#like one of them casually popped it into his mouth in class during a group project

[hiveswap]

my heavy smoker grandparents came over very briefly and the whole house smells like absolute shit now. So I (chronic tumblrina) got thinking.

[sullenarchives]

Jarman (ii)

First published in Sight and Sound 24:2, March 2014

Derek Jarman's first Super 8 films, made as he worked designing sets for Ken Russell's rather more big-budget The Devils (1971) and Savage Messiah (1972), were shown to friends who would “come down to laugh at themselves and put on records behind them.” There is already here an intimation of Jarman's short career as a maker of pop videos, directing promos for The Smiths and Pet Shop Boys: music as mere accompaniment, a separate but parallel atmosphere gliding alongside that of the image. His training as a painter, he emphasised in interviews, combined with a lack of interest in narrative, made him into an almost myopically visual filmmaker; sound, it often seems in his films, is something to be outsourced to the proper technicians and assembled like a mixtape at the dubbing stage: put a record on. (In the recently-published selection of his sketchbooks, there is no mention of music.) The appearance of a contemporary filmmaker whose work had music credits like those of Jarman's would smack of hip 'curation' – indeed, exactly such a charge was levelled at Morvern Callar, with its sequence of Pitchfork favourites, and Berberian Sound Studio, scored by Broadcast – but few such films would treat their own soundtracks with such erratic casualness.

The paradox here is that one of the factors in Jarman's ongoing acclaim is precisely his ability to put music from the margins of culture in the foreground of a potentially – though unstably – public cinema. The aspect of “making a nice party”, of making films partly to enjoy collaborative situations, spilled over into the soundtracks. Brian Eno, Simon Fisher Turner, Andy Gill (former guitarist with Marxist punk-funk group Gang of Four), Throbbing Gristle (who soundtracked In The Shadow of the Sun (1974)) and their successor band Psychic TV (for whom Jarman directed the promo-cum-artist's film Psychic Rally in Heaven), Coil, even Annie Lennox miming to her own version of 'Every Time We Say Goodbye' in Edward II: the list of glittering names, at least for fans of experimental music, is both mouth-watering and oddly numbing. In spite of the brilliance poured into his films, one would struggle to name a great 'music moment' among them – aside of course from the sunshower of Elizabeth Welch's 'Stormy Weather' at the end of The Tempest. Just as individual shots, characters and narrative fragments in Jarman's films ping, semi-maddeningly, out of their provisional contexts, forcing the viewer to reconceive the film's shape at every step, so the music often seems to disappear into its own game of reverie and seduction before momentarily touching the carnal vicissitudes of the image.

There is at least one film one can't watch with the soundtrack off. Critics generally hive off Jubilee (1978) from the rest of his work, partly for being his most narrative film, partly for keeping the visual effects to a minimum and partly, one suspects, out of a gut distaste for pop music. (Conversely, it produces the amusing spectacle of pop historians trying to sift out its merely documentary content.) The film's funhouse-mirror portrait of punk, with an abrasive young star (Adam Ant) ending up in the dissolute clutches of tycoon Borgia Ginz (Jack Birkett), give them plenty of ammunition. Jarman himself recognised the bitter overtones: “Had I betrayed Punk... Derek the Dull Little Middle-Class Wanker'? Or had punk betrayed itself?” The note of defensiveness here, in which he imagines himself “[s]ome aristo on a fallen estate” suggests some recognition of the way the film slipped out of his control, propelled by the contradictory cultural energies it tried to absorb, by the charge and flash of pop. Treating the music with a measure of undivided attention – including a lovely moment when, during Adam Ant's performance of 'Plastic Surgery', the camera's 360-degree pan reveals Jarman and crew watching next to Ginz – meant no longer being able to frame it as a semi-autonomous private joke or temporary delirium. The repeated emphasis in Jarman's films on recording and mediation – the radar dishes in The Angelic Conversation, Tilda Swinton's Hitlerian microphone in Edward II, the foregrounded grain of Super-8 projected and reshot or run through video – transforms from the relentless intimacy of his home videos, from a self-consciously minority art, to the precarious seizure of the means and powers of the spectacle (Malcolm McLaren's self-declared tactic). The social outcasts with whom Jarman identified had, in the persons of Jordan and Ant and the Sex Pistols and innumerable others, stepped out onto the stage, and the film recoiled and fractured with the image of ruination and vitality they represented.

Mark Sinker has most acutely characterised Jubilee as “an impasto of clashing symbol and mood and technique and sensibility: the perverse and deliberately bewildering fusion of past and present, art and politics, documentary and fiction, actors and non-actors, rubbish and beauty”. It shared this sensibility with the most brilliant pop music of the period: Borgia Ginz's mansion is twinned in my mind with the decadent bachelor pads of Bryan Ferry's narrators on For Your Pleasure (1974). And, though more uneasily, with the echoing hospital wards and headspaces of Blue – a 'musical' if ever there was one. Most of Simon Fisher Turner's score to Blue is possessed of a listing, immersive melancholy, filled with shimmering cymbals and singing bowls and echo-drowned brass and woodwinds, that aligns with Coil's soundtracks for Journey To Avebury and The Angelic Conversation. Blue's sound design's collaging of voices, music and field recordings, its outrageous transitions between passages of watery calm and juddering noise, between mourning and libidinous overload – as Coil's hallucinatory acid house 'Theme For Blue' revs into life – is the most radical of Jarman's career, an achievement to match his furious fluency with the image. But, like Jubilee, it is also the soundtrack that pays most attention to the image – to the blankness, ambiguity and multiple meanings of the static image of blue, to the sensuous folds and false depths the viewer perceives after staring for so long, and to the voiceover's descriptions of the brutal politics of the AIDS crisis, of ordinary intimacy, of remembered landscapes. Watching, I think of the blue and red montage of Jordan's make-up, that ferocious and contradictory statement of independence, in Jubilee, and of the music – the blues – that so fiercely laments the dangers and pleasures of a disappearing world.

[potter-imagines]

Not Like The Movies (Fred Weasley)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader 

Request: Fred Weasley imagine where him and Angelina are kind of “talking” but the reader and Angelina are really good friends and she doesn’t know that there “talking” so when Angelina tells her, she seems okay with it, “it’s not like I’ve liked him since first year.” And since she’s on the quidditch team, she kind of drops out. And starts to hung out more with Cedric and that’s when Fred gets jealous and realizes it was never Angelina but the reader. the whole reason he liked Angelina was because of some letters she gave him but she never wrote them, the reader did...Happy ending with Fred and reader.

Warning: None, just swearing and lil angst

Word Count: 11.7k (got carried away, soooo sorry)

Falling in love with your best friend was nothing short of a curse for you. Sadly, life was not like the movies and sometimes, the person you’re in love with just simply does not feel the same. Movies promised you magic. Laughing and crying, music swelling, camera panning, and always a happy, or satisfying ending. Late at night when you would fall asleep, the image of your best friend would flash across your mind, encapsulating your subconscious. You pictured him lying beside you, telling you jokes and holding you in his arms. You dreamed about what it was like to be his, to call him yours. You thought about how it would feel as  he gently strokes your cheek with his palm and his lips find yours. The camera sweeps and falls. We fade to black and everytime, your eyes open from your sleep and the movie comes to an end.

Having grown up with the boy and his twin, falling in love was the easy part; admitting your feelings became the obstacle. It put a slight wedge between your friendship with Fred. You hated how easy it was to fall for him. His stupid laugh, stupid smile, stupid heart, stupid kindess, everything about him was so stupidly loveable.

Although Fred didn’t exactly give you reasons to not feel this way. In actuality, Fred Weasley made it nearly impossible not to fall in love with him. It started with meeting you in the common room each morning and escorting you around the castle, sometimes with George but mostly alone. He’d ‘jokingly’ hold your hand, swinging it widely back and forth as you skipped down the halls. During Qudditch, his attention always trailed off the tracks to you, even when he was miles up in the sky flying around. His eyes would dart to you, just to confirm that you were okay. He was your go to study buddy- although it would typically consist of whispering jokes and talking about your day, rather than studying. Fred was always the one to invite you to his home for break, not that his other siblings didn’t want you, Fred just wanted to be the one who got to ask you. During parties in the common room, you were glued to his side. Fred would toss his arm around your shoulder casually as you sat with your friends. He’d cuddle you on the couch while you chatted away with your friends. You two were never safe from the teasing of your friends, especially George. George Weasley had been pawning for you and his brother to get together since his second year.

Now, there was never an official title given to your uh, predicament. This didn’t mean that people weren’t aware of what was occurring. Hell, even Ron was in on the loop. So, it wasn’t hard for everyone else in the Gryffindor common room to comprehend your shock and anger when you walked in only to find Fred Weasley practically snogging Angelina Johnson on the main couch. Your mouth dropped instantly and your eyes were bugging. And everyone was looking between the pair, and your sudden entrance.

You felt like the ringleader at a circus and all the audience had their eyes on you, the crowd consisting of your few friends who knew your feelings. The voice in your head screamed at you to take action- to go rip Angelina off Fred’s lap and toss her to the ground. It was a vile urge, one that never popped in your thoughts before now. Burning holes into their heads you narrowed your gaze as Angelina snaked her arm around Fred’s broad shoulder, leaning her body into the touch. As if it was second nature, Fred’s arm slipped around her wait, snatching her body forward with a cheeky wink. Your mouth went dry, sahara desert dry. The inside of your stomach coiled into tight knots, a sickening sensation budding. An echoing scream filled your mind, yelling at you to look away, just look away Y/n. Something building, maybe curiosity or maybe disbelief, simply wouldn’t allow this.

Hermione pulled at your hand, silently begging you to walk away with her. You hear the sound of her demanding voice whispering to you, although you neglected to process them. Neither Fred nor Angelina seemed to notice all the attention- if they did, they did a good job hiding it. An indescribable mix of emotion brewed; Angelina Johnson was your close friend next to Hermione. Since first year, she has been your roommate, your potions partner, a chaser just like you, and an amazing friend. She even spent a month of the summer holiday at your home, for crying out loud! You wanted to be angry, you wanted so bad to just scold Angelina and tell her how bad the sight was before you hurt to watch, but you couldn’t. Despite your solid friendship, Angelina was never informed on the feelings you had developed for Fred. In second year you had confessed to her that you had a small crush on the twin, but nothing else ever came. Of course you didn’t know Angelina had liked Fred either. Angelina, Fred, George, and yourself were all in the same school year and house so naturally a friendship arose. As years dwindled on, Angelina drifted away a bit and started spending more time with Alicia Spinott and Katie Bell. You still made time for each other- not to mention living together and spending at least a few hours each day together.

But when Angelina shifted groups, it left you room to grow closer with Fred and George. By your third year, Lee had filled in Angelina’s spot and the four of you raked havoc among Hogwarts. Lee Jordan was a great friend, he always let you sit up in the announcing booth during Quidditch matches when Gryffindor wasn’t playing. In those cases, he was vocally cheering you on through the microphone as you raced around the pitch. When it came to Fred and George, there was a different type of bond you created. You had spent nights on end sprawled around the dorm room of the Weasley twins, chatting about everything and nothing for hours. They invited you in on their pranks, showed you their prized Marauders Map, brought you to The Burrow for holidays, bought you presents for Christmas/birthdays, visited you during the summer, and more. The three of you always sat together in class, sometimes making Lee move a table over. It was always the three of you. Somewhere along the way, you started looking at one twin in particular in a different light. Both were handsome, but something about Fred made your heart race. Everytime his hand brushed against your during class, an electric tingle shot through your spine. He was protective over you, in a brotherly way you assumed, but it was sweet nonetheless. Even during matches Fred always kept an eye out for you on the Quidditch pitch. Never did he miss the chance to gloat about how he basically saved your life three different times. After a long day of class, the two of you would sometimes cuddle on the couch in the common room or in his dorm while talking with George. It was a running joke among your friends about the two of you dating. George loved to tease you two, making kissy faces and telling the two of you to ‘get together already’. George was certainly not the first, nor only, person to make such comments to Fred and yourself. Hermione asked weekly when you would start dating, Harry would question every so often, Ginny asked every hour when you’d get married, and Ron hardly paid enough attention to notice anything occurring.

Pestering and prodding, their questions remained unanswered. You never quite knew what to say, but George, Hermione, Ginny, and even Harry, knew. They kept silent in your presence. Behind closed doors, they seemed to have figured it out. Ron was present for all this but once again, he really didn’t care much to give an overload of input. He wasn’t too interested though and only came to feel a part of the discussion.

The person they couldn’t figure out was Fred Weasley. For the first time in his life, George couldn’t give a solid answer on how his twin was feeling. Typically, George always knew. He was certain Fred had fancied you when they were younger but now in your sixth year, it was hard for him to tell. The two of you had been flirting for years and even though it increased with every year, no actual moves ever came. George wondered if it truly was just flirting in Fred’s mind. Everytime he tiptoed near the topic of Fred’s feelings for you and if he had any, Fred shut it down in an instant. He’d tell George to ‘sod off’ and refused to speak on it. It gave George jumbled ideas.

So when Hermione came up with the idea of you spilling your feeling for Fred in an anonymous letter, it was an appealing thought. George toyed with the plan, a strange pang pulling in his guts told him this was a bad idea. He didn’t know why, but George was scared something would go wrong. He still hadn’t gotten a proper grasp on Fred’s feelings yet. If there was even a chance Fred would decline your confession of heart, George would feel terribly guilty for setting you up to fall. Harry sat this conversation out with Ron, not feeling like it was his place to be this involved. Ginny was in agreement with Hermione, of course, but George kept pushing for them to rethink. Although it was too late, you were already mentally planning a letter.

A week later you nervously handed George a small envelope. Inside was a folded up piece of parchment and in black ink was the words of your emptying out your heart to Fred. You dedicated a small poem to him, then on another page, you dropped small hints about your identity. You included memories, such as meeting on the Hogwarts Express, playing Quidditch together, trips to Hogsmeade, late nights talk, and more. Part of you hoped he solved the mystery right away. The larger part of you crossed your fingers that he felt the same way.

Taking your letter, George was sweating in fear. He had never been so unsure of his brother’s reaction in his life. There were many different ways this could go; the main two being either really really well, or really really bad. For some reason, George was leaning towards the latter.

Hermione on the other hand insisted Fred felt the same. She could sense it, whatever that means. You knew your friend was the most brilliant witch of your time, but she seemed wrong about this one. And now, as you stood staring at your roommate and best friend snuggled up on the couch you were just cuddling with him on last week, Hermione most definitely seemed to be wrong about this one.

Before you got the chance to see Fred and Angelina take their exchanges any further, a tall frame stepped in front of you, blocking your path of sight. Tilting your head up you were met with the soft, pitiful eyes of George Weasley. The other half of your trio reached out and held your shoulders in his hands, gripping your focus.

“We need to talk.”

Hermione followed George up to her door without creating any commotion. They didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention who would question their exit, especially Fred or Angelina. Speaking of which, Hermione led you and George to her dorm as it seemed to be the only chance of you not having to face either of the pair. Slamming the door with a huff, Hermione spun around and pointed to the tall Weasley shifting awkwardly.

“So what the bloody hell was that, George?” Hermione cut through the tension with her sharp words. You refused to meet either of their eyes. The lazer like study of George  melting into the side of your head. Your friend slugged over to the bed across from Hermione’s and plopped down. A heavy, tiresome, sigh fell from his lips.

“I just found out last night- I had no clue until Fred told me last night. She was leaving and… I’m just as lost as you guys.”

“What about the letter?” Hermione crossed her arms, starting over at George in anticipation.

“Lee told Fred ‘bout how he saw Angelina by our dorm earlier last week so Fred thinks she’s the one who wrote the letter. Guess it made him interested in her- I don’t know if he asked her about them or not but I guess they went out last week and now they’re… a thing? I don’t know, I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know what to say, he just told me about it right before you came in. I wouldn’t have let you walk in that otherwise- Y/n I swear on that.” Shaking your head, you could feel the emotions bottling up to a spillage. Running a hand over your reddening face you expressed,n

“I know, George. It’s not your fault, I’m not mad at you, I could never. Just mad at the situation. I was stupid to think it would work between us.”

Hermione sat on the end of her bed, her eyes glaring out the window. Her head snapped in your direction. Mouth crack open ajar, her angry expression turned to disbelief and guilt. Shaking her head back and forth she exclaimed,

“It was my idea for you to write the letter, Y/n. I’m the one who should be apologizing for getting you into this mess-”

“No really, it’s not your guys fault. It’s no ones. If Fred likes Angelina then, he likes Angelina. I can’t change that and telling him I was the one who wrote the letter certainly won’t change that either. Love fucking sucks!” You shouted. George’s hands fumbled in his lap as he desperately tried to avoid your frame. He wasn’t sure he could handle the image. To George, the responsibility lay upon his shoulders but his heart suddenly broke into  million tiny pieces when he registered the small sobe choking out. The tears uncontrollably began to roll. You covered your mouth as you fell back into the bed sheets. Salty tears streamed down your cheeks, skipping down the skin. They poured from the side of her skin, splashing against the blanket underneath her.

The familiar grip of George wrapped around your body in an instant. Hermione attached herself as well, the two of them comforting you together. It was soothing to feel his hands rubbing against your back, and Hermione’s head resting on your shoulder.

“Y/n, no, no, please don’t cry, love. Please- shit Y/n, I’m so sorry.” You slumped into their arms, allowing their hugs.

George decided to stay for a few hours. The three of you just laid in Hermione’s bed chatting quietly about everything and anything except Fred Weasley. They made an effort to weave every conversation away from that danger zone. George placed a pillow in his lap, allowing you a seat for your head. Hermione’s bed wasn’t big enough for the three of you to sit spaciously so, he made do. Besides, George was your best friend so it was far more natural for him to cuddle with you than Hermione. He was sure Ron would have an earful for him if that was the case. Hermione sat with her back against the bed frame similar to George. His hands petted your hair delicately, lulling you into a deep sleep. Exhaustion from tears and disappointment, your slumber arrived quickly. As your light snores bounced off the stone walls of Hermione’s dorm room, she nudged George. He looked over in a second with a curious gaze.

“Does he really like her? Angelina?” She whispered the words so faint, they almost went unnoticed to George.

“I don’t know, Hermione. I mean… he’s my bloody twin and never has he ever even mentioned finding her attractive let alone wanting to date her. It’s all just… shocking. I should get going soon, though. Catch him before he goes to bed and maybe then I can get some answers.” George slowly lifted from the bed. He set his hand behind your head for support as he moved the pillow. As light as a feather, he placed your head down on the pillow and backed away as quiet as a mouse. The clock was approaching two in the morning and his heavy lids were starting to collapse. It wasn’t a terrible walk to his room, but it also wasn’t lightning speed. His sleepiness was taking over and if he fell asleep in Hermione’s bed with both her and you, he’d be expelled before sunrise, no matter the circumstance.

Hermione nodded and slipped down so she was laying in her bed. She

“Alright, George. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Taking a step out the door, the tall boy stuck his head back

“You want me to carry her up to her room?” He asked kindly. Hermione looked up at him, clearly doubtful on his offer. “For some reason, I don’t think Y/n will be too pleased to wake up in the same room as Angelina.” They both laughed, careful not to wake you. George mentally face palmed.

“Right. Can’t say that doesn’t make sense. Uh, goodnight, Hermione. Thanks for staying with her.” George mumbled awkwardly. The young witch just smiled and waved to him.

“Of course. Goodnight, George.”

By the time George had trudged back to his room, Fred was passed out, sleeping on top of his blankets instead of under, so George decided to hold off on setting his twin right. As he fell asleep, his thoughts worried about you. He was scared you would hide yourself away, detach from him in order to keep distance from his twin. George considered you to be his best friend, and having you hurt by the actions of his brother made him feel like shit. He found himself praying to whatever god might be listening that when the sun peaked up behind the darkness, you would be okay. Although when morning came, no one could find you. Hermione informed George that you had sneaked out early when the sun rose and she had yet to see you since.

Fred stumbled down the steps and into the common room around noon, rubbing his eyes in a groggy state. His feet dragged across the floor resembling more of a zombie than a human. Just as he entered, George, Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing from the leather sofa heading for the portrait. Ron was the one who noticed Fred and happily invited him along for their lunchtime run.  This earned an overdramatic roll of the eyes from Hermione and an awkward wince from Harry. The not so subtle gesture made Fred tilt his head. Nonetheless, he agreed, placing himself at George’s side and giving him a side hug.

The five took off for the dinning hall, making small talk as they went.

George’s jaw hit the floor as he waltzed into the Great Hall only to find you sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table with Cedric Diggory. He stood, the wind knocked out of him in utter astonishment. Based on the events of the night before, he was expecting you to be still cuddled into Hermione’s bed, or eyes brimming with tears, but you were the exact opposite. A bright, million dollar smile shined from your face. George could hear your laughter from the adjacent direction of the dinning hall. Cedric was sitting beside you, his arms resting on the table as his eyes gazed at you. Everyone knew you guys were friends but it was more, acquaintances or classmates rather than best friends. He pondered if this was your act of retaliation against Fred getting with Angelina- or maybe you truly were trying to move on. No matter the reality, George knew this wasn’t just two friends catching up, and if that was the case, you two had a weird way of showing it.

The sight made a large grin creep to Hermione’s lips. Harry and Ron were completely lost in translation as to why you were sitting with him and Fred, well Fred was livid. So livid the shade of his cheeks was an exact match to the shade of his hair, and everyone saw it. He stopped walking and, quite loudly, choked on the thick air of the room. Some looked over at the sound, intrigued George kicked at the back of his shoe, signaling Fred to keep walking. He obliged, but his focus stayed trained on you and Cedric. At their movement, he slowly lifted his head and was greeted with the fiery eyes of Fred. A teasing smirk hit his lips which only made the fire burning inside Fred blaze harder. Cedric leaned down softly to whisper in your ear, his words making your turn to glance at your friends. You sent them a wave, then turned back to Cedric. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t bring you a slight joy to see the visible reaction of Fred.

George dragged his brother to the Gryffindor table, practically shoving him into a seat. He sat down next to him as the rest of the group took the seats around them. All their friends were staring at Fred, waiting for his next move.

Smacking his fist on the tabletop in vexation, Fred fumed,

“Is… is that Y/n and Diggory? That’s Y/n and fucking Diggory!”

George met his brother with a deadpan expression.

“Thanks, Fred, couldn’t tell. I mean, they have been friends since our second year.” He muttered. Although this was true, you only recently started talking again. Cedric was popular among students at Hogwarts so as the years trialed on, it became harder and harder to keep a close bond with him. You never had a nasty falling out- you still waved and smiled at each other during class and in the halls, you just stopped spending your free time together as often. Cedric was constantly with his little group of friends and you were rarely disconnected from Fred and George’s hips.

But when he saw you wandering the halls, tear strokes staining your cheeks, he rekindled the friendship with his natural kindness. Wordlessly, Cedric halted his journey to the Great Hall and kneeled down in front of you, asking you what was the matter. Blame it on the lack of sleep or the heightened emotions, you spilled your emotions and confessed everything to him. His presence felt nostalgic and comfortable, it felt like the old days. After crying to him for sometime, Cedric offered to keep you company for the day.

He showed you around the greenhouse, pointing out which ones he planted and all his favorites. You then took him to the Great Lake where you walked around for an hour and shared what you had missed from each other’s lives. It was exactly what you needed to feel a little better for a while. You guys ended your trip down memory lane, and survey of the grounds, in the Great Hall, Cedric’s original destination. He invited you to sit with him and, not wanting to sit alone, you kindly tagged along. Since then, the two of you hadn’t left your spot at the Hufflepuff table. When Cedric saw your friends walking in, he decided to do you a favor and scoot a little closer, purposely making Fred twitch from the opposite side of the room.

Scoffing heavily, Fred lifted his eyebrow and motioned to Cedric and yourself.

“When the bloody hell have they ever sat together- I mean look at how fucking close they are! He’s basically on top of her… I should go see if she’s okay-” Pushing himself up from the table, a quick hand grasped at his side, snagging him back down with a thump. “No, Fred. Just let her be, she had a rough night.” The snarky cut sounded from Hermione. The curly haired girl gave a sneer to Fred, irritated soaking through her words.

“What happened? I never even saw her come in last night.”

“And why’s that?” Hermione asked, head cocked to the side, daring Fred to reply. But when he didn’t say anything, she huffed and continued, “She went to bed right after she got in- uh, I think she said something about an essay or exam. Can’t remember.”

An awkward silence took over, no one else wanting to speak up. George was scrapping around his lunch, taking small bites as he waited for someone to change the topic. Fred glared once more over to you then begrudgingly stated,

“Guess I’ll just have to ask her about it at practice tomorrow. She seems occupied.” The green-eyed monster had fully awakened in Fred. He contemplated strutting right over and yanking you away from Cedric. His blood boiled, envy tainting his circulation. A small part of Fred was beginning to believe you had feelings for him as well- well that was until now. Now, he knew you didn’t and it ripped his heart in two.

Sucking in his cheeks, Fred’s teeth toyed and bit at the skin. His knuckles remained clenched and his eyes cold.

A new group of students made their way into the Great hall, with them, Angelina Johnson.

“Hey Fred.” Angelina was smiling, a sickeningly sweet smile that made the skin under her eyes crinkle. Hermione noticed the unfamiliar tint of peach kissing her lips. She rolled her eyes, annoyance growing at Angelina putting in the extra effort to look nice for Fred. She never wore makeup, and Hermione had to resist the urge to throw her glass of water on the girl’s face. Although younger than you, Hermione was extremely protective of you as you were with her. She was your closest girlfriend and Hermione was not about to let Angelina stomp all over you.

Fred Weasley broke his gaze from you to turn to Angelina. A fake smirk hit his face as he greeted her.

“Angelina, hi.” Ron and Harry listened in, trying to act like they weren’t paying attention. They weren’t huge on drama like this- it was a lose lose for Ron to get involved seeing as Fred was his older brother. Harry preferred to remain in his own conflict- Merlin knows he had a laundry list of those.

The older Gryffindor girl had her hand in her hair, fingers twisting a strand absentmindedly. Instead of dressing down for the sluggish Sunday, Angelina had on a tight red and black plaid skirt, and a tight, slightly unbuttoned white long sleeve.

“I was wondering, you wanna go back to the common room with me? Thought we could hangout for a while.” Leaning to her hip, a seductive gleam twinkled in her eyes. Ron could feel the gag creeping up his throat. Everyone, even Fred, had to hold back from scoffing at the girl. Right as Fred went to decline her proposal, his eyes drew over to you. The resentment and fury hit his bloodstream again when he saw Cedric leaning in so close that his lips were almost brushing your cheeks. He narrowed in on you moving towards his touch, the laughter that cascaded from your lips at his whispers. Out of spite, Fred grinned up at Angelina and nodded his head.

“Sure,” Fred propped his hands on either side of the table, lifting himself up, “I’ll see you guys later.” He commented before taking off with Angelina out of the Great Hall. George pushed the food around on his plate, trying to think of a way to make things right. He hated having his two best friends in a standoff, one that his dim twin seemed to not even understand. Looking up, George saw your eyes watching Fred and Angelina leaving the hall, hand-in-hand.

Cedric reached out for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze in an attempt to distract you. His hands were warm in your cold grip and the comfort was slim. If it were Fred’s hands in your own, maybe it would feel different. Resting your head on the wooden table, Cedric could barely make out your sorrowful mumble.

“See, I told you. He’s not interested.”

The kind Hufflepuff shook his head, the sandy brown locks in his hair swinging as he did. To him, it was obvious. Maybe it was a guy thing, but Cedric could feel the heat fuming off Fred from the other side of his room. It was obvious to him that seeing you and Cedric so close together, got under his skin.

Setting his fork down, Cedric wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side.

“Y/n, darling, that is the exact opposite as not interested- he’s only leaving with her because he got jealous that you’re with me! You can’t tell me all that glaring and pouting and red face was because he’s ‘not interested’ in you.” You sat stunned at his words, not having a comeback ready at all. He made a valid point- one that infected your thoughts. Was Fred actually upset that you were with Cedric? No, you declared, he had Angelina, why would he care about who you were with. An answer for Cedric still hadn’t come so you shrugged to him, and started digging into the food on your plate.

A hearty, childlike, chuckle eliminated from Cedric as he gave you one last side hug,

“See, I told you.” He mocked teasingly. You glared at him playfully then glanced over at the Gryffindor table. George Weasley had already turned towards you, silently pleading for you to come over. You mentioned to the east entrance of the dinning hall, signaling for him to meet you there. Excusing yourself politely from Cedric, you promised to return later in the evening, telling him you needed to take care of some business. He of course sweetly obliged, waving to you as you left his table, then joined up with his friends.

George jogged off after you, quickly meeting you outside of the hall. Before you could say hello, he was already diving in.

“You’re mad, woman. Absolutely mad! Do you see how angry Fred was? Cause I was sitting at him and he was incensed! I swear- he was about to leap over there and fight Cedric!” George’s hollar rang to the tippy top of the Astronomy tower. Passerbys leered nosily, wanting a taste of the gossip. Shoving George lightly, you started walking towards the Gryffindor side of the castle with him on your tail.

“Doesn’t matter- he’s with Angelina.” You stated. As much as you wanted the conversation to vanish, George wasn’t about to let you go that easy. Following by your side, an ear shattering laugh came from George.

“Y/n, he only went to hangout with her because he was livid about you and Cedric!”

The traffic in the hall was overwhelming. For a Sunday, there sure were a lot of students roaming the halls. The younger students basically ogled over the two of you as you passed by. First and second year Gryffindors always thought of the Weasley twins and gods for their notorious pranks, and by association, you as well. A group of first year Gryffindor students were crowded around the Cobblestone Courtyard, trying to sneak points and stares at you two. George and you waved over to the boys, their eyes widening at your gestures, but returning a shaky wave back nonetheless. You both continued walking, trying to keep the conversation as light as possible. “Whatever, George.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you sent him a pointed look, stopping dead in your tracks. Turning to a softer tone you asked, “Would you do me a small favor?”

His eyes squinting, George flattened his lips into a thin line.

“What kind of a favor?”

“Just come to McGonagall’s office with me and I’ll explain on the way.” You insisted. Having nothing better to do and wanting to probe your brain for a bit longer, George agreed. However when you made it to the tower of the teacher's offices, he started to regret coming along. The two of you climbed your way up to the fourth floor, and George’s mouth went dry to the bone when you started knocking on the door of Professor McGonagall. Dots started to connect and before George had the chance to stop you, McGonagall’s door creaked open and the beloved Professor

“Miss. Y/l/n, Mr. Weasley, what can I do for the two of you? You didn’t explode a laboratory again, did you?” The tiredness in her voice was noticeably as she prepared herself to deal with the consequences of your reckless pranks. Instead, you reassured her by shaking your head.

