#i mean i know a lot of us jumped to rolling up the welcome mat last year

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Good morning I woke up with Kelsea Ballerini's "Leave Me Again" stuck in my head 🙃

I hope I remember all the pieces Of who I was that I lost on the way I hope I learn to love myself like I loved you then And I hope I never leave me again

[weelittleweasley]

safe and sound (f.w.)

prompt: after getting caught in the rain and chased by death eater, you stumble upon a house and look for a safe haven inside. little did you know who would be waiting for you in that house.

pairings: fred weasley x fem! reader

warnings: running away, mentions of death, mentions of war, language, anxiety, sexual tension (of course), food, some classic longing stares, don’t worry it’s a fluffy ending 

word count: 9.7k (its so long im sorry)

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley @sweeterthansammy @loonylovegood13​ @gryffindcrghost​ @wand3ringr0s3 @valwritesx 

The engine of your car roared as rain slapped against the windshield, your chest heaving with fear, constantly checking your rear view mirror, pressing down on the gas as hard as you could. You whispered tiny prayers, hoping that you were going fast enough to outrun whoever was chasing you. Looking at the speedometer, you see that it slowly climbs to 85 miles an hour, then 90, then 95 as you search the dirt roads ahead of you for a clearing or any sign of life. “Please, please, please, please,” you whisper to yourself as you continue to speed through the English countryside, thunder rumbling behind you as the speedometer climbs and climbs. 

With each flash of lightning you jump a little in your own skin, mistaking it for the flash from someone’s wand, casting a hex on you. But you remind yourself that you must be miles and miles away from them and that you were safe. For now at least.

You continue to scan your surroundings, not recognizing where you were, the rain blurring your view outside. Regardless, you continue to drive, straight down the road, until you reached some place that looked like it had life. 

But your car had other plans. As you slammed your foot on the gas, there was a screeching sounds, and then a rumbling boom, before smoke started to appear from the front of the car. “Oh, come on! Not now!” you yell out in frustration, pushing your foot on the gas harder, hoping that the action would keep the car going. But much to your dismay, the car came to a simmering halt as you threw your head back with a groan. With the little life it had left, you pulled the car to the side of the road and put it in park, even though that would change a thing. The car was dead.

You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to think of something. You were stranded in the middle of nowhere, with just your wand, a small bag of your belongings, and dead car with half a tank of petrol. “Fuck,” you curse slamming your hands down on the wheel. 

Through the rain, you try to scan your surroundings again. The nearest town was still some ways away and you had no way of contacting anyone. Your best bet was to wait out here in the car until morning when the rain would hopefully stop and you could walk to the nearest town and get some help. “Bloody brilliant,” you huff, zipping up your jumper, folding your arms. 

As you lean in the driver’s seat, you try not to focus on the events that had precipitated previously; the thought was far too terrifying for you. Instead, you focused on the raindrops that streamed down your car window, as you pit one raindrop against another, making them race down the glass. 

But as you watch the raindrops fall, through the rain, in the distance, you can almost make out a small building. A house. Through the brush and the trees was a small home, the windows illuminated meaning there was a sign of life. “Thank Merlin,” you whisper to yourself as you unbuckle your seatbelt. 

You flip up your hood, trying to protect yourself from the rain, but to no avail. When you step outside of the car door, you are saturated in an instant, the cold and unforgiving rain soaking your jeans and jumper, dampening your hair through your hood. “Shit,” you huff as you start to take up a light jog, hoping and praying that the company in the small house was welcoming.

---

“I need another bucket!” Ron calls out as he stands under another leak in the Burrow, holding a small mug up to catch the dripping water. Ginny runs to the kitchen and grabs another bucket under the sink before handing it off to Ron. He places it on the floor before scurrying off the previous leaks that seem to appear throughout the Burrow. “Gin, can you take care of the leak on the second floor?” Ron calls out to which Ginny replies an On it! before scurrying up the stairs.

Molly Weasley is scrambling throughout the house before plucking her band from her dressing robe, “Reparo!” she casts as the roof seems to mend itself. She casts it a few more times around the house with a frustrated sigh each time. “That should hold us over for a while now. But keep the buckets there in case the leak starts again,” she tells Ron with a kiss on the forehead. 

“The attic seems to be fine!” George calls from the top of the stairs. “No water damage and no leaks inside. Can’t speak for the rest of the place,” he shrugs as he descends the stairs, Fred following not too far behind. 

Molly sighs, “Well, that’s the best we can ask for right now. One of you go help your father in the shed. He says there’s a tarp in there that we can lay out in case the storm gets worse.” With a curt nod, Percy starts outside to help Arthur out in the shed. The rest of the Weasleys flop on the couch with a huff. 

Storms like this always brought more bad than good. It did wonders for Molly’s garden, but as for the infrastructure of their house not so much. The Burrow was old and needed some renovations, but money was tight. Instead, simple fixes here and there did the trick during stormy weather. 

Ginny helps her mother light more candles around the house before heading over to the fireplace to get a fire going to warm the house. Ron shivers a little before running up to his room to grab a jumper to keep him warm. Fred looks over at George, mischief in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. George looks at his brother before picking up on his wave length. A stormy day always made for the most interesting quidditch matches. 

The twins rise from the couch, grabbing their coats before Molly interrupts, “And where do you two think you’re off to?”

Fred, without looking at his mother, speaks, “The weather is perfect for a quidditch match. Great practice. Reckon you’ll join, Gin?” Fred asks the youngest Weasley as she looks at him with excited eyes.

“None of you lot with be playing quidditch in this weather!” Molly exclaims with a firm tone and folded arms. Ginny looks at her mother with pleading eyes to which she brushes off. “The weather is wicked outside!”

George laughs, “Yeah, wicked for playing quidditch.” Fred joins in on the laughter, offering his twin a high five with his accepts.

“If you two disobey me, you’ll be in a wicked amount of trouble. Now put your coats down and help me start the fire. Fred, go fetch the old newspaper. George, get the wood from upstairs. We need to warm this place up before we all freeze to death,” she huffs as George and Fred reluctantly take off their coats with a groan. Yet they still obey their mother. 

George looks over to his twin, “You shouldn’t have told her we were playing quidditch. You should have made up something.”

Fred scoffs, “And said what? We’re replanting the peonies?” George rolls his eyes. “That’s what I thought. Now go get the fire wood like you’re told,” he teases his twin, earning him a slap upside the head. “Wanker.”

George disappears upstairs as Fred goes into the kitchen and grabs the old newspapers from the dining room table. Page by page he rips them into small pieces, crumpling them up, creating a fire starter. 

Suddenly, a great rumble of thunder comes from outside, startling the house Weasley family. They all quickly laugh it off with a shake of their heads. The storms were brutal in the summer months. But there it was again, another sound. But not quite thunder.

“Was that thunder?” Ron asks, crouched down by the fire place, helping George throw in the logs. 

Fred shakes his head. “No,” he listens closely again before it sounds again. Four bangs on the front door. Fred looks to his brothers and sister and speaks, “I thought Harry and Hermione were coming next week?”

“They are,” Ron answers with a puzzled look on his face.

Again, four more bangs on the front door, but now followed by a, “Is anyone home?”

Everyone’s eyes are wide with confusion. They expected no visitors, especially during a storm. But this only peaked their interest as to who was at the Burrow’s door at this time of night during a summer storm. Without much hesitation, Fred walks to the front door and swings it open.

In front, there you were. Body and clothes completely soaked with rain, shivering from the cold, lips purple and teeth chattering as you clung onto your thing jumper. Your hair was matted down with rain as droplets cascaded down your face as you looked at the tall, ginger haired boy in front of you. If you weren’t freezing your ass off, you would have stared at the handsome boy longer. But too consumed with the cold, you speak, “I need h-help.” Your words are shaky from your clattering teeth.

Fred looks at you, completely enthralled with the being in front of him. How could someone look so divine when drenched in rain water? Your lips were pressed together and shivered in your lavender jumper that matched the color of your lips. Small droplets of water fell from your hair and onto your feet as you sniffled. The sight was oddly charming. He snapped out of his thoughts and called out, “Mum!! We’ve got company!!” With a small smile, he opened the door further and welcomed you into the house as you sighed. “Come on then.”

You let out a breathy “thank you” as you entered the house, which wasn’t much warmer than outside, but it was better than being in the freezing rain. You stand in the middle of the house, a shivering, wet mess as you feel all eyes on you. Fred instructs Ron to get the fire started as he looks over to you, “How long have you been in the rain?”

“Uh, not long. I was in my car and then it broke down and I saw your house, so I ran over. Maybe ten minutes,” you shrug as the house slowly descends into madness, trying to help you out.

“Ten minutes too long,” Fred huffs with a smile before looking over at his mother. “She’s been walking in the rain. She needs to get warm,” Fred tells Molly whose face is painted with worry even though she didn’t know who you were. 

Molly rushes over to you and places her hands on your shoulders. “Oh, my dear! You’re frigid! Fred, start a kettle of tea! George, grab the quits from your room! Ron, is that fire ready?” she starts tossing orders out as her children comply, darting in all different directions. Molly guides you towards the living room where the fire was, placing you directly in front. “You poor thing. Where are you coming from?” she asks, rubbing your arms. “Here, give me that saturated jumper. Ginny, go fetch one of your jumpers to give...what’s your name, dear?”

You smile at the sweet woman and speak, “(Y/N).”

Molly smiles, “(Y/N). Go fetch (Y/N) a jumper.” Ginny darts off to her room as you sit in front of the fire, the heat already radiating making you feel much better. “My name is Molly, dear. That’s Ginny who ran off, this is Ron, and in the kitchen are Fred and George. My husband, Arthur, and other son, Percy, are in the shed, but they should be in in any minute.”

You furrow your brows as you look at Molly and then around at your surroundings at the people around you. Red hair. Small house. Molly. Arthur. Many siblings. They must be the-

“(Y/N)?” a voice calls from the other room in the door frame.

You look over and there Percy stands, a familiar face with matted curly red hair, wet from the rain. “Percy! Hi!” you smile as Percy walks over to you with a small smile before giving you a light hug. 

He laughs, “What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with Alyssa for the weekend?” 

From behind you a voice speaks, “Wait, I’m confused. How do you two know each other?” Ron looks between you and Percy confused as to how you recognized each other.

Percy speaks for you, “(Y/N)’s family works in the ministry. (Y/N) works as one of the assistants. Her father has high rankings with the ministry.” You smile up at Percy. It was true. Your family was heavily involved with the ministry, specifically with the regulation and control of magical creatures. That’s why you never really ended up going to school. You were guaranteed a job when you were born. Sometimes being at the ministry 24/7 was boring, but when you met Percy, it was a change of pace. Someone close in age to you and a new face to talk to. The two of you became fast friends. “We’ve been co-workers for sometime now.”

You look up at Percy and sigh, “I was with Alyssa. But, um,” you gulp, heart racing at the memory. “Something happened.” Percy gives you an inquisitive look as you look around you, now all of the Weasley’s eyes interested in what you had to say. So much for some privacy. “Alyssa’s father...he...got himself mixed with some of the wrong people...” you trail off as Percy sighs. “Lucius Malfoy decided to pay us a visit and...he killed him. Alyssa and I and her mother and sisters made it out in time, but we got separated. She just yelled at me to drive and...” you start becoming overwhelmed with the images of what had happened and tears start trailing down your face as a small sob escapes your lips as you quickly cover it.

Percy places a hand on your shoulder and rubs your back with a sad smile. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers as you pull yourself together with a deep breath. “You’re safe here. I promise that. Mum will take good care of you. We all will,” Percy gives you a small smile and for some reason, that makes you feel relaxed. Looking around at the people in the room, you feel comforted and safe. Something you needed after today. 

Coming back was Ginny with a fresh jumper. She gave you a good look and said, “You know what? Just come up to my room actually. You can wear some of my clothes and get out of those wet ones, yeah?” she offers you a kind smile and her hand as you gladly accept, following her up to her room.

As you disappear up the stairs, Fred watches you with a small smile on his lips. Molly and Arthur occupy themselves with talk about where you would sleep for the night and how they would reconfigure sleeping arrangements. George and Ron start fighting about how the fire isn’t big enough. But Fred just can’t stop watching you go up and up and up the stairs.

He clears his throat and then speaks, “Perc...hey.” Percy walks over to his brother. “This (Y/N) girl...she didn’t go to Hogwarts...did she?” he asks.

Percy shakes his head, “No. She’s been studying under her father since she was born practically. She’s a great person. Really funny, really smart, and damn good at her job,” he explains to Fred, who clings onto every last word. Fred didn’t know what it was, but there was something about you that just drew him in. And he wanted to know every thing there was to know about you. Percy quickly recognizes the look in his brother’s eyes and says, “Don’t get any ideas, Fred. Come on, she’s my friend.”

Fred shrugs, “So. Does she have a partner?” Percy sighs. “Great. So she’s available,” he wiggles his eyebrows as Percy slaps his arm. “I’m not gonna make a move on her, Percy! Godric...not yet at least.” But before Percy can slap him again, Fred is running away in the other room to join his twin and younger brother on the floor.

Practically jumping on George, Fred smothers his brother as George groans, “Would you get off of me, git?” Fred laughs before taking a seat next to him. “What’s got you so excited?” George looks at his twin before instantly realizing the change in his mood. “Good Godric, really? You fancy the girl? Merlin, Fred, she just got here and she’s clearly in distress over what she saw today!” George whisper yells at Fred who is too happy to care about what his brother scolds him over. 

He simply speaks, “I don’t plan on jumping on the girl tonight, George. I just am looking to get to know her better.”

“Before you jump on her,” Ron speaks, making George laugh as Fred slaps his younger brother upside the head.

“Hey! Who said I was doing to do any of that!” he defends himself. “I think she’s beautiful. I don’t know. There’s something about her that I...just can’t put my finger on. I don’t know. I just wanna get to know her better. Alright? Can you live with that?” Fred speaks to his brothers as they look at each other knowingly. 

But before Fred can defend himself further, you are back in the room, changed into fresh clothes from Ginny. You pull the jumper down more, covering your midriff as you sit back down on the floor in front of the fire with Ginny, you and her making light conversation. And the while, Fred steals little glances here and there. 

“So, you didn’t go to Hogwarts, but you learned under your father?” Ginny asks as you nod happily.

There was a part of you that felt like you really missed out on an experience. Not attending Hogwarts was a choice that your parents made without your input and you wished every day that you had spoken up and told them that you wanted to go. But instead, they argued that learning directly under your father would be a better education and whatever you didn’t learn, you could easily pick up with some help from your father, your mother, or any of their friends in the ministry. Other than that, you had a relatively happy childhood, working with magical creatures daily, running around the different departments with other children you could find. Life was good, until trouble started to appear in spurts.

You reply, “Yeah. When he steps down from his position, I’ll be there to take it over. It’s what I’ve been working towards my whole life.” When you spoke the sentence, it stung. It wasn’t like you had a choice. Your future was set out for you since the day you were born. 

Ginny smiles, “That’s really cool though. You don’t need to work about OWLs or NEWTs or any exams. Sounds pretty sweet.” You give her a weak laugh. Pretty sweet. 

Molly comes back in the room, a small cup of tea in her hands. “Black tea, cream, no sugar,” she coos. “Percy told me how you take it,” she winks as you smile and thank her graciously. “I’m glad to see that you’re in warm clothes now. For tonight, and I hope you don’t mind, you’ll spend the night in Fred and George’s room. George will spend the night in Ron’s room and Fred will sleep on the couch down here, so you’ll have some privacy,” Molly speaks with a smile.

You look around the room, “Oh! I can take the couch! Really! I don’t want to kick anyone out of their room!” you tell the group as they all give you small smiles.

“Nonsense!” Molly smiles. “A guest deserves to sleep on a proper bed. Besides this is just for tonight. Tomorrow morning, Arthur and Percy will get the extra mattress from the attic and bring it down into Ginny’s room.” You shake your head and profusely thank the twins for giving up their room and the both of them just smile while Fred drops his left eye into a wink, making your heart flutter in your chest. “You can stay here as long as you need, dear. We can find someone to come in and fix your car.”

But before you can protest, Fred speaks up, “Actually, no need to call someone, Mum. George and I fixed the flying Ford Anglia, I’m sure we can fix some muggle car.”

“What the bloody hell are you on about, we ne-”

Fred nudges George in the stomach, making him double over with an oof, as Fred smiles and continues, “We’ll have it repaired in no time.”

You look over at Fred with curious eyes and a small smile. There was something about him that just was so magnetic. His brown eyes, tufts of messy red hair, loose t-shirt that clung onto his arm muscles that flexed so gently underneath the green fabric. Just his smile was enough to have you captivated for eons. “Thanks,” you simply state with a smile and he nods. “Um,” you break away from his gaze. “I’ll, uh, get ready for bed then, I guess. It’s quite late.”

You rise from the floor and scurry up the stares, feeling eyes on you, and for some reason, you hoped that Fred was one of them.

-------

It was two in the morning and the whole house was dead asleep. Except for you. Each time you closed your eyes, you felt the feelings and panic from hours before. Your heart thumped in your chest as you toss and turned in your sleep, an unsettled feeling wrestling in your stomach. 

Giving up, you sit straight up and huff, hearing the clock tick insistently on the wall, mocking you. You roll your eyes and swing your legs over the unfamiliar bed and rub your face. Standing up from the bed, you start to slug over to the door and down the stairs, trying to see if maybe a change of scenery would do you some good. 

When you walk down the stairs, you are careful to be quiet, not to wake up Fred. But lucky for you, he was wide awake, sitting on the floor in front of the fire place that was mere glowing embers. Fred turns and looks at you, a small smile dancing on his lips when he sees you. “Didn’t think you would be up,” you smile at him before taking a seat next to him on the floor, him scooting over so you could enjoy the residual warmth from the fire. 

Fred shrugs, “Couch isn’t super comfortable. The springs are digging into my back.”

You give him a sorry smile. “I’m sorry that I took your room for the night. I told you that I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. Not too late to take me up on my offer...” you give him a joking nudge, earning a light chuckle from one half of the Weasley twins.

“Very kind of you, but you take the room. I don’t mind sharing. Especially if it’s with a pretty girl,” he flirts as you feet heat rise to your cheeks, turning away from him so he couldn’t see your small smile. But Fred knows and that’s only earned him a proud feeling in his chest. “So,” he starts. “You’re friends with my dork brother, eh?” 

You lightly laugh, “He’s not a dork. Percy has been a really great friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him.” Fred gives you a small smile. “Truly. He’s really been my best mate.”

Fred wiggles his brows, teasing you. “Best mates, eh?” He bumps his shoulder into you as you giggle and roll your eyes. 

“Percy and I are just friends, come on,” you give him a playful shove. Fred smiles and shakes his head as you feel suddenly confident, a flirtatious comment falling off of your lips. “If we were, do you think I’d be down here talking to his cute brother?”

The comment makes Fred look at you, at first with wide eyes which eventually fades into a little smirk with ruby red cheeks. He chuckles, “Touché.” 

You and Fred sit next to the fire and continue to make conversation, talking about you, your life back home, and Fred and the joke shoppe. The more you talk to him the more you realize how easily conversation flowed between the two of you. Talking with Fred was like breathing; you didn’t need to think about it, it just happened so effortlessly. He made you laugh until you clutched your sides, doubled over in pain, which made his heart swell. Your laugh sounding like a beautiful melody of a familiar tune, something he could never grow tired of hearing.

“The shoppe really is a dream come true,” Fred smiles to himself as he watches the fire dwindle down. “It’s what George and I have always wanted our whole lives.” Watching Fred talk about the joke shoppe and seeing all the joy and passion behind his eyes was like watching fireworks. Captivating. The way he spoke about running his own business with his best mate and brother made a smile creep its way onto your face. “I can only imagine it’s the same way you feel about taking over your father’s position,” Fred looks to you with a hopeful smile as you gulp thickly.

You shrug, “Yeah. You can say that.” You wished you sounded more enthusiastic, but truth of the matter was you had no passion behind what you did. Sure, growing up you dreamed of taking over your father’s position and becoming head of the department. But as you grew up, you took up other interests and hobbies that outgrew your love of magical creatures. 

Fred instantly noticed your change in tone and twisted his eyebrows together. “That’s not a very convincing answer,” he laughs as you lightly chuckle. “You don’t want to take over his position?”

With a sigh, you rub your hands over your face. “I do, but...I don’t?” you look at him, wrapping your arms around your knees, bringing them close to your chest. You turn towards Fred and start, “I mean, my whole future was planned out for me when I was born. First born takes over the position. I’m first born so everything has been etched in stone for me. I love my family and what they do and I’ve always been passionate about it...but somethings missing, you know? As I grew up, I took different interests and now...I don’t know if I want to be in that position. I don’t want to be a part of the ministry anymore.” The confession was a lot to dump onto Fred, but for some reason you felt like he would understand. That he would listen to you. “I’m sorry that was a lot to unload.”

“Don’t apologize,” Fred smiles at you, placing a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it gently, making your heart race at the simple touch. Fred turns to face you, knees brushing against each other as you nibble on the inside of your cheek. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you want to do with your life?”

A small smile appears on your face. “I want to own a book shoppe. I know it sounds dorky, but I want to own my own book store with every book in the world. Fantasy, mythology, history, science, maths, everything under the sun. I want people to come in and read and sit and learn new things,” you light up at the thought of having a place to call your own. “I regret every day not getting the ‘real school’ experience, but in a weird way, I think owning a book store would make up for it?” you lightly laugh as Fred stares at you with a dreamy smile on his face.

The way you spoke about books and people and learning was unlike anything he had ever seen. You completely lit up like a Christmas tree and Fred was smitten. “You want to know my opinion?” Fred asks as you nod. “I think...you should leave the ministry and open up your own bookstore,” he tells you as you lightly laugh. “I’m serious. You don’t have half the passion for the ministry like you do for the bookstore. This is your dream. You should follow it.”

“Okay, but opening a bookstore requires money and investors and actually getting books. I don’t have nearly enough,” you sigh as a mischievous smile appears on Fred’s face. “Uh oh. I don’t like that smile.”

Fred laughs, “It’s a good smile, don’t worry. What if...George and I were your first investors. I mean, the joke shoppe is booming and we have the money to invest in a small business.”

You start shaking your head. He was being overly generous for someone you just met today. “Oh, Fred, I couldn’t ask you to do that. That’s you and George’s money and-”

“And I want to use it where I see fit. And I think your business proposal is very promising,” Fred tells you with a small smirk as you sigh, heart fluttering at the way his face is illuminated by the embers of the fire place. “Sleep on it. I don’t need an answer right now. But you should think about it, (Y/N).”

You smile softly, playing with the cuffs of Ginny’s maroon jumper, heart thumping your chest. Slowly, you look up at Fred and his eyes are glued on yours, a soft smile on his pink lips. The two of you don’t say a word, just sat there, looking at one another, taking each other in as the fire crackles, the faint smell of burnt wood filling your senses. In this moment, Fred looked like someone you had known your whole life. Like you were supposed to be here, looking at him right now. You can feel his knee brush against you again, making the hairs on your arms stand up, goosebumps erupting along your skin as you inhale sharply. 

Clearing your throat, you start to stand up. “I should probably get back to bed,” you interrupt the moment as Fred follows suit.

“Yeah, uh, you’re right. I gotta get up early anyway to start fixing your car,” Fred scratches the back of his neck as you make your way back to the stairs. “Goodnight, (Y/N). Sweet dreams.”

You stop on the third step and smile shyly at Fred. “Goodnight, Fred. Sweet dreams,” you repeat before walking up the stairs, a bright grin etched on your face.

----------

Two days have past since you arrived at the Weasleys. Morning comes quickly, day light streaming in through the window as you wake with a large stretch. You rub your eyes and look at the clock on the wall, the hands pointing to 10:13am. You had slept in later than expected, but maybe that’s what you needed. Slowly, you peel yourself from the bed and make your way downstairs, the hustle and bustle of the Weasley house in full swing. Ginny, Percy, and Ron are at the table, eating toast and eggs. “Look who decided to join the land of the living,” Percy teases as you smile with a groggy hey. “You hungry? Mum made enough eggs and toast to feed every fifth year at Hogwarts,” Percy laughs as you take a seat next to him, accepting a full plate of eggs, buttered toast, and a cup of tea the way you like it.

“Thank you, Molly,” you smile at the woman who places dirty dishes and pans in the sink as the magically begin to wash themselves.

She sends you a sweet smile and a wink, “Don’t mention it, dearest. Eat up. If you’re still hungry, there’s plenty more in the fridge.” 

As you start to eat, Ginny and Ron start to talk about the plans for the day, talking of maybe playing a quidditch match in the yard, Ginny entertains the idea of taking a trip to Diagon Alley, Ron going back and forth if he should visit Hermione or not. Percy just states he’ll be doing work from his room as you roll your eyes, nudging him lightly at how studious he was. You scan the table and the living room to see no Fred or George. They couldn’t be sleeping still, Fred wasn’t on the couch and Ron’s room was empty when you passed it. “Where are the twins?” you ask Percy as you bite into your toast.

“Outside fixing your car. Fred’s been working on it since Mum woke up. And she gets up early,” Percy emphasizes as you laugh. “George should be out there too or he’s in the shed looking for spare parts,” Percy sips his black coffee.

You nod and finish munching on your toast and eggs before rising from the table, placing your dish in the sink, and making your way outside to see what was going on. 

As you step outside, the warm sun engulfs you as you realize just how hot it was. Not the weather for Ginny’s heavy jumper that you slept in. But before you can complain about the heat, your eyes stumble on a sight that made you feel weak in the knees. 

You gulp thickly as you mouth run dry as the desert. Fred is leaning over the hood of your car, arms flexed as he tightens knobs on the engine, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Surrendering to the August heat, Fred pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his toned back muscles that glisten with summer sweat. He runs his grease covered hands through his hair, sweeping it back, his biceps flexing before he returns to his position covering over the car, grunting as he uses his strength to tighten and fix the bolts. His pants hang low on his waist as the tops of his boxers peak out from the material, making you inhale deeply. It felt so wrong to look at him, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the toned man in front of you. 

Finally snapping yourself out of your trance, you clear your throat, making your presence known. Fred turns towards you and a smile immediately forms on his lips. “Working hard or hardly working,” you tease him as you walk towards the car, leaning against him as Fred chuckles.

“Well, I’ve been up since six in the morning trying to fix this thing with no avail. So maybe the latter is more fitting,” he jokes as you smile. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Just fine,” you shrug before saying, “Um, thanks for staying up and talking with me for a bit the other night. It was nice.”

Fred smiles and folds his arms across his chest, your eyes darting down quickly to watch how his strong arms flexed over his toned chest, making you stomach do a flip. “Yeah, of course. You make great company,” he winks at you as you can’t help but giggle at his flirtatious remark. “Anyway, have you thought about my proposal?” he ask, raising his eyebrows and leaning over the hood of the car, closer to you as your heart stops at how close he was to you in this moment, mind drawing blank as your eyes scan over his naked top half. Fred notices your stare and he smirks, “Cat got your tongue, darling?” he coos.

But before you can speak, a voice interrupts, “Fred, would you quite harassing the guest?” You turn around to see George making his way back with a tool box and a wrench that he tosses to Fred who catches it with ease. “Morning, (Y/N),” George beams as you smile at him. “If my brother will stop flirting with you, hopefully we’ll get the car fixed by tonight.”

You chuckle as Fred rolls his eyes, continuing to work on the engine as you pry yourself from the car. “I appreciate it a lot. Taking the time out of your day to fix the car,” you tell the twins as they both smile and say it was no problem. “I’ll, uh, I’ll catch up with you two later,” you walk backwards back to the house before leaving the twins alone to fix the car as a smile lingers on your lips.

Fred watches you walk away, disappearing back into the house, his mind fixating on the way you looked in that jumper and sleep shorts, going to places where he shouldn’t really be thinking about. George punches Fred’s arm and snaps him out of his daydream. “Are you kidding, mate?” George laughs. “Come on.”

Fred groans, “I can’t stop thinking about her, George.” George rolls his eyes and shoves Fred out of the way, taking a look at the engine of the car. “We talked the other night for hours. She’s smart, and she’s funny, and bloody hell, she’s fucking gorgeous,” Fred huffs, running his fingers through his hair at the thought of you. He had just met you two days ago and you were already the first and last thing on Fred’s mind when he woke up and went to bed. “And I know there’s something there, mate. It’s just...awkward since we’re around everyone all the time,” Fred explains. “But I like her, George.”

George looks at his brother, giving him a look before realizing the sincerity behind his eyes and hopeful smile on his lips. George sighs and speaks, “Alright then. I’d say go for it, mate. If you think that there’s potential, what’s holding you back?” 

