met with screams and slaps of protestation – and took her to the beach or the park for ice cream, but today, he was piling her into the car to meet with the school principal. Mary had been accused of bullying, and Frank wasn’t going to let it stand.

“This is so stupid.” Mary huffed and crossed her arms. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know, just get in the car.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her backpack off her shoulder, throwing it onto the seat beside her. The engine of Frank’s 1974 sedan sputtered to life. Frank’s mother Evelyn called it a rickety rust-bucket, but it was his pride and joy – second only to his sweet, silly niece, who was currently sulking in the back seat.

That was the thing about Frank Adler. He didn’t fix broken things, he just knew when something was worth saving. He saw potential that nobody else could.

He was the first to break away from the family. He was tired, he said, of living a Stepford lie.

This was how he came to be Mary’s guardian. After the death of his sister Diane, the Adler family was irreparably splintered. In the midst of Evelyn’s grief, she had swept Mary up into a life she would never become accustomed to - piano lessons, private school, badminton, early bedtime and absolutely no television.

At just seven years old, Mary was wide-eyed and wise. A headstrong child who sometimes alarmed Evelyn with her ability to face the world fearlessly. Her teachers referred to her as ‘gifted’, which made Evelyn’s eyes light up. She was just like Diane. That was the beginning of the end of Mary’s childhood. Night after night, she would be tucked into bed with a book. As the months went by, childhood favorites were replaced with educational textbooks. Mornings started with a pop quiz. Her social circle grew smaller. She eventually found herself so frustrated by her restrictive life with Evelyn that she once threatened to run away, as children often do. But Evelyn knew that Mary meant it. So when it did finally happen, the thing that shocked her the most was not the act itself, but the fact that, of all people, Mary ran to Frank for help.

At ten years old, Diane scored her first grade A in mathematics. From that moment on, Evelyn decided to live vicariously through her daughter. She had devoted her youth to solving the Navier–Stokes problem (one of the unsolved Millennium Prize Problems), but had never been successful. Frank was the only one who saw her slowly disappear. Forced into a mold that didn’t fit her. He watched Diane suffer through countless socialite soirées, nodding politely, eyes glazed. He was the last person to call her. He found her. He blamed Evelyn.

She would never believe that the cause of death was suicide. Diane was so happy, she said. So intelligent. So perfect. Of course, perfection didn’t exist. She learned this a mere month later when her marriage fell apart.

Mary was the only piece of Diane that was left.

Frank knew that if Mary stayed in Boston with his mother, history would repeat itself. So he intervened. He sent care packages all the way from Florida. They called each other weekly. Six months into what Frank referred to as her kidnapping, he received a phone call in the middle of the night. She was uncharacteristically subdued. Whispering. Her voice trembled. She was trapped. Four hours later he was bundling her into a taxi. It wasn’t going to happen again. Not on his watch.

Evelyn would never forgive him, but he didn’t care. Frank loved his mother – he always would – he just didn’t like her.

The more time Mary spent in Florida, the more she began to dislike Evelyn, too.

It was an unspoken rule that Evelyn was informed of Mary’s achievements. She didn’t much care for the other things – the friendships, the slumber parties, the times she cried herself to sleep from stress and in fear of bullies – those were Frank’s problems. The only problems she cared about were mathematical. She didn’t visit on Mary’s seventh birthday, but she did attend the parent-teacher conference that came after it. Frank was sure that if Evelyn set foot in the principal’s office she would have a heart attack on the spot. So, here he was, driving Mary to school to correct the misinformed adults who believed that his niece was capable of hurting another child.

“Slow down!” Mary caught Frank’s eye in the rear-view mirror. “Mom said never go to bed or drive angry.”

“I’m not angry.” He said, almost flatly enough to mask his frustration.

“Yes you are.”

Frank tapped his index finger on the steering wheel. He counted to ten in his head, exhaling slowly.

“Fine, I’m angry.” He admitted. “These stuck-up bastards don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Don’t swear.” Mary chided.

“Sorry.”

A short woman with a thin, pinched face emerged from the principal’s office.

Mary was leaning against the window, chin in her palm, counting the trees that passed by, partly to keep herself occupied, partly to quell the anxiety that was swirling inside her. She was always quiet, focussed, and polite. She went out of her way to make friends with the other children. This was entirely unfair. Back in Boston, she had spent time in almost every school in the city – co-ed, prep school, all-girls, but she never stayed too long. She was either too inquisitive, too restless, or – ironically – too smart. Sometimes it felt as though she didn’t belong anywhere at all.

Weaving through the long line of cars in the school parking lot, Frank stopped awkwardly and swung himself out of the car, keeping tight hold of Mary’s hand as they made their way inside. The occasional echo of chatter and footsteps cut through the otherwise silent hallway. The closer they got to the office, the easier it was for Mary to breathe. It was going to work out. Frank would take care of it. He had a talent for charming people into submission.

“Who’s that?” Frank straightened his shirt, still stained with oil and sweat from an afternoon spent fixing up a boat for a local fisherman.

“Mrs Weston.” Mary half-whispered, shrinking in her chair a little. “We hate her.”

Frank huffed, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yes we do.”

Then, an interruption from a harsh, husky voice.

“Mary Adler?”

Frank turned to Mary, slapping the arm of the chair. “Looks like we’re up, kiddo. You okay?” He tilted his head in concern.

“I guess.” Mary shrugged, her shoulders sinking for a moment before she pushed herself forward and took hold of Frank’s hand again.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and roamed over the two of them. She pursed her lips, paused, and finally spoke.

“Principal Mitchell is unavailable this morning.” She said curtly. “Vice-Principal Madeline Weston. Come in.”

Rustling papers. The pronounced tick-tick-tock of the clock on the wall. An awkward cough. Frank shifted in his seat, a creak eliciting from beneath the adult weight it clearly wasn’t made to support. Leaning out of a slouch, elbows resting on his knees, he tented his fingers and waited for the inevitable stretching of the truth. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, locking eyes with the woman who clearly didn’t know Mary at all.

“Do your worst.” Frank muttered not quite far enough under his breath.

“I take it you’ve done this before, Mr Adler?”

“Once or twice.”

A judgemental hum. “Then I’m sure you know why you’re here today. Mr Adler, your daughter-“

“She’s my niece.”

Madeline crossed her legs and adjusted her lapels. “Your niece is disruptive. She is preventing the other students from learning.”

“How, exactly?”

“Interruptions. Selfishness. Questions in math class are answered almost exclusively by Miss Adler.”

“Yeah, probably because she’s the only one who knows the answer.” Frank scoffed.

“Do not insult the quality of education provided at this school, Mr Adler.”

“I’m insulting the students. Mary can do so much better than here. She’s so smart – too smart.” His voice deepened, even and impassioned. “If you just took the time to get to know her-“

Madeline cut him off. “We don’t get to know the children here, Mr Adler. We encourage their talents.”

Frank tried and failed to fight the push in his calves compelling him to stand up. He tapped Mary’s shoulder and made his way to the door. Whether she liked it or not, Evelyn was going to hear about this.

“This is bullshit. Mary, we’re done here.”

Launching herself out of her chair with a scowl, Mary followed Frank back into the hallway.

“So that’s the Wicked Witch of the West, huh?”

Mary exploded into laughter.

The sun beat down on the asphalt as they re-entered the parking lot, hands pressing against searing metal, the air thick and musty inside the car. Frank adjusted the rear-view mirror, turned the key and hooked his arm around the passenger seat as he pulled away.

“Buckle up, genius. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Read chapter one HERE. Read the full series on AO3.

Permanent taglist: @hiddelstannerbarnes  @redlipstickandblacktea @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ @djeniiscorner​ @its-tortle​ @k347​ @ixalit​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​ @cevansfics​ @capchrisevaans​ @hawkeyeandthewintersoldier​ @musette22​ @mcubabydotcom​ @worksby-d​ @chuckbass-love​ @bluemusickid​ @fallinforevans​ @hellobeautworld​ @katiew1973​ @just-dreaming-marvel​ @disaster-dean​ @rebthom89​ @navybrat817​ @just-dreaming-marvel-2​

@denisemarieangelina​​​​ @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss​​​​ @brattycherubwrites​​​​ @cherrychris​​​​ @celestialbarnes​​​​​ @the-iceni-bitch​​​​ @caplanbuckybarnes​​​​​ @caplanreads​​​​​ @autumnrose40​​​ @mashep23​

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

Something more infinite (George Weasley x reader) ch. 4

Chapter 4. What? Can’t a guy compliment his nemesis on her dress? 

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6 | 7 (final) |

word count: 2.1K 

Warnings: none. 

When your mother wrote to you sometime in November to ask how your sixth year had been going, you didn’t know what to say. It had been different so far, George had been more relaxed in his approach to you, in fact you rarely clashed anymore. Mostly he’d handed a couple of comments to you during classes but had seemed to be swallowed up by getting people to bet on the triwizard tournament. You hadn’t made any bets yet. You yourself had been busy with something else, or rather someone else. This guy named Lewis in your year had changed over the summer, suddenly he was like seven feet tall, and his hair had become this glorious, swoopy mess, his cheeks dimpled when he smiled at you, a gleam in his eyes (that you could swear was only there when he was looking at you) that made you weak. You’d fallen hard for him and you didn’t exactly know how to handle it. This was the first time a boy had made you feel this way, and you were torn between wanting the attention and love of Lewis and not wanting to interract with him out of fear that you’d say something stupid and confess your love for him. Your friends had quickly noticed your crush though (you were not subtle about it, after all) and after a bit of pressuring from them, a lot of pep talks and a couple house parties, you and Lewis were on good terms. You’d sit together at meals, go on walks by the lake and study together. You savoured every second you spent together, and when the yule ball was announced, you couldn’t wait for him to ask you to the ball. While you waited for him, you entertained yourself by watching George struggle slightly to find a date. It seemed that years of pranking had narrowed down the amount of girls willing to entrust “the most magical night of their lives so far” to Fred and George Weasley considerably. Fred had asked Angelina, though George couldn’t seem to find a date yet.

And it was driving him insane. How everyone managed to find partners so quickly was beyond George, as he’d been politely turned down for the second time, just on that day. Every girl’s answer was the same: “Sorry, George, it’s not that I don’t want to, I just feel like I want to spend the night with a guy who’s a bit more serious about the whole thing, y’know?” 

He knew they didn’t mean it as an insult, he understood how some girls probably had a certain vision for the yule ball. But he was still a good enough date, right? It’s not like he was actively planning on annoying his date with pranks or jokes….unless? 

“Hey L/n!” George broke out into a sprint to catch up with you as you excited the charms classroom, you turned and looked at him with a confused expression, 

“Yeah?” You asked, mostly looking like someone who just wants to turn around and go to lunch, 

“Have you perchance found a date for the yule ball?” He figured it was best to just ask you outright, and to his surprise (and maybe adding to his frustration) you burst into laughter, 

“You’re joking, right?” You say, still chuckling, 

“No?” 

“You don’t want to take me to the yule ball, Weasley,” you say, “We both know that. I actually plan on having a nice night, so even if I was available I’d have to say no, as much as I’m sure you’d be...something of a date,” you say, 

“Wait hold on,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “you’ve got a date?” 

“Yes, as shocking as that seems,” you say, your voice slick with sarcasm, “I have,” 

“Who?” 

“You know Lewis? Ravenclaw. Our year,” You say, “Gorgeous, and he actually likes me, hence why I said yes to him, and not you,” you chide, 

“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a crush,” George replies, feeling more annoyed than ever, if there was anything he hated it was when you had the upper hand, and the way you were talking about your date didn’t help, he couldn’t say he remembered a Lewis from your year, but based on your short description, 

“I don’t like him,” 

Fred and Lee share a look from across sofas in the common room, George is sat in an armchair, arms crossed, 

“Why?” Lee asks, “You hardly know the bloke?” 

Yeah, why did George dislike this Lewis? now that it was pointed out to him, George actually did struggle to pinpoint what exactly had bothered him so much that he’d spent the rest of the day sulking over your description of your date,

“I just do,” George resorted to replying, as it was easier than confessing his true, very confusing thoughts, “Probably just cause I associate him with Y/n,” he grumbled, sinking further into the armchair. Another glance was shared between Fred and Lee, 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Fred replied quickly, George sat up. He knew Fred too well, “What, Fred?” 

“It’s just-” Began Lee, fidgeting with his wand, 

“Well,” Fred stumbled over his articulation as he adjusted himself in his seat, 

“Spit it out, will you?” 

“It’s just we’ve noticed, you’re different around her,” Lee says, George shot him a puzzled look, 

“What’s he on about?” He asked Fred, 

“Mate, you’ve sort of developed a habit for seeking her out, despite insisting that you hate her,” Fred explained, “With that sort of behavior we’re bound to assume- I mean we can’t help but think that-” he trailed off as George’s expression hardened, 

“You’ve maybe got a tiny thing for her?” Lee said, with an expression like he’d just stuck his finger into a loaded mouse-trap, 

“WHAT?” George exclaimed, “I absolutely do not have a thing for her!” He stood up, 

“Come on, George, we don’t mean that as an insult,” Lee said, 

“Well I take it as one,” George said, trodding towards the dorms with haste, “You’re out of your minds if you think I’d ever fall for someone like her!” He says, taking the stairs at three steps at a time, slamming the door behind him, and leaning against it while his heart pounded in his chest, his hands flying to his hair. Long fingers ran through long locks of ginger hair, as he swallowed hard, 

“Oh. Oh fuck me.” 

***

The yule ball really was magical, you had to admit. You and Lewis had had a blast thus far, dancing for the majority of the night, he’d introduced you to one of his friends named Michael and his date, a gorgeous girl from Beauxbatons, and you’d sat together and talked in the few moments you hadn’t been on the dance floor. At one point, the music had slowed and you’d gone to get a drink, Michael accompanying you, after you’d grabbed a glass of punch, you’d stood by the table with drinks and looked out over the crowd of students dancing, 

“You know, you’re really beautiful,” Michael said beside you, you turn to look at him in surprise, 

“Oh,” you said, not knowing what to say, 

“I don’t mean to sound creepy or anything,” Michael says, not a good start. you think to yourself, “It’s just that I noticed you a while back and I just think you’re really good looking and well, Lewis promised he’d introduce us since you were going to the ball together and-” He continued to babble as he stared at his feet, but you had stopped listening, your stomach sinking, 

“What?” You asked, Michael looked like a deer in headlights, 

“What?” He stammers, 

“What did you say about Lewis introducing you?” you asked in a hollow voice, 

“Well, you see, I told him that I fancied you, and he told me he’d introduce me to you, if I’d introduce him to my date, Vivienne, you see he-” You’d heard enough, almost instinctively, your head turned and found Lewis, as he’s leaned in, kissing Vivienne passionately. You felt as if the air had been punched out of you. Everything seemed distant, just as it had as you’d fallen from your broom the year before, you don’t hear Michael talking. You don’t hear the music. You don’t hear or sense anything. Your vision had blurred on all except Lewis and Vivienne as your intestines form knots inside you. You felt sick. You felt like crying. You felt far too hot and so you left. Tears were already streaming down your face as you wandered away from the great hall. A pair of footsteps could be heard on the stones behind you and without turning around you yelled out: 

“Leave me alone, Michael, I just want to be alone!” You yell, your voice breaking, 

***

George had had an alright time at the ball, after his little realisation he’d come to the conlusion that maybe he did have a little thing for you, but so what? It’s just a dumb crush, he couldn’t help that you’d grown up to become incredibly attractive. He’d sworn to himself to keep this crush to himself, it wasn’t to come between yours and his rivalry. After all he was sure you felt nothing similar for him at all, so why would he spend time on it? No. To pine after you would be a suicide mission, so instead he’d happily agreed to go to the ball with Katie Bell, after she’d confessed that she hadn’t found a date yet, in fact, she’d planned on going with some friends,  

“But if it matters so much to you, George, then sure, I’ll go with you,” she’d said. And going to the ball with Katie had been great, they were good friends and essentially the night culminated in their entire friend group hanging out and dancing together, the boys making a game out of trying to spike the punch as much as possible without being caught. George had, however, allowed his warmer feelings for you take over every now and then, and he had found himself looking around the great hall, scanning the faces of students in an attempt to find you, though he hadn’t found you until you were leaving, seemingly in a hurry, and curiosity got the better of him. 

***

“Who’s Michael?” George asks, stopping in his tracks, 

You spin around, wiping a tear off your face, 

“Oh, not you, please, not you,” you say, putting a hand out in front of you, you were hurt enough, you did not need George adding to that hurt. George opened his mouth as if about to say something but he didn’t speak, not at first, his face softened a little when he noticed how you were sniffling, 

“Are you alright?” he asked, not knowing where this gentle tone was coming from, 

“What do you think?” You snap, stifling a sob, you begin to walk away, but George follows, his feet moving almost automatically, and you’re just so fed up, you turn on your heel, 

“Oh for Godrick’s sake! ok, just come on then!” You sputter, trying to sound stoic and challenging as always but even you can hear how pathetic your words sound in between sobs, “just insult me! tease me! call me names like you always do! What do you care if I’m actually hurt and don’t have time for your bullshit right now?!” you bellow hoarsely,

There’s a prolonged silence between you as you turn away from him and let the sobs rake through your body, whilst trying to choke back your tears to the point of feeling as if your throat will split open. If only you could turn around and leave. But you’re unable to face him, unable to bear him seeing you so weak and small. He doesn’t say anything but you can feel his gaze on you. It burns into your back, 

“You look really pretty tonight.” He truly doesn’t know where that came from either, 

“Oh fuck off, Weasley,” you choke, 

“What? it’s true,” he says, “Maybe we’re not friends but I’ve got eyes, y’ know.” You turn around, confusion and rising anger stifling your crying. You can feel the thick streaks of mascara on your cheeks, it’s blocking parts of your vision in grey clouds but you stare directly into his unusually soft eyes, 

What the fuck was he on about? 

“You’re right, Weasley,” You say, stepping forward, “We most certainly are not friends.” You bump into him on purpose, and once again you’ve forgotten the muscles he’s gained from quidditch and as soon as you turn the corner your cold hand finds your now aching shoulder. Great, you think to yourself, a perfect ending to a perfect night. 

taglist: @schlongbottom​ @cardboardbenmazzello​ @unseensilver​ @quie-pls @mochamiilk 

Let me know if you want to be added :))  

[auror-lovie]

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) (Theseus Scamander)

━━━•✦.✧. Author’s Note.✧.✦•━

Second writing challenge??? LET’S GO.