“No, Professor, not this time. I was wondering if I could speak to you about leaving the Quidditch team?”

“What?” Both McGonagall and George asked in unison. The seriousness in your gaze answered their questions. McGonagall gave you a bewildered look, not expecting your request in the slightest. George couldn’t move. His feet were cemented to the floor- not giving a single budge. Ever since you were age qualified for tryouts, Fred, George, and you had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Your third year you were all starters and it hasn't changed since. Everyone could agree, even your opponents, that you were the top chaser in the school, next to a seventh year Ravenclaw boy. You were faster than most, strategic, quick on your feet, and were an excellent flyer.

George went to pull for your hand, destined to make you rethink. But you moved your hand away before your skin touched. He couldn’t think of the words to yell at you to stop, for once in his life. McGonagall flicked her eyes between you two, then stepped to the side, opening her office door.

“Come in, dear- both of you, come in.”

On Monday evening, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was pooled together on the pitch making conversation before practice started. Angelina Johnson stood a few feet from, giggling and whispering with Alicia and Katie. The girls would glance over to the twins every few seconds, then giggle turning back to each other. As time passed on, Fred found it quite annoying. He wasn’t dating Angelina although he wondered if that was clear to her. For the last week and a half, the pair had been sneaking around the castle, snogging in dark corridors, flirting during practice, getting handsy during class and sitting awfully close to one another in the common room. To Fred, he was just having fun and if he was being honest, it was getting a bit boring but he felt that Angelina deserved a chance.

When he found the heartfelt letter on his bed, he felt he owed it to Angelina to at least give it a try. The way she poured her heart to him on paper- it made him feel special, cared about. Fred couldn’t say with one hundred present confidence that the writer was Angelina, but Lee Jordan was certain it was her.  

Although he had been devoting most of his time to hanging out with Angelina and trying to sort out if he had any feelings, Fred noticed a change in you. After that night in the common room, seeing you became a rare occurrence. No longer did Fred walk you to and from class, Cedric did now, and sometimes George. Fred almost had a heart attack the first time he spotted you walking through the corridors with Cedric Diggory close to your hip. That was four days ago and since then, the two of you still hadn’t really spoken.

Fred kicked at the grass and sand surrounding his feet. He didn’t have the motivation nor the energy to flirt with Angelina when his mind was stuck on you. He hated the jealousy that took over when he saw you with Cedric, but he couldn’t shake the image. The sound of his younger brother shouting brought Fred back to reality. George had been standing by his side, but he had been far too quite as well. It made Fred feel like he was going crazy- like he was left out on whatever had been consuming George and yourself. He was distressed over the situation, but Ron’s screeching was too distracting to come up with any solutions. Fred peeked over to his brother as Ron demanded,

“Where’s Y/n? She’s our top Chaser- where the bloody hell is she?” Ron was frantically scanning the pitch for you. Walking up from behind the group, Oliver Wood announced his arrival with an annoyed, and irritated voice.

“McGonagall let me know this morning that y/l/n will not be joining us for the rest of the year. Guess she was falling behind in classes and McGonagall and she felt it was best to quit the team… I don’t agree, but I can’t do anything.” He clutched his broom in his left hand, nearly snapping the wood in half. Everyone crowded around could feel the anger radiating off Oliver. His lips were pressed in a stern line, and his body was stiff as a board. The rest of the team shifted under his heated glare. Oliver had a way of killing with his eyes and the baffled Gryffindor players could sense it was going to be one long practice.

Giving the team one last overlook, Oliver pivoted on his back foot and stomped off. The rest of the group exchanged quizential gleams, separate groups of chatter running amuck.

Fred could hear Alicia and Angelina talking about you. You were the third party to their line of Chasers- they had no idea what to do without you on the team anymore.

“What? She never told me that.” Angelina Johnson crossed her arms in thought, puzzled by the entire announcement. If you were behind in classes, why hadn’t you told her? Leaning her weight on her hip, Angelina looked over the twins. She knew the three of you were best friends, so she assumed they’d have answers. Fred was already looking over to her, only for some sort of answers as to why you quit. Burrowing her eyebrows, she sent him a question leer. She was just as left in the dark as he. Suddenly, a light bulb flicked in a flare. Fred turned to his twin, who was far too quiet, meaning he already knew.

“Y/n tell you she was quitting?” It was more a demand than a question, but Fred still wanted to hear George admit it. Awkwardly, George scratched at the skin of his neck. It was such an uncomfortable situation for him to be stuck in the middle of, but he loved both of you and it hurt him to see you hurt. George shrugged, switching his broom between his hands.

“Yeah, I went with her to go talk to McGonagall, I told her not to but y’know how stubborn she is. Had her mind set.” He confessed. George kept checking for their captain, for the first time he was eager for practice to begin. He didn’t care if Oliver was going to take his frustrations of you leaving the team out on them- he just wanted the conversation between himself and Fred to be over. Flying 100 laps around the pitch in one cycle was much more appealing than standing there any longer. Although his twin wasn’t about to let him slide that easy. Taking a step forward Fred seethed,

“Wait, she asked you to come with her? She didn’t even tell me anything about leaving the team. Also didn’t say anything about Diggory...” His tone was a mix of shock and jealousy. The envy dripping from his words was harsh. The white bones of his knuckles peaked out from beneath his skin as his fists clenched at his sides. This caught George’s attention but not in a positive light.

It made him tick in an unfamiliar way. To George, even though Fred was his twin, he didn’t have the right to be upset with him for being your shoulder. Yes, Fred didn’t know what exactly was going on, but he knew something was up. He had to have some sort of inkling and it irritated George that Fred was mad at him.

Scoffing deeply, George threw it right back at him,

“Not like you’ve even been around that much lately. Seems like you’ve been a bit,” His eyes shot over to one particular Chaser, then again to his twin. “Busy. Didn’t tell her about that one either, I assume.” Cold were his words and his face twisted in a scowl. Eyes wide as the moon, Fred gestured to the girl standing next to her friends.

“Angelina?” He asked in surprise. As dumbfounded as his brother seemed, George’s annoyance only extended at an alarming rate. Oliver rented the pitch and was trudging over to the group. Shaking his orange locks George scrunched his nose.

“I mean, did you tell Y/n about whatever the hell this is going on between Angelina and you. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t tell you shit when you don’t tell her either.” He spat jarringly. The tension was boiling between the two of them and Fred was lost as to why. Stepping away, he lifted his hands in defense. “Woah, where did the attitude come from? I don’t even know what I did, George. It’s not like Y/n will even glance in my direction lately. Help me out.”

Fred was completely disconcerted, pleading to his brother with his eyes to give him some guidance. It was unlike George to keep things from his twin, and Fred needed to get to the bottom of it. Why would you confide in George? To Fred, the two of you were always a bit closer than George and yourself. There were different boundaries, different normalities between you and each twin. A weird conjunction of irk and bitterness brewed inside him. “For some reason, I don’t believe that. You know, Fred, Angelina didn’t write that letter.” His words struck Fred like a bus. Nearly giving himself whiplash, Fred snapped his sharp eyes to George as his mouth parted open. George’s focus remained on their captain who was nearing. The matter-of-fact tone to his voice had Fred even more confused. Grabbing his brother by the shoulder to force his attention, Fred gasped.

“What-” An abrupt hollar from the Gryffindor captain rang out causing the team to quiet down and look over to Oliver. With a gruff expression, Wood wasted no time diving into instructions.

“Okay everyone, gather ‘round. First piece of business, Katie, you’ll be taking over for Y/n, second piece of business…”

Fred drowned out the sound of Oliver moaning on as his mind raced to the letter. His brain repeated the sweet words over and over again. There was an extremely slim pool of people who could know all those things about him, and some of it, Fred was almost positive Angelina didn’t know. Yes, he met her his first year, but Angelina didn’t know Fred was afraid of the dark. She had no idea he hated socks. That was something he shared with you over winter break when the harsh winter forced him to wear the constricting material on his feet. Didn’t know about the scar on his knee he got last summer when Fred, George and yourself went exploring in the woods and he fell into a hunting trap. You knew all these things- but if you were the true author, Fred was almost certain you would’ve said something by now… right? That’s what made the whole situation so frustrating to him. He thought about asking Angelina, getting a straight forward response but if she did say no, what was he supposed to do. If Angelina didn’t write the letter, then who did? Did the prank king himself fall for a prank? Fred’s judgement remained clouded for the rest of the practice, despite how hard Oliver pushed them. He needed to find you and at least figure out why you had been avoiding him.

While your former teammates were hard at work on the pitch, you were sat in the courtyard with Cedric. The two of you were propped up on the brick wall, sitting half inside the corridor and half outside. Students walked past as dinner was nearing, mummering about the two of you while walking by. Those who were unaware of your history gossiped about a possible relationship. A relationship was the last thing either of you wanted for each other.

Cedric was busy telling you a story about a holiday him and his father took to Greece the year before, a country you had been dying to visit. You were invested in his story about traveling to see authentic Greek God statues when the figure of a familiar boy came into view from the corner of your eye. Behind Cedric was Fred Weasley running up to every student in his perimeter, saying something to them, then running off to the next one. He reached a Slytherin girl, asked her something, then much to your surprise, she turned around and pointed at you. Fred followed her finger until his eyes found yours. Rushing over, Fred thought you were alone until he was a foot away and the shoulder of Cedric could be seen poking out behind the pillar.

Fred stopped next to Cedric, trying his best to appear intimidating, which would’ve caused you to giggle recklessly if the situation were different.

“Y/n… Cedric. Fancy running into the two of you.”

“Hey Fred.” The confidence in Cedric’s voice almost made you laugh. He was toying with Fred because he knew he could. You didn’t have an attraction towards Cedric, and he saw you as a great friend. Fred didn’t need to know this all yet.

Now that Fred was face-to-face with Cedric, you could see that your friend was correct about noticing the jealousy. Fred snarled at the Hufflepuff, a scowl painting his face. Once he looked over to you, his features softened. Biting your lip you echoed,

“Hi.” Fred was pleased with your response, even if it was minimal, at least you were willing to acknowledge him now. That was a step.

Reaching for your hand, Fred laced his rough fingers around your own. It was a familiar feeling you had been missing for over a week. Having his attention on you was something you missed- just having him around was something you missed.

Cedric coughed awkwardly, awaiting Fred’s move. The Gryffindor glared over again then took a deep breath, resisting the ticking urge to shove the boy away from your vicinity.

“Y/n, uh, can we talk?” He paused for a moment, “Without dear Cedric around.”

“Sure. I’ll see you around, Ced.” You leaned up to hug your friend, then watched as he walked away, smirking to himself.

“Ced?” Fred muttered under his breath, earning a small frown from you. “Sorry…”

Scratching at his arm, Fred tried to figure out where to begin. There were so many questions- so many. It was impossible to declare the perfect place to start. Realizing he wasn’t going to speak first, you broke the ice.

“You just want to talk here?” The corridor was empty, expect a Ravenclaw couple stealing a nap before curfew. A pair of students would walk by every so often, but they never strayed from their path.

“Uh, I suppose. I mean you haven’t really been talking to me at all for a week, so I’ll have a conversation wherever I can get one.” Fred chuckled uncomfortably, the lack of humor on your face building tension. You were staring out at the bare courtyard, viewing the scenery of flowers and greenery. Tall trees whooshed in the wind, leaves tumbling to the green grass gracefully. Branches swung against each other, the noise helping to create a distraction.

Slipping his thumb under your chin, Fred lifted your head locking his eyes on yours. You finally peered back at him, and the look in his eyes almost made your heart crumble. A slight glossy, sadness glazed his typically wild, gleaming, happy orbs. His hand tightened on your face, although not enough to hurt.

“Y/n why won’t you even look at me, love? You’re obsessed with Quidditch almost as much as Oliver and you just upped and quit. Don’t even try the excuse of ‘falling behind in school’, we both know that’s a bold lie. You’re the brightest witch in the castle. Look at me please, love.” He pleaded. A sudden rush of irritation surged through you, irked at his words. Pushing him back, you tried to rid yourself of the boy. Stubborn as he was, Fred didn’t move a muscle.

“Stop. Stop it. You can’t say that.” Sternly you scolded him. Fred ran his free hand across his face, his frustration getting the best of him.

“I can’t say what, darling?”

Finding the strength to push him away, you glowered intensely, “You can’t call me love, and you certainly can’t call me darling. You have Angelina for that.” The last part was thrown in more to jab at Fred, wanting to make him feel even an ounce of the pain you were experiencing. It was exactly the most adult choice, but who could blame you. It’s like they say; hurt people, hurt people.

Despite the coldness of your presence, Fred wasn’t backing off. Tugging at your wrist, he pulled your attention in again. His hands were gentle yet his features were sharp.

“So, what? Can only Cedric call you that? Cause just a week ago you were fine with it- loving it actually. This has nothing to do with Angelina-” The vein in his forehead was popping out from all the emotions Fred was draining at once. The last time you saw that sort of a reaction was when Fred nearly murdered his brother Percy for delivering him personally to Snape for exploring the castle after hours. It was quite an interesting Christmas break after that stunt. Fred attempted manslaughter roughly five times during that month off.

You heard his words but all you could see was red. You couldn’t stand to hear him say her name, it made the hairs on the back of your neck rise at the thought of Fred with Angelina. A week’s worth of heartbreak, anger, and hurt exploded without warning as you leaned close to Fred and shouted feverishly,

“This has everything to do with Angelina, Fred!” The anger boiled into a scream as you shoved your finger into his chest, poking him harshly, “You were supposed to be my best friend- her too- and you never told me. You led me on, you made me think you actually had feelings for me, that I had a chance, then you went and got with my roommate, and didn’t say a word to me! You just want me to pretend everything is fine and dandy but it isn’t! You hurt me- her too, but you more than anyone. I’ve been friends with both of you since first year- I’ve been in love with you since first year- and you never even said a thing, you coward! I fucking left clues in neon signs in that letter and you still ignored them. You could’ve just told me, Fred. I can’t even look at either of you the same now. Why didn’t you tell me?” The tears were pouring like a broken faucet at this point. Salt kissed the corner of your mouth then splashed onto the stone floor. Your head fell, allowing the cries to smack right to the ground. A black shoe came into view as it stepped towards you. Refusing to look up, you silently begged for Fred to do something- anything. Soon enough, his large hand clasped around your shoulder, yanking you tightly into his chest. His arms encapsulated you into a hold, hugging you like he never had before. Instead of fighting him off, you felt your body sinking into his arms as the sobs continued. Fred’s hand reached to your head, petting at your hair in a soothing manner.

Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, Fred lingered his lips against your skin. This was something he had down a million times but with the circumstances, it felt different this time, more genuine.

“You wrote those letters?” Fred uttered faintly. All the stars were aligning in his mind as the confession coated the air. He wanted to kick himself endlessly for putting a blindside up to all the flags. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you, his best friend, would share the love he felt for you. He started to think back on all your little antics in a different light. How you’d hug him first after every Quidditch match- win or lose. How you’d hold only his hand when you walked to class and never George’s. How you’d braid his hair in the common room on the weekends and spend all night spilling your secrets to him. How whenever there was a party, you stayed close to his side clutching his hand, not that Fred ever let you wander far. It caused his heart to skip a beat as he fixed all the pieces together into a neat puzzle.

“Of course I fucking wrote the letters, Fred! Who else could’ve known all that, hm? I’m sure you ruled George out right away so that only leaves one of us. You didn’t want it to be me- you wanted it to be her.” Your voice cracked at the admission, turning away from Fred while the tears took control. You wanted to run off so bad, to go cry in a corner and never face anyone again. Wiping your eyes, Fred snatched your mascara smudged hand and frantically exclaimed,

“No, that’s not true! I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so bad Y/n, but it was just too good to be true. When I found them on my bed, Lee said Angelina was standing outside our room right before he came up so I… I guess it was just… I don’t know. I didn’t want to risk it, I was just scared if it really was you.” Your eyes rolled in disbelief, was he really driving the dagger in even more? Was it really necessary? The message was received loud and clear as you sneered up at him.

“I get it, Fred, okay? I fucking get it so you don’t have to spell it out for me. You’re with Angelina and I’m just your friend-” For the first time in the long years of your friendship, Fred Weasley snapped at you. Never had you heard his scary, angry voice directed at you, but this time, you were the only one around to be on the receiving end.

“Will you just shut up! I’m not with Angelina- I had a thing with her but I could never be with her, Y/n. She’s just… just-ugh! She’s just not you and it’s infuriating. And if I see you in Diggory’s arms one more time, I think I’m gonna explode.” He finished, out of breath and huffing. His hand around yours had gripped harder, your fingers nearly numb. This was the least of your concerns. All you could comprehend was the rapid words of the boy in front of you.

A triumphant sensation hit your stomach. It made you a little happy to know Fred was envious of Cedric. He had no reason to be, but it still made you smirk a tiny bit. Shrugging half heartedly you mumbled,

“Now you know how I feel…”

Fred’s head shot up at this. Confusion written all over his face he questioned,

“Wait, you’re not with Cedric?”

“No, Fred! He’s my friend- unlike you and Angelina, I don’t snog Cedric.” Dragging your words out, you sent a knowing flare at Fred. He didn’t deny it though, which was what you wanted. If anything was going to happen between the two of you, you needed to be entirely honest and Fred was ready for that. Lifting your hand to his face, you opened your grasp fully, allowing it to rest against the warmth of his cheek.

“It was only once, darling. Just to see if something was there and… well, don’t tell Angelina, but it was bloody terrible. I was expecting it to be like that time we uh, ‘accidently’ kissed last year. Don’t know if you remember it but I certainly do. But um, yeah it was nothing like that. I remember when I kissed you, it felt like that feeling of comfort that I get whenever I step inside The Burrow. And with Angelina, it was more so empty. With you, I had fucking butterflies for weeks! After I kissed Angelina- I vowed I wouldn’t do it again. I never want to kiss any girl who isn’t you, I mean that, Y/n. I’ve had a crush on you since George and I sat next to you on the train to Hogwarts. I’ve been in love with you since we got off that train our first year, and I haven’t stopped since.”

“I remember everything about that day, you were my first kiss after all.” A smile graced your lips at the memory. You had joined the Weasley’s for the last month of summer break, only months ago. Fred, George, and yourself were up late one night in their room gossiping about the new drama you had missed while apart. You laid on your stomach on Fred’s bed, and George on his. Fred sat cross legged beside you, his arm lying on your back. After a few hours, Ginny knocked to inform you she was heading to bed. Taking a risky gamble, Fred begged Molly to let you sleep in their room on a makeshift cot. It took him a little over three weeks to get a yes from her- but with the limitation that the door stay open no matter the hour.

Ginny would stop in every night to wish you a good sleep. Although small in retrospect, this was a big reason Fred fell even more in love with you, the way his little sister looked up at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to ever lay foot on this earth- not that Fred would deny this. He agreed fully, but it made him happier than ever to know that his family loved you and consider you an honorary Weasley. He hoped one day he’d be able to make you an official Weasley, but that would come further down the road.

George crashed around three and Fred and yourself decided to lay in his bed for a few more hours before hitting the hay. You knew you’d have to sneak back to your cot before sunrise or Molly would execute Fred- not you of course, just Fred. She never found you guilty for any of their disastrous plans.

After an hour or so, you were laying next to Fred, staring up at the ceiling as he explained to you all the reasons on how he was superior to George in Quidditch, a conversation that he would only win when George was passed out. For some reason, this led to Fred rambling on about the first time he saw you flying, how he knew you would be an exquisite flyer. Maybe it was because of the kind compliments and the admiration it created inside of you but you placed a soft kiss to the corner of Fred’s lip mid sentence as he gushed about your Quidditch skills. 

As you pulled away, Fred pulled you forward again, this time initiating the kiss himself and smacking his lips entirely on yours. Although it was your first kiss, you caught on quick. Fred moved to hover over you which caused your kiss to break and reality to set in. You both went as white as a ghost, frozen in place. Fred just stayed on top of you, unsure of what to do next. His heart urged him to kiss you again but the look of shock on your face made him doubt this idea. After an awkward minute of this, you slowly slid out from under him and sprinted to the makeshift bed, hiding under the covers until morning. It was embarrassing to say the least but neither of you mentioned it since. You went back to normal the next day, pretending the kiss was a figment of your imaginations. But it was as real as your feelings and it happened. You pondered now if you had kissed him again back on that night, maybe you would’ve been together sooner.

Pulling you back into the moment, Fred peeled your hand from his face and scattered a line of kisses to your knuckles,

“If you’d let me, I’d like to be your last.”

“What exactly are you asking me, Freddie?” You smiled, a sugary confection grin, like the world was finally turning in your favor. A gleeful grin took over Fred at the nickname your gifted him. Leaving a chaste peck to the back of your hand, Fred leaned into your touch. “I’ve missed that so much, love. You’re the only one besides mum and George that can call me Freddie. But,” Eyes meeting your, you could feel your heart melting under his gaze. “I want to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend?” If you weren’t standing so close, his whispered words would’ve gone unheard. Luckily for the both of you, they fully registered in your head and heart. Pinching at the skin of your arm, you reassured yourself this was in fact real and not a dream. Fred really was standing in front of you confessing everything you had been dying to hear since your first year. You figured you must have been staring for far too long as a look of fear flashed across Fred’s face.

“Freddie, of course I’ll be your girlfriend!”

“Merlin’s beard- you had me scared, darling.” He hugged you close to his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart pounding against your ears. You could hear the nerves in his voice causing you to giggle against him.

“Did you really think I was going to say no?”

“I mean I have been a down right git these last few days so, can you blame me for being worried?” He pulled away to glance down at you with a funny expression. Scrunching your nose as if deep in thought, you shook your head.

“Nope.”

Skimming his thumb across your cheek again, Fred took a different approach this time. His body leaned in slowly to yours, stopping just before connecting to brush his lips against yours. The tips of your noses touched, making you laugh at the tickle. He took his time admiring every detail of your face so up close and personal. His eyes surveyed the miniscule dark spots kissing your s/c skin, the paint strokes of e/c in your eyes, the indented dimples in your cheeks and all the beautiful little details that crafted you.

Drawing in, Fred closed the inch of a gap by pressing his pursed lips against your own. Your knees gave out almost immediately at the intense passion and spark soaring through you. As if expecting you to stumble, Fred’s free arm was wrapped securely around your waist, supporting your body to a stand. Snaking your hands around his face, you mimicked his movements by enticing him in with your lips and kissing him deeply. You moved your hand down to his tie, gripping the satin material in your hand then whipped it towards yourself. Fred crashed further into your lips, a groan of pleasure emmitnating. His hand trailed from your waist to your hair, returning the action by tugging at your hair.

You gasped at the sensation, giving Fred the perfect window of opportunity to take the lead. The warmth, and wetness of his tongue slipped around your lip, then entered your mouth. You fought with him wanting to dominate the kiss but Fred was far too skilled.

His tongue danced with yours before flicking across your lips in a teasing manner. You giggled into his lips, a smile rising to Fred’s lips. Detaching himself from your embrace, Fred pulled back, then kissed your cheek. His hands found their previous position around your face. As he held your face in his hands, he leaned down to rest your foreheads against one another. Like a child whose mother just purchased him a puppy, Fred abruptly gushed,

“I can finally call you mine now, isn’t that wicked! Like… you’re my girlfriend now! Bloody hell, this is amazing. I should’ve asked you out years ago!” He chuckled giddly, squeezing your cheeks lightly in his hands. You pulled away, smacking his hands playfully.

“Tell me about it. Would’ve made this a whole lot easier.”

“Ah c’mon, love. Nothing worth it ever comes easy, right?” Fred smiled down at you, intertwining his large hand in yours. You peeked at the interlock, a grin rising to your face. Despite the annoyance of how long it took him, you couldn’t be happier now that he was truly yours. He was right, the wait was finally worth it. For once, your life was aligning with the script of a Hollywood film and it had never felt better.

Gripping Fred’s hand loving you tilted your head up at him,

“Is that your excuse for taking, what… six years?” His cheeks went red at this and he attempted to cover his face in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, darling! Oh wait- am I allowed to call you that, or is it still reserved for Diggory?” Wiggling his eyebrows at you Fred broke into a fit of chuckles. You hit his side, causing him to step back, though the laughter roared louder. Narrowing your eyes, you feigned anger as you spun on your heel and started to walk in the opposite direction, away from Fred.

“Shut up, Freddie! You want me to break-up with you already?” Fred knew you were joking, but he was a sucker for games. It didn’t take him long to catch up to you- his long strides were no match to your average ones. Wrapping his arms around your body from the back, Fred pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, blowing a rush of air in causing you to leap in surprise. 

“Oh, stop it, love! Don’t start with that, let’s at least make it a full day before any talks of breaking up.” Fred placed a ‘boop’ to your nose, then rejoined you at your side as you walked together to the dorm room. The other students had emptied from the halls. Passing by the large clock, you realized you were minutes from curfew. Pointing at the time, you motioned over to Fred. He swiveled his head to read the clock, a wild smirk marking his face. Speeding up the pace, the two of you were jogging to the common room, neither of you wanting to end up in detention. Just as you reached the fourth floor, a silvery and translucent figure swept across the opening of the corridor. You yelp in freight at the unexpected jump scare of a Hogwarts ghost. The Bloody Baron snapped his head at you with a nasty scowl. A silver, heavy chain hung around his neck, a punishment for his crime of murder. Although ghosts of Hogwarts weren’t ghoulish or frightening, The Bloody Baron had never been your favorite. Despite deceased, the throw of his glare felt real and caused your skin to crawl in fear.

Fred interjected, greeting The Bloody Baron kindly and apologizing for your reaction. The ghosts at Hogwarts were rather sensitive to their state. Besides, he always had a softer side for the twins. The Bloody Baron and Peeves were connected in a way so the Weasley twins always got a pass.

The ghost gravitated to the side of the entrance, allowing an opening for you to pass. You thanked him, apologizing for your previous reaction as you stepped past. As you made it out of his earshot, a stream of laughter poured from Fred. Tears pricked his eyes as he chuckled endlessly. You glared at him, warning him with just one look to keep quiet. Fred threw his arm around you, pulling you into his side. He leaned down to place a lingering kiss to your lips before chuckling again,

“C’mon, darling. I’ll protect you from all the ghosts.”

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L  |  T H R E E

You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   t h r e e  |  j e a l o u s y

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.3k warnings: angst tbh. and not the healthiest relationship but ya know what it’s billy so we persevere, unwanted advances, more angst x

I had a request for a jealous billy, so I hope you like my take on it x

That was the third time in the last thirty minutes that Steve Shit-For-Brains Orth touched you. Three fucking times. The first two times he was willing to look past but the third? Fuck no. The asshole, who was sitting with his clunky arm on the back of your chair, had not-so-casually rubbed his thumb along your spine, inciting a rather surprised look from you and a rather murderous one from Billy.

Of course, Steve couldn’t see the rage practically oozing from Billy, but boy was it there. Especially when you went out of your way to lean further into your desk as though to avoid his grabby little hands.

But that didn’t stop Steve.

Billy could see the frustration on your face as you fought to keep your cool in front of your classmates as his hand dipped beneath the desk to give your thigh a firm squeeze.

The same thighs that Billy’s face had been buried in just this morning.

All Billy saw was red as you pushed Steve’s hand away, muttering something to him under your breath before raising your hand to excuse yourself. With an anger so palpable radiating from his every pore, Billy watched you leave the classroom and thought of the various ways he could kill that fucker before you returned.

“Billy,” the girl, Sam, he’d been paired up with groused, “are you even paying attention?”

“No,” he simply said, barely hearing her above the sound of his own blood coursing to his ears. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry, of course, only irate. The vein in his neck pulsed against his skin as his blood pressure skyrocketed. This was the type of thing that drove him to the brink of insanity when it came to having to keep the two of you a secret for the sake of his plan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t parade you around like he wanted to, even worse that he knew, deep down, that your little arrangement hurt you beyond belief – but this? Watching you get pawed by these dickheads all the while he was forced to take a backseat?

He couldn’t stomach it.

His knuckles were white from the grip he had on his pencil but even as he felt it splinter off into his palm, his grip never waned. Not for a second. It was either that or kill Steve Orth and, while that sounded great, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

Just as the pressure of the pencil in his hand got to be too much, you waltzed back into the room with your head held high, seemingly unfazed by the naked eye – but Billy saw right through it. He knew you, more than either of you would like to admit, and he could see the irritation as clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of yours as Steve smirked playfully up at you from where he sat.

Subtly, you gave Billy a gentle nod, silently talking him down from doing anything stupid in the middle of the classroom, before taking your seat yet again.

Thankfully, Steve managed to keep his hands off of you for the remainder of the class but, unbeknownst to both you and Steve, that assholes fate had been sealed. Billy might not have been able to do anything to him yet, but he would. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

The bell eventually rang out and Billy, wasting no time at all, pushed himself off of his desk and walked up beside you. “You okay?” He asked, but his eyes were trained on Steve who was much too busy high-fiving one of his friends to notice Billy’s murderous stare.

“I’m fine, Billy,” you laughed, “he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.”

“Harmless?” Billy’s voice was low and impressively tame considering the fact that beneath it all, his blood was boiling. “He has no right to touch you.”

Glancing over your shoulder you smiled at one of the other cheerleaders before looking back at Billy. “I appreciate the concern, Billy, but I’m fine.”

That casual tone of yours just about killed him every single time. It was a punch to the gut compared the woman he had all to himself behind closed doors. This version of you, this censored version, was just a part of the charade, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

The rest of your classmates slowly filtered out of the room, eventually leaving you and Billy alone as you tossed your notebook into your bag. That weighty stare of his was ever present, but you pretended not to notice in fear of someone walking in. Billy Loomis was a lot of things, but subtle, he was not.

At least where you were concerned.

“That’s bullshit,” he seethed, “someone ought to show that fucker he can’t just go around touching what isn’t his. He—”

“What isn’t his?” A bitter laugh tumbled out of your lips. “I’m not a piece of fucking meat, Billy. I’m not his, sure, but I’m not yours, either.”

You watched the muscle in Billy’s jaw clench and that vein in his neck that always seemed to swell whilst he was under pressure visibly strained and pulsed before your very eyes. “I didn’t say you were,” he muttered, “I just meant that he needs to learn some respect.”

