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littlemissnoname13 · 4 years ago

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Hello can I request where draco in fourth year having a crush on a hufflepuff reader but acts as arsehole cuz he doesn’t know how to show affection , leading it to her avoiding him which makes him depressed about what did he do wrong ?

Hi love. Thanks for the request.💕

I love writing Draco x hufflepuff!reader stories! I am a sucker for a slytherin x hufflepuff pairing.

I added a few extra details here and here. Hope you like it. X

Hopeful (Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader)

Word count: 2100 sorry got a bit carried away. 😅

Warnings: None. Soft!Draco being an absolute blubbering idiot.

Draco’s thoughts are written in green

Spring had arrived.

It could be felt in the cool and gentle zephyr that made the shiny new leaves on top of the once barren and dead trees rustle.

Daisies were in full bloom and the wind had managed to carry some of the petals away—making them fall to the ground, acting like a harbinger of the fast approaching summer.

Draco couldn’t be bothered if it was spring, or autumn or winter.

In that particular moment, all he wanted to do was get away from the Slytherin common room and Pansy Parkinson.

He had taken her to the Yule ball and things had sort of fizzled out afterwards. He couldn’t get himself to see her as anything other than a friend.

Having ran all the way to a far and secluded area of the Hogwarts grounds, Draco leaned against a tree trunk and panted heavily in an attempt to catch his breath.

“Are you—are you alright?”

Your voice startled him and he quickly stood up straight to look around.

You were sitting criss-crossed on the grass with your transfigurations textbook opened on your lap. Your shirt sleeves were rolled up and your yellow and black tie hugged very loosely around your neck.

“Fine.” He muttered as he slowly sat down noticing a single daisy tucked behind your ears.

After sitting there in complete silence for the next few minutes, he finally spoke up.

“What are you even doing here anyway?”

“Just wanted some peace and quiet to be honest.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s a beautiful day.”

Draco just hummed in response and kept staring at the daisy in your hair that swayed lightly with the breeze.

“What?” You asked when you noticed.

“You have—you have a twig stuck in your hair.”

“A daisy.” You corrected him as you closed your book and moved a bit closer to where he was sitting. “It’s a daisy.”

“Yeah I know that. I’m not stupid.” He said quickly. “But why?”

"Well, Daisies are essentially two flowers blended together in complete harmony." You said pulling the daisy out of your free falling hair before putting your hand forward to hand it to him.

“And?” Draco reluctantly took the flower from you and blinked his eyes in confusion.

“They are said to resemble innocence—true love even.” You explained getting comfortable next to him.

“You believe in all that?” Draco scoffed, twirling the flower between his index finger and thumb. He couldn’t tell if the floral fragrance was coming from you or the air but it made him slightly queasy nonetheless.

“Merlin. No.” You scrunched up your nose. “It just gives me hope I guess.”

Draco gave you another hum in response. For someone who came up with snarky and sometimes witty comments on the spot, he found himself weirdly tongue tied.

“I know you were hiding from Pansy by the way.” You remarked, making a small smile pull at his lips.

“How come?”

“What do you mean how come?” You rolled your eyes. “Everyone can see that she is obsessed with you for some reason that I personally can't seem to comprehend.”

~~~~~

The next day during potions class, Draco slowly opened his book and started to absently doodle on it with his quill while Snape talked about the upcoming potions essay that had to be done in pairs.

Draco knew he should be paying attention but he just couldn’t get the interaction between you two out of his head.

And just when he took a deep breath and decided to focus, a familiar scent started to fill his lungs up.

Fruity, almost spicy notes of strawberry and pink grapefruit mixed with gardenias, vanilla and musk. It felt like someone had tossed a huge bouquet into the room.

He knew it was you without even bothering to look up from my book.

"Ah, Miss y/l/n. Late again." Snape muttered. “Five points from Hufflepuff house.”

You quietly sat down next to your friend with your head hung low and Draco fought an unexplainable urge to give you a hug.

"The essay must be done in pairs.." Snape said.

Great.

"Ronald Weasley and Gregory Goyle."

This is exactly what I needed right now. Thanks Snape.

"Blaise Zabini and Hannah Abott."

The last thing I need is someone weighing my essay down.

"Draco Malfoy and y/n y/l/n."

What?

You turned back to look at Draco and gave him an apologetic smile and he didn't understand why you kept smiling at him. It's not like the both of you had suddenly formed an unlikely bond with each other.

Draco scowled at you in return and quickly raised his hand. "May I work on my essay alone?"

"No. You may not Mr. Malfoy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Draco had been studying in the library for almost an hour. Because you were quietly sitting next to him, his elbows and knees slightly brushed yours every few seconds and as much as he hated to admit it, He secretly enjoyed it.

Contrary to yesterday, Draco was trying very hard to make a conversation with you. You seemed somewhat offended that he had asked Snape to work on the essay alone.

“I am happy to do most of the writing if you can look up all the ingredients.” You offered.

You don’t have to do all of that yourself. I am happy to help with the writing too. Is what he should have said.

“Fine whatever.” He said instead as he reached for a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

That night, Draco stayed up tossing and turning in his bed before giving up on getting any sleep for the night.

He lethargically walked towards his dresser and put his hands in his blazer pocket pulling out the now dried and pressed daisy from the other day.

Taking a deep breath, he put the flower in between the pages of his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

You were drawing him in, undoing him, unraveling him even.

He knew that.

But did you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Draco! Open up."

His head jolted towards the door and He quickly walked over to open it.

You stood on the other end with books tucked in your arms, wearing your denim shorts and a plain white tank top—looking like summer personified.

The more time he spent with you, the more he started to notice your quirks. Like that the way your skin glowed as the days got warmer.

Compliment her. Do it. It’s not Difficult.

“Did you do something different to your hair?”

“Uh—no why are you asking.”

“It just looks a bit strange.” He commented wanting to slap himself.

"Okay, well are you going to let me in?" You questioned, wondering why he was blocking the way and asking you about your hair.

Why did you have to wear that God damned tank top-

"Sorry?" You asked stepping inside making his cheeks burn when he realized he wasn’t meaning to say that out loud.

"Just shut up and get back to working in the essay or whatever it is that you were doing." Draco grumbled feeling embarrassed as he grabbed some fresh parchment.

Okay. Focus. The Strengthening solution requires...

You stretched a little and pushed your hair away from your face.

several days to mature...

"Staring is rude Draco." You suddenly interrupted his thoughts as you set your eyes on his—peering right into his soul.

Draco felt like he was giving you some sort of power over him and the possibility of you using that power and leaving him heartbroken made him feel so very vulnerable.

He couldn't take the vulnerability a second longer.

"I don't think we should study together anymore." He blurted quickly standing up. “It's for the best.”

"Huh?" You stood up contorting your face in total confusion—wondering just what you had done to piss him off. "What's wrong Draco? Did I do something wrong?"

"Leave. Now." He muttered with his teeth clenched.

Please don’t go.

"Just go—leave please."

You couldn’t help but feel a sharp sting burning your insides as you gathered all the books that were on the floor and ran made your way towards hufflepuff dormitories with tears threatening to flood your eyes.

As soon as you ran off, he punched his wall and muttered out the plethora of angry curses when the impact bruised his knuckles.

~~~~~~~~~~~

During the following week, Draco failed to show up to any of your shared classes after you had refused to talk to him after what happened.

Even if you did manage to see him walking down the halls or walking with Crabbe and Goyle, you noticed that he looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days.

On a Tuesday, Draco looked at the Hufflepuff table during breakfast and when you caught his eye, all you did was look away.

Everyone at school had their opinions about him—most of them weren’t good opinions.

But when you were with him under that tree, he seemed different. His smirk was more playful than condescending. It managed to charm you in a way.

You took a final bite of your toast and gathered all your books, walking to your Potions class.

His seat still remained empty and you shook your head, trying to snap away from the thoughts of him as you flipped open your book.

Only it wasn’t your book.

You didn’t remember writing on the margins and making annotations on your book.

Running your fingertips along the pages, you flipped to the very first page of the book.

D. Malfoy was written in ridiculously neat handwriting and you shook your head when you realized that you had grabbed his book with you that day by mistake.

And just when you were about to put his book away, something fell from in between the pages and fell onto your desk.

It was the daisy you had woven into your hair the other day. Even in its dried state, the petals remained intact like her had done something to keep them that way.