Also, I’m trying out a new editing thing. So may be I’ll be using a mix of moodboards and character banners??? I don’t know, tell me how the aesthetic feels.

Congrats Haley ( @wand3ringr0s3​ )!!! To one of my lovely motivators, you deserve all the followers and so much more! Sending all the love and support!

A big thanks to @weasleysflowr​ and her fic for this challenge! Thanks to your fic, it gave me the motivation to bust my butt off and finish this AT 2 AM. Love ya, Ayli!!!

━━━━━•✦.✧. About .✧.✦•━

(Y/N) didn’t mean to fall in love with him- she was only doing her job.

━━━━━•✦.✧. Add- Ons .✧.✦•━

It’s about time I start sharing my man with the readers (Sorry I’m such a simp for Theseus-)

Preface: Theseus and Leta are not engaged in this universe.

Angst, but what’s new?

Dialogue heavy

Character death :)

(Okay, I REALLY LOVE WRITING ANGSTY THETORIA CONTENT, HUH. WHETHER IT BE PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC-)

I usually write Theseus and Victoria with perfect personalities… I hope this fic will change that and I can start writing more of their ugly sides.

━━━━━━•✦.✧.☾.✧.✦•━━━━━

Haley’s 1.9K Writing Challenge:

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love): Theseus Scamander x Reader

━━━━━━•✦.✧.☾.✧.✦•━━━━━

“You’re so pretty, why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

Was the question that (Y/N) received on a near day to day basis. Some from colleagues, some from distant relatives, and some from random people who tried to ask her out on a date.

To answer that question would take a whole other story, but to keep it short: She was hurt by first love. (Y/N) loved him with all her heart and he repaid her by falling in love and running away with another woman.

(Y/N) was a hopeless romantic and she was aware of that. All the romance novels that the muggles always talked about- she read them. All the romance films- she watched them. When her fellow Aurors were in relationships, she felt joy and happiness swell in her heart.

Though she desperately wanted a boyfriend, she was afraid. Afraid that one day, he’d leave her. So she kept her heart locked away. Besides, there was no time for romance- not in the midst of a war. Rumors of Grindelwald gathering more members for his “organization” spread through the Auror department like wildfire.

Under the temporary direction of Head Auror Victoria Howard, missions were successful. Despite feeling anxious, she led her fellow Aurors with confidence and determination. Yes, there were casualties, but that was the price of any mission.

Victoria always had a weird feeling about (Y/N). (Y/N) was sweet, nurturing, and quite intelligent. She was a great Auror, but something didn’t sit right with her. These feelings amplified when War Hero, Theseus Scamander, came into the picture.

Theseus walked into the room full of Aurors behind Victoria and Travers. “As you all know, the Head Auror Howard will be stepping down and Theseus Scamander will be taking her place.”

Declarations of distress echoed throughout the room. “But sir, Miss Howard was leading us just fine!” An Auror argued.

Before Travers could stupidly respond, Victoria took a step forward. “I know some of you may not agree with the changes, but Mister Scamander is a great leader. I think he’ll bring us farther than I ever could.”

Theseus nodded and patted Victoria’s shoulder. “One of the reasons why I’m a great leader is because of her. She’s always pushing me to be the best. So I hope I can lead you all to victory to the best of my abilities.”

After the formalities, Victoria had led Theseus around the room to get to know his fellow partners. He got along with most of them. The ones he didn’t get along with were the ones still slightly upset about the change, but he paid no mind to it. Then they got to (Y/N).

“Hello, Mr. Scamander. I’m (Y/N) (L/N) and I’m looking forward to working under your direction.” (Y/N) greeted happily.

Victoria felt her stomach twist up in knots, but didn’t let it show. Was she jealous? No- something didn’t feel right about (Y/N) and she was determined to find out.

“Well, Miss (L/N), I’m looking forward to working with you as well. Victoria has said amazing things about you.” Theseus replied.

•✦.✧.☾.✧.✦•

It had only been three months and he asked (Y/N) out on a date.

Victoria was in Leta’s office, pacing back and forth.

“Three months. Three months, Leta! And he’s already made his move on her!” Victoria ranted.

Leta sighed, rubbing her temples. “From what I’m hearing, I’m assuming you’re… jealous.”

Victoria stopped pacing and glared at her friend. “I’m not jealous, Leta. I’m over-protective. I trust my intuition and I know that (Y/N) girl is up to no good.”

“Have you talked to Theseus about it?”

“W-Well… No…” She trailed off.

“Then that’s your problem, Vi.”

Victoria sighed and plopped herself on a chair. “I swear… That girl’s got something to hide…”

~*~*~

To say he had a crush was an understatement. No- Theseus was in love with her.

“Wow. What a day. First that restaurant and then a nice walk in the park?” Theseus started as he and (Y/N) walked into a nearby park.

They both chuckled, Theseus shoving his hands in his pockets. “I didn't know that playing hooky could be so much fun.”

(Y/N) smiled. “Yeah. Neither did I.”

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

“Oh, don't thank me just yet. Oh!” She exclaimed, tripping on a crack in the pavement, falling into Theseus’ arms.

“Careful. I guess being quick and light on your feet only applies to the mission field, huh?” Theseus teased.

“Sorry,” (Y/N) laughed nervously. “I’m a klutz.”

“Oh? Well, maybe you better sit down for a while.” He said, carrying her to a nearby bench and they sat down.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, ignoring the blush rising to her cheeks. “So, uh, do you have any problems with things like… this?”

Theseus cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Uh…”

“Klutzes, I mean.”

“Oh. Uh, no. Not really.” He shrugged.

(Y/N) moved closer to him. “No weaknesses whatsoever? No mundane worries?”

“What are you getting at, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N), moving even closer to him. “No… insecurities?”

“E-Everyone has insecurities and worries. I worry about losing the people I care most about. My parents, my brother, Victoria, Leta…” He paused. “You.” He mumbled.

“What was that?” She asked.

“Nothing!” Theseus cleared his throat. “It was nothing.” He said, finally stood up from the bench. “Let’s just get back before people notice that we’ve been gone for most of the afternoon.”

~*~*~

Theseus and (Y/N) quickly made their way into the Ministry Headquarters, making sure to stay out of sight. They ran up to the Auror department without causing a scene.

When they reached the door to (Y/N)’s office, they stopped outside to catch their breath.

“Pretty Boy… You are... perfect.” (Y/N) said between breaths.

“Thanks…” Theseus paused. “You know, as a kid, I was expected to set high standards. I was Quidditch captain, Head Boy, and took as many NEWT level classes as I could. I think that’s why my brother dislikes me so much.” He chuckled, resting his head against the wall. “I just… I just wanted to be like every other guy.”

She scoffed. “You wanted to be petty and dishonest?”

“Not everyone is like that.”

“Yes, they are.” (Y/N) said softly.

Theseus turned his gaze to her. “You're not like that.”

“How do you know what I'm like?” She spat.

Theseus took her tone as a defense mechanism. “All I know is... You're the most amazing person I've ever met. (Y/N), when I'm with you I don't feel so... alone.”

“Sometimes it's better to be alone.” She said, rubbing her upper arms.

“What makes you say that?” He asked, pushing himself off the wall.

“Nobody can hurt you.” (Y/N) said, trying her best to not look at him.

“I would never ever hurt you.” Theseus quickly replied.

(Y/N) turned to face him, not realizing how close they were to each other. “And I don't wanna hurt you, so... let's both do ourselves a favor and stop this before we-”

Their lips moved in close for a kiss, but the moment before it happened, a voice interrupted them.

“All right, break it up! I’ve been looking all over the Ministry for you.” Victoria said as she came into view.

(Y/N) groaned in annoyance once she realized who it was. “Calm down, Victoria. It was all my fault.”

“I already have a bone to pick with you, so don't make it worse,” Victoria said, glaring at (Y/N).

“And as for you,” She looked at Theseus. Theseus looked at her before quickly avoiding her stare. “You’re lucky I saved your arse from Travers. We had a meeting today and you were supposed to lead it, but no. You decided to play hooky.”

“Okay, okay…” Theseus said, feeling like a child being reprimanded by their parent. As much as he deserved it, he hated it when she scolded him.

“I'm sorry.” (Y/N) said softly.

He let out a half-hearted chuckle. “Ah, she'll get over it,” Theseus said, facing her. He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek.

“Come on, Theseus. We have work to do.” Victoria said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Theseus gave (Y/N) a smile before walking off with Victoria.

(Y/N) was left alone, her hand touching the cheek he’d kissed minutes ago. “Oh, what's the matter with me? You'd think a girl would learn.”

“(Y/N)! You’re finally here! I have things to discuss with you.”

(Y/N) quickly turned around to see Leta. “L-Leta!”

Leta smiled. “Don’t worry. Unlike Victoria, I won’t go all Mama Bear on you. Shall we discuss this in your office?” She asked, gesturing to the door.

She nodded. “Of course!”

Once inside, Leta and (Y/N) sat on the chairs. “So, tell me everything! How was your date?”

(Y/N) blushed lightly. “I-It was hardly a date. It was more of an… extended lunch.”

“Come on, spill the details! Do you like him?” Leta asked excitedly.

“What? O-Of course not.” She sighed, reminiscing on her first love. She would not fall victim to love- not again. “If there's a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I've already won that. No man is worth the aggravation. That's ancient history been there, done that.”

“Are you kidding? He’s the Earth and Heaven to you! You may try to keep it hidden, but honey, I can see right through you.” Leta replied.

“Oh, no. That’s preposterous! I can’t possibly be-”

“I know how you feel. I can see it in your eyes, (Y/N). You’re in lo-”

“No way. It's too cliche,” (Y/N) quickly interrupted.

“(Y/N), just listen-” Leta started again.

“Get off my case, Leta…” She trailed off.

Leta sighed, patting (Y/N)’s shoulder. “It's okay if you're in love…”

(Y/N) looked at Leta and smiled, relaxing in her chair. “At least at loud, I won't say I'm in love.”

After a while, Leta had left and (Y/N) sat at her desk to complete her piling paperwork. All was silent until-

“Hey, what's the buzz, huh, (Y/N)? What is the weak link in the Pretty Boy's chain?” A voice asked.

“Get yourself another girl, I'm through.” (Y/N) replied, exhausted.

“I'm sorry. Do you mind running that by me again? I must have had a chunk of stone wedged in my ear or something.” said Grindelwald as he came into view from the shadows.

“Then read my lips! Forget it!” She said, slamming her hands on her desk and glaring at him.

Grindelwald chuckled darkly. “(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N), my sweet deluded little minion. Aren't we forgetting one teensy-weensy, but ever so crucial little, tiny detail? I own you!”

“I’ll just apologize for snapping at them and not considering their relationship… Whatever they are…” Victoria mumbled to herself as she walked to (Y/N)’s office.

Grindelwald continued, “You work for me! If I say, "sing", you say, "Hey, name that tune" If I say, "I want Pretty Boy’s head on a platter," you say-”

“Medium or well done,” (Y/N) sassed back.

Victoria gasped softly as she heard a snippet of their argument from the opposite side of the door. “Oh! I knew that girl was trouble. This is gonna break Theseus’ heart.”

“I'll work on that.” (Y/N) mumbled.

Victoria quietly ran back to Theseus’ office to give him the news.

“I'm sorry... You hear that sound? That's the sound of your freedom fluttering out the window forever.” Grindelwald continued, his hand moving in a shoo-ing motion.

“I don't care. I'm not gonna help you hurt him.” (Y/N) said, her voice cracking.

“I can't believe you're getting so worked up about some guy.” He said nonchalantly.

“This one is different. He's honest, and-and he's sweet. He would never do anything to hurt me.”

“He's a guy!” Grindelwald said, making a last attempt to get it through her head.

“Besides, you can't beat him. He has no weaknesses-”

Grindelwald walked into her line of view and smirked. “I think... he does, (Y/N). I truly think... he does.”

~*~*~

Theseus sat in his chair, spinning around. “After Victoria and (Y/N) make up, we can put this all behind us.”

Victoria walked sad, slowly closing the door behind her. She whispered a silencing charm on the room before trying to figure out what to say.

“Hey, Victoria! What happened? Did you do it?”

Victoria cleared her throat. “Thes, we gotta talk.”

“Oh, Victoria, I just had the greatest day of my life! I can't stop thinking about (Y/N). She's something else.”

“Theseus! I'm trying to talk to you! Will you stop spinning in that stupid chair, calm down, and listen?”

He stopped spinning in his chair before trying to look at her- his head adjusting to the sudden stop in motion. “Aw, how can I calm down when I'm feeling so up?”

“What I'm trying to say is-”

Theseus grinned. “If it wasn't for you, I never would have met her. Oh, I owe you big time.”

“Will you just knock it off for a couple of seconds?” Victoria said, a bit agitated.

“Come on, Victoria, live a little! I’ve finally found happiness during this stupid war.”

“Listen to me! (Y/N)'s-” She started, moving closer to his desk.

“A dream come true?” Theseus quipped.

Victoria rolled her eyes. “Not exactly.”

“Absolutely beautiful?” He said, dreamily.

“Aside from that!” Victoria sighed, rubbing her temples.

“The most wonderful-” Theseus began.

“She's a fraud! She’s been playing with your feelings!”

“I know you're upset about today, but that's no reason to-”

She ran her fingers through her hair. “You're missing the point.”

“The point is - I love her.” He said, standing up from his chair.

Victoria crossed her arms over her chest. “She doesn't love you, Thes. She's nothing but a two-timing,”

“Stop it!” He moved around his desk.

“No-good, lying, scheming-”

“Shut up!” He yelled, shoving Victoria towards the bookshelf.

She lost her footing and her back slammed against the bookshelf, causing some of the books to fall. She yelped as her back made contact.

Theseus’ eyes widened at his actions. He looked down at his hands, which were twitching, before looking back at her. “Victoria, I- Oh, I'm, I'm sorry.”

Victoria hissed in pain as one of her arms reached over to rub the spot of impact. “You need to control your temper, Theseus, but besides the point. You don’t want to face the truth? Fine.” She winced as she slowly shoved herself off the bookcase and walked towards the door, not caring about the books on the floor.

“Victoria, wait. W-Where are you going?” He stammered.

“I'm going home.” She replied, wincing once again.

“What? Why? You can’t go home until you’ve been checked. I can take you to the Healer-”

“You know… You came home a War Hero and became the highly respected Auror that you are…” Victoria trailed off, stopping in her tracks. He took a step towards her. She turned her head slightly, Theseus now able to see the small, sad smile on her face. “But you’re not the Theseus that left me all those years ago.”

Theseus sighed. “Victoria, you can’t keep living in the past!”

Victoria turned around- quickly regretting her actions as her muscles ached. “So was our friendship nothing? All these years, since we were eleven- nothing?!”

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing! I thought you were my friend!”

“Of course I’m your friend! You’re just not seeing that… that (Y/N) is working for the other side!” She said, flailing her arms around to make her point, no longer caring about the pain it caused.

“She wouldn’t-”

Victoria grumbled. “Here we are again. Don’t believe me? So be it… But remember this: when the truth reveals itself? Don’t come crying to me.”

“Fine! It’s not like I needed you anyway!” He said angrily, but instantly regretted his choice of words.

Victoria gasped, her hands covering her mouth.

Now he’d done it. Theseus made his way to her. “V-Victoria, I didn’t mean that- I was just-”

Victoria put up her hand to stop him mid-sentence and mid-walk. “It’s okay. Just finish signing the paperwork and you can leave.”

“Victoria-” He called out, a pathetic attempt to keep her there.

“I’ve saved your arse time and time again- since the beginning. Years ago, that was schoolboy stupidity. Now? Hell, I don’t know what this is. I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister Scamander.” She said before leaving his office.

•✦.✧.☾.✧.✦•

Months after their argument, things were back to normal- sort of. Auror duo, Howard-Scamander, had split apart. Even though it was odd not to see them on missions together, no one dared to question it or ask either person about it.

Then Victoria’s claim about (Y/N) working with Grindelwald had been proven. Theseus, Victoria, and (Y/N) gathered in Travers’ office. After a long interrogation, Travers had decided (Y/N)’s fate.

“Due to your affiliation with Gellert Grindelwald, you are therefore guilty of a treasonous-”

“You know I didn’t hurt anyone, you know that! You’ve seen me in the field! Or are you in such a high position where being deployed on missions is not in your job description?”

“You are therefore guilty of a treasonous betrayal of your fellow wizards and are sentenced to death.” Travers finished.

Two executioners step forward. They calmly, intrusively, press the tips of their wands into (Y/N)’s neck. (Y/N) was so overcome with shock and fear that she could barely speak.

“Just do it immediately. I will inform Minister Fawley myself.” Travers said to the executioners.

Victoria opened her mouth to speak, but no words could come out. 

“Travers, she doesn’t deserve this!” Theseus yelled.

Travers placed a finger to his lips. “That’s enough. Miss Howard, please escort Mister Scamander out of here.”

~*~*~

A long, black, metallic corridor led into a pure white cell, which consisted of a chair suspended magically over a square pool of rippling potion. (Y/N) was forced into this room by the executioners. A guard stood at the door.

“Don’t do this. Nicole, please-” (Y/N) pleaded.

“It won’t hurt.” Nicole cooed softly.

(Y/N) was led to the edge of the pool. She began panicking, her breathing heavy and erratic.

The other executioner raised their wand and carefully extracted (Y/N)’s happy memories from her head. (Y/N) instantly calmed down, her expression now vacant. The executioner cast the memories into the potion, which rippled, coming alive with scenes from (Y/N)’s life.

A young (Y/N) smiled up as her mother called, “(Y/N)... (Y/N)... Come on, dearie, time for bed. Are you ready? You’re headed off to Hogwarts tomorrow.”

“I’m ready, mum…”

(Y/N) watched, smiling down at the scene.

“Doesn’t that look good? You wanna go to the chair?” Nicole asked calmly. (Y/N) nodded vacantly as she was guided onto the chair.

She now sat in the execution chair. She gazed down and beneath her swirled happy images of her at Hogwarts.

