#please excuse any mistakes its after midnight

[illfoandillfie]

pretty please can I have a (smutty) ~1969 roger x reader blurb where they’re both students and reader is trying to convince roger to actually study for some dentistry exams (since we know he didn��t really bother much with that LMAO)

could maybe go down the ‘roger would rather have sex so reader uses that to motivate him to study’ route? or just whatever comes to your mind really, I love everything you write ❤️

btw no worries if you’re not able to / don’t want to, my imagination has got me this far haha (or I’ll just read curtains for the 50th time 💀)

oh this was a fun prompt! hope you like it as much as curtains 😜

“Mesial. Front surface of a tooth. Distal is the back surface.” You mumbled to yourself, double checking your notes to make sure you were correct. A sudden knock interrupted your revision. The familiar beat against the door told you exactly who it would be (even his knocks had rhythm) but all the same you were a little surprised that Roger had come to your dorm room.   “You should be studying.” you said once you’d let him in, though you softened the words with a quick kiss.  “I was trying to, but then I thought some hands-on research would probably help it all make better sense.” As he spoke, Roger turned and wrapped his arms around your waste, pulling your hips to his and leaving you with no doubt what sort of research he meant.   You didn’t want to encourage his behaviour, but it was hard to resist as he kissed you properly.   It took a moment to clear your mind of his lips and everything they were capable of, but you somehow found the power to break the kiss, though you let him keep hold of your hips for now “We need to study, Rog.”  “Pfft, I’m thinking of changing courses anyway.”  “I know but you should still do some study for this exam in case you can’t get into a new course straight away. Failing would be really bad. You can stay here though and study with me. We can quiz each other!”  Roger raised an eyebrow flirtatiously.  “Not that,” you laughed, perfectly used to (and very grateful for) your boyfriend’s libido.  “You know there’s this theory that sex can boost brain performance. Maybe if we fucked it’d help me focus on dentistry.”  You rolled your eyes and Roger poked his tongue out as a comeback.  “It wouldn’t just be for me though. You’d get a brain boost too.” Before you say anything about his attempts at seduction Roger continued, “Besides, I’ve tried studying. Nothing’s sticking. I think the only way I’m likely to remember any of it is if it’s written on a pair of tits.”  You frowned, his disheartened tone and self-depreciating words a cause for concern, though you tried to keep your response lighthearted, “Surely that’ll just distract you in the exam with thoughts of tits.” When Roger didn’t perk up you decided to change tact, rubbing one palm along Roger’s shoulder and collarbone. “Hey, you’ve got this Rog. You know you’re actually really smart. It’s a bit annoying really.”  “Not about dentistry I’m not. I look at my notes and it’s like trying to read fucking Chinese or something.”  “That’s just you’re messy handwriting. But,” you hummed in thought for a moment, “I suppose I might be able to help.”  Roger’s tightened his hold on your hips as you removed your hands but he didn’t complain as you drew your shirt over your head, revealing your braless chest to him.   “R-really?” His hands slid along your sides but paused before his got very far.   You shrugged and walked backwards towards your bed, “Worth a shot, isn’t it?  His eyes darted from your face to your breasts and back again, though his gaze eventually settled on your chest as he nodded his agreement, “Can’t hurt.”  You giggled and told him to grab a pen out of your pencil case and the notes you’d been looking through earlier.   Roger was quick to collect the items and quicker to start scrawling notes along your breasts in thick black marker as you read them out to him. Each note was followed by his mouth on your skin – sometimes soft kisses between your breasts and up to the base of your throat, sometimes little nips over words you’d emphasised, and sometimes sucking your nipple into the warmth of his mouth.  

At first you giggled but after enough notes and enough attention, you were breathing harder, nearly moaning at his attention. It was a little surprising just how horny you were getting, definitely much wetter than when he’d first arrived. Roger had always been a fan of your tits and you always enjoyed it when he’d touched them but usually you were very turned on before he got your top off. This instance just showed how capable he was of pleasuring you. You’d not had any intention of fucking him when you’d opened the door, but now you were contemplating all the other places he could be kissing, thinking about how hard he probably was, and your resolve to study was rapidly crumbling.   “What next?” he asked softly, pressing another soft kiss to your sternum.  You glanced at the notes, trying to make sense of them.  “Love?”  “Oh fuck it, get your pants off” you let the notes drop to the floor, needing your hands free to get the rest of your own clothes off.  "What happened to studying?” Roger asked cheekily, already working on his fly.  “You need a reward for doing so well.”  “What if all you can think about during the exam is my mouth and cock?”  “I’m willing to take that risk.”  Roger laughed as he settled between your spread thighs, but his lips found yours as he finally sank into you, muffling your moan.  

[calico-heart]

And how about something for Nahte and Naago, because she seems to be a new addition to the polycule? "In joy", please!

Thanks so much for the request! :3 I really enjoyed writing it! Sorry this took so long! 🙏

(Ask me for a kiss! Help me get all 50!)

---

Nahte came in on a midnight wind – and that might have been very romantic anywhere but Gyr Abania, where the sand stirred into desert blizzards, blotting out the moon and stars, and even the keenest dryland hunters took shelter to wait out the storm. 

The stablemaster dared not berate a Warrior of Light, but Nahte saved them the trouble of stewing on it and apologized nonetheless once he’d tucked into the relative safety of Rhalgr’s Reach. “It was a foolish risk. I’ll take the aetheryte next time.”

“Would be an unfortunate way to lose you, Master Vhia.” They replied, “Especially after what all else tried and failed.”

He smiled and nodded. Grani nudged him, and Nahte gave its plated hide an absent pat. A Familiar spun from the fabric of an old reality needn’t fear the desert like mortals, and there’d been no real danger astride such a fearsome beast not bound to the laws that governed spoken races. But that, like many other things, had become difficult to talk about of late. 

“Do you think she’ll be happy to see us?” He asked. 

Grani blinked. 

Nahte shrugged, and started walking. “I have time to think of what to say.” As if he hadn’t spent the entire ride out rehearsing. “She’ll be well asleep at this bell.”

Tail twitching, he kicked at a stone. Wind whistled through the rocks high above, scattering the waterfall before it made landing in the oasis at the center of the camp. Now so close to his nebulous goal, he felt the weight of it too keenly. “I should have written ahead. This was a silly impulse. She might feel pressured, she could be busy." A grimace. "She’ll definitely be busy.”

Grani snorted, eerie gaze following a few soldiers as they trotted in a line on the opposite shore. The clink of its metal claws rattled softly on the stone beneath its feet.

“I could leave. Save us both the trouble.”

“Grnnnn…”

“You’re right. The scouts will mention I came by, and she’ll know I was here. It’d be worse not to say hello. I’m sure I can find some excuse, something – that won’t look desperate. We saved the world, didn’t we? And all the Reflections. What have we got to be insecure about?” A scoff.

Grani blinked twice. 

“I just – I don’t want her to feel like an afterthought.” Nahte sighed, a slow sound against the race of his thoughts that darted like dragonflies between a myriad of half-baked potential failures, each at odds with the last. “But I’m a damn Warrior of Light, aren’t I?” A smile that showed teeth, as the Moonkeeper rolled his shoulders and scoffed. “Disbanding the Scions won’t make me stand out any less. I’ll never just be an Adventurer again. The others – even her – all have homes, callings, to return to, or chase, and I’m…”

Nahte drug a palm across his face, growling quietly deep in his throat. “What am I without all the rest of it?” 

He stopped, and Grani stopped with him. 

The pit in Nahte’s stomach grew cold. He had saved the world. He was supposed to be strong, stable, proud of his success and confident in his own future. The people who stopped him in the streets wanted inspiration. Something to look up to. A man to live up to his own legend. She deserved at least as much as them – more, even.

And here he was pacing himself into a nervous wreck, there would be no hiding it from the keenness of her gaze. “No, this was a mistake. She won’t want to see me like this. I’ll tell the gatekeeper something came up, apologize, and – OW!”

With a hiss, Grani coiled back its head, prepared to nip him again. 

Nahte checked his shoulder for blood. “Do you have any idea what a hassle that jacket is to stitch?”

Snort.

“Well, it would be, if I couldn’t weave with aether. So.”

Huff.

Splatters of light gathered around Nahte’s palm as he lifted the savaged elbow to mend torn fabric. “What’s gotten into yo–”

Hissing, Nahte jumped back in time to avoid another wardrobe-dismantling strike from his steed. “Hey!”

Grani galloped forward, and, not entirely sure how to counteract it without causing more of a scene, Nahte pitched backward to stay out of reach of the metallic fangs so suddenly eager to change his wardrobe. And possibly eat him. 

“Willyoustopit”, he scolded, ears pinned as they danced like matador and bull. 

Grani did not ‘stopit’, and instead lunged with sudden swiftness. Jaws clamped down on Nahte’s cape as it trailed behind and yanked him, hard. 

“Ghuck!”

The beast sat, just as suddenly immobile, while its master struggled in vain to pull free.

“Did Emet let you get away with this?” Nahte snarked, tail lashing as he tugged the thick wool. He ears flicked against his skull, “Did Azem teach you how to do it?”

Snort.

Grani lifted its head, attention shifting to something behind Nahte.

“Oh no, I’m not falling for that one.” He growled, releasing his hold to put both hands on his hips. 

“Domestic squabble?” Teased a familiar voice at his back.

Nahte turned, too fast because his cape was still taut in Grani’s mouth, and staggered ungracefully into the realization that M’naago had waylaid them. 

Grani released him, and no amount of Miqo’te grace could spare the Warrior of Light an accelerated meeting with the ground at her feet. “Shit.”

She giggled, squatting down to pull his hood up and see his face. “I thought the scouts were mistaken. Why didn’t you write ahead?”

Pushing up on his knees, Nahte met her gaze and smiled weakly, ears drooping. “Naago.” He purred, reaching for a hand to hold in his lap. “You’re up late. Or – early?”

She indulged him, eyes wide and pupils round in the gathered dark. “Lucky for me. It’s not every day you get to see someone best the fabled Crimson Liberator. They’ll write songs about this, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Anything’s better than the one about the gigantoads.” He threw a scathing glower of mock-scorn in Grani’s direction. “I thought I might trade him in for a griffin.”

“They’re no better.” She lamented. “At least Grani doesn’t leave smelly little gifts on your bags when its cross about something.”

“Eugh. Don’t give him ideas.” Nahte rolled his eyes, smiling a little softer. Then, “...I’m sorry I didn’t give you fair warning. I’m sure you’re busy, I won't waylay your time. It was… I’m glad I got to see you, at least.”

“Fair warning?” M’naago’s ears flicked with amusement, but something went taut in her smile. A little crease appeared between her brows. Nahte felt suddenly very conscious of the sleepless lines beneath his eyes, and the fact he hadn’t had a chance to groom properly before facing her.

She chuffed. “I ask for warning regarding storms, bandits, and sisters. You are always a welcome surprise.”

Something jagged in his heart clenched, and Nahte turned his gaze to the side to hide the tears welling there so inappropriately. He only needed some seconds to blink them back, and come up with a clever retort. 

M’naago tugged him to his feet, and her free hand put affectionate, insistent pressure at his jaw, urging him to look at her. “It’s good to see you, Nahte. We have a lot to catch up on, eh? But first – and foremost,” her nose pressed gently to his and she purred, eyes half lidded. “Can I kiss you?”

He staggered out a quiet laugh. “I’d like tha–mngh–”

A soft mouth pressed to his, tugging at a lip before he could shut his mouth and dragging a reciprocal purr out of him, as she ran calloused fingers through dusty hair. 

Grani had the decency to cover its eyes with a tassel of barding. But truthfully Nahte didn’t care who watched. He was just happy to be held.

[all-that-glitters-is-goldfish]

Blame it on the Alcohol

Pairing: Jay Halstead/Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, Vomiting

Words: ~1500

Description: Just shameless drunk flirting with the best-looking cop in Chicago.

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re sexy.” You slur, swigging back the last of your vodka cranberry.

“Hey Herrmann, I’ll t-take anotha!” You slide your glass across the counter of the bar, relieved to see the firefighter catch it before smashing into a hundred pieces on the floor.

“Nope. No more. I’m officially cutting you off.” Jay grabs the crumpled $5 bill from your hand.

“Ey, that better be half my tip there!” Herrmann interrupts, slamming down a cup of water in front of you. “Drink that, kiddo.”

You pout your lip realizing that the two were in cahoots to restore your sobriety, but still took the cool glass to press against your parched lips.

“You’re such a party pooper.” You kick Jay playfully under the bar. “I was just celebrating my best friend’s birthday!”

You peer past Jay to look at Sylvie, your ambo partner, who was swallowing back another Jell-O shot given to her by Dawson.

“I don’t understand how someone that small can take so much alcohol.” Jay laughs, having turned around to see what you were so intrigued with.

Your eyes glare at Jay as he takes in Sylvie’s skimpy red dress. You quickly stop staring as he turns back around, his gaze glancing to the still-full cup of water beside you.

“Drink that. All of it.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” You tease, pushing the glass further away.

“I mean it Y/N. Don’t really feel like taking care of the case of alcohol poisoning you’re about to get.”

“And what if I don’t? Are ya gonna arrest me?”

Jay smiles. “I just might.”

“Better whip out your handcuffs then.” You regret it the moment the words leave your mouth, your face burning hot in embarrassment.

You reach for your water, averting your eyes far from the detective, chugging down the drink. “I uh- I have to use the bathroom.”

Standing up from the stool a little too fast, your feet crossing awkwardly as you try to stand. You would have nosedived to the floor if it wasn’t for Jay’s strong arms and fast reflexes quickly shooting out of his seat to catch you.

“You good?” He asks.

Staring into his eyes causes a bubbling feeling to rise in your chest, that you first mistake as butterflies, but quickly realize is nausea working its way up your throat. Clasping your hand over your mouth you make a beeline to the bathroom, wriggling free from Jay’s protective hold on you. You dash past several concerned glances, ignoring your surroundings as you fall hard to your knees in front of the toilet, surely bruising them in the process.

What comes up from your stomach is a mixture of fruity cocktails and greasy food and you note that you’ll never again be eating a cheese blintz prepared by Brian Zvonecek’s baba again.

You hear the large wooden door to the bathroom open, expecting it to be Sylvie, or perhaps Gabby, but seeing Jay walk in caught you by surprise and you scramble to grab a piece of toilet paper to wipe any spew that may have landed on your chin, instead of the bowl.

“This is the woman’s room.” You really don’t want to be seen by anyone in your current state, especially not Detective Jay Halstead.

“It’s okay, I have a warrant.”

“Very funny.” You try to stand, but a wave of alcohol-induced dizziness takes over you.

“You okay?” Jay asks.

“Never better.” You reach up to flush away the toilet-full of skinny margaritas.

“Why did you let me drink so much?”

“Excuse me?” Jay cocks an eyebrow.

“You’re a cop. You should have made me stop after the third drink.”

Jay smirks, walking across the floor and gently grabbing your arm, helping you stand. You fall into him as the dizziness washes over you again, smiling as he hugs you closer. “I took your keys after the first drink.” He announces, pulling them from his pocket and dangling them in front of you. “Figured I’d let you have some fun.”

“You went into my purse? Getting a little comfortable there, aren’t you officer?”

“I’m off duty. Don’t want to have to write you up for drinking and driving.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“I know. Just being cautious. I think it’s time we get you home.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s only midnight! The party just started!”

“Don’t make me carry you out of here.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Jay smiles as he puts both arms around your waist, ready to lift you over his shoulders. You panic as you feel the nausea floating around in your stomach at the sudden change of motion. “No! Jay don’t please! I will throw up on you.”

He lets go, keeping one hand on your shoulder, afraid of you falling over.

“I need to grab my coat. I have a long walk home.”

“Ha. Walking. Funny.” Jay states, grabbing his own set of keys. “I’m driving you.”

“You don’t need to-“

“It’s not a discussion.”

“I’ll take a cab!” You exclaim, though your brain reminds you of the last $80 in your bank account that you did not want to blow on a taxi.

“You have a free cab right here.” Jay says motioning to himself before waving goodnight to Sylvie and the many emergency responders jampacked into Molly’s. He guides you outside, carefully leading you down the steps making sure you don’t slip, smashing your head onto the icy concrete below.

After ensuring your seatbelt is secured, after you had struggled with it for several minutes, he takes his place in the driver’s seat, pulling out of the small lot.

“You were supposed to make a left there.” You point out, realizing Jay had driven the wrong direction towards your apartment.

“Uh, Nope.”

“I know I’m drunk, but I still know where I live.”

“Oh, we’re not going to your place.”

“Huh?”

“You’re crashing at my house.”

“What?”

“Don’t need you choking on your own vomit alone.”

“So nice of you to care, but I don’t really want to sleep on your tiny sofa. I can imagine the pain in my neck already…”

“Who said you have to sleep on the couch?”

“Well, considering you live in a 1-bedroom.”

“You can take my bed. As long as you don’t puke in it.”

You chuckle, butterflies rising in your stomach as you stare at your knight-in-shining-armor. “I don’t think I can guarantee that I won’t.”

“Well, I’m prepared to burn my sheets then.”

“If you weren’t driving, I’d punch you.”

“Assaulting an officer and public intoxication. Real nice, Y/N.”

“Ooooh better punish me then, tough guy.”

Jay’s face blushes as he grins at you, side-eyeing your nervous expression.

“I mean, I could spank you, but I think that would be considered police brutality.”

You choke on nothing but air, thinking you misheard the handsome red head.

“I beg your pardon?”

“So, are you only going to flirt with me when you’re drunk? Am I too ugly for you sober? Don’t think I didn’t hear that handcuff comment earlier.”

“I-“ You can barely speak, embarrassment flooding your thoughts from working correctly.

Jay chuckles. “I’ll stop teasing till you sleep it off.”

“I- Um. Thanks? How kind of you?”

You throw your head back against the seat and close your eyes, trying to block out the streetlights flickering past your eyes as you drive down the snowy Chicago streets.

“I’m going to have such a headache in the morning.”

“Good thing my brother’s a doctor. He can get you the strong stuff.”

“Sometimes I don’t know when you’re joking.”

You smile at Jay as he finally pulls up to his apartment. He goes to open the car door before you pull him towards you by his jacket, thrusting your lips against his own, perhaps a little too hard. He’s taken aback, but quickly grabs the back of your head, pulling you in closer. Several seconds pass before you pull away, unsure of what drove you to do that.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be.” Jay shakes his head, blushing. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that.”

Jay exits the car, rounding the vehicle and opening the door for you on your side. You stay seated for a moment as he looks at you questioningly. “C’mon Y/N, it’s freezing.”

“I just… I was thinking.”

“Huh? About what?”

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch tonight, either.”

“Oh?” Jay grabs your hand, pulling you out of the car and pulling you into his chest.

“What do you have a Queen? I think there’s plenty of room for two people.”

“King, actually.”

“Okay well, we are not making it 3.”

“We’ll leave that up for debate.” Jay winks, helping you inside to the warm building, still clutching you close against the winter air.

[k1rif4ngz]

Tokyo Revengers boys + your new years kiss !

request: "hi bae <3! can i request new years kiss hc's with kazutora and anyone else you'd like to do :D"

A/N: HELLO OFC I LOVE THIS <33 ill be doing separate posts for each character because im not sure on how long these are gonna be !! i also thought of latched by disclosure + sam smith while writing this!

IMPORTANT!!: I COMPLETELY REWROTE THIS AT 2AM SO PLEASE IGNORE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES AND/ OR INCONSISTENCIES!! they will be fixed once i wake up, thank you ! :D

characters/relationships included: (timeskip !) kazutora hanemiya x reader !

warnings: none !

summary: how your first new years kiss goes w/ him !! feel free to request other characters too. :)

kazutora hanemiya:

the 'confession' kiss !

This boy was shitting bricks when saw you walk in the party. He's been planning on confessing to you for a long time so he's really nervous.

Tonight was a special night, New Years. With the special occasion, he thought it would be a good time to finally make his move. You two have known each other for a while now, becoming very good friends after his release from prison again.

Now is his only chance, his only chance to sweep you off your feet for the new year.

The night only livens up the closer the clock reaches midnight and you then notice everyone assuming themselves with their respective parters.

Swirling the drink in your hand, you haphazardly look around at the crowd and then at kazutora; you've been with him all night and yet he's barely said a word to you. You've been planning on telling how you feel right when the clock strikes twelve, but with how the night has started, worry and doubt begin to claw at the back of your mind.

Any time you attempt to hold a conversation with him, it seems like he's trying to push you away so eventually you give up and just sit by his side; oblivious to the blatant nervousness practically oozing out of him,

With nothing else to do, you begin to occupy yourself with your thoughts and the new years show broadcasting onto the tv. Mid watching though, you cant help but feel someones burning gaze on you; burning holes into the side of your head.