When class was finally over, you made a quick beeline towards the slytherin dungeons, bumping into people along the way.

~~~~~~~~~

“Some hufflepuff girl is standing outside the dungeons asking to see you.” Theo shrugged when he saw Draco at the common room sofa. “Says it's urgent.”

He felt terrified yet so elated as he quickly stood up and made his way outside.

“Here’s your book.” You said taking a step towards him. “You never told me what’s wrong by the way.”

“Thank you.” Draco quickly took his book from you and stared at the ground.

“Why did you stop talking to me y/n?”

“You told me to go away—If I remember correctly.” You said shaking your head at him. “Tell me Draco, what’s wrong?”

“Everything.” He said quietly, meeting your gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"You make me feel all weak.....and smiley...and I hate it." He looked at you with agitation.

"Weak?" You ran your fingers through your hair in confusion.

"And your ridiculous white tank top." Draco half yelled.

"What's wrong with my top?" You asked, raising your voice slightly as if you had had enough of this.

"Nothing is wrong except for the fact that you look stunning in it.” He blurted involuntarily. "It is absolutely distracting when one is trying to study!."

He watched you open your mouth in shock and close it. Before he could spend another minute trying to solve the riddle that was your expression, you grabbed him by his tie and placed your lips on his.

His brows furrowed as he kissed you back tenderly. Tasting the sweetness of your lips—pouring out every bit of suppressed passion and adoration he felt for you with his lips.

There was something so strange and euphoric about finally kissing someone he had been longing to kiss for so long.

Something so magical about holding the person that fits perfectly into his arms.

Freaking Finally.

He was slightly disappointed when you slowly backed away, but the glow on your skin and the glossy ness in your eyes made him smile.

"I guess I'll leave before I realize the consequences of what I have just done." You said softly as you held his face and placed a small peck on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, you found a tiny box and an envelope on your desk when you woke up. Your roommate let you know that Draco Malfoy had stopped by late last night when you were asleep and half begged and half threatened her to leave the box on your desk.

You slowly opened the box and found a bedazzled and whimsical looking daisy necklace, encrusted with gems.

A Daisy for my daisy.

You give me hope.

- D.M

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco Taglist: @dracomalfoyisindahouse @dracomalfoys-wh0re @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @desiredmalfoy @dlmmdl @trainintersection @fa-me @dracoswhore007 @paulina1998 @wh0re4blaise @marrymetheonott @quacksonsssandtea @letoof @rvaldez7569 @loloo22 @emma67 @berriemalfoy @thegaudess @itchywitch33 @louweasleymalfoy @lunar0se10 @savagelysarcasticslytherin @fleursbabe @teawineaddict @thebitchybeatle @malfoyxxdraco23 @fantasyfairysworld @trashyvicks @h0ggyw0ggyh0gwarts @l0vely-lupin @linasylveon @amwitherspoon @the-bisexual-bitch

Love you all sm. (if i was unable to tag you, please look into your privacy settings)

Fell free to send me reuests. My other stories can be found here.

Join my taglist here.

- violet-Anne

#harry potter #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #slytherin #draco lucius malfoy #draco one shot #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco fluff

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softukiyos · 4 years ago

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a pinch of the jeekies | han jisung

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦

𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝘫𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: ~2.7k+

𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮: 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘩𝘪 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦! 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦! 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩! >.< 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

Jisung liked to take pride in his cheeks. When he'd first entered elementary school, he despised them. Everyone had seemed to shed their baby fat very quickly, but his squishy cheeks never left. After a few years of struggling with his self image, he entered high school, confident and proud of how he looked.

His cheeks were unmatched. No one would ever have cheeks that could even come close.

At least, that was what he thought before he met you, his strict, grumpy tutor that his chemistry teacher had assigned to him in hopes of raising his abysmal grades.

Jisung didn't like you at first. He'd known you from afar like most other people did; the top of the class, intellectually brilliant but aloof girl that didn't seem to care about anyone in the school.

Jisung didn't like you when he first met you in person. Your tutoring sessions were hard, and he meant really hard. You never let him get away with a single thing, not one missing unit, not one problem where he forgot to show work, nothing ever passed your watchful eye. And as much as he tried to resist, he found his grades improving at a rapid rate, which only encouraged his teacher to send him to you more.

After a month or so, however, it sort of hit Jisung like a truck when he finally had the revelation that you weren't so bad. As Spartan as your teaching methods were, you never belittled him for asking a stupid question, you wouldn't laugh if he asked you to slow down, and all in all, you were genuinely quite considerate of his feelings while still managing to get the results out of him. The first time he saw you genuinely smile was when he handed you his first B+, where you looked him in the eye and told him that you were proud of his improvement.

Jisung couldn't even remember the last time he received a compliment like that from anyone. So after a while, he began to think that maybe you didn't show care towards anyone in particular because no one ever bothered to look past your reputation to see you for who you were.

After another day of classes, he headed to the library, ready for another grueling hour of chemical reaction exercises. However, as he turned the corner into the little nook that you liked to study in, his steps faltered as he saw you slumped over the desk, your head resting on your arms as you slept soundly.

Now, Jisung probably shouldn't have gotten so excited to see you sleep, but he did. After all, he'd never seen you in such a relaxed state around him, and as he took a peek at your face, he physically had to stop himself from cooing out loud at how adorable you looked.

Woah, woah, woah. What?

The boy did a quick double take. When did he ever think his chemistry tutor was cute? Well, there was that one time he saw you scurrying down the hallway when you came to school late, there was that one time you sneezed on your way up to the whiteboard and looked a bit like a deer in headlights. There was also that one time he saw you giggle when you came across a quokka doodle in his notes and--oh my god that was basically 98% of his time with you and the other 2% was the time he was just staring at you from afar.

Gulping nervously, he slid into the chair next to you and very carefully placed his book bag on the table. To be honest, he was waiting for you to wake up on your own; with a brother named Changbin who was a literal demon if you even so much as nudged him while he was asleep, Jisung was well aware of the dangers of waking people up from naps. He wasn’t sure what type of riser you were, and he wasn’t going to find out.

But as the minutes ticked on and crept into your normal tutoring time, you still didn’t wake and Jisung just sat beside you, picking imaginary petals in his head to decide whether or not he should give your shoulder a light nudge. He wanted to, because he knew you’d probably get upset at him if you woke up later to find that the two of you had wasted precious time, but on the other hand, you did look quite exhausted, even more so than usual. The bags under your eyes seemed slightly more defined, and this nap looked like the first moment of decent sleep you’ve gotten in days.

Eventually, Jisung decided not to wake you. If you got angry, then he’d just promise to study on his own when he got back home. He could put off playing games with Felix for one night if it meant that you got some rest. When you made an expression of discomfort, he even shrugged off his bomber jacket, rolling it into a pillow before gently maneuvering it to replace the book you were sleeping on.

With nothing else to do, Jisung found himself spending much of that time on his phone, but he couldn’t help but take some of the other time to gaze at you. Now that you weren’t wacking him with a rolled up test that he failed or glaring at everyone, you actually looked quite innocent and peaceful. You looked even happy, and Jisung wondered what you were dreaming about.

But what really caught Jisung’s eye were your cheeks. With your face squished against your arm, your cheeks were puffed up adorably, and it took every ounce of self restraint for Jisung to not poke them at least once. They looked like little marshmallows, and as the minutes ticked on, Jisung found it harder and harder to control himself.

He even felt a little bit of jealousy curling in his gut. What moisturizer did you use? Why did your cheeks look softer than his?

“Oh, the two of you are still here!”

Jisung almost jumped out of his seat as the librarian peaked her head into the corner, “A-ah, yes!” He stumbled over his words nervously.

“Well, you better hurry out. I’m closing up in five,” she said before finishing up her rounds so she could leave for the day. Checking his phone, Jisung realized with a start that it was almost six in the evening, thirty minutes past when your normal tutoring session ended. He didn’t even notice.

He glanced over at you, who was still snoring away without a care in the world and his expression softened. Looks like he’d have to wake you up after all. He almost didn’t want to, but against his better judgement, he leaned towards you and gave your cheek a gentle little pinch, full of fondness that he didn’t even really understand yet.

“Y/N,” he murmured your name as softly as possible, his smiling widening as you let out a soft groan in response. Wow, your cheeks were fluffier than anything he’d ever touched before.

“What…?” you mumbled, eyes fluttering open as you sat up, gripping at Jisung’s jacket in confusion.

He smiled, “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he ducked under your sleepy attempt to flick his forehead.

“What time is it?”

“Almost six,” Jisung said, helping you pack your book bag as you regained your bearings. As you finally managed to process where you were, your eyes widened almost comically.

“It’s almost six.”

Jisung laughed, “Yes? That’s what I just said?”

You shoved his jacket back at his chest, cheeks unnaturally hot, “Why didn’t you wake me up?!” Gosh, you were more than embarrassed. It was one thing to miss a tutoring session, it was another to sleep through it with your student literally right next to you. Especially when the student was Han Jisung.

He took his jacket back, still amused by how flustered you looked. In all the time he’d spent with you, he’d never seen you look so frazzled before, “I wanted to wake you, but you looked so tired!” Jisung explained, deciding to take the moment to try and reach out to you once more, “Is everything alright? You looked really drained. I noticed in class, too.”

You tensed up, not expecting Jisung to be so observant. No, scratch that, you knew Jisung was always observant, but you never thought that applied to you.

“I just have a little more on my plate now,” you explained the best you could without actually explaining.

Jisung felt a pang of disappointment. It was the blank wall to the face again, like he always got when he tried to get to know you better. Two steps forward, four steps back.

“But, regardless, you should've woken me up,” you continued, huffing at him as you reached into your bag to pull out your planner, “It's my fault for oversleeping, so let me know what time you'd like to reschedule--”

“Woah, woah,” Jisung waved his hands frantically, shaking his head, “Didn't you just say you have more on your plate now? You don't need to reschedule.”

You gave him an inquisitive stare and he physically had to hold back a gulp, “Are you just trying to get out of tutoring?” You asked, but he noticed that your voice didn't hold any edge to it, another red flag that you were probably a lot more exhausted than you let on.

“I'm not, I promise,” he held his arms up in surrender, “I'll go over the material and do the assignment myself. You can check it over next week!”

A moment of silence passed before you relented, placing the planner back in your bag with a sigh, “Okay, but the three mistake rule still stands. Got it?”

Jisung smiled, “Got it,” he said, grabbing his bag and standing up, “I won't let you down after all the help you've given me.”

“You really think this is helpful?” The surprise in your words spilled out despite your best attempts to keep your mask of passivity. Fuck, it was always Jisung that made you like this. Any other person would tried to tear down your mental walls, only for you to build them up twice as high and twice as thick. But Jisung--Jisung just walked past them like they didn't even exist.

“Um, yeah? My grades literally went from C’s to B’s and A’s because of you!” Jisung exclaimed, practically offended for your sake at the mere thought of your question, “If that isn't helpful, then what is?”

A dry chuckle left your lips as the two of you walked out of the library, “That isn't what I meant. Normally, people would say that I'm a bit...harsh? Overbearing? Un-fun?”

Jisung bit his lip, his eyes rounding with a mix of realization and guilt as he saw the expression on your face. You probably didn't even notice it as you looked up into the sky, but he could see it as clear as day. A bittersweetness that looked a bit like hurt, but it wasn't quite either.

So you did know of what people said about you, and it did affect you. The guilt festered in his chest as Jisung came to the painful realization that he was part of that group of judging before knowing only a few weeks before.

“Um!” Jisung blurted out rather clumsily, grabbing your attention as you turned to face him, “You're a good teacher. Y-yeah, sometimes you can be a bit strict, but people should know that you do it only because you want them to succeed!”

A moment of awkward silence passed between the two of you, and Jisung was about to disappear into the ground when you let out a giggle, covering your mouth with the back of your hand and failing to hide your amusement.

You laughed. You laughed because of him. You were smiling because of him. Jisung held your expression, your moment of happiness, close to his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to see it again.

“Thank you, Jisung,” you said after your giggles died and you stood before him, a bit of distance still between the two of you even though it wasn't quite as tense or awkward as before, “That means a lot to me, really.”

Jisung’s face lit up, and he nodded, “And I really mean what I said! I wouldn't have gotten so much better without you.”

Your cheeks felt unusually warm in the chilly evening, and you realized that you should probably make your escape soon before you found yourself falling more and more for this boy who wore his heart on his sleeve.

“Well, thank you again,” you said sincerely, clutching the strap of your book bag as you gave him a smile, already beginning to turn away, “I’m gonna head home, so I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Jisung felt the joy in his heart stutter a bit at the way you turned to glance down the road you were about to take, and his mouth worked before his brain, “Wait! I could give you a ride!” He blurted out before wanting nothing more than to bonk himself in the head.

“Oh?” You turned back around to face him as you crossed your arms, “You drive?”

“Uh, I have a bike, which is still faster than walking,” Jisung supplied the follow up information rather unhelpfully, but it made you smile nonetheless, “And you live close to Seungmin’s family bakery, right? I live right around there, too.”

There wasn’t much about that offer that you could really refuse, and you found yourself not wanting to anyway. You were still pretty exhausted and you were already dreading the walk back home.

And besides, a little extra time with Han Jisung never hurt anyone except for your poor heart, which was beginning to grow tired of fighting your obvious attraction for this boy.

“Alright,” you said, shifting your bag strap higher up your shoulder as you gestured, “lead the way.”

The ride was quite silent, but neither of you minded. If anything, you enjoyed the silence, and Jisung knew you enjoyed it, so he didn’t bother to pry or start conversation. With your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you sat behind him on what was normally the basket rack, and with the sky loosing its pinkish tones and exchanging them for the dark blues and purples of night, everything felt strangely perfect and--dare you say it--romantic.

When you finally told Jisung to stop in the front of a house just a couple buildings down from Seungmin’s bakery, the air between the two of you had shifted somehow. It wasn’t a big change; you weren’t suddenly head over heels in love with him and he wasn’t suddenly filled with the urge to kiss you like they do in shoujo mangas, but there was a comfortable and mutual sense of affection for one another that didn’t need any pushing or rushing from either side. The two of you just...knew it somehow.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, your voice soft as you swung your leg off and found yourself next to the bike, face to face with Jisung.

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled, leaning against the handle of his bike in a way that made him look deviously adorable. You bit your lip, hesitating for a second before reaching up with your fingers and giving his soft cheeks a light squish.

Huh, they were even softer than you’d imagined they would be.

Jisung’s eyes grew as wide as saucers, which snapped you out of your daze as you quickly pulled your hand away and cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Don’t forget to go over today’s chapter when you get home,” you said, trying to mask your embarrassment and keep your voice steady as you gave him one last smile before rushing into your house, fumbling a bit with the keys when you pulled them out of your bag.

Jisung stood in front of your house for a moment longer, his eyes dazed with surprise as he reached up to rub his cheek. Fuck, if you mess around with him like this any more, he’d be head over heels in love with you before the semester even ended.

And as Jisung biked back home, he didn’t even care that he actually lived in the opposite direction and he’d lied a bit in order to make sure you got back safe. Your smiles, your laughter, and your gentle retaliation for his earlier pinch of your cheek made it all worth it.

Jisung thought he had the cutest cheeks in the world, but he was pretty satisfied with being second best now.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids blurbs #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x y/n #han jisung blurbs #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #skz x reader #dream type: drabbles

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starglow-xx · 4 years ago

Note

(About the brother!atsushi) aRE YOU READING MY MIND MISS?! Because that has been on my mind for MONTHS. TYSM For writing it was amazing!! If you don't mind, may I request (if requests are open) atsushi, still an older brother, but with a sister that's 10-13 yrs old? It's totally fine if you don't wanna do it. Keep up the good stories, ily mwuah!

*sobs* you’re so kind thank youu 🤧🤧

i wrote this a bit differently i hope that’s okay anon! at first i planned for this to be mainly abt atsushi and the reader, but i decided to add in relationship hcs with the agency bc i ran out of ideas

if you guys liked this don’t worry! im planning a special part two for this one so be the look out for it hehe

atsushi with a tween! sister

ft. the armed detective agency

like in my baby sister hcs, you’re still the most important thing to him period

the two of you got picked up by dazai and kunikida when he was 18 (obviously) and when you were 12

for a 12 year old, you were a bit small bc of malnourishment (which makes atsushi feel so bad) so both dazai and kunikida thought you were a bit younger than you actually were

they assumed you were about 9-10ish

you and atsushi both share a favorite food !! chazuke :)

so when kunikida treated the two of you, he made sure you got more bowls bc like i mentioned above, he feels really bad that you were malnourished and under weight

(don’t bring this up but kunikida felt bad too hehe)

when dazai went with your brother to the warehouse, you were with kunikida

imagine the surprise of the other ada members when kunikida came in with a little girl dressed in rags that popped out from behind him

kenji was the one who vocalized his thoughts

“kunikida-san you have a daughter?! wow! i didn’t know that! :D”

when you found out your brother was a tiger, you were a bit concerned but you were actually kind of excited

you were even more excited when you found out the two of you were going to be taken in by the agency

anything was better than the stupid orphanage

and besides!

you got a tiger for an older brother and a bunch of other super powered agents to take care of you! who could want anything else?

at your age, you’re very impressionable and can be influenced easily so atsushi makes sure to teach you more in depth of good morals and the importance of kindness

his heart swells with pride and relief when he catches you being kind to others

pride bc he’s proud that even after all the two of you have gone through, you still ended up being a good kid and having a bright view of the world

and relief bc he hasn’t failed as a big brother

pfftt like he could ever fail

but please, from time to time reassure him that he’s perfect and the only big brother that you’d ever want bc he rlly needs that kind of validation

with his salary and savings, he tries to buy nice things for you

what a sweetheart 🥺

he saw you eyeing that one dress at a store window? fast forward abt a week and half and it’s inside a pretty gift bag for you

you wanted to try that dessert from the nice bakery? that’s dessert after dinner at one point

but other than buying you things, he sets money aside for you

like all the time

(y/n), here have this, you might need it”

“but nii-san you just gave me—”

“take it”

#1 spoiler

also your #1 confidant and source of physical affection

you tell him anything and everything (except crushies and those kinds of things)

atsushi loves it when you talk abt your day and he can see the big smile on your face and the sparkle in your eyes

it gives him the strength to keep going 😖😖

the two of you aren’t as touch starved as you’d probably think, but that’s only bc the two of you had each other

in your opinion, no one can match the hugs of your big brother

and it got even better bc YAYY he has tiger arms now ٩(◕‿◕)۶

if you ask, he’d carry you around too hehe

you also get nightmares quite often so he’ll always be there ready to calm you down, talk if you need to, and rock you back to sleep

god i love him 🤧🤧

atsushi will do everything in his power to protect you and make sure you get to grow up happy, supported, and loved

port mafia attack? oop he’s already taking you to the nearest escape route

someone is starting to harass you? they just got suckered punched into the next week

you want to go out to have some fun? he’ll go ask the president for a day off

you’re not feeling well? he’ll take another day off and take care of you

whatever you want to do, he’ll do it with you! (as long as it’s within reason)

will always be your #1 supporter! and he’s the president of your fan club hehe

he loves you so so much and will do anything for you; your life and happiness will always be more important to him

you are his reason to keep going

agency head canons !!

atsushi is your big brother, but kunikida is most definitely some sort of father figure

everyone can see it

except kunikida of course

kunikida scolds you lightly if he thinks your manners need work or if you make a mess in the agency

you listen to him of course and in turn as some sort of a reward, he’ll give you pieces of stationary

he always gives you the nice, good quality kind and you’re over the moon

atsushi adores it when you come running to him showing your new notebook or fountain pen and blabbering what you’re going to do with it

sometimes it isn’t even as a reward for being a good child; he’ll just give it to you and he’ll say smth like “i noticed you’ve used up your last notebook quite quickly, so here’s another one” or “did you run out of ink? here have this then”

he usually has a soft spot for children in general, but he most definitely has a soft spot (or a thousand) for you

yosano is kind of like a motherly figure to you

she gives you the guidance a mother should and goes on shopping trips with you!

atsushi always gets dragged along by you, but he thinks it’s worth it seeing you look so happy

yosano being a doctor also tries to teach the things you should know, or things that would be helpful to you

she’ll teach you the basics of cooking, sewing, how to treat a cold/fever, etc

also gives you excellent advice 1000% of the time

“remember (y/n)-chan if someone hurts you come tell me and then i’ll chop them into—”

“yOSANO-SENSEI DONT TELL HER THAT—”

fukuzawa is like a father to most in the agency but you see him more as a grandfather figure

bi weekly tea and gossip sessions hehe

along with cat talk!

most of the time though, it’s just you talking and him listening to you, but the two of you enjoy it nonetheless

“and then kunikida-san ended up crashing into a pole and dazai-san started to laugh at him and i did too because it was really funny but we ended up getting scolded—”

“hmm i see...”

he’ll let you stay in his office as he fills out paperwork; you’re usually doodling or drawing in your notebooks

sometimes he’ll meditate and you’ll join him, but 4/7 times you’d fall asleep

you always wake up with a blanket over you

dazai is like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

frequently takes you out with him when he ditches work

walks in the park, eating at uzumaki so he has the excuse of treating you so he doesn’t have to pay his tab avoiding kunikida and sometimes chuuya and akutagawa, all that fun stuff

also tries to not talk abt suicide in front of you especially if it’s just the two of you alone

he knows that you mean the world to his pupil and that said pupil would probably hate him for putting suicide inside your brain

he teaches you random but useful things like how to pick a lock, how to steal kunikida’s notebook if you’re looking for some information, how to sweet talk your way out of things, etc.

is also the one to tell you that if you ever get a significant other to introduce them to the agency first

he always wants all of your gossip; some of them work pretty well for blackmail

“dazai-san! dazai-san! did you know that kunikida-san lost his glasses and he was looking for them for nearly an hour when he was just holding them the entire time??”

“woah really (y/n)-chan?! hey hey can you say it again into this recording device so kunikida-kun would believe me when i tell him—”

always ends up giving kunikida a heart attack when he says that you’ve been with him all day

ranpo is also like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

will share some of his snacks, but don’t push it or you might not get anything at all

loves it when you compliment him

if you tagged along with him and your brother on a case, he will show off to impress you

“...and that’s how the crime happened”

“UWAHH RANPO-SAN YOU’RE SO COOL”

atsushi is lowkey and kunikida is highkey stressed that ranpo’s eating habits will rub off on you

“ne (y/n)-chan do you wanna try this highly caffeinated drink and this concerning amount of sugar filled snack?”

“can i really?!”

“rANPO-SAN NO—”

ranpo definitely does stuff like that on purpose

the tanizakis are like siblings to you!

a weird set of siblings but siblings nonetheless

the two of them adore you and think you’re precious

atsushi definitely knows how to do your hair whether it’s long or short but he got even better at it when he asked the two

hehe braid trains are definitely a thing + kyouka and kenji (and maybe even dazai)

sometimes you have sibling swap days

you’re with junichiro for most of the day and atsushi is with naomi

strange i know

each of the tanizaki siblings try to make it fun bc they know that the two of you did not at all have a happy upbringing

junichiro likes spending time with you by taking you out to different places that naomi likes to frequent

like the mall, different stores and restaurants, the park, places like those

naomi does the same thing with atsushi so if you ever bump into them, you go out and eat together :)

besides atsushi, the next one in line who spoils you the most would be junichiro (and yosano & kunikida both coming in at a close third)

he honestly can’t help it; you remind him of how naomi was when she was younger

and besides

he’s always been a sucker when it came to the happiness of a little sister

“would you really buy this for me junichiro-san?!”

“of course! don’t worry about it” :)

wanna talk abt boys/girls/celebrity crushes things like that? naomi is your girl

you feel a bit embarrassed to go talking to yosano or your brother abt that and kyouka does not know a thing abt them either

“uwahh naomi-san look at all these people in this magazine! they look so good!”

“right?! but of course onii-sama is still the best—”