“(Y/N) (L/N)!”

(Y/N) hesitantly walked to the stool and sat down. She felt the hat being placed on top of her head.

“Difficult! Very difficult… Decisions, decisions…"

A small moment passed before the hat roared, “RAVENCLAW!”

(Y/N), still gazing into the pool, smiled wistfully. A small bubble started to form around the chair,

“(Y/N)!” Theseus’ voice echoed throughout the room.

A spell fired, hitting Nicole, who dropped to the floor, her wand falling into the pool. As it fell, the liquid rose up in viscous black bubbles, instantly engulfing the wand. In reaction, (Y/N)’s memories turned from good to bad: The memory of Grindelwald’s plan to use (Y/N) was displayed.

“See, he's gotta have a weakness, because everybody's got a weakness I mean for what? Pandora, it was the box thing, for the Trojans, hey, they bet on the wrong horse, okay? We simply need to find out Pretty Boy's.” Grindelwald said, walking around the room.

(Y/N) sat on the cushion of the bay view window. “I've done my part. Get your other imps-”

“They couldn't handle him as a soldier. I need someone who can... handle him as a man.”

“Hey, I've sworn off manhandling.” She replied.

“Well, you know, that's good because that's what got you into the jam in the first place, isn't it? You swore your allegiance to me to save your boyfriend's life. And how does that jerk thank you? By running off with some babe. He hurt you real bad, didn't he, (Y/N)? Huh?” He taunted.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Look, I learned my lesson, okay?”

Grindelwald circled around the room before stopping at her side. “Which is exactly why I got a feeling you're gonna leap at my new offer. You give me the key to bringing down that War Hero and I give you the thing that you crave most in the entire Wizarding World,” He stopped next to her and bent down. “Your freedom.” He whispered in her ear.

(Y/N), still enraptured by the pool, looked increasingly terrified. Her stool lowered closer and closer to the liquid.

Theseus managed to disarm and bind up Nicole, the other executioner, and the guard. He was about to save (Y/N) until

“Expelliarmus!” A voice shouted from the door.

Theseus’ wand was knocked from his hand. He turned around to Victoria standing at the door, catching her breath. She muttered the summoning charm before his wand was summoned to her hand.

Victoria quickly got hold of his wand before Theseus could reach it.

Theseus looked at her. “Victoria, I know we’re not on speaking terms, but please… My wand…”

She stared at him. A year ago, she’d give in, but not now. “No, I can’t let you save her Mister Scamander.”

“If you can’t beat them… then join them, right?” He let out a sad laugh. “If this is the last thing I tell you, I want you to know that even after this, you’re still my best friend. And you’re one hell of an Auror.” He said before making his way toward the edge of the pool.

Victoria gasped. “Damn it, Theseus!” She walked into the room and pointed her wand at him, “Incarcerous!”

Theseus was then bound by thick cords that came out of thin air, causing him to fall on his side. He hissed at the pain, but Victoria paid no mind. At least her friend was safe.

Victoria pointed her wand at the executioners and guard, unbinding them from their restraints. “Now get out of here.” The three of them nodded before shuffling out of the room.

Theseus looked at the memory pool, watching the last of (Y/N) memories. Victoria looked up at (Y/N), seeing the tears running down her cheeks. She almost felt pity for her- almost.

“Victoria, please…” Theseus pleaded for probably the last time.

Victoria then looked at the memory pool. It changed to the day where she and Theseus played hooky. She could see how happy they were together.

(Y/N) let out a sad laugh, causing Victoria and Theseus to look up at her. “I love you, Theseus… Sorry I didn’t tell you that day…” (Y/N) cried before the potion fully consumed her.

Theseus choked a sob as he held onto Victoria, hugging her torso, hiding his face in her shoulder. Victoria felt the tears building up before reality caught up to her. She gasped softly, tears running down her face.

Victoria was responsible for the execution of a fellow Auror. She was worried about her standings with Theseus, but that didn’t matter at the moment.

At that moment, she needed to comfort and be there for her friend. For her friend was mourning the loss of the one he loved the most.

[deans-baby-momma]

Past Haunts- A Revisit

A/N: Let’s take a look inside the Winchester/Quentin household and see how everyone is getting along. Also look for the 2nd author’s note after this story. 

It's been six months today. Six months since my daughter and I were getting ready for work and school when a simple knock on the front door changed everything. Changed it all, for the better.

To be able to watch from the sidelines as Whitney got to finally know the man who was her father; to finally experience having a male figure in her life was indescribable. 

Those two were like two peas in a pod, though. Similar likes, the same dislikes, an identical warped sense of humor. Once Dean had gotten over- no, that isn't the right wording-since Dean had come to terms with Sam being locked in a cage in Hell, he had jumped right into being a parent, a daddy. And he was killing it!

I hadn't expected to find him in the kitchen every morning, cooking breakfast for us before sending us both off with a kiss and I definitely never dreamed of coming home to a clean house, mowed lawn and that pesky back porch light repaired but during the first whole week of loving with us,  Dean had picked up the slack. I was amazed and very grateful.

Dean and I have slept in the same bed every night since his return but have yet to put a label on what we are. Although, Whitney happily tells anyone and everyone that her parents are together, I'm just unsure. And yes, we've had sex but then again what woman in her right mind could look at him, cuddle up to him and NOT want to have sex with him?

He had gotten a job at a local garage after the first month of being 'home' and had quickly impressed the boss with his knowledge of older vehicles. It seemed as though the mechanics nowadays depended on the little computers installed in the newer models to alert them to whatever was wrong, so when older vehicles came across their rack, these young boys were stumped.

During the week after Thanksgiving, the city of Fairfax Indiana got its first snowfall. Everything looked so clean and fresh with the white blanket covering all the blemishes and eyesores around town. And that's the day we found out Dean Winchester doesn't like the cold.

"It's just-" Dean grumbled as he drank his coffee at the head of the table. "-so ridiculous. You have to wear extra layers, watch out for other idiots on the road. Watch where you step. And it's just so cold." He finishes his groaning with a full body shiver.

"Dad you sound like a whiny brat," Whitney banters as she eats her eggs and bacon. "It's wonderful! Everything looks so bright and shiny."

"I need sun and warmth, missy," Dean shoots back with a wink. He suddenly sits up straight and looks at me. "Babe, how many days of school until our little girl is on holiday?"

Whitney hmphs at being called a little girl, even though she knows Dean only does it to get a rise out of her. The smirk on his face tells me that is exactly the response he expected.

"Uh, nine. I think."

"Eight and a half," Whitney corrects me, standing up to take her plate to the sink. "And the half day is going to be mostly watching movies and not much else."

I look at Dean to see his mind whirling. I could tell he was trying to work something out in his head. I raise an eyebrow in question but only get a smile in response. I shake my head at his antics and stand up to go finish getting ready for work.

Christmas in Florida is distinctly opposite of Christmas in the North. For one, there is no snow for the lights to mirror. The lights are pretty but seem so dull without the reflection. And instead of coats and gloves and hats, people are in swimsuits and shorts, tank tops and flip-flops. A total 180 from what I'm used to in mid-December. I ponder the difference between the two as I lounge on the long beach chair beside Dean's as we watch Whitney frolic in the cool water.

Dean hasn't fully embraced the warmer temperatures as he is still in jeans and his usually two-shirt ensemble.  The only thing missing is the heavy work boots he usually dons; his feet are bare. The sunglasses on his face does little to hide the freckles that have made an appearance the darker his skin tans. I've laid in bed recently, counting the cute little misshapen dots. He is all smiles and happy. I love him so much!

When Dean had first suggested taking a trip down south for Christmas break I was astonished, Whitney was ecstatic. In her 13 year existence, this is the first full-fledged vacation we have ever taken so she was excited and enthusiastic about the chance to take a trip. And when she found out the destination, I didn't think she would survive the 17-hour trip without spending the whole time exploding with glee. Whitney and I spent my whole payday on a new wardrobe for the both of us, getting weird and bizarre looks from other shoppers as we tried to find t-shirts and shorts, bathing suits and sunscreen; during December in Indiana those items were few and far between. I also took a secret trip to the courthouse, getting the paperwork to officially make Whitney a Winchester. All it needs is information and signatures from both parents. I plan to surprise Dean with them Christmas morning.

So far, this vacation has been fantastic. We have spent time as a family doing little things, like walking along the beach at sunset searching for seashells, playing mini-golf, spending the day in our hotel room watching old movies and cartoons when the weather took a turn for the worse. It has been a dream come true, something I had never in a million years thought would ever happen. 

Spending time with him and our daughter in what I dubbed as the most magical place on Earth. So what if we're not at Disney World, to me this is the most fascinating time and place; a week spent with my daughter and her father, the love of my life. Life couldn't get any better than this.

I am shaken from my daydreams as I hear Dean growl and begin throwing fictitious daggers with his eyes in the direction of the pool. I turn my head to see a group of teenage boys all surrounding Whitney, who is all smiles at the attention. 

"Calm down honey," I cajole. "We knew this would eventually happen. We can't expect her to be a nun."

"Those boys are too old for her," he defends. "They see an innocent, young girl like her and there's only one thing on their mind." He goes to get up and I reach over to place my hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Give it a minute," I tell him. "I've taught Whitney to take care of herself."

As Dean and I sit there I keep our daughter in my peripheral, just in case one of us needs to step in. Suddenly, Whitney yells out "Jerk!" and slaps the boy who looks to be the protagonist of the crew. I smile as I watch her climb out of the pool and walk toward us. She sits at my feet and wraps her towel around her shoulders.

"You okay darlin'?" her dad asks, his eyes still trained on the gang of boys. They just don't know how many different ways Dean Winchester could murder them and make them all disappear.

"Y-yea," she answers but I can tell she's lying. "They just said some things that weren't nice."

Dean finally turned his eyes toward his daughter, the dangerous glint replaced by concern.  "Baby girl, I can go have a talk with them, if you-"

"No Dean!" she says, standing up. "I don't need my father taking up for me. I'm not a baby!" As Whitney storms out of the pool area, Dean looks at me, at a loss.

"What did I do?"

I stand up and wrap the sarong around my bikini-clad body. "Just let me go talk to her, okay?" I have an idea what is going on and I know having her dad there I'd never get Whitney to open up. I lean down and kiss him and head in the direction our daughter had stomped off.

In the room, Whitney has thrown herself across her bed and is crying into the pillow.

"Honey, what's wrong?" I ask gently because if my suspicions were true, anything could cause her to fly off the handle.

"I don't know," she whines. "I was feeling okay and then all of a sudden, it's like my energy zapped. So I was just floating in the pool, hoping the ache would go away and then those boys came up and started talking to me. And I liked it," she explains as she sits up on the bed. "But then Kyle said something about me being pure and innocent when I told them how old I was and I just lost it. And then I jumped down Dad's throat and he probably hates me now!" She begins crying again and I join her on the bed, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and she places her head on my shoulder.

 "Oh baby," I console. "I think it's becoming that time. You're getting ready to start your first period."

She jerks her head up and looks at me. "Really?"

"Yea, we need to go get you some pads and Midol. You're going to start bleeding anytime."

"God, did I just ruin our first vacation?"

"No!" I claim. "You didn't ruin vacation at all, baby. Now, let's get cleaned up and run down the street to the store."

"Moooom! I can't leave the room! What if it starts before we get back?" I chuckle at her wide-eyed expression.

"Okay, okay." I reach over and grab my phone texting Dean to come up to the room. I roll my eyes as I remember the discussion he and I had almost 2 years ago. Never in a million years did I think I would actually be asking this of him but I can't leave my baby.

The look on his face was comical as I whispered my request. He looked terrified and afflicted at the thought of having to buy feminine products. I take screenshots of exactly what he needs to buy and send him on his way, but not before he insists that I remember promising him he would never have to do this particular task.

The rest of the vacation goes off without a hitch. Whitney does begin her first period and requests to spend the rest of our time in Florida in the hotel room, only going out to eat. Dean and I trust her enough to leave her in the room while we go out, exploring not only the beach but the little town we are in. 

Christmas morning comes and Whitney wakes us up with squeals of delight at the massive amount of presents placed under the decorated fake palm tree in our room.

Dean and I sit on the sofa, drinking coffee and enjoying the look of awe on our daughter's face as she opens her presents. Once finished, she winks at her dad and goes to her bag where she pulls a box from inside. Handing it to him, Whitney steps back as Dean slides off to the floor, getting on one knee.

My hand slaps over my mouth as he clears his throat. I have no idea what he says because my inner voice is chanting 'Oh my god! This can't be happening!' Finally my ears take over and I hear him ask, "Becks, will you marry me?" I nod through the tears and watch as he slips the ring onto my finger. He climbs back onto the couch and wraps his arms around me, only moving one around Whitney when she dog-piles on top of us in excitement.

None of us know though, that when we return to Indiana  the past is going to come back to haunt us, in the form of Sam Winchester back from Hell.

A/N2: Another announcement! Another story! Remember how I promised a sequel to this story? A look into the years these two spent apart? Well I began it and then life happened (along with a stroke) so I just now am finishing it up. Look for Wounded Hearts to begin in March!!! I’m excited to share it with you. I will keep those of you that were on the PH taglist unless you tell me different. Love to you all. 

@vickiq9761 @81mysteriouslyme @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @hoboal87 @squirrelnotsam @spnbaby-67 @sandlee44 @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78 @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @larajadeschmidt13 @tftumblin @blacktithe7 @lilulo-12 @adoptdontshoppets @cpag7 @markofdean79 @supraveng @deanwanddamons @mogaruke @death-unbecomes-you @vicariouslythruspn @atc74 @delightfullykrispypeach​ @sea040561​

[allsassnoclass]

how about “i know we hate each other but it’s christmas eve and your flight was cancelled please come inside” for muke? xx

Here you are my darling I hope you enjoy it!

Ficmas Day 6

Rating: teen and up

Read on AO3

Michael is woken up at ten in the morning by Mariah Carey passionately singing about what she wants for Christmas, accompanied by a voice that Michael has become unfortunately accustomed to within the past four months.  He groans and flops over, pulling his pillow over his head and hoping for the thousandth time that his neighbor might suddenly lose his voice, or at least lose the ability to blast music when Michael is still trying to sleep.  He’s coming off of the night shift and it’s Christmas Eve.  He should be allowed to actually sleep.

The pillow doesn’t help, so he slaps his hand against the wall as loudly as he can.  That doesn’t seem to help either, and Luke keeps hitting high notes that would be really impressive if Michael wasn’t currently plotting his murder.

Plotting Luke Hemming’s murder is something that Michael does frequently.  He’s never immediately disliked someone so quickly, but Luke is not only a professional at waking him up during what little sleep Michael is trying to get, but he has managed to set off the fire alarm with his cooking failures three times already, he sometimes keeps a bike in the hall that Michael almost always manages to run into no matter where it is, and when he watches TV it’s always bad reality programs at top volume.  His mail continuously somehow ends up in Michael’s slot, and he never says “thank you” when Michael gives it to him.  He has an endless trail of people tramping in and out of his apartment at all hours, but Calum said he got passive-aggressive about buzzing him up when Michael was still in the shower, despite them having met in the lobby multiple times and Luke knowing that Calum is Michael’s emergency contact.

When Michael ran into him during his move-in and said hi, Luke’s dog had growled at him.

Dogs love Michael.

Despite his cherubic blonde curls and dreamy blue eyes, Luke Hemmings might be the devil.  This was only confirmed when he started playing Christmas music and decorating his door the day after Halloween.

Michal isn’t a grinch.  He likes Christmas as much as the next person who grew up celebrating it, but he likes when it’s confined to the proper month.  There’s something to be said about the feel-good movies and lights twinkling against the snow at night, but he works overnights at a 24 hour grocery store, and at this point Christmas music makes him want to claw his ears off.  Luke doesn’t seem to listen to anything else, and he has a wreath and line of jingle bells on his door.  Michael doesn’t even want to see what the inside of his apartment looks like.

His one solace is that today Luke is catching a plane to go back to his parents’ house.  Their bedrooms share a wall, and Michael has heard him making plans to load up Petunia and spend Christmas at his childhood home.  Michael is not so lucky, confined to his apartment for the holiday.

He’s not sure what his plans are yet.  He’s trying not to be too sad about it, but it’s difficult when everyone under the sun is getting to spend it with family and he’s going in for a night shift.

The song on the other side of the wall switches to “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”  Michael tries to block out Luke’s self-dueting and viciously stamps down the jealousy bubbling in his gut.

-/-

Luke finally leaves the apartment at 2 pm.  Michael hears him cooing to his dog and the jangle of keys as he locks up, and then the apartment is blessedly silent.  He lays in bed for an hour scrolling through his phone, but eventually seeing everyone’s messages about the holiday and seeing their families becomes too much and he gets up, making his way to the shower.  The apartment is colder than usual, and when he looks out the window he only sees a mass of white, swirling too fast to make out individual flakes.  Chicago seems to be living up to its nickname.  Maybe it’s a good thing that he doesn’t have to drive far to get to work tomorrow.  He bundles up in his coziest sweatshirt and sweatpants and his favorite pair of fuzzy socks, anyway.

Michael is getting something to eat when he hears Luke’s voice again, still talking to his dog.  It’s clearly coming from the hallway, and Michael frowns when something thumps, followed by Luke apologizing.  He leaves the plate with his half eaten toast on the counter and presses his ear to the door, trying to make the words take distinct shape.

“... know, girl, but we’re almost back,” Luke says.  “Then we’ll… I don’t know.  We’ll figure something else out, right?  Fuck, where are my fucking keys?”  Something else hits the floor.  Luke sniffs.

“Fuck,” he says, but it’s small and fragile.  Michael hasn’t heard Luke sound defeated before now, and he doesn’t think he ever wants to hear it again.  To know that someone who typically is annoyingly joyful is unable to keep up that demeanor outside the privacy of his own home makes Michael’s heart break a little.

Maybe that’s why he opens the door.  Michael doesn’t know; if he was asked, he’d have to say that he was reaching for the doorknob before his mind caught up with his limbs.

Luke scrambles at the sound, wiping at his eyes.  He’s crouched on the floor, mittens in his hand, a large duffle on the floor next to him and a backpack open in front.  Petunia’s dog crate is blocking part of the hallway.