Uncaring to who it may be you ignore it and continue to live in your own little world until you hear a very drunk takemichi yell, "10 MORE MINUTES !" before not so glamorously swaying a bit into hina's side.

Taking that as an initiative, you take a swig of your drink and attempt to lighten up with the environment; turning to speak to chifuyu and mikey, unknowing to the man desperately staring at you.

...

To you it seems like time passes in an instant because the next think you know its only 2 minutes remaining till its time.

Everyone begins to stand up in preparation and you excuse yourself to go back with kazutora. walking back to him, you both make eye contact for the first time this entire night. You notice the aura between you two is different tonight, an unusual buzz surrounding the both of you as the time progresses.

Looking away nervously, you turn to face the tv; watching the live counter go lower and lower and neither of you really speaking a word to each other.

Before another layer of tension can settle between you two, a mini-countdown begins as now, only a minute remains until the new year.

You quickly chug the rest of your drink before silently counting down with everyone, trying to get back into the moment. Mid count, you stop as again, you feel the same gaze on you, but this time it feels much more intense.

Giving in this time, you begin to look for who this person may be, only to be met with the same pair of eyes you just met with not too long ago.

You feel trapped in his gaze this time , unable to move or will yourself away from him.

He's a magnet and you got getting pulled in fast.

Too caught up in your current situation, you miss the start of the countdown to 0; your focus only on how you two were gravitating towards each other.

You come back to yourself the moment you realize how close you too are, faces now only inches apart.

"kazu.." is all you can say in the moment.

"hi." you hear him reply. almost like a whisper, you almost being unable to hear him if you had been any farther apart.

FIVE

"its been quite a year, don't you think?" , you start, trying to ease the now suffocating tension between you two.

FOUR

"sure has been" is all you hear in reply.

THREE

"im glad i spent it with you" , you continue.

TWO

"me too." is all you get in reply, kazutoras eyes all to fixed to your face rather than what you were saying.

ONE.

This time its quiet.. letting yourself revel in the moment before you tell him.

'here we go..'

HAPPY NEW YEAR.

"i lo-" is all you can get out before you feel his hands on your jaw, ambushing into a quick kiss.

Pulling back in surprise, you stare back at him with wide eyes, not knowing how to react to the sudden kiss.

Immediately you notice his expression change, going from one with a buzz of excitement to one of extreme worry and dread. Before he has any time to say anything though, you immediately pull him back into a much softer kiss, trying to convey everything you needed to say to him properly.

This time once you pull away, you look at him smiling.

"i love you." You finally manage to say, smiling wider now that its over.

"i love you too." is all he manages to say again before pulling you in again.

Maybe new years resolutions can be completed.

NGL IM SO NERVOUS, IM NOT THAT GOOD AT WRITING FOR HIM HELP !! but in the next part i'll be doing draken + mitsuya's !

© 2021 k1rif4ngs All Rights Reserved.

[fruitcoops]

I was wondering if I could request something? Maybe Sirius' first night at the Dumais' place and Dumo can straight away tell that somethings wrong. Sirius makes polite conversation and it all looks so painful until he retires for the night and Dumo passes by his room and he hears Sirius crying maybe? Because of what his mother said, and maybe because he has trouble adjusting to new situations? Just an idea that popped into my head :) Only if you want to write it <3 Thank you

Yes, I can! I love writing Dumo, but for some reason I don't do it that often--his and Sirius' dynamic is just so wholesome and wonderful. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for implied child abuse and broken glass (no injury)

The first thing Pascal Dumais noticed about Sirius Black was how quiet he was. At only eighteen years old, Sirius was taller than most of the other Lions, with broad shoulders and gangly limbs. Yet he moved almost silently, padding along the wood floors in his socks and speaking only when spoken to. It was…honestly, a bit unsettling.

Dumo had expected a rambunctious teenage boy, still high on the thrill of being drafted to the NHL—instead, he found himself the guardian-slash-landlord of a ghost. Sirius unloaded his meager belongings with little fuss and accepted no help, his pale eyes never lingering on either of them for too long.

Celeste poked her head into the living room in the early afternoon when they returned from the grocery store; Sirius was sitting ramrod straight in the smallest chair they had with a thick book in his hands. She knocked gently on the doorframe, and he jumped. “Sirius, would you like some lunch?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” he said in that unusually soft voice.

“It’s no trouble,” she assured him.

“I can make myself a sandwich if you have other things to do. Really, I’m alright.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Sirius blinked, as if he hadn’t expected her to ask, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “I had breakfast at seven and a granola bar on the plane.”

“Sirius, it’s almost two.”

“Is it?”

“Come with me for a moment, oui?” She ushered him into the kitchen; Dumo wasn’t sure he would ever get used to seeing someone so physically imposing walk so small.

“Papa?” Someone tugged on the hem of his shirt and he snapped out of his daze, leaning down to lift Adele into his arms with a smile.

“Bonjour, mon chou! Did you have fun outside?” She nodded, wiggling a little in her excitement, and put her hands on either side of his face. Dumo’s stomach sank. “Why are your hands wet?”

“I washed them!”

“Why?”

“Because we played with chalk!”

Both the boys were at day camp, and Katie was down for her afternoon nap. Dumo wracked his brain. “Who were you playing with?”

“Sirius!” she giggled, then held the front of her shirt out. Wasn’t she wearing a different one this morning?“An’ he said chalk stains, so he lifted me up so I could wash my hands and helped me get my new shirt on when it got stuck and let me braid his hair! Can we keep him? Please, Papa, I wanna keep him forever!”

Dumo kissed her forehead as a wave of emotion tickled the back of his throat. Less than six hours in their home, and Sirius was already connecting with his children. “Oui, we can. Did you say thank you?”

Adele bit her lower lip. “I don’t remember.”

“Sirius?” Dumo called. The clanking in the kitchen stopped. “Can you come here for a moment?”

There was a beat of silence before he appeared in the doorway, looking paler than before as he walked over to them. This boy needs to eat more, the parental part of Dumo’s brain thought instantly. Slate-grey eyes flickered between them. “She—she had chalk on her shirt. I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

“It’s alright. What do you say?” Dumo asked, turning to Adele.

She turned a beaming smile on Sirius. “Thank you!”

His whole face softened in the blink of an eye and he smiled back, giving her a light fist bump. “Pas de problem, petit papillon.”

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

Sirius opened up a bit over lunch; Adele perched herself right in his lap with her peanut butter sandwich to his clear astonishment, but his smiles came easier after that and Dumo treasured each one. He was already grateful that Sirius did not seem like the type of asshole player that Dumo remembered from his high school years.

Marc and Louis returned to the house just as they finished, and though Sirius offered to help wash the dishes—the boy was a blessing, really—they shooed him off to play with the kids for a while. It would do them all some good to get out in the sun.

“Quiet, isn’t he?” Celeste remarked as they stood side-by-side at the sink. Her tone was casual, but Dumo saw the worry in her eyes.

He hummed in agreement. “He’s probably just nervous, mon amour. They can take a while to warm up.”

“Pascal, I don’t think—”

The sound of shattering glass echoed from the other room. The house held its breath. “Is everyone alright?” Dumo called, drying his hands on the nearest towel as his pulse picked up. “What happened?”

Hushed whispers floated out, followed by the pitter-patter of little feet. He hurried down the hall with Celeste hot on his heels. “I’m so sorry,” Sirius said as they entered the room. He was kneeling on the wood floor, gathering fragments of a small water glass in one palm. “It was my fault. I hit it with my elbow.”

Celeste frowned. “Boys? Adele? I know you were here.”

Dumo didn’t miss Sirius’ hard swallow, nor the sudden nervousness—no, that was fear—on his face as the three kids crept out from around the corner, looking guiltier than anything. Adele stepped forward, but Sirius stood in a smooth, instinctive motion, keeping her behind him. “It was my fault,” he repeated. Dumo’s heart sank.

“Adele, is that true?”

She looked up toward Sirius, who kept his broad hand ever so slightly in front of her shoulder. Celeste raised an eyebrow. “Adele Marie, tell the truth.”

“No,” she said.

“Come here, please.” Dumo watched Sirius’ breaths go shallow as Celeste beckoned to Adele, but confusion took its place when she crouched to her level. “Thank you. What Sirius did was very nice, but we don’t let other people take the fall for our mistakes in this house, Adele. We accept responsibility. Who broke the cup?”

“I was chasing Marc and we both bumped into the table,” Adele confessed, toying with the hem of her butterfly-patterned shirt. “It was an accident, I promise.”

“Did anyone get hit by the glass?” Dumo asked. All three shook their heads. “Sirius?”

He cleared his throat. “No, Mr. Dumais.”

“Marc, Adele, I want you to find the broom and dustpan so your mother and I can clean this up. Thank you for being honest. Sirius, there’s a trash can in the kitchen, but be careful of the sharp edges. And please, call me Pascal or Dumo.”

But he didn’t stop thinking about the visible alarm on Sirius’ face when Celeste brought Adele forward all afternoon. Something was not right.

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

If it wasn’t for the baby, Dumo would not have heard it.

Katie woke around midnight with a quiet whine, which devolved into whimpering, and finally into full-out sobbing for over half an hour. He carried her downstairs so she wouldn’t wake the others and gently rocked her, humming lullabies under his breath until his throat was dry and her tears abated. “There’s my good girl,” he murmured, drying her pudgy cheeks with his sleeve.

The last bits of sleep faded away as he set her down in her crib again, and he sighed. The season didn’t start for more than a month, but he had been looking forward to a few consecutive nights of solid rest before then.

May as well check on the others, he thought, wandering down the hallway in his thickest socks and bathrobe to stave off the nighttime chill. Marc and Louis were each out cold; he took the open book splayed across Marc’s bed and set it on his dresser, turning the lamp off as he left. Adele was curled into a tight ball around no less than four of her precious stuffed animals and he tucked the blankets back over her shoulder.

Dumo’s feet carried him down the stairs before his brain fully caught up, and he paused—Sirius had been in their house for a single day, and already he had the urge to look out for him. The thought should have made him feel silly, but instead he felt…peaceful. He felt right. There was a lost and near-silent boy in his home, who protected his kids within hours of knowing them. Of course Dumo was going to make sure he was alright.

Summer wind rushed past the wide windows as he headed toward the basement. It was warmer there, and he took a moment to mentally pat himself on the back for remodeling two years prior. Hopefully, Sirius would be comfortable.

A soft sound broke through his thoughts. Dumo stopped on the last step.

There was a harsh breath, then a sniffle, as if the person inside was trying and failing to keep their tears in past the point of no return. He heard a few shaky, weak inhales, then a choked noise that cut off abruptly with a gulp.

Dumo closed his eyes to hold back tears of his own and knocked lightly on the bedroom door.

Everything went silent with a rustle.

“Sirius?” he whispered, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the door. “Are you awake?”

There was no answer.

“Can I come in?” he ventured.

An unsteady voice answered. “Ouais.”

The door creaked a little as he opened it and stepped into the dark room. Sirius was nothing more than a clump of shadows on the far side of the bed, squished tight against the wall with all his blankets wrapped around him. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Je vais bien.”

“Can I sit?” Dumo fully expected Sirius to tell him ‘no’, to make an excuse, to pull some arrogant teenager nonsense.

Instead, he tucked his legs up and made room near the foot of the bed with another sniffle. “Did I wake you?”

“Non. Katie was crying, and I thought I’d check on everyone.” He settled down and scooted until his back was against the wall as well—Sirius was still hiding in a cocoon of his duvet, but his hand came up to wipe his face. “Do you want to talk?”

“About what?”

“You seem upset. I know the homesickness is hard for the first few days, but—”

“No.” The vehemence of Sirius’ answer shocked him into silence. “No. I’m not homesick. I just—so much has happened, and I—it’s—this is everything I wanted, right here, and—”

He broke off with a wounded noise that broke Dumo’s poor heart right down the middle. He moved closer until their shoulders touched; to his surprise, Sirius leaned on him and shivered. “How can I help you?” Dumo asked quietly.

“Your family…” Sirius shook his head and drew the covers tighter. “You have a beautiful family. You should be proud of them.”

“I am, every day.”

“Your kids love you so much.” It was barely more than a whisper.

Dumo sighed through his nose. “I know.”

“No, you don’t, they—you’re their hero. And not because of hockey.”

That was Dumo’s dream, laid out right in front of him. If someone he hardly knew could see that, then it must be true. The impact was greater than he ever could have imagined; his lungs felt tight. “Thank you. Is it alright if I ask you something?”

Sirius stiffened slightly.

“You’re not in trouble, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just…worried.”

He felt Sirius shift. “This is about the glass.” It wasn’t a question.

“Oui.” Dumo searched for the words and scrounged up any sliver of tact he could find. “Sirius, do you—what happens when you break a glass at your house?”

Sirius’ breath rushed from his lungs in a near-silent sob. Dumo gathered him close in his arms and held him, letting tears dampen his shoulder as he murmured soft reassurances in French. “I’m sorry,” Sirius croaked, though he did not move away. “I’m sorry for—for intruding, and for ruining your shirt—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Dumo gave him a light squeeze of comfort and felt him go a bit boneless. “And you are not intruding. We love having you here with us.”

“Really?”

He sounded so unsure. So young. Dumo wished he could take away whatever horrible things had been said to ever make someone so kind feel so small. “Yes. Adele, especially.”

“She’s so…colorful.” Fondness dripped from every word.

“She is,” Dumo agreed. “She came running up to me, and went ‘papa, papa, can we keep him?’”

Sirius laughed a little at his imitation and straightened up, drying his eyes on his hoodie sleeve. They sat quietly for a while until the shaking stopped and his death grip on the comforter loosened. “Thank you, Mr. Dumais.”

“Call me Pascal, or Dumo if you like. ‘Mr. Dumais’ makes me sound like a grandfather.” They laughed together, then fell silent once more. “And you’re welcome. Any time you need help, you can come to me. I might not be your father, but—”

“You’re better,” Sirius interrupted, wiping his nose. His shadow turned to face Dumo in the dark, and though he couldn’t see his face, he could picture the earnest expression. “In every way. Please don’t tell anyone about this, though.”

“It never even crossed my mind,” Dumo answered honestly. “I should let you sleep now. We have some busy weeks ahead of us, eh?”

“Bonne nuit, M—Dumo.” The name carried new weight and he let it sink in as Sirius laid back down and kicked his blankets back into place. Something told him this was the beginning of a very interesting story.

“Bonne nuit, Sirius. Welcome to our home.”

[scripturiends]

gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Read on ao3

Summary: It was the one time her hunch had been wrong.

In which Han Joonhwi is acting suspicious, and Kang Sol A intends to find out why.

Rating: T

Word count: 3,848

Notes: Title taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘invisible string’: “Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs; were there clues I didn’t see?”

~

As promised, here is the Solhwi fic that I had hoped to be up before Episode 7 airs. I went straight to work after receiving positive feedback from an interest check post. As I mentioned there, the story isn’t necessarily dwelling on the current timeline, but is, for the most part, still canon-compliant. I totally made up all the legal jargon, so please bear with me. And, like the show, I decided to do ‘cutscenes’ instead of one unilinear fic.

I had a lot of fun with this little project for the past two days, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :) I’d also love to hear your thoughts, please do send me a message or feel free to comment, it would mean the absolute world to me. Thank you and let’s all look forward to Episodes 7 and 8 this week!

The fic is under the cut. As a sidenote, this fic is un-beta’ed. All mistakes are mine.

~

I.

Kang Sol A swears she only drifted off for a second.

She had been burning the midnight oil for the past few days, well into the weekend, so much that the tension was radiating into her atmosphere, so much that the heat was starting to get to her head. Her Civil Code paper may not write itself, but neither could she if it took every ounce of her energy just to even sit up. So she plopped down on her bed, head heavy on her pillow, still fighting the urge to doze off.

She blinked, slowly, and as her eyes fluttered at an alarming rate, they eventually closed — just for a moment, I’ll count to ten and then wake up again — and stilled.

Birds were chirping outside her window when her eyes shot open, and that’s how she knew she messed up big-time. She woke with a start, frantically shaking off the books and papers off her person and frisking for her phone, silently praying that she wasn’t too late for her meeting with her project partner Seo Jiho, who she knows absolutely despises latecomers.

Sol A felt something vibrate from behind her, and an incomprehensible sound escaped her lips as she checked her phone. There were mountains of notifications that prevented her from checking the current time: self-set alarms, e-mails from her professors, reminders about today’s meeting with Jiho, and missed calls from a certain Han Joonhwi.

Clearing all of them at once, she finally reads: 9:07 AM. She was supposed to meet Jiho at 9:15. Sol A breathes a sigh of relief, but her momentary celebration is cut short when her phone starts to ring.

Han Joonhwi was calling again.

She didn’t even get a chance to speak yet when the voice on the other end asked, “Breakfast?”

Sol A put him on speaker phone as she packed up her things. “Can’t,” she replied mindlessly. “I have to meet with Seo Jiho and I’m already late. Eat by yourself.”

A few seconds of silence went unnoticed as Kang Sol A zipped up her knapsack and wore it over her shoulder. She finally picked up her phone and switched back to the handset. “Don’t skip breakfast, you hear me?”

Still nothing. “Joonhwi-ah.”

“Walk fast,” was all he said. And then he hung up.

That caught Sol A off guard, but she heeded the advice anyway.

She made it to the study room at exactly 9:13, only stopping by the entrance to catch her breath and tie her hair back into a ponytail. It was silent, so she half-hoped that no one would be there, but half-expected nothing less from Jiho. So she walks in, footsteps heavy, only skidding to a halt when she sees Jiho staring someone down, someone whose back looked all-too-familiar.

“You like her, don’t you?” she overhears from Jiho. “Kang So-”

Jiho suddenly fell silent at the sight of Sol A, and the man opposite him suddenly turned his head towards her. She was right about who it was — it was none other than the person she spoke with on the phone just a few minutes ago.

If Joonhwi was surprised, he didn’t show it.

But Kang Sol A did. She blinked once, and with a hint of dubiousness, she asked, “Who likes who?”

The men shared a look, and she was met with silence again, which was beginning to irk her. But she bit her tongue, took a seat across Seo Jiho, and grinned cheekily at him. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You aren’t...” Jiho replied, trailing off.

“I am by your standards. I know you,” she said matter-of-factly. “For Seo Jiho, ‘on time’ actually means ‘thirty minutes early’. Which means I’m late.”

Sighing wistfully, Sol A added, “I learned that the hard way.”

She locks eyes with Joonhwi momentarily, but he averts his gaze, expression unreadable. Sol A ignores this and tries her luck once more, eyes flitting from Jiho to Joonhwi and back. “Who were you guys talking about?”

This time, almost with no hesitation, Joonhwi finally spoke up. “No one,” he answered. “My roommate was just practicing his cross-examination skills on me.”

He stood up, giving Seo Jiho a final staredown. “They’re very poor at the moment. Help him out, will you?”

Then, without looking Kang Sol A in the eye, he gave her a soft squeeze on the shoulder, and promptly left.

Sol A’s eyes followed Joonhwi’s back, and stayed there even after he left. His touch lingered on her shoulder like a ghost, but instead of comfort, all she felt was fear. Suspicion. Restlessness. That maybe he was hiding something, and whether it involved her or not, she was keen on finding out just exactly what it was.

II.

“I’m telling you, Yeseul-ah,” Sol A insists. “Something’s up with him.”

They link arms, walking past the school entrance and into the lobby. Jeon Yeseul turns to her, hair falling perfectly into place as she lets out an angelic laugh. God, Sol A thinks. Even her laugh is perfect. But past the admiration for her Aphrodite-like features, Sol A feels like she’s being mocked.

She pouts. “You don’t believe me.”

“I do!” Yeseul defends. “You think he likes Kang Sol B.”

Sol A slides her left hand off Yeseul’s arm and holds her friend’s right one lightly. “So why are you laughing at me, then?”

“Unnie.” Yeseul wraps an arm around Sol A’s shoulder. “Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe Joonhwi-oppa likes you?”

Sol A almost choked on her spit. Of course she’s thought about it — after all, she’s a hundred percent certain that it was the name Kang Sol that slipped from Seo Jiho’s mouth a few days ago. But none of the evidence so far points to it being herself. And anyway, it’s not as if he’s shown any interest in Sol A as a woman. In fact, all he does is tease her. And she’s okay with that. And Sol B already likes Joonhwi. And they seem to be a far better fit than Sol A and Joonhwi. And it’s not like she harbors any romantic feelings for him, either.

She pushes the thought away before it could become bigger.

Sol A denies, deflects, and defends. “That can’t be right.”

