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ladyvillainous · 2 years

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Eddie Munson Alphabet SFW Version

Mix of head canon’s in this one some are as if you’re his girlfirened some are if you’re just freinds, alot are friends to lovers and some would apply either way.

Again might turn this into a bit of a miniseries as it gave me some ideas, i’ll post the ones i’ve written so far asap and mark them below (Don’t know how to link them yet though, be patient i’m new to posting on tumblr)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s not one for touching unnecessarily but you are, the first time you leapt into his arms shocked him, not least because you were just friends. You didn’t think anything of grabbing his hand and pulling him along behind you or sitting on his lap if there was nowhere else to sit. It took him a while to get used to it though he never allowed you to see he was uncomfortable, eventually he even grew to love it happily throwing an arm around you wait when you were on his lap or an arm over your shoulder as you left school at the end of the day. It was about then he realised he had feelings for you, it wasn’t until he realised you weren’t like that with anyone else that he suspected you might like him too.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Arguments over bands and D&D campaigns, teasing about typical teenage issues as you grew up but fiercely protective of each other, no one else gets to tease either of you about the same things you do.

You met late in Middle school or maybe early in High school but Eddie was a couple of years older so he ignored you to begin with, difficult to ignore the 5foot nothing firecracker screaming at him about Metallica though, at least not for long

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Only with you and only because you initiated it, the only exception being if you were upset when he would scoop you into his arms and beg you to stop crying his heart breaking to see you like this

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Cleaning what’s that? Generally he’s not dirty just messy but you’d still have to remind him to pick up his dirty socks and take his empty plates to the kitchen where he’d just deposit them in the sink without washing them. It’s not that he’s lazy he just doesn’t see that it needs doing.

Can’t cook but he can reheat a mean frozen pizza…. Anything frozen in fact but fresh food would mystify him. The day you cooked a lasagne from scratch fascinated him, he did try to recreate it but nearly set the trailer on fire so he sticks to frozen food now

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Would most likely ghost them just stop talking to them or returning their calls, not to be mean but because he doesn’t like emotional confrontation and figures it’s the easiest way for both of you

As a friend might ask you to talk to the girl in question which you refuse to do until you realise he’s a stubborn ass and if you don’t he never will.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Claims to be a total non-conformist but in reality he likes the idea, but can’t imagine anyone wanting to tie themselves to him permanently. In a long term relationship he would probably never propose even if there were kids most likely because he thought he’d let it go on too long and was a bit embarrassed. Might blurt out a proposal one day taking you by surprise but he got the biggest surprise when you said yes he didn’t even have a ring for you removing one from his own hand to give you apologetically but you didn’t care in fact you thought it was more meaningful as you were the one to give him that ring years ago.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

That boy is mush on the inside. He likes to put on this big scary front but it’s just that and a way to protect himself from the gossip that has followed him since he was a kid.

Physically he would never hurt anyone, unless they hurt someone he cared aboutbut even then i don’t think he’d go after someone but he’d protect you in the moment for certain

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Initially he’s awkward not used to physical affection but when he gets past that he will sweep you up into a massive bear hug when he’s excited about something which is all the time, he is a bundle of chaotic energy.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He will say it to his really close friends freely which is strange considering how tentative he is about physical affection but sometimes he feels like words are safer. Throwing out an “I love you man” is easier for him than hugging. When he starts to catch feelings he feels awkward saying it to you but can’t stop now or it would look strange though he is really bad at covering his discomfort which kinda tips you off

He’d be so nervous that he’s unlikely to say it first and if he does it’s involuntarily pulled from him surprising him just as much as you. What he doesn’t know is that he mumbles in his sleep so you already knew it’s why you didn’t hesitate to say it to him first suspecting he needed you to make the first move.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

As a friend he doesn’t like it when you seem to be spending more time with or talking about someone more than others especially when it’s not him. He doesn’t have many close friends that be can be completely himself with and when you’re not around the loneliness can get to him. He gets quiet when it happens so you can tell somethings up but dragging him out to spend the day with you at the weekend seems to do the trick.

As a BF He’s very jealous but tries to hide it, hates it when other boys look at you because he’s worried they’ll steal you away. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s that he’s never thought he was good enough for you so almost expects you to leave him for someone better one day. He’s absolutely terrible at hiding it though, turning sullen and grumpy often ending in sudden outbursts or an argument with anyone that happens to wander into the crossfire. Once or twice it’s ended in a blazing row between you but once you realised what was going on you figured out how to head it off now. Climbing into his lap at lunch and kissing him silly until a teacher has to break it up is very effective, leaves him bright red with embarrassment, very horny and in a much better mood. Otherwise PDA isn’t really his thing which the rest of hellfire very much appreciate as they don’t want to see that, although they are extremely grateful on the days when you cheer him up like that as Hellfire is a lot less tense after that.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

As friends he’s never kissed you not once even though you’ve thrown your arms around him and kissed him on the cheek a few times, he’s not completely comfortable with affection anyway and that feels too intimate to him even with you. The only exception was one night when you were both high and watching some kids movie, you’d somehow ended up cuddled up on the sofa in a tnagle of limbs giggling and without thinking he kissed you on the temple.

Even in his inebriated state he tensed up a little waiting for your reaction when he realised what he’d done, but you just sighed and snuggled in closer, that was the day he realised that his crush on you wasn’t going away anytime soon.

As a BF his kisses are all consuming you just get lost in him and he you, partly why he doens’t like PDA becuase you alwasy get interupted by someone. Will happily kiss you on the shoulder or head as he grabs you from behind or slings an arm around your shoulder on the way to class.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He is terrified of any child younger than middle school, doesn’t know how to act around them and for the most part they take one look at him and go screaming in the other direction.

