#there are so many nice things but ill try n keep it a short list; just the stuff my girls absolutely have to have someday

[questingquasar]

168 enstylopedia pages left out of 443 -- being roughly 2/3 through, and for how long I've been playing, I might be almost caught up to what was current when I started

then I can make a wishlist ahah;;

[edie-baby]

to have and to hold | juri vips

summary: Juri Vips was a bastard of a teammate. Mostly just because you were insanely in love with him and his flirtatious ways. Juri senses a change in your behaviour and when things begin going back to normal, Juri just fucks it up again. (Similar premise to the Mr & Mrs imagine with Liam, but different[?])

word count: 2894

warnings: swearing, still. i don't think i should have to put warnings about swearing anymore, it's basically a given.

Working with Juri Vips was a fucking trainwreck. There was no light way to put it, it was messy, it was painful, and yet you could never stop fucking staring at him. Being his teammate in F2 for the past year and a half, the two of you had gotten quite close, to the point where his family invited you on vacation with them when they were going, and you had joined them once, but realised about two hours in, that it was a thinly veiled attempt from literally his entire family to get the two of you together.

And while you were all for it, being forced to spend so much time with Juri, while he was shirtless nonetheless, was a literal dream come true, it was also incredibly painful for you to stop from pouncing on him at any given moment. Because as much as his family thought there was something between you, it was purely Juri’s charisma and character to be almost constantly flirting with you.

You remember the first time the two of you, a few other F2 drivers had come along as well, had gone to the beach and he had seen you bust out the bikini you knew made you look like a hot piece, he hadn’t shut up about it, or you, for weeks afterwards.

“Well look at you, little miss supermodel. I would have thought you’d be walking catwalks with legs like that, not pushing pedals like the rest of us. God, you look like you just stepped out of my dreams and onto this beach. If you keep looking like that, I think I might have a problem to deal with later in the shower.” He had hollered, and many of the guys around you either joined in or had nothing to say but gawk. Juri’s comments had cemented themselves in your brain however, calling back upon them whenever you felt less than top dollar, which you had to admit was becoming more often in recent months.

Juri had noticed your slowly waning confidence, of course he had. His gorgeous view of you in crop tops, little skirts, and tight shorts had turned into oversized shorts, hoodies, and ill-fitting jeans. All of which still made you the most beautiful girl in the world, but there was something missing from your aura, a general happiness that had been lacking since the new season started a few months ago. In the entire time Juri had known you, you were never one to listen to other’s opinions of you, whether they be good or bad, the only people you had ever listened to and taken words to heart from were himself, your parents, and your boyfriend.

Somehow in the span of about three minutes, Juri had tracked the four most likely culprits of your diminished ego. He knew he hadn’t said anything harmful or damaging to you since the season began, as many of your conversations had revolved around racing, other drivers in the paddock, or your family. Your parents, he was confident in, he had met them many times before, and they were always genuinely warm and welcoming, he supposed there might have been another side to them, though he believed he would have picked up on it by now. Which leaves only your boyfriend, whom Juri had zero confidence in.

Tye was nice, almost disgustingly so, but he was also much too proud of being nice for it to be genuine. He would open car doors for you, give you flowers every few months, and once bought you a necklace with a pendant of his name. But you would never forget that he did those things for you, because as soon as you would mention something relatively negative, those few acts of kindness were shoved down your throat.

Juri, of course, was not privy to that information. All he knew was that Tye’s possessive behaviour and complete lack of care for your wishes meant that there was something beneath the surface Juri was sure was the reason for your confidence, or lack thereof.

So when you came into work one day, to continue shooting some videos for the YouTube channel, wearing a gorgeously fitted pair of jeans, and a halter-neck singlet, Juri knew something was afoot. Also notable was your lack of gold necklace and your beaming smile toward the Estonian.

“You gonna keep staring like that, or do you want to take a photo?” You asked, your voice holding the teasing lilt Juri had missed in the past weeks. Without breaking his gaze from your body, Juri reached into the pocket of his shorts, his hand retrieving his phone and taking a photo of you standing there, tight clothes and bright smile in all its glory. He smirked when he saw your barely concealed smile.

“You’re in a much better mood than usual. What happened?” Juri couldn’t help but ask, the drastic shift in your mood was more than intriguing to him. Your smile widened, taking the last few steps toward his position in a chair behind the large conference table.

“I lost 80 kilos last night.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Juri, the glint in your eyes, the proximity and the tone were all so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but meet you halfway, barely three inches between your faces as the words processed in his mind.

Juri glanced down at your body confusedly, trying to figure out where exactly the 80kg had disappeared from. Then, the pieces began clicking into place. The lack of gold necklace, the tighter clothes, the glowing smile, none of which would have been staring Juri in the face if Tye had a say.

“You dumped Tye?” Juri questioned, his eyes lighting up, his raise in volume betraying just how excited he was for you, and himself. You nodded, eyes softening as you watched the pure joy cross Juri’s face. Him being happy was something that always warmed your heart, but Juri being happy about you finally being happy? You were sure your knees were about to buckle.

“I’m glad. I can have you all to myself now.” Juri grumbled, reaching for your hands that were braced against the arms of his chair. With a sharp tug, your balance was offset, and your body was tumbling toward Juri’s. You landed with a giggle in Juri’s lap, his own laughter joining yours and the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s presence after having an intangible wall built between you during your relationship with Tye.

Juri couldn’t hold a taken woman like he loved her, not when that taken woman wasn’t his to hold. And you, how could you revel in the feel of man’s touch that was anyone’s but the man you supposedly loved. You couldn’t break out in goosebumps, or have a shiver roll down your spine when you felt the familiar pressure of his calloused fingertips pressing into the skin of your back, desperate to keep you close. You weren’t allowed to sigh in content when you felt the warmth of his body seep into your skin, or whimper when his hot breath rolled over the skin of your neck.

But now you could. Now, without the moral implications of enjoying another man, you could sink into this all-consuming feeling you have when Juri is near.

“Morning you two. We’ve got a video to film in the garage if you want to follow me?” The social media manager, Georgina,  a lovely woman in her 40s whom you always went to for advice and style tips, poked her head into the room you and Juri were tangled in, a cheeky smile on her face when she spotted the somewhat compromising position. A blush fell heavy on your cheeks, and you were quick to try and scramble away from Juri.

He had other ideas though. When Juri began moving, you clutched onto him for dear life, terrified of falling to the ground even though it was only about two feet. Your arms circled around his neck, your legs fully wrapping around his hips from where you were straddling him on the chair. His large hands came to rest on the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up higher on his body. Your legs clenched around his middle, the feel of his fingers pushing into the soft skin of your legs was electrifying, and you were sure if you didn’t have a video to film, you would have been telling the Estonian to find an unoccupied office to take what he needed from you.

But alas, you had a job to do. So, still wrapped around Juri like a vice, he carried you through the Hitech office, nodding to other staff you passed, and occasionally nuzzling his nose into your neck to get a good whiff of your perfume. Juri had said multiple times the scent was intoxicating and could bring any man to his knees. You may have gone out and bought an extra bottle to ensure you never ran out after that.

After a few minutes, you stepped into the garage with Juri, well, he stepped in you just kind of floated in. The scent of grease, rubber and a slight hint of fuel invaded your nostrils, and you sighed in content. Juri chuckled at your actions, he always loved watching you step into a garage, or out onto the pit lane to take in the smells of burnt rubber. You told him every time he laughed at you that it evoked a calm feeling within you, it was nostalgic, filled with happy memories from your childhood and the memories of races you shared with Juri on track.

“Alright lovebirds, can we get you in these chairs and we’ll start explaining while we finish getting set up.” Georgina stated, smiling fondly at the love between her two youngsters. Juri sat you down in one of the chairs sitting before the cameras, not leaving your side for long as he planted himself in his own chair and dragged you as close as possible.

Georgina explained the rules of the game, and the way you would be playing it, choosing you to sit in the background listening to music whilst Juri answered questions about you. First, they gave you a list of questions about yourself, asking to circle the correct answers and they would be compared to Juri’s during the game.

“Ok Juri, the first question. How old was Y/N when she started karting?” Georgina questioned. She watched you in the background closely to ensure you couldn’t hear anything, but you were blissfully unaware of everything around you, headphones in your ears, legs tucked up on the chair, scrolling through your phone with the occasional giggle escaping your lips. Each time Juri heard the angelic sound, he would turn to look at you with a look so soft it made the entire team’s heart swell.

“Uh, I think she was 10, I know she started late because she had to argue with her parents to let her do it with her brothers, and I think 10 is about the right age.” Juri answered, looking as though he was thinking quite hard about it. It had been a long time since the two of you discussed your start in karting, it was one of the first conversations you had together, and since then you hadn’t had to talk about generic teammate topics. Juri was proud that he remembered something seemingly insignificant from a year and a half ago, but supposed when it came to you he could never forget a thing.

“Alright, next question. What is Y/N’s biggest fear? Is it A, the ocean, B, goblins, or C, heights?” Juri’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he heard the second answer, trying to figure out why it was even an option in the first place. His eyes focused on one spot on the floor, his brain moving a mile a minute to analyse conversations he had with you.

“Well, we’ve been to the beach together a few times, and thinking back I don’t think she’s ever gotten into the water. So maybe the ocean, but she also said once when we were looking at a castle that she doesn’t like gargoyles, so goblins could be a thing. But she’s definitely not scared of heights. She’s gone skydiving, bungee jumping and climbed bridges and things like that. So I’m going to say the ocean. I feel like I would definitely know if she was scared of something like goblins.” Juri laughed, his eyes still glued to the spot on the floor, his thoughts flowing through his mouth with little consideration of how they could be interpreted.

“What is something Y/N never leaves the house with?” Georgina was hopeful for this question, she was sure it could be the catalyst for the two drivers to finally own up to their feelings after reading your answer. Juri listened to the multiple choice answers, but none of them sounded just right.

“So, the rings sound the closest, but sometimes she will wear lots, and other times only a few, and when she can’t wear them on her hands, she’ll thread it onto a necklace to wear under her race suit, or something so yeah, I’d say the rings.” Juri answered, turning to look at you behind him, wearing the exact ring he was talking about on the ring finger of your right hand.

“And what ring is the one she wears on her necklace?” Georgina probed, knowing the answer and just wanting to see the way Juri heated up when he talked about it.

“Uh, it’s a diamond ring that has a J engraved on the inside.” Juri answered, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. A smile broke out on your face as you watched Juri, his flustered state always made you giggle as he was such a confident and put-together person usually. As a habit, you began spinning the ring on your right hand around, feeling the shape of the diamonds and knowing the initial carved into the inside was a claim over you.

“Do you know where she got it?” Georgina asked. She was getting frustrated, Juri was much more calm about revealing the intimacy of the ring than she had hoped.

“I gave it to her. About a year ago, and then she gave me a necklace with an (your initial) on it. I wear it every day, and it’s the only piece of jewellery I wear while I drive.” Juri answered, his fingers reaching up to toy with the thin gold chain hidden beneath his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at you, spotting the spinning ring immediately and smiling at you.

You looked up at him, a dazed look as you stared at the gorgeous man in front of you. He could see the stars in your eyes, staring at him as though he hung the moon, and if he was honest with himself, if you asked, he would. There was nothing you could ask of him that would be too much, even if you didn’t ask, he would do everything for you. No one had ever held this power over him, he wasn’t even sure it would feel this good if it were anyone else, but you just did something to him. You unlocked a part of him he didn’t know existed.

You were just, everything. To him. You were everything he ever wanted, ever needed, even everything he didn’t know he needed. You opened him up, poured sunshine into his life in the form of your smile, happiness penetrated his bones because of your laugh. He didn’t want to lose that again, didn’t want to lose you to another man. He needed you, and he needed you now.

It was like slow motion, the way Juri surged out of his chair toward you, his hands cupping your jaw roughly as he guided you to your feet. The laptop on the ground pulled the earphones from your ears, your phone clattering to the floor in your surprise. Your hands reached up to fist in his shirts, not wanting to lose this proximity. You had him in your grasp and you’d be damned if you ever let him go again.

Juri pressed his lips to yours, as soft and warm as you’d imagined them so many times before. You kissed him back with ferocity, the eighteen months worth of emotion poured into a kiss to communicate your feelings in a way that didn’t need words. He kissed back just as fiercely, his hands holding your face still to allow him to do exactly what he needed. You were pliable to his every demand, putty in his hands. Juri had always had this effect on you, every fleeting touch or brush of a hand on your waist made your knees weak and your stomach flutter with the force of a thousand butterflies.

Juri pulled away, barely a breath between your lips as he panted slightly. Your eyes were trained on his lips, the fullness of his bottom lip, the redness from your assault on them making them look all the more kissable.

“So, how about we switch that ring to the other hand and really make this a Mr & Mrs video?”

[landinoandco]

|Shutter speed|

Chapter two : A New Beginning

{Lando Norris x Reader}

Summary: A photographer. A pair of F1 drivers. Triangles. A sticky situation of morals and fighting fate. What could go wrong?

Warnings: none :) apart from a mention of grief and passing of a loved one

Rating: teen and up

Word count: 2.9 k 

A/n: welcome to the second chapter of 'Shutter speed.'

I'm going to start a taglist so comment on this post or message me if you would like to be added :)

Previous chapters: Chapter one

Chapter two: A new beginning

By the time Georgie had raced home, it had stopped raining and the sun was beginning to fight its way through the mass of clouds that had filled the sky. The journey home had given Georgie plenty of time to think - to mull everything over about the crazy afternoon she had just endured. They had finally booked their first event since lockdown, the insanely attractive stranger she had met in the coffee shop but somehow it all ended back to a person she thought she had finished thinking about - not that you ever could. Her Theo. Her lovely Theo. 

Theodore was her childhood sweetheart. Theo was everything to her, llike Georgie was everything to him. They had their whole future planned out: travelling around the world and experiencing different cultures, photographing their entire experience and showcasing the beginning of their journey through life on an Instagram they had set up. Before settling down and starting a family of their own. Together. It was going to finish like all the fairy tales did...

And everybody lived happily ever after.

In hindsight, they had jinxed themselves before they had even started, not long after they had finished their A - levels and about to start their next chapter at Uni - Theo had fallen ill. Georgie refuses to acknowledge the illness for she believes it shouldn’t be the way he is remembered, instead reminiscing on the short but meaningful life he lived. Theo died not long after he was diagnosed, leaving Georgie behind with a new and tainted meaning to happily ever after because if it wasn’t with him then what did it truly mean? 

As they say hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Even now, 5 years on, 23 years of age, she is still plagued with the memories and the thoughts of everything they could have had but for some reason the universe was against it all. She hated to think of herself as unlucky because she was blessed to have met Theo in the first place. 

Shaking the memories from her head, she unlocked the apartment door and trudged through - hanging her coat and bag on the hooks then making her way over to the breakfast bar. On top was a fluorescent post-it note that read: “Popped into the city to pick up some new lenses for the cameras. Fill you in when I get back. Fancy getting a takeaway tonight to celebrate? Love you lots ~ Maisie.” 

A takeaway was exactly what was needed. She thought. And a nice warm shower. 

The thing Georgie loves about showers is that they give her the ability to find an answer and solution to pretty much everything and anything. She spent a lot of time in the shower after Theo passed, it was the only thing she could justify enjoying. Striping her clothes off and chucking them into a pile on the floor, she reached into the shower to turn it on - the water immediately rushing out and crashing loudly onto the floor. As soon as she was happy with the temperature, she stepped in - letting the warm water droplets wash all of her worries away. It was the only thing that she felt helped her relax; come to terms with everything she was feeling. 

Her first and main worry was what they were going to do after Goodwood. If they didn’t find consistent work soon they were going to run out of money - they were lucky to have made some good investments and savings leading up to this point to have coped through lockdown. 

Georgie grabbed the shampoo and rubbed it thoroughly through her long waves. She had been to Goodwood a few years back -  Theo had taken her. It was the best date she had ever been on - she remembered it as clear as day. They had found an empty bench to sit on next to the hill the cars climbed in the ever popular annual hill climb - it was there and then they had decided they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together and travel the world. 

Stepping back under the water, she let the water take the shampoo away, watching as the bubbles slipped through the drain. Theo had been a massive formula one fan - dragging Georgie into the sport as well. Jenson Button had been his favourite driver and McLaren his favourite team so naturally that was hers as well. As soon as he passed Georgie had nothing to do with the sport - she refused to watch it and stopped keeping up with the teams. 

She reached for the conditioner bottle, pressing her lips together in a tight line. All of this thought about Theo and the racing world she turned her back on - a slight regret forming in the pit of her stomach, was she ready to go back to it? She remembered the atmosphere of Goodwood when she had been, people from all over the world gathered to celebrate the one thing they had in common: their love for cars. She was slightly envious of the people who got to travel the world, following in the car's tyre tracks and capturing the moments you only get to experience once in a lifetime. 

Georgie paused and furrowed her eyebrows, she was struck with an idea. Whether it was absolutely brilliant or outright stupid and unrealistic, she was yet to find out. Hoping out of the shower and grabbing her towel, she made her way to her room. It was worth a look, she supposed, there was no harm in that. Once she was dressed, she sat at her desk and turned on her laptop; begging fate to be on her side today. 

“Honey, I’m home.” Called a voice from the kitchen. 

“Hey sweetie.” Georgie shouted back, “I’ll be with you in just a moment.” 

She pulled up the McLaren careers page, her mouse hovering over the view jobs link. Georgie was ready to travel the world. She was ready to experience life again - after all it was Theo’s dying wish that she completed everything they were setting out to do. Perhaps she was selfish for not coming to this conclusion sooner. 

She clicked. 

Taking one last deep breath, Georgie placed her hands to her forehead and moved her face closer to the screen as she read through the roles. Tyre performance engineer. No. Finance analyst - production. Definitely not. Hope was diminishing rapidly even though it was as she had expected. The chances of finding anything suitable were low. She was coming to the bottom of the list when a role jumped out at her. But not impossible apparently. 

Lead photographer - team. 

And the deadline was Tuesday at 11.59 pm. They had the best part of 6 hours to complete this application. It was going to be tight but possible. 

She jumped up and rubbed her hands over her face in disbelief. Running her hands through her hair, she sat back down - hardly being able to keep still. It was only an application advert - many people were going to be applying. She thought as she exhaled loudly. More experienced people. Skimming through the description and requirements, she almost felt like she was dreaming. It was perfect. The role was to travel with the whole team and capture every moment to later be used on social media and advertising. 

“Everything alright in here?” Maisie poked her head around the door. She was faced with an almost tearful Georige. Her words almost trailed off.

“Do you want to travel the world?” Georgie asked her, her voice wavering slightly.  Maisie seemed taken aback as she moved into the room and sat on Georgie’s bed. “I’m sorry - what? Have you forgotten what’s been going on recently?”

“With a formula one team, Mclaren to be precise.” Georgie corrected and moved aside so Maisie could see the screen. Silence fell between the pair as Maisie read on, Georgie’s leg had started bouncing in anticipation. Minutes later she was met with a frown. “That’s not quite how I had imagined you would react.” Georgia mumbled, sighing. She mirrored her friend's expression, chewing on her bottom lip. 

“Before we start fantasizing, I just want to make sure you’re ok with this.” Maisie said softly, taking one of Georgia’s hand in hers. Georgia nodded slowly, rubbing her thumb over her friend’s hand. “This would be his dream. I know he’s watching us - he really is looking out for us, Maise. I want to do it for him.”  

Maisie’s smile grew, “As long as you’re sure. Come, let’s discuss it over take away and I will explain how this weekend is going to work.” Georgie stood up, grabbing her laptop and a notebook, “One thing is for sure. We are going to need one hell of a portfolio.” 

It was now Sunday - the final day at Goodwood. 

To say the rest of their week leading up to this point went smoothly would be a lie. In the end it all got a bit complicated. They submitted their application at 10:58 pm that Tuesday evening - due to it only being a singular role they applied as their business in hope that the combined experience would set them apart from other candidates. Wednesday they spent the day prepping for Goodwood - trying out the new lenses and practising photographing cars they found around London. They were going to watch the Goodwood livestream on Youtube Thursday and Friday to see what they were going to be faced with that Saturday. Until Maisie received a call. It was Mclaren and they had gotten through to the interviews - all taking place that Thursday afternoon on teams. As it turns out, they wanted to have hired someone for the role by Friday in order to be ready for the British Grand Prix the following weekend. 

“I mean it makes sense,” Maisie said, blowing her coffee to cool it down before taking a long sip. “It is their home grand prix after all.” 

Georgie chuckled, “It’s just, I feel like if we were to explain to anyone they would think we were making this up. It’s all happening so quickly.” 

That Friday, ahead of their debut at Goodwood on the Saturday, they got the call. According to the lady Maisie spoke to, it was very close between them and another candidate but the fact they were working at Goodwood tipped the scales in their favour. 

“And.” Maisie started. “We are going to meet with a man called Zac Brown on Sunday, he is the CEO of McLaren Racing-” Georgie was very lucky to have Maisie as she was the businessman - or women in this case - out of the pair. Her people skills were unmatched, how she did it Georgie would never understand. 