“Why not?” her friend challenges.

“Why would he be avoiding me if that were true?” Sol A counters.

“People do that when they feel awkward around their crush,” Yeseul rebuts.

This is starting to feel like a game of chess rather than a conversation between best friends. “I think he’s just scared I’ll tell my roommate or something.” Before Yeseul could say anything else, by some stroke of luck, Sol A spots Joonhwi from her peripheral vision, walking past Lady Justice.

Yeseul smiles kindly at Sol A. She doesn’t doubt its genuineness, but she feels like it’s laced with mischief. “Should we test your theory, then?”

What does that mean?

“Joonhwi-oppa!” Yeseul shouts, waving at him from across the room.

She’s not going to ask him, is she?

Yeseul runs to Joonhwi, a light skip in her step. “I have something to ask you.”

Wait.

“Wait,” escaped from Sol A’s lips, barely a whisper before it started registering on her what Yeseul was about to do. And when it does, she finally sprints. “Jeon Yeseul, wait!”

“Oppa.” Yeseul bats her eyelashes at Joonhwi. Sol A was in tow behind her, feeling small but unsure why.

“Oh, Yeseul-ah,” Joonhwi greets. His eyes lit up at the sight of his friend and classmate.

While it pained Sol A to just sit back and watch, knowing that Joonhwi had been purposefully avoiding her, she let the scene unfold, trusting that Yeseul knew what she was doing.

“You haven’t been going to the study group sessions lately,” Yeseul starts.

Sol A hoped it would get a rise out of him, seeing as he was the one who started the group to begin with, but was barely showing up these days. Instead, all he said was, “The pair project in Civil Code has been holding me up.”

Yeah, right, she thinks. A second-round judicial exam passer and a former police academy student having a hard time in Civil Code? Why do I find that hard to believe?

Sol A scoffs, and Yeseul pinches her side. “Sol-unnie and I are meeting the others for lunch. You should come join us.”

“Ah,” Joonhwi drawled out slowly, as if coming up with an excuse to say no. Sol A expects it to be his next move. “I wish I could, but-”

Knew it.

“Kang Sol B will be there,” Sol A blurts out, fully aware that it’s a total lie. Still, she had to try.

Something in Joonhwi’s mood changed, and his face hardened. Still not making eye contact with Sol A, he excuses himself from Yeseul. “I’ll take a rain check today, okay?”

And without another word, he left again, leaving Sol A with the same emptiness that she had felt in the study room the other day.

Yeseul finally turns to Sol A, crossing her arms. “You’re right. He’s being weird.”

III.

A few more days without Joonhwi’s company, and Sol A was starting to feel its ill effects on her. She hadn’t realized just how much she took him for granted until he was no longer around to challenge her ideas, to annoy her over the littlest of things, to calm her down when she’s freaking out, to be her drinking buddy, to be someone she could tell any and every stupid story to, with the utmost confidence that he’ll keep it to himself or that he wouldn’t belittle her for it.

They’d been through too much together now, and even their fateful first meeting all those years ago didn’t faze him from her. In fact, her little scheme, no matter how deceitful at the time, brought him closer not just to her, but to Byeol, her mom, and to an extent, even Dan.

So what changed? What on earth did Seo Jiho say to him, and what on earth did she walk into, that made him close himself off from her? Proximity may not breed familiarity, but right now she wishes nothing more than to be in his orbit again.

Arguably the worst consequence of the lack of Joonhwi in Sol A’s life right now is having no one to eat with.

During one of her all-nighters at the dorm, she found herself with an intense craving for some ramyeon. She removed her earphones, partly to pull herself back to reality, but mostly to ask her roommate to have a meal with her. As if Sol B would say yes, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m going downstairs for a bite. You wanna come?”

No response, as expected from Kang Sol B. Sol A inwardly rolled her eyes, spinning in her chair to tease her roommate, only to find the desk empty.

She scratched her head while walking, wondering where Sol B could be at this time of night. And without a heads up, too… She was getting worried.

But it seems like her concern was all for naught, because Sol B was right where Sol A was headed.

And she was there with Han Joonhwi.

She was laughing. It was the first time that she saw Sol B laugh, maybe ever, and to see that Joonhwi could be someone who could do that for her, made Sol A feel proud. Like knowing Han Joonhwi was a privilege, not only because of the way he could make people comfortable around him, but also because Sol A had once been on the receiving end of it herself.

She should be relieved. In fact, she should be happy. Because it means that her guess was right, which means she doesn’t have to keep digging anymore. She could just tell Joonhwi that his secret’s safe with her, and they could finally go back to the way they were before... Right?

And yet something about witnessing the pair interact as a mere bystander didn’t sit right with Sol A. There’s a pang in her chest that she can’t quite comprehend — maybe she just misses him, or maybe it’s something else completely. Because if Han Joonhwi has feelings for Kang Sol B, and they’re together right now, then that leaves only one explanation: he must be avoiding her, and for a completely different reason.

It was the first time her hunch had been wrong.

Needless to say, Sol A lost her appetite and trudged back upstairs lifelessly, a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache in her stomach that she couldn’t quite place where it even came from.

IV.

Come Friday, Sol A was too exhausted to even think about Han Joonhwi. Between the endless deadlines and papers to write, her job in the copy room, and the Seo Byungju case, her energy had been too depleted and her social battery too worn out to even care that her relationships could be falling apart.

The only thing she has going for her now is the Legal Clinic, the one place where she could bury her nose deep in case digests and law readings and she would absolutely never get tired of it, because it’s the one place where she feels like she’s making a real difference, especially when people’s lives are at stake. It was the remaining part of her life where Sol A felt like she was in control, so these days, all her emotionally-charged passion was focused on this one thing.

But of course that had to fall apart too, when Professor Yang asked for her to stay after class.

He cut right to the chase. “I’ll be meeting with my defense lawyer today so I need you to consult with the client in my stead.”

Count on Yangcrates to always give Sol A a heart attack in under two seconds.

“M-me?” she stuttered.

The professor’s face twitched, ever-so-slightly, which Sol A took as a sign to backtrack and confidently proclaim that she’s up to the task. She knows there’s nothing Yang Jonghoon hates more than a quitter.

“Ah, yes, of course,” she accedes, with a little more verve.

He nods once in her direction. “And take Han Joonhwi with you,” he commanded.

She’s doomed. Not that she wasn’t doomed before, but now that Professor Yang had to drag her personal life into this, she was really in shambles.

Sol A clears her throat. “With all due respect, Sir,” she laughs nervously, “don’t you trust me?”

Professor Yang takes a moment to think about it. Sol A wonders if today’s the day she finally gets a definitive answer. But Yangcrates is as sly as ever. “This is your chance to get back at him for the Bad FaMa case. Make him your assistant this time.”

He walks away, leaving Sol A dumbfounded once again, but not before he adds, “Under my orders, of course.”

Sol A’s knees buckled at the thought. Normally, she would find this predicament to be absolutely funny, a chance to bicker with Joonhwi and learn something from him at the same time. But he’s angry at her, and she doesn’t even know why, and even merely approaching him has turned into a problem.

Everything in Sol A’s life right now is a problem. She wonders if it's getting Joonhwi back that would fix everything.

Upon leaving the classroom, she spots him getting a drink from the vending machine. She has to slap herself twice, just to mentally prepare herself, to muster up the courage to approach him again.

“Come on, Sol,” she whispers to herself. “This isn’t hard.”

Shaking off the nerves, she takes a step forward, but in a momentary state of weakness, takes another step back. “So what if he’s mad? That’s his problem. I’ve never given him a reason to be angry. He should suck it up. Not me. Come on. Just do it.”

A step forward.

“Just do it.”

A step back.

“Goddamn it.”

One final step back to boost herself forward, and she’s running towards him, pretending to be as casual as possible. “Han Joonhwi!” she calls out to him.

His eyes widen at the sight of her, knowing he has nowhere to escape.

“Did you get my text? Professor Yang needs our help at the Legal Clinic.” She smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

Joonhwi scratched the back of his head, and Sol A just knows it’s about to be another lame excuse. “I can’t. I’m meeting Sol B for our Civil Code term paper.”

He can’t even look at her, and Sol A wonders just how bad she had hurt Joonhwi for him to feel like this towards her. But that only lasted for a second, when she realized just exactly what he said. Then, her pity turned into irritation, as she accused, “Liar.”

Sol A crossed her arms, and glared at Joonhwi. “Did you forget that I’m her roommate? She went home today.”

V.

Sol A sat across Joonhwi inside the Legal Clinic, her eyes narrowed to slits. A profound silence enveloped the room, interrupted only by a sharp inhale from her.

“You like Kang Sol B, don’t you?”

The only response she got was Han Joonhwi’s signature smirk, playful and taunting, one that said, ‘You don’t know me, and you never will’.

She hated that.

She slammed a hand on the table, and pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t look at me like that. I would have kept your secret if you just asked. Is that why you were avoiding me? Because you think I’d tell her or something?”

The same smile painted on his face, Joonhwi exhaled defeatedly. “Kang Sol A, I thought I taught you to never make any claims with unfounded bases.”

An eyebrow perched up on Sol A’s end. “It’s not unfounded,” she argues.

“Where’s your evidence, then?” he dared her.

Sol A had been waiting for this. She listed everything he had ever done — or refused to do, which was spend time with her, speak to her, or even look at her, which was absolutely the bare minimum — since the incident with Seo Jiho up to this very moment.

He waves his hand dismissingly. “That’s all speculative.”

If his goal was to rile her up, then it’s definitely working. “Then what about what I heard Seo Jiho tell you that one time? And most importantly, you straight up lied to my face.”

“Circumstantial,” he quips. “That would never hold up in court, especially not when the only witness is yourself. How are you going to be both the defense lawyer and the sole witness?”

Han Joonhwi should be at the edge of the precipice here, and yet he has managed to flip the situation over and turn it into an interrogation for Kang Sol A.

Nothing can hide her frustration anymore. “I would never be the lawyer in my own case. Look, it’s still evidence. You asked, and I gave it. Seriously, Han Joonhwi, what’s with you?”

Instead of a direct answer, he points out, “You rely on your emotions too much.”

Almost immediately, she shoots back, “And you rely on the law too much. This isn’t a courtroom. This is a human conversation.”

He purses his lips, unable to say anything, and Kang Sol A continues. “You’re too stubborn.”

“And you’re too nosy.”

“You’ve benefited from it more than once.” Sol A’s patience is getting thinner by the second. “Can’t you just tell me what I did so that I can either apologize for it or call you out for being wrong?”

“You and Sol B are hardly friends. What reason would I have to be afraid?” Amusement gleamed in Joonhwi’s eyes; Sol A was astounded by how he could stay so nonchalant about this. “Think.”

She glared at him, but still ceded. Damn his tenacity. “Fine, I’ll play along.”

She rolled her eyes, and in a blasé manner, started to think out loud. “I overheard Jiho ask you if you liked Kang Sol, and then you started avoiding me. Yeseul asked you to join us for lunch, and when I said Sol B would be there, even though she really wasn’t, you declined. So I thought it was her that you liked. But it doesn’t make sense, because I saw you two hanging out at the cafeteria that one night-”

His arrogant expression changed to one of shock. “You did?”

“-and then you straight up lied to me about your plans. Unless you two are already dating-”

“We’re not,” he interrupts once more. Sol A eyes him with suspicion. “We’re not,” he repeats indignantly.

“-it could only mean that you do like Kang Sol…”

Joonhwi starts slowly nodding, face a little flushed, but somehow urging her on to continue.

“...just not B. You like-”

“Kang Sol A.” Professor Yang enters the room, calling out her name.

She’s sure her professor asked her to do something, but she was unmoved. At this point, she doesn’t think anything could pull her out of her reverie for the rest of the day.

A veil that covered her eyes was lifted, and she had never been so pitiful of the blindfold that Lady Justice wore. The scales Kang Sol A carried, as heavy as the burdens she was facing, balanced with Han Joonhwi holding them up with her. She wanted nothing more than to take his hand right at that moment, to feel the heaviness in its entirety, and thank him for staying anyway.

They don't talk for the rest of the day, but Kang Sol A is unbothered.

Her questioning attitude may have always gotten her in trouble in school, but this was the one time she was glad to be wrong.

Epilogue

Han Joonhwi fell asleep on his desk again.

He normally finishes up all his revisions early, but because of his agitation, the cold table seemed to be more inviting than the bed, where he simply ends up tossing and turning.

Despite the stiff neck it was bound to cause, he’s been doing it for days, only being woken up by his constant 8:30 alarms. This time, however, it was his gracious roommate Seo Jiho who finally interrupted him from his slumber.

Jiho slammed a sealed instant ramyeon pack on Joonhwi’s desk. He groggily looked up at his friend, whose hair was still disheveled, and asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s from Kang Sol A.” Before walking away, he deadpanned, “Do your own bidding next time. I’m not your messenger.”

Joonhwi took the cup ramyeon, spotting the bright yellow sticky note on it, not unlike the ones he’d put on Sol A’s notebook, or occasionally, her forehead. He smiled to himself as he read the message, walking out to heat up some water for breakfast, but not before carefully displaying the note on his bulletin board for the whole world to see.

Han Joonhwi,

For a second-round judicial exam passer, you can be so dense.

I like you back, you idiot.

Now stop sulking and have breakfast with me.

Idiot.

~

Send me your thoughts/fic requests here!

[unbreathable]

ride home  / S. Rogers

Summary : As a girl you were always told to never accept a ride from unknown men. You knew what could happen, you knew the dangers and heck, you`ve seen how it ruined some girls. But hey, he`s your teacher, nothing could happen. Right?

Pairing : Dark(soft)!teacher Steve Rogers x female Reader

Before you read, please understand that this is intended to be a dark fic. There will be noncon elements, rape, violence, manipulation and so much more. If you find any of these disturbing, please click away. 18+ only.

Warnings for this one shot : manipulation, noncon elements, rape, use of drugs, lost of virginity. This is some kind of au and Steve might be out of character a little.

Word count : 3.319

Credit : for the gif I used, the credit goes to its rightful creator.

Note : Don’t expect this to be any good. I came up with this over the course of a few hours and I’m still learning how to write one shots, as I find it much easier to write a series. Also I still suck at writing “smut”. I’m trying to perfect it, tho. Promise. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one shot till my mind would be satisfied with the way the next chapter of “The Magpie” turned out and would let me post it. :)) Also, please excuse any mistakes I made. Have a great day you guys!

                   Also, to all the writers from this platform : thank you !

Girl found wondering around without any memory of the last few days, claims she had been abducted and raped...

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at the case which has been all over the news for the past week. It was quite predictable, really. Young girl, too drunk for her own good woke up by herself in the middle of nowhere. You sighed. In a city as big as New York, cases like this happened almost every other day, but there was always something left behind. Fight marks, blood, hair. Anything that could help the police find the person who did it. This time though, there was nothing.

The poor girl. You couldn`t help but pity her. She must be terrified. All alone against a world that knows nothing better than to judge. You pinched your nose in exasperation.

Cases like this, it`s what made you choose to study law. You wanted to be able to help other women. To offer them a chance at justice. No one deserved to be told that it was their own fault for wondering alone at night or for wearing something more showing. No girl should feel like the law protects only the male population...

“ And what`s your opinion on this matter, miss I`m too busy scrolling on my phone to pay attention to class?”

You cursed in your head, as you put your phone away and lifted your eyes to meet your teacher.

Steve Rogers. America`s hero, savior of the world and an actual pain in your ass, was looking at you expectantly. You held his gaze as you forced your lips to form some kind of smile. Something about him always put you on edge and the way his eyes darkened as he stared at you, didn`t exactly help ease the feeling.

“I`m sorry, I was distracted.” you murmured, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he caught you unprepared. ”If you would be so kind...”

You looked at him as you raised one eyebrow. It was always like this. No matter what you did he`d always find something to pick at you. At first you took it as a form of banter between a teacher and his students, but with time it became clearly that he had a problem with you. Your grades didn`t reflect the hard work you always put in. Your extra work wouldn`t be considered. Every time you would as much as look at your watch he`d find something to jab at you. He would also have something to say about every paper you handed him. It was a miracle you even made the grade for his class.

You cringed as you remembered the comments he would make about your life outside his class. You seemed to bump into him on a daily. There was also something, in the way he watched your every move, that it made the hair at the back of your neck stay high on alert. You really couldn`t understand what you`ve done that America`s sweetheart despised you that much.

”The women rights...” he smirked down at you.

“Oh, yes. I strongly believe that women should have got their rights the same time men did.” you smiled when you realized that he wanted to add something else. “I mean we know that every society of this world was built around androcentrism, but if we`re real the women were the ones that kept everything from falling apart.” you drew in a short breath. “Oh, and I believe that 1920 was a bit late for our women to get their rights, since women all around the world fought for it since the 18th century.”

You smirked, as for once in your life the bell rang exactly when you needed it. Forcing a smile his way, you stood up gathering your notebooks. You were quite proud of yourself, not because your answer was the desired one, but because you got on professor Rogers nerves. While he didn`t seem to have a problem with women and feminists in general, he sure had a problem with the way you choose to speak on the matter. From the corner of your eye you saw his jaw twitch.

At first you were afraid to even say your opinion lest you would upset him, but now you enjoyed to see that vein on his forehead nearly pop. You held back a giggle. Oh well, at least you won`t have to see him for the next few weeks.

“Professor!” you rolled your eyes when you herd your bestfriend use her sweet voice. “I was wondering if you`d like to come to our party tonight.”

You stood straight, narrowing your eyes at the one that has been your friend since the first day you came to the city. What the hell was happening. You knew she had a crush on him, everyone did, but she wasn`t the one to just go and ask someone out, especially not him. You watched her in confusion as professor Rogers made his way to the front of the class.

“You know, with everything happening right now, the uni council would let us hold the party only if there was someone that could take care of us.”

“Oh!” you supposed that made sense, but even so why did it have to be him.

“Of course professor Barnes already said that he`ll be there, but we`d be thankful if you came too. Please!” your friend bated her eyelashes at him as you rolled your eyes.

Professor Rogers had a pleased smile as he moved his eyes from her to you. You held his gaze, even going as far as raising one eyebrow at him. He blinked, before turning his head towards the rest of the class.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he said after a short moment dismissively. ”`I`ll be there.”

There was something sinister in his eyes. Something that you failed to see as you made your way out of the lecture class.

“I can`t believe you invited him!” you playfully jabbed your friend in the shoulder as she walked next to you.

“Oh, come on! It’s just tonight, and I bet he won’t be able to stay up that late since he’s like... the same age as history?” she bit back a laugh, as she took your hand. “It will be fun, you`ll see.”

You hoped she was right since you were never a big fan of parties of any kind.

                                       _ _ _

This wasn`t fun. Not at all.

You knew you should have stayed home, yet you still wanted to enjoy the last night with your class mates before break. But this wasn`t it. The music was too loud and you couldn`t even hear what some people were saying. Also you`ve never really been a techno fan. The food was crap and you were sure everyone came just because there were free drinks.

It was well past midnight and you have been there since the beginning, but you were already dreading it. You smiled as your only joy came from watching drunk freshmen being rejected by some of your friends. The girls were ruthless and that made you proud.

“Hey girl!” your bestfriend came by your side, holding two glasses in her hands as her body danced along the rhythm of the music. “Look at was professor Rogers sent us.”

Her words were slurred and you could see that she drank already too much. That`s why at first you thought you didn`t hear her right. While it wasn`t unusual for men to send women drinks, getting a drink from your teacher was something you never thought could happen. It was wrong in a way.

“What?” your eyes widened as soon as the word left your mouth.

You eyed the glass she handed you. It seemed to be one of your favorites, and after the sour taste the beer left in your mouth, that would have been like a desert. Still something made you suspicious.

“Come on, take it!”  your friend pressed as she smiled broadly. “He must have realized that he’s been an ass all year and wants to make amends.”

She was giggling as her glossy eyes drifted around the room. She didn`t seem to be able to focus on anything, but somehow her shaky hands found yours and brought the glass you were holding closer to your mouth. You weren`t exactly sure what came over you, but you opened your mouth and let the liquid go down your throat. Involuntarily, your eyes wondered around till you saw the back of your least favorite teacher. He didn`t even seem to care about anything around him as he was engaged into a discussion with professor Barnes. That alone made you feel safe, even though the drink left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You were too quick to judge, you resonated. This was probably his way of saying: “Sorry I tormented you that much.” You suddenly giggled. It was shortly followed by your friend`s laughter. She threw the glass to the side and took your hand leading you to the dancefloor.

You weren`t that much of a dancer. You knew just some basics moves and that was it, but now you didn`t seem to care. You let your body move, and only chuckled when your legs started to feel like jelly. It was a strange feeling. You suddenly felt like were floating.