“Her life,” he breathes out as he leans against the car. “She works for the ministry. That’s where her life is, but she hates it. She told me that she wants to break away and move and open her own bookstore. (Y/N) wants a different life, but her obligations are holding her back,” Fred explains to George to tightens a bolt on the engine before looking up at his brother with a face that reads And? “I want to help her,” Fred speaks. “And not because I have a crush on her. Because she deserves it. After everything she’s been through, I want to help her live her dream,” he tells George who folds his arms over his chest. “Our dream came true and if we didn’t have help from Harry, who knows if and when our business would have taken off. The same can be said for (Y/N) and her dream.”

George goes back and forth as Fred anticipates a positive answer from his twin. With a sigh, George says, “Alright. Let’s do it. But under one condition!” Fred furrows his brows. “Don’t be doing this just because you fancy her. You really want to help her, right?” he clarifies.

Fred smiles gently, thinking about you and how happy you would be to receive the news that your dream is becoming a reality. “More than anything. She deserves it,” Fred speaks quietly as George smiles at his brother.

------

Night had rolled around just as quickly as the morning came and you were sat on the floor of Ginny’s room on the mattress as everyone got ready for bed. In your hands, a letter from Alyssa, that an owl had brought in just minutes ago. She was safe, thank Merlin, back in London, waiting for your arrival. But the thought of leaving the Weasleys now, when you were just getting to know everyone, made your chest feel tight with sadness. Getting to know your mate’s family was enjoyable, especially with this newfound connection with Fred. Leaving now would just screw things up. 

But you had duties to attend. The ministry, your family, Alyssa. You needed to get things back on track before staying here caused them to derail yet again. 

You hear footsteps coming from down the hall as you fold the parchment and tuck it in your waistband of your shorts as you rise from the mattress. Instead of Ginny appearing in the door way like you expected, it was a freshly showered Fred in his pajama bottoms and an old white t-shirt that was just thin enough so you could see the outlines of his toned torso. His lifts his hands up so he can hang on the door frame, his eyes tracing you up and down quickly. You smile gently, “You fix my car, Weasley?”

He chuckles, “Come take a look for yourself.”

The two of you start down the stairs, leaving the rest of the Weasley family behind as you made your way outside. The summer night is mild, the sounds of crickets fill the air, and the breeze smells of grass and dew. Fred runs over to your car that’s a few feet away from the back of the house and jumps into the driver’s seat, putting the key in the ignition, and the engine roars. You smile and clap your hands, a job well done. Fred hops back out as you sit yourself on the hood of the car, facing him. “Nicely done,” you compliment him as he pretends to tip his hat to you. “So, how long did it take you two to realize that there was a spell for fixing the car engine?” you reveal as Fred’s eyes widen.

“You knew this whole time and yet you made us work in the bloody heat?!” he exclaims with a small smile on your face as you laugh out loud, throwing your head back and clutch your sides. “You’re a monster!” he teases, slightly shoving your arm.

You laugh, “Come on, you had to admit it was funny. Ron starting placing bets on who would figure it out first. Molly even joined in at one point.” Fred scoffs and rolls his eyes. “But still...a job well done. Thank you. I’ll have to think of a way to repay you.”

Fred gives you a look and speaks, “I have a few things in mind...” Your heart starts beating quicker as your mouth becomes dry as Fred moves to stand in between your legs, hands on either side of you on the car. “First of them being,” he starts, “Move to London and start your own business.”

Part of you is disappointed with the request, wanting something else from the fire haired boy, but you sigh, “Fred, you know I ca-”

“George and I spoke this morning. We both want to help you get you on your feet, so we’re investing in your bookstore,” he gushes as you look at him with wide eyes. “There is an available building across the street from the joke shoppe. With your consent, we’ll put the down payment on it tomorrow and the shoppe is all yours. When business is booming, you can pay us back. But until then, the store is all yours. Ready to go when you are,” Fred tells you.

You are completely overwhelmed with the news and can’t wrap your mind around why they were doing this. Why you? You were speechless. “Fred, I-” you stutter. “I don’t know what to say...thank you...this is...I don’t know how to describe it, but I don’t kn-”

“You don’t have to thank me or George. We wanted to do this. Seeing you talk about how passionate you were made me want to help you out. It reminded me of when George and I were dreaming of starting a business. We wanted to help someone who we saw potential in. Or I saw potential in,” Fred tells you, scratching his neck, nervously looking down as your heart swelled. “And since you’re across the street from the shoppe, that means we can see each other more often,” he says. “If you want that is. It’s also a good way for Percy to come see you too if you prefer that over seeing me or George, you know. I don’t want to assume anything,” he rambles as you giggle.

Fred looks into your eyes as you gently smile at him. The moon illuminated his face in the darkness, softening his sharp features as he sighed, looking at you. In this light, you were close to perfection. Fred wanted to melt on the floor when you looked at him with those eyes. Eyes that held so much beauty and adoration. 

It wasn’t until his forehead gently touched yours that you realized you were moving in closer. Fred gently brushed his nose against yours, making you lightly laugh before he slowly connected your lips into a gentle kiss. When his lips touched yours, it set your body on fire. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips were soft and sweet against yours, moving gently, pushing his tongue past your parted lips, kissing you deeply. The kiss made you feel lightheaded and foggy, losing your senses, but at the same time, all of your senses felt heightened in the moment. Fred was addictive, you wanted more and more and more and that’s what made him dangerous. But you were too caught up in the feeling of his hands on your skin, lips pressing against him, soft moans falling from your lips into his mouth. 

As Fred wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands brush up against something tucked into your waistband of your shorts. His laces his brows together before plucking it from your waistband, breaking your kiss as you whine when he does so. “What’s this?” he asks, holding up the parchment, confused.

You sigh and take it from him, playing with the letter in your hands. “It’s a letter, from Alyssa...she told me she’s safe with her mum and sisters. She’s in London,” you tell him as he smiles, rubbing your leg, knowing that her safety was important to you. “She’s...waiting for me...to come back to the ministry so we can get back to work,” you tell him.

Fred just laughs, “Well, you’re gonna have to break the news to her. I’ll get Errol and you can send her a letter tonight, telling her not to wait up.” But before Fred can run inside and get you parchment and a quill, you grab his hand and stop him, giving him a sad look. His happy eyes turn into confusion which turn into realization. “You are going to quit the ministry, right?” he asks as you sadly look away from him and back down at the parchment in your hands, nervously fumbling with it. “(Y/N), you hate it there. You have to quit.”

“I have duties, Fred. To my family. To the ministry. To myself. I can’t just throw away everything I’ve been working towards for years just for a silly dream!” you exclaim to him as he frustratedly runs his hands through his hair.

He scoffs, “A silly dream that I believe in. That George believes in. That you, at one point, believed in! I can help you! I’ll...I’ll...I’ll go down to the ministry with you tomorrow and help you face your father and Alyssa and all of them. We can move you out and into a flat and you can start living the life you wanted. Don’t you want that?” he throws his hands in the air defeated.

The whole situation had you torn up. Fred was offering you the chance of a lifetime. Your dream. Everything you desired Fred wanted to give to you with no strings attached. He just wanted to see you happy, doing the thing you loved. But on the other hand, you had an obligation to your family and the ministry. Leaving them would get you into some deep shit that would be too hard to recover from or climb out of. The last thing you wanted to do was pull Fred down with you. 

You retort, “Just because I want it doesn’t mean it’s right for me, Fred!” Fred stands there in silence, shaking his head. “People are depending on me to assume this position after my father steps down. If I let them down, the whole ministry will have a vendetta against me. Do you realize what that means for me? It means I’ll lose everything. My dreams. The shoppe. My family....you...” you trail off at that last bit, but Fred catches it and looks at you with sad eyes. “Fred, I like you. I really do, but I can’t put you in a position that will make life a living hell for you.”

Fred shakes his head, “I am ready to take on whatever it is if it means you are happy. If it means that there’s a chance for us.”

His words make your heart ache with how much he already cared and it had only been three days since you met. But something deep down told you that this was something to fight for. Something to fight like hell for. But you didn’t know if you were prepared for that fight. “Freddie...I can’t...” you whisper to him, holding his face in your hands, trying to reach his sensibilities. 

Fred gulps and stays quiet for a moment, but it feels like years. “Okay,” he simply states. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” The tone of his voice makes your heart break. “I, um, I should probably get back inside. We both should. It gets cold out here quite quickly.”

Peeling himself away from you, he starts back to the Burrow as you hop down from the hood of the car. “Fred,” you call out as he turns around. “I’m sorry.”

He looks back at you and shakes his head. “Me too.”

Fred continues to walk back into the house as you stand outside, in front of your car, letter in your hand, heart breaking in your chest. The decision you made was right, but why did it feel so wrong?

----------

“Percy, I can carry my own backpack to my car,” you laugh as you follow him down the stairs, Percy a few steps ahead of you.

Without looking back he speaks, “I insist. Now, go put something in your stomach. The drive back to London is long, so fill up.” You smile and shake your head as you walk into the kitchen as the rest of the Weasleys are sat around the table. You take a seat next to Ginny you passes you a plate full of pancakes as you graciously accept it. 

Everyone greets you with a small smile or a good morning, but Fred just looks up at you with sad eyes before going back to pushing food around his plate. But that didn’t stop you from glancing at him every now and again, wishing you could make him happier. The fact of the matter was that neither of you were happy with the decision that had to be made. Fred had offered you the world on a silver platter and yet you refused in fear of the consequences. You had only known him for two days and yet he was so ready to help you, to make you happy. How could he be so sure of something when you were so unsure of everything. 

But you push the thought aside and start to eat your breakfast. Ron starts conversation, “So, what’s the first thing you’re doing when you get back, (Y/N)?” he asks.

You think for a moment with a sigh. “There’ll probably a stack of work for me to sort through. I’ll tend to that first. And after that’s done...I don’t know. Probably try to get back in the routine of things, help my father out, tend to some department issues,” you speak plainly. The mundane nature of life back at home made your stomach twist as you thought of it in comparison to what life could be back in London in Diagon Alley with a bookstore to call your own...Fred right across the way...

Your thoughts are interrupted with a short chuckle from George. “Doesn’t sound like too much fun,” he tells you as you sigh with a small smile, figuring that Fred told him that you were taking him up on their offer of investment. 

“Is work supposed to be fun?” you ask, taking a bite off your fork.

Fred sarcastically laughs. “Yes, actually. George and I love what we do for a living. Work isn’t supposed to be a task, it should be something you love. Something you have a passion for. Something that makes you want to get out of bed and work towards. Otherwise, what’s your life then? Something so mundane and boring and when you’re dead you end up regretting what you did with it?” Fred blurts as George elbows him under the table. Fred stops, realizing that he may have gone too far. 

His words start to circle and dance around in your head, each one of them hitting you in the chest like a bullet. He was right. Why waste all of your time and effort into something you couldn’t care about? But it was too late. You were set out for the ministry and your family expected your arrival today. 

You finish eating breakfast and circle back to Ginny’s room, doing a once over to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. As you walked down the stairs of the Burrow, you felt sad to leave. Even the three days you spent here were the best days of the summer. Each day brought something new and exciting. Waking up each morning to see happy faces, Fred’s face...that was something you would cherish. 

One by one, you say your goodbyes and profusely thank the Weasleys for letting you stay for so long. Molly insists it was nothing and you can come visit whenever you liked. When you get to Fred, you don’t know whether to hug him or just move on. But he decides for you. “Can I walk you to your car actually?” he asks you as you nod gently. 

You give Percy a tight hug as you speak, “I’ll see you at work, Perc.”

But Percy turns to speak in your ear, “Will I?” You pull away from him sharply, giving him a look. Percy just smiles and speaks, “You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). A talented one at that. You are too big for the ministry.” You give him a gentle smile as he whispers, “Get the fuck out of there. For my sake.”

But before you can say anything, Fred and you are walking out of the Burrow and to your car. The walk to your car is awkward and quiet as you play with the hem of your t-shirt, kicking rocks as you walk down the dirt path. Fred digs his hands in his pockets as he walks to your car.

When you make it to your car, you turn to the tall ginger and sigh. The two of you just look at each other for a moment before Fred reaches out and brushes a piece of hair from your face as you lean into his touch. His touch makes your heart flutter as he smiles gently at you before pressing his lips to your forehead, kissing it sweetly. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

Fred gives your hand a squeeze before letting it go gently, walking away from you and back to the Burrow. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and walking him walk away is like someone stabbing you in the gut. This isn’t how things were supposed to end. He wasn’t supposed to let you go. But if he was gonna let you go, you weren’t going to let him go. 

“Fred!” you call out, making him halt in his tracks and turn back to you, shielding his eyes from the bright August sun. Your chest is heavy as you gather up all the confidence you have in your body. “I fucking hate the ministry. I hate my job. I don’t want to take over for my father. I don’t want to take this path that’s been made for me!” you exclaim, arms stretched. Fred just looks at you. “I want to open a bookstore. I want to help people learn. I want to wake up every morning, excited for the day. I want to wake up every morning and...see you,” you confess to him with a smile. “I want you, Fred.”

Fred just stands there for a moment before slowly walking back towards you and you inhale deeply, trying to keep your negative thoughts at bay. When he reaches you, he lets a small smile creep its way on his face. “I want you. I want to wake up every day and see your beautiful face staring back at me. I want to be there for you, to make you happy, to support you, to protect you. To make you feel safe and sound. I want you, (Y/N),” he confesses back as you smile widely.

The two of you waste no more time as his lips connect to yours, holding you in his arms. His lips are smiling into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. He pulls away with a goofy grin on his face as you chuckle, “My parents are going to kill me. The ministry is not gonna be happy about this.”

“Fuck the ministry,” he laughs as you join in. “I’m going to be by your side the whole time, helping you through it all. I swear. Through all the ups and downs.”

You hold his face in your hands as your heart swells in your chest. “I don’t like that I’m getting you into so much trouble,” you admit.

Fred rolls his eyes, “Oh, please, sweetheart. Trouble is my middle name.”

The two of you share another quick kiss before Fred grabs your hand and the two of you walk back to the Burrow, happily linked together. Fred calls out, “Ron! Go get the mattress again! We’ve got company!” 

[aghoulishtale]

One Day

Nathan Young x Reader // Misfits 

A little something for Nathan’s birthday. 

Word Count: 1.4k  Warnings: Swearing, smut (go easy on me I’m new to this)

[gif]

Disappointed, Nathan dragged himself up the stairs, a stolen bottle of vodka in hand. It was his own fault he was alone on his birthday, he hadn’t told anyone about it, and his mum believed him to be at a party, he didn’t want her to be worried. He collapsed onto the makeshift bed he had been calling home, swiftly flicking off the bottle lid and taking a swig. He didn’t notice the envelope until he lay back, the corner stabbing into the back of his neck. 

“What?” He mumbled, grabbing the yellow envelope, his name written neatly on the front followed by a small heart. Inside he found a generic birthday card, some joke about getting older, and a smaller envelope which he secretly hoped contained cash. The message inside the card read:

To Nathan,  Happy birthday, arsehole.  I’m taking a wild guess that at some point today you asked me for birthday sex, or a handjob at least, and knowing me as well as I do, I’m assuming I said no. It is your birthday though, so here’s a little treat, just for you. And I mean just YOU, okay? Have fun. Lots of Love  y/n xx

“Actually, I didn’t tell you it was my birthday, so I just asked for regular sex.” He muttered, smiling at the message. He didn’t know how she knew, but he wasn’t overly surprised, she seemed to know everything. He picked up the smaller envelope, sealed shut with nothing written on it, and very light. Opening it, he pulled out a set of pictures, the first of y/n in only a t-shirt, one he recognised to be his own, a teasing smirk on her face as she held the bottom of it, looking as though she was about to lift it up. In the second picture she had done exactly that, revealing the lace pants she was wearing underneath, holding the t-shirt just below her breasts. In the third, the t-shirt was gone, her long hair pulled forward, strategically covering her nipples, and Nathan’s heart raced as he began to imagine what the final picture might be, sucking in a breath as he saw it.  

“Oh, fuck.” He whispered, glancing around him as though he was worried he was about to be caught doing something wrong, even though he was alone, and had permission to be looking at this. In this picture, y/n’s hand was in her hair, pushing it back so that her breasts were on full display, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she stared seductively into the camera. She wasn’t completely naked, the lace pants still in place, but it was more than he had ever seen of her, and it was perfect. He grabbed his phone, sending a quick text. 

Thanks for the present, much appreciated.

You’re welcome. Enjoy ;)

“Oh, I will.” He said to himself, throwing the phone to the end of the mat and shuffling back so that he was leaning up against the wall, the last photo still clutched in his hand. He wasted no time undoing his jeans, sliding his hand into his underwear, the picture already having had an impact. He studied it as he started to pump his fist, taking in every inch of the picture, thinking about how he would probably explode if he ever saw her like that in person, squeezing his eyes shut as he imagined it. 

One day. He thought. One day, she’ll say yes. The sound of his phone ringing startled him, groaning as he dropped the picture to pick it up, planning to switch it off until he saw the name lighting up the screen. 

“y/n?” He answered.

---

You sat staring at your phone, nervously waiting for it to go off. Surely he would’ve found it by now; your little birthday surprise. You’d made the plan a few weeks ago, after seeing his birthday on his file when you had been raiding the office looking for something else. When you realised that it was soon, you stole one of his t-shirts and gotten a little tipsy to build up the courage to take the photos, and then dropped them off earlier that day as everyone was leaving the community centre. You hoped that he liked them, that you weren’t crossing a line.

It’s Nathan, he doesn’t have a line. You told yourself, but the longer you waited to hear from him, the more nervous you got. You jumped as the phone buzzed. Quickly grabbing it with a shaky hand, you sighed with relief as you read the message, replying before lying back on your bed, a smile on your face at the thought that he had liked it. Now you just had to pray that he would keep them to himself and not show them to anyone, but you had placed your trust in him, and there was no going back now. 

Too focused on the worry of receiving a negative reaction, you hadn’t given much thought to what he might actually be doing with them, but now that it was done, your mind began to wander. The idea that he might be using them to masturbate sent a wave of arousal through you. Of course that had been the intention, but until now you hadn’t given much thought to him actually doing it, and the image made you heat up. Pushing up your top, you rolled a nipple between your fingers, the same way you had done just before taking the photos. In a split second decision, you dialled his number, continuing to fondle your breasts as you waited for him to pick up. 

“y/n?” He answered. 

“Nathan.” You replied with a steady voice. “Happy birthday.” 

“Thanks. Especially for this little gift.” 

“Oh, you like them?” You inquired, despite already knowing the answer. 

“Oh, I like them.” 

“What are you going to do with them?” You asked him, his last answer giving you a surge of confidence. 

“I think you know what I’m going to do with them.” You let out a breathy laugh, dragging your nails down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your shorts and dragging them back up and over your breasts. 

“Have you already started?” There was silence on the other side, all you could hear was his heavy breathing. 

“Yes.” He admitted. 

“Good.” You whispered, feeling a little breathless yourself. “Carry on.” 

“Are you not going to hang up?” He asked, but you didn’t give him a response, finding that you didn’t want to. “You can listen if you want to.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” He repeated, and you could hear him shuffling, wondering what he was doing. “Is that all you’re going to do? Just listen?” Your hand was back to the waistband of your shorts, but this time you let it go further, pushing underneath. 

“No.” You told him, gasping as your fingers slid into you easily, Nathan letting out a quiet moan in response. You could just about hear the sound of his hand on his cock over his laboured breathing, and you sped up your fingers to match his pace, imagining that they were his as you listened to his small whimpers.

“y/n?” He asked, his breath hitching. 

“Yes?” 

“Talk to me.” Panicked, you stopped moving. You’d never done this before, you had no idea what to say. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.” Nathan encouraged, as though reading your mind. 

“You.” You admitted, moving your fingers once again. 

“Doing what?” 

“Fucking me.” You closed your eyes, picturing exactly what it was you’d want him doing. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’ve got me-oh-got me pinned against a wall.” 

“A wall?” 

“Yeah. Slamming into me.” 

“Hard?” You heard him speeding up, and you continued to match his pace, moaning as you felt your climax build. 

“Really hard.” 

“F-fuck.” You could tell Nathan was close, his pumps getting more sloppy as he let out a deep groan. The sound pushed you over the edge, your back arching as a wave of pleasure rolled through you, moaning his name as it hit. Nathan followed not long after, both of you silent as you came down, your chest heaving. 

“y/n?” Nathan broke the silence, and you hummed in response. “Will we ever actually shag properly?” 

“Maybe.” You answered. You weren’t really sure why you kept putting it off, but you were too tired to think too much about it right now. “One day.” 

“Okay.”

“Good night, Nathan.” 

“Night, y/n.” You hung up, gripping your phone in your fist and staring up at the ceiling. 

One day. You thought. Probably soon.

[yerrrabitch]

WKND

Your eyelashes softly brushed your cheeks as you woke up. Your dark eyes scanned across his room. His scent suffocated you and kissed every inch of your body. His body lay tangled with yours. Your head was tucked between his arm and chest as he took deep, calm breaths. You relished in the feeling of him. These were some of your favorite moments. 

When life could slow down for just a second and you could truly appreciate the man under you. 

Friday Night 7:34PM

You kicked off your heels beside your door and wiped your sweat on the back of your hand. Another hellish day at work. You hated working and wished that you could take his money. But, you didn’t feel comfortable taking away from him to please you. He hated seeing you like this. He loved pampering you in anyway he could. You chuckled at the thought of the argument your current state would cause. You worked as an assistant to a lawyer who made you work unbearable hours and didn’t give a damn about any of your personal needs. He was an asshole but, the position paid well and you rubbed elbows with major figures in the field you wanted to go into after college. 

You washed your hands and took your hair out of it’s bun. You couldn't wait to take this lace off for the weekend and let your hair out. Conforming to corporate America was another one of your least favorite things you did to get where you wanted to be. He didn’t agree with that. Well, he didn’t understand. He had worked through college growing his locs as a computer science major and now owns several businesses while only being two years out. He had established a name for himself; you had not. He offered many times to get an internship or position with one of his personal lawyers but, you wanted to get your connections and establish yourself by yourself. He had a love/hate relationship with your independence. It initially drew him to you when you first met. 

You needed to make a quick snack before showering and heading over to his place for the rest of the weekend. You broke away from the apples and peanut butter to turn on Ari Lennox and unwind in the shower after realizing it was far later than you realized and he was probably worried sick about you. You showered, put in a hair mask and began to shave while dancing to her rhythmic voice when a hand grabbed your waist. You shot right into farthest part of the shower and let out an animalistic scream.

You closed your eyes as tight as possible and waited on the assault. 

Giggles. 

From him.

You wiped a curl out of your face and stared up at him. He was hunched over laughing at you like he was supposed to show up unannounced and scare you half to death.

“Baby,” he started before falling into another fit of giggles, “I came to check on you and here you are, dancing like that when you could be dancing with me upstairs.”

“I need to explain alone time?” You sneered, you were agitated. Why would he do that? He could’ve waited for you to step out of the bathroom at least. You could have fallen and gotten seriously hurt and he was laughing like that was just so funny. The things you would do to keep that smile on his face though.

“You know I didn't mean to intrude on your alone time. I was just seeing where you were. It’s 8:30?” He said still looking at you. The way your curls and coils were pulled into lopsided twists around your face, your nose scrunched up in irritation and dragged your plump upper lip and high cheekbones along with it made his heart whine at the two foot distance between you two. “I’ll wait on the couch for you, then we can go up together?”

You nodded and moved back into the water to finish what you were doing while a soft smile graced your face as you thought of him. 

You crossed the hall and applied all the necessary body butters and creams then waddled out to see him. You rolled over the back of the couch and on to his side. 

“Hey.”

He smiles up at you and places a soft kiss on your cheek. He begins peppering them all across your face and across your neck. You begin laughing when he bites on to a ticklish part of your clavicle. You place your hands at the nape of his neck and pull his head back. 

“Did you cook?” You asked looking at his beard. You loved the way it felt when it grazed your thighs but, you hated the scruff he had began to grow during quarantine. He loved it though. Anything to differentiate him from his youth. 

“Don’t you wanna order in? There’s this new Thai place on the North side. I had some for lunch last week and almost nutted,” he said staring into your eyes while tracing the curve of your jaw, “we can eat that.”

You nodded and began to get off of him and grab your slippers to go to his place. He lived five floors above you. His penthouse was amazing. It had a great view, a private elevator and this kitchen that you loved to cook in. Sometimes after an exam you both would stay up trying new recipes to get your minds off the stress. You loved cooking with him and were a little disappointed at the loss of bonding time. You knew he'd make up for it though.

“We should order it soon, you know everything out here closes early as hell.” You replied as you locked your apartment up and grabbed his hand to walk to his elevator. While waiting for it to rise from the lobby you stared at both of your figures in the reflection. His massive body next to yours, you looked like a child. A curvy child, but still a child. The hand wrapped around the phone as he orders food looks bigger than your waist. His large torso compared to your average sized one. He towered at 6′6 and you lived at 5′8. You were taller than most but, he humbled you whenever you tried to act bigger than him. Your wide hips were the only thing on you bigger than him. He would argue that your head is bigger than anything in the room. 

You were busy comparing your body to his when he guided you into the shaft with a hand on your lower back. You thanked him and stepped inside. You felt his hand moving to cup just beneath your bottom. He gave two taps to your butt and opened his other arm, signaling you to jump on his waist. You rolled your eye but, still complied and let him carry you the rest of the way. The elevator dinged and he began to move. His breathe was warm against your cool scalp. And his body warm against yours. You loved him carrying you almost as much as he did. He loved taking care of you and anyway that you would allow him to gave him joy. 

You had decorated the entrance of his penthouse. Initially it had been bare but, you added a mirror, a welcome mat and a tall plant that required almost no care so he couldn’t kill it by forgetting it. But, he would never let anything you gave him die. He walked up the stairs and into his bedroom. He turned around and sat down on the bed with you still attached to him and then laid back. You rolled over and began to remove the pillows from the bed. When you first met him he only used one pillow and now he can’t sleep with out at least three on the bed or you. You patted the spot next to you and almost squealed when he settled in next to you. You loved cuddling. He loved it too, only with you though. In previous relationships, it’d irritate him and make him overheat but, with your cooler body temperature and lovable personality he couldn’t resist. You rubbed up and down his side while he rubbed circles on your butt. You pushed your lips up at your nose. His eyes flashed to them and he immediately captured them with his own. He had a special way of kissing you. It never took your breath away. It was like it was your breath. You could kiss him for hours and only need to stop to fulfill bodily functions. Your lips fit perfectly together. You felt his bottom row gently dig into your top lip as his hand drifted from your ass to your right breast. His hot tongue slips into your mouth and you attach on to it and begin sucking it. His mouth retracts slightly as he smiles at you. Clearly, he doesn’t like you having too much control as he takes your nipple in his hand and twists it. You gasp and he takes that as his chance to do what he wants with you. He keeps kissing you and pulls away to begin kissing down your neck. You feel your lower belly getting warm and you try to pull his hand from your breast and place it in between your thighs. You hadn't had your fill all week and you wanted him right now. He snatches his hand away from you and doesn’t even look up at you.

“I’m taking my time tonight, so you just gone have to wait my love.” He said in between open mouthed kisses on your chest. You loved when he showered you with affection like this but, there was a time and place for everything and this was neither. You wanted to fill him shoot into the depths of you then carry you into the bathtub so you both could scrub the sins away then slide back into bed and go to sleep. You were tired and you’d rather use your vibrator and come back after you came at least once.

“Baby, I’ve been waiting all week.” You whispered looking down at him.

“Who’s fault is that?” He asked, finally reaching your nipples. “Not mine, if I could’ve had you every night I would have. I would’ve had you in the morning too. Before work. At lunch. Before dinner. For dessert. But, you had to work right mamas?” He plopped your nipple in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around your ring and lightly nibbling on the sensitive flesh in-between the metal. You were enjoying his assault on his body and accidentally ignored his question.

He bit down. Hard.

“I asked you a question didn’t I?” He said staring up at you. You nodded eagerly. 

“Words.” He said with a lot more bass in his voice. 

“Yes.” He smiled up at you. You were wet and you knew that he wasn’t going to let you come once tonight after that. He’d just edge you for the rest of the night and hopefully let you cum tomorrow. He moved to the next nipple and used his fingers to give the other nipple to attention she deserved. 

He loved playing with the fattier parts of your body. One day in the earlier days of your relationship you had told him about your insecurities and he made it his duty to show extra affection to them whenever possible. He moved down to your belly and began kissing all around it and sucking your flesh in between. He pulls back up to you and places a gentle kiss on your lips and smiles.

“I love you.”

He pulls your shirt back down and pulls your body tightly against him. You feel him throbbing against your thigh as you sit on his lap. He grabbed your left foot and began to massage the heels of your feet, slowly working up to your toes and moving back down methodically. You wanted to enjoy pleasing him and vice versa but, you knew tonight was really going to be affection rather than sex. You craved an orgasm but you also needed intimacy. You loved how he knew where to find a balance in your needs and desire them. 

