#with enemies to lovers it’s so easy and so common to just go from hatred to love almost like a switch

[bellewintersroe]

enemies to lovers headcanons with nix, winters, speirs and liebgott pls 🥺? (love ur writing btw)

thank you!!!!!! I love this request omfg hehehe and I’m so excited to write it, I hope this does your idea justice 🥰🥰

Easy Boys x Reader ~ Enemies to Lovers.

Ron Speirs:

I wrote something here but I accidentally deleted it and now I can’t remember but oh well. I think something along the lines of the fact he’s superrrr intimidating to you at first.

lets say you’re a pretty friendly person, you’d think he was super standoffish and maybe a bit arrogant? Idk it’s a weird take but let’s go with it.

anyway you don’t really talk, but when Ron starts to notice you more often (he always notices you the whole time) he can tell you don’t like him or something.

idk but one day when he’s just like oddly nice to you, like overly nice you suddenly feel bad and after months (or years) of avoiding the man you feel a pang of guilt.

he’d probs offer you some cigarettes or his coat or something whilst it’s raining in Germany.

the small gestures when Ron is finally relaxing towards the end of the war become more common and you decide you actually never hated him at all, you just completely misread him.

lets be honest you’re probs still intimidated asf by him, like the first time you two are walking alone just one on one it’s nerve wracking.

hes a lot more gentle? And soft spoken that you ever realised, like you’re just discussing something and you’re actually taken a back at how nice his voice is? That sounds odd, but then you look up to him and you kinda share a smile and that’s the exact moment when you can pin point the feelings between you both.

“you know I used to be scared of you.” You’d admit to him after a night of drinking in the eagles nest.

ron would just smile and legit just KISS YOU?!?

“uh did you mean to do that?”

“yeah…. Did you not… like it?”

you’re kissing again and suddenly the idea of somewhat disliking each other seems so stupid, Ron was there the whole time, yet only now did your relationship blossom into something so sweet and beautiful.

Joe Liebgott:

The most PERFECT example of enemies to lovers ever fr.

like you thing he’s smug and arrogant and he likes to tease you, like he says ur hot when your angry but then you snap back and he thinks ur a bitch and then the two of you avoid one another like the plague.

if you’re all sat in the same group you can guarantee he’ll throw some snarky comment your way and you’d hit one right back at him.

“Drop the attitude doll, just cos you’re hot.”

Backhanded compliments? Sometimes they’re kinda confusing but they’re reoccurring from entering Europe, it’s like Joe can’t actually be mean?

idk but you two will bicker and even when the feelings of hatred and despair begin to fizzle ever so slightly you still keep up to the image of disliking one another.

“I hate you.” But side eyes to watch the other persons response u know??

the thing is, you match each others personalities perfectly. Like you’re both feisty asf.

it’s one day that you’re a little downbeat and Joe decides he wants to make a snarky comment to you (to get your attention/ watch your reaction) that his heart legit drops out his asshole when he sees you cry.

like he actually make you cry. Fuck! It’s gone way too far and some of the boys are like; “oh way’da go, liebgott!”

He feels super, super bad, but just thinks you fully despise him now so he avoids apologising to you. In reality you’re more upset because something clicks that you don’t hate him, at all- so when he made a comment on a particularly rough day it bothers you in a different way than usual.

Has it clicked that the two of you like each other yet?? Idk idk.

anyway I can imagine one day Cobb makes some rude ass comment to you, and just as you’re about to open your mouth to spit something back at him, Liebgott interjects, feeling some form of anger like no other.

“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth, Cobb. Why don’t ya back the fuck off?”

it catches you both off guard like uhhhh- do you acknowledge that Liebgott just publicly defended you?? It shut Cobb up, so when Joe is satisfied and a little nervous with his work, he leaves.

idk I just feel like it would make you wanna chase after him and when you thank him he’s super relaxed and just… open?? Finally, there’s no facade that the two of you dislike each other, not remotely.

the conversations start up properly, like for some reason Joe would be nervous around you, he’d be so calm and speak so softly you’d tease him like is that the same person?!?

teasing each other like crazy becomes more of a playful/ flirtatious thing and neither of you can deny it.

“you know doll, maybe you never considered the fact you’ve actually been in love with me this whole time.”

“maybe I have.” “What??” “What?!”

let’s just say the feisty nature between the two of you is shifted into the bedroom… maybe all the tension of ‘hating’ one another paid off?

Lewis Nixon:

Honestly I’m struggling to think of scenarios for Lewis and Dick because they’re you’re superiors, like both of them are extremely respectful and professional men, I’m not quite sure how you’d end up becoming enemies?? For the sake of the fact it’s fiction, let’s just make something wild up.

so maybe bcs Lew is a big drinker and you’ve warned him time and time again to cut it out, you get so annoyed at him you just snap? Like you’re a little impatient with him, but he’s also not really giving you, the company nurse, but regard in return.

lewis would probs sign and roll his eyes and just walk away and it’s kinda awkward asf, and let’s say you’re shy, you just kinda avoid him like crazy.

so there’s more of a tension between the two of you, like you sigh every time you see him with an alcohol bottle, talking about his rich upbringing. Even tho Lew is extremely modest and doesn’t brag, maybe you just get the wrong end of the stick/ misunderstand? Idk people are complicated.

I feel like even tho it’s awkward you two would end up alone somehow? Like you’re stood waiting and you’re kinda forced to talk.

“Look I know you hate me and all-”

“I don't hate you, Captain Nixon.”

The interactions kinda pick up after he’s divorced, like you end up helping him with an injury he gained after a night of boozing. You don’t lecture him but you’re a lot more patient and understanding.

and uhhhh this does something to him. Like he’s confused, whys he feeling all these feelings towards a lady he’s barely interacted with?

oooo one day the tension between you guys would become too much and he’d kiss you and you’re both like wtfff- but it feels so good and so right so you just continue.

You two become masters of having a secret relationship and when the others find out it’s super unexpected and everybody’s a little baffled cos they figured the two of you hated one another??

It makes a good story to tell the grandkids, let me tell you that.

Dick Winters:

Ummmm this guy, yeah I’ve struggled to think of a scenario where he’d ever be anybody’s enemy (apart from the Germans obvs). But personally, he’s too respected, too calm and gentlemen like for you to be his enemy.

in this case maybe it’s more of a ‘we once had a thing but he stopped it and now I'm upset at him’.

like before you get serious, Dick has to stop the relationship because he knows it interferes with fraternising rules. Working together and being in a relationship would never ever ever work. The army forbids it.

it sucks and because he’s such a nice guy that sucks even more, like you can’t even look at him without wanting to cry, so you just completely blank him and try to push him away as far as humanely possible. Considering the circumstances you’re under, this isn’t very easy, nor is it very achievable.

dick always keeps an eye out for you, even though you don’t notice, he’s always asking others if you’re okay and if you’re taking care of yourself.

ofc there’s bigger things to worry about than your relationship ending, so the two of you would probably end up being completely professional with any interactions you have.

ouch it hurts both of you, but neither of you know it’s a mutual feeling? The longing for one another is so painful considering Dick thinks you hate his guts.

after the war is over and you leave the army, only then does Dick call you up one day and tells you everything.

like he wastes no time, trust me, and you’re in complete shock, because this man who became a total stranger to you is practically telling you he loves you?!??

ugh ofc you feel the same and the relationship back to lovers kinda begins to there.

But fr Dick Winters ending a relationship with you is legit your arc to become a villian- it’s no surprise you go a little crazy when he had to end things.

all you can say now is how glad you are things actually worked between you both, and be enthralled by the fact Dick practically waited for you the whole 3 years he knows you.

[avatarskywalker78]

2, 4, and 7!

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

I've always wanted to write Enemies to Friends to Lovers. Also some kind of injury trope - like I really want to get into the angst of a character being injured in the field, but I always shy away from actually doing so (partly because I'm not confident in actually writing injuries or injury recovery).

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Six! One of them is my Firefly fic featuring my OC, Astra Reynolds Shen (the Chinese surname is currently a placeholder until I do more research into Chinese surnames names, btw), Mal’s adoptive daughter (though officially she’s thought to be his bio kid for a number of reasons) and someone who’s become very good at hiding the true extent of her hatred for the Alliance after they firebombed her planet. She’s still sassy and outspoken and takes no shit, though, and has picked up a number of less than legal skills along the way.

Things become complicated when her dad shows up again because no one of Mal’s crew other than Zoe knew he even had a kid, and this turns out to be because for the last six years he thought she was dead - Shadow’s destruction obviously meant all the records were lost, and survivors weren’t easy to find mainly because they were trying not to be found, and Astra has been going by her mother’s surname for eleven years now, so when Mal couldn’t find any trace of her he natrually assumed the worst, that it was just another thing the war took from him. So it’s a huge adjustment to make when Astra (and her mother ) turn out to be alive - but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Robby was a child – his child – and all he’d wanted was a father who was there for him, who cared about him. Even his recent behaviour was just him showing that he was hurting, acting out because that was the only way he got attention from either of his parents these days and that wasn’t right.

This is from fight (for your family), and obviously a common theme throughout the Mini Rewrites was me metaphorically shaking Johnny Lawrence by the shoulders and yelling ‘step the fuck up for your kid!!!!!’ but this was honestly one of my favourite versions of that realisation because it happens fairly early on in S1 (as it should’ve), and because it leads to him making the speech to Shannon, so this small part is actually very important.

40 Questions for Fic Writers

[jemmo]

the eclipse ep 2 - the reprieve

i cannot tell you how much i absolutely love the moments in this ep where it’s like akk is considering and testing out his feelings for ayan. im talking mainly about the series of scenes from akk with ayan’s hoodie to when they’re in the bathroom together after feeding the dog, it’s the sweetest moment in the whole show so far, bc we actually get to see akk at ease around ayan. that’s so rare and so surprising, it makes me wonder what prompted this softness, but you can see it when he approaches the hoodie, when he picks it up and feels it in his hands, analyses it, smells it, you can see his brain ticking thinking “what is it about this boy that’s getting to me like this? what is that i can’t stop thinking about? what is it that’s making me confused?”. 

but it’s not like he even approaches those thoughts in a hostile way, it’s more genuine curiosity, you see it in how wide and wondering his eyes are, and even more in the expression he makes when ayan catches him, there’s no initial anger or annoyance to it, it’s wide-eyed and caught out, like he’s been snuck up on in a moment of innocence and vulnerability.

and then of course he puts on that anger, let’s the harshness to return to his voice and words, which just makes it even better when he’s confronted by ayan’s innocence and sweetness. he tries to insight an argument but there’s no argument here, just ayan doing something kind, and that face returns, the wide eyes, the genuine shock, bc oh fuck he’s not fighting, he’s just being cute. 

It’s the pin all over again, except this time he doesn’t run away, he lets himself slip into this rare moment of being relaxed and real and genuine. they feed the dog, they mess and joke with each other and at no point do either of them try to start something, they don’t get hostile, and notably they don’t bring up anything about the school or rules or morals, it’s them without all that exterior stuff that fuels their fight, without it there’s really nothing to fight about.

and then the bathroom. i adore this scene. like seriously, genuinely, with all my heart this scene is my favourite so far. ayan looking up and across at akk tentatively, almost as if he’s thinking “he’s being nice… why is he being nice?? what kind of move is he trying to make??”. 

but then akk looks back and again he’s so wide eyed, idk just something about how big and shining akk’s eyes are in these scenes, it makes it genuinely feel like he’s opening himself up to feeling something, giving it a chance. and he doesn’t even look away, doesn’t do that classic thing of being caught staring and avoiding it, he just openly stares for so long with so much boldness and curiosity.

and I don’t think ayan knew what to do with that, bc instead of taking the interaction somewhere else, he offers up something familiar to them, he tries to start an argument, comes at him with an argumentative tone, like saying “come on, let’s do what we always do”. it’s a chance for akk to back off, to explain away these subtle things he’s doing, this different way he’s acting, ayan gives him that out. 

but akk doesn’t take it. instead he considers ayan for a while, eyes flitting around but still not leaving him, and then he says “nothing”. if he wanted to start an argument, if what was on his mind was something hostile, he’d voice it, we know he has no problem doing that. so by saying nothing, it’s not just him for once backing down, not going in to attack mode, it’s almost giving away that he’s not here for that, not even thinking about that, this interaction is so removed from this back and forth fight they’ve had going on.

and that’s only made more clear when he says the dog is cute and then splashes him with water. that’s such an un-akk thing to do. we’ve maybe seen him have more fun when he’s in his dorm with his friends but we’re so used to seeing him straight laced and and controlled, considered, that this free smile, this silliness, this compliment, it’s so shocking, to us and to akk.

and that’s not even getting into the line about the dog, bc we all know what that means, us, akk and ayan. he compared ayan to a dog and then called the dog cute, it couldn’t be more obvious. what has my mind reeling is what was going through akk’s mind when he said that, was it spur of the moment, an impulse, was it considered, did he have to work up the courage to it. what made him 180 so much, feel so free and relaxed in himself and so bold and confident to say that, it’s insane, bc this isn’t some huge turning point, all their other interactions carry the same tone of tension and hostility, this doesn’t change anything, it’s almost like a reprieve, an oasis, some kind of aside, it’s so polar to all else and so interesting bc of that, bc you have to wonder why. akk and ayan’s interactions to me are very much dictated by how they’re both feeling coming into them, is akk partially frustrated, has he just spoke to a teacher or his friends about needing to crack down on rules, is ayan particularly focused on uncovering stuff about his uncle or equally are they just not in the mood to fight, they just wanna have some space and not have to deal with it. to me, this interaction is almost like they found each other in a rare moment where they both weren’t fixed on their goals or morals, where they were both off guard and more them than the things they represent, and that’s what gave us this moment, and that’s how all the external factors made it this isolated thing that didn’t continue after.

but then my final thing about this scene is the way ayan looks after akk leaves, bc you see the initial confusion, the way it goes from “wait he’s not fighting back??” to “wait did he just call me cute?” like did he understand wrong, did that just happen?? but it’s like as he accepts that it did happen, his mouth creeps up more and more into this smile, this grin, and that’s what I wanna know. 

I wanna know if this smile is one of those “this school is gonna be fun” smiles, where he’s kind of delighted that he’s affecting akk and making him act this way and getting to see this side of him, almost like the joy of actually being surprised by him. or is it a genuine “that was cute, I liked that” smile, bc how akk feels is already pretty obvious, it’s his ability to accept how he feels and let it out that is gonna be his set back and how he grows. ayan is different, bc he has no issue voicing things, he’s bold and in your face, he’s not holding himself back, the thing is we don’t know how he feels, we haven’t had a sign yet that tells if he does like akk too. all his flirting in ep 1 was always combative, and he dropped that vibe as soon as akk walked away from him, stopped smiling, cold reset to what he was thinking about before. he doesn’t do that here, mainly bc he wasn’t trying to get akk to get off his case, he wasn’t up to anything, and the fact that instead of one of them walking away and ending the interaction, the fact that ayan says “hey, wait”, he’s going after him. 

this is the kind of tiny, subtle storytelling I adore bc as I said, we don’t know how ayan feels, bc in a way he voices so much and puts on such a front with what he says that we almost can’t trust his words, there’s no knowing what’s true and what’s just to get a rise out of akk, to cover his truth, to get what he wants. so how do we get an impression of how he really feels? by how he acts. and when you look at their past interactions, through all of ep 1 and 2, the scene always ends when their interaction ends, either bc one of them walks away or bc they stop talking, we always see the conversation end. this is the only time we get any kind of allusion to an interaction continuing after the scene cuts, as well as the only time that one of them leaves and the other one pursues, tries to carry it on. and it says so much that it’s in this single scene where they don’t fight, that when it’s all dropped they seek to be around each other more, and that it’s ayan who is going after him. mr ‘mind your own business’ is trying to make this fun, relaxed interaction go on longer.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Good Girl - George Weasley

Title: Good Girl Pairing: George x female!slytherin!Reader Summary: George has been the reader’s enemy since their first year at Hogwarts together and now, in their final year the universe keeps throwing them together in ways that make the reader question why she ever hated George in the first place. Warnings: NSFW!! Slight Dom!george, begging, slight orgasm denial, thigh riding, oral (Male and female receiving), throat fucking, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex A/N: The summary is shit but it’s an enemies to lovers slow burn. Seriously this is 22k words I lost control. This is for @those-born-to-fight​ who wanted some enemies to lovers with a Slytherin reader! There’s two different ~spicy~ scenes and the tiniest touch of angst towards the end. Feedback is always welcome, and requests are open!

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“God, do they ever just shut up?” Y/N grumbles, getting up to slam the door to her compartment closed. Adrian and Marcus laugh at her, but immediately stop when she glares at them, not wanting to face the consequences of annoying Y/N further.

There are very few things that Y/N outright hates. The list of things that mildly annoy her is quite long, but she reserves the word hate for only those special things that make her want to rip her hair out at the mere mention of them. Fred and George Weasley happen to be at the top of that list.

Like most students, Y/N had been enamored by the twins and their antics at first. Despite the fact that many of their practical jokes were aimed at members of her house and Snape, she found them quite funny. She had even thought about befriending the twins, the rivalry between their houses be damned. But after finding herself on the receiving end of a few too many Weasley practical jokes, she had begun to loathe them.

“I don’t know why you let them get under your skin,” Daphne comments, her tone dry and dull. Despite the fact that her eyes haven’t left the copy of Witch Weekly she’s flipping through, Y/N knows she’s been watching her fidget as the Weasley twins got rowdier and rowdier from their compartment down the hall.

“Because they’re, they’re,” Y/N pauses, trying to find the words to describe just how vile the Weasley Twins make her feel. “There isn’t even a word in the English dictionary that perfectly describes how insufferable they are.” She flips Adrian and Marcus off as they laugh at her frustration.

Daphne rolls her eyes and finally puts her magazine down. “You’re so dramatic, Y/N. Just drown them out like everyone else does. Take me, for example. I haven’t heard a thing either of them has said since third year.”

“That’s because they leave you alone, Daph,” Marcus drawls, coming to Y/N’s defense. This isn’t the first time the four of them have had this conversation and it surely will not be the last. “It’s kind of hard to ignore them when they send bludgers at you hard enough to knock your head off of your shoulders.”

“It’s pretty easy to knock someone’s head off of their shoulders when there isn’t anything in it, Marcus,” Daphne teases, pushing his shoulder lightly.

Adrian pretends to throw up at their behavior, causing Marcus to hit him over the head while Y/N laughs. Adrian ends up hitting Marcus back, and the boys hit at each other for a few moments while Daphne rolls her eyes and Y/N eggs them on.

“The contents of Marcus’s head aside,” Adrian says as he plops down next to Y/N, his breathing heavy from wresting Marcus to the ground. “He’s got a point, Daph. You’ve never actually been the victim of a Weasley prank. So, frankly your opinion doesn’t matter.”

Daphne flips Adrian off and picks her magazine up again. “I’m just saying. There are better things for Y/N to focus her attention on than those stupid Weasleys.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’d like to see you ignore them after they charm your shampoo to turn your hair neon yellow. It didn’t go back to normal for weeks!” Adrian laughs at the memory, and Y/N punches him in the thigh. “Watch yourself, Pucey or I’m gonna put yellow dye in your shampoo.”

“Trying to get in the shower with me, are you?” Adrian teases, throwing his arm over Y/N’s shoulder.

“In your dreams,” Y/N responds, picking up the book she had discarded after a particularly loud shout came from one of the Weasley twins.

She can feel Adrian chuckle as she leans into his side. “I’ll see you there.”

-

Y/N had almost forgotten about the Weasley twins entirely until she feels something hit her in the back of the head during dinner. She picks a piece of mashed potato out of her hair as she turns around, her eyes like daggers as she searches for the culprit. Of course, Fred and George are laughing to themselves, each of them waving at her as they make eye contact.

“Nice to see your hair back to normal, Y/N!” One of them, Fred she thinks, shouts at her.

“Yeah, I reckon if your hair had been yellow any longer you’d have to join Hufflepuff,” the other teases, causing the Gryffindors around them to laugh.

Y/N goes to stand up so she can knock the grins off of their faces, but Adrian puts his hands on her shoulders and forces her to sit back down. “It’s not worth it,” he hisses into her ear. “Not in front of all of the professors. Be smart about your revenge.”

Y/N glares at Adrian, but she relaxes, nonetheless. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. It’s only the first day back, she doesn’t need to go and get detention and lose Slytherin a bunch of points. Not yet at least.

“Hey Marcus, do me a favor and knock them off their brooms first chance you get.”

-

“You’re awfully cheery this morning,” Y/N comments to Daphne as they head up the stairs towards the Great Hall.

“What isn’t there to be cheery about? It’s the first day of the school year. Our last school year,” Daphne responds dreamily.

Y/N snorts in laughter, rolling her eyes at her best friend. “Ah yes. The hardest year of school yet, that certainly is something to be happy about.”

“Oh NEWTS? Who cares about those,” Daphne says casually as they enter the Great Hall and head towards the Slytherin table. “You don’t need good grades in school to be a good wife and mother.”

Y/N scoffs, choosing not to say anything. Unlike Daphne and most of the other girls in her house, she plans on actually having a career of her own. It is common for pureblood families to marry off their daughters to the sons of other pureblood families and often times the mark of a good pureblood girl wasn’t her brain, but her ability to stay silent, look pretty and boss around a house elf.

Thankfully, Y/N’s parents hadn’t raised her with the same values. They didn’t believe in the same archaic things most pureblood families did, and they had raised Y/N to have loftier ambitions than to be someone’s wife and a mother. Y/N’s father always joked that she had inherited her mother’s smart mouth, so it would be impossible for them to marry her off anyway.

“Just because you don’t care about your grades doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t. Right, guys?” Y/N asks as they sit down, looking for both Marcus and Adrian to back her up.

“Are you guys on this again?” Adrian asks, rolling his eyes. Much like Y/N’s hatred of the Weasley twins, Daphne failing to take school seriously was a frequent topic of conversation in their friend group.

“No need to get your panties in a twist, Pucey,” Y/N teases as she grabs some toast. “Daph is free to sit back and spend her last year of school doing nothing, but I on the other hand plan on actually doing good on my NEWTS. So, feel free to slack off with her, or study with me, I don’t really care.”

Marcus chuckles at Y/N’s attitude. “Damn, Y/N tell us how you really feel.”

Y/N chucks a piece of toast at Marcus’s head before she reaches for her bag. “Oh, I almost forgot, I’ve got all of your schedules.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small stack of papers, handing their designated paper to each friend.

“Wow, slacking on your Head Girl duties already and it’s only the first day of term,” Adrian teases with an easy smile.

Y/N flicks his ear. “You’re just jealous that you didn’t make Head Boy.”

Adrian rolls his eyes as he scans over the piece of paper. “Me? An administrative stick in the mud? I don’t think so.”

“Nah mate, you just were looking forward to spending hours alone with Y/N,” Marcus teases, causing both Y/N and Adrian to throw pieces of muffin at him.

“Moving on,” Daphne drawls, clearly tired of their antics. “What’s everyone got first lesson? I’ve got divination.”

When both Marcus and Adrian announce they have Arithmancy, Y/N frowns. “Guess I’ll be heading to Potions alone then.”

-

As Y/N heads down to Potions after breakfast she can feel her mood sinking. Potions is one of her favorite classes, and not just because Snape tends to favor Slytherins. She finds the art of Potions fascinating, and each lesson always tests the bounds of her knowledge. But class is always more enjoyable with her friends around.

Her mood only worsens as the Weasley Twins fall into step beside her, one on each side.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Georgie?” the twin on the left, who is obviously Fred, says playfully.

“Looks like little Y/N is heading to potions, Freddie,” George responds, lightly knocking into her shoulder.

Y/N stumbles on the step despite the light touch. Both Fred and George have a good six inches on her, and their time as beaters on the Gryffindor team has obviously left them both toned and muscular.

“And without her little gang of friends, what a shock,” Fred adds with a laugh as Y/N finds her balance.

“Friends? What friends?,” George teases.

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Y/N glares at each of them. “You two dimwits are in NEWT level potions? Snape must have lowered his standards.”

“Oh Y/N how you wound us,” George gasps, clutching his chest.

Y/N rolls her eyes as they enter the Potions classroom, determined not to let the twins bother her. Daphne did have a point on the train yesterday, there were other things she needed to focus on besides the twins and their stupid games.

She takes her usual seat at the front of the classroom, expecting the twins to slink to the back of the class, far away from Snape’s prying eyes. Her fist automatically clenches when they slide into the seats directly behind her, her nostrils flaring.

This year certainly is going to be the hardest yet, and not just because of the rigorous coursework, Y/N thinks to herself as Snape begins class.

-

“You look, how do I put this nicely.” Marcus pauses. “Flustered.”

Y/N glares at him as she flops down next to Daphne. Potions had been an absolute disaster. She could hardly focus on her Memory Potion, too busy picking out the Jobberknoll Feathers the Weasley Twins kept putting in her hair. She had managed to make something barely acceptable, and Snape’s disappointment was evident.  

“Screw off, Marcus. I just spent an hour dealing with Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 standing behind me doing everything in their power to piss me off. So, unless you wanna end up with your head in one of those pots and dragon dung fertilizer up to your ears, shut your mouth.”

Daphne laughs at Y/N’s outburst. “I told you just to ignore them, Y/N. Although dragon dung fertilizer up to the ears does sound like the perfect revenge plan. Not that I’m condoning letting someone, or someones, get under your skin so badly that you need revenge,” she pauses, winking at Y/N. “But if I were I think that would be the way to go.”

Before Y/N can get too lost in the thought of burying Fred and George in Dragon Dung Professor Sprout is entering the Greenhouse and starting class. But she definitely pushes the idea to the back of her mind for future consideration.

-

“I’m going to fling myself off the top of the astronomy tower,” Y/N announces as she collapses next to Daphne in the common room. After her short break from the Weasley Twins in Herbology, Y/N had to suffer through a double transfiguration and a charms lesson with them both sitting too close for comfort.

“Could you at least wait until it’s closer to the end of term? We could probably get an extra week off at the Christmas holiday,” Adrian says, not even bothering to look up from the Quidditch playbook in his lap.

Y/N groans, putting her head in her hands. “I need better friends, none of you are sympathetic of my suffering.”

“If you need sympathy go hang out with some Hufflepuffs,” Daphne tells her, throwing her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “What did the twins do this time?”

Instead of answering Y/N reaches for her bag and pulls out her charms book, handing it over to Daphne. “Go ahead. Try and open it.”

Daphne gives her a look as she cautiously takes it from her hands. She shares a look with Marcus and Adrian, who were finally intrigued enough to pay attention, before she slowly opens it. As soon as it falls open there’s a whizzing noise followed by loud pops as a mini firework show starts to go off. Daphne squeals and quickly shuts the book, her eyes wide.

“What in the hell was that?” she asks, tossing it back to Y/N.

“Whatever it was it was kinda cool. Open it again,” Marcus says with a laugh.

Y/N glares at him and shoves the book back in her bag. “Fred and George did something to it, obviously. It scared the shit out of me when I opened it in class. Flitwick took 30 points! 20 for the interruption it caused and 10 for the curse word I yelled.”

Adrian and Marcus erupt in a fit of hysterics as they imagine the scene it must have caused, and Y/N gets up so she can beat both of them with a pillow. They both pick up their own pillows to retaliate, and the three of them spend the next several minutes hitting each other. It only ends when a spare pillow ends up flying over and smacking Pansy Parkinson in the back of the head, causing all four of them to collapse in fits of laughter.

Y/N is the first to calm down, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. “Oh, that was absolutely incredible. Just what I needed.” As the rest of her friends pull themselves together Y/N grabs her bag. “Come on, let’s go to dinner. I wanna catch Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 so I can make them fix my stupid book.”

-

When the four of them arrive at the Great Hall Daphne, Marcus and Adrian head towards the Slytherin table, while Y/N makes a beeline towards the Gryffindor table. “Oi! Weasley!” When three red heads whip around to look at Y/N she sighs. Only one of the twins is sitting at the table, and it’s a 50/50 chance she gets it right, so she decides to just take a guess at which one it is. “George!”

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” George asks as Y/N reaches the table.

She smiles to herself, proud that she had gotten it right. Y/N had never taken the time to learn the differences between the two, but now that she’s examining George she can tell that his eyes are softer, like there’s some reservation behind them. She takes out her charms textbook and places it on the table in front of him.

“Fix it,” she demands.

“Fix what?” he asks coyly, a mischievous smile on his face.

Y/N clenches her fist and takes a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “Don’t play stupid, Weasley. Just fix my book.”

George laughs. “Who said I’m playing stupid? You’re the one that called me a dimwit earlier, and you’re right. I am a dimwit.”

Their exchange has caught the attention of the Gryffindors sitting around them, and they’re all watching Y/N intently, smiles playing at the corners of their mouths.

“Look, your stupid little prank has already served its purpose. It scared me and I lost Slytherin some points. Just fix the damn thing, will you?” Y/N is starting to get desperate, but she doesn’t let it show. She keeps her expression blank, not wanting George to know how truly bothered she is.

“I don’t know. Maybe I would be more inclined to fix it if you asked me nicely, Y/N,” his tone is teasing, so much so it almost sounds condescending. The students sitting around them laugh lightly, waiting to see what Y/N does next.

Y/N grits her teeth, weighing her options in her head. She could stand here and nicely ask George to fix her book, or she could walk away and send an owl home to have her parents send her a new one. And even though she is tempted to just take the easy way out, she’ll be damned if she lets a Weasley twin get one over on her.

She takes a deep breath and plasters a sickeningly sweet, fake smile on her face. “George, would you please fix my Charms book?”

A look of surprise quickly crosses George’s face, before he replaces it with an easy smile. “Of course, Y/N. Thank you so much for being a good girl and asking nicely.” The Gryffindor table is basically in full on hysterics by now, and Y/N can feel her cheeks heating up. As soon as George has pressed his wand to her book and muttered the countercharm she snatches it off the table.

“Thanks so much, George,” she forces out, before she turns to head over to the Slytherin table. “Fucking prick.”

She sits down between Adrian and Draco Malfoy with a huff, already trying to figure out what her revenge will be. The conversation she’d had with Marcus and Daphne in Herbology pops back into her head and a wicked smile forms on her face.

-

“Why couldn’t you get Daphne to do this? It’s freezing out here,” Adrian whispers as he shivers.

Y/N rolls her eyes as they tiptoe through the greenhouse. “And you lot call me dramatic.” They both freeze in place when they hear a creek, but when no other noise comes they continue on. “Daphne Greengrass, awake past 10 pm? Ms. Beauty sleep is a nightmare if she doesn’t get a full 8 hours, you know that.”

When they reach the container Professor Sprout keeps the Dragon Dung fertilizer in she turns to Adrian, giving him a mischievous grin. “Besides, you know you’d regret it if you didn’t come with me. Now quick, hand me the bags.”

After they get the required materials from the Greenhouse, she and Adrian quietly sneak back in the castle and head up towards the Owlery. It takes them longer than anticipated, since they have to keep ducking behind statues and into classrooms to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris, but eventually they make it. They both sigh in relief when they return to the common room 30 minutes later, the final part of Y/N’s plan in place for the morning.

“You kind of amaze me, you know that?” Adrian says with a laugh as they both head towards the staircases that lead to their dorms.

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head. “You’re only nice to me so you don’t end up on the end of one of my revenge plans.”

-

The next morning Y/N is up bright and early, her body practically vibrating with excitement. Despite the fact that the Weasley Twins have been pulling pranks on her since first year, this is the first time she’s decided to retaliate.

She could deal with most of their antics. Locking her in the toilets, charming her shampoo, hitting her with snowballs and every other little trick or joke they pulled, Y/N could just grin and bear it. But having to stand in the middle of the Great Hall and practically beg George to fix her book was her tipping point. She can practically still hear him calling her a good girl and it causes a shiver to run down her spine. After today Fred and George will certain think twice about messing with her.

“Hurry up!” she urges her friends as she races to the top of the stairs. The owl post will be arriving in a few minutes, and there is no way she’s missing the big show. Adrian picks up his pace to meet her, but Daphne and Marcus continue up the stairs slowly, caught up in conversation. “You lot are hopeless.”

Y/N practically skips into the Great Hall and after sitting down where she knows she’ll have the perfect view of what’s about to happen she rubs her hands together. Daphne and Marcus give her a confused look as they sit down across from her and Adrian, who thankfully shares her excitement.

“What has gotten into you, Y/N, you look like you’re about to jump out of your skin,” Daphne comments, sounding slightly concerned that her friend may have gone mad.

As the first few owls start to fly in, Y/N grins and gestures towards the Gryffindor table. “Shush, shush. Just look over there and you’ll find out.”

Y/N holds her breath as two familiar owls fly in, each of them holding a package. They soar towards the Gryffindor table, and instead of gracefully dropping their parcels in front of their recipients they drop them a few moments early. The brown paper bags explode as they hit Fred and George at the same time, Dragon Dung Fertilizer pouring down their heads and onto their shoulders and laps.

The entire Great Hall is silent for a moment, before nearly every student bursts into laughter. The most noise comes from the Slytherin table, and Y/N’s chest swells with pride. Adrian pats her on the back as Daphne and Marcus turn back to congratulate her on a prank well done.

Y/N can’t stop looking at the Twins, and her breath catches in her throat when they return her gaze. She sends them both a wink and a wave, giggles still falling from her lips.

-

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” George asks Y/N as he and his brother slide into the seats behind her and Daphne in Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon. She hasn’t seen either of them since they left the Great Hall to get cleaned up, but at lunch Astoria informed her that Ginny Weasley had told her that both boys were quite annoyed.

Y/N laughs but doesn’t turn around to look at either of them. “Nice to see you boys managed to clean up.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” Fred says, leaning forward in his seat to ensure Y/N hears him.