The thought of having his own will bring on a complete panic attack about how he’s not responsible enough, he’d be a terrible role model etc etc

You personally think he’d make a fantastic dad not because he’d do everything right or perfectly, because lets face it he’s a bit of a disaster at the best of times. But because he would love that little one more than anything and anyone else, be their best friend and protector, he would always be there for them to the point of hovering because his dad was never there for him. Wayne took him in when he was in high school and while they have a close bond the older man isn’t quick to show his feelings, the day Eddie introduces him to his “grandson” changes all of that though.

Yes all his own kids would become metal heads he wonm’t stand for anything else, he’d turn a blind eye when they start listening to Blondie or Bowie though.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He is a night owl, mornings are horrible and cruel and he wishes they’d go away, on occasion you’ve had to run to the payphone after 1st period and ring him to wake him up, a sleepy confused Eddie on the other line until he registers the time with a loud Shit and the line going dead. The fact that he arrives only 10 minutes late to 2nd period just demonstrates he shouldn’t have a drivers licence.

You start driving him to school just so he’s not late anymore, he appreciates you looking after him but doesn’t appreciate the way you wake him sometimes. One memorable morning you had been banging on the door for 10 minutes shouting Wayne arriving home before you could get a response, you were so irritated that you grabbed a glassful of water from the kitchen marched into his bedroom and poured it on his head. What you hadn’t known and to your mutual horror Eddie had slept nude the previous night, the pair of you had shrieked so loudly that Wayne was concerned something terrible had happened. When you arrived back in the living room eyes wide in shock Eddie’s naked ass disappearing rapidly into the bathroom behind you Wayne had doubled over laughing. Yes i have written this one couodn’t get the idea out of my head

As his girlfriend it’s even harder to get him out of bed because he has a tendency to pull you into bed with him. Sometimes just to go back to sleep other times he tries to take off your clothes arguing he’d wake up much quicker if you gave him some incentive, on those days you’re both late to class.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Sometimes it takes Eddie all day to properly wake up which means by the time the world is settling down for the night he’s wide awake and bouncing off the walls. No matter how many time you point out he’d find it easier to get up for school if he went to bed earlier it falls on deaf ears. He’ll think nothing of staying up till 3am learning a new slow on his guitar or slaving away on his latest D&D campaign until it’s perfect. On the plus side on the nights you can’t sleep which happens from time to time you know he’ll still be awake if you sneak out and walk through the woods to get to his trailer. Which he hates btw and the last time you showed up unannounced drenched he made you promise to call and he’d come get you.

Once you’re a couple, nights are spent wrapped up in each other’s arms which does at least ensure Eddie goes to sleep at a reasonable hour a couple of times a week because you’ve tuckered the poor boy out

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Eddie likes to consider himself an open book thinking nothing of jumping up on the lunchtable and making his opinion heard but you know that’s a front, that’s the persona he’s created to protect himself from all the judgemental stares and whispers, he leans into the rumours and stereotypes so it can’t hurt him. You know it does though, he can keep up a front for so long and then you can see it’s starting to affect him, on those days you ditch and drag him out to the woods or lovers lake just to chill. You make him study too so he doesn’t get too find behind but at least it’s as far away from everyone else as you can get him. You never talk about it, it’s an unspoken thing between you but sometimes he’ll ask you to ditch before you’ve even noticed he was struggling, he knows you won’t say no you’re always there for him when he needs you and he adores you for it.

So much between you is unspoken and based off looks and feelings that when something fundamentally shifts between you it confuses things, suddenly you can’t read him as well as you used to and he doesn’t know how to act or explain. You get frustrated with him as he becomes more distant, it takes someone else to point out you’re both acting weird for the tension to break, even then you don’t talk you both yell get angry, frustrated which is also unusual for you both, you never fight not seriously at least. But it does the trick the truth comes out and you’re able to go back to normal or at least normal + now you’re together which is also something you don’t discuss it’s just accepted by both of you as a done deal.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Eddie has a short fuse which results in erratic outbursts but he calms down just as quickly, you liken him to a firecracker all bang, small sizzle. He never minded until you both got older and he realised that it sounded like you were talking about something else the first time someone sniggered. The fact that it makes him uncomfortable now makes the joke all the funnier for you though, which means he’s having to work on his patience at least around you otherwise you start teasing him.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything, how you take you coffee (Black which he hates because he can’t stand it without sugar and cream), your favourite ice cream flavour (he keeps it on hand in the freezer during summer), your favourite band (Blondie), your real favourite band but would never admit it to him because then he’d be right (Metallica)

That being said he can never quite remember on what day your birthday is or where you said you were going on spring break with your parents or what time he was supposed to meet you at the record store, but you let him off because when he does finally arrive he holds out a Daisy to you (your favourite) and you forgive him.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

That time you decked Jason first day back after summer break after you arrived late just in time for lunch. Eddie had been agitated all morning waiting for you to walk through the door, so distracted he walked straight into Jason spilling the jocks on food over his brand new varsity jacket and he was pissed. Eddie never backed down from Jason though, it was a point of pride (they have history) so when he refused to accept his apology and got up in his face Eddie was resigned to the fact that he was getting detention on his 2nd first day of senior year.