“Luke,” Michael says.  He doesn't have anything else to say; he didn’t think this far ahead.

“I’ll be quieter,” Luke sniffs.  “Sorry.  Don’t want to ruin your perfect day.”

“That’s not why I’m out here,” Michael frowns.  “It’s just a normal day for me.  Did your flight get cancelled?”

“What do you think?” Luke snaps.  “It’s a blizzard out there.  All flights are grounded until at least tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Michael says.  Luke’s face twists up, and he looks down and takes a breath.  He paws through something in his backpack, but it’s packed in pretty tight and he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, hands falling uselessly after a moment.

“I can’t find my keys,” he says, voice small again.

“Oh.  Do you… you can come and look for them in my apartment, if you want.  Just so you’re not spilling all your stuff in the hallway, you know?”

Luke frowns.

“I guess I could make hot chocolate, too?” Michael offers.  “I mean, it must be pretty cold out there, with the snow and wind and everything.”

“You hate me,” Luke says flatly.

“I know.  Well, I don’t--” he sighs.  Even when he’s trying to do something nice for him, talking to Luke is infuriating.  “Look.  I know that we don’t like each other, but it’s Christmas Eve and your flight was just cancelled.  Do you want hot chocolate or not?”

Luke looks at his backpack, then at the dog crate.

“Can I let Petunia out?”

“Sure, as long as she doesn't growl at me.”

Luke considers for another moment, long enough that Michael has to tamp down the urge to fidget with his sleeves.

“Okay,” he says.  Then, after a delay, “Thanks.”

Michael nods once, then retreats back into his apartment and holds the door open.

Luke gathers up his backpack and drags the dog crate behind him, immediately crouching to undo the clasp once Michael closes the door.

Petunia woofs in the crate while he fumbles with the latch, launching forward and nearly tackling Luke once he finally gets it open.  He hugs her to him, burying his face in her back, and Michael makes himself look away, reaching for the mugs instead and checking to ensure there's water in the kettle before putting it on the stove.

If Luke wants his cocoa made with milk, he can suck it.  Michael hopes he isn't expecting whipped cream, either.

"Can Petunia be on your furniture?" Luke asks, still hugging the wriggling beast.  She's a solid dog.  Michael isn't sure how Luke got her crate down the stairs.

"Sure," he says.  Luke gets her go and she wanders around the apartment sniffing every corner.  Michael hopes he didn't leave any snacks lying around.  He breaks eye contact with the kettle to peer around the corner and ensure that his bedroom door is closed, too.

"So," he says as he gets out two packets of cocoa mix, ripping them open and pouring them into the mugs.  "Where... um, where does your family live?"

He glances at Luke, standing in the middle of the room and looking around with a slight frown on his face.

He could try to seem less judgmental.  Michael's trying to help him out here.

"They're in California," Luke says.  "The northern part."

"Oh.  That'd be a long flight."

"Yeah," Luke says.  He doesn't say anything else and Michael has just about run out of his small talk, so he turns back to the kettle and wills it to heat up faster.  Petunia's dog collar jingles and Michael looks back long enough to see her hop up on the couch next to where Luke has finally sat down.

"You don't have any Christmas decorations up," Luke says.

"Oh," Michael replies.  "No, I guess not."

"Do you not celebrate?  Sorry, I don’t know your religion or anything."

"Not really," he says.  "I mean, I kind of do, but I'm an atheist, and since I can't go home doing Christmas by myself felt depressing.  Calum and I already exchanged gifts."

"Oh," Luke says.  "Where does your family live?"

"St. Louis.  I have a shift tomorrow night, so it didn't seem worth the drive."

"Sorry," Luke frowns.

"S'okay.  Better than trying to go home and having the flight be cancelled."

Luke purses his lips.  Michael hopes he doesn’t start crying.  Thankfully the kettle chooses that moment to squeal, giving Michael something to do besides stare dumbly at Luke.  For someone who spent what was probably a very frustrating and frazzling amount of time at the airport, his hair looks infuriatingly good right now.

"Do you want marshmallows?" he asks.  "They're a little stale."

"Sure," Luke says.  "Thanks."

Michael gets the marshmallows from his cupboard and plops a few into each of their drinks.  He gives Luke the mug his parents got him with his college logo, keeping the Marvel one that Calum bought for himself.  Luke takes the mug with both hands, their fingers touching, and Michael tries not to snatch his hand back.  Petunia leans forward to sniff, making Michael give her a wide berth on the way to his wicker armchair.

"Are you scared of my dog?" Luke asks.  "Look, I know she has some pit bull in her, but that doesn't mean she's a monster.  She's really sweet."

"She growled at me when we met."

"When was that?"

Typical.  Michael isn't even a big enough blip on Luke's radar for him to remember that they met when he moved in.  Sure, Luke probably met a lot of people that day, but Michael lives right next door, and they've obviously seen each other a lot since then.

"When you moved in.  I was leaving for a shift, you were moving boxes around, and she came out and growled at me."

"Huh."  Luke looks at her.  Petunia looks right back, completely unbothered.  "She's really not typically like that.  The stress of the move made her moody.  If you let her sniff you now, she'll let you pet her.  Come on."

He sets down his cocoa and gestures Michael forward.

"Dude, it's not a big deal."

"It is," Luke says.  He looks sincerely distressed.  Michael immediately wants to correct that, like Luke has some sort of weird superpower that makes everyone around him want to keep him happy.  "I want you to like my dog.  She wants to like you, too."

"Fine," Michael says, rolling his eyes.  "I'll meet your stupid dog."

Luke beams.  He has dimples.  Somehow, this is the worst thing that has happened to Michael today.  His insides feel funny, like he swallowed pop rocks.

"Be nice, Piggy," Luke says to the dog.  Michael cautiously holds out his hand, letting Petunia snuffle at it.  Soon enough she must decide that he isn't worth the trouble because she puts her head back down and lets Michael run a hand over her back.

"She really likes it when you scratch behind her ears."

He tries that out, watching the way her ears flick forward and back and how she keeps moving her eyes from him to Luke.  She sighs and smacks her lips twice, kicking out her back leg and stretching further on the couch.

"See?" Luke says.  "She likes you."

Michael smiles, sitting gingerly on the edge of the couch so he can continue to pet her.

"I miss dogs," he says.  "I keep wanting to get one, but I work too much right now."

"What is it you do?" Luke asks.  He drinks some of his hot chocolate, pulling a face but going back in for another sip.  MIchael’s not sure if that means his cocoa sucks or is acceptable.

"I work nights at a grocery store, but I babysit for some of the families here, too."

"Really?' Luke asks.

"Don't sound so surprised," Michael snorts.

"Sorry," Luke says.  "You just don't strike me as a kid person."

Michael shrugs.  Luke has a point.  Michael was an only child and he gets tired and grumpy easily.  Still, hanging out with his kids usually isn’t that bad.

"It pays well.  They're little demons, but at this point all of them like me, so it's not too bad.  The hardest thing is pretending to be bad at their video games so they don't get upset because I'm beating them."

“I guess,” Luke says.  “I’m a hairstylist, and our salon is pretty high-end.  We don’t get a lot of kids, thank goodness.  I’d be scared that they’d move and I’d cut off the wrong chunk of hair.”

Huh.  That must be why his hair always looks so good.

“You think my hair looks good?” Luke asks.

Shit.  Michael is too used to being alone in the apartment and allowed to speak all of his thoughts to the air.

He shrugs.

Luke makes a pleased noise and drinks more of his cocoa.  His cheeks look a little red, possibly a side effect of him still wearing his coat even though he’s inside with a warm drink.

Michael goes back to his chair and picks up his own cocoa.  Luke takes a few more sips, but it seems like he has used up most of his small talk, too, although he tries as he goes through his backpack, commenting on the book he tucked in there but probably wouldn’t have read and occasionally cooing at Petunia.  Michael is grateful when he finishes his own drink and can take it to the sink to rinse it, spying his half-eaten toast and taking a bite along the way.

Luke finds his keys quickly, zipped into an outside pocket.

“Thanks for the cocoa, and letting me let Petunia out,” Luke says, standing in the middle of the room again, backpack on and keys in hand.

“Yeah, sure,” Michael replies.  “Hope you have a good Christmas.”

“You too,” Luke says.  Michael looks at everything in the room other than him.  Luke grabs his things, calls to Petunia, and leaves for the apartment next door.

-/-

There’s a knock on Michael’s door a few hours later.  It’s still snowing pretty heavily outside, white flakes standing out against a black sky whenever they pass by a light, so it must be someone in the building.  Michael hopes it’s not someone needing a last-minute babysitter.  He’s still tired and trying to savor his one night off, even if he doesn’t have any plans beyond video games and movies.  He’s going to have to resist shouting at the tv into the early morning now that Luke is home again, but he was still looking forward to it.

Luke is standing outside his door.

“Hi,” Michael says slowly.

“Hey,” Luke says.  “Do you want to have dinner?”

“What?” Michael asks, sure that he heard something wrong or is misunderstanding something.

“I dunno.  You’re here, I’m here, neither of us are doing anything.  I don’t really want to eat alone on Christmas Eve.”

Oh.  Michael hopes for once his pale complexion isn’t betraying him, but he can feel his ears burn.  Luke is not asking him on a date; he’s just bored and lonely.  Luke also has automatically assumed that Michael doesn’t have a life and isn’t doing anything which--while true--is a little offensive.

“Okay,” he shrugs.  “What do you want to eat?”

“Well…” Luke looks down at his feet, ever so slightly pigeon-toed.  He has really nice legs, even when they’re covered in baggy sweatpants instead of the usual skin-tight pants Michael typically spies him in.  “I wasn’t planning on being here for a bit, so I have some pasta but no sauce, or I have pancake mix.  We might be able to walk to the Chinese place at the corner, but I don’t know if they’re open with the blizzard.”

“Pancakes sound good,” Michael says.  “I have some eggs, if you want those.”

“Thanks,” Luke says.  “I have some bread for toast and jam and butter.  That’s a full meal.  Want to come to mine?”

“Sure,” Michael says.  “I’ll get the eggs.”

Michael lets his door swing closed.  He toes on his shoes and grabs his phone, then almost forgets the eggs anyway and has to double back to the kitchen.

He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to walk right in to Luke’s apartment or knock out of politeness.  After a moment of deliberation he chooses the latter, navigating around the wreath to rap his knuckles against the wood, which sends Petunia barking and therefore might have been the wrong choice.  Luke doesn’t seem bothered when he opens the door, though.  He just smiles and steps aside, then tells Petunia to stop.  Petunia actually greets Michael at the door, too, snuffling at his feet before trotting after Luke to the kitchen area.

"Woah," he says involuntarily once he gets a clear look at the apartment.  There's a fake tree in the corner, which he expected, but what takes him aback is the tinsel hanging from the ceiling in green and red, the small Santas and snowmen standing proud on available surfaces like the TV stand, side table, and counter, and the numerous other fake evergreen springs scattered around.  There are Christmas pillows on the couch.  There's a wooden reindeer on the wall.

Michael knew that Luke loved Christmas given the numerous carol-sessions and decorations seen from outside the apartment, but somehow he still hadn't considered that the inside would look like this.

"I got started already," Luke calls from the kitchen.  Michael breaks himself out of his decoration shock and follows him into the small area, looking in the mixing bowl Luke gestures to.  The batter inside doesn't appear to be mixed very well, just milk sitting around a mound of powder.  "I don't know when you usually eat, since you work so late, but I hope you don't mind.  If you hate it you don't have to eat it or whatever; I'm not the best cook and I know that you're just humoring me."

Luke puts his hands on the counter and sighs.

"Sorry.  I'm rambling."

"It's okay," Michael says.  "I prefer rambling to awkward silence."

"I'm great at awkwardness," Luke says.  "I excel at being awkward.  If it's possible to make a situation more awkward, I can do it."

"Yeah, I'm getting that," Michael says, eyeing him.  This Luke is different than the Luke Michael so often sees in the hallway.  He's softened by the grey tracksuit he's wearing, hair now pulled half-up, slight embarrassment staining his movements.  This Luke is approachable and comfortable.  Michael thinks he can find his footing here.  The Luke that he interacted with before today is intimidating in his heeled ankle boots and silk shirts.  This one seems like... well, a little like a dork.

Michael reaches for the pancake mix box while Luke takes a fork and starts stirring.

"Hey, did you put an egg in?"

Luke freezes.

"This needs eggs?"

Huh.  This Luke is a dork who is hopeless in the kitchen.

"You weren't underestimating your cooking skills earlier," he says.  "Have you made pancakes before?"

"It was a while ago, okay?" Luke defends.  "I eat out a lot."

"Every self-respecting person should be able to make pancakes," Michael says.  He takes one of the eggs and cracks it over the bowl, Luke pausing in his mixing to give him room.  Thankfully, Luke seems to have a griddle plugged in and warming up.  Michael thinks it probably was a housewarming present that doesn't get much use.

"What kind of eggs do you want?" Michael asks.

"Uh, scrambled."

"How many?"

"You choose."

Michael has never cooked with Luke.  Michael has never seen Luke eat and therefore doesn't know his appetite.  Michael has no clue what to do with that answer.

"Can I have a pan?" he asks.

"Sure," Luke says distractedly, forcefully stabbing at the egg in his mixing bowl to break the yoke.  "They're right over there."

He kicks his leg out towards one of the lower cabinets, right behind where Petunia has taken up residence.

"Hey Petunia, want to move?" he asks her, crouching and slowly opening the drawer.  She stares at him.  He scratches behind her ears and continues to pull the drawer out as far as he can, but it's not far enough.  Eventually she must find the drawer pushing into her back more inconvenient than shifting her position, because she heaves herself up and leaves to sit by her food dish in the corner instead.

"Is this mixed enough?" Luke asks.  He tilts the bowl and Michael cranes his neck to see.  The fact that Luke is asking him at all is weird, because Michael himself isn't exactly in the running for a Michelin star, but there's something to be said about the easy way Luke has admitted his weakness here and turned to Michael for help.  Michael himself would probably just keep messing stuff up rather than admit he needed guidance.

"Um, it's a little lumpy still."

Luke sighs and begins mixing again.  Michael finds a suitable pan and begins cracking eggs.

True to his promises, Luke keeps rambling all throughout the dinner-making process.  He talks about his favorite foods and his friends and asks Michael if they can add chocolate chips to half the pancakes, as if Luke is the guest here instead of Michael.  When he remembers to catch his breath, he asks Michael about himself, seeking the information he had already ended up word-vomiting.  It's a lot more endearing than Michael thought it would be.  For how annoying he finds Luke, there's something endlessly charming about hearing him nervously spout facts about himself. ��It's even more charming when he doesn't reprimand Michael for eating some chocolate chips straight out of the bag.

He manages to get batter on his nose halfway through the cooking process.  When Michael points it out, Luke's cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and Michael makes himself turn to start the toast.

The pancakes land themselves on a plate and Luke gets out another two for them to use.  Michael splits the eggs between them and Luke hands out the toast, then they take two of the stools at the counter to eat.

They're not exactly the best pancakes he's ever eaten, but they're not bad at all.  They're made even better by the fact that Michael isn't eating them alone.

Being on a different schedule than everyone else and living alone means that the vast majority of his meals are spent by himself, typically with the tv on just to give a bit of noise.  While Luke turns on the radio softly, Michael barely registers it, too busy listening to Luke's stories of the salon and countering with tales from the night shift at the grocery.  It's deceptively easy to keep conversation flowing between them.

Before Michael has taken his first bite of pancake, he's already decided that hating Luke was a stupid decision.

Of course, Luke is just lonely on Christmas Eve.  While he's smiling and laughing hard enough at things Michael says to sometimes duck forward, close enough to rest his head on Michael's shoulder if he wanted, there's no guarantee that something like this will ever happen with them again.

Michael chews his last few bites slowly.

“Hey,” Luke says as he’s putting the plates in the sink, where the mixing bowl and pan are already taking up residence, “do you want to stay for a bit?  If you don’t have work or anything?  I usually watch some movies on Christmas Eve, but if you don’t want to we can do something else, like…”  He looks around his apartment, biting his lip.  Michael does not stare.  “I have some decks of cards?  We can have more hot chocolate?”

“I’d be down for a movie,” Michael says.  Luke's shoulders slump in relief.  It makes Michael feel better that Luke would be relieved over him staying.  He's astoundingly easy to read up close, emotions flickering over his face and seeping into his body language to create an open book.  It makes it easier to believe that Luke was asking out of a genuine desire to keep his company, rather than misplaced politeness or simple loneliness.

"Great!" Luke says.  "Awesome."

"What do you usually watch?" Michael asks.

"Uh, the Lord of the Rings."

That wasn't what Michael was expecting.  Honestly, he was betting on Elf.

"Like, all three?  Isn't that twelve hours?"

"We usually have them going right after lunch.  I think my parents hoped that watching would tire us out so we wouldn't wake them up early to open presents before church."

"Did it work?" Michael asks.

"Nope," Luke grins.  "Jack--one of my brothers--always ensured we were awake when the sun rose."

"If I had a brother wake me up that early, I would kill him," Michael says.

"Not me.  I wanted him to," Luke says.  "I loved running to the living room and seeing all of the presents and our stockings lined up.  I didn't want to wait a moment more than I had to."

Michael tries to picture a younger Luke Hemmings running excitedly to look under his Christmas tree, early rays of dawn streaming in through a window and fresh snow on the ground.

He doesn't know what Luke looked like back then.  It puts a damper on things, but the image is soaked in nostalgia and happiness regardless.

"If you wake me up early tomorrow it'll be the last thing you do, but we can watch Lord of the Rings," he says.  Luke grins.

"Can we make a blanket fort, too?" he asks.

"What are you, six?"

Luke's face immediately crumples.

Shit.

"No, not like that!  It's not a bad thing!" he backpedals.  "Like, I'm just teasing.  I do it with all of my friends.  If Calum had asked I'd have said the same thing even though I want to."

Luke eyes him critically.

"We're friends now?"

Michael rubs at his chest.  He hadn't even thought before he had said that.  He shouldn't have assumed.  If Luke hadn't warmed up to him in the entirety of their four months as neighbors, why should one night make any difference?

"I guess," he says.  "Why not?  I gave you eggs."

"Yeah, a true sign of friendship," Luke says dryly.

Fuck.  He fucked this up.