“He does,” you agreed, “but that’s not your job to teach him.”

Leaning against the desk, he ran a hand through his hair and glowered across at you. “I could tell it bothered you, so why the hell are you defending him?”

You rolled your eyes and swung your bag over your shoulder. “I’m not defending him, Billy. Steve’s an asshole, we all know this, but I don’t want you to get in shit thinking it’s your job to defend me. I can look after myself, Billy. I promise.” With another futile glance towards the door, you reached forward and gently ran your thumbnail against his bottom lip. “Besides, you’re too cute for a fistfight.”

Upon dropping your hand back down at your side, Billy caught it and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t help it if I get heated about all these assholes. Look at you.”

“You can help it, actually,” you laughed. “Don’t engage, first off. And, secondly,” you leaned in a little closer so that your lips were dangerously close to his ear, “try to remember who it is I’m fucking at the end of the day, hmm?” You pulled away and offered him a quick wink before walking out of the classroom. “See you at lunch, Loomis.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

“All I’m saying is that if he didn’t want me giving sage advice to those renting a fucking movie, then why hire me in the first place?” Randy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You, Tatum, Sid and Randy were all outside eating at the fountain whilst waiting for the other two idiots to join. Pushing your sunglasses further up your nose you smirked across at Randy. “Randy, you told the guy not to rent the movie. Your job is to make people want to watch these movies.” You popped a carrot into your mouth. “How you’re still employed is truly a mystery.”

“That’s the thing,” he laughed, “he fired me!”

“Shocking,” Sid chuckled, “what did you say when he fired you?”

Randy stole a celery stick out of your Tupperware container and bit down. “Nothing, I kept working. Fire me? Not on my watch. No thanks.”

With a shake of your head, you stretched out your legs on the concrete slab of the fountain and found Stu bounding towards you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you guys hear?” He asked, swooping down to kiss Tatum’s cheek. “Our man, Billy, snapped.”

You froze mid-bite and immediately looked at Sid who had sat up looking concerned as ever. “What?” She asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Billy and Steve, man,” Stu laughed and snatched a carrot stick from your stash. “The two of them got into it during one coach’s drills and Billy just,” he bawled his hand into a fist and slapped it against his other hand. A resounding smack echoed out around you. “Clobbered him, man. It was awesome!”

With your appetite long gone, you slowly swung your legs back onto the ground and pinched your brow. You were raging. Not only had the idiot ignored you by engaging with Steve, but he’d gone ahead and fought him, too.

“What?” Sidney croaked. “W-Why would he do that? He’s never been the type to just fight someone like that. Did Steve do something to provoke him?”

You chewed on your lip and stared ahead as Stu merely shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he stole another carrot and grinned at something in the distance. “Ask him yourself, here he comes.”

Your blood was boiling beneath your skin as you watched Billy casually waltz over to your group as though he wasn’t wielding one hell of a fucking bruise on his cheek, accentuated perfectly with a small, clean slice along his cheekbone that would almost surely scar. The fucking moron.

“Billy!” Sid gasped, jumping up to tend to her boyfriend’s injuries.

You, on the other hand, forever the other woman, remained dutifully planted on the edge of the fountain. Not that you would have tended to him in any way, shape, or form in that instance. In fact, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to add to the mess on his face.  

“I’m fine,” he muttered, giving her hand a quick kiss as she gently observed his cheek. “Things just got heated on the field, is all.”

“You should see the other guy,” Stu beamed, “I hear Steve lost a tooth!”

Your anger swelled, momentarily blinding you as the rest of your friends laughed and asked for a play-by-play of events. Not quite trusting yourself, you pushed yourself up from the edge of the fountain wall and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you guys later,” you hummed, not looking up at the bruised idiot in fear or snarling at him.

“You don’t want to stay for story time?” Stu asked, looking between you and Billy in amusement.

“Can’t.” Smacking on what you only hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head and gestured to the school. “Forgot I had a meeting with Miss Wills about getting my biology grade up.”

Just before you turned on your heel to head back into the school, you just managed to catch Billy’s eye as he dutifully sat beside Sidney. She was leaning into him, gently prodding the scar along his cheek with a concerned frown marring her pretty face. He, on the other hand, was staring evocatively across at you with a small frown of his own.

Clearing your throat, you waved them off rather quickly before heading back inside of the school. You were too angry to care about how you felt the weight of his stare all over you before finally disappearing from sight.

»»-------------¤-------------««

You locked your bedroom door that night and closed your curtains to avoid rolling over and seeing the idiot that was currently plaguing your every thought staring back at you from the second story of your house. In fact, that was what you did for the next three nights all the while managing to avoid Billy Loomis as much as humanly possible whilst at school.

So far, he had tried on four separate occurrences to get you alone. Whether it was subtly nodding towards an empty classroom with the gang around or lingering by your desk after English in hopes of pinning you down for a chat, it was obvious that Billy was desperate to talk with you. To smooth things over. To move on from this rather ugly display of jealousy.

But you weren’t. And, honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be any time soon, if at all.

A small dose of jealousy was only normal every once in a while. Not healthy, by any means, but a normal part of any relationship. Only this relationship you and Billy had was anything but normal. He had a girlfriend. A lovely, kind girlfriend who would have given him the world three times over if he asked. So just how Billy was the one with the audacity to be jealous made no sense.

Whenever you thought about it, you got mad. The injustice of it all was truly something you couldn’t wrap your head around. Just how Billy Loomis, the one with a girlfriend, could get jealous of a guy you were barely even acquaintances with really threw you for a loop. And yet you, the asshole who had somehow fallen in love with him, had to quietly take a seat and watch him dote over another girl in public.

Dote over your best friend.

Oh, the irony was delicious.

Tossing the book you’d been reading aside, you let out a quiet groan and closed your eyes as you heard the familiar jiggle of your window. It, like it had been for days, was still locked, thankfully, and your curtains still drawn in fear of seeing him.

The commotion tonight, was brief. He only tried for a second or two before you heard him meander his way back down to ground level. With an annoyed sigh, you reached for your book only to stop dead in your tracks when your doorbell rang out through your whole house.

Shooting up from your bed, you immediately lunged for the door and held your ear to it as your mother quietly complained about just who it could possibly be at this hour of the night.

Please be anyone else, please be anyone else, please be—”

“Oh, Billy,” your mother gushed. She’d always liked Billy. The traitor. “It’s awful late, is everything okay?”

Furling your brow, you pressed your ear further into your door and heard Billy’s deep voice say something – something probably charming – before your mother’s voice called up to you.

“Y/N, sweetie,” she beckoned, “Billy Loomis is here.”

You opened and shut your mouth several times over as you thought of your next few words. Somehow swearing at him from where you stood didn’t seem like the best idea with your parents in the house so, instead, you opted for the next best option.

You said nothing.

Holding your breath, you stood at the head of your room in nothing more than your flannel sleep shorts and tank top while hoping beyond hope that Billy would be ushered out of your house.

“I’m afraid she might be sleeping, dear,” your mother sympathetically cooed, “was there something you needed?”

Pressing your ear tighter to the wood, you barely made out the words ‘book’ and ‘homework’ before another sympathetic cluck escaped your mom’s lips. “And it’s due tomorrow?”

Bastard.

You panicked. His ploy was obviously to come up here and search for a book that didn’t exist all the while your parents carried on with their regular scheduled programming downstairs – but your parents weren’t dumb, nor were they naïve. Surely, your mother would offer to come up and root around for whatever it was he lied and said you had before she would inevitably have to wake you up in order to deliver the goods to the lying Loomis.

Your anger pulsed as realization dawned on you.

You had to go downstairs.

“Did you say something?” You asked, feigning innocence as you pushed your door open and made your way down, barely glancing at Billy who still stood in your entryway. “What are you doing here?”

Billy licked his lips. “I, uh, wanted to swing by and pick up the book for our English assignment. I think you must have grabbed mine, too, when you were putting your stuff away.”

“Nope,” you shrugged, “I don’t have it.”

Billy awkwardly smiled across at your parents before looking back at you. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you replied coolly. “Maybe you left it at Sid’s house?”

His shoulders briefly fell at your tone and, for a split second, you felt your heart fall into your stomach. You knew you were hurting him with the callousness of your words, but you had to stick to your guns this time around for your own sanity.

“Guess I must have misplaced it,” he wryly admitted. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs. Y/L/N.” His eyes flickered to you. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You nodded, prepared to watch him leave, but before he could get a foot out of the door, your mother stopped him.

“Wait, Billy,” she ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone for all of three seconds before she shuffled back in. “Here,” she held out a dish packed to the brim with Shepard’s Pie. “I know your dad’s been working a lot of late nights so dinner’s might not be the most well-balanced, but a growing boy has to eat.”

Feeding the enemy. Typical.

“Y/N made it,” she bragged, unwittingly fanning the flames of annoyance in your chest. “It’s delicious, too.”

Touched, Billy grabbed the Tupperware container from your mom before glancing at you. He knew you could cook, you’d cooked for him several times in the span of your friendship – long before the two of you began…doing whatever it was you were doing – but as he accepted the container, there was an emotion there that was much too raw and real for you to try and decompress.

You realized, slowly, that your mother’s offering of Shepard’s Pie was probably the first time a maternal figure had paid him any mind since his own mother had walked out on him all those months back.

Your stomach dropped at the thought.

“Y/N is a great cook,” he agreed. This time, his voice was much quieter. “And thank you again, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

Once again, you watched him turn on his heel to leave the house but, with that niggling feeling of guilt twisting inside of your belly, you opened your mouth before you could so much as think to stop yourself.

“I’ll walk you out,” you muttered, flashing your mother a fleeting smile. “Be right back.”

Slipping on some shoes, you ignored Billy’s obviously surprised face as he lingered in the doorway before finally looking across at him. “Let’s go.”

The night was brisk as the two of you strolled towards his car in silence. You shivered absentmindedly as your pajamas offered no real sense of protection from the chill before glancing at Billy. Naturally, his eyes were already on you.

“Do you think your mother’s watching us right now?”

“Knowing her?” You shrugged. “Probably.”

He swallowed hard. “We should talk about what happened.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I know what happened. You saw Steve touch me and got irrationally jealous over it and, rather than deal with it like a grown man, you punched him and he lost his fucking tooth.”

A flicker of anger crossed over his handsome features. “It’s not that simple, Y/N, he—”

“That is probably the only simple thing about our little situation, Billy,” you acknowledged quietly. “You got jealous and you punched a guy. Doesn’t get simpler than that.”

“He deserved it,” he argued. “He’s a moron and shouldn’t have touched you. Do you know how hard it is to see that and not defend you the way I wanted to while it was happening?”

“Defend me?” You sneered. “Or stake your claim on me? No offence, Billy, but the entire male population of our school could ask me on a date tomorrow, and you’d have no fucking say in the matter. Whether they touch me or ask me out or anything, because you and I aren’t a thing.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip as his grip on the Tupperware tightened considerably. “Yes, we are.” His voice was eerily calm despite the panic surging through his chest. “I love you, I told you that at the cornfield and I meant it. I fucking love you, Y/N.”

“You did,” you said, “and my feelings haven’t changed but you can’t be blind to the fact that this isn’t working, Billy. You getting jealous over me getting unwanted attention from a guy all the while expecting me to sit there and watch you and Sid flaunt your shit all over town?” You could feel your eyes begin to water as your emotions got the better of you, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t dare. “I’m supposed to sit there and trust what you’re telling me. That you will break up with Sid, that you do love me, that, if things were different, it would be me you’d be with and only me. But one guy squeezes my thigh and you lose your shit? Where’s the fucking sense in that?”

“I fucked up,” Billy admitted, his bravado long gone. “I see that now, I fucked up. But --”

“But,” you scoffed. “See, there it is. An excuse. I don’t want your excuses anymore, Billy. I want you and while I thought that was enough, I’m seeing it’s not that easy anymore. Not if you get to act like this unhinged asshole whenever I get a sliver of attention.”

You watched Billy’s eyes search your face as his hands trembled. He wanted to reach out and cradle your face, you could tell that much, but – tale as old as time – with an audience, even if it was just a possibility that it was your mother, he remained still. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice shaky. “Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sosorry.”

“I just think we need to take some time away from each other,” you muttered. “For our own sanity.”

“No,” Billy argued, stepping towards you in desperation. “No, Y/N, I need you. Please don’t do this.”

“I think you need to either make a decision with Sid or be more open with me about what the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours. You can’t go around punching people because you get jealous, Billy. And, until you figure your shit out, I think we should stop this. Whatever this is between us.”

“It’s a relationship,” Billy’s brows furrowed in outrage. “Two people who fucking love each other is a relationship, Y/N.”

A sad smile broke out across your face as you stared up at the starry sky above you. “Two people who love each other but can’t show it. Who have to hide whenever people are around in fear or being seen as anything more than good pals.” You shook your head and met his frenzied stare. “That’s not a relationship, Billy. That’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.” You sniffed and gestured down to the Tupperware in his hands. “Enjoy your food. I’m going back inside now, and I meant what I said. We need some time apart so, please, don’t come around here anymore. At least not until…” you let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of your next few words.

“Until what?” He was clinging to your every word but there was an anger so palpable radiating off of him that made you take a small step back. “Until you decide that you don’t want me anymore? Walk away and leave me like my mother did?”

You cocked your head to the side and hoped like hell the hurt you felt at that accusation didn’t directly show on your face. “If you truly think I would do that, Billy, then we’re even more fucked up than I thought.” You sniffed and began to turn back to your house. “I have a lot of faith in you, Billy, and a whole hell of a lot of trust. It’s about time you showed me that same consideration.”

The raw emotion on his face was jarring and almost made you hang back long enough to console him like you would any other time, but you couldn’t. If he couldn’t trust you, what the hell hope did either of you have at this becoming a real thing? Walking back to your house, your heart broke and any emotion you fought so desperately to keep down began to bubble to the surface. But you wouldn’t break down though, at least not yet.

You always had your cards on the table when it came to Billy Loomis and it was about time that he started showing his, as well.

[brittledame]

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori, Yamagata Hayato, Reon Oohira, Semi Eita, Shirabu Kenjirou, Kawanishi Taichi, Goshiki Tsutomu

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags: SFW, gender neutral reader, first date nerves, fluff, ages not specified

Notes: I did this instead of working on the other projects bc I wanted some fluff and here it is!

Ushijima:

On a visit with his grandmother is when he’s told about a local pottery masterclass happening the following weekend, piquing his interest

After some research, he comes to learnt that pottery is the perfect relaxing hobby with the added benefit of fine tuning his dexterity

It didn’t take much else to convince him to go

It was only after talking to a friend that he realises he should probably invite someone to tag along

After his grandmother politely declines, he follows her coy suggestion of inviting someone he likes

He invites you seemingly out of the blue

You’ve known him for a great deal of time and done some activities with him that could be construed as “romantic” and only started dating when Ushijima stated your relationship status to his team nearly a month ago

The look on your face when you found out at the exact moment as his team was priceless

After that, Ushijima left your relationship status on no uncertain terms and practically broadcasted it in his own unique way

This pottery class serves as another way to spend more time with you

After a few minutes of the pottery teacher painstakingly going through the motions to make a basic pot, a whirring noise followed by wet splattering steals your attention away from the clump of clay that is slowly taking form.

You glance over to find Ushijima looking at you, nonplussed at the mess of what was his pot now decorating his mock and forearms, his face is not left unmarked with the few splotches painting his cheek

You gape at him as he blinks as if coming out of a daze and looks down at the poor clump of clay and murmurs a small, “Oh.”

You didn’t mean to laugh, not really, but the utter surprise in his tone topped you over

After a mild scolding from the teacher and a new clump of clay, the two of you were good to go once again

The both of you took longer than most of the class, you with fussing about the tiny bumps you just couldn’t seem to smooth out and Ushijima with his second try

The class seemed to have unlocked his innate mastery of the ancient craft, as the pot looked near store-quality, you note with an ounce of envy

The group takes a break over some snacks and drinks as the pots are loaded into the kiln

Ushijima meticulously picks through the various glazes they had to offer, seeking your assistance after you picked your own out

You suggest the purple as homage to Shiratorizawa, where you two met, and the dark-rich brown, claiming it reminded you of his eyes

He considers you for a moment, a long enough pause for you to think over your words and begin to regret them before he nods decidedly and proudly presents the glazes he picked to the lady

With the class wrapping up, the lady running the class pops up as you two inspect your creations.

“Do you mind if I take a picture to post on our social media?”

Ushijima shakes his head as you answer, “We don’t mind.”

She flashes a wide smile and aims her phone in your direction. “Great! Say ‘pottery’.”

On cue you plaster on smile and brandish the clay creation as the camera clicks.

The lady, who is somehow even more dirtied than Ushijima, inspects the picture.

“You two are so cute together!” She fawns over the two of you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your date together.”

She disappears before either of you can correct her.

You blurt out, "Is this a date?"

A pause. Then a hum, "I suppose it is."

A shared smile, you leave the studio with linked hands.

When you get home, you prowl through the studio’s page and find the picture and break out into gut-clutching laughter at the almost-pained looking smile Ushijima makes, tiny pot perched in his large hands adding a comedic effect.

After you recover, you end up saving it and making it your screen saver.

Tendou:

For all his casual confidence, you’re the one to ask him out and he’s the one to officially declare it the “big” first date

The plan was to go manga/book shopping and eat at the in-store cafe

It sounded like a pretty cut-and-dry standard date but with Tendou anything can turn into an adventure

Ecstatic is an understatement on how excited Tendou was for the weekend

He was nearly berated a dozen times for not paying enough attention to what he was doing and almost caused a small fire at one stage

You didn’t fare much better, either

The pair of you got a great deal of laughter from relaying it to one another in the late night hours before meeting up

Although underneath it all lurked the residual anxiety he tried to fight away, so he reminds you during the call, just to check that you didn’t regret inviting him out

As much as he despised the thought, the dark voice whispering at him that you would stand him up were quickly silenced when you show up with a bright smile and his name on your lips

Tendou reckons it’s the sweetest noise he’s ever heard, right after your laughter that he coaxes out with the little melodies he sings to himself as the two of you make way to the popular bookstore

After arriving, you wonder apart to check out separate sections and end up meeting at again the in-store café with books in hand

Over the chocolate cake slice Tendou brought to share, you take turns to gush over the selected choices spread across the tabletop

“I mean it isn’t that over done.” You argue, popping another forkful of the overly-sweet cake into your mouth.

Tendou throws his hands into the air. “Are you serious? Hero meets bad guy, then they fight a whole bunch, bad guy kills a bunch of people and the hero never kills the guy because he ‘doesn’t want to stoop to their level’,” You don’t mask your laughter at the overexaggerated deep voice Tendou imitates. “It’s not fair to the people that the bad guy goes to hurt later on.”

“Oh, I entirely agree with you there.” You take a moment to wonder how Tendou has eaten nearly half the thing to himself already, you’ve barely been seated for longer than a few minutes. “When done wrong, the whole ‘taking the high ground’ troupe is really tacky.”

Tendou blinks at you like he didn’t expect you to respond. You raise a brow at him as a toothy grin spreads over his face, a slight pink painted across his pale cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing. I like talking to someone that knows their stuff, is all. Don’t get me wrong, miracle boy is great company, but I can only try to convince him to read more than the ads they run for so long before I go insane.” He chuckles under his breath, words heartfelt enough that a matching heat spreads across your cheeks.

“I enjoy this too.”

A wide grin overtakes his face at your admittance.

“Well then, let’s not stop!” He offers, stretching his hand towards yours. You clasp it, feeling delicate against his larger one. “I still have to tell you about the whole ‘boy is given power he doesn’t know how to control and needs to find a grumpy mentor’ troupe next!”

You squeeze his hand. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on that one.”

Tendou clicks his tongue and wags his finger at you. “It’s not necessarily about my thoughts, it’s the conspiracy I think the troupe ties into.”

The seriousness in his tone made you pause, looks like you were in for a long one.

Amongst him linking the heroes journey and the innate desire for power over others, you marvel at the way his whole body comes alive when talking about something he loves.

It’s much later on, when he’s introducing you to his friends at a reunion, that you notice the bubbly and animated way he presents you to his friends, love evident in each and every word.

Semi:

Now you would think he’d be the calm and collected one after knowing each other for half a decade and dating for a month

Nope.

He's the type to plan to ask you at the perfect time, and will be in a pissy mood if he misses the "perfect" opportunity to ask

When he does finally pose the question, you’ll say yes and he’s ecstatic

Though, he will play it cool and be like, "Ok I'll text you the details later." And flash you the biggest smile that has you melting inside just a little

When he's trying to sleep that night it finally hits him

Oh shit he has to plan a date with the girl he’s been hopelessly pining for

After one text from you confirming you don’t mind where he picks, he’s both relieved and more stressed because now he has to analyse every little thing he knows about you and eventually starts doubting himself

In the end, he decides to play it safe and go with the popular, family owned cafe that plays live music Saturday afternoons

It was perfect, the music act would be quiet enough to still talk if you two wanted or serve as a mediator to break any awkward silence should it pop up

It is honestly the perfect date, in his mind

Comes the day and he swings around your place after agreeing to walk to the café together

The walk is characterised with the brisk autumn wind and catching each other up on what’s been going on during the week

The conversation doesn’t stop from there – something Semi could cry happily over

After ordering and grabbing a seat close to a stage set-up to the side, you note how bright and talkative Semi is and vow to yourself to see this more often

As he takes a sip in the middle of explaining the difference pick positions affects plucking sounds, you comment on his excitement

Even with the flush on his cheeks, he holds a suave facade and merely says that it’s hard to unwind when his friends can be so chaotic when they get together

From there he starts opening up and imparting little facts about himself that you commit to memory

You come to learn that his favourite colour was corn-silk yellow before he went to Shiratorizawa, now it’s royal purple. He loves tekka maki and boasts his mum’s hand-made ones to be the best in the world and offers to share it with you next time she makes them

All of these things slot into what you know about Semi, filed alongside the nuance’s you’ve noticed yourself.

When he’s unsure or embarrassed, he tousles his hair. And when he talks about something he’s passionate with, his hands start gesturing all about the place

You could’ve spent the whole afternoon like that, in the intimately-lit café, hidden amongst the dull chatter of the surrounding patrons, just listening to Semi’s soothing timbre

But life had other plans

The lights on the stage brighten as someone wearing comfortable clothes strolls on and perches up on the stool set-up in front of a lone microphone. She didn’t give off any signs of discomfort at being stared at as she sets up her guitar, giving a few testing strums before introducing herself and launching into her music.

It was only then that conversation broke and ushered in a lilting voice floating on gentle notes.

“They’re amazing.” You breath, eyes not leaving the stage until the musician dismounts from the stage.

“That’s what I want to do one day.”

You turn to him. “Really?”

“Yeah.” The corner of Semi’s lips quirk up a bit, a secret shared unto himself.

“Why?”

Genuine curiosity spurs you to ask, to know. While you could picture Semi perched on the same stool with a guitar all too easy, you never really thought Semi would pursue a career in the industry.

Semi finally turns to you, a fire in his eyes that was normally caused by volleyball and a good challenge. “I want to make people happy and sad - all the emotions really. I want someone to look at me like you did to that girl.”

Tilting your head you say, “Looking at her like what?”

Semi audible swallows. “Like someone that loves the music I make.”

Reaching over the table, you run your thumb over the backs of his knuckles, a comforting gesture. “Semi, I already love talking to you and hanging out, so why wouldn’t I like the music you write?”

The resultant blush on Semi’s face was answer enough to that, even though he tries to hide it behind his cup.

After that, meeting up at the café ends up becoming a weekly occurrence, an oasis that you both look forward to in the midst of life’s chaos.

Yamagata:

Yamagata actually is the smoothest out of them all

After a two weeks of dating, he bounces up to you after a particularly hard day and offers to take you somewhere fun the next day

Your definition of ‘fun’ varies from his, as you soon find out

Where Yamagata believes the best way to get to know someone and have fun simultaneously is putting them through challenges, whereas you believe sitting down and chatting to be the most optimal method

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, the paint ball range is closed

Amusement park it is

He leaves it as a surprise and doesn’t tell you until you question the sign of the park he visited frequently as a kid

Overall, you have an absolute ball with him, never a dull moment

Especially after the ferris wheel when Hayato goes to reach for his phone to check the time and finds it missing

The only reason he had it out in the plastic swinging booth was to take a sneaky picture of you looking carefree and relaxed as you gazed down at the park – not that he admitted to that when you asked just how it escaped his pocket

Obviously, it was a very slippery phone since this was the third time this week alone he lost it

After tracking it down with the help of the kind but tired ride operator, the two of you were on your merry way to the next ride, but not without a few light-hearted digs at Yamagata’s forgetfulness

You get to learn a lot about each other personally while waiting in line and over lunch after recovering

At the end of the day, your cheeks ache from much smiled

“I don’t remember it being that crazy as a kid.” Yamagata says, looking pale and breathing shallowly, as if to keep himself from being sick.

You couldn’t blame him, the rollercoaster he convinced you to go on under the guise of “This was my favourite one as a kid! You wouldn’t deny a man from reliving his childhood, would you?”

And like a fool you caved under the pout like a badly cooked soufflé. Now you wished you put up a bit of a fight against going on it. The screams of the riders before you were not exaggerated in the slightest.

“I don’t know how they allow kids on that.” Is all you supply, feeling a little green as well.

Yamagata directs you to the nearest bench and you follow his lead and slump into the seat.

“I don’t know how I forgot how much that thing threw me around. I must’ve just about fell off as a tiny kid. Remind me to thank my dad for coming on with me.”

You try not to laugh at the image of a tiny Yamagata ecstatically cheering as the ride swings around corners at full speed as his dad frantically tries to keep his clueless son from getting tossed out of the cart.

“Your dad is a brave man to go on that thing wilfully.”

Yamagata grimaces. “Brave is a nice way of putting it. I’d call it being insane to put up with me wanting to ride it eight times over.”

This time you do laugh.

“It must be hard saying no to your own kid, though, so cut him some slack.” You joke, knocking your elbow against his side.

He playfully pushes you away, widely grinning once again. The heat from the sun blaring ahead suddenly floods into your cheeks. The sensation of your heart feeling too large for your ribcage seizes you.

And the feeling doesn’t leave, it sticks with you as he laughs, as he drops his ice cream and pouts like a child. It intensifies as a dreamy look enters his eyes as he recalls a fond memory associated with a ride.

You hope that one day that he makes the same expression when he recalls this day spent with you.

Reon:

For some reason, Reon seems like the kind of guy to be inherently talented with gardening

He’s the resident green thumb alongside Ushijima, people pass their dying plants into Reon’s hands for magical resurrection

So it was a no-brainer for him to take you to the local botanical gardens

Rife with both native and exotic flora, there were many scenic walks available, thus was the perfect place for a first date to Reon

Reon meets you at the gates with a soft greeting and an outstretched hand – you two walk through the park with your hand intertwined like that for the rest of the day

Throughout the walk, he points out flowers and gives you their common name and their meanings, along with the meanings he gave them as a kid

It was entirely too cute for your poor heart

“And those are yellow carnation.” He points to a patch of bright yellow flowers with soft-looking ruffled petals. “They represent dislike and disappointment towards the person you give them to, but as a kid I thought they meant that she was my sunshine because of the colour. My mum got quite the kick out of it when I gave them to her for her birthday.”

You burst into laughter, unable to smother it even with Reon’s apparent embarrassment at the event

If your allergies start to play up too badly, Reon will take you to his favourite part, a densely packed section of the gardens filled with trees, concealing a secluded tiny red bridge stretched across a large koi pond with the largest and most colourful koi you’ve seen

Everything within you wanted to stretch this moment out, you could easily live in this moment forever. The buzzing of cicadas in the distance, the grass blades tickling the palms of your hands from where you sat, the soothing rumble of Reon’s voice – this is your personal slice Elysian peace

You did not want to give this up

It’s there that he finally unlinks your hands and brings out the packed lunch he made.

“You made all this?” You gape, taking in the diverse range of food he brought out of his bag.

From seared fish placed neatly atop seasoned rice, to perfectly rounded onigiri. In the next box he opens sat seasoned chicken and beef slices that made your mouth water. Not to mention the salad of rich greens, reds, and yellows that called your name.

Reon chuckles at your awe. “Yeah, I did. I thought it would be nice to eat something home-made while out here, but if you wan to grab something else-“

You cut him off immediately. “Definitely not! This looks and smells amazing. It would be a crime not to eat it.”

The corners of Reon’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I did try not to burn it, so I hope it tastes nice.”

“If it tastes even half as good as it smells, you’ll have to fight me to stop eating.” You reply, accepting the plate he holds out and give thanks as he starts loading your plate.

“I’d never stop you from eating,” he clicks his tongue in false sternness, to which you grin at. “If you’re hungry, I’ll feed you until your happy.”

“I’m happy right now, but I definitely still want the food.” You cheekily fire back.

Reon shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well then, eat to your heart’s content.”

Taking a bite, you startle Reon with your enthusiastic reaction.

“This tastes better than I imagined.” You gush after swallowing, immediately scooping up another forkful and eating it.

Reon brushes off your compliment in favour for leaning forward and brushing some crumbs off your face. The proximity as your breath stalling in your throat as he lingers for a heartbeat longer, then withdraws.

“I hope we can do this more often. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.” He quietly admits, the mood taking an intimate turn even with the shouts of kids playing in the distance.

“Me too. I don’t want this date to end.”

Shirabu:

This man prides himself on being observant and not oblivious like how his friends are

And yet, contrary to this, it takes him several trips to realise that he’s been on what would count as a date with you

You'll talk about needing a new jumper for winter and Shirabu will ask to tag along. You wanted to watch a movie? Shirabu is coming too. Like having someone besides you while studying? Shirabu was your go-to study buddy, whether in silence or as a conversation partner when your brain was overloaded

Out of the blue, he asks with no certain amount of panic, "Were those trips I went on with you dates?"

"I never really gave it much thought…” You match Shirabu’s expression as you consider his question. "I didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume that they were, and you never brought it up, so I left it be."

"Let me have a re-do." Determination flares in his usually guarded eyes and you couldn't refute.

“Gladly.”

Shirabu glances away from your face, unable to bear looking at the fond expression you wore for too long without his heart suffering. “I want to take you somewhere nice.”

“Everywhere I go with you is nice, Shirabu. It’s less about the place and more about the person.” You rebuke.

Shirabu looks away before you catch the full extent of his blush at your words. “No, I mean I want to take you somewhere that can become special for the both of us.”