Saturday Morning 9:50AM

The Thai place was amazing. You could see yourself sneaking there during lunch breaks for the dishes. You both had finished off two bottles of wine and sat snuggled up on the couch watching Living Single re runs. He laid on your chest between your thighs as you both fought sleep. He smelled of deep amber and vanilla. A cologne that you mentioned loving years ago and he made a point to wear around you. 

You looked at the man next to you. You gently disconnected yourself from him and crawl beneath the sheets. You pull his member from his boxers and spit on it. You feel his body shift, he’s waking up. You lick up the under side of the shaft and attach your lips to the top. You extend your tongue outside of your lips and begin pulling in and out of your mouth. A deep chuckle breaks your concentration. 

“You love this dick don’t you?” He mused. You nodded “Couldn’t wait for me to wake up?”

You continued your assault by forcing the entirety of his length into your throat. You always struggled through this part but you never stopped trying. You gagged on it and kept pushing. You were confident that you wouldn’t vomit but you needed to taste his nut. You repeated the process, sucking the tip then taking it all down your throat. You loved the feeling of his breath becoming quicker and his hand pulling your bonnet off and grasping your twists in both of his hands. His hips kept bucking up at you until you felt warm ropes begin to paint your throat. You loved this taste. The feeling of his balls constricting on your cheeks. The way his happy trail tickled your nose. The way his thighs felt so strong against your finger tips. His firm grip on your hair. It all made you want him more. You kept sucking after he had finished until his body began to twitch again. It was only right to overstimulate him how he had done you so many times before. 

You lifted off of him and hurried to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You knew once he gained his strength back he would return the favor a few times over. He padded in behind you and began running the water in the bathtub. You smiled softly and went to the kitchen. You cut up apples, oranges and put grapes into a bowl and met him in the bathroom. He had grabbed towels and began to strip. Staring at your gown, he points and the tub. You comply and bring the bowl with you.

“Eat mama.” He commands and begins kissing up and down your neck. His hands go beneath the water and find your folds. He grazes across your clit and down to your opening. His right hand rises to your breast and he palms it lightly. He grasps your clit between two fingers and rolls it between them. Your breath hitches. 

“Please, Erik.” You breathe. You feel him smile behind you.

“Please, what baby?”

“Please fuck me.”

His laugh shakes your chest as he puts a singular finger inside of you. He knew that he needed to work you up to his size. After a week away from him, you always shrunk to a coin slot. He curved his hand around to place one hand on your clit while still fingering you. You move the bowl to the ridge of the tub as you feel yourself getting closer to a climax. He adds another finger in. Initially it is uncomfortable but as he keeps rubbing your clit your loosen up around him. You pant as you feel your end close to you. He abruptly pulls his fingers out of you and turns the shower on behind both of you. He pulls you up carefully after moving the bowl to the floor near the tub. He lifts you up by your waist and slowly guides your onto his dick. He stretches you immediately and you feel like you might split open. It hurt but still felt so good. 

After waiting for you to nod at him, he began pumping in and out of you. Slowly at first then he picked up speed. He backed you into the wall and moved one of his arms from around you on to your clit and began rubbing. The hot coil in your belly began to tighten and you knew your orgasm was coming quickly. He looked so focused on getting your nut, he was barely worried about his. You begin coating him in a thick, white cream as your body is almost to your peak. Your moans begin to fill the bathroom as he hit your g spot. You finished and you felt yourself squirting on him. He loved that. He loved drinking it more than watching it though. 

He immediately followed behind you and filled you up with his cum. The warm water hit both of your side as your legs dropped and he laid his forehead against yours. He lightly kissed you then pulled out of you. You felt cold now without him inside of you. He reached for your body wash and you reached for his. Every time you had shower sex, you both would wash each others body’s. 

Regardless of all the shit you go through during the week. This makes it worth it. Orgasms before noon and endless support and love from a man you love. 

[achliegh]

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 12:

Jesus, Take the Wheel

It was 11 o’clock in the afternoon when Remus and Sirius got home, Reg was sitting on the couch under a blanket like the vampire he was on his laptop.

“Reg! We’re home! I’m glad the house is still standing!” Sirius goes over to the blanket before Reg can pull it off and hugs him super tight so the blanket makes him look like a little child dressed as a ghost. Remus smiles at them, walking past to set his bag by the basement stairs where they like to keep off their hockey stuff.

“Get off me! I can’t breathe!” Sirius lets go and Reg punches him in the shoulder after he slams his laptop closed and takes the blanket off. “Jerk.”

“Hey, you cut your hair.” Sirius grabs his baby brother's face and makes him turn his head to one side and then the other examining his hair. It looked really good on him, Sirius has always wanted to do something like this with his hair but always chickens out because of what the media will say. “It looks really nice, I’m a little jealous. I have always wanted to have my hair like that.” He ruffles Reg’s hair and gives him a sloppy kiss on the forehead like he knows Reg, acts like he hates, loves. “I am going to shower, I smell like bus, I’ll be back!” He passes Remus on his way upstairs and gives him a peck.

“I take it you won?” Reg stands up and follows Remus into the kitchen, Remus looks in the sink to see all the dirty dishes the trio had left because they didn’t want to do it. Reg was just kinda awkwardly floating around Remus as he worked on the dishes and Re had an idea that something was up.

“Okay, something is bothering you.” Remus turns around and leans on the counter to find Reg just messing with a fork left on the counter, spinning it on a prong. “Spit it out.”

“I just- I don’t know, I have kinda been… looking into some stuff that maybe I’m not just-” Remus has lived with Reg long enough to be able to pick up on his panicking. So he watches as Reg balances from one foot to the other, squeezing his hands into fists and opening them again.

“Hey, hey, Reg it’s okay.” Remus walks over to him and smiles, he doesn’t touch him but he lets him know he is there for him by looking him in the eyes for a moment and smiling. “You can tell me anything, I will be there for you no matter what.”

“I don’t think I’m… Maybe I’m not cis?”

“Here.” Finn dumps his bag onto Logan as he pulls out his keys to open the apartment. “Do you think Leo is waiting for us like a little puppy?”

“No.” Logan rolls his eyes and shifts the bag on his shoulder. “But we should definitely get a dog.” The door opens and all the lights are off, Leo’s boots are by the welcome mat so that means he is home. The tv is still on the NHL station playing highlights from what looks to be the Penguins and the Knights.

Walking over to the couch Finn smiles at what he sees, Leo wrapped up in a blanket with his hood up and his arm over the edge of the couch. His phone is on the ground below his hand, Finn picks it up and places it on the coffee table as Logan turns the tv off. They already dropped his stuff off at Dumo’s and will be staying the night but going back tomorrow morning. Finn reaches out and runs the back of his pointer finger over Leo’s soft face.

Leo might be a manly-man but he still can’t grow facial hair properly.

Finn moved his hand to push the hood down from Leo’s head and kiss his forehead, expecting to feel his soft hair but instead he felt prickles. He jolts his hand back from the shock and puts it over his mouth as he silently freaks out over the short hair. He waves his hand behind him until he grabs Logan's arm from where he was texting his parents that he got home safe and yanks him down so he lands on his ass next to where Finn is squatting.

“He has no hair!” Finn whispers-yells into Logan's ear. Logan spins around on his now sore tailbone and looks at Leo’s uncovered head. “Oh my god why does it look good!” Logan leans forward and notices a tattoo they have never seen before.

“Is that a strawberry? He has a strawberry tattoo.” Logan lighty pets over the inked fruit and smiles. “Aww how soft of him.” They both get up. “ We should let him sleep, nothing we ever do is too loud to wake him up. He SLeeps like a brick.” Logan takes Finn's hand as they grab the bag and start to unpack most of it.

Leo sleeps for a good hour before his body tells him to get up. Slowly sitting up he notices the tv is off and hears chattering in the kitchen. Standing up as quick as he can and slipping on his blanket a little he stumbles over to his boys and engulfs Finn in a hug. Surprising him.

“Good morning sleeping beauty.” Finn hugs him back.

“Let me in!” Logan scurries over to them and Leo opens his arms to hug both his boys. He picks them up a little and squeezes them, causing Logan to laugh and Finn to suffocate.

“Leo- I can't breathe.” Finn smiles but also can’t breathe. Leo lets them down and gives them both welcome home kisses. “Your hair looks great by the way, so short it shows off your face.” Finn ruffles his hair and accidentally bumps Leo's thigh.

“Ouch, that hurt a little.” Leo backs away a bit and puts a hand on his thigh. The boys looked at each other quizzically, causing Leo to pull up the leg of his shorts to show them his new tattoo.

“Oh my god! What is that!” Logan and Finn both bend down to get a better look at the blob of ink under the clear film. “Okay… for real what is it? Your ink sac is in the way….”

“Ew don’t call it that.” Leo smiles and looks down at the said blob. “It’s a pinup, she is actually based off that picture of Logan in your jersey, she has a mix of y’alls features and is also the only color tattoo I have… because she is so special.” Leo has the sappiest look on his face as he describes her. “You like?”

“I love… we should name her! I vote Matilda!” Logan smiles proud of the name he thought of.

“No, we need a better name! I like Veronica.” FInn and Logan continue to argue over names as Leo feeds his aggressive fish that Clay graciously named ‘Finlo… get it because Finn and Logan. Because it's red like Finn and mean like Logan!’ The name stuck somehow.

“Guys, guys. She can have two different names.” Leo smiles at them and leans against the counter. Watching them narrow their eyes at each other until one of them looks away.

“Fine! But can we have sex now? You know what your tattoos do to me, and now that you have one that has something to do to me.” Finn sighs and walks towards Leo who spins them around with a hand on either side of Finn. “whoa.”

“Sure we can, but we can’t fuck up her face… so I want to watch you and Lo.”

When Thomas walks in the door he is met with the cutest sight. Clay is asleep on Nolles chest on the couch with a back of frozen peas on his ass. Walking in and giving Noelle a kiss, he sits down next to them on the ground, reaching to grab Clay’s hand that is squished under him. He gets Clay’s hand and kisses the back of it.

“How long has he been asleep?”

“He was just pacing around the room and running to the window like a dog every time one of the neighbors slammed their car doors. It was really cute, but then I could tell his back and booty were hurting so I made him lay down and ice. He was not happy with me.” Noelle smiles and pets his hair back as Thomas leans in for another kiss, which she happily accepts.

“We need to sit down and talk with him about our sexlife, he definitely wasn’t what I expected in bed. A lot less ‘I want to be in control’ than I thought. He was very submissive and basically let me do what I wanted to him.” They both look down at the sleeping man. “He really really liked being fucked though. He said he has only been fucked once before, I think, but if he loved it that much then why has he never done it again?” Noelle furrows her brows in a way that means she is looking deep into the meaning of something.

“We just need to talk with him, I don’t think he would ever keep a secret from us unless it's really bad. I trust him, he obviously trusts us enough to A) Let you fuck him and B) Let us call while it is happening.” Noelle nods after a moment and sighs.

“We should wake him up, I want to use those peas for dinner tonight.”

“I’ll do it, he will probably jump on me.” Thomas smiles and scoots down until he is face to face with Clay, nudging him with his hand for a bit as he watches as those big puppy dog eyes open. They blink a few times and then finally focus on Thomas. “Hi.” The smile on Clay’s face blooms happiness in Thomas’ chest and before he knows it, Clay is off of Noelle and into his arms.

“Mm missed you.” Clay mumbles into Thomas’ neck and breathes him in. He smells like his cologne and a hint of sweat. Clay loves it. He pulls away a little as Noelle kisses both their foreheads and walks to the kitchen with the bag of peas in hand. Looking back to Thomas, Clay gets comfy by sitting between Thomas’ legs and hooking his ankles behind his back. His arms around his neck, just pressing their foreheads together as Clay’s still sleepy eyelids close.

“You’re so warm.” Thomas pulls away to cup Clay's face and smiles when Clay leans into one of his hands, keeping his eyes closed. His naturally curled lashes rest on his smooth cheeks. “You’re so beautiful.” Clay’s eyes open and he turns slightly red.

“No one has ever called me beautiful before…”

“You are, you are so beautiful.” Clay is looking at Thomas with a mix of millions of emotions flashing across his face.

“I don’t know how to respond.”

“You don’t need to. But that means I should keep telling you until you do know how to respond.” Leaning in their lips meet and they both smile.

Everything felt so right.

A week passed, Thomas and Noelle were busy with work and school, leaving Clay alone for most of the day. It was starting to take an effect on Clay as well. Yes He would walk around town with Tina when he was bored and his friends were busy or sleeping. He would hide William in places that he knew would make Thomas scream and run away. He also continued making little origami hats for William.

Tina hasn’t left his side recently and Clay really appreciates him greatly for that.

“Tina! Food time!” Clay puts Tina’s food in his bowl as William continues to tunnel his way through Clay’s hair. He doesn’t know why but William loves crawling in his hair. Thomas hates it because William scares him when he goes to Kiss Clay on the top of his head… and there is a snake there.

Clay goes to put William back in his enclosure, while he is closing the lid to the enclosure he hears the front door open and Noelle and Thomas call out at the same time.

“We’re home!” Noelle takes off her boots and hat and shakes out her hair from the snow flakes in it. Yesterday was the first snow Clay has ever seen, it was adorable. He ran outside in his shorts and sweatshirt. Standing in the middle of their tiny front yard and staring up at the gloomy yet bright sky as the flakes of snow land on his face.

He was looking up in awe while being barefoot on the damp grass since there wasn’t enough snow to stick and stay. He danced around getting his feet and legs all muddy. Thomas took a couple pictures of the flakes landing on Clay’s hair and eyelashes because Clay wants to remember this for the rest of his life.

They picked up the pictures on the way home today, Clay wants to add them to his little knick-knack collection. Clay is like a penguin in the way he loves to bring people he loves, little things from bobble heads to rocks and sticks that look like wands.

Thomas and Noelle both had a box that was almost already full.

“Hi! I missed you.” Clay runs into the room and hugs them both, giving them a bunch of smooches. “How was today?” Clay hovers around them as they unpack the groceries and the pictures, Thomas hugs him from behind and kisses his ear, making Clay laugh by biting it.

“Today was good, but we need to sit down and talk about our sexlife tonight.” Thomas mumbles in his ear and Noelle nods in agreement.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not, we just need to talk about what you like and don’t like.” Pinching his cheek Noelle smiles at him and Clay instantly relaxes, but he’s worried about what they will ask.

“Can we just talk now? I'm pretty open to everything. I’ll do anything you want me to!” His heart starts to pick up because he doesn’t want them to leave him because of things he doesn’t like in bed… he can always suck it up for them. Because he really likes them.

“Clay there has to be somethings you don’t like, I mean I personally don’t want to ever bottom. It scares me and yes I trust you both but it’s not something I’m interested in.”

“I like so be in charge during sex, so being bossed around really isn’t something I’m into. I also don’t really like anything like impact play… just no thanks.” Noelle hands Clay the can of Kiwi Apple Redbull he asked for earlier. He just holds it while he thinks.

“ I guess maybe… I don’t want to be tied up… unless you want me to be! Then I will!” He holds his Red Bull to his chest, really wishing it gave him wings to fly away from this conversation.

“Clay, we aren’t going to ask you to do anything you don’t want too, that’s why we are having this conversation, because communication and boundaries are important.” Thomas let’s go of Clay and walks over to where Noelle is trying to reach a cup on the top shelf that he puts there out of habit. He gets it down for her and they turn back to Clay. “You okay?”

“Umm I- I need to…” he’s trying to think of an excuse to leave because he wants to believe that they won’t leave him if he says no to something they do want but a voice in the back of his head sounding scarily like Ashley is telling him they will do whatever they want to him and he has to like it… or they will leave and find someone else. “I need to go to the barn!” Clay takes his RedBull and the keys to his new pick up and sprints out the door. Leaving the people he… really really likes behind.

He gets into the truck and turns it on and starts driving, with no place to go. Jesus, Take the Wheel by Carrie Underwood comes on over the radio and he listens to it for a couple of seconds before shutting the radio off as he pulls into a parking spot. He gets out and starts walking like his body is on autopilot. He doesn’t realise where he is until he is unlocking the door to Finn and Leo’s apartment with the key Finn gave him.

“Hey Clay.” Finn waves from the couch as he reads his book that Clay doesn’t care enough about to actually look and see what it is. “Leo’s in the kitchen.”

Clay walks into the kitchen after kicking off his boots that he doesn't remember putting on. Leo takes one look at him and knows.

Handing him a spoon, Leo points to the recipe he’s making from his mother's cookbook.

Chicken and Dumpling (minus the chicken)

Clay and Leo work silently together making this soup. Eventually Finn tells them he is going to pick up and take Logan home from the tattoo shop where he just got his half black and grey Japanese style sleeve done. He leaves the apartment.

“Should I tell them about Ashley?”

“If you feel comfortable enough too.”

“And if I don’t?” Leo looks at him and wraps a supportive arm around his shoulder as he stirs the simmering soup.

“They will understand.” Clay stays for dinner that night, eating with Leo and Finn. Clay and Finn talk about flesh pedestrians that Leo doesn’t believe in but add his thoughts into. After they finish eating Clay decides to go back home… yeah, home.

He walks in the front door and is suddenly off the ground in a vice grip hug.

“I told him you went to Leo’s but he didn’t believe me!” Noelle shouts from the other room, as she finishes chucking some socks in the dryer because Thomas would somehow manage to burn the house down.

“I was so worried! Are you okay? Did we upset you?” Thomas has set Clay down and is examining every inch of him. “You smell like soup.”

“I ate soup.” Clay smiles and hugs Thomas again, much softer. “I’m okay, I just am not used to people caring about what I like in bed. With my last girlfriend I was just told to take what she gave me and like it… so I’m sorry for just running out like that.”

“Hey it’s okay, but a text would have been nice.” Noelle joins in the hug and smiles at him. “Do you want to tell us anything else about her?” Clay shakes his head and Noelle and Thomas share a worried look but then nod because it’s not their story to know. “How about we go have a cuddle in bed and fall asleep to some terrible ghost hunting show? Yeah?”

“I’d love that.” And I love you. Clay thinks that in his mind for the very first time as he watched them walk to the bedroom. He loves them.

“I’ll have water too, thanks.” Finn was out at lunch with Sirius, Remus, James and Thomas. They all haven’t been able to hang out outside of practice recently so it felt nice.

“So, how are the boyyyyssss?” James puts his elbows on the table and flutters his eyelashes at Finn and Thomas who can’t help but chuckle.

“Leo is doing great, a little cold but great. He recently got a new tattoo that is a pinup girl of me and Logan mixed together and phew… it’s really hot.” Finn smiles and feels his phone go off but decides to ignore it for now. “How about Clay?”

“Clay and Noelle both got new tattoos, clays is vampire bites on his neck and Noelles is a Medusa with tentacles for hair on her Bicep. Pretty sexy.”

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo.” James smiles at the waitress who brings them their waters and straws, he shoots the straw wrapper at Sirius and then gulps down half his water. “I always chicken out though.”

“We should get together sometime.” Sirius flicks some of his water and James while he offers to get a tattoo with him. “What about you? Do you want one?”

“I’d rather have a piercing than a tattoo but I’m not against getting one.” Remus continues looking at the menu as he sips his own water.

As the conversation dies down a little Finn checks his phone, it’s a snap notification from Leo. Finn goes to open it thinking that it’s probably a video of him and logan having another stupid contest. What he is met with makes him choke on his water and start coughing but so he doesn’t miss anything he saves the video to chat.

The video is kinda dim but you can clearly see Logan, beautiful Logan, with his hands tied wrist to elbow behind his back as they stand in front of a mirror. Logan’s face is resting cheek to Leo’s chest so Finn can see his panting and whining. His hair is long enough it’s covering his eyes and most of his nose. All he can see of Leo is part of his chest that Logan is covering, the arm holding up the phone, his smirk that shows off his dimples… and his other hand that is currently fingering Logan.

He can see a bunch of Leo’s tattoos but it’s so dark he can only make out the Egyptian beetle on his neck. He watches as Logan jerks a little from what he knows is Leo hitting his prostate and at the end it looks like Logan whines ‘Finn’ but he has his volume off so he can’t hear it.

Fuck… now he can’t wait to get home.

[thiswasinevitableid]

52 or 41 for the meet ugly? sternclay, nsfw if thats chill

Here it is!

52. you think I’m leering at you in the gym but really I’m studying your form and trying to learn how to make mine better Sternclay NSFW

This is the toughest part of Joseph’s workout, so he could do without the audience.

He first noticed the guy during his turn at the squat rack; taller than him, in a grey t-shirt and black shorts that show he has muscle to spare, with brown eyes that were on Joseph’s ass whenever he looked away. Were Joseph not in the middle of the kettlebell burpees sequence, he might even spare a glance of his own to see how he fills out the front of his shorts, but he’s tired and he’s been dealing with behind the back stares all day.

When he’s done, he takes a final look over his shoulder to see the guy still staring at him. Joseph locks eyes, watches his face flood with guilt as he becomes very focused on his shoes. He continues studying them, as if holding still might keep Joseph from coming closer.

“Okay, I sense you’re new here, so I’ll be polite: everyone checks people out at the gym now and then. But the rule is you don’t do it so fucking brazenly the other person notices.”

“I, uh, I wasn’t-”

“I counted you staring ten separate times, even when your workout had you facing away from me.” He crosses his arms, annoyed that the man has the gall to deny his blatant ogling.

“I, uh, I was studying your form” the newcomer rubs his wrist, sheepish, “I’m kinda new to, like, formal workout stuff, and you clearly know your shit, so I was trying to use you to figure out how to do my circuit without fucking up my spine.”

Joseph rolls his eyes; that’s the first lie anyone tells when they get called out for staring.

“I’m serious!” The man has the audacity to look perturbed. Joseph has zero interest in an argument but every desire to call his bluff.

“Well, if that’s the case, if we cross paths again you’re welcome to join me and I can give you pointers.”

With that, he heads towards the locker rooms. He doesn’t feel eyes on him once the whole walk there.

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

“Hey.”

Joseph looks up from setting his fitbit to see his not-so-subtle admirer beside him. The taller man smirks, “you didn’t think I’d take you up on it, did you?”

“No. But I’m not about to go back on my offer. Or modify my work out if you join me. Make your choice accordingly.”

“Okay. What’s first?” His smile is friendly, but there’s a challenge in it. Joseph, who's been bored the entire day, is more than ready to rise to it.

“Jump rope. Nine minutes total.”

They find a spare rope for the other man, but he keeps getting his right foot caught.

“Drop your elbows some, when they’re too high it’s easier for the rope to catch.”

“Oh, thanks.”

His new gym buddy is winded when they’re done, but follows him eagerly over to the mats for his core workout. He’s better at that, though Joseph still has to correct the position of his back the first time. They move through cardio, weights, and cool down with no conversation that isn’t directly related to body position or technique. By the end, the newcomer is soaked with sweat. And..smiling?

“That was fucking brutal. Can we do it again some time?”

If you, um, really want to?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Joseph smiles back, “I’m here every day after work. So you can come find me…”

“Barclay” the taller man fills in his unasked question.

“Joseph. Oh, and try to get some shoes with better traction soon. You’ll have an easier time.”

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

“You okay there?” Barclay looks at Joseph from the treadmill on his left, “you seem kinda low energy today.”

“I ate too small a lunch.” He hits the stop button, walks as the belt slows, “I’ll be fine once I fish my power bar out of my glovebox on the way home.”

“Or you could, uh, you could come get dinner with me? There’s a great spot two blocks from here; it’s my favorite stop after you put me through my paces.”

Joseph thinks about downing a protein shake while wandering his empty apartment.

“That sounds great.”

Barclay leads him to a diner, all yellow lights and red pleather. His friend orders a stack of waffles and fried eggs (“I’m not a big fan of syrup”) while he opts for a french dip and, on Barclay’s recommendation, a chocolate malt. When the server asks if it’s one bill or two, Barclay pays for both of them.

“Least I can do in exchange for the free personal training you’re giving me.”

“It’s not like I mind” Joseph offers him access to his french fries, “I like working out with you. I’ve, um, never had a gym buddy before. UP agents are considered weirdos at work, I’m considered odd for one of them, and, well, you’ve done my workout; it intimidates some people.”

Barclay looks at him across the formica, beard still a bit mussed from drying it after his shower, “Yo--uh, I mean, it is pretty intimidating. But like, in a good way. The kind that makes you wanna push yourself.”

Joseph allows himself a flirtatious smile, “I’m glad you appreciate it.”

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

Barclay: gonna miss workout tomorrow. Got a date. Promise I’ll let you work me twice as hard on Friday.

J.S: Have fun. And you know I will, big guy.

Joseph slips his earbuds in; he’s gotten so used to their easy conversation that his best of the ‘00s playlist is jarring in it’s place. But he falls into his rhythm, is halfway through his workout when a tall, familiar shape in grey shorts hurries through the door and drops it’s water bottle next to his.

“Is everything okay?” He pops his headphones out as Barclay shakes his head.

“Date was a bust; guy was so pushy I bailed after one drink. Figured if I caught up with you the night wouldn’t totally suck.”

Joseph grabs a second mat, lays it out, “I can’t do dinner tonight; since I thought you were busy, tonight is for running errands.”

“No big.” Barclay lays next to him, their fingers brushing for a moment before Joseph counts them down.

As the evening ticks away in sets and reps, he gets increasingly worried about Barclay; his friend begs off both squats and rowing, and doesn’t join him for the ten minute cool-down jog on the treadmill. He hopes it’s just a side effect of having a beer before working out and not something more dire.

The locker room is empty on their side, and he finds Barclay leaning his forehead on the wall outside one of the shower cubicles, taking long, deliberate breaths. His shirt is off, but he’s still in his shorts. When he turns, startled by Joseph asking if he’s okay, it’s immediately obvious why.

“Sorry” Barclay is doing his best to conceal his hard-on, “this is hella embarrassing.”

“It happens” Joseph aims for a pleasant shrug even as his own cock starts acting up, “lots of friction and, um, and all that.”

“It’d be less humiliating if it was that. I, uh,” Barclay is redder than Joseph’s ever seen him, “I put a plug in before my date and, uh, I was in such a hurry to come find you once it ended that I, I didn’t take time to pull it out.”

He forces his voice to stay gentle, to not reveal the heat burbling up from his stomach, “You could have just asked me to wait a second once you got here.”

“Didn’t think of it until I sat down on the mat and realized how much I could feel the fucking thing. Like I, uh, I said, I kinda had a one track mind when I got here. I” his brown eyes are Bambi-wide when they skitter from Joseph’s gaze, “I wanted to see you.”

Shoes squeaking on the wet tile, Joseph nudges him into the stall, “Is that really it, big guy? You went through all that discomfort just for a few more seconds of being near me?”

“Uh huh” Barclay whimpers, his big, broad frame shaking when Joseph presses him against the wall.

“That’s sweet. Do you know what happens to sweet boys when they’re good?”

His friend shakes his head, hair catching across his eyes. Joseph tips his chin up, lips slightly parted in invitation. Barclay groans and drops his head down to meet him. It is, without a doubt, the messiest kiss of Joseph’s life, all sweat and odd angles like his first time in his boyfriend’s den in the July heat. The parallel is heightened by Barclay instantly grabbing his hips and humping him through his shorts.

“Joseph, babe, please, please say this is okay.” His hands tighten their hold when Joseph licks a stripe up his neck; it’s sweaty, sticky, the kind of thing he hates in porn but damn him if the doesn’t want to lick and suck Barclay until he can taste him in his sleep.

“No, it’s not.” Joseph cups his face to keep the panic he sees there at bay, “because if you cum like that, I won’t get to show you the rest of your reward.”

“Re-reward?” Barclay actually squeaks, and what can Joseph do at such a sound but kiss him once more.

“Shorts off, water on. I’ll be right back.”

Water obediently patters on the tiles as he shoves his hand deep into his gym bag; god bless emergency laundry quarters and bathroom vending machines.

He strips, joins Barclay in the shower and discovers his cock is even more pleasing than it’s outline suggested.

“Lord almighty, you’re gorgeous.” He lowers to his knees, traces the path of droplets through the hair on Barclays stomach and chest. Then he removes the first condom from its pack, rolls it down the thick cock that’s just tempting him to abandon his plan, then slips the second one on his finger.

“Fuck, this has gotta be a dream, right? Because it’s the same one I’ve jerked off to for fucking weeks.”

“No, big guy, it’s not.” Joseph reaches between Barclay legs, “oh shit, you’ve been wearing this all night?”

“AHnnnuhhuh” Barclay moans as Joseph toys with the base of the plug.

“And you still did a huge chunk of our workout. I’m impressed, big guy, impressed and very, very, very pleased.” He kisses his cock on each very, Barclay letting out an “uhn” at each one. As he slides the plug free he continues, “To think, your date was so unpleasant he missed out on not only your charm and your handsome face, but the fact you were prepared enough to prep for him.”