You furrowed your brows as you started to feel that your body didn`t exactly respond to your impulses. Everything around you happened in slow motion.

You cursed. Just how much did you drink? Moving one hand to your head, you tried to get your senses back, but you found it too hard to do. Your head buzzed. For a second you looked around trying to spot your friend among the sweaty bodies on the dancefloor, but it was like you couldn`t recognize anybody.

Fuck this. You had enough of this party already, and the way you felt made you decide that it was time to go home. You moved between the sea of bodies as fast as you could. Your coat and purse were the only thing you spent more than five minutes looking for, but as you found them you practically run out of there.

The bus stop wasn`t that far, but just the thought that you`ll have to go home by bus, made you want to throw up. You didn`t feel well and there was  dizziness that started to overcome you. As you watched the empty street, you cursed again. Of course you`ll have to wait till the next bus came. Damn it! You should really get your license.

The sound of a engine from behind you, made you turn your head. Your eyes narrowed as you watched the Range Rover slow down and actually stop right next to you. You squinted your eyes, trying to see through the tinted glass, but as a wave of nausea hit you, you moved your head to the side. You didn`t exactly pay attention when one of the windows went down. You didn`t really care. You felt sick, and all you wanted, was to get home.

“ I saw you left the party early.” the deep voice said. “Are you all right kitten?”

You hissed when you heard the voice of the last person you wanted to see right now. What was he even doing here? Your heart skipped a beat as another wave hit. You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. Just ignore him and he`ll go away. You didn`t exactly knew why you choose to act like that but there was something in your head that told you it was for the best.

“Come on girl, I have to make sure everyone is safe and sound.” you heard his voice. “If you don`t feel fine, I can take you home.”

The idea of getting home sooner and in a nice car was looking really good right now. But still, you didn`t feel like it was the best for you. You choose to keep quiet for reasons not even you knew. You glossy eyes scanned the schedule of the bus that was right in front of you. Thirty minutes and you`ll go home.

You heard professor Rogers sigh.

“And here I thought you never shut your mouth.” there was a deep chuckle, fallowed by the sound of the engine coming to life. “Look kitten I can either get you home or I`ll go my merry way and let you here all alone... well not quite. But I`m not sure you`d want that kind of company.”

Confusion filled your mind. The sudden move you made to look at him, made you dizzy. You tried to focus your eyes, in time to see him pointing to somewhere behind you. You slowly turned.

A group of guys were eyeing you like a wolf would his prey. Your mouth fell open as they did obscene gestures at you. Your whole body freeze as fear took over you. You knew what could happen. Suddenly you were more sober that ever and as you heard the car start moving, you nearly threw yourself in front of it. On shaky legs you moved towards the door.

“Wait” you find it hard to speak. “Professor, I`m sorry I... please!”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, and didn`t even register the way he smirked as you got into the car. Everything was a haze. You only felt like you could breath when the car started to gain speed. You didn`t even remembered to give him your address or anything, but as the car rolled down various streets you were only thankful you were far away from them.

“It such a crazy world out there” professor Rogers voice made you move your head towards him, but as the fear was gone, you started to feel the dizziness again.

With unfocused eyes you watched him. America`s hero was giving you a ride home for free and you were acting like he was your biggest enemy. What was wrong with you?

“I have to say I`m impressed.” he suddenly said as the car started to slow down. “That was one of the strongest drugs that you drank, and you still have some of your conscious left. The other ones were down after a few minutes.”

You looked at him and simply blinked. You wondered if your mind was playing games with you. Surely, he hadn`t said what you think you heard. You must have imagined everything.

“E... excuse me?” you asked dully.

You drew in a shaky breath as your trembling hand went to the door. He chuckled darkly at your attempts to open it. You wanted to scream but as your movement became slower and slower you found that fear wasn`t enough to fuel your limp body.

The car came to a sudden stop. You closed your eyes as you felt hands pulling you back.

“Now, now honey.” you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Don`t waste your energy, you`ll need it.”

You turned your head and watched him through your eyelashes. Something in your head was screaming at you to fight, to run, to get away. You wanted to punch, scratch, hurt him in any way. But your body didn`t listen.

It happened too fast. In a matter of second your dress was ripped to shreds. And your found yourself pressed to the door. He was over you in an instant. Turning your head to the side so that he could stare into your eyes. He had a hungry look on his face. You`ve seen it many times but it never terrified you as much as now.

“Just as pretty as I imagined.” he said in a husky voice.

You squeezed your legs as you felt his hand moving around along your body. He tugged at your bra till the clasps snapped. Your nipples stood erect, you didn`t know if it was from the cold of the car or the heat that was inside you. One of his hands came forward at pinched at your nipples. You made to move, but as sensing your intention he tugged your head back by your hair.

“Don`t you even dare!” he growled as his thumb played with one of your nipples. “I waited a long time for this”.

He leaned forward kissing down your stretched neck. His mouth was hot against your skin. You gasped when you felt his tongue leaving wet traces along your collarbone. He tugged at your hair one more time before his hand went down.

“Always dressing like this world is your own runaway, always thinking that you know it all.” he let out a moan as he squeezed your ass. “Do you know what a face as pretty as yours and an attitude like that do to a man?”

You whimpered. You never meant to catch his attention in that way, you just wanted to feel good about yourself. You wanted to tell him that. To tell him that you were sorry, but your brain didn`t work anymore. There was no reaction even as he spanked you. You felt like you could pass out every second.

“Don`t even think about it!”

You closed your eyes when your panties were soon the same as your other clothes. Slick was going down your legs. Despite everything, you were aroused.

“So fucking wet already. Good girl!” he praised.

You felt his hand descend down to your very core, proding around. You bit your lips as tears filled your eyes.

“How many have been here before?” he gave a low chuckle the same time his fingers pinched your button.

“One?” he mocked as one of his long fingers entered you.

You held back a gasp. Non, no, no. This wasn`t happening. Nobody touched you like that before. Nobody even came close to it. That`s not how you wanted it not how you dreamt it would happen. You wanted dinner, roses, a man you loved... not him.

“Two?” he continued as another finger stretched you.

You felt your walls clench around his fingers, as he moved them in and out ou you, everything while his thumb circled your most sensitive part.

“Fuck... you`re tight!” his breath was ragged, it was like he couldn`t get enough.

There was a sudden pause. In a quick move you found yourself pressed to the door of the car, as he angled your body to have better access to your burning core. He drew in a breath.

“A virgin.” he moaned.

You closed your eyes as you herd him playing at his clothes. The sudden hardness you felt proding around your core, made you shiver. You didn`t dare to look back and see it. You were scared. It seemed too big. You were afraid it would split you in a half.

You screamed when he entered you. The pain blurred your vision. Your whole body ached and tears fell down your cheeks. No, no, no. You bit back a moan of pain when he started to move, not caring about you at all. His moves were rough, punishing.

“Shhh doll, I`ll take care of you.” he rasped. “You must have waited so long for this... saving yourself for me.”

Your body moved in rhythm with his. His cock dragged along your walls as every move sent a wave of pain through you. Soon though, you found the pain disappeared. A strange feeling took over you. It was almost pleasurable. You guessed you would have enjoyed it under any other circumstances. But now? Now you were just tired.

As you passed out, you failed to notice the feeling of something warm flowing through you.

                                          _ _ _

Steve smiled down at your sleeping form. So pretty, even after being used like that. You had a glow. Too bad you might not remember anything that happened. He chuckled. It`s a  good thing he planned to keep you. He`ll make sure you`ll never forget him.

You were his girl after all. The only reason he took that shitty job as a teacher.

[gojoho]

MERCY

• pairing; toji fushiguro x reader [ nsfw ]

• premise; it’s the same dance with him, a shameless game of cat and mouse in which he always win but maybe losing is equally as rewarding. 

• words; 2078

• note & warning; i’m back with some toji content, he’s just been in my mind a little to long for me not the write about him. some warnings for this one is public, unprotected ( wrap it and then tap it folks ) sex, with the usual grammatical errors—I swear I try to proof read ya’ll but they just manage to find a way to stay in there. i am slowly but surely getting my mojo back.

Old habits die hard; it's easier to hate each other that way. Labeling whatever that was manifesting between the two of you as that, a bad habit. A dirty secret only an onyx sky could appreciate enough to hide. Perhaps that's what kept it alive and kicking, midnight turmoil, where even the most terrible of bad ideas are more seductive.

Though it's debatable if the alcohol left you unhinged, mindless, and bold. What other excuse did you have for allowing the bastard to enter your domain? There was no shame from the thinking without a conscience, but with the pounding music and pulsing lights, you weren't sure there was even space to think. He held a brazen stare all evening, keen to every move you made.

A man's attention was never anything to sneeze at, but when it was a straggler like Toji Fushiguro, it was intoxicating. And more than the liquor, everything seemed to be within reach under his spotlight. He held his distance, clung to the darkness, yet with such an adamant gaze he could have been right there beside you. At least, that's how you imagined it but the game wasn't that easy.

  He'd stay in his dark corner, not quite able to step closer until you were ready. Until the heat underneath your skin became unbearable, leaving you an aching mess. That made it easier to devour you. Whether it meant burying his head between your thighs or hooking his arms around your waist and keeping you open. Or bottomed out inside you, mouth feasting on your chest.

The club was full, Friday night packed but it would work in your favor. You knew none of the songs, not that it mattered, it was mere fuel to your movements. A nice accessory to the sway of your hips, to suggestive temptation behind them.

It wasn't worth looking in his direction; he was always watching. At that thought alone, your clothes become a nuisance. A means to an end, that would start with him. Toji was a patient man but knew that patience didn't extend to everyone, you in particular. He was a tease, and as your dress inclined it almost felt as if he'd been the one to hike it up.

A sensation too similar to his hands moving over your bare thighs, ready to pry them open. His smug chuckle was right there feeding your imagination, and as one song faded into the next, there wasn't a spot on your body that hadn't been kissed in theory. With one thought, you were drooling over a man less than ten feet away, fantasizing about all the ways he could take you. It was more of a headache than it seems, and as the pace of the songs picks up, the conscience returns. Whilst you make your way back to the bar. You'd need a little more liquid luck to get through the rest of the night.

  “That was quite a show.”

  “Didn’t know I had an audience.” What else could you have done but tell a bald-faced lie? Telling him the truth didn't do anyone any good. How you envision him fucking you in the middle of the dance floor.

“Could’ve fooled me." The bar was located farther away from the DJ and next to the restrooms. The quieter end of the venue, but you're sure you'd have heard his smirk regardless.

After all this time, it's only then that you turn to him.“What are you doing here Fushiguro?”

Big mistake, ten feet away he looked the same as when you last saw him, but up close and personal, some details that had escaped memory came back to haunt you.

“Would you believe me if I told you, I’m here to see you?”

Yeah right, “Not in the slightest.”

“It’s true for the most part, had a job in the area and thought I’d pop in do some sightseeing." He shifted his weight back to the counter, his elbows well-rested on either side.

“Well you came and you saw.”

“On the contrary,” he said. The double meaning has turned your cheeks crimson, and you're thankful for the red lights underneath the counter. “Cute dress.”

Images from moments before gloss over your eyes, heating every part of your body. They burned a path down your chest before settling below your hips. “Seriously Fushiguro what do you want? You made it pretty clear we both want different things the last time you popped in.”

“Things are different.” Sincere wasn't the word you or anyone else would use to describe the guy, but his demeanor defied all expectations. He seemed to be a completely different person.

  “Yeah, they are,” you mumbled, tossing back a shot you managed to order before his interruption.

  “Look," he started and turned to face you. Face inches from yours, his scent enveloping both of you. "I tried the settling down thing and it doesn’t work with my kind of lifestyle.”

It wasn't the words you wanted to hear, but you probably wouldn't have had them anyway. Wishful thinking, “Then that’s clears things up doesn’t it?” Toji Fushiguro didn’t do apologies, much like he didn’t do commitment, and even as he called after you, that would never change. Something you wish your body would recognize, no matter how much it longed for him.

  The corridor to the restrooms was too quiet for him being that close to you...too intimate. In the quick second you had turned you back to him, ready to sober up and head home, he’d already been behind you. Pushing you up against the wall in the far corner, his arms barricading you in.

  “You’re quite stubborn, you know that.” His voice was low, quiet all to maintain the secrecy veiled in the darkness.

  “Thanks, I’ll be sure to add it to my resume.” You witted, going to duck around him but he was quick and with a step forward his hips pushed yours in back place.

  “Will you just listen,” he pleaded. Not that you had much of a choice, but he took your silence as obedience. “I won’t make excuses, I’m a shitty guy but it’s gotten me this far. You won’t get the white picket fence with me. That’s not who I am.”

It was true, he was a shitty person. One minute here and the next gone with the wind. All with impeccable timing, usually around when he’d finish fucking you senseless. Truthfully it wasn’t something too much of a problem, it was better if he had his life and you with your own. Though you supposed between the kisses, and that final thrust that brought you both over the edge left some vulnerability.

  “If I’m stubborn, then you’re quite dense. I never asked for that Toji. I was fine with the wild sex but was a little conversation too much to ask? You’ve got baggage, newsflash so do I, but you’d think we’d handle it like two grown adults. You’ve always been on the move, please, slow down every once in a while.”

The silence is deafening, louder than the upbeat track in the distance. You were irritated, angry, and, to make it worse, aroused. What else did he expect from you but a meltdown? As he moved his head to your back, he lowered his arms, allowing them to ghost your waist. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, kissing it.

In retrospect, you should have jumped for joy, climbed to the top of the bar, and screamed at the top of your lungs like a lunatic, but you didn't. You didn't want to abandon his embrace at that moment; he had really changed.

The kiss in trial is slow and tender, responsive to not only the worries but any emotion in between. Everything you didn't think he was capable of and all rage bleeds into desire. Each of you starved and desperate to find a fill.

The stiffness of his pants condemned his hold, which found its power over your hips. You want to propose that he return the excitement to your place or whatever hotel he was staying in, but he broke the kiss to turn you around. His patience had reached its maximum for the night.

“Wait for a second,” you mumbled out. A slight moan slipped through feeling his erection firm and strong against your rear. The ends of your dress taunted by his fingertips liked how you pictured them too. “Sorry princess, no can do.”

  It’s almost impressive how quickly he lifts your dress and slipping a finger past your thong. But should anyone know your body in grave detail it was him. There’s a ceremonial cheer from the crowd as the DJ lets the beat drop, Toji’s opportune moment of intrusion. Your own cry, not one in interest to the music but the long slender finger to part your folds.

“I’ve waited all night to get my hands on you,” he mumbled out, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

  “Toji—”

“I’ll be quick, just the way you like it.”

  It’s in your best interest to stop him there, keeping private matters just that, you should stop him...should.

  “Fuck…quickly.” you cursed out in compliance. There’s a smirk on his face, you know it. Sure he’s different, but some things never change.

  In the second he pulled his finger away, you whimper half expecting for it to slip back in, maybe even with a partner but a casual Friday night turns into Christmas.

  “I'll take my time with you later, right now—” he started face pressed into the back of your shoulder. “I just need to be inside you.”

  First was the tip of his cock, a feeble tickle before the rest of his inches followed. Stretching you full, slipping deep into your heat. Coaxing the ache that was for him, letting the world see just how easily your body welcomed his own. Yet, it was hard to care about the rest of the world when your own revolved around everything below your hips.

  He gripped them tightly, anchoring you there at the hilt with a slow sure thrust before looping a hand to your front. Twisting the nerves in time with his sudden thrust. Quick like he said, but still slow enough to feel him move inside you. In and out, then over again. The excitement of having him there indulging with your body, and the anxiety of getting caught clashed. Making you even more aware of your walls around him, but in his muffled moans there are words of encouragement. Sweet nothings that make your arousal fierce, sexy, and less wrong.

  “Don't stop, ” you say a little too loud for doing something taboo but you don't care, “Don't fucking stop.”

  The million and one fantasy that flooded your mind on the dancefloor spirals, winding with the moment and coiled in an untamed void. Ready to snap at those trying to control it. And there, shrouded in the thin veil of privacy Toji picks up his pace, teasing it with each stroke until finally, it shudders through. Coming in waves, meeting your peek every time he pushed forward. Bolting down your legs the more sloppy and anxious his hips became.

  “Fuck, ” he grunts hands shooting to your chest. Pulling you closer to him, eating up your moans with his.

  Almost feral with the way he continued despite his cock’s twitches, he wasn't nearly satisfied but that was a mess neither of you was capable of cleaning up at the moment. Regrettably, you push back on his rhythm stopping it completely. Snapping him from the haze.

“We should go, ” you whisper out on his lips. Which he can only grunt back in response to, hesitant to slip from your warmth.

His hands are glued to your body, unable to null all contact as you tugged your dress back down or as he tucks himself back into his pants. You'd ask whether it was back to your place or his but the languid look on his face as the two of you shamelessly stepped into the light made it fruitful. It didn't matter where the two of you went, he'd have you crying for mercy.

[littleteacupdragon]

Could you do something with analogical and a hand on the cheek when they are very stressed helping them calm down ?

Thank you so much! You have no idea how excited I got seeing this. It's now after midnight, this took about an hour to write and I did just the most basic check, so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you like it!

Silent comfort

The last few days were... Rough. That was an understatement but there was no need to dwell on the past more than it deserved, especially when it wasn't the most pleasant. Rough was an okay adjective.

The thing was, nothing foreshadowed the amount of complications that started to pile up with, seemingly, every passing hour. They say that sorrows come in batalions. Maybe there was something to the saying after all. At that point, Virgil would be partial to every excuse that would take his mind off of blaming himself. The amount of anxiety all of their plans crumbling caused him and, by extension, Thomas, hasn't been that high in a long while.

He thought he was getting better. He thought he was learning to control himself.

He guessed not.

And then there was Logan, visibly struggling to keep his composure while haphazardly changing schedules, calculating the degree of delays, the time that a particular thing needed to be put back on track - Logan's schedules weren't completely packed, always assuming the possibility of something failing, not this big amount of things, though.

You can take one piece from the very base of a Jenga tower without much consequence. Take two and the whole structure is hanging on a thread. One reckless move...

But no more of that. The situation has already been handled, for now. The whole of Thomas was exhausted, which didn't help when Logan and Virgil were still wound up, ready for the next bad news, not yet allowing themselves the full comfort of letting go.

At least Virgil didn't. He sat in front of the couch, knees up near his chest, staring on the wall. He knew thinking about it won't help anything. He couldn't help but think all the same.

The thoughts weren't the nicest; he wondered when will he stop worrying about the things that have no more impact on the present, not to mention the future. They seemed to have no end and an infinite amount of beginnings.

A sound of footsteps made Virgil jerk out of the deepest thoughts, in the small spike of adrenaline he didn't manage to recognise the person they belonged to before they were crouched down next to him, eyes cautious, worried. Tired.

Virgil sighed and visibly deflated, finding himself with not enough energy for words. Logan would understand, he understood most of the times.

And then there was a hand on his cheek, such a simple gesture. It was light and because of that almost tingling where it touched - warm and soft, a little hesitant. Questioning?

He could move back, he knew that.

He just didn't want to. Not this time.

Noticing that Virgil wasn't shying away, Logan let his hand cup his cheek properly, his thumb staring to move up and down leisurely, marvelling at the soft skin silently, carefully. Virgil sighed, his legs loosing a bit of the tension they were holding, slipping away from his chest just a tad.

Logan moved a bit, settling down on the floor next to Virgil so that he didn't have to be wary of balancing on his toes. His second hand moved to Virgil's other cheek, holding his face gently as if it was made out of a very precious material.

It was nothing, really. Nothing special, the gesture itself. The softness and tenderness of it made Virgil feel secure in a way that he'd find hard to explain. He was frozen in place and at the same time free to go whenever he wished, staring at Logan who wasn't looking exactly into his eyes, his focus on his own hands. As the other thumb joined the first one in the small movement Virgil sighed once more, this time letting his shoulders fall from shielding his neck.

And as the seconds passed, Logan started to let go of his miniscule signs of stress as well. With a few more up and downs of his fingers the movement regained its feather-lightness, his eyes finally meeting Virgil's and staying there as the last trails of stress left the depths of them.

Virgil smiled softly, his own hands coming up to rest upon Logan's, just for a moment, reassuring.

Virgil needed to feel safe in such times. He needed to put his trust into someone else, let himself be vulnerable, not fight for control that was slipping through his fingers. He needed to just breathe, to be grounded to calm down. He liked the contact, it made it all a bit easier.

Logan needed the feeling of control over something when he was extremely stressed, no matter how small the thing was. It sounds like a negative thing but it always manifested in small gestures: setting up the table, rearranging his desk. Something not that important, not hard, not demanding.