She rolls her eyes, but still doesn’t look back at them. “What? You can’t take what you dish out? I thought you two were tougher than that.” Daphne nudges Y/N, gesturing to the front of the classroom where Professor Umbridge is now standing, clearly telling her to knock it off with the twins.

“Oh, it’s on. You have no idea what you’ve started,” George whispers at her. She imagines that he’s trying to sound threatening, but she can hear the smile in his voice.

As Professor Umbridge starts rambling on about her expectations, Y/N turns to face the twins. “Bring it on, bitch.”

-

“No magic? No practical lessons? She was joking, right?” Y/N rambles as they head towards the Great Hall for dinner. They’ve all just come from a dreadful Defense Against the Dark Arts class, where Professor Umbridge had made it very clear that they’d be spending the year doing nothing but reading from their textbooks.

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Frankly I don’t see what the big deal is. She’s not wrong, our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes have been all over the place. I think it’s a good thing that we’re finally going to have some structure and unity.”

Y/N groans, looking to Adrian and Marcus for support. She frowns when they both refuse to meet her gaze. “That’s because you don’t care about doing good on your NEWTS. You don’t need an O on your exams to marry Marcus or whoever your parents have picked out for you to be with after graduation,” she spits.

Before Daphne has the chance to pick her jaw up off of the ground and respond, Y/N is turning around and heading away from her friends, needing to be alone.

-

“Are you alright?”

Y/N picks her head up from where she had buried it in her arms, surprised to see Ginny Weasley standing in front of her. She nods as she uncurls her body, stretching it out slightly. She had taken refuge on a random bench in one of the corridors and after sitting on the stone for a few hours her body has begun to ache. She moves down the bench a little and gestures for Ginny to take a seat.

While the Weasley Twins are Y/N’s least favorite people in the world, she actually doesn’t mind their siblings. She had gotten to know Percy quite well, since they had been Prefects together for a year before he had become Head Boy, and he had helped her out on quite a few transfiguration assignments during her OWL year. All she knows about Ron are the things Draco has said, but she doubts that anything that comes from his mouth is true. She’s never had a conversation with Ginny, but Daphne’s younger sister Astoria is quite friendly with her, so if she’s willing to befriend a Slytherin she’s alright in Y/N’s book.

“You seemed pretty angry earlier, before dinner. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Y/N fidgets with her school robes as her cheeks flush, she had been hoping that no one had witnessed her outburst. She had heard too often that Slytherins were mean and evil, so she always did her best to contain her emotions around others, not wanting to perpetuate the stereotype even further.

“You saw that then?” When Ginny nods she sighs. “It’s just been a frustrating few days and I love my friends, but they don’t always get it. That stupid Umbridge is really going to screw me over this year and I can’t fail now. Not when I’ve spent the last seven years working my ass off.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N that sounds awful. There’s going to be this, thing. A meeting or whatever. Next weekend during the first Hogsmeade trip,” Ginny pauses so she can tuck a piece of parchment into her hand. “Stop by, it might be, uh helpful to you.” With a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder Ginny leaves Y/N alone.

With a heavy sigh Y/N starts to head to the common room. She uncurls the piece of paper Ginny had handed her, fearful that this might be some elaborate set up for one of her brother’s tricks.

Hogshead Inn, 12 pm, is all the paper reads in neat handwriting that Y/N doesn’t recognize. She shoves the piece of parchment into her pocket as she reaches the dungeons, trying to decide whether or not to go.

-

The rest of the week and the next pass by slowly much to Y/N’s dismay. Things between her, Marcus and Adrian returned to somewhat normal, but Daphne is still refusing to speak to her. No matter how many times Y/N apologized Daphne just kept ignoring her. The fact that the Weasley Twins were lurking behind every corner just pushed Y/N closer to the edge, so by the time Saturday arrived Y/N didn’t care if the note Ginny had slipped her the previous week was the bait for an elaborate prank. She just needed some sort of human interaction.

Due to her and Daphne’s still strained relationship and the first Slytherin Quidditch practice of the school year, Y/N is all alone as she heads to Hogsmeade. Normally she’d not even bother going if her friends didn’t accompany her, but her lack of company makes it easier for her to slip down the forgotten path that leads to the Hogshead Inn.

She looks the dim building up and down as she approaches, grimacing at its appearance. Adrian and Marcus had tried to convince her and Daphne to enter the pub with them during one of their first trips to the little village on the outskirts of Hogwarts, but the girls had overpowered them, and dragged them into Honeydukes instead.

She pauses briefly at the entrance, trying to prepare for the things that could be waiting for her on the other side. She enters through the door slowly, her eyes widening in surprise at the scene she’s met with. It certainly is not what she had expected. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are sitting in front of the unlit fireplace, with more than a dozen chairs facing them. Some are empty, while others are taken up by students that Y/N vaguely recognizes. Ginny gives her a wave when they make eye contact, motioning for her to take a seat.

Y/N sits down in a seat towards the back and fidgets with the sleeves of her jumper. She’s relaxed slightly since she entered, this clearly wasn’t some elaborate prank set up by Fred and George, but she’s still unsure of what she just walked in to.

“What are you doing here?” Comes a voice from behind her, causing Y/N’s shoulders to tense up. She turns around only to be met with Fred and George.

“Come to spy on us, Head Girl? Want to get all of our secrets and then run off to the greaseball you call Head of House to tattle on us?” Fred sneers as he and George push past her to take the seats in front of her.

Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Clearly I’m here for the same reasons you are, moron. If I was spying on you why would I just be sitting here out in the open?”

Truly, Y/N has no idea what she’s doing there, Ginny had been extremely vague. All she knows is that this meeting will somehow make dealing with Umbridge better, and after the awful start to term she’s had Y/N is willing to do anything at this point.

Before either Fred or George can respond, Hermione is urging everyone to take a seat so they can begin.

-

45 minutes later Y/N is standing behind Fred and George, waiting her turn to sign the paper that will make her an official member of Dumbledore’s Army. Y/N was skeptical at first about getting involved in whatever Harry and Hermione had cooked up. But as Harry talked more, about needing real, practical knowledge Y/N couldn’t help but agree. She had always been so focused on school and her future career that she never even considered what lay waiting for them outside of Hogwarts’ protective walls.

Y/N hadn’t known Cedric well. A conversation or two during Prefect duties, idle pleasantries in the hall, but that was it. But she had spent much of her summer vacation thinking about him, and about what Dumbledore had said about his death. While her friends and many of her housemates thought Dumbledore was an old crack pot, Y/N trusted and believed him. Her parents did as well, and they had talked about the first wizarding war with her over dinner on several different occasions.

As she listened to Harry talk about what he had seen and what he has already dealt with, Y/N knew that she needed to be a part of whatever he was planning. Being able to get some practice with actual defensive magic would surely help her when it came to end of the year exams, but if they truly were getting ready for another war, it may just help save her life.

As she heads back towards school, she can’t help but think about a conversation she’d had with her father not too long before the school year started again. He had reminded her that she had been placed in Slytherin house because of her ambitions in life, and her willingness to do whatever it takes to get there. Before he had kissed her goodnight he told her that it wasn’t always what you know, but who you know and that the people she surrounded herself with was just as important as focusing on her studies.

At first she had scoffed at his thinly veiled digs at her friends. Y/N has been friends with Marcus, Daphne and Adrian since first year, and she had never felt the need to expand her circle. Her parents were quite familiar with the families her friends came from, and the values they held. She knew that her parents didn’t exactly like her friends but were still supportive of Y/N and the relationship she formed with them.

But now, after seeing how badly the Daily Prophet was slandering both Dumbledore and Harry and hearing directly from Harry what he’d been through, Y/N understands what her father was saying. The Greengrass’ and Flint’s had been suspected Death Eaters all those years ago and its likely members of Adrian’s family had ties to Voldemort as well. Her father had been encouraging her to seek out new friendships to try and protect her from the Dark Arts that seemed very attractive to members of Slytherin house.

She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t hear the Weasley Twins coming up behind her until they’re knocking into her shoulders as they pass by. She flips them off behind their backs, trying to ignore their chuckling.

“I can’t believe I just signed up to spend even more time with those twats,” she mumbles to herself as the castle comes into view. While she doesn’t mind having Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny on her side, she plans on staying as far away from the Weasley Twins as possible.

-

That night at dinner Y/N is listening to Adrian and Marcus bicker over what drills to run during their next practice when her mouth starts to tingle. Her eyes widen when she takes another sip of pumpkin juice and the sensation only gets worse. Adrian and Marcus give her a concerned look as she begins to fidget and from the corner of her eye Y/N can see that Daphne is watching as well.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Adrian asks as Y/N slaps her hands over her mouth.

Except she can’t respond. Her tongue has started to swell in her mouth so much so that it’s trying to force its way past her lips. It feels like it weighs a ton and as the pain increases she has no choice but to let it slowly seep out of her mouth.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” she hears George shout from the Gryffindor table, causing groups of students to look over at her. She’s desperately trying to contain her growing tongue as she gets up to head to the Hospital Wing.

“Cat got your tongue?” she can hear Fred call behind her, nearly drowned out by the peeling laughter coming from the Great Hall.

-

When she gets back to the common room that night, Y/N is expecting it to be empty. But when she’s barely closed the door behind her a mess of black curls takes over her vision and arms wrap around her tightly.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re alright. I thought you would have been back ages ago. What happened?” Daphne asks as she lets go. She leads Y/N over to a set of couches in the corner, where Adrian and Marcus are waiting for them.

Adrian pulls her down next to him and Daphne sits so close to Y/N on the other side that she’s practically in her lap. “Would you all stop fussing? I’m fine, honest,” she says with a reassuring laugh. While Y/N is fine, she can’t help but lean into Adrian’s side, feeling relieved that things are back to normal between the four of them.

“Let me guess, Weasley Twin revenge?” Marcus asks.

Y/N nods, smiling when Daphne curses them under her breath. “A creation they like to call Ton-Tongue Toffees. They must have managed to get it into my goblet or something, so it melted into my pumpkin juice. It took ages to get the swelling to go down but Madam Pomfrey managed it. I’ve just spent the last 45 minutes listening to Snape try and get the maximum punishment for them.”

Y/N knows that not many people like Snape, that it’s really only Slytherins that appreciate him. It’s no secret that he favors his house almost unfairly so, but she doesn’t really mind it when he’s advocating for them. The twins had technically poisoned her, which is something Snape had pointed out when McGonagall suggested only taking points away from the boys for a “harmless” prank. Snape had managed to negotiate on Y/N’s behalf, and the boys will now be serving a week’s detention with Snape.

“So, what are you gonna do to get back at them?” Daphne asks, causing all three of them to give her a look. “What?”

“What happened to all that crap about just ignoring them?” Marcus teases.

Daphne rolls her eyes. “To hell with all that. They want a prank war? Well then let’s show them what being a Slytherin is all about.”

-

By the time Monday morning rolls around Y/N is in such a good mood that she practically skips down the stairs to Potions. The fake Galleon Ginny had slipped her during lunch yesterday had burned red this morning, letting Y/N know that the DA’s first official meeting would be taking place this Thursday. So not only was she going to get some real defensive magic training, but after the Twin’s prank on Saturday evening her and Daphne were able to properly make up and she had her friends back.

She bites her lip as the twins fall in step beside her once again, determined not to let their presence ruin her mood.

“How’s your tongue feeling this morning?” Fred asks from her right side.

“Any bloating? Tingling? Lasting side effects?” George teases from her left side.

Y/N shakes her head and chuckles. “It’s okay boys, go ahead and make your jokes. I want you to remember how good you feel now, because once I’ve gotten you back you’ll wish you’d never messed with me.”

She can hear them both laugh as they enter the Potions class and take their respective seats. “Really? Already planning your next late-night trip into the greenhouses?” George muses.

Y/N turns in her seat so she can look each of them in the eyes. “Oh, you poor, sweet, boys,” she mocks. “When I’m done with you the dragon dung fertilizer you took to the head will seem like a shower of rose petals.” She gives them a sly wink, and turns back around, their shocked expressions still dancing around in her brain.

-

“So, you figured out what you’re going to do them, then?” Daphne asks excitedly after Y/N has finished recounting her conversation with Fred and George to her and Marcus in Herbology. Professor Sprout has tasked them with dissecting Shrivelfigs, so the three of them can talk freely. Even though her and her friends had spent most of Sunday trying to concoct the perfect revenge plan they had come up with nothing that was quite right.

“I guess you could say that.” When Marcus and Daphne give her questioning looks she giggles. “I’m not going to actually do anything to them.” When they both still look confused she rolls her eyes. “I’m just going to let them think that something big is coming. That way they’re always on edge when I’m around, always looking over their shoulders, waiting for some huge prank to befall them. It’ll drive them bonkers trying to figure out when and where it’s gonna happen.”

Marcus gives Y/N a look of appreciation. “Damn, that’s pretty brilliant, Y/N.”

Y/N bows at his praise, causing Daphne to chuckle. “What they got this morning is just a taste of what I have planned for tonight.”

-

Y/N sneaks out of the common room that night, not too long after dinner. She knows that Fred and George will be serving detention with Snape and that it’s the perfect opportunity to mess with them.

When she reaches the Potions classroom she pauses just outside the door to ensure that Snape isn’t actually still in the room with the boys. When all she can hear is the clatter of cauldrons and Fred and George’s soft voices, she decides to go for it.

“Excuse me, Professor?” Y/N asks innocently as she enters the classroom. “Oh, boys! What a treat, seeing you down in our ends this late at night.” Y/N walks further into the classroom and she can’t help but smile as the twins start to fidget.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Fred asks, eyeing her warily.

She puts the most innocent look on her face as she can, blinking up at the two of them. “I’m looking for Professor Snape. Is he around?”

“No, he left us alone quite a bit ago,” George responds. Y/N can tell he’s trying to hide how nervous he sounds. Fred seems like the one to never back down, so Y/N switches her tactic slightly. She starts to walk closer to George and she has to bite her lip to keep the smile off her face as he tries to subtly move away from her.

“That’s a shame. I have a question I need to ask him.” Y/N leans against the table, moving that much closer to George. “Did he say when he was going to be back?”

“He didn’t,” Fred answers, making direct eye contact with Y/N. She returns his gaze, not backing down until he looks away from her.

Feeling accomplished Y/N smacks the table with her palm and stands back up. “Well I guess I’ll leave you boys to it.” She heads towards the door. “Have fun.” With one final wink she’s out the door, laughing to herself as she goes.

-

Before Y/N knows it, Thursday has already arrived. She tries her best to contain her excitement, but as the first DA meeting approaches it’s getting harder and harder. She feels bad for not telling her friends about what she’s involved in, but she knows it’s for the better. They certainly wouldn’t approve of the unofficial club, and she doesn’t want to chance that they’ll blow the whole operation in to Umbridge.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Y/N says with a wave as she heads to leave the common room. She  told the others she had some Head Girl duties to take care of so they wouldn’t try and come with her when she left.

As she heads towards the room of requirement Y/N takes the time to glance over her shoulder every once in a while to make sure no one is following her. She had been the only Slytherin in attendance at the Hogshead Inn, and she doesn’t need to be trusted even less by bringing unwanted guests with her.

When she finally enters the room of requirement it’s a bit crowded, but she can tell that not everyone has arrived yet. Ginny waves at Y/N, motioning for her to come and join her and Hermione. She’s silently thankful for her invitation so she doesn’t have to stand there by herself and goes to join the two girls.

“Hey, Ginny. Granger,” she greets them both with an awkward wave. She doesn’t know much about Hermione, again, having only heard about her from Draco. She’s had to interact with her a few times due to Hermione being a prefect, but for some odd reason she trusts Ginny, so she figures that Hermione is alright to hang out with.

“Y/N I’m really glad you decided to join. Not only is it probably helpful to have the Head Girl on our side, it’s also really nice to have some house diversity,” Hermione says with a genuine smile.

Y/N can feel her cheeks start to heat up, so she clears her throat, giving her a moment to regain her composure. “Thanks, Hermione. I never really understood it, all of the house rivalry mumbo jumbo. I’m just supposed to automatically hate you because some hat put you in one house over another? Seems silly to me.”

She hears someone scoff behind her, and she turns to see George standing behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. “What? Got a problem, Weasley?”

“That’s real big talk considering the fact that you’ve had some grudge against me and Fred since first year, Y/N,” he says, looking at her curiously.

“I don’t hate you and Fred because you’re Gryffindors,” she explains with an eye roll. “I hate you because you’re ungodly annoying.” She bites her lip, allowing herself to look him up and down. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and Y/N can’t deny that his arms look downright filthy. She had never truly looked at George, he was quieter than Fred, so he didn’t quite capture her attention like his brother had. But now that he’s standing over her, she can’t deny that he’s attractive. He is most certainly her mortal enemy, but he’s an attractive enemy at least.

“If anything, you and Fred are the ones who started our rivalry,” she continues a moment later when her eyes meet his again. “You locked me in the girl’s bathroom with Moaning Myrtle for three hours on the second day of school, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” George says with a laugh. “Forgot about that.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, turning her attention to Harry as he starts the meeting. He decides to start with something basic but effective, disarming. Y/N could disarm any witch or wizard in her sleep, but not everyone there is at the same skill level, so she’s willing to get some practice in.

They start to break up into pairs and Y/N looks around, trying to find someone, anyone to work with. Of course, George is with Fred, Ginny is already working with a Ravenclaw Y/N thinks is named Luna, and Hermione is with Ron. She ends up locking eyes with Neville Longbottom and she motions for him to come join her.

“I’ll work with you Neville.”

He gives her an appreciative smile, and as he crosses the room George nudges him. “Watch out for her Neville. You never know what she might be up to, this could all be a big ploy to take out the entire Gryffindor house.”

Y/N flips him off, giving Neville a warm smile. “Just ignore him, he’s an idiot.” They both take their stance, wands at the ready. She has heard Draco and his cronies make fun of Neville for hours on end, so she’s not really expecting much to happen.

When Neville waves his wand and shouts Expelliarmus, his own wand flies out of his hand and clatters to the floor at Y/N’s feet. His cheeks turn a bright red, and Y/N can practically feel how embarrassed he is. He looks at her expectantly, like he’s waiting for her to laugh and say something rude.

She sends him a smile and grabs his wand. “That was a really good try, Neville. The first time I tried to disarm someone I nearly blinded Professor Quirrell when my wand shot out of my hand and flew across the room,” she reassures him with a laugh. When Neville laughs too she hands him his wand back. “Here, try moving your wand like this.” She shows him the proper wand movement before she takes her place again. “Ready?”

Two hours later when Y/N is heading back towards the Slytherin common room, she feels accomplished. Neville had managed to get her wand to wiggle in her grip by the end of it, and she could tell he was proud of himself.

Y/N is thinking about all the homework she has to do tonight when someone falls into step beside her. “Alright, give it up, what’s your deal?”

She looks up at George before she examines the rest of the hallway. “Where’s your brother? I thought you two did everything together.”

“He’s down in the kitchens getting food, not that it’s any of your business,” he adds quickly. “And stop dodging the question. What’s your deal?”

She rolls her eyes and stops walking. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” George turns to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. She mirrors his stance, looking up at him.

“Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m talking about.”

Y/N sighs, rolling her eyes again. “So, what because I’m a Slytherin I can’t participate in clandestine clubs? Your sister is the one who invited me to that meeting, so go and ask her why she did it. All I did was show up. I liked what Harry said and since Umbridge isn’t doing anything to help us with NEWTS  I signed up. That’s it.”

George doesn’t respond immediately, instead he studies Y/N’s face, trying to see if she’s lying. He goes to say something when someone interrupts them.

“Mr. Weasley! Ms. Y/L/N!” They both jump as Professor McGonagall comes down the hall towards them. “What are you two doing out past curfew?” Y/N and George look to each other with a worried glance, not entirely sure what to say. “Never mind the reason, you shouldn’t be out of your common rooms at this hour. I’ll have 15 points from each of your houses and I’ll see you both in detention tomorrow evening!”

Y/N gives George one last glare before she stalks all the way back to her common room.

-

“What exactly were you doing standing in a hallway with George Weasley past curfew anyway?” Daphne asks Y/N the next day at lunch.

Daphne had just finished explaining the evening she had planned out for them when Y/N informed her that she’d be stuck in detention with George for the beginning portion of their girl’s night.

Y/N shrugs, trying to act casual. “I finished up my Head Girl stuff and was going back to the common room when I saw him sneaking around. I followed him, figuring I could catch him doing something. I confronted him and McGonagall saw us and gave us detention.”

“Maybe that was his plan all along, maybe he was trying to get you in trouble,” Daphne suggests.

“Yeah but he got in trouble too, Daph,” Y/N reminds her with a laugh.

The other girl shrugs, taking a bite of her Yorkshire pudding. “I didn’t say it was a smart plan.” Marcus and Adrian arrive then, taking their respective seats next to the girls.

“Who didn’t have a smart plan?” Marcus asks as he starts to pile food on his plate.

“George Weasley,” Y/N answers, batting away Adrian’s hand as he tries to steal her roll. “I caught him sneaking around one of the hallways after curfew and McGonagall rolled up on us and gave us detention.”

“Detention? On a Friday night? What about our hot date?” Adrian teases, making another attempt at stealing her roll.

Y/N flips him off and lets him have it. “The only hot date you’re going to have tonight is your right hand.”

-

Y/N groans as she picks up another teapot to clean. Her and George have been serving their detention in complete silence for twenty minutes and her brain feels like it’s going to mush. “Is detention always this boring?” she asks, not really expecting George to respond.

“No. But mostly because I’m usually with Fred, not you,” George replies dully.

“Oh, how you wound me, George,” she responds, mocking the tone he had used with her on the first day of term.

They work together in silence for a few minutes before George puts down the teapot he had been scrubbing and tosses his rag to the side. “So, I asked Ginny,” he says, turning to look at Y/N.

Y/N gives him a look as she turns to face him as well, discarding what she had been doing. “Asked Ginny what?”

George rolls his eyes at her, clearly annoyed that Y/N had forgotten the conversation they had in the hall the previous night. “Why she told you about the meeting at the Hogshead, about Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Oh,” she responds softly. When she had said that to George last night she hadn’t expected him to actually ask, she was just trying to get him to leave her alone. “And what did she say?” George gives her a look, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me. You’re the one that brought it up.”

George chuckles at her frustration. “Aw come on, I’m just kidding.” He pauses. “She said that Astoria Greengrass talks about you a ton, about how you’re different than other Slytherins. She said something about how you got into a fight with your friends, and she decided that if she talked to you and you were cool enough, she would invite you.”

“So, I’ve got the Ginny Weasley stamp of approval? I’m honored,” she says with a laugh, her surprise evident in her tone. “Does that make me alright then? Since I’m different than other Slytherins? Whatever that means.”

George shrugs his shoulders. “I think I know what she means.” When Y/N raises an eyebrow at him he continues. “Oh, come on don’t act like you don’t know it. You’re nice.”

Y/N scoffs, lightly shoving his arm. “Slytherins being mean is just a stereotype, George. Tons of the people in my house are nice. Daphne is nice, and so are Marcus and Adrian.”

“Cut the crap, Y/N,” he chides. “Daphne, Marcus and Adrian are nice to you and the other members of your house because you all share that in common. But you’re nice to, well most people honestly. Everyone even, except maybe me and Fred. But we aren’t nice to you either, so I understand it.”

Y/N opens her mouth to respond, but George puts his hand up to stop her. “Take yesterday, for example. I saw you, with Neville. The way you made him feel better about his failure, how you encouraged him and helped him improve. Daphne or Marcus or any other Slytherin wouldn’t have done that. They’d have laughed in his face and you know it.”

“I guess you’re right,” she admits softly, a slight blush on her cheeks from George’s kind words.

“So, you’re so worried about your NEWTs that you’re willing to spend hours practicing a spell you mastered in 2nd year? Thought you were top of our class?” he teases.

Y/N plays with her fingers and fidgets in her seat. She knows the question is innocent, but it feels like George can see right into her soul. That’s he looking at all her worst fears. “I am, yeah. I need at least an Exceeds Expectations on my defense against the dark arts NEWT to be a Healer and I’ve already worked so hard, I can’t screw it up now, not when I’m this close.”

George is silent for a moment and he turns in his chair so he’s fully facing Y/N. When she does the same he speaks. “I didn’t know you want to be a healer.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Weasley. What is it you said? I’m not nice to you and you’re not nice to me. It’s always been that way.”

“Yeah I guess so,” he admits. “I never imagined you as a Healer, if I’m honest. But I think you’ll be amazing at it.”

Y/N blushes and looks down. “Thanks, I appreciate it. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, since I was a little kid. I used to pretend to Heal my dolls all the time. My parents even gave me a muggle doctors coat for Christmas once, I wore it like, every day,” she reminisces with a laugh.

George laughs along with her. “I fear that I may have seriously misjudged you, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, lightly shoving his shoulder.

George blushes and Y/N finds it endearing. “I figured you and your family were like the other pureblood Slytherin dynasties. That you cared about your grades to make you a more appealing bride or something.”

Y/N nods in understanding. “Yeah I don’t blame you on that one. That’s what most people think. My parents were raised like that and they hated it. All the stupid rules, the lack of freedom. They’re lucky, they were able to find genuine love with each other. And they’re still so in love, it’s actually pretty sickening,” she says with a laugh. “But they agreed that when they had kids they wouldn’t raise them like that. That they’d let them think for themselves, find their own way in life. It’s been so hard, not to send an owl to my dad and tell him all about Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Really? He’d approve of it?” he asks, unable to help how surprised he sounds.

“Oh yeah,” she confirms with a laugh. “He was so angry all summer, with what the Daily Prophet is saying about Harry and Dumbledore. He even not so subtly suggested that I expand my horizons, make some friendships and connections with people from other houses. I think he’d be really excited about what Harry’s doing.”

“That’s actually really cool. I guess I definitely misjudged you then.”

They both get back to work then, but Y/N doesn’t feel as awkward anymore. She’s never bothered to have an actual conversation with either of the Weasley Twins, and she is quite surprised to find that she actually really enjoyed it.

-

When Y/N and George leave the transfiguration classroom a few hours later she’s exhausted and silently thanks Merlin that she is a Witch, because cleaning the muggle way is dreadful. Despite the late hour Y/N is surprised to see that the hallway isn’t empty. Adrian and Fred are leaning up against the wall across from the transfiguration classroom a few feet apart, glaring at each other.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks with a soft laugh, altering both boys of their arrival.

“I wanted to make sure George was alright. You’ve been spouting about your grand revenge plan all week, I wanted to make sure you didn’t try and pull anything while you two were alone,” Fred answers, finally looking away from Adrian so he can glare at Y/N.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you, Weasley. I don’t care why you’re here.” When Fred flips her off she returns the gesture.

“To answer your question,” Adrian starts as he walks towards her. “I came to accompany you back to the common room. A gentleman never lets a lady walk alone at night.”

“Well then where’s this gentleman?” she teases, looking around the hallway.

Before Adrian can respond Fred laughs. “Yeah, I don’t see a lady either.” George’s laughter joins his brothers and Y/N flips them off again.

When Adrian starts to move closer to Fred, Y/N grabs his arm and pulls him into her chest. “Not here, Adrian,” she whispers. “McGonagall is right in there,” she reminds him, gesturing towards the open classroom door with her head.

“You are so lucky, weasel,” Adrian practically growls at him. Y/N wraps her arms around Adrian’s waist and starts to pull him down the hall away from Fred and George. Adrian glares at them one last time before he turns forward and wraps his arm around her shoulder. “You should have let me hit him. One good hit would have been worth a month’s detention.”

“Not this close to quidditch season it’s not. Smack a few good bludgers at him instead,” Y/N pauses and she looks up at Adrian with her best puppy dog eyes. “Piggyback ride? Please?”

Adrian sighs heavily but crouches down in front of Y/N, nonetheless. She squeals in delight, climbing onto her friend’s back. Adrian grips her thighs tightly as he stands. “Ready?” Once he feels Y/N nod he sets off towards the common room. “You’re lucky I love you, brat.”

-

When Fred and George slide into their seats behind Y/N in Potions on Monday morning they don’t say a word. When she saw them enter the room she had tensed up, just waiting for whatever snarky comment they were bound to make. So, when they take their seats without a word, Y/N can’t help but turn around to look at them.

“What’s wrong with you two?” When neither of them responds, Y/N waves her hand in front of their faces. “Hello? Earth to Nitwit 1 and Nitwit 2.” She expected her insult to get them to at least look at her, but both of their focus is on the blackboard in the front of the room. She huffs in annoyance. “Whatever be pricks. I don’t care.” She turns back around and crosses her arms, trying to convince herself that she in fact doesn’t care that they’re ignoring her.

-

“Will you stop staring at them? It’s weird,” Marcus scolds Y/N that night at dinner, kicking her shin under the table to get her attention.

Y/N kicks him back, finally tearing her attention away from Fred and George. “They’re planning something,” she insists.

Daphne rolls her eyes and throws a carrot at Y/N. “First you complain that they’re always loud and bothering you and now you’re complaining that they aren’t bothering you. Will you just give it a rest? Be thankful that they’ve finally decided to leave you alone.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at Daphne before she takes a bite out of the carrot she had thrown at her. She knows Daphne is right, but she can’t help but be bothered that Fred and George aren’t even trying to annoy her. As much as she hates to admit it, she misses their antics. Y/N had really enjoyed George’s company during their detention and part of her had hoped that maybe their newfound acquaintanceship would have carried over once they were no longer the only people in the room.

So, she had found herself quite disappointed that he hadn’t said a word to her all day. He hadn’t even looked at her. Y/N thought she had felt his gaze on her during Charms, but when she turned around to check he was focused on Flitwick.

“Daph is right,” Adrian whispers in her ear, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “They’re finally leaving you alone, you should be happy.”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, her gaze falling upon Fred and George once again. “I am happy,” she lies. “I just know them too well. They’re planning something big. They’re trying to throw me off.” She flips her friends off when they all groan.

“What makes you think they’re planning something?” Marcus asks. “Did something happen between you and George during detention? You didn’t say too much about it.”

Y/N bites her lip. She hadn’t said much to her friends about her detention when her and Adrian arrived back in the common room that night, just that it was mind numbingly boring. She didn’t want them to know that she had not only had a conversation with George Weasley, but she had actually enjoyed it.

“No, nothing happened. We sat there cleaning teapots for hours, McGonagall came back and she let us go,” she says with a shrug, trying to seem casual. “He didn’t even say two words to me.”

“Exactly, so chill out. Enjoy the peace,” Daphne says.

When Y/N finally collapses in her bed that night she can’t seem to fall asleep despite how tired she is. She tosses and turns, her mind wandering to George and why she’s so bothered by the sudden lack of attention she’s getting from him. Her stomach lurches, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.

I have a crush on George Weasley.

-

Y/N spends the rest of the week avoiding both Weasley Twins. She sits as far away from them as possible, refuses to look at them and even goes as far as to hide in an empty classroom when she sees them heading towards her one afternoon. Y/N is determined to extinguish whatever positive feelings she has towards George. She’s spent the past seven years hating his guts, and she is not about to let herself reverse all of that over some stupid crush. Unfortunately for Y/N, on Saturday morning her fake Galleon burns red, letting her know that there will be another DA meeting that night.

Which is why she’s currently heading towards the Room of Requirement, her stomach a pit of dread and despair. “Get it together, Y/N,” she mutters to herself. Y/N is standing just outside the room of requirement and she takes a deep breath to calm herself down.

Y/N pulls the door open and goes to head in, but she runs smack into the chest of someone trying to leave. An involuntary squeal leaves her lips as her body tenses up, preparing itself to hit the ground. Except she doesn’t even fall. A pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and she’s pulled into the other person’s chest.

“Woah there. Watch where you’re going.”

Y/N doesn’t have to look up to know that George Weasley is holding her in his arms. She can feel her cheeks heat up and she pushes away from him, needing to get away from him as fast as possible. “I could say the same to you, Weasley,” she sneers.

Even though her tone is crude Y/N can feel her heart fluttering in her chest and her skin is tingling from his touch. She looks up at his face, letting her eyes linger on his lips for just a second. She tries not to think about what it would feel like for him to grip her waist as they kissed.

“No need to be so feisty, Y/N,” George teases, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts.

She rolls her eyes and steps aside so George can leave, Fred following close behind him. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to mow me down I wouldn’t need to be,” she responds, watching as Fred flips her off behind his back.

She watches them walk away for a moment before heading into the room of requirement. Her palms are sweaty even from that small interaction with George and Y/N tries to subtly wipe them off on her skirt as she joins Ginny, Hermione and Ron in the back of the room.

“Where are they off to?” she asks after they’ve been talking for a few minutes, not wanting to seem too interested in George’s movements.

“Filch has been sniffing around for Umbridge, she knows Harry is up to something. So, Fred and George are going to slip him something that’ll put him out of commission for few hours,” Hermione explains.

Y/N nods. Hermione had made a few complaints to both Y/N and Miles, a Ravenclaw in her year that was Head Boy, that Fred and George had been spending their free time making an array of joke products and then testing them out on first years. “Despite the fact that I have been the victim of a Weasley product, I can’t say I feel bad for Filch.”

Once Fred and George slip back into the room of requirement and give Harry a thumbs up, he starts the meeting. They’re going to continue working on disarming, and Y/N immediately searches for Neville in the crowd. Neville certainly isn’t the most talented wizard, but Y/N can tell that he’s full of determination and she likes working with him. When Harry sets them off to work Neville joins her.

“You better watch out, Y/N, I’ve been practicing,” Neville says with a laugh as they take their stances.

“Alright then, Longbottom, let’s see what you’ve got.”

-

When Y/N leaves the Room of Requirement later that night, she can still hear Neville chattering to his friends happily as they head back to Gryffindor tower. It had taken him most of the meeting, but Neville had finally managed to get her wand to fly out of her hand. She was extremely happy for him as the other members of the DA came around to congratulate him, and not just because George had pressed up against her back as he patted Neville on the shoulder.