“His loss is my gain ohfuck, Joseph, baby, please-” Barclays cock bobs in the air as Joseph teases his ass. When he presses in Barclay gasps, Joseph praying the droplets hitting the walls lend any escaping sounds an air of plausible deniability.

“Nice and open. Good boy.” Joseph slowly works his finger in and out, building up to two almost immediately. He nuzzles Barclays cock, “do you always bottom?”

“M-most of the timeOH, god” His head lolls back when Joseph takes his cock into his mouth, sucking lazily as he fucks him open, “I like it, makes me feel taken care of.”

Joseph eases in a third finger, let’s his cock fall from his mouth as water collects in his eyelashes. Barclay is staring down at him, hair several shades darker as it plasters to his face and eyes hopeful.

“In that case” Joseph times his upstrokes to his thrusts, “how about you come to my place on Sunday? I’ve got a whole box of cocks to choose from; we could work our way through them.”

“Yes, ohfuckyesplease.”

“We could play around with positions too” He can see Barclay’s muscles flexing in new ways as he begins bucking his hips, chasing the tender pressure of Joseph’s fist, “I bet you look great on all fours, and I know what you look like with your ass in the air already. You in my lap, that could be fun--oh, ohshit” he laughs as Barclay nearly fucks himself off his fingers, “you like that, like the idea of sitting in my lap like the big, sweet boy you are while I fuck you, like the thought of cumming on my cock and then going to fetch the next one, of me not letting you stop until we’ve been thorough and found your favorite because that’s what you deserve-”

“Fuck!” Barclay moans, hands slipping on the tile as he floods the tip of the condom. Joseph adds “get tested” to his mental to-do list while the other man slides down the wall like a slasher victim until they’re face to face on the floor.

“You okay, big guy?”

“Can’t feel my legs.”

“That’s just the lunges talking.”

“Please” Barclay kisses his shoulder, “please let me suck your dick.”

Joseph smacks the handle until the water turns off, scrambles to his feet and clings to the “no-slip” bar as Barclay shoves his face between his legs. He sucks his cock, occasionally opening his mouth enough to licks his folds. He’s so eager, even tries fucking into him with his tongue, big hands groping his ass while Joseph stifles his moans in his forearm. He’s going to cum in the gym shower, he’s going to cum from his first blowjob in years, he’s coming to cum from the astounding, impossibly hot man below him who he intends to dom into next fucking week-

He cums hard, the hand not bracing him on the wall dropping down to stroke Barclays hair. After a moment, he tries to grab his towel from where he tossed it, Barclay smiling up at him.

“Hey, Joseph?”

“Yes? Hah, got you” He pulls the towel in.

“I was staring at your ass that first day. I mean, I was mostly looking at your form but there was for sure some ass appreciation.”

“I fucking knew it.” Joseph begins drying him off, “just for that you owe me dinner again.”

“Thought you had errands.”

“Shit. How do you feel about a romantic, pre-dinner Target run?”

“I’d love it.”

[jjunberry]

GOT7-Domestic Moments

____

JAEBEOM:

Jaebeom was at the studio all day which means you’ve been home by yourself. This never really bothered you however today you’ve just missed him a lot. He’s been busy all week. Jaebeom leaves early and comes home late and barely has anytime to spare you a goodbye or good night kiss. The apartment was quiet so when your phone started ringing loudly it caused you to jump. “ Hello?” you answered. “ Hey Y/n, it’s Jinyoung can you come and help us get him to take a break. He’s been working non stop we are worried.” You sighed. “Yeah I’ll come.”

When you made it to the studio the boys were releaved to see you and the bags of take out you was carrying. After giving the hungry boys their food you took Jaebeom his. Headphones blasting new beats to new music covered his ears as his head moved along to the music. Under is eyes were dark and he was wearing the same sweats he wore yesterday.

You sat the food down on the table in his studio and walked up behind him wrapping your arms around him. Jaebeom jumped and quickly turned to face who came up behind him. The shocked look quickly turned into a look of happiness when he saw it was only you. “ Hey babe.” his voice was low. “ Hey. I brought you food let’s take a break okay?” Jaebeom frowned. “ I’ll eat later I have to finish this.” You sighed before placing your hands on his tense shoulders. “Babe.” his voice cut off when you began to massage his shoulders. He let out small groans finally happy to release the stress weighing on his shoulders.

You left kisses on his neck and continued to work on his shoulders releasing the stress they held. Jaebeom grabbed your hands bring each one to his lips leaving a kiss on them. “ Alright you win i’ll take a break.” You kissed his cheek and brought him over to the table to eat. “ I love you.” He said before he started eating. “ I love you more.”

MARK:

Mark has been really into playing online games with Bambam recently. Most if not all of his day is spent with him playing games. You don’t care if he plays his video games but you’ve missed him in more ways then one. “Mark?” You called out when you entered your apartment. You got no response. “MARK?” you called again louder. When you didn’t get an answer you went into his his self proclaimed game room which was just the home office he dragged his gaming stuff into. “Babe.” You touched his shoulder. “One second.” was his response. You sighed going into your shared bedroom.

Nothing really gets him to stop playing once he’s really into one of his games. You decided to take a relaxing bath. You added bath salts and a bath bomb to the extremely warm water. Just as you was about to get in the bathroom door burst open and Mark rushed in. “ Oh sorry. It’s a quick bathroom break before the next game starts.” he rushed out before using the bathroom.

You stood there naked and in shock as Mark used the bathroom. When he was done and washing his hands was when he realized you was naked. A deep blush covered his face. “ You know if you weren’t playing your game maybe you would be in a nice hot bath, with me.....naked.” Mark visibly swallowed.

“ But you can’t leave the boys hanging right? So go play your game i’ll be here.” you teased. Next thing you know Mark was stripping joining you in the bath. You now know how to get his attention away from his games.

JACKSON:

The house was quiet. You and Jackson lived together but his schedule kept him busy and away from home a lot. You got lonely and wanted something to keep you company. So without consulting Jackson you headed to the local animal shelter. He’s been to busy to actually talk about adopting a dog anyway and you know he’s always wanted one so you went ahead and looked into adopting one.

There was so many animals and they were all waiting for a forever home. If the option was given you would have taken them all home with you. But the one that caught your eye then stole your heart was a small brown dog. She looked lonely but once you got to meet her she became a big ball of sunshine. She reminded you of Jackson so you chose her.

When you got home with the puppy bundled in your arms Jackson was already home. “Jackson.” Your voice was full of surprise which caused Jackson to smile. “ Hey babe, how was your- What are you holding and why is it moving?” You giggled. “ Please don’t get mad.” You said before opening the blanket and setting the puppy down.

Jackson’s eyes went wide. “ YOU GOT A PUPPY.” He screamed. He rushed towards the dog and laid on the floor causing the dog to jump on his chest and start licking his face. “ You aren’t mad?” you asked. “ Mad? Why would I be mad. I’m so happy we have a child now, we are parents! I love you.” “ I love you too, but she still needs a name.” He smiled wide. “We will name her princess.” You giggled. “Okay then, Welcome home Princess.”

JINYOUNG:

You was bored. Jinyoung was reading a book on the opposite end of the couch. You kept letting out sighs to see if Jinyoung would give you attention but he was really into the book he was reading. Your foot connected with his thigh and you lightly kicked him in hopes of getting his attention.

He didn’t even look up from his book. You then decided to crawl over to him and sit on his lap. “ Jinyoung.” nothing. “JINYOUNG.” He let out a long sigh. “ Yes?” he asked. “ I’m bored.” He rolled his eyes. “ I couldn’t tell.” You in return rolled your eyes. “ Can we do something?” Jinyoung marked his page and closed his book. “ Like what?” You shrugged your shoulders. “ Let’s bake cupcakes!”

Jinyoung followed you into the kitchen where you were already gathering the ingredients. Baking cupcakes turned into a food war after you smacked Jinyoung’s butt with a flour covered hand.

You had cake batter matted in your hair and Jinyoung was covered in eggs and flour. You both cleaned up the kitchen before taking a shower. “ Next time let’s bake something that doesn’t become this messy.” Jinyoung said while he washed the cake batter out of your hair.

YOUNGJAE:

Youngjae was jealous. He loved you and Coco getting along. He did but he didn’t love that You and Coco were cuddling without him. Youngjae had been home from practice for more than an hour now and you haven’t made any room for him to join you in cuddles.

You was laying on the couch with Coco tucked in by your side. Youngjae was sitting on the chair in the living room letting out sighs. “Babe why are you sighing is everything okay? Was practice okay?” Your voice was full of worry. Youngjae shook his head. “ Nope practice was fine. Am I not allowed to cuddle you?” He asked. You frowned. “ Youngjae you are always allowed to cuddle me. Why do you ask?”

“You haven’t made room for me to cuddle you and i’ve been home for an hour.” He stated before crossing his arms. “ Babe I know but Coco was sleeping and i didn’t want to move her.” Youngjae’s frown turned into a smile which always lights up the room. “ Oh sorry babe we can cuddle when Coco wakes up.” Youngjae sat and waited until Coco woke up because he didn’t want to disturb her sleep.

BAMBAM:

Bambam had been annoying you all day. Not in a bad way he’s just been trying to make you laugh or he’s been doing random funny acts out of no where. When it started to get late you was getting tired. Bambam however still at it. His laughs filled the apartment. He was to busy playing with the cats so you took the time to slip away and head to bed.

You were sleeping peacefully for about half an hour before Bambam entered your shared bedroom. “BABE.” he shouted before plopping down on top of you. “BAMBAM.” you yelled. He was laughing at your reaction. “Bam please i’m really really tired.” You whined.

Bambam rolled off of you onto his side of the bed. He then pulled you into his arms and left kisses on your head. “ Sorry. You can get some sleep now I got you.” You smiled and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips before closing your eyes and finally getting a peaceful sleep.

YUGYEOM:

The weather outside was warm so Yugyeom had the great idea of you guys taking Dalkyum on a walk. The two of you got dressed and left the apartment. Dalkyum was having a good time running around outside. Yugyeom was recording the pomeranian playing around the park you guys walked too.

“Yugyeom let me get pictures of you two the sun is hitting in the right spot!” You pulled out your phone opening the camera. Yugyeom wasted no time posing with Dalkyum. Those two were so photogenic and each one you took was better than the last.

“Yugyeom these are so cute. You both look great.” You cheered showing him the countless pictures you snapped. Yugyeom smiled before grabbing his phone and pulling you to his side. He took a few pictures of you two together before you got shy and ran off with Dalkyum.

Yugyeom snuck some pictures of you knowing how camera shy you got. Once he was happy with the pictures he took he ran over to the two of you all smiles and his heart full of love.

____

ahhh my first time writing for got7!!

i hope you enjoyed- Echo ❤️❤️

(all gifs found on pinterest credits to owners)

[kerwritesthings]

Subway Surfing

Summary: When a literal run in changes the course of a day, let alone of a life…

Word Count: little bit over 2.2k

Warning: adorable, fluff and funny

Author Notes: A bit of a birthday surprise for @fallinallincurls​ - Happy, happy birthday Bre! Big birthday deserves nothing more than the start of a new verse for the hockey boy I forced at you last year. Umm sorry not sorry.

Things have been a lot of not ok around here for a good clip, I’ve been really not ok. It’s been hard. Writing hasn’t come, life has just kept throwing me down and down. Trying to fight the way back up, not easy but I’m trying. This was a nice way to try to get back some of that light. I had been poking at this for a beat, the idea gnawing at me with some pieces written, notes scribbled around, but birthday sparkle helped get it over the finish line. Part two already has some bones, as does part three - but please to bear with me if you will.

You hate that it’s a Saturday and you’re trekking your way into the office. It’s finally truly fall in the city and it’s a gorgeous day. The last thing you want is to be stuck at your desk behind a computer screen. You want a hot spiked apple cider, a book, a good playlist and your plaid blanket on the grass in Central Park.

It looks like the rest of the city is awake early on this day for the same reason. The subway, which normally is slightly more bearable at this time on a weekend, is the furthest thing from that. It’s packed with people including the grimy, sweat-ladened guy in the chopped-up joggers and crocs who keeps trying to “accidentally” bump and grab you every chance he gets.

The next stop, you try to move but too many people are coming on and off as the doors only quickly open and shut. You just end up jostling as the car jolts in its start. You can’t fall forward. It would land you right into the situation you’re trying to flee. Instead, you try to lean back but you slip. Fully prepared to wipe out, a hand comes gently to steady your elbow while another holds you at your shoulder.

You hear a mish mosh of “careful there” and “are you ok” crossing together as you get back steady on your feet.

“Thanks for saving me for either face planting or landing in that sweaty creep’s grasp,” you say, sliding your bag back securely on your shoulder before turning.

You know those faces. You’ve seen them on billboards and most definitely on TV. Shit, shit and shit. Of course, the two star, absolutely adorable bestie forwards from the New York Islanders have come to your rescue. This would be your luck. At least you pulled yourself somewhat together for this Saturday jaunt to the office. You keep a straight face, smiling normally and not letting anything on.

“Couldn’t let you risk that. He’s been a bit of an ass since he got into the car. We said if he were still acting a fool at next stop, we would jump in. Plotted a rescue mission and everything,” the one explains, hand running through his hair.

“His mission was to cross his arms and give him the eye,” the other mocks, shoving at his friend’s shoulder. “I mean I guess he can look threatening, like a puppy maybe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. These two are exactly as they’ve seemed in interviews. Mathew and Anthony really are as thick as thieves.

“That sarcastic asshole is Anthony and I’m Mat. We’ll stay close until he leaves, or you need to,” he remarks.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s the subway. That happening unfortunately is just another day that ends in y, you know?” you explain. “I also don’t want to take up more of your time or ruin any of your plans.”

“You deal with that? Often?” Anthony asks, eyes a little wide.

“Welcome to New York,” you shrug. “Not every day thankfully. But it’s often enough.”

“I hope you know, that wasn’t, and we weren’t...” Mat tries to stumble through.

“No, no, no. Totally. I didn’t get that whatsoever,” you respond. “Not that from either of you guys. Promise. It’s sweet to know there are still gentlemen out in this world.”

They both get a little bashful smile across their pretty faces.

“Glad to help,” they practically say in unison which causes you to bark out a laugh.

Time to shoot your shot, you think to yourself. Worse case, it’s a moment you get to have for a fun bar story.

“I think we need to become friends, boys,” you start. “Or at the very least, I owe you a drink for saving me.”

“Yes,” Anthony jumps in, nodding his head with a wide grin. “You should come to brunch with us.”

“If I didn’t have to get to the office I would,” you reply. “Unfortunately, it’s stuff I need done before a Monday morning meeting.”

“Office work on a Saturday? That’s no fun. Play hooky! We can promise a bottomless brunch,” he teases.

“Maybe after though?” Mat chimes in with a soft smile. “Get what you need to done, give you something to look forward to after?”

“I don’t want to ruin whatever plans you’ve had for the day,” you begin before the boys both shake their heads.

“It’s just brunch and shopping to try to get this one to up his style game,” Mat chides while Anthony rolls his eyes.

You bite your lip fighting back yet another giggle. These two, at the very least, would truly make some good friends. You dig around in your tote, finally snatching your card holder.

“Not sure how long I’ll be stuck. I’m hoping only a couple hours. But. If you’re serious. Text or call me,” you say, handing one off to each of them.

They both nod, each pocketing your card as the subway comes to a halt.

“Oh shit, this stop is mine. Thanks again for the soft hands and clutch assist guys,” you wink, dashing away quickly before the doors close.

“What is my life,” you mutter, the boys waiving as the train pulls away. “I need to get to the office.”

“Ok, I think that’s the first time we’ve ever had someone realize who we are in public, without a whole big scene or making a blatant ass grab type pass. We’re keeping her. Plus, you like her,” Anthony teases, shoving at Mat’s shoulder as they hit the sidewalk coming up from the subway.

“I could say the same thing to you Tito,” he snarks back, shoving in return. “You were batting the eyes. I’m not blind.”

“She seems cool and yeah she’s pretty, but I’m not jaw drop like you were when you saw her,” he chirps back. “I was trying to get a rise out of you dude. And it worked, you actually stepped up the game. And now you have her info. Don’t make me text her too. Cause I will.”

You’re just about to settle into your email with a cup of what your office likes to consider coffee when your phone starts buzzing about in quick succession.

“Looks like this is a thing,” you mumble to yourself, lips quirking up into a half smile as you formulate a reply.

“You knew?” Anthony grins over his beer. “From the start?”

You nod, sipping at your cider. You pushed through your work to be able to meet the two downtown at this tiny spot in NoLiTa that was tucked away from the crazy of the neighborhoods it was snug between. It wasn’t as sleek as you thought they’d choose; it was something much more comfortable and lower key.

“Really?” Mat questions.

“Yep. One of you not with the other? I would have had to do double take. I would have noticed, but probably would have questioned. However, the two peas in a pod together? That was a no brainer,” you explain, fighting back a bit of a giggle.

“You didn’t say anything,” Mat replies.

“How many times does that happen and it turn into a thing or a bit of a scene?” you circle the bottom of the cider bottle around on the tabletop. “There was also no point to, either. You were just trying to enjoy the day and you were being super kind keeping me from wiping out. I get it’s New York, so it’s a less likely thing but it still happens.  So, if I could keep it from another one of those moments...”

“Told you Barzy, we’re keeping her,” Anthony taps his beer against yours. “Welcome to the crazy, Evangeline.”

You can’t help but tinge a little pink.

“Well then. If that’s the case, my friends call me Evie,” you smile.

“Evie,” Mat lets the name roll around his tongue.

A couple rounds later, of both beers and darts, you realize how tight the two are and more so, how easily you could become entangled in friendship with them. And you do. Texts and memes and random photos fly back and forth, you all hang when all your schedules align. You’re also fostering relationships with each of them separately too; sharing recipes of things you want to try to bake and longing about the places you miss in Quebec with Anthony while Mat was trying to teach you more about basketball (with little luck) and in turn you trying to expand what he calls music and what actually is music. You also share some of your favorite places in the city that the two really didn’t know about. It was easy with them, together and individually but you were getting a bit more of a tug, a bit of a warmer burn with Mat.

A Saturday morning a few weeks after the afternoon drinking funtivities, you wake up to a few texts, photos really, from the group chat with the boys. First is a pair of tickets and passes to their game that night. Second is two jerseys: a blue Barzal and a white Beauvillier. The third, a text from Mat.

Choose carefully…

We’re also not taking no for an answer. You’re coming. Game and drinks after.

“Oh shit,” you exhale, quickly jumping to your closet.

“Beth?” you call out from your room, tossing through your clothes looking for two specific items. “Please tell me you don’t have plans tonight.”

“Hot date with a bottle of pinot noir and trash tv, why?” she pokes her head into your room.

“Good. You do now. You’re coming with me to the Islanders game tonight,” you mutter, flipping through more hangars.

“Wait excuse me?” she flops down, cross-legged on the end of your bed.

“So, I may have left a tiny detail out from when I told you about the two cute guys who saved me on the subway,” you explain.

“Ok and?” Beth prompts you to continue.

“They’re Islanders…” you trail off.

“What?” she screams tossing one of your throw pillows at you.

“I’m trying to not make a big deal, cause you know. But, at the same time, well you know,” you reply, finally finding the long sleeve you wanted to wear as well as one of your hockey jerseys.

“You need to give me more than this, Evie,” Beth pries.

You lean back against your closet door.

“It was Anthony Beauvillier and Mat Barzal,” you say.

Beth screams and throws another pillow at you.

“You just casually didn’t tell me that you met the damn Calder winner and his like bromance bestie,” she laments. “Evie, what the fuck?”

“This is exactly why,” you sigh. “Like it started out as ok I could have a moment, a cool story to tell. But honestly, they’re two really great guys.”

“You’re not telling me something, I can see it in that wistful look,” she pokes. “Oh god you’re sweet on one of them, aren’t you?”

You shake your head at Beth, not acknowledging the question. Shoving her over a little, you fold the jersey on the bed next to her, so the logo was perfectly visible, but no giveaway of the name on the back or numbers on the sleeves.  

Fine if you two summon I guess I must go. I’m bringing Beth, my roommate, so you need to behave. She’s already a pretty big hockey fan so I apologize now in advance for any of her crazy. She’s great but gets excited. Also, easy answer: where’s the Ebs jersey? ;) Or I can always wear this one.

You snap a quick shot of your Dallas Stars jersey.

Mat of course chimes in first.

That’s cold Evie, really cold. And that thing? That’s even worse. Who is on there? Do I wanna know?

Then Anthony.

Non. Non. Non. Why do you even have that jersey!?

“You’ve got that look,” Beth pokes at your thigh. “I’ll leave you be for now. Need to be at the arena what 6? We should leave here at 4:30. Worse case we get there early, we can snag a drink nearby. I don’t trust the train or the subway on a Saturday to be on time. Thanks for bringing me, Roomie. I’m excited and I get to meet these boys of yours.”

I have favorites across the league, you both know I liked the sport well before you two came along. I have the appropriate jerseys for my boys. Well, almost. You guys making me choose is mean af. Rock paper scissors it between you both, whoever wins that’s what I’ll wear.

“Just leave her yours, you know you want to no matter who would win at that little challenge of Evie’s,” Anthony smiles as the text comes through, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “And I know you’d pull shit to do it no matter what. She’s really your girl anyway.”

“What…” Mat starts before Anthony jumps in.

“You know it’s never been like that with her for me, dude. She’s awesome and I’m so glad to have her as a friend,” he replies. “You though? Since moment one, she’s been something else for you. You need to make a move. You’ve got game, I’ve seen it.”

“Evie’s. She’s Evie. There’s more there...” he leans back into his locker.

“More reason to then Barzy,” he volleys back. “Come on, get your shit together. We can drop everything to leave for her on the way out.”

[joonsrack]

+Pairing: Namjoon x fem!reader, Taehyung x fem!reader (one-sided), 

+Genre: Angst, humor, fluff, two-shots, sfw

+Word count: ~8.5k

+Warning: Mention of past recreational drug use (weed), blood mention (nosebleed), lot of pinning 

+Rating: Pg13

+Summary: 

Your roommate and long-time one-sided crush disappears one morning, leaving behind only a post-it note stating two things:

1. He’s off to finally meet the love of his life whom he met on the internet, might take the whole summer;

2. He’s sub-renting his room while he’s gone, don’t worry it’s all taken care of;

+A/N: Just six days late, nothing too major. This is the first part of a two-shot I’m writing for the bangtanscenery collab: April Shower & May Flower. This didn’t turn out as expected, but it is what it is lmao. Thank you to @gguksgalaxy for helping me brainstorm, and @spicykoreantatertots and @starlightseoks​ for reading over my stuff, fixing my mistakes and giving me the validation I needed to carry on 💖

The first day of summer vacation is supposed to be a good day, a great day even. No more finals, no more studying; just warm weather, lazing around, and maybe picking up some shifts at the grocery store.

Today is all of that, but it’s also the worst day of your life.

It had started as it was supposed to; no alarm clock, just your body waking up by itself. You had messed around on your phone for a while, not caring about the time you were wasting. After the last three weeks of nerve-wracking deadlines and exams, you had deserved a break. The next thing on your schedule was work on Thursday, meaning you had two days completely to yourself. You had big plans for these two days; doing absolutely nothing.

But then, as the day was slowly shifting from morning into noon, the stillness of the house cued you that something was… not right.

As you have come to learn, your roommate, Taehyung, is not one to go about his summer day without his 20 minutes of morning stretching on zen nature sounds. Sometimes you join him, sometimes you don’t. He has a morning routine that he sticks to a T, and in a way, you find the sound of him doing his routine comforting.

Two years you’ve been living together now; or well, almost two years.

You had met in your first semester of freshman year, both residing in the same co-ed dorm. The horror of shared bathroom, kitchen, and living areas had prompted you two to throw caution to the wind and start living together, even if you were both still technically strangers. Two years later, the concept of being a stranger with Taehyung is so far fetched, it’s like you’ve never not known each other.

Which is why this comes as a slap to your face.

After finally making it out of your room and to the kitchen, you find in lieux of your roommate, a single post-it note, stuck to his old fashioned shelf stereo.

There are barely fifteen words on it, but that’s enough to destroy your post-final, beginning of summer haze:

Going back to Korea for the summer, I’m finally going to meet Busan_baby!

I sub-rented my room, he should get here soon :) xx

Objectively, Taehyung doing spontaneous things is not out of character. But this… Leaving for a whole summer, without even hinting at it...

You had plans for this summer. Plans that consisted of spending quality time with him, and maybe, possibly, finally confessing to him. Him leaving kind of put a wrench into that.

Plus.

Busan_baby…

The mysterious internet friend that’s been plaguing Taehyung’s mind since they met during an Overwatch raid, whatever that means.

Your two-year crush had only evolved in the time you were living together, and a part of you had become possessive overtime. So these days, only the mention of Tae’s friend’s username was enough to put you in the worst of moods. And now you’re going to lose your summer with your roommate to her? To a perfect stranger living on the other side of the planet?

And the whole sub-renting situation...you’re boiling. He just... rented his room. To someone you might not know, with whom you’ll be stuck all summer.

The first day of summer vacation is supposed to be a good day. This, this is not a good day.

Your first reaction is to, well, do nothing. You feel tears of frustration welling up in your eyes, and you recognize the burning sensation in your chest as anger. You feel a little ridiculous; you’re always factoring Taehyung into your plans, always have, but clearly he isn’t giving you the same kind of courtesy. You grab your phone, knowing he hasn’t sent you any text, but checking anyways. You have no idea what time he left, he could already be in the plane for all you know, but you send him a message anyways.

Me 1:27pm: Is this a joke?

You wipe a tear away, trying to breathe through the negativity. He must have had his reason, he does have his whole family in Korea, maybe they’re the real reason he left and he’s just joking with you.

Just as the thought is starting to make sense, you hear the key in the lock, and your heart starts beating double time.

It was all the prank, he’s not leaving for real, it’s him coming back to surprise you. See? You had nothing to worry about. The smile grows on your face, and you quickly dry the tears track on your face, not wanting Taehyung to tease you about them.

But doubt quickly sets in your mind when it’s clearly taking too long for whoever on the other side to open the door. The bolt is old, and it had taken you and Taehyung weeks before you had been able to know the right way to unlock it without struggling.  

You can hear them struggling with the key, rattling the doorknob, until finally the bolt clicks into place and the door swiftly swings open. Obviously, whoever is on the other side wasn’t expecting it to give, and they stumble past the doorsill, barely missing the floor by a few centimeters.

You’re shocked into stillness, watching the catastrophe unveil.

Mystery man then trips on the entry mats, throwing him forward once again until his head gets dangerously close to the kitchen table; but like a seasoned tripper, he flips his body mid-plunge, landing hard but cushioned by the shag carpet of the living room.

He groans, rolling on his side holding his head in between his hands, and you’re too shocked to do anything but stare in both horror and wonder.

The living trainwreck on the floor doesn’t seem to have noticed your presence yet, and you’re inclined to just lay low and wait until you can observe more accidental gymnastics, but you realize that would be weird. Would it be weirder than everything you’ve just witnessed though?

You clear your throat to announce your presence, and he freezes, opens one eye, spots you, closes it again, and groans even louder.

“Is there any chance you just materialized now and missed all of that.”

You shrug emphatically.

“I can lie if that makes you feel better.”

He sits up, smiling grimly and resigned, like this is not the first time this has happened.

You would go offer him a hand but you also have no idea who this man is, what he’s doing in your apartment, with a key, and seemingly enough bad luck to bring this whole building down by himself.

“So… Who might you be?”

He looks up to you in confusion, and for a second you think you also see hurt flicker across his eyes, but it disappears as fast as it appeared.

“Taehyung… didn’t tell you?”

Right, sub-renting.

You grab the post-it off the stereo and wave it in his direction, letting him connect the dots.

“He just did.” You say, voice dripping with sarcasm, and he winces, noticing how you’re clearly unhappy with the whole ordeal.

“I thought you knew...I... fuck. I can leave if you want? You don’t look like you agreed to this.”

You sigh, feeling bad that you made him feel bad. It’s not his fault after all. Plus, him sub-renting means he most probably doesn’t have a place to stay right now.

“No, no. Of course not. It’s not your fault, I’m just… he didn’t even tell me he was leaving. It’s a lot.”

Silence fills the room, and he smiles awkwardly at you before dusting himself off. You take the opportunity to finally properly look at him.

He looks vaguely familiar now, with his tall body, long limbs and soft brown hair. He’s wearing grandfather clothes, but it’s strangely fitting with his energy. The glasses perched on his nose are slightly crooked, but it doesn’t like it’s from the fall. It looks permanent.

If he’s Taehyung’s friend, you probably saw him around Uni or something.