What he hadn’t expected was for you to appear as if from no where dragging Jason off him, clocking him square in the face with your fist and then kicking him in the balls while he was down for good measure. Sure Eddie still got detention for fighting on school grounds but you were there with him so it made it bearable. I’ve written a version of this for my full length fic but will adapt it and post here too

Later he would still remember that as his favourite memory of you but the first time you slept together came a very close 2nd something you’ve always found so hilarious, that it doesn’t even occur to you to be offended.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He protects his friends and sheep in his own Eddie way, primarily being the scary erratic devil worshipping dude everyone thinks he is, which keeps most people away. But that doesn’t mean he’ll run away from a fight, not with some dumb jock anyway (Demons, evil warlocks and bats are different and i think we can give him that one) though he’d never start a fight not unless he was really pissed, which you’ve only seen once and did result in a fight that saw him thrown in jail, suspended and repeating his senior year for the 1st time. I’ve wirtten this one for my full length fic not sure how well i could adapt it wihtout context

He never expects anyone to protect him not even hellfire, considers that his job but he loves it when someone does stand up for him especially when it’s you. Though he wishes no one had to and that everyone would just leave him alone, he’s glad he has you all even if he’s not always great at showing it.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He’s terrible with time keeping and remembering key dates like anniversaries or birthdays, but he’ll randomly blurt out one day “do you know this is where I was standing when I first saw you x number of years ago... remember you were wearing that fuzzy pink monstrosity of a sweater your mom picked out?” shocking you completely because you have no memory of that at all.

He always puts in extra effort for gifts even if they are a couple if days late “I thought your birthday was the 26th? It’s the 24th? Since when?” because he doesn’t have a lot of money he has to get creative which makes them extra thoughtful. One year he gave you a mix tape he’d spent all weekend crafting, another time he took an old denim jacket of his that didn’t fit anymore and customised it for you with pins and spraypaint. He’s always mega embarrassed to hand these gifts over mumbling that he knows it’s not much but you love that he’s put time and effort into making you something, no matter how big or small it is. He loves the genuine smile on your face as you gush over whatever he’s given you so much that whenever he does have a little spare cash and stumbles across something you’d like he presents you with a new pin just because.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

The boy does not wash as often as he should and thinks dunking his hair in a sinkful of warm water is good enough. Thankfully his hair is pretty dry so he gets away with it but you still struggle to hide your horror. At least once a week you force him to wash it properly handing him shampoo and conditioner and pointing towards the bathroom with a stern expression. He’d never admit it but his hair does feel nicer after that and is less frizzy.

You also make sure his supply of deodorant remains stocked and that he has spares in his van because one summer he ran out and you nearly gagged when you went round to his trailer, forcing him into the shower under threat of being hosed down as you ran out for supplies

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Doesn’t think anyone looks at him except to judge him so doesn’t really care what he looks like though he does love his leather jacket and denim vest covered in all his band patches and pins. He loves that leather jacket so much that when the zipper broke he attempted to fix it himself which backfired spectacularly, though the chain he fastened to it he claims is very metal. He doesn’t know this but the chain fell off the very next day and you fixed it when he was sleeping, he’s very proud of his skills never know it was you that did it.

Mostly he likes to look as outlandish and metal as possible as it seems to upset people which he enjoys, even though it keeps people away from him, he chose not to recognise the irony.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, once you wormed his way into his life you became his go to person, when you’re not around he feels bereft, lonely and a little bored

It takes him a while to realise it’s because you’ve taken hold of his heart too and even longer to do anything about that.

He’s not sure he believes you when you say that’s how you feel about him too because why would anyone think of him that way but you’ll still here so maybe he should start

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He cannot handle horror films, at least not ones about supernatural events that can’t be explained like Demons or Ghosts, but he’s cool with a good slasher flick and even the odd creature feature as long as it’s heavy on the gore and violence. He still jumps though which you tease him about, the first time you watched aliens he damn near levitated during the chest burster scene, you teased him for a week about that.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Hates the preachy, judgemental, narrow minded, Christian people of this run down town would hate it if you every displayed similar behaviour and will actively avoid anyone he thinks could be like that. Which means he generally avoids everyone, as you often can’t tell someone’s not like that until you actually try to get to know them.

Eddie assumed you were like that at first too until you got into an argument with him over Metallica vs Iron Maiden which had shocked him to the very core. Didn’t make him anymore inclined to try talking to anyone else though but if you said someone was ok he accepted it without question for the most part. He can’t quite believe that Steve “The Hair” Harrington was a decent guy just didn’t fit with everything that he knew about jocks and popular kids

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Mumbles in his sleep, either flat on their back with one arm draped over his chest and the other dangling from the edge of the bed or face down his pillow smushed into his face hands tucked underneath.

Sleeps like the dead you have to shake him to wake him up but sometimes you see his eyelids twitching and suspect he’s faking so he doesn’t have to get up for school, these are usually the days he drags you into bed with him making you both late.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fandom #eddie munson fluff #sfw #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine

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rukiakwashere · 2 years

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The Goat Who Wished to Be a Saint

hi, this is my work for the Grishaverse Mini Bang 2022, hosted by @grishaversebigbang ! Hope you’ll enjoy it !

Don’t forget to check out the wonderful work of these artists:

Materialki: @lightleckrereins (here) and @margot-arts (here)

Thank you for bringing Milo to life !

Summary: “Milo’s first challenge on the road to Sainthood proved to be none other than himself… or more like, his nature as a goat. See, he soon came to realise that all other Saints were annoyingly human. Well, admittedly, one had something to do with bees and another could become a dragon, but they could still talk and preach their ways into becoming Saints.”

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38776608/chapters/96959187

Chapter one under cut:

Milo was a goat. It was an indefinite truth he had been born with. His mother was a goat. His father was a goat. His brothers and sisters were goats. Not that goats really exercised a family network. They just were. They ate greens, walked in the field and slept.

Occasionally a fellow goat would go missing and the rest of them simply would not care. They just carried on eating and walking and sleeping.