you get along with kenji and kyouka quite nicely being roughly the same age as them; they’re also like siblings!

just pure, wholesome vibes from the three of you

you’re over the moon when she finds out that kyouka is staying with you and your brother

atsushi is twice as happy seeing you talk your mouth off and finally having a girl around your age to talk to

“do you think demon snow can change how she looks?”

“hmm... im not sure...”

you and kenji talk abt anything and everything

he even teaches you how to take care of plants!

sometimes the two of you are kind of in the same boat bc you don’t know much abt yokohoma being stuck in the orphanage and kenji doesn’t know much abt cities in general

“wait where are we again kenji-san?”

“ah we’re close to the ports! but im not really sure how close because i don’t know what the symbols on this sign mean”

“don’t worry! neither do i!”

bonus things!

yosano was kind of too late teaching you abt you know what

“NII-SAN IM BLEEDING IN BETWEEN MY LEGS”

you’re sobbing in the agency’s bathroom and atsushi is panicking trying to get you to open the door

“Y/N?! H-HOLD ON LET ME GET YOSANO SENSEI”

ranpo overhears and cackles making everyone around him confused

suddenly atsushi bursts in the agency basically on the verge of tears rambling incoherent sentences abt the bathroom, you, and blood

it just clicked for everybody in the room

(im going to pretend that kenji has sisters back home so that atsushi is the only one who remain oblivious here hehe)

atsushi is genuinely confused and sort of concerned that no one is freaking out with him

yosano waves her hand saying smth like that she’d take care of it and junichiro pulls atsushi to the side to talk to him

fast forward like half and hour and dazai and ranpo are cackling on the looks of both of your faces

honestly not sure who’s more traumatized, you or your brother

“why does this have to happen” :(

“ne ne (y/n)-chan!~ you’re too young but at some point you’re not going to have it!”

“uwahh really dazai-san?” :D

“yeah! but first you have to have ANFK—”

next thing you know your ears are being covered by your brother and dazai is thrown across the room by kunikida

you know

the normal

you’re twelve and have never gone to school, but the agency takes care of that

it’s too dangerous to go to school so they teach you what’s necessary and whatever else they can

kunikida takes care of math (obviously)

yosano takes care of science/biology/anatomy/health (whatever you wanna call it)

ranpo even dragged poe to help you with english

atsushi even got lucy to help you out with english too!

as tanizaki and naomi used to be students, they give you their old work books and they try to teach you all the other subjects

sometimes kyouka and kenji are there learing with you too!

sorry if there’s some errors! i’ll read through it again later :)

and as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

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ayamturd · 4 years ago

Text

end│dreamwastaken

summary: dream was once your everything that you would do anything for; what happens when you finally confront the reality of his manipulation and sadistic destruction?

prompt: “we’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price.”

warnings: descriptive manipulation, a single curse word, angst

pairing: in-game c!dream

a/n: this is my entry for @sleepysoupi‘s 1.8k event! it goes without saying how late i am considering she’s currently working on her 2.0k event, but still a huge congratulatory to her amazing success and obvious, well deserved recognition <33 we love soupi in this household, nothing less of the fact *^*

also i know the prison doesn’t work exactly like how i wrote it, but let’s pretend for the sake of this fic

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

“Don’t do this, y/n.”

The air was sticky and heavy. As the lava bubbled behind you, it felt as if the heat could reach out and smother you entirely; the subtle warmth that felt insufferably suffocating in the tight space was a large contrast to the dark, opaque walls.

Although you stood in front of him by your own desire, habits quickly fell to place as he stood proudly above you. Chin raised, Dream’s shoulders were relaxed while he spoke to you. His words were firm, and with clenched fists, you swallowed harshly from his mocking tone.

You could practically hear his condescending grin without looking in how belittling he addressed you, and you hated how familiar the speech was.

“After all I’ve done for you, and you want to throw it all away?”

Despite all attempts, you unconsciously bowed your head down. Whether in unjustified guilt or the internal rage from his lies, you couldn’t say yourself. He noticed nonetheless, and played into your vulnerability further.

He was the one defenseless in this scenario, yet he held all the power in the small cage between the two of you.

“We made promises! ‘Till the very end, right?!” He began to raise his voice and feigned some form of heartbreak, taking a step dangerously closer to you while you stood there in frozen fear.

Staring harshly down at your feet, the weight of gravity pulled at your tears as they trickled down sparsely. This was different than when you originally confronted him mere hours ago. Here, you were alone and with no backing, no one to reassure you that you did the right thing. That he was a monster that had you blinded for so long.

That you were justified for betraying Dream.

“Don’t play stupid with me now. You can’t act like I did this all alone. That I’m not the only sick fuck in the room who enjoys the-”

“Stop it,” you whispered with closed eyes. While your voice was small, it echoed so loudly and threw Dream off guard. He shook his head and with a dark chuckle, sneered disparagingly.

“You really th-”

Your eyes opened as you unexpectedly interrupted him.

“No. For once in my life, I mean it. Shut your egotistical mouth for one goddamn second.”

Everything was in a frozen stand still as you snapped.

Course tears ran steadily down your cheeks, yet your eyes held more strength than Dream could had ever perceived in that moment. It had been so long since you had lost your voice. Lost your confidence, your fire that drew him in in the first place. It had been so long since you felt like yourself again, the person you once were before he teared you down completely to his mercy.

You swallowed sternly in exposed anxiety; when was the last time you saw his face like this? Saw his face at all, at that.

The molten lava radiated the room, it being the main source of light in contrast to the faint glow of the lanterns built into the walls. When you had originally requested to see him one final time before he was officially locked away for good, you had no idea what you expected to see. You didn’t see anything, actually, since you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet his eye line the entire time.

Until now.

As the magma shaded the room in a warm shine, his dull eyes gleamed a faded hue of ash green. His dirty blond hair was visible without his signature hoodie, his previous clothes stripped away and replaced with an attired uniform instead. He hid behind a mask for so long, it was surreal to see him as something so mundane and human.

Your mouth felt so dry from seeing him again. He almost looked like when you first laid eyes on him, that beautiful day when you thought you had fallen in love. How nice the sun felt, and how crisp the wind blew. The summer day was fresh and the sweet smell of honey pervaded the air. To think it was by mere chance he approached you in the white flower field, hidden in the depths of the forest with a charming smile and gentle hand.

How cruel reality liked to play with you and give you false hope that such love could truly exist.

The memory brought a smoldering rage that made your heart race in return. Back straight, you dared a step towards him with a quiet, yet firm declaration.

“I’m done making excuses for your lies. For your actions, for the hurt you cause, for you.”

Dream could barely register your words as you continued in growing fury. It was like the floodgates were open and you felt free to speak your truth.

You were riding this new found wave and would hold nothing back anymore.

“I let you get away with so much because I truly believed that I loved you. That my love could fix you, or change what you are.”

You stepped forward again, your finger shakily pointed at him. His mouth opened to respond but you spoke before he could try. You weren’t going to give him anything, you thought, he doesn’t deserve your silence.

“I went against everything I believed!” you suddenly yelled, “everything I stood for, everything I thought because of you!”

Your vision was a blur as your raw emotions came loose. You screamed from the top of your lungs to the point where your voice cracked with a head lifted high.

“I let people get hurt! People I love and care for because I prioritized you over everything I had!”

Another step forward, your voice shook with quivered lips as a result of an ached and long scorned heart.

“To think I used to be so proud to say it, to say you were my everything and my world.” With a trembled exhale, you gathered yourself before finishing your thought. “Maybe I am stupid, but trust me when I say my ignorance was your freedom and my considered love a blind devotion.”

Dream’s face softened considerably, for he was at a loss for words and didn’t have anything to probe at anymore. It was his turn to suffer in a lost acceptance.

“I…”

Shaking your head, you scoffed with your head tilted in disbelief. Smiling darkly, you knew then and there you regained the power of the room and your self-assurance over him. How the turn tables.

“Funny how things change when you have no where to run. When you’re the one helpless and reliant.”

Standing strong with your arms crossed, you stared at him with such distaste. Dream’s brows furrowed with a clench jaw as he stepped even closer to you. He was now mere inches away and glared down at you from his given height. Even then, you wouldn’t back down any longer.

“I do love you, y/n. Everything I did, I did for us. You can’t leave me like this.” He gazed down with such intensity that your past you would have wanted to say something just to appease him entirely; you weren’t that person anymore, and you wouldn’t let him drag you down more than he already has.

Dropping yours arms before stepping back, you messaged Sam without wavering your eye contact from him.

“We’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price of it alone.”

The sounded mechanics from outside the box indicated the lava dropping, signifying the end of your visit. Dream grew agitated at the thought of you leaving and dropped his eyes down in resent, a huge contrast to your relaxed and calm state.

You moved backwards until your back threatened to be burned by the heat.

“Here’s to loosing all those attachments you mentioned.”

Dream’s head snapped up from your words, but before he could attempt anything further, the Netherite divider rose and separated you both. The lava parted as you approached the platform, Sam visible from across the entrapping moat. He watched closely in regard to your safety and anything Dream might try with your back currently turned.

Approaching the stone platform once deemed safe, you turned to face him a final time as the contraption slowly pulled you away. Your chin was raised, and your tears were dry in satisfaction to your found closure.

“You were right,” you affirmed, “we did make promises, and this is our end.”

Bonus:

Tommy had been tormenting Dream for the past few minutes or so, his obnoxious taunts a sign of recovery from all the trauma he had dealt with from his young age. He hid behind his humor, but was strong when confronting his abuser with no uncertainty then.

“Who do you miss the most?”

Dream paused from fiddling with the leather of the book covers from the simple question. His hand began to curl around the thick material, and he drowned out Tommy’s rambling from behind him.

A familiar scent filled his senses, an old and precious memory uncovered from the oppressed depths of his mind. He pulled the book in hand open to a random, but intentional page, his callous fingers tracing over the stained ink.

He wasn’t an artist, and it easily would have been passed for messy, nonsense doodles, yet the drawing practically burned the paper as a reminder of his failed objectives.

The innocent azure bluets insulted him despite being his own creation.

Dream was done playing into Tommy’s confidence, and spoke lowly as his head turned further away from the boy.

“… I think you should go, Tommy."

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x reader #dream x you #dream x gn!reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dreamwastaken x gn!reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dsmp x reader #sleepysoupi 1.8k writing event

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startanewdream · 4 years ago

Note

Hiya, Mah! Please, if you feel like it, could you write something with: "9. “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”? For whichever ship you want to :)

Hi! 💓

For you I wrote a missing moment with my all-time favourite Sixth Year Pining Harry. Hope you enjoy this moment and thank you so much for joining this silly game :)

__________

Harry registers the heavy scent of flowers even before he notices it’s Ginny who sat next to him on the couch. He flinches, not wanting her to be so near him, though it’s all for the wrong reasons.

It’s really hard to pretend he isn’t crazy about her when she is so close, wonderful perfume in the air, so near that he wonders how it would be to turn towards her and see her eyes sparkling with a surprise for a second as he would lean even closer, and then Harry would close his eyes and…

She has a boyfriend, stop it. She is not interested.

That thought never makes his dreams go away, though.

‘Ugh,’ Ginny complains, pressing her temples and Harry almost offers to replace her hands. He could massage her, that would be a friendly thing, right? Not really, he admits. ‘I’m too sober for this.’

She frees one hand to indicate everything around her. Fred and George are sitting together at another couch, face troubled after being reprimanded by their father; Mrs Weasley is crying in the kitchen, her husband holding her; Bill and Fleur are close by the Christmas tree, and Harry thinks Fleur is being very accomplished in easing Bill’s worries, so he turns his eyes away quickly.

Harry isn’t sure what’s upsetting Ginny more, but he knows he is the reason Christmas spirit is so low.

‘You don’t even drink,’ he notices grimly.

‘Maybe I should start.’ She opens one eye. ‘Do you think Mum would notice if I went to the liquor cabinet?’

‘Do you have one?’

‘No, probably not. Or else Fred and George would have discovered it already.’

‘They are of age. I’m sure they can provide you with some firewhiskey.’

‘Harry, Harry.’ Now she opens both eyes, looking more relaxed as she watches him with something close to amusement. ‘Shouldn’t you be talking me out of my underage drinking?’

He can’t help his smile. ‘I know that the easiest way to convince you to do anything is to forbid you.’

Ginny laughs. It’s not her brightest laugh, not with the mood still sober in the house—the Minister’s visit weighted them all—, but it’s nice all the same and it warms Harry more than the eggnog he drank.

‘You know me too well, Harry.’

He looks away carefully now. He noticed her, all right, but he doesn’t want her to see how much. It’s certainly more than reasonable for friends.

‘Better than most,’ she adds, somewhat heavier now, and Harry watches her again. Ginny is looking at the lights of the Christmas tree thoughtfully, seeming to even ignore her brother snogging her fiance next to it.

‘Got a problem?’

She blinks, snapping out of something. ‘Problem? No, I—’ she shakes her head. ‘Never mind, today was just a mess.’

‘I know. I’m really sorry.’

Ginny frowns. ‘Sorry for what?’

Harry sighs, glancing guiltily in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Well, Percy and the Minister—’

‘No one forced Percy to be a git, Harry,’ she says, somewhat more like herself suddenly. ‘He came here as the Minister’s lapdog because he wanted to.’

‘If it weren’t for me, he would still—’

‘Still be blissfully ignorant that You-Know-Who returned?’ she asks forcefully. ‘Find another stupid reason to betray his family?’

‘Yes,’ he agrees, sad. ‘But it wouldn’t be me.’

She shakes her head. ‘Stop it. Really. It’s his choices, and you’re not responsible for them.’

Harry doesn’t answer, stealing another glance to the kitchen. He can hear a sniffle coming from there.

‘No one blames you, Harry, especially not Mum.’

He looks back at her, almost smiling. ‘Sometimes it's like you are reading my mind.'

And then he wonders if it wouldn't just be easy if that was the case; if Ginny could just see how he feels about her, how she is so bright and how much... How much she visits his dreams.

Maybe it's good she can't read him that well.

'I know you too,' she answers calmly. 'If you are not blaming yourself for something, you call it a bad day.'

'I can not blame myself… some days.'

She raises her fist, holding an imaginary cup.

'To only blaming yourself for things that are under your control,' Ginny declares, and Harry toasts playfully with her.

Ginny blinks, taking a deep breath, then she picks up a book that was standing on the coffee table in front of them, flipping through it. Harry notices all pages are blank.

'It's a sketchbook,' she says, knowing he is looking. 'Dean gave me for Christmas.'

'Oh.' A weight drops in his stomach, unpleasant. 'Nice.'

'Yeah, I told him I wished I could draw like him and he thought I could begin…'

She looks a little troubled at the book and Harry suddenly knows what's on her mind.

'It's just a sketchbook. Nothing else.'

'I… I know.' Ginny sighs. 'Blame ourselves only for what we can control, right?'

'Right.' He smiles. As jealous as he feels about Dean giving her a Christmas gift, he decides that making her feel better is more important. 'What are you going to draw?'

Ginny grins as if unable to resist his joyfulness. 'Oh, I don't know. Nothing probably. When I said I wished I could draw like him it was more wishful thinking, not that I really wanted to do it. I am no artist.'

Harry indicates the room, so bright with the paper decoration she had spent hours doing. 'I don't know, decoration is stylish here.'

'Thanks,' she laughs, not really taking him seriously. 'Well, I can't draw still. I have no patience for it.'

'Then let's not draw.' He looks around until he finds a quill and ink. 'Doodle. Write a short story.'

'I could write a poem,' she says, just a really teasing, a blush coming to her cheeks.

Heat creeps upon his neck too.

'You are good with rhymes,' he whispers.

There is a moment of silence, and Harry feels Ginny's eyes over him as if she is trying to assess if he is messing with her or, somehow, really complimenting her for her valentine's card from years ago.

Again, he almost wishes she could read her mind.

Then she lets out a sigh, placing the quill over the first page of the sketchbook and drawing a grid. She draws a cross at the middle of it, watching the ink dry before offering him the quill.

'Your turn.'

Their hands brush when he goes to pick the quill and for a moment, three very short and very long seconds, their eyes meet. Maybe she can read his mind after all, because her eyes are sparkling, a blazing look on them, and she has to know how he feels about her because he is sure he is matching her gaze. The same longing, the same emotions, the same urge to just lean in and…

They blink at the same time. Harry draws the nought anywhere, not really paying attention, but Ginny ends up allowing a draw.

At the end of the game, she looks at their art, that silly game of noughts and crosses that is the only thing in the sketchbook, a satisfied smile on her lips as if that's the kind of thing she wants to fill those pages with.

Harry wonders if she wants to fill pages with him too.

'Another match?'

Harry can't refuse her.

__________

Please join me in this birthday special (asking for a prompt! Let me see your work too! 😍)

#hinny #harry and ginny #missing moment #harry feels really romantic when he is pining #pining harry #i wrote like that because i cant draw either #t: fanfiction #birthday prompts

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cooliogirl101 · 3 years ago

Note

so what happened with nana and shamal? are they a less intense version of gin and hisana? 🤔

The first time Shamal sets eyes on Nana Fujiwara, he is convinced he’s seen an angel. He takes in the warmth of her eyes, the silkiness of her hair, the way she smells like white tea and jasmine, and he leaps at her with welcoming arms, ready to embrace her and press himself against those soft, inviting curves.

He’s promptly enveloped in an enormous cloud of pepper spray. That basically sets the tone for the next two years of their relationship.

In general, Nana likes to think of herself as someone who gets along pretty well with people. She knows she has a bit of a temper, but she tries her best to keep it under control and to remain patient, calm, and understanding.

That all goes out the window when it comes to Trident Shamal.

There are a lot of things about Shamal that she hates. She hates the way he leers at and chases after every girl he finds attractive. She hates his stupid, perverted grin and she hates the stupid, dopey look he gets on his face every time she sees him, and she hates his stupid, fucking ridiculous rule about ‘not treating men.’

Most of all though, she hates how he gets away with it. How every single member of the administration simply laughs it off, telling her it’s “just some harmless flirting, don’t worry about it.” One professor tells her she should be flattered and she almost commits homicide right then and there.

Then to top everything off, she can’t even avoid him because as the top two members of their class, they always end up getting paired together for projects, which was...just typical.

Honestly, Nana thinks the fact that she hasn’t killed him yet is an enormous testament to her self control. She could probably put that on her resume under ‘special skills’-- has refrained from murdering classmate (was there a word for that? Classmate-cide? Peer-tricide?) despite being given literally hundreds of reasons to do so.

Not to say she hasn’t imagined doing so. Vividly. She ended up doodling so many scenarios that she had to get a second notebook.

Any other day, and Shamal would have been thrilled to have Nana Fujiwara, the loveliest, prettiest, most adorable girl in his class, knocking on his door. Any other day and he would’ve been more than happy to wax poetic about her beautiful smile, her fiery personality, her large, doe-like eyes, the soft curve to those plump, inviting lips, the-- well, the list goes on.

Right now however, he hadn’t showered in three (or was it four?) days, he was drenched in his own sweat, he was running a fever of 39.5 C, his head was throbbing painfully, everything hurt, and to top everything off, the room smelled strongly of vomit.

“Shamal, I know you’re in there! Open up!” Shamal groaned miserably, covering his eyes with one arm as the pounding at the door caused his headache to go from ‘someone trying to drive an iron spike through my head’ to ‘iron spike is now on fire and accompanied by a hundred tiny hammers, please kill me now.’

“Goddammit Shamal, you were supposed to send me the draft of your half of the project three days ago! Open the door!” Nana continued to shout through the door. “I swear to god, if you don’t open up, I will kick your door down, don’t think I won’t--oh.”

Nana blinked, irritated scowl melting away at the sight of his appearance. She frowned, a touch of concern creeping into her expression.

“Are you...okay?” She asked hesitantly. It was the first time he’d heard Nana Fujiwara sound hesitant and Shamal hated it.

Summoning up whatever last reserves of strength he had left, Shamal put on his best flirtatious grin, eyes curving up into crescents.

“Aww, you don’t have to be worried about me, beautiful!” He cooed, then clenched his teeth as he felt his stomach swoop nauseatingly. “I’ll be fine, just had a lil’ too much to drink last night.” He leaned casually against the doorframe, which had the added benefit of keeping him mostly upright. “I just need to sleep it off and then--”

“Yeah no, you’re clearly not okay. Stupid question,” Nana murmured, clearly ignoring everything he’d just said. She stepped closer, placing a hand against his forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up. Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No!” He shouted. Nana flinched, startled, and Shamal cursed under his breath. He hadn’t meant to do that.

“No,” he repeated, calmer this time. “No hospitals. I’ll be fine.”

“Shamal--” Nana began.

“They won’t be able to do anything,” he interrupted. “I’ve been through this before, I know how it goes. I just need to wait it out.” He swallowed. “Going to a hospital won’t help. Please, Nana, I--”

He suddenly doubled over, retching violently the rest of his words disappearing under a river of vomit. Shamal had just enough time to see Nana’s eyes widen before he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

Shamal woke up to gentle hands dabbing at his face with a cool washcloth, the pleasant scent of white tea and jasmine, a familiar voice murmuring soft reassurances in his ear.

“Shhh, you’re okay. It’s just me,” the voice whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

“Nana?” Shamal asked, fighting to stay awake. “You stayed.”

There was a pause.

“Yeah,” she said finally. “Yeah. I stayed.”

Honestly, Nana had no idea what possessed her to actually listen to her obviously sick, half-delirious, idiot classmate instead of doing the reasonable thing, which would’ve been to dump him at the nearest hospital.

Maybe it was the fact that he’d actually called her by her name for once, instead of some stupid pet name. Maybe it was the fact that she knew firsthand how miserable hospitals could be and could sympathize with his desire to avoid them at all cost. Or maybe it was the fact that she recognized the tone of voice he’d used when he’d told her that there was nothing the doctors could do to help him-- the kind of resigned certainty that could only come from experience, of having your hopes dashed over and over. It was a tone of voice she was well acquainted with.

(“I’m sorry Christina, there’s nothing more we can do.”)

It could have been any one of those reasons, or all three of them. She tried not to think too much about it.

It took another two days before Shamal’s fever started coming down and three before he started sounding halfway coherent again. On the fourth, she found him sitting in bed with his breakfast untouched on the nightstand next to him.

“Is something wrong?” Nana asked, frowning. “Are you feeling nauseous again?” When he shook his head, she continued, “I can make something else if you don’t like--”

“Why?” Shamal interrupted.

“Why what?” Nana asked, puzzled. “Why did I make eggs? I was looking up things that are good to eat when you’re sick and I came across a recipe for Chinese steamed eggs. I wish I knew about this before, I mean like it provides protein but it’s soft like a custard so you don’t have to chew much and--”

“No, why-- why do all this? Why go to this much trouble for me?” Shamal demanded, gesturing wildly with his hands. “The cooking, and the-- the washing, and you even cleaned up my apartment, and I don’t-- I don’t understand why--”

“Well, what was I supposed to do, just leave your unconscious body lying there on Death’s front doorstep?” Nana asked uncomprehendingly.

“I threw up on you!” Shamal snapped, sounding mortified.

“Yeah, you aren’t the first person to throw up on me, and you won’t be the last,” she responded dryly. “I’d be in the wrong line of work if I let a little vomit get to me.”

When he still refused to meet her eyes, she sighed.

“Look Shamal, I may not like you-- actually, I can’t stand you-- but that doesn’t mean I want you to suffer like this. You don’t deserve that, no one deserves that.”

No one deserved to feel like their body was failing them. Nana swallowed, forcing her voice to remain steady.

“I was in a position to help, and so I did,” she said quietly. “It’s as simple as that.”

“...as simple as that,” Shamal echoed. “You truly mean that, don’t you? No favors, no debts, just--” He laughed, a little disbelievingly. “You’d go above and beyond the call of duty even for those you hate, just because it was the right thing to do.” He shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. “You really are something else, Nana Fujiwara.”

Nana glanced away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. She wasn’t sure if he was just acting weird due to the lingering fever, or-- or dizziness from missing breakfast, but something about the way he was looking at her in that moment--

“I should take your temperature again, it’s been over eight hours since I last checked it,” she said abruptly. “I think I left the thermometer in the other room, wait here.” She marched off and tried to ignore how it felt like running away. “Eat your eggs.”

#would really love to hear what you guys think of this relationship dynamic!#solar flame au #wtl!au

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

Text

Perfect

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: After much research and seeking out advice from Tony, Loki asks you on a date. Warnings: dialogue heavy and an adorably awkward Loki A/N: Thank you for requesting @akhansen2800! I hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The common room was a mess, thanks to the trickster god. There was paper and books littered all over the floor. Not to mention bits and pieces from the computer he may or may not have smashed against the ground. It really was hardly his fault, though; it was the insipid machine that dared defy him.

“Woah, Reindeer Games,” Tony said, walking in, sidestepping the junk on the ground. “Did a tornado hit or something?”

“Oh, very funny, Stark. If you ask me, it is an improvement over this drab decor you have picked,” Loki quipped, eyes never leaving the page he was reading.