“So, I still don’t know your name?” You finally break the silence, and he looks startled by the question, pushing the glasses up his nose.

“Kim Namjoon. Well, Namjoon Kim here.” He finishes with a faint blush on his cheeks, and you nod, well aware of the whole last name difference. You’ve been living with Taehyung for two years after all.

“I’m going to try calling him, you can...get your luggage in I guess.”

“His plane was leaving 3 hours ago, I doubt you’ll be able to reach him.” He says sheepishly, as if that was his fault.

You pinch your lips in anger containment, not needing Namjoon to watch you slowly lose your sanity. You feel a surge of dark emotions invading your chest, so you have to make your escape swift.

“Cool, nice. Ok. Well, I need to... be in my room. If you have any questions just knock on my door. Or call my name.”

You’re already off into angst world, making your way to your room, so you miss Namjoon’s parting words;

“But... you haven’t told me your name, y/n.”

You feel the need to grieve the summer that could have been, so you do.

The first stage is denial.

It’s a little hard to deny though, with Taehyung gone and Namjoon currently moving into his room, so you jump straight to anger.

You would feel bad for Namjoon, you didn’t even show him to Taehyung’s room, and your welcome was pretty cold. But you can’t be blamed, this was sprung on you. You were blindsided; betrayed; fooled.

You try to remember your chats with Taehyung in the last few days, but everything is covered by a mist of confusion. The last few weeks are blurred and blended together, a mess of studying, late nights, nervous breakdowns; so you and Taehyung were not exactly talking. You were more...existing in the same space. Or crying in the same space, really.

But still, you know that if Taehyung had mentioned his plans to disappear for the summer you would have surely remembered.

You write an angry text a hundred words long, fueled by the horrible feeling of having been wronged and a need for vindication.

You don’t send the text because you know at the bottom of your heart you’re being overly dramatic, but it’s still therapeutic to act like you’re going to send it to him.

Then comes bargaining.

You write another text, this one more conciliating. You promise to be a better roommate, to stop bunching up your socks and leaving them in the cracks of the couch (although he does that too, the hypocrite), to stop stealing the Korean snacks his mom sends send him once a month (which is a big commitment; they’re just so good, you can’t find this quality in your uni town), and to stop using up all the hot water in the morning.

You also do not send this text. There’s a little too many promises in it you just know you won’t be able to hold.

You’re transitioning into the depressive stage when you hear a crash coming from the living room, followed by a few curses.

With the whole thing you witnessed earlier, you’re surprised that nothing fell victim to Namjoon’s long limbs sooner. He clearly has coordination issues; you would be worried, except pretty much everything decorating the apartment belongs to Taehyung.

Everything except…

There’s a bad feeling creeping up in your stomach. You don’t have the worst luck in life, but you also don’t have the best. And bad things usually happen in a group of three.

Taehyung ditching you for the summer, Taehyung clearly being fooled by some internet catfisher, and….

You jump to your feet, following the sound to the living room. There, your new roommate is kneeling on the floor, gathering the pieces of dried macaroni scattered around him. You can see the picture frame on the floor, the glass cracked in the middle.

The first day you had moved in together, Taehyung and you had taken a picture together with a single-use camera. You were both exhausted from the move, boxes laying all around, but beaming with satisfaction.

You had gotten a frame for it but Taehyung thought it was too bare, so one time, completely high as a kite, he’d decorated it with macaroni and hot glue.

You hold it very dear, and it has a central place in the living room. Or well, it did.

The macaroni remains on the floor is probably the saddest thing you’ve ever seen, and you can’t bear the sight of them, so you give a parting blank look to Namjoon, who’s looking up at you pale as a ghost, and you walk back to your room.

Alright, so stage one of grief; denial.

Belting your heart out to Italian music is usually your way of dealing with sorrow, but with a new and strange presence in your home, it probably won’t be happening for a while, so you settle for laying in your bed, with your curtain pulled closed and some Andrea Bocelli blasting from your earphone. It works for a while, until your stomach reminds you that you haven’t eaten all day.

You sigh, bracing yourself for yet another reminder that you’ve been basically abandoned by the possible love of your life. You come out of your room dragging your feet, only to be basically assailed but the unmistakable smell of frying garlic. You’re both disgusted and intrigued, so you pick up your pace to the kitchen, finding Namjoon there, sweat on his forehead, with a concentrated look on his face. His glasses are hanging at the tip of his nose, probably having slipped there from the sweat, and you find yourself endeared by the sight. Only for a quick second though.

“Are you sure it’s safe for you to be left alone in the kitchen?” You ask, and he whips his head towards you, clearly startled by your presence.

“Well…” He says, followed by a deprecating laugh, and you kind of feel like an asshole. He probably broke the frame by accident, and it’s not like it’s his fault that Taehyung bailed on your summer plans to go run off to who knows who the fuck busan_baby really is.

“What are you cooking?” You ask, trying to change the subject, and he looks grateful but also very nervous.

“Hm, well Taehyung told me once garlic pasta was your favorite, and since I was trying to apologize for, well the frame but also just being sprung onto you so suddenly, I figured I could cook your favorite dish...”

You nod, but you can’t contain a snort, and Namjoon’s expression becomes worried.

“Taehyung thinks that because that’s the only thing he can successfully cook, and the first time he did I didn’t have the heart to tell him I can’t stand garlic.”

Namjoon looks at the dish, then back at you, then back at the dish. You see all the energy drain from his body, face falling as he groans in frustration.

“It’s fine you didn’t know.” You try to sound as apologetic as you can, but it doesn’t seem to be helping, and he moves the pan from the burner, closing the heat, plastering a hand on his face.

“This is going all wrong. This day is just mess after mess. I’m so sorry I’m usually much better at human interaction, I’m just very nervous right now, I guess.”

You want to ask what he’s so nervous about, but you feel like it might not help his distraught state. “Ok so, clearly this was doomed from the start.” You say, and his face falls even more, so you hurry to finish your thought before he can jump to conclusions.

“You showed up while I was having a horrible day; I had no idea you were coming; you...tripped and fell in front of me, probably making you feel embarrassed, then all this nervous energy lead to you having another clumsy accident, and I probably didn’t help with my overall coldness… and now, this, which again, is totally not your fault…” You let the silence hang for a little longer before you finish your thought. “ I think we should start over.”

“...What?”

“Yeah, I think we should start over. Like, come here.” You wave your hand in a motion for him to follow after you, and he does, albeit definitely looking reluctant.

You lead him to the front door, opening it, waiting for him to get the cue. He stands there, looking a little dumbfounded, glimpsing down at his slipper clad feet.

“Come on, only for a second.”

He finally follows your directions, stepping outside in the hallway, and you close the door behind him. After a good 30 second of silence, you realize he might be dumber than he looks.

“You’re supposed to knock.” You say just loud enough for him to hear on the other side, and there’s a split second before he finally does.

You throw the door open with the biggest smile you can muster, and he stares at you in actual worry.

“Hello Namjoon Kim, nice to meet you! Taehyung totally told me you were coming! Come on in!”

Namjoon finally catches up, pinching his lips to stop himself from smiling.

“Nice to meet you,-” He greets back, taking a step into the apartment, but the sole of his slipper gets caught on the doorsill, ripping it off.

He stares down at his slippers in betrayal, and you have to bite the inside of your cheeks to hold back a cackle.

“At this point, I don’t know how to convince you I’m not like this 24/7.” He says, and he looks a little bit more relaxed than before, which is good.

“I’m sorry to say that ship has sailed.”

Going to sleep at five in the morning is never the right decision, even when you have nothing planned, but the prospect of watching Hannah Brown finally eliminating Luke P off The Bachelorette is just too good, keeping you wide awake until you finally get the satisfaction of seeing the smug smile being wiped off his face. Taehyung was so looking forward to this, cursing out the man after every episode, and not having him by your side, yelling incoherently at your computer screen, definitely made you sad.

There's also the whole waiting-for-a-text-that-never-came thing.

You know his flight landed, you looked at the flight time between where you are and Incheon airport. The realization that you weren’t even worth an “I’ve just landed” text is enough to ruin you Luke P elimination afterglow, sending you straight to sleep.

So being rudely awoken at 9 a.m., eyes sore from the lack of sleep and maybe some possible tears of frustration, is not the best feeling.

At first you think you dreamed it, a loud crash from somewhere in the apartment, but then the groans of pain that follows are sounding pretty damn real.

You throw the comforter off, jumping out of bed in the same breath, trying to locate the source of the commotion but still woozy with sleep, and you find its origin in the bathroom;

Very naked, save for the shower curtain draped over the figure.

Namjoon squeals at the sight of you, making sure all the important bits are covered with the curtain that he probably dragged in his apparent fall, half of it still hanging off the pole.

Your sleep-deprived brain slowly catches up to the situation, and you slap both hands over your eyes, turning around with the intention to get out of dodge, only to walk straight into the door frame. The impact makes you lose your balance, the unforgiving tiles making contact with your ass at the speed of light. There’s a throbbing pain in your backside and there’s definitely something dripping from your nose. Another beautiful start to your summer vacation.

It’s your turn to groan, holding your head back to stop the blood from dripping all over your PJs. There’s wet fumbling in the general area of the shower, the sound of the water being cut off and then a moment later, a very naked man appears in your field of vision.

“Hum.” Is all you say, as he snatches his boxer brief from the counter, slipping them on in a flash. But you’ve seen. You’ve witnessed. You’re a changed person now.

“I forgot my towel.” He answers back, face so red it looks like it must hurt. There’s still shampoo suds in his wet hair, dripping down his forehead, neck, and shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to care as he grabs the toilet paper roll, offering it to you.

“Are you ok?” he asks with concern in his voice. He’s kneeling in front of you, skin glistening, and the sight he makes doesn’t help with your blood pressure. His handsomeness didn’t escape your notice, but this….this is a little overwhelming.

“I’ve known you for less than 24 hours and I’ve already seen your junk; I’m great.”

He looks a little thrown by what you’ve just said, but you can blame it on a concussion later, so you’re not too worried.

“Lean forward and breath through your mouth,” He says, choosing to ignore your comment. You follow his recommendation, pinching your nose.

“You seem familiar with nosebleeds.” You tease, knowing full well he’s clearly the clumsy type.

“I’ve had my share of encounters with flat surfaces.”

“So are you gonna tell me what possessed you to shower in the middle of the night?”

“Is 9 a.m. the middle of the night?” He asks, a grin playing at his lips.

“It sure is during summer vacation.”

Namjoon chooses to ignore your admission of being a living, breathing, couch potato.

“I wanted to go get a new pair of slippers, maybe a new frame as well. I obviously need to add a new shower curtain to the list.”

You look up at the way his tone goes slightly somber from irritation, and you’re having none of that;  it’s 9 am, middle of the night, and all you want right now is everything to be happy and breezy.

“Do you mind if I tag along? I wanted to get a corkboard for all my pictures, so I won’t need a new frame actually. We could go get some middle of the night breakfast too.”

His eyes light up, a new energy filling the room.

“Of course! You can, totally.”

His metaphorical tail seems to be wagging, and you’re a little confused about the source of his sudden excitement, but he seems to be in a good mood so that’s the important part here.

“Alright then, I’ll let you finish your shower- oh my god, wait. Are you ok? I heard you fall; that did not sound like a painless descent.”

Namjoon winces, rubbing at the back of his head like he’s suddenly reminded of the pain.

“I’ll survive with only slight bruising, it’s all good.”

You nod, relieved he didn’t hurt himself seriously.

“Let’s get you some bubble wrap while we’re there.” You tease, and he rolls his eyes, probably having heard that one before.

There’s this moment of silence where neither of you are moving, and you’re wondering what he’s waiting for to go back in the shower.

“So...are you waiting to get another peek at my junk, or?” He teases.

You blush, staring at him dumbfounded. Your sleepy brain says yes, but your pride says no.

“Right, let me get out of here.”

You take your roll of toilet paper with you as you leave, pride almost intact.

Both of your loudly growling stomachs make the decision for the order of things, and your first stop is the cheap dinner a few streets down. The usual grumpy waiter that you’ve grown fond of is on shift, and his eyes zeroes straight on you two the second you step in.

His regular glare is already pretty intimidating, but the intensity of his stare is enough to make you want to take a menu and hide behind. Instead you walk with Namjoon to the table you usually sit at with Taehyung.

“Hey Joon.” Is the first thing Yoongi says, throwing the menu on the table with all the lack of grace in the world. Namjoon salutes him back with the ease of someone who’s used to being the target of Yoongi’s laser focus. You deduce they’re friends, by the way they seem to have a silent conversation with their eyes.

He switches his focus to you after a beat, and you gulp loudly, confused by the inquisition in his stare.

“Hi Y/N, where’s your tragic love story?”

Your jaw drops to the table, shocked by Yoongi’s blunt call out of your unrequited love for Taehyung. You two often come to eat here, but clearly you come too often if Yoongi figured you out so accurately.

“Jesus am I that obvious?” You mutter, picking up a menu to avoid looking at either man. You don’t need to see Namjoon's reaction when learning you’re crushing on your roommate who’s also one of his friends.

Yoongi snatches the menu out of your hands, having none of that.

“The usual I presume?” He asks snapingly, throwing one last unimpressed look at Namjoon before walking away.

Namjoon waits before he’s out of earshot to sigh. “Who pissed in his cereal this morning?” he scoffs, trying to lighten the mood, and you’re grateful for his attempt but you’re also feeling pretty shitty; why do your feelings for Taehyung seem so obvious to everyone but Taehyung himself?

“Well, I guess the elephant is out of the bag”, you say with fake enthusiasm. You want to be mad at Yoongi for his brusque ways, but Namjoon would probably have figured it out one way or another. This is kind of ripping the bandaid in a way.

There’s another beat of silence before Namjoon clears his throat, and you brace yourself for what he’s going to say, which is why what he asks comes as a surprise.

“Are you ok?”

His voice is empathic, genuine.

You look up to him, eyes a little glossy.

He’s got a kind face; a dimple here, soft corner smile there; eyes searching but not judging, the crooked glasses giving him a nerdy look. Yet, you’ve...seen. There’s nothing nerdy about the rest of him.

You smile sadly, biting your lips while looking back down at the table. You’ve known him for less than 24 hours and you already feel like Namjoon is the kind of person you can confide in, and before you know it, words are tumbling off your tongue.

“I guess… It just sucks that I was not even worth a ‘I’ve just landed text’. Or even better, him telling me in person that he was leaving for the summer, completely ruining all the plans we made together.” Namjoon nods along with your confession, and once you open your mouth, you just can’t shut it. “Like I’m always making sure he’s included in all of my planifications, and I always go beyond to do stuff that he likes… Like I’m sorry but I hated doing pottery, like, I suck at it. All I made always ended up having a vaguely phallic shape and I’m pretty sure the teacher was judging me, but I still put through three months of pottery class, which were very expensive by the way, because I knew Taehyung would love that. And the Pasta! I hate garlic, I can’t stand it, but I still told him it was my favorite since it’s the only thing he can cook!”

Namjoon clears his throat, looking around at the people starting to take notice of your meltdown. You were getting increasingly louder, you realize, so you sigh, letting the tension escape your body with a deep breath.

Yoongi stops by the table to drop two cups of coffee, raising an eyebrow at you, to which you answer with a glare of your own. He walks away with an evil glint in his eyes, and you already know what’s about to happen. You still risk a small sip of the steaming coffee, only to spit it back into the cup, face void of emotion.

Namjoon winces at you, offering you some napkins for the drops dripping down your chin.

“He put mustard in it, didn’t he?” He asks while you wipe your mouth, then taking your water to wash down the acre taste.

You nod slowly.

“He’s got a weird way to comfort his friends.”

You nod again, but grabbing his cup at the same time. “Do you mind?” You ask, and he agrees enthusiastically, only to frown when he sees what you do with it next.

You grab the table syrup, dripping some all over Namjoon’s coffee cup handle. You put it back on Namjoon’s side of the table, smiling warmly at him.

“Where were we?” You ask cheerfully.

“I think he might just ban me from the Dinner.” Namjoon says in a daze, looking back at where Yoongi is throwing daggers at the both of you from the window, wiping his sticky finger on his apron in vain; You know this stuff is impossible to get rid of.

You knew Yoongi would expect your handle to be sticky after the stunt he pulled, which is why you did it on Namjoon’s cup instead. You make sure to send Yoongi your most radiant smile as you walk away, waving. You should probably avoid the dinner for a few weeks.

But now, belly full of good food, mood lightened, you can go on your productive day of buying stuff. You take the bus to the closest Target, a comfortable chatter between the two of you, when something suddenly hits you between the bedroom aisle and the bathroom aisle.

“Now hold on a second; I just realized I never properly introduced myself. I mean obviously you already know my name, since Taehyung seems to have talked about me, and well, Yoongi used my name earlier too. But still... Wow, I’m so sorry I'm the worst new roommate ever.”

Namjoon shakes his head no, fiddling with the brand new slippers he picked up on the way.

“It’s...fine. Actually, well. I was hesitant to tell you since I don’t want you to feel bad about it but... we’ve already been introduced. Also we shared like, three classes so far. I’m minoring in languages.”

“Oh… Oh my god.” You say, stopping in your tracks. You look up at Namjoon with wide, confused eyes.

“It’s ok.” Namjoon says, pulling you after him into the bathroom aisle with a light touch to the arm.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,”

“It’s fine I swear.” He reassures, steering you until you’re standing in front of the shower curtains.

“Wow, all this time I was acting like we didn’t know each other-”

“Y/N...” He tries to stop you.

“I’m sorry I have the worst memory.”

“I think it was more your complete and utter lack of interest for anyone but Taehyung that did it.” He teases, not unkindly. There’s more an air of resignation to it.

You drop your head in your hands, feeling flustered and embarrassed.

“Wow everyone really knows, huh?”

“You’re not exactly subtle.”

Maybe your friends were right; maybe you need to take a breather. Maybe this summer away from him is a good thing.

“So… Namjoon Kim, how long have we ‘known’ each other?” You question, quotation marks and everything.

“Well…” He trails off, thinking about it for a second before answering, scratching his head as he seems to be wracking his brain for the exact information. “Taehyung introduced us during one of the first dorms get-together, so I'd say as long as you’ve known Taehyung.”

You groan, pulling on one of the displayed shower curtains, hiding your face behind, doing your best impression of an ostrich burying its head in the sand.

“I’m a horrible person.” You state to no one.

“To be fair though, I was not on the same floor as you guys, so we probably didn’t see much of each other.”

God, he’s such a good person, trying to make sure you don’t feel bad with yourself for basically ignoring him for two whole years. It literally took him moving in with you to notice him. You peek from behind the curtain, not ready to come out completely.

“I feel horrible, I’m really sorry I didn't mean to ignore you for two fucking years.”

“You’re good, y/n, I understand. Actually I think that you-.” He says, but cuts himself short, mouth slamming shut.

“You think that I...?” You ask, curiously, eyebrows going up.

“No, nothing. It’s nothing.” He answers, but it’s hurried, the look on his face borderline frantic. He doubles up on the fiddling with the slippers, the price tag close to coming off with the way he’s tugging on it.

‘Curiosity killed the cat’ they say, but you’ve never listened to that; when you feel like something is being hid from you, you’re like a starving shark smelling blood. You can’t let go, you need to know what’s putting Namjoon in this state; what he was about to say about you.

“Namjoon, it’s ok, you can tell me.” You try to go for a reassuring smile, but the look in your eyes must give you away because it only serves to make Namjoon look more worried.

“I- I think that.” He clears his throat, looking around nervously. “I think that you’re holding the ugliest shower curtain I’ve ever seen.”

You frown, looking down at the aforementioned curtain you're currently still half hiding behind.

It’s truly atrocious; it’s a solid ugly grey color, the top part bare of anything, but starting from the middle, the bottom part is layers of ruffles over ruffles, hemmed by some white lace. It’s truly horrifying; very hard to look at.

“Namjoon.” You say, and his eyes finally settle on you.

“Namjoon, if you don’t tell me what you were going to say I'm making you buy this truly horrifyingly ugly curtain.”

There’s a look of pure unadulterated horror passing through his eyes, before he composes himself, looking perfectly neutral.

“It’s your bathroom, I'll buy whatever you want.” He says, voice void of infliction, and you smirk, pleased.

“Amazing, I’m so grateful you’re willing to spend seventy bucks on this curtain.”

“Seventy bucks?!” He exclaims, choking on air. You know he’s a student; students are usually poor. Simple math.

“Or… you could tell me what you were going to say, and I can settle for this beautiful plain white curtain,-” You entice, coming out of hiding to grab the other curtain on the display, stretching it out and showing it off as if you were in an infomercial. “yours for only…” You pause, checking the price tag, “ $9,99.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment of silence, he mutters something so quickly you can’t catch any of it.

“Come again?” You ask, turning on your heels to hug the monstrous grey ruffle disaster to yourself in a threatening manner.

“I said…” He looks about ready to take a bite out of the slipper to avoid your questioning. “ I think that you’re- I think that- It’s cute.” He stammers.

Of all the things, you were not expecting that.

“What?”

“I think it’s cute, ok? I think that you’re cute for focusing all your attention on him like that.”

You’re shocked and confused. This is not the words usually used by your friends to describe your relationship with Taehyung.

“It’s like the rest of the world around you fades away when you’re with him or you think of him, and I wish-...I wish I had someone who liked me that much too.” He finishes, the tip of his ears burning scarlet.

You take him in at that moment, this broad and tall human, with the nicest set of dimples, the soft eyes hidden behind his glasses, the overall grand-father look that he somehow rocks; The way he’s so big yet he’s got this whole gentle vibe going on; how he’s so involuntarily destructive but he also has this calm aura surrounding him.

Suddenly, you’re kind of glad Taehyung is not around. You probably would never have noticed Namjoon if he hadn’t left. It’s only been 24 hours but you already know Namjoon is the kind of person you want to befriend. And he seems to want to befriend you too, so maybe, this summer won’t be so bad.

This summer is terrible.

You get a text from your boss first thing in the morning asking you to come in early, someone else having called in sick. Your bus shows up late, making you late, and you barely have time to catch a breath before Karen, the manager, is on you, lecturing you for your tardiness. Yes, maybe you’re often late, but you can’t really help it if mother nature skipped you when handing out punctuality.

You’re barely clocked in when you’re handed some cleaning tool, a customer having made a mess with some jam pots, meaning this is going to be a sticky disaster. Then you get screamed at because some prick disagrees with the pricing of a jar of pickles, as if that had anything to do with you; You hate pickles.

It just gets dumber from there on, and when the end of your shift comes around, you can’t wait to just be back home, with nothing to do but finally watch the finale of Hannah Brown’s season and maybe stuff your face with whatever you got from the grocery haul you did yesterday.

You wonder if Namjoon is cooking anything; a part of you hopes that he isn’t, worried for the state of the kitchen; another part of you would definitely be pleasantly surprised. As long as there’s no more garlic on the horizon.

It’s kind of weird how this is technically day 3 of you being roommates and you’re already used to his presence. Of course there’s still some awkward moments, but they never last too long.

Namjoon is such a sweetheart, and there’s a part of you that is mad for basically depriving yourself of his friendship for so long. Another part is happy that you did so, or his arrival in your life wouldn’t be the perfect distraction from Taehyung abandoning you. Not that you consider him a distraction, but he’s definitely distracting.

When he’s not falling in showers, he’s singing in them, apparently. Completely off tune, his voice not the most graceful, but still very, very endearing. A shame that you had to rush to go to work while he was having his very own concert, or you would probably have gotten out your phone to gather some blackmail materials.

There’s also his possible inability to cook anything other than pasta; it’s been three days but you’ve already seen him cook some kind of spaghetti at least thrice.

You’re not the most accomplished cook, but you can manage. You have a feeling that next to Namjoon though, you probably look like a professional Michelin decorated Chef. You’re thinking about taking over mealtime when you’re home, maybe assigning him the sous-chef role. A risk that you’re willing to take so you don’t have to see what would probably be a hurt expression at being completely dismissed from the kitchen.

There’s also his ankles. He’s got such pretty ankles, you’re kind of jealous. They’re all dainty and pretty, which is not what a man probably wants to hear when talking about his body, so you’ve decided to keep this compliment to yourself.

You’re not sure exactly what he does during his day. So far you’ve observed that he spends a lot of time in sweatpants, on his computer, earphones cutting him off from the world. He had spent a few hours on the couch yesterday, a focused look on his face as he was clearly working on something, but you didn't want to bother him to ask him what he was doing.

You get home, sighing deeply as you finally take off your shoes after nine hours of standing. It’s dinner time, your stomach is growling, there doesn’t seem to be any action in the kitchen, and you don’t have the strength or patience to cook anything right now, so you grab your phone, pulling up the UberEat app.

You plop down onto the couch, bouncing slightly before properly melting into it, but you can't fall asleep now, you’re on a food-oriented mission.

You’re about to pull up the page of your favorite pizza place when something in your peripheral vision catches your eyes.

It’s Namjoon’s laptop, open on the side table, earphone hanging from the side; The screen light is dim, but you can easily recognize the face on the paused screen.

It’s John Paul Jones.

You can’t believe your eyes, and you’re so shocked, you don’t hear the bathroom door open. You jostle when Namjoon appears in a flash, slamming the laptop shut, looking particularly distraught.

“You did not just see that.” He says, hand still on his laptop, frozen in position.

“I sure fucking did.” You exclaim, eyes sparkling. This is the best thing ever. “You’re watching The bachelorette. Alone. Because this is something you actually enjoy.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.” He whines, dropping into a low squat, wiping his face down with one hand. “I swear I’m a feminist.”

“You’re a romantic, you love love.”

Namjoon groans.

“That’s why you don’t judge me for my crush. You’ve seen worse.” You marvel, and he looks up shyly at your tone.

“You don’t have to worry, I won’t tell anyone...” You linger on the pause for a moment, keeping him guessing. “As long as you promise to do your marathon with me.”

He frowns for a second, searching your face for the teasing or ‘just joking’ that he thinks is coming. But it’s not.

“You’re...a fan of The Bachelor franchise?” he wonders aloud, and you laugh out loud at the bemusement on his face.

“If by fan you mean slowly but surely making my way through all the seasons, all the series, all the content I can, then yes, I would say that I’m a fan.”

There’s a shy smile growing on his face, his dimple going the deepest you’ve ever seen them so far in your three days of co-existing. You’re on the verge of popping out a ruler and verifying once and for all how deep those really are.

“Then yes, Y/N, I will accept your offer of being your bachelor buddy.” He chuckles.

There seems to be a lot of marathons on this summer’s horizon, and you love the idea.

Going to sleep at 5 am is never a good decision, but when it’s because you were binge-watching Bachelor in Paradise with your new bachelor buddy, then you can forgive yourself.

You step out of your room, yawning, at the same time as Namjoon does.

“Hey” You greet him, to which he answers with a small wave, squinty eyes avoiding the light.

“Hungry?” You ask, scratching your head as you make your way to the kitchen, Namjoon following behind.

“Ravenous” He croaks, morning voice ten tones deeper. But it’s not affecting you. Not at all.

You open the fridge to browse the content, pulling out some milk to make yourself some cereal, going to sit at the table so you can both eat and scroll through your phone comfortably.

Namjoon sits on the other side, buttering up some toast with an impressive amount of Nutella; but you’re not judging, being an ex Nutella-addict yourself.

You pull up your text like you’ve been doing for the past few days, checking if you received any messages that your phone failed to notify you about, sighing when you still have no answer from Taehyung. You would worry, except there hasn’t been any newsworthy event about planes or Korea or anything; you’ve been following the news just to be sure.

You peek at Namjoon, who’s staring blankly into his slice of bread with the air of someone who didn’t get enough sleep. You clear your throat lightly to get his attention.

He raises unfocused eyes on you, and you have to bite back a coo at how adorably soft he looks, with his soft brown hair a mess, eyes still half-open, a light stubble slightly apparent, and his mouth hanging slack.

“Did you...did Taehyung send you a text or something? Since he left?”

It takes Namjoon a second to register the question, frowning for a split second before shaking his head.

“He hasn’t, but I wouldn’t worry. His family would have reached out if he hadn’t made it safely.”

“Hmm good point.” You nod, going back to your cereal. You’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Taehyung seems to have completely forgotten about you. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s getting bearable. You’re not sure how it’s going to be between the two of you once he comes back from his summer spent chasing his internet girlfriend, leaving you in the dust. You’ll definitely feel awkward around him, at least for the first few weeks. You’ll have to have a talk with him, maybe ask for an apology. So many of the plans you made together are now definitely not happening.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“The other day you said that you always plan stuff factoring in Taehyung’s interest and choices, and that kind of bothered me.” Namjoon mumbles, looking suddenly very awake but also very shy.

“Aw, don’t be bothered. In a way it’s kind of my fault you know. I could easily just do my own things, but I choose to plan around him because I want to spend time with him…” You pause, wince. “It’s kind of sad now that I’m putting it this way.”