"I should go," he says, starting for the door.  Luke lurches into motion, catching his arm as he passes.  It sends goosebumps erupting across his skin, freezing him in his tracks.

"Wait, don't," Luke says.  "Sorry.  We're friends.  Don't go, please.  I didn't--we're friends.  I want us to be friends."

He releases Michael's arm, and Michael feels like he can breath again.

"We're really bad at this," he says.  It makes Luke laugh, lifting at least half the heaviness in the air.  "We're friends, we're going to make a fucking blanket fort, and we're going to watch Lord of the Rings.  Right?"

"Right," Luke says.

"Good.  Let's get started on that blanket fort."

Luke's definition of a blanket fort is more of a nest.  They don't have anything tall enough to prop up a ceiling unless they take the cushions they need to use as a floor, even with Michael going back to his own apartment to bring pillows and blankets.  In the end, Luke moves his small coffee table and they simply pile as much padding and blankets as they can find in front of the couch.  Luke pops a bag of popcorn and offers beverages.  Once he gets settled Petunia flops down next to him, leaving Michael to set up the movie with Luke giving directions, since neither of them could disturb Petunia in good conscience.

Luke ends up disturbing her anyway to take her outside for the bathroom so she doesn't interrupt the movie.

Being alone in Luke's apartment with no distraction is strange, so he takes out his phone and texts Calum.

To Calpal: im in lukes apartment we had pancakes and now we are watching lord of the rings

From Calpal: ???? hot mean neighbor luke?

To Calpal: yeah his flight was cancelled

From Calpal: ????????????? I thought you hated him

To Calpal: hes kinda a dork cant cook for shit his dog likes me now hes kinda funny too we are officially friends

From Calpal: ??????????????????????

Luke’s door opens, and Michael has to scramble for the popcorn so Petunia won’t be able to get at it while Luke takes off his boots and jacket.

To Calpal: g2g tell you later

“Hey, Petunia,” Michael says when she presses against him, stretching for the popcorn he’s holding out of reach.  He runs a hand over her back, fur cold and damp.  “Is it still snowing?”

“A little,” Luke calls.  “I think it’ll stop soon.”  He gets the main light, leaving a lamp on a side table lit, then flops down on the blankets and cushions, shoulder knocking Michael’s briefly.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Luke presses play, and the opening instrumental and Galadriel’s narration fills the small apartment.

Luke is chatty during movies.  Michael would be more annoyed by it if this wasn’t clearly a movie he had seen millions of times before with a million memories to accompany.  Besides, when Michael says he’d like to be a hobbit so he could snack all the time, Luke makes another bag of popcorn for him without asking.

“Do you think--” he asks, then stops.  On screen, the Fellowship arrives at Lothlorien.

“Do I think what?” Michael prompts.

“Do you think I’ll be able to go home tomorrow?”

Michael looks at him, lounging back on the cushions with one of the blankets pulled around him.  He let his hair down, curls shadowing his face a bit more in the low light.

“Yeah, if the snow stops,” he says.  “But if not… if you’re still lonely, you can hang out with me until I go to work.”

“Really?” Luke asks.

“Yeah, why not,” Michael says.  “If you’re not sick of me, I don’t have any plans.  I was just going to play video games.”

Luke smiles at him.

“I like video games.”

“Great.  We’ll play video games.”

Michael turns back to the movie, but Luke’s hand snakes over a snoring Petunia and grabs his own.

“Thank you,” he says.  “Really.  You’ve made what would’ve been a really shit time into a surprisingly nice Christmas.”

“It’s not even Christmas yet,” Michael says, feeling his cheeks heat up.  Thankfully Luke won’t be able to see it in the low light.

“You’ll make that nice, too.”

Michael squirms under his attention.  It feels too nice, and that’s something he can’t afford to consider right now.

“Um, I think there’s an important scene coming up,” he says.  Luke squeezes his hand again, but returns his attention back to the screen.  

Michael is the one to put the second movie in, because Luke is still sniffling over the ending of the first.  Michael’s not sure if he’s allowed to tease him for it, especially when his own eyes welled up.  He cries over movies pretty easily, and there’s something to be said about the loyalty and love packed into the last piece of the story, something that Michael occasionally wonders if he’ll ever find.

He comes close with Calum, but Calum also has a roommate and boyfriend.  Michael wouldn’t mind another person to love, too.

“I think this one is my least favorite,” Luke says drowsily when Michael presses play.  “Too much Gollum.  He used to give me nightmares as a kid.”

“Really?” Michael asks.  Luke nods.

“That, and the scene in the first one where they’re making the Uruk-hai and they appear from the mud.”

“When I was young, I had lots of nightmares about showing up to school in my underwear and everyone laughing at me.  It would happen once a week.  I started ditching school because it made me too nervous.”

Luke hums.

“I wouldn’t have laughed at you.”

“It was middle school.  Everyone would’ve laughed.”

“Not now,” Luke says.  “I know you now.  I’d wait until I knew you were okay to laugh.”

“Thanks,” Michael says.  Luke nods.   He keeps sinking lower and lower into the blankets, eyelids drooping more every time Michael checks on him.  Michael himself would still be in the middle of his shift at the grocery store on a typical day, and he could keep going for hours.  The relaxed atmosphere they’ve formed might let him clock out early, though.

They watch most of this movie in silence, Luke’s commentary diminishing more and more as the movie wears on.  There are a few times where Michael thinks he’s finally fallen asleep and he should take his leave, but then Luke will shift or say something else.

“Michael?” he asks eventually, voice small and eyes closed.  He’s curled on his side facing him, giving up any pretence of continuing to watch.

“Hm?”

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“Sure,” he says.  Luke smiles and snuggles deeper into the blanket.  His breathing evens out more, slipping seamlessly into sleep.  Michael looks at the way his eyelashes brush his cheeks, savoring the unguarded expression on his face.  He’s almost ethereal like this, as fair and otherworldly as the elves on the tv but twice as captivating.

Michael puts the third movie in once it’s time.  He’s asleep within ten minutes.

-/-

Michael wakes disoriented, tangled in multiple blankets and propped on too many pillows.  There’s noise somewhere near him, someone else shuffling and the rustle of a jacket being put on, but it doesn’t feel out of place.  This person isn’t an enemy breaking in.

“Wha?” he asks, trying to turn towards the noise.

“Sorry, sorry,” Luke murmurs.  “I’m going to try to see if I can get to church.  Go back to sleep.”

Soft fingers brush his hair to the side, lingering.  He leans into the touch before it’s gone.

He rolls over and goes back to sleep.

-/-

The smell of coffee draws him fully out of sleep a while later.  Michael blinks and does his best to detangle himself, sitting up and looking around groggily until he processes Luke standing at the counter, mug in hand.  It’s a sight that Michael could get used to if he was allowed.  He’s in his typical jeans and fancy shirt, a juxtaposition to yesterday, and Michael isn’t sure what that means about the dorky guy who wanted to make a blanket fort rather than the one who always brushed by Michael in the hallway.

He clears his throat.  Luke’s answering grin is wide and familiar.

“Hi,” he says.

“Good morning,” Luke says.  “Afternoon.  Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he hums.  “Coffee?”

Luke pours another mug, offering Michael cream and sugar.  He brings it over, and this time when their fingers brush over the mug Michael doesn’t feel the need to snatch his hand away.

“How was church?” he asks.

“It was good,” Luke says.  “The plows were out overnight, so I was only a little late.”  He looks down at his mug, fingertip tracing the rim.  “I wish I had been able to go with my family.  It’s fine though.  Mum will probably have us go on Sunday.”

Michael nods.

“I, uh, got a message from the airport, too.  My flight got rescheduled.  I’m going to have to leave in about an hour.”

“Oh,” Michael says.

“Sorry.”

“What?  No, this is a good thing.  I’m glad you get to go home,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound too disappointed.  He had been looking forward to spending part of the day with Luke more than he thought, and to have that taken away from him feels like a punch to the gut.

“Guess we’re going to have to reschedule the video games,” Luke says.

“Yeah.”

“Or,” he says, “we could go on a date?”

Michael gives himself whiplash with how quickly he looks up.

“I, uh, don’t know if you even like guys,” Luke says, “but I’ve had a lot of fun with you, and I’ve always thought you were cute.”

“I thought you didn’t like me until yesterday.”

Luke shrugs.

“I can think you’re hot and be frustrated about it at the same time.”

Michael nods because yeah, that tracks.  Michael has never kidded himself about how nice Luke is to look at, even when he was cursing his name for waking him up with Christmas carols.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Yeah, you agree that you’re hot and frustrating?  Or--”

“Yeah, let’s go on a date.  Or stay in on a date.  Whatever you want.”

Luke grins.  Michael hides his smile behind his cup of coffee, but Luke can probably see it anyway.

“Want some pancakes?” Luke asks.  “We have the leftovers from yesterday.”

“If you can handle heating them up.”

Luke swats at him on the way past and Michael tries to trip him in retaliation.  It almost works, earning him a reproachful look that he responds to with a wink.  Luke ducks his head.

Michael is going to flirt with him so hard in the future.  He can’t wait to see Luke’s face turn different shades of pink.

They have to clean up the blanket fort after breakfast, and by then Luke barely has time to get Petunia ready before needing to leave.  Michael offers to drive him to the airport, but Luke says Petunia rides best in his car, and he’d rather park it at the airport so he doesn’t have to call for a ride home.

Luke walks him to his door, even though it’s only a few feet away.

“Hey,” he says.  “Thanks again for making me pancakes and watching movies with me, and for inviting me in for hot chocolate earlier.  I’m glad you did.”

“I’m glad you said yes,” Michael says.  “Let me know when you get back.”

“I will.”

“Have a good time,” Michael says.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Michael.”

Luke leans forward and kisses his cheek.  When he steps back, he’s smiling again.  Michael mirrors it and stays standing in front of his door until Luke has disappeared into his.

His apartment feels small and empty after sharing Luke’s for the night.  There’s no pillow fort spread on the floor nor dog lounging on the couch.

Of course, Luke’s apartment will be empty soon, too.  He’ll be with his family, enjoying Christmas day with them, while Michael’s own parents will be without him for the first year since he was born.

He brings out his phone and dials his home number, listening to it ring a few times before someone picks up.

“Michael?  How are you?  Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Mum,” he says.

“Oh, we miss you, darling,” she says.  “We wish you could be here.  Are you still having an alright time?”

“I actually am,” he says.  “I, uh, was celebrating with someone this morning.  Have I mentioned my neighbor Luke?”

“No, I don’t think you have.  Why don’t you tell me about him?”

Michael gets comfortable on his couch and tells his mother all about spending Christmas with Luke Hemmings.

[biaswreckingfics]

No Limits: Part 2

Author: biaswreckingfics

Genre: Mafia AU - Warnings? Everything that goes on in a Mafia AU

Word Count: 3.5k

Previous Chapter

Chanyeol stared at him as he spoke with a dull expression, and once Junmyeon finished speaking he says what they all secretly fear, “If the Baem has him, then he’s already dead.”

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

You knew it! You knew Sehun didn't die in that explosion. Brief relief swept through you at the thought of Sehun still being alive and it took all of your willpower to not bounce in your seat with happiness, but it was quickly crushed by Chanyeol's "he's already dead" attitude.

If the Baem had Sehun, then they had to act quickly before something really bad does happen. Giving up and thinking he was already dead wasn't going to help anyone, especially Sehun.

"While we're on the subject of the Baem..." Junmyeon trails off while looking at you. You knew where he was going with this by the way his eyes slightly narrowed.

Don't you fucking dare, Junmyeon, you angrily think, trying to shove the thought from your head to his.

"Now that we assume Sehun is still alive and most likely being held captive by the Baem, I don't want you to be involved in this anymore, Y/N. It's way more dangerous than we originally anticipated."

"Bullshit," You immediately counter, stealing yourself for the same argument the two of you always seem to have. "It was always dangerous. Nothing has changed. We wanted to destroy the Baem before and now we'll destroy them and get Sehun."

Junmyeon purses his lips before leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. "We don't have time for an argument. I don't want you involved. In fact, I don't even want you sitting at this table right now."

"I don't give a fuck what you want, Junmyeon. You're not the only one with a say. If the other EXO members don't want me involved, then fine, but all you're trying to do is play the big brother role that you're already a decade too late for," You snap at him.

Chanyeol snorts at your response before looking at Junmyeon and standing up from his lean against the wall. "And you tell me I need to get my shit together. How about following your own advice, leader."

As Chanyeol walks out of the room, the sad look on Junmyeon's face immediately makes you want to take back what you said, but you were so sick and tired of having this fight every couple of days that you couldn't do it.

"I'm sorry, Jun, but I'm not going to change my mind... I deserve the chance to avenge mom and dad and also get revenge for myself... and I'm not going to have this argument with you anymore."

Your brother held your stare as he thought out everything silently. He looked around the room at his men and took in their expressions before sighing.

"What do 'the other members of EXO' think?" He asks with a slight edge to his voice.

You inwardly cringe as you realize just how much your words had hurt your brother. That wasn't what you wanted. He was one of the last people you wanted to hurt, but his lack of faith in you hurt you also, so you would continue to stand your ground.

"When Jisoo and Minhyuk died, the Elders took away my right to avenge their deaths, and I still hate them for that to this day..." Baekhyun slowly starts as he stares at the table in front of him. The faded pain still clear in his voice until he shakes it off and looks up at your brother. "You were there with me, Junmyeon. You saw what that did to me. Do you want to do that to your sister?"

Your brother was clearly affected by Baekhyun's words as he thought back to that time. It showed in the way he tilted his head up toward the ceiling, closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw.

"She's already come really far in her training. If she keeps it up, I don't see any reason she shouldn't be involved," Jongin adds his opinion.

Junmyeon nods a little before looking back down at the members and sliding his chair back. "I'll take your opinions into consideration. Meeting dismissed."

You silently watch as he abruptly stands up from his chair and walks out of the room, not sending a single glance your way. When the rest of the members quietly get up and leave without a passing word to each other, you feel a small piece of your heart break.

When you first came here, the group was lively and rambunctious. There was laughter and noise all throughout the day and night, and the near silence that was now a constant in the compound was deafening.

You feel a sudden poke in your arm and look over at Baekhyun, who had apparently stayed behind with you. He searches your eyes trying to figure out what you're feeling.

"What's up?" He finally asks before placing his elbow on the arm of the chair and resting his chin on his hand, waiting to hear your thoughts.

Sighing, you angle your body towards him and lean your head against the back of the seat, feeling completely comfortable with sharing your innermost thoughts with him. "I'm tired of everyone walking around on eggshells. How are they supposed to be a group when they can hardly even communicate?"

"When are you going to learn to not take on everyone else's problems?" He asks you softly.

"Probably never..."

He lets out a small laugh that causes your heart to flutter, and you stiffen. It didn't escape your notice that he was starting to affect you more and more, but you couldn't bring yourself to think about that right now. There was too much going on at the moment.

"How about, for now, you focus on kicking Jongin's ass in training? We'll worry about the rest later."

Sehun's POV

He had fallen into the soldier role well, and as it turns out, he was a quick learner.

The Baem had been giving him small tasks and testing out his abilities in all areas. They discovered he was apparently good with weapons and explosives. Like really good. Like Sehun almost scared himself good.

When the Baem discovered his talent, they kept him strictly with their weapons unit, and the more Sehun played around with things, the more small pieces of his memory came back.

He remembered how to handle wiring and how to build certain explosives, he remembered how to properly care for every gun he came across, and he was remembering other things as well... like his dislike for all the easy girls who were always around and throwing themselves at him. He remembered that he preferred classier girls who respected themselves, and for some reason when he thought of an example, you were the one that flashed into his mind.

All that did was cause him more confusion. Why were you the one that he thought of? Because he had recently seen you? It was just another thing to add to his growing list of questions, and with the memories he gained, that list was getting quite long.

Something else he thought was odd was the fact that he didn't recognize any of his members. As the other things started coming back, he thought memories about his members would come back too, but they weren't. These men still felt completely foreign to him.

On top of that, they consistently kept asking him questions about EXO, and it was really starting to fucking irritate him. How many times did he have to say he couldn't remember? He understood they were their rivals, but they never even asked him questions about the Baem, just EXO.

It almost seemed like they were testing him, but why?

Y/N's POV

It had been a few days since the meeting, and it seemed like the tension in the house had gotten even worse. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop, like whatever was holding the last of you together was going to break any day now.

It was almost like everyone was backtracking instead of trying to move on and heal, and things with your brother had not been good at all. Neither of you had attempted any communication since your last argument. Junmyeon would often lock himself in his office and would hardly come out, and you tried to hang out in your room a lot because you were just tired. Tired of all of it.

A quick knock sounded on your door before Jongin peeked in. "Time for training, let's go."

You sigh at the thought of another day of having your ass handed to you, but jump up from your bed and follow him down the hall because you knew this would be the perfect opportunity to ask him about one of the many things that had been on your mind lately.

"Okay, fine, but I want to talk on the way."

Now it was Jongin's turn to sigh because he knew exactly what you wanted to talk about. Minseok.

"I don't regret killing Minseok's father." He immediately says, causing you to slow down your steps and look over at him while he continued. "I'm glad I was the one to do it."

"I wasn't going to ask that..." You slowly say, now completely stopped in the middle of the hallway. "I just wanted to know if the two of you will be okay..."

Jongin awkwardly comes to a stop beside you. "...Oh..."

"What's on your mind, Jongin?"

He turns to face you and searches your eyes almost with a slight panic. "I think there's something wrong with me..."

Your heart jumps a little at his words and how his entire demeanor crumbled before you. The way he broke eye contact and swallowed while looking down the hallway immediately put you on edge.

You knew Jongin was holding in a lot of emotions. He didn't often like to be perceived as "weak" no matter how many times you told him emotions didn't make him weak. Instead, he liked to drown his sadness and pain in girls and alcohol, but you wanted to try to find a way to help him past that, and right now, Jongin was giving you an unusual glimpse into his vulnerability.

"Why do you say that?"

"...Because I felt happiness when I killed him. Relief... You're not supposed to feel happy when you end someone's life, and it's not the first time. I felt the same way about my stepdad."