And that routine went on perfectly until Milo himself was the one who went missing. A burly man purchased him and instead of sending him to goat-heaven, he insisted on carrying Milo around with him wherever, because, supposedly, Milo’s fur offered “comfort” and “stability”. Milo really wanted to bite that man’s ass someday.

And that’s pretty much how Milo ended up in the arms of a tall and dark human who was squeezing him like crazy and talking in Milo’s ear. Milo wanted to get out of there. Instead, Milo kept still, sitting in between that tall man and two others; a male with a stick and a smaller female, and the burly man. Milo was having no fun, but at least, it looked like the other four weren’t taking any pleasure in their situation either.

---

Milo’s fate changed when the tall man decided to grab him and drag him with them instead of leaving him inside the disgusting creature that the humans referred to as “transportation”. Milo didn’t know if it was good or bad luck. He didn’t care either. He was a goat and the matters of fate didn’t concern him.

The dark-skinned man, who he later learned, was named Jesper, was obsessed with Milo. He was carried along as the three humans continued their journey, to the cane-man’s -Kaz- disapproval;

“It’s a goat, Jesper.”

“My point exactly! He’s a soft and kind goat who doesn’t complain and understands me perfectly.”

If Milo could speak, he would probably comment on the understanding Jesper part. He bleated instead. Jesper pointed at him in approval and so they continued along.

Milo left the gang when they reached a city. Was it the capital? It was larger than he had ever seen. So many buildings, yet wide streets and not that many people. Maybe it wasn’t the capital. He had heard once that the capital was scary. But this was not.

“Bring the goat.”

“Its name is Milo.” Jesper retorted as he handed Milo to Kaz. The two seemed to never agree on Milo’s name but they somehow never seemed angry about it. It reminded Milo of his relationship with his brothers and their play-fighting.

And that was how Milo ended up in a stranger’s hands and Jesper was standing above him, saying goodbyes and tying a bullet around his neck. Milo let out a weak bleat as the man turned away. He hadn’t realised until then that it mattered to see him go. He was sad to be left behind.

---

His life progressed more naturally after that. He was put into a barn along with other goats. He learned he was in Balakirev, not the capital after all. He tried to acquaint himself with the other goats…

He was left with an odd feeling of unfulfillment. He was destined for greater things than sitting and munching grass! The other goats stopped paying him attention when he asked about where they had come from or where in the world they had happened to be, and Milo soon decided to stop paying any attention to them too.

He didn’t care if it was out of spite or boredom that one day he wandered too far off the grounds and got lost in the nearby woods.

He had found a place where the fence was loose in his many midday explorations of the plain and gradually he had grown more daring in slipping out. He always made sure to be back by the time they were all ushered inside. Nights were cold.

As the sun fell he unconsciously went after the small light and warmth he felt in the distance that proved to be a bonfire.

Two humans were sitting around it, their backs slightly turned to Milo. They both turned around, suddenly alert as the goat moved some branches after losing his step.

Milo froze. He felt like two predators were closing in. The man had a knife out and the woman had spread her hands wide. Even though she wasn’t holding a weapon, Milo felt oddly more threatened by her than by the large man next to her.

A millisecond later they both exhaled loudly, falling back to laughing and Milo stepped slowly to the back. His instinct both urged him to run and stay put.

“It’s just a goat.” The woman said with a smile. She extended her hand, beckoning Milo to come closer. “Hi goat!”

“But what is it doing here?” The man next to her had lowered his knife but still seemed troubled by his appearance. “In the forest, in the middle of the night?”

“Calm down, Matthias. What is it going to do to you?” The woman stood up and approached him slowly. Milo didn’t bother running away.

“How odd.” She muttered, her fingers tangling around Milo’s bullet necklace. “Where did you run away from Milo?”

Nina didn’t expect an answer so Milo just bleated in response.

The duo seemed to be good enough company. They were heading towards the sea in hopes to make it to Kerch grounds before anyone noticed them. Milo didn’t really have a choice but tagging along.

Nina never got tired of petting Milo’s head and talking to him, mainly of the Fjerdans, and most of all of the one sitting next to her and occasionally cutting into her monologue.

“... So, at that point the ice broke and that doofus had the nerve to save me. You hear, Milo?” She paused to bite on her cake. “The nerve!” She pointed at her friend, her eyes wide, betraying her fondness.

“You should be grateful, witch.”

“Oh, I’m eternally in your debt, your highness.” Nina mock-bowed and finally Matthias cracked a smile.

Where Nina was easy to please, stocking up on sweets every time they passed through a village and talking and petting and approaching Milo with no second thought, the tall blonde posed a mystery to Milo.

The Fjerdan seemed to be wary of him which was something the goat had never experienced before. Matthias was constantly watching him but wasn’t attentive of him in the same way Nina followed him around. He didn’t talk to Milo, only referred to him when he had to.

Milo was oddly annoyed at his inability to charm the blond.

---

Milo bleated and Matthias looked at him in confusion. The two of them were standing outside a market that Nina had chosen to scavenge for sweets.

Milo bleated again and Matthias shifted uncomfortably. The goat was starting to enjoy the way the big man tensed.

Their one-sided convo, though, was interrupted by Nina’s loud laugh.

“Oh, come on Druskelle don’t tell me you’re scared of a goat.” She teased as she approached, her bag once again full.

“I’m- I’m not scared of it!” Matthias was quick to retort. “It’s just that… it’s a weird goat, don’t you think? What kind of normal goat follows humans around and bleats when you ask it something.”

“It’s just a goat.”

“Witches like you worship much less.”

The female laughed. “You don’t know that much of our history.”

“I know enough to realise that literally everything became a Saint at some point.”