You catch his hand in yours, tugging it for him to turn back towards you. Gone was the characteristic impassive façade, now replaced with a tenderness that makes you near melt.

Your first official date with him is a picnic in a park on top a hill to watch the sunset

Something he thinks is extremely cheesy and overdone but the look of excitement on your face immediately silenced his rebuttals

There was no way in hell that he was going to be the reason for your disappointment if he can help it

As such, he went all out

Hiring the gazebo and ordering food to be delivered from a restaurant he knows that you’ve wanted to try out for the longest time

Not that he actually tells you, but it wasn’t hard to deduce his excitement when he waits for you at the gazebo with a small smile, dressed nicely in pressed slacks and a dress shirt with a bundle of flowers

Upon the wide-eyed stare he receives from you, he spends the first minutes of the date describing what the florist thought best for him

A bunch of camellias ranging from a deep and vivid red to the first blush of love pink to the innocence of white gathered in a golden ribbon. He doesn’t exactly tell you their meanings other than a short, “Flowers are flowers, all I want them to show is that I love you.”

What he didn’t know was that the florist had the foresight to hide a card detailing the meaning of each flower amongst the paper holding them

White camellias meaning “You’re adorable” to red camellias meaning “You’re a flame in my heart” (something you blush at in the security of your own home) and the pink one representing longing

As the meal arrives and the two of you eat, the conversation drifts from current events to bits and pieces of everything and anything

The highlight of conversation was Kenjirou’s answer to the question “What do you think you’ll see first: a ghost or an alien?”

Apparently Kenjirou was secretly a space-lover

From the lecture he launched into about the statistics of it all and you come away from that conversation with more knowledge of possibility of E.T's versus spectres than you would’ve thought

The afternoon starts fading into dusk quicker than you realised, too wrapped up trading short anecdotes of your respective families

Shirabu only realises the fading light once the fairy lights decorating the space become brighter, and it is only then that Shirabu like a gentleman, brings out a blanket and escorts you to the grassy knoll besides the gazebo

Laying out the blanket, you notice it’s the perfect position to watch the sun set and you can’t help but give him a quick hug in gratitude before you sit down and make yourself comfortable

It floored you how much effort and consideration he put into this one afternoon amongst all his classes and assignments – it made you feel incredibly warm against the cool night air creeping in

As you shift to get comfortable, your hand lands on top of his. You’re just about to whisk it away, but he shoots you a soft smile and twists his hand in your grasp and gives it a squeeze

Your hands stayed intertwined as the blues faded into pinks and oranges, then into purples and the deep satiny blue of the night sky

The sunny photos with matching smiles from that afternoon soon decorate your wall

Kawanishi:

Unlike the others, Taichi really doesn’t care about being seen as “basic” for taking you out to watch a movie and grab dinner afterwards

He asked you out so casually, you agreed without it even hitting you that it was a date until he grinned at you and cheekily replied, “Great, it’s a date then.”

The movie in question was one you’ve been waiting forward for its release and Taichi was interested in it as well, so really it was an excuse for the both of you to watch the movie together instead of alone.

It went great, asides from the old couple staring the two of you in line, not so quietly reminiscing their first date

Embarrassment aside, Taichi was sweet throughout the entirety of it

Arguing to pay until reluctantly splitting the bill when you argued that it wasn’t fair

Waiting outside for it to start, Taichi and yourself bide the time by guessing what the other movies were about by their posters and making each other laugh

Once the movie starts, the chatter between you two dies down, yet the casual intimacy doesn’t fade in the slightest

Sharing an arm rest, the both of you exchange glances at one another throughout the movie, and bump elbows when something interesting or funny happens

It was a far-cry from the intimacy of the other’s dates, but it was perfect for the two of you

By now, the two of you have been friends much longer than you have been dating

Neither of you wanted to rush things, happy to take it as it comes and retain that familiarity from years of friendship stay untainted from the innate awkwardness of new love

Coming out of the theatre, Taichi is the most talkative you’ve seen him yet as he offers his opinion on the film

You avidly listen without a word of complaint

It was nice to hear what went through Taichi’s mind when he always kept his emotions close to his heart, you felt damn-near jubilant over him coming out of his shell – even after all the years of friendship

He offers to grab dinner and after a mild debate over which place is better, you end up flipping a coin and grabbing some fast food and eating it at a near-by park

Eating the meal in relative silence, it was only broken to point out the ducks and giving them names. It was laid-back and you were enjoying yourself, yet Taichi remained stiff by your side.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly the most romantic date.” Taichi rubs at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes.

You quirk a brow at him. “How isn’t this a romantic date?”

Taichi finally looks at you, although in confusion. “Because I should’ve taken you to a nice, fancy restaurant for our first date.”

“I work on the belief that anywhere is romantic if you make it so. It depends on the company.” You shrug.

Taichi’s mouth curves into a smirk. “Oh? So you wouldn’t mind having our next one at a cemetery?”

You dig an elbow into his side and roll your eyes at the performance he puts on.

“That’s not what I meant, smartass.”

Taichi stops the pouting and slumps into the seat. Hating the sombre mood he’s in, you curl your arm through his and tuck into his side.

“Besides, you can always make it up to me in the future. I want the place to be so expensive that the proportions are baby-sized.”

Taichi’s rich laugh rumbles through you. It was a losing battle against the rapid thrum of your heart and the thoughts of warmth that consume you with his proximity.

You also didn’t try to fight the urge to cuddle further into his side, something he gladly accepted as he wraps his arm even tighter around you.

“I promise.” He sighs, a happy noise as he rests his head against yours, two bodies becoming one whole on that one spring afternoon.

Goshiki:

Not everything in life is a competition, yet Goshiki couldn’t thrive without it

Besides, if he thought too long and hard about it (which he did) an arcade date was the best option

It presented the perfect chance to show off his skills and impress you

When he finally works up the courage to ask you, it had been a while since you’ve been, so you were more than happy to accept

Goshiki deflated with relief because a back-up option didn’t exist

Even after dating for over a month by this point, this would be the first official date he’s taken you out on

After worrying that it was too childish or not at all romantic for a first date, you spent the better half of the afternoon before it convincing him otherwise

At the arcade, Goshiki takes your hand and guides you around the place, pointing out games he bested as a teenager before finally settling on war-cross-zombie two player shooting game

With the growing win streak, the two of you continue playing the game until Goshiki accidentally gets his player killed

Pouting, he suggests a different game to soothe his bruised ego

The pout disappears as he finds a different game he’s decent at, tickets flying out as the points rack up

He glows as you praise his skill

It was too easy to bait him into playing hoop games, which he surprisingly sucked at

You discovered him to be especially gifted at reflex games, where the both of you won the most tickets

With each claw game he stubbornly refuses to “eat his hard-earned money”, he proudly passes off each plushie to you

Goshiki wins whatever prize your eyes linger over, no matter how frustrated it makes him

With each one, you promise to keep and inwardly muse that you’ll have to install a new shelf for them

A few hours deep, you had managed to win him an eagle. It’s the only prize you had won big enough to portray the amount of affection you held towards the bowl-cut male.

It was a bit mishappen and looked more fit to be the mascot for a horror game than a children’s show, however you still offered it to him.

His eyes grow wide. “Really?”

“I mean, I can get you something better if you give me a few minutes…” You frown at the plushie as Goshiki holds it up. It’s even uglier in the light. Why the hell would they have this as a prize?

You reach out to grab it from him and Goshiki snatches it away from your grasp, pressing it into his chest and curling around it protectively. “No!”

You stand there, stunned, as Goshiki flushes at the looks he got from the shout and starts stumbling over his words.

“I mean, it’s fine and not creepy at all – No, I mean it’s cute,” he unconvincingly amends at your wince. “It’s something that you worked hard to get. I’ll treasure it forever, I swear.”

The conviction in his voice was enough to ease your concern.

“I could get you a better one, though. One that’s less creepy.” You offer, gesturing towards the wide array of claw machines boasting figurines and cuter plushies.

“No thank you. I like this one.” Goshiki is stubborn and you should’ve expected that.

You sigh, lips unsurely pulling upwards. “If you’re sure?”

Goshiki gives a sharp nod, and you know that that’s the end of that. He would not budge.

Yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to be exasperated at the awe-filled look he gives the plushie as you two leave the arcade, holding it like it was made of expensive finery instead of cheap thread and fabric.

Months later you got to see the monstrosity again, tucked up on the shelf above his bed, proudly sitting between medals he’s won through the years.

[bubbble-t]

Gummies

Ji Changmin x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: In which Reader decides to help Rich School Boy Changmin outside of a convenience store, their encounter blossoming into an unexpected friendship

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: This was originally an angst... don‘t know how it turned into a fluff, but I’m not even mad :)

It happened during your junior year of high school. Both of you knowing of each other’s existence prior to this, whether it be through class or simply seeing the other walking the halls, but not quite knowing enough about the other to consider yourselves friends. So when the opportunity came for you to learn more about Ji Changmin, it came like second nature.

The boy stood at the entrance of a convenience store located near the school, holding a plastic bag and looking awfully confused, continuously looking between his phone and the oncoming crowds of people. At first, you just passed him and entered the store, finding it odd seeing him there when he usually leaves in the sleek black car that the male population at your school talks about every time they see it pulling up. You took your time browsing the different selections the store offered, periodically glancing up to see if he was still on the other side of the glass doors. In the end, you grabbed some drinks and snacks you usually buy, taking more interest in the boy in front of the store (who now looked rather frustrated) than whatever was inside of it.

Turns out, his friends had thought it’d be funny to ditch Mr. Richboy while he was inside buying things for their little hangout and made their way to the park first, leaving him behind by himself. You offered to show him the way, being a frequent visitor of that particular park and all, however, you never imagined how this small act of kindness would change your life from that point moving forward.

And so, you began walking with this person who might as well be a stranger, talking about anything and everything and even sharing some snacks on your way there. Surprisingly, you found out that the two of you had way more in common than expected, creating an instant spark as some would say. When you guys finally found his group of friends, you parted ways, feeling somewhat content in the moment, yet already feeling a sense of yearning for the next when you’ll be able to talk again.

It’d be a lie to say Changmin didn’t feel the same.

The two of you began interacting more after that. It started with the smallest things; waving to each other in the halls instead of just glancing, comparing answers in class instead of just acknowledging each others’ presence, which then led to sharing homework when one forgot and creating an extra set of notes when the other was sick. You and Changmin were definitely no strangers now, to say the least, always hanging out together with his friend group and goofing around at school, and by senior year, at his or your own home.

“Who would’ve thought I’d ever get the chance to lay in your bed, huh Changmin?” you teased as you popped another gummy in your mouth, recrossing your arms behind your head after. The both of you had decided to go back to his place with the intent of finishing up a project, but you knew that wouldn’t happen any time soon with all of the junk food you guys bought on the way. And yes, you did get to ride in his expensive black car.

“You know, only a handful of people have the privilege of gracing their eyes on my bedroom, not to mention physically touching my bed. Multiple times at that.” Changmin retorted before diving on the bed to join you, taking a gummy from your hands as you were about to eat it, earning him the side-eye before you grabbed another one.

“Hmm, what? No girls been here or somethin’?” You said while chewing on a gummy, knowing fully well that only the other boyz are able to come up to his room.

“Oh, you wanna play like that?” He warned before lunging over you to grab the bag of candy from your side, turning his body away from you and curling himself around it so you wouldn’t be able to get it back.

“Hey, I was enjoying those!” you made a move to take it back but Changmin just hugs the bag closer to his body, laughing at your feeble attempt. You huff, already giving up and opting to open the strawberry milk in the bag beside his bed. Taking a sip, you put it on his bedside drawer and leaned against his bedframe.

“But really, why is that?” you question him, “It’s not like you’re that ugly that all the girls are repulsed by your face, plus your grades are good and you’re even good at dancing.”

“Hoho, are you just saying this to get the gummies back?” He turned his head in your direction to squint his eyes at you but still kept his body facing the other way.

“Maybe…” you replied mischievously, jokingly reaching over for the bag before Changmin turns his head away from you again and curls even tighter.

“Still, why haven’t you ever brought a girlfriend over? You’re literally every mom’s dream come true. I bet the dads wouldn’t even mind having you around either…” you say more to yourself in thought than to him, taking another sip of your strawberry milk.

Changmin sighed, “Because all of them are fake. They measure my worth in my money, only seeing how many materialistic things they can squeeze out of me before they leave in the end.” He rolled onto his back and looked up towards the ceiling, closing his eyes and fishing out a gummy before offering it to you. You took it from him with a hum.

“Are you not scared I’ll do the same?” you asked as you finished swallowing your gummy. He opened an eye to briefly look at you before closing it again and slightly shook his head.

“Your question already tells me enough, there’s no malice or ill intent behind it.” Changmin easily replied.

That piqued your curiosity. “How do you know I’m not acting? I could very well be trying to deceive you so I can steal that car of yours.” The boy groaned before sitting up and looking you straight in the eyes.

“Are you really that curious?” you nodded your head slowly, making Changmin run a hand down his face before facing you lazily again.

“I know because of your body language. You’re so relaxed right now you’ll be out like a light in the next half hour. There’s no way you’d ask that question so casually unless it was to feed your honest curiosity.” You could only blink back at him, not knowing what to say.

“Plus,” he added, “you’ve never even batted an eye at all the expensive decor in my house after the first couple times of seeing it. Even now, there’s a whole row of watches and expensive jewelry lined up on the other side of this room, but the only thing you were staring at before I sat up was the bag of candy in my hands.” He even shook it for extra emphasis. You just looked at him sheepishly before he let out a light chuckle.

“You’ve never asked me to buy you anything,” he said before taking a pause, thinking, “Except the couple of times you didn’t have enough money to buy strawberry milk, but even then, you paid me back after.”

Still looking dumbfounded by how observant he is, Changmin sighed and decided to demonstrate it to you. He took out his wallet from the drawer beside you. Pulling out a wad of cash that he couldn’t be bothered to count, he held it out in one hand while having the bag of gummies in the other.

“If I had to guess right now, out of the two options, you would snatch the bag of candy out of my hand without giving a second thought to the few hundred dollars just inches away from it.” Your eyes bulged at the mention of that much money being offered to you so easily.

“So, what’s your choice?” Changmin raised an eyebrow, “Unless you wanna prove me wrong?”

If it was any other situation, you would be more than eager to accept his challenge. However this time, you knew your choice without hesitation. You reached for the bag from his hand, but before you could fully take it, he pulled you into him, surprising you.

“That’s how I know,” he said softly, prolonging the hug for just a few more seconds before pulling away. He’ll never admit it, but your choice meant everything to him, more than words can describe.

Still stunned, you decide to ask, “Do you do that to all of your friends?”

“Do what?” He said, reaching around you to grab your strawberry milk, taking a sip of it.

“Hey! Stop!” You finally snapped out of it, trying to defend your precious milk. “Do... all of that to your friends when they ask” you gestured with your hands.

“Hmm,” he pretended to pause,

“Just the ones I like”

[handsoffmyfriends]

Breaking Expectations

— when you transfer into the hero course for your second year, you have a lot of expectations regarding your soon-to-be classmates. of all the people to not meet your expectations, bakugou katsuki ranks number one, but you find that you aren’t disappointed in the slightest

PARING: bakugou katsuki x reader WORD COUNT: 1,852 WARNINGS: bakugou swears like the bakuhoe he is

A/N: my first one shot 🥺🥺 i really wanted to write something cute and fluffy and angst free for once, i hope i did okay!! warming myself up for opening up requests !

Part 2

You weren’t sure what you expected when you transferred into the hero course, but somehow befriending the hot-headed Bakugou Katsuki hadn’t even been within the realm of possibilities. You respected his undeniable power, but his personality left much to be desired. You, like the rest of the school outside of the hero course, believed he was nothing more than a feral child with a superiority complex. All you had ever heard about him was how angry he was and how poorly he treated everyone around him. Hell, the guy called his best friend “shitty hair” for crying out loud. It left you feeling not as excited as you should have been when you found out you were transferring into Class 2-A.

Your first interaction with the angry boy left you wondering just how much of the rumours you’d heard had been just that; rumours. You thought for sure he was going to yell at you when you’d been thrown into him during hero training, but he’d simply helped you steady your footing and told you to be more careful. His tone always held a note of anger, you’d found, but the way he helped you and proceeded to back you up during the exercise left you feeling like you’d completely misjudged him. 

You couldn’t shake the guilt at how poorly you’d originally viewed him, so you approached him later that day in the dorms. Thankfully, he was by himself, sitting on the sofa scrolling through his social media. You weren’t sure how you’d have spoken to him if other people were around. 

Still, you weren’t sure how to start the conversation. He very clearly didn’t want to be disturbed, but he was out in the communal living space, so surely he expected to be disturbed? You stood there like an idiot for several long seconds, agonising over how to begin, but once again, he surprised you. 

“Don’t stand there all day,” he growled out, flicking his crimson eyes up at you. “Couches are free real estate. Don’t need my permission to sit your ass down.” He returned his attention back to his phone.

You stiffened slightly at his bluntness. Again, you hadn’t known what to expect, but that certainly wasn’t it. “Ah, that’s not what I came over here for.” 

He looked back up at you, this time putting his phone aside and giving you his entire attention. “If it’s about before, don’t worry about it. Everyone does dumb shit during the exercises. Dunce Face does something stupid every fucking time.” 

You frowned in confusion before realising he meant Kaminari. You shook your head, finding your voice. “Ah, it’s not quite that either, though I am very sorry about getting in your way. It was a lot more intense than I thought it was going to be.” 

Bakugou shrugged with indifference. “You did alright to me. Better than that grape fucker we had last year.” 

You dug through your brain to figure out who he could have possibly meant before noticing you were getting distracted. “It’s— I mean... I came over to apologise to you! For misjudging you!” You blurted your thoughts out before they got lost on the way to your mouth. It came out a lot less eloquently than you intended. At his furrowed eyebrows, you tried to save face and explain yourself. “I just... I needed to apologise. You aren’t at all how I thought you would be.”

His expression darkened. “Let me guess, you thought I’d be some kind of villain in the making? Some asshole that would stomp you into the ground without a second thought?”

You didn’t respond, but it was answer enough for him. 

He sighed deeply, releasing his frustrations. “Look, that shit was probably true a year ago. I get why you’d think that.” He pulled his phone back out, returning his attention back to it. “People change, believe it or not. But, thanks... for being upfront, I guess.”

You weren’t sure how you felt about the conclusion to the conversation, but it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You didn’t feel right just walking away after that either, so you took a seat on the couch, a comfortable distance away from him, and pulled out your own phone to browse your social media. 

You looked back up at him sharply when you noticed the new friend request notification pop up. The Bakugou Katsuki had just sent you a friend request. He seemed entirely unaware of you staring at him in disbelief, despite having just sent you the request. He continued to scroll through his phone, very pointedly not looking up at you. 

You decided not to make a big deal out of it, since he wasn’t either. 

-- 

Bakugou continued to surprise you as the weeks and months went by. Sure, he was as angry as you had been led to believe, but it wasn’t a personal anger that you had assumed. He was just a shouty kind of guy. He called all his friends insulting nicknames, but they were said with a strange kind of fondness, like insults were the only way he could allow himself to show affection. He even had one for you, and if anyone else had called you that, you would have been really offended. Coming from Bakugou, it was strangely nice. 

You found yourself hanging out with him more and more. Not through any intentional planning, but the two of you just ended up in the same places at the same times. He was almost always accompanied by Kirishima, who was always overly happy to see you, almost like he was making up for Bakugou’s lack of enthusiasm. You didn’t mind the extra company, though you found you liked your alone time with Bakugou even more. 

Sometimes, it was just studying together. Sometimes, you both didn’t say a word, simply enjoying each other’s company. When you did talk, it was comfortable. Bakugou wasn’t a big talker, but you could tell he really trusted you when he did talk to you about more serious topics than the weather. You treasured those moments. 

--

“Hey, Y/N! We’ve been looking for you!” Kirishima called out, pulling you from your book.

“Oh, Kirishima, Bakugou,” you greeted pleasantly, giving up on studying. You probably shouldn’t be studying in the communal area anyway. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Kirishima grinned impossibly wide, showing off his famously sharp teeth. “Bakubro here wanted you to join us for squad movie night.” 

Without hesitation, Bakugou threw a punch at Kirishima, right in the face. The red-head had apparently been expecting it, since he’d hardened up instantly and was left entirely unaffected by the slug. “Shut the hell up, shitty hair, you make it sound so fucking creepy!” 

You laughed at their bickering, finding it endearing. How you had ever thought Bakugou was an asshole to his friends was beyond you. The words themselves were harsh, but the emotions behind them spelled out an entirely different meaning. He was embarrassed.

You decided it was too good an opportunity to pass up. “Squad movie night, huh? I didn’t know I was part of a squad.”

Kirishima threw an arm around Bakugou. “I’ll add you to the group chat! But, you gotta come for movie night first! It’s like, initiation.” 

You giggled. “Alright, alright. I need a break anyway.” 

-- 

That’s how you found yourself curled up on the couch, pressed up against the arm of the three seater. It seemed squad movie night was an accepted practise in the dorm, since no one other than Bakugou’s friends were present despite being hosted in the communal area. 

Mina had picked the movie, which was surprisingly an action packed thriller, not a rom-com that you’d have expected from her. It suited you just fine, since you weren’t exactly in the mood for a rom-com. 

You’d sat down first, since you weren’t sure who did what when it came to movie time. Kaminari handed around little bowls full of snacks for everyone, while Sero and Kirishima pulled out a plethora of comforters, blankets and pillows, passing them around to everyone. You suspected they were from everyone’s rooms and you suddenly felt lacking since you hadn’t brought your own. This certainly wasn’t what you’d expected to come along to. 

You continued to be surprised when Bakugou took a seat next to you and threw his comforter over you. “Bring your own next time,” he growled at you, adding on your insulting nickname. 

You figured Kirishima would sit next to Bakugou, but he just sat down on the other couch with Sero. Mina had created a nest on the floor, pillows and blankets piled into an impossibly comfortable mound of plush. She practically disappeared into it when she laid down in it. 

You found it hard to concentrate on the movie with Bakugou so close to you. You were surrounded  by his smell, burnt sugar and smoke, a combination that you would have thought to be repulsive. Instead, it wrapped you up and made you feel nice and warm. Although, that probably had to do with the fact that Bakugou was so close to you that you could feel his body heat. The sudden realisation had you barely able to breathe.

Why did you suddenly feel so weird? No one else made you feel like your heart was in your throat, so why did Bakugou? 

You think your heart completely stopped when Bakugou very casually threw an arm behind you. Well, behind the couch was more accurate, but it was still behind you and when your heart came back online, it was working double time. 

“Fuckin’ relax,” he murmured, eyes never leaving the screen. When you didn’t relax quick enough for his liking, he turned his crimson gaze onto you, those red eyes boring in your own. “I can move if you’re that fuckin’ uncomfortable.” He probably meant to come off blasé, but you could hear the underlying hurt in his voice.

You shook your head very quickly when you realised he wasn’t just being casual about getting comfortable, but making a silent move to get closer to you. You didn’t speak, not trusting yourself to talk. You’d probably say something really stupid and really loudly. Instead, you forced yourself to relax, shifting around a little to get more comfortable. Bakugou hummed in satisfaction.

You weren’t sure when you were snuggled into Bakugou’s side instead of the arm of the couch, and you weren’t sure when he pulled his arm from behind the couch to be wrapped around you, but you found that you were way too comfortable to care. 

You felt so warm and safe that you didn’t even notice that you were dozing off until you were being gently woken up. The room was dark, the movie very clearly over, and the rest of the squad were long gone. Bakugou gently jostled you awake, a strangely soft expression adorning his features. You’d never seen it before, but you decided then and there, in your sleepy stupor, that you wanted to see it as much as you could.

[inkandpen22]

Young Hearts Divided (3/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader / James Potter x Female!Reader 

Warnings: none 

Word Count: 2.3k 

Part Summary: As James and Sirius continue to act strangely, Y/N struggles to figure out the reason. When James asks her to do something, the pieces start to fall into place, leaving her even more confused than before. 

Masterlist

James and I study for History of Magic all afternoon following copying Lily’s notes. James is lucky I actually understand History, otherwise, we’d both be in trouble. As I go over the chapter with him, he takes notes for the first time on this portion of the book. During class, he’s usually sleeping or doodling. It’s rather distracting being his seat partner, especially when he asks me to play Tic-Tac-Toe with him. One of us has to pay attention because we can depend on Lily to cover us. 

“What led to the Goblin Rebellion of 1612?” I quiz James. 

He taps his chin with a quill, thinking up an answer. After it takes longer than it should, I lean back in my chair with a raised brow. Unable to withhold my amusement, I snicker at my struggling friend. He’s toast, this exam is going to wreck his marks. 

He whines, reaching across the table to gently grab my arm pleadingly. “Help me!” 

I giggle, sliding my book toward him. “Read up. You’re going to need it!” 

He whines some more, childishly pouting. “But I hate reading,” he groans, tossing his head back. As an idea pops into his head, he perks up, “summarize it for me?” 

I open my mouth to protest, unsure if I’ll do it justice, but James cuts me off eagerly. 

“I��ll make it up to you!” He insists. “I’ll… I’ll…” he struggles to think up compensation. Then, he snaps his fingers, pointing at me as another apparently brilliant thought crosses his mind. “I’ll take you to Hogsmeade this weekend!” 

“See! You already got a part of it,” I point out, ignoring his silly offer as I bring my textbook back to me considering he’s clearly not going to use it. “Hogsmeade is where the rebellion occurred! Tell me more.” 

He rolls his eyes at my seriousness, a hint of a smirk on the edge of his lips. Leaning forward, he crosses his arms on the table between us. “I’m serious Y/N,” he whispers so Professor Pince doesn’t shush us. “Let’s go to Hogsmeade this weekend.” 

Our group has never missed a Hogsmeade weekend. Any excuse to mess around drunk off firewhiskey and butterbeer is our preferred free time activity. Except for Lily and Remus, they play the parents. 

“James… everyone is going there this weekend…” I state a matter-of-factly with amusement before turning to write down in my notebook. 

“No, I mean….” he pauses, licking his lips nervously as he avoids my eyes. Evidently, he’s unsure of his words. 

I place my quill down, his hesitation earning my attention. It’s not like James to sound so anxious. What is wrong with everyone today? Did someone pour a spell in their pumpkin juice at breakfast today? It was probably a short term spell from Malfoy or Snape, a payback prank. I guess it’s a good thing I slept in. 

“James,” I place my hand on his comfortingly. His eyes break away from the space between us and meet mine with amazement. “It’s okay,” I laugh softly. “You can say anything to me, safe space here.” I wave my finger in a circle to gesture to our table. 

He laughs, nodding his head in understanding. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right…. I know. You’ve always been really easy to talk to Y/N. Uh, which is somewhat why I wanted to… um… ask you to Hogsmeade… You know, to go to Hogsmeade with me,” he stammers nervously, combing his fingers through his hair with his free hand. 

“Go with you as you go on your date?” I seek to clarify, still kind of lost in translation. 

He narrows his eyes, somewhat confused himself. “Yes…” he answers, making it sound more like a question. 

I nod at a steady pace, processing his words. Okay, well, this day has been anything but average. It’s not even supper time and already two Marauders have suddenly expressed interest in me. One minute, we’re all just friends and the next two of the most infamous playboys at Hogwarts are claiming to have feelings for me. I swear to Godrick Gryffindor if Peter or Remus stop me in the hall to confess their love I’m packing my things and going into hiding. Plus, I could’ve sworn James was head over heels in love with Lily? He told me so multiple times. Whenever he gets drunk we have a heart-to-heart about it. He asks me for advice and I assure him to be himself. Could his feelings have changed without me noticing? It’s hard to believe, but not impossible I suppose. 

Not wanting to hurt him, I accept the offer, “Yeah, yeah sounds good.” 

He smiles brightly, enthused by my answer. “Okay, um yeah, cool!” 

What harm could it do? I’m sure nothing will come from it anyway, James is pretty filthy with his affections. He’s been claiming to be in love with Lily since First Year but has dated girls since them. I’m sure I would even call it dating, they were more like flings here and there. I suspect James might just be confused or annoyed with Lily not reciprocating his affections, so he’s looking to me for some guidance. I don’t mind helping my friend figure out what he wants, as long as he doesn’t act irrationally. 

One problem though, how is Sirius going to react? We aren’t exactly together, but we can’t ignore what occurred at the lake today. He’ll be with us at Hogsmeade, we always go together as a group. I hold the necklace that Sirius gave me between my fingers without James noticing. What a confusing chain of events. I’m not sure what to think. I’m not sure what either of their intentions is. I never thought any of this would ever happen. I wonder if Sirius’s outburst during lunch has something to do with James’s offer? The two seemed rather harsh with each other. James clearly knew that Sirius and I were down at the lake considering he was next to Sirius in Potions and likely read the correspondence as Marlene did. My next thoughts are: how much does he know? Does he know what Sirius said? Does he know what he gave me? If so, does that have anything to do with him asking me to Hogsmeade? Is it all a competition with him? I’m utterly lost and all I can do is see how it pans out. I don’t want to shout accusations and end up hurting someone by accident. It’s odd, I’m both looking forward to this weekend and somewhat dreading it.

James and I decide to skip dinner, staying at the library to cram for History after James gets a sudden urge to study. James finishes telling me a humorous story about his family’s vacation many years ago when we returned to the tower after sundown. 

“My dad was soaked-” He describes with amusement. 

“Password?” The Fat Lady interrupts as we approach. 

“magia enim quisque est,” James answers, not missing a beat. He doesn’t even glance at the portrait. The Fat Lady swings open, revealing the passageway as James continues his story. “I thought my mom was going to topple over, she was laughing so hard!” 

I cover my mouth, laughing at James’s words. I’ve never had the privilege of meeting the Potters like some of the others. They sound like really fun from what I’ve heard from James and Sirius. 

Our friends are gathered in front of the fire. The fire is the main source of light in the room other than some weak candlesticks on the walls. Peter and Remus in opposite armchairs, with Lily sitting on the floor resting against Remus’s seat. Marlene is sitting on the floor directly in front of the fireplace, playing cards with Lily on the coffee table. Sirius sits at the far end of the couch, appearing to be venting to Remus. Everyone’s attention turns us when they hear us appearing in the Common Room. James and I stop, our shared laughter settling down as we peer at our friends. 

“You two were busy,” Marlene remarks with a smirk as she lays down a card on the table. 

“Yeah, you missed dinner,” Peter reminds us, sounding rather distressed by the idea. 