“I know that he considers you his best friend, though, and relationships, even platonic ones, go both ways.”

You smile into your cereal, pushing them around the milk.

“I appreciate you defending my honor, Namjoon.” You tease lightly, a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“Actually I was wondering-,” He cuts himself off, scratching his head, before carrying on, “I was wondering, is there something you’ve always wanted to do? But you haven’t since it’s not something Taehyung would appreciate?”

The question takes you by surprise, and you wrack your brain, trying to think of something.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to do a road trip to the future birthplace of Captain Kirk in Iowa, but Taehyung’s not really into SciFi, so I never brought it up.”

Namjoon’s face is the one of someone who was not expecting this answer at all, and he stares at you for a long moment, something akin to wonder sparkling in his eyes.

“You like Star Trek.” He marvels, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “How are you so perfect.”

You freeze, he freezes; everyone freezes.

“Wait, what did you just say?”

“Erhm, well, hum,-” He stammers incoherently, face growing red, before finally getting control of his tongue again. “I mean, your cinematic taste; they’re perfect. How is your cinematic taste so perfect? I just woke up, my brain is still half asleep.” He laughs, but it sounds forced, and you take pity over him.

“Sure.” You answer, dragging on the syllable. ”Anyway, that’s what I would do. I’ve always wanted to visit there, and I’ve always wanted to do a road trip, so, yeah.”

Namjoon looks grateful that you’re not insisting, taking a big swing from his glass of milk, and you’re scared that he’s going to choke and splurt milk all over the table and you for a second. Knowing his track record when nervous, it wouldn't surprise you, but he manages to keep it all in without incident.

It’s been a while since you’ve practiced your reanimation techniques and Heimlich maneuver, and you make a note to review some videos, just in case. You have a feeling that living with Namjoon is stressful

“The reason I’m asking is, well, I’ve got nothing planned this summer, and I would love to try new things. I know we’re basically strangers at this point, but, if you want we could, you know, do some stuff together. Like, I would love doing a road trip to Captain Kirk’s future Birthplace. Only if you want! I don’t want to impose myself either. If you want to save that for friends you know better, it’s perfectly fine. I’m just saying, like, I’m open to doing stuff with you. Like, I think we get along well and,- Now I’m just rambling.”

You giggle, finding this whole thing quite endearing. You’re tempted to torture him a little, but you decide to take pity on him; it’s morning after all.

“Namjoon.”

“Yes.”

“I would love to go on that road trip with you.” You state simply, and your words take a moment to register, but he gives you a beaming smile, the dimples making yet another noticed apparition. The joy is short-lived though, a frown making its way on his face.

“There’s just one thing; I don’t drive.”

You snort, extending your hand to tap lightly on his, comforting.

“It’s a good thing if you ask me.”

“...Do you?” He asks tentatively.

“Yeah baby,” You exclaim, pulling out your best southern accent. “I'm a licensed driver and everything. ‘Haven’t drove into a wall since 2016.”

“That's not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Are you questioning my driving abilities?” You ask, leaning forward in a threatening manner.

“...No.” He gulps.

“Then let’s set a date!”

There’s a new air of excitement taking over the kitchen, the prospect of a road trip making you feel giddy like a child going to Disneyland.

“Wait, where would you get the car?”

“I can pull some strings.” You shrug with a taunting eyebrow raise, aiming for mysterious. There’s a certain someone who owes you one, and this is the perfect occasion for him to pay his due.

Before Namjoon can question you further, someone starts knocking on the door incessantly. You turn questioning eyes to Namjoon, who mirrors the look, and he stands up, hurrying to the door as the onslaught doesn't seem to be stopping.

There’s a flurry of movement as whoever is on the other side of the door jumps into Namjoon’s arms, sending him swaying back from the weight. There’s confusion and shock on Namjoon’s face, and you quickly understand why.

“Tae?!”

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Welcome Home Part 3

*not my gif*

WARNINGS: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, seriously I use the ‘F’ word a lot. 

Pairings: Cody Rhodes x OFC (Sister), Brandi Rhodes x OFC (sister), Dustin Rhodes x OFC (Sister), past Seth Rollins x OFC, future Kenny Omega x OFC 

Summary: Peyton gets an offer that will change her entire career, while she tries to deal with the rising feelings for her best friend. 

A/N: Here is part 3. I hope y’all like it. 

The next few days following the aquarium, Kenny and I were more inseparable than usual. Everywhere we went, we were together. When Dynamite rolled around, the entire locker room was whispering about us. 

I was on my way to the EVP room, when I was stopped by Kris Statlander. “Hey girlie.” She greeted, booping my nose. It twitched at the contact. “I didn’t hear from you much this week, and then I saw the pics of you and Kenny. Spill.” She smiled, with a raised eyebrow. 

I laughed nervously, “There’s nothing to tell. We’re just friends.” She shook her head. I knew what people were saying. “I’m serious, Kris. Just friends who went to the aquarium together.” I defended, moving my hands in a definitive motion. 

“Girl! His eyes were on you, not the damn fish.” She rolled her eyes, “How are you both so clueless?!” She threw her hands up, flabbergasted. She quickly whipped her phone out and pulled up the shark tank picture again and showed it to me, zoomed in on Kenny’s face. “Those are heart eyes, girl. He is in love.” 

There was no way Kenny was in love with me. “Kris, he is literally married to wrestling. No time for relationships.” I pointed out. 

“But he always makes time for you.” She said before walking away to film a bit for BTE. Kenny did always seem to make time for me. I tried to shake her words as I continued my way to the EVP room. Cody had sent me a text earlier in the day saying that creative had a storyline they wanted to pitch to me. 

I opened the door and Cody was there with The Bucks, a writer, and Tony Khan. “Hey, sorry, I rushed here as fast as I could.” I apologized for my tardiness and grabbed a seat next to Cody. 

“Peyton, we want you to have a with Penelope for the number one contender slot for the AEW Women’s Championship.” Tony started to explain. A huge smile crossed my face. Then Nick added, “We want you to face Shida at ‘Winter is coming’”. I shook my head. 

“No fuck--” Cody gave me a stern look, telling me to watch my language, “I mean, no friggin’ way?!?” I couldn’t hide my excitement. Tony handed me the contract for the match at ‘Winter Is Coming’. I looked down at the papers in my hand. “This is legit? Are you sure there isn’t anyone else who deserves this before me?” I questioned, looking up from the packet that held my future. 

“We have pulled all the stats, plus we took in account fan base and Dark comments. You beat Penelope, and you’ll be number one contender.” Matt laid it all out, and I just needed to take it. All it took was one smooth signature and it was booked. 

“Well good evening, folks. It’s Wednesday night, and you know what that means! Thanks for joining us here on Dynamite. Boy do we have a lined up show for you.” I listened to JR announce as I paced back and forth in front of the gorilla monitors. The announce team of JR, Tony, and Excalibur went on to discuss the card for the night. 

To say I was nervous was an understatement. Sure, I had been in the title picture before, but this was completely different. This would be my first title shot in AEW, plus Penelope and I were kicking off the show. That was something that didn’t happen often. Cody was waiting by the curtain, like he always did before my matches, to wish me luck. He immediately could tell that something was wrong. “What’s up, Pey?”

“I’m worried about Kip. It has me thrown off. He’s a wild card.” I mumbled anxiously as I bit at my nails. Cody nodded, giving me a knowing look. He pulled me in by my shoulder.

“You’ll be just fine, kid.” He smiled. I wanted to ask what he meant, but Kenny’s voice filled my ears before I could. 

“Hey, Princess!”  I could tell my face lit up at the sight of him. “I just wanted to say good luck. And ask if you wanted to grab dinner after?” Cody looked at the both of us and sighed. I knew he wanted the heat to die down from the Aquarium photo, for my sake. He had told me many times. I didn’t care though and neither did Kenny. 

“Of course, Omega. Thank you.” I replied quickly, throwing my arms around him for a tight hug. Cody grabbed my attention, letting me know it was my time. I released Kenny, but he grabbed my hand, giving it a light ‘you got this’ squeeze, before letting go. 

“The following contest, with a twenty minute time limit, is scheduled for one fall, introducing first from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, being accompanied to the ring by Kip Sabian, Penelope Ford.” I watched as they made their way into the ring and gave a disgusting show of PDA. 

I fiddled with my jacket, waiting for my music to hit. I instantly regretted letting Brandi talk me into wearing a choker. It suddenly felt too tight. I didn’t have a chance to remove it before I heard the familiar start of “My songs know what you did in the dark”. I composed myself and fixed my hair. I walked out the “Heel” tunnel and onto the ramp.

“And her opponent, from Atlanta, Georgia, well they call her the “Dream Killer”, Peyton Rhodes.” Justin announced my name and the crowd still cheered, which made my heart happy. I quickly made my way into the squared circle, so the bell could ring.  

The match started with a few back and forth blows. Penelope got me into a side headlock, before quickly doing an arm drag. I shot back up to my feet. Again, we locked up, before I drove a knee up into her stomach. I had quickly gained the upper hand in the match. I was getting ready to drop her with a DDT, when I saw Kip pacing outside of the ring. I flipped him a bird and slammed Penelope’s head into the mat. As expected, Kip got involved. He slid into the ring, getting in my face. “Get out of the ring, Kip!” I yelled and he stepped a bit closer. I thought he was going to push me back away from him. 

Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers as a figure jumped the barricade and slid into the ring. It was Mox. He pushed Kip back and into the ropes, making him fall through. This distracted Penelope and I took that chance to hit the “dream killer”, my finisher. I got the three count and the bell rang. Aubrey raised my hand and Justin announced me as the winner. 

Jon was still standing at the tunnels when I climbed through the ropes and walked up the stairs. I extended a hand to show respect, which he gladly took and pulled me in for a hug. The fans went wild. “What a reunion it was tonight for Peyton Rhodes and Jon Moxley. Now that Rhodes has defeated Ford, she will go on to face AEW Women’s champion Hikaru Shida for the title at “Winter Is Coming’ on December 2nd.” Tony announced for the viewers at home. 

Cody again was waiting by the curtain for me. “Great match, sis. Jon, thanks for having her back.” He said, like it was all planned. I needed to know what the hell Jon was thinking.

“Dude! You guys are trending!” Matt yelled as he walked up, shoving his phone in my face. It was like I was in a daze. I had no idea why Jon, of all people, got involved in my match. Now, we were trending on social media. Before I could reply, I was being pulled by an assistant to do an interview with Dasha. 

“I’m backstage with Peyton Rhodes. Peyton, what was that?” She asked. I quickly got into character. I flipped my hair over my shoulder, attitude immediately crossing my face. 

“What was that? You’re asking the hard-hitting questions, Dasha.” I mocked her, before continuing. “ Let me tell you what that was. That was me rising to the top of this division, just like I said I would.” I stepped closer to her mic, “That was me letting Shida know that her days as champion are numbered.” I turned to the camera. “Hold onto that title tight, Shida. Because it will be mine very, very soon.” 

Dasha nodded, looking annoyed with how bitchy I was being, “But everyone wants to know what Jon Moxley was doing?” She inquired, pushing the mic back in my face. 

I scoffed, “No comment.” I quickly walked away to find out what the hell just happened. Why did Jon come help me? I tried to find him, but no one had seen where he went. So I settled for finding my brother. I went to his trailer, and banged on the door. 

“Open up, Rhodes.” I shouted, and Brandi came to the door. I looked at her, fuming. “Where is my brother?” I snapped. She just moved to the side, letting me in. Cody was sitting on the couch, like he was waiting for me. What surprised me, was to see Kenny sitting there, too. 

“Glad you could join us, sis. Take a seat.” Cody motioned for me to sit next to Kenny. I cocked a brow, confused, but took the seat anyway. I looked at Kenny about to say something before Cody cut me off. “Since you two are wanting to be the talk of AEW, and have no intentions to listen to me or my advice, Khan wants you to work together.” My mouth dropped. 

“What the hell does that mean?” I growled. Kenny looked at me, shocked, that I was angry that we got to work together. I saw his smile drop instantly. “I mean, Don’t get me wrong, Ken, I would love to work a story with you. But I can’t do the whole ‘escort/manager’ thing again.” I objected, not going down that road again.

Kenny nodded in understanding, “I know. And you know I would never do that to you, Princess.” He ensured me, placing a gentle hand on my knee. 

“I would also never do that to you, Peyton. Trust me, this will be amazing.” Cody predicted, “We have a lot to talk about.” He smirked, taking a seat across from us. “After you left the meeting last week, Tony pulled me aside.” Cody started to explain. 

My mind was racing. What did Tony have in store for me? For Kenny? How in a matter of two weeks did I become number one contender and get to work with my best friend? I looked over at Kenny, who’s blue eyes were focused on what my brother was saying. He looked so happy. I wondered if it was because we got to do a storyline together or because he was getting his shot at the AEW world title? 

“Tony wants you to turn on Moxley.” Those seven words drew me from my thoughts. My whole body went rigid. Did he just say what I think he said? I looked over at Kenny who was smiling like a cat who caught the canary. 

“He wants me to do what?” I asked, wanting Cody to clarify what the fuck he just said to me.

[justlightlysedated]

I’m not sure if this is what you were after with your message earlier, but anything more with the Malex Charmed AU where Alex is a witch and Michael is a white lighter would be wonderful 💖💖💖

set in this au:

Michael’s never been so nervous about an assignment before. But that’s probably because he’s never been given such an important assignment before. Usually he takes care of future White Lighters or low level witches just learning to use their powers.

But these were not only the children of a Charmed One, but also the children of Jesse Manes, one of the most notoriously evil warlocks, who even the Source was rumoured to fear.

So yeah, he was nervous, but he knew what his strengths were, and he knew that he was chosen because he was the best at blending in and staying in character and the Elders really wanted to keep an eye on the Manes Brothers, without them actually knowing that they were being watched.

Michael takes a look at his reflection in the rearview mirror, and he looks just as terrified as he feels.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath trying to find his center, and calming himself down just like Max had taught him back when Michael had first become a White Lighter.

Once he feels more calm and less nervous, he gets out of his truck, making sure to grab his tool box.

Michael closes the door behind himself and looks up at the Manes Manor.

The architecture put it firmly somewhere in the early eighteen hundreds, and the mauve color of the wooden boards made it stand out even more in the neighborhood full of monotone colors.

Michael’s story was pretty easy to remember and to input. The Manes had several nosy neighbors, and Mrs. Karen Johnson, their next door neighbor had been heard complaining loudly about the fact that the boarded up windows at the Manes Manor hadn’t been fixed since they’d been broken almost a full week ago.

So Michael had decided that the best way to infiltrate was to pose as a handyman, after all, old Victorian Manors sometimes did need a lot of work done, if no one kept up with the upkeep, and something told Michael that the Manes were more concerned with other matters than their home falling around them.

Something which is proven when Michael gets closer and realizes that the door wasn’t left open, but was actually leaning against the door jamb, on it’s side.

Michael is trying really hard not to be judgemental here, but he’s surprised that they’re still alive at this point.

As he stops right by the edge of the welcome mat, covered in wood chips and what he’s pretty sure is green demon goo, and sets his tool box down, he can almost perfectly hear the argument going on inside.

“-should just admit that you have no idea what you’re actually doing,” one voice says, sounding very much on the edge of condescending.

“Just because you can’t do it, doesn’t mean that my patch job is bad,” another voice says sounding on edge.

There is silence for two seconds and then the sounds of wooden boards hitting the ground, along with the small metal sounds of nails falling.

“You were saying?” the first voice says.

Someone else scoffs, and then Michael hears footsteps.

Michael doesn’t bother hiding as the first brother appears, Flint, the middle one, walking out from where he thinks the living room is located and into the short hall that leads towards the front door, heading towards the stairs that lead up to the bedrooms.

But no one seems to notice him as his two brothers follow after him.

Gregory, the eldest and the tallest one of the three of them, is the one to speak next, “I agree with Alex. We should consider hiring someone.”

Michael clears his throat and takes a step closer to the entrance, but no one pays attention to him.

Flint stops right at the bottom of the stairs and gives Gregory a truly vicious look, “Of course you agree with Alex.”

Alex, who is the youngest brother, shares a look with Gregory and then obviously rolls his eyes, almost with his whole entire body, leaning back against the small table where an empty vase is located.

He’s the only one with his back to Michael, and yet, no one else notices that he’s standing right there.

“I’m just saying that your way didn’t work, maybe we should consider-”

“Dad always said that real men fix their own messes,” Flint interrupts.

Alex makes a truly impressive disgusted noise with his mouth, “Dad is also an evil bastard warlock who keeps sending demons to steal our powers, do you really want to keep listening to his advice?”

"Excuse-" Michael tries trying to interrupt them, but they keep talking over him.

Flint rolls his eyes with his whole body just like Alex did, “Just because you think he’s evil-”

“He’s sending demons after us to steal our powers,” Alex repeats.

Flint gives him an annoyed look, “Powers that we only have because of you.”

Alex pushes off the table then, making the vase rock alarmingly. "You're really still blaming me after the last demon confirmed that dad would've sent them after us anyway?"

Flint opens his mouth, but Alex cuts him off, before he can say a word.

"Do you want to be dead? Because that's what you'd be right now. Dead."

"I can't believe that you're willing to take a demon's word for it, when it's our dad-"

Alex scoffs, "Dad has wanted me dead our whole lives-"

Michael moves forward and knocks on the door, and he sees Alex twitch towards the sound, but at the same time Gregory speaks up, loudly.

"I think that maybe we should table this conversation for some other time," Gregory says speaking over his two brothers, who turn to face him. "And I also think that we should put it to a vote."

Flint and Alex just look at him expectantly.

"Should we call someone to look at the damage and give us an estimate so that we at least know how much money before deciding it costs too much and do it ourselves?" Gregory asks.

Flint scoffs, but doesn't move.

Alex raises his hand immediately, "I say we should."

"So do I," Gregory says, raising his own hand.

"Fine," Flint says, and turns around and stomps up the stairs.

Michael winces as the slamming of his bedroom door echoes loudly downstairs.

Alex and Gregory just look at each other.

"You make the call, I'll make the coffee," Gregory says, and turns around, heading towards the dining room and to the kitchen.

Alex just sighs and turns around and makes direct eye contact with Michael.

Michael feels very much like someone just punched him in the stomach and forced all of the air out of his lungs.

Michael had seen pictures of the three brothers to be able to tell who each one was and who had what power, but pictures really didn't do Alex Manes justice.

There was something magnetizing in his kohl lined gaze, and even though he was looking at Michael with suspicion, his gaze was so intense that Michael didn’t think he could look away, even if he wanted to.

Alex takes several steps forward which snaps Michael’s attention away from his face and down the rest of his body. The way his shoulders stretch out the thin fabric of his black t-shirt, and how thick his biceps look and down to how his black skinny jeans stretch across his thighs, and the flash of pale skin in the strategically placed rips.

Michael feels a stab of attraction low and hot in his belly and he thinks, oh, oh no.

“Can I help you?” Alex asks, sounding hostile, and Michael stares at him for a second longer, at the way he’s moved so that he’s right in the middle of the hall, but close enough to duck into the living room if Michael were inclined to attack.

Michael pulls himself out of the daze he’d fallen in, and lifts a hand and waves, "Hi. I've been trying to get your attention."

Alex gives him an expectant look like he expects Michael to explain why, so Michael does.

“I was fixing the back door for your neighbor, and she mentioned something about your windows, and I figured I might as well take a look since I don’t have any other jobs lined up for the next couple of hours.”

Alex looks him up and down for a second, taking in the toolbelt and the tool box that Michael had set down earlier.

“Which neighbor?” He acts like he’s testing Michael.

“Mrs. Johnson?” Michael responds, more like a question

Alex deflates at the answer, face losing all of it’s tension as he steps even closer, sending Michael a small, sheepish smile that almost sends Michael into a daze.

“Karen needs to mind her own business,” he says, sounding amused. “But since she has been dropping by with food and hints about knowing someone that would help, I’m not surprised she got tired of being ‘subtle’ and actually sent someone over.”

He does finger quotes around the word subtle, and Michael thinks that he maybe falls in love with him a little.

Michael shakes his head, and looks away from Alex. He hopes that this attraction thing is short lived, since he has a job to do, but a small part of him already knows that it’s not going to be as easy as that.

The only thing that he’s pinning his hopes on right now is that Alex is not interested and straight.

“Yeah,” Michael says weakly. “I heard the last bit of your conversation there, and I can give you an estimate right now if you want?”

He looks back to Alex, who looks up and then turns to look behind himself, the move making his shirt lift up, and showing off the rainbow studded belt he’s wearing.

Michael’s heart jumps in his chest, and he tells himself that that belt could mean anything, but that combined with the eyeliner and the cuffs around his ears are a blatant sign in a language that Michael is fully fluent in.

“That would be great,” he says turning back to face Michael, and the small smile on his face gets a little wider as he realizes that Michael had been staring at his belt.

Michael looks away from him then, and he leans down and reaches for his tool box, telling himself firmly that he has a job to do, that that’s all this is, a job, and that there are rules against this sort of thing. Rules that clearly state that relationships between witches and White Lighters are strictly prohibited.

He walks into the house, and signals to the door, “Should I add the door into my estimate as well?”

Alex looks over to the door, and makes a face, probably at the mess that’s on the welcome mat.

“Yes,” he says looking back at Michael, and then he takes a step closer, so that he’s within reaching distance.

“I’m Alex, by the way,” he says as he puts out one hand.

Michael swallows hard, but he reaches out with his free hand.

“Michael,” he says just as their hands make contact.

Alex inhales sharply, eyes falling shut as his hand squeezes Michael’s hand lightly.

Michael can feel the wave of magic that pours out of him momentarily, and he already knows that Alex is the one who can see the future, which means that he probably just got a premonition.

Michael needs to act like this isn’t something that he would know about, but before he can make an appropriately worried face, Alex is opening his eyes.

He licks his lips and looks at Michael with too wide eyes, pupils blown wide, and his eyes drop down to Michael’s mouth, and then even lower, before he looks back up to Michael’s eyes.

“It’s going to be so nice knowing you,” Alex says, in a low and breathy voice.

Michael’s eyes go wide and he feels heat flooding his cheeks as Alex’s voice hits him right in the middle of his stomach.

Fuck, he thinks. He is utterly fucked.

He wonders what the hell that could mean, what kind of premonition Alex had that would make him say that, but then Alex’s face goes a little panicked as he realizes what he just said, and he lets go of Michael’s hand, taking a step back and clearing his throat.

“I mean, nice to meet you,” he tells him in a completely unconvincing tone. “Let me show you the windows.”

He turns then and walks into the living room, and Michael watches him go, still feeling a little warm.

Oh no, he thinks again, and follows after Alex.

[blackberry-gingham]

Hiya! Could you write a little something about Paul dating a girl who is a big bookworm? She can’t go anywhere without a book in her hands. She’s just very timid and polite and Paul just instantly falls for her! Thank you so so much, my love <3

Oh it's SO cottage core time lol.

Thank you for sending this in!!! I love bookworm reader type stuff 🥺🥺 enjoy!

---

Today has been very bizarre indeed.

Paul sits on a worn leather bench in the hall of a recording building all by himself. He's brought his bass and some music sheets he's been working on, fully prepared for a little practice and recording with the lads.

He checks his watch once again. It's 12:38, over half an hour past when John told him they were going to meet up for practice. Paul huffs and thumps his head against the panel wall behind him. Damn that John...

"Well, this is a waste", Paul slaps his knees and stands. He does a quick stretch, and an old office door creaks open. You poke your head out to see what all the ruckus is about.

"Hello? Is everything alright out here?"

Paul nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice, "Oh, pardon me! I uh-", he turns to face you. He's seen you around here before plenty of times when he's come to record, but never found the time to talk with you. Not that he ever thought he could, that is.

You always seem to be reading everywhere you go.

And yet, that fascinates him. Your clothes are stylish, but simple and comfortable. You don't appear to care too much for loads of makeup or elaborate hairdos. Just... the natural beauty of you alone has his interest peaked. So different from the other girls he usually runs into...

Not to mention you've never before come to ask for an autograph or just to talk with any of the four of them! You're like a puzzle he wants to solve. He's so use to being hounded by girls, the one woman he meets that doesn't seem to care much for him, has him on his head.

You wouldn't know what to say to that, except that you're quite use to him and the other Beatles being around. Thus, you're simply not too caught up as a ravenous fan girl type.

No, you rather prefer books and your soft classics to rock n roll and it's stars.

"Oh, Mr McCartney... I'm sorry sir, but we don't seem to have a studio scheduled for you today... Uhm, is there some mistake?"

Paul leans on the wall, trying to be casual, but failing miserably. He paints on what he hopes is a charming smile, "Something like that, but it's alright! Say, haven't I seen you here before...?"

You smile kindly, although you see through his act, "Yes sir, I'm an assistant here. See?" You come out of the doorway and gently click your door closed behind you. Sure enough, your name is written in bold block letters on the glass.

Paul reads you name aloud, letting it roll off his tounge. "What a lovely name! Say, I'm about to head out, but can I autograph something for you, for the trouble? I didn't mean to scare you, haha. Uh... That perhaps!"

He gestures to a ragged old tome cradled in your arms. The pages are yellowed, the spine well worn, and the color coating has begun to chip away. Just barely along the cover, one can faintly make out the title, Pride and Prejudice.

You hold the novel tighter to your chest and turn slightly away to shield it. "Oh! Um, thank you but I couldn't... This is an original copy from 1813, it's practically a treasure! Er uh, not that I wouldn't wa-"

"From 1813?", Paul interupts you, not with the intention of being rude, mind, in fact quite the opposite. His eyes are wide and it's clear you've captured his attention for sure now.

"That's right! I just love books, you know... I'm something of a collector haha", you run your delicate fingers over the top of the hardcover and for the briefest of moments, Paul wonders what those fingers would feel like through his hair.

You continue, "I'm actually only here to bring some books home from my office, I was just leaving when I heard you out here"

Paul snaps out of his daydream, realising now that he's sad to see you go, "Heh, right then! Well I suppose I shouldn't ke-"

An ear splitting crack of thunder shakes the building, followed immediately by a heavy torrent of rain that you can hear even through the brick exterior. Your face falls, "Oh no... I'm sorry Mr McCartney, but I really must be going, tsk now I need to figure out how to get my books safely to the car"

"Would you like some help? I've all day freed up you know!", Paul's heart beat quickens as he awaits your answer.

You think for a moment. Well, you could use some help moving the boxes... Besides-

Your eyes focus on Paul who, if he's even trying to hide his excitement, is doing a very poor job of it. If he had a tail, it'd surely be wagging.

-he seems harmless.

At last you accept and usher Paul into your office. "Do you think we could find something to cover the boxes from the rain?"

Paul thinks a moment then promises to return in a jiffy. True to his word, he's come back with what appear to be drum tarps. He drapes the sturdy leather over both stacks, then stands back to appreciate his work, "There now, surely Ringo won't mind since it's for such a worthy cause"

You laugh heartily, and in that very moment Paul swears he'll remember the beautiful melody of it all his life. You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself, "Ahem, well then, my car is just this way"

Paul hoists his boxes up with a touch more effort then he was anticipating, but he'll be damned if he lets that on in front of you. He grits his teeth and hopes it's not too far as he follows you through the hallways to the back lot.

"Oh! Are those encyclopedias too heavy? I'm so sorry, I should've split the load...", You turn to check on him. He looks a bit red.

"They're fine!", Paul wheezes.

You don't believe a word, but you figure he'd rather carry on then stop now. Besides, you're nearly there. Finally, as promised, you exit the building and stand beneath the small awning.

"Alright now, it's that green one over there, see? We'll run over quick, and put them in the backseat, ok?"

Paul nods and huffs, hyping himself up for one last push.

"Go!"

The two of you race to the car, just barely able to see where you're headed through the down pour. You balance your boxes on your knee with one hand and shove your keys into the lock with the other. Without a second wasted, you fling the door open and push the stack inside with Paul's right behind you.

You slam the door closed and jump into your car for cover while Paul joins you in the passengers seat. You're absolutely soaked and Paul doesn't look much better. He laughs at the state of himself, but you feel quite bad for putting him up to this in the first palce...

"Uh, Mr McCartney..."

"Oh, Paul please", he laughs

You smile and muster up some courage, "Paul... Um, would you like to come take these home with me? I'd just hate to leave you out in the rain... Besides, I can make you a nice cuppa for your help. And, there will be biuscuits", you bite your lip, and suddenly the dynamic has flipped as now you await anxiously for a yes.

Paul looks at you very seriously, "Well, only if there will be biuscuits", after a moment, he smiles, and let's you in on the joke. You laugh alongside him.

Carefully, you drive through the storm and the city until you reach the edge of town. The rain's not let up, even as you hit the countryside. Paul sings and talks to you a little to settle your nerves, particularly as streaks of lighting and cracks of thunder battle overhead.