“No, how could you! My heart, it can’t take this,” Tony overdramatically gasped, flopping on top of the papers strewn on the couch. “Goodbye, cruel world.”

“Your theatrics never cease to amaze me,” Loki sighed, finally looking up at the man he’d come to call friend. “And that says a lot, coming from me.”

“You’re right, it’s high praise.” Tony picked up one of the papers he’d crinkled from laying on top of. “What is all this, anyway?”

Just because Loki considered Tony a friend, didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to say what he was doing. He was still a rather closed off person and, in all honesty, preferred to avoid any and all talks about his emotions. Which, of course, brings him right back to why he’s sitting in the middle of this mess, anyway. His emotions, which, despite his best efforts, he did still have.

Loki stood up and stretched his muscles, achy from being hunched over his reading material for so long. He snatched away the page Tony was perusing, only for him to grab another one to skim. Realizing any effort to keep confiscating the papers one at a time would be fruitless, Loki moved it all to his room with a snap of his fingers. Then he sat next to his companion and began wringing his hands in that awful nervous tic of his. Truth be told, he could use some advice, but that only brought him back to square one of having to talk about his feelings. Tony leaned back on the couch while patiently awaiting Loki’s answer.

“I was doing some research,” Loki finally admitted. “On some Midgardian things.”

“That’s cute, Reindeer, but you could just ask me. Or maybe Peter if it's a pop culture thing.”

“It is not.” Loki wondered how much he could beat around the bush before he either had to give up on the conversation or genuinely say what was wrong. “It is just something I am not entirely sure how to go about.”

“I’m great at giving advice.”

“No, you are not,” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Sure I am!” Tony exclaimed, feigning hurt. “How would you know, anyway? You’ve never actually asked me for any.”

“Maybe not, but I have seen the way you live your own life, Stark.”

“That’s entirely different,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Come on, give me a chance. Fire away, I’m ready.”

Loki merely rolled his eyes again, though he was actually considering it. He hated to admit it—he really hated to admit it—but Tony had become somewhat of a father figure to him. That was absolutely ridiculous, of course, considering how Loki was a thousand years older than the man. But after his childhood, he’d be silly to reject that kind of relationship. Loki supposed that if he had to go to anyone with this problem, Tony wasn’t a terrible option. Besides, he should probably let himself be emotionally vulnerable very once in a while, right? That was supposed to be good or something, he thought. So, he steeled himself, and told Tony his issue.

“There is this Midgardian that I know. They are very sweet and kind and perfect... I mean, they are as bearable as a Midgardian can be,” Loki covered up, blushing slightly from how much he had just revealed. “I would like to ask them to spend some time with me, but I am not sure how.”

“Awww, you have a crush,” Tony cooed. “How sweet. You want to ask them out.”

“No,” Loki protested, stubborn as ever. Tony just raised his eyebrows at him. “Ok, fine! Yes, I would like to take them on a date, but I am dreadfully lacking in knowledge on Midgardian dating etiquette.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” Tony grinned. “Oh and take notes.”

And so, Loki spent the next two and a half hours listening to Tony ramble on. Most of it was just him going on rather useless tangents about his own endeavors in love. The God of Mischief rolled his eyes so many times, he began to fear they might roll out of his head. His notes, at least, were pretty amusing. Ok, to call them notes may be a little generous. They were mainly silly doodles of Tony monologuing, with the few helpful things he said jotted in the margins. He got so invested in one of his little caricatures that he didn’t even notice Tony stopped speaking.

“Hey, that’s not what I look like,” Tony pouted, peering at the drawing.

“Well nothing you were saying was helping, Stark.” Loki put the note pad in one of his dimensional pockets. “I am not like you. I am not a flashy person when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Oh, so you want to go the be yourself way. You know, the sappy speeches and flowers and chocolates direction.”

Loki perked up a bit. “Yes. Yes, that sounds splendid.”

Tony sighed and gave Loki a list of movies to watch. And told him to speak from the heart. That troubled Loki; no one ever really cared to listen to him speak before. But, he dutifully watched all the assigned movies, supplemented by some of the books he was still combing through.

After a week of preparation and many, many drafts of a speech to say to you, Loki was finally ready to ask you out. Donning his best Midgardian suit, he walked out of his room, greeted by a bright flash of light. Tony was standing there, camera in hand.

“Look, at my little boy,” he fake cried. “All grown up.”

“Stark, will your antics ever stop?” Loki looked at the camera out of the corner of his eye. “And delete that photo, I was not ready.”

“Nope. It’s payback for all those unflattering doodles. Now, go get ‘em, Reindeer. Remember: Just be yourself.”

Easier said than done, Loki thought as he called upon his seiðr, teleporting to your street. You were an employee at Stark Tower; that’s how the two of you met. Loki had been looking for his brother, his search taking him into the cafeteria, one of his least favorite places in the whole building. It was always too loud and populated for someone who liked his silence and solitude. The sheer number of people in the room was overwhelming to the god that day, but he needed to speak with Thor, and he’d searched just about every other place his brother could be. He could not spot him in the crowd, but his eyes landed on you, off near a corner at a table alone and reading a book. He cast one last nervous look around the room before heading towards where you were, his social anxiety kicking in.

“Hello,” he said after clearing his throat.

You looked up at him with a dreamy sort of gleam in your eye that revealed how enchanted you’d been with your book. It gave Loki a little boost of confidence to know that that happened to you, too. That you could get so lost in a story that the world around you disappeared. It calmed his racing heart a little.

“Oh uh, hi,” you greeted with a chipper smile. Then more nervously, added, “It’s Loki, right?”

“Yes, that is correct. Loki of Asgard, pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, sweeping into a small bow. “And you are?”

You told him his name, extending your hand for a shake. “How can I help you?”

“I am looking for my brother, but I cannot find him. You have not seen him around, have you?”

“I actually did see him earlier, though I’m not sure- Wait!” you suddenly exclaimed, and Loki followed your gaze. “He’s over there.”

Loki gulped. Of course his brother was at the table in the center of the room, surrounded by people. He really needed to talk to him about a mission, but the thought of going over there was making his stomach feel queasy. He tried to take a step forward, but his feet were apparently glued to the floor.

“Hey, if you’re nervous about going over there, I get it. Crowds can be scary,” you said, picking up on his subtle fidgeting. “The room usually clears out significantly in about ten minutes from now. I, um, was going to that little cafe over in the corner and get some tea or coffee, if you want to come.” Loki stared at you for a moment, unused to being invited places, especially by mortals he did not know. You seemed to mistake his silence, though, and rushed to assure him he didn’t have to. “Sorry, that was probably stupid. You’re under no obligation to say yes, of course. I understand.”

“No! I mean, yes.” He sighed and mentally smacked himself. Ever since moving to Midgard, his silver tongue was not what it used to be around strangers. “I mean, no that is not stupid, and yes, I would like to go to that cafe with you.”

And go to that cafe you did, launching into an animated conversation about reading. Loki even made you laugh, which felt like a huge accomplishment to him. The both of you sat back down at your table with your warm drinks, still chatting. There were very few people Loki ever felt so relaxed with, especially so soon after meeting them. You didn’t talk about anything groundbreaking, but he enjoyed talking to a kindred spirit. Somehow you even got a smile tugging at his lips, getting wider by the minute.

True to what you’d said, the room noticeably emptied nearly ten minutes later. With only a few people left and after such an amazing conversation, Loki was sure he could go grab his brother out of the room. But that was the problem; the conversation was too amazing, and he didn’t want it to end. And it seemed you didn’t either.

“Hey, um, maybe this is weird, but do you maybe want to talk again sometime? Like if you ever need a friend or are bored or anything?” you ventured.

“I would love that,” he genuinely replied.

You quickly wrote down your number and, after double and triple checking it, handed it to him. He tucked it safely away in one of his inner pockets before getting up and you bidding you goodbye. Then, in a better mood than he’d been in in a long time, Loki waltzed over to Thor’s table and successfully extracted him from the few people still clinging to his every word. He glanced back at you one last time before exiting, and you gave him a small, somewhat shy wave. He returned it along with a smile.

Loki kept that all in his heart as he walked up to your door, finger hovering by the bell for a minute. Maybe this was silly. No, this was definitely ridiculous. But, if he stood here any longer, your neighbors would probably think he was some crazy person.

Really, he shouldn’t be so nervous. You talked all the time since that day of your first meeting, and you’d never seemed bothered by him before. Not even when he started bringing surprise morning coffees to your desk. Or when he started leaving you books he thought you might like. Or when he started giving you little hugs when you seemed down. In fact, you seemed touched by all that. But this was all so new to him, so different from anything he’d known before. What if he was reading it all wrong? Before he could talk himself out if it, he rang the bell.

He heard you shout that you were coming in response. He quickly adjusted his tie and then stood with the flowers hidden behind his back. He made sure to get a bouquet of your favorites. You opened the door and your mouth made an adorable little “o” of surprise before your lips formed a sweet smile.

“Loki!” you greeted, smoothing down your sweatshirt. “I wasn’t expecting you. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s great to see you. Um, do you want to come in? The place is kind of a mess right now, but-”

Loki whipped out the flowers from behind him, making you cut out in surprise. He stared at his feet and nervously mumbled, “These are for you.”

“Loki, these are so beautiful. This is so sweet. Thank you.” You gave him one of those shy smiles that he loved so much. “I feel bad, I don’t have anything for you.”

“That is quite alright. I have come here to ask you something.”

“Oh! Ok. I’m all ears.”

Loki smiled at the Midgardian expression, calming him a little. “We have been friends for some time now, and I have thoroughly enjoyed every minute—nay, every second—I have spent with you. You are the most kindhearted being I have ever met, beautiful both inside and out. And thus, I find myself wanting something more than friendship, if you will allow it. My dear, sweet, darling little mortal, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

“Oh, Loki,” you breathed. “That was beautiful. I would absolutely love to go on a date with you.”

He cheered on the inside, and you hugged him close. After you pulled away, the two of you stood there for a minute, smiling like dorks. It seemed to Loki that no matter how badly he wanted to say something else, the only thought occupying his brain was that you said yes. He could hardly believe you said yes.

“So, uh, what are we going to do on our date?” you sheepishly asked.

Loki’s face dropped. He couldn’t believe how foolish he was. “I do not know yet. I knew there was something I was forgetting. I am sorry, darling.”

“That’s ok, Loki,” you kindheartedly laughed. “Tell you what, there’s a bookstore with the most adorable little cafe in it, just a couple blocks from here. Why don’t we go there?”

“That sounds perfect,” he replied, his smile returning already. “How does tomorrow sound? I can come pick you up around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You stared at each for another minute, those same goofy grins that gave away how happy you were plastered on your faces. When Loki began to overthink how awkward he probably looked, he found it in himself to tear his eyes away from your beauty.

“So I shall see you tomorrow then,” he nervously said.

“Yup! See you then,” you replied, your nerves equaling his own.

After a quick hug and waving goodbye to each other, you parted ways. Soon, Loki was back home in the Tower, happily sprawled on the sofa, book in hand.

“Hey Reindeer Games,” Tony greeted. “So, how’d it go? Was I right, or was I right?”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, Stark, you were right.” Loki smiled to himself, already daydreaming about your date. “It was perfect.”

Loki found that after so much anxiety and uncertainness, there was finally one thing he knew; tomorrow was going to be perfect, too.

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years ago

Text

Soulmate Au

Before you meet your soulmate you have to deal with a chibi version of them before actually meeting them. So can you handle it?

Hawks point of view

A/n: finally I kicked the sloth aside and wrote this...

Soulmates weren't a good thing... that was at least what your mother told you.

Soulmates crushed your heart. Not all soulmates accept their own ones with kind hearts and cozy and loveable chibis... Your mother fell for your father, a loveable chibi who appeared in her life, everything was fine until... your birth.

Your father's chibi was cold and uncaring about the baby. The fruit of your mother's unconditional love from him. And with what he returned? Bullshit.

They got separated. They never once married, and the chibis ran away from their owner... never appearing again.

Your father and mother shared your custody even though you pass more time with your mother and the mom of your dad.

"I hope you never get a soulmate (Y/n)." Your mother spoke as she carresed your hair, hate evident on her words as she comforted your crying self due to some hurtful thing your father had said to you.

"W-why not mama?" You sniffled as she wiped your tears with a frown.

"They can hurt you as badly as some knife on your chest sweety. If you happen to have a soulmate, promise me you will not put your heart on their hands, dont give yourself away for the cuteness of some chibi. It may not be real."

That was when you started to have a fear towards the cute things...

You walked around your school, seing all of your classmates cheering or talking about their chibis. Some on their shoulders, others on the top of their heads...

You grimaced. You felt... left out. Despite your fear to getting one, how you wished to find your soulmate... just hoping that you didn't ended up like your mother... or worse, like him.

You had affection towards your dad for a while... but as the years passed by, you noticed how his "play" was more of hurtful words. The man only cared about himself and his money... yet you couldn't leave.

You felt like a bird on a cage.

Sighing, you sitted on a bench... alone. Picking your art supplies as you started to doodle on your notebook. You hummed a song while the pencil on your hand leaved trails of graffiti before smilling at the sound of birds chirping.

Something felt on your notebook then... you let out a confused sound at the thing.. a drop of some red fluid. You looked up and frowned before you went to brush your hair before gasping at noticing it was YOUR blood which had fell.

"W-What?!" You whimpered, now the pain starting to manifest as you hissed. It was like a knife had cutted your skin! And gosh, how it hurted...

Grabbing your things and rushing to the bathroom you didn't noticed something entering your backpack... you wiped at the blood and sighed.

"I will have to go to the enfermary... but what will I tell the nurse?! Suddenly this appeared?! Urgh!" You hitted your forehead in the mirror with closed eyes, opening them slowly after.

Seing a blond and feathered chibi looking up at you. Your eyes widened and blinked to confirm it was real before it squeaked at you. You screamed and dropped in your butt, crawling your way until your back hitted the wall of the bathroom.

The chibi squeaked. A worried sound as he flew, getting closer and closer to you as you trembled.

"S-Stay back-!" You grabbed a ruler that felt and pointed at him, making him stop on his flying as he arched one of his eyebrows and let out a giggle..

Sure, you would laugh as well if someone pointed a ruler to you as if it was a weapon...

"Stay back! Go to your owner or something!" You shouted before he furrowed his eyebrows again, smile fading as he flew and dropped inches awya from you. It came out a soft squeaked, and somehow you could just feel it was like a apology.

"I-Its okay. You just scared me appearing out of no where..." you hesitantly dropped the ruler back and hot on your knees, looking down at the chibi.

It had such messy hair... golden eyes, shining as bright as the sun, yet it carried a deep pain and some sorta of loneliness. You could certainly understand him...

"I'm sorry, did I scared you as well?" He shook his head as he pointed at his own cheek and squeaking at you. You touched the wound and got what he was supposed to say "I'm okay... didn't know where the heck I got from though..." you mumbled the last parts.

He squeaked at you again, opening his little wings and flying at the at the height of your eyes. Some little feather coming out and tickling your cheeks which you giggled a bit.

"So that's your quirk!" You giggled, the chibi letting out a yelp of glee of seing you smile as he did a black flip. "Okay okay, you're nice... Where are your soulmate though?" You tilted your head at it as he stopped and pointed at you.

Oh...

You caried it on the palms of your hands as if it was going to break it... get frowning at him for being so.... handsome and... too perfect.

Your mother's words echoed in your head as you entered your father's car and he drove you out of the school. He saw the chibi and started saying bullshit like "got a soulmate dolly? Heh!"

You ignored at his clearly fake smile and smiled at the chibi flying around your head and chirping and squealing. It reminded you of a bird!

Maybe... you could just trust your own soulmate?

"(L/n)-san!!! You are a life saver!" Your coworker moaned while holding onto the table as you finished your drawing.

"Sure."you giggled before signing it. Waiting a few minutes before you saw the puppy slowly coming out of the paper and jumping at the floor, shaking and barking cutely at your coworkers.

You snorted at hearing the sound of tiny hands clapping inside your jacket pocket. Birdbrain. The chibi always encouraging you of using your quirk.

"Thank you so much! My nephew then will get some ideas on what kind of dog he will want!" Your coworker chuckled at the puppy licking their cheek.

"It will be like this for at least four hours, but then they will return to the paper. Dont forget." You warned, allowing your birdbrain to flee as free as he wanted out of your pocket.

You smiled at him, opening your hand for him to sit on it. Such an ass, your soulmate was surely one of the most laziest man around.

It had passed years since he appeared on the bathroom for you. Yet you felt your guts twist in anxiety at only the thought of getting to know the actual male that was your soulmate...

Words of your mother ringed in your earbuds each time and your relationship with your father was no better than before. Now aparently he was trying to rebuild only because he knows he is getting old and needs help...

A strong crashing and sound of people shouting and crying made you break out of your thoughts. It all happened so fast. Endeavour, the top one hero crashed your window and if it wasn't for your chibi you squeaking loudly and pushing you out of the way you were going to get hitted.

A voice from another hero came up and for some reason the feathers of your chibi ruffled up as he widened his gold eyes up before you rushed out of the building along with him.

:we have to get out of here before this collapse on us!" You shouted as bird squeaked along as you helped some coworkers of yours along the way to get out.

You didn't stay up to watch the fight... you just wanted to get out and go home to where it was safe.

Yet your chibi completely disagree with that as he squeaked, flapped his wings... heck, even threw a chicken wing at your head.

Your birdbrain NEVER would throw a chicken wing away. Never. You come to notice his love for nuggets and other chicken related things like that at a young age, joking about him being a canibal.

You had enough when he just flew past your head when you were going to eat and pushe dyour head while pointing at the winfown

"Fine! You won!" You shouted, glaring at him when he made an action whose was almost shouting hallelujah, before getting out and him flying behind you.

The night was quite beautiful as you and your chibi walked, him rested on your shoulder as he smiled at looking at you.

It was peaceful before he jumped on his feet, his little wings wide open as his feathers ruffle up. Eyes sharp as a Hawk.

"You're okay? Birdy?" You asked in worry before gasping when he just flew like the speed of light away from you.

"BIRDY!" you shouted, running after him on the path of the park.

Shit! If you lost your chibi then you would never get to meet your soulmate! Tears started to form on your eyes as you searched for your chibi oi the dark of the night.

If you werent so anxious and stupid! You could meet your soulmate even if it wasn't for this stupid fear of having a relationship like your mom had!

Suddenly your heard distant squeaking, recognizing as you almost sobbed in relief and followed the sound. Noticing him flying back to you.

"You bird brain! How much did you wanted to-... to.." you stopped talking immediatly when you saw a tony version of you on his arms, smiling and cuddling up to his chest like it knew him for ages..

You blinked before hearing footsteps coming closer, and when you looked past the chibis your heart jumped before being shooted by an arrow.

The man in front of you, was no other than the actual version of your chibi. The number 2 ranking from the heroes. The man whose was know for being way too fast....

"H-Hawks..." you greeted shakily, not quite believing yet. Sure, your chibi reminded you of Hawks a lot, but... it seemed yet more intimate. More clingy and desperate for affection and actual love... You just put in your head that it was another man, with a similiar quirk and appearance as him.

Well, you were wrong. Hawks was indeed your soulmate.

He let out a chuckle at your gretting. His wide eyes and shock washed away with relief, smugness and... love, actual love on his eyes.

"Since we're soulmates, I guess you should at least call me Keigo..." he mused with a smile, taking his visor off to take a good look at you, frowning when his eyes were at the aim of the scar you had... the one whose mysteriously appeared on your skin many years ago before meeting your chibi.

"How long do you have this?" He asked, you felt your cheeks warming in self conscious at it. You never actually cared when other people asked but with him was another story...

"Since my childhood I guess... It was out of no where." You mumbled in embarrassment yet with a smile, praying mentally taht he take your mumble as a joke.

You widened your eyes when his hold brought you closer to him before he touched his forehead with yours, lovingly golden orbs staring at you with care and not a piece of judgement inside them.

"I like it chickadee." You snorted before a series of giggles escaped your lips at this, hounding quite hilarious that you also named your chibi something bird related.

"Chickadee? Really?" You asked breathless as he let out a raspy chuckle.

"Well, you did called the little fella over there birdbrain. Guess we're mates for life..." he mused with his husky voice as the chibis prefered to watch from afar on a nearby tree.

You smiled at him... somehow.. You just knew it this relationship with him was going to work. You were going to be, as he said, mates for life.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bnha heroes x reader #bnha fanfiction #hawks #takami keigo #bnha x reader #zuffer writings

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

Text

tis the damn season

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: none

a/n: this is the end and i’ll need therapy because dear god i hate it when any of my projects end. thank you so much for supporting it and reading. hope you enjoy xx

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me but if it's all the same to you it's the same to me ...

There was a sea of people, suitcases rolling everywhere, people hugging their loved ones and there she was, straight out of the airplane holding her worn out, beat up suitcase with her name tag on it. It was a cold day, one of those that reminded her of being by the window with her mother doodling on the fogged glass as the snow laid on the green grass of her childhood home yet there was no snow, just cold. She knew to walk through the doors that led to the arrivals but she stood back, almost as if the cold froze her to her spot. Returning to her hometown meant looking at the road not taken before, the road she couldn’t have taken. Nevertheless, in the midst of chaos of people coming back home for the holidays, she ended up being almost dragged into the arrivals hall.

Immediately she spotted Wanda and Pietro dressed in thick winter coats and hats who were holding a sign with her name. She put on her best photographic smile, walking over to the twins who rushed over to hug her tightly, something she missed dearly when she was away.

- Finally! - the brown haired girl hugged her best friend tightly. - You can never leave me again for this long.

- It’s only for a few weeks, Wan.

- Let me savour it. - she loosened up the hug, handing Y/N’s bags to Pietro who just shrugged off and started walking to the car. - I have so much to tell you. Remember Elizabeth, the girl I copied off for Maths? Well, she got married but she had a baby like 5 months later which doesn’t adds up.

- Shotgun wedding. - Pietro added. - It was so tacky, absolutely awful. I fell asleep for at least five hours.

- Very good gift bags though. I took an extra one for you.

The three walked onto the cold town she thought she’d never have the change to return to. The moment she woke up from what she thought was certain death, her father and the chief of police were already telling her they had set up a witness protection program for her, all the way in Massachusetts. It was nice, she liked the weather, the warm fall colours during October but she didn’t felt at home. She had a new name, new story, in this one she didn’t even have her father not that in reality she ever did. She sat in the passenger seat of Wanda’s car, listening to all the news she seemed to have kept locked inside her mind for when she returned. Her mind as going haywire about what she wanted to know about, she wanted to know about Bucky.

She knew he couldn’t be happy if he had discovered it which she guessed by now he had. Several times her father had told her he’d employed several men to try and find her and had even told her to stay away until Christmas. Of course the only reason he wanted her around was so she could drive him from the bar after he drank his weight in beer but she couldn’t help but do it, she promised her mum she would take care of her dad no matter what happened. Yet, she still wanted to know about Bucky. She wanted to know if he hated her, if he had put a hit on her head. It kept her awake at night, every night, bugging her like a bad memory.

- Are you sure you wanna stay at your dad’s? You can stay with me and Vision.

- Of course she doesn’t want to stay with you. What kind of name is Vision anyway? - Pietro rolled his eyes.

- HIS PARENTS WERE HIPPIES. We’ve had this discussion. - Wanda playfully threw a empty water bottle at his brother. - Don’t you want to spend Christmas with someone who will actually be in the house during Christmas?

- I promised my mother, Wan.

- C’mon. If it’s because me and Vision will be there, there’s no problem. Remember Michael? He still wants to go out with you.

- I don’t want to go out with him.

- Yeah, Wanda. Y/N liked James Barnes. - Pietro muffled in a laugh, receiving a death glare from his sister. - What? It’s true.

- Y/N does not like someone who wants her dead. Don’t you remember when one of his friends was on campus and he had a gun?

- What? It’s just like Mr and Mrs Smith and for one, it’s something I’m interested in. Good for her.

- What about you, Pietro? Where’s your girlfriend? - Y/N smirked, crossing her arms as Wanda parked in front of Y/N’s childhood home.

- Which one?

- You’re a lost cause. - she opened the passenger’s door, going around to retrieve her suitcase.

- Call me if you’re alone during Christmas or Christmas Eve. Vision and I will come and set up a dinner with you.

- It won’t be necessary.

- Just call me, okay?

- Okay, Wan. I’ll see you tomorrow.