“Lies.” The girl stuck out her tongue, reaching to pat Milo in between his ears. “Saint Milo the goat.” She muttered nonchalantly and the male laughed, momentarily forgetting about his goat introspections.

The two continued bickering, not refraining to send fond looks at each other. Milo had long realised that was their natural form of communication.

Still, that small sentence was enough to change Milo’s perspective. For once in his life he had a goal, a purpose… because, why not?!

Milo was going to become a Saint.

---

I hope you enjoyed it so far ! Next part is going to be updated in ao3 at some point this week !

#gvbbmb22 #gvbbmbfic22 #The Goat Who Wished to Be a Saint #Saint Milo #Six of Crows #Milo the goat #Shadow and Bone

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

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The Terribly Sad and Tragic Affair that Is the Fake Funeral of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss

Apparently, I am not only drawing for the Critical Role fandom, but writing for it, too. After months of nearly no progress I just vomited out 3k words this Tuesday and it only went downhill from there.

This fic is based on this post by @anne-o-nyme, I really hope I managed to capture the energy of it.

Have fun!

Summary: There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience.

After the sudden "death" of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss, it is his brother Verin's job to empty out his towers. The Mighty Nein show up to help (and maybe steal a few things).

OR: Verin is grieving, Essek just wants his stuff back, and the Mighty Nein are the Mighty Nein.

Warnings: I didn't tag this with MCD, because Essek is technically alive and kicking. Since Verin doesn't know that though, and this fic is written from his POV, this is dealing with grief and includes depictions of depressive thoughts as well as anxiety attacks. For more explicit warnings, please mind the tags on AO3. Take care of yourselves, and let me know if I forgot anything.

Read on AO3

There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience. "Listen," he said with what little calm he had left, "I know that by returning one of our beacons you became heroes of the Dynasty and were placed under Es— My bro— his stewardship. But this here—" he gestured vaguely at the interior of Essek's towers that had always been too cold, too empty, but not like now, never like now— "This is a very difficult situation for me, so if you could please leave, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Yes, yes, it's very sad that Essek died," the blue tiefling said—Jester, her name was Jester; she had given him that already as she had offered him her condolences with a hug—and Verin could barely contain his anger. After the funeral he had quite enough of lying dignitaries, nobles, and heroes currying favours with him. That had always been Essek's thing, he would know what to do, how to make them regret even daring to speak up; Verin had never been any good at it.

"But we're his friends!" He grit his teeth at Jester's blatant falsehood. Perhaps his anger showed on his face, since the tiefling faltered. "And, uh— Fjord?"

"It's true," the half-orc with too-smooth words and too-smooth voice lied, too. "We spent quite some time with your, er— your brother here. Made some good memories. We thought we might take this as our chance to say goodbye, too."

"We are here to help as well. We wouldn't want to infringe upon your grief, though," the tall firbolg added. "So, if you'd prefer us to return at a later point, we'd be happy to."

Verin was still trying to process everything—from these strangers showing up unannounced to their overwhelming presence to the fact that his brother was dead—while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the halfling who looked like she might have sticky fingers. So, he latched onto the word that stood out the most to him: "Help?"

"Right," Fjord said, looking slightly embarrassed, "we probably should have led with that..."

"We should have called ahead, too," the scary-looking human in blue—they didn't even wear white for the funeral—added. "We always forget to call ahead."

"But Beau, how should we have called ahead?" Jester complained. "We didn't know Verin yet."

"Well, Essek—" the human was interrupted by the even scarier-looking woman next to her stepping on her foot unsubtly. She at least had the decency to act embarrassed. "Right. Sorry 'bout that."

Awkward silence fell across the room, the Mighty Nein looking anywhere but him. It took him a few moments to realise they were waiting for him to speak up. "Help how?" Verin could have kicked himself. By the Light, he could do better than that. He had to do better than that.

A beat of silence followed, then everyone seemed to talk at once. Verin wanted to weep. How was he supposed to deal with this? How had his brother dealt with this? 'He probably hasn't,' he thought. 'They're probably all liars, probably—'

Someone cleared their throat and all eyes turned to the other human who hadn't said anything so far and who looked properly miserable. Immediately, the Mighty Nein fell silent. "Word has reached us that Den Thelyss ordered these premises to be vacated as early as possible," he said quietly with an accent Verin has been taught that belonged to the enemy. "And while some of us may not look like much, I can assure you, we are quite capable."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I supposed such menial tasks are beneath the heroes of the dynasty. There are servants—"

"Well, sure," the halfling with the probably sticky fingers interrupted, "but we know him. Knew him, I mean; sorry, force of habit."

"Besides, there's a lot of stuff," the lavender tiefling, who Verin was pretty sure was a known pirate, piped up. "Looks like you could use the help."

"If you want to, of course," the sad Empire human added.

Verin only wanted to scream, to give room to the torrent of thoughts raging in his head. 'My brother just died. My brother just died and he wasn't consecuted, so he's gone for good. He's gone for good and I didn't even know him; I didn't even know about these supposed friends he had because he didn't allow me near him in decades. I was a horrible brother and so was he, but I can't even be mad at him because he's dead.

'And now these liars show up and talk about friendship and knowing him, but those are all lies, horrible ones, because Essek had no friends. Essek was cold and cruel and lonely and do you even know how horrible that is? Dying alone with no-one who mourns you, just the favours you still owe them? Do you? I don't even know, and I'm his brother.'