“Eh,” James shrugs, not too fazed by the matter. He presses his hand to my back, guiding me to sit on the couch with him. 

I follow his lead, not physically reacting to the presence of his hand through my mind is racing.

 “We can go grab something from the kitchens later,” he adds with a wink as grabs my waist to cross in front of me and sit in the middle, between me and Sirius. 

I blush, not used to receiving so much attention from James. I mean, I’ve known him since we were eleven so I’ve been the receiver of his relentless flirtatious personality, but now I’m starting to think it’s not unintentional. I ease down on the cushion, crisscrossing my legs comfortably. 

“You’re not allowed to do that,” Remus warns, knowing well enough that James won’t listen. “Unless you want another months’ detention.” 

James casually rests his arm on my leg as if he’s done it a thousand times before. Lily and Marlene silently look up from their cards, taking note of the action. They look between me and James’s arm as his thumb rubs against my knee. I share their looks of astonishment without the boys noticing as they’re too distracted by James and Remus going back and forth. I have no doubt this will be the hot topic when we head to bed. I exhale deeply, subconsciously picking at my nails, a nervous habit. 

“Did you hear what happened to that First Year in Herbology?” Lily is quick to change the subject. “Apparently a Slytherin boy fainted!” 

“Isn’t there a kid who faints every year on Mandrake day?” Marlene laughs, returning to their card game. 

“Not surprised it was a Slytherin,” James remarks mockingly with a chuckle. “They’re such pansies.” 

I frown at James’s words, my eyes focused on my lap. I have friends in Slytherin, they’re decent people. Granted, their house has a bad reputation, but that doesn’t mean they’re all bad. I have family members who were in Slytherin, they’re not evil or anything. Shoot, I could’ve been a Slytherin, the Sorting Hat debated on it. It saw motivation and cunningness in me, in fact, it nearly outweighed my Gryffindor qualities. 

“Forget that!” Peter nearly bursts with excitement in his chair next to me. “Did you hear about Snape?!” 

“Peter!” Lily snaps uncharacteristically at the boy. 

James and I jump slightly at the rudeness of Lily’s outburst, my hand gripping his on my knee instinctively. James glances down at my hand and I swiftly remove it. Peter cowers into his chair as though he was just reprimanded by a parent. My eyes flicker between the two, brows high like everyone else’s, except for James who continues to look at me admiringly. 

“What happened?” Sirius finally speaks, grumbling disinterestedly. Did he just miss Lily snapping? After that, he still has the guts to ask what happened? That’s bold. 

Lily glares at the jet black-haired boy. I lean forward peering in front of James to see Sirius’s reaction. He appears unfazed, slouching into the cushion beside James. His features are sharp, covered with evident frustration and annoyance. 

On that note, I think I’m going to excuse myself before things get too heated. Frankly, I don’t really care what happened with Snape. The boys obsess over picking on him and Lily worries for her childhood friend. Though I don’t condone bullying, I don’t care to get involved. I’m civil with both parties. 

“I’m going to head to bed,” I announce, already moving to stand up. 

Protests erupt amongst the group, each of them talking over each other. The only silent parties are James and Sirius. Sirius hadn’t reacted, starring ahead at the fire with a frown. 

James peers up at me with disappointed eyes, waiting for silence. “But I thought we were going to sneak down to the kitchens?” He pouts, holding my hand loosely. 

“And risk getting a detention?” I chuckle at the boy. 

“That didn’t seem to stop you this afternoon,” Sirius mumbles bitterly under his breath, not having the decency to look at me in the eye as does. 

James looks over his shoulder at his best friend. In unison, our friends begin to talk over each other again, this time exchanging their farewells and excuses for heading to bed. I’ve never seen Lily shove cards into their box so urgently before. I thought Remus was going to trip over himself, he leaped up so quickly from his seat. Now, the three of us are left alone in the Common Room. Sirius hasn’t even flinched once despite the chaos that just occurred around him. His eyes remain in narrow slits as they focus ahead on the burning fire. James burns holes into his friend, waiting for some sort of reaction. His hand continues to hold mine, it’s the only reason I’m still here. I would’ve safely run off with the others given the chance. I sort of feel like I’m rudely watching a private moment between best friends. Do I say something? In my defense, I wanted to leave before everyone else did. 

Building up the courage to break the silence, I slip my hand from James’s and stutter, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna go.” Hopefully, that won’t make either of them burst or something. Urgently, I pick up my books off the side table next to the couch. 

James and Sirius both snap their heads in my direction. Okay, not what I had hoped. I freeze, unsure of what to do or say. I have two pairs of eyes pouring into me. One pair black, the other hazel. I press my books to my chest nervously. 

Suddenly, the sound of the Fat Lady opening interrupts us. Professor McGonagall appears from the dark archway in her robe and cap. Her distraught expression makes my heart sink. James and Sirius both fly up from their seated positions behind me, sharing in my worry. Already predicting what this may be about, I’m too afraid to move.

__________________________________

Tags: @hannah220506​ @devilstradegy

Masterlist

[salmon-sushi]

single parent club | aobajohsai & fem!reader

summary: Oikawa’s gift from his fan club gives you the opportunity you never thought you’d experience.

genre: crack, lots of braincells lost here and platonic relationships!

words: 3.1k

a/n: guess who wrote this instead of listening to her online class? also @akasuns​ thank you for wanting to read more of my works 🥺 i’m really honored!!!

index

The early morning mist begins to clear, the rising sun casts a rosy hue across the morning sky and the birds begin chirping their morning melody to welcome a new day. Kindaichi breathes in the much needed fresh clean air, his eyes blinking blearily in an attempt to stay awake as he walks to the gym at the start of the Golden Week. He pushes the heavy metal doors of the gym using his right leg and sees the sun pouring through the windows of the school’s gym, making the gym glow in soft orange. 

“Morning.” 

Kindaichi yawns his greeting as he stretches his arms and back. Not hearing hollers from his teammates, he looks around the quiet gym, rubbing his arms when the temperature gets a bit chilly before finding the team’s libero and second year setter eating leisurely. He swears that he hears some sniffles from them, “What are you guys eating, Yahaba-san?”

The second year setter turns around and shoves a box of chocolates in Kindaichi’s hands, his voice muffled as he attempts to speak with his cheeks puffing like a hamster, mouth full of sweets. “Oimmffhmfmffh.”

Watari clicks his tongue in distaste as he shakes his head before sighing, “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He raises his hand before slapping Yahaba’s back with a loud smack. Kindaichi pales when he sees Yahaba’s whole body shake, mentally reminding himself to never piss Watari off.

“What he means to say is that Oikawa-san gave us his gifts from his fanclub.” Watari explains while Yahaba wipes his suspiciously teary eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “He said that he couldn’t possibly finish all of the chocolates anyway and that he didn’t want to share with the other senpais for some reason.”

Kindaichi picks up a piece of chocolate and twirls the confection around his fingers before popping it into his mouth. His eyes widen when the chocolate immediately melts in his tongue, the sweet taste, the creamy feel makes him feel like a newborn baby, “Hey, it’s pretty good.”

“Right?” Yahaba sniffs his nose, “Man, I want a cute girlfriend to give me one of these chocolates too. Hey, Watari, how do I get one?”

The libero’s smile becomes tight as his friend begins to nudge his side with his sharp elbow. Watari silently grips Yahaba’s wrist, which made Yahaba yelp in pain, “Not trying too hard would be a good start.”

Kunimi hums in agreement, making Kindaichi jump, “What the hell, when did you get here?” 

“I’ve been standing next to you the whole time.” 

Kindaichi awkwardly nods his head as he averts his gaze from his glaring friend. His hand reaches for more of the milky, buttery chocolate while leisurely talking about their upcoming training regime during the entire Golden Week.

“Aw man, I gotta admit those are the best chocolates I’ve ever eaten.” Yahaba sighs as he pats his stomach in satisfaction.

“Do you reckon Oikawa-san has more of those?” Kunimi asks excitedly. Kindaichi raises an eyebrow at his friend, whose impassive face is in contrast to his elevated voice.

“We can ask him when he gets back–”

POOF!

The gym’s metal doors are slammed open and you enter with a wide step while greeting loudly, a quirk you always did everytime you step inside the gym. You look around the empty space, only finding a cart filled with untouched volleyballs, the net hasn’t been set up yet and an empty box decorated cutely before discovering four babies in your school’s volleyball shirt. 

You suck in a sharp breath, feeling panicked and wondering if the coaches mentioned about bringing their children along to practice, which is impossible because they won’t be arriving until late afternoon. Walking slowly and cautiously towards the group of babies, you finally recognised the hairstyle of each child. You tilt your head in confusion, “Eh?”

“Is this a joke?” You asked yourself.

Just to be sure, you call each of their names loudly, making sure your voice resonates throughout the quiet gym. But only the babies reply in their gibberish language, which only confirmed your far-fetched theory. “They’re babies. I’m sure of it.” 

Looking around and making sure that nobody else is in the gym, you let out an excited squeal, “I’m finally able to realise my trashy novel fantasies!” Wiping a stray tear with a finger, you sniff, “I’m a single mother now!”

Placing a hand on your forehead, you twirl around dramatically before falling down in front of the babies with the grace of a swan on the gym’s floor, earning happy babbles and applause from them. You silently lament about wanting to wear a fluffy long skirt instead of the school’s tracksuit, just so that you could feel like Snow White and the four dwarfs– you mean, babies. You keep a neutral face as you silently creep your hands towards the unsuspecting Yahaba baby while the other three babies are focused on the empty box in front of them. Lifting your hands, you tickle the child as you coo at him, laughter filling the gym’s empty noise as the baby squirms under your mercy.

The remaining third years finally arrive and they greet you casually before stopping in their tracks. “Whose kids are they? The coaches?” Matsukawa asks as he shoves his hands inside his pockets.

Shaking your head, you hand a tired, red faced Yahaba to the middle blocker, who then awkwardly holds the baby in his arms, “Nope. Guess again.”

Hanamaki sends a glare to a scowling baby whose hair is parted in the middle, reminding him of a certain junior who refuses to move during practice, but he decides against it, “Nah, where are our little kouhais though?”

Your body slumps as you groan, rolling your eyes before Oikawa steps in front of you and points at the babies on the floor. “Now, now, [Name]-chan before you create your monstrous sounds–” 

“Hey!”

“–these babies are our kouhais, right?”

His question received no reply, but no objection either. Matsukawa silently settles the baby in his arms on the ground and slings a hand around Hanamaki’s neck before moving towards the exit. Iwaizumi crosses his arms and glares at the two friends, “And where do you think you’re going?”

Hanamaki raises both of his hands in a calming gesture, “We’re off buying food. For the kids.”

Matsukawa waves a hand with a smile on his face, “Want anything from Family Kart?”

The captain hollers that he wants onigiri, along with a few chocolate bars for their precious manager in case she decides to be a monster with all the groans she’s producing. Feeling annoyed, you pinch Oikawa’s side and flash a sweet smile when the captain cries in pain as Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, “Didn’t you just eat breakfast?”

Oikawa smirks as he manages to slap your hand away, placing a hand on his hips as he tilts his head to the side, “This is why we’re different in terms of height, Iwa-chan.”

“Huh?”

Seeing Iwaizumi already raising his fist, you quickly stop both of them before Iwaizumi proceeds to demonstrate violence towards impressionable children. The last thing you need is a baby fight. Silently panicking, you begin to think of possibilities of baby injuries– you know next to nothing when it comes to treating injured babies. Worse, the babies are actually the first and second year regular players of the volleyball team and for them being stuck as babies in the start of Golden Week. “Imagine explaining this to the coaches!” you scream mentally.

Iwaizumi notices you beginning to lose your cool, he pats your back, “We’ll help you take care of them.”

“Only you, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa pipes in.

In your eyes, Iwaizumi is your saviour, while Oikawa is nothing but dust. You stick your tongue at the captain, in which he is happy to reply with his own while pulling his lower eyelid. Iwaizumi grits his teeth, his body tensing before he sucks in a deep breath. His body visibly relaxes and he exhales slowly, the tension in his face begins to fade and he looks calmer than before. “Right, only I will help you, [Name].”

“W-whoa, Iwa-chan,” Feeling demure, the blush on your face sears through your cheeks and for a minute, you think your face is on fire. Suddenly, Iwaizumi becomes dependable, not that he isn’t before but– “That’s so cool! I’m totally living the trashy novel plot!” 

Looking away shyly, you stutter your thanks to the boy. Oikawa huffs when he witnesses the interaction, taking out a ball and proceeds to throw it up in the air as he runs up to deliver a powerful serve.

“Oi, Shittykawa! We’re not practicing near babies.” Iwaizumi warns. The captain bites back his complaints and silently sits himself at the corner of the court, letting the ball drop and roll away freely. Seeing you and Iwaizumi being somewhat parental towards the first and second year babies churned something in his stomach. Watching you meekly hand over a Watari looking baby to Iwaizumi with rosy pink cheeks, Oikawa couldn’t help but groan, “Iwa-chan! Why are you helping [Name]-chan anyway?”

Both you and Iwaizumi turn to face Oikawa with unimpressed expressions. Feeling somewhat pathetic but his heart wouldn’t settle until he says what he has to say, Oikawa gestures his hands at you and the babies, “She’s a girl! Girls can take care of babies alone, right? Let’s practice!”

Iwaizumi widens his eyes in surprise before snickering, “Wow, Shittykawa. You just proved yourself to be a deadbeat dad.”

You’re also quick to rub the salt in the wound, cackling wildly, “Yeah, Oikawa.”

The captain gasps as he stands up, making his way towards Iwaizumi and sweeping babies Yahaba and Watari from his friend’s arms, “Hey! I’ve taken care of my nephew before and I can take care of Yahaba and Watari! Plus, they’re easier to care for~” he sings.

Iwaizumi looks doubtful when he sees Oikawa telling the babies that he wouldn’t be a deadbeat dad. Silently, he goes to Oikawa and helps him out by playing with the two babies with him. 

You gasp sharply in surprise after discovering Oikawa’s real intentions. Standing up, you poke a delicate finger to his chest, “So that’s your plan, Oikawa!”

The captain merely raised an eyebrow while looking at you amusedly. “Oh?”

“You’re planning to take my husband away with your single father act!” Oikawa yelps as your hair smacks his face when you turn around, looking at him over your shoulder before scoffing, “Disgraceful!”

Iwaizumi blushes when he hears you call him your husband, he splutters, “W-what, husband? [Name], I–”

Before the ace could take a look at your growing red face after your bold claim, Oikawa laughs high and mighty with a devious look in his eyes, “It seems that you’re not a slow shrew after all, [Name]-chan.” He runs behind Iwaizumi and grabs his biceps, “But it’s too late for you! Iwa-chan will fall for my single dad charms in no time!”

Iwaizumi glares at his friend as he starts to feel uncomfortable now that he is the center of the attention. “Oi, stop it, both of you.”

However, his words are ignored as you gasp in shock and grab babies Kindaichi and Kunimi, who look very happy to be carried in one arm each. You glare at Iwaizumi with tears in your eyes, making the latter deflate under your stare as you whisper, “How could you do this to me, Iwa-chan?”

You are touched when you feel two pairs of tiny hands pat your face, it's as if Kindaichi and Kunimi could feel your sombre mood, regardless of their age. You make your way to the other side of the court with the babies, making Iwaizumi push Oikawa away from his arm, trying to calm you down as you let out sniffles of your crying.

Oikawa stands still as he watches his friend patting your back awkwardly, that is until he sees a coy smirk gracing your smug face. “Ha, I win this round, Oikawa~” your eyes seem to say.

There is no way Oikawa is losing to you.

He tries to recreate a dramatic spin he saw in the soap opera his mother loves to watch but he fails miserably as he falls down with the elegance of a chicken trying to fly. But Iwaizumi wouldn’t bat an eye. Grumpily, he lifts himself up and smiles when both Yahaba and Watari clap their hands for him. “At least my performance is appreciated,” Oikawa thinks.

“Thanks, Yahaba-chan and Watacchi.”

Meanwhile, Iwaizumi then realises that you’re fake crying because at this point, your cheeks are dry and you’re only blubbering instead. He looks up at the gym’s ceiling and sighs heavily, “Why am I even friends with them?”

A sharp cry pierces the gym and Iwaizumi quickly looks at Oikawa’s corner of the court, finding both Yahaba and Watari crying. Oikawa starts to panic as he pats the babies’ backs but they are unrelenting. He bites his lip, “What’s taking Makki and Mattsun so long? We might need to change their diapers! Pants! Whatever!”

Feeling spiteful, you giggle at Oikawa’s predicament, “Kindaichi and Kunimi are literal angels! They would never cry–”

Tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling from Kindaichi and Kunimi’s faces as they join the crying fest. 

Iwaizumi stares dumbly at the floor while Oikawa laughs as you panic, asking the babies if something’s wrong. He thinks of his position as the team’s vice captain. When he first accepted the position, he didn’t think much of it. In fact, his first impression towards vice captains is that they are usually the ones who did nothing at all. Looking at Oikawa who is all but happy to join the babies in torturing their manager, Iwaizumi thinks, “Shouldn’t the captains be responsible?”

Then, he glances at you whose hands are flailing around as you are near in tears, “Managers too.”

But no, his captain and manager are both general annoyances, however endearingly so. Iwaizumi debates lying down on his back again, to have a silent mental breakdown with the chaos in the gym as a background noise, but he decides against it. Remembering how Matsukawa, Hanamaki and you were crying for him to survive in public, he thinks it would be best if he just went through this now instead of dealing with more of Oikawa and your antics.

“I think they’re hungry.” Iwaizumi helpfully informs the two of you after clearing his throat several times. Blinking twice, both you and Oikawa perk up, running towards your bags. You rummage your bag and find several boxes of Pawcky, “I have some Pawcky with me!” 

“And I have spare milk bread with me!” Oikawa tells you. 

With Oikawa and your combined strengths, the both of you manage to feed the children together without any fusses. With Oikawa tearing the food into smaller pieces for the kids, you quickly fill up the bottles with water in case they become thirsty. Iwaizumi becomes speechless at the perfect teamwork between you and the captain. The babies then soon fall asleep and the both of you slump onto each other. Oikawa grins at you, “Phew, we make a pretty good team, [Name]-chan!”

You beam at him, “For once you’re right, Oikawa!”

The both of you pat each other’s back and sing praises to one another as Iwaizumi sighs tiredly while he rests his heavy body against the gym wall. “Great,” he grumbles. The gym has become considerably warmer, with the bright light pouring from the gym’s windows, making the floating dusts visible to his naked eye. 

POOF!

“Our children!” Both you and Oikawa scream in panic. Iwaizumi quickly stands up in action, coughing when the puff of smokes nearly engulfing the three of you. A familiar voice asks, “What, what happened?”

Watari rubs his eyes with his hands as the other three baby turned normal guys cough their lungs out from the smoke, he is met with the view of their manager and captain clasping their hands together, with tears streaming from their eyes. Oikawa holds your intertwined hands together and brings them near to his face, “Oh, [Name]-chan! They grow so fast!”

The dazed libero looks at the team’s ace questioningly, to which Iwaizumi only replied with a pitying smile, “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

Only then, Matsukawa and Hanamaki return from their hours-long worth of shopping for food. “You guys sure took your sweet time,” Iwaizumi says gruffly. Matsukawa averts his gaze from Iwaizumi’s scowl while whistling a tune as Hanamaki asks amusedly “Eh, they’re back to normal?”

“Normal from what?” Yahaba asks but his question is ignored by his senpais. Poor Yahaba.

As a sign of reconciliation, Hanamaki passes a bottle of banana milk to Iwaizumi, patting his back as Matsukawa passes bento boxes around to the team, “Thanks for the hard work, ace.”

A loud clap interrupts the warm atmosphere and Oikawa stands up with his hands on his hips, “Alright everyone, gather up!”

“We are already gathered, Oikawa.” Hanamaki snickers.

“Hush, you.”

You silently stand behind the captain with a resolute expression in your face as Oikawa begins his speech, “I have realised that [Name]-chan and I are not really responsible, personality-wise.”

The atmosphere turns serious, the faces of the team morph into surprise. 

“So, from this day forward,” you continue, “We’ll get our acts together and form a strong bond in order to guide this team to the nationals!”

“And crush the Ushiwaka bastard!” Oikawa adds.

Iwaizumi’s intuition rings “Dumbass alert! Dumbass alert!” but he shoves the thought away. However, Iwaizumi remembers the sheer chaos created by the two of you just moments ago, so he grabs a ball, just in case.

You nod at Oikawa and the captain holds your hand, raising it as he continues, “We will become co-parents to you guys!”

A fast ball hits Oikawa’s face before knocking off to your forehead. You cry at the burn on your forehead as Oikawa crumples to the floor, clutching his face in agony. 

“Iwa-chan!”

Extra:

You rub the reddening spot on your forehead, pouting at Iwaizumi, “Violence against a helpless woman? I thought you are better than this!”

However, Iwaizumi looks dead inside, his voice low, “At this rate, I don’t see you as a woman, [Name].”

You gasp along with Hanamaki and Matsukawa. Your heart beats faster than ever, “What does Iwa-chan think of me, then?”

“You’re more like a–” he pauses, contemplating his words. He looks at you and your red forehead, you really do look like a sad piece of work. He deflates, “–an annoyance. But not really.”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow as he slaps Iwaizumi’s shoulder, “Huh? You called me a bug once when I really annoyed you, Iwa-chan!” He then nudges Iwaizumi’s side, “You wanted to call her a bug, right? It’s okay. [Name]-chan is a big girl, she can take it–”

“Thanks, Iwa-chan.” you grab a tissue offered by Hanamaki. “Being a bug is cool too.” you cry, blowing your nose as both Hanamaki and Matsukawa gasp at Iwaizumi scandalously.

“Can we get to practice, now?” Iwaizumi asks, red faced.

[soramel]

Chained to you (Part 1)

How far can people go for power? How far can you go for love? kthxreader

drabble: You tried to snuck away from your marriage by making a scandal on your own. Have you photographed with someone outside a bar that will cause enough humiliation for your parents. Not knowing the man you chose for your ploy was your fiancé himself. You thought you’ve seen enough of the real world, but being with Taehyung only unraveled so much more. genre: angst, romance, unconventional love warning: eventual smut

A/N: cross-posted from wattpad; updates are uploaded in wattpad first

Part 1 word count: 6.4k

You were having another dinner night with your parents. Silence reigns on your table and only the occasional clink of silverware against the porcelain can be heard. You were used to it. The rectangular table is too enormous for a family of three, the cold marbled floor, the empty hallways. Sometimes you wished for a smaller house because you find the generous space exhausting to stride from and to, but at suffocating times, it provides room to breathe. Like at times like this.

"Mr. Kim's son will arrive in three days. We'll have brunch with the Kims on Sunday," your father informed nonchalantly. You held in a breath as your grip tightened around your spoon. It has been a month since your parents informed you about the marriage they arranged for you.

As a conglomerate heiress, you thought you'll be exposed to a lot of choices for your partner, but as you grew older, your status only narrowed it down. And now, you're left with no choice at all.

At that, your mom started planning for the occasion while you just went on with your meal.

The idea of them meddling with such personal matters like your relationship does not sit well with you. Not that you've been into anything serious for the past two years, but heck, despite your serious disposition, you did not want to tie down yourself in a loveless marriage.

It worked for your parents, but you're not sure if it could work for you. Besides, you barely know the man. You can't even remember his face.

"Mom, dad, I think it's too early to get married. Don't you think?" you uttered. This is your nth time having your dislike laid on the table. Although compared to your past fierce protests, this one's a tamed one, hoping that they'll reconsider your feelings about it now.

Your mom dramatically said, "22 is not young, darling! I was 18 when I was engaged to your father and 19 when we got married."

Your jaw tensed, "I have a lot of things I want to do. Besides, am I not your daughter? Why do I feel like a collateral security?"

"Y/n!" your mom shouted, offended. It's true. You don't know the whole thing but you're sure there's a business partnership behind this arrangement.

Then your father spoke, "You'll end up married anyway, why not do it now? Why waste your time dating around when there's already a man matched for you?"

You've been in this conversation before and it ended up running in circles. A diplomatic approach looked hopeless.

"Love can be learned. What you need to look for in your partner are the benefits he would bring to you," your father smugly said. Turning to your mom at his statement, your mom just gave you a smile.

"Taehyung is a good man, Y/n. You'll love him," she said. You did not respond. Taehyung was a childhood friend, but now he's a stranger. Your family is close with the Kims but you barely see each other, then when college came, you heard that he went abroad for his studies.

Your mom stood up from her seat to go beside you. Placing her hand on your back, she sweetly said, "And do this for us, okay? We've been working hard for your father's presidential campaign for years. This is your chance to help. We're not asking for you to be with us on campaigns."

You wished it was just that.

#

The news of your engagement soon circulated. No articles were written about it yet, maybe it was your mom's doing. She has a strong connection with the press given that she's a famous socialite.

Regardless, the buzzing news was enough for you to receive more stares than usual in your building. You also noticed some paparazzis lingering around when you dine out or shop in your favorite designer store. The increasing attention you've gathered was enough to send you over the edge for the whole week.

To make things worse, tomorrow's the dreaded day. You'll get to meet your fiancé. An estranged childhood friend.

One shot,

then another,

and another.

"Yeah!" your friend, Sunmi, cheered. You got to escape for the night. Your parents thought you'll be sleeping over at your friend, but little did they know, you'll have your share of fun for the longest time you've jailed yourself within the four corners of your office.

"Cheers!" you smirked at Sunmi who's smiling from ear to ear as she bottomed out her shot glass. Then she hugged you, "I missed you! The last time we hung out like this was in college!" she shouted over the loud music. You're in a booth good for ten people. You were hesitant at first to join her and her friends on a night out, but you need to get out of your head for now.

"What's up with you these days?!" she asked.

You took another shot and leaned to her, realizing that she hadn't caught the news yet. "I'm getting married," you said, but it was drowned out by the new music that started to play, making the crowd in the club cheer.

"What?!" she asked, leaning to you.

"I'm getting married!"

"What the fuck?!" her eyes were wide like a bunny caught in a red light. You laughed at her reaction. Then she squealed, making you lean away from her and cover your ears. Her friends didn't mind though and went on with their own thing. "To who?! Oh my god?! Why? How?! You don't have a boyfriend!" she spluttered.

It was actually your first time to find the situation funny. All the time when you think about it, it only stresses you out, but now the whole thing sounded so silly. "I don't know! All I know is that he does not look that good," you complained, making a silly face. You're not sure about his looks but whatever. Your distaste grew towards him the moment your father forced you to marry him.

Sunmi laughed, "An arranged marriage?! Oh god. That's still a thing?!"

You let out a disappointed expression as you held in your smile.

She downed another shot and shook her head, "I won't get rich people like you. So old school."

With a deep frown, you drank another glass that she filled. Sunmi's parents work in one of your mom's companies, you met her in the university as you were in the same classes during your freshman year. Months into your friendship, that's when she knew about your family.

"I really don't like to get married yet but my parents... you know them." you complained, loud enough for her to hear. You did not notice that the two of you already created a world of your own, shutting other people out who are in the same table. They were already playing drinking games, others were dancing, but you two just went on with your conversation.

Sunmi smiled naughtily and poured you another drink, you accepted it, laughing.

"If there's a will, there's a way!"

Raising a brow at her, you crossed your leg over the other and looked up. Feeling the alcohol seep into your system. The buzzing feeling felt good.

Flailing your hand dramatically, you asked, "Great Sunmi, let's hear your advice. Help thy stupid friend."

The cheshire smile that creeped on her lips sent you giggling. "You're not drunk enough. I'll tell you later."

After accepting another shot from her, she took your hand and led you to the dance floor. You were both laughing over nothing while you just swayed your hips to the music.

"Eyyy!!!" you howled at the drop of the familiar song playing. Not minding the bodies brushing against you, you enjoyed your time with your friend. At the end of the song, she dragged you back to the booth and grabbed a tequila bottle from one of her friends. They all cheered when she hoisted it up to you.

"Open your mouth!" she commanded.

You don't drink well straight from the bottle, so you shook your head no. But they egged on. Sunmi laughed, "Come on," then she pushed your shoulder down, "Kneel, bitch!"

The lot roared. You hated it but since your group is starting to get attention, you followed Sunmi to get it over with. With knees on the dirty floor, you opened your mouth as she poured the tequila down your throat.

"One!" they started counting.

"Two!"

"Three!'' That's when you tapped out. Closing your eyes, you gulped it down. You know you're out of it because the alcohol tastes good without the chaser.

This is going to be a good night, you thought.

You're now dancing with Sunmi and her friends. They all said their names as they made small talks, but you were too high to remember them. You twirled as you danced with the music, then at the corner of your eyes, you saw a familiar man. One of the paparazzis who's been following you nonstop. You recognized him because he's not one of those who hides behind the bush. He would casually be in the place where you're in and take pictures.

You felt disgusted. Your whole mood dampened. Your mom can do something about it if ever articles would be released, but you did not want to be scolded over simple stuff like this.

Sunmi noticed the shift in your mood, so she asked, "Hey! What's wrong?"

You stood up straight, getting ready to leave when she stopped you. "Y/n! What's up?"

You sighed, then with a frown, you said, "Saw a paparazzi, he's watching me. I gotta go."

Her mouth formed an "o" before a bright stupid idea popped in her mind. She dragged you back to your booth, urging you to sit down.

"I'm not in the mood anymore, Sunmi!" you whined, you became a bit emotional as you felt tears springing up in your eyes.

"Hey, hey, don't be upset. This is a good thing," she cooed.

"How is that a good thing?! Do you know how the news of my engagement has been buzzing around for days now? People are following me, watching my every move as if... the point is, I didn't sign up for this! I didn't ask for this!"

She patted your back as you rant, then she said, "You can break up your engagement, you know?"

You glared at her for making it sound so simple, "It's not that easy, Sunmi!" you felt hurt. Didn't she realize how pliant you are to your parents' command when they started insisting things on you? Especially when they're mad?

"It is! You're an adult now, you're a lady boss! You can do anything you want."

You huffed. This is going nowhere, your thoughts are fuzzy, the glaring lights and the loud music are not helping.

She tsk-ed when you lied down the couch. You're truly wasted. "I know a way to stop everything. And your chance is that paparazzi," she said as she pulled you up. Scrunching your eyebrows, you asked, "What do you mean?"

She smiled, a naughty one, before letting you in on her plan.