The red head smiled before driving away. Y/N stood on the cobblestones of her sidewalk waving goodbye before it was time to go meet her father. Her relationship with him was at best strained. When they didn’t find the shipment they wanted, he subconsciously blamed her along with constantly talking about how Edward could’ve died but he was luckily alive with a limp. She wished he had more than a limp but saying anything against his ward was absurd and completely forbidden. She was almost sure he’d spend more time at the hospital with him than her. Nevertheless, she was here and as she stepped into her porch, there were no Christmas lights, no garlands.

Flashbacks invaded her mind of sitting on the wooden stairs as her mother wrapped every surface she could in garland, wrapping the lights around the columns while her dad worked overtime. The two would then sit on the stairs with cups of hot cocoa, Y/N always preferring white chocolate hot cocoa with pink marshmallows and watched the lights go up for the first time. Every year she expected there to be lights after her mum was gone but they never showed. One year she tried to put them up but she soon came to realise the lights that held whatever sweet memories an object could hold were lost and gone. Everything was gone. She didn’t know why she expect it to be here.

Her keys jiggled as she opened the door to her childhood home. It was always messy, dusty, her mother’s yellow coat still hanging on the coat hanger the day she returned from the hospital. The house was a snapshot of that day, never changing, her father didn’t allow her. She knew why, she always knew why, she just refused to say it, she refused to say whom her father believed was the cause of her mother’s death. She refused to say it because she knew who it was and it wasn’t who her father thought it was.

- Dad? - she left her suitcase against the entry wall, walking further into her house and into the kitchen, liquor bottles on the floor near the chair were her father was sitting, still in his uniform, shirt tightened over his beer belly. - Hey dad, how are you?

- Y/N, darling, can you get some some of the liquor from the cabinet?

- Sure, dad. - she turned around, reaching into the cabinet, right at the end of it where she kept a bottle with water which tricked him all the time. - How’s the precinct?

- I think you know.

- You shouldn’t make catching him your target. Your target should be to protect innocent civilians.

- What would you know about it? You failed us.

- I’m sorry. - she looked down at her shoes. - You know ... I smell snow.

- You can’t smell snow, Y/N. There’s no such thing.

- C’mon... - she held his hands in hers. - We can make some hot cocoa, like mum used to do.

- Your mother would’ve been ashamed of you. - she shook his hands away from her, pointing his finger at her. - You caused another officer to get shot, you have no integrity. I shouldn’t have put you in the case.

- I didn’t. - she took a step back. - I told you I didn’t and you don’t believe me. Barnes didn’t try to shot me and Edward stepped in, you saw the report, the bullets don’t match up. He tried to shot at Barnes.

- He’s the most experienced shot I know, if he wanted to have gotten Barnes, he would’ve.

- He would’ve if I hadn’t stepped in front of it.

She turned around, tears watering her eyes and making her vision blurry as she walked further an further away. She kept walking, away from her house, away from her street until she was the furthest from it she could. The wind blasted her hair in different direction, freezing through her thin, useless jackets. She could smell it was going to snow, she could always smell it, the smell of freshly fallen and there she was, having forgotten her jacket. It was late into the night, no establishment was open and all she could wear were her boots against the slight frozen layer upon the cobblestones. She should feel hurt but she found herself in a numbness of state, the image of waking up in a hospital room all by herself much clear in her mind. She continued to walk until a purple light lit up her face.

She looked upwards, the title of the old establishment she used to work in blasted into purple light. Now, she was a rational being, a true believer of think before you act but she was cold and seemingly no longer held fear of her own death. Life is ephemeral and if she was meant to die, if fate was a thing then let it be. She went through the bodyguards entering the club that despite being almost Christmas Eve was filled with people.

Meanwhile James was leaning against one of his club’s walls, cigarette hanging from his lips. Filthy habit he knew, but he did it when he stressed. It soothed him, yet it seemed like all self destroying things soothed him. His eyes lingered against the empire he had built which now seemed so stupid. All material things and a few kills to remember him by when he died. He wondered if they would even remember or if when he breathe his last breathe, he’d be erased as quickly as he came to be. No one remembers what came in between and James did not create the business, he just perfected it. Nothing surprised this old dog anymore until tonight. He thought his brain was playing tricks on him as he saw her pass through the doors, hair covered in a knitted hat yet as quickly as he saw her enter, the quicker he saw her leave.

- Steve, follow her. - he immediately told the blonde who was happily chatting with his newly wedded bride. - Tell me where she stops. You better not lose her out sight or you won’t have any children.

Y/N was fast out, the moment she felt the warmth of the club. She no longer knew what she was doing, much too lost in whatever pain mixed with unresolved feelings she had. Nevertheless, she was out, and immediately calling Wanda. She was out on a date but offered to stay at her house and that was enough. She needed to sleep, consider what she was doing here and then return to Massachusetts. She could get used to being Elizabeth, the orphan girl who went to Harvard. She could be Betty, she could be someone on paper. She just didn’t know how to be Y/N anymore. She had to go back.

Wanda’s new place wasn’t thankfully too far and per usual she hide the key behind her petunia vase. Inside it looked exactly like what she believed her best friend’s dream home looked like but she deserved it. She deserved Vision, she deserved all this happiness and she wished she could stay behind and watch it.

She stripped out of her frosted clothes, walking into the bathroom to take a warm shower. “It’s no use dwelling on the past, sweetheart. It’s already gone.” her mother used to tell her and she guessed she was right, what use was it for her to wonder what if? There was no what if. She was a dead woman if he knew, but Y/N was already dead even if she didn’t. The last name ended with her, the genetic tree of her ancestors ended with her and she guessed it fit, destroyer of trees and blood.

She felt the warm water drip down her body and onto the porcelain floor of the shower, the foam making the air smell like wild daisies on a summer afternoon. It felt warm, it felt nice, thoughtless, to be only the essence of life without the obligation of thought. Just seeing, living, greatly dissolving into the fabric of nature. Stepping out of the shower, thought evaded. She was expecting to see him, to look at him one last time before she was gone. Yet again, what use was to look into someone who’d she betrayed? It was no use.

She involved herself in the white fluffy towel, walking into the kitchen to rummage through whatever Wanda and Vision had. Wanda was always a fun of tropical fruit so she knew she probably kept something yummy for her.

- You’ve always toyed with probability, petal. - she turned around once she head that voice, heart clenched yet beating faster at the same time. - It is very dangerous for you and for you friend. Easy lock, windows open.

- If you’re going to do it, please do it outside where we won’t stain my friend’s apartment.

- Oh petal ... - he took the gun from the holster which was always close to his legs. She had been shot before, she didn’t feel it, it didn’t hurt. She closed her eyes, waiting for the sound but the only sound that came was his gun hitting the floor. She opened her sides, watching as he slide the gun over to her, it reaching her feet. - I thought we were done with you being afraid of me.

- James ...

- Bucky. - he corrected her, still standing on the opposite side of the room. She stood there motionless but he started walking up to her. - You think I want to kill you.

- The worse thing I have ever did was what I did to you. Besides, Wanda saw one of your friends on campus with a gun.

- We always carry guns, petal. The question is what have you done to me?

- I’ve betrayed you.

- Have you? Because I don’t remember my shipment being intercepted not that it would, I lied to you.

- You lied to me?

- I never doubted your ... your affections towards me but I did doubt your loyalty to your father. I was surprised.

- Were you?

- No, I lied. What I was surprised about what that you took a bullet meant for me. What the fuck were you thinking? You could’ve died.

- I don’t know.

- You ran away from me. I wanted ... I ...

- What did you want, Bucky? - she cocked her head to the side, examining him and whatever his thoughts were doing to him.

- I wanted you. I wanted to have been by your side when you took a bullet for me, I wanted you in my bed, not in my bar I hate watching other men ogle you. I wanted you to marry me and carry my child. I wanted to give you everything I have and some more, all of what I have and all of what I don’t have. I wanted you, the captain’s daughter. I adored you.

- You don’t know me.

- I know you. You’re a terrible liar, can’t lie to save your life. Your heart ... - he stepped closer and closer to her. - Is on your sleeve. You might not know who you are or you might forget it but when you do remember I control everything but you control me.

- Bucky ...

- I just wanted to see you’re alive and well. I’ll leave and promise you’ll never see me again if you want.

- You didn’t ask me what I wanted.

- What do you want, petal?

- I want you to kiss me.

- I know where that ends, petal. - he smirked, hand searching for hers. - Very tempting of you to do those things to me.

5 YEARS LATER

It was cold, the sort of cold Bucky had began to hate, the sort of cold he felt whenever she left early in the morning to go to work but it was the sort of cold which mixed with sweet memories. Nevertheless, there he was, at another meeting, hearing whatever bullshit excuses Rumlow had to give him. Steve had been the one to suggest taking his territory rather than just off him yet taking care of a damaged business with an even more damaged partner was doing his head in. He stood against the new furnished couches of the bar, drinking his scotch as he heard Rumlow ramble and ramble about how he had good ideas. He had ideas, just not good ones. An hour late he was leaving the godless establishment to return home. He walked home as he always did during winter, watching the newly put up Christmas lights in the streets. His apartment wasn’t too far, having sold his previous one once Y/N moved back to Massachuts to buy one near her and then selling it once she graduated to buy another one. It was close to the bar and she liked it that way, constantly begging him not to go during Christmas and stay with her but business was business. Entering his home, the electrical fireplace was on and his heavily pregnant wife was barefoot, walking side to side and jumping into her dress.

- Stop jumping, you’ll fall and hurt yourself. - Bucky smirked, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her body. - And we all know you can’t get up when you fall.

- So funny. - she playfully slapped him on the chest. - It’s almost as if this wasn’t your fault.

- How’s our little boy?

- How do you know it’s not a girl? - she smirked. - Nice try, Bucky but you’ll only know when the baby is born.

- You’re killing me here.

- Come on, we have to go to the twin’s baby shower.

- Explain to me again why did your friend decided to do a baby shower after the babies were born?

- So that she would tell us what size clothes they are. - she gave him a soft kiss, leaning against him. - You won’t be your usual grumpy, scary self. You’ll be good to the other dads.

- What will I tell the other dads when they ask me what I do?

- You’re a business man. - she straightened his suit’s lapel. - Isn’t that somewhat true?

- You’re lucky I adore you.

- Come on.

Bucky found it hard mixing both of their lifestyles, but he did it for her. God, he had done so much for her and he only wanted to do more for her. If someone had told him he’d beg the police captain to go to his wedding just to make Y/N happy, he would’ve laughed, yet Y/N deserved it. His father had pretty much set her aside once it came to light she was hanging out with him and he couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. He didn’t have many friends and those he had had completely relationships to the friends Y/N had, nevertheless he tried. He wanted to be the best husband and the best father he could possibly be. Bucky would lay sleepless every single night wondering how he’d do it. How would he go to profession day and tell kids about his job? He couldn’t or he’d traumatise them. Nevertheless, he worried. Y/N was going to be a great mum, the best mum even but him? He wasn’t so sure.

They reached Wanda’s place which was decorated with all sorts of baby blue decorations. 2 boys in one go. If Bucky suddenly had two kids, he would’ve had a heart attack. He barely knew he could be a good dad for one, imagine two.

- Oh my god, you’re huge. - Wanda said as she opened the door. - How come it’s not out yet?

- The baby’s stubborn like his father.

- More like his mother. - Wanda added. - Come see the twins.

There were two bassinets on the living room where Vision was frantically rocking them side to side, Pietro sat in the couch on his phone while most of the guests were still to arrive. Y/N looked over the bassinets, the two babies laying there wide awake which probably explained why Vision looked so overwhelmed.

- Why are they so big? - Y/N whispered to Bucky. - I can’t push something that big out of me.

- Well, think positive, at least you’re only pushing one out of you and not two.

- So that’s Billy and that’s Tommy. I think. - Wanda cocked her head to the side. - Well, Billy replies to his name and Tommy doesn’t.

- Can I hold one?

- Sure. Bucky, do you wanna hold one? - Wanda asked and before he could reply, the redhead had already put a baby in his arms. James hadn’t held a baby, he didn’t know how to hold a baby yet there it was, a baby. - Aw, look at that Billy or Tommy likes you.

- We’re still working on what colour we should dress one another so we know which one is which. - Vision added. - Pietro is still upset we didn’t name one Pietro.

- Y/N you will name your baby Pietro if it’s a boy.

- Absolutely not. - she said as she cooed the baby in her arms. - They’re so beautiful. Congratulations.

- Yeah ... - Bucky handed back the baby to Wanda. - Do you think I can use your balcony?

- Sure.

Y/N furrowed her browns, putting the baby back in his crib before excusing herself. She gave Bucky some time before following him and there he was, leaned against the wall, cigarette hanging from the middle of his lips as his wild blue eyes observed the night sky.

- It’s a filthy habit. - she walked into the balcony. - What’s stressing you?

- Nothing’s stressing me, petal.

- You always smoke when you’re stressed so let it out. What’s wrong? Is it Rumlow?

- Rumlow wishes he could stress me.

- Bucky.

- You’re pregnant, petal. Like ... really, really pregnant.

- We’ve established that. - she looked at her own bump. - You thought it was a food baby?

- I don’t know, looking at Wanda’s kids ... we will have a baby in less than a month and I am going to be a father and I will screw it up. I’m not ready.

- You’re stressed about being a dad? - she wrapped her arms around his neck, soft kind eyes looking at him. - Buck, everyone’s stressed with their first baby. You’re going to be a great dad.

- I should get a new job.

- Not this again.

- Yes. I need to get a new job so the baby ...

- Bucky, you don’t need a new job. - she interrupted him. - Your job won’t put the baby in danger because I won’t let it happen. I don’t know if you remember but I’m very good at deflecting bullets.

- Deflecting? - he laughed. - You’re very good at catching them.

- Either way, you’re going to be a great dad. Steve’s a great dad and he went parachuting without a parachute like an idiot. You take a parachute, at least.

- I see your point.

- James Barnes, in exactly five months you’re gonna be as good as a father as you could be. - she leaned against him, taking her opportunity to take the cigarette away from his mouth and tossing it out the balcony. Her eyes followed up to his face, intently on something. - What?

- I smell snow.

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#sebastian stan #bucky #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky imagine #sebastian stan imagine #bucky drabble #sebastian stan drabble #mob boss! sebastian stan #mob boss!bucky #mob bucky

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years ago

Text

something part 3--calum hood

A/N: This is it! The final piece! Thank you for bearing with me while I took you on this rollercoaster of emotions and for being so kind while I took my break. Much love💕

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking weed, dealing with heartbreak, sexual situations

Part one || Part two

***

Five months have gone by and Calum tried to push the idea to publicly date Missy away as best he could. The guys even tried to help, but inevitably he was forced to say yes. Calum’s reading over the itinerary he and Missy have to follow over his morning coffee. He takes a sip remembering when she was brought in to discuss the arrangements. It was the Monday following the best and worst weekend of his life with Y/N.

Calum’s body language is screaming ‘leave me the fuck alone I’m pissed’ as he sits slouched in the chair, arms folded against his chest and his hands in fists. His facial expression mirrors a rock, hard and unforgiving as Missy walks in with her manager and the band’s PR liaison. He watches her with hard eyes take a seat next to him, Calum purposely shifts his chair far away from her. She frowns slightly then smiles politely to the rest.

Calum listens as the team discusses the arrangement. How it will benefit both the band and up the ante on her modeling career.

“To be tied with one of the most desirable bachelors will increase magazines wanting to feature you,” Christina the liaison explains excitedly. Calum can’t help but snort.

“Pair her with Styles’ then, he’s more notorious than I am,” Calum grumbles.

“We couldn’t get in contact,” Missy’s manager says, her voice clipped as she narrows her eyes at Calum. “It will boost record sales for your music—”

“And we want the first single to be the love song, ‘Through the Dark.’”

Ashton, Michael, and Luke’s heads whip to Calum who has become even more outraged. It can’t be that song; he wrote that about Y/N.

“With the new romance rumors and the song, it will be a hit in no time, probably surpassing the charts of Ariana Grande and Styles combined.”

“No, we’re not having that be the single,” Ashton tries to dissuade the agreement that neither member of the band was a part of.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t written about Missy,” Calum says. His voice is as monotonous as his face. From the corner of his eye, he sees Missy look at him with a quizzical look.

“So what? No one will know except the people in this room. The relationship will last about eight months, until the album is officially released, and touring starts. You’ll inevitably break up because Missy will be too busy modeling around the world and you gentleman will also be touring. Everybody wins.”

There’s grumbles amongst the band, Calum’s jaw clicks in anger. He turns his gaze to the window, sees the clouds rolling in as his private life is being scheduled like he’s some sort of robot. He closes his eyes thinking of Y/N, and how she looked in that flower crown and then how she looked with the petals scattered in her hair like she was some type of goddess. Then he sees her with tears in her eyes.

“Calum?”

He opens his eyes and turns at the sound of his name. It’s just him and Missy in the conference room. He’s getting really tired of hearing his name if it’s not from Y/N’s lips. She moves a little closer to him in her chair, an apologetic look on her face.

“Kind of surprised ‘fake dating’ actually happens. I’ve heard rumors and look, they’re true.”

“Imagine that.” He rolls his eyes.

Missy feels the iciness in his tone, and she tries again.

“Look, this is weird for me, too. It was all my manager’s idea which is insulting because if I need a fake boyfriend to get more modeling gigs then her faith in me isn’t all that great. I don’t think of you that way—”

“Your kiss at my party said otherwise.”

“I was drunk, I’ll kiss anyone. And…all right, maybe I did have a crush on but when that girl—”

“Y/N?”

“Right, her. When Y/N showed up and I saw the way you looked at her…I couldn’t compete with that. I don’t want to come between you two.”

“Too late.”

“What happened? Maybe I could talk to her—”

“I don’t really feel like talking about it, Missy, all right? She’s not even talking to me, so I highly doubt she’d talk to you. The woman of my dreams ended things before they even began, and I couldn’t even tell her I love her.”

Missy’s quiet for a moment then offers a kind smile.

“Sounds like you want to talk about it a little….”

He pushes away from the table in a huff then stops with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll play this act if it helps you in some weird, twisted way but it means nothing to me. We’ll do all the proper pap shots and appearances but no physical contact whatsoever. Those are my limits.”

He storms out as he hears a quiet ‘okay’ and the guys are waiting for him down the hall. They try to reach out for him, but Calum continues walking.

Calum looks down at his notebook, sketches and doodles of flowers are scattered about the page. Their stems and vines looping through the words that are constantly running through his head. He takes a long drink of his coffee, letting the bitterness warm his insides.

After the meeting with management and Missy, Calum called Y/N. He texted her. He knocked on her door. It wasn’t until Crystal told him to give her space did he really back off. He knows Y/N didn’t mean what she said. That night they shared was something special. From how she was so perfect with his untimely manner to how she took care of him while he had allergies from the flowers he picked. And finally, to the way they connected.

The radio in his car is still broken, but he doesn’t listen to music anymore, he can’t because it reminds him of Y/N. Everything reminds him of her.

It’s not like Missy is a bad person. She’s actually become a good friend to Calum and respected his boundaries he set up for their ‘relationship.’ The only touching that happens is by her with her hand holding onto his arm, and even that is just for pictures. No hand holding, no hugs, no kisses.

She’s gaining the hype her manager wanted and Calum has remained off social media as soon as it started. When he’s not rehearsing with the guys or doing PR with Missy, Calum’s secluded himself to his home and music room all while being viewed like a goldfish in a bowl.

So, he writes. He writes about flowers in hair, flowers pressed between bodies and flowers held together by a chain. He also writes about strawberries. He hasn’t eaten one since he kissed her last.

Y/N’s been keeping herself busy, well, as much as she can. Everywhere she goes she’s reminded of Calum. Especially when she opens her closet and sees the small wooden box she placed his bouquet of flowers and flower crown in. She couldn’t find it in herself to throw them away.

That first week after what happened with Calum she spent it crying and listening to sad music. Her heartbreak had her rethink of past moments with Calum. All of the ‘what if’s’ are now ‘will nots.’ Which is way too close to ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ for her liking hidden in the petals of the flowers.

She ignored his calls and texts.

The first time she saw them together was a month after the whole ordeal. She thought she was in a good place and as she was scrolling through Instagram on her lunch break she saw the first picture. Calum and Missy were walking along the pier going in and out of shops. They were wearing sunglasses and Calum didn’t really show much emotion but if he knew paps were around, he never did.

What Y/N zeroed in on was Missy’s hand on Calum’s arm.

Her heart fell into her stomach and she closed the app without even reading the caption. She deleted her Instagram and Twitter apps that day.

When she got home she opened the box of flowers, their scent mixed in with the cedar wood twisted her heart. Very delicately, she lifted the bouquet from the box. Calum’s chain was still wrapped around the now dry, frail stems.

She should throw them out. She almost did. She couldn’t. The dried flowers were the only reminder that what happened between her and Calum was real. That it actually happened. How could she let that go? Even if he was the one that got away and kept getting away?

“You did this Y/N,” she muttered to herself placing the flowers back in the box. “You made him leave before you could get attached.”

The next day there was a knock at her door. Not expecting anyone she peeked through the curtains and saw it was Ashton with a pizza box and a plastic bag.

“Ashton…what are you doing here?” she asks upon opening the door.

“I come bearing gifts of the heartbreak kind,” he grins sheepishly holding up the box and bag.

“Is that a champagne bottle I see in that bag?” she asks seeing the slender neck and gold foiling.

“It is. And caramel ice cream.”

“All right. You can come in,” she allows stepping aside so he can enter.

“So,” he sighs falling heavily against the couch. The pizza box is open on her coffee table, he has a glass of water while Y/N is holding onto the bottle of champagne. His hazel eyes take her in, “how are you?”

“That’s a loaded question,” she scoffs pressing play on the Marvel movie. She decided on Infinity War. “It’s been a month, so you think I’d be okay. I was told that however long you were with someone, that’s how long it takes to get over them divided in half. So, if you’re with someone for a year, you should be over them in six months. Calum and I were…’together’ for a day so it should have been twelve hours, right? But nope.”

She takes a long chug of the champagne until it makes her eyes water from the bubbles. The sweet nectar bites at her tongue and teeth.

“Who told you that math?”

“An old boss of mine,” she shrugs.

“Well, it’s stupid as shit. There’s no time limit for how you fall for someone just as there’s no time limit for you to lose feelings. You have feelings when you have them.”

“We went on one date, Ashton. I shouldn’t be this bent out of shape over that.”

“Hey,” he pinches her shoulder affectionately until she looks at him. His face softens. “You and Calum always had something between you. From an outside perspective, I get why you both danced on that line between friends and something more. You’ve both been hurt and there was always something in the way.”

“Or someone,” her eyes drop at the thought of Missy. Then she thinks of the photo she saw of them and rubs at her eyes, so the tears won’t come.

“My point is,” he stresses grabbing hold of her hand, “you’re allowed to feel hurt and sad and angry.”

“I’m trying so hard to not feel that way all the time, but it…it’s so consuming sometimes.”

“I know. Before you drink the whole bottle, eat some pizza, we’ll watch the movie and we can talk some more, okay?”

About halfway through the movie Y/N’s hugging the ¾ full bottle against her chest as a comfort object. She never drinks her sadness away, she knows how dangerous that is, but it feels nice to have her head not feel so full because all her thoughts are tumbling out to Ashton. His arm is around her shoulders in comfort as she leans into him.

“You always thought there was something between us?” she asks.

“I didn’t think, I knew.”

“What’s the difference?” she stares at him quizzically; the bubbly made his words confusing. Ashton smiled at her response.

“He’d always tell me how he wanted to ask you out. He’d ask if you were coming to any dinner or party we had. But he was scared to ruin your friendship and in my opinion, I think it scared him how close you two got so fast.”

“Hmph,” she slumps against the inside of his arm.

“Your song played while we were driving that night, you know.”

“Yeah? Which one?”

“Drive,” she giggles at the comedy of it all. “He gave me wildflowers with his chain around it and bought me a flower crown.”

“It sounds like a great night.”

“It was! But then he got sleepy cause he was allergic to the flowers, then he passed out on me. But I liked it…” she takes the last sip of her champagne then pouts that it’s empty.

“One is enough for you,” Ashton chuckles placing the bottle next to the pizza box. He settles back next to her and they watch the movie for a moment.

“I saw their picture today,” she says somberly. “I know it’s fake. But they’re both a catch…so it’ll be no surprise that it’ll become real.”

“Y/N—”

“It happens all the time Ash,” she shrugs. “I’m the person before everyone’s happy ending.”

“That’s not true. Look at all you and Calum have been through together. This damn arrangement is a roadblock for sure, but you two are the final drive.”

“That…kind of makes sense. I can’t tell,” she shakes her head.

“It’d make sense a full champagne bottle ago,” he mutters but she hears him.

She nudges him in the ribs playfully until they’re both laughing.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” she says and moves down the hall.

Ashton checks his phone to see Luke is trying to console Calum, too. It was hard for him to act with Missy today. Luke reports that Calum has had only one drink but is smoking a lot of weed to help clear his head and wants to drive to Y/N’s house.