Before long you pull into a little dirt lane that slowly turns to cobble. You turn everything off and when the car is situated, you and Paul formulate a similar plan as before to grab the boxes and make a break for your porch.

The plan goes smoothly and Paul follows you closely across the stone path up to the painted white steps of your porch. Now that his eyes have a break from the onslaught of rain water, Paul take a moment to appreciate your little home as you fish out your keys.

The porch is quite small, and surrounded by flowering shrubs. A few vines of English ivy twine around the banisters and railing, creating a lovely frame and backdrop for the two person swing bench hanging just a few feet away. Paul is admiring the little pillows when you interupt him to come inside.

Paul follows obediently through the cottage, absolutely swimming in the atmosphere. Just inside lays a cute little door mat welcoming him to the abode. To the left is a small living room with a fireplace and a bench at the window. Every piece of furniture is tastefully laden with pillows and fluffy throws.

You travel up a short flight of stairs which leads to a single room on the second floor. The walls are made entirely of bookshelves aside from a little niche carved out for a desk and a split stopping just before the large bay window and bed beneath it.

Paul is so stunned at the sight of it, he has to freeze and take in the simple, yet majestic room. He feels as though he's in another world.

"You can just put those over there, I'll go start the kett- Uh, Paul are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, sure! Over here you said?"

"...If you'd please. Thank you", you smile and leave after just an extra moment to make sure he doesn't fall over or something.

Paul sets to work diligently and respectfully handling your collection, occasionally glancing reverently up at the towering shelves around him. He reads every title, feeling the old binding across the length of his hands. The whole room smells of aged paper and a touch of your perfume, and Paul's never experienced such a wonderful scent in his life.

He's about halfway through his stack of boxes when you come up the old creaking stairway to beckon him down for tea. Paul snaps to attention at the sound of your voice, then scuttles down after you.

"Here, I thought we could dry off by the fire", you hand him a cup and saucer with all the fixings he could want safely placed on the old wooden coffee table behind him. Paul joins you on the wool rug as you fix your drinks then settle in.

"Thank you so much for your help Mr-, er I mean Paul", you smile sweetly, and Paul has never felt so happy to hear someone speak his name.

"No trouble...", He mumbles.

You sip in silence for a while, and suddenly you shiver quite violently. Your cup rattles and spalshes just a touch.

A little embarrassed, you apologize and put down your cup, "I guess I didn't realize how cold I was", you laugh nervously and grab one of your many blankets and a few pillows to surround yourself with.

"No no, don't worry! Here, let me help", Paul hesitates just a second, but when you don't object he scoots closer until you're sitting hip to hip. You smile gratefully, a little blush painting your cheeks as you drape the rest of the blanket over Paul's shoulder.

"Thank you...", daring to take a risk, you cuddle into his side.

Paul welcomes you, holding you tightly and praying you can't feel his heart hammering away inside him. He and rests his chin on your head and places a gentle, tiny kiss to your fragrant hair, lingering just a moment to drink in the scent of it. You smell like paper and wisteria.

"No trouble"

[eagehaunting]

Mystery March 2021 day 4: Storm

Thank god Arthur let her borrow the van while he worked today. It made it so much easier to load up her small apartment and ship it to their new home- and in only three trips! Vivi bounces lightly in the drivers seat, glancing around and checking over the van one more time to be sure she got every box inside. Who knows how much stuff Arthur had to pack. He had his tools and his cork boards, along with his mattress and television... it would probably take them three-to-four trips at most. Knowing Arthur, they would probably be smushed together in the front seat because he’d pack the van to the brim!

There wasn’t a single box left, mind for a hanger or two. Perfect! Vivi starts the van and eases herself out of their new driveway, and hurriedly begins to drive down the road.

Thankfully Kingsmen’s mechanics wasn’t too far. Vivi leans over the wheel to take in the dark, heavy clouds that began to circle in the last hour. It shouldn’t take too long to get everything in order, but they should at least try to beat the rain.

Next thing she knew, she was pulling up behind the mechanics shop, and a familiar blond man props the back door open.

“Hey there, stranger!” Vivi calls as she shuffles out, quickly skipping to open the van’s back doors and keep them open. Arthurs footsteps trail up behind her, Vivi casts a small glance. “Are you excited?”

“A bit.” Arthur says, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. “Lance let me off early so I can prepare all my things, so it should be easy.”

“Nice!” Vivi beams, swiftly moving past him and making a beeline for the back door, whilst completely ignoring how Arthur looks up at the sky with a frown. “Wanna get the big stuff first?”

“Sure.”

Vivi was right, Arthur and her did wind up squished together in the front seat. Arthurs mattress, cork boards, and dresser were crammed in the back, and then surrounded by several boxes full of clothes, tools, and books. Although she did overestimate how much he actually had.

Arthur had managed to cram the entire van with everything he physically had. Stacked from floor the ceiling in haphazard and shaky towers besides and against the bed frame! Vivi would have to drive steadily to avoid a catastrophe.

In the front seat was Arthurs toolbox, a crate full of Galahad’s items, and then a small travel cage that he held in his own hand holding his hamster.

Arthur scoots over as much as he can, fidgeting a bit the more their thighs touch. Of course due to the lack of space, that led to a centimeter of room.

“Sorry about this, Vi,” he coughs into his hand, “I honestly thought that we wouldn’t be this cramped! I figured-“

Vivi blows a raspberry, scooting over herself so she was pressed against the door and offering up another centimeter. “No biggie! I’m glad we did it this way. Now we can get everything inside before we get hit with hail.”

“Hail? I thought it was just a thunderstorm!”

“I thought so too.” Vivi squeezes her hand into her pocket and whisks out her phone - which was partially damp from sweat. Wiping it off quickly, Vivi opens the weather app and lets Arthur snatch it.

He grimaces, “Yikes.”

“Yeah, better hope Lewis doesn’t get hit in the head when he comes home.”

“Or that the power goes out.” Arthur adds grimly. Vivi blows out another raspberry.

“I don’t think that’ll happen. Dont be such a sourpuss.”

“Wanna bet? It’ll be in character for whatever house we got.”

Vivi lifts an eyebrow, glancing over at him, “And whats that supposed to mean?”

Arthur’s smiling, and with a short shrug, “terrifying and haunted. Perfect atmosphere for a black out-”

“Nope!” Vivi barks back, wagging her finger intensely and shaking her head, “Lewis and I made absolute sure that there would be no ghosts in this house. I told you this.”

“Are you sure? You guys double checked? Triple checked?” Arthur probes, leaning forward and sticking his face into hers before retreating, making her laugh.

“Of course! I even had Mystery scope out the house, and there are no ghosts.”

“And if there is?”

Vivi shoots him a pointed, comedic look, “then you can add another.”

They both chuckle now, lightly elbowing one another. But soon after Arthur hums quietly and sinks back in his spot, a small smile crossing across his face as he watches the road ahead of them. He was convinced, perfect. Vivi gloated silently.

For a moment she’s tempted to turn the radio on to fill the silence, but Arthur suddenly turns to her inquisitively.

“Hey, so I never fully explored the house like you and Lewis did, mind filling me in on everything?”

A thrill of excitement rockets through Vivi and her head bounces in time with her, and she rapidly taps the steering wheel. “Okay so- it’s a fairly cheapish house for its size. It’s got a decent sized backyard, a nice sizable garage that can fit two cars and all of our equipment. And if it doesn’t, then we can just get a shed behind the garage to do so.” Vivi illustrates her point with her fingers, hoping that Arthur could follow along. “Lewis was actually talking about setting up a garden back there and- wait, never mind, back to the house. First and foremost, the most exciting aspect, there’s a basement!”

“Which is probably why you say it’s ‘cheap’?” Arthur says with a light snicker.

“Yeah! The guy didn’t charge us extra for the space- or the alcohol cellar! And I even went down there to check and everything seems up to code and in well order? I don’t know- we may have to worry about some floods, but we also live in the desert.”

“Right.”

“Next, we have like...” Vivi counts on her fingers three times before she holds up three fingers. “Three rooms! Two on the main level and one upstairs, but there’s also a closet on the main floor, along with a bathroom- and then one of the rooms actually has its own bathroom! Honestly I feel you should get that room, since you should have your own space and all that-“

Arthur opens his mouth to object, but Vivi doesn’t give him a chance.

“Lewis insisted that I got the upstairs bedroom and he can take the smallest- but! We haven’t decided on who gets what room just yet, so we got time to rock-paper-scissors it out. Moving on-“

Up ahead on the dirt road, a lonely-looking house with a tree along the side of it pops into view.

“There’s a nice sized kitchen, and while there isn’t a dining room, Lewis was thinking of converting some of the space into a dining room? I mean- he actually ordered a table online but it hasn’t shipped yet, so for now we’re going to be using my table. So get ready to be sitting on the floor for a while.”

Arthur rolls his eyes with a small laugh and nods, just as Vivi pulls into the driveway and into the backyard. Her eyes glaze for half a second as she parks the van.

“And... that’s it I think! There’s going to be a lot of setting up, but I think we can make it all work.”

“Yeah, besides we can always just eat in the livingroom amongst a sea of boxes while we figure things out. Although Lewis might flay us for suggesting that.”

Vivi chortles and nods, “Yeah! Yeah you aren’t wrong. But c’mon! Let’s get your stuff inside, I think Im hearing thunder.”

“Already?” Arthur glances up at the sky as Vivi throws open her door. She makes a mad dash for the back door, propping it open for them and waving to Mystery who was just out of sight. Arthur slinks out after her and carries Galahad inside.

“Okay so-“ Vivi doenst kick off her shoes but wipes them off on a mat that was placed at the back door, “since we haven’t chosen any rooms yet, Lewis and I agreed to put all of our stuff in the livingroom. Is that cool with you?”

“I - I mean it’s not like I have a choice, now do I?” Vivi winces and nods, and Arthur sighs. “Okay, we can leave the bigger stuff in the van for now then, but then let’s get the little stuff.”

“Good idea,” Vivi hooks his arm and pulls him further down the hall, passing two doors on either side of them and a stairway.

“Besides! If we have to camp out in the living-room then we can just pull out the bed in the couch and a couple of futons...”

Vivi freezes in the entrance of the living-room, jaw falling.

Arthur stops glancing around at the floorboards and then wallpaper and joins her, “Something wrong?”

Oh, something was wrong alright, and it hits them both like a bag of bricks the second they step in.

On the couch, Mystery was curled up and lightly chatting to a heavy set ghost. A ghost who drapes their arm across the couch snd sneers at them. ”Welcome to my humble abode.”

...

“What the fuck?”

Vivi flinched as she nearly feels Arthurs glare digging into her neck. Her own mouth went dry as it hits her all at once.

“I didn’t know- Arthur, I swear to god I thought there wasn’t a single ghost here. I promise.” Arthur’s face is still twisted in dismay, and she couldn’t really blame him. Twisting, Vivi points at Mystery and the dog jumps to attention.

“Back me up here! We both investigated this place top to bottom, he-“

”She.” the ghost hisses

”she- my bad- wasnt here, right?”

Mystery nods, folding his paws on the couch’s arm. “It’s true, Arthur, we had done the best we could and we honestly believed that there was no one else residing in this territory.” Mystery then casts a cursory glance back at the spirit, who nonchalantly drank from a a darkened glass, hardly sparing them a glance. “However, you know that experienced spirits can be excellent hiders. She merely concealed herself until now.”

Arthur let’s put a heavy breath that Vivi didn’t notice he was holding, before gently setting down Galahad’s cage. A stark contrast to the rapid twitch in his eyelid.

“Great! Fantastic. So why did she decide to hide?”

”Im right here.” The ghost suddenly says, casting a dirty look that both spoke profanity and exuded grace.

“Okay,” unaffected, Arthur side steps until he was able to face her himself, “then I’m sure you don’t mind telling us why you’ve been squatting here.”

Her eyes snap open, before her face twists with menace and she unfolds her crossed legs, slamming her glass down with a sharp clink. Arthur flinches as that sound shoots through him.

”’Squatting?’ My, those are some awfully bold words for someone who started trembling the second you entered my domain.” She rises, and despite how short she was compared to Arthur, she trapped him in her shadow. ”This is my home, and no bank can simply give away my property to measly little rats.”

“He-hey now, ma’am,” Vivi steps in front of Arthur, who’s hands immediately latch onto her shoulders, “look, this is a misunderstanding on our part. You see- my friend here is a medium, and he’s been ... tormented by a lot of spirits. So he agreed to live here under the assumption that there were no spirits. You can understand why he’s upset, right?”

”And you can understand that so am I, correct?”

Groaning lightly, Mystery hops off the couch and also stands between the two groups, lazily guarding as if nothing was really wrong.

“Of course! This is your home... can you describe to us how? So that way we can respect your boundaries and ensure no other issues occur?”

Arthurs fingers tightly grip Vivi’s shoulder, and she reaches up and pats them lightly.

Thankfully, the ghost seems pleased with the pseudoapology, and their shoulders relax by a fraction. ”I built this house, a ways away from my old home so that way I can have the luxury of peace and quiet. It was an expensive project, but one I carry pride in. I simply couldn’t leave my home to just anyone after I perished.”

Arthur creaks, “S-so you.. stick around?”

”Precisely. I ensure that no punks come in and try to take claim to what isnt theres.” That is marked by a pointed glare at Arthur, who shrinks back behind Vivi further. Regretting his choices up until now.

Blowing out the breath she was holding, Vivi forces a smile and claps lightly. “Alright! Then, what can we do to show you that we mean no harm? Or will we be thrown out regardless.”

With this, she chuckles, voice getting low and almost purring. ”You will have to prove yourself, and earn a place in my hearth. If you cannot do so by the end of the month, then I will make your lives a living hell until you run for the hills.”

”Great..”

“Awesome!” Vivi claps again to hide the bemoaned muttering. Taking a few steps forward- and incidentally dragging Arthur with her- she holds out her hand to the spirit.

“Well I hope you wish us luck. My name is Vivi, and this is Arthur.” Arthur coughs lightly and nods a greeting, but keeps his mouth shut.

The woman blinks calmly, taking in Vivi’s hand with a surprised consideration, before smiling herself and taking it in a firm handshake.

”The pleasure is mine. Address me as Lilith Primrose.”

“Oh~ that’s a lovely name you have there!” Vivi offers, smiling brightly.

”Thank you. I picked it myself.”

Vivi nods and release her hand, stepping back. “So.. I know we got off to a rough start, but do you mind if me and Arthur bring his stuff in? It’s going to rain soon and we still will be moving in-“

A crack of thunder fills the air, Arthur and her both flinch, before turning to Lilith for confirmation. Who then rolls her eyes and shoos them away.

”Like I said, you all have a month to come into my good grace. You better get started now.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Vivi grabs Arthurs wrist and pulls him down the hall, lightly scolding him and apologizing at the same time, but also letting him do the same back.

It’s what she deserves honestly...

Within fifteen minutes, the rain had started to sprinkle. They decided the best thing to do was to get the largest items - the mattress- inside first so it wouldn’t get drenched, but that left the cork boards and the bed frame, which they decided may be better to keep in the van to protect the integrity and quality. Then they spent the next half an hour racing back and forth with various boxes that they decided to dump into what was now Arthurs room- the bedroom closest to the back with a bathroom. Vivi opted to stack his boxes on the mattress while Arthur simply tossed them onto the floor- claiming he knew they weren’t going to break as easily.

After an hour, it was pouring in sheets. The last of the boxes were quickly abandoned in Arthurs room, and both of them tore into one of the boxes to fetch towels to dry themselves off.

“Jesus Christ..” Vivi huffs, ringing out her skirt into one of the incredibly damp towels. “I feel bad for Lewis, he still has to drive home in this.”

“Yeah, poor fuck.” Arthur groans lightly and rubs his eyes, “brace yourself, turning on the light,” Palming the wall until he hit the light switch, Arthur prays that they’ll be given just one thing.

Only... for the room to remain just as dark.

Vivi looks at him for a moment as he stares in befuddlement at the switch, which he rapidly flipped on and off. Muttering to himself, ”oh come on...”

“Hold up, maybe the wiring is funky?” Vivi offers, stepping over boxes and opening the bathroom door, and she quickly flips the switches herself.

Nothing.

“Fuck.”

The power was still out as the storm persisted. Even when Lewis came home drenched from the walk to the porch from his car.

Of course, that wasn’t going to stop them. They were plenty prepared with gas canisters, spare batteries, flashlights, candles, and a gas stove.

Lewis made a remark on how glad he was that they only seemed to have meats in the fridge, but those comments slowly dwindled as he got to work making spaghetti by candle light. Vivi set out to line the kitchen’s low table with several of her unscented candles. As much as she wanted to bust out her various sweet smelling ones, the boys asked her to refrain so not mess with their senses.

Which wasn’t an issue by any means! Vivi didn’t want to dig them out anyway...

“Alright, that should do it.” Lewis murmurs to himself as he turns off the burner and grabs his tongs, pulling out the cooked noodles and layering them on three separate plates. He calls over his shoulder, “Arthur, Vivi! Dinner is ready.”

A distant “Coming!” And then frantic footsteps fight against the sound of the rain outside, and Lewis covers the noodles in their sauce before turning and placing them on Vivi’s low table. Vivi comes in with flat pillows and places them in their respective spots before kneeling and taking her spot.

“Thank you Lewis~ this smells really good.” She says, wafting in the garlic and onion at her face with a dramatic sniff. Just in time for Arthur to trail in with Mystery at his side.

Mystery scans the plates, before frowning at Lewis.

Lewis raises an eyebrow and smirks, “What? You can’t eat this, remember.”

“You and I know very well that I can eat more than all of you combined.” The dog shoots back, plopping down beside Vivi who scratches his ear.

“Well it’s not good for you.” Lewis points out, before reaching beside him and pulling out a plate of Mystery’s gourmet doggy dinner. “Now are you going to keep complaining or eat?”

“Oooh~” Vivi grins and pats mystery’s head, “Youre this close to missing out on greatness, boy! Better shut your trap.”

Mystery did indeed shut his trap, quickly scuttling over to Lewis’s side to retrieve his bowl- licking his lips to avoid showing how much he was salivating at the smell.

Arthur takes his seat on his bottom than his knees. Rolling his fork through the noodles slowly, but not saying anything, even as Vivi and Lewis chat as he grabs drinks.

It’s only when Vivi shoves a heaping of spaghetti into her mouth and moans in delight does he realize that they need something else. Lewis froze in his tracts, wincing the smallest bit as Vivi chews. She’s been hungry all day, so it makes sense that she would rather dig in- Mystery too.

Poor guys misophonia has got to be going crazy.

“Hey, do you guys want to watch howls moving castle? Or - uh.. spirited away?” Lewis and Vivi both shoot him inquisitive looks, although Lewis relaxes the smallest bit at the distraction. Arthur adds on, tapping his earlobe, “I can also grab your ear plugs, Lew. So that way the ... sounds don’t bother you too much.”

Lewis’s lips tighten. Oh shit, he probably didn’t want to embarrass Vivi-

A loud gasp and smack grabs both of their attention. Vivi stopped chewing, a hand over her mouth as she realized. Swallowing everything down in one gulp, Vivi gestures frantically in apologize. “Shit- Lewis I’m sorry. I can grab your ear plugs if you want? It totally slipped my mind.”

He lifts his hand, smiling sweetly. “It’s okay, I’ll go grab them. But yes, Arthur, I certainly wouldn’t mind a movie.”

Still flushed, Vivi nods too, “the rain will be a nice backdrop to a beautiful Ghibli movie. Do you need the disk?”

“No,” Arthur pushes himself up, “I got it downloaded on my computer. I’ll go grab it.”

He and Lewis both leave the kitchen, and he turns to go to his room, a small flashlight in hand to light the way.

It was already unpacked, plugged into a battery pack and charging for the past few hours. Arthur whisks it up and ambles back to the kitchen, where Lewis and Vivi were talking again. Good! Lewis is situated, now time to pull up the movie. Holding it one arm, Arthur input his password, searches through his hard drive...

But before he steps back into the kitchen, a soft flow catches his eye.

Lilith is sitting on the couch still, possibly had been for a while now, but either no one noticed or no one choose to bother her in the dark.

He watches her for a few moments, filling with guilt and momentary fear over earlier...

Then he sighs, resigning himself, and he steps into the kitchen and sets the computer down. Instead of getting back in his spot to turn on the movie, Arthur shuffles to the cabinet and fetches another plate.

“What are you up to, Artie?”

“Going to feed some raccoons?” Vivi jokes, even as Lewis makes a disgruntled noise at the thought.

“No, just give me one moment, okay?”

Arthur can feel them watching him, but he sucks in his breath and layers noodles and sauce onto a plate, before fetching a fork.

And then leaving the kitchen again, this time making a beeline for the couch.

Lilith hears him coming and gives him a cursory glance. Her eyes widen as she takes note of the plate as it’s set down beside her.

Clearing his throat, Arthur grips his hands together anxiously and forces himself to keep eye contact. “A-about earlier.. I’m sorry that I snapped on you. It... I hope we can get along.”

Lilith doesn’t say anything, looking from him to the plate.

She stands, nods, and turns on her heel to go to the basement door, vanishing before she even touched it.

...

Well fuck you too then. Arthur scowls lightly, huffing the smallest bit after she was out of sight. There’s nothing he can do now, and it’s up to her to decide if she wants to accept his apology.

Whatever, just go and eat dinner.

He takes his spot. While he was offering the meal, Vivi had found the movie and paused it before it began to play, and Lewis had already plugged his ears. He sends Arthur a thumbs up and a thankful smile. Arthur nods in return and grabs his fork to eat.

The movie started, and the atmosphere was both warm and comfortable, especially with the four of them enraptured in the unfolding plot. Spouting small ideas and pointing out little details, along with memories and theories.

The conversation only came to a halt when someone else clears their throat.

Vivi pauses the movie in an instant, and all four of them look up to see Lilith standing before them. Her face contorted in worry as she grips... a wine bottle. Lilith shrinks a bit at the sudden attention, but she clears her throat a second time and holds the bottle out a small bit.

“C... congratulations you four, you passed my test. I am looking forward to living with you all, and to celebrate, I wanted you to have some of my aged wine.” She stammers a bit, shifting anxiously from side to side, before setting the bottle down with a hefty clank. After doing so, she turns to leave.

Vivi, however, jumps up and latches onto her sleeve, pulling her back the smallest bit and earning a wide eyed stare.

Vivi beams back at her, “We’re watching some movies, would you like to join us?”

Lilith blinks rapidly, glancing between all of them, and being met with gentle smiles and affirmations.

”I... of course, I’d love to. Let me grab my plate! Oh- and some glasses. What are we going to be watching?”

Lilith shuffles beside Lewis, and the five of them all continue watching, sipping some tasty wine and eating their food peacefully.

They didn’t even notice that the rain died down and the power was back on until they were heading to bed

[lo-55]

Broken Wings

By all rights, the scars shouldn’t have existed in the first place. Ace x Marco   

 By all rights, the scars shouldn’t have existed in the first place. Ace x Marco

Ace first noticed the mark before he was Whitebeard’s son. Or, more accurately, before he knew he was one of his sons. Back when everyone who was not named Portgas D. Ace had already accepted that he was a part of the family, and was just being difficult at this point.

Ace had a lot of hiding places on the ship. He’d found at least a dozen in the week he’d been their captive, small slates that could be safely removed and revealed enough space for a young man to squeeze in, storage rooms that were barely used, and one particular closet that housed the spare sails. He could hide away all day, until his stomach demanded that he steal food or he had a new plan to try and take the old man’s head.

Frustratingly, no matter where he went, Marco could always find him. Was he a phoenix or a freaking bloodhound?

Ace had hoped that his latest hiding place would remedy that.

After all, who would look in their own window seat for a captive?

Ace muffled a snicker at his own cleverness and settled against the wood, safe behind the curtains that Marco kept drawn. Ace wasn’t sure why Marco had the box with the window in it, which gave the best view of the seas. The window’s even had a latch, unlike anything Ace had seen on a ship before. Most rooms only had a porthole, if that, and they definitely didn’t open.

The young man was very smug, settled in and waiting. Let Marco find him now!

Ace woke up from that thought sometimes around sunset, the narcoleptic attack ending as quick as it came. He looked out, watching the sun burn across the horizon as it sank into the waves. Orange melted down in the water, molten fire. Ace breathed in the dying warmth, drawing it into his veins.

The door opened with a soft clock, so minute Ace almost missed it. He stiffened, barely daring breath. Had Marco found him?

Even if he had, it wasn’t like Ace had gone snooping through his things. He’d just sat himself in the window and taken an unwilling nap. He hadn’t gone through the carefully stacked manila folders, or pulled open the drawers in the desk. He hadn’t gone riffling through the closet, or even touched his sheets.

Ace waited a few minutes before he carefully parted the curtains, just enough to peak out.

Marco was facing away from him, dropping his lilac shirt into a hamper. He reached for the blue one he had already laid out, stretching the scar on his back.

It was bad, ugly, stretching from beneath the sash at his hips up to his shoulder blades and back. The cut that had made it was too jagged for it to have been done cleanly, or with any skill, and it was clearly done with the intent to hurt, mock.

Ace pulled his face back, suddenly sick with the feeling of intruding. He waited until Marco had left the room to sneak out, running off to hide somewhere else. He didn’t go back to the window box. He had already seen more than he was meant to.

~                                                 ~                                ~

The second time Ace saw it was at an onsen on a winter island that was under their protection. They had gone to celebrate Ace finally becoming Whitebeard’s son. It was a lavish affair, and after the party wound down everyone parted ways. Some went back to the ship, some went to see what the local girls thought of pirate boys. Ace decided to try the water out.

Now, he may not have always been the most strategic of thinkers, but Ace was, by no means, stupid. Impulsive, reckless, bullheaded even, but not stupid. So when he decided he wanted to soak in the hot water, he grabbed the nearest person to him, who happened to be Marco, and declared,

“Take a bath with me.”

To which he received a slightly more open eyed stare than usual. Marco went back to his sleepy expression a second later.

“No,” he said blandly. Ace frowned, about to argue, when he remembered the macabre decoration carved into his new brother’s back.

“Then watch me take one,” he countered instead. Marco stared at him again, until Ace realized his mistake. Face heating, he smacked the bird. “Not like that! If I fall asleep in the water, I’ll drown.”

“Then stay out of the water, yoi,” Marco reasoned. He hadn’t even flinched for Ace’s blow.

Ace made a face at the older pirate, face scrunched up like a bulldog trying to get a biscuit.

Marco snorted at him and the lines of his face eased into a softness that made Ace’s stomach curl delightfully around itself. He swallowed back a lump trying to form in his throat, eyes wider.

“Alright, alright,” Marco waved his hand. “I’ll make sure you don’t drown.”

Ace positively beamed at him. He threw an arm around his brother, dragging the taller man into him. To his credit Marco didn’t stumble, just leaned down at little to make up for the different in their height.

“You’re the best!” he told the phoenix, handing him the praise a few inches from his face. Marco, lackadaisy as ever, poked Ace’s hat a few inches higher.

“Just start walking, yoi.”

Ace did, his arm migrating from being looped around Marco’s neck to his arm. If Marco thought anything about how childish Ace was, he didn’t mention it.

Both of them had a room to themselves, but Ace went to his for the sake of actually knowing where that was. The rooms were already impressive enough, especially to someone who’d grown up the way Ace had, but more than the wide space or the fine paintings on the wall, more than the well stuffed cushions around the small table or the silk sheets over the mats, the baths were grand.

A hot spring, each expensive suite accompanied by one, bubble up from the ground with water that bordered on scalding. Rich minerals rolled through the stone with the water that filled the bath, big enough to hold five men, let alone two. A tree swung it’s low branches down near the water, causing ripples where it brushed. The whole thing was bordered with a powdery snow fall that hadn’t quite melted yet.

Ace stripped, shameless in front of another man, and tossed his clothes carelessly into the corner before he slipped into the water.

On anyone else it would have been too hot to simply jump into. For a man made out of fire, it was just warm enough to sink into his skin and feel pleasantly warm.

A soft, contented sigh escaped him. He hadn’t realized until then the kind of pressure he’d been under, constantly anxious, waiting for someone to get sick of him and attack. Constantly weary of where he was, who was around and what was in his food. Always truing to come up with a way to kill Whitebeard, even surrounded by a ship of people who kill and die for him.

Ace’s head lolled back. His chest caved in with the built up stress finally being released.

Long fingers slid into his hair, drawing dark eyes open to look up at Marco’s droopy eyed stare. A small tug and a soft ‘thump’ sounded behind his head.

“You still have your hat on,” he explained. Ace hummed and leaned into the fingers. It felt nice, being touched like that. Luffy had been all about physical contact, but there was something different between his little brother clinging to him at every opportunity and Marco taking the time to make sure he didn’t hurt his most valuable possession, some foreign in the gentle way his fingertips touched Ace’s scalp.