You both surveyed the bar and the dancefloor from where you're sitting at, but no one seems to be the right man for your ploy. In your sober state, you wouldn't agree with your devil of a friend, but you're lost as fuck and besides you like the idea.

"There." Sunmi pointed out a guy who's drinking alone at the bar. You took a swig of a drink you didn't know before strutting heads on to the man she pointed out. He does not look so bad.

Halfway through your stride, you ran your fingers through your hair. You smirked when you realized that you're really doing this.

His doe eyes are adorable, he has a small face and he's tall. He looks serious as he stares at his drink. Then as if he saw you on the corner of his eyes, he looked up and met your gaze.

You look sultry at that moment. You did not let go of his gaze as you approached him. However, the admiration that flashed in his eyes almost sent you back. You averted your gaze, he saw you coming. So instead of going with your initial plan, you just sat two seats away from him and ordered a drink as an excuse.

That flicker of emotion was familiar to you. You see it in parties you rarely attend with your parents. Men who knew who you are and their intention of having a too personal business relationship with you.

Wrong man. You send Sunmi a look as you wait for your drink. She just rolled her eyes back at you.

It's not the time to be picky, but you want to be safe. You're looking for someone who you can invite to take you out then drop them once a picture of you were taken. This one looks difficult to brush off. Scanning the crowd, you eye for your next target. You looked up at the second floor but it's too dark to see faces.

"Hey," the man you were eyeing earlier moved to the seat beside yours. You sent him a disinterested smile, not uttering a reply. You sigh in your thoughts as you find no one good enough for your ploy.

Trying one more time, he licked his lips before saying, "Not having fun here?"

The bartender slid you your drink, you took a sip while thinking whether you should reply or not. Then your attention caught a man who emerged from a staircase. His hair was covering his eyes, but you could tell that he's hot. His aura is something. You watched him intently as he headed towards the bar. To you. You smiled at the coincidence.

Thoughts fogged with your friend, the flowing booze, the music, the blaring lights, different scents of sin, the hazy atmosphere that made you high, your stress, the fucking paparazzi, your traditional parents...

Fuck it.

His stance screams dominance.

He stopped for no one until he reached you. No words were spoken as he claimed your waist, pulling your body against him. You saw him smirk and with dazed eyes you glanced up at him.

Finally, a fuccboi who won't bat an eyelash as you asked him out. A perfect pawn for your plan but everything took a different turn when his lips met yours. "Sure, I'm yours for the night," he answered, his voice deep, before diving in for another kiss. His hands gripping your ass.

He held you tight by his side as you walked out of that damned place. He rained kisses on your collarbone and shoulder while you wait for his car, not giving a damn to those who were staring. You were in just for a picture but his touch and kisses sparks fire that you never felt before.

#

Throat-parched, you woke up in tangled sheets. Your head is pounding and your body's sore. Realizing that you're naked under the sheets, you jolted awake, making you clutch your head as you suffer from a hangover.

Well, fuck. What happened last night? you asked yourself. Crumpling the sheets to your naked chest while you lean on the headboard.

The man beside you stirred at the sudden movement. He's laying on his stomach as he turned his head to face you. Your eyes widened when his eyes met yours. He's beautiful, alright. Blush crept up your cheeks at his wicked smile and he did this weird thing moving his jaw as if chewing something before brushing up his tongue on his upper lip, taking in your presence. He let out a low chuckle at your expression while you're busy putting a name on the man's face. But fuck, you can't remember.

He dragged you down by your waist and nuzzled on your neck, watching his muscles flex in the process. "Thought you'll be gone by the morning," he muttered with his bedroom voice. Is that his way of asking you to leave? You wondered, irritated by his remark.

You were thinking of a smart comeback when your phone rang inside your purse. It was placed on the bedside table together with your last night's dress which was neatly folded along with your lace undies. Much to your surprise.

Dad calling...

Your breathing hitched as you glanced at the time. It says 8 am. You sent a knowing glance to the man beside you, but he just reciprocated your telepathy with a chuckle. You answered the call nonetheless.

"Dad," you started, your voice calculating as you steady your breathing.

"Are you on your way back? The Kims will be here at ten," he said straightforwardly. Your eyes widened in shock. You cleared your throat before replying in a rush, "Yes, yes. I'm on my way from Sunmi. Will be there in time."

You dropped the call right away, not waiting for your father to respond. Wincing, you swung your legs out of the bed and gathered your clothing and slipped in your underwear.

"Now, you're leaving?" the man asked as you clasp your bra back. His tone teasing. You looked back and saw him enjoying your frantic escape. Your forehead scrunched in annoyance before raising a brow at him, "I didn't know if I had fun last night. But regardless, this won't happen again," you retaliated.

His face turned sour at your statement. You hurriedly slipped in your dress and gathered your purse, not minding where the heck your jewelry was. Leaving his apartment in a haste, you failed to see his knowing smile.

#

Memories of last night started flooding back. It was just bit and pieces, but those memories made it clear that you had sex with him. You just wished your memories weren't trustworthy enough but the pain between your legs only confirmed it.

You feel hot all over. You bit your lip at the images that spilled in your mind.

The way he pinned you on the wall right after he opened his door. The way he nipped on your neck, your chest, stomach, and even the inside of your thighs. His feverish touch. Everything felt so sensual.

Your heart beat rapidly as the memories became more vivid. The way he looked at you, his eyes darkened with desire. His low moans and grunts. His silence as he rammed into you, intently watching the little changes in your expression as he thrust deeper.

Time flew fast that now you realized you're in front of the mirror, all dressed and freshened up for the first meeting with your in-laws and fiancé. You still feel like floating due to your hangover and your head aches like hell but that was not enough to bar you from feeling all these emotions. Of helplessness, loneliness, hatred. You browsed your phone to see any news from last night, but you found nothing.

Sunmi told you that she'll make sure you'll get photographed by the paparazzi. Maybe you were too drunk to follow through and were deeply engaged with your last night's companion. You sent a text to your friend,

Was I caught last night?

"Honey, are you ready?" your mom asked from the other side of the door. You didn't notice her knocking.

You sighed as you placed your phone on the charging pad. "Yeah, I'll be out in a bit," you said loud enough for her to hear.

"We'll be at the patio. Don't take too long, okay?"

Should I tell them I have a boyfriend? As you walk downstairs with heavy steps, you were formulating your escape plans but all of them required courage to put shame on your parents in front of the Kims. You're too much of a darling to do that in your sober state.

The least thing you could do is bail your time. However, you doubt if that will work.

The weather outside is nice. It's sunny but not too hot. You saw three house staffs lined outside as they served the elders of their brunch. There was another man sitting on the round table, his back facing yours, you assumed that's Taehyung, your fiancé. A cantilever umbrella was placed against the sun. You encountered some staff walking to and from your kitchen to bring more dishes outside.

When you approached the table, only one seat was left vacant, which was beside your fiancé, his back facing yours. You bowed and greeted everyone good morning, followed by an apology for being late. Mrs. Kim brushed it off, smiling at you, "We just arrived, Y/n. Don't fret."

You reciprocated her warm greeting with a smile. Your father cleared his throat as he told you to take your seat. You did not even bother to look at the man beside you as you felt your hate grow.

The awkward silence was broken when Mr. Kim's son spoke, "How are you feeling, Y/n?" The familiarity of his voice made you snap your gaze at him.

Shock is an understatement. If your eyes could bulge out of its sockets, it already did. The man that you had a one-night stand with is now sitting at an arm's length away from you with a smug smile on his face. You blinked twice. Thrice.

"F-fine. I'm fine. Thanks for asking," you stuttered. Taking a deep breath to regain your composure. You didn't know Taehyung looks this good. You barely remember him from your childhood. You didn't meet him during your teenage years since you weren't really fond of the parties that your parents attend. The time you went with them was only a handful and every time you'll go, Taehyung wasn't there, only his parents. Until you heard of the news that he moved overseas for his studies. You can only care less for you were never interested in him. Until now.

You wonder if you should pretend that you don't know him. Well you really don't. You know him by his name, yes. You weren't even able to recognize him last night. Were you that drunk to fail in putting two and two together? Did he even say his name?

Mr. Kim then said, "I see you haven't forgotten each other. That's a relief."

Your gaze turned to the old man, giving him an awkward smile, while your mother eyes you suspiciously.

The brunch started with a casual talk. Most of the time, it was your parents asking Taehyung about the time he spent abroad. It has been seven years. He would go back here for short vacations but most of his free time was spent for internships. You learned that he's a very career-oriented man. Or that's the picture he's painting. You'll never know.

You were just silent for the whole thing, barely touching your food because you don't have the appetite. You enjoyed the coffee though, as strange as it is. When the fruits arrived, that was the only time you were able to eat properly. The sweetness of the honeydew was refreshing to your system.

Unbeknownst to you, Taehyung smiled at your actions. You were indeed wasted last night, he realized.

"Y/n, I heard you started working for your airline company. How is it?" Mr. Kim asked, pulling you out of your headspace.

They looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer, including Taehyung. "I'm having fun so far. It's only been six months, but I feel like I've learned a lot," you replied, "Yet, not quite everything," your tone even and casual.

"I actually worked with Y/n before when she was still in Waldorf. We handled their security systems," Mrs. Kim recalled fondly before adding, "Which one do you like more, Y/n?" she asked, making you choose between the airline company and the hotel line you've handled so far.

With a tight-lipped smile, you said, "I grew to be fond of both, Mrs. Kim."

She nodded knowingly, satisfied at your answer. Your hotels are situated near airports all over the world, it's not one of those who caters for tourists in the middle of the city. Though independent from the airline, the two businesses work together symbiotically. Then Mr. Kim asked, "Have you thought of studying abroad, Y/n? It might help with your work. You and Taehyung could have studied in the same university together."

"I had my MBA degree here, Mr. Kim. The curriculum is at par with others, so it was alright. I preferred to study here so I could also come to work."

Your mom then interjected, chuckling softly, "You know how workaholic she is. I'm thankful she's more interested in the corporate world than life in politics."

Her remark sent your dad laughing, "She'd be a darling to my constituents for sure. But I doubt she'll fit right in. You know how my world is." His statement earned a chuckle from the Kims except for Taehyung who just smiled.

Aside from the occasional charity work that you do with your mom for your dad's sake, he never actively made you involved with his activities. He was a city mayor during your childhood years then moved to the national assembly. You were more popular in his world as a cute girl who's tagging along and now, you're well known for being a socialite after your mother, given your family's status.

The chatter died down when phones buzzed. You left yours in your room so you couldn't check for yourself what's happening. The elders took their phones out and seemed to be browsing their phone down.

You and Taehyung just looked at each other out of curiosity.

"Y/n,"

"Son,"

Your fathers uttered at the same time. A stern look was plastered on your dad's face but he's not angry. However, that expression is familiar to you. That's when he tries to see what's beyond the person he's talking to.

Contrary to the reaction of your parents and Mr. Kim, Mrs. Kim gushed at the two of you. "You brats! You're seeing each other behind our back?" she squealed.

Your mom let out an uncomfortable laugh, "I'm sorry, I haven't seen this one coming. Should I have the article pulled out?" she said, turning to your father, her face etched with worry.

Taehyung's face is blank. You figured he also had no idea, but you caught on. Maybe it's your picture last night. Your hands gripped tightly onto your seat.

What have you gotten yourself into, Y/n? you scolded yourself. If you only knew who he was. Wait, does he know who you are when he approached you last night?

You sent him a glare at your realization. This jerk.

Your father turned to your mother and said, "It's alright, have their engagement announced as early as possible," then he turned to the Kims, "I hope that's alright with you."

The move infuriated you. The fact that your father did not even ask if it's alright with you, you were the one who's getting married, not them!

Finally, Taehyung spoke, "May I ask what this is all about, sir?" he asked. His tone is careful.

Your father sighed then answered, "It's a picture of the two of you last night, outside a club. Not a good publicity but the article was decent enough to declare that you're dating. Which reminds me..." he then turned to you and asked, "I thought you were at your friend's last night?"

Shit.

"Ah," Taehyung muttered. He looked at you as he answered for your sake and his, but the playful smile on his lips should have told you he meant nothing good. "I met Y/n the day I arrived in the country. I'm sorry if we hid it from you, we wanted to get to know each other on our own before the engagement. I fetched her last night from her friend's party. That's all."

Great. Almost good Taehyung. Fuck, you should've kept your mouth shut. You were murdering him with your glare when your father's eyebrows furrowed further that you couldn't count the wrinkles on his forehead.

The situation didn't help you from escaping your doomed marriage, if only, it tied you down more. Unfortunately, your father was too smart to not take advantage of the situation, uncaring what it might look like to the people on the table. With a raised brow, he declared, "Y/n just got home this morning, so you were with her the whole time?"

Your mother and Mrs. Kim's shocked faces made your face blush, while Mr. Kim just cleared his throat as he glanced at his son. You couldn't read his expression. So, before Taehyung denies it and turn the situation against you, you answered, "Yes, I was with him."

Days ago, you couldn't even imagine that you will be driving the nail deeper on the veil. Now, you totally screwed yourself over.

Taehyung didn't protest. Instead, he held your hand in his. A satisfied smirk plastered on his face as you force your hand out of his grip, "We can announce the engagement as soon as possible. That, I agree with, sir."

#

Articles were soon released about your rumored engagement. It was your mom's doing, she was the one who's been holding the news off for the week and she just had it released right after your dating scandal that she failed to monitor. Interestingly, people bought it.

"So, when are we having the wedding?" Mrs. Kim enthusiastically asked that day after everyone calmed down. She was looking at you expectantly, but you just returned her look not really knowing what to say. It's not that you have agreed to the arrangement.

Your mom answered for you, "With the situation at hand, I advise it's better if we skip the engagement party. Have their wedding by the end of the month."

"Mom," you called out, protest is evident in your voice at the sudden speed of things. Your heart's beating fast. You don't want this.

In all honesty, you have an idea that this is all for business purposes, but it also looks like a publicity stunt and show of power of your father given that he'll be running for presidency. Your father is famous alright, but the limited campaign period before elections is short that publicizing your wedding months before would help boost your father's image without it counting as a "campaign". Basically, your marriage would hit two stones for him, power and popularity.

You cried that night. Being married off to a man you barely spent time with, horrible images flashed in your head, picturing how miserable your life would be. You missed a lot of calls from Sunmi, but you were nursing your own pain that you didn't want to talk to anyone.

After sending her a text saying that you're fine, you turned your phone off. You've been receiving calls and messages the whole afternoon. Some were asking about the truth behind the scandal while some are sending their congratulations.

You woke up the next morning hearing that Taehyung is in your father's study. Angered at how you're being cornered and not even giving you time to think over it, you hated them for treating you like a thing. You stormed into your father's office downstairs, still in your silk pajamas.

They seemed to be in a deep conversation at that moment. Both heads turned towards your sudden arrival.

"I'm not getting married," you declared without further ado.

Taehyung witnessed your banter with your father so early in the morning. You tried so hard not to shed a single tear, but the gravity of the situation stressed you out more than anything. All the while he just looked out the window and averted his gaze when your emotions started getting the better of you.

"Stop controlling my life for once! I did everything you asked and expected me to do! I can handle your empire without a man!" you argued after a heated exchange with your father.

But that just went through his ears. Then he ended up saying things he didn't truly mean. Hurting you.

"You can't secure your power alone, Y/n. Still, you're a woman."

Your mouth fell agape. You never heard of that word before as an insult but the way your father said it started a wildfire within you.

"Your excuses are bullshit. You need me, a woman, to secure your own power. You know that," you spat. Heaving with rage, you drew your last straw as you said with fire in your eyes, "You're not using this woman. She's leaving."

"Y/n!" your father's voice boomed 'til the empty hallways, startling everyone except you.

You walked back to your room and quickly got dressed. You gathered some clothes and some important things, stuffing everything in your leather duffle bag. This was your last resort, but you have no choice but to drive down this path.

Slamming your bedroom door open to get out of your own hell, your brows furrowed at the sight of three bodyguards blocking your way. They didn't utter a single word.

When you ignored them and tried to push your way out, they stood like steel, holding out their arms to stop you from leaving.

"Get your hands off me!" you shouted.

But they didn't listen.

"Hands off," Taehyung ordered.

The men backed down then you went on your way only for Taehyung to block you.

"Don't touch me," you spat under your breath. Taehyung sighed, "Your father won't allow you to leave."

Snapping, you told him, "I can leave anytime I want."

He wet his lips before looking at you sincerely, "I'll help you."

You didn't believe him. For all you know, he's into this thing witnessing how he just stayed silent while you were arguing your way out earlier.

However, four more men filed in your hallway.

"Y/n's leaving with me, there's no need to stop her." Taehyung said out loud, still holding your gaze.

They obediently cleared a path for you. Taehyung walked off first with you and your leather duffle bag in tow.

He did not throw you a glance to see whether you are complying or not. He walked straight out of the mansion then you saw a Benz parked right in the driveway. He opened the door for you to get in.

You watched him walk to the driver side, still contemplating whether you should go with him. Not that you have much of a choice as the guards were watching your every move. They're all held by the main door. You couldn't remember the last time when you saw this much of security. It's a sudden change in the mansion. It's affirmative they're from the Kims.

After both of you were settled in, Taehyung silently drove off, smoothly passing through the gate.

Down the winding hill, he asked, "Where do you want to go?"

"You can drop me off anywhere. I can handle myself," you coldly said, eyes planted on the road ahead. Taehyung didn't respond and continued to drive.

Several minutes after, you saw a bus stop. "That bus stop will do," you told him.

There's a good chance that he won't truly be of help to your escape. You know that, but still you tried.

And you were right. He drove past the stop you pointed and sped up the highway.

You turned to him, scowling, your faint hope was put in vain though you did not expect any better from him.

"There's a cabin out of the city. You can stay there," he muttered, not minding the dislike shown on your face.

He made some calls after a while. Something about getting a place ready for use. From the conversation, you made out that the place he offered belongs to his family.

A lot of things were running in your mind but then you realized that there's no use to be torn between wanting to compromise with your parents versus running away from it all. You turned to Taehyung when he pulled off. He set the car into a park by the side of the road with fields after your sight. You failed to realize that you were out of the city or maybe he's just a fast driver.

"Y/n," Taehyung started.

"We can have divorce after your father's term," he said.

You let out a bitter chuckle, "Five years is a long time, Taehyung. Forgive me but I'm really curious as to what you will get out of this. What did he promise you?"

"Merger of few companies, an exclusive contract in my tech company, your hand," he told you with full honesty. It's flattering that you are part of a negotiation which involves millions of dollars and maybe displacement of hundreds if not thousands of employees. Not.

"Five years is not a long time, Y/n. Think of it as getting another degree in college," he followed through.

"I accomplished three degrees in five years. Another degree won't take that long," you retorted.

Then you asked, out of curiosity, "And what will happen to the merger after we divorce?"

"I'll give you your shares, enough to have controlling interest. If you want more, we can negotiate that."

You laughed at the insanity, "You think that's easy? You believe our parents will allow that? And having a divorce is a disgrace, Taehyung. Once we get into this, there's no turning back. You know that." Because that's how it works in your world. And you hated it.

He smirked at you, then smugly said, "You underestimate me too much, Y/n. I'm not pliant to my parents' commands."

Good for him.

God, his arrogance is starting to get into my nerves, you thought.

"And if you want, let's not get divorced at all. I'll be that generous to allow you to keep your honor."

"Hah!" you let out in disbelief. Is the air different in the States for it to send his head in such disarray? Your jaw twitched in irritation.

"You see, Taehyung-" your speech was cut off when he started driving back to the road. "Hey!" you shouted, offended at his rudeness. He glanced at you and said, "It's not safe. I just had to talk down your wild thoughts a bit before you jump off the car out of desperation. You may continue. As you were saying?"

If looks could kill, this car already spun off the road.

"Go on," he egged on. You rolled your eyes at him even though he couldn't see.

"I'm not getting anything out of this. Do you think I care about the money?" you calmly said, getting into your corporate demeanor as you see that this is more of a professional relationship for him.

"Aren't you a businesswoman, Y/n?" he retaliated.

With your head held high, you replied smugly, "I don't chase money, Taehyung. I make money chase me."

"And I don't give a damn about power. I highly value respect," you added.

Your head snapped at him when you heard him scoff. He was shaking his head in amusement, but you took it as a sign of ridicule.

"I understand, but being with me will not only solidify your power, Y/n. You can have everything you want. Money will chase you and respect will be given accordingly if we do this right," he simply said.

[vanillann]

the 1994 battle of the performers (luke patterson x f.reader)

word count: 2.0k

the 1994 battle of the performers masterlist

Chapter 3: The Cool Kids Table

“Look who it is!”

I jumped when I realized how close the voice was, looking over my shoulder at a smiling Alex and Luke. I tried to see if I saw Reggie or Bobby but Alex caught on to my weird glares.

“They had to stay after class a few extra minutes, got in trouble for distraction yesterday,” Alex shrugged, speaking as if it was a casual thing but really thinking about it, it was very possible.

“Oh?” I was still slightly confused why they were at my locker, we weren’t really friends I suppose. Just five teen’s who had dreams and were doing the other a favor.

“Oh? Where is your excitement?” Luke bounced on his heel, the wild smile never left his lips as he looked at me. I said nothing, reaching for the books in my locker for the next period.

“Who has excitement during school?”

“Who wouldn’t when it’s time for lunch,” I rolled my eyes with a smile sneaking its way on my lips at the excitement that followed the group.

They truly did try to make the best out of everything.

“Nothing ever happens at lunch,” I shut my locker, turning around and letting my backrest on the cool metal that sent a shiver through me.

“Cause you’re sitting at the wrong table,” Alex smiling was changeling Luke’s, which felt like a greater competition than the Battle of the Performers.

“I sit with some old dancers, they don’t talk much.”

The dancer team was nice enough to still speak to me after the spilt, but that didn’t make it easier to watch the people I considered my friends talk about the thing you loved most without you. It wasn’t going to get easier but I couldn’t let myself dig too deep in my own head.

“Not anymore,” Luke skipped backward, letting his back hit the handle of the cafeteria door and holding his hand out for Alex and me to follow me.

“Did they say something to you?”

Easy breathing, you didn’t do anything wrong. They kicked you off the team so you found otherways to dance with.

“No, we just thought you should sit with us,” Alex wrapped a light arm around my shoulder and guided me around the different table until we spotted the one in the very corner. It was one of the smaller tables within the room, definitely pushed to the corner on accident but nobody cared enough to move it.

“Sit with you?”

“Say it nicer why don’t you,” Alex glared at me, a hit of a joke behind his eyes as I looked between him and the table.

Milo’s and dinner was one thing, but this felt like a friendship level up. The school was a harsh place where you were grouped together with the people you hung out with, not that Sunset Curve was the worst people to be grouped with. It was just a lot, my last two years in this place I would be seen as one of them or seen as the girl who was kicked from the dance team than Sunset Curve because after this battle I would be a faint history to them.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep,” Luke popped the “p”, already sitting at the table with his leg bouncing from either nerves or excitement, the two things Luke Patterson ran off of.

I didn’t even get to place my books down before he was standing up and taking them from my hand, placing them out of reach on the bench with a little smirk.

“I need to start on the Economics homework,” I tried to reach over the table but his hand rested on the top of my books, pushing them farther from my grasp.

“Lunch isn’t for homework,” his smirk was almost enchanted to watch, but my homework under his rough finger was way more important at the moment.

“You aren’t going to get those books back, I would know,” Alex spoke up from behind me, leaving a seat beside him open for me with his feet swing back and front under the table. I said nothing, giving up and taking a seat, resting my chin in my palm while looking at both boys.

“Do you not bring food to lunch?” I reached into the tote bag on my shoulder, letting the cool bottle of water freeze my warm hands.

“We got through the line but Bobby would kill us if we went without him,” Luke watched me, waiting for me to say something interested as the other two members of the band were still not here.

“What?”

“You didn’t scream last night,” Luke spoke, his eyes glaring under the harsh light of the cafeteria as if he was out of an old movie.

“Cause I didn’t fall?”

He didn’t think I would actually fall, did he? I had been walking fine for a month or so now, it was the most active work like dancing and running that still gave me scares.

“(Y/N)’s sitting with us?”

I looked over my shoulder, both Reggie and Bobby stood behind me with smiles as they took their regular seats, or what I assumed, around the table. Once Reggie sat down, he held his hand out for a high five. I smiled and returned it, turning to Bobby when he sat beside me while clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“Yep, they dragged me here,” my chin pointed to Luke then Alex, earning a pout from Luke and Alex bumping his shoulder with my own.

“They aren’t house trained, sorry,” Bobby joked, earning a few stray napkins to be thrown at him from Luke.

“I am house trained, thank you very much,” he pronounced every word with sass, his pout still painted on his lips as he looked to Alex who was laughing at him.

“Let’s get in line,” Alex started to hand, pushing off the table and turning once he stood all the way. Everyone but Luke stood up, him holding his finger in the air while looking at the other members.

“I’ll sit with (Y/N) so people don’t think she’s lame with no friends,” I felt my jaw go slack, my hand feeling around for one of the napkins he had thrown at Bobby. Once I felt my finger brush one, I picked it up and threw it in his face, it going directly in his open mouth.

I covered my mouth, in shock at how perfectly it had made it in. Luke looked about as shocked as I felt, looking at me with wide eyes while removing the napkin from his mouth.

“You-” his smile was slowly forming as he held his finger out at me, pocking my hands that still covered my mouth.

“I didn’t mean to,” my words barely made it from his lips as I tried to hold my giggles back. I probably looked crazy to an outsider, watching him with a shocked smile and he scolded me.

“I thought we were friends,” he crossed his arms on the table, letting his chin rest on top of them as he looked up at through his eyelashes.

“I don’t remember signing a contract for that,” I tapped my chin, raising one eyebrow and I jokily thought over the process.

“My printer broke, I’ll get it to you next Monday.”

I rolled my eyes, resting my chin back in the palm of my hand as I watched him stare at me.

“Why did you invite me to sit here?”

I definitely was the best at ruining moments, I should do it as a career at this point.

“Cause?”

He shook his head as if the answer was obvious, but that was the exact problem. It was apparently noticeable to everyone but me where I stood with the group but myself. As far as I knew we would be friends until the competition and then I’d be back to the few girls at the lunch table and they wouldn’t have to worry about my knee anymore.

“Look at this piece of chicken,” Reggie’s voice tore me from my thought, looking up at the almost black chicken tender Reggie held in-between his finger with a broken frown.

“That has to be against guidelines,” I reached out, taking the tender to look at for myself.

“Don’t say that too loud, Bobby said something similar and was threatened with detention,” Alex spoke up from beside me. His chicken was definitely in better shape but still incredibly over-cooked. I simply took the chicken and wrapped it in one of the napkins from the little argument earlier.

Reggie held out his hand, taking the trash and reaching over to make it in the trash can. He made the shot, his hands above his head and he looked back to the table with a proud smile.

“He’d made up for hitting Henderson with a paper ball yesterday,” I smile, remembering the encounter from the last period of the day, the only period I shared with any of the members of Sunset Curve besides lunch and study hall with Alex and Bobby.

“You what?”

Alex dropped his fork back on his cheap plate, looking up at Reggie with a slacked jaw.

“I didn’t mean to!”

I laughed, leaning back on the bench slightly was I wasn’t sitting so proper, something I still didn’t use to. WIth dancer become a secondary part of my life I was losing the posture I once had, cause some small back pain but nothing serious.

“How do you even do that?” Luke reached over and took an apple slice off Bobby’s plate, that’s when I noticed each boy had each of the options for the school menu. The thought alone that they formed their own little sharing system was adorable to me, my eyes jumping to each plate.

“What one?”

I looked up, Alex holding up a grape in-between his finger as he watched Luke and Reggie’s conversation unfold. I said nothing, picking the grape from in-between his finger and popping it in the air, leaning my head back and catching it with my mouth.

“Whoa!”

Bobby hit my shoulder when he saw the trick, smiling as he pointed to me with a giant smile on his face.

“Wait I missed it,” Luke leaned on his arms again, watching me closely with his bright green eyes. I said nothing, asking Alex for another grape but he was already holding one out for me. I did the same trick, moving slightly into Bobby’s side as the grape moved but still caught it easily.

“Wait I wanna try,” both Reggie and Luke reached for the grape at the same thing, silently fighting over the fruit.

“This will keep you entertained,” Alex whispered in my ear, pointing his chin at the two and they disused who got the grape, Alex hiding the bag with the rest under the table with a little smirk. I reached over, taking one for myself and slipping it in my mouth without the two notices.

“Is it like this all the time?” I asked both Alex and Bobby, laughing when Luke said he should get it causes he’s the lead singer.

“You’ll see,” Bobby spoke, laughing when Reggie flicked Luke in the forehead and snatched the grape from his fingers. He didn’t waste time, trying to flick it but instead started to fall on the other side of the table. I stood up slightly, moving over Alex slightly with my mouth open, once I felt the fruit hit my tongue I showed the fruit in my mouth to the table.

“How did you do that?” Reggie and Luke both sat up straighter, waiting for me to explain the trick.

“A magician never shared his tricks,” I smirked, taking a bite of the grape with a smile.

“I thought you were a dancer, oh-” Reggie stopped halfway through, pointing at me with a little smile.

“You can’t be cooler than me sorry,” Luke tilted his head at me, us all standing up with her heard the school bell ring throughout the walls.

“But I am, sorry.”

the 1994 battle of the performers taglist

@gia-kerks @notwonder-woman @poisoned-girl @phantompogues @dovesgrangers

[emiefaunwrites]

Since Taka being in Les Misrables as Javert has been briefly mentioned, my brain went back into musical theater mode haha! I have been thinking, what if Taka had helped one of the stage hands into being comfortable and confident enough to perform on stage in one of their upcoming plays? Perhaps either Peko or Kirumi would be the stage hand that he helps (I kinda hc them both as Taka’s best friends other than Mondo, Chi, Hiro, Hina, and Sakura, but if you don’t want to use Peko or Kirumi, that’s okay)! They could be like a closeted theater nerd that’s always wanted to perform on stage but felt like they weren’t good enough, until they see Taka perform on stage and decide to ask him for advice and practice an audition with him. They could even impress their crush with this. Like I said, you can use whatever character you want as the person Taka helps, Peko and Kirumi just happened to pop into my head lol! If you don’t like that idea, there’s also this;

Leon and Kaede performing together

Heyyyy!

Ooooh I like it! And I've comtemplating who to use for this. I thought it would have been perfect to find some for Mondo (I JUST CAN'T FIND ANYONE I LIKE FOR HIM WAHHHH) but that failed haha.