Now on Sunday, Georgie was quite sad to see it coming to an end. The atmosphere was one that she had never quite experienced before - it was one that filled her with pride and adoration; something she hadn’t felt in a long time, not to this extent anyway. The whole weekend, a beaming smile had been plastered onto her face - so much so that her facial muscles were beginning to ache. The whole community of people were ecstatic to be there, watching on in excitement as a sport that had missed the company of their crowds opened its doors once again. It wasn’t long before she had agreed to meet with Maisie ahead of their meeting with Zac Brown that she found herself walking up the infamous hill. The loud buzz of conversation seemed to fade, instead the only sound she could hear was the rumble of engines as they came cruising by. She stopped at a clearing where a bench stood proudly, smiling softly to herself as she slung her camera strap over her shoulder, stuffing her hands into her trouser pockets. It hadn’t aged a day. 

Lando Norris had decided to take a break from the main McLaren marquee - he had just finished his final drive of the day and was looking for some time to reflect on the weekend he had just had after having the honour of driving the three cars that Aryton Senna won McLaren their championship titles. It had been a tough season leading up to this point - after Carlos left to join Ferrari he felt this year all eyes would be on him. Many expected Lando to fall into the shadow of his new teammate Daniel Ricciardo, everybody expected him to fade back into the background. Perhaps that was why he trained so hard during the winter break - he had pushed himself right up to the limit. Lando wanted to prove to himself more than anyone else that he was a good driver and he did have potential to fight those at the top, after the taste of a podium in Austria - he was hungry for more. Even as a young boy during his karting career, Lando put pressure on himself - to strive to be the best on the grid - sometimes it meant he forgot to enjoy himself because he was so worried about what other people thought about him. 

He had reached a clearing past the trees. All weekend he had kept half an eye out for the girl at the coffee shop. Part of him was disappointed not to have seen her, he really wanted that second chance. He came to a stop and checked his watch - it wasn’t long until Zac wanted him back; he mentioned briefly about a pair of photographers joining the team. They would be replacing his friend Jason after he decided that travelling just wasn’t practical anymore, who could blame him, his first child was on the way and he wanted to be there with his wife every step of the way. 

Lando brushed a hand through his curls, casting his gaze around before he would make his way back. When a bench caught his eye or more specifically the girl sitting on the bench. She sat with a content smile dancing on her lips, a reminiscent glaze coated her eyes. He took a step towards her, there was something familiar about her. It was like his feet were frozen in place - his brain was telling him to go back but his gut told him to stay put. He stood for a minute or two before it hit him - square in the face and quite frankly he couldn’t believe his luck. It was the girl from the coffee shop. Right in front of him. It was now or never. Lando took a calming breath before going and sitting next to her. 

Georgie was rudely pulled from her thoughts when a person sat down on the bench next to her. She moved her head slightly to see who the intruder was when her heart stopped. Recognition dawned on her face. Georgie knew instantly he had recognised her as the corners of his mouth twitched into a shy smile. “Hi.” His tone silvery and almost breathy. 

“Hey.” She beamed back, “I’m Georgie.” She said, gazing up at him, admiring the way the sun caught around his halo of curls giving them an almost angelic glow.

“Lando.” He told to her, the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. Neither of them could quite believe that they were sitting with each other. 

“I - uh - It’s a wonderful day for it, isn’t it.” Georgie had panicked. She didn’t know what else to say and her mother used to always say:  ‘if in doubt talk about the weather.’ It was something along those lines anyway.  Silently cursing herself, she cringed at her awkwardness only to hear him chuckle at her comment. 

“It’s much better now the rain has cleared off.” Lando instantly felt relaxed around her, he didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was that she seemed just as socially inadequate as he was. “So Georgie.” He savoured the way her name rolled off his tongue. “What brings you to Goodwood? I hope you don’t mind me saying this but I heard you talking about it before you rushed off the other day.” 

Georgie inched closer, almost leaning into the comfort and warmth he seemed to provide. “My friend and I are photographers and she somehow got us into working for the Goodwood Festival of Speed brand. I still don’t quite know how she did it, for some reason she didn’t want to talk about it.” She trailed off, a pink tinge creeping onto her cheeks as she had come to a rather astonishing conclusion. The corner of Lando’s mouth lifted at her innocence. “Anyway.” She moved on quickly. “As it turns out I am also here to meet my new boss.” 

“It’s almost like it was meant to be.” Lando quirked. “Who are you working for now?” 

“I’m the new photographer for the McLaren formula one team.” She explained, pride laced in her tone. Lando’s eyes widened, his mouth fell open in disbelief before he caught himself. Composed his expressions and stated very plainly...

“I’m Lando Norris. I drive for the McLaren formula one team. As it turns out you and I are about to attend the same meeting.” 

Taglist: (please message me or leave a comment if you would like to be added :))

@mjuikoli​ @httplayer​ @phatyak​

[theonewiththefanfics]

Heartbreak For A Gift (Part 1/?)

Synopsis: Sometimes relationships start off like love stories in books. And sometimes they fall apart in a minute.

(Kind of an AU! I guess??)

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst bruh

Warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, but nothing else that I can remember. Minimal editing

Word count: 2547

A/N: Please note I don’t know what the situation is between Harry and Olivia, if it’s a stunt or they’re actually dating. Whatever the case do not harass them. This is fiction and only for the purposes of the story. If they’re actually together - GOOD FOR THEM!!! No one is entitled to other people’s private lives!

Can be read as a one-shot if ya want, but I might turn this into a very small series cause I already have ideas as to where to go further with this, so hit me up if that’s what you’d like :)

If you know you’re a part of my tag list and see you’ve been crossed out, it means I can’t tag you for whatever reason. If you still would like to be a part of my tags please message me with your previous username and updated so I can update my lists :)

When she’d first said yes to going out with Harry, she’d had zero ideas as to who he really was. Well, that was a lie, she obviously knew of him, it’s not like she completely lived under a rock, and she’d seen a couple of his interviews, but 'One Direction' or Harry Styles as a solo artist hadn’t been that big of parts of her life, so she didn’t really care much for it.        They’d met at a bookstore on a sunny day in London. That’d been a good day. Her boss had let her go home a bit earlier than usual, the weather was warm, but not it’s-so-warm-I’m-sweating-my-ass-off kind of warm, sunglasses covering her eyes and hair free as the warm summer winds blew through her locks she was walking beside the Thames on her way inside the heart of the city.        Because she had a little bit more free time, she decided to pop into Waterstones, which was generally not a good idea for Y/N to do if she had things in store for the day; this time she could spend the rest of the evening if she wanted to, browsing books and living her best life.        Surprisingly for London, that particular Waterstones, even though it was in a densely populated area, was pretty empty, so Y/N felt free to skim through the options without having to press through a crowd of people to find the next section.        As she scanned what the shelves of New-Adult fiction offered, a man also came to look at the books. He stayed a bit further away, but he was certainly someone who caught people’s attention with the bright green daisy-print covered T-shirt, chequered shorts and the three scrunchies on his wrist.        The thing was as much as he’d grabbed Y/N's attention, she was more interested in the Waterstones exclusive edition of a book she’d been dying to buy, so when she saw it just sitting on the shelf, a small gasp escaped her lips.        Two eyes were immediately on her, and Y/N could feel them slip back onto her form from time to time as she greedily paged through the book, but she couldn’t say her own Y/E/C eyes didn’t flit over to the man as well.        He had a small bun on the top of his head, curly hair pushed away from the face, cheekbones for days, which were shaved and smooth and perfectly groomed brows arching over what seemed to be green orbs which were looking at the spine of a crime book way too intensely for it to be genuine interest. All in all, his side profile would be that of one of the characters Y/N’d simp over in a book, let alone the nails painted all colours of the rainbow which made her happy because nothing was better to see someone sticking it to the patriarchy.        But their little meet-cute was interrupted as an employee apologised while he tried to squeeze past them with a giant cart filled with new release books, and almost like a lost puppy, she started to follow the stacks of books when a hand on her shoulder made her spin around only to be faced with the man. She instantly recognised his face, but, at the same time, couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him that was so familiar.

       “Sorry,” he said in a rough voice. “But you left this behind.”        And in his hands was the Waterstones exclusive.        Y/N’s eyes widened as she gingerly took it from him. “Oh my god, thank you! I’ve got no idea how I let it out of my fingers.”        He chuckled, motioning with his chin to the employee disappearing by the corner. “I’d say you got distracted.”        “Yeah, a little.” She bit her lip and drummed her nails against the cover of the book. “Well, uh… thank you. For not grabbing it for yourself.”        But he just lifted his hand. “More of a Murakami kind of a man.”        “Yes, well, I,” she nodded towards the book in her own hand, “like to read about people living out my dreams.”        He raised his eyebrow. “It’s a murder mystery.”        “Your point?”        “Would you say I have issues then if I wanted to ask you out on a date?”        Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest, but he looked so nervous, so genuinely open and almost scared, she couldn’t feel any ill intentions from him, so she tapped her chin a bit as if contemplating before saying, “No. I’d say you have good taste actually.’        The relieved laugh he let out made him seem even prettier than Y/N already thought he was.        He extended his palm towards her, swaying on the balls of his feet a bit. “ ‘M Harry. Would probably be proper to know my name before we go anywhere further.”        “Y/N.” She smiled and clasped his hand in hers. “And it would probably be proper to know I was kidding about the whole ‘watching others live out my dreams’. People living out my dreams are actually in the books having hot sex with Fae.”        His laughter was loud and sudden, making Y/N duck down like she was in her Uni library and the librarians would come and shush them. But now, almost two years later since they’d first met, there was no sign of those butterflies she’d felt in the middle of the thriller section of Waterstones. Now Y/N was sitting by a large table, body slowly numbing as was her mind to keep the pain from her heart spreading. Whatever Jeff was talking about now, she didn’t hear. There were eyes on her, had to be to gauge her reaction, but they wouldn’t get anything more than slightly parted lips and a blank stare turned towards the marbled top.        She knew Harry was nervous; from her peripheral vision, she saw his thumb scraping at the rest of his nail lacquer, chips of pastel yellow and green polish flaking off and floating to the carpeted floor.        Y/N didn’t like LA. She’d never wanted to go there. Maybe as a tourist for a couple of weeks sometime down the line, but because of Harry and his commitment to ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’ and because he’d basically pleaded with her for days on end, she’d agreed to move there with him for the time he was shooting the movie.        It’s not that the city wasn’t beautiful. The sun, the sea, the greenery surrounding her was absolutely breath-taking, but it was the people that she didn’t really mesh with. Sure, she knew dating Harry came with a lot of what LA’s society was like. The need to look absolutely physically perfect to match the unachievable barbie standard, the fake niceness people usually exhibited just to get something for themselves or possibly raise them higher on the popularity scale, but Harry had always wiped away those doubts. But now all of that seemed like one big lie. He’d told her he didn’t care for any of it, not when it concerned Y/N nor when it concerned himself. But the contract in front of them said something different.        A hand touched her back. “Y/N?” Harry’s voice was tentative, wavering at the end of her name.        For the first time since the proposal had been thrown out, she lifted her eyes to look around at the people in the room.        Harry, Jeff, both their attorneys and Olivia Wilde and her attorney. The other woman, once their gazes met, immediately looked away. Y/N wanted to scoff at that.        “What…” Harry gulped, brushing a hand across her back. She’d never flinched away from him, but this time she did. Harry visibly shrunk in his seat and pulled back. “What do you think?”        What did she think? Well, she was thinking a lot of things, and the urge to say all of them was immense, but instead Y/N bit down on her tongue, reaching for the legal papers in front of her and skimmed through them.        She’d read each and every word as they’d been read out loud by the attorney, and every letter had been burned into her brain now. There was no way to get them out from her mind, and they’d haunt her forever.        “The fact that you’re asking me what I think of it already means you’re considering this.” Surprisingly enough, her voice was steady even though she was on the verge of collapsing after everything. “So, I’ll make this really easy for you – do it. Because, from now on, you’re a single man and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”        Harry’s face paled immediately at her words, hand moving to grasp Y/N’s, but they were in a tight ball in her lap, not moving an inch at his touch.        “Y/N, please.” Olivia was the one reaching out now, a pained and terrified look on her face, but the girl just stood up from her chair and went to the coat rack taking her coat and the bag that was discarded by it.        “No, you asked what I thought.” Tears had started to form in her eyes while she shrugged on her jacket. “This is what I think. If you even for a second assumed I’d be alright with this shitty stunt, Harry, then through the last two years we've spent together, you’ve learned nothing about me, and to me, it means it’s not worth it.”        Harry was now standing, desperate to touch her face, but Y/N once again pulled away.         “You two,” Y/N said pointing between Olivia and Harry, their faces twins of fear and regret. “Have never needed publicity. Not like this, so don’t try and bullshit me that this will make great promo for the movie. There are so many other ways you could drum up interest, but this…” She let out an unamused chuckle. “How could you think I’d be okay with you pretending to be in a relationship with someone else?”        “No, please… just hear us out. You don’t know what it’s like.” Harry tried to plead, hands in his hair, but it was the wrong thing to say, as she took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief.          But Y/N was calm, and with how rigid Harry became he knew he’d fucked up more than before.        “I don’t understand?" she breathed. “The number of things and events I’ve said ‘no’ to… the…” Her voice was as still as the sea before a storm as she took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Harry wants Y/N there for the opening of his tour, so Y/N drops everything and flies out even though she misses a presentation that could have her up for a promotion. Harry doesn’t want to be seen walking inside a club with someone, so Y/N goes to the back entrance to save his face. Harry is tired and just wants to sleep, so Y/N passes on her friends’ birthdays because he wants cuddles. What Harry wants, Y/N does. And I did. I did all that happily while keeping our relationship private while snaking in and out through back doors like I was some dirty secret of yours just so you could keep the illusion you’re single…” Y/N shook her head. “I think I understand very well… But now… it’s my turn, my time to ask of you something.”        “Anything,” he pleaded, probably thinking that Y/N was going to ask him not to go with Jeff’s stunt, and he’d gladly tell them all to fuck off if it meant her staying. “I’ll do anything.”        “Let me go.”        If Harry’s heart hadn’t been in his chest you would’ve been able to hear it break as it smashed against the floor.        “Let me go,” she repeated. “And don’t come after me. Because I won’t take any part in this.”        “But –,” he was choking on his words. “But I don’t want to. I love you; I can’t just let you walk away like that. I won’t do it, none of this is worth it.”        “And I didn’t want to do a lot of things, especially sit in a meeting on Valentine’s day where my boyfriend was talking about faking a relationship to promote a fucking movie, but here we are.”        This time when he reached out to cup her cheek, Y/N let him. “Please. I swear I won’t do it, just please let’s talk about this. Don’t give up on me.”        But she was unwavering. “For the rest of our relationship, however long that might’ve been, I would’ve wondered if you hated me if you despised me for not agreeing to go with it if the movie didn’t do as well as your management predicts it will with this. And I won’t have that. I won’t be in a relationship where every second will be spent in doubt that I’m stifling your career and you could potentially resent me.”        “I could never hate you.”        “Yeah.” She let out a sob. “You actually claim to love me but would be willing to put me through that kind of fuckery, so something has to be a lie.”        Without looking at anyone else in the office, Y/N stepped away from the man who once made her feel like she could conquer the top of the world and opened the door, but didn’t even manage to take a step outside when the voice of the person she never wanted to hear from called after her, and although Y/N had been calm and collected, she snapped at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Jeff,” she snarled. “It’s not like I can talk about anything that happened here. You made sure of it. Smart move, by the way, I’d say you should continue it. NDAs right before any meeting… I guess that’s how you keep your clients' careers spotless, so your stunt won’t be exposed.”        The way she whipped around to move towards the door would’ve given her whiplash, if not for Harry standing in front of her, arms weaving around to keep her in place.        “I’m sorry." He was verging on hysterics. "Please just… please Y/N don’t…”        It seemed like he no longer even understood what he was pleading for. For Y/N to not break up? To not leave the room? LA? All he knew was that if he let her walk out of the door, he’d never see her again, and she’d make sure of it.        “No, Harry, I think I actually will, because the thought of being in the same city as you, is going to make me throw up right now,” Y/N said eyes not daring to meet his, because if she did, she'd break and her resolve would dissipate. “Besides, you have loads of things to talk about. By the time you get back, I’ll have my stuff out of the hotel. And Jeff?”        His manager looked sheepish as she glanced at Y/N.        “The least you owe me is a ticket back home. The first flight you can find.”        He didn’t answer, just nodded. She didn't deign to thank him.        “Happy fucking Valentines to you two.” She looked at Olivia and Harry, who was breaking apart at the seams, but no longer could she find it in herself to care. He didn’t care enough about her anyway. “Hope you have a very happy relationship.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: I’m (kinda?) back? I guess. I dunno. I’m in this weird place where I’m writing my books and then I get inspo for fics and I start writing them, but can’t seem to finish them so I dunno :D

P.S. what did ya think?

P.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms (Wattpad Ao3 etc without specific written permission)

P.S.S.S. my tags are always open :)

[squishneedsahero]

Possibilities and Problems

The Lost Padawan Part 2

Word Count: 1842

You were raised in the Jedi order, Padawan of Jedi Master Obiwan Kenobi.

It's as the three of you approach the farm that you finally put your lightsaber away. Theres other children, younger than you playing in the fenced area, and you doubt that they'd want to start a fight with them around. When you enter the gate the other people around give you curious looks, but don't seem to question the fact that you had come back with Hunter and Cut for the moment.

A little girl approaches you first, curiosity in her eyes as she asks, "who are you? I'm Omega."

Her friendliness catches you off guard but you answer softly, "y/n."

"It's nice to meet you y/n, we're playing catch," she says gesturing to the other two kids, "would you like to play with us?"

You furrow your brow as she asks this and hesitate a moment before saying, "not at the moment..." you pick at your fingers and look at the adults, before taking a breath and. saying, "I need to talk with them first then maybe."

"Okay, " she says but doesn't run off to play again, instead following you inside with Cut and Hunter.

Inside there are some other clones and a Twi'lek who you had seen through a window but instead of looking at you they just looked to Cut and Hunter for answers. "This is y/n l/n," Cut says, "we met her in town and said we'd help her out."

You wave timidly at them and look around, slowly recognizing the other clones.

"Hey, Omega how about you go play outside with Shaeeah and Jek," Cut suggests, as this was going to be a serious conversation and including Omega but not the other two would just make things a little difficult.

Omega looks to Hunter and he nods her out the door. Once she's out the door he turns to you, "now that we're somewhere safe would you like to explain yourself a bit more?"

His tone causes you a moments pause before you nod, "yeah, I can do that..." you pause as you look at the others in the room before going on to introduce yourself, "I'm y/n l/n, I was the padawan of Master Obiwan Kenobi," as you say this you take out your lightsaber to show them as if they wouldn't believe you otherwise. "I survived the siege on the Jedi temple and all the other clones turning against the Jedi, and I was able to escape to a shuttle off world and made it here." Stoic is the only way to describe the way you're speaking of these events, clearly letting all the training from the Jedi come forward to hide your emotions. You had been taught not to have emotion, and for you that just meant you didn't show any emotions, in truth every part of your body was aching with the pain of loosing everyone you knew.

"I thought the Jedi were the enemy?" Wrecker speaks up.

"No," Tech cuts in, "all we know is that us clones hive chips that caused us to easily turn against the Jedi, we don't know what the Jedi did to deserve being killed-"

You interject, trying to not sound too harsh, "the Jedi didn't do anything. I was at master Kenobi's side for many a meeting throughout the war, Senator Palpatine accuses us of committing war crimes but master Kenobi and the others on the council wanted nothing more than to end the war and keep the galaxy free."

"So you're saying this was all a ploy to execute the Jedi?" Cut asks, able to tell how much emotion you were holding back.

"Yeah, I think that is exactly what I am saying," you take a shaky breath, remembering all of the stuff the masters had taught you and your many grievances with the rules and standards. You decide to be completely honest, at least about everything that wasn't the fact you had only survived from being a dumbass who stole some clone armor. "Look, the Jedi were far from perfect but I know that the only reason they got involved in this conflict was because they wanted to keep people safe. We fought alongside the clones for years, we fought for the Republic, and in a matter of minutes the clones turned against us without question."

You take a breath since you're getting worked up, and Hunter takes the chance to interrupt, "look kid, we know something is off about all of this, we were with Master Billaba when it happened and saw how easily it happened. The only reason we didn't is because we're defective and we're trying to figure out why."

It's his honesty with this that allows you to relax, sensing absolutely no ill will towards you from anyone in the room. It's as you relax that you notice Echo, you hadn't been around him a lot before he had been captured, because he was in the 501st not the 212. "Echo?" you ask gently.

"Yes, that's me, it's good to see you y/n."

You give a gentle smile, "I'm glad that you're alright." From there you take another breath before looking around a bit, "I should get going, I don't want anyone coming after you all on my account."

Suu speaks up at that point, "y/n, my dear, they would already be coming after us if they knew we were here. Technically they are all deserters, and would be executed if found by the empire. You don't have to leave, we are figuring out how to get off world and are welcome to stay and take a break here, I'm sure you're exhausted after being on the run for nearly eight rotations."

You look at the Twi'lek and can feel yourself relax a bit more, realizing how tired you in fact were, "that- are you sure?" you catch yourself before answering.

"Of course I'm sure, my children are outside and I wouldn't put them in danger."

You look at her for another moment, your stomach answering for you by growling, "if you're sure, then that sounds nice."