When Ashton has finished replying to keep an eye on him, Y/N is standing next to the couch. He looks up at her to see she has her arms wrapped around herself, her lower lip caught between her teeth, but he hears the quick gasps of her sobs.

“I really hate this, Ashton.”

“C’mere,” he opens his arms to her and hugs her tightly.

“It’s really hard being lonely.”

She cries into his shirt, finding comfort in his embrace and friendship.

Y/N’s found a good friendship with Max from work. Nothing romantic at all, but he makes sure they do a lot of fun things together. It’s been almost five months since that night with Calum and when Y/N comes across a photo of him and Missy together, Max is there to take her to the beach or a movie to distract her mind.

Now when she sees photos of them it doesn’t make her go in her closet to look at the wilted flowers. It’s still a sting in the thorn of her heart but it’s more bearable. The first single off their new album was ‘Through the Dark’ and it made her cry. Max found her laying on the floor of her room with it playing on a loop, the box of flowers unopened but lying next to her. He laid next to her and held her hand as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She’s meeting up with Max at his place for lunch and she was craving the chicken Caesar sandwich from the bistro on the pier. It wasn’t until she saw her that Y/N remembered this is a favored spot for Calum and Missy to be spotted and there she was. Standing off the side of the counter looking gorgeous in a spring dress.

Y/N tried to keep her head down as she ordered.

“And what’s the name?” the cashier asks.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Y/N? Oh, it is you!” Missy says suddenly next to her.

“Got it this time, thanks. We’ll call you when your food’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters. She takes a deep breath and turns to Missy. “Hi.” She looks around the shop expecting to see Calum and trying to prepare herself to come face to face with him.

“He’s not here,” Missy says quietly glancing around the shop as well then grabs Y/N’s wrist pulling her to the far end of the sandwich showcase. “He’d actually hate me for even talking about this…and to you but…I’m so sorry. For everything. My manager came up with this PR stunt.”

“You don’t have to explain, I get it’s for publicity,” Y/N tries to get away from this situation as quickly as possible while also keeping herself together. Her neck is warm, and her breathing has accelerated in a slight panic.

Missy grabs her wrist again but pulls her into the women’s bathroom. Y/N’s affronted at the boldness of Missy’s actions.

“It is all publicity, I swear! I don’t know exactly what happened between you and Calum but he’s miserable. We’re friends now and all he talks about is you. How funny you are and kind you are. He really misses you,” Missy continues with a frown.

Y/N sighs. She really does seem nice but she’s still keeping her guard up. How could she not?

“He really cares about you, Y/N.” Missy stresses squeezing Y/N’s hand for emphasis.

“Missy, look. I appreciate you telling me all this. You… you actually seem really nice and genuine which makes it that much harder for me to dislike you.”

“I get that,” Missy nods her head, “but he really, really cares about you.” Her eyes grow bigger each time she said really, and Y/N gives her a confused look.

“Yeah…you um…you said that?”

“No, he…ugh he’s going to hate me, but he loves you. ‘Through the Dark is about you. He told me you’re the girl of his dreams when we met the Monday after his party. I’ve felt horrible all this time.”

Y/N stares at Missy while she processes what she just heard.

“When did he tell you that again?”

“His party was Friday, and we met that Monday to discuss the logistics of this stupid ploy. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for kissing him in front of you! I was drunk, I’ll kiss anyone, and I told him I did have a small crush on him but when I saw the way he looked at you it went away. I swear!”

“He really said he loves me?”

“Yes! When we’re not out getting photographed he’s always writing in his notebook and drawing flowers in it. Not that I’ve read anything,” Missy adds in a rush. “It’s just over his shoulder I saw it a couple times before he closed it.”

“Yeah but that was months ago, I’m sure he’s already caught feelings for you.”

“No, he hasn’t. Trust me. He’s become more like a brother to me, honest. I’ve been trying to force him to talk to you and our ‘contract’ is up in a few months anyway for the album release. I want to break if off early publicly so you can finally be together but he’s so stubborn he won’t.”

Y/N laughs lightly at how fast Missy talks. She’s not sure if it’s out of keeping this all to herself for so long or if that’s really how she is, talking a mile a minute.

“Thank you for telling me this, Missy. I…I can’t believe I’m telling you this since we don’t really know each other but I love him, too. I’ve loved him for so long but I’m the one who pushed him away. I’m the one who told him to do this deal with you because he and I only had one night together,” Y/N explains.

Missy’s eyes widen and she squeals in joy. “You love him too?! Oh, this is great. I’ll arrange for you two to meet up and—”

“Missy, Missy! No, no don’t do that. It’s been too long,” Y/N shrugs. “I doubt he’d want to see me.”

Missy plants her feet on the ground firmly, her face turning very serious very fast. Y/N’s a little taken aback at the fierceness in her gaze.

“Do you want to be with him?” she asks.

“Um..yes.”

“And you love him?”

“Yeah…”

“Then let me help you fix this, please. It’s the least I can do for coming between you when it wasn’t my plan to do so in the first place.”

Y/N takes a deep breath. She’s really starting to like Missy; she has a good heart.

“Okay. How can you help?”

“They’re all planning to go to the Invisible House for a week. I can’t go because I have a shoot to do in New York, but Ashton told me that Calum will be there a couple days before they all arrive.”

Y/N mulls it over, her mind thinking of ways to make it up to him. To apologize. To make him realize how sorry she is and how special he is to her. That despite all the hurdles and messes they’ve been through, that something they have is meaningful.

Then, she gets the perfect idea.

“Do you know when he’s going to be there?” Y/N asks and Missy smiles.

“I know all the details, Y/N.”

The drive to the Invisible House is pretty boring without his radio working so he hums to himself as he drives. Calum’s glad he decided to head there a few days before the rest of the group shows up. The pictures are immaculate and he’s excited to try out the hundred-foot pool.

He texted Missy when he was leaving, and she responded with an encouraging text in return.

‘Have fun! Let me know how everything goes 😉’

He’s confused by the winky face but appreciates it all the same. He’s glad to have her as a friend.

When he arrives at the building it’s dusk, the stars are just dusting the sky and the house is a glowing violet in the desert air. He stares at it for a moment, taking in the beauty of the panes of glass, breathing in the cool desert night. If they were all here a year ago maybe Red Desert would have been Purple Desert.

He shakes his head in disbelief. He’s starting to sound like Luke.

He grabs his belongings, two suitcases and a duffel bag and makes his way to the entrance. Ashton and Michael will be bringing the instruments for a jam session, so he didn’t pack his bass.

Once the door is unlocked, he’s mesmerized by the space before he hears music playing. Was that supposed to be playing? He sets his things by the counter and walks further in. The pool is lit up in a light blue and purple with glowing white lotus flowers floating on the water.

There’s flower petals beneath his feet as he walks the length of the pool. It’s a sweet aroma that fills his nose. Then he panics and thinks Michael has this set up for Crystal. He does not want to walk in on them having a private moment, but that’s hard to do in a glass house.

When he’s at the halfway point of the pool, the soft music becomes a bit louder and he recognizes the drum and guitar chords of Something by The Beatles. His mouth goes dry as he comes to the living area at the end of the pool to where Y/N is standing.

There’s petals on the carpet and she’s holding a white flower in her palm with a flower crown on her head. He’s at a loss for words.

“Hi,” she welcomes quietly.

“Hi…what are you doing here?” he wishes he didn’t ask such a dumb question.

“I should have rehearsed this beforehand what I wanted to say but I had to make sure this was all perfect before you got here. Um, I’m here for you. I know it’s been so long, and this is all my fault in the first place. Pushing you away and I thought I was protecting myself.”

She takes a step forward.

“I’ve been a mess without you, Cal. I miss you, so much it hurts. I think of you all the time, and that night we spent together. Your necklace is still wrapped around the flowers you gave me and that’s what made me think of doing this,” she gestures to her flowers on display all around. She takes another step forward. Closer to the step of the living area, closer to Calum.

“We’ve had our fair share of messes with each other. And it’s my fault for the last one so it’s my responsibility to rectify it. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, how much that night meant to me.”

Another step forward and Calum is reminded of that night in his room. How he came to her, now he’s the one on the receiving end. He watches her with bated breath, and he knows she’s nervous (like he is) by the way she’s playing with the white flower in her hand.

“And the more I thought about the messes we’ve been through it made me think of the Lotus flower. It grows through the mud but when it breaks through, it’s this vibrant and full flower,” she takes two steps and is right at the edge of the step. She holds up the flower.

“And it’s like we’re the flower. We’re growing through the mud and I called it quits before we really bloomed. And…” she takes a shaky breath then laughs nervously, “this sounded romantic in my head but now it sounds super cheesy. But when I heard you were drawing flowers it made me feel like we were still connected.”

She doesn’t say anything more and neither does Calum. Then, when she looks up at him it all makes sense. What they’ve been through these last several months, that was their mud.

“Can you say something?” she whispers, “I’m starting to feel like an idiot and that this was a really stupid idea—”

He lifts her up to his level connecting their lips together. He brings her against him, and she wraps her arms around his neck, their lips getting reacquainted with each other. She tastes like strawberries and smells of flowers and he’s filled with bliss. He feels whole again.

“I love you,” he gasps when they pause to catch their breath. “I should have said it months ago, but I was scared. I thought it was too soon.”

“I love you, too. I’m so sorry for what I said that day. I wish I didn’t—”

He silences her with another kiss.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I understand why you did it, sweetheart,” he cups her cheek and gazes into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have walked away like I did.”

“We really are a mess,” she laughs brushing his curls from his face.

“A beautiful mess,” he corrects sucking a kiss from her lips then holds her against him in a tight hug. He never wants to let go.

“Was this too much?” she asks moments later.

“No, it was perfect, thank you for doing all of this for me. I’ll be honest,” he stands up straight to look at her, “I thought I was walking in on Michael and Crystal.”

Y/N laughs and continues laughing until Calum kisses her and she’s left gasping.

“How about we try out the pool?” he mumbles.

They spend a good forty-five minutes in the pool. Soft touches and kisses are exchanged until they reconnect as one. They’re surrounded by the glowing flowers and the ripples they create from their movements. Words of love are spoken and moaned, echoing throughout the space.

They transition to the bed that is also covered in flower petals. Calum kisses down the length of her body, his lips ghosting over her core. Their eyes lock as he attaches his mouth between her folds, his tongue swirling around her bud.

Her legs squeeze around his head on their own accord as she’s vibrating with pleasure. The moans are continuous as he works her over into her second orgasm of the night. When it surpasses, she’s giggling quietly as Calum peppers kisses to her thighs.

“Wow…”

“That good, huh?” he remarks, his lips smacking against her skin bounce off the walls.

“Yeah but…” she rises up on her elbows to look down at him. “Is that all you got? You told me you’d make me cum eight times when we were in your bathroom. Or was that just talk?”

“Oh, you want to be a little sass, huh?” he bites down on the fleshy part of her thigh. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” she smirks.

“Because now I’m going to make you cum ten times.”

“Okay, Cal, I was just jo—OH!” She falls back against the bed as she’s already filled with intense pleasure.

Suffice it to say, Calum did make her cum nine more times. The overstimulation and her noises got him riled up and he had to be close to her again. He made love to her slowly and tenderly. He gave her gentle kisses and she molded to him.

Before she fell asleep he was stroking her face after she drank some water, he really exhausted her.

“How did you know I was going to be here?”

“I ran into Missy at the bistro I love. She explained everything,” she replies sleepily. She’s struggling to keep her eyes open. “I like her, she’s nice.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“I think she and Max would get along,” she yawns snuggling closer to him.

“I’ll take your word for it. You can go to sleep you know.”

“I want to keep talking to you,” she squeezes his lower back.

“We can talk all day tomorrow. And tomorrow night. And the next day, and the next…”

“Mmm, that sounds nice,” she smiles closing her eyes. “I love you, Cal.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Two days later the rest of the group arrived, and it was a happy albeit awkward reunion because Calum and Y/N were still naked in bed. They spent their time eating, watching movies, and having sex as much as they wanted. It was perfect but also took a lot out of them.

They were both fast asleep until their names were shouted, and Calum scrambled to cover Y/N up.

“I’m glad to see you, Y/N but I’ll hold off on the hug until you aren’t naked with Cal,” Luke laughs.

“We’ll go bring in the rest of the stuff,” Ashton giggles then winks at Y/N.

“Please tell me this was the only place you had sex,” Michael asks peering at them both with narrow eyes.

“Umm…”

“Ugh!” Michael throws his hands in the air. “You guys better not have left messes anywhere!” he complains walking back towards the main kitchen area.

Calum looks over the wall separating their ‘room’ from the rest of the house and turns to her.

“We’re done with messes, yeah?” Calum grins down at her and she nods bringing his face closer to hers.

“Something great came from the mess,” she agrees and slots her lips with his. They’ll have to be super quiet now.

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#calum hood oneshot #calum hood angst #calum angst #calum hood smut #calum smut #calum 5sos writing #calum writing #5sos writing #calum hood 5sos #calum fic #5soso fic #calum hood fic

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codename-adler · 4 years ago

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foxes + onesies (1/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Allison

in the aftermath of the “mob war”, Allison still sees Betsy for counselling, mostly to cope with Seth’s death still, her ED and to process her childhood and teenage trauma

Betsy teaches her a lot about self-care (and not in Allison’s traditionnal definitions of self-care, which are: bottle it up, act out, burn through 500$ in clothes, repeat)

all in all, Allison has a lot to come to terms with by the end of the semester, and Betsy won’t be there as much in the summer, so she leaves her with a little list of self-care tips to look at when Ally feels overwhelmed

- pick a time to make yourself some tea, or try out some new ones and tell me about it next time

- try drawing with those wonderful pencils of yours, but in different art styles (because yes, Allison does have a fashion sketchbook. but silly doodles? abstract drawings? anatomy sketches? she never tried)

- watch movies by yourself, and for yourself, Allison

- since you love shopping and spending so much, find yourself a cozy thing, a soft thing that will only be for yourself, when you need to be reminded to love yourself and be gentle with yourself

those were the suggestions that stuck to Ally the most

so the next time she goes out to the mall with Dan and Renee, she doesn’t expect to find anything like Betsy suggested

she does look for some herbal tea at David’s Tea, and ends up getting some hibiscus + rose water green tea

but then they go to Walmart (she wants to gag)

fucking Walmart

the girls need some pads and tampons, and the gatorades are on sale (because all the Foxes, as a treat for winning the Championship and bc they all want to stay close after the hard year they endured, got to stay on campus for the whole summer (idc if it’s unrealistic, sue me, that’s how i roll))

for once, Allison follows Dan and Renee, without looking at anything, without touching anything (what if she catches it??)

then Renee wants to look for socks

that’s when Ally passes a rack of colorful onesies

one brushes the tip of her elbow, and wow it’s so soft

not at all the quality material she expected

she stops in her tracks, lets the girls go on to the underwear section, and really looks at the pajamas

there are lots of unicorns, and pandas, a few mouses, and two giraffes

bright yellow, light-spotted giraffes, with their little ears and antlers and all

the sewn-on eyes are closed and have cute little lashes details

Allison imagines herself wearing it and feels utterly stupid

but- she keeps running her fingers through the synthetic velvety material, mesmerized by its softness

she thinks back on Betsy’s list

the folks would absolutely loathe it. the high school bitches too. God, even Seth would say it’s fucking stupid. Nobody should ever be seen wearing that…

But I wouldn’t have to worry about my man-shoulders in it… or my stomach… or my thighs… I could even go braless, or wear just that cute little bralette I haven’t got the courage to wear yet… and I think Renee would agree it’s cute…

then she hears Betsy’s soothing voice in her head

But do you like it?

Yes. Yes I do.

and that’s how Allison takes down the onesie, cashes out and waits for the two other girls outside the Walmart entrance, feeling silly, and jitty, yet quite happy with herself

back at Fox Tower, she washes it immediately, only to stuff it back under her bed

it stays there for quite a few weeks, until it’s almost time for school to start again, her last year at PSU

the boys are out at the beach, Andrew and Neil are God-knows-where, Renee is meeting a friend, and Dan is out shopping with her Sisters

Ally is alone, and lonely

she’s craving something, something that feels close to how one of her nanny used to take care of her hair before bedtime, telling her stories of folklore around the world

guessing that nobody will be back before sundown, she reaches underneath her bed and takes out the giraffe onesie

she gets rid of her high-waisted skinny jeans, her silky cropped blouse and her high-heeled sandals in favor of Seth’s old Marvel boxer shorts, her baby blue bralette she still hasn’t worn, and the infamous onesie

and wow, it’s so baggy

as she buttons up the front, it almost feels like being wrapped up in a giant, fluffy pancake

she giggles to herself, like a little girl

until she goes to look at herself in the mirror, where she straight-up bursts out laughing

she feels so, so light

she puts on a pair of Renee’s fuzzy socks with the sticky soles and leaves her bedhair as it is

she spends the rest of the day on the couch, watching Barbie movies from the hidden collection she has in her closet while painting her real nails in rainbow colors

she makes herself a big cup of the tea she bought, and lights an ocean-breeze candle

between Barbie as the Island Princess and Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus, she even goes so far as going at the end of the hallway to buy some sugar-free gummy bears from the vending machine, completely forgetting herself…

of course, this is when the boys, including Andrew and Neil, are coming back from their day outdoors

she stops dead in her tracks when she turns around and sees them, a *giraffe* caught in the headlights

the boys only notice her because she stops moving so abruptly

she’s speechless

the boys, not so much

Kevin: *oblivious to the onesie situation* So you’re the one hoarding the healthy gummies. Dude give back some.

Matt: Oh, hi Ally… *raises his pointer finger, opens and closes his mouth in awe, lowers his arm back down* Cute?

Andrew: *his face says he doesn’t give a shit, but he’ll let the image make its way to his heart eventually* *very sneakily snaps an adorable pic for the group chat*

Neil: *whispering to Andrew, genuinely confused* I thought these were for babies? Do we qualify as babies? Why is Ally dressed like a baby, Andrew?

Nicky: BITCHHHHHH I shoulda made a bet on THAT!

Aaron: Well fuck. 60 points to Hufflepuff for cuteness. Ugh. I can’t believe I said “cute”. Jesus, I wanna vomit. Eurk.

Allison slowly makes her way back to her dorm room without a word, her cheeks flushed and her eyes to the ground, clutching her bag of gummies

she hasn’t felt this vulnerable since Seth’s passing

an hour later, she’s still hiding under her blankets as Renee and Dan file in

of course, they saw the photo posted to their group chat, and they heard everything from Matt and Nicky

Renee gets under the covers with Ally, and Dan proceeds to show off the goods she got with a very silly runway walk

they don’t say anything, until Neil sends a new picture on the GC

it’s a printed version of Andrew’s picture, pinned to the locker room wall with all the other photos they’ve accumulated

and everybody in the chat is dying of cuteness overload

Ally’s got that look of a toddler caught red handed, so open and genuine and surprised; her mouth is slighlty opened in an “o” shape; her mismatched fuzzy socks are peeking from underneath the bunched up fabric at her ankles; the hood is pulled up and slouching over her head…

but nobody, nobody, is making fun of her

we’re talking about the Foxes here. they never pull their punches.

so this? unexpected. shocking. astounding.

and right at the bottom of the picture, in shaky black marker: Baby Ally

with a poorly drawn heart next to it

in Neil’s unmistakeable handwriting

she cries

and never again is she ashamed of wandering around in her giraffe onesie

and if from then on, many Foxes gifts are soft things for her, well, that is called character development

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago

Text

A Girl’s Choice

Draco X Reader (highschool!AU)

Summary: Everything was absolutely fine in his small town, until you stumbled in and began to defy the status quo.

A/n: So, guess who got Midnight Sun and has been reading it non-stop for the past few days? Me. It was me. So, please enjoy this Twilight Parody of our favorite characters. Also I get to move back to college in like a week and I am EXCITED--mainly because there’s a good chance that I get a room to myself bc of the virus. So yay me. I love you guys a lot and really thank you for your patience and enthusiasm. It makes me smile.

“So, Gin asked me to the dance this morning,” Harry was chatting you up—a normal occurrence before class started.

Draco didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. He really didn’t, but he was intrigued about how this would go down. Since moving to the small town, you had been a buzz among the boys in the grade level. Draco could all but assume that most of the fantasized about you asking them to the girl’s choice dance coming up.

“That’s great!” You genuinely smiled. “You’ll have a lot of fun!”

Harry fumbled, losing his casual composure. You noted on it, and your look became more skeptical and judgmental—something Pansy would approve of.

“Well, I told her I’d think about it,”

This surprised Draco as much as it seemed to surprise you. It was no secret that star lacrosse player Weasley and Potter were all but official and had been for almost all of high school.

“Why in the world would you tell her that?” Your words mimicked his thoughts.

“Well... I thought maybe you’d... want to ask me?” He ran a hand through his usually untidy mass of curls.

Draco could not make this up if he wanted to. He barely suppressed the laugh that threatened to escape his lips. How in hell had Harry figured that you’d want to go to the dance with him? You’d been here maybe a month. As far as Draco knew, you weren’t interested in anyone. Perhaps the small town didn’t have enough shine for your city lights.

“You should tell Ginny yes, Harry,” You scolded him like a child. “It’s rude to make a girl wait,”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry sulked, his face falling as the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

Draco couldn’t wipe the amused smirk from his face. You huffed annoyed and opened your notes, already prepping a new page for today’s lesson. You didn’t pay him any mind during class—a normality between the pair of you. Draco ignored you and you returned the favor. It was almost easier this way for him. Your shiny new toy status had no effect on him. He had every shiny toy he ever wanted. You had no appeal to him.

Harry, however, Draco stole glances over from time to time. The green-eyed jock pouted throughout the entire lesson, stealing glances over to you. You hardly noticed. Instead you were doodling in your notebook, waiting for the teacher to move on.

Maybe the stars aligned, or maybe you did fascinate him, but Draco found himself in the lunch line next to you the following day as another tried to ask you to the girls choice ball.

“So, I heard you turned down Potter,” Cedric gave off-hand. “Waiting to ask someone else then?”

Draco snorted, and this time you did give him the slightest glare before turning back to Cedric.

“I’m not going,” You answered curtly, grabbing fruit from the stand. “And no, I don’t plan on asking anyone.”

“Why aren’t you going?” Cedric almost pouted.

“There doesn’t have to be a reason.” You snapped. “I’m not going,”

Draco could only imagine the glare that you gave Cedric for him to back off so quickly. Again, a smile quirked at his lips. You might be the shiny new toy, but you weren’t going to be used like a porcelain doll.

“So, has she asked anyone yet?” Pansy asked as he sat beside her at their usual lunch table.

“She’s not going, and you totally missed her going off on Diggory,” Draco grinned. “That girl has to have a glare that rivals yours,”

“She turns down Potter and Diggory... do you think maybe she’s into chicks?” Pansy asked almost hopeful.

“Wouldn’t know and don’t care,” Draco shrugged. “Besides, she’s not going to the dance so go ask Greengrass before it’s too late,”

Pansy sulked and stabbed her salad with a bit more vigor than before.

You stormed into the chemistry classroom a bit more irritated than he had seen you in the cafeteria. He wanted to guess that another guy had tried to ask you to the girl’s choice dance because honestly it amused him to see you so upset. It was cute how riled up you could get from some unwanted attention. He wondered how far you’d have to be pushed before you actually started swinging. Maybe he wanted to find out.

“So,” He asked pointedly. “Anyone else try to ask you to the dance?”

“Oh, fuck off Malfoy,” You hissed making him grin wider.

“Well, I was wondering if—”

“If you even start to finish that, I won’t be so forgiving,” Your hand clenched into a fist and Draco thought that maybe you’d actually try to hit him, but Snape walked in as the bell rang, taking any chance away from you.

Draco sat back smugly in his chair—to your great annoyance—as class droned on. At the end of the hour Draco followed you out, calling your name. You froze in the hallway, before turning to face him.

“I’m really not in the mood right now Draco,” Your strained voice gave a hint of weariness. “What is even with you guys? Can’t you just leave a girl alone? I’m not going to the stupid dance and I’m not just saying that so I can ask someone else,”

Before Draco could get a word in you stalked away, disappearing in the crowd. And he stood there, dumbfounded. Was he not amused an hour ago about your annoyance? Did it not make him smile that you were tortured by your suitors? Why all of a sudden was he frowning and loathing Potter and Diggory—and whatever poor bloke had the unfortunate courage to ask you before class—even more for winding you up?

“It was Krum,” Pansy didn’t even say hello as she sat next to him in Spanish. “He was the one who tried to ask her,”

“She said no to Krum?” Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “You might be right, she really might swing the other way,”

“Aw, but I already asked Daphne,” Pansy pouted.

“Pans, darling, I think if anyone else breathes near her about the dance she’s gonna send someone to the nurse,” Draco chuckled. “So maybe you dodged a bullet there,”

She sighed wistfully. “Still, it’s nice to dream,”

____________________________________

“So, did you ask anyone to the dance yet?”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this,” I huffed, kicking off my shoes. “I’m not going to that stupid dance,”

“Well, I know it’s probably not as glitzy as your uptown shindigs, but you should still go and have fun,” My dad set down his paper. “Make some friends while you’re here,” His tone was hopeful, as I knew it would be.

He wanted me to be happy here. He wanted me to fit in and enjoy my time in the middle of nowhere. It was a farfetched dream. But it was mine, I supposed.

“I have a few friends,” I insisted. “But I’m not one for dances... and the guys in town aren’t exactly... appealing,” I decided.