Being the one to touch Virgil instead of being touched was one of those things too.

He would never demand something that Virgil wasn't willing to give, that was directly stated when they started to seek each other for comfort. Rejections did happen, there was always another way for Logan to calm down. He wasn't the one to cross such boundaries.

But sometimes, especially in such stressful circumstances, there was nothing better than a bit of physical touch.

-

Send me a prompt focusing on touch

Read more of my touch-based prompts fics

[raleighcarrera]

sucker punch

foreign affairs | m!blaine hayes x mc (kennedy monroe)

blaine and kennedy take their hot tub party inside. an extended scene from chapter 11.

catch up: knockout (E) / on the ropes (T) / outpoint (T) / parry (E) / pulling punches (T) / ringside (T) / saved by the bell (T)

tagging: @pixeljazzy ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixelsandkink ; @writinghereandthere ; @choicesarehard ; @dakotawinchester ; @blainehellyes ; @thefirstcourtesan 

~3.2k words | E (18+)

“you know,” kennedy murmurs, shivering as blaine continues to press a slow, sucking trail of kisses across her bare shoulder, “as nice as this has been... i’m starting to get cold.”

“well, that won’t do,” blaine answers, without lifting his head, “guess i’ll have to heat things up.”

despite the fact that they’ve been in the hot tub for what’s probably going on too long, and she’s starting to prune, her hips wiggle excitedly under the water. after the attention blaine’s given her tonight, she can’t help but to perk up curiously, his words piquing her interest. “again?”

this time, blaine does look up at her, grinning crookedly. “if you want.” beneath the water, his fingertips walk up the inside of her thigh. “but if you really are cold, we can take this into the shower.”

she glances back into blaine’s room over her shoulder. “peter’s still out?”

blaine snorts, lowering his head back to the crook of her neck. “he made sure to tell me he’d be at the bar with dionne all night. he even said he’d knock very, very loudly before he came in. you know him -- subtle as a brick.”

“i don’t think that’s the saying,” she breathes, struggling desperately to hold on to the braincells rapidly leaving her while blaine bites at her collarbone. “it has to be, like -- as subtle as a brick through a window.”

“like i care.” his hands slide slowly over the curve of her hips, pulling her in closer. “you must not understand how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

“believe me,” kennedy sighs, lifting her hand to push her fingers through blaine’s hair so he’ll lift his head and look at her again, smiling sadly when he catches her eye, “i do.” 

he leans in to kiss her, then, so thoroughly that she forgets, for a moment, who and where they are. she forgets that they’re not just any two adults, away from their real lives for the weekend at a resort where no one will find them. she forgets that she should be downstairs, cozying up to her fake boyfriend. she forgets that the fantastical peace blaine’s created for her up in his suite is due to disappear at midnight, back into a pumpkin she isn’t allowed to interact with when there’s others around.

blaine’s hips push up against hers, rocking forward so forcefully water sloshes up out of the hot tub and onto the deck. “shower,” he murmurs again, “i need a little more room for what i wanna do to you.”

kennedy shivers, glancing around cautiously before stepping out of the water, yelping as soon as the freezing air hits her skin, her body breaking out in goosebumps. “jesus!”

she can hear blaine laugh from behind her, but only has a moment to pout before he’s wrapping his body around hers, blanketing himself over her back and snaking strong arms snugly around her waist. “i’ve got you. come on.”

they walk together awkwardly through the sliding glass door from the balcony, though she makes no move to shrug him off as they head inside, their clothes forgotten on the deck. her eyes scan blaine’s room while he leads her to the bathroom, and when he finally lets her go so he can fiddle with the knobs in the shower, she plants her hands on her hips and asks, “how come you and peter got such a nice room? dionne and i were set up with twin beds.”

alexei and henri have a standard suite, too, not that she wants blaine to know she’s already seen it. she’s not eager to bring up anyone else’s name -- not now that they finally have some alone time. 

blaine ducks his head, grinning as he holds one hand under the spray, testing its warmth. “i pulled some strings,” he says, “you know -- in case i needed an excuse to get you up here.”

he holds a hand out to her, and she slips her fingers into blaine’s, letting him pull her through the glass door of the shower. “you don’t ever need an excuse.”

“i know,” blaine says, as steam starts to fill the room and water beats down onto his face, “but... i guess i wanted to do something nice for you. us. and this was the only way i could make things special while still keeping them private.”

she’s stunned. there’s something so touching about blaine trying to make magic for her even with the circumstances of their situation so firmly in their way. not for the first time, she marvels at the reveal of blaine’s hidden second side -- the sweeter, softer traits he seems to expose only to her, cultivating some of her most treasured possessions unknowingly. 

kennedy clears her throat to distract from the heaviness that’s suddenly weighing down on their conversation. “peter doesn’t care you basically upgraded his room to a honeymoon suite?”

blaine laughs, and she finds herself stepping closer until she’s under the water with him, too, compelled by the sound of his honest joy. “nah. he’s cool like that. plus, i think he could see on my face how desperate i was to get you alone.”

she makes a soft noise in the back of her throat, looping her arms around his neck. “sweet talker.”

he shrugs carelessly, flicking wet hair off his forehead. “it’s true. watching you with alexei is impossible.”

kennedy sighs, expression twisting into one of sympathy. “i’m sorry. you’re always so worried about how hard this must be for me, but... it can’t be easy for you, either.”

the way blaine looks away lets her know immediately she’s hit the nail on the head. he grimaces. “i can’t say i love it.” there’s a beat of silence before he lifts his hand to her face, stroking damp fingers across her cheek. “so -- will you at least give what i said some thought?”

her eyebrows arch high in question. “which part?”

“the letting-me-take-some-of-the-heat-off-you part.” as she studies him, she sees that the look in blaine’s eyes is serious, a far cry from the way he’d joked and vented with her about the paparazzi out on the deck. “i know you think it’d just make an even bigger mess, but... think about it, okay? i hate what this is doing to you.”

“i’ll think about it,” she promises, pushing up onto her tip-toes to steal a quick kiss from blaine, desperate to get the tortured look off his face.

except that the kiss he gives her back is a far cry from the brief peck she’d intended. blaine’s hands rest on her hips and he angles his head down to seal their mouths together firmly, kissing her as deeply as he can. with a gasp, she twists her fingers into his wet hair, swaying closer to his chest while the weak international water pressure continues to patter quietly down onto the shower floor around them.

blaine backs her into the wall, the tile cool against her skin. his grip on her tightens as he pulls away to take his kisses across her face again, nipping a path below her jaw. “tell me you don’t have anywhere else to be tonight.”

she stares up at the ceiling, the offers she’d had from tatum and ayna floating through her mind. at the very least, she should probably put on a show of spending a little more time with alexei, though the thought of leaving this shower to go sit at the bar and make small talk is -- 

kennedy shakes her head. “no.”

“good,” blaine murmurs lowly, pushing her wet hair back off her shoulders to give himself more room. “‘cause it’s gonna be awhile before i’m done with you.”

“promise?” she breathes, arching her back to try to get closer to him. if fooling around with blaine in the hot tub was meant to take the edge off, it’s had the opposite affect. she’s acutely aware of the fact that it’s been what feels like forever since they last slept together, before the scandal broke. her hands push insistently at his back to try to force him closer.

“oh, you can count on it.” one of blaine’s hands slips between her legs with purpose, his fingers hardly pausing to tease before they brush against her clit, effortlessly falling into a rhythm that makes her shiver. 

kennedy’s head tips back against the side of the shower and she sighs, exhaling a hitching moan of blaine’s name when he pauses to suck deliberately on the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear she’d made the mistake of groaning loudly at one too many times, whenever his teeth got near it. now it was a weak point he constantly exploited. “blaine. god.”

“this is what i want to do out there,” he explains, free hand trailing from her thigh around to her ass and back again. “on the slope -- in the lodge -- anywhere. everywhere.”

“blaine,” she says again, more urgently this time, “i --”

his own hips rock forward in a slow grind, cutting her off effortlessly. “of course i want people to know,” he continues, through a moan, “look at you. jesus christ, kennedy.”

her whole body feels hot, burning up in a way that has nothing to do with the steam from the shower. she squeezes her eyes shut and focuses only on blaine and the wrecked sound of his voice, each desperate slide of their bare skin, and how his fingers know just what to do to push her right to the edge, until she’s shaking and her thighs are trembling where they’re trapped, pinned wide by the breadth of blaine’s body between them.

“you’re so gorgeous,” blaine sighs, just before he kisses her again, swallowing each of the moans that spill into his mouth, the wordless sounds of pleasure she can’t hold back fortunately muffled by the heavy shower doors and the space between them -- tucked away in blaine’s bathroom -- and the rest of the resort.

“please,” she begs, eyes blinking open slowly to focus on his face, “i need...” 

she trails off, captivated by the oddly serious look he’s wearing again, his eyes blazing and intent where they’re fixated on her expression. “what? you have all of me.”

the words are uncomfortably comforting, so soothing it takes everything she has to remain upright, her legs wobbly where her feet are slipping on the wet floor. “blaine.”

“yeah.” his hand stills so he can instead shift his grip to her thighs, encouraging her up the wall. blaine tilts his shoulders, and then he’s able to lift her up easily, her legs locking around his waist while the muscles in his arms flex in a way that makes her mouth dry. “i’m right here,” he promises, fingertips trailing softly across her hips like the rivulets of water following his touch, “let me make you feel good.”

“please,” kennedy gasps again, already nodding before blaine’s even had the chance to push his hips forward. 

“christ,” blaine mutters, as soon as their bodies are pressed flush and the stretch of his cock has her groaning even more loudly, her head tipped back against the tile, “i could fuck you all day.”

the sound that escapes her is unintelligible, embarrassing enough to force her eyes shut. it’s affirmative, at least, and the way it makes blaine chuckle against her throat sends a shiver down her spine, her hold on his shoulders tightening. 

his head dips so he can set his teeth on the space between her breasts, biting a bruise into her skin that no one will see but blaine. while his thrusts chase her up the wall, she clings to him, relishing the chance to get the alone time she’d been desperate for and aching for it to never end at the same time. if dinner with her friends had been enough to make her forget her fake relationship, being with blaine could drive every last thought out of her mind, so that the stress of school and her relationship with her mother and the tabloid drama that followed her like a storm cloud evaporated into nothing, leaving her feeling light as air.

she might’ve even floated away, had blaine not been there to anchor her. fortunately for kennedy, he is, keeping her grounded and steady, making sure her head doesn’t run wild overthinking and second-guessing their every interaction; the blazing look in his eyes and the firm pressure of his hands, his mouth and his hips keep her rooted to the moment, so her head isn’t anywhere but in the shower with him.

as blaine lifts his head, and their eyes lock, she realizes that there’s no where in the world she’d rather be. there’s nothing -- no amount of peace with her mom, no chances to go back in time and have a better childhood or more time with her friends or the space to take the risks she’d never allowed herself to dare try -- that she would trade this for, nothing that could compare.

there’s only her, and blaine, and the leap into the unknown she’d taken when she first let him lead her through campus by the hand at the start of the semester, the chance that had already paid off tenfold. the chance that had changed her life.

she hadn’t looked back then, and she doesn’t want to, now.

“god, blaine,” she moans, pressing their lips together in a sloppy, imprecise kiss. it’s hard to do anything when it’s taking all of her coordination just to meet his thrusts, her hips rocking back against his while the shower continues to run luxuriously hot around them. “that feels so good.”

“yeah,” he returns, voice as tight as his bruising grip on her thighs, “you do, you just -- fuck, kennedy.”

she swivels her hips, gratified by the shudder blaine gives, and then his hand shifts between her legs again and she’s left leaning back against the wall, only held up by blaine’s strength and the force of his hips driving forward, his pace growing faster and arrhythmic, sloppy and eager.

her toes curl against his back and her eyes squeeze shut tight and it only takes a few more clumsy swipes of his thumb before she’s sobbing out a moan that’d be too loud for either of their dorms at vancross, with their thin walls and nosy classmates, but that feels perfectly fitting for the resort, nothing but the snowy mountaintops beyond blaine’s balcony winking back at them.

everything is a blur after that.

she’s dimly aware of the gentle way blaine sets her carefully back down on her feet, how her legs threaten to give out but he helps her stay upright long enough to kiss her tenderly, fond warmth in his eyes and his smile a mile wide on his face. somehow, her hair gets washed, and while kennedy knows she’s just about useless in the process, eventually she and blaine wind up on the sofa in the suite’s living room in fluffy bathrobes plucked from the closet, curled up together in front of the fire.

burrowed into the warmth of blaine’s arms, she’s certain she could probably fall asleep just then, and stay out for about a thousand years, she’s so exhausted. 

“we should do this more often,” blaine suggests quietly, breaking the comfortable silence that’s blanketing them. she can only barely hear him over the crackling log in the fireplace.

kennedy snuggles closer in towards his chest, cheek pressed to the plush material stretched over his skin. “it is kinda romantic,” she agrees, jaw stretching wide with an involuntary yawn. “i still can’t believe you set all this up for me.”

blaine’s broad palm rubs slowly up and down her arm. “all i want,” he says, “is to give you a little bit of normalcy. just -- regular dates, whenever we can get ‘em. you deserve that.”

again, she’s amazed. none of the people she’s ever dated or even thought about dating had seemed as concerned with what she wanted as blaine is, now. the thoughtfulness feels foreign and she’s sure she’s undeserving of it -- she’s selfish and reckless and a walking disaster, isn’t she? why is he so worried about making her happy when she’s done nothing but cause trouble?

before she can stop herself, kennedy hears her voice ask, “do you think you’ll still like me, when all of this is over?” there’s a heavy silence that she rushes to fill with an explanation. “you know -- when it’s not such a risk, anymore.”

she thinks about how in his element he’d seemed, earlier today, speeding away from the paparazzi and stealing kisses from her on the slope. how excited blaine had been when he called her dangerous -- her, kennedy monroe. professional wet blanket, twenty-three years in the making.

“what,” blaine laughs, still rubbing his hands all over her, “you mean when the thrill wears off?”

her heart sinks. that’s exactly what she’d meant. “yeah.”

blaine’s hand pauses, then lifts to her chin to tilt her face up and back so she’s forced to meet his eyes. kennedy blinks as she sees the sincerity in his expression, out in the open for anyone to read. the look on blaine’s face is a mix of so many things she’s seen him cast in her direction before -- protectiveness and worry, fondness and exasperation, affection and awe and wonder with just a touch of disbelief. when their eyes lock, her heart stutters to a stop and then picks back up in frantic double-time.

“duh,” he snorts, as though she’s just said the single most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “i’m obviously not doing this just because i’m into sneaking around. this blows. i wish you’d fuckin’ out me.”

she relaxes against him, feeling a little silly in the face of blaine’s honesty. in all the time they’ve been together, he’s hardly given her a reason to doubt him. 

“look, i told you i’m all in, and i meant that, okay?” his thumb slides across her jaw and then his hand brushes her hair back behind her ear, sweeping the wet stands off her cheek. “this whole thing is weird and stupid but it’s awesome at the same time, because no matter what happens, i still get to do shit like this with you. and i’ll do anything to make these moments for us. i don’t care what it takes.”

“okay,” kennedy sighs finally, when his intensity makes her stomach start to squirm, “enough, i don’t know how much more i can take. it’s like you’re trying to make me fall head over heels for you.”

the joke is meant to cover up her genuine reaction, which is that she’s touched, blaine’s words prodding at a soft spot of vulnerability deep within her. fortunately, he takes the bait -- probably sensing her desperation for an out and being as wonderfully accommodating as always. a familiar smirk pulls across his face. “is it working?”

she playfully swats at his shoulder, ducking out of reach of the pillow he reflexively lifts to swing back at her. they grapple on the couch until blaine tumbles down onto his back, pulling her with him, and kennedy stretches out happily over his form, leaning down until they’re nose-to-nose. 

it’s embarrassing, how much she likes him. embarrassing how much he knows. but when he grins at her like that, she can’t do much more than shrug and sheepishly admit, “it kind of is,” a matching smile spread out blissfully on her own flushed face.

[bl597]

Could you write a Fred Weasley imagine where he likes the reader but she’s Ron’ best friend along with Harry’s and Hermione. And he doesn’t want that because if there were to break up, he would have to pick a side. And he doesn’t want to pick between his brother and best friend.

hello, dear! 💞💞 of course i can!! hope you enjoy it and please forgive me for taking so long to post it!!

warnings: hell yes I finally finished it!! it's agnsty but a little fluffy I guess, fem!reader but nothing that could change the story (you can replace it with male/gender neutral pronouns), reader's the same age as the golden trio, not revised bc im lazy, english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!! requests are closed for a while!

my masterlist ♡

Ron had noticed it all before even you knew it; the way you and Fred looked at each other longer than friends should look at each other. Or how a blush painted both your faces whenever you were in the same room. Or how you always flirted. Or how you wouldn't shut up about each other for one bloody second. Or just how in love you seemed to be.

He hated it, honestly. You were his best friend and Fred was his brother, it was weird to even think about it. Besides, he didn't want it all to begin because if there is a break up, he would be forced to pick a side, and that was definitely not something he wanted to do.

The Yule Ball was a few months away and Fred had already tried to talk to Ron about asking you to go with him, and Ron always tried to find an excuse to avoid his brother. How was he supposed to say he wouldn't help him without looking like an idiot?

“You should tell him” he heard Hermione's voice as she entered the common room with you, both of you giggling.

“I think I'll just wait a little” you quietly said, sitting down in front of Harry and Ron. “Hi, boys”

“Hello” said Harry looking up from his Charms homework and smiling at you and Mione, who smiled back at the boy.

“Hi” Ron pushed the parchment and books aside with a loud groan, cursing Snape and Potions with all his heart and then turned to you two with furrowed brows. “What are you two talking about?”

Hermione giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at you with a small smirk while placing a book on top of the table and opening it. “(Y/n) is waiting for Freddie to ask her to the Yule Ball” she replied in a playful tone, which made you slap her armp lightly.

“What?!” Ron exclaimed, ears as red as his hair.

Everyone looked at him with a censorship look and his face became even redder as he apologized to the other people on the common room. He then looked at you again, eyes wide in surprise.

Okay, he did know you and Fred had feelings for each other, but he didn't think any of you would actually act on it. Hadn't Fred give up after all those miserable attempts to ask for Ron's opinion on how he should ask you out? Of course not, Fred doesn't give up so easily, Ron thought, mentally facepalming himself with a silent groan.

“Why Fred? There are a lot of other cool boys in the castle” he said in an almost accusing tone, which mad you frown. “I bet a lot of boys had asked you out already, you should go with one of them”

“I mean,” you shyly started, an almost invisible blush painting your cheeks “Finch-Fletchley had asked me to go to the Ball with him, but I said I needed to think about it and then I'd tell him.”

“Bullshit” Hermione added chuckling “You only said that because you were waiting for a certain redheaded Gryffindor to ask you out.”

You blushed a deep shade of red at her commentary, playfully rolling your eyes and she smirked. “Oh, hush, Granger”

~

“What are we doing?” Harry confusedly asked, almost running so he could catch Ron, who was going somewhere with heavy footsteps, ears red like their robes.

“Trying to find Fred” he replied and Harry almost didn't hear him, the noise in the corridors making it almost impossible to hear him.

Harry didn't ask anything else, deciding it would be better to just silently follow his best friend and see what he was up to. They didn't stop walking until they reached the Great Hall, where the twins and Lee Jordan were excitedly talking about a new prank.

“Fred Weasley!” he shouted, getting the attention of some other students that were calmly eating, now looking at him with furrowed brows. Harry quietly apologized to them before following Ron to were his brothers and Lee were.

“Hello, brother dearest. What do I own the honour of your visit?” Fred asked with a cheeky smile, drinking his pumpkin juice while looking at Ron, waiting for him to speak.

“You come with me. Now.” he said rather coldly, which made Fred get confused. They quietly left the Great Hall, leaving Harry, George and Lee curiously following them with their eyes as they disappeared from the Hall.

The two redheads kept walking around the castle's corridors, trying to find a place that wasn't occupied by the students. Ron stopped walking when he saw an empty corridor, and he quickly dragged Fred inside it with him, turning around to the older boy with arched brows and a I-know-all-your-sins look.

“I know what you're planning, and that won't happen” Ron finally said, crossing his arms over his chest “You won't ask (Y/n) to go to the Ball with you, okay?”

Then it all clicked on Fred's mind, a smirk immediately forming itself on his lips. “Awn, is Ickle Ronniekins jealous?” he mocked his younger brother, even though there was a hint of jealousy on his own voice.