"I'm sure. Let's get you something to eat," she says and takes your hand to have you find some food.

While you get some food Omega comes back inside, "you're done now?"

Shaeeah and Jek aren't far behind Omega and this leads to Cut stating, "you three were listening at the door weren't you?"

"Yeah," Omega says, sounding almost proud of herself before she looks at you where you were sitting and eating at the table, "so you're really a Jedi? How did you survive the clones attacking because of their programming?"

You finish chewing the bite of your food before saying, "I'm just a padawan, I survived because I was lucky." The only way anyone would learn how you survived is never, you'd take that secret to the grave.

Your vague answer sets Omega off on asking an endless string of questions to you, followed by  Shaeeah and Jek listening to the conversation. This gives the adults a chance to move away and quietly discuss the situation with you. Sure sending Omega with Cut and his family would work to keep her out of harms way, but you on the other hand presented an entirely new problem. Cut couldn't easily take a Jedi with him and his family, there is hardly a chance that you'd even want that let alone able to handle a quiet family life after everything that you'd been through in your short life. All of this required more thought and lots of discussion as to how they would solve yet another problem on their long and quickly growing list of problems.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 11*

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

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Alright this one is kinda short but I needed a cliffhanger, and I need to get to fifteen now. Also, I had to write the ending of this in the car and it's difficult so I ended it where I did. Plus I love watching y'all squirm. SUFFER.

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

Rafael hadn’t texted you back since you told him you didn’t care whether he believed you or not, maybe he had gotten the hint and decided to leave you alone. Why didn’t that make you feel any better? You knew what you had told Sonny was true; you couldn’t be in any kind of relationship with anyone but alcohol. 

You’d never admit it to Sonny since he was so proud of you lately, but the monster inside you may be present more than you let on. It wasn’t big things that set you off sometimes, sometimes it was just one bad grade on a test, or being lonely. 

You knew you needed to reach out to someone, anyone other than Sonny. Get some friends of your own, people you could talk to. But you were too ashamed of your problems and your life to ever approach anyone. Even when students in your class would ask you to go out with them after school, you’d always decline in fear of what you might do while you were out. You could keep yourself from having more than one drink on your own, but the social pressure of being around other people drinking made you just want to keep going. And you knew where that led. Where it always led. 

You had kept the monster at bay for so long, it was exhausting most days. And now that you had fed it and let it loose, you were too tired to even try and reign it back in. So here you were, practically unable to move from being so sick from drinking fucking mouthwash rather than ride out your cravings. 

You looked up at the sky and began to pray for God to just take you right there and then, just so you would have to stop feeling like this. Not just physically ill, but completely devastated and heartbroken that the one time you had ever opened yourself to someone, opened yourself to love, the monster inside you killed it. Just like it killed everything. Now you just wanted it to kill you. You were just about to grab some pure rubbing alcohol from under your bathroom sink to drink, you knew it was lethal if you drank about a capful. You had it up to your lips when you heard a banging on your front door.

“Y/N! Y/N open this door!” 

Were you still that fucked up or was that actually Rafael banging on your door? No, it couldn’t be. Could it? You decided it was worth at least checking, if you had hallucinated it you could always come back to the bathroom. You forced yourself to stand up and hobbled towards your front door, still afraid to open it. If it really was him, you didn’t want him to see you like this. Your t-shirt was covered in bright green vomit stains, your hair was messy from puking, your hadn’t checked but you figured your face was probably disgusting. 

“...I’m not home!” The words came out before your sense kicked in to tell you that was literally the most idiotic thing you could say. Clearly he’d know you were fucked up now.

“I’m not kidding! I’ll break down this door, I swear to God,” His voice was angrier than you’d ever heard him. Well, that wasn’t saying much considering you hadn’t known him that long but still. 

“Uh...okay, just a second!” You called nervously, doing your best to quickly change your shirt and fix your hair. 

You grabbed a semi clean t-shirt laying on your couch and threw your hair up in a messy ponytail, wiping the dried vomit and drool from your face. You glanced in the mirror, you looked messy but just messy enough you were pretty sure you could pull off “I’m emotionally destroyed because of you” not “I’m totally trashed and fucked in the head because of you,” You tried walking as straight as you could to the door and softly opened it a bit, not letting him inside.

“Hey…” You gave him a sheepish smile. Wait, weren’t you supposed to be mad at him? Don’t act nice now just because you’re trying to act sober. 

“I mean...that’s a pretty lively looking corpse there, counselor,” You smirked. 

“...What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you the one who said you’d never be caught dead in Jersey?” You smirked harder. Damn, even when you were on the verge of dying you were smooth.

“Let me in,” Rafael said flatly. 

“Uh, no,” You said mockingly. 

“Let me in,” He repeated more sternly. 

“Do you have a warrant?” You asked with an amused smile. 

“Dammit Y/N don’t make me shove this door open,” 

“Oh okay so now you’re threatening to break into my apartment? Why don’t you yell that a little louder, maybe my neighbor will call the cops,” You yelled at him while gesturing down the hall. 

“...Please let me in?” His voice lowered, his eyes softened. You were a sucker for those eyes, no matter how mad or worried about appearances you were.

“...Fine,” You sighed and released your hold on the door and walked away quickly to sit on the couch. You didn’t want him to realize you couldn’t stand without holding onto something. 

“Fuck, I knew it…” He muttered as he glanced around your apartment, then focused on you.

“Knew what?” You crossed your arms, playing it cool. 

“You’re drunk right now, aren’t you?” He looked at you pitifully, not livid like he was a minute ago. 

“What?” You kept your composure. “Uh, I’m sorry Rafael, do you see any empty bottles here? Any FULL bottles for that matter?” You gestured around your apartment while acting offended he would even think that.

“My dad was an alcoholic, Y/N,” He said softly which made you angrier, why was he doing this? 

“Um okay, so that has to do with me why--?”

“Tell me right now if I smelled your breath that it wouldn’t be overwhelmingly ‘clean’,” He talked over you.

“....What?” You blinked, trying desperately to act oblivious. 

Fuck, why did he know that was a thing? Well, obviously he just said it. If you weren’t so angry or out of your mind right now, you’d feel absolutely terrible for being like this around him now that you knew he’d been through this before.

“So it’s a crime to have dental hygiene now?” You smarmed.

“Dammit Y/N I know what you’re doing!” Now he was getting angry again, he couldn’t stand that you weren’t taking this seriously. He couldn’t stand watching another person he cared about completely shit faced in front of him, acting as if he was the one in the wrong. 

“And what am I doing, Rafael?”

“Sonny might be naïve, but I know what it looks like when an alcoholic is hiding their drinking!” He accused you.

“God dammit…” you muttered. 

So many things were buzzing in your head at that moment. One you now felt ashamed that he was seeing you like this, two you were upset that he knew all your tricks, and finally you were somewhat happy and hopeful that he cared enough to come for you. 

“Did you have an actual reason for coming over here, or did Sonny just send you to lecture me because he’s tired of doing it?”

“...Can you drink some coffee or something?” 

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why?” 

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” 

“What? Oh suddenly I must be out of my mind trashed because I’m mad at you? Guess what Barba, this is 100% snarky sober me,” You lied. 

“Mad at me?” He laughed. “Why in God’s name are you mad at me?!” 

“After the way you treated me--”

“The way I treated you?!” He cut you off angrily. “I treated you with nothing but caring and respect, Y/N. Even after you sat there in my apartment throwing a temper tantrum like a petulant drunken toddler!” 

“You--” You were livid at him calling you a toddler.

“Just because Sonny told you what I usually act like towards-- lovers, doesn’t make it true with you. Did I ever, ever act like you were some ‘conquest’?” He asked you.

“...No,” You bit your lip nervously.

“Did I ever make you feel cheap, or unwanted?”

“No…” You looked at the floor.

“Didn’t I tell you that you were different, that you meant something to me?”  He gave you a sad look, as if he was crushed that you didn't believe in him.

“But how do I know that wasn’t just a line?!” You protested.

“Because I’m here!” He gestured around your apartment. 

“And why are you here?” You pressed him.

“I don’t know!” He put his hands over his head.

“...That’s not an answer,”  You crossed your arms.

“It’s the only answer I can give you, Y/N,” He finally sat down next to you on the couch. 

You curled up your knees to your chest instinctively, still trying to hide your inebriation and the smell of your breath; even though you knew it was futile at this point.

“So, you come all the way here to bang on my door and yell at me, but you have no idea why?” You continued to be defensive, trying to keep him off your scent.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? Huh?” He threw up his hands. 

“Do you want me to say it’s because I’m in love with you? Because for the first time in my life I found someone that I want to be with all the time, because you make me the happiest I’ve been in a long time, maybe ever?” 

“Uh no,” You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t ask you to lie,” 

“...I’m not lying,”  He looked at you very seriously, trying to take your hand.

“Yes, you are,” You shook your head and pulled away from him. “In fact I know exactly why you’re here,”

“....What is happening right now?” Rafael asked himself softly. He had just sat there and poured out his heart to you, and you were dismissing him completely. This is exactly why he should have just let you be.

“What’s happening, is that you-- you feel bad that you couldn’t... I don’t know, ‘deal’ with your Daddy issues," You air quoted Daddy, making him shift uncomfortably.

"That is so--" He tried denying it.

"True?" You gave him a look. "Let me guess, you couldn't 'save' him as a kid, right?"

"...That wasn't on me," He muttered, looking at the floor.

"You don't believe that," you scoffed. "I know you don't."

"And how do you know that?" He looked at you skeptically.

"Because I feel like I failed my parents, and they were the shittiest people on earth!" You exclaimed.

"How did you fail them? You weren't even--"

"By being born, Raff," You clarified.

"Carino, don't--"

"Look, my point is you've got this 'white knight syndrome', but you know what I learned? You can't save everyone, so you shouldn't even try,"

"That's a great philosophy," he scoffed. "So you don't even try?'

"Oh fuck off," You rolled your eyes. "I can't even save myself, let alone anyone else,"

"That's not true," he protested. "You saved me,"

"Oh my god," you made a fake gagging noise. "You're just saying that so it'll appease some kind of guilt,"

"I have zero to feel guilty about," he shook his head. For some reason that made you even angrier. 

"Alright well good! So you can leave,"  You pointed towards the door.

"No I'm not leaving, not until you acknowledge what I said," He crossed his arms.

"What? About you being in love with me?" You scoffed. "I told you that's a load of shit."

"And why do you say that?" He asked.

"For one, because you don't fall in love with someone just because they're good in bed," you gave him a look.

"That's not why--"

"And for two, nobody can be in love with a monster," You finished over him.

"You're not a monster--" he tried pulling you towards him but you stood up.

"Yes I am!" You screamed.

Well that was a bad idea. All of a sudden it was as if the chemicals from the mouthwash were sizzling around your insides. You doubled over in pain, the room was going dark. 

"Y/N? Oh my god, baby hold on--" he grabbed you and pulled you into his lap while he dialed 911.

"It's okay, you're okay...just...just hold on, please…" he pleaded with you while stoking your hair and kissing the top of your head, gripping you as if you were going to disappear if he let up.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

[decayandfanfics]

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head,  every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his  silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a  fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He  thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the  very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset.  He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment  many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut, dirty talking.

A/N:  This chapter is shameless smut, you are warned. Minors do not interact. go and read a book or something.

Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.As always, let me know what you think!

________________________________________________

Chapter 14 / Chapter 15

Lovers ever run before the clock.

Overhaul really is just an uptight pretentious asshole, but Tomura lets his insulting remarks slide, trying his utter best not to snap.

He was supposed to be in a good mood today, but by the time Chronostasis puts the gun against his white locks, he swears that he will do anything in his power to completely ruin Shie Hassakai for this mess, already struggling to keep his temper at bay.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.”

He’s never one to get distracted but it is difficult to stay focus when he cannot erase the feeling of her thighs caging his hips, her words rumbling inside his brain like a prayer for him to come back and take what’s already his.

It enrages him far more than he would like to admit, but he can’t go back if he gets killed, can’t he?

Luckily for them, Tomura kinda lacks that self-preservation impulse at the face of danger, so he stays there completely stoic and delightfully petty between Chisaki and the gun. The thought of her crying because he got his pretty brains scattered all over the Shie Hassakai immaculate floor makes him realize that he has yet another reason to hate Overhaul.

Really, what’s the matter with these people? they just keep adding points to their list, but sure, he will work with what he has (as always) by sending Toga and Twice into their ranks to gain some reliability after Chisaki told him about this ridiculous plan of curing society of quirks like it’s an illness.

And he thought que was an extremist.

It’s a dumb concept, really. People decide to be assholes, to be heroes, villains and such. There is a choice in excluding those like him from society meanwhile hero violence is idolized. But quirks? People don’t get to choose. Shit just happens. You can develop a cute little nice quirk that allows you to make bubbles or something ridiculous like, dunno, destroying everything you touch; but people can help it, it’s just the way it is. Nobody asks for it. Not even Overhaul, not even him.

And, even when Tomura can understand what Overhaul is saying about society being unfair based on quirks, his plan still sounds pretty nonsensical to him, who wants to destroy everything with his own hands, after all is that why he was born with such deadly weapon at the reach of his fingers. It would be nothing short but hypocritical and, despite the irony, he likes to think of himself as an honest person. His goal clashes directly with Overhaul’s, so no, he will keep the league interests to himself and for now will trust Toga and Twice to do what they do best without rising any suspicion about what he’s up to. Chisaki is more stupid tan he looks if he thinks Tomura will make blind eye to the audacity of his challenge and his continuous lack of propriety.

Oh, poor Overhaul. He doesn’t know it yet, but he already lost.

In the meantime, he’ll keep himself busy on more important and exciting matters. Hating Overhaul is something he can use as a motivation for more than just inner monologue, because you see, Tomura has a revenge to plan and a truck to steal.

_____________

 Things are different next time he sees you. Something primal and strange born from a sick sense of belonging that fills your interactions after the night you slept together, soothing his temper and bitterness into something warmer and far more intense that pulls and twist and burns to be close to each other.

It's been four days since they left the apartment to prepare the backhand against Overhaul and Tomura is sure that by that hour tomorrow Overhaul will have failed, leaving him as the great winner of his sensei’s title. (Not that he ever needed to prove it, but if Overhaul wanted to pick a fight, he would not be the one to deny his wishes.)

Tonight, however, has nothing to do with all that, not when he’s finally back.

You’ve been waiting for his return by the window, searching for his frame in every shadow, a mug of chocolate warming your hands as the soup simmered over the stove. A warm meal made for him every night in case he decided to return, guessing he would be hungry and cold, wondering if it isn’t too much (but you care for him, so you do it anyway).

A supposition that turned out to be true, but Tomura had another solution in mind.

He’s a starving dog all hunger and demand, a wild vicious thing that looks at you feral and maddened, dripping with want and something far scarier that you don’t dare to name (but you do know, don’t you?).

You are no better than him, not when your fingers had traced patterns with his name across your body, spelling dreams and fantasies from your lips, remembering the way his fingers filled you and you wonder if he touched himself thinking about you too. The answer comes rather messy the moment his jagged mouth whimpers how much he missed you between whispers and moans that to you sound like poetry.

And he takes and takes and takes with deaf hands and sharp teeth, leaving bruises with the shape of his fingertips burned all over you as he bites and scratch and pull-out whimpers and pants from your mouth that echoes the frantic tune of his heart slamming against his ribs because he missed you so much it was painful.  

So, he had kissed you feverish, stomping you against the wall desperate and needing for your attention until you had pull him by the neck of his shirt to drag him into the bedroom, his brain completely forgetting about Overhaul’s existence the moment you push him to the edge of the mattress to sit in his lap, pulling the hem of his shirt for him to take it off, too focused in the heat prints your hands leave on his pale shoulders as something roars inside of his chest urging him to imprint his existence on your skin and possess the being that lives inside your bones.

Tomura paints a plethora of purple kisses over your neck and chest as a mark of his touch and your belonging. Something dark and twisted reverbing inside his ribs, inside his brain.

Mine; his mind repeats over and over again until he’s dizzied from the words, drunk in touch as your hands slither all over his sides, his chest and shoulders. His eyes marveling in the way skin holds together every angle of your flesh and the parts where your bones show from inside of your figure when he finally takes off your dress.

So soft, so beautiful and all his.

His kisses become raw and sharp and painful like the electric bond that ties you together by the ribs, all roughness and need, bruising lips and sinking teeth. Your moans and pants mixing now and then with some pained yelps and hisses of his name to call out on his harshness, but he chooses to make deaf ears to your pleas, too busy trying to gorge on your taste.

His teeth sink on your skin leaving marks like crescent moons that he kisses after you cry, pleasure and need pooling between your thighs, a tightness that burn inside your belly as you tangle your fingers in his hair, thinking briefly between the fog of your thoughts that it has grown, that it looks painfully beautiful on him like a crown of silver and moonlight.

Soon enough your legs lock around his bony hips, the choir of soft mewls and pants has become something far more animal; cries filling the room with each touch. White underwear remaining as the last barrier to your skin, leaving a wet stain over the fabric of his jeans.  

The room turns unbearable warm as your kisses become more slopy and open, letting him take your mouth just how he likes it as he registers the way the skin of your torso presses against his bare chest, your warmth spreading over, suffocating him.

Hooking a finger on your bra cup, Tomura pulls down and reveals the flesh hidden under the layers of lace, deciding already that this is his favorite image of you. Covered in love marks, wet and underwear ruined, your bra tucked under the curb of your breast. Something obscene and desperate about it, more crude than mere nakedness and it’s exactly how he likes it.

It looks lewd, it looks nasty. It looks like everything he wants to make of you, so he tightens his hold on your waist, making your back curve a little up to latch his mouth to your breast, sucking hard enough to draw a loud moan from your lips as you dig your nails on the muscle of his arms, delight shooting through your spine.

“Ow…fuck…” you pant with each pull of his mouth, and he chuckles darkly against your chest, amused and smug because he has you and he knows it, a sinister part of him (the vengeful scary one that wants to kill and maim and destroy) screaming that you belong to him from now on, that you’ll never leave, that he’ll never let you.

Mine, and mine alone he thinks and the thought sounds jarring and loud inside his head as he leaves bruises all over the skin that surround the buds of your chest, making you gasp over his lap.

“What? Wanna say something?” Tomura teases watching your expression, your eyes going wide the moment he slides your panties to the side and press his fingers inside you without warning.

“T-oh…Tomura…fuck…ow” you try to articulate but the words come out as blurred whispers.

“No bickering now?”

“Oh god…Tomura…please” you cry trembling, mouth watering with every touch of his palm over your nerve.

“Please what.”

You hide your face on the crook of his neck to bite him hard enough to make him bark an excited laugh, rejoicing in the fact that you are marking him too, before hooking his fingers inside you to make you moan loudly; hips moving automatically as one of your hands reach the hem of his pants and unbuttons his jeans to touch him back.

“I want you inside.”

He lets out a pretty hiss the moment your fist close around his length, caressing him tentatively until finding a pace, giving you a little victory over his rough teasing.

“I wanna tear you apart” he growls reaching deep inside of you, a wolf like grin slicing across his face baring his sharp teeth “you are a mess. All wet and begging for me to fuck you.”

“Tomura…”

“Fuck…you are so wet, all for me…my good girl, my good girl.” The words pour out of his mouth in feverish tone as his other hand clear the hair off your face before catching your lips on his again.

“Tomura, please…”

He snaps, turning you onto the mattress to climb over your body, throwing his jeans to the floor before leaning between your thighs as his hardness brushes over your clothed center. His patience has run thin though, so he yanks the panties by one side, closing all five fingers over the piece of fabric that flews to the floor before transforming into dust.

He lines up with your center, feeling the intimate touch before thrusting deep into you, ripping out a high moan that makes your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving scratching marks all over his pale skin in an attempt to steady yourself as your walls burn with the stretching.

No, he isn’t gentle this time, he just can’t bring himself to be soft when he feels like the awful infatuation he’s been harboring inside is about to tear his ribs open, pouring out for everyone to see the bloody mess you’ve made of his heart. So, he thrust hard like punishing you for it, snaping his hips fast and deep into you, trying to leave a bruise mark inside as well as one of his hands tangles between your hair, pulling and making you scream to the rhythm of your creaking bed.

He bottoms out the moment his arm hooks under your knee, as you tangle your other leg over his waist, giving him deepest access into you, his tip planting kisses against your cervix, rough friction and raw closeness sending you over the edge because he’s fucking you hard, making sure your screaming can be heard from the hall of the building.

It's brutal, yet you give him everything he wants and more because you like it like this, you like it because is him. The warmth of his body covering yours and you wonder if he can feel it too.

The terrific need of holding onto his body, his wicked smile, his bruised heart. The horror of your attachment to a person like him and what this represents, at the brim of ruining your life for love…

Love.

You are so in love with him.

“Look at me” he demands pulling your hair, a feral snarl across his sharp face darkening his features before kissing you hard, his tongue filling your mouth in lewd motion. “Fuck, you are so tight…I wanna split you in half.” His voice is a coarse and maddened sound against your lips, so close and intimate it’s scary because he’s sinking so deep it feels like he’s trying to rearrange your insides and his words do nothing but intensify the heat.

“Fuck…Tomura…it hurst…you’re so rough…so rough” You manage to blurt out, eyes boring into his.