“Sneaking away without saying Goodbye, Y/N? I’m hurt,” George scolds teasingly as he comes up behind her.

She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her excitement. “Oh, so you’re speaking to me again?” she says as he falls into step next to her. He’s standing so close that their arms almost brush, and Y/N swallows down the butterflies that come up her throat.

“Aw, did little Y/N miss me?” George teases, shoving her shoulder.

“No,” Y/N responds far too quickly, trying not to get flustered from the contact. “Just surprised that you managed to go a whole week without annoying me that’s all.”

“Uh huh. Sure, whatever you say.”

She bites her lip, trying to contain her glee. Cut it out, she scolds herself. George Weasley is nothing more than an annoying git, you do not like him.

“Why are you following me, anyway? Last I checked Gryffindor’s common room is in the other direction,” she questions as they head down towards the Great Hall.

Y/N watches George shrug out of the corner of her eye. His face is blank, but Y/N can tell that he’s nervous. “Making sure you’re not getting up to anything is all.”

“Or you’re distracting me while your brother sets up some kind of trap,” she responds.

Suddenly she feels George’s hand wrap around her wrist and he’s pulling her into a nearby broom closet. As he slams the door shut behind them Y/N can’t help but notice just how close they are. Her back is pressed up against the wall and George is standing only a few inches away, his hands on either side of her head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N demands, hoping that her voice doesn’t shake. George is towering over her, and Y/N can see the muscles on his forearms bulging in her peripheral vision. It is taking every ounce of willpower in her body to stay still.

George leans down as he chuckles and his warm breath tickles Y/N’s cheeks, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “I think what you mean to say is thank you because I just saved your ass from serving another detention with McGonagall.”

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “McGonagall? I didn’t see-.“ Y/N’s sentence is cut short as George places his hand over her mouth to silence her. Her breathing involuntarily speeds up and she hopes that George can’t feel the blush on her cheeks. Y/N can hear footsteps approaching the broom closet and she closes her eyes in fear of being caught in such a compromising position with George.

Thankfully the footsteps disappear just as quicky as they had come and Y/N sighs in relief when George takes his hand away. “Thank you,” she mutters. Y/N can still feel the imprint of his hand on her mouth and it makes her stomach feel queasy.

“You’re welcome,” George says, sounding pleased with himself. “We should probably stay here for a moment or two longer, just to make sure she’s gone.”

Y/N nods, her head tilting back so she can look at George’s face. She examines his features closely, trying to commit them to memory. After her realization earlier in the week she had spent every moment trying not to think about George, but now that they’re standing there so close he’s the only thing she can think about.

George clears his throat suddenly, breaking Y/N from her thoughts. “We’re uh, we’re probably good to go.”

“Yeah,” she agrees softly, trying not to let the disappointment she feels seep into her voice.

George lingers a moment longer, before he pulls away and slowly opens the door to their hiding spot. Y/N watches as he checks the hallway and follows him out when the coast is clear.

“Well um. Thanks for that,” she stutters, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ll see you around, I guess.” Y/N starts to walk away, but she pauses when George follows behind her. She turns to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“You might still be up to something. I should follow you, just to make sure,” he responds confidently.

Y/N rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anymore, not wanting her giddiness to become noticeable. They walk side by side silently with Y/N glancing at George every few steps. As they reach the landing Y/N goes to turn down the corridor that will lead her down into the dungeons when she runs smack into someone for the second time that night. Except this time, it’s much less enjoyable.

“Professor Umbridge! I am so sorry,” Y/N apologizes as she fixes her balance. She may hate the woman, but she’ll be nice to her if it’ll get her out of a detention.

“Oh Ms. Y/L/N it is quite alright,” she practically squeaks while smiling at Y/N. Y/N imagines it’s meant to seem sweet, but it looks more like an evil grin. Umbridge’s eyes suddenly narrow as she looks past Y/N at George. “Mr. Weasley! Out in the corridors past curfew again I see. That’ll be detention with me, Monday and Tuesday evening.”

Y/N can hear George sputter behind her, and she turns around, cringing at the angry look on his face. “What about Y/N?” he asks angrily. “She’s out past curfew as well!”

Umbridge tuts, moving past Y/N as she heads back towards her office. “Yes, but Ms. Y/L/N is Head Girl I’m sure she has a good reason for being out in the halls.” Umbridge puts her hand up to stop George from responding. “Now that is enough out of you, Mr. Weasley. I suggest you head back to your common room before I make your detention a whole week.”

They both watch as Umbridge walks away and when Y/N turns to look at George, he’s already watching her. “I’m really sorry about that, George,” she says quietly.

George scoffs. “Yeah whatever.” He stalks off then, and it takes everything in Y/N to not follow behind him.

-

As Y/N enters the common room her plan is to stalk off to her dorm and get in bed as quick as possible. She’s gone through a whirlwind of emotions over the past few hours and all she wants to do is fall asleep, so she doesn’t have to feel any of them. All of that changes however, since when Y/N finally steps into the common room there is music blaring and people are everywhere.

Y/N makes eye contact with Adrian across the crowd and he clumsily waves her over. She slowly makes her way through the crowd. The air is heavy and hot from all of the people and it smells of firewhiskey. When she finally reaches Adrian, he stumbles over his own feet as he pulls her closer and she notices Marcus is seated on the couch with Daphne sprawled out across his lap; all of her friends are clearly very, very drunk.

“Y/N! You made it!” Daphne yells happily when she notices Y/N’s arrival. She wobbles as she gets out of Marcus’ lap and practically falls into Y/N, giving her a tight hug.

“Someone’s having a good time,” Y/N says with a laugh. Drunk Daphne is one of Y/N’s favorite things, and it’s rare that she gets to see it. Daphne is always prim and proper. She never has a hair out of place and she rarely lets herself goof off with her friends; she’s always their voice of reason. So, when she lets loose, she really goes for it, and it always leaves Y/N in hysterics.

“Where’ve you been? Party started ages ago,” Marcus says slowly, his words slurring together. He grabs Daphne’s hands and tries to pull her into his lap, but they’re both so drunk that they end up falling over, and Daphne somehow ends up on the ground with Marcus on top of her.

Y/N and Adrian burst out in laughter, with Adrian leaning on Y/N for support. His drink sloshes in his hand, and Y/N takes it from him to avoid it spilling everywhere. She eyes his glass warily, trying to decide if she wants to join her friends in drunk land. Her plan had been to sleep away her emotions but drinking them away will work just as well.

“I guess I have some catching up to do then.” Y/N downs the entire glass in one go, her warm bed long forgotten.

A few hours and far too many glasses of Firewhiskey later the party has died down and Y/N is slumped over in the corner of the common room, cradled in a large pile of pillows that Adrian had assembled for her. Daphne and Marcus had disappeared several minutes ago, probably to make out somewhere and once they had Adrian moved from the nearby couch to join Y/N. He’s laying on his back, head in Y/N’s lap as he listens to her complain about George Weasley.

“He’s just so annoying,” she drawls, her words coming out fairly jumbled. Y/N has said the same sentence at least five times in the past 10 minutes, but she’s too drunk to remember or care. She’s been rambling on about George and every mildly annoying this he’s done since the moment they’ve met and she’s having a hard time remembering what she’s already mentioned. “And his face, don’t even get me started on his face.”

When Adrian groans she smacks him on the forehead. “Can’t you talk about something else,” he murmurs. “Anything else, please.”

Y/N smacks him on the forehead again before starting to run her fingers through his hair. It’s his only weakness and she’s hoping it’ll keep him quiet. “There is nothing else to talk about,” she says, her tone condescending. “It’s empty up here, no thoughts,” she giggles, hitting herself lightly in the head with her free hand. “No thoughts, just George Weasley and his face. His pretty, pretty face. And oh god his lips. They look so damn soft. D’you think their soft?”

Adrian hums, not really paying attention to the words coming out of Y/N’s mouth. She’d started to lightly scratch his scalp as she talked, and any ability he had to comprehend the English language disappeared. “Yeah sure, whatever.”

Y/N sighs dreamily, thinking about what it would be like to kiss George. “Bet he’s really good at it,” she muses. “And his hands,” she adds a moment later, practically moaning. “They’re so big and strong. He’s got good fingers too. Bet he knows how to use them.” Y/N rubs her thighs together involuntarily as she feels herself starting to get turned on. Y/N’s eyes start to close as the copious amount of alcohol she drank starts to catch up with her. “You wanna know something funny? I don’t hate George Weasley anymore.”

“Is that so?” Adrian mumbles, starting to drift off as well.

“Mhm,” she hums. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

-

The next morning Y/N is awake far earlier than she’d like to be. Adrian’s elbow was digging into her back, and she tried to ignore it for as long as possible, but eventually she just gave up and pulled herself off of the floor.

Her head is pounding, she feels groggy and she desperately wants to crawl into her bed. But her stomach grumbles loudly and so instead of dragging her body down the staircase that would lead to her dorm, she drags herself towards the portrait hole, still in the clothes she had on yesterday.

When Y/N finally makes it to the Great Hall she practically crawls over to the Slytherin table and plops down in the first open seat. Thankfully it’s still early, so not many people are around and it’s fairly quiet. She starts to grab random food, not really caring what it is. She’s cursing herself for challenging Adrian to a drinking contest as she goes to grab the pitcher of orange juice, but a large hand beats her to it.

“George?” she asks in surprise when she looks up.

He doesn’t say anything as he fills her goblet up for her. He takes a seat across from her and fills his own goblet before he starts to pile eggs on his plate. “Yes?” he answers casually, as if he eats breakfast with Y/N every morning.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N watches George as he begins to eat, her eyes searching his face for some kind of hint of what he’s up to. George shrugs as a light laugh tumbles from his mouth.

“Eating breakfast?” he asks, gesturing to his plate like it’s obvious. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Y/N rolls her eyes playfully, watching as he grabs an apple. She watches as his fingers wrap around it and she practically drools. A tingle runs down her spine as she imagines his fingers wrapping around something else.

“Obviously I can see that you’re eating,” she says a moment later when her thoughts become PG. “I meant what are you doing sitting here. With me. At the Slytherin table.”

George smirks at her. “Why? Do I make you nervous?” His lips wrap around the apple as he takes a bite, and Y/N has to take a bite of her muffin to stop herself from moaning right there in the middle of the Great Hall.

George’s hair is ruffled from sleep, and he looks cozy in the homemade jumper he’s wearing. His eyes are soft, and his lips look even softer. Y/N is dreaming about what it would feel like to lean across the table and kiss him, when she realizes that he asked her a question.

“Not at all,” she says, her voice shaking. “It just isn’t like you, that’s all. Besides last night when you left it seemed like you were angry at me,” she trails off, her voice soft. She looks down at her plate to avoid his gaze.

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N,” George admits sheepishly. Y/N’s skin tingles when he nudges her leg with his foot under the table. She looks up to meet his gaze, instantly returning his warm smile. “It’s not your fault Umbridge is a toad.”

Y/N laughs, completely entranced by George. “I should have said something. Made up an excuse for you.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving away her apology. They both just look at each other, the food on their plates long forgotten. Y/N lets her gaze wander to George’s lips again as she thinks about kissing him. She starts to involuntarily inch closer and to her surprise, George starts doing the same thing.

“Uh, Y/N?”

Y/N and George jump apart, startled by the sudden intrusion. Y/N looks over to see Astoria standing next to her, clearly surprised by what she had just witnessed. Y/N feels her cheeks heating up, and she fidgets in her seat.

“Hey, Astoria. What’s up?” Y/N asks, trying to sound casual, like her best friend’s little sister didn’t just catch her about to kiss George in the middle of the Great Hall.

“Daphne is asking for you. She’s throwing up in the dorm bathroom.”

Y/N rolls her eyes with a huff. “Of course, she is, poor girl can’t handle her alcohol.” She stands suddenly, nodding awkwardly at George. “Weasley,” she says curtly. She gives a wayward glance to Astoria before she heads for the exit, trying to walk as quickly as possible without looking like she’s running away.

-

“And you don’t remember anything?” Y/N questions Adrian as they head up to breakfast on Monday morning. After she fled the Great Hall yesterday morning she’d spent the rest of the day with Daphne going between the bathroom in their dorm and her bed, with Astoria sneaking in food for them. As she sat holding Daphne’s hair back Y/N had a chance to replay the events of Saturday night, and all of the things she had said to Adrian about George became clear to her. She was panicking all night, hoping that he didn’t remember any of what she had said.

Adrian nods. “Not a thing. Last thing I remember is you challenging me to a drinking contest. Everything after that is completely blank. Probably due to the 10 shots we took,” he says with a laugh. “I was so confused when I woke up in the common room.”

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. She’s barely come to terms with the fact that George Weasley is no longer her mortal enemy, but someone she truly cares deeply for, so she is definitely not ready to share that with her friends.

“Why do you care so much? You confess your love for me or something?” Adrian asks as they enter the Great Hall.

Y/N lets her eyes scan the Gryffindor table, a pink blush forming on her cheeks when she spots George. He looks prim and proper in his school robes and his hair is neat. She bites her lip, imagining what it would be like to fuss up his hair with her hands with their bodies pressed together so tightly that their uniforms wrinkled. When George suddenly makes eye contact with her she looks away, bringing her attention back to Adrian.

“Nothing like that,” she insists, shoving him playfully. “I was just rambling on and on. I sounded like an idiot, most of it didn’t even make sense.”

“What didn’t make sense?” Daphne asks as Y/N and Adrian sit across from her and Marcus.  

“The things I rambled on about in Adrian’s ear on Saturday after you two disappeared,” Y/N says with a laugh. She reaches for the orange juice, a small smile appearing on her lips as it reminds her of George.

“Aw you were rambley drunk? How cute. I’m sad I missed it,” Marcus teases.

Y/N throws a grape at him. “If you weren’t so busy sucking face with Daphne, you could have witnessed it.” Marcus and Daphne both blush at that, causing Adrian and Y/N to laugh. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Pucey. You were cuddly drunk. I ran my hand through your hair, and you were practically mewling.”

Adrian blushes and bats at Y/N’s hand as she pinches his cheek. “Thank god I don’t remember that then.”

-

Unlike last week, Y/N spends most of her time on Monday and Tuesday trying to get close to George. She heads to meals a tad earlier than her friends, hoping that he’ll join her briefly. She gets to class early, hoping that he may arrive on his own and they can talk. But every time she tries she either doesn’t happen to run into him or he’s too busy messing around with Fred to notice her presence.

“Oof. Sorry,” Y/N grunts as she runs into someone. One of the Ravenclaw Prefects is sick, so Y/N  volunteered to spend most of her Tuesday night patrolling the halls of the castle. Patrolling was one of her favorite duties as a Prefect, since it gave her time to just be by herself and think. She had let her mind wander to George, and she was in the middle of quite the raunchy daydream.

“What are you doing? Trying to mow me down?” the person asks with a chuckle.

“George, hey,” she greets airily. Y/N takes a step back so she can look up at him, a dopey smile on her face. “What are you doing out here? Kinda late, innit?”

“Maybe I’m here to see you,” he responds, causing Y/N to look away and blush. “I was serving my detention with Umbridge,” he reminds her, gesturing towards the corridor he had just come down.

She glances at her watch before looking back to him. “And she just let you out now? What did she have you do, polish all those weird cat plates?”

George chuckles. “Writing lines, actually.”

“Must have been enough to fill a book with how late it is,” she jokes as they start to walk together. George fidgets beside her, and she gives him a look. “You alright?”

George hums and absentmindedly brings a hand up to run through his hair. Y/N’s eyes widen when she notices the back of his hand is bleeding, and she grabs it before he has a chance to hide it. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbles, trying to pull his hand away.

Y/N tightens her grip, too focused on his injury to think about how perfect his hand feels in hers. “What is this, George? How did this happen?”

George sighs. “Umbridge had me use her special quill to write my lines.”

Y/N ghosts her finger over the wound, giving George an apologetic look when he winces. As she examines the wound she can make out what is it, the wound in his hand spells out ‘I must not break the rules’ in his messy handwriting. A sudden wave of rage washes over Y/N and she releases George’s hand so she can stomp towards Umbridge’s office.

“Y/N what are you doing?” George asks as he follows, though he’s pretty sure he knows that answer.

“I’m going to go give that toad a piece of my mind. That’s how she punishes people. Torture? That’s mental.”

George catches up to her quickly, and he wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling her into his chest. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly against him. She breathes in his scent, wanting to just melt into his embrace. But she resists the urge and struggles against it, desperately trying to get out.

“Let me go, George,” she grumbles, wiggling in his grip.

“Absolutely not, Y/N. What good is yelling at her going to do? All that’s going to do is get you in detention as well and I’m not going to let you do that to yourself.”

Y/N wiggles against his grip for a few more moments before she gives up, her anger deflating. She relaxes in George’s arms and buries her face in his chest. She feels lightheaded as she takes slow, deep breaths, enjoying being this close to George. They stand like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being in each other’s presence, only breaking apart when they hear the door to Umbridge’s office open.

“Shit,” George whispers. He releases Y/N from his grip so he can grab her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Quick, follow me.” George leads them down the hallway and through a few different corridors before he stops in front of a tapestry.

“What are you doing?” she asks as the sound of footsteps echoes through the empty space.

George shushes her, and Y/N watches in amazement as he taps his wand to the tapestry, and it swings to the side, revealing a hole in the wall.

“Woah, this is so cool,” she comments as George pulls her in behind him. The tapestry immediately closes behind them, and George waves his wand so the torches that line the walls light up. “How do you know about this place?”

George shrugs, leaning up against the wall. “Fred and I have explored the entire castle. There isn’t a secret passageway or hidden corridor that we haven’t found.”

They stand there in silence while Y/N looks around the small passageway. She can feel George’s eyes on her and she’s doing everything she can to not return his gaze. Her body feels like it’s on fire, the feeling of George’s grip on her shoulders still fresh in her mind.

“You know if you want to spend time alone with me all you have to do is ask,” she teases a moment later, finally looking at George. She’s leaning on the wall opposite him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She starts to fiddle with a stray string on the bottom hem of her skirt, needing to keep her hands busy to avoid wrapping them around George’s tie to pull him close. “You don’t have to keep pulling me into dark rooms.”

George looks Y/N up and down, a smirk forming on his face. “Is that so? After you practically ran away from me at breakfast on Sunday I didn’t think you’d want to be alone with me.” He sounds confident, but Y/N can tell that there’s an underlying tinge of insecurity in his voice.

Y/N frowns and pushes away from the wall so she can take a small step towards him. “I tried to catch you alone all day yesterday and today,” she says softly. “But every time I tried you were with your stupid brother.”

“Well every time I tried to catch you alone you were with your stupid friends,” he says with a chuckle, copying her frustrated tone. George takes a small step towards her, so there’s only a few feet between them.

“I’m sorry, by the way. For running away from you the other day. Astoria startled me and I panicked,” she pauses, taking another small step forward. They’re standing so close that Y/N can smell him, and her brain goes fuzzy. “I should have stayed,” she admits quietly.

George licks his lips as he takes a final small step forward. They’re now only a few centimeters apart, and he grips Y/N’s hip softly. “What would have happened?” His eyes flick down to Y/N’s lips before meeting hers again. “If you had stayed, what would have happened?”

Y/N can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her face is warm. “I. I would have.”

But she doesn’t get to finish her sentence. George leans down and presses their lips together, kissing her sweetly as his other hand comes up to rest on her neck. Y/N feels lightheaded as her lips start to move with George’s, her arms winding around his neck. George backs them up as he deepens the kiss, pressing Y/N up against the wall. She moans as her back hits the hard stone, allowing George to lick into her mouth.

“I would have done that,” she finishes once George pulls away, her breathing heavy.

George chuckles before kissing her again briefly. “You sound so fucking hot when you moan,” he teases, kissing her again as her cheeks flush pink.

Y/N returns his kiss eagerly, letting her fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck as both his hands come to rest on her hips. Her brain is in overdrive, trying to process everything that’s happening. She wants to commit it all to memory, in case this is the only time it happens. She’s thinking about how good of a kisser he is, and how perfectly their mouths fit together when George pulls away.

“Bet you would sound even hotter moaning my name,” he whispers in her ear, before he starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck.

A soft whine leaves Y/N’s lips as she tilts her head back, giving George more room to kiss. She tugs his hair and the groan he lets out against her neck goes right to her core and arousal starts to blossom in her stomach. His grip on her hips tightens as he begins to suck a mark into her neck. “George,” she moans, her eyes fluttering closed.

Y/N can feel George smirk into her neck before he pulls away and reconnects their lips. He pushes their bodies together tighter, shoving her legs apart with one of his own. She instinctively grinds down against it to get relief from her aching pussy, causing both of them to moan lowly.

“Holy fuck, Y/N,” George growls as he breaks their kiss. He looks over her as she continues to grind against his thigh, in awe of how beautiful she is. Her face is flushed red, her lips are swollen from his kisses and breathy moans are falling from her mouth as her hips move back and forth.

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth to try and contain the noises that are creeping up her throat as she works towards her climax. Her hips move sloppily, giving her clit the perfect amount of friction against George’s muscular thigh. “Fuck,” she breathes and opens her eyes so she can gaze into his, a moan falling from her lips when she sees how dark his eyes are.

George kisses her for a brief moment, his cock starting to harden in his trousers. He craves the feeling of her lips, but the noises coming from her mouth are too intoxicating to cut off. “You look so pretty, darling, getting yourself off on my thigh.”

George’s words only turn Y/N on more and she starts to move her hips faster, desperate for her release. “George,” she moans, tugging on his hair again. “Please, please, George,” she begs.

George presses kisses to Y/N’s jaw as his grip on her hips tightens. He pulls her down harder against his thigh and smirks when she whines loudly. “What do you want darling? Hm?”

“I’m so close,” she gasps. “Please, George. Can I,” her words turn into a moan as George forces her down harder against this thigh again. Y/N can feel her climax approaching and her body feels like it’s on fire. “Please, let me come, George. Please,” she begs breathily.

George’s cock twitches in his trousers and he groans as he realizes what Y/N is begging him for. Permission. “Go on darling, come for me.”

George’s voice is husky, and as soon as the words leave his mouth Y/N’s hips stutter as she reaches her climax, George’s name falling from her mouth. She tugs his hair lightly as she comes, pleasure washing over her like a wave. George rubs her hips and presses open mouthed kisses to her jaw and neck as her hips start to slow down.

“Oh my god,” Y/N pants, resting her forehead against George’s shoulder. Her legs feel like jelly and a moan falls from her mouth when she shifts on George’s thigh and her sensitive clit rubs against her panties.

George laughs lightly and brings a hand up to stroke Y/N’s hair. “That was so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple. He removes his leg from between hers but keeps a tight grip on her hip to make sure she’s steady. “Like really fucking hot, Y/N. Holy shit.”

Y/N buries her face in George’s neck, pressing a few light kisses to his skin. “No, it was embarrassing,” she mumbles. She’d never felt the need to ask for permission to come with any of the other people she’d been intimate with, but there was something about George. Y/N felt comfortable with him, she felt safe enough to let her walls down; to be completely vulnerable to him.

“Hey, look at me,” he says softly. George waits for Y/N to pick her head up and look up at him before he continues. “You will never have anything to be embarrassed about with me. Ever.”

Instead of responding, Y/N kisses him desperately and reaches down to palm his hardening erection through his trousers. George groans into the kiss, his hips automatically rolling to meet her movements. Her lips start to kiss across his jaw and down George’s neck, nibbling lightly.

Y/N pauses her kissing so she can lean up and whisper into George’s ear. “Your turn,” she teases. George curses softly as she removes her hand from his crotch, and she places a quick kiss on his lips before she pushes him away slightly. Y/N slowly sinks down to her knees and starts to work at the button of George’s trousers.

“God you are gorgeous,” he says dreamily as he tangles his fingers in her hair.

Y/N can feel the blush creeping up her face as she undoes George’s trousers. She looks up at him as she pulls his trousers and boxers down together just enough to free his cock. Y/N slowly wraps her hand around the base of his cock, a smirk forming on her face when he groans.

George’s grip on her hair tightens as Y/N begins to slowly stroke him. “Merlin that feels good,” George moans, causing Y/N to increase her pace.

She leans forward and takes him into her mouth, her hand continuing to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. George is quite well endowed, and Y/N rubs her thighs together as she starts to bob her head, imaging what he’d feel like inside her.

“Such a good girl. Sucking my cock so well,” George praises. His breathing starts to get heavier as Y/N’s tongue starts to swirl around his sensitive head and when she looks up at him he has to look away to avoid coming right then and there. Y/N looks absolutely sinful with her lips wrapped around his cock, and George is sure that image will be imprinted in his brain forever.

George’s grunts echo throughout the passageway as Y/N starts to move faster, wanting George to fill her mouth with his release. She takes him down even further, gagging slightly when the tip of his cock hits the back of her throat. George uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to help guide her head, his hips starting to slowly meet her movement.

Y/N hums in approval and pulls her head off of his cock for a moment to catch her breath. She strokes him with her hand for a moment, her thumb circling his sensitive head. “Fuck my mouth George, please,” she begs, before swallowing him down again.

“Such a dirty girl aren’t you Y/N?” he teases as he wraps his hand in her hair, gripping it tightly. “Such a slut for my cock already, hm?” He lets out a groan as he starts to move her head on his cock, his hips meeting each stroke. “Fuck, darling. Your mouth feels amazing,” he moans, starting to fuck her mouth faster. “Good girl,” he praises as she gags around him.

Y/N can’t help but slip her hand under her skirt and into her panties, letting her index and middle finger toy with her clit. George’s cock is heavy against her tongue and his dirty words are sending shivers down her spine and into her core. She’s still sensitive from her previous orgasm, and she moans around George’s cock as drool drips down her chin. She starts to work her clit faster, her second orgasm quickly approaching.

“Getting close, darling,” he grunts. “Gonna shoot my load right into your pretty little mouth.” George watches as Y/N squirms, a wicked grin forming on his mouth. “Are you touching yourself darling?” A shiver runs down his spine and he slams his cock into the back of her throat harder when she hums around him. “Such a dirty little girl you are, Y/N.” His tone is patronizing, and it only turns Y/N on more. “Love having my cock in your mouth that much, hm?”

Y/N whines around his cock, her hips moving in time with her finger’s movements on her clit. She brings her free hand up under her shirt and bra so she can massage her breast, her fingers pinching her nipple. Her climax is building rapidly, and Y/N looks up at George her eyes full of arousal and desperation.

George bites his lip as he looks down at Y/N, knowing exactly what she needs. His strokes become shallow as his own orgasm approaches, a low moan falling from his lips. “Go on, darling. Be a good girl and come for me.”

Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, her second orgasm even stronger than the first. Her lips clamp down around George’ cock even tighter, bringing him to his climax as well. He pulls her hair as he empties himself into Y/N’s mouth, her name spilling from his mouth in hard pants. She continues to toy with her clit lightly as aftershocks of pleasure continue to roll through her body.

George loosens his grip on her hair as he slowly pulls out, his mouth running dry as saliva and some of his cum dribble down Y/N’s chin. He watches as she swallows his release, his cock twitching at the sight. He tucks his cock back into his trousers, wincing as the head brushes up against the fabric. Y/N looks up at him as she wipes the drool from her chin, looking far too innocent after what just happened. Her lips are red and swollen, almost begging for him to kiss her.

He releases her hair and helps Y/N to her feet. His arms wrap around her waist and he brings their lips together. They kiss slowly and messily, both of them too tired to care. George licks into her mouth, not caring that he can taste himself on her tongue. They stand there kissing for a few minutes, only breaking apart when the need for air becomes too much.

“You think the coast is clear?” Y/N asks with a giggle, her voice hoarse.

George chuckles and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I certainly hope so, because I’m absolutely knackered and if I have to spend another minute in here with you after what just happened I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

-

Wednesday morning arrives far too quickly for Y/N’s liking. She had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but when Daphne starts to shake her awake it feels like she hadn’t even slept at all.

“Five more minutes, mum, “ she groans. Her throat feels raw and Y/N can’t help but blush as the memories of last night run through her mind. She had wanted to confess everything to George as they snuck out of the passageway, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.  As they stepped out into the empty hallway the haze of sexual tension around them broke, and when George headed off back to his dorm with nothing more than a wink and a kiss on the cheek Y/N’s stomach sank.

Y/N had felt nothing but pure joy after her and George’s activities and her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. She knew that she was in love with him, and after he had been so tender with her she was sure that he returned her feelings. But after he left her behind so quickly, she couldn’t help but think it had all been in her head.

“Five more minutes will turn to 10, which will turn into you missing breakfast. And you know how you get when you’re hungry, so get your ass out of bed,” Daphne scolds lightly.

Y/N groans but rolls out of bed, her heart heavy and her knees aching.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Daphne whispers to Y/N as they enter the Great Hall, gesturing towards Fred and George.

Y/N allows herself to look quickly, her heart rate increasing as her eyes pass over George. Memories of last night swim to the surface, and she swallows hard, willing them away. The twins have their heads together and they’re talking feverishly, clearly up to something. “Dunno really,” she answers, tearing her gaze away. “Probably planning their next prank or something.” Y/N and Daphne sit down with Adrian and Marcus and she grabs some toast, not really feeling up to eating.  

“So, what are you gonna do?” Daphne asks as they start to eat.

Y/N gives her a look. “What am I gonna do about what?”

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Come one, it’s been what, two weeks since the twins have done something to you? They’ve gotta be over there cooking up some grand scheme against you.”

Y/N goes to respond, but she suddenly feels sick as George’s actions over the past few days start to make sense. He wasn’t in love with her, he was trying to embarrass her? Use her? Get information on her for him and Fred to use against her? She wasn’t exactly sure, but her heart sinks into her stomach. Whatever it was it couldn’t be good.

“I think I’m gonna head to Potions early,” she says suddenly, standing up. Adrian, Marcus and Daphne give her a look.

“You haven’t even eaten anything,” Adrian says, trying to pull her back down.

She bats his hand away and gathers her bag. “I’m not really that hungry. I’ll see you guys later.”

Without another word she’s heading out of the Great Hall, her friends and George all casting her back worried glances.

-

Y/N spends all day ignoring George despite his efforts to get her to pay attention to him. He spends all of Potions throwing rolled up pieces of parchment at her back, he tries to pull faces at her all during lunch and he spends most of charms slipping her notes. It had taken all of her willpower not to let him break her down. She’s so desperately in love with him that she’s almost willing to let him break her heart just so she can be close to him again.

“Finally, I’ve been looking for you all evening.”

Y/N doesn’t look up from her Herbology assignment as George takes a seat across from her. Her friends had been giving her worried glances all day, so after a quick dinner she tucked herself away in a corner of the library to avoid the confrontation she’s sure she’d get in the common room. She had figured she’d be safe from George as well, since Y/N is sure she’s never seen him, or Fred enter the library in the seven years they’ve been at school.

“What’s going on with you?” George asks softly when she doesn’t say anything. He’d been looking forward to seeing Y/N in the morning, and after her weird behavior at breakfast he had tried everything to get her attention.

Y/N glances at George quickly before she turns back to her assignment. “I could say the same to you,” she says coldly. When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and puts her quill down, finally looking at George fully. “What were you and Fred talking about this morning? During breakfast.”

George taps his fingers against the table, his eyes starting deeply into Y/N’s. “He was asking me why I got back from my detention so late last night.” His cheeks are flushed pink and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling.

“What did you tell him? Did you tell him how easy I was? How desperate I was for you? How I touched myself? That I asked you for permission to finish?” she sneers, suddenly filled with rage.

George’s jaw practically drops to the table, his eyes widening in shock. “What? Why would I say any of that to him?” George asks, watching as Y/N starts to gather up her things.

“Because last night was just some big joke to you, wasn’t it?” she asks, as if the answer is obvious. “You don’t have feelings for me, you were just trying to get me into bed so you could have blackmail material or something. And I fell for it. Because I’m a big dumb idiot who is too in love to realize when she’s being played.”

Before George can even process what Y/N has just said she’s gone, tears streaming down her face and her heart broken in her chest.

-

“What’s wrong Y/N?” Daphne asks, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

She isn’t completely surprised that Daphne had come to find her. When Y/N returned from the library, she was full on crying. She had ignored her friend’s attempts to talk to her and stormed right to her dorm room so she could crawl into her bed and sob. Daphne starts to stroke her hair, and Y/N wipes away some of her tears.

“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N mumbles into her pillow.

Daphne’s hand pauses. “Come again?”

“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N huffs, turning over so she’s facing Daphne. Her whole-body tenses, waiting for Daphne to laugh or make some kind of snide comment. But it doesn’t happen. Instead Daphne starts to stroke her hair again as she wipes away some of her tears.

“Honestly that’d make me cry as well,” she says with a laugh, trying to get Y/N to smile. When it works and Y/N cracks a small smile Daphne continues. “So, what happened? Did he say something rude? Because if he did I swear to you I’ll have Adrian and Marcus break into Gryffindor tower and beat him up.”

Y/N can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. She sits up in bed, wiping away the last few tears. “I ran into him last night when I was doing my rounds. And Umbridge almost caught us so we ran and hid in this weird secret passageway and um,” she pauses, swallowing thickly. “We kissed. And fooled around a little. Or a lot.”

“And that’s why you’re crying? Was it bad? Did you fake your orgasm?” Daphne teases.

Y/N rolls her eyes as a blush starts to form on her cheeks. “No, that’s not it. It was quite enjoyable I’ll have you know,” she says playfully, shoving Daphne’s shoulder lightly. “It was what happened afterward.”

“He said something stupid, didn’t he? My offer still stands, I will have Adrian and Marcus go beat him up,” Daphne says her tone serious.

“He didn’t really say anything,” Y/N explains, choosing to ignore Daphne’s threats for now. “But you said it yourself this morning at breakfast. He was talking with Fred, probably planning some prank on me.” Y/N pauses to swallow the lump in her throat and blink away the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. “It was all probably just some prank or set up or blackmail or something. I mean why would he wanna be with me,” she says lamely, looking down at her hands.