Were he a weaker man, a less disciplined one, he might have said so. But he was Taskhand Verin of Den Thelyss and he had learned discipline before he had learned to talk. So, he said: "Your help would be greatly appreciated, thank you. I'll have the servants bring up some tea. There are, uh—" He straightened his back, summoning the composure that was befitting a Taskhand, even one with a dead brother. "There are boxes up there, they've been brought to the rooms already. Anything of value will be sold; the rest will be given to charity. The things— Well, if you find anything that might have sentimental value, something in his handwriting, perhaps, I think I should like to keep that, please."

The firbolg nodded sagely. "Of course. We will be careful with our selection."

With that, Verin turned around and— froze. Where was he even supposed to start? The towers had always seemed to huge for just Essek and he knew that there were very few personal belongings in them. Still, they would have to be scoured clean within the fortnight.

A large hand on his shoulder made him jump, although he'd never admit it. "Sometimes, when a task seems too large, you should start with the smallest part," the firbolg said. "If I were you, I'd start with the smallest room."

"Thank you, that, uh— that seems like good advice," Verin replied, still a bit startled and confused. "I, er— I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Caduceus Clay. I live in a graveyard, so I'm used to this," Clay said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Verin furrowed his brows slightly. A graveyard? It seemed highly unlikely to him that one of the heroes of the Dynasty would live in a graveyard of all places. Perhaps they were not only liars, but impostors too? But they had the symbols of the Bright Queen, so there wasn't much that he could say.

"Right," he mumbled. "I believe the smallest room would be the closet. Although it might be tied with the bathroom..." He trailed off again. He had never seen Essek's bedroom in his towers. Judging by how many times he had even seen the inside of the building; he could count himself lucky if he even found the way there.

"Why don't we split up?" Clay suggested. "One group takes the closet, one the bathroom and one the bedroom. We'd get done sooner that way."

"That is a great idea, Caduceus," Jester said excitedly. "I'll take the bathroom; I promised— er, I'm curious if I can find more of that hair oil, I got for Fjord that one time!"

"Ohhh, are you saying this is... an investigation?!" the halfling joined in.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Veth!"

"Seems like a case for Wildemount's best detectives!"

"Bye, Verin!" Jester called and he blinked and they were gone. Fjord joined them as well, muttering something about having to supervise them.

The purple pirate-tiefling shrugged, heading off in the same direction. "Well, I wouldn't mind rifling through some drawers. I'll have a look at that bedroom."

"Yeah, I don't need to see Essek's underwear, so I'll pass on the closet," Beau added tactfully—Verin was getting the sneaking suspicion that manners were not really her strong suit. She linked hands with the large woman at her side, pulling her along. "Come on, Yash."

"I'll go handle the tea," Clay said. "Don't worry about it." He vanished in the direction of the kitchen, his steps accompanied by the constant tap tap tap of his staff.

When Verin looked around, he realised that only the sad Empire human was left with him in the hallway. "If you wouldn't mind," he said, pointedly avoiding eye-contact, "I would love to have a look at the closet. I always, ah— appreciated your brother's sense of fashion."

Verin blinked at him a few times, then shrugged. "Sure." He began heading up the stairs.

"My condolences," the human continued. "I realise I didn't speak up earlier, but— I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he said, letting the same numb feeling wash over him again that he had embraced since the news of Essek's death had reached him.

"I know that we seem like a bunch of, ah— forgive my language, but assholes, but we're really here to help. I will tell the others to tone it down a bit."

"Thank you," he repeated.

"If you'd prefer that we start in, ah— less personal rooms, we can do that also."

"If I'm perfectly honest, I don't even know what I should be doing there."

"Neither am I." The human laughed nervously. "I have dealt with grief before, but I've never had the, ah— how do you call it? Hang on." He pulled out a copper wire and whispered: "Beau, how do you say zweifelhafte Ehre in Common? You can reply to this message." A moment later he straightened. "Right. I never had the dubious honour of emptying out a deceased person's house before."

"Neither did I," Verin admitted. 'Usually, the deceased person comes back,' he didn't say. Instead, he opted for: "You're, er— What's the word in Common? You're weird? I'm sorry if that's insulting, I just— waele xanalressen [stupid languages]."

"I don't understand your words, but I think I understand the sentiment." The man grimaced. "And I've heard that one before. I hope we're not too much of a... too much."

"It's alright," he lied and opened the door to Essek's bedroom.

It wasn't alright; Verin wanted to weep again.

The door to the bathroom stood ajar, as did several drawers and cabinets, although he couldn't glance inside. Considering that he heard glass shatter and a quiet "oops" followed by a hushed "Jester!" he was rather glad about that. Besides, what he saw was already quite enough to handle. Beau was currently rifling through Essek's nightstand, the tall woman tossing unread books on the bed carelessly, while the lavender tiefling seemed to make his way through his brother's collections of make-up and jewellery alike.

They froze when they spotted him and the sad human in the door. "Heeey, Verin," Beau drawled.

"These were all still closed, I swear," the lavender tiefling said immediately, gesturing at the jars in front of them.

Verin just sighed in defeat. "I don't wear any make-up, I don't care; you can have it. Put the jewellery in the box to be sold; the books are for charity if he hasn't read them. Just leave the earrings in front of the mirror, please. Those were his favourites."

Without another glance at them, Verin headed straight to Essek's closet, desperate to get some quiet. He took a few moments to collect himself, before closing the door and leaning his head against it with a heavy thunk.

He stayed like that for a minute or maybe two until he heard someone clear their throat. "I have been debating for the past fifty-five seconds, if I should just Dimension Door out," the sad human said and Verin very nearly jumped out of his skin, "but that would be loud and I didn't want to startle you. Not that I didn't startle you like this but—"

"Vithin shu," Verin cursed.

"Vithin shu ke," the sad human agreed, his accent in Undercommon even heavier than normally.