“And you love it, don’t you?” he snarls tightening the grip on your hair. “You like how it feels…like I’m gonna split your pretty cunt in two. Huh? Say it, say it…”

“Fuck…yes…yes”

“Yes what.” He barks in a particularly harsh thrust that makes you scream like a wildling.

“I love it…fuck…like that…I love it…I love it.”

“You are mine…you hear me?” he prays over your mouth half ordering, half begging for you to go down with it and say that yes, that you’ll never leave him, that you’ll stay with him “All mine to fuck, mine, mine, mine, MINE!” he growls with every thrust as the bed slams hard against the wall until you are a babbling incoherent mess.

His brutal pace and words get you quiet soon, too much to even make a sound and hardly even allowing you to breathe, too concentrated in the feeling of his length and him smashing into your ending wall as the overwhelming touch of his hips and his abdomen on yours burns your skin.

The brush of his hair and ragged breathing fanning over your cheek is the only compass of time while the tightness in your belly threatens to snap the moment your teary eyes meet his, mouth on mouth without even kiss, but you smile to him, your warm hand caressing softly the skin of his jaw as he tears into you, feeling incapable of telling him what the voice of your mind has been playing over and over again.

I’m in love with you.

Like sensing your thoughts, his hands abandon your hair. Four trembling fingers cuddling your cheek, carefully and almost scared before closing his eyes, letting his forehead rest on yours as he whispers sweet words of praise only for you to keep, still forcing himself in and out of you. His mouth watering to the sight of your bouncing breast still trapped by your bra.

“ow…I’m gonna..Tomura…I’m gonna…”

The snap of his hips become erratic when finally you come undone on him, eyes rolling back and a cry that tears your throat open when your walls clench around his hardness making him moan as he keeps thrusting in and out, reaching his own end soon after; his hand closing tightly into a fist over the mattress as he grunts with his face hidden on the crook of your neck, filling you warm and slick until he goes soft inside of you.

Tomura pulls out and rests his head on your chest, his heart hammering against your belly, still trying to catch his breath; his fingers tracing mindless patterns over the shape of your waist, as your hands slide between the tangled locks of silver, lips laying little pecks over his crown.

Time slows down, minutes passing and quiet settles, he notices.

Quiet inside of him.

This is all he wanted from the moment he crossed the umbral of your door months ago. The insufferable itch silenced by the calming thump of your heart, fluttering softly behind the gate of your ribs and he wonders if maybe you’d have a room by your core where he could lay his bones to finally rest for a minute from all the rage and hate that burdens him.

Maybe you do have one, hidden and unspoken, a mirror of the one you occupy in the graveyard of his chest where he holds you beautiful and bright and…everything he doesn’t get to hate.

Yeah, he thinks you do. After all, he’s lying in your arms, isn’t it? You had caressed his face and marked his neck and back, all teeth and nails, to then crown him with a wreath of kisses, your body soft and still under his weight, while your hands brush carefully through his scalp.

He knows the feeling, he’s not stupid…but he doesn’t get to speak its name yet.

Is not that bad, after all. Being attached to you and the lullaby of your heartbeat could make him better, smarter, stronger. You could be another reason to fight and destroy. After all, in a society as rotten as this one, you’ll never be allowed to walk by his side if not by putting a bounty on your head too.

What the media would say about you? Would they catalog you as an S class villain? since your quirk is as deadly as it gets, you would be feared and hated. You can practically kill by just looking at someone and he’s not even sure if you really need to look to your target, after all.

And yet you are the kindest person he knows. If someone of the hero commission knew about this, you’d be hunted down despite your service as a doctor, despite your resolution to help whoever needs it, despite caring for those rotten and downthrown. And since you are critical of the system, you’d be reduced to just another animal to put down. Just like him.

Tomura swears he’ll decay every single person on the world before let that happen.

“Tomura…”

He rises his head to look at you, a question drawn across his face.

“Can you…move a little? My bra is killing me.”

“Ow…sorry about that.” He apologizes, curious eyes over the mark that the elastic has left over your skin as he sits by your side.

“Can you help me? I can’t reach the clip…”

“Sure…”  

You bend over to give him better access to your back, feeling his fingers brush over your skin carefully, before liberating you from the elastic straps incrusted on your flesh.

Tomura leans forward, placing soft kisses between your shoulder blades, letting his forehead rest over your spine and the touch is so sweet that it makes you wonder if maybe he does feel the same as you.

You get your answer when his hand moves forward to cup your breast, middle finger carefully up, as the other slides down between your thighs, making you sigh, feeling his hardness brushing your hip.

He nuzzles against your cheek, until you turn to kiss him deeply, warmth pooling between your legs again as his fingers play lazy between your slick entrance and the bundle of nerves. This time though, you take your chance and turn over, sitting on top before taking his wrist to lay kisses over the soft skin of his pulse.

Your quirk flares alive and before Tomura gets to catch on your intentions, his hands stand secured high against the headboard.

“What the…ow fuck!” He moans the moment your hand close over his length, pumping until he’s losing his breath, a ragged laugh scaping his jagged lips “fuck…you are an evil woman.”

“I should be proud if you say so.”

You accommodate over him, lowering until he fills you, pushing his previous release deeper into you.

Your pacing is torturingly slow and intense, soft moans and sweet whispers between languid kissed. Tomura watches hypnotized how your hips ride over the place you two connect, his crimson eyes half lidded as he lets you take him, before finally releasing your hold.

He touches you carefully this time, palming over the curve of your hipbone and your belly, index finger up as he wonders how deep is he, trying to feel himself from the outside, before pushing down to sink deeper into you, hitting the fragile spot where he makes you cry.

“I like you like this…” he speaks softly, looking you up from behind his eyelashes as you ride him slowly.

“How” your word is a whisper against his lips.

“Bare…” he rasps, his voice luring you into his embrace, spilling sweet nothing into his ear as he mumbles over and over again.

“My good girl…you are so good for me…”

This time you reach your peak softly. A sweet thing that fills you gently; walls fluttering around his oversensitive length while you keep rocking him until he stuffs you again, finally both falling back into the mattress side to side, already drifting into sleep, both tired and content.

A light touch catches your attention before falling unconscious. Tomura´s pinky hooks on yours as a silent plea, so you spill a peck over his shoulder before resting your temple on it, a sweet gesture that makes his heart tremble with fear and excitement for all the right reasons.

So, he does what he wants, sliding his arm under your neck and moving your head to rest on his chest. Over his heart he lays a fist for you to grip gently by the wrist before finally crowning you with soft kisses as the steady beat of his heart lulls you to dream.

Chapter 16 (soon)

[jjfics]

Room 19 ll 02

ship: Harry Potter x female!Reader

read part one here

summary: they finally meet the mysterious wizards after getting to know each other better that same morning

author: your bestie Jane Jack, also known as JJ

word count: 1760 (it is a bit shorter this time)

a/n: i am so so so happy some of you liked the first part so i will continue with this story. i wasnt on call this time so no news from my bff, sorry, ill ask them for a cool quote for next time though!

“Thank you, darling. We’ll take the seats in the corner. Could you bring us two coffees and,” Potter turned to look at you and raised his eyebrows “one croissant?” You nodded shyly.

“That would be 13£, but I’ll only charge you 10, the croissant is on me,” the woman taking your order smiled. “Since you have such a pretty girlfriend” she winked.

Your cheeks flushed red as Potter pulled your waist impossibly closer to him. “I know, right?” he chuckles.

The walk to the cafe was silent, but it felt different than the trip you two had the other day. There was no need to talk. In fact, you felt as though the moment you would open your mouth you would say something stupid about what happened last night, like apologizing for taking up so much space or doing something so unprofessional. But you did not want to apologize, because you had never felt less sorry for something. There was this weird energy between the two of you. You craved the feeling of being close to him again.

The table Potter chose was very strategic. The predictable head of the group of wizards and witches who called themselves the Forsakens would choose the grandiose table in the middle of the cafe. So the corner was a shadowed place where you would not have been recognized while you could very easily observe the others.

Still, benefits are tied to come with cons and so you were forced to cuddle into each other once again on a small leather couch. His hand did not leave your waist even as you sat down. It was hard not to notice such details, like how he could not keep eye contact for long when you spoke, how your hands brushed together when you both leaned over the table to take a sip of your hot coffee. You blamed it all on the weird situation you were in. In any other circumstances, he would not have been behaving like this, for sure.

“Hey, Potter. Could I ask you something?”

“You know you don’t have to call me Potter, right?” he smiled.

“We are work colleagues,” you said, but you wished you didn’t. Because you knew very well that saying things out loud only makes them more real.

“Yeah, but I don’t call you y/ln. I never heard you say you don’t like it when I call you y/n.” You did like it, it made you feel welcomed whenever talking to him, which until this morning was very rare. But you were not going to tell him that and feed his ego even more.

“It’s acceptable, but mind you, you are on thin ice,” you pointed a finger at him and his hand shifted softly on your waist as he laughed.

“It would be acceptable for you to call me Harry too, you know? I mean, we are supposed to be dating after all. For the mission.”

“For the mission” you agreed

“So you will call me Harry?”

“I will,” you promised. The gesture of reassurance alone made his head float.

While waiting for the Forsakens to appear you found out a lot about Harry. Many things surprised you. The papers always lie to make everything more attractive to their readers, but they also leave out the small details. Like how Harry still has panic attacks, even long after the war. How he always has nightmares about all the people he cared about.

“I feel sorry knowing this now,” you tried to empathize but it wasn’t going that well. You had never been part of war before.

“You don’t have to be. Not today, at least. I had quite a pleasant dream last night.”

“Oh, did you? And what was it about then?”

"Someone hugged me. I think it was a woman; I’m not sure. I didn’t get to see her face.”

“Is that all you remember?” you persisted. It broke your heart to know that this was his idea of a good dream: nothing extraordinary, but the most mundane form of comfort.

“Yeah, that’s all. What I know is that she was there in the beginning. It felt like she always had been” his eyes were distant as he talked. “She left me, and I was once again alone.”

And it was then that it all made sense to you. He was nice to you now because there were no nightmares to haunt him through the day.

You turned to face him and got really close to his face. “I’m so sorry. For being so shitty with you the other day,” you whispered. “It was just the stress from work.”

“I know.” he smiled. “It’s alright. I let myself get carried away too. We need to cooperate for the mission.”

“So does that mean that our little argument and Ben Nelson stepping in will not be included in the letter to the Minister for Magic?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Oh I totally am not telling Hermione any of that.” he laughed. “No, that will stay between us.”

It was around 11 am that you spotted some oddly dressed people enter the already busy cafe. In the lead was a tall woman who wore black heels and a long red satin dress with robes of a darker shade draped over her shoulders. Her face was covered by a long curtain of dark curly hair.

Just behind her were two other women, both slightly shorter. Those were dressed in the same way the first one was; the colors were the only thing that varied: their fair skin was adored by greens and purples.

The two men following them were both dressed in black suits that would not make them attract much attention if it weren’t for their companions.

The dark-skinned woman who was so obviously the one making decisions pointed to the big table in the middle of the cafe and her followers seated themselves. No words were spoken as she left them and entered a door the waitress once had.

“These must be them. They fit the description perfectly,” you mumbled and Harry nodded beside you.

“The head’s name is Anika. She has connections to the waitress as her mom’s sister. Anika is muggle-born. She never told her aunt that she’s a witch but she and her gang are allowed to gather here sometimes.” Harry said in a monotone voice. What a good professor he would have been.

“I read the instructions, Harry” you rolled your eyes at him. He smiled when he heard his name come from your lips.

“‘M just making sure, y/n.”

Anika returned quite quickly and she sat down on the side with the men, facing the other women. She took out a leather notebook from her robes and put it in the middle of the table.

“Does anyone know why it’s still here?” you could faintly hear her cold voice. Everyone else around her shook their heads.

“Heajin and I did our part.” the woman dressed in purple said defensively.

“So did Aaron and I,” one of the men on Anika’s right said more calmly, almost like he was trying to prove a point.

“I don’t care about what any of you did,” she looked them one by one in the eye. “I don’t want to hear you brag about how hard the task was for you, Aaron and Heajin. You two have always found everything challenging. I would normally be more forgiving, congratulate you even. But I can’t as long as this piece of absolute rubbish hasn’t dissolved.” Anika pointed to the notebook. “Understood?” she hit the table with her palm. The others did not flinch.

All of them nodded angrily, got up, and left the cafe in a rush. But it seemed as though their boss was not done talking yet. She scoffed, annoyed at the others’ behaviors, and vanished through the door after them.

Whatever you were expecting to happen today, was not this. The short discussion you had just overheard from your corner only brought more confusion. You had expected them to be a group of foolish wizards who want to rebel. But you had never expected them to be talking about real tasks. Rethinking everything now, you came to the conclusion that the situation was serious if Hermione Granger-Weasley sent her best two Aurors (and those had been her words) on a mission personally. She considered Ron one of the best too of course, but she would never risk his life if she could help.

It would make no sense for you to follow them. They would be back here the next day. Harry took out his wallet and put 15 pounds next to his cup on the table. He intertwined your fingers with his and got up as well. “Let’s go, love,” he said loudly enough, announcing that you were leaving now too.

Harry didn’t bother to look back at the cafe but you turned your head last second to see if anyone had a weird reaction to what had just happened. And you saw it sitting there. The small leather notebook was left in the middle of the table. No one seemed to take notice of the piece of rubbish being left behind. You squeezed Harry’s hand and he stopped just as he wanted to open the door and leave. You dragged him over to the table to make it less obvious.

“Look, babe, I told you there was a stain on the tablecloth on this one,” you said sweeping your hand over it and clenched your hand around the notebook. “It’s better that we sat over there.” Harry squeezed the hand that was still in his. He got your message.

You were panting hard as you threw the hotel door open. It was quite the work-out you got from running back here. Harry was behind you, locking it right back shut. You ran to the window and pushed it hard. Your whistle could be heard for miles probably. There was no time left to worry over your owl’s whereabouts as she was there in less than a minute.

She landed on your shoulder and bit your ear softly. “Good girl, Idiv.” you petted her grey head.

“y/n.” he shouted your name. “y/n, come here please!”

“What?” you turned around.

“We need to let Hermione know everything. As soon as possible. Get a quill ready.” he rushed you.

“Shouldn’t we read the notebook first?”

“Oh sure we will but we better start writing already and send Idiv on her way to the Ministry.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. tag list!

@ur-riddikulus @anyqueen008 @fuckingalohomora-bitch

[ijustwant2write]

Grow Up Fast-Fred Weasley x Reader (Part 2)

(GIF credit to @everygif​)

Part 1

Masterlist

Prompt List

‘OMG! I loved Grow Up Fast-Fred Weasley x Reader! I’ll love to see a part two where they go get the baby back! Hopefully if you have time, it was so cute‘

‘Grow Up Fast was so cute and amazing!! Part 2???‘

‘loved you’re recent Fred piece on the baby! just wondering if you could do another one along those lines but the reader is pregnant with twins and the whole family is finding it special obviously because Fred’s a twin, just something along those lines 💖‘

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, George Weasley x Reader (brother-in-law), Weasley family x Reader (in-laws)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Adoption, pregnancy symptoms/pregnancy talk (throwing up/check ups/scans/trimesters), lots and lots and lots of fluff

                                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Are we really doing this?” I excitedly breathed out, squeezing Fred’s hand.

He slightly nodded, looking apprehensive himself.“We really are.”

We were stood inside the orphanage, and this wasn’t our first time here. Ever since the baby had left our short care, something had felt off in our lives. In the beginning, we blamed it on the shock of it all; it’s not everyday that you find an abandoned baby behind your shop. Even George pointed this out, saying that our minds seemed to be elsewhere. So here we stood, waiting for the care worker to come back down the hall, but this time she wouldn’t be by herself.

I held back an excited giggle when she turned around the corner with the baby in a carrier. He was awake, kicking his legs about under his blanket, gurgling away as if he knew he was going to his forever home. I tried not to start crying, even though my emotions were all over the place, but it seemed that Fred was happy to let the tears fall. Smiling up at him, I quickly made him face me, giggling as I wiped away his tears. We didn’t exchange any words, but he nodded his at me as if I had asked if he was alright.

“Here he is, little Tommy.” the woman beamed, handing him over to us.

Fred held the carrier in both arms, and we cooed at Tommy. We had helped pick out a name for him when they couldn’t find any recent hospital records, they had no idea where he came from or who his mother was. And just like that, we were taking him home with us.

Once home, we found ourselves lying on the bed, with Tommy in the middle (just like we had the first time we brought him home), and just staring. We had fed him before, meaning he was now sleepy, slowly dozing off.

“What do we do know?” Fred whispered.

“I don’t know.” I honestly answered.“It feels so strange to have him home again, even after seeing him in the care home for so many months.”

“I wish we were there to see him properly grow, he’s so much bigger now.”

“Well he’s here now. And it’s almost his first birthday, we should start planning.”

Fred chuckled, eyes widening when Tommy stirred. Tommy opened his eyes, face scrunching up to cry when I pulled him closer, holding onto him. He calmed down, a few whimpers escaping him before he nodded off again. I glanced at Fred, who was already looking at me, sharing a smile. This was our life now.

A few more months passed, filled with getting used to being parents; the late nights, early mornings, dealing with the ear piercing cries and smelly nappies, but also the bursts of giggles, funny noises and cuddles. So many of our friends and family had come forward to help, giving advice and wanting to get to know the new member of the family. Molly had been extremely enthusiastic after finding out we planned to adopt Tommy. She had worried that there had been problems with us, that we weren’t able to have babies of our own, though even after reassurance, she was still excited. And she offered to babysit way too much (though sometimes that was used to our advantage). 

Now it was the day of Tommy’s first birthday. Since there were no hospital records to show his birth date, they had to give it their best guess. Nevertheless, Tommy was going to have a proper birthday. We had decorated the home, our presents were stacked next to the fireplace, the cake was displayed alongside the rest of the food, and I had picked out his outfit for the day, now all that was left to do was wait for the guests. 

“Wow, look at my handsome boys!” I exclaimed when I entered the living room, seeing Fred holding up Tommy to look at himself in the mirror. 

Fred gasped, turning around so that they were looking at me.“Tommy, look at mummy! Good thing she put in an effort too.”

I scoffed a laugh.“Is everything ready?”

“Yep. Guests should be arriving any minute.”

“Today is all about you Tommy.” I tickled his stomach, laughing with him as he squealed.

The party went amazingly. My family and Fred’s turned up at the same time, all loudly entering our home, gifts in hands, talking over one another. It was hard to take it all in, trying to answer all their questions as they passed me their coats and took off their shoes. Although all their excitement got the best of them, instantly going to greet Tommy and Fred, I didn’t mind, relishing the sight of our entire family together; it was the simple things in life that you could miss, and this was one of them. The day was filled with laughs, too much food and bad singing. There were also nudges towards Ron and Hermione, as well as Harry and Ginny about children, and poor George was being told to keep his search going for the right girl. Both grandmother’s wanted time with Tommy, but I knew he was going to become annoyed being passed around too much. Everyone was content watching him sit up by himself, cushions surrounding him in case he fell, playing with his toys.

Sitting back with Hermione, I found it hard to concentrate on her words. I suddenly felt tired, and also didn’t want to even think about the lunch I had served up. Trying to keep up with the conversation, I sipped at my water, feeling ill. Perhaps I was over tired from the late nights with Harry, we hadn’t had a gathering like this in a while, it was a lot to keep up with, especially when you were one of the hosts. I excused myself, quickly walking to the bathroom. Just as I was about to splash some water on my face, a horrible feeling rose in my throat, and I found myself bent over the toilet being sick. No, surely not, I couldn’t be could I?

Luckily I wasn’t throwing up for long, taking a moment to catch my breath, causing me to cough. Slowly standing, not feeling dizzy now, and quickly brushing my teeth as I flushed the toilet. Checking my reflection, I sighed when I saw how pale I had become. People would definitely notice, if not, then Fred certainly would. I had to act normal, be as bright and bubbly as I was ten minutes ago.

Upon my return, there was music playing, Ginny and Hermione swaying with Tommy on the floor whilst our parents conversed, and the lads talked about something unrelated to babies, families or weddings. Passing by them, I smiled, needing a glass of water. I realised Fred had followed me into the kitchen, sighing as I realised I would have to tell him.

“(Y/N), you don’t look well, are you OK?” Fred asked closely, his hands rubbing my arms up and down as he stood behind me. 

I nodded after taking a sip of water.“Yeah. I’m fine now.”

“What does that mean?”

I turned around to face him, leaning back against the counter.“I um...I was just sick in the toilet.”

“Should we take you to a doctor? Do you need healing? What are your symptoms?” he rushed.

“No, I’m fine really. Perhaps I ate something bad....or....”

“Or what?”

“Fred, your mum babysat for us a couple of weeks ago.”

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“We were alone, all day and all night...can you connect the dots?”

It took him a few more seconds before it clicked, and as his eyes widened, I had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop him from yelling.

“Yes, Fred, I might be pregnant.” I whispered.

“Uh, am I interrupting something here?” Ron said from the doorway, confused when he saw the position we were in.

“Uh, y-yes! Fred was about to yell about the cake, but...but we didn’t want Harry to hear and get too excited.”

Ron furrowed his eyebrows at us as he slowly stepped back.“OK. I mean, he’s only one, I’m sure he wouldn’t have realised.”