Daphne scoffs and puts her finger under Y/N’s chin, forcing her to return her gaze. “If George Weasley doesn’t want to be with you then he is a big fat idiot. Y/N you are amazing. And beautiful and smart and way too nice for your own good. You may have questionable taste in men, but I’ve been snogging Marcus since third year so I’m not really one to judge.”

Y/N laughs and pulls Daphne into a hug. Her heart still aches for George, but she feels a tiny bit better knowing that she has Daphne on her side.

-

Despite the fact that Y/N has been ignoring George all day, she finds herself heading to the Room of Requirement on Wednesday evening for a DA meeting. There are nervous butterflies in her stomach as she approaches but she doesn’t turn back. The DA is one of the only good things she’s had going on this year, and she’ll be damned if she lets George Weasley ruin that for her. Y/N had felt his eyes on her all day, and she hates to admit that it made her feel lightheaded.

She stops outside of the room of requirement to collect herself. Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to clear the thoughts of George from her mind. She’s semi-successful and she holds her head high as she throws the door open and steps inside.

“What the fuck?” she says, her eyes wandering around the room as the door shuts behind her.  Y/N had certainly not been expecting the scene around her when she walked in. The room is dimly lit, with most of the lighting coming from candles that are floating around the room. There’s no furniture or practice dummies in sight, and the only other person in the room is George. He’s standing smack in the middle of the room watching her, a small smile on his face.

“I couldn’t think of any other way to get you alone,” he says after a moment, reaching a hand out towards Y/N. “So, I had Hermione send an alert out to your Galleon and hoped that you would show up.”

Y/N walks further into the room cautiously, still unsure as to what exactly is going on. She stands a few feet away from George, resisting the urge to take his hand and fall into his chest. “Okay but why?.” She pauses, her eyes scanning the room again. “If this is some kind of elaborate set up and Fred is about to jump out of somewhere I swear to Merlin George I will kill you.”

George chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step towards Y/N. When she doesn’t flinch, he takes another one. “I promise you; Y/N. Fred is nowhere near here.” He bites his lip, looking at Y/N closely. “This is just me, desperately trying to fix whatever mess I got us into.” When she doesn’t say anything George continues, needing to fill the awkward silence of the room. “Tuesday night was incredible. Best night of my life, hands down. I thought, I thought things would be different with us, afterwards. But then you didn’t even look at me all day yesterday and last night in the library that stuff you said,” he cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I clearly did something wrong, but I’ve spent the past 24 hours thinking about everything I did, and I can’t seem to figure it out.”

“You didn’t say anything,” she says quietly after she lets George’s words soak in. When George raises his eyebrow in confusion she sighs. “On Tuesday, after everything that happened,” she clears her throat, trying to will the blush on her cheeks away. “When we were leaving you didn’t say anything. You just kind of left. I thought that it was just a one-time thing, that it didn’t mean the same to you as it did to me,” she admits quietly.

Y/N lets her eyes wander around the room, needing to look anywhere except for George’s face. Y/N likes to keep walls up around herself. She makes exceptions for her friends and her parents, the people she loves, but she keeps them up around others. She doesn’t like to show weakness, she doesn’t want to give people the opportunity to hurt her. On Tuesday Y/N had let all of those walls crumble to the ground the second George had kissed her and it felt incredible. She felt like she could truly be herself around him, and as much as she wishes she could build those walls up around her again it’s too late. Y/N has no choice but to stand here in this room and let George in.

“And then I just got all in my head,” she continues a moment later, finally letting herself look at George. Her heart is fluttering, and she can’t help but notice how good he looks. “When I went to breakfast that morning and you were whispering with Fred it looked like you guys were plotting something, like a prank or something. And it made me think that Tuesday was just some stupid prank. That you were gonna use the things I said against me, to embarrass me or something,” she mutters.

“Darling,” George starts, taking the last few steps to close the distance between them. He cups her cheek with one hand while the other reaches for one of hers. Y/N lets him grab her hand, and he intertwines their fingers. “I should have said something that night. There was so many things I wanted to say. But I didn’t want to overwhelm you. After that night we spent in detention I started to feel differently towards you. I knew you felt something too, but I wasn’t sure if you had realized it yet or not. So, when we left the passageway that night I wanted to give you time, to process everything.”

“I feel like such an idiot,” Y/N admits with a small smile. “I should have just said something instead of letting myself overthink it. I don’t like letting people in. But for some reason when I’m around you I can’t help but let you in. That night in detention I told you things not even Daphne knows. And then Tuesday, some of the things I said, I did,” she cuts herself off, a shiver running down her spine. “I’ve never let anyone see that side of me before and yet a few kisses from you had me blubbering like an idiot.”

“Blubbering like a wicked sexy idiot, darling,” George teases with a chuckle. He leans down and kisses her briefly. “I’m sorry, for not being clearer with my intentions.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a warm smile on her face. “And what are those intentions?”

Her eyes flutter closed as George kisses her deeply, both of his hands landing on her bum, giving it a tight squeeze. She moans into the kiss and lets George’s tongue in to explore her mouth. She wraps her arms around George’s neck and pulls him flush to her body. George pulls away suddenly, with Y/N trying to chase his mouth.

George chuckles when she pouts at him. “To answer your question, darling. First, I’m going to fuck you into the mattress over there like the dirty little girl you are.” George pauses, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s lips as a shiver runs down her spine. “And then I’m going to hold you close and whisper how much I love you into your ear.”

Y/N pulls George’s face down and presses their lips together hotly, kissing him desperately. She jumps up, her legs wrapping around his waist and his hands gripping her bum tightly. George carries her over to the bed that had appeared at some point in the past few minutes and throws her down on it. He loosens his tie and throws it off over his head and starts to work on the buttons of his shirt. Y/N watches his fingers move, practically drooling as his pale chest becomes more and more exposed to her.

“What are you waiting for? Permission,” George teases, his voice gravelly and his eyes dark. “Get naked,” he demands a moment later when she still doesn’t move. “Let me see all of you.”

George’s voice causes goosebumps to appear all over Y/N’s body and her core starts to ache. She can already feel herself getting wet, and the way George is looking at her as she rids herself of her clothes is only making it worse.

In a matter of moments, they’re both naked, and Y/N can feel her skin flushing under George’s gaze. He’s standing by the edge of the bed, slowly stroking himself as his eyes run over her naked body. Her body is aching for his touch, and she squirms under his intense gaze. “Please, George,” she moans, one of her hands coming up to toy with her breasts.

In an instant George is on top of her, kissing her messily as his hands touch every inch of skin they can. He bats away the hand that’s palming her breast so he can take over, his fingers starting to toy with her sensitive nipple. Y/N moans into George’s mouth, arching her back to press herself up into him harder. George practically growls at her actions and his other hand grabs her left thigh, forcing her legs apart.

“What do you want, darling?” he asks hotly, his lips trailing kisses down her neck. “My fingers?” He releases her thigh and starts to ghost his fingers up her it towards her folds. “My mouth?” He latches onto her neck and starts to lightly suck, causing a sinful whine to leave her lips.

Y/N tangles her fingers in George’s hair, tugging lightly as she squirms under his touch. “Both, please,” she begs, her breath coming out in hard pants. George’s fingers have finally reached her core, and his index finger has started to slowly circle her clit.

“Both, hm? What a needy little girl you’re being, Y/N,” he chides, his mouth continuing to trail kisses down her neck and over her chest. “But how can I say no? Not when you’re being such a good girl and asking so nicely.”

Y/N moans. George’s thumb has started to rub soft circles on her clit while his mouth wraps around her breast, sucking her nipple lightly. When George had called her a good girl at the beginning of term it had filled her with rage, but now as he slowly pushes his index finger inside of her tight walls she thinks she could come just from him calling her that alone.

“Fuck, George,” she whines, clenching around his finger as he curls it inside of her. She can feel his smirk as he kisses down her stomach. Her hips start to move off of the bed as he starts to slowly fuck her with his finger. His free hand flies to her hip and pins it down against the bed.

“Don’t be so impatient, darling. I’m going to take my time with you,” he scolds. He pulls his finger out slowly, and when he pushes it back in another has joined it, causing Y/N to gasp. “You sound so pretty, darling. Such pretty noises,” he praises.

George moves down the bed as his lips ghost over her hip so he can position himself better for what’s about to happen. He stops his movements on her pussy suddenly, causing Y/N to whine at the loss. He grabs her thighs and pushes them farther apart, so she’s spread open for him. “Such a pretty pussy you have, darling,” he groans, his eyes gazing over her dripping folds. Y/N tries to shut her legs, but George’s grip tightens on her thighs, keeping them open. “Don’t be shy, darling,” he teases.

Y/N is writhing in George’s grasp, one hand is toying with her nipples while the other grips the bed sheets. “George, please,” she begs again, needing him to touch her. George chuckles and suddenly his mouth is on her, lightly sucking on her clit. “Oh fuck,” she shouts, her hand leaving her breast to tangle in George’s hair.

George’s tongue starts to tease Y/N’s clit, wrapping around the bud slowly before pulling away and coming to lightly flick at it. He wraps his arm around her left thigh as she begins to move her hips, forcing her back down against the bed. “Gonna need to get some rope to tie you up, keep you nice and open for me,” he murmurs before putting his mouth back on her aching core.

“Holy fuck, George,” Y/N moans as he suddenly plunges two fingers into her heat. She can’t help the sounds that are coming out of her mouth as George pleasures her, images of George tying her up floating in her mind. George hums in laughter as his fingers curl and brush up against Y/N’s sweet spot, causing her to moan again.

Y/N can feel her orgasm approaching, can feel the arousal building in her stomach. She wiggles her hips, trying to move away from George, and a squeal falls from her mouth when he pulls her even closer to his face. She grips his hair tightly and her toes curl as her orgasm approaches. Y/N yanks the sheets hard, her mouth opening and shutting unable to form a coherent thought due to George’s relentless pleasure.

“George please,” she sobs, her eyes screwing shut from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Her legs are shaking as George licks at her core, his fingers hitting the spot inside her that drives her crazy with every thrust. “I need you. I need you to, George, please,” she begs. She’s teetering on the edge of her release, just needing that one final push that only George can provide.

“Need me to what, darling?” he asks coyly as he pulls his face away from her pussy. His thumb takes over the assault on her clit his tongue had been doing before, starting to rub it in hard circles.

“Please,” she begs again, tears starting to leak out the side of her eyes. Y/N has never been this turned on in her life. Her body is trembling, her need for release overwhelming every part of her.

George presses a few kisses to the hot skin on the inside of her thigh to hide his smile. Y/N looks absolutely ethereal as she wriggles in his grasp, begging him to let her come. Her hair is splayed out on the pillow behind her, and her neck looks like it’s begging to be bit. Her whole body is flushed, and a sheen of sweat has appeared over her skin.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” he compliments as he situates himself on top of her again. He leans on his forearm and presses their lips together briefly. “Such a good girl, darling. Go on be a good girl, come for me.”

George kisses her again as she comes, groaning as her walls tighten around his fingers. Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, and George continues to slowly rub her clit as she comes down from her high. With one final curl of his fingers he removes them from her heat.

“You are a goddess,” he murmurs against her lips before he pulls away.

Y/N opens her eyes, smiling up at George. “And you’re a bloody fucking tease.”

George laughs and rolls onto his back, his arm winding around Y/N’s waist to pull her on top of him. Y/N giggles in delight, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. She lets her hand trail along his chest as they kiss, pausing as she reaches his groin. “Now see if I really was a good girl,” she mocks her fingertips dancing on the skin just above the base of his cock. “I’d touch you but.” She sighs and brings her hand back up to rest on George’s chest. “I’m feeling kinda naughty.”

“Bold tactic for a girl who was just begging me to let her come a few seconds ago,” George responds playfully, leaning up to press their lips together again. Y/N squeals when George pulls her fully on top of him so she’s straddling his waist. “I know I said I was gonna fuck you into the mattress but,” he says with a sigh when he breaks their kiss. “I don’t know if naughty girls deserve my cock.”

Despite the fact that she had just come a few seconds ago, Y/N’s pussy is aching again. She pouts down at George, rolling her hips. A satisfied smirk appears on her face when he groans. “What if I promise to be a good girl?”

George rolls them over so she’s underneath him. “I think I can make an exception.” Y/N laughs as George kisses her and winds her legs around his waist. George lines himself up with her entrance, breaking their kiss so he can look at her. “Ready?” When Y/N nods George pushes his hips forward and slowly enters Y/N.

“Oh my god, George,” she gasps as her hands come up to grip his shoulders. George doesn’t stop until his hips are flush against Y/N’s bum.

“Fucking hell you’re tight, Y/N,” he groans, burying his face in her neck. He lets out another groan as Y/N’s walls clench around him.

“Fuck me George, please,” she demands, squeezing his shoulders.

George chuckles into her neck and pulls out of her halfway before he slams back in, starting to slowly fuck her. “Since you asked so nicely,” he teases, pressing an open mouth kiss to her jaw.

For a few minutes all the noise that can be heard is Y/N and George’s combined moans as well as skin slapping on skin. George grabs Y/N’s leg and throws it over his shoulder so he can fuck into her deeper and the head of his cock is now rubbing her sweet spot with every thrust.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N moans, scratching her nails down George’s back. “Feels so good, George. ‘M already close.”

“Fuck me too,” he growls, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You feel so fucking good, darling.” He presses a few kisses into the skin below her ear. “Go on, darling. Come for me when you’re ready. Didn’t even need to touch your little clit, did I? Such a good girl, coming from just my cock.”

George’s words tip Y/N over the edge and she throws her head back, George’s name falling from her mouth. Her walls tighten and twitch around George, causing him to reach his climax as well. He empties himself inside of Y/N, his hips slowly rolling into her to help them both come down from their highs.

Once George’s cock has stopped twitching and Y/N’s breathing starts to slow down, George carefully pulls out of her and collapses on the bed next to her. George opens up his arm and Y/N rolls into his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She peppers soft kisses to the sweaty skin as George starts to rub her back.

“It’s not fair, you know,” George says as Y/N trails a few kisses up his neck and across his jaw.

Y/N pecks his lips softly. “What’s not fair?” she asks with a chuckle.

George pouts at her and she kisses him briefly again. “Every time we get intimate you get to come twice, and I only get to come once. That’s totally not fair.”

Y/N laughs and buries her face in George’s neck again. “Well maybe if you were a good boy I’d let you come more than once,” she teases.

George’s fingers dig into Y/N’s side as he holds her in place, tickling her mercilessly. Y/N shrieks with laughter, desperately trying to wiggle away from George’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. George tickles her for another moment before he stops, one of his hands resting on the small of Y/N’s back and the other grabs hers.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Y/N looks up at him and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I love you too.”

-

The next morning as Y/N drags George over to the Slytherin table for breakfast she can hear Ginny shouting at Ron.

“I told you, you absolute numpty! You owe me a Galleon!”

[hardskz]

a penny for your thoughts.

pairing — han jisung x female! reader

genre — trope inversion of the soulmate au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff-ish, smut; oral, possessiveness kink, praise kink, safe word, size kink, first time

synopsis — life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend. alternatively, jisung can hear all of your unfiltered thoughts and has heard enough of your horny fantasies to the point where he wants to throw up, so he takes matters in his own hands. 

note — i think i’m gonna cry this work is my 11k word BABY i’ve never been THIS invested over a fic. this is purely self-indulgent and an emotional rollercoaster ride if you ask me. this fic is all over the place it’s chaotic and i apologize in advance for many italics you are welcome i hope you CRY and SUFFER with me because completing this bitch was a midlife crisis in itself. that being said, i appreciate any form of constructive criticism so pls go ahead and rip my baby apart sdkjl

“You’re staring again,” Hyunjin notes. Seungmin and Jeongin stifle a burst of laughter while Felix, whose head is resting on Hyunjin’s lap, sends you a look that resembles Candace from Phineas and Ferb whenever she finds her brothers creating some whacky futuristic shit, laughs like a madman and then resumes to call her mother with an ear-splitting MOOOM! because she’s so certain that her brothers are busted this time.

“Am not,” you huff as you tear your eyes away from the guy just sitting a little bit farther away from you, basking in the warm glow of the sun. Today he’s sitting in the perfect angle, giving you the best view on his side profile. His signature cap is perched right on top of his head but even then, you can see how his eyes brighten up and how the corners of his lips tug upwards as he laughs at his friend’s joke.

“You’re a worse case than the Mary Sue protagonist of every romance anime ever.” Seungmin snorts before he playfully nudges your side with his shoe. “Just say you want Seo Changbin to bang you and go.”

“Hey! We have a child present!” Hyunjin chastises, to which Jeongin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a child. We’re all in fucking college.”

“Fine, not a child then. The baby has been corrupted! Don’t swear, it sounds so wrong coming from you!”

“Shut up. It’s called freedom of speech!”

“It’s ‘shut up Hyung’ to you!”

Felix groans in distress and is probably rethinking his life choices. Seriously, what does Felix, resident hopeless romantic, see in Hyunjin? Sure, he’s good-looking and a great friend when he’s not bitching around or hovering over the nearest trash can after taking too many shots. But a romantic? Please, Hyunjin can’t even eat without making a mess out of his shirt.

“I don’t want him to bang me,” you mutter and receive a collective ‘yeah sure’ look. “Fine, I don’t want him to bang me only. He’s nice,” you retort before your eyes flit back to him for a millisecond. By now, Changbin has put his hands on the grass and is leaning back, enjoying the sunlight while listening halfheartedly to the other guy blabbering.

“And hot. We get it. Now get dicked,” Seungmin deadpans, earning flabbergasted looks from everyone and a smack from Hyunjin.

“Show a little more empathy, you dickwad. She’s whipped.”

“Anyway—“ Felix sits up, earning a pout from Hyunjin but he blatantly ignores it, and directs the conversation back to the previous topic before the other two bump heads, “(y/n), you have his number. You’re not strangers, so why don’t you just make a move?”

You glance at him with horror in your eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Ring him up and ask him to hang out with me because I find him cute?”

“Uh, duh? Last time I checked, that’s how you ask someone out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“New idea.” Seungmin butts in. “Why don’t you ask Han Jisung—“

“No.”

“Agreed.” Hyunjin shoots you a nod of approval before Seungmin can start yet another interrogation about your bitter hatred towards Jisung. Jisung, who happens to be said friend of Changbin that is laughing beside him right now. “He must think he’s so much better than us because he’s hanging out with the senior geniuses of the music production major. Then again, Seo Changbin and Bang Chan are on a different level than us commoners.”

“Speaking of Chan,” you quickly say to steer the conversation away from the personification of everything you hate. “Where is he? It’s so weird seeing the trio incomplete.”

This time, Jeongin chimes in. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Chan and that one language major — you know, the one who collapsed a while back?” When all he’s met with are clueless faces, Jeongin sighs. “Seriously, you guys should keep up with campus news. I swear, everyone and their mothers already know by now. But anyway, they’re soulmates. It’s also the reason why Chan has been pulled out of the boxing team until the end of the semester and had to cancel their training camp as soon as she broke down.”

Felix does a double-take. “But Chan’s the ace of the boxing club!”

“It is what it is.” Jeongin stretches his legs out, shrugging. “What else is to expect when you have the proximity link and need to be around your soulmate within a certain distance unless you want death?”

“Poor guy. Must be a smack in the face for him, now that he’s got a soulmate and happens to have the worst link one could have.” Seungmin says.

“The tattoos are worse though.” Hyunjin fires back. “I mean, you’re literally born with a tattoo of your soulmate’s name and then grow up knowing that you have one? And even if you never meet them, you won’t have better chances with others if you want some romance. Who in their right mind wants to have a lover who’s got someone else’s name tattooed on them since birth?”

“No one.” You chuckle. “Absolutely no one.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you and Jisung would probably be on better terms. He’s sunshine on legs and looks decent from an objective point of view.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe you’re childhood friends and have been neighbors ever since your first shit in your diapers. Perhaps you would be clowned from being inseparable once in a while, but you’d go with it and then shrug it off as if it was nothing.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe that being soulmates doesn’t equal the downfall of two people. Sure, the fact that people are bound to each other and the danger of growing too dependent on that person remains, but it probably won’t be so frowned upon. Probably. Hopefully.

However, as much as you want to twist it, another lifetime is not this lifetime, the reality.

In reality, you and Jisung are only neighbors because the universe has some kind of inexplicable hatred towards you. Seriously, you must’ve done something wrong in your previous life to be punished in this one. And because the universe has sadistic tendencies and loves to make you suffer, the laws of the universe are just as equally fucked up.

The concept of soulmates is a lot of things, but most of all, it’s a mystery. There are endless possibilities for soulmate links, not all of them discovered. And unlike popular belief, soulmates do not have to necessarily share the same link. So voilà, even more fuckery from the universe.

There’s only one reason that justifies your wholehearted, unfiltered hatred towards Han Jisung. Well, only one reason that seems justified in this lifetime.

The tattoo is simple; just fine black characters under your collarbone that are nicely hidden under high-cut shirts.

But the fact that it’s his name tattooed on you since birth remains.

“Let me crash here for the night.”

“No.”

“Let me crash here for the night, please.”

“My answer is still no.”

The exasperation is plastered on Jisung’s face as he tries to keep his temper in check. Truth be told, it’s damn satisfying seeing him wanting to rip your head off but refraining to do so. Perhaps you’re enjoying this more than you expected at one o’clock in the morning. For the past five minutes, Jisung has been asking you to let him stay over for the night. You’d save him out of his misery and help a neighbor out who locked himself out of his apartment at this hour — well, if he wasn’t Han Jisung.

By now, he’s growing more impatient with every further rejection. “Oh come on, all my friends live on the other side of town and you can’t expect me to ask the old grandma next door! At this rate, I’m gonna freeze to death overnight!”

“Then go break a window or something,” you deadpan, ignoring the dramatic hand gestures he’s making to accentuate his words.

“The fuck? I’m not going to break into my own place.”

Not wanting to draw out the pointless conversation any longer, you’re about to slam the door shut when he blocks your action with his foot. “C’mon, just this one night. Please.”

He’s not budging anytime soon. His bullheadedness reminds you of Seungmin, who always tries to get Hyunjin wasted whenever you attend those Greek frat parties. Seungmin, who always succeeds in getting Hyunjin wasted, followed by Hyunjin hugging a bucket for the next few hours as he tries to get over the hangover. With a defeated sigh, you gesture Jisung to come inside and don’t wait for him until he’s taken his shoes off at the entryway.

“Look, I know you don’t like me—“

“Well, ‘don’t like’ is putting it very lightly—” you scoff once he’s caught up to you in the living room. It’s not exactly spacious; the couch takes up most of the room and college assignments are spread all over the minuscule coffee table.

“You could at least treat me like a decent human being.”

That statement is enough to get your ears flaming. You whip your head in his direction, voice getting louder. “How can I when your existence is making my life worse than it already is! And I mean it literally! Just seeing your name whenever I look at myself through the mirror sickens me!”

“Stop acting like you’re the only victim here.” Jisung snaps back in the same manner. If there was a little bit of etiquette in the first place, it has all vanished now. “I’m not having it easier when all I hear from you is the dozen ways you want Changbin to fuck you dumb!”

You freeze.

“Cat got your tongue? It’s already bad enough that you have those kinds of thoughts about my best friend every single day.”

“But I thought— y-you had the proximity link?!” This has to be a joke. A very bad one at that. His proximity link is the very sole reason why you lived next to him. His soulmate link is the only reason why you’ve been stuck together like glue since you could walk.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently, running his hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought too until I started hearing things that nobody said around me. First, it was just a few thoughts every other day, but now you’re like an annoying radio that I can’t switch off.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? I would’ve—“

“Stopped fantasizing about Changbin’s dick? And then you would’ve jumped to the next person. I don’t care if you like him or not, it’s none of my business. Changbin’s hot, anyone with eyes can tell. Besides, it’s not like you have a chance anyway…”

You feel your blood boiling at his underlying message and cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jisung doesn’t bat an eyelash and says in a mocking tone as if stating the obvious. “No doubt that Changbin will make you feel good. But could you return the favor?”

That’s a low blow. Even for Jisung, that’s a low blow.

“I get that you’ve got a dirty mind. But those are just fantasies. Could you really execute them just the way you had in your head? You don’t even have experience in the first place.”

“If I sucked you off right now, you wouldn’t even be able to speak properly!” God knows what went over you when you countered. At this point, rage has taken over your brain and you don’t even realize what you just said right away. Not that it matters anyway; all you see is red.

Jisung just raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “Prove it,” he challenges casually and then flops himself onto the couch, legs spread wide. It’s an open invitation. “Go ahead, make me see reason with your oh so mind-blowing skills.”

The only thing you’re able to do physically is gape at him. He is joking, right? As if he actually means it—

“I knew it. Shameless in your head but too flustered to say it out loud, let alone following up with your bold statements.”

That seals the deal. You’re fuelled by anger and the desire to prove him wrong as you drop on your knees and are on eye level with his crotch. However, your spirit dissolves the longer you silently stare and realize that you have no fucking clue on what to do. Jisung is painfully aware of that too.

“I’m more terrified than turned on seeing your angry face.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before he pulls you up and directs you to sit on his lap. “Obviously it’s not working when neither of us is in the mood. You gotta get in the mood first,” he mutters, hands settling on your hips.

The look in his eyes is more composed now, but you can tell he’s being observant. As if you have clues written all over your face, he keeps you under his stern gaze. Then his eyes droop lower to your lips and he slowly leans forward.

Not even a second later, you firmly plant your hands on his shoulder and push him back. “No lips.”

If Jisung is judgemental about your sudden stunt, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anything else, your royal majesty?”

You’re too tired to react to his mockery and roll your eyes. “No marks.”

“I can work with that,” he mumbles more to himself rather to you. Then he leans forward again and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Surprised by his actions and new to the unfamiliar sensation, you tense up. Jisung seems to take notice of that too.

“Relax,” he orders, rubbing circles on your hips to help you loosen up.

Well, that’s easier said than done. It’s already bad enough that you’re gradually exposing yourself as the complete amateur you are, and out of all people who could’ve been the first to do any form of sexual advances on you, it just had to be Jisung. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rejected that one kid in high school who was the only one who ever had a crush on you. Even if that kid wasn’t your type and not a serious commitment anyway, maybe you would’ve at least some sort of experience with dick.

“A-ah—“ your breath hitches when he nips on the patch below your earlobe. He smiles against your skin as if he just made some scientific discovery and swipes his tongue on the same spot, eager to make you squirm. Not wanting to slip up anymore, you clamp your mouth shut with a hand.

“Let me hear you, baby. Just relax, I got you.” When the fuck did his voice start to sound lower and raspier? Where did ‘baby’ come from? All rationality and resistance leave your body when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

The cologne of musk lingers strong on him, almost intoxicating even, and you can’t form a cohesive thought anymore. The only things you are painfully aware of are an arm forcing your chest flush against his and his hot breath all over your neck.

You’re so far gone that you fail to notice that you’ve started grinding on his lap. Jisung moans softly into your neck as he encourages you to move with his hands.

“On your knees, baby,” he whispers after a while. A rush of disappointment runs through your veins once he detaches his lips from you and slides you off his lap, but all of that is forgotten once you see the prominent bulge in his pants.

Right. There’s a reason why you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Jisung urges you to touch him with a simple nudge. “C’mon, baby. Take it off.”

You don’t waste time discarding his sweatpants. Just when you’re about to tug his underwear off, you notice the wet patch on the fabric. A surge of mischief washes over you as you boldly cupped his hard-on over his boxers, causing an obscenely loud moan from him.

He flinches, definitely not expecting that brashness from you, and throws his head back. “S-stop teasing me already and take that goddamn thing off or God help me what I’m going to do if you push my buttons.”

That. That was a threat. That dealt much more damage to you than you like to admit.

As much as you want to watch him break and see if he’d make his threats come true, you decide against your feelings and hook your fingers under the waistband and tug the fabric down in one swift motion. A groan leaves Jisung as his cock, fully hard and leaking precum, is exposed to the cold air. He’s certainly above average; on the longer side probably, and you’re conflicted on whether to think fuck, I want him in my mouth right now or fuck, how on earth is that supposed to fit into my mouth?!

You don’t get far with your inner conflict when a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and slowly urges you closer. The next thing you know, something is tapping your lips and before you fully register it, the tip of Jisung’s cock lies heavy on your tongue.

You carefully look up and meet Jisung’s hooded eyes. His shirt has ridden up a bit and flashes just a little bit of his toned stomach. That’s just enough of an indicator to see that Jisung is holding himself back, in case his irregular breathing hasn’t been a dead giveaway.

Jisung opens his mouth, about to say something, when you give an experimental suck on his dick. “Do something— f-fuck, a little more, baby.”

That’s enough to build your confidence up. You slowly take in more of his dick, sucking carefully and making sure to cover your teeth. The rest that doesn’t fit in your mouth is barely covered with your hands, and you messily try to coordinate your hands, switching between rubbing the base of his dick to cupping his balls.

“Mmh, use more pressure,” Jisung whispers, not trusting the stability of his voice when you fondle with his balls. A groan leaves him when you suck harder on his cock and switch back to swirling your tongue around. For a total beginner, you are holding yourself up better than he expected. Fuck.

“Focus on the tip fir— hhh- aa-ah...” His brain blacks out for a moment when you swirl your tongue around his tip and dare an experimental hum, the vibrations going straight down to his dick. The grip on your hair loosens, but it’s still firm enough to experience a sharp tug. “You’re doing good baby. So good.”

The combination of his sounds, the decent taste of precum on your tongue and the way his adam’s apple bops is enough to send you into sensory overload. You notice the way Jisung tenses his thighs, as to keep them still. You’re about to pull out completely to prevent your drool from getting on your face. However, before you get the chance to complain, he forces his length back on you that it grazes the back of your throat, nearly making you choke.

“Fuck, I— I’m gonna— s-soon—“ he hisses and you take it as a sign to speed up. At this point, your jaw hurts and a mixture of drool and precum drips down your chin. It’s borderline disgusting if you think about it, but the delectable sounds leaving Jisung compensates for it.

He sharply tugs on your hair, ordering you to pull off, but you slap his hand away. “I’m going to spill in your mouth if you don’t pull off right now—“ Jisung chokes on his words when you interrupt him with a hum as if to say so what? It doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with teary eyes and a lot of conviction, even though you’re visibly struggling to keep half of his dick in your mouth.

When he cums, it’s accompanied but drawn out moans, and you forcing yourself to swallow the horrible texture. It’s not horrible per se, but you’d gladly refuse to swallow a second time if you were given the choice.

Jisung looks down at you with flushed cheeks and is about to wipe off the drool or cum or whatever liquid is staining your bottom lip, but you quickly block his hand. “I’ll clean up by myself.”

For a minuscule second, he looks defeated; he looks borderline disappointed, but before you can pinpoint his feelings for sure, his expression changes. “But what about you?” he asks, eyes raking down your body and stopping at the waistband of your pants.

“I’ll deal with it on my own.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. All of sudden, you find it hard to breathe in the room as the realization settles into your brain. You just sucked off Jisung. Jisung, out of all fucking people.

“You sure?” Your eyes flit to him who looks like he’s been observing you the entire time. His breathing has calmed down, his lips look a little bit plumper than before and his hair sticks out in all different directions. Looking at his current state makes you feel sick, and your undying hatred for him starts growing again. It’s your fault that he looks so fucked out and—

Why the fuck did you even do that?

“Yes. Now stop asking before I change my mind and kick you out.”

Before he can have the last word, you turn on your heels and rush into your bedroom, ignoring the fact that your underwear is practically drenched.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes emerging from the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast?” Jisung throws you a questioning look and then plates the last batch of pancakes from the pan. “It’s the least I can do after you were friendly enough to let me crash on the couch.”

Your eyes wander to the countertop to the two plates stacked with pancakes. Jisung finishes up the second plate and hands it out to you.

You stare dumbly at the plate. It’s too early for your brain to mouth filter to work, so the first thing you spit out is, “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

“Are you fucking serious—“ Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, mutters something inaudible under his breath before he puts on the fakest smile he can muster. “I can take a bite if you really insist.”

“Give me that plate.” You point to the other plate on the counter. Presentation-wise, it looks the same as the one Jisung is offering you, minus the visible steam.

“There. Wanna switch again or can I finally eat?” he scoffs when you walk past him to get cutlery and sit at the dining table; it’s essentially a round wooden table where one of the legs is about to break. Two plates and a pitcher at most take up the entire surface. You really should consider buying a new table, but you have better things to spend on rather than that.

From your peripheral vision, you see Jisung rolling his eyes. Perhaps you were making an entire unnecessary circus, critically cutting through the pancake and inspecting each and every side before stuffing it in your mouth. But again, in your defense, it’s too early in the morning to show basic etiquette towards him out of all people.

You have to admit that visually, the pancakes look good. What you didn’t expect were the pancakes to taste just how they look. It looks like you couldn’t contain your surprise in you, judging by the amused smirk that finds its way onto Jisung’s face as he claims the chair across from you.

“As if you could actually cook,” you splutter because there’s no fucking way you are giving him that satisfaction of the day.

However, it seems to bemuse him even more. “You literally eat this every day and know the recipe by heart. With the excessive number of times you recite the ingredients a day, obviously, something got stuck in my brain,” he explains while cutting through his own portion.

The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. You both finish at the same time and while you’re washing the dishes, he’s stayed put in the chair, mindlessly checking something on his phone.

“You didn’t have to cook, you know. You could’ve just left.” you start. It’s already awkward enough that he’s still here. Bloody hell, you should’ve just waited with the plates and ushered him out of your place instead of just getting away as fast as possible from the table. Now that you think about it, this was probably the only time you two were somewhat amicable at such proximity. (Even if you didn’t talk at all. Still, it’s progress.)