“What? No!” Ron exclaimed, a blush painting his face and neck, the tip of his ears feeling and looking like it was on fire. “She's my best friend. And that's the problem”

“So, you want to ask her out?” Fred asked quietly whilst crossing his arms over his chest, proping up on the wall next to him. “You know I fancy her for a while, mate”

“Bloody hell! I do not want to ask her out!” Ron groaned, looking at Fred like it was the most obvious thing in the world “I just don't want you to do it, because then you two would start dating and I don't want that because if you two break up, I have to pick up a side, and I don't want to lose my brother or my best friend!”

Ron finally exploded, saying what was bothering him for the past months, and it felt like all the weight on his shoulders magically disappeared. He never felt so light like right now, it was a fantastic feeling. Fred was looking at him in shock, eyes wide open at his brother's words.

“Oh” was all Fred could say, his shoes suddenly being the most interesting thing he could lay his eyes on at the moment.

“Yeah” Ron replied quietly, an awkward silence between the two Weasleys, none of them knowing what to do or say right now. Ron then cleared his throat, getting Fred's attention. “I should go back now, Harry has lots of practice to do for the next task. Hm, see you around”

~

“You did what?!” Hermione incredulously asked, homework soon forgotten. You shushed her, trying to make her remember you were in the library. “Sorry, sorry. But why did you do that?” she finished her question, talking quieter than before.

“I said I'll go to the Ball with Justin” you shrugged as if it was nothing, turning your attention back to the piece of parchment in front of you, dipping the quill on the ink and continuing your essay about the Bezoar and its properties.

“But why? Weren't you planning on asking Fred?”

“Yeah, but the Ball is in two weeks and he already has a partner. Besides, Justin is cute, I should give him a chance, maybe” you simply replied, still focused on your essay.

She looked at you with furrowed brows, but decided not to say anything else and do her homework instead.

~

The night was fantastic, the Great Hall was decorated with beautiful winter ornaments, and a baby blue was painting the walls and tables. The students were gracefully dancing with their partners and even the teachers were dancing too. It all looked magical and like it just came straight from a fairytale.

“May I have this dance, Miss (Y/l/n)?” asked Justin playfully, extending his hand for you to take it and you gladly did with a smile.

“Yes, you may, Mr Finch-Fletchley” you replied, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

This song was slower than the last one, which meant you'd have to be closer to each other. He shyly placed his hand on your hip after asking if you were comfortable with that, taking your right hand in his as you placed your left one on his shoulder. You then started slow dancing to the song on the background, the other couples doing the same on the Hall.

It was nice to spend time with him, you two surprisingly had a lot of things in common and the silence between you two wasn't awkward or weird, it was actually nice and comfortable, but something was missing.

He didn't make fun remarks about professor Snape's I-was-forced-to-be-here face, or jokes about Ron awkwardly dancing with Padma Patil, or about anything else. He was amazing, but he wasn't Fred.

You felt bad for accepting going out with Justin as a 'second option', but it was not like you were using him.. right? Fred was going with someone else, so you found other person to go with. It's fair, right? Besides, it could happen anyways; not everything in life happens the way we all want to, or else it would be really boring. Shrugging those thoughts out of your head, you focused on your partner again, moving your body with his as you two danced the night away.

It was around midnight when the students started leaving the Great Hall, and you were one of those students. You were planning on going to your dorm and sleep like a baby until tomorrow, but decided against it and went to the courtyard, where a very few people were.

The night breeze was cold and the snow was adorning the ground and shrubs around the courtyard. The sky was dark and the stars were brightly shining on it, the moonlight illuminating all the place. It was a very lovely night.

You then caught sight of a small bench away from the kissing teenagers and headed to it, brushing the snow out of it before sitting down. You were just enjoying the fresh air after being at the Ball for the last hours. It's not like you didn't like it, it was the total opposite of it, you loved the night and the Ball was perfect, you just needed some time away from the crowd.

“Shouldn't you be at your dorm?” you heard a very familiar voice from behind you, which made you jump a little, quickly looking at the voice's owner with a smile.

It was Fred. He was still wearing the clothes he wore earlier, his hair was covering half of his face, but it was still clear he was with a silly smile on his lips. That made you smile too.

“Shoudn't you be at your dorm?” you replied with his own question, raising a brow at his with a small smirk.

“Now you got me” he joked, sitting down next to you on the bench. “Didn't feel like sleeping yet. You?”

“Same” you quietly said, looking at the night sky. “So, where's Angelina?”

“At the Gryffindor common room, I guess” he replied after a little while, turning to look at you. “And where's Finch-Fletchley?” his voice carried a bit of annoyance at the mention of the Hufflepuff boy's name.

“Dancing with a Beauxbatons girl” you giggled as you remembered Justin clumsily dancing with a girl who was taller than him “He really has lots of energy and I was tired of dancing, so he kind of found another partner”

He nodded quietly, still focused on you. You flushed red when you noticed he had been watching you for a few minutes, suddenly feeling your cheeks burning under his deep stare.

“You know, we learnt how to read the stars in Astronomy” Fred spoke with a serious expression, and you turned all your attention to him, eager to hear the rest. It was no surprise you always loved Astronomy and were more than excited to learn more and more about it. “And these starts are telling me something, something really important”

You gasped, eyes widened as you attentively listened to every word that left his mouth. “What is it, Freddie?”

He inched closer to you, to the point where your noses were almost touching and your breath hitched, anxiously awaiting for his answer while trying your hardest not to blush even more because of how close his lips were to yours.

“They say you should kiss me.” he said with a cheeky smile, watching in amusement as your face became redder than his hair. “The stars never lie”

With a confident smirk, you closed the gap between you two, softly placing your lips on his in a short peck that soon became an actual kiss, your mouths moving in sync with each other, tongues gracefully dancing together inside your mouths as your hands flew to his face, cupping his cheeks in order to deepen the kiss.

You pulled apart minutes later, gasping for air. Both your faces were a shade of dark pink, both from the kiss and from the freezing breeze assaulting your bodies. You could still feel the ghost of Fred's soft lips hovering over yours, and it was a deliciously confusing feeling. The kiss made you feel warm inside and it lit things up on you that made you feel happy and light.

But at the same time, it just felt so wrong to do it. It was like a guilty pleasure, even though you didn't exactly know why you felt guilty. Maybe it was because you two already had partners and it would be a little unfair of your parts to do it? Or maybe was it because deep down you knew it just felt wrong because kissed your best friend's brother? You couldn't really point out what was it, but it left a weird feeling inside your chest.

“I'm sorry” you said in a weak voice, barely over a whisper. What exactly you were apologizing for you didn't know, but it felt like the right thing to do at the moment.

“I wanted to ask you to go to the Ball with me” he quietly admitted and you frowned at him.

“Why didn't you do it then?”

“I promised Ron I wouldn't” you opened your mouth to ask why, but he continued speaking “He said that if we start dating and then break up, he would have to choose between you and me, and he doesn't want that. I felt like it would be a little selfish of me if I asked you out after he told me that, so I came with Angelina.”

Oh. So that was why Ron was acting weird when Hermione mentioned you going out with Fred. You couldn't blame him for it, I mean, you would feel the same if one of your best friends started dating your brother or sister. It was weird to feel like this.

But, wasn't it a little bit selfish of Ron? Like, okay, he doesn't want to pick a side, but doesn't he want you to be happy? What if the relationship lasts for a long time? What if you don't break up and actually be happy with each other? You wouldn't know, because Ron was afraid of the 'what if they break up' part. It actually angered you a little bit.

“What if it goes fine, Fred?” your question finally broke the silence, voice soft and weak as it left your mouth. His eyes turned to you, his warm brown eyes examining every detail of your face. “We wouldn't know because we didn't even try.”

“We could try” he said, a genuine small smile on his lips as he took your hands in his, squeezing them softly in a reassuring way.

“Let's talk about this tomorrow, okay? It's already late” you replied quietly, giving his cheek a kiss before getting up. “Good night, Freddie.”

And then you headed to inside the castle to go to your common room, leaving Fred sitting there alone. You felt bad for leaving right now, but you just needed to think about it and sleep. You could talk about it in the morning.

~

taglist ♡

@bwitchd @fific7 @iamak20 @msmimimerton @grierpilots @idontknowwhatthisisfam @imseeinggred @kashishwrites @tsuukichan @mischiefsemimanaged @just-a-dreamer23

[littlewetbeast]

hi! i love your tumblr fics/writing in general… sending you so much love and appreciation! if you’re taking requests and if the mood takes you… do you think you could write something about dean’s lack of hunger? i’m obsessed with it as a concept, it’s fascinating! i don’t think we talk about it enough :( happy 4th july!

Note: timeline is a bit muddy - set roughly in kripke & gamble era, s4-s7. Warning: very vaguely NSFW, depressive and suicidal feelings Word count: 2k

It’s always the little things that end up getting to him, in the end. The server glances at his unfinished plate of food, and with a tilt of her head says, “Not to your liking, honey?” He stills. A tight sensation coils in his stomach. “I’m good,” Dean says, flashing her a smile, willing every muscle to relax. “Just had a big lunch.” He pats his stomach for show. She nods, leaving it at that, and brings him his bill. Dean reminds himself that there is no need to check around the diner to see if anyone heard it. He rubs his greasy fingers on the napkin and downs the rest of his beer, leaving an extra large tip with the odd hope that it will, somehow, quell the unease deep in his gut. It doesn’t. Then again, nothing ever does.

* * *

The reality is - he gets the urges. He gets the pangs of hunger and the dry-mouthed thirst; the deep aches for rest; the need for an extra long shower with his hands on himself, gritting his teeth to bite back the noise. Dean has basic desires and fleeting wants. All of them remain only surface-deep - they never soothe the gaping void in his chest, or the sensation that he is rotting from the inside out. Dean tried to explain it to Sam once. After seeing the way his mouth twisted with pity while he listened, he vowed never to bring it up again. He peers into his drink, his tongue darting out to wet his numbing lips while he drums his fingers absently against the glass. Dean’s not sure how many he’s had now, but he has enough muscle control that as he waves down the bartender for another one, he isn’t met with protest. It takes him far too long to realise someone has appeared on the stool next to him. Mind moving sluggishly, he realises that the stillness with which they arrived means they can only be one person. “Not seen you in a while,” Dean says, still looking into his drink, eyeing the sorry drop that’s left. “Hello, Dean,” Cas says, voice low. Dean knows for sure he’s had too much now, because the sound of him instantly sends a flush across his cheeks, one he can’t blame solely on the alcohol. He lifts the glass to pour the last drop onto his tongue, for something to do.

“How’s all that angel crap going?” Dean says as he sets the glass back down, not bothering to dampen the slur of his voice as the bartender brings him his next drink. “It’s fine,” Cas says, a little curtly. He shifts on the stool, half-turning against him. “Sam wondered where you’d gone.” Dean snorts and takes another sip of his drink. “He sent a babysitter.” “He’s been worried about you,” Cas says. Dean hums, licking his lips again. “I’m fine, Cas,” he says. He turns towards him, roaming his eyes across him lazily, then grins, big and toothy. “I’m wonderful. Peachy. Having a swell ol’ time.” As if to prove it, he lifts the glass up with a jerk, inadvertently sloshing some of the liquid onto his fingers. He swears and puts it down on the napkin, sloppily licking his fingers. Dean only barely has enough self-control to stop himself from making a sensual show of it.

Cas doesn’t say anything. Dean can feel the weight of his gaze, but he now feels unable to look at him. After a moment, he hears Cas call the bartender over. “Whatever he’s having, please,” he says.

Dean feels himself sink into the seat, releasing tension in his body he hadn’t even known was there. As Cas receives his drink and lifts it to his lips, Dean watches. He’s too drunk now to be able to look away; the willpower it takes is already challenging while sober. Cas maintains eye contact as he takes a sip, and something in his eyes keeps Dean’s gaze locked to him. The urges, as always, are there - even if they are inhabiting a dead man.

He’s starting to feel the latent effects of the previous drinks now, buzzing underneath the surface of his skin. Dean takes another long sip, relishing the burn of it at the back of the throat, and Cas doesn’t say anything more. He remains a warm, solid form next to him as they drink. None of them push each other further, and Dean is grateful for it. By the time the glass is empty, the full effects of the alcohol is working its way through his body, sending the room into a hazy spin, with Cas being the only steady thing left. Dean vaguely registers being taken out of the bar, feeling the bite of the night air on his skin, cooling the warmth on his cheeks.

“I’m not really hungry, Cas,” Dean says, eventually, as he begins to register his feet moving under him. “You’re not making any sense,” Cas says, his breath hot in his ear. Dean desperately wants to lean into it. He realises now that he’s been talking for a while.

“I told you,” Dean says, “I’m not really hungry.” He laughs, a sharp bark that punctures the still midnight air. “You’re upset because you’re not hungry,” Cas says slowly. Dean snorts inelegantly. “Dude,” he says, “I’m upset because you fucked up.” He disentangles himself from Cas from a second, and realises swiftly his mistake as he wobbles around, waving his arm at something to grab at. Eventually, his arm is clasped by Cas, bringing them together again. Dean makes a half-hearted attempt to separate himself from him, but there is nothing solid around to steady him except for Cas. He feels giddy now, inane laughter bubbling up from his chest. “I’m not all here, man,” Dean says. “There’s something missing.” A bizarre thought occurs to him. “I’m not soulless, am I?” “No, Dean,” Cas says. Dean shakes his head. “You angels ever get that feeling where,” he snaps his fingers, clumsily, “you keep worrying you’ve left the oven on?” “No,” Cas says. “Well, it’s like that,” Dean says, swinging his finger emphatically. “You did that. Except it was me. I was the oven.” They shuffle along quietly for a moment, Dean slumped into Cas, pulling back every urge to nuzzle into his neck. “I’m very confused by this metaphor,” Cas says eventually. “Yeah, ‘cause you’re the one who left it on,” Dean says, as if explaining to a toddler. “I see,” Cas says, resignation laced in his voice.

This time, Dean can’t help but nuzzle into him. “I should be pissed at you, you know,” Dean says into his ear.

Cas doesn’t say anything, seemingly focused entirely now on keeping Dean upright, urging him to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Dean wonders if Cas ever expected himself to be abandoning his heavenly missions in favour of dragging a drunk man home. “No,” Cas says. Dean realises he’s saying everything out loud, and snaps his mouth shut. “Hey,” Dean says, deliberately this time. “Why aren’t you, uh,” he frowns, and makes his one free hand flap like a bird, “you know, just flying me back?” “Not sure how the effects would be on someone this inebriated,” Cas says. “Keys, Dean.” “We should go to Hawaii or something. Get a couple of drinks there,” Dean says. “Dean,” Cas repeats firmly. “The motel keys.” Then he starts patting Dean’s jacket down, and Dean sways in place, focused now entirely on keeping his head cool while Cas’ hands move all over him. He pulls the keys from his jean pocket, his hand far too close to Dean’s crotch for his liking, and they jingle as Cas unlocks the room. The giddiness deflates from Dean’s chest as he remembers, suddenly, why he’s here. How he had left Sam with a mumbled excuse, booked a room for just himself, because he could no longer bear how the hollowness had grown to a gaping hole in his chest; or how he had the overwhelming sensation of being nothing but a puppet, an empty vessel that was simply being manouvered into doing things he was supposed to. Drinking, sleeping, eating, hunting, teasing Sammy, flirting with girls - all things he had done before spending a lifetime in hell. He does all the same things, but they are no longer the same. This time, Dean Winchester is no longer there. He died a long time ago. “Dean?” He looks up, and realises he’s gone still in the doorway, and the image focuses slowly in his eyes. Cas is watching him with his brows furrowed together, his mouth set in a worried line. Dean feels like he should laugh again, but there is nothing left in him now but what remains at the core of him - a deep, aching nothingness. Dean swings the door shut behind him, and Cas reaches out to him as he attempts to stand on his own two wobbly feet. Smiling thinly, Dean says, “I’m all wrong.” With effort, he tugs the jacket off. It feels like it’s wound tightly around every limb, refusing to let go, but eventually he manages to peel it off. “You left a piece of me down there in the pit,” Dean says, and huffs a dry, humourless laugh. “You left the damn oven on.” For a moment, Cas says nothing. He hovers a half-step close to him, and they stand quietly while Dean’s breaths get thick and raspy, his hands trembling by his sides. “You gotta fix this shit,” he bites out, and he feels his cheeks have turned hot and wet. Dean braves the journey to the bed, with Cas’ hands securing him by his side, and he slumps down heavily on it. “You gotta,” he presses the palms of his hands into his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath, “You gotta fix this, Cas.”

He breathes into his hands, both covering his face, and he draws in a breath, then another, his whole body trembling. “I can’t do it anymore,” he says, his voice small, breaking at the end. “I can’t go on anymore, Cas.”

Dean’s hands are gripped by something warm and soft. Cas’ hands are pulling them gently away from his face, and placing them on his knees. He doesn’t make a move as Cas tenderly brushes away the tears streaking down his cheeks. He doesn’t protest as he cups his face. Distantly, he wonders if anyone has ever touched him like this, and comes up short. Cas is just inches from him, his eyes watching him like he wants nothing more than to draw out every bit of pain and ache Dean has ever experienced. Dean is gripped by the notion that he could lean forward and kiss Cas right now. It’s not the first time he’s thought it, but it’s the first time he’s let himself seriously consider it. “You need to get some sleep, Dean,” Cas says. His voice is barely a whisper off his lips.

Dean feels Cas’ hand over his forehead, and for a brief moment, he wonders if it is normal for angels to have a touch that is so unbearably tender, as if they can pour love into their skin. He feels as if something warm has filled his chest, the dry ache smoothed away, the sensation of something like peace. For one insane moment, he wants to tell Cas he loves him. He doesn’t.

Instead, he sleeps.

* * *

When Dean awakes the next morning, he thinks for the briefest of seconds that he can see a dip in the mattress, fresh from the weight of a body. As he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and shakes himself awake, he remembers that he is alone.

Dean reaches out for his phone, clumsily plugs it into his charger and waits impatiently for the screen to finally light up in a glow. He calls Sam, who has left five increasingly panicked voice messages on his phone. He ribs him mercilessly for it - What are you, an old man? Send a text like everyone else! - and then lets him know his phone had died over the night. There, nothing to be worried about.

The events of the past day feel foggy, courtesy of the hangover. Despite that, when Dean looks up in the bathroom mirror, he finds himself looking refreshed. He feels lighter than he has in years. Later, he tells Sam that he clearly needs to take more vacations away from his griping, and receives a half-hearted punch to his shoulder. "I prayed to Cas, you know," Sam says, looking at his hands. "He must be busy. Didn't answer." Dean huffs, sipping his coffee. "God, you're such a drama queen. Can't survive without your big brother for one day." "Shut up, jerk." "Bitch." Sam sends him a look, but he doesn't say more - he changes the topic, and that's that. Dean drinks his coffee as he half-listens to Sam filling him in on a new case, and he tries to recall when he last saw Cas. He wonders, briefly, if he should pray to him. His stomach flutters traitorously at the thought, and Dean swallows thickly, deciding against it.

He swirls around the remaining coffee in his cup, rubbing his chest absently, and wonders at the ache that has settled there now. Distantly, he reaches for the broken pieces of an old memory, a lingering sensation of a warm palm to his forehead.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Reggie//i can't let you go now that i got it

Request: your last reggie mantle imagine was soooooo cute it was.... BIG FAV i'm still grinning! could you please do one where reader and reggie have been best friends their whole lives? she's super protective and sweet to him and like? she's been in love for years but has been hiding it well?? she gets him to come away with her to college because 'screw this town' and they live together? but eventually she starts going on dates and it makes him realize he's in love with her too?? mutual love confession

hey! so before you go any further trigger warning mentions of abuse, specifically around reggie and his dad. it’s not in detail but it is mentioned a few times so don’t read if that upsets you. the last thing i want you to be is sad. i hope you all have a good day anyway, whether you’re reading this or not! (title is from Børns ‘electric love’)

- For 18 years 

- Reggie Mantle has been the only constant in your life 

- Even when you were babies he was there 

- Your mom’s sat beside each other in baby class, cooing and awing over each other’s kids

- All while 6 month old you stole 6 month old Reggie’s toy

- And then he cried so hard he vomited on not only himself but you as well 

- Which then made you cry even louder 

- And then your mom’s were asked to leave 

- So instead

- It became a weekly thing for your mom to take you to The Mantle’s 

- While her and Mrs Mantle gossiped and drank tea 

- You and Reggie would hit each other with various stuffed toys. 