Removing my hand from Fred’s mouth, I let out a sigh of relief.“Look, we don’t know if that’s true yet, so for now, don’t even think about it.”

“But, if you are...” Fred trailed off, smiling to himself.

“Would...would you be alright with that?”

“Would you?”

We hadn’t come back to that conversation, instead trying to focus on the rest of the party. Because Tommy was easily tired out, they didn’t stay for much longer. At any other time, I would insist they stay, even after putting Tommy to bed. However, I wasn’t being a good host as I let them put on their shoes and coats, each waving goodbye to little Tommy. With the door closed, and just the three of us leftover, Fred and I flopped onto the sofa, letting Tommy roam and tire himself out.

“I’ll book an appointment for this week.” I mumbled, trying to not let my eyes droop.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Fred said.

“I...I don’t know. It would be nice but George might get suspicious.”

“Would it be so bad if he found out? You know he would keep it a secret.”

“That’s true. Alright, come with me. Let’s find out together.”

And that’s what happened. Unfortunately it was almost another two weeks before I was able to be checked over; there had been a strange atmosphere as we waited, that’s all we were concentrating on. Tommy still received as much love as he usually did, but there were times where I would stress about the future. Tommy was just one, and if I was pregnant, there wasn’t going to be a big age gap between the children. That would be hard. They would be toddlers together, there would be screaming, crying, toilet training, the money for nappies, clothes, toys....but every time I found myself down that hole, Fred was there to pull me out, consoling me, assuring me we would be alright with one more child.

I had been bouncing Tommy on my lap as we waited for the doctor to see us. Fred had to take him away from me, worried that I would cause him to be sick, but it was a nervous tick. I was extremely grateful to have Fred with me, concentrating on his thumb running over the back of my hand, and the gentle kisses he would place on my forehead. But the appointment went by in a flash, and as we walked outside, I couldn’t help but squeal in excitement and shock, exclaiming loudly to everyone around me;

“WE’RE PREGNANT!”

George obviously had to know first, seeing as we took the day off work. But he was sworn to secrecy. We wanted to keep it under wraps for a while, waiting to see what my first trimester was like. The excitement was almost too much for me, I couldn’t stop picturing what it was going to be like for Tommy to have a sibling. Another person to add to our family, someone else to give our love to. Things were going well, of course there were the horrible symptoms, though I said to myself over and over again that this would be worth. The weeks whizzed by, and soon, I was starting to show, meaning Fred and I couldn’t stop rubbing the tiny bump. I had bawled when Tommy rested his head on it one night, as if he understood his brother or sister was in there.

We knew it would be impossible to keep it hidden anymore, and I seemed very healthy so far. We were also bursting to tell our friends and family, trying to think of ways to announce it. Fred suggested huge fireworks that wrote it out, but I knew that would be too much. Instead, he settled for a cake where the icing would start writing out the message ‘We’re Pregnant!’ when the candles were lit. Once again, the family found themselves squashed together, this time meeting at the Burrow. Tommy stood on Harry’s lap, clumsily using his face to balance himself as Fred and I caught everyone’s attention.

“We thought we would bring you all something special, a thank you for supporting us through the entire adoption process and for helping us get used to being parents.” I explained, pushing the cake into the centre of the table.

The candles had just been lit, and as everyone licked their lips at the sight of it, they realised what was happening. Screams, hollers and cheers erupted throughout the small room, causing me to burst into tears at the happiness. This was good, this was going to be an amazing chapter of my life.

My mother and molly would send me pregnancy books, recipes for meals that were good for the baby, or just natter on and on about advice, side effects, and what childbirth actually entailed. Sometimes it was a bit too much, I would wish they held some details back. The checkups were going well, Tommy’s behaviour was getting better as he grew, also Fred’s enthusiasm seemed to never die down. However, it had come to that certain appointment, the one some couples longed for. It was time to find out the gender of our child. The results we were given weren’t what we were expecting.

Stepping into the shop, I relaxed when I saw it wasn’t too busy. Fred was desperate to tell his brother the news. As he went to get him, I laughed at Tommy’s wide eyes, taking in all the colours and noises. Fred gestured for me to follow him into the stock room, getting their workers to take over the floor. As I stepped in, flashbacks to Tommy as a newborn came to me. How strange, it was almost like a full circle.

“So, what’s it gonna be then?” George grinned.

I giggled at Fred who was almost jumping up and down in excitement.“Go on then, I said you could tell him.”

“Well, Georgie, it’s a boy-”

He threw his arms up in the air.“Yes! I knew it!”

“And a girl.”

“Wait, what?” his arms slowly sank down.

“We’re having twins! There’s going to be another set of Weasley twins!”

George responded with a loud cheer, throwing himself onto his brother in an engulfing hug. They were patting each other on the back, at first jumping about before they calmed down, swaying side to side.

“Freddie, that’s amazing! (Y/N), you’re going to be massive!”

I scoffed a laugh, knowing he meant no harm.“Thank you very much George. You’ve already earned yourself a whole weekend of babysitting.”

“Have you told mum yet?”

“No,” Fred said,“you’re the first.”

“She’s going to go crazy.”

“So is mine.” I stated.

“Who would have thought, eh? Another set of twins?”

“I’m going to finally know what it was like to raise you two. Perhaps I should have a masterclass from your mum.”

“She’ll give you lots of tips, and stories about how much of a terror we were.”

“Great, looking forward to that.”

Leaving the shop, Fred took over carrying Tommy in one arm, his other hand holding mine. We dawdled on our way home, seeming to be in no rush as we took in what news we were given today.

I smiled as I placed a hand on my bump.“Fred?”

“Hm?” Tommy was already falling asleep on his shoulder.

“Are we really doing this?”

He smiled back.“We really are.”

[favefandomimagines]

Vanilla & Cherries (f.w.

Summary: it takes a quidditch accident to make Fred admit he has feelings for you.

AN: i went through like three different plots while writing this lol also soul surfer chapter 10 will be up wednesday!!

request: @teentvimagines Hey! Excited to read you work. Enemies to lovers sort of thing with Fred Weasley? Maybe it’s a slytherin reader in the same year as George and Fred and they’ve always been competitive at quidditch but when they’re paired in class they start flirting???

The first time you knew that Fred Weasley had an undying hatred for you, was your second year at Hogwarts. 

You never had an issue with him or his family before. You actually liked them and they’re family dynamic. It was just you and your dad, your mother having died of a magical illness when you were 12. Everyone knew you were a pureblood wizard but you were the butt of every joke when it came to only have one magical parent.

Of course you scared everyone so no one had the guts to say anything to your face. 

You always thought the Weasley twins were nice people. Until you heard Fred talk about how unfortunate it is for you to be in Slytherin with only one magical parent. He didn’t believe you had the makings of being a powerful witch.

You changed his mind when you jinxed him the next day. It was harmless of course and you made your message clear. 

The second time you were sure Fred Weasley loathed you, George had invited you to the Burrow for Christmas holiday, your father having to go out of town. Just because you were a Slytherin didn’t mean you weren’t a nice person to those who deserved it. Being a Slytherin had nothing to do with being a terrible person but about your ambition and drive. What a witch or wizard did with that was up to them. 

Fred was less than enthused at the fact that you would be infiltrating his holiday at home. When you arrived with them and the Golden Trio, Molly gave you a large, motherly hug that you weren’t used too. 

You forgot what it was like to be hugged by your own mother so Molly Weasley, the definition of what it means to be a mom, hugging you felt good. It meant more to you than you thought it would. 

That was until Fred made a distasteful comment about your mom. How family gatherings like this probably weren’t common in your household. 

Obviously it hurt your feelings. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying when you quietly excused yourself. Molly scolded her son for being so rude to you when George got up and followed you out. 

George was more of a gentler person and he never had a problem with you. And he never knew why his twin brother disliked you so much. It was a mystery even to him. 

He found you sitting on the front porch of the house and he sat down next to you. You turned your face so he wouldn’t see you wipe the tears from your face but he saw you anyways. 

“I’m sorry about Fred. He’s not usually like that.” George said softly. “I don’t know why he hates me so much. I’ve never done anything to him that he didn’t deserve.” You replied. “Don’t let what he says get to you.” George told you. 

“It’s hard when I’ve had a crush on him since second year.” You said quietly. “You have a crush on him? Fred of all people?” George questioned. “Yes, but I’m trying to get over it. He despises me, there’s no way I can tell him.” You answered. “You never know. He’s quite the complicated person.” George said. 

After that day, George tried to reign in his brother when it came to comments about your mother and your family. Those two topics remained off limits when the two of you would start the not so friendly banter. 

It then transitioned to the Quidditch pitch. You were the best chaser on the Slytherin team and you somehow became the captain after Marcus Flint graduated. 

Your team needed to be at the top of their game if you were going to beat Gryffindor. You’d never let them hear it but they were good. Sometimes too good for your liking and you strived to be better than them.  

And the amount of times Fred would throw Bludgers at you became too many to count. And the amount of times you wracked up points for Slytherin after effortlessly dodging the Bludgers he threw at you, also became too many to count. 

He made it his mission to knock you off your broom, letting George worry about the other chasers. 

During a Slytherin v. Gryffindor match, Fred would not let up. Every time you got a Quaffle and made your way to Gryffindor’s hoops, there Fred was sending Bludger your way. 

Graham Montague, a fellow chaser, tossed you a Quaffle and you were surprised that Fred was nowhere in sight. You took that as your chance to fly as fast as you could to the other end of the pitch. 

It seemed as if you’d be able to score Slytherin some points until the team’s keeper called your name. 

You turned around and saw a bludger headed straight for you. You knew you should have moved out of the way and disregarded your plan to get points, but you threw the quaffle through the hoop anyways. 

“Ten points to Slytherin!” Lee Jordan announced. Your celebration was short lived when the bludger harshly hit your left side, causing you to go crashing to the ground below. 

At first, every Gryffindor cheered. Slytherin’s best chaser and team captain was out of the game. But when you weren’t moving, however, Madam Hooch paused the game and ran out to where you were on the ground. 

Your teammates as well as the Gryffindor team, huddled around you as Madam Hooch examined you. You had woken up and instantly the pain became too much. Your head was pounding and you were almost certain the pain in your shoulder was so excruciating you almost couldn’t feel it.

No one had ever seen you cry before. Not once has anyone gotten the notoriety for being the person who made Y/F/N Y/L/N cry. Though that changed thanks to Fred Weasley. You were sobbing on the ground due to pain, it being the only thing you could do in that moment. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Malfoy asked. All you could do was let out another sob as Madam Hooch tried to keep you still. A sound that made Fred’s chest tighten.

“Her shoulder is dislocated and she might have a concussion. We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey immediately.” Madam Hooch instructed. 

Her, along with Malfoy, helped you get off the ground, your good arm being thrown over his shoulder. 

“10 points from Gryffindor.” Madam Hooch snapped at the redheaded Beater as she helped you limp across the pitch. 

It wasn’t Fred’s intention to hurt you. Usually you moved out of the way of every Bludger he threw at you but this time you didn’t. And seeing you get hurt gave him a bad feeling in his stomach. 

George patted him on the shoulder, mostly out of pity. After the game and back in the common room, Hermione was giving the older twin a long lecture about how much you didn’t deserve to get hurt. 

“Does anyone know how she is?” George asked. “Her shoulder is severely dislocated. Madam Pomfrey could only do so much. It has to heal naturally now.” Ron explained. 

Saying Fred felt guilty was a large understatement. He felt terrible for hurting you and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get near you to apologize. 

“I don’t get it, Fred. Y/N is nothing but nice to us. Even for a Slytherin, she doesn’t let Malfoy torment us nearly as much.” Hermione said. Fred remained silent, alone with his thoughts, but he could feel George staring at him. 

That’s when it came to the younger twin. His brother was in love with you. “Merlin, Freddie, you love Y/N.” He said. “What?” Ron questioned. “He’s too afraid of his own feelings so he’s been terrible to Y/N to make that feeling go away.” George explained. 

Everyone looked to Fred for some sort of explanation but they only received him getting off the couch and marching to his room. 

__

The next morning, Fred looked for you at breakfast. Arriving early to see if he’d be able to apologize for hurting you during the match. You walked in later than usual, Hermione helping you carry your books to your house table. 

Fred watched you thank Hermione as you sat down, adjusting the sling on your arm. As you did so, you winced in pain, Pansy probably asking you if you needed help or if you were okay. Which made him feel even worse that it was all his fault. 

With your own band of guard dogs, making sure no one bumped into you the wrong way, there was no way he’d be able to talk to you alone. 

When he was on his way to potions, however, he saw you walking alone. Struggling to carry your bag, he slid next to your side and took your bag. “Let me help.” He said as he situated it in on his shoulder. 

You glared up at him, but you didn’t stop walking. You couldn’t afford to be late for potions and let Fred Weasley cost you even more than just Quidditch. Due to the anger you were feeling towards him, it caused you to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“I think you’ve done enough already.” You snapped, reaching for your bag. “I’m trying to help you, Y/N. After all I’m the reason you got hurt.” Fred said. “Because, for some reason, you hate me so much you threw that Bludger at me. Yeah, I was there.” You replied. “Y/N, I’m sorry-” He started before you snatched your bag back from him. “I don’t want to hear it.” You said sadly before entering the classroom. 

You took your seat at your table, Adrian Pucey usually being your potions partner. That was until Snape decided to have everyone work in random pairs for that day’s lesson. 

One by one, he listed off your classmates until he said your last name. “Anyone but Fred, anyone but Fred.” You muttered to yourself. “Mr. Weasley and Ms. Y/N. Try not to mortally injure her this time, Weasley.” Professor Snape said. 

Adrian gave you a look of pity before Fred took his spot. “It must be fate.” He commented. You hummed, uninterested in the conversation. You opened up your book and followed the recipe for the potion you were making. 

Amorentia was not going to work in your favor that day. Especially since you’re going to have to tell the whole class that you were attracted to the very person who dislocated your shoulder. 

Through out the entirety of class, Fred was not paying attention. At least not to the potion. He was paying more attention to you as you measured out ingredients. A loose piece of hair fell in front of your face as your bit your lip in concentration. 

He knew you were beautiful but now that he got a chance to stare at you without you noticing, he realized it even more. You added the last ingredient and a pink steam floated from the cauldron. 

You let out a sigh of relief, mainly at the fact that you had successfully finished the potion. “That’s it?” Fred questioned. “What do you mean?” You asked. “We finished before everyone else.” He said. “I’m number one in our year in potions. That’s why.” You said with a dry laugh. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Weasley. I see you have finished your potion.” Snape started as he stopped at your table. “Weasley, what do you smell?” He asked. “What do I smell?” Fred questioned. “Precisely.” Snape confirmed. 

Fred furrowed his eyebrows and leaned towards the cauldron. “I smell vanilla, cherries and uh, poppies.” He answered. A small smile formed on your face at Fred’s answer. Unbeknownst to him, your perfume was vanilla and cherries and you always had fresh poppies in your room, the scent staining your robes.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” Snape instructed. ‘Great’ You thought to yourself. “Cloves, fireworks and Zonko’s.” You answered. “Write a reflection on your efforts and you’re free to go.” Snape said before leaving the table. 

Fred looked back to you and noticed a smug look on your face. “What are you smiling about?” He asked. “Vanilla, cherries and poppies, huh?” You asked. “Yeah, that’s what I smelled. What does it mean?” Fred questioned. 

“You really don’t pay attention in class.” You muttered. “I tend to let whatever Snape says go in one ear and out the other.” Fred commented. “Amorentia is a love potion. What you smell is what you’re attracted to. Your deepest desire.” You explained. 

Fred’s eyes widened at your words, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Well, you’re not innocent in all this. I’m assuming what you smelled was my dear brother. After all, he’s been nicer to you.” He said, jealousy lacing his words. 

You laughed at him and at the fact that he was oh so oblivious. “No you moron. It was you. Though after you nearly killed me I’m starting to rethink it.” You teased. 

“Wait, so you, Y/F/N Y/L/N, desires me?” He asked flirtatiously. “And you, Fred Weasley, desire me.” You answered. “Who would’ve thought you’d fancy me back?” You asked, mainly to yourself but Fred still heard. “You’ve fancied me this whole time?” He asked. 

“Guilty.” You answered. “And I can’t believe you’ve felt the same way when you literally almost murdered me during Quidditch and said those awful things about me.” You added. “Not my finest moment, I agree. I guess you could say I was scared of how I felt about you so I pretended I didn’t like you. Which was one of the hardest things to do because I never liked hurting you.” Fred said. 

You looked him fondly as he explained his dilemma. “Fred, sometimes not admitting how you feel is worse than actually feeling.” You told him. “That’s rich coming from a Slytherin.” He joked. You nudged him with your good arm as you rolled your eyes. 

“Just because I’m a Slytherin doesn’t mean I’m heartless.” You said. “I know. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He said. 

You smiled up at him, getting lost at how handsome he was. And he was doing the same. This being the first conversation the two of have had without it turning into a screaming match. 

You were both interrupted by George throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at his brother. “We should really write this reflection so we can get out of here.” You said, focusing back on your assignment. 

“When we do, do you wanna maybe hang out?” Fred stammered, stumbling over his words. “I would love that. Just don’t injure me again this time.” You teased. 

Fred smiled down at you as he watched you write on a piece of parchment. Never would he have thought that he would fall in love with the girl who he swore was his enemy. 

[peachiikawa]

Fly | Route Selected: O. Tooru

genre: mafia au, choose your own adventure

warnings: honestly nothing too bad in this route

word count: 3.1k

Fly Masterlist

“I choose--”

But before you could even finish your sentence, the front door opened and an arm draped around your shoulders

“They’ll be with me”

You looked to see who had just walked in and were stunned to see such a beautiful man

“Very funny oikawa, now let them go. This is a personal matter”

Daichi took a step forward and you could feel the tension in the air

But the silence was broken with a chuckle from oikawa

“Dont worry so much daichi. They arent just a threat to you theyre a threat to the entire community so to make your burden easier ill gladly take them in. you have better things to worry about anyways”

The smile on his face was far from a friendly one

Even you could tell it was a bit condescending and it made you a bit scared

He led you out the door but not before turning his head one last time

“Tell your old man seijou gives their regards”

With that he led you to his car and got you buckled in

“Now where do you live..?”

“My name is y/n and i live down the street and around the block”

He drove you home and made sure you got into your apartment

“Come in tomorrow whenever youd like, preferable before noon though. Heres my card if you have any questions. Goodnight y/n!”

He kept the conversation brief and didnt look back as he left

As soon as you closed the door you leaned against it and slid down onto the ground

Just what had you gotten yourself into?

You couldnt really sleep that night knowing that in the morning you were going to be working with the mafia

So you took an early shower and got to the address on the card oikawa gave you the night before around eight o’clock

You took a nervous breath before walking into the gigantic corporate building

‘Seijoh Industries’

The company had a long reputation of being in the modeling and fashion industry

It scared you to think that so many big companies were involved in who knows what else

You pushed the glass doors open and immediately got lost

Like how do you even navigate the inside of this building???

It wasnt long before you got stopped

...by some guy with blonde hair with lines in them

Was he trying to look like a tennis ball??

As he steps toward you you take one back until youre against a wall

“What the fuck are you doing here? Youd better leave. Now”

You feel like your stomach is about to drop before you hear that all too familiar voice

“Maddog what are you doing to y/n! Its their first day you shouldnt be so mean”

Oikawa grabbed your hand and led you down the hall to a pristine office

He sat down behind his desk and organized a few papers for you

“Youre here bright and early. I was half expecting you to just not show up”

His eyes glanced up from the papers in his hands for a brief moment

“But im glad you did it would have been a..hassle to find you”

The way that sentence came out of his mouth with that smile on his face sent a shiver down your back

He handed you a few papers and a list of tasks to do

Most of which consisted of you running errands and organizing some cabinets around the building

“Finish those and if you get done with that before the end of the day you can do whatever. Just dont poke your nose where it doesnt belong”

The smile on his face never left once your entire conversation and it left you with a weird feeling in your gut

As you turned to leave you just couldnt shake the weird feeling you got every time you saw it

But you went on your way, trying not to think about it too hard

You did each task with ease and you really thought that some of them were a bit unnecessary since most of the things on the list were already done

It was almost therapeutic doing normal things, it at least made you feel less nervous

It didnt take you long before you finished your tasks

“Hey you”

You jumped at the sound of someone’s voice and slowly turned towards a man with short and spiky brown hair

He held out a couple of papers to you

“I need you to make a few copies of these and then bring them to trashykawa”

Your eyebrows furrowed and he noticed your confusion

“I mean Oikawa. Sorry, force of habit. Im Iwaizumi by the way. I work over in communications''

You fumbled with the papers in your hands, trying to get a grip before he noticed how nervous you were

His sharp eyes were fixed on you which made you even more self-conscious 

You let out a shaky breath before introducing yourself

“Im y/n. Its my first day working here”

He nodded his head

“Yeah well just lay low if you want to survive this mess. Ill see you later y/n.”

A few weeks go by and it seems to be the same thing filling your days

This place wasnt as scary as you first thought and everyone seemed nice enough

The beeping from the copy machine brought you back to reality from your daydream and headed back to oikawas office

Though you had been here for almost a month now, it never got easier to be around him

Something was just too off putting about him

You took a deep breathe before knocking on the door to which you got a muffled “come in”

He didnt look up as you set the papers on his desk and only looked back up at you when he didnt hear your leave

He took off the glasses he was wearing and set them down in front of him

“Can i help you with something?”