He drops his phone on the table with a soft ‘bang’. “It’s the least I could do. Besides, I was starving too.”

“In other words, you’re taking advantage of my fridge?”

“Exactly.”

Just as you’re drying your hands, he’s about to leave. “I’ll get going, lecture’s starting in a few. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here.”

You just shoot him a weird look. “You already thanked me once. How often do you wanna repeat yourself?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Fine, next time I’ll just leave without a word then.”

It’s when he’s finally out of the door that his last words sink in.

“Yo, I have pics of sweaty Changbin in a jersey. How much do you wanna pay for those gems?”

You nearly choke on air. “What the fuck?” Really, that’s the only appropriate reaction.

“Hyunjin, this needs more context.” Felix looks like he’s seriously second-guessing his taste in men before shaking it off with a sigh and elaborates. “He’s been trying to find out some scoop about Chan for the campus blog and caught him in his angry boxer mode and Changbin was also there assisting him. Hey, did you know that Chan doesn’t tape his hands before punching the bag? Fuck, that’s so intimidating but so hot at the same time—“

“Yah! I’m your boyfriend! How can you say that in front of me?!”

Changbin. Changbin in a jersey. Changbin in a jersey and drenched in sweat. And Hyunjin seriously has HQ pictures of that Changbin.

It really, absolutely shouldn’t have been the first thing that crossed your mind, but the idea of that Changbin — bonus if he still has anger pent up in him — barging into your place and instantly throwing you on the bed—

“I’m not a perverted creep who’s gonna buy pictures of him that he doesn’t even know exist. Besides, isn’t that a violation of his rights? He never consented to those pics. This is college, you’re only working for the campus blog, not fucking Dispatch.” you deadpan.

“So you don’t even want to take a sneak peek at a picture?”

“No.”

You barely stepped a foot into your apartment when Jisung storms out of his own place and stops in front of you. “You fucking liar.”

“Excuse me? What the— hmph!”

The next thing you know, Jisung forces his way into your hallway, slams the door shut and crowds you against it. His face is invading your personal space, eyes enraged and jaw locked. Even though his anger is far from justified as you haven’t glanced at him ever since he stayed over, a tiny part of you believes that you pissed him off for good. It's not the first time you witness him angry. However, it's the first time you witness him look as if someone murdered his family and was trying to get revenge.

“I thought you took care of it yourself!”

“Took care of what?”

“Did you already forget that I can read your mind?!”

You scrunch your nose, trying to connect the dots in his words. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there’s no point in trying. A frustrated groan leaves you. “Why are you getting so riled up? I just breathed and you stormed into my place!”

“‘Bullshit. You weren’t just breathing,” he snaps, and you flinch when his hand lands a few inches beside your face with a loud pang. “You were thinking of Changbin again! And I mean that in the thousand sex positions and locations you want him to bang you kind of thinking! And also—“

“Also what?”

“I know you’ve been pent up for days. Seriously, why don’t you just get off like every other sane human being?”

His brutal delivery leaves you flabbergasted. How the fuck does he know that? No. No. No. He doesn’t know. He can’t. Just because he can read your mind doesn’t mean that you didn’t pleasure yourself after giving him that blowjob. Jisung’s probably bluffing — he has to be bluffing.

“W-why should I answer you?” you stutter. Suddenly the walls look much more interesting. When was the last time you painted the walls? Maybe it’s time to switch things up—

“Are you really about to get all cocky with me? Give me a break.” Jisung chews on his bottom lip after little deliberation. “You wanna know why? Because one of my best friends is going through a hard time that can utterly destroy his entire future thanks to the fucking universe! If that isn’t stressful as it is, I also see and hear all kinds of things you want Changbin to do to you. And your fantasies are also affecting me.”

You stare at him as if he sprouted eight new legs. “So you’ve also been…?”

“Sexually frustrated? Fuck yes. And it’s all your fault. So take responsibility and do something against it before I do.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“So what if I am?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine once you meet his stone-cold gaze. Frustration is displayed all over his features, from his labored breaths to the raised brow. He’s not playing mind games this time, he’s actually frustrated.

There are a billion red flags, a billion blinking signs saying NO DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS! DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT in your mind. There are so many countless reasons why you should listen to your head, but the way Jisung is lusting after you is terrifyingly attractive.

You don’t trust your voice to respond verbally. Instead, you look down at your trembling hand and tug at the hem of his shirt. It’s just then when you also realize that your thighs are clenched. Fuck.

Jisung takes the hint. In the blink of an eye, he’s yanking you to your room, kicks the door shut with a loud ‘thud’, and manhandles you on the bed. You’re too stunned to react, and gulp when he hovers over you and strips off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that doesn’t hide his toned arms.

“Use the color system, alright? Green when everything is alright, yellow when you want me to slow down, and red when you want me to stop for good?” he asks.

“I know what the color system is,” you mutter, tearing your eyes away from him.

“That’s not an answer to my question.” he presses.

“Fine, color system it is. There! Happy? Now get on with it—“

Jisung pins your wrists above your head vigorously. “You don’t call the shots here. I do.”

Your stomach swoops. You really should’ve listened to your brain. This Jisung isn’t comparable with the Jisung you sucked off a few days ago. That Jisung was cocky — he’s always cocky, what are you even saying — but he still gave you room to breathe. This Jisung is downright scary.

“Good thing for you, I know exactly what you want me to do—” he starts sinisterly as his thigh settles firmly between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core. You suddenly regret wearing a skirt. “—and trust me baby, even if I couldn’t read your mind, I would do all those things because that’s what I plan on doing to you regardless.”

The look he gives you should be illegal. He shouldn’t be in the position to look down at you, as if he’s the king and has free reign over the consequences you are about to bear. Your head suddenly feels dizzy, and it’s way too hot in the room. It’s as if your bedroom has morphed into some vacuum as you’re desperately trying to breathe. Your system ceases to function once he presses his thigh even harder on your cunt, and all you manage to make is a pathetic whimper.

A menacing grin makes its way to his face. He’s clearly thriving on this ego-boost and continues to grind his thigh on you until your hips start to sway along. It seems like you found your voice again once he leans down and nibbles on your neck. Your moans are barely audible at first, but they slowly turn into drawn out mewls and labored breaths.

Your eyes snap open when he suddenly retreats his thigh and holds your hip in a vice grip, stopping you from moving. “W-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Huh?” You squint at him. “But you can read my mind!”

“I want you to say it out loud.”

There’s no way in the universe that you’ll do that. You’ll gladly wipe off that shit-eating grin out of his face whether he likes it or not, but with his hold on your wrists, that is deemed impossible.

You should say something out loud though. Yellow. That would save you from the humiliation. You could regain at least an ounce of control, not feel so pathetic anymore. It’s a simple word, just two syllables, six letters. The tables can be turned to your advantage. It’s easy.

You don’t.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You can’t say all those filthy thoughts in your head out loud because you’re ashamed, huh? Not when you love feeling so powerless, subject to anything I do to you. Face it baby, just admit that you’re a needy little bitch who wants to get off on my fingers so bad, and I’ll give you what you want,” Jisung growls in between hot, wet kisses he leaves on your neck.

“I—“ you whimper after some difficulties, “I’m your needy little bitch w-who wants to get off on your fingers.”

Jisung’s head pipes up, his face just hovering a couple of inches away from yours. With that little distance between you, you know it’s not a trick of the light and that his eyes are blown up with hunger, hunger, and more hunger. "Not just any bitch, but mine? Do you like it when I call you mine?"

You nod. From there on, it’s a chain reaction.

He wastes no time slipping his fingers past your panties, mindlessly trailing along your folds. You throw your head back in pleasure, bucking your hips into his touch. A cry leaves you the moment he slips a finger inside you, his thumb simultaneously flicking your clit. It’s sensory overload, rendering your rationality to a standstill.

Your utter downfall is marked once Jisung adds a second finger, never slowing down. He groans at the way you clench around him like a maniac, and the sounds he makes send jolts all over your body. You’re writhing under his grasp at this point, overstimulated by everything yet at the same time, you feel your arousal slowly fading.

“Does my baby feel good? Are you close?” Jisung asks, nipping on your earlobe.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

The pit in your stomach grows. You’ve never experienced claustrophobia, but right now, it’s like everything’s suffocating you. “A-as in I don’t fucking know!” you exclaim shakily.

Jisung stops his movements. The weight on your wrists is lifted, and he looks at you, face unreadable. “(y/n), color. What’s your color?”

“Green. It’s just...” your trail off, avoiding his eyes.

“Just...?”

“I’ve never come before,” you confess in defeat. You really can’t believe that Jisung out of all people is the one to make the call of judgment. “I mean it! I’ve tried getting myself off but I never managed to... so cut me some fucking slack because I’m trying my best here and am still new to everything!”

Jisung stays silent. He stares at you in… confusion? disbelief? You really have no clue how to read his expression. Something negative for sure, though. He’s Satan’s spawn, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably thinking twice about going down on you, thinking about the gravity of a mistake he’s dealing with this time. He just has no clue how to articulate his irritation—

“You’re so cute, fucking hell,” he whispers.

You do a double-take. What? What did he say?

A small chuckle escapes his lips. As if he doesn’t mind. Wait. He doesn’t mind. “I’ll take good care of you. Trust me on this,” he says.

“That’s a little late coming from you, your fingers are literally up my vagi— h-ha-aah—“

“Just shut up and let me do the work.” Jisung rolls his eyes as he works you up again, fingers moving at a slower pace this time. Within minutes, he’s reduced you into a panting, stuttering mess. “You look so tiny and helpless underneath me. How adorable,” he coos, to which you just whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I call you tiny? Like it when your tight cunt already feels stuffed with just two fingers? Maybe we should stretch it to a third one, think you can handle that?” he presses on. That’s when he rams his fingers into a particular spot, making you arch your back. A knowing smile makes its way onto his lips. “Found it.”

“N-no, fuck— t-too much—” you babble, but he continues to abuse your sweet spot without remorse.

An unfamiliar pressure builds up in your abdomen, threatening to burst. Your whines grow louder, breaths shallower. You squeeze your eyes shut as you thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. “Jisung, I think I’m gonna—”

“Oh no, not like this,” he growls. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to look at me when you cum. So you’ll remember that it was me who made you cum for the first time. It’s me who’s making you feel good.”

That is easier said than done. You manage to open your eyes, though with a lot of difficulties. Scratch that, your eyes are barely open. Jisung is a blurry image, and you’re unable to register everything he says, the sound of his fingers squelching in your heat blaring in your ears.

You deem it fucking impossible to keep your eyes open when your orgasm hits you hard, body spasming from the sensation. But you keep on trying, keep forcing to set your eyes on him.

It’s all worth it though when the reward you get is a proud smile on his face, as well as streams of praises coming from his mouth.

It’s a continuous pattern that goes as follows:

1. You spend your days glued to your friends.

2. At least one of them (usually, it’s Seungmin) preaches how you should get your shit together and ask Changbin out.

3. Somehow, Changbin manages to leave a strong presence in your fantasies and you end up daydreaming about a scenario that stars him, you and a bed (if you’re feeling more daring, any other kind of surface or object he could pound you into.)

4. Jisung notices and forces the horniness out of your system.

5. You tell yourself that it’s the last time Jisung has such control over you.

And then the cycle repeats.

But here’s the thing: you find yourself doing no. 5 you with less conviction the more it happens. No. 5 is a formality at this point. You don’t know when you went the wrong path, but are you really in a position to complain? Jisung is good with you, he’s good with his fingers, even better with his mouth.

But then there’s this side of Jisung after he’s ruined you. He knows what you want to eat after you’re all cleaned up, knows what show you want to watch, knows if you want to just drop dead in bed or need someone to force you to finish your uni assignments. In short: Jisung is good. If you ever said that out loud and someone caught wind of it, they might assume that you liked him.

But Changbin. You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin—

You like Changbin, right?

“You’ve been looking at me as if I had the word CLOWN written over my forehead. Do I have something on my face or what?” you cross your arms and are met with your friends quickly averting their eyes from you.

Felix is the first one to break the silence. “Is that a new dress?”

“Not really. I recently found it when I cleared out my closet and decided to give it one more try. Why—“ you pause, and your expression turns grim once it dawns on you. “I look ridiculous in this, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“You look like a clown.”

“Seungmin-Hyung, did you really just???”

If your crippling self-esteem hadn’t reached its all-time low before, then it definitely did now. “Geez, thanks,” you deadpan.

Jeongin is panicking, trying to provide some damage control as Felix snaps at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Nobody cares about your two cents!”

“Well, but she asked for our opinion!”

“Nobody cares about your honest two cents!”

“Let’s just have lunch at the burger place and talk about this later, Hyung!”

You’re still dazed, chuckling dryly like those cartoon characters usually do when their soul leaves their body after someone dragged them. The entire situation is downright sad to witness. Is this a sign that your period is coming soon? That’s it! That probably explains why you’re acting so uncharacteristically sensitive today—

“The dress suits you, (y/n). You should wear it more often,” Changbin says.

“Hah?” you flinch and you’re sure your soul actually left your body when you turn to face Changbin smiling genuinely at you. Out of your periphery, you see Jisung and Chan behind him, but that’s not the point.

What? The? Fuck? Did he really just? Did Changbin just… compliment you?

You don’t realize how long you’ve dumbly stared at him until Jeongin nudges you. “Uhhhh, thanks!” you squeak out, cringing at how your voice just went up by an octave. You can feel Jeongin facepalming internally at your response, but you don’t blame him; you’d most likely do the same.

Changbin just smiles before he turns away to get to his next class, tugging Jisung and Chan with him.

Nevermind. Wearing this dress was the best decision you’ve made in your entire college career. The way you suddenly beam almost gives Felix whiplash — it’s obvious in the way he stares at you as if he ended up watching a comedy instead of the melodrama he was expecting. Hyunjin seems just as flabberghasted, Jeongin is still cringing from the secondhand embarrassment, and Seungmin just grins.

“Ah, so lover boy is the reason, I see.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god, just shut up, Seungmin.”

Jisung is eating you out with such fervor that has you sobbing and thrashing around. He’s merciless in every literal sense, keeping your hips planted on the couch with his hands to the point where veins are bulging out, and lapping up your juices with his tongue, continuing even though you already came. He only pulls away, lips glistening in your release, once you tug on his hair despite his orders to not do that.

“Already spent now? But baby, we just started.” he pouts. “Or is it because it’s me? Would you defy if Changbin was the one eating you out?”

You stare at him with blown out eyes. Why the fuck is he bringing up Changbin now? The words hang heavy in your throat and are threatening to burst, but the death stare he delivers stops you from doing so.

Something’s not right.

“Don’t tell me... you’re wet again because I just mentioned Changbin. Changbin this, Changbin that, huh? It’s always only Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. And I thought I was doing you good all along,” he rages, making you flinch. He can be terrifying when he wants to be, but this time, he seems completely out of it. “You know what? I’m fucking done with holding back. You’re mine, got it?”

With that, he dives back into your cunt, sucking harshly on your clit as he slides a finger in you. You try to pry him off, but his weight is restraining you to the sofa.

“Jisung, it hurts— ouch—“ Panic starts to rise in you when he finally detaches himself from your nub, but instead, moves down to your thighs and starts sucking on the skin with a force much harder than you’re used from him. “What are you doing? S-stop—!”

“You’re mine, you’re supposed to be mine. I am literally written on your skin. So why can’t you just wish to be with me? Do I have to mark you up so that you’ll finally get it?”

It hurts. It hurts. Once you feel teeth on your skin, you burst into tears. “Red, Jisung, red!”

As if it was the spell to break the cast, Jisung finally snaps out of it. His features break once his eyes meet yours. Regret sticks onto him like a second skin, and he slightly moves his hand in an attempt to reach out to you. Your muscles react faster though, and you instinctively pull your legs towards yourself and shy away from him. The way his face drops by another layer of remorse tugs at your heartstrings, but the impending fear overpowers everything else you’re feeling.

“What’s going on? What went over you?” you ask.

Jisung’s breath is shaky. He feverishly opens his mouth several times, but no sound is coming out. He’s struggling to find the right words, maybe trying to find a somewhat reasonable justification for his behavior. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t do this anymore without having feelings—” his voice is weak and vulnerable and you’ve never witnessed him break down like this before, “—I like you. I like you the way you like Changbin. I just...”

Silence.

“Leave,” you whisper, but in this silence, your voice rings out loud and clear. This is… too much weight for your heart to carry.

Jisung complies. He grabs his belongings from the floor, slips on his shirt, and leaves with his head hung low. His footsteps grow more and more distant, but then he stops.

“Are you really in love with Changbin?” His voice cracks.

You don’t muster up the courage to face him. “Just read my mind.”

It’s silent again. Too overwhelming. You’re waiting for yet another outburst of him, waiting for his “I want you to say it out loud”, because that’s how the conversation always goes.

The last thing you hear is the front door falling in its lock with a soft click.

You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin you like—

You like him, right?

Things have changed.

You and Jisung haven’t crossed paths ever since, not even passed each other by in the hallways. It’s weird since you’ve grown used to seeing him every day outside of your apartment complex. You’ve never really acknowledged each other’s presence with a wave or something in the sorts; it was just a second where your eyes met, and then your days went on.

That being said, you run into Changbin quite frequently. If you ever exchanged words, it’s nothing more than friendly small talk and the one or other compliment about his music. Talking to Changbin is nice; he makes you smile.

You know a little bit more about Changbin now, like his favorite ice cream flavor or the fact that he has a pokemon plushie named Gyu. It’s cute, and you chuckle when you think about how you’d pay good money for that information a few weeks ago.

Changbin is nice, and there’s nothing more to the story.

The chaotic quartett you call your friends however, doesn’t seem to buy it. They are loud and nosey and have eyes, so it was set in stone that they’d tease you about it sooner or later. It’s all fun and games, and you played along with it at first, because that’s how you guys are. But as time went on, when the banter became so repetitive and blown out of proportion to the point where they have made clowning you about your small interactions with Changbin the pinnacle of their entertainment, you’ve begun to be fed up by it.

“Will you finally stop bringing him up in an indecent manner every single lunch break? Or even better, stop bringing him up altogether?” You snap, which shocks everyone at the table because you never snap.

Nobody has time to react as you quickly stomp away to grab some fresh air. You mutter out every curse under the sun, not intending to let your anger take over you this much. You’ve only made it past the door when Felix catches up to you, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“(y/n), what’s the matter? Clearly, something’s bothering you. And I know it’s not because of just Seungmin.” Concern is woven in his smooth voice.

You have to admit, it was a smart and calculated move from your friends to send Felix your way. He’s always been the compassionate one out of your little friend group. Like a pillar, he’s the one who keeps you all grounded (and he’s the one to drive your asses back home after the wild Alpha Beta Gamma frat parties).

“I don’t like Changbin that way, I realized. So it’d be very much appreciated if you asses didn’t allude to that every time,” you huff.

Felix sends you an understanding smile. “We can work that out. You know that Hyunjin and Seungmin in particular can be insensitive and sometimes don’t realize they’ve taken things too far..”

“Fine, but that’s not the main thing that’s eating me up alive, Felix.” you sigh. The words seem to flow out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I’ve realized I’ve never really liked Changbin. Okay, fine, he was just a crush I had but I don’t like him.”

He nods slowly, his brain processing your ramble. “So you like someone else.”

“Yes. And I don’t know how to fix it because we got into a huge fight.”

“Talk to them. That’s the only thing left to do.” His response is immediate, and he says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every relationship has its ups and downs, and if you want to be committed, you have to fight for it. If you were made for one another, you’ll make it.”

The last part makes you laugh internally. If only he knew.

“Let me guess, you expect me to barge into his place to sort things out,” you say.

Felix gives you the look of judgment. “I mean, you could also show some human decency and text him in advance so he’s also prepared. But that works fine too.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never been to Jisung’s apartment. That’s about to change when you knock on his door sometime in the evening, shortly after sunset.

Jisung’s face immediately drops once he opens the door. “What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, drenched in regret.

It’s not that his appearance has reached rock bottom. He still takes good care of himself; however, you pick up the dark circles under his eyes and his complexion seems a little paler. Not sickeningly pale, but in a sense that he hasn’t seen the light of day for a few consecutive days.

You shift your weight on one leg and fiddle with your fingers. “Can we talk?”

Jisung gulps. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles after a moment of hesitation before inviting you in.

“I’ve thought a long time about this. Everything, really,” you start awkwardly as soon as you’re both standing stiffly in his living room. “I, um…”

You cringe inwardly as your voice trails off. Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. Even wrote down the entire speech. Then threw the draft away, only to compose a new one. And then again and again and again. After what felt like an eternity, you had polished your final speech and memorized it from top to bottom, even making sure that your flow sounded natural. But now that this is the real deal, your mind goes blank. Of course, of fucking course, your illiterate brain had to give up on you in the situation that mattered the most.

Jisung purses his lips. “Do you want something to drink first? No need to rush—”

“I don’t like Changbin!” you blurt out. Jisung stares at you in confusion. “I mean, I used to like Changbin — I still do, he’s a nice guy! Don’t get me wrong — but that’s all he is. He’s… nice. I like him, as a friendly guy. I had a crush on him, but now it’s just, uh, like. Platonic! Yeah, platonic.”

Despite him nodding slowly, you know that he is still lost. You would be too if you were on the receiving end of this painfully clumsy delivery.

You give yourself a mental slap as you take a deep breath. It can’t get any worse than this. Definitely impossible. You’ve already proven to him how bad your public speaking skills are. Might as well get over it with the bluntest words. “I miss you. And not because of the sexual things we did, but everything else. I miss you coming over, miss the movie night, and all that. I miss you, Jisung.”

He stares at you silently. Your eyes search his face for any sign of emotion, and for one too many times, Jisung is impossible to read. Okay, perhaps you did manage to tell him what you wanted to tell him even worse than whatever the fuck your initial attempt was.

But then his blank armor cracks. Little by little, his eyes soften, disbelief and remorse on display for you to see. Jisung is looking at you as if his world has fallen apart even more. He’s looking at you as if he’s clinging to the last threads of reason, trying to make sense of the situation. He’s looking at you with eyes that could hold stars behind them, stars that were supposed to burn out yet shine brighter than the universe.

“How can you say that? I hurt you. I made you cry! I was being a selfish asshole who put out his anger on you!” he exclaims, voice breaking towards the end. Pain clouds his red eyes, and he’s fighting to keep the tears at bay.

You slowly prod closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn’t react once, not even when you stand directly in front of him. Not even when you gently place your hands on a shoulder each. Not until you say, “It’s alright. I’m alright. No hard feelings.”

That’s his breaking point. Tears stream down his face, while quiet hiccups jump out of his throat. “How can you be so nice to me?” His sobs are muffled as he eases into your touch, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, clinging onto you as if you’re his lifeline.

The answer is simple, you say to yourself, as you thread a hand in his hair. “We’re soulmates.”

The weight of the words hangs in the air, shattering the previous tension and all the worries in your heart. It’s liberating, finally being able to say it out loud without feeling like an abnormality for saying those words with happiness. You’re soulmates. You’re soulmates, and that’s okay.

Jisung’s sobs resound throughout the room, and so do his countless, tiny yeah, we are’s. You need a moment before you register the wetness on your face. It feels like an eternity standing in his warm embrace, even after there are no more tears left to cry.

“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Jisung catches it. two fingers gently lift your chin so that you’re facing him. You almost melt when your eyes meet, his gaze filled with adoration that makes you want to burst at the seams.

“Yeah. I’d love that.” Jisung smiles.

It costs you your willpower to tear your eyes away from him before they flutter down to his lips. Despite his bottom lip being a little cracked, they look inviting and you wonder what they taste like. You expect him to nudge you, expect him to tell you to hurry up and do something because you’re pretty sure you’re staring at his lips for far too long.

He doesn’t. The grip on your chin is loose as if to tell you to take your time and go at your own pace. But the longer you wait, the more reluctance builds up. It’s a lot of power he’s given you; hell, it’s the first time he hands the reigns to you.

“Can you… uhm… I’ve never done this before, so yeah…” you look at him with a crooked smile.

The breathless chuckle that leaves him sounds like music to your ears. Jisung moves his hand to the back of your neck before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is short and sweet, but that alone suffices to make the butterflies in your stomach burst. The faint taste of coke lingers on him, and before you know it, you’re kissing again. Jisung’s lips are like an addiction, reeling you back in for another one. Somewhere along the way, the kisses change. Innocent presses of lips are long forgotten, replaced by teeth playfully tugging on your bottom lip, and Jisung kissing you deeper to the point where he steals all oxygen out of your lungs.

Your hands slide down his chest, tugging on his shirt. Startled by your bold actions, he pulls away, but you catch him back into another liplock that leaves the two of you breathless. All you can think of clearly is Jisung Jisung Jisung—

This time he forces himself away from you. Gasping for air, he places his forehead on yours. “If we go farther than this, then I don’t know if I can control myself.” His warning is barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” you whisper back.

That’s all the reassurance he needs before leading you to his bedroom, all the whilst latching onto your lips once more. He doesn’t let go of you until your back hits the soft mattress and he’s on top of you. Warm, slightly calloused hands trail from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt.

“Color?”

“Green,” you respond, smiling up at him. The sun has long vanished at the horizon, replaced by the dim moon and stars. Despite only a little light surging past the blinds into the room, you can see Jisung’s features crystal clear. The endearing smile is cast into the back of your mind, so is the delicacy in his touch, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as he sheds all your clothes off until you’re left in your underwear. After hearing your complaints, he discards his own clothes with an amused glint in his eyes.

Jisung takes his time pounding every single detail of your features into his memory. His hands roam all over your body, inciting goosebumps. You lean into his touch with a sigh and flit your gaze to him once he stops on a particular spot.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the hesitation in his voice speaks for itself.  “Does this bug you?” he asks, uncertainty laced in it as he runs his finger over each character of his name that’s inked under your collarbone. You shake your head with a hum that turns into a soft moan once he leaves kisses on the spots his finger burned before, one for each letter. Eventually, his actions spiral out to sucking lovebites and rutting his bulge against your heat, enticing louder whines out of you. Your vision morphs into blurriness as you move your hips in sync with his, locking your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

“(y/n), baby…” Jisung heaves for air, “Is it okay if I…?.”

“Please,” you mewl, “want you inside me.” Your desperation must’ve shone through your tone, as Jisung presses a loving kiss on your forehead before he reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, grinning like a lovesick idiot.  

In books and movies, this is the part where the virgin would reach peak nervousness. Too many fears would be inhabiting their mind; the fear of pain, fear of not fulfilling their partner’s needs, fear of the entire situation, essentially. Whatever they depict in those books and movies, it doesn’t match up with the warmth and want pumping in your veins. Even after Jisung slipped your and his underwear off and slid the condom on his leaking cock, there’s no sign of fear bubbling in you. It’s rather the opposite; you nudge him to finally slide into you.

“So impatient,” he tuts playfully, and because he can’t help being a bit sadistic, he teases your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the frustration of clenching around nothing. You feel like crying for good once he slowly pushes into you. The stretch feels unfamiliar and completely different than what you’re used to from his fingers, but it’s not unpleasant as you throw your head back. While you’re adjusting to his girth, Jisung observes your every expression, faltering whenever you scrunch your eyes shut. 

“You still there?” he asks in hushed tones, caressing your cheek.

In awe about his concern, you nod. “I’m fine. It’s just… new. I’ve never done this, but I guess you already figured that out.” It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and then you give him the green light to continue.

The way Jisung has your hands firmly against the bed lacks the usual roughness; he isn’t gripping your wrists as if he’s about to cut off your blood circulation. This time, he has intertwined his fingers with yours as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of you. A firework of colors and stars is all you see as he thrusts into slow and deep and with all the passion he has to offer. His lips don’t leave space for a breather either; he kisses you with so much fervor that it swallows your heart up whole. At that instant, you realize that he’s claimed your heart and isn’t going to give that up any time soon. You don’t mind, because you know that you’ve committed the same crime.

It’s not long after until you feel the orgasm building up. Jisung brings one hand down to flick your clit, and just like that, you unravel beneath him. His own release follows suit, a muffled groan coming from his lips as he spills into the condom.

It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between you except for harsh breathing. Eventually, Jisung slides his softening dick out of you and disappears for a moment to clean up, returning with a damp towel for you to freshen up a little, as well as a glass of water.

“I think I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say after you gulped down the drink in one go, voice devoid of emotion. A laugh leaves Jisung. The way you deliver it is so casual as if he didn’t just have his dick in you minutes before. “Also, isn’t this the part where we should cuddle?”

“So bossy, your royal majesty.” He even takes a bow before he climbs back on the bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, and scooting up to you. He says something else, but you don’t register what exactly. All you care about is being wrapped in his warm embrace. The stench of sweat isn’t prominent on him anymore. Instead, it’s a huge cloud of Axe overpowering your senses. You would complain, but you’re too blissed out to bother.

Jisung must’ve noticed at a certain point that you’ve wandered to daydream paradise. “You’ve been quiet for a while. A penny for your thoughts.”

“But you can read my mind.”

“I want you to say it out loud.” His answer comes like a shot while his hand is brushing through your hair. “That, and your thoughts are too jumbled and my head is going to malfunction if I try to decode everything running in your head right now.”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards. “I’m just thinking about how we did everything in the wrong order. It’s just now that we kissed, before that I only sucked you off or something. We’re so fucked up.”

“If you word it that way, we definitely didn’t follow the book.” Jisung laughs in agreement. The vibrations from his chest causes you to bubble up in warmth.

“I don’t mind, though. That’s not the point. I’m happy.” You don’t have to look up to know that his eyes lit up. “Jisung, I’m happy that you’re mine.”

The hold around your waist tightens, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed on top of your head. “And I’m happy that you’re mine.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you probably wouldn’t have to go through these struggles. Society would normalize having someone that completes you. You wouldn’t go through countless stages of denial, countless stages of frustration, and countless stages of doubt.

In another lifetime, another universe, you potentially could’ve been on even worse terms. Just like in those cyberpunk movies, maybe you two would be enemies, one fighting alongside the government, the other assisting the villain who tries to overthrow the system. Star-crossed lovers, that’s what you two would be dubbed as.

In another lifetime, another univer—

No need to fantasize about what could be. The only lifetime that matters is this lifetime, this universe, your reality. In reality, people like you live in hiding. In reality, society is doubtful towards people with soulmates. In reality, people like you are destined for a tragedy. It’s taken you a long time to wrap it around your head.

That’s alright though. You’re alright. You’ll always be alright. The universe might have not played in your favor in this lifetime, but you still found each other. Perhaps, the universe will be more forgiving towards you in your next lifetime. Or the one after. Who knows? Whatever happens, at least you know you have one person you’re bound to meet wherever you are, whenever you are. One person who won’t ever let go of you. One person you won’t ever let go of.

“Yeah, I’m yours.”

[twstdreams]

HC for enemies--friends--lovers please! With Epel, Ace, Floyd💛

Everyone is a sucker for enemies to friends to lovers, including me, but that is quite a long process so I changed it to enemies to friends to crush! I hope you enjoy it.

Warning: Floyd’s section contains bullying and not respecting personal boundaries, long post

Includes spoilers for episode 1

Epel Felmier

Enemies

You two start off on the wrong foot when Epel thinks you’ve misgendered him. You were pointing towards him and giggled with your friend, saying, “She’s so cute!”

Epel immediately shuts you down and tells you that he’s a man

Being called out so publicly shocks you, especially since you were referring to the familiar beside him. But eyes are starting to linger your way, so you decide to stay silent. Besides, why was he even listening in to your conversation?

Epel is annoyed because he takes your silence for shame. You feel uncomfortable because of both the unwanted attention and the fact that Epel confronted you so publicly instead of approaching you personally, preferably without the class staring.  

Friends

Neither of you make an effort to approach the other, perfectly content staying in your own circles until you’re forced to be lab partners. It’s a little awkward but you both know Crewel doesn’t give easy assignments, so you put aside memories of your first impressions of each other.

Here and there little bits of conversation sneak in. Discussing the latest assignment while waiting for something to reduce, complaining about the mess the ghost wedding made while distilling this or that, talking about favourite foods in the cafeteria while sharing notebooks to write down qualitative and quantitative observations

The two of you find out your common interests and take turns letting each other gush. Your relationship with Epel improves and your feelings towards him morph into something more pleasant

At the end of the experiment, you get the courage to sincerely apologize and clear air. From there, the two of you become friends.

You encourage him to go for a manly aesthetic if that’s what makes him happiest while providing your opinions to help him widen his viewpoint. He appreciates the support and discovers more sides to you as your friendship continues

Crush

He loves the way your eyes sparkle when he carves all sorts of creations out of apples but crinkles his nose when you suggest he make one that looks like a Nashi pear

You two sneak out and have yakiniku to celebrate the end of exams! 

Epel feels like he can be himself without reservation around you. He’s never been one for romance or flowery gestures, but as much as he’s nervous to admit it, the feelings he has for you have bloomed into something beyond friendship. And the nervous butterflies that erupt in his stomach every so often aren’t from some botched potion either

You admire Epel’s persistence and hardworking spirit, but even more than that you crave his attention and affection in a unique way. You see Epel’s apparent distaste for romance when topics like true love’s kiss or love poems come up, so you hide your feelings. Unfortunately, even in the darkness, they continue to grow

Ace Trappola

Enemies

When you first meet Ace Trappola, you are not impressed. He radiates little sibling energy in the worst way. You can just feel that he was the youngest that tried to get away with everything with sweet words and a cheeky smile

His lack of filter is annoying but more importantly he seems to be on Riddle’s hit list. With hopes of avoiding getting collared by the dorm leader, you swiftly avoid the troublemaker. Someone who nearly got expelled and subsequently punished by Riddle on the same day was not someone you wanted to hang out with.

Unfortunately, luck is not on your side. You were minding your own business while tending to the flamingoes only to find yourself suddenly embroiled in his harebrained scheme to skip chores. 