“Well, not that a father will complain about his daughter not wanting to date, but maybe you should go with a group of friends or something?”

“Everyone’s paired off, dad,” I sighed, looking in the fridge for something to make for dinner.

As I set off to do my chemistry homework, my mind meandered to my chem partner. It was out of character that he spoke to me today. Normally we disregarded another in comfortable silence. It had been that way since I showed up. And though it might have stung a bit in the beginning, I could tell quickly that Draco and his friends were the wrong sort of crowd that I didn’t want to be caught up in. The kind of crowds that I escaped by moving from my city life.

And I liked the crowd I had found; Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were all very sweet and welcoming on my first day and had sort of adopted me into their group without looking back. Not that there was much depth in any of their lunchroom conversations, but at least I wasn’t alone. Hermione was the only one I could hold a conversation with—she had AP classes as I did and was a saint when I needed homework guidance.

Chemistry, however, was the one subject she couldn’t help me with. She had opted out for AP Environmental instead, claiming she had done her time with Snape and would rather dropout than be in his class another year.

So, it left me begrudgingly texting Draco about tonight’s homework. He was the only other one in class that seemed to keep up easily. Maybe it was because he was a shoe shiner class pet of Snape’s.

Malfoy: Oh, so you’re talking to me now. Don’t want yell at me again?

My cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment at his response. He was never one to hold back what he was thinking—even if it was brutal.

Y/n: I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t fair to you. I’d give a reason, but I doubt you’d care

Malfoy: Pansy already told me that Krum tried to ask you to the dance. That’s what? Three guys now? If I hadn’t stopped her, Pansy wanted to ask you too.

Y/n: At least it would have been a girl asking me to a girl’s choice

Y/n: And you’re short one, Ron asked me too

Malfoy: Weasel? Wow. Never thought he’d have the guts to ask anyone

Y/n: He’s actually going with Hermione

Y/n: Now will you please help me on 7?

And to my surprise, Draco was quite civil about walking me through the covalent bonding prompts. It made me feel a bit more guilty about snapping at him earlier today.

Seeing how I struggled on the homework, I wasn’t surprised that Harry came over during study hall and asked me for help on the same, if not more, questions. After the first couple, he griped that I was too similar to Hermione for knowing it all. And that it wasn’t fair that it came so easily to me.

“Actually, Draco helped me,” I smiled as I showed my notes to Harry for the next question. “He might help you if you ask,”

That was a long shot. Harry hated Draco and vice versa. It didn’t take me long to figure that one out.

“Malfoy helped you? Like actually helped you?” Harry scoffed. “The little prat,”

“Hey,” I warned snatching my notes away. “If you’re not gonna be nice about it I won’t let you use my notes,”

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Harry pouted. “You know I was kidding,”

“Yahuh. Sure Harry,”

“Oh, come on,” Harry tried again. “He’s a prat. Always has been,”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to hear anymore of Harry’s lamenting, and grabbed my bag. “I’ll be in the library,”

Wordlessly I left, fuming slightly. The music from my headphones thawed out my anger towards Harry a bit as I pushed the doors of the library open and sat at a table, pulling out my calculus homework to go over it one last time.

“This seat taken?”

I barely heard the question over my music. My eyes darted up to meet steady grey ones.

“It’s a free country,” I shrugged then remembered that I want particularly irate towards Draco at the moment. “Thank you, by the way,” I murmured, taking out one of my headphones. “For the chem help,”

“I might have had an ulterior motive,” Draco mumbled, pulling out a binder.

“If you think I’m gonna ask you to the dance because you helped me with my homework you have another thing coming Malfoy,” I warned.

“I think every guy in the school has got that by now,” a smile played at his lips. “No, I... I need help in McGonagall,” He was almost sheepish to admit it.

I raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, but he did seem genuine about needing help.

“I’m not sure I’ll be much help, but I can try. My old teacher, Jones had a different way of explaining it...” I trailed off, a pang of remorse about leaving my old school in my chest.

And maybe the way Jones taught me made more sense to Draco because he did eventually start to understand the calculus on the paper beneath us. I realized that Draco was very methodical. He enjoyed having rules that worked every time no matter the question. A failsafe that kept him ahead of the curve.

“Do you miss it?” He asked as we started to pack for the next hour.

“Miss what?”

“Your old school? It has to be a lot different than this hell hole,” His words were nonchalant but still skeptical.

“It’s not so bad here,” I defended weakly. “But... I miss it, yeah. I feel like I have to prove myself all over again. Back home—back in New York no one questioned me. The teachers trusted me... the staff knew me...” I sighed. “I’m a stranger here.”

The warning bell rang and the same sense of dread that settled upon me reflected in Draco’s eyes: we were halfway across campus and there was little hope of getting to Snape’s class in the two minutes we had left.

Both scrambling, we headed for the doors and tore down the hall. I followed Draco’s path because if I was honest, I still didn’t quite know my way around the school nor the quickest ways to certain buildings.

“Miss Y/l/n,” Snap looked down disapprovingly at me. “I hope you have reason for being late or it’s Saturday detention for you,”

My anxiety spiked as I fumbled out an explanation. In the corner of my eye, I saw Harry stand, ready to come to my defense, but there was no need. Flawlessly Draco directed the attention of the irritated teacher to him with a sly smile and quick lie, that wasn’t really a lie at all.

“It was my fault,” Draco smoothed quickly. “I was having Y/n help me with McGonagall’s homework and I kept her late.”

Snape’s eyes darted between the two of us before he sighed, telling us to get to our seats before he gave out detentions for disrupting his class.

With a breath of relief, I sat beside Draco.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

He shrugged and took out his notes and homework just as Snape began to go over it. And we went back to ignoring each other. Except, this time, it deemed impossible for me not to glance at him every so often, or for my eyes not to drift to his notes on the table, making sure that I hadn’t missed anything. The hour seemed to end quicker than normal. As usual, Harry walked to gym with me, chatting about the upcoming game before the dance this weekend.

“So, you and Malfoy?” The comment caught me off guard. “I don’t like it,”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s nothing Harry,” I shrugged. “No need to let your little feud make up wild stories. He just needed help with calc,”

“Sure, the golden boy needed help with his homework,” Harry said flatly. “That’s believable.”

“And what about it is so farfetched?” I demanded.

“He’s doing it for some reason. He knows you turned me down, maybe he’s trying to get at me by being nice to you,” The offhand comment had my blood boiling.

“Are you serious right now!?” I snapped. “What is so wrong with you that you can’t see past your own ego!?”

Storming off, the only relief from my anger I was allowed happened when I ‘accidentally’ pelted Harry with a ball in the face, sending him to the nurse. When my anger faded, doubt remained. Was Draco only trying to be nice to me to get at Harry? From what I knew of Draco secondhand, I wouldn’t put it past him.

______________________________

Draco was shocked when Snape had called on you for a homework answer, and you admitted that you didn’t know. Didn’t you know that he didn’t mind you texting him about the homework? That helping you wasn’t the worst waste of his time in the world? You had done it before. Not days ago. And yet you allowed yourself to be ridiculed by Snape for your lack of habitual knowledge.

You didn’t notice the small frown that lingered on his face for the remainder of class as you kept your head down and doodled in your notebook. Deciding that he didn’t like your comatose, he did something that deemed childish: he passed you a note.

You ok?

You stared at the paper and looked over at him, biting your lip before scribbling:

Fine. Pay attention.

Rolling his eyes, he took the paper back and wrote:

I can’t if you’re over here moping.

You took the small piece of paper and crumpled it in your hands, shoving it into your bag. Draco decided to leave you alone for the rest of the hour his curiosity still burning through him. A quick meeting of Harry’s livid stare, and Draco had a better idea of what was going on. He just hoped, for perhaps the first time ever, that he was wrong.

“Oi, what the hell did you say to Y/n?” Draco demanded, singling Potter out in the hall the next morning.

His curiosity and suspicions had festered over the night. Draco had made the conscious decision to text you, asking if you needed help with chem, and your lack of response had him worrying again.

“What are you going on about Malfoy?” Ron crossed his arms, coming to Harry’s defense.

“Stay out of this weasel,” Draco hissed, noticing the crowd that began to gather around the small confrontation. Most of his attention, however stayed focused on cold green eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Malfoy,” Harry tipped his chin back. “What? Is she not bowing down at your feet like you’re used too?” A laugh barked out of him and Weasley and a few other onlookers.

“At least she’s got enough self-respect to not be on her knees for you,” Draco heard the familiar condescending voice of Pansy beside him. A grin curled onto his face at her words.

Harry didn’t know what to say to that it seemed, and it further proved Draco’s suspicions.

“So, you did say something to her,” He accused. “She got her not a month ago and you’re already dragging her into our mutual hatred?” Draco wouldn’t stoop that low. It was pathetic.

“Well if you hadn’t gone and pretended to need help with McGonagall’s work, there wouldn’t be a problem,” Harry gritted, as if he had the high ground.

“As opposed to you who pretends he doesn’t need help them blames others when he fails?” Draco snapped.

There was quite a large crowd gathering around now, and he and Harry were less than a foot apart. Both boys were on the verge of snapping.

“Draco?”

Your voice was enough to distract him that he didn’t see Harry throw the first punch. Pain blistered across his jaw as fury burned in his eyes. Now the kids around them were chanting and egging on the fight. But Draco never had the chance to swing back.

Because you had drove yourself into the cleared circle and delivered a few punches of your own.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You shouted at him kneeing him in the groin leaving him keeled over, groaning. “I told you to back the fuck off!”

Draco wasn’t as surprised at the comment as he was about the knowledge that you knew how to beat the pulp out of a star football player without a whim. You never seemed like the athletic type but the blood pouring from Harry’s nose begged that you were slightly more dangerous than Draco had originally thought.

“Are you okay?” Your wild worried eyes were trained on him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” He didn’t mean for the words to be so harsh, but the hurt that flickered across your face made him regret them.

He wished he had time to explain exactly why you shouldn’t have done that, but McGonagall and Snape were already upon the scene and threatening detentions. He and Harry, of course, were called out as the other students scattered.

“McGonagall, please,” You stood loyally beside him, despite his harsh words. “Draco didn’t have a hand in this, I did.”

Both teachers raised their eyebrows in surprise. Draco just gaped at you. Harry was glaring and still bleeding.

“I see. All three of you go to Dumbledore’s office.” She said, her careful eyes not leaving yours.

Harry strode off first, perhaps feeling smug in the fact that either way, you or Draco would be in trouble for this encounter. Draco wondered if you knew you had just bought yourself three days suspension for fighting.

You were silent beside him as you flexed your hand. He pondered if you had hurt it in your fervor. He almost asked you. Then he remembered the hurt on your face at his last words and decided against it. You wouldn’t want to talk to him.

“So,” Dumbledore said pointedly. “I heard there was a bit of a skirmish today in the hall,” An amused smile sat upon the principal’s face, no doubt taking in Harry’s state. Draco wondered if his skin was bruising yet.

“It was me,” Draco said not realizing what he was doing.

“Oh, don’t you even,” You were scathing at him, your hands clenched again, pain flitting across your face—you definitely hurt your hand then. You turned to Dumbledore. “Harry swung at Draco and I stepped in. I’m the one who did it.”

“Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore raised an ancient eyebrow.

Harry seemed like he was debating whether or not he wanted to admit getting beat up by a girl. The thought made Draco smile, causing his jaw to hurt. He tried to flex it but halted when pain blossomed again.

“That’s what happened,” Harry admitted under his breath.

“And why, Mr. Malfoy, did Potter swing at you?” Dumbledore turned to him, an amused smile lingering on his face.

“I thought that Harry had said something to her that hurt her. She... wasn’t keeping up on homework and it was unlike her. After she turned Harry’s proposal to the dance down, I thought...”

“You turned down Mr. Potter’s proposal to the girl’s choice dance?” The principal turned back to you.

“His, Weasley’s, Cedric’s, Viktor’s,” You muttered, much to Dumbledore’s delight as the older man began to chuckle.

“Had quite a welcome here, haven’t you?”

“You could say that again,” Folding your arms, your face became solemn.

“And do you have a reason for your actions?”

“I don’t like bullies, no matter where they come from,” Confidence founded your voice as you squared your shoulder. Never once had Draco ever heard someone call Harry a bully. The words had always been reversed. Everyone in the school saw the reputation in Draco, never Harry.

“Well, under normal circumstances, I’d have to suspend you and Mr. Potter here, but instead, I’m suspending you from being allowed to the dance this weekend. All three of you,”

“But sir!” Harry argued.

“Not another word Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore rose from his office chair. “My decision is final.”

Three ‘yes sir’s were mumbled as the three of you filed out of the office. You began to walk away, towards your next class Draco assumed, but he caught your non-injured hand, Harry slinking away himself.

“Let me go,” You shrugged him off.

“Wait,” Draco caught up to you, blocking you in the narrow hall of the office. “Look, about what I said,”

“Forget it Draco,” You snapped, and he could see unshed tears in your eyes. “Just leave me alone,” You pressed past him with a bit more force than necessary that had him after you again.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He called, and you actually paused, your head turning in interest.

“Then what did you mean?” Your voice with thick. “Cuz all I see is a rich little prat who can’t say thank you. Or a self-centered guy who thinks I need someone to fight my battles for me. A high and mighty guy who thinks he can tell me what to do,” Your words were sharp and snarled. “So please, tell me what you meant.” The challenge dripped dangerously from your scowl.

“I...” Draco fumbled for the right words. “I’m not worth getting suspended for,” Your anger turned to confusion, turned sympathy, turned neutral.

“But I’m worth fighting for,” It was a stubborn and bold declaration. “And I know that,” A pause as you turned to leave. “So yeah, I should have done that,”

___________________________

I couldn’t help the tears that streamed down my face as I nearly ran to the parking lot, yearning for the safety of my car. Slamming the door shut, I let out a frustrated yell and slumped in the seat.

The backroads under my tires held a calming solace as I drove the long way home. It was something that New York couldn’t replace: the backroads I had grown up on. With the windows down and the radio blaring, all of my thoughts were tuned out.

At a red light, I found the courage to call my father and explain what happened. He said I was grounded this weekend for fighting, but I didn’t mind much. It got me out of having to go to the dance, even if Dumbledore hadn’t already said I couldn’t. I smiled when my dad told me he was proud for standing up for myself and beating the hell out of Harry.

I found myself smiling as I pulled in at home. Icing my hand and popping some pain killers just in case, I scrolled through my notifications, only answering Hermione. I didn’t care what the school gossiped about or what rumors started because of the fight. Hermione just wanted to know if I was okay and if I’d want her to send the homework from the classes I missed. I told her yes to both and thanked her.

Another notification popped up.

Draco: are you okay? how’s your hand?

I stared at the notification, and instead of deleting the icon like I should have, I opened it and gazed at the words. His mood swings were giving me whiplash. I thought about ignoring it, but he had already seen that I had read it. Cursing modern technology, I responded.

Y/n: fine

Mulling it over, I sent another text.

Y/n: can you send me the chem homework? please

The messages that followed were unexpected. Steady and clear photos of his notes for the day— and week it looked like—as well as the worksheet Snape had given. I felt a pang if gratitude towards Draco in that moment and his words from earlier settled in.

Draco has confronted Harry because he was worried about me. Somehow, he had picked up on how Harry’s words had affected me and driven me into doubt and a few missing homework assignments. Tears sprung back up in my eyes without my consent. It left me regretting the words I had snapped at him earlier. I let him know as much with another text.

Draco: most of it was justified

Draco: I know I’m not the easiest person to know

Y/n: I was still wrong to say it. I’m sorry

Y/n: and you’re not so bad :)

There wasn’t a response from him for half an hour, so I settled down and began to transcribe his notes into my own notebook, then began to untangle the questions that the worksheet gave me. The crumpled note from a few days ago spilled out of my bag. I took it, unfurling it, running my hand over his words. I tucked it in my chemistry binder, smiling softly at his kindness.

Anxiety fluttered in my chest the next day as I drove up to school and parked in my usual spot. I felt torn between two clicks—probably the only two clicks this school had, and I had managed to get caught in the middle of a turf war—the thing that I wanted to escape by moving back in with my dad and I still managed to find myself in the same situations. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the problem.

Shaking the thought, I headed to first hour just as the bell rang in my efforts to avoid confrontation. Other than a few approving comments from my sorta friends, no one seemed put out that I had fought their golden boy. It eased my anxiety as the day went on. I was quelled a bit more when I heard that Harry wasn’t in school today. And maybe I smiled at that a bit.

“The jackass deserved it,” Ginny shrugged, “If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have hesitated either,”

She calmed the majority of my fears with her words unknowingly. If there had been one person I didn’t want to cross it was Ginny—she was fierce and took no prisoners. If the school had a queen bee, it would have been Gin.

“Is your hand alright?” Luna asked during art class. “You seem a bit off your game today,” She noticed my failing live portrait.

Luna was always quiet but observant of others, and it drew me towards the peaceful girl. Her calm nature as well as my fierce need to protect her from bullies kept me as her partner despite the seat changes in Trelawney’s art class. The teacher didn’t seem to care as Luna and I were some of her best students although Luna’s whimsical style contrasted my realistic preference heavily.

“It hurts a bit,” I answered truthfully. “But not enough to cry about,” There were yellow and purplish tinges to my knuckles, but nothing was broken.

“Everyone’s talking about it,” Luna semi-whispered. “Are you and Draco together?”

“No,” I answered a bit more harshly than I meant and refined my answer. “I was tired of Harry being an egotistical ass and dragging me into it,”

“He’s probably just jealous,” Luna gave offhand, adding some shading to her sketch. “Boys are like that,”

“Jealous? Of what?” I scoffed. “He’s with Ginny, and it’s not like I fancy anyone at this school,”

“Yes, I heard about all the failed proposals to the dance.” A smile touched her lips, “Regardless, from the outside, the only person you’ve shown interest in is Draco, and Harry doesn’t like it,”

“Well, he needs to get over it,” I muttered. “I’m not some prize to be won,”

My annoyance didn’t fade as I slumped into my seat at lunch, grateful that Harry was absent today because I might have just gone off on him again. Stupid teenage boys thinking they have some claim over a girl.

Harry was back the next day, looking worse for wear. I went to apologize, but he didn’t allow me too, saying he deserved it and the he was the one who was sorry. I wondered if Ginny had a hand in his apology. Shrugging, I decided it didn’t matter. At least Harry, and maybe everyone else at the small school, knew that I could handle myself.

The weekend passed, and I didn’t notice much. Hermione sent me a few pictures of the dance. They held no interest to me, but at least they were having fun.

On Monday, it seemed that Draco had gone back to ignoring me. At least that’s how it appeared for about the first half of Snape’s lecture. Then every so often I’d catch him staring at me, or my notes. His eyes would quickly dart down when he realized that I had noticed his gazes. It left me frowning and struggling to focus.

It was Wednesday that Hermione and I talked about the calculus test coming up on Friday. I glanced over to Draco, wondering if he’d need help or a study partner for the exam. I wondered if he’d be too proud to ask. Or if I’d be too stubborn to offer.

“Go over there and ask,” Hermione nudged my arm, picking up on my train of thought.

“I shouldn’t,” I shook my head. “Besides, you’d be a better tutor than I am,”

“Yes, but Draco doesn’t like me. You on the other hand,” An amused smile lingered on her face.

“We’re friends,” I insisted. “That’s all,”

“More than it was last week,” She pointed out. “Draco’s always been a stuffy prat, but I see how he is with you. He’s almost... normal.”

My eyes shifted back over to his lunch table, where he was hunched over a book, tuning out the dark-haired girl beside him as she prattled about something adamantly. Something the girl said must have caught Draco’s attention, perhaps she warned him about my gaze, because his eyes met mine. I looked down quickly, my cheeks flushing.

“He’s coming over,” Hermione whispered.

“Stop staring,” I hissed under my breath, breaking my own rule by looking up.

“Can I talk to you?” His voice was quiet and guarded, his eyes sliding over my company.

“What’s up?” I asked casually.

“Alone?”

I looked to Hermione who was saying if I didn’t go, she’d never forgive me with a single look.

“Sure,” I stood, gathering my things and followed him out of the cafeteria and down the halls, to the library. “Did you want help for the calc test Friday?” I asked softly as we sat at the same table as our previous encounter.

“Well, yes,” He chuckled softly. “I... also wanted to talk to you... about last week, and...” His eyes refused to meet mine. I waited in silence for him to continue. “This... this doesn’t have to be anything, and I know you’d probably rather it weren’t... but I’ve never actually...”

I raised my eyebrows, leaning closer to him, the butterflies in my chest growing more restless with each second that passed. They had begun to arrive on the day of the fight, and now it seemed like they were taking flight for the first time.

“You came here a month ago... and in that time have managed to capture every guys heart in this school and then proceeded to turn most of them down. You’ve gotten into fights and out of trouble and you’re really someone I should avoid, but... I don’t want to, not anymore.”

“You think you should avoid me?” The question was soft on my lips. His eyes flashed to mine in brief panic.

“Again, not what you think,” He sighed and scrubbed his face, then proceeded to wince at the pain that no doubt was triggered by his action. “I should avoid you because if I’m being honest, I’m not much better than Harry, and I wouldn’t be someone you’d want to be with. And it would make it easier for the both of us if I avoided you.”

“Cards on the table then?” I mused softly and he nodded, begging my candor. “I know what they say about you. And I have my own opinions, but...” I paused and smiled. “You are the first guy who hasn’t acted like an arrogant jackass to me,” Then mended, “At least in a way that hasn’t made me want to deck you,”

“That’s comforting,” A smile reached his eyes this time.

“And... if it had to be anyone... I’d probably want it to be you,” This surprised him, told by the expression on his face. “In terms of intelligence, I feel semi-confident to say that you wouldn’t drive me mad with your lack of knowledge, because most of the kids at this school are so dull,” I muttered then continued. “You’ve been kind to me, and never pushed me into doing anything I haven’t wanted to do,”

“So, you wanted to beat the shit out of Potter then?” The same smile turned to a grin.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” I chuckled softly. “You gave me a valid excuse, to which I thank you,”

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you? For ya know, being my knight in shining armor coming to my rescue?”

I laughed at his words and shook my head at his antics.

“Does that make you my damsel in distress?” It never occurred to me how easy it might be to talk to Draco, considering we’d barely said a word to each other since my arrival.

“If I must be,” He feigned distaste, the smile not leaving his face long enough to convince me of his façade.

A silence fell between us.

“Is this something then?” His words were riddled with uncertainty.

“It’s not nothing,” I offered. “But I don’t know what it is yet.”

“Would you be willing to see what it is?” Draco’s voice turned hopeful.

“If you’re willing to be patient,” My eyes met his grey ones, storms above the seas held in them. “I don’t really... date. Flings and a list of exes isn’t really on my bucket list ya know?”

“Understandable,” His smile returning. “Not that I prefer them either,”

I sighed softly. “People are gonna talk, if they’re not already,” It was a defeating thought.

“Let them talk,” Draco shrugged, lost in thought. “That’s all they do. No matter where you go,”

“It’s a bit worse in a small town,” I challenged.

“I’ll give you that,” He chuckled. “But things are a bit less scandalous in a small town,”

“Granted,” I thought of New York and how the smallest things morphed into rumors and gossip that took down empires. Here, in the middle of nowhere our problems seemed almost trivial.

“So,” He raised an eyebrow at me, awaiting my verdict.

“So,” I mimicked. “This... this can be something,”

______________________________

Draco had never once thought of dating. Ever. Whereas Pansy couldn’t wait to have her next summer love, Draco... he was reserved. Not that he ever held it against Pansy, and of course he was there to curse the name of her exes with her, but him dating? It was laughable.

He could claim that ‘you weren’t like other girls,’ but it’d be a lie. You were just the perfect mix of being like other girls that appealed to him so much. The girls he had passed in the halls for years and never once felt attraction to were now suddenly a bit more interesting. Granger had calculus with you and was very good at the subject, sharing your passion for it. Ginny had the same fire in her eyes as you did when you were angry. Even Lovegood seemed less like a spaz and a bit more down to earth in the few passing moments that he saw her when picking you up from art class.

“I might warn you,” he whispered gently the next day, hand in yours as you headed to the cafeteria. “Pansy has been dying to talk to you... so heads up,”

A laugh fell through your lips as he opened the door for you, the cafeteria, once buzzing solemnly was now almost hushed as eyes turned to the couple at the door.

“Oi! Malfoy!”

Draco tensed at the curt calling of his name but relaxed when you smiled and waved to Ginny.

“Come sit with us,” The redhead offered. “No need in you taking Y/n away from us,”

“Get Pansy,” You smiled, letting his hand go as you went to drop your stuff at the table before heading toward the lunch line.

“Can I talk to her now?” Pansy demanded.

“She’s all yours,” Draco chuckled, trailing behind his dark-haired friend, a smile resting on his face as you entertained all of Pansy’s question with unbelievable grace.

Tensions were high as Draco sat with you at your usual lunch table, Pansy on his other side, but it seemed that you, Ginny, and Hermione had the boys under control, so nothing more than loathsome glares were exchanged before the conversation settled into something pleasant.

It took a couple weeks, but the bruises on your hand and his jaw faded, then soon Harry’s broken nose was healed, and it was as if nothing had ever happened. As if it were preposterous that your group ever had animosity against another.