Again, that smile on his face just...didnt feel right

“I was done with my work, is there anything else I can do for you?”

He just shook his head

“That should be it for me! Why dont you go see if iwa needs anything?”

You could tell that he wanted nothing more than to have just a moment to himself

And the constant flow of people probably didnt help

“This might be bold of me to say but that smile you wear around people...you dont need to put up any false pretenses around me. I know my situation and I know it isnt all sunshine and rainbows so feel free to be yourself around me. So one last time, before I go, do you need anything?”

His eyes were wide at what you just said

You had only been here for what? A few weeks? With minimal contact as well

So how did you notice?

The only other person whos ever called him out on it was iwaizumi

And he hated being read like this but he kept that smile up

“Nope im fine”

You nodded and left, closing the door behind you

And as soon as you did he threw his pen down on his desk and held his head in his hands

How...how did you see through him

He had carefully made this mask of his so that no one would be able to see how he was feeling

Emotions were a weakness

He didnt need them

And he sure as hell didnt need you

The next week he made it his mission to completely ice you out

No contact at all

And it made you kind of frustrated

The man steals you away from the other mafia you almost became affiliated with and just throws you to the side?

So you went to him after him doing whatever he could to make sure he avoided you

The man literally had tennis-head outside of his office to scare you away

“What are you doing”

The sudden voice behind you almost made you scream

“Oh iwaizumi! Dont scare me like that!”

You smacked his shoulder as you two hid around the corner from oikawas office

“If you must know im trying to get into oikawas office. I'm sick of his avoiding me like im the plague”

Iwaizumi let out a deep sigh

He knew why oikawa was avoiding you

And he also thought it was a little much

Wasnt it about time he stopped being scared?

“Tell you what y/n, ill distract kenta and while i do you can sneak into oikawas office”

Your eyes sparkled and he almost wanted to laugh

“Really?!” 

He nodded and patted your head

“Get that idiot out of his funk”

He then walked up to kenta and walked off with him, giving you a thumbs up behind his back

And when they were out of sight you knocked on oikawas door and didnt wait for him to respond before barging in

To say he was shocked was an understatement

“What are you-”

“Stop. Before you go on about how youre busy just please listen to me. I dont know what i did to deserve this amount of avoidance but if its about what i said that day, i dont regret what i said. And i wish you would stop avoiding your problems and just confront them”

Confront his problems?

What the hell do you know about his problems

“So you came in here to tell me that? What the fuck do you know about me? Youre just some street rat that poked their nose where it didnt belong. You dont know me so stop trying to tell me what to fucking do! Emotions make you weak and i dont need that”

At this point he had you backed against a wall

And when he realized what just happened he pushed himself away from you

God what the hell was he even doing

Hes spent years perfecting his facade

And then you come barging in and it just breaks?

You slowly approached him and put a hand on his shoulder

“See? Was that so bad? Honestly, seeing you like that was refreshing. Feel free to keep the mindset that emotions make you weak, i wont try to convince you otherwise. Thats a realization you need to make on your own but for now please dont hold back around me”

For the first time in a while oikawas heart stood still, almost as if he could feel himself again

“Whatever. I still have paperwork to do so leave or make yourself useful”

He shrugged your hand off of him and went back to his desk

You just smiled and nodded your head

“Ill be back with a coffee for you!”

And when you exited you bumped into the back of kentarou

“Ah sorry! Ill be back!”

As you ran off kenta took a step toward you

“What the hell..get back here!”

But before he could take another oikawa cleared his throat

“You can leave your post mad-dog. Youre no longer needed here”

Kenta nodded his head but was too shocked to move for a moment, caught off guard by the small smile that lingered on his boss’ face

The couple weeks after that you were allowed back in his office and he even started to request your presence at times for no other reason than he just wanted you to sit in the room with him

And that smile he used to give you was now replaced by a soft, genuine smile that made your heart flutter

Little things started to become more noticeable to you

Like how cute it was when he pouted his lips when he was really focused

And honestly he was too

Your smile was maddening

And your laugh made him feel like he was being swallowed whole, unable to breath

It scared him

Nothing good has ever happened when he became emotionally attached to someone

“Oikawa, are you okay?”

You put your hand up to his forehead and checked for a fever

He could feel his cheeks heating up and gently swatted your hand away

“No im fine. Dont worry about me”

He watched your face fill with concern and his heart lurched forward

This feeling...it scared him. But for now, if its you, hes willing to see where this goes

“Good morning oikawa!”

You walked into his office with his morning coffee which he gladly took from your hands

“Good morning y/n”

He had a job later and needed all the energy he could get

But not before having his morning conversation with you

“I'm leaving around noon with maki and mattsun. Iwa’s in charge till i get back so if you need anything ask him”

You could tell by the way he was talking that it was something serious and therefore probably something to do with the mafia

Sure you had done a few things for Seijoh like fax some papers and have oikawa sign a few things but nothing to where oikawa needed to leave has ever come up

He could see anxiety cloud over your face

“Hey”

He grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze

“I’ll be fine. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”

You nodded your head

“Please be safe”

Worry reflected in your eyes and it made him almost go weak

All he could do was nod and give a half smile

The entire time he was away you sat at his desk anxiously waiting for his return

...

“Cough up the money oikawa. We had a deal”

Oikawa looked at the man in front of him with his trademark empty smile

“That wasnt our deal. Now give us what you owe”

The room was tense but nothing that oikawa hasnt dealed with before

But his world soon turned upside down with what was thrown on the table that stood between them next

The color drained from his face as he looked at pictures taken of you without anyone knowing

“Where the hell did you get these”

The man in front of him just laughed

“Now thats an interesting expression oikawa. Never thought id see the day where that smile of yours wasnt on your face”

His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists

“You know, it would almost be a shame if something were to happen to them”

Oikawas eyes widened in fear

It felt as if time around him had stopped for this one moment

And it made him want to puke

“Dont you dare lay a hand on them”

His jaw was so tense that he thought he was about to pop a blood vessel

“Then give us the money”

He wasnt left with much of a choice

So he did what he was told

“See? Was that so hard?”

“Are we done here?”

He was itching to get back as soon as possible

To make sure you were okay

He couldnt rest until he knew you were fine

“Yes now leave”

The car ride seemed to last forever, maki and mattsun had never seen their boss like this and exchanged subtle glances the entire ride

As soon as the car stopped he ran into the building and to your desk

And when he saw you werent there his heart dropped

‘Where are you, y/n?!’

The only other place you could be was his office

He slammed his door open only to see you jump up from his desk, the sleep in your eyes still evident

He let out the breath he didnt even know he was holding as soon as his eyes landed on you

He went straight over to you and pulled you into his arms

The tightness of the hold around you was comforting yet alarming

You brought your arms up to wrap around him and you swear you could feel him slightly shaking

“Oikawa?”

You voice was soft and made him feel weak in the knees

“Just…let me stay like this for a moment”

After that day you were moved into his home and he never left your side

He never fully explained what happened that day

But you knew it had shaken him

Especially since you havent seen his smile since then

You were escorted everywhere

And when you asked why you were only given the short answer of “i said i’d guard you so i'm doing that”

You didnt mind being with him, really

If anything you liked being able to be with him all the time

You just hoped you werent being a hindrance

So one night as you laid in bed while oikawa sat on the ground next to you leaning against the bed frame, you turned towards him

He had been doing this lately to “guard” you and you knew he wasnt sleeping much

“Oikawa”

His eyes immediately met yours

“Am i being a burden on you?”

Though it was dark, he could hear the sadness in your voice

“I just feel like ive been holding you back lately and thats the last thing i want to do”

He cupped your face with his hand and gently stroked your cheek

“Not to mention that you havent smiled once since coming back that day and it just all feels very distant and lonesome. I hope you know that you can talk to me, i’ll never judge you for anything”

And in those few simple words the gate that had been holding back all of his emotions back suddenly broke

“y/n im scared”

His head hung low as his lips trembled

“Im scared to lose you and im scared that ive become weak since being with you but i just cant let you go. Losing you makes me feel more terrified than anything else”

The thought of losing you made it feel as if he was drowning and the water was filling his lungs with a burning sensation

You sat up in your bed and took his hand in yours

“Then why dont you turn that fear into strength? Hiding me...putting me under 24 hour surveillance...its no different than running. I dont want to be away from you either oikawa”

How did you always clear his head? It was like your words just made everything make sense

He made his way onto your bed and started to kiss you, soft yet hungry for more

He could never get enough of you

You made his heart full

And you became his strength

You made him strong and he could never forget this debt

taglist:  @the-ironic-me @multisun @my-mass-hysteria @sugawsites @youbloodylegendyoudidit @sinthxy @celamoon​ @tinymouth @fait-de-fleurs @tsukifanbase​ @69owo​ @laglyssage @hearteyeskags​ @ntngann​ @shnnn​ @fukuro-dani-ace​​ @exponentially-tired​​ @soy1melk​

[loving-all-for-loki]

Voiecless Love Chapter 8: Hard Day’s Night

(Bucky’s Route)

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2162

Warnings: fluff, maybe a little heat (if you know what I mean), some angst

Tag List: @caffeineoverloadandstudying @zizzlekwum @magicalpieex @buckylokisimp @lokiyoulittle @daddysfavoritesexkitten 

A/N: Welcome to Bucky’s route!!! We’re here!!! YAY!!!!

Two weeks go by since you joined the team for the game night and you’ve been with the Avengers ever since. One day you popped by the training room and joined Steve, wanting him to help you get stronger. The two of you spar for about two hours and you see yourself progressing as a useful member of the team. You even get closer with Steve and start writing on his arm as well. He often asks you if you want to join him in jogs in the morning, but that’s the one thing you turn down. No one can pay you to do that.

As far as Bucky, the two of you spend more time together. You find yourself in his room again reading your books as he watches TV, cuddling until you both fall asleep in each other's arms, like tonight. The two of you relax before you go to bed by reading and watching TV. 

“I think I finally understand this show,” Bucky says. 

You look up to see Jeopardy on the screen and smile, then look back at Bucky who’s staring with a big grin.

“It’s all references and they have to guess, but in question form.”

You nod your head which Bucky chuckles at.

“It’s such a simple concept, but it took so long to register.”

You laugh at his comment which throws him by surprise.

“You laughed,” he states.

Sometimes you forget Bucky isn’t Loki and doesn’t hear you often. The only time anyone but Loki has heard you speak was when you freaked out after he had left for Asgard. You still think about him, knowing you were in love but accepting after two months that you may not see him again. Thor hasn’t said a word about getting him back, not to your surprise. Although Loki was the god of lies, Thor has his own share. 

Bucky is still new to you making sound. He longs for your voice again, remembering how beautiful it was when he heard you the first time despite the circumstances. Even the other teammates want to hear you speak because they know when you do it will be important. Tony laughs how you won’t speak again until Bucky means that much to you as well, which some doubt will ever happen. 

“I’m glad you’re getting more comfortable with me.”

Of course, you write to him, you’ve shown me you felt bad for some past mistakes and have helped me ‘move on’ from Loki. I may not have talked to you much when he and I were together, but you still mean a lot to me.

Bucky looks at the paragraph on his arm and tries to ignore the ‘when he and I were together’ part. You two had never labelled yourself, but the idea of losing you to the manipulative god was a fear of his which is now starting to go away. He shakes off his thought and returns his attention back to you, who he kisses on the head.

You go back to your book and ignore Bucky yelling out answers in hysterical joy. He’s so cute the way he still understands modern things. Two days ago, you had to show him how to download music on his phone, which he also just learned how to use to take photos. He’s taken so many since you’ve shown him, mainly of you. His favorite photo is one where he was lifting you up on his feet, holding your hands while laughing. 

“Y/N, can we talk about something?”

What? “I really like you and I’m sure you know that. I’m not exactly subtle, but I need to know how you feel about me.”

I like you, too, Buck.

“No, I mean,” he sighs, looking off in the window to your left, “I need to know exactly how you feel.”

Okay, I’ll be honest. I like you, but I’m not completely comfortable around you. I can spend time around you and trust you if I need help, but I’m scared to open up because I know how you feel about me. I’m scared to ask for help, even if you will. You think I’m small and innocent because I don’t speak. I’m not. 

“I’m sorry I said that, but I really don’t feel that way about you.”

Then explain every time you take over for me when I do things or how if I get hurt, even if it’s just a papercut, you insist I ‘get help’. I don’t ask for it. I don’t need it.

“I worry about you.”

That’s an issue, too. You need to stop worrying so much. You act like a crazy hound and you can’t focus on anything. You’re addicted to me and it’s exhausting.

Bucky knows it’s all true, but to hear it from you and not Steve is different. There’s a bit of pain to the words. They reside with him more and mean more coming from you. If you’ve noticed the way he is with you, then who hasn’t? And who doesn't have a problem with it besides him? “I’m sorry for treating you like that. It’s unfair.”

I understand you like me and you’re trying to take care of me, but it’s a lot. Sometimes, I need a break from it, not specifically from you, but from your guardian-ness.

“I’ll try to back off, I promise.”

Thank you. Also, please don’t get all weird when I talk about Loki or when you see things of him and I. It makes me uncomfortable.

“What do you mean? I’m fine with you talking about him.”

No, you’re not. You get all angry inside and you speak in short sentences. Let me miss him.

“I will.”

There’s an awkward silence between you two. Bucky has muted the TV due to ads and you’re still reading your book. He contemplates what you said. There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that you’re not going to get over Loki. He was a huge part of your life here and still to this day, the only person you’ve truly talked to you. You trusted him. They didn’t expect you two to get close and that was their mistake. Tony should have jailed him right away, sending him away for him to not have met you. It would have saved you from so much heartbreak.

But Bucky wants to save you now. He can’t help but dwell on you talking about his protectiveness towards you, knowing it bothers you. If anything were to happen to you, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself, but he doesn’t want to drown you in his presence. You snuggle deeper into the silent soldier, distracting him from his thoughts.

He looks down at you and ponders. You’re so small compared to his large frame, so vulnerable. Anybody with ill intent could snap you like a twig, even with all the training you’ve been doing. Sure, he can see the muscle coming through, but you’re in your own world all the time. You ignore people so easily, what if someone were to sneak up? What if he weren’t there to watch over you?

Your yawn disintegrates any thoughts still lingering in his mind. Setting the book on the nightstand, you grab the blankets and attempt to fall asleep with your back to Bucky. He gets out of bed for a moment to turn off the light then returns to your side. The bed dips as he lays down with his arm under your head. He wraps his other arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, his body pressing against you. 

He takes in a deep breath, reminding himself you’re beside him and okay, but he still wants to keep you closer. He wants to get rid of everything bad in your life, including your heartbreak from the absence of the trickster god. 

Just as Bucky closes his eyes to sleep, he hears sniffing. Your body shakes in front of him. It’s not that cold in the room, so Bucky gives you more blankets in case you’re catching some kind of cold until he hears the sniffing again. He leans up on his elbow and looks over your shoulder. There are dark stains on the sheet under you like it soaked up water, then Bucky notices the tears falling down your face. He feels stupid for thinking you were cold.

Bucky grabs your waist and pulls you into him, including turning you around to being on your stomach. You grab the collar of his t-shirt and bury yourself in him. The pain doesn’t go away. It develops inside your stomach, no longer in your heart. Loki has affected every part of you and you can’t let go. Bucky holds you tight and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Even in your heartbreak, Bucky is still there for you. He’s shown jealousy and anger towards Loki before and seeing how kind and gentle he is when you miss him is shocking. He doesn’t like it when you talk about him casually, but when it comes to you missing him, he doesn’t skip a heart beat to be by your side.

You look at Bucky. He meets your eyes with some kind of pity in them.  His beard is slightly growing in from the last few days, his hair getting long as well. For some reason, it’s just now hitting you how handsome he is. You rub your hands up and down his jaw and diverging your eyes from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says.

His words catch your attention again, bringing you out of whatever fantasy is playing in your head. You smile at him and he returns it. He doesn’t smile often, especially in the last few months when Loki came around. It’s so nice to see him happy, even if it’s a short second.

“Thank you.”

Bucky’s smile is even wider now. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he gets you, adjusting you to sit on his lap in bed, the blankets over your shoulder. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and setting his chin on your shoulder.

“You spoke.”

You nod your head. “No, no, speak again please. Why? Why now?”

“Because you make me feel safe.”

“I’m glad,” he smiles. Bucky hugs you even tighter before baking up and looking at you. 

You keep your hands on his jaw as the two of you chuckle. Bucky can feel his heart skip a beat. He thought he was lucky to hear you laugh earlier while reading, but to hear you speak again is a blessing. 

“Your voice is beautiful.”

You blush hard at his words. Not many people compliment you in that way, even Loki, the silver tongue had different words for you. He didn’t acknowledge you speaking when you did and a part of you loved that. You didn’t feel weird or different because of that, but Bucky complimenting you didn’t bother you. There was a part of you that wanted him to compliment you again, but you don’t say anything, not wanting to seem like a brat.

“Never stop speaking, please. For me,” He begs.

“No promises, but I’ll try.”

Bucky smiles at your words again, pulling you close to him. He falls backwards on the bed, pulling you with him so you’re straddling him. Your hair falls down around you two, making a little shield around your heads. A good two minutes pass by as you admire one another, smiling and giggling like fools. Without thinking, Bucky leans up and kisses you. As he leans down, you can see the fear in his eyes as if he’s hoping you don’t get mad at him. You lean down and kiss him back, gently and encouraging. He grabs your waist tightly and rocks you back and forth, creating friction between your two bodies. His lips are soft and inviting. They’re a poison you can see yourself getting drunk on and dying from. His metal arm is cold, sending shivers as he holds you, and contrasting from the heat between your two bodies. For a moment, you slow down and look at him. He looks at you with wonder and his lips slightly part, almost hurt by the sudden seize. 

“I love you,” he whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear. 

You lean down and take his lips again in a passionate kiss. He flips you over so he’s hovering over you on the side. “As much as I’d love to continue this, doll, I’m very tired.”

You chuckle at Bucky’s words as he yawns, further proving his point. He leans back and pulls you into his side, keeping his metal arm around your waist as you tuck your arms in and lean your head on his chest. Kissing your forehead, Bucky closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, feeling better about the day after your conversations. Your voice blesses his dreams.

[thiswasinevitableid]

winter prompt fill 29, indruck, sfw?

29. i should’ve done my shopping a month ago but now i’m running around last minute and when i enter your store, i’m absolutely frazzled. help me.

(Pinecone is borrowed from harrisonator’s fic “Monster Mash”)

Working at Kepler Petco isn’t the worst thing, even during the holiday shopping hellscape months. It’s not like anyone is getting in fistfights over cases of Fancy Feast. Which is why, on the 22nd of December, Duck is unprepared for the sudden sound of hands on hitting the countertop. 

“I need help.” The guy’s about his age, silver hair going patchy black near the top, pink and white striped sweater around his neck and a massive sweater hanging off his lanky frame. His red glasses barely conceal brown, anxious eyes. 

“Sure, what’re lookin for?”

“Rat treats, the kind that won’t make them ill.”

“Can handle that, right this way.” Duck leaves the counter and leads the guy back to the small mammal section. As they go the man spins a ring on his index finger, flushing under the merciless heating vents. 

“I’m sorry for the dramatic entrance. I have a mountain of things to do today and your store closes first.”

Duck glances at the AKC branded clock on the wall, which shows 12:30 p.m, “We close at five.”

“Yes, I know, but I really cannot overstate how behind I am on my Christmas shopping. Or, well, holiday is more accurate, since Joseph celebrates Hanukkah, which means I’m already late on that.” He sighs, runs a finger with chipped black nails through his hair.

“Big family?” Duck points to the row of snacks, grabs the man a basket from the end of the aisle when he starts piling them into his arms. 

“Lots of friends. We’re having a party tomorrow and I completely forgot about it until today. I know it’s ridiculous to forget about a holiday where you can’t turn around without being slapped with a reminder of it, but my brain doesn’t always work in the way I’d like it to.”

“No judgement here. Once forgot my sisters birthday until the minute my mom asked if I could get some candles for the cake after school.”

“Oh dear.” The man smiles, the expression shifting from odd to shy when Duck meets his eyes, “thank you for your help.”

Five minutes later the guy heads towards the register, then stops, backtracking to the display of rats, mice, and hamsters. Duck joins him in case he has questions, and to steal another look at his singular features. They’re not handsome on the surface, but something about them draws his eye back over and over. He’s just in time to hear the man cooing to a pair of brown rats.

“...so lovely, aren’t you just charming? If I could I’d take you home but space is limited. Oh” he blushes when he sees Duck, “I’m, ah, ready to pay now.”

“One of your friends got rats?” He indicates the pile of treats the man is buying.

“Hmm? Oh, no, these are for Luna and Emperor, my rats. I wanted to get them presents too.”

Duck can’t decide if the fact the guy prioritized spoiling his pets on the day he had to buy a bunch of gifts is adorable or worrying.

“As I said, I came here because you close first. And I, ah, I like spoiling them. It’s nice to know exactly how to cheer another living thing up.”

“I get that. Pinecone, that’s my, uh, my cat, gets more treats a month than I do.”