Ace pretends to help you out but Riddle catches him in the act and now the two of you are in trouble! You, for hiding Ace, and him for trying to avoid his responsibilities. The hundreds of rules you have to copy by hand are enough to fuel your hatred for the redhead 

Friends

You actively avoid Ace until he stands up to the dorm leader. Quite frankly, since he needed to punch Riddle to get the message through, his communication skills definitely leave something to be desired. However, his action, as clumsy as they were, bring about good change for the dorm and Riddle

You’re still a little weary, Riddle isn’t that lenient even after relaxing and Ace is as blunt as ever, but you have a newfound understanding of Ace

The two of you get closer bit by bit. One day, you’re partners to paint roses, having fun practicing casting spells and perhaps keeping quiet about a hedgehog that turned lilac for a bit. 

The next day, you’re casually chatting while playing croquet at an Unbirthday party

Another day, you let Ace have the last slice of cherry pie in exchange for him teaching you a cool card trick he showed you the day before. Little things keep adding up, intertwining your lives closer together

Crush

Eventually, you watch Ace play basketball. He describes it as a casual practice but you can’t help but be drawn in by his playing style. Ace looks so cool during the scrimmage, interrupting his opponent’s offence with ease and changing the tide of the game in an instant!

His spatial awareness shines through when all it takes is a quick glance at the hoop for him to take a shot. Your heart may have skipped one too many beats when the basketball flew into the net.

As the days pass, you find yourself looking forward to his teasing. Sometimes he actually manages to fluster you! Otherwise, you two enjoy a casual banter. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you ignore the butterflies in your stomach

Floyd Leech

Enemies

Are you scared of Floyd? Why yes you are, which is why you go out of your way to avoid him. The way Savanaclaw students quake in fear when they accidentally bump into Floyd is enough to confirm that you should steer clear of the belligerent eel

Unfortunately, this sentiment is one sided. Floyd has taken to calling you glass catfish because you’re both horribly skittish around him and your terror is clear! He thinks it’s cute how you assume crowds will keep you safe and you do your best to not be alone.

Quite frankly, it’s a one-sided animosity. Floyd thinks you’re funny while your torment is his pleasure. You try to keep your calm but his relaxed comments of breaking bones and the looming threat of being squeezed keeps you on your toes

Honestly, you’re a little miffed. First of all, why is he so fast? Secondly, there must be others to scare. You’re sure Azul gives him enough work in that aspect. And finally, how are you supposed to memorize all these mushroom species and history facts when Floyd has deemed you his current favourite squeaky toy?

Friends

You always assumed Floyd’s squeeze would be a horrible experience of organs being rearranged and the nasty sound of something snapping. So when the first time he embraces you and it’s the feeling of warm, strong arms curling around you protectively, your brain short circuits 

You had been fuming and more than a little annoyed so when you crossed paths with some rowdy students, instead of spitting out some standard apology and being on your merry way, you snapped back! And, like most students at NRC, they didn’t take kindly to it. 

It feels ironic that you had avoided Floyd so fervently but in the end, you only had yourself to blame for stirring up trouble. Magic battles were most definitely against the rules but you didn’t have any intentions on letting some fireballs scorch you either

Yet your opponents quickly withdraw when Floyd chimes, “Let me join in!~” And for once, you’re happy that Floyd is around. It must show on your face because in the midst of drawling about how boring it is now that the tension is gone, he breaks out into a smile

“You’re grinning glass catfish!” It’s the first time Floyd ever makes you smile and it’s far from the last 

Your friendship is very much a give and take affair. You learn to go with the flow, but you put your foot down as necessary. More than you expect, Floyd can be amendable to your demands. He’s still as chaotic as ever though, hedonistic almost to a fault

Crush

You two have a takoyaki adventure! Cooking with Floyd is nothing short of chaotic. For the first half, he’s bored and pacing around. You chop up ingredients and he not so secretly snacks on them. Then when it’s time to fry the takoyaki in the molds, he’s suddenly over-pouring batter and eating them almost as fast as you make them! By the end, you didn’t even get to take a picture of the takoyaki you two made but his goofy grin and lips covered in sauce engrain themselves into your memory

“I could eat you up too!” he comments with his signature laugh and it does dangerous things to your heart.

“Please don’t!” you squeak out hastily but you can’t help the flush of heat that comes with embarrassment nor the hasty hand gestures as you avoid his gaze. Your pulse starts to increase rapidly, but you know it’s not out of fear

You won’t complain of boring days anymore. For now, you let the current take you where it will. And if that destination happens to be romantic, well you’re not one to fight the waves

[horansqueen]

Vote For My Next Story

New Angel is almost over and I have way too many story ideas in my head. I can’t seem to pick! I also can’t write more than one at the same time, I’s rather focus on a specific one, which is why I’m asking you to vote for which of my ideas you’d like to read the most!

I apologized for some of the synopsis I wrote, I know they’re not really clear and if you need any information on them please, don’t hesitate to ask (anon or private) about them!

(click on the read more to read the summaries of the story ideas I’d like to write)

NOTES

all these are mainly about NIALL (yes, even #8) even if some other characters may appear.

i wrote AU or OU before each summary.

titles may change

some are re-writes of old stories

if you vote, thank you so much!

                       VOTE HERE

OR SEND ME AN ASK

1. MEANT TO BE

(cheating)

AU. When they first met, Louis was all *MAIN GIRL* ever wanted. However, a decade later the high school sweethearts had change and she felt like most of the sparkles she once had were now gone. Then she met Niall and it clicked instantly and intensely and since then, they’ve been seeing each other in secret, lying to their whole entourage about the nature of their relationship. Feelings started to grow, things started to change, and maybe, just maybe, it’s meant to be. Or maybe not.

A tale of broken hearts, unforgettable love and many… way too many lies.

2. LOOK WHO'S PERFECT NOW

(fake dating)

OU. *MAIN GIRL* finally finds out what fame is after starring in her first big movie, but she has a hard time getting used to it and getting involved in the showbusiness. Niall Horan is going through a break-up and is seen as 'the bad guy' when all he really wants is have fun and live his life the way he wants to. 

The first time they meet, it's hatred at first sight, but when they both agree to sign a PR contract to restore their images, they're going to have to pretend to be head over heels in love with each other. They both decide on some rules to follow as they get more and more annoyed with each other. Even holding hands feels like a horrible chore to both of them.

If there's one thing we learned through the centuries though, it's that hatred is not that far from love, and that feelings can change when you open your heart.

3. THE DAY WE FELL IN LOVE

(best friends to lovers)

AU. Since they were kids, *MAIN GIRL*, Niall and their group of friends have always been close. They all grew up together, spent all their time together, made all their mistakes together and shared all their first experiences together. 

After *MAIN GIRL* and Niall share their first kiss, everything seems to fall into place for them. At least, for a while. When everything seems to change around them and that distance threatens to tear them apart, they're going to have to fight to keep their love intact. 

Sometimes, growing up is full of bumps in the road. Feelings change, friendships end, and that promise you made to your friends to meet a year later exactly at the same place is not that easy to keep... but going may change your life.. AGAIN.

4. THE BREAK-UP PLAN

AU. *MAIN GIRL* and Niall’s relationship had started when they had barely entered their teenager years. Now, over 10 years later, they feel like something is missing. They didn’t know anything else besides each other and it had to change. They still planned on spending forever together but their lack of experiences and mistakes seemed to be an obstacle between them.

They agreed on  break that was not really a break. for six whole months, they would be able to do whatever they wanted to do with whoever they wanted to. Going to parties, leaving for a whole weekend with friends without giving any news, dating and even screwing whoever they wanted, nothing was out of reach. 

They only had one rule : honesty. Every friday night, they’d meet and spend the whole night together, talking, making out or just cuddling until they’d fall asleep, to make sure their love was preserved.

Unfortunately, things rarely go as planned and seeing the person you love the most in the world be happy without you is something almost impossible to accept.

A story about angry tears, painful jealousy, sweet sweet revenge and realizing who your real soulmate is. Watch out, it’s gonna hurt.

5. I ALMOST CARE

(used to be a Louis fanfic)

(exes)

AU. Niall and *MAIN GIRL* have dated and broken up a long time ago. When they both end up on a trip to Vegas with common friends, they’re not sure how to act around each other. After one evening spent completely drunk, they both wake up in the same bed with rings on their fingers. Maybe it will make them realize that sometimes, you don’t break up because of lack of feelings and that the spark never really die when love is real.

What happens in Vegas doesn’t always have to stay in Vegas…

6. BRUISES

(used to be a Harry fanfic)

(best friends to lovers)

AU. When Niall Horan realizes his old best friend goes to the same college as he does, he decides to keep in touch with her and try to reconnect. Feelings start sparkling but having been hurt before, Niall can’t seem to open his heart again… but if he doesn’t, he may lose the love of his life.

7. BITTERSWEET

(used to be a Harry fanfic)

(exes)

OU. Niall Horan is undeniably happy. Of course he is, why wouldn't he be? But when he finds out his ex girlfriend (for lack of a better word) wrote a book about him and their story, he gets suddenly worried. Going through the pages, he discovers the story from her point of view, and realizes that maybe, just maybe, nothing ever really ended.

A story of misunderstandings, broken hearts, lonely nights and more truths than anyone can handle.

8. LIVING WITH LOUIS TOMLINSON

(used to be a Harry fanfic)

(enemies to lovers)

AU. Call me Queen Catastrophe. I lost my job, my boyfriend, my best girl friend and my apartment on the same day. Just a little friday afternoon like all the others, right?

Thank god, my best friend Louis was there to save the day. Nothing unusual. I was supposed to crash at his apartment for one night and then walk on my pride and go back to my parents to admit how much of a failure I really am.

However, Louis had other plans : he wanted me to move in with him. That’s when my story really starts. Mutual feelings, drunken sex, grocery shopping, fights that end up with porcelain thrown around the kitchen (I’m an intense person, I know) but most of all, his best guy friend stealing his (our, now) couch at least 5 nights a week.

I despise Niall Horan with all my heart. Him and his stupid charm, his flirty smile and his hands that always ended up in places they shouldn’t. He was threatening to come between Louis and I. He was slowly taking more space in our apartment… and in my heart.

Fuck, I hate Niall Horan with a passion.

[kpop-zone]

The Fall | Kim Lip

Hogwarts AU | enemies to lovers | “Need any help with that?”, “Shut up for a second, will you?”

Wordcount: 3,099

“Don’t bother practicing L/N, you won’t stand a chance against me anyways.”

As soon as you heard that voice, you knew who it belonged to and your blood started boiling.

Jungeun.

With hatred written all over your face, you turned around seeing how the Gryffindor team entered the Quidditch field for your shared practice; loud and annoying as ever. Jungeun was right at the front with a smug smirk playing on your lips, causing you to roll your eyes automatically.

“Get lost, Jungeun.”

You weren’t in the mood to play games with her today.

“Ah I see, you finally accepted your inferiority.”

Jungeun grinned and you had to suppress the urge to use some kind of spell on her that would wipe that stupid grin off her face.

“No, I just stopped talking to people who try to drown out the fact that they have a brain the size of a pea by being obnoxious and loud.”

You gritted through your teeth before swinging your leg over your broom and pushing yourself off the ground.

No one managed to get under your skin they way that Jungeun could. You didn’t know anyone who was more annoying than her. She was impudent, rash, inconsiderate and every single other bad trait that you could think of. Annoyed you huffed and wanted to fly a few rounds to cool off, but before you could, another person suddenly barged into you with their broom.

“You have a pretty big mouth for only being the number two.”

Jungeun wiggled with two fingers right in front of your face and you swatted her hand away, causing you to lose balance for a second before controlling your broom again.

“Careful, darling, we don’t want you to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

She winked cheekily and you huffed, seething in anger.

“You know what, we’ll see who comes second. Let’s settle this the real way.”

With that, you pulled out your wand and fired a spell at the suitcase that contained all the balls to free the Snitch. At first, you didn’t know whether your spell had worked but a second later a golden lightning flew by your face and you smirked triumphantly.

“Who catches it first is proven to be the Number 1 in school.”

You narrowed your eyes challengingly and Jungeun’s face lit up in excitement.

“Bold, L/N. You could almost be a Gryffindor.”

She snickered, causing you to scrunch up your nose in disapproval, but before you could protest, Jungeun already sped off.

“Good luck, loser.”

Her mischievous laugh echoed in the stadium and you growled annoyed before chasing after her.

Unfortunately, however, your duel for the title of Hogwarts’ best seeker wasn’t settled in a few minutes like you had expected it to. On the one hand, the misty evening weather made it really hard to see the Golden Snitch and on the other hand, Jungeun was -although you hated to admit it- an excellent seeker. Whenever you were close to catching the Snitch, she was there to stop you. But you didn’t give her a chance to claim the title hers either. The minutes trickled away and although both of your teammates were already long gone, Jungeun and you were still dashing through the air after three hours. It seemed to be a battle without a winner. Nevertheless, you refused to give up, even though you couldn’t feel half of your body anymore as the air had become freezing cold. Trembling, you sat on your broom, making your own clouds above your head with your hot breath while scanning the stadium as Jungeun did the same thing on the other side of the field. You were just trying to fix your robe to make it cover more of your body when a twinkle in the middle of the field caught your attention. The Golden Snitch. This time you wouldn’t allow it to slip through your fingers. The expression on Jungeun’s face, however, gave away that she had also seen the movement.

You had to be quick.

Tightly gripping your broom, you raced off while keeping an eye on the Golden Snitch and Jungeun at the same time. She was exactly as fast as you. The Snitch, on the other hand, remained at the same spot, except for some minor movements to the left and right. You would have no trouble catching it if only you got to it before Jungeun. It would be a close call though. The one who would chicken out first would be the loser of this race and you were determined not to be the chicken. Therefore, you didn’t decrease your speed even when Jungeun and you came dangerously close. Confidently, you held out your hand, ready to capture the Golden Snitch. It was so close. Jungeun only had to peel off now and you would win. But she didn’t. The two of you edged closer and closer and you stared at each other with wide eyes, realizing that no one would give in. Crash.

The hefty collision made you feel like your ribs had just been pulverized causing you to automatically let go of your broom. A decision that you regretted a second later when you felt yourself speeding towards the ground unchecked, leading to a second unpleasant collision that knocked the air out of your lungs. For a moment, you could only see stars and you considered whether you were dead until you heard the groans of your least favorite person next to you. Either this was hell, or you had actually survived this brutal fall. Slowly, you opened your eyes, seeing the clear night sky above you, causing you to sigh in relief. You were not dead. And as far as you could tell by now, you were also still in one piece.

“Are you alright?”

Jungeun’s voice caused you to turn your head to the side and you saw that she was laying a few feet next to you, looking equally as dazed as you.

“Yeah. You?”

You replied nonchalantly as if you weren’t able to feel every single bone in your body right now to which Jungeun nodded barely noticeable.

In order to prove your statement, you slowly sat up, suppressing the groans that wanted to slip past your lips and acted like you were completely unfazed by the fall. Jungeun instantly followed your example, not wanting to seem wimpish. Neither of you, however, moved more than that. Wordlessly, the two of you sat there for a while, trying to stomach the shock until Jungeun eventually piped up.

“Did you get it?”

She asked and only now you remembered that you had been trying to prove your superior seeker skills before the fall. But when you looked at your hands, you realized that they were empty, meaning that you hadn’t caught the Golden Snitch. Disappointed, you slouched your shoulders and huffed silently.

“Well seems like we have to continue our duel on Sunday then.”

Jungeun chuckled, apparently not having been able to catch the Snitch either. Opposing to you, however, she just shrugged her failure off before grabbing her broom and pulling herself on her feet.

“Yeah, I won’t go easy on you then.”

You contorted your face in pain as you tried -and failed- to push yourself off the ground, causing Jungeun to look at you skeptically before both of you started laughing. Maybe your claim wasn’t really believable considering your miserable state.

“Need any help with that?”

Jungeun asked amused while holding out her hand and you grabbed it reluctantly; maybe now wasn’t the time for false pride. When you were on your feet again, you flashed her a small smile to which she responded with a quick wink before turning her back to you to walk back to the castle.

Maybe she isn’t the worst person in the world, you thought to yourself as you watched her figure leaving the field. Nevertheless, you still considered her your biggest rival, wherefore you chose to limp back to the castle on your own. With every step, another part of your body was aching, and you were sure that every single spot on your skin would be blue tomorrow. Almost worse than the pain in your bones, however, was the pain in your stomach that slowly started to make itself felt after the adrenaline had worn off. You were starving. All the freezing and chasing had really sucked all energy out of you, but a glance on your watch told you that you had already missed dinner. In fact, it wasn’t long till your curfew even.

“Shit.”

You muttered under your breath as you entered the castle.

You had two choices now: go directly to your dormitory and starve tonight or sneak to the kitchen to grab a little snack. Contemplatively, you stared down the stairs to the basement until you gave in to your hunger. Since when did you care about rules anyways? The corridors were almost completely empty aside from some running Hufflepuffs that wanted to reach their common room in time. With amusement, you observed the panic in their faces while going your way unbothered. The prefect and Head of your house would probably appreciate it if you were more obedient like them, but that just wasn’t in your nature. Therefore, you continued to distance yourself from your own common room until you arrived at the kitchen. Carefully, you looked around to make sure that no one was watching before slipping through a crack in the door. As soon as you were standing in the huge kitchen, however, you gasped in shock, because the eyes of countless house-elves that were just cleaning the counter tops fell on you. You had totally forgotten about them. Sheepishly, you smiled at them, but instead of instantly starting to yell at you, they didn’t bother to give you much of their attention and tiredly focused on their tasks again.

That was easier than you had thought.

Smugly, you grinned to yourself before heading for the cupboards to the right, curious to see what they contained. Right when you wanted to open the cupboard though, you could see that the door to the kitchen swung open, causing you to freeze in shock. That had to be one of the professors on their night patrol. Panicked, you looked for a hiding spot, but there weren’t many options. Therefore, you kept staring at the door, mentally preparing yourself for a lecture when you suddenly found yourself face to face with... Jungeun.

“You??”

You blurted out perplexed, but Jungeun simply nodded her head.

“Oh L/N, fancy seeing you here. Hey, Feepey.”

She greeted one of the house-elves after acknowledging you briefly.

“Your food is over there.”

The grumpy-looking house-elf croaked while pointing at one of the counters.

“You’re the best.”

Jungeun replied chipperly before skipping away all the while you stared at her with an open mouth. This didn’t seem to be her first illegal visit to the kitchen. Hesitantly, you followed Jungeun, figuring that you had more chances of finding something to eat where she was. And indeed, you ended up standing in front of a plate that was filled with what looked like the leftovers of tonight’s dinner which Jungeun instantly started to devour.

“You want something?”

She mumbled while chewing and you looked at her in disgust before slowly reaching out for one of the sandwiches. Your hunger was bigger than your pride right now.

Together, you finished the whole plate in a few minutes and ended up sighing full and happy in unison, causing you to look at each other awkwardly. Tonight, you had spent more time together than in all your years at Hogwarts before. And...you didn’t hate it.

“Well, I’m going to bed now.”

You stated sheepishly before heading for the door.

“Good idea.”

Jungeun replied and followed your lead.

Silently and with an awkward tension laying between the two of you, you left the basement together and made your way to the staircases. Every now and then, you shared quick glances before each of you averted your gaze to the floor again in embarrassment. How were you supposed to act around your least favorite person in the world that turned out to be a lot nicer than anticipated? You didn’t know. Therefore, you picked up your pace, knowing that the two of you had to go different ways to your common rooms once you would reach the staircases. As soon as you reached your long-awaited destination, you wanted to disappear without losing another word, but before you could slip away, Jungeun grabbed your robe to hold you back. In confusion, you turned around, ready to scold her, but she piped up first.

“Don’t take that way. It’s part of McGonagall’s nightly control route.”

She pointed down the corridor to the Slytherin common room and you raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

“But it’s the direct and quickest way.”

You responded snippily, sensing that Jungeun just wanted to get you in trouble to get you disqualified for the game on Sunday.

“I know. But you’re going to run right into McGonagall. You should make a detour past the Ravenclaw common room.”

Jungeun proposed, but you didn’t trust her good intentions. That was a major detour and you would take much longer, which logically also meant that you had higher chances of running into a professor.

“Sure, Jungeun. I won’t fall for your trap. I know that you’re just trying to get me disqualified for the game. But I’m not that dumb. See you on the field.”

You scoffed before shaking her hand off your rope and walking towards the corridor that would lead directly to the Slytherin common room. If Jungeun had thought that she could fool you after being nice to you for five minutes, she was wrong. You shook your head in disbelief as you disappeared in the darkness and chuckled to yourself before pulling out your wand to illuminate the path in front of you.

“Lumos.”

You whispered, causing the tip of your wand to shine a bright light.

Absentmindedly, you let your feet carry you down the familiar corridor while reflecting on tonight’s events until a noise caused you to stop dead in your tracks. Panicked, you pointed your wand in every direction to see if anyone was there with you, but you couldn’t make out a figure anywhere.

“You’re just paranoid, Y/N.”

You mumbled to yourself, before going your way again.

But there it was again. The sound of scurried footsteps.

Once again, you couldn’t see anything when you looked around and you were starting to doubt your sanity when Jungeun suddenly stepped into the light of your wand out of nowhere. You almost shrieked in shock, but before you had the chance to, Jungeun already slammed her hand on your mouth while taking away your wand and pulling you behind one of the creepy statues that were lining the corridor to the dungeons. Agitated, you swatted away her hand, but she gestured you to be silent before pointing to the corridor. In confusion, you followed the direction of her finger with your eyes and ended up looking at a cat that was calmly passing by. Your eyes immediately widened in shock and you held your breath. McGonagall. Your heart almost leaped out your chest, making you wonder whether she would be able to hear it with her sharp ears. But she didn’t seem to take notice of you and went along her way. Only when the darkness had swallowed her for a while already, you finally gasped for air and dared to move again.

“I’ve told you that you would run directly into McGonagall.”

Jungeun grumbled and you looked at her sheepishly. A thank you would be more than appropriate right now, but you were too proud to do so. Therefore, you only hummed shortly in response before quickly stealing back your wand and stepping out of your hideout.

“Lumos.”

Once again, you illuminated the corridor and checked whether any other unpleasant persons were roaming around. But aside from Jungeun, you were completely alone. Your eyes met for a brief moment before both of you stared at the floor wordlessly, not knowing what to do now. The Slytherin common room was just a few feet further down the corridor, but you felt like you should say something to Jungeun before disappearing. After all, she had saved you just now. But why? Only now you realized that she had had absolutely no reason to come here. Aside from the Slytherin common room, the dungeons were completely uninteresting. So she had just come here to save you from an encounter with one of Hogwart’s strictest professors while risking to get caught herself. That didn’t make sense at all. Deep in thought, you looked at Jungeun, but before you could sort out your thoughts, she piped up.

“You know, I just saved your ass because Snape would have probably pressed for a postponement of the game if you had been disqualified, and I didn’t practice so hard all this time for that. There was absolutely no other reason for me to save your ass, I mean it’s not like I like you or something...”

Jungeun rambled and you rolled your eyes. There was no way that she would have done all that to prevent the game from being postponed. Why did both of you have to be so proud? Maybe you were more alike than you wanted to admit. Therefore, you quickly took a step forward and pressed your hand on Jungeun’s mouth, causing her eyes to widen in shock. Your pride hadn’t really gotten you anywhere tonight, so maybe it was time to let go off it for a bit.

“Shut up for a second, will you?”

You demanded and Jungeun nodded slowly, so you removed your hand again.

“Thank you for sharing your food earlier and thank you for saving me, I really appreciate it. I don’t know, maybe you aren’t quite as annoying as I thought.”

You mumbled while scratching your neck sheepishly, seeing how Jungeun suddenly started blushing. She fidgeted with her fingers, probably not having expected you to be this honest, so you used her speechlessness to escape this awkward situation.

“Um...well, good night and thank you again.”

Before Jungeun knew what was happening to her, you swiftly wrapped your arms around her to give her body a light squeeze before abruptly pushing yourself off her and running towards your common room. What had gotten into you?

That fall really had you all messed up.

[lokismusings]

Russell T Davies on straight actors and gay characters.

I decided to put this here because I post a lot of Hilson stuff. As an actor, this article hit a nerve. However, as a defender of free speech, Davies is allowed to have his opinion without me thinking of him as insensitive. Just like I am allowed to have my own opinion and argument, and ask questions without being labeled “homophobic, intolerant” etc. (that would just make me laugh because have you SEEN my blog? Anyway, I’ve seen a few other websites covering this article. I am also very skeptical of everything I read, including the sources, and I try not to blindly believe everything. That being said, I felt like posting this to get other opinions and ask honest question to help my understanding. If this has already been covered on Tumblr, please feel free to send me the conversations! Some background on me: I graduated with a BA in Theatre and have worked both on and off the stage since I was twelve years old. I have directed plays and an audio play. Given my experience and dedication to my craft, I think my opinion is worth something.

Also, for the sake of this argument, I am leaving trans-actors out because that’s a whole different post. Here is the article:

https://news.sky.com/story/russell-t-davies-straight-actors-should-not-play-gay-characters-12185652

Okay, so first things first, let’s talk about this: “Speaking to the Radio Times, Davies compared a straight actor playing a gay character to black face.” Something that irks me is when one person tries to speak for a whole community and doesn’t reference people from said community who might disagree: whether it’s the LGBTQ+ community, a religious community, medical community, etc. The list goes on. Here, Davies is speaking on behalf of, or speaking for, both the LGBTQ+ community and the black community, is he not? I am genuinely asking because I would like to be more educated on this kind of speech. 

Then Davies says, "I'm not being woke about this... but I feel strongly that if I cast someone in a story, I am casting them to act as a lover, or an enemy, or someone on drugs or a criminal or a saint... they are NOT there to 'act gay' because 'acting gay' is a bunch of codes for a performance.” Does that not discredit his whole statement? If any actor does a caricature version of anything and doesn’t take it seriously or really works to get into the role and the mindset of a character, they’re not a good actor. At least, they’re not an actor that I’d want to hire. Second, by the logic that a straight person shouldn’t play a gay character, should someone without a criminal record not be able to play a criminal character? Before you go off and say “it’s about identity and sexuality, and playing a criminal is about the choice to break the law” or other arguments, I hear you. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the experience. How can an actor who has never committed a crime play a criminal character authentically? They do their research: reading, interviewing, etc. I’m not saying that an actor with a few minor marks on his record shouldn’t be considered for the same role. I’m saying that in an audition setting, if both of these actors were auditing for the role and the non-criminal-record actor just happened to do a better job and fit what the director and/or writer wanted, is that a mark against the criminal-record-actor? Maybe personally because we don’t know what the director is thinking. But chances are, it’s not a mark against the other actor. The other one just happened to have a better audition. Or, a major factor when considering casting, said actor was easy to work with--I’ve seen a lot of talented actors lose a lot of roles because of their inability to take criticism or notes. 

Plus, the whole “Breaking Bad” series?? I highly doubt the main actors were meth-making drug-lords. Or, a better example, “The Wire?” In that show, we see the constant battle and deals between drug-lords and cops. 

Another point I’d like to make:  “...is a bunch of codes for a performance.” That’s exactly right. The audience doesn’t want to know an actor is “performing.” We know that going in, with what is called “suspension of disbelief.” We know the whole show is a performance, but we also expect the actors to be truthful (unless it’s a comedy/farce, but again, that’s a different argument). 

Was it bad that, before 2020, some main characters in TV shows were portrayed as straight but the writers ended up “queer-baiting?” I am referring, of course, to House, M.D. (If you follow this blog, you’ll understand.) But I am also referring to the BBC Sherlock Holmes series. Yes, both pairs of characters (House and Wilson; Holmes and Watson) are assumed to be straight. However, some episodes allude that there could also be something more there. Even the actors have said in various interviews that they aren’t sure if it’s a true romance that the characters are afraid to face, or just a strong bond between best friends that blurs the line between platonic and romantic. I’m paraphrasing, but you get the picture. Therefore, should these characters have only been played by straight actors who are questioning their sexuality or feelings for a best friend? Would it have been disrespectful to gay people if these characters ended up becoming romantically involved? (If we ask the Hilson and Johnlock community, I’m guessing that’s a resounding “NO WAY! IT WOULD BE A DREAM COME TRUE!” xD <3) 

“It's about authenticity, the taste of 2020.” *Cinema Sins sigh*

"You wouldn't cast someone able-bodied and put them in a wheelchair...” Again I say, directors and casting directors need to ALWAYS search for someone who is in a wheelchair, or deaf, or HOH, etc. before looking for an able-bodied actor to play a character with that disability (I’m iffy on the whole term “disability because of its negative connotations, but I’m using that word in order to keep this post as long as possible). But I give you the example of Rainman with Dustin Hoffman. Or A Beautiful Mind with Russell Crowe. Or the play and movie Proof, where the father had a mental illness?  Anthony Hopkins was diagnosed late in life with Asperger’s Syndrome, but the father in Proof was written to allude more to schizophrenia. And yet, Anthony Hopkins did a tremendous job in that role. Or Even Forrest Gump with Tom Hanks. Many people today love Tom Hanks and laud him as a “woke” celebrity. But if he were to portray the role of Forrest Gump today, how many people would try to “cancel” him or at least have very strong words for the director not casting an actor with autism, due to the character’s autistic tendencies? A whole lot of people on the internet and Twitter, I’ll bet. As someone who struggles with anxiety and panic disorder, would I be upset if someone without that mental illness got cast in a role of a character struggling with that? Sure I would. But if they did an authentic job and approached the role respectfully, it would be hard to stay irritated. Besides, there are always more roles created practically everyday. 

To continue on with Davies’ quote: “...you wouldn't black someone up.” Yikes. I’m sure he didn’t mean this in a cast-off kind of way, but that’s how it comes across. I can see now why he said he wasn’t “being woke about this,” because a more “woke” way of putting that would be...what, exactly? “You wouldn’t cast a non-black person in a black role.” That sounds better and less harsh. Or even “a white person in a minority role.” Which should be common sense, and I agree with both statements. 

And then “Authenticity is leading us to joyous places." Oh! Look at that! There’s that word that I’ve been using and emphasizing throughout this whole post! Authenticity is one major brick in the foundation of good, credible acting. 

“High-profile examples of straight performers playing LGBTQ+ characters include Rami Malek's Oscar-winning portrayal of Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody, and Taron Egerton's Golden Globe-winning turn as Sir Elton John in Rocketman.”

I haven’t seen Rocketman, but I saw Bohemian Rhapsody and it was great! Why am I high-lighting this movie? Because it’s the perfect example of a straight actor playing a gay character and playing it authentically, while also looking a lot like the real person they’re portraying. If a look-a-like had been cast who also happened to be gay, but couldn’t act to save their life or couldn’t bring as much as Rami brought to the role, wouldn’t that kind of put a damper on the film? And yet, Rami Maleck both looked the part and brought an authenticity to the role that many Queen fans loved and appreciated. Even the remaining Queen band members said that he did an incredible job and Freddy would be proud. I wonder if Freddy would care that Rami wasn’t gay? I doubt it, but no one can know for certain. 

Then there’s the whole term “gay face.” I personally don’t think this is the right term to use because it could possibly diminish the whole meaning and importance of “black face.” Even if Corden appeared to be mocking gay people (I never watched The Prom so I have no idea what his performance was like), calling it “gay face” takes away from and inadvertently belittles the whole dark history of “black face.” Black face’s whole history comes out of an even darker history of racist times filled with hatred and ignorance. I’m not saying that gay people haven’t had their own experiences with hate and intolerance, but isn’t kind of “un-woke” and “insensitive” to compare the hundreds of years of blatant, public racism against an entire race of people to the intolerance of homosexuals? (Again, I’m asking this genuinely because I want to learn and get other people’s opinions. I’m not trying to speak for any community, and I recognize that my personal opinion on this matter is just that: my opinion. And I could be better informed.)

Along the lines of the above paragraph, is it wrong to say or think that casting a non-minority actor in a minority role is a lot different from casting a straight actor in a gay role? Sexuality comes in all shapes, sizes, and colors; that is to say, every race has people with different sexualities. But I think it would be pretty cringe if a Caucasian actress was cast in a role meant for an Asian or African-American woman. 

Director Joe Mantello told Sky News the casting was not intentional, but rather a "very fortunate series of events".

He continued: "That being said, I think having an out gay cast really did inform the work and it took on a particular kind of tone because of that, which is not to say that's the only way to approach this material. But for this particular group, it did something that I think is very, very special. There's a chemistry that they have."

And this man summed up my entire argument! He also put into simpler terms what I have been trying to express about the beauty of theatre: there will always be special casts, especially when there’s a great chemistry from a shared experience. A "very fortunate series of events,” indeed. “The casting was not intentional...” leads me to believe that the director didn’t set out to have an all out-gay-cast, but rather, each actor brought great performances to their auditions and were considered by the director to be perfect for the roles. These actors also just happened to be gay.

If you’re still here after all of that, let me take a moment to sincerely thank you for reading the whole thing! I know it’s a lot, but I’m very passionate about acting and giving each and every actor a fair chance. Let me know what you think, and please be respectful!

[offlineaus]

╰☆☆ –lee juyeon– ☆☆╮

✎ status key ⟩| ✓ completed ; ✍ ongoing/work in progress ; ✖ abandoned ; 👑 favorite|⟨

- s h o r t f i c s // 𝚘 𝚗 𝚎 𝚜 𝚑 𝚘 𝚝 𝚜 -

↠ Unbridled ↠ It's on again ↠ Just a Crush (part 2) ↠ Darlings ↠ Cafe Au Lait 👑 ↠ Childish fear 👑

- l o n g f i c s // 𝚜 𝚎 𝚛 𝚒 𝚎 𝚜 -

↠ Picture perfect 👑✍️

genre(s): enemies to lovers, highschool au, SMAU summary/prompt: a broken pipe, a financially-struggling school, and a busy plumbing service later, the newspaper and the yearbook club find themselves sharing a common room together. nothing could go wrong. except for the fact that the head of the newspaper and the president of the yearbook club have it out for each other.