For a moment, they both stared at each other, equally startled by the course of events. Then, the human looked away again. "I, ah— have started learning Undercommon before, um— well, before." Verin tried very hard to focus on the way the human was scratching at his forearms; that way he had something else to focus on besides his nearing breakdown.

"This is a bit embarrassing, but, ah— I believe I forgot to introduce myself," the human continued. "I'm Caleb Widogast. Essek and I were... friends, yes, and ah— colleagues, of some sort. It's... complicated."

He scratched at his arms again before turning towards the shelves and pulling out a stack of tunics. He unfolded one, looked at it, then carefully folded it again, cast a cantrip to smooth out the wrinkles, and put it in the charity box. Then he repeated the procedure with the next. And the next. And the next.

Verin frowned, thinking for a moment about his words. There was something about them that seemed painfully familiar, although he couldn't quite remember. Then: "The transmutation specialist."

Widogast looked up in surprise. "Yes."

"Essek told me of you," Verin admitted.

The last time they had seen each other had been here, in these towers, just a few months ago. He had found his brother in his office, pouring over notes for a new spell, alive and healthy as ever. As always, he had entered without knocking. As always, he had pretended to read the notes. Not as always, he had noticed something wrong. "Whose handwriting is that?" he had asked.

"What?" Essek had snapped, his head whipping up. Then, however, his expression had softened. "Oh. A friend's. A colleague, of sorts. He's helping me out, a bit."

"With the spell?" Verin had asked incredulously.

"Yes. He's a transmutation specialist; you know that's not my forte. Now give it back, will you?"

"A colleague, huh?" He had grinned and held the paper out of Essek's reach. "Are you sure that's all?"

Perhaps Essek had been sick after all, for the strangest thing had happened: instead of using his floating cantrip to snatch the notes back, he had gotten a dreamy, far-off look in his eyes. He had even smiled with an expression Verin might have called dopey, if it weren't his brother they were talking about. After a few moments, he had snapped out of it, sighed, and said: "It's complicated."

"Did he?" Widogast asked tentatively. "Did he, ah— did he say anything else about me?"

Verin pinned him down with a glare, sizing him up. In hindsight, he should have noticed the thick spellbook at his hip earlier; judging by his slim frame alone, he should have known the man was a wizard. He supposed Widogast was handsome enough, although his brother had never cared much for that, with his copper hair and his striking blue eyes. Blue eyes around which crows' feet were gathering, as he noticed to his dismay. 'He's human,' Verin reminded himself. He might have a few decades left, maybe, whereas Essek had centuries ahead of him. The thought why his brother might condemn himself to more loneliness crossed his mind, though it hardly mattered. His brother had been the first to die, after all.

"Verin?" Widogast inquired quietly.

"I'm sorry," he answered with a thick voice. "I got lost in my thoughts there. He, uhh— he said that he trusted you." That didn't even begin to cover it, but these Mighty Nein had been lying to him since the moment they got here, so what was a little lie by omission? Besides, there were some memories that he wanted to keep just to himself.

"Essek," he had teased, still waving the sheet of paper out his reach. "Come on! Aren't we brothers?"

Essek had crossed his arms and pouted. He hadn't done that since they were both little. "Unfortunately. You are a menace. And a child."

"If you tell me about him, I'll give it back. Is he handsome? Is he a drow? Where's he from? How did you meet? When will I meet him? Can I promise to kill him if he hurts you?"

"Verin!" Essek had groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"What do you do when you meet? I bet you stay up all night, talking about 'arcane research' or something."

"We do, in fact. Are you done now?"

"Oh, is that what young people call it these days?" He had cackled at his own joke.

"Evidently not," Essek had muttered. "Might I remind you that you're younger than me?"

"Might I remind you that you're a buzzkill?" Verin had shot back and placed the note down. He had gotten bored of his own game.

Essek had taken the sheet of paper almost reverently and thanked him. "I would have hated it to rewrite that page." He had smoothed it down, stored it safely away in a folder, silent for a long time. Then, he had said: "Caleb."

"Excuse me?"

"That's his name," Essek had said. "Caleb Widogast."

Verin had frowned. "Hey, Essek?"

"Hm?"

"You must trust him a lot, to share a spell with him."

His brother had taken a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Verin hadn't expected him to answer, yet he'd said: "I do, actually. It's not the first spell we've created together and I would be honoured to create a thousand more with him. I'd trust him with my life, my death, and beyond. I think—" He'd huffed. "I think I trust him almost as much as I trust you."

Verin watched Widogast as he was looking through his brother's tunics, placing most of them in the charity box, and he wondered. Wondered if the trust Essek had obviously put in Widogast had been misplaced. Wondered if it had extended to his friends, as well. Wondered if ultimately trust had been his downfall, as he'd always feared.

Then again, if Essek had trusted him... perhaps that trust had been mutual. Perhaps they had been friends. Perhaps there was another person mourning his brother after all.

"Do I have something on my face?" Verin had given up on counting how many times Widogast had now startled him out of his thoughts.

"No, no I—," Verin stammered. "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head to the side. "For staring?"

"No, er— For your loss." Liar or no liar, it only seemed appropriate.

"Oh." Widogast turned back to the tunics. Verin probably should get started, too, shouldn't he? "Thank you. Though I'd wager your loss weighs heavier than mine."

"Probably," he agreed and turned to the task at hand. At this point, Widogast had moved on from the simple tunics to Essek's court regalia. After a short moment of consideration, Verin decided to look through the pants; he also had no interest in sorting through his dead brother's underwear.

Out of the corner of his eye he kept watching the wizard, pulling out one cloak after the other. At a few he wrinkled his nose, at others he just stared before putting them with the tunics. After a while one made him pause; an elaborate, beautiful robe in deep purple. "This is what he was wearing when we first met him," he said.