“Someone ought to buy you a few, then.”  The man murmurs, handing over his debit card. 

Duck, caught up in the mechanics of fighting with the card reader, doesn’t realize he’s being flirted with until the man is no more than a silver head merging into the throng outside. 

He’s lowkey annoyed with himself the rest of the day; he’s been in the market for a cute guy, and while his mystery shopper may not be Ryan Gosling, but Duck wouldn’t mind getting his number. 

Since he opened today, he gets off at three, decides to swing by Crate and Barrel in case the apron he thinks Barclay might like. There’s small hallways dotted through the mall, leading to exits or to backrooms.  As he passes one, he gets a glimpse of silver hair and a vibrant scarf. That’s the only good part of what he sees; the man from earlier is pressed close to the shiny wall, trying and failing to get his breathing order.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

He jolts, registers who’s speaking, and looks at the ground, “N-not really. I, part of the reason put this off so long is I can get incredibly overwhelmed in crowds sometimes, and yes I know that makes coming here three days before Christmas even worse an idea but I thought maybe I could handle it, but I’ve only managed to buy two of the gifts I need because I cannot focus with everything going on and, and I’m sorry, here I wanted to charming around you and now you’ve seen this and-”

“What would help?”

“I, I’d like to go somewhere quiet, but there’s nowhere, even the bathrooms are packed.”

“Do you, uh, want to come sit in my car for a bit? I can run the heater so we don’t freeze.”

“That’s really alright?” The question is so small and vulnerable he wants to tuck it into a shoebox to keep it safe.

“Yeah. C’mon, I’m parked on this end.” 

It’s snowing on and off as they walk to his car, and as he gets it running and turns on the heat his passenger finally pulls his clenched hands from his pockets; one holds a fidget cube, the other a very small, plush moth.

“I tried so hard to prepare for every possible future.” Is what he gets as explanation. The man sets both items in his lap and shuts his eyes, breathing slowly in and out. Duck says nothing, opens his phone and plays two rounds of Plants vs. Zombies before he hears anything at all from beside him. 

“Would you mind turning the radio on, at a low volume?”

“Any requests?” Duck hits the power button.

“No talk radio.”

“Can manage that.” He fiddles around and finds the alternative station. Even it has Christmas songs interspersed with the usual mix. 

“Is your name really Duck?”

He wonders if the guy is omnipotent until he remembers his nametag.

“It’s a nickname.”

“I’m Indrid.” He opens his eyes, “thank you for letting me come here to calm down. I may actually manage to succeed in my quest now. It’s so hard, I actually enjoy being out around the lights, the feeling of so many people being happy or trying to do kind things for each other. But it’s easy to get overwhelmed, especially when I’m alone.”

“Would it help if you weren’t?”

“Possibly, but I couldn’t ask you to spend even more time in that mall given you work there.” 

“Got some last minute shoppin to do myself. Besides, if you get stuck on a gift, I’m pretty damn good at comin up with ideas.”

“Thank you.” Indrid smiles, excited, and that settles it: Duck is asking for his number after this.

They brave the crowds and the holiday cheer blaring across the speakers once more. The first stop is a store selling housewares, including a pair of small succulents that Indrid deems worthy of giving a friend as he listens to Duck talk about his part time job at the National Forest, laughing when Duck mentions last weeks run-in with a pissed-off migratory bird. 

The next few stores are no help, and they opt to take advantage of the lull between when people are done with school and when people are done with work to hit up the coffeeshop, Indrid ordering a white chocolate peppermint mocha and promptly getting whipped cream on his nose. Duck is tempted to kiss it off, settles for handing his new friend a napkin while he talks about his recent return to Kepler after traveling around the country in a Winnebago, selling his art at shows. As luck would have it, the store has a shelf devoted to artisan or local coffees, and they’re each able to find one for someone on their list. 

Macy's proves more treacherous, and once five o’ clock hits even Duck is feeling cramped. Indrid is tensing, his replies getting short or far off, and just as Duck is about to offer to dip out again, chilly fingers link with his own.

“Is this alright?”

“Better than alright.” He grins and Indrid holds tighter, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth as Duck guides them into a less crowded corner. The do eventually find some high quality hiking socks that Indrid buys, only letting go of Duck in order to pay. 

They reward themselves with dinner at Johnny Rocket, Duck hopping over to Indrid’s side of the booth to see pictures of Emperor and Luna, and show off the photos he has of Pinecone hiding under his ranger jacket. 

“One more stop, thank goodness.” It’s going on seven and Duck has to say he agrees; he loves being around Indrid, but his feet are killing him and he’s had “Jingle Bells” stuck in his head for an hour. 

Indrid’s last item is at Crate and Barrel, and Duck laughs when the other man goes straight to the aprons. 

“You got good taste, I’m gettin’ one of these too. Barclay said he needed a new one.”

A fine-boned hand freezes mid-reach, “Did you say Barclay?”

“Yeah?”

“I am also buying this for a Barclay. Is your Barclay, by chance, dating someone named Joseph and hosting a party tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

They stare at each other, frozen long enough that another shopper passes between them. Then they double over in sync, Duck wheezing out a laugh while Indrid cackles. 

“Holy shit, we’ve been shoppin for the same folks!”

“Barclay mentioned there’d be new people at the party but I never thought one of them would be such a catch.”

Duck gets his breathing in order, steps across the faux-hardwood and takes Indrid’s hand.

“Hey, Indrid? You wanna be my date to the party tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

“....wait, fuck, which one of us is gonna give him the apron?”

“You can, I have another idea for him. Consider it an early present from me.” Indrid tease. 

“Sugar,” Duck slips his hands into Indrid’s back pockets, smiling up at him, “you might just be all the present I need.”

[glumpiglet]

Beetlejuice meeting his S/O and shes a ghost?

Hi..Thank you for the request.. I had a lot of fun with this one.. It really got away from me lol I hope you like it <3 to those who requested I havent forgotten about you, it’s just easier for me to write on the weekend when I’m not working. K love you guys

Warning: bit of swearing.. basic beej innuendos... thats it.

If you had known that when you woke up that Wednesday, it would have been your last day alive, you probably would have done so not hungover. Stumbling out of bed, sheets still clutching at your legs, you swore at the morning sun shining once again for the high, wide windows in all the bedrooms. It was on the list to replace the sheer curtains, but fabric that long was hard to find and not cheap to buy.

When Great Aunt Gerdy left you her house, the only wish she had was to ‘preserve, protect, and breath life back into Windflew Manor.’

Sweet, naive Gertrude. Spun of sugar more than flesh, your great aunt had been the youngest of twelve and definitely your favourite family member. Growing up, you fondly remembered spending summers here, riding your bike through the halls on rainy days, playing ‘Pirates and Rogues’ in the backyard with Gerdy and her children.

When you got older you begged to still come to the Manor; Gertrude watched you grow and in her own mind, Auntie Gerdy had assumed you would follow the steps of the women in your family, hunker down with a fine man, pop out some kids every few years.

As you said, Gertrude was tragically naive. Never had the heart to ever tell her the truth. That marriage….Children? Had never even entered the equations of goals. You wanted a spontaneous, fun life full of breakable things. Adventure. 

But also it was known that if you didn’t take this house, it would have gone to an auction. It broke your heart the way her children acted, their mother was one of the greatest women you had ever met, a role model. It was what she wanted. You couldn’t do that to Aunt Gerdy. So with hesitant determination, you had set about restoring Windflew Manor.

Due to funds, you were forced to do most of the work, getting help for a few handier friends. But it had been coming along nicely, room by room the cobwebs and mold were disappearing. It was satisfying work.  

Resting your head against the shower wall, however, you didn’t think you could find the strength to tackle the gardens today. It was all your friend's fault, ‘one more drink (Y/N), we’ve worked so hard!’ 

Exiting the shower, wiping the fog from the mirror, you reflected on how tired the image looked as you moisturized, changing into comfy shorts and a tank top without bothering to properly dry yourself. It was a warm day and you liked the cool moisture mixed with the lotion slicking your skin.

Just as you began brushing your teeth, the doorbell rang multiple times. Who the hell was that this early in the morning? The sound came again, more insistent and you had to roll your eyes.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your horses..” Sprinting down the hallway, trying to steady on the banister, you felt the gravity shift as your feet slid across the hardwood.

You supposed everyone would lament your damned clumsiness, your carelessness. Imprinted on the skin, you held the reminders of how prone to accidents you had been. It had been a joke in the family for years. ‘(Y/N) is gonna kill herself one day!’ 

It was only a matter of time. 

Swing your hand wildly, nothing could be gripped as you felt yourself swinging forward, hurdling towards the twenty-six flight of stairs that as a child, never it was considered it would have spelled your end….  

**

Turns out, it had been nothing more than a neighbor, wanting to let you know the street sweepers would be out tomorrow. 

Life was funny that way. 

Watching in dull horror as the EMT’s took your body away, trying to process the following information.. It came to you so obviously even though it sounded crazy: You weren’t having some out of body experience… You hadn’t taken any hallucinogenic drugs lately.. You were dead. 

Thinking about what the afterlife would have been: Heaven, Hell, Purgatory…. Haunting Auntie’s empty house had not been on the top of the list. 

Time was meaningless now, you could look at the grandfather clock and see two p.m and look five minutes later and see eleven a.m. it was always cold. You cursed not wearing something warmer than your p.j’s that last morning, not that you thought it would have helped. 

Going outside had been a big no-no. Whatever fucked up colossal worm creature had been out there when you tried the one time to leave, was obviously meant to be keeping you here. So here you stayed.

It could have been only a day you spent dead and lonely in the house. Or a week. A month. Years. You were being a little dramatic, you knew it hadn’t been years. Friends and family came by, grieving openly, making your heartbreak; and removing all your items, which was even worse. Obviously to be sold off or stored in your old room. A time capsule.

On one of the many days that found you aimlessly wandering the halls, a book fell before you without pretense. Equal parts startled and puzzled, well as much as a ghost could be, you picked it up.  

‘Handbook for the Recently Deceased..’

Gripping the pages, intent to open, you were halted as your front door swung open. A dozen or so handsome, young men carrying multiple packed things burst into Aunt Gerdy’s foyer, laughing and chatting loudly.  

“Aw, dude this place is awesome!”

“Look at all the space!”

“Get that pong table over there!”

“What the fuck!?”

Stomping forward, you were about to raise your voice louder before you stopped yourself….Right, stupid... They couldn’t see you… The whole ‘being dead thing’.

Watching in impotent rage as they slammed their things on the hardwood floor, scuffing their sneakers on the expensive carpets you had saved every penny for…

This was not good. Not good at all.

**

You had been right.

It wasn’t hard to not like these kids. You weren’t really into the whole ‘boys would be boys’ excuse for male idiocy in their youths. 

You didn’t like the way they treated each other, the archaic ‘hazing’ they would often do leaving you feeling ill. You didn’t like the way they treated the girls they used and laughed as they were forced down the traditional ‘walk of shame’ making you furious.

You especially did not like the way they treated the Manor. It was terrible, gaudy streamers and tacky posters were pinned to the walls. Daily parties...Keggers…. Were held here, the place was a war zone. Litter and garbage cluttered every hall and you were beginning to tear your hair out in helplessness. 

They had turned your Aunt’s treasured home and your hardworking project into a frat house. It was just rude.

What were you gonna do? Time passed and you watched as the house grew further and further into decay when a lightbulb burst unexpectedly. 

Realizing your answer, you hoped the discarded handbook was still where you had dropped it. Returning to the living room, you sighed in relief at seeing the odd-looking text where you left it. Walking up to it, however, you noticed something there that wasn’t there before. 

A card, dusty, and sticking out of a random page. Bending down you began pulling at it, fingering the worn edges. You lifted it up into the light, trying to read it under all the dirt caked on. On the card, it just said one word three times, strangely compelled you said it out loud.

“Betelgeuse… Betelgeuse…. Betelgeuse?”

The burst of smoke made you hack instantly, it was like someone smoked weed in an embalming room, pungent and eye-watering. 

It was a man. Well, no. Not a human man in any case. Duh. You would say this was the weirdest thing to ever happen to you, but nothing was normal after you died apparently.

Observing as he waved his hands, stepping out of the cloud, you couldn’t help the widening of your eyes...He was.. Definitely interesting looking.. 

“Geez, did I come late to the party or what-… Woah.”  

He looked awful and smelt even worse, and why the hell was he here?

The… Character that stepped had gone silent. Awkward and stilted, you struggled to speak. It couldn’t help being noticed his... Hair was changing colour… Most certainly going from an almost neon green to baby pink…. What was he? 

“Don’t be afraid. You’re dead. I am also dead.” There was a moment before an incredulous giggle escaped your lips, you couldn’t help but realize it had been the first time you laughed since.. Well..

“Yeah, I figured that. From... You know… Seeing my dead body get taken away.” The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the silence deafening. 

Before he pounced. Flouncing over in a comical manner, he began to circle you, the humour disappearing from you at the look in his eye. 

“Huh, that line usually doesn’t work.. You’re surprisingly calm..” Turning your head until you couldn’t anymore, you swiveled striving for eye contact. He completed his journey around and stood in front of you, seeming to be searching for something. Before he held his grimey hand out…. The intense desire to hesitate held you still. 

It didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest.

“Hello! A pleasure to meetcha-” Leaning forward, you realized in just enough time what he was doing before he could press his lips to yours, jumping back. 

“Uh, excuse me!?” 

“Can’t blame a demon for trying, babes. Anyways uh… What can I do for you?” He fidgeted with his jacket, pulling at the cuffs and flapping the lapels, wafting his stench towards you making you gag. Covering your nose you murmured beyond belief.

“What do you mean?”

“Well usually I only get called when someone needs something from me….. Bio-exorcism. Homicide. Sexual pleasure. I do it all.” This guy couldn’t actually be serious… You shook your head, none of this was helping. You had gone to the book for an answer and had only gotten even more questions. 

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about dude, I just found this card in this book. Anyways, what is happening right now? Who are you and why can you see me?”

Snickering, he continued to very eagerly invade your personal space and it was getting harder to find the space in the living room. The predator was cornering.

“You said my name, sexy. You called me.” 

What kind of name was Betelgeuse? Deciding immediately to shorten it for ease, you opened your mouth but apparently, he was on a roll, and continued. 

“And I already told you.. We’re dead. Deceased. Post Mortem.” Bumping into the wall, just hearing the words from someone else’s lips made you stop… Well, dead. Pun intended. Before they could be halted tears were gathering in your eyes… You weren’t even that emotional about it anymore, had already spent endless nights sobbing about what-ifs and regrets...Not for a while, still, it never got any easier to think about. 

Trying and failing miserably to hide the sniffles, you peered at BJ’s surprised expression. 

“Shit...shit..shit. I didn’t mean to do that…. Don’t cry,” Wiping at stubborn tears that fell against your wishes, you could see BJ shuffle his feet, looking extremely uncomfortable at your sudden breakdown. You tried to calm him, ironically.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just… Not been that great so far... Sometimes I think I might be in hell.” Staring at the ground, you had the overwhelming wish once again for it to finally swallow you whole and take you where you belonged.

“Is it… Your current occupants?”

“It certainly doesn’t help.” Looking up at BJ’s tilted head and rapt expression, the need to confide was making you continue.

“My Aunt left me this house and… I’ve hated seeing what they're doing to it.” BJ looked to be contemplating something before he spoke.

“I could help you.”

You looked at him “What do you mean?”

“I told you.. Again... Sweetheart, you’re smokin’ hot but your memory’s shit. I’m a Bio-exorcist. Getting breathers out is my forte. Well, most breathers can’t see me… But I can teach you! Breathers are waay more likely to see a ghost than a demon.” Riveted by what he was saying, you didn’t realize his pursuit until you felt his grip sound your waist, pulling you closer.

“Mmm… Get you in a little school uniform.. Give you extra credit...” Blatantly ignoring him, focusing on the important part of what he said. 

“What you’re saying is we can get these kids out of here?”

“Of course babes. I take my job very seriously.” Shooting him an incredulous look, you managed to extract from him without much ease, he was really touchy for someone you just met.

“Yeah, I noticed…”

This was insanity. You weren’t actually considering letting this.. Demon?! To teach you how to scare the young men living in your house. It was dangerous and crazy.

Even more, there was no other option. Desperate times.

“Then you’re hired,”

“Oh, this is gonna be so good!” Once again having to duck away from his advance, you pressed a hand to the dirty front of his suit, holding him at bay.

“Stop that,”

“Hmm... Playing hard to get, I respect that.”

Maybe this wasn’t a great idea.

**

In hindsight, it worked out perfectly. Beej, as he had assured, was very good at his job. Just because that job entailed scaring the shit out of anyone and anything around him shouldn’t be held against him. 

Once again, incredulously if you had known in your life that your love of horror movies would have come in handy in your afterlife, you would have paid much more attention.  

Beej was impressed with your novice skill. The voice throwing came naturally to you, and your favourite trick was hiding in the corner of one of their bedrooms, positioning your arms and legs at odd angles and whispering to the sleeping boys, stifling giggles as they awoke, petrified and flew downstairs, waking everyone else in the house.

None of them could actually see you, but you had sworn the one redheaded one had locked eyes in the bathroom mirror, the two of you paused before the urge to scare rapidly left and the need to leave arose. Walking out the bathroom his eyes had definitely followed. 

He never told his friends about it, but BJ had said he watched him lay awake more than one night, clutching his sheets a little too tight. 

Possession was something you felt was unnecessary. Beej had often offered to uh.. Show you how it worked but the thought of BJ well.. Inside of you… It made your skin crawl and you didn’t know if it was from repulsion or excitement.

BJ was.. Unexpected in the best way. Devilishly Intelligent. Hilarious and.. You saw glimpses of his sweetness. He bashfully gave you dead flowers from the garden and was constantly sending you praises that would make you blush if you still had blood. How beautiful you were, how great of a scarer you were…. After getting over the whole stink thing, he was really cute and you might have been... Falling for him. Just the thought made you terrified. 

It all came to an end gradually. It was unexpected, you thought it would have been some big final fright, using all of your cunning ghostly powers. But no, one by one they just disappeared. Claiming to be moving back with family, dropping out, or simply leaving for ‘reasons’.

On the day you stood in the kitchen, now empty save for a few left behind appliances, the beaming smile sent to BJ couldn’t be contained.

“We did it.”

“You did it, babes. I was uh- Just along for the ride, I guess.”

Shifting closer to him, you saw with amusement Beej staring at your lips. The BJ of before would have taken your closeness as an immediate seduction, trying his luck. Now the fact he was trying to control himself, made your heart swell. 

The moment was broken by the sound of the front door opening, you held your breath to see who, or what entered.

A beautiful couple entered, followed by an obvious real estate agent, discussing the house. The couple seemed too good to be true, polite, and awed at the house. Seeing the little bundle of a baby tucked in the mother’s arm as they continued their inspection. You supposed in a way Aunt Gertrude had gotten her wish. And that could be enough.

You turned to Beej watching the scene with an odd countenance.   

“Thank you BJ, really. I’ve had a lot of fun.” You finally noticed. There was purple in his hair, something was making him sad.

“Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?” 

Oh. oh.

Struggling to answer him, you watched as he further sank in himself. “I read the book, BJ..The Netherworld… Shouldn’t I be…”

“Not yet! Once you get there… We won’t be able to see each other this much... Haven’t we been having fun?” 

“Of course but-”

“Don’t leave!” His voice was frantic, higher-pitched than you ever heard, you couldn’t find the words to calm him.

“Please! I’ll… I’ve been looking into something…” The moment took the oddest turn when Beej practically flew to his knees, reaching out to you to clasp your hands between his before clearly speaking two words you never imagined him saying.

“Marry me.”

The words shocked you. Scandalized, you said the one thing you could.

“Beetlejuice!” That wasn’t it, the look on his face broke you. It was pitiful, desperate.

“No nonono say something else babes, let me explain!” You reached out, stroking his stubble as his giant, golden eyes glittered at you with so many emotions swirling.

“I’m not gonna send you away Beej, stop please.” Taking deep breaths between you, the urge to sink to the floor with him ran over you. Somewhere in your mind you realized how stupid this was, two ghosts having a panic attack in the kitchen, but weirder things have happened.

“If I… Marry a breather. I get brought to life. So I’ve been thinking..” Beej was asking to marry you.. Could ghosts and demons even get married? Would you have a wedding? Invite other ghosts to the ceremony?

“I don’t know BJ… We don’t even know if it will work,” You hadn’t said ‘no’ yet. At the moment, you couldn’t find the desire to do so. You liked Beej, it was the little things in death you realized that mattered. 

“What have we got to lose?.. I thought..”

Looking at him, on the floor with you. Overwhelmed with affection, you leaned forward, noting with glee Beej’s astonishment. Kissing the ghost with the most was... Everything and nothing what you expected. His tasted like cigarettes and dirt, still you leaned into him more.

The one thing that could make death totally rad. Being with him. He was absolutely right. Pulling away, looking at his blissed out face, eyes staying closed, you gave him your answer. 

“Yes. Okay. I’ll marry you.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I’m learning to drive and the anxiety it gives me should be illegal why can’t we just apparate -Danny

Words: 2,883

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Already Gone’ -by Sleeping At Last

Chapter Eighteen: Inside His Mind.

"Not that I'm complaining," She heard Fred's voice from where she was, her arms tightly wrapped around his middle. "But I thought you wanted to be discrete?"