Everything Jongin was saying made sense. In a normal world, killing people was a horrific, atrocious thing, but in the mafia world... nobody was really a "good guy". They all did horrible things, and no, you weren't trying to justify murder. You knew things weren't so black and white, but those two were bad men.

"Jongin, they were shit people who did horrible things, it's not wrong to feel relief that they're gone." You tell him, but the look of doubt is clear on his face. "I don't think anything is wrong with you... I'd be happy if I were in your position too."

He raises his eyebrows at your statement before saying, "Maybe there's something wrong with you too."

His words cause you to pause in thought until you finally shrug, "Well, then we'll be fucked up together."

He shakes his head at you, but a small smile does find its way onto his face, and that was literally all you cared about at the moment.

As the two of you start to walk down to the training room again, he asks, "Was that all you wanted to talk about?"

"Are you avoiding Minseok because of what you just told me?"

He avoids looking at you and continues quietly walking down the hallway for a moment before answering. "Partly... I thought it'd be good to give him space. I took away his last living parent... How can you forgive someone for that?"

You couldn't respond to his question, because you didn't know the answer yourself. Would you be able to forgive Jongin if you were in Minseok's position? It was hard to put yourself in those shoes because you knew, one way or another, Minseok's father was never going to leave that room. Whether it be by Jongin's hand, your brother's, or your own.

All you knew was that it was something the two of them would have to work out themselves, and you were worried about what would happen if they let this go on for too long. "You need to talk to him before it's too late..."

He thinks about your words for the rest of the walk but remains silent until the two of you walk into the training room, where your eyes immediately find Baekhyun waiting there. You would be lying if you said a thrill didn't go through your entire body at the sight of him.

"Are you joining us today?" Jongin asks with clear amusement.

You're silent as you watch Baekhyun walk up to the two of you with a swagger you've only ever seen him pull off. You shake your head at the thought, immediately annoyed with yourself for thinking someone's walk was sexy.

"Oh, I'll be here every day until she kicks your ass," Baekhyun replies with a smirk that you force yourself to ignore.

His words and belief in you, however, gave you the motivation you needed to train, and for the next hour, the three of you warm-up and take turns sparring with each other. You could feel yourself getting stronger, compared to how you were before the training started, and the thought made you giddy with adrenaline. You were becoming a badass person, and damn, it was exciting.

"Kai hyung," A voice calls from the entrance of the training room, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's an issue at the club."

Jongin drops his fighting stance and sighs as he looks over at the younger man who you have never seen before. "Which one?"

"The one we just acquired, sir."

Jongin swore before following the younger man out of the training room. You turn to Baekhyun in confusion.

"Who was that, and what club is he talking about?"

"Someone in Jongin's unit," He answers while slowly circling you, "They just bought a ...gentleman's club."

You turn your body with him as he watches your movements, looking for a place to attack, but your mind was already elsewhere.

"You guys own strip clubs too?"

"We dabble in a little bit of everything. Casinos, dealerships, strip clubs... Why do you sound so surprised?"

Why were you surprised? Jongin was one of the most sexual beings you knew. It made perfect sense for him to run the strip clubs.

Suddenly, you feel a jab in your left arm as Baekhyun takes a hit at you and circles around behind you. You quickly turn and catch the smirk still on his face.

He raises an eyebrow at the taken aback look on your face and asks, "You thought you were done training because your teacher left?"

Your throat suddenly dries up at the sight of him. The raised eyebrow, the smirk, his sweaty naked torso, his eyes as they looked over your body, searching for a hint of your next move. It was a sensation overload. Pair that with the previous conversation of strip clubs, and your mind almost went blank.

Focus. You needed to focus. Forget about the stupidly attractive, oddly caring guy in front of you and put your opponent on his fucking ass.

You studied his movements for a moment, the way his body leaned, and the direction his feet were facing before making your move.

You tried to make all of your movements seamless and fast, but Baekhyun was still able to track them and quickly blocked the punch you threw at him. Your next thought was to aim a high kick toward his side, but he caught your leg mid-air and held it still.

You hopped around as you tried to balance on one foot and met his stare. You were shocked to find heat in his gaze, and suddenly, the position you were in seemed way too intimate for sparring.

"Can I have my leg back?" You breathlessly ask.

Baekhyun slowly looks down at your leg, like he didn't even realize he still held it, before quickly dropping it, shaking his arms out, and rolling his neck around.

The two of you backed away and sized each other up. You had yet to take Baekhyun down, and suddenly, you were very determined to do it tonight. The tension in your body would only be settled when one of you was on your back.

He takes a step toward you, and you step back in response, maintaining the same distance between you, and when he brings his arm back to strike, you dodge. Unfortunately, you were too late to realize it was a trick, and his leg was able to snake out and swipe you off your feet.

The panic came, just like it always did when you fell, and you grab his arm in a death grip on your way down. His body, not expecting the extra weight of another person, gave out, and he landed directly on top of you.

You both let out a small noise as your bodies smack into each other and then lay there for a second as you both try to figure out what just happened. Finally, the situation registers in your mind. Byun Baekhyun, a member of the deadly EXO and the guy you were stupidly attracted to, was laying on top of you.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you knew he could feel it because you could feel his beating erratically too. Both of you were already breathing heavily from the sparring, but the way his body molded around yours almost stole all your breath entirely. You could feel the strength of his body against the softness of yours, and it sent your mind into a wild frenzy.

As he leans his weight onto one of his arms so he wouldn't crush you, you search his eyes and let out a small gasp when you see the hunger in them. The noise draws his eyes down to your lips, and his tongue slips out to wet his own.

His gaze bounces between yours and your lips, searching for something, an answer or permission maybe, before he slowly lowers his head and claims your lips with his own. It was gentle and light at first, and the softness of his lips causes your remaining breath to disappear, but when you open your mouth and let him in, the kiss quickly turns more passionate.

His kiss sent an explosion of bright, colorful lights through your head, and it was enough to make you dizzy. His tongue slid into your mouth and quickly began teasing yours, and you couldn't get enough of it.  You tilt your head to the side, and he quickly deepens the kiss as his free hand slowly slides down the side of your body.

Everything felt right all of a sudden. Kissing Baekhyun made you feel like everything would be okay in the end. It made you feel like your head was going to explode, but you welcomed it because if this was how you were going out, you had absolutely zero complaints.

After a while, he slowly pulls away, but not before leaving one more soft kiss on your tingling lips. You gradually open your eyes, and the two of you stare at each other in amazement. You were never the romantic or fairy tale type of girl, and you never believed that people were made for each other, but with Baekhyun, you wanted to be.

A noise across the room breaks the spell the two of you had fallen under and the mumbled words of an apology have both of your eyes widening.

The two of you look over at the source of the noise and see a flustered young man still apologizing and looking everywhere but at the two of you. You had no idea who he was, but you assumed he was another member in one of the guys' units.

The thought was confirmed when Baekhyun quickly scrambles off of you. You search his face to get an idea of how he's feeling, and a small flash of hurt and confusion goes through you when you see the spooked out look on it.

Was he worried about the younger man telling someone? Your brother, maybe? Was it something else entirely? Did he... did he regret kissing you?

Before you could get any of these questions out, Baekhyun excuses himself and quickly takes off toward the exit, leaving you laying there all alone.

Tagging: @knjkitten @kpopserene @multifandombxxch @tashaxvamp @kpop---scenarios @bhyunni @chanyeolismybaby @flaming-laboob @taetaeeyong @lilbitoflyssa @misstressporkchoppp @hoseok-wang @spiltkpop @isha454 @depuis2mille @marovekian1 @ladylynae @abby8451 @lynniev @insta1010 @sawadabegum @avxngxrrogxrs @equesasprokishi @imstuckinafictionaluniverse @layisanangel @mongryong-the-corgi @overthelamebowz​ @lizbether01 @thatanonymousgirl-as14​ @nothingbutadeadesceane​ @kim-ji-hyeons-world​ @suhappysuho​ @futuremrspcy​

[shintorikhazumi]

A Real Girl Chapter 2: Feelings 2.0

A/N: Just like my other story in LWA (that I can’t focus on huhuhu), I’m composing this update while in the hospital, watching over my dad. There isn’t any internet so I guess I can focus quite a bit haha. I feel like the pacing of this chapter is off, or awkward somehow? I should’ve extended the first chapter more. Welp, too late for that. I guess I’m trying to expand the background information on how this universe works? It’s quite close to canon-verse where Sayo used to not really get along with everyone, and slowly improving lately, but tailored to the Sayo of this story??? I’m braindead, I’m sorry hahaha.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

  A Real Girl Chapter 2: Feelings 2.0

  Sayo did not like having feelings.

It wasn’t that she hated all the mushy drama that came alongside it. It wasn’t that she particularly disliked the anxiety of having negative- and even positive- feelings. No, it wasn’t that at all.

She simply didn’t fancy the complications it brought to her practical lifestyle. She had yet to fathom such things, and more often than not, her system could not process the actions and reactions brought about by emotions. Moments when she did try only ended up in the usual overheating, and sometimes confusion and jumble of information running through her head, always rendering her unable to organize the sensory data she was receiving from her body.

She just couldn’t seem to handle all that. It was a system overload.  Something she couldn’t hope to control. And control was what she understood she needed; control over this life of hers. If she could not contain the wild horses that were feelings, she could not live her life to its realest, most authentic capacity. That was what she believed. And she believed that Sayo Hikawa was incapable of having feelings.

-//-//-//-//-

  The dinner that followed her regular meeting with her parents had been… fine, Sayo supposed. It wasn’t all that awkward. To her it wasn’t, at the very least. She tried to scan her other family members for any signs indicative of discomfort, and upon finding nothing unusual, she had released a small sigh of relief that did not go past her surprisingly perceptive sister.

Hina then asked her if anything was wrong, to which she would reply her usual assurances; that she was fine and there was nothing to worry about, offering a calm smile before proceeding to eat her food to hopefully signal to the younger twin that this particular conversation was over.

Hina understood and seemed willing to relent, dropping any plans of further interrogation. She instead turned to her parents, continuing one of her many ridiculous tales. This one happened to be of how she may or may not have tried to convince the school principal to go bungee jumping with her off the school’s highest building, which was probably what had been the cause of this week’s call to the office for her parents.

Sayo felt her facial muscles work to form a small smile outside her manual prompting. Something deep down inside told her it was because she was amused with her younger sister’s antics. Quite an uncommon occurrence as Hina’s antics were usually nothing short of headache-inducing.

“Feeling quite cheery, aren’t we Sayo?” Her father piped up, noticing the smile on his eldest daughter’s face. Albeit miniscule to some, to her family and friends, it was a clear indicator that Sayo was in a pleasant mood, and that made them happy as well.

For some reason, having her whole family’s attention on her made her feel warm. Warmer than “normal”. Oh, this was troublesome. Sayo had been having these heat flushes far too often lately, it truly was messing with her system.

“N-no? I… or, yes, I… I suppose I am not in a foul mood, Father.” She responded, rigid as ever, but with a stutter she inwardly cursed at. Was she experiencing lag?

Despite her words, her family had gotten used to her responses and translated it as a positive ‘yes’. That was good enough in their books.

The rest of dinner remained clear of any suspense, and each Hikawa was grateful for that.

Hina had volunteered to tidy up the kitchen afterwards as their parents were preparing to take their leave, so Sayo was left with the task of seeing the pair off by the door.

…

There were a few moments of tense silence as Sayo watched her parents. Her father avoided her gaze by leaning down to tie his shoelaces, the action taking a little too long compared to the average time; while her mother was the complete opposite, staring a little too intently back at her. She didn’t know what to make of this situation. Her sensors picked up body language cues that translated to them having something they still wanted to say before leaving, but the longer they took to make even a squeak, the more Sayo wondered if they were all just burning away the precious seconds that could have been spent on safe travel for her parents, and dedicated guitar practice for Sayo. She would have preferred spending her time wisely, even if it was a Saturday night. She had band practice tomorrow, after all.

“Sayo-“ Her father had finally began, reaching a hand up above the said girl’s head. Sayo felt her heartrate pick up, eyes glued to the motion, waiting, before her father retracted it back to his side. The action brought about a physical weight increase in Sayo’s chest area, and she almost asked her father about it; but the question died before even leaving her mouth, a different hand catching her off-guard.

Her mother had cupped her cold cheek with her warm hand, eyes glistening somewhat, searching for something Sayo could not figure out.

“Mother?”

A beat of silence.

“We really do love you.” The older woman whispered, still looking into Sayo’s eyes, still searching, not knowing if she’d find what she sought. “We really do.”

Sayo had no idea how to respond to the sudden affection, and simply nodded her head silently. What she did know was that what had previously weighed in her chest seemed lighter, though not completely gone-

That familiar large, calloused hand that belonged to her father- it now lay on her head, patting a few times before his thumb stroked the top of her head, then swept across her forehead, moving her fringe aside for a moment to clearly display her surprised face. The weight had completely dissipated, and Sayo would admit that she was slightly in awe, and curious as to if this was part of whatever update had taken place, and if her parents had a new manual for her to read so that she could better understand and control all these odd mishaps with her body as of late. They hadn’t really made those in recent developments, only verbally instructing and vaguely explaining to Sayo functions she could and could not perform.

Her musings were cut short by the words she was still getting used to.

“We love you and…” The man she labelled as her father started, “We’re sorry we’re late”. She felt her brows furrow, a wrinkle forming between her eyes.

“What do you-“ Before Sayo could even ask what those words had meant, Hina’s familiar singsong voice had interrupted the exchange.

“Huh? Why are you guys still here?” Seeing as she was now here, Sayo inferred that the Kitchen and dining room had been cleaned up, and that they had lingered by the doorway for far longer than she thought.

The ribboned girl looked between her parents and sister, confused at the atmosphere shrouding them.

“S-sorry, sweetheart. Just had a lot of things to remind your sister.” Mr. Hikawa smiled, moving forward to wrap his younger daughter in a hug. “You know, reminding her to take care of you, and not overwork herself.”

“Oh yeah, Onee-chan does that a lot.” Hina agreed, seemingly buying it. “I do try to tell her to have fun and stuff, but she never listens!”

“You never listen to the voice of common sense, either.” Sayo quipped. “And your idea of fun is fairly life-threatening.” She whispered the last part to herself.

“Anyway! We also had to talk the usual budget for you guys, and just… stuff.” Their father finished the little white lie fabulously.

“Right!” Hina nodded, believing every word… probably.

With a cough from their mother, Hina escaped her father’s hold and gave the eldest woman a gentle, but enthusiastic embrace.

Once over and done with Hina’s affectionate goodbye’s, the Hikawa couple bid their daughters a farewell, leaving hand in hand until their figures escaped Sayo’s line of sight.

Breaking out into a sigh, Sayo locked the door behind her as the twins headed for their respective rooms to retire for the night.

Sayo felt dissatisfaction stir within her. She had so many questions she wanted answered when she found that it was time for her parents’ regular visit, but now that they had left, she had even more than what she started with instead of less as she had planned.

Mumbling her goodnight to her sister, she closed the door to her room with a silent click.

Unlike her usual graceful manner of carefully sitting or laying down on her bed, Sayo had unceremoniously plopped face-first into the soft mattress, once more unknowing of the reasons as to why she performed this action.

Something was off with her lately. Even more-so after these last few updates. She seemed to be dancing to subconscious promptings, acting with less thought and calculation than she usually would- should, according to everything that was initially written in her learning manual.

She had thought her parents would spot these errors without her having to mention it, but somehow it seems things had only gotten worse.

The way the two were acting towards her lately only further supplemented her confusion. All these ‘we love you’s were not something she was used to, at all. She had only begun to get comfortable with Hina’s overbearing affection the past few months, and now her parents were being… odd.

Burrowing her face into a pillow, Sayo found herself thinking back to her past as a child. She had always known that there was a difference between her and Hina. There was a difference between how her parents addressed her, and how they fawned over her younger sister.

She recalled the stiff interactions, the formal instructions, the commands, the rare, but still awkward praises when she accomplished tasks she was supposed to better than expected, and the… times she would look on from afar as her sister received what she later on learned to be “hugs” from their parents.

Something she never had the pleasure of receiving as a small child. At least from them. Hina- bless her soul, Sayo would now say- was the only one willing to ‘teach’ her these things. Other kids at school never bothered to interact with her either. She was too expressionless, too scary, too serious, too-

Too Unhuman.

She would’ve laughed had it not been such a hurtfully accurate notion.

In comparison to her experiences, through clear lens, Sayo observed that Hina and their parents communicated with warmth; how the girl was guided with affection and encouragement, and lifted up due to her sheer genius.

In all honesty, Sayo had to admit she envied Hina then, that genius she had. She sometimes pondered the thought of being programmed to perfection, without flaw, weakness, or struggle. Would that have made her a genius too, at least in the eyes of normal men? Would that have earned her praise even if it wouldn’t matter to a freedom-less girl like her? -Was she even a girl at this point?

She might not be.

Still, she envied it quite a bit. Yes, the fact that Hina was a genius was what she was jealous of, nothing more.

She had read on it in an article once; how children could often feel jealous if attention and care were not distributed fairly by parents, leading to feelings of neglect and lack of relational connections. Had Sayo been a normal girl, maybe this would’ve been so; however, she believed that it would not apply to someone like her… someone like her… something like her…?

After all, there… was no reason for her to desire anything like love, adoration, or care, was there? Being able to perform as she was designed to, being able to do what she had to- those were what mattered in this “familial” relationship between her and her parents.

Right?

…

Rolling onto her belly, she stared up at her ceiling, body not up to the usual task of devoted guitar playing for tonight, it seemed.

She sighed.

Blinking once, twice, she noticed and remembered that up on her ceiling were glow-in-the-dark stars that Hina had insisted to put up in Sayo’s room, along with a lone crescent moon that paired with Hina’s sun in her own quarters. For some reason, she couldn’t help but compare that to their own social situations at the moment.

If people were stars, Hina belonged with the stars as the sun was still a star. It might be more prominent and more known to most inhabitants of the earth, just as Hina was someone popular to many, even to strangers; but still, she was one of them. Even if she had to shine alone in the morning sky, people still knew she was- and still grouped her as- one of the stars. She was most definitely a star too.

Sayo, however, could not relate. Hina had told her she was the moon, and even if it tries to shine alongside the stars, it will not- and never be- a star. And in the moon’s moments, where the city lights drown out all the stars, even the moon’s shine is dulled and it is truly alone; and though it is seen on the same stage, in the same night sky, no matter how much it would try to blend in with the crowd… it would never be a star.