- As you got older 

- The weekly visits turned into daily ones 

- Especially when you moved three houses away from him

- You and Reggie started to see each other more than your own parents did

- Your mom still went over once a week

- But when she arrived you were always usually there

- Either stood in the kitchen getting a snack 

- Or lying on Reggie’s bed watching an awful movie he just ‘had to show you’ 

- They usually involved a hybrid of two animals

- Sometimes mythical, sometimes not 

- But in all of them they were usually taking over the world

- They also always had the same four actors in

- But despite how much you protested 

- ‘reggie? are you being serious? we watched this one last time.’ 

- ‘no, we watched molemaid last time. this is medusamaid. they’re completely different’ 

- ‘oh, sorry. my mistake’

- You actually secretly loved them 

- Because they made him happy

- You would watch in awe as he laughed at stupid jokes 

- And how his eyes would always light up at a particularly gruesome part, no matter how badly CGI’d it was

- You also listened to the countless of theories as to how ‘hurrik9’ is clearly the prequel to ‘hellhounds’ because ‘they’ve got the same main character! it doesn’t matter if they’re not played by the same person. y/n, they’ve got the same name.’ 

- You also listened to him complain about the inconsistencies between ‘werewombats 1’ and ‘werewombats 2’

- ‘no matter how much the director stands by the decision to make them turn on each other, despite the first film clearly stating that that’s the last thing they’d do.’ 

- But the thing you loved the most about it 

- Was that he was only ever this way with you

- You’d been sworn to secrecy when you walked in on him watching ‘dinocano vs uniquake’ 

- And you promised never to tell anyone about his secret passion

- Or the fact that he had a stack of notebooks filled with plots and mini scripts for his own films. 

- Reggie may have gotten popular

- But to you, he’s still the same Reggie you’ve always known.

- Whose scared of clowns but won’t admit it

- And cried when watching Edward Scissorhands but if anybody asks it was you

- And who hates hot chocolate, but its the only thing he’ll drink when he’s sick 

- He also only eats pink marshmallows in months ending in R

- And white ones every other month 

- But in December he has both...because its Christmas.

- Yeah, you and Reggie are best friends 

- Always have been, always will

- But it doesn’t stop you from wanting more.

- It doesn’t stop the longing looks when you think no one is watching 

- Or the lingering touches whenever he hugs you

- It doesn’t stop your heartbeat picking up whenever he walks into a room

- Or how you forget how to breathe whenever he looks at you

- You look forward to everyday, even if you have a pop quiz or homework you only remembered the night before

- Because he’s going to be there to make you smile

- Even if he isn’t doing it on purpose 

- You look forward to the countless of texts he sends

- No matter how weird or ridiculous 

- Like when he text you at half three in the morning to ask if birds were real because somebody told him they weren’t.

- You then got a text straight afterwards telling you that it would be great idea for a plot

- And you still answer every single one

- No matter how stupid they are 

- It’s really a wonder how you get any sleep with your phone being on loud all the time

- But it’s worth it

- Especially when you get texts like 

- ‘he’s done it again’ 

- Reggie’s relationship with his father complicated to say the least

- You remember when you were younger they used to be best friends 

- Reggie idolized him 

- And you’d have conversations in Reggie’s tree house, about how much he wanted to be just like his dad when he grew up

- But when he did grow up

- And started to develop a personality that didn’t just revolve around football 

- Reggie no longer wanted to be just like his dad 

- He wanted to be the furthest thing from him

- The first time it happened 

- Reggie tried his hardest to hide it from you 

- And for the first time in 8 years 

- You went two days without seeing each other 

- On the third day though 

- You’d had enough 

- So you went round to see him 

- But when you asked his mom if he was in 

- She lied and told you he had just gone out 

- Even though you could clearly see him trying and failing to hide on the stairs

- So you did what any normal friend would do 

- You climbed through his bedroom window 

- With about as much grace and steal as you could muster 

- Which surprisingly, wasn’t a lot

- And you gave him the fright of his life 

- ‘what the hell are you doing here?’ 

- ‘you’re avoiding me’ 

- ‘i’m not. i’ve just been...busy’ 

- ‘doing what? fighting?’ 

- ‘what?’

- ‘your eye’ 

- ‘oh yeah...that’ 

- That was when you knew something was wrong 

- You’ve known Reggie your entire laugh 

- And you know the three things he’ll always boast about 

- Girls, football and fighting 

- ‘what happened?’ 

- When he told you 

- You couldn’t believe what he was saying 

- You wanted to find Marty Mantle and give him a black eye...see how he likes it 

- But Reggie begged you not to do or say anything 

- ‘it’ll only make it worse’ 

- ‘but its wrong. he should be locked up’

- ‘who’s going to believe me?’ 

- ‘me’ 

- ‘see...it was only one time anyway’ 

- So you agreed, reluctantly 

- And you so wanted to believe it

- But then a few weeks later he turned up to school with a bust lip

- A month after that another bruise around his eye that he tried to hide behind sunglasses 

- And by the time graduation rolled around 

- Both of you had lost count of the sunglasses and excuses 

- For three years he’d been trapped in a house with a father who thought hitting was the same as love 

- And a mother who pretended it didn’t happen 

- But now college was round the corner and that meant a chance for both of you

- Or at least thats what you thought

- ‘you didn’t get in?’ 

- ‘i didn’t get in.’ 

- ‘to any of them?’ 

- ‘nope’

- ‘reggi-’

- ‘it’s fine. my dad has always wanted me to work for him. i guess this will make him happy. even if i am the cleaner’ 

- ‘reg-’ 

- ‘please go’

- That summer was the longest one of your life 

- It was even longer that the time Reggie had to get his appendix out and so you couldn’t hang out for a 3 weeks.

- For two and a half months 

- You heard nothing from Reggie 

- You text, called, DM’d and even E-mailed

- But you got nothing 

- You went round at all times of the day to try and talk to him

- And every time Mrs Mantle answered and told you he was either out or busy

- Doing homework was her favourite excuse

- And Reggie has only ever done homework when you were doing the majority of it 

- You even tried climbing in through his window again 

- But he locked it 

- So you watched every morning as he dragged himself into his dad’s car

- Wearing a stiff suit and a miserable expression 

- No matter how hard you tried to get to him before the left 

- How fast you ran or how early you got to his house

- They were always long gone before you managed to get anywhere close to him

- You missed the midnight texts about nothing 

- You missed his stupid jokes 

- You missed watching an entire room light up whenever he walked in

- You missed the way he made you feel, even if he was unaware of it 

- You even missed watching his god-awful movies 

- You just missed him 

- And when he missed your leaving party 

- That was the final straw

- At 7am the next morning 

- You shoved the last of your boxes in the back of your car 

- Said goodbye to your parents 

- And drove away

- Three houses down the street 

- Making sure your parents had gone back inside before stopping 

- You sat outside for a few minutes 

- Trying to think of what to do or say 

- You knew his mom would answer the door

- And that you’d get the same excuses 

- You also knew from the past few experiences that his window would still be locked 

- So you threw rocks at his bedroom window in the hopes that when he’d check to see what it was, he’d leave it unlocked 

- And he did! 

- You watched from behind a bush as he hung his head out the window to look around

- His brow furrowed and hair messy

- Clearly he’d just woke up

- You couldn’t help the smile twitching at your lips 

- You’d missed that face 

- Climbing the window was a lot harder than it used to be 

- Mr Mantle had taken the ladders away 

- Another reason as to why he sucked

- But you managed eventually 

- And you almost died only twice 

- Which is good 

- It’s better than three 

- You landed on the carpet with a loud thud that made him jump half way across the room

- ‘y/n. what the hell are you doing here?’

- ‘it’s moving day. and i must say i’m very disappointed at the lack of preparation on your part. have you even started packing yet?’

- ‘it’s not funny y/n’

- ‘i know. do you see me laughing?’

- ‘i’m being serious y/n. just leave’ 

- ‘no’ 

- ‘what?’

- ‘the last time you told me to leave, i listened and i didn’t see you for two months, so no’ 

- ‘what about college’ 

- ‘what about it?’ 

- ‘it starts in three days’ 

- ‘i know. and if we stand here any longer we’re going to miss it. so get packed and lets go. it’s a nine hour drive and i’m not doing all of that alone’ 

- ‘you know i can’t go’ 

- ‘says who?’ 

- ‘my dad, every single college i applied for and me’ 

- ‘listen to me reggie. you are my best friend, you have been since we were babies. there’s not a part of my life you haven’t been in. do you really think that would stop at college?’ 

- ‘we didn’t spend the summer together’ 

- ‘and it was the worst summer of my life’ 

- ‘same...but that might have been because i was spending 12 hours a day in an office’ 

- ‘rude. but i’ll take it!’ 

- ‘i did miss you though. it was weird not seeing your face everyday’ 

- That makes your cheeks heat up and you have to force the flutter in your chest to go away

- ‘it always cheers me up’ 

- There it goes again and you want to claw at your chest until it’s no longer there 

- Hope is a terrible thing to have when you’ve been in love with your best friend for your entire life

- ‘you always cheer me up’ 

- Oh dear...

- ‘i love you...a-as a friend. this summer has been the longest and most depressing for both of us. i don’t want to live the rest of my life like that. i need you reggie. so please pack your bags, say screw you to your dad and to this town and lets go’ 

- ‘what about money? where am i going to live?’ 

- ‘we’ll figure that out on the way there. just hurry up’ 

- And he did 

- You and Reggie threw the majority of his belongings into any bag you could find

- He took all the money he’d been saving out of the poorly disguised fake plant

- And wrote a nice little note for his parents 

- You also may have added a few choice words to it 

- But what Reggie doesn’t know won’t hurt him 

- And the two of you climbed into your car and never looked back

- The 9 hour car ride was the most fun you’ve ever had 

- It was like you were trying to fit the entire summer you’d lost into those few hours 

- It was filled with off key singing 

- And stories of your summer 

- His favourite being about Archie being tricked into going skinny dipping by himself

- You laughed loudly like nothing had happened 

- And cried silently because everything had 

- Thankfully when you arrived on campus, it was already night 

- So you managed to sneak Reggie into your room

- And when you nervously told your roommate 

- She just grinned at you

- ‘it’s fine, my boyfriend will probably be staying over a lot too’ 

- ‘oh, he’s not my boyfriend’ 

- ‘we’re not together’ 

- ‘...okay’ 

- She said with a knowing smile and you and Reggie shared a look

- And a year filled with adventures started

- Reggie got a job as a bartender with a little help from Veronica 

- And you started your classes 

- But nothing is ever easy 

- At least not when it involves you or Reggie 

- It turns out hiding a whole human is a lot more difficult that you anticipated. 

- It involves Reggie squeezing into your closet 

- And a whole team of people to get him to and from the showers 

- But it was also difficult for another reason

- Because it was easy to hide your feelings from him when you lived in separate house 

- But now you’re sharing a room

- And a bed 

- And every time he would wrap his arms around you 

- And pull in for a half asleep cuddle 

- You’d forget how to breathe 

- You’ve never been more excited to wake up

- Because he’d be all messy hair and parted lips with just a little bit of drool coming out of them that it would be cute instead of gross 

- And when he said good morning in the same deep, tired voice 

- You wanted to live in that feeling forever 

- But then 2nd year rolled around and everything changed 

- It all started when you moved into your own apartment 

- You knew you had to but there was a part of you that hoped you could keep everything the same 

- You found a tiny, two bedroom flat that you could both just about afford 

- Reggie was so happy to have his own room

- ‘i won’t have to sleep next to you and your freezing cold feet anymore’ 

- ‘i’ll just sneak into your bed when your fast asleep and put them on you then instead’ 

- ‘i thought we were supposed to be friends’ 

- It took a few weeks to get used to an empty bed 

- But eventually you started to sleep properly 

- And it was quite nice to have your own space again

- It meant you could study without having to listen to ‘nighthawk nightmare’ 

- Honestly, you don’t really know what the plot of that one is 

- But you’ve still seen it 7 times 

- You may be in love with him but it doesn’t mean he can’t be annoying sometimes 

- And you were happy with going back to admiring from afar

- Your heart can’t get broken that way

- In fact a small part of you thought he felt the same way 

- That one glimmer of hope you felt a year ago

- Came back all of sudden 

- And soon 

- You became aware of the lingering touches 

- And the gifts he’d buy you just because 

- He also asked what you wanted to watch for your movie night 

- And he’s never, ever done that unless you were sad or sick

- And even then, when you broke your arm a few years ago, he chose the film

- The way he looked at you suddenly felt different 

- You would feel him staring, but when you would check he would always be scrolling through his phone 

- And you’re sure the was a little bit of flirtiness in his tone whenever he spoke to you 

- But just because you think you can’t be burnt if you stand far enough away from the fire 

- Doesn’t mean that the sparks can’t jump out and get you anyway 

- Because all of sudden Reggie started bringing girls home 

- And every time you saw a t-shirt that wasn’t yours on the sofa 

- Or a pair of shoes discarded by the door

- You felt yourself die a little

- After a few weeks of this 

- Something in you snapped

- You’d spent the majority of your life pining after some boy who saw you as nothing more than a friend 

- And sometimes a small part of you thought as just an escape route

- So you moped for a few weeks before deciding it was finally time to move on

- Reggie would only ever see you as a friend 

- And that’s fine 

- The only way to move on, is to move on. 

- So you waited for the right guy to move on with 

- And there were a few 

- But none of them were right 

- Until you met Daniel 

- Sweet Daniel with curly brown hair and dimples

- Who studied history 

- And spent his days sitting in the coffee shop on campus

- For a few weeks the two of you spent your short interactions stealing glances and exchanging shy smiles 

- That evolved to small talk with flirty undertones

- Until finally he asked you out 

- And you said yes 

- And you kept saying yes to each date afterwards 

- They were fun too

- He’d take you to museum's and on picnics and at night he’d pick you up and you’d go star gazing 

- He would make you laugh when he’d tell you a joke 

- And make you blush when he’s whisper in your ear while staring up at the sky 

- But he wasn’t him

- And that killed you

- It doesn’t matter how many time he takes you to watch some unknown indie film thats supposed to be the greatest thing ever made

- It has nothing on standing outside the only cinema in town that’s showing ‘sharkcano vs tigerana’ in the freezing cold with Reggie wearing an absolutely ridiculous costumes that Reggie threw together last minute and somehow roped you into wearing too.

- But what hurt even more was watching how Reggie acted around you when you and Daniel started dating 

- He looked hurt whenever he saw the two of you together 

- And you would watch him roll his eyes whenever you mentioned him 

- Until eventually he would just avoid you all together 

- Do you know how hard it is to avoid someone when you’re living in the same 2 bedroom flat that barely gives two foot to yourself? 

- It’s hard 

- But Reggie finds a way 

- Eventually you’re more roommates than friends 

- And you really don’t know how much more you can take 

- You feel like you’re about to break 

- And Daniel can see that too

- So on Friday night he invites you to go drinking with him and his friends instead of staying in and moping 

- ‘bye, i’m going out’ 

- ‘wait’ 

- The speed of which he runs from his room and into the living room where your stood, startles you to say the least 

- ‘what?’

- ‘don’t go out with him.’ 

- ‘why not? what ever george has told you about is a lie. george does that. he once told a bunch of people that you streaked in an old people’s home and almost killed his grandmother’ 

- ‘because he isn’t me’ 

- You’ve dreamt of those words 

- Built them up in your head for years 

- But in all of your daydreams, there’s never been a scenario like this one 

- Not one where you’re about to leave to go on a date with another guy 

- ‘reggie? what are you talking about?’ 

- You need to make sure he’s saying what you think he’s saying 

- Because you can feel yourself hoping again

- And you know if he doesn’t mean what you want him to

- You don’t think you’ll be able to recover

- ‘i love you y/n. you’re my best friend, you always have been, you always will be and i love you.’ 

- ‘reg-’ 

- ‘please tell me you feel the same way’ 

- ‘i-’ 

- In your head you had a full oscar worthy speech planned out just in case this ever happened 

- But now you’re here in the moment. 

- You have no idea what to say

- ‘it doesn’t matter. just leave’ 

- ‘no’ 

- ‘what?’ 

- ‘do you really think i’m going to walk away from you after that? when have i ever walked away from you?’ 

- ‘i-no’

- ‘i love you too by the way. if you care’ 

- ‘shut up...wait really?’ 

- ‘yes i do. i’ve loved you for as long as i can remember so are you going to just stand there or are you going to kiss me?’ 

- ‘i’m definitely going to kiss you’ 

- ‘good’ 

- And he does 

- He’s standing in front of you before you can catch your breath

- His hands reach up to cup your cheeks 

- His lips part as he stares down at you 

- And you’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he’s looking at you

- Like you’re everything good and light in the universe 

- And like he’s also been waiting just as long for this moment 

- Maybe he has 

- Maybe he’s been waiting all his life for this 

- He just didn’t know 

- You feel whatever breath you had left leave your lungs

- His lips are soft against yours, but he gets his point across 

- And you’ve never been happier 

- All the heartache and tears 

- The laughter and stupid jokes 

- The 3am texts 

- The constant worrying 

- The early mornings and late nights 

- The damage to limbs from trying to fit in tiny closets

- And the scrapes on your ankles and bruising on your legs from crawling through his bedroom window 

- They’re all worth it

- ‘are you still going on your date?’ 

- ‘what do you think?’ 

- ‘good. because they’ve just released werewombats 3’

[stepintomyvoid]

A Deeper Understanding [Newt Scamander x reader]

A/N: Yes this is me, trying fanfiction again. I haven’t written a single word in like 3 years or sth? But whateveeeer I’ve been really inspired by the Harry Potter Universe again, so here we go. Also please excuse any grammatical errors! English is only my second language, so please be gentle haha! But if you like this stuff, please please tell me! I’m super anxious about my writing, but I will of course take constructive criticism.

Warnings: not really anything, it’s fluffy and a bit angsty, mention of death

Word Count: 2721

“I wonder, Mr Scamander, is that really the fitting pair of shoes for those trousers?”, you smirked, carrying a large bucket of feed for the mooncalves. The golden haired man looked up, following your body as you walked past him. He was crouched down, tying his oak-brown leather shoes. The right corner of his mouth twitched a bit, almost indicating a smile. But he stayed silent, keeping his amusement to himself.

His silence jabbed your mood a bit but you shrugged it off. You had helped him for a few months now, assisting in caring for his beautiful creatures. To you, it felt like years. But your relationship went back even farther. Your first time meeting the shy Newt Scamander was your first year in Hogwarts. You, a muggle-born witch, were still adjusting to the new wizard world upon you. You had just been sorted into your Hogwarts House the day before and walked around the castle, aimlessly, just taking it all in. When you bumped into a Hufflepuff sitting cross-legged on the floor with some small creature in his hands. That’s when you met and forgot again. He was a little too awkward, you were a little too lost. It was just a random encounter and nothing came out of it. You didn’t even know his name back then.

Years later, you saw a certain Erumpent, an indeed breathtaking rhinceros which looked like it had actual lava in his horn, roaming around in Central Park in New York, the location of your Christmas vacation. This was your second encounter. Upon seeing this giant creature galopp through the winterly landscape, you left immediately; only years later you learned that the one and only Newt Scamander was there too. Not only that, he was responsible for it. All of your friends called you insane and laughed your encounter off like it never happened.

You actually met the young Mr Scamander in one of his readings about Magical Creatures in London, he was talking about Thestrals. He described these skinny black horses with skeletal bodies as elegant and gentle, he said they were calm but at the same time so very powerful. How he talked about every creature in the same loving way fascinated you from the beginning.

“But their beauty can only be seen by very view”, he said. He just sat on a small chair in front of a small crowd in a library. Not a lot of people were interested in his liberal views. But you adored him. The way the golden sunlight, broken by the dirty window glass, shined on his left side, the few times he actually looked up from the floor and a passionate smile grew on his face, you couldn’t stop listening. “You see, only those who saw death can see a Thestral. But many mistake this description for its literal definition. To see a Thestral, one needs to-“

You raised your hand. The brown-haired curls looked up. Almost startled by your action, he exclaimed a “yes?”. “One needs to have a deeper understanding of death, rather than just being a witness.” You blushed immediately as the small crowd turned around to look at you. “Right?”, you added shyly. He nodded.

After the reading, Newt stood up immediately, almost fleeing the building. You ran after him. “Uhm, Mr Scamander! Mr Scamander! I, uh...”, you called. He stopped to turn around. “Yes, can I help you?”, he asked politely, his gaze on the ground. He shortly looked up to study your expression. “I know, this must seem...strange. But I just wanted to apologize for interrupting your reading. I’m sorry if that seemed impolite”, you said with a hopeful smile.