↠ Love Me A Little Less ✓

genre(s): arranged marriage, fluff, angst summary/prompt: I didn’t think it’ll hurt so much, seeing you in pain.

↠ The art of hearts ✓

genre(s): royal au, slowburn summary/prompt: trembling hands? flushed face? nervous stuttering? this wasn’t like you, you’ve never reacted like this to anyone before. so why is it that when you were with him you acted this way?

↠ Running from romeo 👑✍️

genre(s): SMAU, exes to lovers, college au, neighbor au, summary/prompt: you thought you finally ran away from your neighbor when you went to college, only to find out he’s your neighbor there too

↠ Enough for you (deleted)

genre(s): high school au, angst, suggestive summary/prompt: juyeon tells you he didn’t like to be tied down but then goes out with another person. he was never yours to begin with but you still felt betrayed; you get over him eventually but by the time juyeon sorts out his mixed feelings, it deemed too late.

↠ You and I (deleted)

genre(s): friends to lovers summary/prompt: juyeon had all the money in the world but he wasn’t satisfied. nothing made him happy, as money couldn’t buy him parents who loved each other or friends he could confide in. that was until he met you.

↠ Let's play dumb (deleted)

genre(s): friends to lovers, slight angst, fluff summary/prompt: juyeon and you were never just friends, so when you see him with someone else, you begin to distance yourself. you continue to suppress your feelings only to find out one night when juyeon suddenly kisses you that he has felt the same after all.

↠ Throw me to the wolves ✓

genre(s): action, kind of enemies to lovers, historical summary/prompt: As the king’s thief, you had been assigned to get back the stolen map of the palace. It’s easy as pie but you would have never expected such consequences of your actions and you certainly did not expect Lee Juyeon in your life.

↠ To feel free ✓

genre(s): fluff, angst, sorta suggestive, bff to lovers, SMAU summary/prompt: what happens when your idea of soulmates is corrupted and the fear of losing your soul places walls around your heart?

↠ Sugar, Spice, and Everything nice 👑✍️

genre(s): enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, SMAU 👑 summary/prompt: You’ve hated Juyeon since you laid eyes on his stupid, handsome face your freshman year. A year later and the two of you still glare at each other from across campus. Will your university’s loss of funding and a failed class be enough to change the burning hatred you have for one another, or will things between you stay the same as they’ve always been?

↠ Water ✍️

genre(s): fluff, nerd and bad girl summary/prompt: when the famous girl in school’s friendship is on the edge due to a misunderstanding, the only way out is to find a fake boyfriend, and lee juyeon just happened to be the unlucky guy.

↠ Crown of Thorns (coming soon) ✍️

genre(s): fantasy, royal au summary/prompt: faerieland is no place for mortals. having lived there your whole life, you should know this better than anyone

↠ The Star Pitcher 👑✓

genre(s): highschool au summary/prompt: The perks of baseball season consisted of seeing your cute guy friends in their uniforms, soft pretzels, and the excuse to get out of your house and sit in the warm summer sun. The downside? One of your cute guy friends was also the team’s pitcher who you were madly in love with.

[sweet-cynical-writer]

Zai's notes: Hello, hello~ finally I finished a wonderful Angst collab with my lovely daughter @soukokuwu ! I'm very pleased with how this came out. I had fun writing this with her as well. I hope we can collab again soon~!

rachel's rambling: — thanks for being patient, father, this could have been done ages ago but i’m horrible XD it was a pleasure to work together on this & i hope you guys like it too ^.^

Genre: Pure Angst!

Pairing: Soukoku

Warnings: Heavy Gore, Cursing, Death!

He’s supposed to be happy, isn’t he? This is what he’s wanted for so long. So why? Why isn’t he excited? Why is it that all he feels is a certain... longing?

The sharp edge of the blade is pressing against his neck, with a force strong enough to hurt but not hard enough to pierce his skin. A video camera is atop a tripod, a few feet away from him. And as the criminal asks him, “any last words?”, Dazai finds himself staring vacantly into the eyes of the camera, wishing he could see the clear azure eyes of his friend, his lover, on the other side.

No, this is all wrong, he thinks to himself as he ignores the cold steel against his throat. This isn’t the death he wants. Not like this.

Dazai hates the fact he’s going to die by the hands of a common criminal. He decides against confessing his feelings — that’s probably not what the redhead needs. No, what he needs is a message of some sort, to keep him intact after the inevitable happens. Dazai knows it; he’s not going to make it out of this alive.

"Don't lose control. Stay level headed."

He says it so calmly, so smoothly. It nearly makes the killer shiver in disgust. This man truly is a suicidal maniac — who else would look so calm in the face of death? No matter, the kidnapper is happy to oblige as he grasps at a fist full of brown hair, angling it for the perfect cut.

With a swift motion, the sharp edge of the blade slices easily into and across Dazai’s flesh.

It’s horrible, so horrible. Dazai can feel the unbearable pain as it happens. It hurts. Deep shades of red spills from his open gash wound. He sees it. It burns. It stings. Overwhelming sensations fill Dazai's body as he bleeds out heavily from his head being ripped off. No one would doubt if the culprit says he’s a butcher, not with such deft knifework. No one would doubt that he’s despicable either, from how he laughs like a maniac in right into the camera.

And on the other end, a redhead looks on in disgust as that man — no, that monster — holds his lover’s head so carelessly; his frenzied laughter the only sound ringing in the still air.

Gloved hands bang the table in front of him. Grief, frustration, helplessness; they all meld into one as the video stills on the frame of Dazai’s dismembered head.

The sounds of Mori and Kouyou calling after him as he trudges out of the meeting room doesn’t register in his head. Neither do the tears streaming down his face.

“Don’t lose control”? “Stay level headed”? What the fuck kind of last words were they to say when you knew your lover was on the other line? Even if he did want death, no ‘I love you’s? No ‘I’m sorry’s?

The lack of affection — no, the lack of emotion behind his words makes Chuuya upset. He doesn’t even try to contain himself. How can this suicidal maniac be so damn selfish?!

"I'm going to fucking track them down...” He growls between gritted teeth. Chuuya can feel the anger consuming him. But he doesn’t care. “They won’t get away with killing off my partner like that!"

Their hideout is easily found, given the poor effort in hiding the background in the tape. Such an obvious skyscraper that nestled in the middle of Yokohama. How can anyone miss it? It’s a visible pathway, an easy task for someone brave enough to hunt them down.

A mere half hour and Chuuya’s figures it out. How much easier can they make it for him? Chuuya knows that something is fishy here — it’s never usually this easy. But he’s too blinded by his own rage, by the will to avenge his lover’s death. He doesn’t care, nothing else matters. Not even the question tugging at his brain — why was it that they made it so easy?

But one thing he definitely knows is that the enemy isn’t stupid, no. They’re highly intelligent and positively ruthless; to be able to catch Dazai and — Chuuya has to gulp at the thought — kill him in the same night? They might as well declare war against the Port Mafia. And Chuuya is right here to deliver just that.

It still irks him, about the way everything was too easy. It’s like it was intentionally made so that they would be found. But why? What could their motives possibly —

And Chuuya stops in his tracks as he sees the pictures of a familiar face plastering the walls of the dilapidated warehouse — a face that he would never forget. The face of a man that was the victim of the first double black assassination.

Why is his face all over the walls?

Suddenly it all makes sense to to him. This is an act of revenge. Of course the culprit wants to be found. It’s all a scheme; a scheme to get Dazai alone first then lure Chuuya in, not just by killing off his partner but to deliberately make his hideout so obvious that it’s impossible not to be found. Adding in the fact he laughed in the footage. He wanted to antagonize Chuuya to come fight him.

And the enemy knows what Chuuya can do. And they don’t care either. They know it’s a suicide mission — that’s how much this means to them.

Even having realized the enemy's plans, Chuuya continues to walk onward in a powerful stride. It doesn’t change the fact he’s still pissed off. Now more than ever. Do they think they have the upper hand here? Do they think that Chuuya wouldn’t dare abolish them without his partner? No, if anything — he’s even more motivated. They’re not the only ones willing to throw their lives for revenge.

"I'll let gravity crush you, you son of a bitch."

Chuuya knows what Dazai would say if he was still here:

“You’re playing right into their hands, Chuuya.”

But there’s one thing that Dazai would never understand — the amount of love he harbours for the brunette. He grits his teeth as he continues the hunt. He’d never felt more human than he had the moment the dagger slit his lover’s throat. Ironic, how they finally met in the middle ground, making each other feel human, and then having that stripped away not long after. And now look where they are — Dazai is human no longer.

And neither is Chuuya.

No, in this moment, Chuuya knows he won’t let his humane side control him. Tonight, he’ll let Arahabaki take control.

Tonight, he’ll let the powers consume him.

It doesn’t take him long to find the perpetrator. His calculations are correct.  The man stands there, as if expecting Chuuya for a while now as he smokes his cigarette.

“It’s about damn time. You shouldn't keep an important man waiting, Nakahara.”

Chuuya doesn’t care to respond. Nothing matters anymore — besides taking out the target that killed his other half. Chuuya took a powerful stance that shook the ground around him.

“Grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again.”

His vision turns red and he can feel the burning hatred for that monster take over him. Chuuya doesn’t want to feel how he does in this moment, but he can’t control it. The anguish it brings him — to be reminded of the image of Dazai’s throat being slit — it’s larger than any monstrosity Chuuya knows.

As if it can’t get worse, the man has something dangling in his free hand, one Chuuya doesn’t quite notice at first. Until he brings it up against the dim lights of the warehouse.

It’s his lover’s severed head.

“I thought you might like to say some last words to your friend here~”

That is it. That is all it takes. Not that anything can stop him anyway. The only one who could had his head hanging by a vengeful man’s hands. But he feels something bubbling up inside him, surfacing in the ocean that was his anger. Chuuya winces slightly as the sight of Dazai registers in his head. What is this feeling?

It’s usually anger and power he feels as he lets Arahabaki take control. But now? As he’s destroying the entire place? Why does he feel something else?

Tears prick in his eyes. That asshole has his fingers in those brown locks he loved. How many mornings had Chuuya spent waking up with that hair in his face, tickling him awake? His gaze shifts down to his eyes, closed. Fuck, he already misses those judgemental stares of his, or the rare look of utter adoration in his eyes when they would become one. And his lips, oh his lips, the way that bastard was so sweet-tongued, Chuuya could never outwin him.

“Don’t lose control. Stay level-headed.”

Chuuya screams as he continues his rampage. What kind of fucking last words were they? He knows what it means — that Dazai doesn’t want Chuuya to follow him to the afterlife, at least not so quickly — but he doesn’t appreciate it. How can he expect the redhead to live without him? How can he expect Chuuya to be able to look himself in the mirror everyday and not want to kill himself?

No, this time, for the first time, Dazai would not get his way, Chuuya will see to that. And he does. All he remembers as his vision fades to black is the mangled body of the enemy, Dazai’s head still in his hands.

[esepoimipullula]

Alright, so... this is the utterly self-indulgent essay. XD

For any non-Italian readers: remember the introductory note on my translation of Goofy and The Perfect New Year’s Eve Handbook? About Italian Goofy (Pippo) having a huuuuuuuuuge family? Well, everyone in this family is, ofc, either just as quirky or nearly as quriky as Goofy himself... which makes for a lot of interesting personalities. Like Goofy's cousin, Indiana Pipps. Or Arizona Goof, in English. Presumably to make the joke at least a little bit subtler.

... yes, "the joke" is that he's literally an Indiana Jones parody. Who happens to be related to Goofy and look almost exactly (or exactly, depending on the story) like him. He's an "adventure archaeologist" who spends most of his time scouring South American jungles for lost pre-Colombian temples full of traps and treasure, travelling through scorching deserts to find legendary Egyptian ruins, and stumbling into fantarchaeology/Ancient Aliens/magical/mystical relics. He's brave, smart, passionate, confident to the point of being actually a bit arrogant, kind of reckless and hotheaded, a little rough, rather snarky, and has a strong sense of justice... and a bunch of strange habits and quirks. Like his penchant from entering buildings from the window rather than from the door (because that would be too easy), his preference for sleeping bags over beds and tents over houses (though he does have a house just out of Mouseton... in a dangerous swamp complete with crocodiles), his dislike and distrust for city life in general, and his love for a particular brand of strong-flavored liquorice candies called "Negritas" that almost everyone else finds adsolutely disgusting. Through the years, he's fallen in love with a bunch of female characters (starting with Clarabelle Cow, or so the internet tells me... Goof guys trying to steal her away from Horace must be a bizarre family tradition) and he's had a bunch of female characters fall in love with him, as you can expect considering he's the Dr. Jones of the Mouseverse and everything. But none of these crushes has ever really gone anywhere... whether because of a bout of obliviousness preventing him from realizing his temporary sidekick had been head over heels for him the whole time (sorry, Martina), a misguided attempt to present as a more traditional academic for a nerdy professor who unexpectedly turned out to be really into the adventurer type, or fairy law forbidding him to marry his French fairy sweetheart (yup, that happened).

Ironically, his most constant and long-lasting is with his nemesis, Dr. Kranz. (Nope, no name given.) (Yes, this is going to be an "enemies to lovers" kinda thing... except with, like, A Twist. So if you don't like that kind of dynamic or think people shouldn’t like messed-up ships or anything like that, you'd probably better stop reading.)

Kranz and Indiana appeared together in Indiana's first story, Mickey and Goofy in: Raiders of the Lost Temple by Bruno Sarda, and have been chasing each other for one reason or another ever since. Kranz is an adventure archaeologist, too, but despite being (almost) as skilled and succesful at his job as Indiana, he spends an awful lot of time following him around and trying to steal his discoveries... most often by putting on some disguise, stalking him from a distance, and popping out of nowhere with a gun and a mocking smirk as soon as Indiana finds the hidden lost idol/treasure/artifact/city.

Despite some weird occasional foray into the world of attempted world domination, Kranz is (mostly) into the whole villain business for the money and the fame. The money because he loves luxury (especially fast cars and five-star hotels) and sells a good chunk of what he finds or steals to unscrupulous clients or outright villainous organizations to afford to live the good life, and the fame because he has a big ego and (somehow, still) a reputation as a respectable archaeologist that feeds into it... and he's always trying to overshadow Indiana, because he hates being always second best to him. Which is just as well, because Indiana hates his attempts to steal his own discoveries, his criminal activities, his utter lack of ethics, and his greed. Whenever they see each other without either of them ending up on the wrong end of a gun or tied up for the local authorities to find, they usually still end up at each other's throat anyway. Or at least, insulting and teasing each other the whole time.

Except... it wasn't always like that. Back in the day, Indiana and Kranz were actually students in the same college. And roommates (YES, "and they were roommates!"). And "inseparable" best friends who got along very well despite their differences and genuinely cared for each other. And after graduating, even adventuring partners, at least occasionally. Kranz already loved money and luxury, and Indiana had already started to develop his simpler yet more bizarre tastes, but they were good together.

There's actually a recent mini-series about their college years written by Bruno Sarda himself, Young Indiana. It's pretty much a shipper's delight, as it contains high amounts of fluff, overdramatic (and suspiciously coupley imho) friendship drama with a happy ending, hugs, kisses, straight love drama taking a backseat as the focus stays firmly on the friendship drama, and a certain amount of foreshadowing of (angsty) things to come. But their old friendship was already an established fact before that...

Like in the story Indiana Pipps and the Return of Doctor Kranz, where Indiana ends up telling Mickey the story of how they parted ways and became enemies. Which was apparently inspired by something that happened in the Martin Mystère comics, but I've never read them so I wouldn't know. Long story short, Indiana and Kranz where on an expedition together when they unexpectedly found an absurdly powerful ray gun left behind by Ancient Aliens. As it turned out, by that point Kranz had already been in contact with a shady organization that would have paid good money for something like that, so he proposed they should sell the gun to them and share the profits of the sale. Indiana immediately opposed the idea, of course, being all like, "wtf dude idk about YOU apparently but I have morals and also a sense of professional ethics"... so Kranz knocked him out, took the gun, wrote him a note about how you shouldn't slap good luck away, and fled to the other side of the world, where a man from the organization would await him. But when Indiana woke up, he immediately started trying to track him, eventually ruining the sale right before it could go through and throwing the gun into the sea, where it would never be found again. At that point, Kranz swore he'd have his revenge on him by basically costantly tailing him and ruining his life and career, never leaving him a moment of peace.

Which he's sometimes been pretty succesful at, considering there's been a whole story about Indiana being so stressed due to Kranz appearing out of the blue to ruin his day, it turns into some sort of bizarre mania where he believes everyone and anyone is secretly Kranz in disguise. However, the same story also has Kranz being so stressed due to Indiana constantly foiling his schemes that he goes on a cruise to just forget about him and relax for a while... and ends up jumping off the ship when he mistakenly believes Indiana might be on it, too. So, that's a two-way street, I guess.

So, basically... friends to enemies, genuine affection being ruined by greed and ambition and turning into resentment and spite and straight-up hatred, a degree of mutual obsession and general unhealthiness. But that's not really all there is to their relationship.

There's also stories where they're forced to collaborate to reach the same goal and have to behave more or less civilly, or even where they choose to do so willingly and end up actually still being a good team. There's stories where getting good results while working together makes them behave almost amicably, as much as they're able or willing to. Stories where they acknowledge their past together, if not their old friendship, and even the similarities between them. Stories where they find themselves with someone they both look down down or hate even more than each other, and find some common ground insulting and snarking at them in-between doing the same to each other. Where they grudgingly help each other out.

And then, there's Indiana Pipps e il soccorso obbligato. The story I blame for getting me into this ship in the frist place, when I could be here reading and writing Scroldie or Dimeshipping or Donsy or Mickey/Minnie or literally any other of my Disney comics ships that people other than me actually ship.

In Il soccorso obbligato, Kranz gets kidnapped by some shady guys while he's working on a revolutionary archaeological discovery, except he's not been kidnapped and he's not actually close to finding anything that awesome, and it's all just a convoluted trap to get back at Indiana for laughing at him one time because he's terrible. But Indiana doesn't know that, and so he and Mickey rush to the rescue and fly to a whole other continent to find him...

That story really has everything. From Kranz coming up with a ridiculous and ridiculously cruel plan because he might be used to Indiana insulting him and mocking him but sometimes his former friend laughing at him and acting all superior and better than him still hurts, to Indiana actually falling for it and trying to justify to himself why he does, telling himself that after so many years spent (fighting) together there's a bond between them and he owes it to Kranz... and admitting he’s worried about him. From Indiana still remembering little details about Kranz and their past together and looking almost fond as he talks about them, to Kranz being both petty and obsessed enough to leave a journal full of insults to Indiana for him to find as a clue and setting his password to a mocking phrase about him (and Indiana, who should expect some stuff like that or at least be used to it, still getting riled up and planning on giving Kranz an earful when he finds him). From Kranz assuming Indiana would only come save him if he threw an imaginary fantarchaeological discovery into the mix because then Indiana wouldn't be able to resist his "archaeological curiosity", to Indiana considering said discovery more of a secondary concern and actually regretting and feeling almost guilty for mocking Kranz the last time they saw each other before the supposed kidnapping... and recklessly, unthinkingly running over a thin ice bridge over a gaping chasm just to get to him, throwing all caution to the wind even as he tells himself he doesn't even know why he's doing it. And the way they still KNOW each other despite everything that happened, maybe even because of everything that happened! The angst! The complicated, unspoken, repressed things! Being a softie and a sap, I'm always a sucker for "the hero and the villain actually have a bond and care for each other on some level even if it's not the healthiest or most normal thing"... but considering the history between these two? Though the story in itself is very fun and entertaining, it never fails to break my heart a little.

And in all honesty, I might end up writing fanfictions about them. Fanfictions full of angst and pining and conflicted feelings and "we were never lovers but oh god we could have been --- if you hadn't screwed up everything in the end, at least" college stuff with a mess of obliviousness and repressed feelings, most likely.

[melancholydreadfuldream]

shattered and hollow

Fandom: Doctor Who

Summary: You hated the Doctor and so you joined his enemy.

 Warning: ooc, some angst, plot holes, weak plotline, mention of abuse, suicide, death, etc

      You were on your knees on the floor, handcuff around your wrists as you stared blankly at nothing as everyone around you spoke louder at each other trying to decide a fitting punishment for your crime. At one point, they even talked to you but you ignored them.

  You had lose...again. He, you thought with disdain, had won again. The Doctor. The bane of your existence. Just thinking about him already made you want to puke or maybe that because you are currently unwell after being imprisoned and starved for a few days.

  The only saving grace of your current situation was you no longer need to pretend to love the Doctor in his human form, John Smith. You no longer need to endure his touches. 

  You hated yourself though for failing your mission from the Kovarian Chapter. At the beginning, they recruited you for your grudge against the Doctor. You were trained to be soldier and you are quite good at it. 

  You were hoping that the Kovarian Chapter will succeed in killing the Doctor but of course that didn't happen.

  You were tasked to watch over John Smith. You had no idea that he is actually the Doctor in human form. You might be part of Kovarian Chapter but you are only a foot soldier so when they tasked you with important task to watch over John, you accepted. Had you known his real identity, you would have killed him on the spot.

  You were seven years old when you first met the Doctor. You found out he was at his ninth incarnation at the time. He was responsible for the downfall of your parents. He set in motion a rebellion against your parents, causing their death at the hands of the angry mob. He was 'liberating' the people and then just flew away in his Tardis, not caring about what happened afterward or what happened to you, the young daughter of the family most hated by the people.

You were suffering in the mercy of the people who hated your parents. You were starved and abused and was made a slave as a punishment regardless you were just an innocent child. To the people, you got to live happily before while they were miserable so they are returning the favour tenfold.

  You cried a lot and hating everyone around you but you somehow able to survive through the years solely with a thought to someday get revenge on the Doctor.

  It was when you are sixteen years old, you were able to escape your tormenters. You live on the street until the church found you and offered you a better life and a chance of revenge.

  You were blinded by the offer of revenge that you accepted their offer without a thought of the consequence. You can hardly regret it since they gave you a slightly better life than before.

  It was there you met the Kovarian Chapter's little princess, little Melody Pond. You were told to keep watch of her. It was easy enough. Melody is a polite and quiet child. Eventually she started talking to you and found out a common ground that the Doctor ruined both of your life. According to Melody, the Doctor took her parents away from her too.

  You grew fond of Melody. You felt bad for her though because despite being called princess, Melody had to endure a much more harsh training even more than you and she was just a kid. She was seven years old, the same age as you when you lost your parents.

  You grew close with her as her caretaker and guardian but Madam Kovarian frowned upon your friendship which is seen as a hindrance for Melody's training. As a result, you were taken away to do a different duty.

  You were worried for Melody but keep your head down for fear being kicked out of the church and losing the chance to get revenge.

  Years later, you were tasked to watch over and insert yourself on the life of one John Smith. You were told to 'use your feminine wiles and more', whatever it takes to ensure John gets attached with you.

  When you found out that John actually the Doctor, you felt sick. You felt like you are being played. But your handler told you that you were actually being put with the greatest advantage to hurt the Doctor. John is wrapped around your fingers after all. They wanted to ensure John will never be able to get his real identity back nor will he want to when the time come...for your sake.

  Before knowing who John really is, you were actually torn with your developing feeling for him, that you might ended up catching real feeling for him. But after you knew the truth, your hatred for the Doctor resurfaced and how can you love this bastard, the face-changer, anymore? You can't.

  Your handler adviced to endure it and continue to pretend.

  But the Doctor's companion is very persistant in trying to rescue him.

  Your job is to make sure John stay attached with you and you thought you done well. Apparantly not. John noticed the change in you in regard of him. Despite you trying to distract him by marrying him and settle into a fake marriage life with him, he still ended up meeting his companion and somehow got his time lord conciousness returned to him.

  You were hunted by Torchwood under the name of the Doctor. You were rescued by Melody. You didn't recognize her. She was a young teenager with dark skin. She recognized you though and a bit protective of you.

  That was when you found out Melody is half-time lord like the Doctor. Melody looked a bit insecure after the revelation, it was almost like she was afraid of your reaction.

  "Do you hate me now?" Melody asked.

  "I could never hate you, Melody."

  She beamed at you. "Mels. Call me Mels."

  You smiled softly at her.

  Unfortunately you got orders to return to play victim in the hope to still be able to play on the Doctor's, no, John's feeling for you. You were very reluctant.

  Melody adviced you if or when you get caught, you should surrender to their will and plead guilty. She will then figure out a way to rescue you. But you are not stupid or naive. To Melody, you might be important. To the church, you are a loose end. You know it will only a matter of time before they try to get rid of you. Melody must have known too, that's why she told you secretly to run whenever you can.

  You realized now why Melody got the status 'princess' within the church. She is their ultimate secret weapon against the Doctor.

  You hated the Doctor but you have mixed feeling for John. But it is no longer matter, isn't it? John is gone now. There is only that man. And you wished for nothing but the Doctor's destruction.

  You hope Melody will be able to make that man suffer.

  You were caught and imprisoned where you were on trial on the crime you commited in order to ensure John is never found out. Obviously you failed.

  You hated these people who regarded the Doctor as their savior, their protecter and friends to some. You wished you could kill the Doctor so called friends if only to ensure the Doctor suffer from their loss just as you suffered the loss of your parents.

  As you waited for the final judgement, you didn't fight back but you didn't plead guilty either. You didn't feel guilty, you convinced yourself. You did it all in order to ensure the Doctor's destruction.

  You knew that your parents were not good people but they were still your parents and you love them. The Doctor took them away from you and left you to rot. Just as he did now.

  You chuckled harshly.

  You were slapped for what they called insolent. You didn't care about what they said to you and they were furious for not getting the reaction they are expecting.

  You didn't expect the sound of wheezing Tardis or for the blue box to materialized just outside the room. The Doctor dressed as himself now entered the room confidently.

  You were shaking, not in fear, but in rage when you saw him. You wanted to kill him. He might have different face from the man you met when you were a child and he might be wearing the face of John, your almost lover, but he is now the Doctor. You could see it, that arrogance of the same time lord who cursed your childhood.

  From the way he look at you, he has not figured out your true identity yet. He glanced at you with almost dark look with a tad of...fondness?

  He moved to talk with your judges. You glared at his back but you couldn't hear what they were discussing. He has a very serious look, one the church will says the look of the oncoming storm as he threaten them with just a few words.

  Next thing you know, they decided to release you into the Doctor's care.

  Your eyes widened in disbelief. You glanced up at the Doctor who is now standing in front of you, staring at you without words.

  "No." You whispered hoarsely. "No." You repeated louder. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

  The Doctor gave you a flat look. "You don't have a choice, wife." 

  You flinched at that.

  "I know you are acting under orders. I just haven't figure out who yet. You will tell me who made you do this." 

  "No one made me do this. I do this on my own free will, Doctor." You spatted. "You still haven't figure out who I really am, have you?" You glared at him in fury as you named the planet and the years your parents died.

  The Doctor frowned before his eyes widened. His mouth dropped open. "I'm so sorry." He replied solemnly, eyes filled with guilt.

  You sneered. "Sorry? You think everything can be fixed with that stupid word?"

  "Take off her handcuff." The Doctor suddenly said.

  You were taken aback by the order. Everyone in the room also confused by the Doctor's order.

  "Now." The Doctor repeated.

  "We agreed to release her to you in a few days, Doctor."

  "Now." The Doctor kept repeating that words as he glanced at them.

  They finally obeyed him and moved to release your handcuff.

  You glared at him but refused to move from your spot on the floor.

  "Don't make this hard on yourself, (name)." The Doctor said. He raised his hand toward you.

  "No." You firmly said as you glared still at him.

  He sighed as he pinched his nose in exasperation.

  As he moved aside, you saw a silent figure on the corner of the room. When you saw the figure in dark suit staring at you with its fathomless eyes, you suddenly knew what you have to do.

  You slowly stood up, not taking your eyes off the silence.

  The Doctor walked toward the Tardis before turning to you. "Come on, (name)."

  You took your eyes off the silence and obediently moved toward the Doctor but at the last minute, you suddenly attacked one of the officers and grabbed his gun. You hit him with the gun before turning to point the gun at the Doctor.

  "(name), please just drop the gun." The Doctor pleaded. "Just drop it and get inside the Tardis."

  You scoffed at him. "And be your prisoner? Go to hell, Doctor." You cursed him before you suddenly pulled the gun on yourself.

  "No!" The Doctor yelled as he moved to stop you.

  As your fingers moved to pull the trigger, your eyes hovered toward the silence. You swallowed as you thought of silent apologies toward Melody for not fighting to survive. But you also know your death will serve to fuel her anger toward the Doctor.

  That is what the Silence asked of you. If your death will help Melody to destroy the Doctor, then so be it. Distinctly you wondered if this is Kovarian's plan all along, letting you met Melody, be her only friend back then, making you important enough to her to warrant her anger and grief toward your death.

  You pulled the trigger just as the Doctor reached out toward you with a heartbreaking scream. Melody Pond, you better give him hell for this, you thought.

  You fell on his arms as he clutched your body and cried for you. Huh, look at that... I made him suffer a loss after all, you thought weakly before the darkness overwhelm you.

   A/N: Originally I planned to write dark!doctor forcing his fugitive wife inside his tardis for interrogating and stuff but somehow after reading GC I joined, I ended up inserting a bit of Melody Pond and somehow it takes turn into a darker turn with the reader choose that ending.

Maybe someday I will write the version I intended in the first place. So, this piece is short and weak but oh well...

[slytherin-team]

I thought it would just be easier to put this in it’s own post - some bullet points for why I unironically ship Snape and Petunia:

- the potential set-up is irresistible! Also, who wasn’t shocked when it was revealed that Snape and Petunia of all characters knew each other as kids?! I see Snape as an ultimately good person. I can’t say the same for adult Petunia but I have a lot of sympathy for child Petunia, and frankly I think adult Petunia should have been written more grey and nuanced like Snape. The Dursleys overall were a little too cartoonish and bland. It’s been said that “there’s more to Petunia’s character than meets the eye,” and that should have been shown more.

- speaking of the potential set-up - it allows for so many avenues to explore in fanfic! For example, stories where teen Petunia and teen Severus get together in Cokeworth, or the two of them coming together as adults, or stories of them raising Harry together instead of Petunia and Vernon, etc. Like there’s just so many different ways it could happen and it could range from a really, positive enlightening relationship to a really toxic or torrid love affair, and all of those could be great and interesting stories.

- we don’t get any on-screen muggle/wizard romances and that would have been interesting. I also like the idea of Petunia being with a wizard and feeling more included in the magical world and I like Severus with a muggle, maybe living a quiet life away from all the death eater stuff, kinda returning to the muggle world but in a new, positive way

- Petunia and Snape are both extremely insecure as kids/teens. Petunia never feels good enough compared to Lily and Severus never feels good enough compared to wealthy pure-bloods like James Potter. Petunia claims that her parents neglected her and favored Lily. Severus was neglected by his parents (my personal headcanon is that his mother loved him but was so beaten down by Tobias’s abuse that her health and state of mind prevented her from being a good mother). Petunia and Snape look down on each other when they meet, but actually they have more in common than Snape and Lily. Petunia can probably understand him better than someone popular and loved like Lily.

- In the movie Snape has that line about Petunia being jealous because Lily is special and she’s ordinary. This gets at the heart of Petunia’s insecurities. But here’s the thing - Snape and Petunia, who both feel that they’re not special- could be special to each other. Snape is attracted to power because he wants to be in control and not weak, which leads him down a dark path. He didn’t need the death eater stuff - he needed someone he could confide in. I always imagine him as domestic and a homebody at heart - just brewing potions in his basement or reading books in his armchair. He wants to regain a sense of control over his life but he doesn’t seek prestige to the same degree as Lucius Malfoy and has nothing but contempt for showy people like Lockhart. Petunia is also very domestic. I like the idea of her cooking and humming to herself while Snape brews his potions.

- they both suffered a lot in their youth and I just wish both of them could be happy as adults. They’re two of the most bitter, regretful characters in the series and I’m a sucker for shipping two bitter assholes together and seeing them bring each other joy lol

- They both found James Potter to be arrogant and off-putting and nothing brings two people together like the hatred of a third party.

- Again, I like how it’s easy to imagine them in a secure, happy, domestic partnership or in a really fucked up torrid affair. There’s not a huge amount of fanfic about these two but of the ones I’ve found, writers usually create either something really romantic between them, where they come together and are special to each other, or something really toxic that makes for a terrible relationship but very fun reading

- Pride & Prejudice/ “the folly of first impressions” - if you like this sort of thing, well then, you can see how this ship is appealing I’m sure

- I love it when two characters seem like opposites on the surface (Snape is greasy, unkempt, a wizard, has dark hair and dark eyes, meanwhile Petunia is neat, clean, a muggle, has blonde hair and blue eyes) but are actually really similar (both of them are precise, have a lot of pride, hurt the ones they love in order to protect their own egos, seem to love the home and the hearth, take pride in their work, have a complicated relationship with Lily, Petunia feels she’s not as good as Lily, Severus feels like he’s not good enough for Lily, are spiteful, in the DH memory scenes, they are both shown to spy and snoop around a lot, they grew up in the same town, etc)

- I love Snape and Lily as friends but I have never been a snily shipper. I don’t see them as compatible in that way. Also, I’m personally not a fan of friends -to -lovers, give me enemies-to-friends-to-lovers over the former any day.

- If any atla fans are reading this - I ship Zutara, not Kataang, so this might explain a lot as well.