So I went back to your original two and was like...who can I pair them up with. Normally I associate Peko with Fuyuhiko but in my AU he's with Kazuichi. Then I thought maybe Kaede for Kirumi but I like Rantaro with Kaede.

And then I found. A ship I quite like. So yes, I'll be using Kirumi. But she will be the crushee, if you will.

Phew. That was a ramble! Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy!!

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

• Death Note - The Musical is not the only show that Taka performs in.

• Since he joined up at the beginning of his second year, and the group perform a show every term, he gets to be in a few more.

• Somehow he always lands with a major role, even when he insists someone else should take the male lead.

• And he's gathered quite a following (much to Leon's conflicting delight and jealousy).

• But there's one person in particular that stands out for Taka.

• Maki Harukawa.

• Since being forced by her friends (Kaito mostly) to join a club, she decided it would be easy work being a stagehand.

• She doesn't have to speak to anyone really - just make sure things are where they're meant to be at the right time.

• She can definitely do that.

• She too started the same time that Taka did and was looking around backstage with a club member during auditions.

• And there was something about his performance that had her dazed.

• He isn't the greatest singer in the world - there's plenty of Ultimates out there with that title.

• But his conviction and his passion stirred something in her that made her want to hear him again.

• So even though a cruddy role backstage was all she had, she was allowed to sit and watch him perform every night and see him transform from the awkward, uptight boy everyone knows him as into something beautiful.

• And she can see, out in the audience, all the girls (and guys) out there swooning over him, hearts in their eyes every time he opens his mouth.

• Of course, Maki doesn't want EVERYONE's eyes on her. That'd be too tiring.

• But she does want someone's eyes.

• Kirumi Tojo - the only other girl in her class that seems to be on her wavelength.

• They interact in class, but outside of that they spend no time together.

• Maki is always dragged by Kaito and Kokichi (with Shuichi being dragged along too) and Kirumi is always at committee meetings.

• But Maki thinks she's amazing - so mature and so beautiful...

• And for a moment, she imagines being on that stage alongside Taka, performing her heart out and seeing the hearts in Kirumi's eyes...

• No. Ridiculous. HER? On STAGE? No. No no no.

• Taka forgets something backstage one afternoon and has to head back in.

• But as he gets to the door, he can hear someone singing. A voice he's not heard before.

• And peeking in, he can see Maki on stage.

• Wow, she has a lovely voice!

• Barging in (and terrifying the girl) he tells her how amazing she is and that she should consider a role in the next performance.

• He's met with coldness and a glare that most people are afraid of - but he carries on anyway.

• 'I'd love to sing alongside you!'

• Ah. Just for a second that image flashes in Maki's mind - and Taka's better at reading expressions now so picks up on it.

• Not that she's going to admit it! No! No way...

• The auditorium door opens and Taka sees a gooey look on Maki's face for a second before she composes herself and turns away.

• Looking behind him, he sees Kirumi there in the doorway, obviously waiting for him so they can go to their committee together.

• Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

• An idea pops into Taka's head and with a big grin, he calls back to Kirumi.

• 'Ah, Miss Tojo! You know Miss Harukawa, don't you?'

• WHAT IS HE DOING?!?! Maki stops dead, absolutely mortified.

• 'Of course. She and I are classmates.'

• 'Wonderful! Did you know that she will be performing with me in our next show?'

• WHAAAAAAT?!?!??!?!!

• 'Oh! No, I didn't realise she had an interest in theatre.'

• 'She called me here to help her for the upcoming auditions. I'm sure she'll get the part! It would be wonderful if you could come support her.'

• Maki finds her body turning slowly to face the both of them, seeing that Kirumi has come further inside to stand by the stage.

• And she's got a smile on her face and a fond expression.

• 'It would be my pleasure.'

• Well. She can't back out now. And Taka's grin says just as much.

• He insists that to the club that she have a role opposite him and personally helps her rehearse.

• And as the time goes on, she starts to relax - until the moments before the show.

• She's FREAKING OUT and no one can help...

• Until Taka rests his hands on her shoulders and says:

• 'Focus on me. No one else. Just focus on me.'

• So she does and the performance is yet another hit.

• And as they're taking a bow and Maki searches the audience (casually ignoring her idiot friends whooping) and finds exactly who she's looking for.

• And she finally sees the hearts in her eyes. Just for Maki.

[tenderlyrenjun]

[4:05 P.M.]

“Na Jaemin!” you exclaim, running into your friend’s arms. 

Renjun follows slowly, walking behind you like an escort, even though he made sure to hire a few. They all assume positions around the estate - your guest bedroom, the kitchens, a few entrances, the gardens. ‘A few’ to him includes an elite, small group of trained warriors whose sense of duty got enhanced after bitten; to you, ‘a few’ should have meant taking Mark and his trusted favorites, but Renjun convinced you to let them safe guard your own manor.

You hug Jaemin over his shoulder, letting him melt into your neck. His guards take microscopic steps that your ears became accustomed to before they were even born. “Tell your newborns to back off,” you hiss in his ear, “or I’ll do it myself.” You pull away, smiling sweetly.” And you know I don’t play nicely.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “They’re all at least 200 years old.”

You give him a serious look, red flashing across your irises. “Still.” You do not ... react very favorably with guards standing at attention so closely to your every move, especially with Renjun in the room. “I’ve had whiskey older than them.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes again, a pacifist’s smile on his face, but complies with your request nonetheless - probably something to do with Renjun’s presence. He silently brushes his nose, telling the guards to stand down. Jaemin embraces Renjun in the same manner, hugging him tightly. “Tell your mate to quit threatening my guards every time you two stay here.”

“Can’t,” Renjun mutters in his ear. They pull away then grasp each other’s forearms, sharing a look: can’t, or won’t? Renjun breaks the silent conversation first, shaking Jaemin to break the spell. “Separate minds and all.”

“Yet in all 700 years I’ve known you two, never have I seen you separated.”

You slide into Renjun’s side, kissing his cheek as an annoying public display of affection that does not bother Jaemin in the way it would your partner had his mate been present. Even so, Renjun accepts you, draping his arm possessively over your shoulders. “And we have no intention, moving forward.”

“The infamous ‘we’ couple of the Huang Coven,” Jeno announces loudly, bouncing down the stairs, into the throne hall, dramatically. Renjun rolls his eyes; he hates that moniker. Maybe while the two of you visit the Na, he can convince Jaemin to change the title. Jeno, his antithesis, oppositely more traditional, tightens the watch under his suit. And you just know Renjun wants to poke fun at you. Wearing business casual, over streetwear, was a smart choice. Although, Jaemin’s guards wear sunglasses and leather jackets, indoors.

You speed over to Jeno faster than the others, embracing him in the same fashion as you did Jaemin. And he accepts it, all his friend congregating closely by the exit. “It’s been too long, old friend.”

“What are you doing here?” Renjun asks half-jokingly. “Doyoung actually let you outside?” The Kim Family patriarch is rather ,, protective of his members, and has been for the last millennia, even more so actually since officially turning Jeno sometime during the Second Dark Age.

Jeno hugs you in return, his friendship grip crossing diagonally over your back, unlike Jaemin’s around the neck position or Renjun’s more romantic hold. He pulls away seconds after to extend handshakes with the other two. “Doyoung is actually more relaxed than you think,” he admits, hoping that enemy ears are far (one cannot be too careful, especially as other covens accumulate members, like grains of rice - for power, he assumes). “And you would know that,” Jeno redirects to Renjun, “if you got to know him.”

“Hmm,” Renjun hums, not really considering it. You return into his arms, hugging his waist like a newlywed incapable of separating. “The air between us is always so ... tense.”

“Awkward,” you correct. Renjun glances down at you, pinching your side as you continue, “He means awkward. Speaking of -” You smack Renjun’s hand away and spin to Jaemin. “- how is Jaehyun? Ever since breaking off his -” Renjun clears his throat, asking you not to say the word coven, and you nod your head, easily persuaded. “- family, things have been tense between you two, no?”

“No,” Jaemin denies. He refuses to admit that he is awkward with anyone, although his introvert tendencies appear when in large groups, especially if he does not see those people daily. “Jaehyun just added two new members - Jungwoo and Sungchan.”

“Oh, cool,” Jeno interrupts. “That’s why I’m here too.” He passes off a calligraphed note to Jaemin, whose shoulder you nosily look over until Renjun tugs your back into his chest. “His name is Donghyuck, or Haechan when uses his special ability - luring blood with his voice.”

“He and Renjun should get along well,” you comment. “Their powers are compatible.”

“Not as much as yours and mine, love.” Renjun kisses the crown of your head, hanging his arms around your shoulders, to which Jaemin rolls his eyes. You are starting to think Renjun is just making Jaemin jealous, on purpose. Psychologists say that people start complaining about being single while near couples, and since Renjun hates all the formal meetings, getting Jaemin a long-term mate might back him off.

“You don’t have a special ability though,” Jeno points out.

“No,” Renjun disagrees, shaking his head. “Beauty.” You take your turn, for the Huang Clan, to roll your eyes. He always says that your natural looks became enhanced after you turned (however, he usually keeps the flirting private), and although you disagree, you cannot stop him from saying so. His own natural ability becomes stronger when he is happy, which is anytime around you.

As the sun settles into the sky’s middle, everyone sits around a short, long table. Renjun assumes the head across Jaemin, you at his right hand and Jeno at Jaemin’s. Your mate was granted hosting duties, despite being a nomad to this estate. Probably because he is the best at straining tea. And to begin the ceremony, he asks the first question:

“So, Jaemin, how is Jisung fairing? Adjusted to vampire yet?”

“No,” Jaemin shakes his head. He accepts a glazed cup though, with both hands, from Renjun, who hands out empty earthenware as a way to keep track of who is drinking. Jaemin has an extra servant at beck and call in case anyone wants something more or he wants coffee. This set is meant to remain empty until he starts pouring the first round (into new glasses). “I think he’ll get over it once we turn him in a few years.”

“Aish,” Jeno mutters, waving his hand across the table. “Recruitment is starting younger and younger these days.”

“Yet none of us look a day over 23,” Renjun comments. He starts a fire under the second teapot, an empty one that he will fill with blood in a few minutes. “Did you get water from the spring outside, or did you have a servant retrieve a bottle from Nunobiki again?”

“The latter,” Jaemin nods, popping a white sugar cube in his mouth. He relaxes more on the pillow cushion, stretching a legs underneath the table. “It is a special occasion after all. I haven’t seen you three in the same room in what? 80 years?”

You push his shoulder, throwing him off balance. “We’re not divorced. You can visit us any time.”

“I haven’t left the compound in -” Jaemin looks at his watch. “- God, ninety years.”

“All the more reason to. Plus you’ll never guess what Renjun got us into!”

Speaking of the devil, Renjun clears his throat, asking for attention as he places a strainer over a teapot, pouring cold blood into the wide opening. He takes the now hot water and drizzles it in as well while the conversation comes to a stop, the ceremony’s second phase. Everyone watches closely, your eyes more permanently sparkling red, almost like having being starved for weeks. Renjun pours the now warm mixture on some leaves, then removes it just as quickly, repeating the process twice more, to fully rinse the leaves. When he takes the pot of boiled blood, spilling into the decanting bowl, you hear a guzheng in the steam, transporting you to the park in 1500 where Renjun would escort you to feed the ducks. No wonder Jaemin relinquishes hosting duties to Renjun; he always emits a beautiful memory. Renjun starts an hour glass, timing five minutes for the water to cool while everyone resumes conversation.

Jeno bites into an hojicha brownie, chewing the hazelnuts extra thoroughly (it takes like bits of flesh, which make it all the more delicious. “You were saying? What did Renjun rope you into this time?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, already groaning, and you smirk, knowing that your friends will take your side.

“College,” you seethe.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds!” 

“It is,” you point at Renjun, though he knows you are at least half-joking. You look at Jaemin, who sports an amused look; he, nor Jeno, has never seriously entertained college, preferring their current roles. “We’re registered for a full year of classes. I want to come visit three weeks ago, but midterms and projects take up extra hours of our time.”

“We don’t sleep though,” Jeno points out, siding with Renjun. “It can’t be as hard as it is for mortals who need 8 hours a night.” He taps Renjun’s shoulder. “Ha, remember being 20?”

“Heavens,” Renjun sighs nostalgically, reclining on his pillows in thought, staring at the ceiling like it can show a movie of his first lifetime. “Learning how to write from pictures? Carving lines into bronze with literal ancient tools? Computers are so much better.” He gently kicks your foot. “It’s why I signed you up for that Microsoft class.”

“Microsoft?” Jaemin scoffs. “Does your school not provide Apple courses?”

“No.” You roll your eyes. “Not that it matters anyways. I have to perform calculus by hand. I didn’t even do that during the Han dynasty! I still have the original suanpan in my study.”

“Yes, but,” Renjun drawls, “you have to admit how much easier it is to type integrals into that new graphing calculator I bought you.”

You turn to Jeno, deadpanned. “Everyday, I have to do homework, but yeah, no, you two should totally try it.”

The last grain of coarse sand falling onto the pile echoes loudly for your vampiric ears, so all of you stare at it, suddenly dehydrated again. And ever so slowly, almost theatrically (ever the moongwa), Renjun takes the original pot, adding some extra warm water until the blood’s color becomes translucent enough to see the pretty leaves. He pours everything into the decanting bowl, disrupting the ration between blood and water. The ceremony’s final phase comes to an end as he serves the drinks, handing one to Jaemin first as a sign of respect. You are next, his co-leader, then Jeno, the only member without a title (ironic, considering that he was a prince in his first lifetime, higher than any of you), and himself in closing. Everyone waits for Jaemin to take the first sip, ignoring the fact that Renjun assumed a host’s role. When his reaction is satisfactory, you take the second sip. It is very sweet, the floral aroma lingering the longer you keep the small cup near your nose. Renjun’s stoic demeanor does not give away anything you recognize, possibly because he is too humble or because he additionally drinks in all the praise. When Jeno takes the last first sip, reciprocating the tastefulness, you all resume conversation and the ceremony, more laxed.

Jaemin gestures for a guard to let one of the servants enter and asks for an iced americano, ending his tea drinking.

Renjun waits for you to also ask for coffee before also ordering it, and Jeno follows suit when the last pot empties.

“It is our cycle to sleep,” Renjun announces, cleaning his hands with a wet wipe. A servant comes in to clear the table, and all of you wait for the table to be emptied before retiring to your individual rooms.

Renjun starts tossing the extraneous throw pillows on the bed foot bench, already dressed in a comfortable matching pyjama set while you still have yet to change. He runs around the bed, after he finishes preparing it, nestling his chin into the crook of your neck.

“Come to bed.”

You hear him whine, interlocking his fingers above your liver, one of his most favorite places to drink your blood, once he punctures the right spot. His fangs start growing, gently knocking your skin for an invitation. You give it to him freely, extending your head left - better access, wordlessly.

“These meetings are infinitely more tolerable with you here,” he whispers, already reliving the ambrosial tea that seems to just be steaming through your tiny pores. He takes one lick, preparing you for the deep puncture. “You should come to them more often.”

You anticipate his bite but he only nibbles your jugular, grazing his teeth ever so lightly when his lips part too wide. “If I went with you, then I wouldn’t miss you.” You spin around, still enveloped by his arms. Renjun pushes you into the wardrobe, and your hands brace his shoulders, like a prey trying to escape, except your fingers dig into his shirt, attempting to pull him impossibly close. “We wouldn’t have these moments if I always went with you.”

“But we’re having this moment now, while you’re with me.”

“You’re so clingy,” you whisper as he tugs your hair by the base of your scalp. You sigh, knees faltering. 

Renjun places a singular kiss on your neck, displaying immense restraint against drinking you dry. You feel his fangs reach maximum length despite not sinking into your skin yet, so you draw him in by his throat. And he smirks. “Who’s the clingy one now?”

“Bite me.”

“Well, if you insist.”

[the-dream-team]

What I Would Do 

Read it on AO3

“And if you come anywhere within spitting distance of my friends again, you’ll lose a lot more than your voice, Mulciber .”

Lily Evans stared down the Slytherin whose ability to speak she’d stolen with a well-practiced Silencing Charm. Unable to spit out anymore foul language, Mulciber narrowed his eyes and stormed off towards the dungeons, accepting defeat. She turned to Mary and gave her a small smile. That problem was taken care of. For now, at least.

“Oh, that was marvelous!” came a clear, familiar voice from across the corridor. “Evans, you’re one helluva witch, have I told you that yet today?” Jamie Potter grinned at Lily, one hand clutching her stupid stolen snitch and another combing through her tangle of wild curls. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew followed close behind her, as they always did. She playfully swatted Sirius’ shoulder and tugged at her shirt collar. “Padfoot, you know I can’t resist a girl who stands up against those bastard Death Eaters-in-training.” Sirius barked out a laugh.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Knock it off, Potter, or you’ll be next on my hit-list.”

Jamie’s grin only broadened. “Evans, you drive me crazy, you know that? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, what I would do if you started flying for the other team…”

As Jamie and her posse sauntered off down the hall, Mary sighed.

“It must be hard for her,” she said softly.

“Hard for who, Potter?” asked Lily in disbelief.

“Yes, Jamie, ” said Mary. “Having those kinds of unrequited feelings seeing as she’s the only girl here who… y’know.”

Lily’s mouth gaped open. “Mary! There are no feelings involved. Potter just can’t let go of an old joke.”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “If you say so.”

Unbelievable. Lily crossed her arms and furrowed her brow the rest of the way to the Library. Unrequited feelings my arse, she thought with a huff. Potter had been acting out the same schtick for years. She loved boasting about her deep, dramatic attraction towards Lily (most often in public places) and calling Lily’s preferences into question. It made her uneasy, and Potter knew it. Jamie liked rileing her up.

Of course, she had to admit it hadn’t started as a joke. Their third year, during a particularly rowdy Herbology lesson, Lily and Jamie got into a row over the Leaping Toadstools they were meant to be picking in the forest. After some bickering over who would be in charge of catching the mushrooms and a bit of shoving back and forth, Lily eventually threatened Jamie with a Bat-Bogey hex if she kept getting in her way.

Before she could stop herself, in front of the entire class, Jamie practically shouted, “Bloody hell, Evans, what I would do if only you were into girls.”

The heat burned so deeply on Lily’s cheeks that day, sometimes she still felt the licks of fire teasing her skin nearly four years later. The panic. The embarrassment. The fear. It all boiled up from her knotted stomach and racing heart, presenting as a disgusted expression that could only be painful for the receiving end.

Jamie’s usually confident smirk had been replaced with a gaping mouth and... were those tears welling in her eyes?

After the initial shock, Lily tried softening her expression, but the damage was done. In an instant, Jamie swiped a hand under her glasses, ran another through her fringe, and put on a forced lopsided grin. “So, er, you’ll keep me updated if anything changes, yeah?”

She let out a laugh, looking for the boys to back her up. They chuckled along with her the best they could while Jamie shrugged to the class and went back to their Toadstools, avoiding Lily’s eye for the rest of the lesson.

A stormcloud of guilt brewed in Lily’s chest the following weeks. Jamie had taken to staying in the boy’s dorm to avoid any kind of contact with her and the other girls. Sirius had stepped up, becoming extra protective of her and sending daggers at anyone who dared to even glance in Jamie’s direction. Lily tried getting her alone to apologize for weeks before eventually cornering her and Remus one day after Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Potter,” said Lily, breathless as she chased her down the hallway, “please, I wanted to talk to you.”

Jamie spun around with a dazzling smile. “Evans! Coming to tell me you’ve finally changed your mind?”

The flirtatious wink sent Lily over the edge, her planned speech quickly abandoned. “Oh, you’re impossible!”

“Don’t worry, love,” Jamie casually laughed, “take your time, I can wait.”

Completely speechless and beyond flustered, Lily had no choice but to storm away. She was thirteen and emotional, and years away from controlling the way her feelings manifested themselves. So for the following weeks (and then years) as Jamie kept up the teasing, Lily responded emphatically with thunderous huffs and exaggerated scoffs.

By seventh year, their routine became so practiced, Lily barely noticed her heart skip anymore when Jamie shot off her endless string of compliments. Barely flinched when Potter suggested there could be a question of Lily’s tastes.

There weren’t any questions.

She didn’t fancy girls.

Had there been close calls through the years? Sure.

On a warm spring day down by the lake, when Dorcas placed an innocent hand on Lily’s thigh while laughing at a dumb joke, had Lily’s stomach somersaulted in a not-totally-unpleasant way? Yes. Had she spent the next few months secretly hoping it would happen again? Possibly.

Had there been times where Lily caught her eyes wandering to the hems of skirts or lingering on Jamie’s impossibly long eyelashes, only magnified by those stupid, round wire-rimmed lenses? It didn’t matter.

Those moments weren’t real. They never formed as full sentences in her head, mentally blocked before they took shape. The heat on her leg left behind from Dorcas’s touch didn’t mean anything if she didn’t give it a name. Ideas could float untethered around her mind as long as they never met the ground.

The thoughts she had about boys were real. Shared giggles with Mary about Sirius Black’s sharp jawline or Amos Diggory’s playful charm flowed with ease. Her crush on Remus Lupin during their fourth year terrified her to admit out loud, but there had never been a question about whether she was allowed to let her imagination run wild over his floppy sandy hair and pleasant quiet smile. Boys were easy.

The thought of liking girls never would have crossed her mind if Jamie hadn’t said those words to her in Herbology all those years ago. Lily hadn’t even known that was an option before. Perhaps if Jamie had kept her mouth shut, if she hadn’t spent the next four years poking and prodding at Lily’s very secure sexuality, then Lily would never have found herself repeating the whispered phrase in her mind,

Please don’t let me fancy girls. Please, please don’t let me fancy girls.

***

On one unusually warm and breezy day in March, Professor Slughorn called for Lily to stay behind for a moment after Potions. She waved on her friends, promising to meet them at the Great Hall later for lunch, and happily made her way to the front of the classroom.

“Miss Evans!” boomed Slughorn. “I had a favor to ask of you if you’d be up to it.”

“Of course,” she said. The Potions Professor had always been one of her biggest supporters at Hogwarts and she rarely passed up an opportunity to lend a hand.

“You see, I’ve completely run out of Flobberworm Mucus and I’ve got a lesson on Sleeping Draughts for my first years this afternoon.” He checked his watch and shook his head as a group of fourth years started parading into the dungeons. “And as you can see, I’ve got classes back to back until then! My dear, would you mind running down to Pippen’s Apothecary during your lunch break? I can write you a note and let Minerva know you’ll be popping down to Hogsmead for just a moment…”

“I’d be more than happy to,” said Lily, eager to get outside and stretch her legs. The prospect of getting to see the little village outside of the usually scheduled trips thrilled her.  

“Wonderful!” said Slughorn, summoning a piece of parchment and adding his signature in a swooping, elegant script. “A tankard of mucus should do, and of course they know where to bill it to.”

Lily grabbed the note with a grin and spun on her heel to head out the door, practically skipping on her way out.

The moment she stepped outside the castle, her lungs filled with a humid air, fresh from the previous night’s rain. Puddles littered the pathways, serving as an extra reminder to enjoy the sunny weather when it managed to crash through the otherwise constant cover of clouds. With a squeal of excitement, Lily shrugged off her robes and rolled up her sleeves, letting the warm breeze wash over her skin and whip through her hair.

A rare taste of independence played on Lily’s lips, curling up the corners into a wide smile. She held onto the precious moment alone, briskly walking towards the village as she imagined what life outside of Hogwarts had in store for her. Adulthood approached as quickly as the little shops and bustling pathways of Hogsmeade Village, and soon she reached her destination.

Faint, tinkling bells announced Lily’s arrival as she stepped through the front door of Pippen’s Apothecary. Sunlight poured through the large front windows, soaking the rows of shelves with a golden glow. Bundles of herbs, jars of multi-colored liquids, and barrels of crystals lined the shop’s walls and overflowed into its hallways. And towards the front of the store, a knobly old man in a well-worn cloak stroked a mewing black cat with round, yellow eyes.

“Welcome to Pippens,” he smiled. “It’s not a Hogwarts weekend, is it?”

Lily ignored the disappointed pang of being recognized as a student and approached the front counter. “No, sir, it’s a tuesday,” she said. “I’ve just been sent by Professor Slughorn to pick up a tankard of Flobberworm Mucus.”

“Ah, of course,” said the man, squinting down at Lily’s note. “Old Horace runs through that mucus faster than a unicorn during a solar eclipse.”

She let the unfamiliar metaphor fall to the side with a chuckle and watched the shopkeeper shuffle back into his storage closet. The cat nudged Lily’s arm with a soft meow, unflinching towards the clanking and bumping sounds of the man pouring a thick liquid into a pint-sized container.

“I’ve put Horace’s invoice in the bag here,” said the man, handing over a canvas tote with the mucus lovingly wrapped up inside. “He knows where to find me!”

Lily thanked him with and grin and gave the cat another scratch behind the ears before turning to leave.

“Now you didn’t hear this from me,” called the man as Lily was halfway out the door, “but Fortescue’s brought his ice cream cart out for the first warm day of the year, and I hear he’s handing out free samples.” He sent a cheery wink in her direction.

“Oh, thank you, sir!” Lily beamed and she waved goodbye.

Ice cream sounded lovely.

The cart wasn’t hard to find, as a small crowd of villagers had lined up to take advantage of Fortescue’s deal. The giddiness of being surrounded by adults in the real world fluttered back as Lily queued with other shopkeeps on their lunch breaks and locals enjoying an afternoon on the streets. When it came her turn to order, she received a generous sample of the mint chocolate chip and a sweet smile from Florean Fortescue himself.

She couldn’t dream up a more perfect afternoon. Lily walked slowly through the streets of Hogsmead, determined to drink in as much of the gorgeous day as possible. The trees, just starting to bud, swayed back and forth rhythmically, and the grass, freshly watered, still smelled like a new morning’s dew. She watched the witches and wizards stroll down the pathways. A short man with a top hat chased after a yappy dog while a large wizard peered down at his comically small pocket watch, and on a bench across the street from where she stood, two witches took turns sharing an ice cream cone.

Lily’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes locked onto the women sitting together on the bench. They looked to be in their late twenties or possibly early thirties. Both wore fashionable cloaks with trendy hairstyles and one of the women was reading a well-loved book in between licks of chocolate ice cream, her feet propped up on the bench, and her shoulder leaning against the other woman. A warmth flooded Lily’s chest as her heartrate quickened watching the pair, shocked by how lovely she found the simple scene.

Lily watched as the reading witch, not taking her eyes from her book, angled her head to ask for another bite of ice cream, but instead of bringing the cone to her lips as she had done before, the other woman surprised her with a quick kiss. The overwhelming flood of emotions burst from Lily’s chest in a gasp.

She wanted what she saw before her. She wanted the lazy afternoon sitting on a bench, curled up with a book and an ice cream cone and a girl to lean against.  

Her mind raced with thoughts crashing to the ground with such force that their echos reverberated through her entire body, making her knees week and hands tremble. Every blurry idea in her head racked into focus, each half formulated sentence allowed itself to be completed with an exclamation point. Lily stared ahead at the bench where the possibilities of her future blew open like a firework spreading across the night sky.

After what felt like ages of watching the two witches, Lily finally peeled her gaze away and forced herself to make her way back to Hogwarts. Every step felt like walking on clouds as she practically floated up the road towards the castle. That is until she came face to face with another girl wearing a school uniform and a stupidly happy grin on her face.

“Potter?”

“Evans?”

Jamie had appeared in front of her out of thin air.

“What are you doing at Hogsmeade?” asked Lily, praying her shaking voice wasn’t too obvious. She hadn’t been prepared to see Jamie while her emotions were this heightened. The pounding of her heart beat into her eardrums and threatened to leap out her throat. Jamie wore her usual crooked smile, so effortless on her soft features, mirrored perfectly in those mischievous hazel eyes.

“I could ask you the same question,” said Jamie, cocking an eyebrow. That feeling of anger Lily associated with Potter and her teasing bubbled up to the surface. But it wasn’t anger she felt. It was fear. A deep fear of how Jamie’s playful jokes made her stomach flutter and her cheeks blush. And now that Lily’s image of herself grew clearer in her mind’s eye with every passing moment, she no longer had the capacity to bottle up and explain away the fear she felt when looking at Jamie Potter, who had always made her feel this way.

Feeling so desperately alive, she had to do something.

“I’m running an errand for Professor Slughorn,” she said calmly, “but I can assume you don’t have an excuse to be outside the castle.”

“Ah, you caught me, Evans,” said Jamie with a chuckle. “Look, I was just popping down to Honeydukes to pick Remus up his favorite chocolate bars. I could’ve taken the tunnel- and I probably should’ve considering our little run-in here- but it’s such a lovely day that I said screw it and walked the path instead.” She shrugged her shoulders, not looking too disappointed about being discovered.

Lily narrowed her eyes and put all of her efforts into provoking Jamie. “Well, maybe I should just say screw it and give you a month's worth of detentions, Potter.”

It worked. Jamie’s eyes widened like saucers and her smirk grew into a proper grin. “Oh, Evans, stop that, you’re making me blush! Merlin, what I would do if you ever switched your fancies.”

Jamie had walked right into her trap. With a deep breath and a pointed stare, trying to convey every feeling exploding through her body, Lily responded, “What would you do?”

Jamie froze, clearly never expecting a reply to the scenario she so often suggested.

Lily ignored the flush spreading across her face and continued. “What would you do if I told you I fancied girls. If I fancied you. ” Her heart thudded so painfully against her chest, she thought she might be sick.

Jamie stood slackjawed, not breaking eye contact, like a deer in headlights. The girl who always had a quick comeback or a smart retort for every situation had been rendered speechless. The painful reality that Jamie’s previous words had no intent of action behind them crashed over Lily like a wave breaking in the middle of an ocean storm. And now the drops of saltwater spilled over, stinging the corners of her eyes.

“Enjoy your time in the village, Potter,” she said softly as she turned away from Jaimie, escaping the nightmare as quickly as possible.

The ground, which had felt weightless only a moment ago, became hard and cruel under her feet as she trudged back up the path to the castle. How could she be so stupid? Why did she allow her bursting adrenalin to make her do something so reckless?

“Evans!” Jamie shouted from behind, but Lily wouldn’t turn around, couldn’t let Potter see the tears welling in her eyes. “Lily, wait!”