“Oh”, he paused. “No, don’t worry. I’m just not... uh, used to people knowing or even caring about Thestrals. Most of them find them rather grim, I believe”, he smiled, looking into your eyes again for a few seconds. His blue eyes shimmered hazel in the afternoon sun. “I must excuse myself. I have to feed the mooncalves, I wish you a nice day”, he nodded and was on the verge on turning around again, you reached out, almost gripping his coat to stop him. “Mr Scamander, if I may, would I be able to help you with that? You don’t have to say yes, I just...I would love to learn more. One can only read so much in books”, you chuckled. He turned to you again, looking shocked again.

“Don’t feel obligated”, you added. “You are most welcome to. I can always use some help. Excuse my hesitation, this has never happened to me before”, he laughed, “if you follow me?”

And that’s how you found yourself visiting Newt Scamanders suitcase every day since then. You were a good team. And once he opened up to you more, joked around every now and then, you felt more comfortable around him as well. But still, there was always this thick wall between you emotionally. Neither one of you shared too many personal memories with each other. You enjoyed each other’s company dearly, you did. But something always kept you from being closer. Even though, from time to time, there were moments where the freckled man could make your heart jump like you’ve never felt before.

“Need help with that?” you asked one day as Newt was brewing a potion to treat the stomach ache of one of the Diricawls. You stood behind him, your hands on his shoulders, so you could look over him on your tip-toes. He turned his head a bit so he could see your face in the corner of his eyes, he blushed. “I’m good”, he said like a whisper. “Ugh, shut up and let me help you”, you scoffed and pulled out your wand. A few circular swings with your wand and the brown-ish fluid in the dark kettle started bubbling softly. “There you go, sweetie”, you said and patted his shoulder blades roughly. “No one is better at potions than you, Y/N”, he grinned slightly as he turned around to face you, his hands on the table behind him. “I know”, you winked at him. He broke the eye contact, his red-brown locks fell into his face, failing to hide his blushing cheeks. There it was again, that feeling. His shyness when you called him sweetie or honey drove you crazy. Officially you might have been completely platonic but his hidden smirks and chuckles made your insides burst.

 And then, one fateful Decembre evening, everything changed.

 “Y/N? You mind doing me a favour? You can say no of course... but... I’d... I’d love to have you there”, he smiled, his eyes darker than usual. You were just finishing up and about to leave but him asking you with this kind expression was a turn of events. “Uh, sure. What do you need me to do?”

Only about twenty minutes later you found yourself standing on the edge of a small lake surrounded by a pine forest at almost midnight. It was a bit chilly even for you, you lifted your shoulders, covering your face in your scarf. “Are you cold?”, Newt asked kneeling on the edge of the water, his wand in his hand, a worrying look on his face. He looked so pale in the blue light. “It’s alright”, you smiled at him. “Mr Scamander, if I may ask, what exactly are we doing here?”, you crossed your arms looking around. The forest was dark and cold, it looked utterly uninviting. Before you, the light blue lake reflected the moonlight and made for a calm atmosphere. It was almost completely silent. Your breath was visible in front of you and in that moment you wished, you had worn a thicker jumper.

“Looking for Kelpies, of course, Ms Y/L/N.”

“Of course”, you scoffed to yourself. Your gaze wandered across the water, it was quite peaceful.

“Couldn’t this wait `til the morning?”, you asked stepping closer to the lake.

“Sadly, no”, he then went on a rant on how this time was very important to get a good look at a Kelpie because they’re the friendliest when the sea is the coldest. You tried to distract yourself from the freezing cold by listening closely. But as you looked over to the other side of the lake, you made out a black creature drinking in the lake. Your eyes widened. A slender four-legged creature with a slim neck. It seemed, as if the creature could sense your staring and its head shot up, looking directly at you. Like a startled deer, you couldn’t look away. It was a Thestral.

“Newt!”, you whispered, keeping your eyes locked on the horse-like creature. “Newt!”, you said again with a bit more intensity. You couldn’t see but he turned around to look at you, saw your mesmerized face and looked into the same direction. “What is it? Did you see something?”, he asked, not moving a muscle. “It’s a... a Thestral, Newt. I can’t believe it. It’s so... beautiful”, you said slowly, still not blinking. The black skeleton moved around a bit, its coat shimmering blue in the night.

“What?”, Newt asked. He slowly stood up. He looked back and forth a few times. “Y/N?”, he said with a soft voice.

“Newt, don’t move! Look at it, it’s majestic”, you said with a wide smile. “Y/N-“, he tried again. “What is it? It’s right over there. Can’t you see it?”, you said with a hushed voice as to not spook the creature.

“No, actually, I can’t... see it”, Newt admitted. As you looked at him for the first time in minutes, you realized, he was a lot closer than you thought. Slowly you realized what this meant. Your smile faded. Newt had a painful expression on his face, covering it up with a weak smile to make you feel better. Of course, only you could see the Thestral. Because only you had witnessed death. Flashes of memories flooded your brain. You looked down brushing your hand through your hair.

“I’m sorry, Y/N”, he said as if he thought this would make it better. For the first time, his eyes never left you. “It was my Mum”, you said huskily, “she uh... passed, twelve years ago.”

Tears started clouding your vision as more and more memories came back again. You witnessed your Mum’s death. But how it happened was so horrible that you could not dare to speak it out loud.

Newt came another step closer and lightly squeezed your arm in comfort. He wanted to make it all ok again. Both of you didn’t say another word. You didn’t need to. For a moment you looked up into his eyes before he hesitantly pulled you into a hug. His arms were wrapped around your waist. Even through several layers of clothes you could feel his warmth against your chest. He smelled like apple pie and cider. Your arms around his neck, he was pulling you close to him, breathing into your shoulder. At that moment, you felt so vulnerable, like you would break any second and his strong grip was the only thing holding you together. He was stronger than you expected. His hands on your back, he pushed you closer to him. And there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him right in this moment. He had never touched you like that, so intimate and strong.

Slowly his grip loosened, leaving you immediately cold again. Your hands slowly slid down his neck but stayed at his cheeks. You cupped his face looking at his dark blue eyes sparkling. His freckles were almost invisible, varnished with a red colour. His hands stayed at your hips, his thumb lightly brushing over you. You pulled his head down softly and he followed willingly. The amber curls tickled your forehead and you felt a soft hand cupping your cheek. You were only milimetres away from each other, so close, you breathed the same air. The heat was almost unbearable.

“Y/N...”

“Don’t...”, you mumbled. Your foreheads touched lightly. “Y/N, I...”, he began again. You gripped the hair at the back of his head to keep him close. His fingers ran through your hair as his other hand slid up your back. Your lips wanted his. You were breaking under his every touch.

A sudden water splash from the lake ripped you from your moment. Both of you turned to the lake, a dark shimmering creature had risen from the depths of the water. As fast as it appeared, it was gone again. The few water drops you felt, cooled your heated cheeks rather quickly. Newt rushed to the edge of the water, “did you see that?!”, he exclaimed. “Yea”, you gulped, still shook by what just happened. After looking at the water surface for what felt like hours, Newt turned around again looking at you, standing there like a beaten dog. You didn’t dare to say anything. What would you even say? Why didn’t he say anything?

The rest of the night both of you kept pretty much silent. You had never felt this unsure in your life. Normally, Newt was the shy and awkward one but he just turned your world around. The next few days you barely talked, still processing your moment the other night.

Until, you just couldn’t keep it in anymore. Without a warning you blurted out: “Tell me, how you feel about me.”

Newt, who was sorting plants as of right now, turned around with wide eyes. “What...”, he said slowly. “Tell me”, you repeated. “Who am I to you.”

He just stared at you without making a noise for a few moments before looking back at the ground, avoiding your gaze. “What... what do you mean by... by that?”, he stuttered, still looking down.

“Newt, come on. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t... I just can’t keep working here acting like everything’s normal, when it’s not... it’s really not”, you said walking around rubbing your forehead. “What’s wrong?”, he asked innocently. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid question. Is it about your mother? I’m terribly sorry. If there’s anything I can do, just-“

“Stop”, you cut him off sharply. “Please don’t... don’t do that.”

“Do what?”, he asked, obviously confused now.

“Being all cute and innocent and nice and... and just... you”, you replied and looked up at him.

“What’s wrong? I don’t...”, he stammered trying to read you.

“Who am I to you”, you asked again standing right in front of him.

He didn’t reply. He just stared holes in the floor again. Your hands softly found his cheeks and you pushed his gaze up to look at you. His eyes struggled to look at you. But when his found yours, there was it again, the magic, the flicker, the nervous tingling feeling in your stomach. “Tell me”, you whispered. “Say something”, you said, followed by an endless feeling pause.

“You’re funny”, he whispered. You held your breath for a moment.

“And you’re smart... so clever.” You started grinning.

“You make me smile, you’re so good and full of light.” You rubbed your thumb over his cheek.

“You brew the best potions, better than anyone I’ve ever seen. And you’re just...”, he paused.

“You’re just so very beautiful.”

You let out a happy giggle, your hands sliding to his neck and gently twirling his locks with your finger. He couldn’t look into your eyes but you could see that he liked it.

“Your nose is very symmetric and you have a nice chin”, he added, raising his gaze and looking at you with those hazel puppy eyes. You started laughing.

“What?”, he shyed away. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. I shouldn’t have said that... I understand if you want to leave”, he said.

“Don’t you dare think that for one second, Mr Scamander”, you said with a wide grin. That’s when you pulled him closer and finally kissed him. Your lips met and Newt closed the gap between your bodies. He pushed himself against you. “That’s all I wanted to hear”, you pulled away for a brief moment, only to deepen the kiss quickly after saying that. You never wanted to let him go again.

Thank you so much for reading! <3

[scribbleryn]

"Do you need me to pick you up?" (Marc/Finn)

Being the older brother, Marc is used to Finn asking him for favors, particularly when it came to picking him up after a concert or small venue gig. He's surprised and suspicious when his younger brother declines his offer.

This is just writing practice for me to develop myself.

"Do you need me to pick you up?"

Leaning against the door frame, looking into his younger brother's room, Marc observed as Finn rummaged around in a drawer, its contents rattling around as they were swiped from one side to the other.

This particular question had found Marc driving to some part of the city to collect the youngest Davenport on many a night from whatever trouble he had managed to get himself into. Admittedly, it wasn't always trouble. Admittedly, it was more often his friend Matthieu that got Finn into bother.

"No, I'm good."

Marc raised an eyebrow at Finn. "You sure?" He was cautiously skeptical when Finn declined the offer of a pick-up. "I know you'll be texting me sometime after midnight for a bailout."

"Then I'm good till then." It came as a cheeky response as Finn accented it with a grin.

"Where you headed?"

Finding what he was looking for, Finn's eyes lit up as he pocketed the plastic card into his jeans. "I'm going to see a movie with some of the guys from the swim team. We have a tournament coming up, so coach figured we should get some bonding time in so we are in sync."

"Team bonding," Marc acknowledged. "Didn't actually cross my mind that a swim team would do such a thing."

"Yeah!" Finn replied as he closed the drawer with a gentle thud. "I mean, we don't really buy into it, but the new Spiderman film is out, so it seemed a good excuse to get out and see it."

"So, how are you getting back?"

Finn slipped his hand into his pocket to grab his phone, checking the notification he saw. "Pete is picking me up. And he said he'll bring me back."

"Well, if he doesn't, text me, okay?" Marc added as he pushed himself up from the doorframe, entering the room and approaching Finn. "And please, don't try to get into any bars again. You know how much trouble you got in with mom and dad?"

"I swear, I won't make the same mistake twice."

"That was the second time!"

Finn smirked. Looking into his older brother's eyes, he could see so much of himself in Marc. As much as Marc tried to bury it down due to his newfound career in policing, it was only a few years earlier that Finn would recall all the tricks that Marc had pulled and how many Finn had learned from his older sibling. Sneaking in at night, how to hide a bottle of beer in his room, how to get mom and dad to give up cash for a good cause—he knew them all. And thus, it meant Finn had to be one step ahead.

"I know the routine," the younger sibling started as his protective brother approached him. "If things go to shit, give you a call, and you'll come running."

"You know it doesn't quite work like that," Marc replied. "If I'm on a call out, I can't pick up."

"And that's why I said I won't need you to pick me up. I got this."

Marc removed his wallet and tugged out a twenty-dollar bill, offering it over. "Don't spend it all at one popcorn stand," he added, a cheap attempt at humor.

"Bro, I will buy the biggest box of popcorn with this!"

"Enjoy the movie. Don't be home too late. You don't want mom to ground you again."

The smile on Finn's face reached his eyes, sparkling with appreciation as he pocketed the money. "I won't. I promise."

But when does a sixteen-year-olds promise mean anything? For within seconds, Finn had forgotten about his promise as he got ready to leave, tapping the fake ID in his back pocket he had fished out of his drawer. Just another thing he had learned from his older brother.

[with-love-anu]

Don’t say goodbye

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader Summary: Fred is hardly around to support you anymore, and you’ve had enough Warnings: swearing, angst, heartbreak Word Count: 1,847

You sat by the fire waiting for Fred to come home. It was 11:35.

Fred and you had started dating each other in your 6th year. You had fallen in love with his mischievous and light hearted personality. Fred was an amazing boyfriend. He would pick up some wild flowers on his way to come meet you, supported you in every way possible, was the best friend you could ever ask for, and above everything else; he made you happy. He had asked you to move in with him about an year ago and you’d never agreed to something so readily. The two of you lived near the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes in a small, 2 bedroom apartment with George living just downstairs, sharing his apartment with Emilia.

Everything was going great, except Fred had been real busy with his shop lately. You had a job at the ministry. So, you usually got up around eight, gave him a kiss on the forehead, freshened up, made breakfast for you both, leaving his with a warming spell and a note and left for work. You never had the heart to wake him up, not when he came back so late. You sighed. It had been so damn long since you spent time with him. You couldn’t even remember the time when he last kissed you or even held you or asked about your day. And it had been going on for months. You had confronted him about it several times. His answer had been the same. He promised he would try.

You felt alone. Fred seemed so far away. There had been uncountable times, sitting alone, having dinner and having the urge to share something with Fred only to remember he wasn’t there. So many times running your hand over his side of the bed, missing him pulling you on his lap, leaving kisses all over. So many times, just needing his warmth or his understanding face as you ranted about something that got you all riled up. You looked at the time again. It was near midnight and yet there was no sign of Fred. You had got a huge promotion at work today and you wanted him to be the first person you shared the news with. But as hours passed, your excitement dulled. The ice over which you kept the firewhiskey had melted. The food was cold, and you felt your stomach churn and felt tears prickle your eyes. There was a pop and the door opened to reveal Fred, looking all disheveled. He looked at you giving you a small smile and went towards the bedroom.

“Fred…” you whispered as he came out of the room.

“Yes, sweets?” he asked and you took in a deep breath. You had to tell him.

“Fred, you really need to change your work schedule.” You said gravely. Fred frowned.

“I don’t see you Fred. I never get to see you or talk to you or spend even a little bit of time with you. It’s like I’m living alone. I got to see you much much more before I even moved in with you!”

“I’ll try. I promise.” Fred said taking out some plates.

“No, Fred. That’s what you tell me every time. I want you to tell me you’ll be home by 7 tomorrow, like a normal person.” You hissed.

“What do you want me to do, huh?” Fred snapped. “I thought you’d be supportive of me and the business.”

“Don’t you dare say that!” you sneered. “I have been there for you at every step of the way. What I am asking you is to take out time for me too! I need you here too; money and riches are not the only aspect of your life!”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to earn enough money for both of us. For wishing you didn’t have to work and live a happy life.”

“Fred.” You yelled. “You know how much I love my job. I am happy working. What has gotten into you? You were always supportive of me!”

Fred took a deep breath.

“Listen it’s late now, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“When, Fred? When? In the morning, when you are asleep or at night when you come so late?”

Fred remained silent.

“It hurts, Fred. It hurts. It’s like I am alone. People ask me how are we doing and I don’t know how to answer that because I really have no idea what’s going on with you. I have no clue where is our relationship go-“

“You know, what?” Fred shouted staring at you. “If you are so alone, maybe you won’t mind if we actually separate.”

You gasped.

“I’m going to give you a moment to take that back and tell me you didn’t mean it.” You whispered. Fred crossed his arms.

“Listen you know my work is important to me more than anything else. I want to be rich enough for no one to dare insult me or my family. That shop. Is my life. It is the reason Malfoy doesn’t have the guts to spit at my family anymore.”

“So the shop’s more important to you than having I stay?” You dug your nails into your palms, to stop the threatening tears to spill. Not, now. Not when he disregarded your own job, he knew you were passionate about. Not when riches and his status in life was seemingly much more important.

Fred didn’t say anything and you felt your head zoom. You didn’t know what to do, but staying there any longer would kill you. You went to your room and grabbed your coat and some money. Fred stared at you, as you stood at the door.

“What are you doing? Where are you going?” Fred demanded.

“Well, since your business is so much important than having me stay then I guess its better I leave.”

“I hope you become the wealthiest wizard in the country.” You said before apparating to your best friend’s house.

You knocked on Ruuhaan’s door thinking what you’ll say. He opened up in sleepy haze.

“(Y/n)?”

“Can I stay here tonight? I’ll crash on the couch.” You said and he pulled you in.

“Of course you could stay. You know you’re always welcome here. What happened?” he said and you finally let the tears fall.

“I… Fred broke up with me.” You felt blood rush to your brain and your knees felt weak. Saying it out loud made it feel all so real. You fell, losing your balance; but Ruuhaan was beside you in a second holding you.

***

Fred fell on the floor with a thump. What had he done? Why did he snap at her when he knew his anger was directed at something else? He had been trying to get the latest product to work for quite some time. George had given up long ago and said it was dangerous to work on, so Fred stayed back after they closed the shop; working on it secretly. He didn’t know it had such a bad effect on you. The concoction today had failed miserably and Fred was frustrated. He didn’t think you would take it so seriously.

For the next few days, Fred worked like a robot. He told George vaguely what happened and that he didn’t want to talk about it. Because if he talked about it, he knew he would break. He missed you. He missed you so damn much. He visited your office but they told him that you were on a leave; Ruuhaan refused to let him inside, telling him you weren’t there. He missed your smile as you sleepily kissed his forehead in the morning; he missed your little notes which told him to take care. He missed you curling into him when he came to bed at night. His apartment felt devoid of spirit; dark and cold. He understood that it was you, you that kept the light ablaze. He wanted you. Needed you. He loved you. Always did. Why did he fail to show it to you?

Fred’s mother visited them one evening.

“Where’s (Y/n)?” she asked looking around.

“We broke up.” Fred said quietly.

“What, why?” she asked coming towards him.

“She asked me what was more important, my shop or her and I couldn’t answer it so she just left.” Fred sniffed as tears prickled his eyes. Molly wrapped an arm around him, making him sit down.

“Why would you stay silent if even for a moment?” Molly asked quietly.

“I don’t know. It’s important. To earn money.”

“Son, you know all my life, I never chased after the riches. And you know why?” Fred looked at his mother.

“Because money doesn’t make you happy. People do. Family does. You can’t chase after money forever you know.” Molly said making him cry finally.

“I love her and I miss her so so much!” he said as he sobbed into her arms.

***

You came back to your and Fred’s apartment to take your stuff. After hours of crying and moping around, Ruuhaan suggested it was time to move on. But how could you? You loved him. How do you just un-love someone? Seeing your- Fred’s apartment again, brought back memories, happy ones. No, he didn’t value you. You took a deep breath, knocking on the door. It felt odd, doing that. Fred opened the door, gasping on seeing you. You averted your eyes.

“I am here for my stuff.” You said coldly. Fred opened and closed his mouth before pulling the door wide open. Your heart leapt out of your chest as you moved towards the closet, your closet. As you took out your clothes, your ears burned. You felt Fred’s gaze on your every move.

“(Y/n), please don’t do this. Please don’t leave me.” You turned to see Fred in tears. He came forward and held your hands.

“Fred…” you whispered.

“I know I make mistakes, I know I am stupid, but I know you’re not. I know you’ve had enough, but I didn’t. I didn’t believe a word of whatever rubbish I uttered that night. I promise to come back at 6, latest by 7. I promise to be there for you. I won’t try, I would be here. I would have George on my ass if I don’t.” Fred croaked, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry to disregard your job, I’m sorry for so many things I’ve done. With you along, I’ll be happy living in a cave. Eating stale bread, wearing torn clothes. I want you, need you at every step of my life. Please (Y/n), please don’t leave me. Punish me all you want but don’t say good bye.”

It was all too much. You moved forward crushing your lips into his. He held you tight kissing you passionately. It was as if all the emotions from last night poured in and you felt yourself getting lighter. Fred was there. He held you and you knew he would keep his promises.

“I’m sorry.” He sniffed, pulling back.

“Its okay.”

A/N: Let me know what you think!