- the potential Snape and Petunia romance just has so many classic elements. the folly of first impressions/ pride & prejudice thing mentioned above, two misunderstood people coming together, or two people who misunderstand each other at first then come together later, the romeo and juliet potential because of the war, etc.

- They remind me of Xellos and Filia from the anime Slayers, which was the first enemies-to-friends-to-lovers ship I really fell in love with, and they even physically resemble these two as well. Filia is a prim and proper blonde, always drinking tea and acting self-righteous. Xellos has long hair that falls into his eyes and is thought to be evil by nature yet we only see him do good in the series. Although he has a sharp tongue. This relationship is not canon either and never comes to fruition in the series but it’s heavily hinted at.

- it’s super corny and cliche but I love the whole beauty and the beast parallel, and also the hades/persephone vibe that this ship evokes

- If Petunia was a witch - she’d totally be a slytherin and I have legitimate reasons for this that have nothing to do with her being a “villain” character. Self-preservation and protecting the in-group while being cautious of outsiders are important slytherin qualities. The defensive, on-guard way Petunia acts when Snape first appears, shows her being protective of her little sister. The snobbery she exudes is reminiscent of Narcissa’s Malfoy’s snobbery, looking down on outsiders to protect or maintain the in-group basically. Petunia’s pride and the way she protects it, insisting she really didn’t want to go to Hogwarts after all, shows that self-preservation and preservation of her dignity are important to her. Pride, pride, pride! We see this in how she painstakingly tends to her home and family as well. She always wants to make a good impression and be the best.

- Nothing against Dramoine shippers but I’m not a fan of that ship. I don’t like putting the racist bully with the person he’s racist towards. Okay, so then why Snape and Petunia? Petunia can pretend to hate magic all she wants because of her jealousy but at the end of the day, she’s Lily’s sister and has magical heritage even if she’s not a witch herself. Likewise, Snape can call people with muggle parents “mudbloods” all he wants but that doesn’t change the fact that he himself has a muggle parent and literally wouldn’t exist if not for that muggle parent, as awful as he is. So, this is different to me from a pureblood supremacist and a muggleborn or muggle romance, because I don’t see either Snape or Petunia as racist, but rather, as self-loathing, and while it may not be healthy, I’m a sucker for pairing two self-loathing characters together. Also, I think character growth for both of them requires accepting the two worlds - muggle and magical- and their relation to them, and I feel like being together could keep them from going down dark paths (with Severus, Petunia can stop resenting the magical world and feel more included in it, and with Petunia, Severus can appreciate the muggle world and stop seeing every muggle as his awful father)

I can’t believe I just wrote all of this but I’m super into this ship recently and have a lot to word vomit about it. enjoy.

[spiderman-homecomeme]

off the record pt. 2

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

A/N: Hello friends!! Here is the second part to my enemies to lovers fic for spideychelle week!! I’m hoping to get this one done fairly quickly, so updates should be pretty regular! 

Enjoy 2.6k of Peter and MJ just fuckin hating eachother, passive-aggressive coffee talks, and pettiness!!

Read here or on AO3

-

It shouldn’t be this hard.

At least, in theory. 

Really, Michelle’s been through worse. 

Befriending—or at least pretending to—Peter Parker by joining him at his desk with two to-go cups of coffee should be easy—the keyword here being “should.”

But as she stands just outside the office entrance, Peter’s desk just in her line of sight, she begins to doubt her resilience. It’s a simple task: asking him to chat, offering him a cup of coffee. Something she would be comfortable asking any other coworker in an effort to gain insight on a particular subject. It’s a perfectly normal occurrence. 

So why in God’s name is the idea of sitting for longer than ten seconds with him making her legs suddenly feel as though they’re filled from hip to toe with lead? What the actual fuck is wrong with her? It’s not as if she’s worried he’ll say no—in fact, the thought hasn’t even crossed her mind until now. No one says no to free coffee. No, it’s more likely that she’s worried he’ll actually say yes and that she’ll have to spend time alone with him. The thought of actually talking to him for once is sickening. 

But, again, it’s for the greater good. For her. It’s in her best interest.  

Peter looks up as another one of their coworkers passes by with a wave, and he offers his signature, warm and homey smile that always makes her want to find the nearest trashcan and immediately vomit. Instead, she steels herself, and with a final, resolute nod, she accepts her fate, using her elbow to push through the door and into the main office. 

He doesn’t see her approach at first, or at least he pretends not to as he opens a file on his desk, rifling through the papers. Though, the look of surprise on his face—plus the way he almost drops the small stack in his hands—shows that she’s the last person he’d expected to see. “Oh, uh, hi. Michelle.” Like with the coworker from seconds before, his expression melts into a smile—albeit, a forced one. 

Wow.

“Hey…” She trails off, suddenly unsure of how the hell she’s supposed to be standing. “You.”

He squints, trying his best to keep the grin on his face as it falters slightly. “Hi,” he repeats, eyes darting down to the two cups in her hand then back up to her face.

And it’s nothing like she’d rehearsed—in her brain—earlier. Nothing at all. Why, all of a sudden, is it so hard to talk to this guy without wanting to just dump the coffee on his head and whack the folder right out of his hands? 

“Coffee?” She asks with an uncharacteristically sweet voice as she holds out one of the cups to him.

Peter lets out a quiet huff of an unsure laugh. “Um—” His gaze flits left and right. “Sure…” He trails off. 

Wordlessly, she hands him the cup, and she almost punches him right then and there when he not-so-subtly sniffs it before taking an overly cautious sip. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh, it’s good!” He speaks as if the idea that she didn’t poison his coffee is what the big shocker is. 

A muscle twitches in her jaw, and she tries to fight the way her lips want to twist into an angry frown. Of course it’s good. Michelle knows what she’s doing; she’s seen him taking the last bit of coffee in the lounge more than a dozen times, always pouring an obscene amount of milk and sugar into his mugs. 

Michelle’s not playing around; she’s here to make friends. 

Taking a sip of her own coffee to hide the anger threatening to boil over, she waits for him to speak. He hasn’t invited her to sit, and she’s not sure if she wants to be the one to initiate that particular part. She’s the one who brought the coffee. Now, the ball’s in his court. 

“Working hard?” She asks against her better judgement, and she doesn’t miss the flash of annoyance in Peter’s eyes behind his lopsided grin. 

“Obviously not as hard as you are,” he offers, an edge to his clearly forced enthusiasm, taking another drink of his coffee as he rocks back on his heels. “Heard Jameson loved the new article.”

God, she hates him so much.

“Of course he did,” she mutters under her breath. “It’s what the people want.”

God, he hates her so much.

A beat passes.

“Well thanks for the coffee—”

“Good talk—”

They both speak at the same time, both of them forcing a laugh at the jinx. His gaze holds hers for a moment, and once again, she feels that same urge to pour her hot coffee over his head, her stomach tangling in fiery knots at the brief exchange. 

Without another word, Michelle’s feet carry her away and to her own corner of the office. Unconsciously, she nearly slams her drink on her desk in her sour mood. She slumps into her chair, pulling her laptop out of her bag and occupying herself with pretending to open another word document. 

That certainly could have gone better. 

Really, how hard was it for him to be civil? She had been so kind as to bring him coffee. The least he could do is to try to make conversation without… well, without being himself. Her gaze darts up from behind the lid of her laptop, her eyes careful in watching him as he sits back in his chair, covering his face with one hand before he cards the other through his hair before it clenches into a fist on top of his desk. 

Truly, in that moment, as she continues to unconsciously watch him from across the office, she realizes that as difficult as he’s going to make this, she can’t let it stop her. No matter how much of an annoying pain-in-the-ass he is, she has to remember why she’s doing this. 

She sees him smile at another of their coworkers as they pass by before taking another tentative sip of his coffee, his eyes flitting upward as he lowers his cup.

Her chest seizes when in that split-second, his gaze meets hers as he catches her staring, and she almost gives herself whiplash with how fast she tears away, her face burning hot. 

--

After the disaster of yesterday’s impromptu coffee get-together, Michelle knows that if she wants any part of this to actually go off without a hitch, she’s going to have to change her approach. She comes into the office that morning, a brand new plan having been brewing in her mind since the previous evening, when—

“You wanna go get coffee with me?” 

Truly, she’s not sure she’s ever been more shocked and surprised at the sight of someone at her desk. Peter’s standing there, his hands buried in his pockets, shoulders held high and tight as his brows pull together in what she offhandedly thinks looks like something akin to constipation.

He seems to have beaten her to the punch. 

Perhaps her little stunt yesterday paid off.

“What?” She finds herself asking, voice acting on its own accord. 

“Do you wanna—” He coughs into a fist, clearing his throat. “Go get coffee with me?” He throws a firm thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a place down the street.” 

A beat. 

“Sure.”

In fact, Peter’s just as surprised as she is, his eyebrows darting upward for a fraction of a second before he seems to collect himself. “Great,” he responds with a tight-lipped, thin smile. When she’d come to his desk yesterday, two coffees in hand, he’d taken it as a good sign—of course, after the initial fear that she might have been poisoning him. It had been, for that moment, something that he could see becoming easier between them. But then, after she’d made that snide comment about—about whatever hell it was—he’d quickly fallen back into the same, heartburn-inducing hatred. 

It was then that he knew he had to change tactics. 

They wait for their combined lunch hours before they head out, walking in deafeningly loud silence together through the halls and out into the city streets. One of his knuckles brushes hers as they walk, and she mentally reminds herself to burn that hand later as she yanks it away. At the brief, fleeting touch, he shoves his hands into his pockets, his eyes trained ahead on the sidewalk. 

The small coffee shop is warm and inviting, though Michelle finds it to be almost too warm under her jacket as they order their drinks and settle into one of the corner booths. He orders a caramel mocha, and she wants to scoff. A kid’s drink, she thinks offhandedly, not stopping to consider the frivolity of being annoyed at someone’s drink order—one that happens to be fairly common at that. 

“So…” Peter trails off, watching with pursed lips as she stirs cinnamon into her cappuccino. 

He clears his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck as he glances around the coffee shop, almost as if he’s looking for a way out, perhaps an emergency exit. His leg bounces furiously under the table, every so often his heel tapping against the dark wood floors below, a sound that Michelle has to actively ignore in order not to just get up and leave. 

Peter stares down into his coffee—well, more like a pile of whipped cream—for a moment, lips pursing in thought as he swirls the mug in his hand. 

It’s easy to see how hard he’s thinking, and for some reason, Michelle finds herself strangely pleased at this; there’s a hint of satisfaction at the fact that it's taking him so long to say anything at all. 

But then, it becomes infuriating that he doesn’t even try to continue his initial thought. He can at least try, she thinks.

She decides, in a brief moment of what she can only assume is pity, to put him out of his misery. “It’s funny that you asked to get coffee today,” she starts, setting the wooden stirring stick to the side before taking a sip of her drink. “I was planning on asking you.”

He does seem surprised at that. “Huh. Really?”

With a hum, she sits back against the leather seat. “Really.” She briefly glances down to her clasped hands in her lap, knowing that they were now officially entering the first phase of her plan. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something—or I guess ask about… something.”

Something flashes across his face that she can’t immediately identify, and she unconsciously feels herself stiffen at the unknown expression. 

“Really?” He asks again, quirking a curious brow as he takes a long sip of his mocha. 

The corner of her lip twitches ever-so-slightly before she boldly leans forward on the table, bracing herself on her forearms. “I was wanting to ask if you could help me with an article I’m working on.”

At that, he freezes, eyes darting up to hers. He swallows slowly, and she doesn’t miss the hint of annoyance that tints his expression as he sets his mug down with a dull thud. “What kind of article?” 

As much as she wants to call him out for swan diving into a pit of hasty conclusions, she refrains. “About Spider-Man.” He bristles, jaw setting, but she doesn’t let him speak. She leans in even further, voice hushed. “The truth, this time. I’m tired of writing all this bullshit about how terrible he is. I’m done. I want the world to know who Spidey really is.”

Her words come out so earnestly, she almost believes herself. 

But it’s not like she’s completely lying. There’s truth in that particular corner of the web. 

“Really?”

It takes everything in her not to mock the question he’s asked three times already.

“Really.”

And for the first time, she sees the beginnings of a genuine—somehow, relieved—half-smile tug at the corner of Peter’s mouth. Though, his fleeting, happy expression is gone as he seems to remember himself, sitting back in his side of the booth. 

Peter, of course, is shocked that she’s the one to bring up stopping the libel in the first place. This hadn’t been part of his plan in the slightest. But, as hopeful  and relieved he is that this may be easier than he thought, he doesn’t want to let his guard down too quickly. He maintains a thoughtful expression, making sure not to seem too eager in his response. 

Michelle can see him weighing his options, can almost hear the near-rusted wheels turning as he tilts his head from side-to-side. He folds his arms across his chest, and her eyes are immediately drawn to his exposed forearms as they flex briefly. 

“What do you think?” She hastily spits out, mentally kicking herself. 

“I mean—” He starts, cutting himself off as he brings a hand to rub thoughtfully at his jaw, his tone casual. “I think it’s a great idea. Spidey, uh—he’d be happy about it. Though, not that your articles really have that much of an effect on him now, he doesn’t really care enough—”

She can feel her eye twitch, though he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Not sure if Jameson would be super happy about it, though,” Peter reasons, shrugging apologetically. 

She forces her twisting lips into a neutral expression. “Who says I plan on telling him?”

Sure, that’s a bold-faced lie—she plans on telling Jameson as soon as she can to get the green light—but that’s unimportant.

Peter cocks his head to the side, squinting slightly. “You sure something like that would even do well?” 

“Think about it,” Michelle answers easily. “A news site that’s been constantly dragging Spider-Man down suddenly having a change of heart after a thorough expose on what he does for New York, painting him as the true hero that the city needs, showing the citizens who he is?”

He nods slowly as she speaks, biting back the winning smile desperately wanting to show. 

But that expression only comes across as smug to Michelle, and she clenches her fist underneath the table before digging her nails into her leg. 

“I’m in,” Peter says after a beat. He leans forward on the table, his hands clasping together. “What do you need from me?”

“Well, first, I’d like to interview you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You.”

“Why me?”

She gives him a pointed, deadpan stare. “You’re his photographer aren’t you? And you seem to know him pretty well.”

“I mean, not that well—”

A beat passes. 

She blinks. 

“Okay, fine. Yeah,” Peter concedes. “You can interview me. What else?”

A smirk tugs at her lips. 

“I’d like an interview with Spider-Man.”

At that, he blanches, and for a split-second, there’s a tugging dread in Michelle’s gut that she’s gone too far with that one request, but it’s instantly smothered as she waits for him to respond. 

Peter stares at her, mouth parted in slight surprise. Really, he knows he should have seen this coming; writing an article all about Spider-Man and the things he does for this city, of course she’d want an interview with him. And although he feels as if he’s already succeeded in his plan, he knows that this isn’t a one-way street, that in order for him to really win, he has to give her this one thing. 

Though, his main worry stems from knowing that as an excellent investigative journalist, Michelle’s observation skills are nothing to joke about. How she’d be able interview the two of them—Peter Parker and Spider-Man—and not immediately connect the dots, he’s not sure. 

“I know he’s busy, but—” Michelle cuts in again. “I think it’d be really great to get exact quotes from the guy himself.”

Peter looks right back at her, contemplating. The corner of his lip twitches upward into a small, wry grin as he huffs, glancing to the side before meeting her gaze again. 

He figures that’s just a chance he’s going to have to take.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

[inyournightmares97]

Ultimatum (Part 2)

Park Jinyoung is a master negotiator. He’s used to preying on people’s weaknesses and manipulating them to get his way. So he can’t understand you; a lawyer who sees the world in black and white, as either good or bad. Conflict is inevitable.

But if the two of you can just set aside your differences, perhaps you can perform miracles together.

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Angst, office!au, enemies to lovers!au. Some language.

Part 1: In Which You Win

Part 2: In Which He Wins

Part 3: In Which the Common Enemy Appears

Part 4: In Which You Work Together

Part 5: In Which Nobody Wins (coming soon)

Part 6: In Which Everybody Wins (coming soon) 

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

It was like taking candy from a child. 

Cruel, but easy. 

“Do you know what this is, Yugyeom?” Jinyoung asked with a handsome smile. He leaned against Yugyeom’s desk gracefully, his expensive suit making the wooden table look dull in comparison. Jinyoung held a small sheaf of papers in his hand. “I just received this from IT. I think you’ll find it makes for very interesting reading.”

Yugyeom didn’t look up. You had just left the office for a meeting and he really didn’t want to deal with Park Jinyoung in your absence. 

“Huh. Maybe put it down there and I’ll take a look at it when I have time,” Yugyeom muttered, trying to focus on the work he was supposed to be doing. He could feel Jinyoung’s dark eyes piercing into his skull. 

“Are you sure? I think you want to read it now.”

“Not really.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “I see. You’d like me to leave it here for your boss to find when she comes back? Because I’m sure she’d be fascinated to go through your internet browsing history. There are some real gems in here.”

Yugyeom recoiled. “What?”

“The more recent ones are a delight. Let me see. ‘How to ask a girl out’ and ‘is it okay to date an intern’ and pick-up lines in Japanese. Is Hana Japanese? How ignorant of me, I never bothered to ask her. Oh! But I see if we go a couple months back then you enjoyed one particularly late night at the office alone, hmm? On 17th October at 11pm? Sounds like a wild ride. Busty brunettes-”

Yugyeom leapt to his feet and snatched the sheaf of papers, crumpling them up instantly. His cheeks and ears turned a bright red and he looked around furtively. Luckily you had stepped out for a meeting and Youngjae, the only other member of the Legal department, had gone to the cafeteria. 

“Stop it. Please. Where did you even get that?” Yugyeom pleaded. 

“I have friends in IT, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung explained as Yugyeom desperately ripped up the papers and tossed them into the bin under his desk. “I also have more copies of that.”

“I suppose you mean Mark Tuan. He’s not supposed to be releasing employee data like that. It’s against company policy for IT to disclose personal data to employees from other departments who don’t have clearance,” Yugyeom ranted, his brown eyes looking panicked. “It’s a breach of confidential information. So you can’t use that evidence against me because you obtained it illegally and without clearance-”

Jinyoung chuckled as he folded his arms across his chest. “Yugyeom. You poor child. You don’t understand how the world works, do you? I don’t need clearance to accidentally send this information to the rest of the office. What’s the worst that could happen to me? A formal reprimand, maybe a warning. But you… you’re going to face a lot worse.”

Yugyeom swallowed nervously. “Like what?”

Jinyoung leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Like Hana finding out about your taste for brunettes even before you’ve asked her on a date.”

“Fuck.”

“What do you think? Does this seem like a risk you want to be taking?”

Yugyeom clenched his fists with hatred. “What do you want?”

Jinyoung grinned despicably and rolled up his sleeves. 

“That’s more like it. Let’s have a negotiation, shall we? It’s what I do best, after all.”

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

Yugyeom had been acting suspiciously silent all afternoon. 

“Are you okay?” you asked him with a kind smile. 

The young law graduate had only been working under you for a year, but his bright attitude and easy-going personality were the best things about him. Yugyeom could be clumsy and careless but he never lost his smile. Ever since you’d returned from your meeting, though, he had only been giving you one-word answers and avoiding your gaze. 

“Fine,” he muttered. 

“Are you sure? You’ve been pretty silent since I got back from my meeting.”

“Maybe something I ate at lunch didn’t agree with me,” he mumbled. Yugyeom’s face was white and you patted his back sympathetically. Poor kid. He’d been working hard with the big restructuring coming up soon. 

“I’m leaving early today since I have to go visit my Mom. You should go home too. And drink some soup,” you suggested as you packed up your belongings. “We’ve been overworking ourselves. Nobody seems to appreciate that we’re the only thing standing between this company and a massive lawsuit.” you complained. Jinyoung’s despicable face popped up in your mind. “How dare he call our job a mere formality. That arrogant bastard.”

Yugyeom hiccuped nervously. 

You smiled at him. “Here, drink some water. I’m guessing Park Jinyoung didn’t come by today?”

“W-what? No. Why? Did you see him?” 

“Of course not. I was at my meeting most of the day. I assumed he’d come down here and try to bother you about the term sheet again,” you replied. It wasn’t like Jinyoung to give up easily. “I’m surprised he hasn’t done anything yet. He only has two days until his deadline. He must have some plan?”

Yugyeom forced a smile. “Maybe you scared him.”

“Maybe,” you mused. “Anyway, I’m leaving. Go home, Yugyeom. Get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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

“I need you to personally review the documents relating to the opening of our new office in Busan,” the CEO told you. “It’s important that nothing goes wrong during this restructuring. We need it to work in order to cut costs here at the Seoul office, but if we have legal problems then we could end up spending more than we save.”

You nodded, clutching the files to your chest. “Right. I understand, sir. We’ll take care of it.”

“I know I can count on you. Okay. That’s all for today, I have another meeting in a few minutes. Dismissed.”

You walked out of the CEOs office with a sigh, wondering how you had just been piled with more work than ever when you’d really wanted to take a few days off this week. Things were getting tougher. Your mind was preoccupied as you walked and you collided with a hard chest covered in an expensive suit. 

“Hello there,” Jinyoung’s deep voice greeted, sounding amused as he reached out to help you straighten up. You looked into his dark eyes. The man’s hands were soft and warm on your skin, unlike his personality.

You frowned at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a meeting with the CEO,” he informed you smugly. 

“About what?”

“None of your business. Run along and go pretend to be important elsewhere,” he told you airily. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. Something wasn’t right. Park Jinyoung shouldn’t be this happy. There was a sparkle in his dark eyes and even the way the corner of his lips was curved up suggested that he knew something you didn’t. 

Something smelled fishy. 

“How are you so calm? I don’t understand. Your client expects to be signing the agreement tomorrow and you haven’t even got a term sheet approved,” you reminded him. You’d checked with Hana and she had confirmed that Jinyoung would be meeting with the client tomorrow afternoon. What was he going to take to them? 

“You know what? I think I’ll manage.”

“Manage how?” you demanded. 

“There’s no fun in me telling you that, now is there?” Jinyoung asked. He coolly ran his fingers through his hair. “Keep your schedule vacant tomorrow. I imagine the entire office will be having a party to celebrate me securing the biggest deal of the year. It would be a shame if you missed it.”

“I can’t miss a party that won’t happen,” you snapped. 

“Sure, let’s see who wins this one. Spoiler alert: it’s me. It’s always me,” Jinyoung informed you with a pearly-white smile. He patted you on the head in a condescending manner that made your blood boil (how dare he: you were a fully grown woman!) and then calmly walked past you to enter the CEOs office. 

What was happening? 

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

At 8:34 pm on Tuesday night, Kim Yugyeom burst into tears and confessed everything. 

You weren't surprised, only angry. It was just like Park Jinyoung to prey on a person's weakness. He had no shame or remorse, possessed no sense of right and wrong. He didn't even have basic decency, how could you have expected better from him? 

“Hey, look. It’s going to be fine,” Youngjae tried to console Yugyeom gently, handing him a tissue to wipe his face. Most of the office had already left for the day but Yugyeom’s tears were still running like a waterfall. The poor boy was terrified.  

“I-it’s not fine. I’m going to be fired for having approved a term sheet that was clearly against company policy-” Yugyeom whimpered. 

“Nobody has to know!” Youngjae insisted. He turned and looked at you, expecting you to reassure Yugyeom. “Nobody has to know, right? Park Jinyoung won’t say anything because his ass is on the line. There’s no reason for senior management to read the agreement thoroughly. I’m sure the CEO will just sign it since it’s such a huge deal for our company. We’ll be fine for now. It’s a seven-year contract so really, it’ll be years before anyone begins to find any problems.”

You leaned back in your chair and sighed. “Do you guys know why the company doesn’t offer sub-licensing rights as a rule?”

Youngjae blinked. “I mean, yeah-”

“It’s because the software we’re licensing out is ours. If the client is allowed to license it to other people, or sub-license, then why would anyone come to us to buy it? We’d never make sales ourselves because the client would essentially be selling our product at a cheaper rate than us. We'd lose customers, literally. Sub-licensing puts our company at a disadvantage in the long run. But Park Jinyoung doesn’t care about the long run. He doesn’t even care whether this deal will benefit the company. He just wanted the personal glory of being the first guy in Sales to secure a ten million-dollar deal.” 

Yugyeom sniffled. “I’m sorry…”

You sighed and patted him on the back. You weren’t happy with Yugyeom, but the boy was already so miserable that it seemed heartless to scold him further. 

“Let’s call it a day, Yugyeom. We’re going to have to listen to Park Jinyoung gloating tomorrow, so we need our rest.”

“You’re not going to tell the CEO?” he asked hopefully. 

You bit your lip. Every part of you was screaming to go to the CEO now and tell him that Jinyoung’s contract grossly violated company policy, but it was too late. Yugyeom’s signature was already on the sheet. The poor boy would lose his job and you didn’t want to be directly responsible for that. You gave him a small smile. 

“I’m not going to tell. But the problem might get traced back to you someday, Yugyeom. I won’t lie. I’m not sure I can save you from that.”

“I-I know.”

“How about we all go get some pizza? Let’s invite Hana too. The poor girl can never join us when Jinyoung’s around,” you said brightly, in an attempt to dissipate the dull atmosphere. “Yugyeom, why don’t you go over to Sales and let her know?”

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

Park Jinyoung probably rehearsed that despicable smile of his. 

You could picture it in your mind; Jinyoung standing in front of his mirror at home and practicing his pearly-white smile, checking to see which angles were most flattering. Jinyoung’s smile was made for the cameras, which was convenient because a press conference was held on Wednesday afternoon to announce that the two companies had entered into an enormous deal. 

You watched in silent disgust as Jinyoung smiled handsomely for the cameras and shook hands with the senior management. 

“Looks like they’re organizing a party to celebrate the deal,” Jinyoung announced loudly to Jackson as he walked past your desk later that evening, proudly carrying the small gift that the client had given him as a thank you. He was addressing his co-worker, but his dark eyes twinkled in your direction. “There’ll be lots of free booze. We’re going to need a designated driver.”

Jackson laughed. “Don’t look at me! I intend to get sloshed!”

“Oh, I’m sure someone from Legal will volunteer,” Jinyoung replied airily. “I can think of a few teetotallers in that department.”

What a prick. Like hell you would be driving his drunken ass home. 

Park Jinyoung gave you a cheeky smile and hurried past. Even the sight of his shapely posterior was not enough to calm you down. How did the man wake up every morning and live with himself? He had no shame. 

You paused for a few moments to visualise his head puffing up to three times its present size and then exploding into a billion tiny pieces, one for every dollar he’d made off the deal. The prospect made you feel marginally better and you were able to get back to work. 

You’d get your revenge. 

Although maybe not quite yet. 

“Are you all coming to the party tonight?” Hana asked hopefully, when she stopped by the Legal area on her return journey from getting Jackson coffee. Her question was addressed to all three of you but her gaze was on Yugyeom. He had been miserable all morning. His shoulders were slumped as he shuffled through some documents half-heartedly. 

“Of course we’re coming,” you told her. 

Yugyeom blinked. “Actually-”

“We’re coming. We did some work on that deal too, we deserve to be there,” you replied. You gave Yugyeom a firm look. “You’re not going to avoid it. If nothing else, at least enjoy the free drinks. Why would you refuse when the company is paying?”

“Right…” Yugyeom mumbled. 

“Can I come with you guys?” Hana asked shyly. “I don’t really want to go with the rest of the Sales team. Mr. Park is being offered a promotion, and it’s all he can talk about. I’m getting kind of tired of congratulating him on it whenever he brings it up.”

You flinched. “A promotion? Jinyoung?”

“Well… it’s not a promotion exactly. But since he’s such a good negotiator, the CEO wants him to help the Finance team make pitches to potential investors for our company. I guess that’s a step up from Sales, right?” she asked. 

Holy shit. They're sending him to our investors now? That was no small matter. Being in charge of finding clients was one thing, but to let Jinyoung talk to the company’s investors was pretty much the highest recognition they could have given him.

No wonder he had looked so pleased. 

"Of course you can come with us," you told her kindly, trying not to let your bitterness show. "I'm sure you need a break from all that toxicity up in Sales. We'll meet you after work, I think the restaurant they booked is within walking distance from here."

"Thanks!" Hana said brightly. "I'll see you!"

None of you were in a mood to celebrate Park Jinyoung's 'contributions' to the company but you decided that you would go. Hopefully a couple of drinks and some time spent with Hana would cheer Yugyeom up. Park Jinyoung could only be in one place at a time, so it should be easy to avoid him, right? 

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

It wasn't. 

Park Jinyoung seemed to actively follow you around the party. Youngjae left to hang out with his friends in IT and after the first half hour, Yugyeom and Hana found a private spot on a couch to chat with their cocktails. They looked cozy and you didn't want to disturb them, so you just stuck to the walls and smiled at people politely.  

Maybe you needed more friends. 

Then again, you’d never been one for socializing at work. You worked well with your team, sure, but you didn’t know much about their personal lives. And you didn’t spend hours in the cafeteria chatting with people from other departments. You had a pleasant working relationship with most people but you didn’t have any friends in this company. 

Oh well. 

You’d rather be alone than manipulate people the way Jinyoung did. 

You were just beginning to wonder if you could make an excuse to go home when you spotted a familiar smirk in the crowd. Park Jinyoung made his way over to you, a glass of whisky in one hand. He looked incredibly attractive. He’d unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt and his suit jacket was missing. Jinyoung’s hair was messy, and his skin flushed from the alcohol. 

“Well,” he greeted you with a smirk. “You must be the only person in the room who hasn’t congratulated me tonight. Even Yugyeom did it, although he squeezed my hand a little harder than he should have. I think you’re rubbing off on him.”

You said nothing, merely glared. 

“Oooooh, the stink eye. How terrifying,” he replied sarcastically. “Fine, don’t congratulate me. Oh! But would you mind driving me and Jackson home tonight? Everyone’s getting drunk and we can’t seem to find a ride. You don’t drink much at these kind of parties, do you?”

You held a hand out to stop a passing waiter and took two shots of hard liquor from him, one in each hand. Without breaking eye contact with Jinyoung you drank both of them in a single gulp and then set them down on the counter. Your head spun; but Jinyoung’s jaw fell slack and that was enough for you. 

“Ah, I see. You are drinking then.”

“Surprising,” you replied with a sneer, “that the man who can negotiate a ten million-dollar deal is too cheap to just take a cab home.”

Jinyoung scoffed. “Cheap? Me?”

“Oh, am I wrong?”

“You are, as a matter of fact,” he replied. The corner of his lips turned up. “I’ll prove it to you. Let me buy you a drink right now. Choose anything you want from the bar. Not the free drinks they’re handing out for our party, but the expensive stuff on the menu.”

“I wouldn’t touch a drink you bought me with a ten-foot pole,” you snapped. 

Jinyoung put a hand on his chest, looking offended. “What? What kind of a man do you think I am?”

“The kind who blackmails an innocent kid with his internet search history into signing a contract that he could be fired for having approved. Do you not think about the consequences of your actions, Park Jinyoung? Do you just go about the world doing whatever you please for your own benefit?”

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed. “Of course. Who else do my actions need to benefit?”

“Unbelievable.”

“What?” he demanded. “Nobody’s ever done anything for me. I’ve gotten everything in this world through my own hard work. You think I haven’t been stepped on or cheated? Go ahead. Worship your laws and your ethics and your fucking company policy all you want. Those things have never helped anyone. We’re all responsible for taking care of our own asses, and no rulebook can change that.”

“You’re selfish and disgusting.”

“I’m happy.”

“Are you really? How do you live with yourself? It’s lonely at the top, Park Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung scoffed. His eyes looked around the room proudly. “Lonely? This party is being celebrated for my achievements. I’ve been congratulated by every single person here. I’m getting a raise and I’m about to be promoted. Do I look lonely? You’re the one who doesn’t have any friends here. All you do is act like a teacher’s pet and preach your moral superiority. It’s annoying.”

You flinched. “What?”

“It’s true, isn’t it? Nobody likes a goody-two-shoes. This isn’t primary school. There are no prizes for following the rules. Grow up.”

“I cannot believe your nerve.”

“No, you just can’t believe that your stupid company policy was wrong and that I found a better way to handle things on my own.”

“On your own? You blackmailed a kid! He could lose his job! And why? To secure that precious ten million-dollar deal? That deal is going to hurt the company in the long run and you knew it from the start! Not a single person benefits from this entire manipulative mess except for you!” you snapped. 

Jinyoung blinked. “Then go tell on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go on, teacher’s pet. Be a tattletale. Go tell the CEO. I’ll lose my job. Yugyeom will lose his job. And your precious company will be saved from the big, bad sublicensing term. I dare you to do it,” he challenged you. 

Your fists clenched. For a moment, you pictured yourself punching Park Jinyoung in the face, or throwing a martini onto his expensive shirt. How dare he create a problem and challenge you to fix it? How dare he pretend that he was right after his childish and selfish behaviour? You stared at him in disgust. 

“I hate you,” you snapped. 

Jinyoung smirked. “Are you sure? Or do you maybe just hate yourself? Because you’re so proud of always following the company policy and being a stickler for the rules but you can’t even bring yourself to tell the truth. You can fool yourself that you’re better than me all you want. But you’re complicit in this whole deal.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckled. “What?”

“Fuck. You, Park Jinyoung,” you hissed as you turned to leave. “I can’t even look at you.”

“Are you sure?” Jinyoung called after you with a delighted laugh, as you hurried away. If you stayed then you would surely hit him, and you didn’t want to do that. “Because there’s a rumour around work that you can’t stop looking at my butt!”

You turned back to stare at him in disbelief. What? 

Jinyoung simply grinned. His dark eyes were twinkling mischievously and he lifted the hand carrying his drink to show off his forearm below his rolled-up sleeves. Jinyoung’s dark hair fell into his eyes, and there was something extremely kissable about those plump lips of his as he mouthed the words that made your blood boil. 

I win.

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