Sayo would never be a star.

Another sigh. A toss. A turn.

Again, her line of thinking drifted to the changes she and her family seemed to be going through. Somehow, she found life somewhat easier back when everything had been so professional. It may have seemed like she was neglected and alone, but such negativities could be adapted to, could be grown out of. Sayo could simply get used to it, suck it up like the mature person she was, and move on. Or at least that’s how it was to the outside onlooker. To Sayo, it was just normal for there to be distance. She wasn’t really a part of their family.

She wouldn’t be able to understand it anyway.

So why did everything have to take a turn?

Actually… When did everything suddenly take a turn?

Was it when she had first met Yukina? Was it as Roselia progressed into a proper band? Or was it when they became friends, bound by music, never to be broken apart?

Was it when Lisa stepped up to help her with Hina after Sayo had gone too far with her distancing? The gentle hand on her back, drawing circles as the brunette listened intently to her confusion and woes, and taught her a little bit more about what relationships were? Was it that?

Sayo had no clue.

One day, everything just seemed to morph; her reality was changing. The improvement of her relationship with Hina may have marked the most significant wave of change. Sayo found herself able to decipher her constant home companion bit by bit. She could guess what the girl was up to, she could figure out her moods, and keep up with her whims (she hoped).

Then suddenly, her parents showed up more often than the usual check-ups. They listened intently during Sayo’s parent-teacher conferences, they no longer constantly reminded her of their expectations for her, they would actually send her messages outside the usual appointment updates, or information briefing, or requests. They would tell her how they saw a guitar model that Sayo might like; texted her that if she wanted anything for Christmas, she could tell them.

She would catch her mother’s stare many times, before the woman offered her a nervous, or kind smile. Her father would constantly ask her about her preferences for updates.

And what unnerved her most of all, was the fact that they had been offering her physical affection (sure they were limited to pats, touches, or handholds, but it was odd enough) and constant “we love you”s. Something they used to only do in public setting to show that the family was on good terms with one another.

-not saying that they weren’t, because Sayo deemed that her being alive was enough proof that they were on good terms.

…such a scary thought, she now realizes.

Anyhow, it just so happened that even in private, her parents were now actively performing those aforementioned acts towards Sayo. Were they trying to build rapport with her? Trying to get on her good side? She had no complaints about their relationship in the past, so why did they have to try to change it up now?

And of course, the thing that bothered her the most… feelings.

Suddenly, the “feelings” prompts in her mind were no longer just emptily flashed words of alert with instructions on how she should act. They now did all these odd reactions to her body, made her lose her control, put errors in her usual calculations.

She didn’t know whether she liked it or not.

There was something within her whispering that this was what she wanted. Because it made her real, or at least pretend to be…

But her practical mind told her it would only serve to continue to burden her. This, she truly believed.

If that were so, why couldn’t she have it removed? Whatever program in her that involved these dreaded feelings? Her parents had told her she could always express her desires when it came to her recent upgrading. She was told she could ask for anything. So why wouldn’t she ask for one simple removal? One that would solve all her current distress, and quite possibly benefit her by giving her the efficient life she wanted?

She didn’t know.

She didn’t know why she was trying to cling to fragments of a false reality, a world where she wasn’t what she was. A lie in which… she was a real girl.

She just didn’t know.

And to these thoughts, her world shut down.

  -//-//-//-//-//-//-

  It was the weekend; what most students considered their free time- time to waste, time to slack off. They simply had so much time, away from the usual school day. And simply having this much time was all the more reason for Roselia to spend it on practice instead.

Sayo arrived early. She always did. It was part of her internalized time-table. She had one for almost all occasions. For school, for weekends with student council work, and without. Today, her schedule consisted of waking up, preparing breakfast, washing up and getting dressed. Then she would eat, get on the seven-forty-five train, arrive at circle and ask for the reserved room, grab a sweetened coffee by the vending machine, down it in ten, and enter the practice area to tune her guitar and do warm-ups until everyone else arrived. Everything she did was performed on the dot, down to the very last second.

There were days where tiny deviations from her predicted happenings occurred, but nothing that would throw her off completely. They sometimes came in the form of any other member arriving earlier than her. In the case of Minato Yukina, she guessed it wouldn’t be all that odd. At the beginning, they would simply regard one another with a small nod before continuing onto their individual warm-ups. As Roselia’s relationship improved however, they often exchanged small talk, or opinions on the band and each other’s personal progress, seeking advice. If it were Ako who got there before Sayo, she would only pray that nothing was out of place, and that there were no soda spills on the carpets. She’d rather not have a repeat of one certain incident.

Rinko and Lisa were rarely the first people in the studio. Sayo dealt with is as it came. They would offer greetings and pleasantries, and focus on warm-ups, and that was it.

Or well, that was then.

It came little by little, but things were certainly different now. There were days when Sayo would come in just a few seconds before an Ako barreled right into her, apologizing, but not letting go without a quick hug around Sayo’s waist, and irresistible puppy eyes that almost always asked Sayo to pat her head before the younger girl would break out into a grin, satisfied, and ready to warm up. She really did remind Sayo of all the videos of dogs she’d watch out of some form of habit, possibly; filling up a personal database file all on their own.

Rinko, she-…

Well, she wasn’t as scared of Sayo anymore. That could be noted as some sort of improvement. It wasn’t as if they never got along before, but work in the student council felt just a tad bit more relaxing, and quite enjoyable lately, if Sayo were to be honest. Rinko was like a breath of fresh air amongst everyone else’s eccentricities- including those other band girls outside their own.

Then… there was a pair that had suddenly been throwing her for a loop.

Minato Yukina and Imai Lisa. One so cold and aloof, avoided like a harsh winter day; and the other heated and sociable, passionate in dance and music like the summer… At least, that was how Sayo saw them at the beginning.

It came as sudden as all the other surprises in Sayo’s present life. Sayo spotted a silver songstress on her knees in a hidden corner of the park, leaning down towards a tiny kitten in what she saw was a shared eskimo kiss. She felt a stall between the beats of her heart. And it became a memory she’d never forget, sometimes replaying itself in her moments of slumber. Sayo realized that Yukina wasn’t just the snow, she was also the spring that came in turn right after.

The bassist, on the other hand, proved to also be the fall. A beauty to behold, making you forget the coldness it actually had. Lisa had days where she would doubt herself; days where her silence would issue warning sirens in Sayo’s poor confused system, prompting her to offer gauche comfort- the only kind she could manage in her uncertainty.

It didn’t help that the girl wore the scent of cinnamon and pumpkin spice pie, and all the sweet little guilty pleasures hardwired into Sayo’s poor mind (It was a weakness she would never admit to- she wondered if her parents added such a detail in the blueprint for personal amusement); and the fact that she’d casually offer an embrace that caused those fragrances to overwhelm the stiff guitarist was an additional trigger, along with a Yukina who smelled of vanilla and cookies- though the latter was probably just due to the crumbs from Lisa’s treats that the unexpectedly clumsy leader of Roselia got all over herself.

She often tried to ignore the way Lisa would cling to her and Yukina’s arms as they walked to or from the studio, or to a gig; she would try to ignore the warmth that suddenly spread from the point of contact between them to her entire body. She would also ignore the jitters and “flutters” she would feel when her eyes would meet Yukina’s mid-song, and the tiniest of smiles would play on the singer’s lips and- was that a wink, Minato Yukina?!

It irked Sayo that almost everything she had gotten used to and inputted into her data bank of memories over the course of her seventeen- eighteen years of existence were slowly changing; herself and Hina, their parents, and now, even Roselia and the rest of their girls’ band peers. Heck- even the students at school had begun to greet Sayo as she monitored the halls (which was already quite the feat, as they usually screeched or shuffled their merry way out of hers), even when she wore her usual- as Lisa and Hina so fondly called- “resting bitch face”; stoic and devoid of emotion.

How could everything just be so confusing-

“..yo? Sayo! Sayo?”

Ah. This voice sounded plenty confused as well.

“Sayo, is something the matter?”

A hand on her shoulder, and another in a worried clasp around her bicep, pulling her to spin around, face-to-face with furrowed green eyes almost matching her own.

Had she been lost in thought?

“Imai…san.” Sayo regarded with a slow nod, each syllable carefully spoken.

A hand shot out to touch her forehead, accompanied by the concerned question of, “Are you sick?”.

Well, good morning to you as well, Imai-san.

Despite the lack of proper greetings from everyone, the guitarist decided to simply answer the question before things went for worse. Sayo shook her head no, the action allowing her eyes to notice that the room was complete with all of Roselia’s members staring at her, perplexed at the bizarre, unusual Sayo they had just stumbled upon, guitar slung over her shoulders, but staring at a blank wall for who-knows-how-long before the rest arrived.

“Are you sure?” Lisa pressed, though that wasn’t the only thing she was pressing apparently, as one of Sayo’s hands was clasped between both of Lisa’s and was currently held against her fairly mature che-

“Sayo, I believe we’ve had a talk about this before, but if you are sick, one must not overexert themselves as this would trouble our band in the long run.”

“Yes, thank you, Minato-san.” –‘for taking my mind away from somewhere I’d rather it not be in.’. Sayo completed the sentence silently, hoping no one suddenly developed the powers of mindreading. “But still, I am fine and most certainly healthy.”

“You are most welcome.” Yukina gave in reply. “But I also don’t believe you all that much, Sayo. Not with your history of overwork.” Stepping in closer, the shorter girl took Sayo’s other hand in her own, giving it a squeeze. “So do tell us if you need a break today, and you shall have it.”

Oh, it had started again. Those thumps and irregular skips in Sayo’s pulse, the desire to run to the comfort room with her coolant for just a bit, the shaky breaths.

“I- I truly appreciate your kindness, but I am certainly fine and I would love to never burden you with something like a missing member due to negligence with my health.” Sayo once more tried to convince them of the truth. It was difficult.

“Really?” Gold and green interrogated, moving the slightest bit too close into Sayo’s personal space and mental safety barrier. Did they really not trust her to regulate and discipline herself with her health, much more after her first blunder?

The answer seemed to be yes.

Even Rinko’s tiny whispers of, “Hikawa-san” relayed her sincere worry for Sayo’s well-being, along with Ako’s less-than-subtle fidgeting. And while she was grateful for their sincerity, it felt a bit overbearing.

Sayo sighed for… some numbered time now. She’d done that a lot lately.

“Really.”

That seemed to have worked as everyone visibly relaxed, Ako and Rinko continuing on with their set-up and warm-ups. Sayo would have hoped that this would influence the other two in front of her to do the same; and they did. They did get to that…

But not without a gentle squeeze on her hands, a pat from Yukina, and a blown kiss from Lisa that only made it feel much hotter.

And why this was?

She still could not fathom.

And she hated that fact.

-//-//-//-

  She would definitely have to apologize later.

Practice had gone nowhere. Sayo’s perfect, calculated playing, everything done with precision and a charm solely hers… it just wasn’t there. And all because of her damned updated mind that kept bringing up two pairs of warm hands, and faces that seemed to be glowing in her eyes. Then there was the matter of Lisa’s… upper… half…

“We stop here for today.” Yukina’s usual stoic voice commanded, though Sayo could hear the frustration oozing out. She clearly was not pleased, and that was all because of Sayo’s lackluster performance.

Everyone nodded in reluctant agreement, each moving to fix up their instruments, securing them in their cases.

As they were ready to leave, lights turned off and door open in wait for the guitarist to be the last member to step out, Sayo spoke, stopping under the shadow of the darkened room in a bow. “I apologize. I’ll do better next time. Today’s subpar performance was clearly due to my lack of concentration and I shall do my utmost in correcting my-“

“Sayo.”

Said girl looked up from her perfectly ninety-degree bow.

“It’s okay.”

Scanning each of her bandmates’ faces, their expressions all responded with the same thing.

It’s okay.

“Really, Sayo-san, you should tell us if you feel a little sick! You work so hard, taking a break shouldn’t be a problem for you!” Ako laughed, but it had this little nervous color to it that expressed her care for Sayo.

“Ako…chan… is right. Hikawa-san… you already… play so well. You’d never…fall behind even if… you missed one session.” Rinko gave one of her most comforting smiles, and Sayo felt the desire to smile back. And she did.

“Even if I held you all back?” Sayo asked.

“What nonsense. A member of Roselia would do no such thing!” Yukina stated with conviction. “And in the impossible case that you did,” She grabbed Sayo, pulling her out of the dark room, and into the light, in the bright hallway with everyone else. “-then we’d pull you right along. We’d do that for each other, for any comrade.”

“She’s right. We’d do it in a heartbeat.” Lisa latched on to her arm, resting her head slightly on Sayo’s shoulder, almost nuzzling the spot, which would have been bad for Sayo’s processors. “I’m sure we all feel that way.” The brunette added good-naturedly. But those words held a not-too-pleasant weight for Sayo.

‘We all feel that way.’

All.

Feel.

“Right. Of course.” Sayo nodded, covering up the sudden shakiness in her legs by taking a firm step forward, still attached to the two same-year best friends.

Like wild horses being held back that suddenly broke their fence, her thoughts ran. Roselia trusted her. As a teammate, a bandmate, a comrade… a friend. So how was she to tell them she wasn’t like all of them. That she didn’t know how to feel?  How was she to explain that their warm, heartfelt sentiments were things she could not return genuinely?

How could she explain that the so-called emotions she portrayed were automatic, programmed responses? How could she possibly tell them that even she did not know her own sincerity towards the band, how she no longer knew if what she was doing was out of necessity and a must for self-preservation- a “professional” type of relationship; or if it was because she harbored what they had in their own souls. A love for other people.

No. It couldn’t be that.

She knew what it was. But that was textbook knowledge. She could never apply that to her own understanding and utilization.

She wasn’t meant to be able to do that. It wasn’t in her manual. Feelings never were. No matter how many years had passed. She’d never get to understand it.

Humans smile because they are happy. They cry when they are sad, they get angry because of unpleasant things. These little facts were what she was introduced to as the basis for telling emotions.

But then Hina smiled even though Sayo hurt her; Lisa cried when they got her flowers she loved for her birthday, and celebrated with her. Yukina got angry when another presumptuous producer offered to take them to a world stage.

It didn’t make any sense. Their reactions brought about by feelings were nothing like the manual. They were nothing so simple. They were so complex.

Too complex for a non-genius… nonhuman, non-girl like Sayo to understand.

But how could she say that to people who trusted her? That she wanted to offer a genuine trust in return to, but couldn’t possibly do so.

Again, she was far too deep inside the caves of her mind, peripheral sensors crippled to the world causing her to misstep, lunging forward for a faceplant-

…that never came.

Two bright smiles, warm eyes, and soulful emotions.

They teased and taunted, made Sayo heat up, heart threatening to explode at the sheer speed it pumped, but the notions also enough reason for her blood to run cold with unjustified envy- one that should not be able to exist within the teal-haired girl either. Because why should they be able to feel the way they do and bask in the enlightenment feelings brought. Why couldn’t Sayo? But then again, why did she care when it shouldn’t have mattered to her in the first place?

Confusing. Vexing. Frustrating.

And as Yukina held one of her hands, and Lisa clung to the other just as they did hours earlier, Sayo only felt more disdain for the concept she labelled as “feelings”. They made her bitter deep down, not because of their good intent, but that she knew not what these meant. They just weren’t for her. Feelings would never be hers to attain, they would never let Sayo own them; understanding of them constantly slipping from her grasp.

So she ended up hating them. Hating having feelings. Hating feelings.

Feelings that could never be felt by Sayo’s cold Mechanical heart.

    A/N: And that’s a… wrap?? I honestly… was stuck. I guess I’d rather treat this as chap 1 and the other as the prologue haha. My brain is so dried out tbh. Um… reactions? Comments?

~Shintori Khazumi

[abcdefanfics]

Prince charming part 2

Summary: You got a new job in a little kingdom and you work for the king there. Little did you know that one of his sons turned out to be the most charming guy you’ve ever seen.

Pairing: prince Shawn x reader

Warnings: mostly fluff. I’m really building the tension up here.

Words: 2.4 k

Part 1: https://abcdefanfics.tumblr.com/post/617476044415549440/prince-charming-part-1

“Hi there, I’m Shawn.” It took you a little while to put yourself together. “Nice to meet you Shawn, I’m (Y/N).” He stood up from behind the piano and you took in his tall form. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). What is the reason of your visit, if I may ask.” “I was hired to tutor His Royal Highness Prince Mason.” you explained and Shawn bursted into laughter. You did not get what was so funny about that, but you had to admit that hearing his sweet laugh lit you up inside. “I’m sorry, but what’s so funny about that?” “I’m sorry (Y/N), but hearing people call my little brother His Royal Highness cracks me up every time.” he said apologetic. 

OMG, his little brother you thought to yourself. You had just met a prince and you had acted around him like he was just one of your peers. “I am so so sorry, His Royal Highness.” you stuttered as you made some sort of medieval bow. You had seen people in movies bow before royalty like that, but then you realised it looked stupid and that you had made a complete fool out of yourself. Your thoughts were confirmed when Shawn again bursted into laughter. “Please (Y/N), just call me Shawn, it’s fine.” “But you are King Mendes’ son and Mr. Johnson explicitly told me to always address the royal family properly.” you said in disbelief. “Well, Mr. Johnson can kiss my royal ass.” Shawn said. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that. It’s just that talking to you even for those two minutes made me feel like a normal human being for the first time in my life.” he said with sadness present in his voice.

“But it must be amazing to be a prince like I mean you get to live in this castle and everybody adores you and you have fancy dinners all the time.” you tried to cheer him up. “I must admit that the fancy food is definitely an advantage of being a prince. However, I can never go outside the castle’s properties on my own, I have to attend dull meetings and banquettes and to be frank I have no friends whatsoever.” You really felt sorry for him and you tried to comfort him by putting your hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I had no idea.” you said sincerely. “It’s okay. I don’t hate my life. There are a lot of good parts in it as well, but sometimes I just want to be normal.” he said innocently while he held his hand through his brown locks. 