A hand clutched Lily’s wrist and tugged back hard, spinning her whole body around in a flash. Two gentle palms grasped the side of her head and cupped her cheek while hazel eyes bore into her own. Jamie Potter’s face was inches from her own, dazed and flustered and looking for a clue.

Lily responded instinctually with the only clue Jamie needed. A laughing smile of uncontainable joy.

Jamie crashed forward, meeting Lily’s lips in an exhilarating kiss that set her nerve endings on fire. Soft and firm, the years of pent up emotion spilled between their mouths and hands and bodies as they drew closer to one another. Lily ran her fingers through Jamie’s wonderful hair and bumped her adorable wire-rimmed glasses with her nose. She never could have known how good this would feel.

When they finally came up for air, Jamie’s face glowed with shock and happiness under the sunlight, her cheeks flushed and eyes unbelieving. Lily couldn’t help but pull her into a tight embrace and commit the feeling of her to memory, never wanting to live in the dark ever again.

“Hey, Jamie?” Lily asked into the girl’s shoulder. “Do you want to go get ice cream with me?”

Jamie tightened the hug, nearly suffocating Lily in the best possible way. “Oh, Evans, what I would do to get ice cream with you.”

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun / Taemin; bridging parallels ; nc17

jonghyun and taemin live in the apartments across from each other and jonghyun has been watching taemin climb out of his window and sneak out of the house several times a week for years ever since they were both in high school

for summer of shinee 2021 : )

Him and Taemin text still. Not often, and when they do, it's never really a full conversation. Mostly just memes shared at 2 in the morning, small talk, happy birthdays. Look at that dog texted fervently at 7 p.m. On a Thursday dragging one of them at light speed to their window to obey. Taemin makes his way into one of Jonghyun's articles again, this time a little spotlight of his work as a choreographer for an entire show.

Jonghyun has known Taemin since they were kids. Apartment neighbors, kind of. Jonghyun is 408, Taemin is 718. The way the apartments are set up, Jonghyun can sit at his bedroom window, look outside, and see Taemin's bedroom window across the way and one floor down. They go to elementary school together, then middle school, and then high school. They have one or two classes together over the years. None of that really matters because they never really talk.

What was the homework texted here, our mutual friend both invited us to the same party there, look at that dog shouted into the space between their windows at 7 p.m. On a Thursday one time in 8th grade. Whatever.

Even when Taemin starts sneaking out at night, the summer after sophomore year, 15 years old, it doesn't magically make them have a speaking relationship. All it does is distract Jonghyun as he's sitting at his window sill, scented candle lit, summer reading program report under his hands. Distracts him and makes him drop his pencil four floors into the bushes that line the building.

He doesn't watch it long enough to see it hit the ground. He's far too interested in watching whatever the fuck Taemin thinks he's doing. He's clambering out of his window, his third-story window, nothing but a concrete drop below him, and then he's actually climbing up, up the wall, up the building, up three floors until he's hauling himself up onto the roof.

When Taemin makes it up there, he rolls out of view over the ledge, but then his head pops back over. He looks all the way down, and even from far away, Jonghyun can see the huge smile spread over his face. His hands slap excitedly on the ledge before he stands up, turns, and disappears again as he jogs away, the high kick of his ankle behind him as he stumbles a step the last thing that Jonghyun sees of him.

Until he sees him sneaking out again the next night.

It doesn't become a nightly thing, but it is still regular enough that, every night when he's at his window sill with a candle and some writing, he’ll glance up at any movement he sees across the way just in case. It doesn't stop when school starts back up again, either. Sometimes Jonghyun will watch Taemin clamber out of his window, up the building, and disappear on the roof one night and then watch him sleeping on the bus the next morning, wondering how many hours he actually got. Sometimes he'll be up late enough to watch Taemin sneak back in, a descent three floors down from the roof that stops Jonghyun's heart every time.

School goes on. Jonghyun takes storytelling electives; music, ceramics, creative writing, art. He reads comic books, watches anime, looks up walkthroughs of video games that he can't play himself. He gets detention one time for being late and a kid sitting next to him offers him some weed, which he tries but doesn't really like, but that kid helps him through some spontaneous crying a few weeks later so they become pretty close and he winds up being the designated driver to a bunch of stoners. His dad moves out, his sister moves out, his sister moves back in. He picks up a part-time job at a music store during his senior year to help with the bills.

He sees Taemin around every now and again. They have ceramics together, for one. Taemin sits at another table with his own group of friends, but he smiles and says hey to Jonghyun when they wind up in the glazing room together. He comes into Jonghyun's job sometimes, looking over new album releases and buying everything a particular band puts out.

Jonghyun sees Taemin dancing during school pep rallies, assemblies, during rehearsals and the big night for a talent show they're both in where Jonghyun almost cries on stage because he's so nervous to be playing one of his own self written songs in front of people. He cries backstage instead and they still don't talk, but Taemin offers him a quick hug as they pass, hand rubbing over his back, and then he's gone before Jonghyun even really realized he was there in the first place. Later that night, Taemin sneaks out and then back in again within an hour.

And that night is also the first night that Taemin notices Jonghyun watching him. It’s just as he’s putting his hands on his windowsill to hoist himself up that he hesitates and, for a reason that Jonghyun can't come up with, looks directly across the way at Jonghyun.

He jumps when he sees Jonghyun, like he's startled; Jonghyun waves, a little confused, a little amused. Taemin looks down, covering what has to be an embarrassed smile with his hand.then Taemin looks up, waves back, and clambers out of his window and up the wall like usual. After he reaches the top, he peeks his head over the edge for the first time since that first night. Jonghyun leans just a little bit out of his window to smile and wave again. Even with all of the distance between them, Jonghyun can see the flash of his smile as Taemin taps two fingers to his temple and flicks them off in a salute.

From that night on, everytime that Taemin sneaks out, they wave at each other.

They graduate; Jonghyun with okay grades and Taemin with probably the same. Jonghyun doesn't go to college or anything. He upgrades his job at the music store to full time and does some freelance work online writing articles about art events and festivals in the area while he tries to work on his own stories in his free time. Taemin doesn't leave town either, because he still climbs out of his window and disappears over the roof on a regular basis. It's not until Taemin comes into the music store one time to buy a new CD and Jonghyun recognizes the logo on his hoodie as belonging to the local dance theater that he figures out what Taemin has been up to lately.

And it's not until they happen to both wind up in the little corner store down the street from their apartment complex at the same time that they have their first real conversation.

Jonghyun is there because he wanted snacks and his sister wanted snacks and he lost the rock paper scissors to decide who would go out and get some. Taemin is apparently there to buy some booze because he's standing in front of all of the refrigerators and contemplating the selection when Jonghyun opens one next to him to grab a couple bottles of soda.

"Oh, sorry," Taemin says, glancing at him and stepping a little bit away, and then, brighter, "oh, hey Jonghyun."

"Hey," Jonghyun says back, pleasantly surprised to recognize him. "Party?" he asks, nodding at all of the liquor. Taemin shakes his head, tells Jonghyun that he's just looking for something fun and fruity to enjoy by himself in his room sometimes. For self-care, he says. Jonghyun tells him he gets that and taps the glass in front of one of his favorite fruity boozy drinks in recommendation. Taemin shrugs and takes his word, opening the refrigerator and pulling out the bottle without even really looking at the label or anything on it. Then, after a moment's hesitation, asks, "how old are you again?"

"20," Jonghyun tells him, smiling a little sheepishly. "Maybe I ask my sister to buy me alcohol. Don't tell anyone."

And Taemin's response to that is a snort, a broad grin, and a hand slipping into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this," he says as he pulls out his ID card from its clear plastic flap, slots it in with all his other cards, pulls out a different ID card, and puts that in the flap.

The blunt casualness of that whole exchange surprises a laugh out of Jonghyun, one that sounds loud in the quiet little store. He doesn't try to stifle it; has never really tried to stifle his laughter. Still chuckling, he offers up his pinky to Taemin to promise. Taemin looks at him, looks at his pinky, covers his mouth and nose with the back of his hand for a moment, then links their pinkies together.

Taemin buys his alcohol and leaves the store before Jonghyun finishes picking up all of his snacks, but he sees Taemin ahead on the sidewalk on the way back and jogs to catch up with him.

"Don't go climbing out of your window after you drink any of that," he says, worried halfway through the sentence that maybe he's overstepping but finishing anyway. Taemin does that thing again, where he looks down and rubs his nose, and is the first one to offer up his pinky this time.

Taemin picks up a fashion for denim-on-denim, leather, spikes. Dark clothes, baggy hoodies, lots of rings. Beanies, worn-out shoes. Jonghyun attaches himself to big comfy sweaters, turtlenecks, bracelets cinching over the sleeves. Ripped jeans, snapbacks, boots. Taemin lets his hair grow out until it fans out around his face, soft and wavy, then cuts it short into a choppy bowl cut and a crisp undercut. Jonghyun tries out an undercut too, finds he likes it, experiments with dying his hair every couple of months. Taemin has some new piercings–shark bites, cheek studs, spikes through his ears. Jonghyun has some new tattoos–words on his arms, permanent bracelets around his wrists, planets on his side, a starscape on his back.

Jonghyun starts teaching guitar lessons at the music store to kids on the weekends. His mom gets promoted at her job. They stop struggling as much, settle into something almost resembling financial security. He keeps freelancing and in one of his articles he writes about a culture show the dance theater is putting on. In the picture that runs with the article, Taemin is standing on the end, smiling with his arm around a fellow dancer, doing a victory sign for the camera.

There's a queer club down the street from the music store that Jonghyun goes to sometimes. He makes new friends, has a couple of casual hookups, has a cute girlfriend for a while but things don't really work out. It's fine between them after. Taemin almost has a cute date friend one time, but that doesn't work out either. Jonghyun knows this because he watches the whole thing happen from his window sill.

He's there, writing notebook under his hands, scented candle next to his elbow, just like every night, and Taemin is suddenly there on the roof. Except, for once, he's not alone. Someone else is with him. A little taller, thick dark hair spilling out of a pulled up hoodie, and that's about all Jonghyun can see of them. The pair of them sit down on the ledge, feet dangling over nothing, close enough that their shoulders almost brush every so often.

Jonghyun doesn't mean to snoop, or eavesdrop, or anything. Taemin's love life is his own business. It's interesting, yeah, to watch them stargazing and talking together, but Jonghyun really is only glancing up at them every couple of minutes to distract his brain a little bit so he can focus on his writing without getting distracted a lot by something else. And it just so happens, that during one of those glances, Taemin tries to make his move.

It's not much of a move; a purposeful bump of their shoulders, a rub of his nose with the back of his hand, something said to make them look at him directly. More quiet words, a leaning in–not all the way, but enough to be clear–a tilt of his head like he's asking a question, and then.

And then. The other person leaning back, shaking their head, covering their mouth with both hands. Quickly they reach for Taemin's hand, holding it tight as they speak earnestly, as Taemin nods up and down and tugs his hair at the back of his head where they can't see.

They sit together for a little while longer after that, but a barely perceptible distance apart now, enough space that they don't accidentally bump shoulders anymore. Then the other person stands up, starts to walk away. Taemin turns and takes their hand, carefully, asks them something that they nod in agreement to. Taemin drops their hand, flops his own hands into his lap. The other person walks away, and then a minute later, Taemin falls back, sprawls himself out over the roof until all Jonghyun can see are his legs still dangling. They kick in the air for a few seconds before flopping limply back down in defeat.

Jonghyun looks back to his writing with a shake of his head. Poor baby.

He doesn't see Taemin sneak out for a couple of weeks after that. Then, another night, another candle, another page of writing, he glances up and finds Taemin sitting at his window, arms crossed on the windowsill, face nestled in his elbow, cheek smushed up as he pouts out at nothing. Jonghyun can't help it; he smiles at the image.

"Hey sorry about your heartbreak dude" is what he texts to Taemin once he finds his number buried in all of his contacts, an entry probably put in during high school for some project that neither of them remember. And then he just watches, waits, until Taemin leans away from his window. A moment later, Taemin returns, and this time he's holding his phone and looking up at Jonghyun. Jonghyun waves with an apologetic little shrug.

"Damn you saw that??? " Taemin texts back. Jonghyun replies that he did indeed see it and offers more condolences. Taemin's sigh is audible to Jonghyun even from so far away, but he replies anyway. They talk about nothing, really; Taemin asks what Jonghyun is always writing about and Jonghyun tells him. His book that he's been working on for a while. The one where he wanted to write a love story but wound up accidentally writing a breakup scene in the first chapter and then just went with it. Taemin seems to take some comfort in hearing about a failed romance.

The night after that, Taemin climbs out of his window again.

Him and Taemin text still. Not often, and when they do, it's never really a full conversation. Mostly just memes shared at 2 in the morning, small talk, happy birthdays. Look at that dog texted fervently at 7 p.m. On a Thursday dragging one of them at light speed to their window to obey. Taemin makes his way into one of Jonghyun's articles again, this time a little spotlight of his work as a choreographer for an entire show.

Jonghyun's manager gets fired for tax evasion or some bullshit and suddenly he finds himself as the manager instead. Not because he's super qualified for the job, but because he's worked there for the longest, almost 11 years, and the rest of the employees are mostly part-time high school kids. All of a sudden he has all of these duties and responsibilities that he doesn't know what to do with, on top of dealing with the mess that his old boss left him with. The first thing he does is give himself and all of the employees a raise, which at first gets him a serious reprimand from upper management of the store chain, but he doesn't give a shit and the next month he gets praised for reducing customer service complaints and boosting product sales.

One night Taemin comes into the music store to buy a new album from his favorite band a couple weeks later than Jonghyun was expecting him to. Usually he shows up on day one; when Jonghyun mentions that to him, he rubs his nose with the back of his hand and shrugs, mumbling something about a giveaway online and shipping problems. Jonghyun chuckles at that, mentions that the cardboard stand that they have in the store to promote the album is free for him to take, if he wants it. He's the manager. He can do that now.

Taemin's eyes widen behind his bangs, his teeth flash in a huge smile. He thanks Jonghyun emphatically, grabs the stand, and walks out with it, holding it in front of him as he goes and biting his lip.

Jonghyun finds himself thinking about that later in bed. Taemin’s teeth biting into his bottom lip. Digging into soft, plush pink. He looked different today. Something about his face, his nose. A nose job, Jonghyun guesses, something to change the tip of his nose from a cute soft hook to a cute round end. He dropped his shark bite piercings at some point and replaced them with studs. two silver squares on each side of his bottom lip, matching the ones that dimple his cheeks, the sets that outline the tips of his eyebrows. Matching the ones lined up below his collar bones. Jonghyun could see those in the dip of his v-neck.

The piercings won't leave his mind as he tries to fall asleep. Heavy silver, bold, striking, a statement of toughness outlining his delicate features. Jonghyun wonders how they feel, if he ran his fingers over them would they be cold or would they have absorbed Taemin’s body heat. He makes the mistake of wondering if Taemin has matching studs on his hips and realizes with a start that he's running his fingers over his own lips, imagining how it would feel if he were to drag his mouth over them.

Face hot, lips tingling, Jonghyun rolls over in bed and tries to think of anything else.

It works. For a little bit. Until the next day when he waves at Taemin as he heads out for the night. Then he's thinking about them again. Then he's thinking about what kind of noises Taemin would make if Jonghyun kissed his piercings. About how much deeper, huskier Taemin's voice sounded in the store. It had to have been that deep the last time they talked, the last time Taemin came in to buy an album, but–if it was, Jonghyun doesn't remember noticing or caring as much as he does now.

This new realization has him trying with all his heart to think about himself, what it means that he's gone his whole life without knowing that he had a thing for piercings, what it means if it's not the piercings and it's just Taemin, what it means if he suddenly starts lusting over the boy next door.

This lasts for about two more days until he gets tired of it and decides to just do something about it.

So the next time he catches Taemin about to climb out of his window a little bit after midnight, he waves frantically to get his attention. Taemin stops, looks at him, smiles, waves back. Jonghyun beckons towards him, trying to communicate that he wants him to come over without shouting. Taemin points at himself then over up at Jonghyun, tilting his head; Jonghyun nods eagerly, beckoning again. Without a moment of hesitation this time, Taemin nods and holds up one finger.

He climbs up his building, and then instead of disappearing away from Jonghyun, he walks along the edge. Jonghyun leans a little bit out of his window to watch him all the way down to where the parallel lines of their apartment buildings turn into a U for him to cross, until he gets too close to Jonghyun's side to see anymore. Then, a minute later, there's a crunch of shoe against brick outside his window. He moves his tealight candle out of the way and Taemin slips into his room feet first.

"Hey," he says. "What's up? Can I smell?"

A finger with chipped black nail polish touches next to Jonghyun's tiny candle. He has studs on the backs of his wrists too. Jonghyun lets him smell with a warning to be careful not to spill it, and then tries to figure out a way to say what he wants to say tactfully. He didn't think this part through. It's not really his style to come up with detailed plans, just to try things out and see if they work. Finally, after a bunch of starts and stops, half asked questions, an exasperated sigh, he just says, "do you want to make out?"

And in the silence after the question, in the dim light of his desk lamp, Taemin's tongue wets his lips.

"Sure," he says.

Nice.

Sure turns into Taemin in Jonghyun's lap, turns into Jonghyun gliding his thumb over the studs under Taemin's lip, turns into Taemin cupping his face and pressing their mouths together. Kissing turns into Jonghyun's hands sliding up under his shirt, turns into Taemin groaning the hottest noise Jonghyun has ever heard into his mouth, turns into him standing with his sweater half way over his head frantically whispering to Taemin that his bed is too squeaky and his family is trying to sleep.

He takes Taemin to the floor, sits on his hips and grinds down while Taemin fumbles with his own belt buckle, hands bumping Jonghyun's cock through his pajama pants. Jonghyun hadn't meant for this to happen, wasn't planning on fucking Taemin, but he doesn't want to stop.Taemin doesn't either, says god no when Jonghyun asks and that's enough of a reason to Jonghyun to keep going. He's pushing Taemin's shirt up while Taemin is trying to reach up onto his bed for a pillow, and it's rushed and it's messy, but Jonghyun discovers that Taemin not only has studs along the V of his but also one over his belly button, bars through his nipples, and, best of all, when he pulls Taemin's pants down, four of us small silver balls like an X around the head of his cock.

Lube from his desk, three fingers deep into his own ass, thumb tracing over every piercing on Taemin's hips, so hard it hurts, almost delirious with want, Jonghyun barely hears Taemin when he says, "I've always thought you were cute."

The piercings in his collar bones glint in the light, his skin glistens with summer sweat, the sharp angle of his jawline, the shadow of his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, the raw edge on his voice as he says, "I've always liked you, ever since we were kids, I've always–I don't know when it turned into a crush, but I–god that feels so good. Oh my fucking god." Halfway down Taemin's cock, Taemin grabs Jonghyun's hips and pulls him down all the way, knocks the breath from his lungs. "Jonghyun," he says, "more."

Jonghyun gives him more until he can't anymore, until his thighs are burning and his arms are trembling. Taemin removes the effort for him by turning them around until he's on his back. Taemin fucks him like that, tries to kiss him more but quickly gives up and buries his face in Jonghyun's neck instead. With "you're perfect, you're perfect, you're so fucking perfect, " breathed under his ear, Jonghyun hooks his leg around Taemin's back, pulls him in harder, faster, whispers his own pleads back, begs Taemin to bite him, bite his neck.

Taemin bites him, hard, and that's how he comes, body frozen underneath him until he goes all the way limp, only barely registering in some faraway part of his brain Taemin's choked breaths and the warmth pooling inside of him. He's weak, hazy, loopy, giggling, and Taemin's gentle hands are on him again, picking him up, putting him on his knees, and Jonghyun is glad to obey, glad to do whatever the fuck when he's this blissed-out.

Quiet curses as hands smooth over his back, the softest "oh, wow," whispered as fingers trace his constellations, and then the deepest groan as Taemin's tongue touches his skin. Jonghyun's eyes fly open, his voice rises three octaves, he slaps both hands over his mouth to stifle the noises he's making, noises he’s never made before in his life. The moment that he realizes that Taemin has a tongue stud is the moment that everything goes white, and then the next moment, everything goes dark.

The next morning he wakes up alone, in his bed, pajama pants back on, candle burned all the way down to nothing, window closed. He's not angry, or hurt, but he is a little grumpy all day long until he walks up to the entrance of the apartment complex after work and Taemin is sitting on one of the big potted plants outside the door.

He stands up when Jonghyun gets close to him, presses a large jar candle of the scent from last night into his hands, and, blinking a mile a minute, blurts out, "hey, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for last night when I told you I was in love with you and then fucked you and then panicked and left," to which Jonghyun, baffled, wracking his memory, replies, "did you tell me you're in love with me?"

Which kicks Taemin's blinking into overdrive, starts up a long, stammering babble that Jonghyun can confidently say he understands about 20% of. After a minute he realizes that Taemin isn't going to stop, so he interrupts him by asking, "Taemin, do you want to go on a date?"

A few days later, they share a mountain of fries on an outside table at some burger joint. Taemin, embarrassed, reading notes from his phone, admits that he's had a crush on Jonghyun for what feels like forever but was always too shy and infatuated to make a move. Jonghyun, embarrassed, scratching the back of his head, admits that he just got suddenly horny for the piercings one day and was a little too impulsive in making his move. Both of them, laughing, agree that it would probably be nice to work towards a middle ground together.

And it is.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Truth (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Crack, fluff

Summary: By some dumb luck, Todoroki’s drank some truth serum, and it’s the only way anyone finally hears what’s on his mind aka my excuse for making Todo act like an incorrect meme

Word count: 1,802

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

a/n: I’m back on my Todoroki BS.  Only because I had no other ideas and I was babysitting most of the day so I had to pick something that I can passively write without any intense feelings.  And because Todo deserves some crack.  Not terribly proud of it, but it was a good idea in my head so, here ya go.

"It was a mistake!  Honestly!" Hatsume cries, backed against the wall at the group of students confronting her.

"Well, YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO FIX IT!" Bakugou yells, the most ticked off of all of them, sparks popping in his palms.

"How could you do something so irresponsible?  What were you even doing with something like that?"  Iida reprimands the girl, chopping the air as usual.

I was planning on asking Hastume for some adjustments on my hero costume, but instead I'm standing in the doorway watching a confrontation.  In addition to the two boys, Uraraka and Midoriya stand behind them, slightly flustered but still cross.  Yaoyorozu stands with them, arms crossed over her chest in disappointment.

"Uh...?"  All of their heads snap towards me.  "What's...going on, guys?"

Before anyone has a chance to respond, Bakugou bellows, "THIS IDIOT MADE ICYHOT INTO A RUDE EMO BASTARD!"

Huh?  I blink and turn to the three standing aside for a better explanation while Iida continues reprimanding the support girl for her wrongdoings.

Yaoyorozu rubs the bridge of her nose.  "Hastume-san made a truth serum for some reason and left it in a cup of tea, which he drank."

"I thought he would've liked it to cheer him up," Uraraka twiddles her finger nervously, "He seemed more stoic and quiet than usual today.  Deku and I came for some upgrades and we saw it on the table."

"Hastume-san said I could have it, but we figured Todoroki would've liked it instead," Midoriya whines out.  "It's all my fault, I did this."

"You had no way of knowing, Midoriya, don't beat yourself up," I assure the poor boy and I quirk an eyebrow.  "But, if Hastume said you could have it, and there was a truth serum inside it, then what was she trying to...?"  I slowly turn to the girl in question.

At my train of logic, Bakugou growls and steps closer to her.  "YOU BETTER START TALKING, PINK HAIR!"

Her face becomes flustered.  "I just needed to ask him a few questions, that's all!"

"You should be ashamed of coercing your schoolmates for information like that!  That's way beyond unethical!" Iida chimes in, truly the class representative.

"Guys, why she did it is a whole side issue, the bigger thing is that she makes something to fix it," I cross my arms in front of my chest and give her a harsh stare.

Hastume waves her arms around.  "I promise it's only temporary!  It should wear off by itself in an hour or less!"

"If you're wrong, I won't have any qualms about the two of us roughing you up," I crack one of my knuckles and she nods frantically.  I turn to Bakugou.  "Wait, so what do you mean Todoroki's a 'rude, emo bastard'?"

.

"I think it's unhealthy for you to be eating all those sweets, but it's part of your quirk, so I guess you can't help it."

Frankly, Sato doesn't know how to react to that.  The confused guy was just coming out of his dorm with freshly baked cakes ready to share with his classmates when Todoroki, quite literally, violated his quirk with such a stoic expression.

"Okay, I understand the rude part," I whisper to Midoriya, covering my hand with my mouth.

"Just wait, it gets worse."

Mineta casually walks down the hall towards the two boys and waves, "What's up guys-"

Todoroki looks down at the little purple boy.  "I'd love to file a restraining order against you on behalf of every girl in this school, it's a good thing you're not pansexual or else I would've done it myself."

Mineta's jaw drops to the floor.  "I- Where-"

Kaminari laughs from behind, patting the boy's back.  "Todoroki got you good, Mineta!"

Todoroki sighs.  "I don't know how to sugarcoat this, Kaminari, but I'm afraid that being around you might make me lose brain cells.  Sero should probably tape your mouth shut.  At least then he would be a more notable classmate."

My jaw drops to the ground and I shrink back a little behind the corner so they can't see us.  "Oh...my...god."  Half of me doesn't want to go out there for fear of what he might say to me.

Kirishima eases up to the sharp-tongued boy.  "Hey, hey, where's this coming from, dude?  We're your friends."

His mismatched eyes downcast.  "Unfortunately, I was never taught how to be friendly because I was isolated for most of my childhood.  Not to mention my father isn't the most personable or kind either."

The hallways falls silent.  What is anyone supposed to say in that situation?

"I'm going to bed.  At least in sleep, I can feel a percentage of the sweet relief of death," Todoroki casually turns on his heels and walks off.

"Holy shit, it's worse than I thought," I mutter.  I've always wondered what's inside the usually quiet and proper boy's head, but this is something else.

"OI, ICYHOT!"

"For fuck's sake, Bakugou, you couldn't have just left him alone?!" I whisper-yell at his sheer stupidity.

Todoroki turns around to face the spiky-haired hothead.  "Yes, Pomeranian?"

Bakugou growls at the insult.  "I'm still not finished with you from earlier!"

There's still the same cold expression on his face.  "What more do you want?  Do you want me to say that if I wasn't hesitant to use my left side at the Sport Festival, I would've been the 1st place winner?"

The ash blond pops sparks from his hands.  "You wanna test that theory out right now?!"

Todoroki puts his hands in his pockets, still keeping his cool.  "I'd rather not waste my energy ruining this building to appease someone with a deeply rooted inferiority complex."

"You better shut up before I smash your face in!"  He bends his legs into position, about to spring.

"And I'd still be considered better looking than you."

I come out from behind the wall to calm the situation down before it escalates anymore.  "Alright, that's enough."  I glare at Bakugou.  "You didn't need to egg him on, stupid, you just made it worse for yourself."  I brace myself and turn around.  "Todoroki, just-"

"I like you."

The rest of my words catch in my throat.  Huh?  I had to look up to make sure he was looking at me.

His heterochromatic gaze fixes on me.  "You can be just as aggressive as Bakugou at times, and it's frustrating how you have so much potential to be a great hero with such a strong quirk, not to mention that you can be such a mess during practice."  He steps towards me so we're standing arm's length away.  "But you're charming and sweet as well.  Just seeing you smiling makes me feel warm on the inside.  Sometime's it's the only thing I need to see in the morning to make my day better.  And I can look into your eyes..."  He trails off suddenly.

My heart's already pounding and I can feel the heat from my blush reach my ears.  When he stops, I finally let out a breath.  I thought I was going to die if he continued.

Todoroki's expression morphs into slight confusion before his eyes widen and he looks around at all the slack-jaws and smirks around us.  A blush as intensely red as his left side colors his entire face and neck.  When his gaze finally rounds back to me, he nearly bursts into flames and slaps a hand over his mouth.  "Pardon me," he murmurs before retreating to his room.

I'm dizzy enough that I could faint, from both embarrassment and joy that the guy I like has feelings for me too.  My legs are about to give out until Midoriya holds me up.  "I guess...the serum's...worn off now," I let out shakily.

"Are you okay?"  The freckled boy looks concerned trying to balance me back onto my feet.

I nod, my thoughts a little scrambled, but I still need to address the rest of the students.  "So, uh, Todoroki was under a truth serum, which is why this all happened.  Just thought I'd let you guys know."  I lean over Midoriya's ear.  "Can you take care of the rest?"  The weightlessness in my stomach tells me I should go knock on a certain someone's door and talk to them.

The boy nods and I stumble over to Todoroki's door, leaving Iida's signature class rep voice to deal with damage control.  I take a deep breath to calm my rattled nerves as I stand there.  I'd say we're friends by association, since we both talk to Midoriya, but we've never really been alone to talk before.  Somehow, I'd developed a crush on him, but I'd never really planned on confessing.

I gather my wits and knock gently.  "Todoroki?  It's me."

There's rustling of clothes very close to the door, which means he was probably sitting behind it, before the boy opens it a crack.  He clears his throat, "Yes?"

It's cute how he's trying to sound like everything's normal.  "Can I come in?  I'd like to talk."

Without another word, he opens the door fully to let me in, closing it behind me.  He doesn't meet my eyes, trying to hide his face behind a closed fist.  The image of this normally cool guy falling apart embarrassed is priceless.  "I'm...sorry...I embarrassed you.  And I wasn't very kind to everyone else either.  My behavior was completely out of line, and I'd like to take back everything-"

"You want to take back what you said about me, too?"

His face turns even more crimson.  "If it makes you uncomfortable..."

"It doesn't, actually."

The boy finally looks at me, childish shock clear in his eyes.  It makes me want to hug him and not let go.  "Really?"

I nod, "I'm just a little upset that you cut off where you did."  I close the distance between us and tug the fabric on his sleeve.  "What did you want to say about my eyes?"

It seems I might have asked too much of him.  He's the complete opposite of how he was 2 minutes ago, but that's what makes this more genuine to me.  "I...was going to say...I can look into your eyes...all day."  And he finally does so.  "Because they hold the entire soul of the person I'd like to get to know."

My heart flutters at the cliche but sweet line and throw my arms around him.  "Was that so hard to say?" I tease.

"Somewhat..."

I rest my head on his shoulder.  "I like you too, Todoroki."  The words coming out of my mouth feels almost like a liberation.  And when his stiff figure finally loosens up to envelop me too, I smile.  "You know, you're gonna have to apologize to everyone formally tomorrow."

His body becomes hotter.  "I know..."