True to your word and his, it wasn’t exactly dating. He dedicated a lot of his effort to figuring out what you were comfortable with and what you weren’t. Something that appealed to both of you was holding hands in the hallways. The gawking faces of those around you seemed to keep a smile on your face. You had tamed the rich prat and he had tamed the spitfire in their eyes. And perhaps he was a bit kinder to those around him. And maybe you weren’t as volatile. Maybe you had finally settled into the small town.

Slowly it seemed, you sifted into the role of a girlfriend—well, whatever the equivalent was for you and him. It took some coaxing and a compromise, but you allowed him to pick you up and drive you to school—three out of five days of the week. He looked forward to those mornings and didn’t mind leaving earlier as long as you were at the end of the road under his tires. You were defiant about him paying for things, mundane things like lunch or random gifts, so he tried to keep it at a minimum, or at least didn’t let on how much he had spent on you.

Draco was never one for physical affection. His parents had been distant and reserved. Closed off. He wasn’t bitter about it, but he was worried that it might affect how he was around you. But it seems that you were a bit standoffish as well. The abrasion faded over time, but it was still never over abundant. You held his hand, that was easy and almost routine for the both of you, and though he hadn’t kissed you yet, displays of make outs in the halls never appealed to any part of him. Ever.

But he wouldn’t forget the first time you kissed him. It was a quiet night at your place after you two had studied for Snape’s final. You declared if you looked at another carbon bond you were going to scream, so you slammed your binder shut and led him to the old sofa and pulled him down, both of you nestled beside another as you flickered through TV stations, settling on something that held half your interest.

His arm draped around your shoulder, a gentle sign of affection that you returned by resting your head on his shoulder, your arm stretching across his stomach, holding him. His hand absentmindedly played in your hair, earning soft sounds of agreement from your lips as he continued. Your exhausted face in the TV light held all of his interest. The way your eyelashes fluttered eleven your eyes changed focus, or the way you worried your lip now and again almost thoughtlessly. Never knowing that it drove him mad.

Draco called your name softly, earning your attention. Your faces were inches apart and he could feel your soft breaths mix with his. Your eyes searched his for something—what exactly he wasn’t sure. But you must have decided that whatever you found was enough, because you leaned up and closed the distance between your lips and his.

He smiled at the moment and the ones that followed. The desire that built in his chest and the gentle pant of need that left your lips, flushing across his as you pulled away.

“Thank you,” You had murmured.

He smiled at you simple gratitude and wondered why you thought it necessary. Did you believe that he didn’t want to kiss you? That you weren’t constantly in his psyche? Imagining how soft and warm your skin must be? Wondering if the rest of you was worked and scarred like your hands from years of use?

Not knowing what you were thinking—or why he was for that matter—he pulled you into his lap as the two of you sat on the couch, cradling you close, letting you know that he craved your affection though he wasn’t the best at portraying the ideal.

You had fallen asleep in his lap that night. When your dad came in to check on the two of you, Draco thought your father would be furious but instead he smiled and suggested that Draco carry you to your room so that you could stretched out on your bed and sleep for the night. Those were the few moments that Draco had ever been in your room. It was one of your fathers rules—which he humbly agreed to. The sight made him smile. It was perfectly you. An organized chaos of all of your favorite things.

You barely noticed him setting you into your bed and pulling the covers over your shoulders after removing you shoes.

He preferred your home over his. It took about two months before you coaxed him into the idea of meeting his parents formally. Draco was terrified, knowing that his parents disapproved just about everyone in the town they lived in, save a few families. He wasn’t sure how they felt about the divorcee and his daughter living on the outskirts of town.

“You understand how much of a bad idea this is?” Draco hissed as he walked you up the front steps of the pristine farmhouse—it was the last attempt he made before it was too late to back out.

“They’re just your parents,” You took his hand, saying the words nonchalantly.

“That’s why I’m worried! They’re my parents!” He dismayed.

“Dray, love, it’s gonna be okay,” You reassured, and he couldn’t argue with the honesty in your eyes.

You’d never stop surprising him. He didn’t think ever. He knew his parents were hard people to entertain. There were thousands of unspoken rules that they forced him to follow and you picked up on them as easily as you knew calculus. Sit one way, speak another, you blended in flawlessly. Your persona differed from the one he knew, but it was still perfectly you.

“And you moved here? From New York?” His father eyed you skeptically.

“Father—” A cold look silenced Draco.

“Yes sir,” Your smile was sweet and conniving.

“Was the city not satisfactory for you?”

“It had a certain charm,” You spoke softly. “But I didn’t want to give my teenage years to a concrete jungle when I could call here my home,”

“Well,” Draco’s mother cut in before his father had a change to reply. “You sure do have quite a spirit in you. I can see what our Draco likes about you,”

You smiled and looked over at him. The blush on your cheeks matched his.

“Thank you,”

Lunch came and passed. If it was out of the ordinary in any way to you, you gave no sign.

You did however, pause, gazing at his grand piano that sat in the drawing room, your face pensive.

“You play?” He mused, curious. You hadn’t let on if your hidden talent.

“Not very well,” You muttered back. “It’s been years.”

“Y/n, do you play my dear?” His mother cut in. “You must play for us,”

“I...” Glancing at the piano, you caught your lip in worry.

“Mother, if she isn’t comfortable, she doesn’t have to,” Draco defended.

“No, it’s alright... you must forgive me, it’s been a few years since I’ve played properly.”

The shy smile on your face didn’t fade as you made your way to the instrument. He shadowed you all the while, asking one more time before you began to play.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Your smile turned warmer. “It’ll be alright.”

Draco watched as you placed your hands on the glossy white keys and fell into a pattern as they searched for the next note, the next chord, the next verse. And you kept forging ahead until your piece had come to an end. Draco should have known that you’d lie about having the talent tucked away.

“That was lovely,” His mother fawned from somewhere behind. “Draco you must play with her,”

The eyebrow you raised at him informed him that maybe he also hid the talent from you unintentionally. Who did you think the piano belonged to?

“Any ideas?” He muttered softly, placing his hands on the keys next to yours.

“Moonlight Sonata?” It was a simple request, and one that he knew decently enough to nod.

Draco began the repetitive harmony as you waited for the melody and joined him. Your fingers played in time and in tune as the song unfolded—your hands trailing along the treble clef and his adding in the deeper bass tones.

It wasn’t until one of his hands ran into yours that the dance faltered, and four hands banged on the keys in frustration. Draco laughed at the simple fact that you had the same response to making a mistake as he did while playing. Your soft laughter joined his.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and you both turned, meeting the scrutinizing gaze of his father. Draco looked down anxious and respectful and you followed suit, your hand finding his in reassurance.

“Perhaps if you two had more time to practice together, you two wouldn’t be tripping over another.” His father mused.

“Father?” Draco looked up. “Does that mean?”

“Yes, she is welcomed here any time she wishes.” His father gave a small smile.

Relief flooded through both of you. Draco might have even slouched momentarily.

Masterlist

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yunhowhoitiss · 4 years ago

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐮𝐦

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐞𝐦)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k+

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, fantasy au (?), slow burn, angst if you squint, ft co-worker jongho :)

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You’re finally starting to make ends meet when you start working at your school’s local café, but the world is so full of surprises.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader panics a bit(?)

𝐚/𝐧: I came up with this at 4am a couple days ago so it’s not my proudest, but I felt bad just letting it sit in my drafts so here you go :) enjoy!

masterlist

The gentle smell of freshly baked pastries, accompanied by the stronger aroma of ground coffee beans, wafted through the comfy café. There was a constant chatter as customers scattered around the joint whilst waiting, disguising the soft hum coming from behind the coffee machine. Your face was out of sight, except your hair peeked out above the espresso machine where you were pouring a latté, entertaining yourself by decorating a small heart in the foam. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your eyes turned to soft crescents when soft wisps of your hair had fallen out of your bun and across the sides of your forehead. The steam floating from the cup caressed your hands as you picked up the mug along with an assortment of macaroons.

“Order for Julie: four macaroons, a chai latté, and an espresso affogato, extra dry!” You announced through the coffee shop, turning a few heads.

You made your way back to the station to continue other orders but stopped as you noticed something missing; you had run out of cinnamon to top off drinks. Your coworker ought to know where another carton would be, so you turned towards the kitchen to find him wrist-deep in bread dough.

“Jongho, where are the extra containers of cinnamon again?”

“Oh, those are in the grey cabinet below the pastry display,” he smiled back, all the while kneading the dough.

Flashing him an ‘ok’ sign, you headed back to the front of the shop. You hadn’t been working at the Crescent Café very long, but you happened to be a pretty fast learner, according to Jongho; you could make latte art before other trainees could even make a latte. Quickly getting back to work, you served a customer until something caught you eye whilst jotting down an order on your notepad; had the writing been on your wrist all day? It must just be something I wrote down earlier, you thought.

As the sun made its way towards the horizon, you returned to the comfort of your small apartment to freshen up, eat dinner, and momentarily forget your academic responsibilities— homework, ugh-- before heading to school again the next day. You entered you apartment with a relived sigh and threw your keys onto a nearby dresser, mumbling "I'm home" to nobody in particular. Too lazy to go to your room, you simply undressed as you walked towards the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind you. Note to self: clean that up later.

The moment you stepped into the shower, your shoulders loosened as the hot water washed away your tension. The writing on your wrist caught your eye again. Scrutinizing the messy handwriting, you saw what seemed to be a shopping list.

“Eggs, lucky charms, and aftershave,” you read aloud.

Aftershave? I don’t use that. Could it be… you were lost thought, not noticing the warm steam filling the bathroom. You rubbed at your soapy skin frantically in an attempt to wash off the pen, to no avail. Lately, although rarely, you’d started to notice small bruises or random marks on your skin; you’d never seen writing, though. You briefly wondered if there was possibly another person causing this, but you only saw such things in movies or books... right?

Your heart rate started to pick up, and a heavy sensation built up in your chest. It isn’t possible, it can’t be. The cramped space of your shower started to feel suffocating. Nearly slipping, you jumped out of the shower and dried yourself off. You got dressed in whatever shirt and sweats you found hanging around your bedroom. Was something wrong with you? Am I imagining things? I’m not going crazy, right? Worrisome thoughts flooded your mind as you spiralled deeper into a panic. Calm down. Don’t skip to conclusions. You threw yourself onto the bed. In and out. It’s that simple, you consoled yourself. Slowly but surely, you felt your heart come to a rest.

When you lifted your hand up above your head the writing was still there, unchanged. So you weren’t losing your mind. Could somebody else be the cause of this? Was someone else somehow writing on your skin? No, you felt stupid for even considering the thought; otherworldly things like that only happened in comics or movies. Nevertheless, it was the only possibility that made sense to you in the moment. You let your curiosity get the best of you, and paced towards the living room to grab a pen off the coffee table. On your right hand, you simply wrote "Hi," in hopes of eliciting some sort of response.

The following day proved to be a rather sunny, warm Monday, but you had to spend your time in a closed lecture hall. The cold-toned ceiling lights were much too bright for your liking, and the monotonous professor spouted information maybe only a handful of people were genuinely listening to. That morning, you had woken up to find the list on your wrist gone, leaving only your own message from the night before. You started to think you'd really had a hallucination of some sort.

Half an hour into the lecture, you were already bored out of your mind and absentmindedly sketching intricate doodles on your notebook. I should just give up on biochemistry and become an artist, you mused to yourself. You remained focused on your art, while marks started to take shape on the back of your hand. Your soft eyes widened almost comically at the sight, and you shot a brief look to the people around you to make sure they hadn’t seen anything. Whipping your head back to your hand, you saw that the words stopped writing themselves, leaving a short message saying “Am I going nuts?”

Wondering the same thing yourself, you jotted down a response below it: “I dunno, you tell me,” followed by a cheeky smiley face. If this really was real, you might as well make a good first impression.

Weeks trickled into months as you made short exchanges with your newly discovered friend. Some nights you would write “good night” followed by a drawn heart, earning a sweet “sleep well” in return. You would frequently wake up to thoughtful words written on the palm of your hand, or you'd kindly ask your companion how they were doing when you had a quiet day at work. Even so, all you had learned about this person was their name, age, and that they were a student as well. Yunho was a twenty-one-year-old elementary education major with a minor in physiology-- he also worked as a dance teacher on weekends. You still didn’t know much about each other, so the messages never went further than greetings and simple conversations.

Be that as it may, you liked it like that. Your relationship wasn’t complex; it felt comfortable and pure, and you didn’t want to change it.

Mellow spring afternoons at the café had always been your favourite. The wispy clouds in the sky were painted a buttery yellow by the slowly setting sun, and a steady stream of nearby students stopped by for coffee. Your new friend had sweetly noted "It's golden hour. Made me think of you," on your palm, leaving you in a bubbly mood. You had started your shift by drawing a heart on your wrist, hoping your secret companion would see it.

You worked by the espresso machine as usual, humming to yourself as always. The bell rang, indicating that customers had arrived; it was a group of what seemed to be three guys and a girl.

“We’ll be right with you!” you called. You turned towards the kitchen. “Jongho, can you take their orders?” Silence. “Pretty please? I need to clean up my station.” you persisted.

“Fine, yeah,” you heard your colleague grumble.

As you tidied up behind the machine, you felt as though someone was watching you from the counter. You lifted your head curiously, meeting a pair of inquisitive doe eyes coloured a soft hazelnut brown. The warm eyes instantly turned into friendly half-moons as the boy smiled shyly upon being caught staring. You hurried back to cleaning up your station, hoping to hide the pink tint of your cheeks, but the red shade consuming your ears gave you away.

Jongho handed you the cups for their orders and walked over to the pastry display. You got started on a hot chocolate and three iced americanos, getting back into your “barista brain,” as you liked to call it. After finishing the drinks, you called out "Three iced americanos, a hot chocolate, and two blueberry muffins!”

You turned around to grab straws, and you overheard one of the guys say “I’ll grab ‘em, you guys can stay here.” You made your way back to the counter, looking up only to be met with the boy from earlier. Butterflies littered your stomach, fluttering up into your chest. “Oh, um, here are some straws,” you smiled gingerly.

“Thanks. Could I please get a sleeve as well?” he asked, “For my hot chocolate.”

“Of course!”

As you handed him the cardboard sleeve, his hands caught your eye. Not only were they the most beautiful hands you'd ever laid eyes on, but the boy had a heart drawn on the valley of skin between his left thumb and wrist, exactly where you had drawn one on your own hand just a while earlier. He seemed to recognize the message on your palm as well; a confused expression ghosted over his face. Gathering all your courage, you nodded towards his hand and did your best to form a coherent sentence. “That’s—”

“Your heart,” he interrupted, “Right?”

You giggled softly in response, barely containing your excitement.

“Right,” you smiled down at your feet in an attempt to hide the bashful grin that pulled at your lips. A hand popped up in front of you.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. My name’s Yunho-- Oh, but you know that already, don’t you?” Yunho chuckled sheepishly. You looked up and slipped your hand into his, shaking it gently. His hands were warm, fingertips ever so soft.

“Nice to meet you too.”

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justcourttee · 5 years ago

Text

And They Were Roommates- Pt 1

A/N Trying another soulmate chapter fiction cause I’m a sucker for them :)

Marinette doodled on her wrist, tuning out the professor in favor of annoying her soulmate. She was working on the third flower when a faux cough caught her attention. She dropped her pen, flashing her professor a warm smile, as she propped her chin on her hand.

“Am I boring you Ms. Dupen-Chang?”

“Quite the contrary Professor Lupez, the history of the Mexican-American War is riveting, but if I may, I believe you are reviewing the wrong War with our finals approaching next week.”

The professor raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms to stare down the French girl.

“And which war do you feel we should be covering?”

“You hardly touched on the Korean War and dismissed any questions we might have had on the subject, it will be on the final right?”

Sighing, the professor turned back to the board writing ‘Korean War’ in large letters, tossing the chalk on her desk with more force than necessary.

“Since it is our final review day, I will entertain you this one time Ms. Dupen-Chang, but believe me when I say, I will not miss our little interactions when the semester ends.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Marinette smirked as she picked up her pen to jot down a few notes, peeking a look at her wrist in the process.

“Got caught again? Good. Pay attention in class.”

Her smirk widened as she rolled her eyes. The man always knew what to say, such the romantic. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Marinette began counting down the minutes until her final class ended. After all, American History was the least of her worries and with less than a week till her first final, she’d much rather be at the apartment studying anything else but this.

The clock had just hit the fifty mark and students were already out of their seats, Marinette along with them.

“Ms. Dupen-Chang, a moment please?”

She let out an involuntary groan as she made her way down to the front of the class. Professor Lupez was finishing packing her bag, not paying one mind to Marinette as she bounced from foot to foot, eager to leave. Finally, she took her seat, crossing her arms to look at the girl.

“Have you reconsidered Marinette?”

“Professor Lupez, I adore history, I really do. But it’s not something I want to do for the rest of my life, designing is, and I’m really good at it.”

“It’s your second to last semester Marinette, you’ll be graduating in the spring. You’ve taken enough history credits to satisfy your minor in history and you’re three credits away from having a double major. Would you at least consider that? I hate to see someone with your obvious love and affiliation of the topic not even consider it.”

Marinette let out a sigh, twirling a loose strand of hair.

“I’ll consider it Professor Lupez, but I want to finish my business degree and look into a major in business, not history.”

The professor simply nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“That’s all I wanted to hear. I hope to see you in the spring Marinette,”

“I thought you were going to be so glad to rid yourself of our little interactions.”

“Please,” Lupez rose, collecting her bag in the process. “No other student has been able to rival my knowledge. It would be a shame to never see you again.”

Marinette turned to leave, a smile growing across her face.

“You as well Professor Lupez.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The jingle of keys in the doorknob caught her attention as she looked up from her notes in time to see Chloe fall through the door, dropping a multitude of shopping bags in the process.

“Is this your way of preparing for finals?” A smile tugged at Marinette’s lips as she watched the blonde adjust her hair in the mirror beside the door.

“Dupen-Chang, it’s called retail therapy. Finals are the most stressful part of college and a girl needs to be ready to look fabulous to cover the stress wrinkles.”

She shuttered, sending Marinette into a fit of giggles. Standing up from the couch, she waded through her textbooks to pick up the nearest bag. Together, the two of them managed to make it to their shared room in one trip. As the blonde began to unpack, she blindly threw a shirt in Marinette’s direction.

“What’s this Chloe?”

“Don’t be dull Dupen-Chang,” she rolled her eyes as she pulled out another shirt, examining it closely before slipping it on a hanger. “It’s a new shirt that didn’t fit me how I wanted it to, but I bought it anyways because it should look decent on you.”

“I’m touched.” Marinette wiped a non-existent tear from her eye, holding up the shirt to examine it.

She opened her mouth, only to be cut off by the sound of the front door slamming shut. The two girls shared a grim look before they made their way across the hall, standing in front of Adiren’s door, the light sounds of destruction echoing from inside.

“Adrikins? You okay in there?”

There was silence before the sound of shuffling feet made their way to unlock the door. He pulled it open to reveal red and puffy eyes. Chloe pushed her way inside, dragging him to the bed with her while Marinette leaned against the doorframe, assessing the damage he had done. All the pictures of him and David were torn up and scattered across the floor, David’s scarf laid in different spots, ripped in two, strands of yarn fraying outward.

“David broke up with you?”

Adrien nodded softly, falling into Chloe’s outstretched arms.

“Well he’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous then.”

“No, he’s not, he just found his soulmate, that’s all.” Adrien’s voice cracked as he inhaled sharply, trying to stop a new wave of tears.

Marinette sighed, joining the two on his bed, rubbing his back lightly as her and Chloe both shook their heads. The three of them had been attending Metropolis University for the past four years and every year, Adrien fell quickly and deeply in love with a guy only for them to leave just as fast, leaving him a broken mess.

“I guess we should put out for a new roommate then.”

He sat up stiffly, his eyes darting between the two girls as if daring them to argue. Chloe threw her hands up in the air, letting out a defeated sigh.

“If you’re so sure Adrikins. Mari and I can deliver him his stuff, you just get some rest. We’ll order your favorite take out and be back in an hour or so.”

He nodded, falling backwards on his bed, lost in thought. The two girls stood up, making their way to David’s old room, collecting a few stray boxes on the way.

“This is ridiculous Dupen-Chang. We need a no partner roommate policy. This is the third roommate we’ve replaced since January, all of them breaking Adrikins heart, it is unacceptable, utterly unacceptable.”

The girl just nodded as she pulled David’s suitcase out from the closet, packing his clothes as tightly as she could. Chloe continued to ramble on as the girls filled box after box.

“-and where does David plan on going? Is he just going to move in with his soulmate and hope he’s not a serial killer? That is stupid! I mean seriously, how stupid is this boy? I thought he was in the honor college?”

Marinette just shook her head, picking up a nearby pen, tossing the cap into the trash can.

“Can’t write much tonight. Threat Level Heartbreak”

Tossing the pen into the trash as well, Marinette stood, gathering the two closest boxes.

“Let’s call David and figure out where to drop this stuff off. We’ll put out the roommate ad later tonight.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Around midnight, Marinette shifted from under Adrien and Chloe, causing the two to fall into each other on the couch, neither waking. She pulled the blanket over her friends, turning back to clean up the mess they had made. She threw away the take out containers, reaching for the empty ice cream when she felt the familiar tingle on her arm.

“I have waited the appropriate amount of time, correct? Threat resolved?”

A small smile threatened to take over her whole face as she tossed the empty containers. Setting the trash bag outside their apartment door, she pulled out the pen holding her hair together.

“Threat resolved. Surprised you’re still up.”

The previous statement disappeared from her arm, a new one beginning to etch in its place.

“Wanted to make sure you survived, I know the complexity of that threat.”

She let out a quiet chuckle, leaning down to pick up the spoons scattered across the coffee table. Moving to the sink, she gently scrubbed away her marks, uncapping the pen to respond.

“I think I’m getting better at it. Easier and faster each time.”

Letting the water run, she washed the few dishes, placing them on a towel to dry.

“Your friend should make better partner choices.”

“Hell yeah he should.” Marinette mumbled under breath as she ejected the Titanic disk, placing it in its case before turning off the TV. Moving to the bathroom, she ran her toothbrush under the water, placing it in her mouth before washing her arm again.

“Definitely.”

She just finished brushing her teeth when the tingling caught her attention once more.

“Get some sleep Angel”

Her ears burned from the nickname he insisted on calling her. She always hated when the twenty four hours had passed and the ink faded on it’s own. Washing away the ink was always a quick and effective way to communicate, but if she wanted to leave a message, she left the spot alone and her soulmate would be marked for a full twenty-four hours before the message disappeared.

“Will do mon amour. Goodnight”

Crawling into her bed, Marinette pulled out her phone, sending a quick email to the University Newsletter to request a spot for the roommate ad.

“What do you think Tikki? Can we manage to get a roommate that will last at least one full semester?”

Tikki flew from the doll mansion that Chloe had insisted on buying for their kwamii’s. Something about living in comfort and luxury is better for their powers? Honestly, Marinette didn’t care, as long as Tikki and Pollen were happy, so was she.

“I think it’s something you shouldn’t worry about right now Marinette. After all, your first final is in less than a week, the less stress the better.”

Marinette nodded, placing her phone on it’s charging pad, settling into her pillow.

“You’re right Tikki, after all, I made some extra commission money this month, making rent should be easy, even without a roommate.”

The kwamii nodded, placing a light kiss on her chosen’s forehead, watching as the girl drifted off to sleep.

“Sleep well Marinette.” Tikki flew back to the dollhouse, settling into their own bed, careful not to wake Pollen. Within minutes, the kwamii was asleep.

A tingling threatened to wake the sleeping girl, but she was too tired to open her eyes to check. In perfect script, four words etched their way into her skin while she slept, something that happened every night after her soulmate was sure she was asleep.

“I love you Angel”

And just as quickly, the confession disappeared. Three years of writing to each other and neither would admit it, but they both knew. They had both fallen for people they had never met.

Tag List:

@damianette-is-life

#maribat #roommates #daminette

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