You looked at your watch and realised you didn’t have that much time left to prepare yourself for the dinner that night. “Shit, I got to go get dressed for the dinner. See you tonight.” you said as you hurriedly made your way to the door. “(Y/N), wait.” Shawn exclaimed and you turned around to face him again. “Will you do me a favour.” he asked while looking at the ground. “Yes, of course, what is it?” “Can you please pretend like we didn’t meet yet? See, my father will be pissed when he finds out that we met like this, so informal.” “You can count on me.” you said with a wink before you returned to your room to get ready. 

You left Shawn standing in the middle of the room still staring at the door you excited minutes prior. He had never really met a girl his age. Well actually he had, but he never met a girl his age he truly liked. Princesses and duchesses from all over the world would occasionally visit. However, they were only after his riches. They wanted for him to marry them to expand their kingdoms and live a life of fortune and fame. His father would go on and on about how he turned down every girl that ever visited. But how could his father think that he would ever marry anyone when it wasn’t out of love. And he had never felt anything but hate and dislike for the girls his father invited for him. And he knew he could never marry a girl like (Y/N), but there was something about her that just made him like her like he had never liked anyone else before. 

You had just taken a short shower as you put on one of your dresses. You were glad you did some shopping before you left, so you had plenty of fancy clothing to wear. Your dress was an emerald green one. It was loose around your legs, tight around your upper body and your sleeves were made of lace. You did your hair and make-up and after you had put on your heels it was time to leave for the dinner. Mr. Johnson had told you to come to the same room you had met him. You entered the room perfectly on time and Mr. Johnson, who was already there, complimented you on your punctuality. “His Majesty and His Royal Highness Prince Shawn and Prince Mason will arrive any minute. So I expect you to be on your best behaviour.” Mr. Johnson said strictly. “Yes, sir.” you replied nervously. 

Not even a minute had past before a tall and good looking man entered the room followed by his two sons. You recognised him as King Mendes, because there was a painting of him in the room you were currently at. You made a simple bow (Mr. Johnson had explained it properly so this time you didn’t make a fool of yourself). “It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss (Y/L/N).” the King said as he had walked up to you to shake your hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Majesty.” you said politely. The Kings youngest son introduced himself as Mason and he explicitly told you to just call him Mason. The King didn’t seem too happy about this informality and you now understood why Shawn had asked you to withhold the fact that you already met. 

He walked towards you and you also bowed before him before you appropriately introduced yourself and he shook your hand as he introduced himself politely. He winked at you when he was sure that no one was watching and quietly mouthed “thank you”. You just smiled at him and nodded. The King guided you to the dining room as he sat down at the head of the table. You sat across Shawn and you noticed that he was looking at you throughout the dinner. After you sat through all the courses and the King made sure you were suitable as a tutor you were dismissed to your room to rest. You stood up from the table and bowed before the King and his sons one more time before you excited the room. 

Back in your room you changed into a pair of shorts and a tanktop, ready to go to bed as you did not have anything else to do. Once you laid down in the insanely large bed and you had covered yourself with the silky sheets someone knocked on your door. You got out of bed and opened the door only to look into the gorgeous brown eyes that belonged to Shawn. He quickly got inside and closed the door after he made sure that no one saw him. He turned around and looked at you as if he had never seen a girl before. “Shawn, what are you doing here?” you asked surprised. “I just had to see you now, because tonight I didn’t have the chance to tell you how beautiful you looked.” he said as he looked deeply into your eyes. You started blushing because of his intense look. “Thanks, you didn’t look that bad yourself.” “And I also came over to just talk, because I really like to get to know you.” “I’d like that too.” you said as you laid back on the bed again and moved over for Shawn to lie next to you.

You could see the doubt in his eyes when he stood on the edge of your bed. “It’s okay, Shawn.” you said. “I won’t bite. Not unless you want me to.” you added with a smirk. For a second Shawn thought about you lying on top of him, while you were kissing him and gently bit his lip. He quickly shook his head and said to himself that it is wrong to think about a girl in that manner. He finally lay down on the bed, making sure there was still plenty of room between the both of you. 

You both just lay there for a while staring at the chandelier on the ceiling. “I’m sorry about my father.” Shawn said after a while. “He can be so cold at times.” “It’s fine.” you assured him. “No it’s not. I’m not going to let him treat you like he treats everyone else. Like they are less than we are, because you’re not.” he said as he turned over to face you. “I know I’m not and I don’t blame you for how your father acts.” you said sweetly. “He hasn’t always been like this, you know. He was a much warmer man before my mother died. I believe that when she died a piece of him died with her.” he said whit sadness in his eyes. “I’m so sorry about your mother.” you said while your hand shortly brushed his cheek. “It has already been nine years since she passed away. My father still hasn’t recovered from her passing yet and I don’t think he ever will.” 

Another moment of silence went by before Shawn started speaking again. “That was enough about me, now I want to know everything about you.” “Everything?” you laughed. Shawn nodded. You started telling him your life story and you talked and talked for hours and Shawn listened the whole time without losing his focus. After you had finished you jokingly said “Thank you all very much for listening. Are there any questions?” “I actually do have a question. If that’s okay.” he asked shyly. You nodded. “How is it like to fall in love with someone?” he then asked seriously. You were perplexed for a moment not sure what to answer. “You mean you never been in love before?” you asked surprised. “No I liked none of the girls my father invited for me.” “Wait a sec. Are you saying that you’re father picks girls for you to date?” you asked in disbelief. “No not just girls, but princesses or duchesses and not for dating, but for me to marry.” he answered. You just looked at him with widened eyes and open mouth. “I know it sounds strange, but it’s tradition in my family. That’s also how my parents got married.” 

“You can call it tradition, but I’m going to call it old-fashioned. We’re living in the freaking 21st century.” you practically screamed. “I know, but I can’t convince my dad otherwise. Because he met my mother like this and because they were extremely happy together he thinks that it will be best for me and for the kingdom.” “I just got to ask. Does this also mean that you never been with a girl before you know physically?” you asked shyly. “No, of course not I haven’t engaged in any kind of physical relation with a girl whatsoever. I never got married.” he said offensively. “You mean you’re going to save yourself for after marriage?” you asked to make sure you understood him properly. “Yes, of course. Why are you acting like that’s so weird?” “Well maybe because hardly anyone does that nowadays.” you said a bit sarcastically. “Wait, are you serious? My father assured me that that’s something you save till after you’re married. And that that is what all real man do.” Shawn said in disbelief. You assured Shawn that only few people still save themselves, but that you also believe that it is more common in royal families. 

It took Shawn a little while to process all this. “Wait, but does that mean that you have slept with someone?” he asked shocked. “Yes, there have been some guys.” “Some? As in more than one?” “You know it’s not strange for people to sleep with other people without being married. Sometimes without dating or even knowing them.” you said defensively. “Apparently I have a lot to learn about the real world.” Shawn remarked. “I came here to tutor so you can leave that all up to me.” you said with a wink. “Earlier tonight I already felt like a sinner when I thought about kissing you, but I guess I was raised a prude.” Shawn said laughing. “You thought about kissing me?” you asked shocked. The idea of Shawn kissing you warmed your insides and you wondered how his mouth would taste. 

Only now Shawn realised what he said to you and his cheeks turned red. “I did not mean to say that.” he said apologetic. “It’s okay Shawn. And if you feel comfortable enough to kiss me then..” you were interrupted when a set of soft lips attached to yours. Your lips moved in perfect sync and you moved your hands up to grab his hair. You felt Shawns body tense because of your action. You licked his lips and gently bit underlip to ask for permission to enter his mouth with your tongue. Shawn moaned and slightly opened his mouth and you slid your tongue past his lips. Your tongues intertwined for the next few heavenly minutes before the both of you were out of breath. You looked up at his face to see that his eyes were still shut and his lips still parted. God he looked gorgeous like this. 

Shawn slowly opened his eyes and looked at you in awe. “Wow, (Y/N). That was amazing. I wouldn’t have wanted my first kiss to be any other way.”  he said sweetly. “And you truly are a natural talent.” you said with a smile. Shawn turned over and when he saw the time he jumped out of the bed and after he gave you a quick peck on your lips he made his way to your door. “It was a pleasure talking to you, (Y/N). But I really have to go now, because if my father finds out where I was he’ll kill me.” and with that he disappeared, while leaving you a hot mess. 

P.S. Part 3 will hopefully be up soon. And prepare for a little more filth... Hope you liked the way prince Shawn turned out to be.

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

I would do it all again

Ride or Die Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Mona and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after the first book.

Summary: After what happened at the parking lot, each member of the crew tries to build a new life, following the “every man for himself” motto. But Annie doesn’t agree with that and tries to pull them back together, especially Mona, who she has been waiting for too many years.

Warnings: none.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I would do it all again - Part 5

      “There’s paint in your… Everything.” Annie started to giggle, herself also covered in dark blue paint. “Gee, Avery, I think you’re right. We’re gonna be blue for the rest of our lives. Like little Avatars.”

         “I told you!” the other girl laughed too, trying to clean the paint out of her face with a towel, but only made it spread even more. She was shorter than Annie, with puppy brown eyes and an adorable big smile. Didn’t look nothing like her uncle Dominick. “But worth it. Look at this room. It’s perfect.”

         They stopped to admire the results of their morning’s work for a few moments. After days watching tutorials online and searching for the right materials, the room was finally finished. Mona had confessed to Annie her wishes to turn it into some sort of studio, where she could draw or practice her guitar skills again. Of course, the last time the Lebanese did either of those was even before meeting Annie in the first place, so it could be hard to catch up again. But her eyes lightened so beautifully at the idea, the girl couldn’t wait to have the room ready for Mona to start.

         That’s why backup was required, and who better than Avery? It was about time for Mona to meet her anyway, especially now that she had just returned from Italy after a family visit.

         “Do you think we have time to clean up before they arrive?” Annie peeked over the window, but there was no car to be seem in any side of the road.

         “Yeah, I think so. Let me call my uncle and check if he can hold back longer.”

         Dominick picked up the phone immediately, mumbling and pretending it was a work call. Between codes, he was able to reassure them it would take a while to get home, maybe an hour. That was the right amount of time for both girls to clean the room and themselves. When the car finally parked outside, Annie was brushing her wet hair while Avery finished putting the paint cans away in the mess room.

Mona’s voice was audible in the distance.

         “… never trust ‘em. Those supposedly safe economical cars are always a headache, they don’t survive a single storm on the road. If you gotta change cars, go for something with higher resistance, especially you who need to ride through this bumpy road every day.” The door was opened to reveal both Mona and Dominick carrying grocery bags inside. “Hey, babe. How are… What did you do?”

         The Lebanese narrowed her eyes, scanning the room for something dangerous. She knew that look on Annie’s face meant trouble.

“Nothing. Why?” the girl tried to put on an angelic smile.

         “You’re jumping in the same place. Why are you so excited? Should I be worried?”

         Avery popped her head from the hallway before Annie could answer the question. “Hi, everyone.”

         “Oh hey, cookie! Come here. Let me introduce you. Calil, this is Avery, my niece.” Dominick held the brunette girl from her shoulders, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “Cookie, this is Malika Calil. Or Mona.”

         “Or boss” Annie added, teasing.

         “Nice to meet you” Avery answered after a brief laugh. “It’s good to finally put a face to your name.”

         “Same here.” Although Mona wasn’t normally friendly, she got very fond of Avery. “So, what did you two do today to make Annie look like she’s about to shoot fireworks from her ass?”

         The teacher rolled her eyes, still too damn energic to stay still. “Ok, ok. C’mon. Avery helped me to do a surprise for you.”

         “Uh-oh.”

         “Don’t uh-oh. It’s a nice surprise, promise. Or I hope so, at least. If you hate it, we can change everything. No worries. It’s reversable. Most of it.”

         “Stop explaining, Ann.” Avery put a hand on her forearm, trying to prevent her friend from jabbing. “Just show her. Trust your guts. Be confident.”

         Mona arched her eyebrows in surprise. “I liker your attitude.”

         “Alright, c’mon. Close your eyes.” Annie held both the woman’s wrists and started to guide her in the right direction. “Wait. Not yet. Not yet. And… Okay, now. Open it.”

         Those dark eyes started to open slowly, a little bit afraid of what Annie had done, but then widened at the sight of the room. “Oh. My.”

         Mona was startled. Her soon-to-be studio had two of it’s walls painted in a dark shade of blue, with tiny sprinkles of silver that made it look like the night sky. The sprinkles would get bigger as it reached the ceiling, forming stars and constellations on it. The other two walls remained white, one of them with a huge drawing table by the window, favouring the natural light. The other, though, as soon as Mona approached, appeared not to be a simple white, but a paintable kind, like a white board where the Lebanese could write and erase anything as it pleases.

         It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

         “You said you’re a creature of the night. That the night sky inspires you. So… I… I hope it’s good. Like I said, we can change it, paint from scratch again, no problem. The important is for you to be comfortable here.” Annie hesitated, trying to work on her confidence like Avery suggested, but Mona was awfully quiet, and they couldn’t see her face, since she had the back turned.

         “Uhm… I’ll make some coffee. Help me, cookie?” Dominick pulled his niece gently by the elbow, closing the door behind them to leave the couple alone.

         Silence continued afterwards.

       Annie was slowly getting more and more terrified, especially when noticed Mona’s closed fists. She approached her carefully, hands lifting, but too afraid to touch. Mouth opened, but no word could be formed. Has she gone too far? Was the woman mad because the room was painted without her? Annie thought she had been so careful to listen to the signs, make a good choice…

      “Mon… I’m sor…” 

      “I love you.”

      When Mona turned around, there were tears in her eyes. The last time Annie remembered seeing her cry was six years ago, after the shooting, when they said goodbye to each other between blood and promises. Today, it was different. The woman wasn’t sad. Her black eyes were glowing with a sweet form of love, this time no longer afraid of cops breaking them apart. Fists still clenched, posture tense, but a warm expression. It was like her body didn’t match her heart at all… Like it was fighting against it’s own feelings.

        Annie approached her, breath caught on the throat, a sheepish smile emerging. Without sudden movements, she held Mona’s fists and brushed them with her thumbs, causing it to relax and slowly given up on the fight, obeying the heart’s commands. The girl only stopped when they were inches apart, diving in those beautiful Lebanese eyes like jumping in the night sky with no parachutes on. Their fingers intertwined at the same time Mona’s posture eased a bit, leaning in for a tender kiss that made Annie melt down in her arms.

     “I love you too.” Whispered Ann, eyes closed and foreheads together. “Did I hurt you somehow? Did I…?”

     “You could never hurt me. Not even if you wanted to.” Mona opened her eyes again, causing the girl to do the same. “I’m sorry I frightened you, I’m not mad or upset, far from that. I’m… It’s just… No one has ever done things like this for me before, Ann. I know this room is nothing compared to the other huge sacrifices and battles you have been fighting for so long, but it hit me hard. It’s so personal. So perfect. It’s not only safe, or careful, or well-planned, it’s also me. The real me. Like you can read me through and through. I don’t think anyone ever got so deep.”

       “I know you hate to talk about this kind of stuff. But I hope it’s already clear that I’m not standing here just ‘cause you’re hot and funny, although those are qualities worth mentioning, might I add.” Mona couldn’t stop smiling mischievously over that observation. “I’m not playing around or seeing where it goes, Mon. I worry about you. I want you to feel comfortable and free to be yourself again. Even if ‘yourself’ means not sharing the silly-feelings talk you dislike. I love you the way you are. I’m all in, babe. Head over heels. Sorry if it scares you, but that’s the truth. Deal with it. And my love comes with things like these surprises attached.”

       Annie gulped, afraid her statement had been too straightforward, but Mona didn’t back up, tense or hesitate at all. On the contrary, her arms involved the girl’s waist, bringing her closer into a not-so-tender kiss. It tasted like fire and sweetness at the same time, the type of kiss that could make someone falter between rip their clothes off or shout “I love you”. She didn’t know how much time that continued, since her full attention was captured by Mona’s lips and hands, until finally they ran out of breath and needed to break it for a second.

     “Man, I’ll repaint the entire house if it leads you to kiss me like that” Annie chuckled, hands entangled on the back of the woman’s neck.

      “Are you complaining I don’t kiss you passionately on a regular basis?” Mona arched her eyebrows, turning around to press the girl against the door, one leg between hers. “Well, let’s see what we can do to solve it…”

      Annie felt the air escape her lungs; knees so weak she would have fallen on the ground if it wasn’t for those tattooed arms sustaining her body. “Don’t tease me, we have guests waiting for us in the kitchen.”

      Mona growled, placing a last bite on the girl’s neck before finally releasing her. The way she trembled forward, still shaken up, made the Lebanese open a cocky smile. “My, my. Have I taken your strength so fast? I barely touched you yet.”

       “You know…” Ann held herself on the door handle, eyes locked with the woman in front of her. “It’s the ‘yet’ part that’s almost causing me a freakin’ heart attack right now.”

       Avery’s voice came from across the apartment. It smelled like fresh coffee even from the hallway. As Annie went to the kitchen to take a mug, she saw Mona’s phone lighting up on the balcony. Some random number was calling. “Mon, you’re phone’s ringing.”

      “She’s in the bathroom.” Dom was resting against the back of the chair, a half-empty package of biscuits on his lap. “You should answer, it could be her parole agent checking in.”

     The girl nodded, cleaning her throat before picking up the phone. “Hello. Can I help you?”

      A woman’s voice came from the other side of the line. “…Oh, yes. Hello. I am looking for Malika.”

     “She’ll be here in a minute. Who’s this?”

     “I am a… Childhood… Friend. We used to be very close. My name is Ada.”

     “Hm, I don’t remember your name, but Mon doesn’t talk a lot about her childhood.”

      “I see. And you are?”

     “Oh, sorry. Annie. I’m her girlfriend.”

     “…I can say I have been looking forward to meeting you. I’ve heard a lot about your story.”

     “Aww, that’s sweet, thanks. Hey, she’s here. Just a sec. Babe, it’s a friend of yours.” Annie offered the phone to Mona, watching her frown in confusion.

     “A friend of mine? Who?”

      “Ada.” She gave her girlfriend a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to sit by the balcony, never catching how Mona’s eyes widened.

      “Hi” the Lebanese said, her heart pounding against the chest.

      “Hi to you, baby girl. Guess who else got out on parole too?”

      For just a moment, Mona felt like her whole world was about to fall apart again.