“Thanks,” he remembered his manners, at least. When Marco’s touched wandered from his head to his shoulders, to one of the arms Ace had stretched out on either side of him, he did nothing to stop it. Not even when his fingers found the familiar crossbones over the extra letter in his name.

Ace looked at Marco’s face, waiting for the inevitable question. A question that never came.

Marco pulled his hand back to himself, to Ace’s disappointment. On impulse, Ace grabbed it before it was out of reach.

Marco glanced at him.

“Yes? He prompted.

Ace paused. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Are you sure you don’t want in?” he asked again, fully expecting denial.

When Marco sighed and pulled his hand back to take off his shirt, Ace was stunned. He hadn’t actually expected for Marco to join him, but here he was, stripping down. Ace would be lying of he said he didn’t watch him, letting his eyes wander down the man's legs, up over his chest, and higher until he met a smug smile and dark eyes.

Ace’s face heated quickly and he looked away, sinking down in the water. Shit.

“Like what you see?” Marco teased, easing himself in across from Ace. The younger man didn’t miss the way he kept his back to him.

“Eat me,” Ace replied, eloquence personified.

Marco snorted and sunk in to his shoulders, tilting his head back and letting out a groan that had to be intentional. Ace decided then that Marco was a dick.

“I didn’t say it before, yoi,” Marco said some minute later, “But welcome home, brother. We’re glad you found us.”

Ace flushed warmly, a goofy smile spreading across his face. That same warmth curled in his stomach once more, Marco met his smile with a half one of his own.

“I’m glad I didn’t get a lucky shot in and kill the old- and kill Pops,” he tested the word, rolling it around in his mouth. His father. Ace hadn’t known how much he needed one until he had one, and now he didn’t think he could ever let go of the feeling of being someone’s son. Someone other that him.

Marco laughed, long and hard. Ace’s face only got hotter.

“You were never going to kill him, you know,” he said, without the mocking bite that Ace expected for trying to murder the strongest man in the world, on at least twenty seven different occasions. He sighed heavily.

“I do now!” Ace tilted his head back against the stone, slightly cooler than the water, and closed his eyes.

He woke up when he found himself being jostled, picked up out of the water and slung over Marco’s shoulder like he weighed nothing at all.

Dark eyes blinked a few times before they focussed on his butt, then quickly migrated to the scars mutilating his back. Ace swallowed a sudden wave of nausea and anger. They were even worse close up, horribly detailed in their depiction. It made his stomach roil with the desire to burn whoever had done it to ashes.

He pressed his face into Marco’s back, so he wouldn’t have to see, and wrapped his arms around his chest and an awkward hug. It drew a soft laugh from the man carrying him.

“Go back to sleep,” he advised for the first time, “I won’t let you drown.”

Ace had no doubt about that. He obeyed and closed his eyes.

~                                           ~                                       ~    

Ace saw it again weeks later, though he didn’t ask about it.

When he ran his hands down Marco’s ribs and lay his lips across his chest, Marco let him push the shirt off. The fire in his veins roared to life and he tumbled into the bed, letting Marco roll them until he was hovering above Ace, kissing his hard. Ace thought he could drown like that, kissing Marco, grasping at his shoulders, sinking his nails into his arms.

They tumbled, pressed against each other, kicking up a ruckus that settled more than a few bets.

Ace found himself laid out of his back, grinning like mad at the ceiling. His head was hazy, his skin was steadily cooling even as Marco ran his palm across Ace’s stomach, reaching a small scar that slid between his ribs, barely an inch across.

Ace didn’t have to look to know the one his fingers had paused on.

“They took me by surprise, before I ate the fruit,” he said without prompting. “Probably the closest I’ve ever come to dying. And it’s tiny!”  

“Right into your lung,” Marco agreed. His fingers moved on, to a slightly larger mark, much more faded, on his chest. He tapped it, drumming his fingers over the three slashes. “Feline?”

“Giant tiger,” Ace confirmed. “I was like, eleven? It looked smaller from in the tree…”

Marco laughed at him and leaned down to look him in the eyes. “How don’t you have more scars?”

“Luck? Stubbornness? I don’t have your healing factor,” he elbowed Marco playfully. Still, Marco had scars of his own. Worse than any of the ones Ace had ever seen before, and he’d seen some shit.

His thoughts must have showed on his face for some of the calm bliss Marco had been exuding dissipated. His smile faded, his sleepy eyes dimmed and he rolled, snatching his shirt off of the floor. Ace watched him, letting the horrible image on Marco’s back burn into his retina.

Ace could still picture it even after he’d dressed and walked out the door.

~                                             ~                                              ~

The fourth time, Ace couldn’t help it.

Marco had, for once, slept in. Ace had volunteered to go get him. He didn’t see anything wrong with it. He even knocked, softly, before he poked his head inside. There wasn’t much room for shame on a pirate ship. So Ace walked in, paused at the doorway, and stared.

Marco had fallen face first onto his bed and was out cold, his shoulders moving steadily with each breath. Up, down, up, down. His lilac shirt lay crumpled under his arms, his pants hung uselessly over the edge of the bed, leaving him in nothing save his boxers.

Green, Ace noted idly as he approached on soft feet.

He stood at Marco’s side, looking down his long body. As strong as he was, the man was light enough for most of them to lift with one hand. A side effect of being part bird, Ace figured.

The scars stretched across his back, before Ace’s eyes. It made him sick. His fingers itched, drawing to lay feather-light across the horrible fresco painted into Marco’s skin. He followed the curve that wrapped across his shoulder blades, down his ribs, to his lower back.

“Who hurt you?” he breath the question to the air.

“I haven’t always been Whitebeards son, you know.”

Ace snatched his hand back like he’d been burned, head snapping down to look at Marco’s face. Even though his smile was amused it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You’re awake,” he wanted to smack himself for such a stupid statement. Marco just smiled at him, indulgent.

“Hand me my pants,” he pointed, “And I’ll tell you a story.”

Ace grabbed them and handed them over, stomach clenching in a way that nothing to do with the way the ocean rolled under their feet. Marco sat up and pulled his pants on, threading his favorite sash through them when Ace gave it over without needing to be asked.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Ace warned him.

“I know,” Marco assured. He didn’t reach for his shirt quite yet. Ace watched his face, not his back or his shoulders. Focused on the lines of his face instead of the marring on his back.

Ace waited in silence for Marco to do on. When he did, it was a credit to his skills that he sounded exactly the same way he always did. Unbothered by anything.

“Not all pirate’s work the way we do. Not all crews are a family, or even a group of friends. Some of them are cobbled together by desperate people, or bound as one by force and fear,” Marco looked at the window, not at Ace. “We were formed before Gol D. Roger started this age of piracy. It was a dark time, for the world and for me. The captain found use for me, for my abilities and my adaptation. I made a good shield in a fight, and I was too young to understand what he was doing to be wrong. What boy wouldn’t do anything to protect their ‘father’?”

Ace swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn’t dare say anything.  

“Someone shot through me once, though, and hit him in the leg. He found a fitting punishment. He made sure I couldn’t forget my failure. If I didn’t know what seastone did before, I certainly did after.”

“Marco…” Ace didn’t know what to say. So he kissed him, long a slow. Trying to explain what he didn’t have the words to say. That his father was a piece of shit. That that wasn’t his father, Whitebeard was. That Ace was glad he was here and would fight anyone who tried to hurt him again.

Marco kissed him back, smiling against his lips. Ace wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. He let his hands slide up, across the mangled skin. A heat burned in his chest, fury at the man who had done that, love for the man it was laid upon.

Ace let Marco push him back onto the bed, fingers ghosting across his back. A fire ignited around them, blue and red warring as the two pirates grasped at each other desperately, feelings burning into skin.

As blue flames wrapped around him, Ace chased away the memory of the wings on Marco’s back.

He let himself be consumed by the fire.

[dralf0yy]

Come Back || G.W x Reader

A/N: This is really just based off some scenes from Descendants 3 that i thought was a lil angsty🤡 and it’s kind of an AU? Where like the muggleborns were separated from the purebloods by a barrier across the black lake instead of VKs and Royals

Summary: Y/n Y/l/n is a muggleborn witch who has trouble with fitting in. She finds an old potions book and one potion seems to catch her eye. It worked, but as they say, ‘All good things must come to an end’

Warnings: Swearing (not too bad tho)

Word count: 2.5k

Masterlist

For many centuries, muggleborn and pureblood (and halfblood) wizards and witches were separated by a barrier, just by the edge of the lake.

Purebloods got the perfect life at Hogwarts while we muggleborns, or ‘mudbloods’ as they would say, got left to live and go to school in the ruins of the previous wizarding war across the lake. It was all like that up until you and your small group of friends were chosen to attend Hogwarts. You thought the negativity in your life would cease

But you thought wrong

People still didn’t accept you due to your muggle parents being the ones to almost expose the entire wizarding world. The muggleborns didn’t appreciate the fact that their families had to be obliviated because of that but they came around eventually.

Unfortunately, it was a bit harder for the purebloods, and you didn’t fit in at Hogwarts. The Y/L/N name wasn’t very popular around the wizarding world since the incident

But when you met George Weasley and his siblings, they welcomed you like they had known you forever, despite the fact that you were a Slytherin, and you grew close

You and George started dating 6 months after you came to Hogwarts but you kept it a secret until the completion of the 1st year.

But things just got worse from there. More people would just send you dirty glares or whisper things about you in the halls because they think you put him under some spell

Everyone seemed to have a thing against you, even the professors. Snape even gave you detention this afternoon and took away 30 points, despite him being your head of house, for talking out of turn

*

You were just about to finish organising the books in Snape’s dusty old cupboard when one fell wide open onto the floor

You picked it up and glanced at the description of the potion on the page.

‘makes the affected become under the influence of having a platonic liking for the brewer. This will only work if they aren’t already like that’

Your eyes went wide. You had found a solution to all your problems (most of them anyway) in this book that belonged to the ‘Halfblood Prince’.

You shrugged, ignoring the name of someone who must’ve been some self-absorbed git, and folded the corner of the page to bookmark it

You went back to organising the last of the books and bolted out of there towards the girls’ lavatory on the 2nd floor, which you learned no one went into cause of Moaning Myrtle, with the worn out potions book in your clutch

You had arrived in such a hurry and had startled Myrtle upon your arrival but you were too focused on gathering your equipment to listen to her annoying rambling

You collected your things from the 2nd to last stall and began brewing the potion whilst thinking of a way to bribe the house elves to put it in the food for the feast

The substance in the cauldron started to boil and bubble up. You carefully poured some into a somewhat large dropper bottle and cleaned up your things.

You shoved the old potions book into my bag without thinking and walked out and towards the entrance to the kitchens

*

It worked!

It had been around a day since you managed to get the potion in everyone’s food

You were walking down the corridor whilst looking for a particular mop of red hair to spend your free period with and noticed that you weren’t receiving the usual negative remarks, but instead friendly glances and soft smiles

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice a certain redhead sneaking up behind you

An arm wrapped around you and a hand went over your eyes. You jumped being obviously startled but giggled when you realised that it was just George

“Hey Georgie, lost your other head have you?” You teased as he retracted and made his way around to your side

He chuckled, “Fred’s with Lee, they’re scheming”

“And you aren’t involved? Bit suspicious isn’t it?” You playfully narrowed your eyes

“Oh don’t be so anxious, love. I just wanted to spend some time with you out by the lake. I heard that someone has a little something set up there for someone very special. Oh and of course there’s you” He snorted while you smacked his arm

You rolled your eyes, “Well come on then, wouldn’t want it getting ruined by some reckless first years now would we?”

“Well of course not-”

“LAST ONE THERE IS A BOGEY FLAVOURED BEAN!” You yelled and sprinted backwards out the doors, so you could look at George

“HEY THAT’S NOT FAIR, I WASN’T READY- WOAH” he loudly whined while he tripped over a sketchy looking patch of grass, landing face first onto the ground

You cackled at the sight and fell onto the damp ground, clutching your stomach. George looked up at you from where his face was just buried with a small playful grimace lingering on his face

He walked over to your shaking figure and picked you up and threw you over his shoulder and you shrieked

“George you git put me down! I’m not a sack of potatoes” You wheezed out

“I will when we get to where the stuff is set up”

It wasn’t long until he set you down onto a soft, yellow and white spotted mat with your favourite food and sweets laying on top.

Your mouth was agape and George gave you a lopsided grin that was full of love and adoration

The playful atmosphere dissipated as you stared into each other’s eyes

“This is beautiful Georgie, but what’s it for?” You breathed out, almost too quiet for anyone to hear

“Well, I noticed how everyone has started to be a lot nicer towards you and I just wanted to show you how proud I was of you. Even though you had nothing to do with it,” George smiled, “Besides being the most amazing person ever” he continued

“Hm, such a suck up, Mr.Weasley. I’m starting to think ol’ weatherby is a bad influence on you” You teased and he softly chuckled, going on with his little speech

“I just.. I know how hard it was for you to cope with all the bullying and I’m especially proud of you for not giving into everyone’s bullshit.”

You shifted your gaze down at the mat and played with the hem of your jumper

A thing you did when you were keeping a secret or lying

“I didn’t seem to notice actually,”

Lies

“But now that you mention it, yeah, everyone has been nicer recently” You smiled and George sheepishly beamed back at you

“Anyways, back to the picnic,” George gave a wide cheeky grin, “Let’s dig in, I’m starving” He exclaimed and rubbed his hands together

You snorted at his childlike behaviour coming back whilst he dug into a fried chicken leg

*

You were absolutely stuffed, and judging by the way that George was splayed out on the mat, he was too.

There was a comfortable silence, besides students chatting and laughing in the small distance, until George sat up and blurted out,

“I just remembered! I have something to give you. It’s in my bag” You snickered

He got up and started going through his bag when realisation dawned over you

his bag was under your head

You abruptly sat up in horror remembering the potions book that you carelessly threw in there, “George wait that’s my-”

“What the- I don’t take potions. This must be yours” He gives you a sheepish smile and you let out a breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding in when he went to put the book away

He stopped his actions and mischievously smirked

“Ooh, bookmarked a page have you? Must be interesting then” He smirked and opened the book to the page it was bookmarked at

Your sense of relief was gone once again and you froze, scared of how he would react

His face contorted into a confused expression as he read out, “makes the affected become under the influence of having a platonic liking for the brewer..?”

Your heart felt like it was breaking out of your rib cage

“Y/n what.. Did you use this?” His eyes snapped up from the page to look at you

“I-no. Yes- maybe?” You couldn’t think straight. Your mind was getting clouded with doubtful thoughts

‘What if he breaks up with me?’

‘Will he hate me?’

“Y/n!” You flinched a bit at the sudden noise

“Are you even paying attention to me?” George huffed when you shook your head

“I was saying that you could get expelled for this,” he started to raise his voice, “What the bloody hell were you thinking?!” You flinched again, this time a bit more obvious than the last

“George.. please don’t yell at me- I meant well— You know that” You pleaded

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t stupid, Y/n-” You cut him off when you snatched the book from his clutch

You had enough and you snapped

“This doesn’t concern you, George. I had to do this. You wouldn’t understand, you’ve got a perfect life because you’re a pureblood” You stood up and grabbed the remainder of your stuff

George sighed, “I don’t know if you’ve realised, Y/n, the reason we took you in was because we were like you- are like you. We weren’t accepted by everyone because we’re not as rich as every other pureblood family. We knew how it felt so we took you in. Blood status doesn’t matter. And it would be bloody great when you realise that” he retorted

“Me? The reason I used that potion was because all people see me as is a muggleborn,”

A mudblood

A burden

A waste of space

“And I don’t know if you’ve realised, George, no one cares if you’re not as wealthy as the other pureblood families. The only people that really seem to have something against you are the people in my house. I’ve got them and the rest of the bloody school to deal with” You seethed at the redhead, whose face and neck had gone maroon from the anger building up inside him

You couldn’t handle being around anyone, especially George, so you ran. You ran as fast as you could and you were gonna keep going to until you bumped into Hermione, your best friend

Meanwhile, George had stomped back to the Gryffindor common room whilst muttering, “I can’t believe I trusted her. Probably has me under some spell like everyone else says”

Fred was sitting on one of the lounges playing a game of exploding snap with Ron, when he noticed George’s irritated demeanour

“What’s got your wand in a knot, Georgie? Troubles in paradise?” He teased, earning an unsatisfied huff from George

“Shove off, Fred” he retorted

“Ah so I was right. What seems to be the problem my dear brother” Fred calmly asked in contrast to George’s snappy behaviour

George sighed and frustratedly ran his hand through his soft hair, “Y/n put a potion in everyone’s food to make them like her. I trusted her Fred. I can’t even believe she had the nerve to put that into everyone’s food. What was she thinking?! It was reckless and stupid,” He paced and rambled

“It’s typical of her though. It’s what muggleborns would do-”

“-That’s too far George. You know muggleborns aren’t any different from us. She’s our best friend and your girlfriend. And so what if she put this one potion into everyone’s food? All she wanted was to finally stop getting bullied, it didn’t harm anyone” Fred sighed

“We put potions in people’s food for pranks and it doesn’t always turn out right. Yet, I don’t see Y/n getting mad at you and possibly ending your relationship because of it”

George scoffed, “You know I hate it when you’re right”

“All the more reason to be, Georgie. Now go you git. Find your girl” And with that, George bolted out of the portrait hole, out into the castle to find you

“I just don’t get it ‘Mione.. I thought out of all people, he would understand. But he didn’t understand at all and lashed out on me” You frowned and sat down on the grass by the edge of the lake

“Y/n.. George just doesn’t want anything bad happening, especially to you. He loves you and he doesn’t want you getting sent back over there anytime soon” Hermione begrudgingly replied, not entirely wanting to favour George over you

You didn’t say anything back, you just stared blankly at the other side of the lake thinking of going back. Maybe, just maybe, things would be much easier and better if you went back.

Better for George

He wouldn’t have to be burdened with having you around and having to be anxious about you slipping potions into food or be worried about being seen with you; A mudblood.

“He doesn’t have to worry about me getting sent back,” Hermione peered up from her book, intrigued by your response

“Because I won’t be sent back. I’ll be willingly going back. I don’t belong here, and I was stupid to believe that I wasn’t just a stupid mudblood. I was stupid to believe that anyone would ever really accept me here.” You spat and your anger and sadness resurfaced

“You’re planning on going back? What about our life here? I- What?” She stammered, unsure on what to do about your decision

“It’d be better for everyone else. I love you ‘Mione and I’ll miss you but I’m going back-”

“Well then I’m going with you.” She stood up and started to gather her books

“No, Hermione, I know how badly you wanted to come here to fulfill your dreams. I won’t let you throw all that away for me”

She looked at you with a solemn expression and sighed. She sat back down on the grass and looked up at you as if she expected you to sit with her

You resumed your place in the lush grass and leaned against her shoulder, “I’m gonna miss you y’know, but if this is the decision that you want to make then, I’ll support you all the way. We’ll tell McGonagall tomorrow” Hermione mumbled as you both looked out to the giant squid in the lake

“Don’t tell anyone else, please? I don’t want anyone to know that I’m leaving..” You trailed off as the reality of your decision was finally sinking in

“I won’t. Just promise me you’ll come back? Because you most definitely belong here, Hogwarts is for all witches and wizards, pureblood or not”

“I promise.”

********

Tags: @paigeyisme @slytherinlovesgryffindor @cleopatera

A/N: SO THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE I’M SO SORRY AND IT’S A LITTLE BIT ALL OVER THE PLACE BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY!

- E

[shelli-gator]

Maurice and Clover’s reaction to Julien and Pancho dating would be hilarious 🤣

WHEEZE, honestly it would be! I wanted to make a little comic for it, but I figured this would convey it a bit better, if you feel like reading it :D <3 it just makes me soft.

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“Are you havin’ a laugh?!”

Maurice had braced himself for that, and yet the sheer volume of Clover’s voice over the headset is enough to make him flinch, curling in on himself. Fumbling with the microphone he throws a frantic glance over his shoulder, lifting the headset away to keep one of his ears pricked for signs he’s been overheard.

But the rest of the plane is blissfully silent, at least for now, and he brings the mic close to his mouth, murmuring carefully, “You really think I would joke about this?”

There’s the unmistakable sound of growling on the other end, followed by the indistinct sound of Sage’s mellow voice somewhere in the background, undoubtedly leveling her with some obscure metaphor about the all consuming flame of her anger, but the Queen of the mountain lemurs continues regardless, barking into his ears.

“One month, Maurice-”

“Clover, I know-”

“I’ve been gone for all of one month,” She seethes, and Maurice pinches the bridge of his nose, grimacing, “I’m coming over. Now. Sage, get your hawk!”

“Wait wait wait!”  The Aye-Aye almost jumps right out of his fur, almost dropping the mic again in his panic, “Is that really necessary?”

“What?!”

He pauses at that, his thoughts catching up with his racing mouth. He brings a paw up to rub at his brow, bushy brows arched high, “Believe it or not, they’re… actually doing pretty okay! From what I can tell, at least.”

“Are we talking about the same Pancho? You know, the felon.”

Maurice winces at the word, as if it could carry into the next room. Knowing his luck, it would, and they’d both never hear the end of it “Please, please don’t remind me. Yes, that Pancho. But.”

“But?”

“I mean,” Maurice rubs the back of his neck, mulling over his choice of words, “You gotta admit, the guy really pulls through, even if his methods are… er, dubious at best.”

“Dubious. Heh. Yeah, that’s one way of putting it, yeah. Not exactly the word I’d use, but it’ll do.”

Before he can attempt any more assurances, there’s a shout of exasperation from the other room, and the royal advisor bristles, teeth gritted

“Pancho, come on man!”

“What?!”

“What was that?” Clover demands on the other end, and Maurice covers the mic with a paw, peeking his head out from behind the curtains of the flight attendants cubicle he hides in to look around the corner.

At this time of night the plane should be shrouded in darkness, but numerous candles and the light of the full moon outside is enough to light up the rows of seats leading to the back. And thus it’s easy enough to spot King Julien the 13th and Pancho nearby, the latter sprawled out in a show of relaxation on one of the seats, chin propped up on the heel of his paw. Julien glares at him from around his canvas, and from here Maurice can make out what he can only assume is some Lovecraftian horror that’s only vaguely depicted in Pancho’s likeness, neither lounging nor in a seat.

Oy vey.

“You’re a terrible muse! I can’t work under these conditions!” the King accuses him, gesticulating wildly with his paintbrush. It sends splatterings of orange paint flying, but neither seems to notice, “Stop moving!”

“Aw, don’t be like that babe, my leg’s starting to cramp!” Pancho whines in shrill protest, grimacing as he attempts to gingerly shift his weight off his hip.

“A… AH! You’re doing it again!” Julien waves his paws at him in frustration and indignance, before deliberately flicking a sizable blob of oil paint at him, splattering his creamy belly with black. The crowned lemur yelps in shock, gaping down at the blotches in his fur.

“Hey, watch it! That paint wasn’t easy to pinch you know!”

“Maurice?!” Clover yells far too loudly in his ear, and the advisor is quickly reminded of what he was actually doing, darting back behind the curtains again.

“Clover, please, not right into the mic? Anyway, everything’s fine!” He assures her, offering her a strained but amicable smile that he hopes she can hear in his voice, "We're on the same page, remember? I wouldn't sugar coat it."

“Right…” She muses cautiously, and not for the first time Maurice marvels at how far she’s come from the woman that would have sooner broken the radio than listened to him, "We are, yeah?"

“Of course we are. I know you have his best interest at heart but… we can let him have this, right? And besides, you know them. This sort of thing doesn't really tend to last long for either of them. And I say that in the kindest way."

Clover actually giggles, "You have a point there. It's like a flash in the Pancho, as Ted would say." She snorts with laughter at that, her tone quickly turning giddy at her own quip, "Get it? Pan-cho? Flash in the pan? Hooo that was a good one, I liked that."

"Uh-huh, you're a riot,” Maurice remarks dryly, but his eyes soften with fondness, his tone warm.

“And you’re okay, then? With everything?” She presses earnestly, and he gives a quiet chuckle at that, rolling his shoulders upwards.

“For the most part.Tired, but alright. They give me the run around, but that’s not different than any other day.”

True to form, there’s a familiar high pitched shriek from the other room, and Maurice pokes his head around the corner again, eyebrows high on his forehead. Just in time to watch Pancho leap from his chair to bodily tackle the King mid caterwaul, his paintbrush extended like a dangerous weapon. The former convict is covered from head to toe in splotches and splashes of paint, but if the wild grin on his face is anything to go by, he isn’t all that fussed about that.

The two go sprawling onto the carpet that lines the aisle, and Julien’s cries quickly turn to raucous laughter as he’s suddenly tickled. The King squirms and thrashes beneath the other male as Pancho straddles him, holding him down with his weight as his fingers dance along the ring-tails sensitive sides. Every press and brush of his nimble fingers makes him wriggle and buck, and soon the paintbrush goes flying, bouncing down the aisle and past Maurice into the throne room behind him.

“Menace!” Pancho teases him playfully between his own breathless chortles, fighting to keep Julien pinned beneath him, “Menace!”

“Stop it!” Julien howls in protest between his laughter. It’s with very little conviction however, his squirming a lot less desperate than it could be beneath Pancho’s tickling paws. He throws his head back, face splitting with his own wild grin as he slaps and grabs at his mate’s wrists, “Monster! Maniac! AH! I’ll bite you, I swear to Frank I’ll bite you!”

“Oh, now those sound like fighting words!” Pancho grins wickedly, eyes alight with feral glee, and just like that he makes a playful show of taking in a large, dramatic breath. Cheeks puffed up and eyes comically wide, he dives down and in, pressing his snout into the curve of Julien’s exposed throat to blow a raspberry into his fur, and King’s laughter swiftly increases in volume and shrillness, his arms coming up and around to loop around Pancho’s shoulders, body tensing and curling inwards beneath him with mirth.

Warmth blossoms in Maurice’s chest at the sight, his heart full to bursting with affection for his friend. It’s always a joy to see him smile and laugh, despite the chaos that often ensued with it.

“Maurice? Hello? Maurice!”

The advisor gives a little hop of surprise on the spot, clapping a paw over his mouth to stifle his yelp. Luckily for him the pair don’t pick it up over their laughter, and Maurice half retreats behind the curtain, covering his mouth and the microphone with his paw, “Sorry, I er… I’m still here.”

“Right. I asked you if he’s happy.”

“Say what now?”

“Julien, is he happy?”

Maurice blinks hard at that, and from where he’s standing he watches Julien bury his smiling face into the fur of Pancho’s crown, who nuzzles his face more vehemently into his neck, grinning from ear to ear. Their fur matted and covered in smears of paint, the pair absently twine their tails together behind them, a tangle of burgundy and rings of black and white.

“Yeah, he is.” Maurice affirms, and he retreats back into the cubicle to give the pair their privacy, his cheeks hurting with the broad smile that tugs at the corners of his lips,“It’s actually kinda cute, believe it or not.”

“Then that’s all that matters, yeah?” Clover titters with an air of quiet bemusement, “Well, I suppose stranger things have happened with you lot. I’m actually impressed it’s not worse.”

“Harsh, but fair,” Maurice concedes, “There’s never a dull moment, as much as I could do with one.”

Clover lets out an almost whimsical sigh on the other end, “Ah, I miss that. Being a queen and all, you know it’s pretty good. But I… well I miss you guys.”

Maurice’s heart swells up in his chest all over again, the Aye-Aye leaning his head against his paw as he smiles up at the ceiling, “Aw, Clo-Clo,” he coos gently, his voice quickly thickening with emotion, “We miss you too. The kingdom doesn’t go a day without missing you.”

She fawns softly at that, quickly becoming emotional herself, “Ooh I- oh that just warms my heart, it does.” She hesitates a moment, mulling over her words, “You know, even if things aren’t exactly, well- falling apart without me over there, it couldn’t hurt for me to come pay a little visit, right?”

The awkward hopefulness in her voice makes the advisor roll his eyes playfully, “Do you even have to ask? You’re always welcome here! This will always be your home, you know that. I don’t think I need Julien’s blessing to say any of that, he’s said it as much himself.”

“Then I’ll come tomorrow!” Clover enthuses eagerly, and he can practically hear the beaming smile in her voice, “Oh, this is so exciting! My first diplomatic mission! Haha!”

“I’ll get the royal guest hut ready for you. That’s really going to make the King’s day, I’ll tell you that. Come to think of it, it’s not often that we’ve gotten the chance to entertain other royal guests- ”

“And this way, I can tell Pancho to his face that if he breaks Julien’s heart, I’ll eviscerate him personally!” she chirps happily, far too giddy at the thought threats and violence, and Maurice splutters hopelessly for a moment, his train of thought thoroughly derailed.

“Oh boy, yeah I’m a lot less enthused about that part.”

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