"This is just a hug," Mel murmured. "I'm sad."

"I see that," Fred was reading through the list of materials for his new products. "You shouldn't be sad though, you got a place in the team, didn't you? We're hoping you'll make us proud, Ginny as well."

"Thank you," She said. "But that's not what worries me right now. I just heard that Flint's Grandad... he's gone."

Fred stopped reading.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he'd been ill for a while... Erick looked terrible."

"Well, that's how you look after you lose someone."

"I acted like an idiot," She groaned. "I just stood there..."

"For the best, if I'm honest," He continued. "Some people don't react well to hugs when they're in shock. What if someone had walked in on you hugging a Slytherin? That's bad for everyone involved."

"I'm her friend, to hell with the gossip..."

"I wasn't talking about the gossip," The boy replied. "He's been helping us a great deal by keeping the prefects of his house away from the D.A. I'm really sorry about his Grandad, he helped us to get a great deal for a little flat on Diagon Alley, but we have to be careful; if someone sees him acting too friendly with any of us that wouldn't help him, would it?"

"I guess not," Mel propped herself up and away from his chest. "I still think I could've done more."

Fred gave her a serious look.

"Your schedule is full all the time, you barely have time to sit and sulk on me!"

"That sounds terrible," Mel blushed.

"Well it's true, you only come to your dear boy-friend," He smirked, knowing how flustered Mel got, "to complain about how hard life is. I don't mind being a shoulder to cry on, but maybe you could compensate afterwards?"

"How?"

His smile widened.

"Get out," Mel slipped away from his grip, crossing her arms. "Leave before I hex you."

"Oh, c'mon!" Fred laughed. "Not even a good night kiss?"

"Fred!"

He laughed louder, standing up and lifting his hands in surrender, his notebook under one arm.

"Fine," He sighed. "I'm just saying, you'll miss me during the next weeks, you'll be all alone in Grimmauld Place and I'll be at the burrow..."

"I've created a monster," Mel groaned, feeling her face burning.

Twenty minutes later she was finishing her History of Magic essay, her eyes slowly giving up in the dim firelight. Ron was laying across the rug and Hermione was next to her, writing the longest letter ever to Krum. Harry was nowhere to be seen, but she didn't worry about it, if he were in danger she'd be able to feel it.

He came back eventually and sat down quietly in front of the girls.

"What kept you?" Ron asked.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione glanced at him, noticing his silence.

He didn't answer, Mel lifted her gaze. Harry was pale.

"What's up?" Ron insisted, leaning on his elbow. "What's happened?"

Harry shook his head slightly, opened his mouth, then closed it again. He glanced at Mel nervously, and she was surprised when he immediately darted his eyes away, his hands closing into fists to avoid shaking.

"Is it Cho?" Hermione asked knowingly. "Did she corner you after the meeting?"

Mel had noticed the Ravenclaw staying behind, staring at Cedric's picture, but she didn't think much of it because her mind was already swirling, too busy to focus on the girl Harry had a crush on.

Ron let out a silly giggle.

"So — er — what did she want?" The boy asked.

"She —" Harry started, but when his eyes found Mel's again his voice faltered and he had to stop to clear his throat. "She — er —"

"Did you kiss?" asked Hermione bluntly, trying to finish with it as fast as possible for the sake of her friends' sanity.

Ron sat up and accidentally pushed his ink making a mess on the rug. None of them moved to fix it.

"Well?"

Those ten seconds felt like a lifetime. Harry stared at Ron, then at Hermione. When he gathered the courage to look at her, he frowned slightly, a short and silent nod making its way out.

"HA!"

Three second-years that were sitting near them jumped. Ron's laughter filled the room and for the first time in her life, Mel didn't follow. Harry was waiting for her reaction, which was weird considering she'd hidden away when Harry found out she'd kissed Fred. Didn't he know it was awful to ask for her opinion?

They had spent months in blissful secrecy, escaping to secluded places and holding hands, he couldn't lie to himself saying he'd never felt something for her. Yet he was, and she was doing the same thing. This whole thing felt like a joke, but she had to be fair and give him the same freedom he'd given her, no dirty looks, no insults.

Harry had every right to be with someone when they hadn't worked out. Even if she was bitter, at the end of the day she wasn't planning on giving up whatever she had with Fred, and who knew? Maybe Cho would be a better match for Harry.

"Glad to see she finally worked up the courage," Mel said lowly. "You should've seen the way she would stare at you during every meeting..."

Harry was too transparent when it came to his emotions, and at that moment, a little smile crept up his face as he looked down, clearly pleased.

"Well? How was it?" Ron's laughing fit finally stopped, and now he was looking at his best friend with eager eyes.

Harry's smile faltered and he frowned.

"Wet," He replied shortly.

Ron made a noise between a snort and a groan, Mel looked at Harry with mild confusion. Surely he had a better way to describe a kiss than just 'wet'?

"Because she was crying," Harry explained further.

"Oh," Ron said, then his face filled with pity. "Are you that bad at kissing?"

"Dunno," His expression changed, panicking. "Maybe I am..."

"No, you're not!" Mel blurted out.

"How do you know?" Ron asked her, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Because Cho spends half her time crying these days," said Hermione, saving her without noticing. "She does it at mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place."

"You'd think a bit of kissing would cheer her up," Ron joked.

"Ron," Hermione straightened in her place and took a deep breath, "you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet."

Mel snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean? What sort of person cries while someone's kissing them?" Ron argued.

"Yeah," said Harry, still worried. "Who does?"

Hermione looked at the boys with a sad little expression; then she looked at Mel waiting for her to say something. Mel merely shrugged.

"Don't you understand how Cho's feeling at the moment?" Hermione asked softly.

"No," said the boys.

Mel rolled her eyes. Hermione, who couldn't help herself, started to explain everything.

"Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings toward Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly."

"I can relate to that," Mel sighed. "Minus the flying, I mean, I managed to get in the team after all—" Hermione hushed her.

"How can you relate to that?" Ron asked in disbelief. "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode!"

"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione sharply.

"That explains why you haven't been kissed, Ronnie," Mel teased.

"You've kissed my brother once, you can't talk!"

Mel had to bite her tongue so she wouldn't say she'd kissed someone else apart from Fred Weasley.

"She was the one who started it!" Harry exclaimed over their bickering. "I wouldn't've — she just sort of came at me — and next thing she's crying all over me — I didn't know what to do —"

"Don't blame you, mate," said Ron, shivers running up his spine.

"You just had to be nice to her," said Hermione, then she stopped writing once more and looked up. "You were, weren't you?"

"Well... I sort of — patted her on the back a bit."

"Dear Merlin..." Mel ran a hand over her face in embarrassment. "Why are you like this?"

"Well, I suppose it could have been worse," Hermione said with contained annoyance. "Are you going to see her again?"

"I'll have to, won't I? We've got D.A. meetings, haven't we?"

"You know what I mean."

Harry's face was a bunch of mixed emotions, she wondered if Ron was seeing what she was seeing, then maybe he'd be able to believe one could possibly feel many things at once.

"Oh well," said Hermione simply, "you'll have plenty of opportunities to ask her..."

"What if he doesn't want to ask her?" Ron said bravely.

"Don't be silly! Harry likes her, don't you, Harry?"

The boy glanced at Mel again and she pretended to be busy putting all her stuff inside her bag.

"Who're you writing the novel to anyway?" Ron asked, saving Harry the trouble of admitting something that could damage their thin bond even further.

"Viktor."

"Krum?"

"How many other Viktors do we know?"

Mel sat there in silence, a mix of second-hand embarrassment for Harry and something like a sharp, little sting in her chest that she was sure had to do with him as well. She thought about Erick and wondered if it was a good idea to plan a meeting for the next day so they could talk about all the things that were happening in such a short amount of time.

"Well, 'night," said Hermione as she finally finished her letter to Krum. "You're coming, Mel?"

"Yeah," She stood up.

Harry got up abruptly as well, Mel froze in place and stared at him.

"What?" She asked.

In the end, he picked up his own bag and nudged Ron's leg.

"Nothing— We're going too, right Ron?"

"Yup!" Ron stood up, his bag already on his shoulder.

"Okay..." Mel said, still feeling slightly uneasy about his behaviour. "See you..."

When it was just the two girls in the room, Hermione sneaked her way into her bed and sat down.

"I think it was nice of you to be kind to Harry, he was quite upset."

"It's not really my place to be rude, is it? I'm with Fred now... sort of."

"Yes, you are," Hermione said in a tone that sounded like she could tell Mel was having doubts. "And you're happy with him. There's no need to overthink it now."

"No," Mel sighed. "I feel bad for him though, their kiss wasn't ideal."

"Well, your first kiss wasn't perfect either," Hermione shrugged. "You simply threw yourself at Fred in front of everyone while he was in a temper..."

Mel's cheeks felt warm. She wanted to reply with 'That wasn't my first kiss.' But that would only provide a context Hermione did not need to know.

The girl laid on her bed and against her own will, thought about the very first night Harry had kissed her. Back then he looked like he knew what he was doing, but she couldn't blame him. Mel wasn't crying when they'd kissed. She was beaming with joy. For only a second, she felt happy that Harry could count that as his first.

Then a bitter voice that would come to her more often than not came to interrupt her thoughts.

'Well, he could've had more of those if only he hadn't tried to play the hero with you. He deserved that! He can't take you back whenever he pleases...'

No, he can't, Mel agreed.

At some point after falling asleep, Mel started to have a very strange dream. She felt her body on the bed, but the setting was slightly different, the light was coming from the wrong side of the room and she was wearing a different set of pyjamas.

A sharp pain shot up her forearm and cracked open her skull, or at least, that's how it felt. She let out a sharp cry, sitting up abruptly. When she opened her eyes she realized she was back on her bed, not only that, but she finally knew why the one in her dream had looked slightly different. It was the boys' room.

She got up, sweating profusely and feeling nausea. Luckily for her, her scream hadn't woken up her roommates, and she could leave the room without them noticing. When she reached the stairs she ran into Neville, who was looking really pale.

"Mel!" His eyes widened in relief. "You heard him? He's really ill..."

"What happened?"

"He–He woke up screaming and threw up..."

"Go get McGonagall," She urged him. "I'll take care in the meantime, go!"

Neville nodded and left, she walked into the room and the boys turned to look at her. Dean moved away so she could get to Harry.

"Harry, mate," Ron was saying, "you... you were just dreaming..."

"No!" He cleaned his face hastily, there was vomit on the floor, next to his bed. "It wasn't a dream... not an ordinary dream... I was there, I saw it... I did it..."

"He's talking nonsense since he woke up," Seamus told her. "He's saying Ron's dad was attacked."

Mel felt something cold run down her back. Harry gawked again and Ron jumped.

"Harry, you're not well," He said. "Neville's gone for help..."

"I'm fine!" Harry coughed, shaking uncontrollably. "There's nothing wrong with me, it's your dad you've got to worry about — we need to find out where he is — he's bleeding like mad — I was — it was a huge snake..."

"Move over," Mel said in a determined voice.

Ron hadn't noticed her until she spoke, he seemed relieved to have her there.

"Harry," She supported one leg on the mattress, trying not to step on the vomit. "What happened?"

"You have to believe me," He said hoarsely. "I swear it wasn't a dream— We have to—"

"I believe you," She said. "I can feel it, remember?"

Harry blinked, a worried expression on his face.

"Yes... I remember..."

"Good," She held his face firmly and stared into his eyes. "Now, show me what you saw."

"What?"

"Think about your dream," She explained. "I'll see it."

She wasn't an expert at Legilimancy yet, but now was the perfect time to make use of her hours studying the subject. Wouldn't hurt to try...

Harry nodded and stared back at her, his frown deepening as he tried to recall every little detail.

It was the strangest sensation, getting pulled into someone else's thoughts. She saw the dark hall, Mr Weasley's body covered in blood in a place that looked slightly familiar. The weirdest part of all was that Harry had seen it from the creature's point of view— What did he say it was? A snake..?

Mel blinked, stumbling away from Harry and feeling Dean and Seamus holding her so she wouldn't fall.

"Merlin, that was hard..."

"What did you do?"

"I saw... I read his mind," She said dryly.

"You what?"

"Don't go around telling this to other people!" She warned them. "I mean it, this is a secret!"

"Fine!" Ron exclaimed. "But what did you see?"

Before she could reply, Neville and McGonagall entered the room.

"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?"

"It's Ron's dad," Harry sat up again. "He's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen. Mel saw it!"

"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" Professor McGonagall frowned. "What do you mean Mel saw it?"

"I don't know... I was asleep and then I was there..."

"You mean you dreamed this?"

"No! I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid... and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it, Mr Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is..."

"It's true," Mel added hurriedly. "It woke me up—  You... you know what that means, right?"

"I'm not lying, and I'm not mad!" Harry insisted. "I tell you, I saw it happen! Mel did something a second ago, she saw my thoughts!"

"I believe you, children," said Professor McGonagall. "Put on your dressing-gown, both of you. We're going to see the headmaster."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs

[sweetiejunie]

Confessions

Summary: They both have their own confessions. Beomgyu had secrets. Yeonjun thought he was over you. But was he really?

Genre: fluff, angst

Beomgyu x reader, Yeonjun x reader (decoupling)

—.*•—

A/n: a short oneshot i wrote inspired by my favourite ep of HIMYM

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You loved yeonjun, you really did. And he loved you. But were you in love? No.

That ship sank a while ago, but you had remained good friends with him and the other boys. You both figured it would be too much of a waste to completely throw away everything you had. And you still enjoyed the others company, who was he to take that away from you. At the start, it was hard. But as time went on, things fell back into place. You had to admit, it was a bittersweet feeling but you were glad you didn’t completely lose him. He was still one of your best friends. Everything went back to how it was before you started dating. Well, almost everything.

When the other boys found out you had broken up, they were devastated, of course. To them you and yeonjun had always been their one true pairing, their OTP, soulmates. The couple they were rooting for to get married. And when you broke up, they were shocked and they were also there to help you through it. Especially beomgyu, he had made it his job to visit you everyday until you were better. Bringing you all kinds of sweets or food that would make you happy. Or bringing you out on fun adventures so you had an excuse to get out of bed when you had spent the whole day crying. All that was just supposed to last for a little while, until you got back on your feet. But even after everything seemed back to normal, beomgyu still found himself at your doorstep whenever he had the chance.

Beomgyu didn’t want to say it, but while he was busy bringing you ice cream and chocolates everyday to cheer you up, he started catching feelings. He loved making you laugh when he saw tears prick your eyes. He loved the way you smiled at his jokes and how they made you feel better. He loved spending time with you, watching whatever movie you wanted and listening to any song you played. At first, he thought he was just being nice, looking out for a friend that was broken. Time went by, and all the more he realised just how much he dreaded the days he couldn’t visit you or the days you didn’t reply to his texts. He realised what he felt was something more than what he felt for a friend. But he couldn’t like you. You were his friend’s ex. He couldn’t break the bro-code.

As the days continued, so did his visits. And everyday, he just felt himself falling deeper and deeper into that hole. But he couldn’t stop himself. Everyday, he saw you smiling when you opened the door for him, a smile that made his heart jump out of his chest. He wanted to grab your hands and hold you close. To call the days you went out together ‘dates’ instead of just friendly hangouts. He wanted to take you on late night drives to the most romantic places he could think of, and have you fall asleep in his arms.

He had fallen fast, and he had fallen hard. He thought he could get over you, to simply forget his feelings existed. But that proved to be much easier said than done. He tried cutting down on the days he saw you, using excuses like he was too busy, or he was too exhausted after practice. It killed him to lie to you. And seeing the sweet responses you gave him to ‘rest well’ and to ‘take care of himself’ wasn’t helping.

Beomgyu couldn’t take it. It’s been months and he felt guilty for hiding his feelings. He knew it was wrong for him fall in love you, but he couldn’t control his emotions. And it was eating him alive. He had to tell someone. And that day after their practice, he decided to tell yeonjun the truth. It was make or break it, but he had to get it out.

He found yeonjun on the couch, using his phone just scrolling through his feed. Beomgyu had gone through what he wanted to say in his head a thousand times, but nothing could prepare him for the real thing. He stood there for a while, looking over the corner at yeonjun, processing how to go about this.

“Stop staring, you look like a stalker,” yeonjun suddenly called out, causing the poor boy to get flustered.

“Hyung,” beomgyu said softly, walking closer to him.

“Beomgyu, something wrong?” Yeonjun asked, sensing something off about his younger’s demeanour.

“I uh, i need to talk to you.”

Yeonjun hummed a response, putting down his phone and turning to look at beomgyu, who stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, playing with the edge of his hoodie. He was nervous. Who wouldn’t be? He was about to tell his mate he had fallen head over heels for a girl he used to love.

“So er,” beomgyu started, “i dont know how to tell you this and i know it’s wrong of me to feel like this. But... i think i like y/n.”

There was silence, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. To beomgyu, it felt like it lastest an eternity. And he thought he was about to get punched as he studied yeonjun’s blank face, just staring at him.

“I- i just wanted to tell you cause i felt guilty. I know she’s your ex and all so if u dont feel comfortable with the idea of me being with her, I won’t do it! Ill get ride of my feelings, i promise! I just thought I should let you know-“

“Go for it,” yeonjun smiled, standing up to give beomgyu a pat on the back. “We broke up months ago. We’re just friends now, if you like her, I shouldn’t be the one stopping you. But you better treat her well.”

His words shocked beomgyu, but he was glad to have his blessing. It meant he was over you and beomgyu could feel at ease. He rushed over to your place and confessed everything.

And later that night, yeonjun got an extremely important text.

From beomgyu: Y/n and i are dating!!

.

.

.

In that moment, despite what he had said prior, he felt jealous, annoyed, frustrated. Whatever you want to call it. He tried to convince himself that he was happy for you. No, that he was over you, or so he thought. Seeing you with someone else just made him realised how much he was still actually in love with you.

He would never admit it but a part of him was hopping you would have said no, and send beomgyu home. He was supposed to be your friend, he was supposed to be happy his best friend was happy. He hadn’t noticed it, but when beomgyu returned home that night, yeonjun completely switched off, disregarding any attempts beomgyu made to start a conversation and locking himself in his room.

Yeonjun thought he was okay with you and beomgyu being together but as the days turned to weeks, yeonjun was starting to ignore beomgyu more, barely acknowledging him when he spoke. Yeonjun hated seeing you with him. He wanted you to be happy and he wanted beomgyu to be happy, but not be the reason for each others happiness.

The worse days were when you would surprise beomgyu at the dorm. You would greet them as per usual and run to hug beomgyu. That used to be him. The gifts you used to get for yeonjun, now you got for beomgyu. Your laugh that echoed from beomgyus room used to his favourite sound, but now was the bane of his existence.

The other boys noticed this, but didn’t dare say anything. Until one day, they drew the line. You had came over to the dorm and beomgyu decided to bring you out for a small ice cream date. The rest of them were on the couch in the living room, watching a movie before they saw the two of you giggling as you made your way out. The moment the door closed behind you, yeonjun scoffed.

“What’s up with you? You got a problem with ice cream now?” Kai chuckled.

“Nothing’s up. I just think y/n deserves more than a lame ice cream date. Sure, ice cream is nice and all. But let’s be real, ice cream sucks. Ice cream lies, they keep secrets, and when it comes down to it, they just end up hurting you,” yeonjun responded, his emotions taking over him when he continued. “I- i just can’t believe y/n is going through with the idea of going out wit- for, ice cream.”

The three boys listened attentively, shaking their heads. If it wasn’t obvious enough, yeonjun wasn’t talking about ice cream. They knew they had to put an end to this. It was getting out of hand.

“Okay hyung we have to talk. Room, now,” soobin announced.

“Nice try but no, it’s just going to be 5 minutes of you two sorting out his love life, followed by an hour of you playing mario kart. No way. Hyung, you, me, roof, right now,” standing up, taehyun pushed yeonjun towards the fire escape that had a staircase to the roof.

“But it’s January-“ yeonjun defended.

Ignoring him, taehyun continued pushing him out, “move.”

“Alright, we’re both freezing so cut the crap and just say it,” taehyun said the moment they were on the roof.

“Say what?”

“That you’re unhappy y/n and beomgyu are together!”

Yeonjun was in disbelief at his assumption, “what? No. I’m happy. I encouraged him to go after her.”

“Because you thought you were okay with letting her go! But now that she’s gone, it hurts.”

By that point, yeonjun had been hurt many times in his life. Past relationships, failed auditions, and the list goes on. But when he first saw that text message that you two were together, it hurt just like all the previous times, just times a million.

“No. I’m happy for them,” he argued again.

“Is all you’ll let yourself say out loud. Cause if you said how you actually felt, that would make you the worse person on this roof,” taehyun stated, arms wrapping around himself when a cool breeze past them. “So I’m going to give you an out.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Yeonjun mocked back.

“By saying something worse.”

“Like what?”

Taehyun hesitated, “sometimes, i wish I wasn’t here. Sometimes i wish i could just pack up a bag and leave in the middle of the night and not come back.”

Yeonjun listened as he spoke. The words echoing in his ears as he processed what taehyun meant by them. And as the moment of silence passed, yeonjun confessed.

“Y/n shouldn’t be with beomgyu. She should be with me.”

.

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Just something random, something short, something sad. Hope you liked it!

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