'He hated that one,' Verin thought. Not that he could say that out loud. Instead, he cocked his head and asked: "Are you sure? He has a lot of those. Had, I mean. Had a lot of those."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He tapped his temple with a faint smile. "I have a good memory."

"As does Essek," he snapped, suddenly feeling very defensive about his brother's capabilities. "I suppose most wizards do."

Infuriatingly, Widogast only nodded. "Indeed. Or they're not very good ones."

Silently, Verin turned back to the trousers. The sooner he got done, the sooner he got these people out of his brother's towers, the better. He didn't know for how long they worked in silence, Verin reminiscing about the times he had seen Essek wear the clothes and wondering about those he didn't know. Eventually, he folded the last of them and forced himself to return to the present. "I think we're done here," he announced. "Do you have a preference for a next room?"

"Perhaps the library?" Widogast offered a tentative smile. "I think I might be of more use there than folding clothes."

"More use than I will be, surely."

"I take it the wizardry doesn't run in the family, then?"

Verin only scoffed and opened the door to the bedroom again.

He immediately spotted Beau leafing through one of the books Essek had never read, while the tiefling was chatting amiably with the aasimar while braiding her hair. He also noted the boxes neatly stacked in the middle of the room. Besides that, he noticed with a heavy heart, the room looked much the same. If anything, it looked less orderly and empty than before. Except for—

"Where are Essek's earrings?" Verin demanded to know.

"What earrings?" the lavender tiefling replied with a too-wide grin the same moment Beau said: "Dude, there's tons of them, why don't—"

"No," he said decisively. "Essek's favourite earrings; they're always up here. I told you about them. Where are they?" His hands curled into fists, his neatly manicured fingernails pressing almost painfully into his skin.

"Perhaps you should look in one of the boxes," the aasimar woman suggested "I'm sure they're—"

"You're lying," Verin interrupted her, barely containing his anger. "Why are you lying? If they're in one of the boxes, then only because you put them there. So: where are they?"

Widogast only now stepped out of the closet, wearing an amber necklace he hadn't noticed before. "Verin—" he said tentatively, but he'd had enough.

"Shut up!" He startled himself with how loud his voice was. But he was beyond caring. "I know they're not in there, because the only ones to put them in there would have been you. So, either you're lying about having them put in there, or you're lying about stealing them, I don't care. Just— please. Please give them back."

The four of them passed a guilty glance. "We can't," Beau replied finally.

"The fuck you can't," Verin spat. "Give them back!"

"Verin, love, we would really love to," the tiefling added, "but we can't."

"I don't understand; is it precious things you want? Here, have some!" He strode over to the boxes and ripped the first open, tossing the lid towards the bathroom door Jester was peeking out of. He reached in to grab a necklace—an ugly one, he had always thought, with a stylised beacon—and threw it in their direction.

Beau caught it. Of course.

"Have a whole box, actually, if you like them so damn much." He reached inside and pulled out a jewellery box, tears prickling in his eyes. He threw one of those, too, just for good measure. It gave him some satisfaction that Widogast had to dodge it. "Just give me back the bloody earrings that my brother wore at my fucking consecution!" He was properly crying now and could only imagine the mess he looked like, but he had reached his limit. And, in his opinion, he was allowed to with all that was going on.

At least they looked a little bit guilty. "Fuck man, we didn't know," Beau mumbled.

"It's just one pair, Beau," Jester called over from the bathroom. "I'm sure it will be alright."

"Yes, there's no need for this to escalate," Fjord agreed and strode over to them, his hands raised innocently.

"I don't even know you people," Verin muttered, looking at the people crowding into his brother's bedroom. "Why did I even let you inside?"

"Do you want the earrings back?" the aasimar woman asked, reaching into a bag at her hip. Had she been carrying a greatsword for the whole time? Verin suddenly noticed how overpowered he was, were he to face all of them. "You can have them back if you want. Here, you can have them back."

"For a moment," Widogast added, slowly drawing closer to him and taking the earrings from the aasimar. He held them out on his flat hand, almost like he had seen soldiers offer treats to horses. His whole demeanour reminded him of someone trying to calm a spooked animal. For some reason, that seemed hilarious to him and he couldn't help the hysterical giggle that escaped his throat.

"Verin, I need you to calm down," he continued. "I know that's easier said than done, but you need your head."

"I think we should all calm down," Clay said from the doorway. And despite being surprised again, he did. It didn't make any sense, but few things these days did.

"Did it work?" the halfling asked. Verin wasn't really sure what she was talking about.

"It did," Clay confirmed.

"Gut," Widogast said and pressed the earrings that had seemed so important a moment ago into Verin's hands. "I think we should maybe go somewhere else, ja? Will you come with me?"

Inadvisable as it might be, if Essek had trusted that man, he should, too. And out of all of the Nein, he seemed to be the most normal one. The one he could see Essek with most. So, he nodded.

"I'll get us back to the kitchen, quickly." Caleb held out his hand and Verin closed his eyes, steeling himself. 'I hate Dimension Door,' was the last thing that crossed his mind before the teleportation spell ripped him away, together with: 'We haven't been to the kitchen, yet.'

Evidently, there went something wrong with the spell. Verin didn't know much about magic, but he knew Dimension Door couldn't transport more than two people. So, when he heard Beau groan and say "Fuck, dude, warn us next time," he knew that something wasn't right.

"You knew about the plan, Beauregard," Widogast replied.

"It doesn't matter," Fjord decided. "Caduceus, do you think you could make tea again? I think the Calm Emotions is about to wear off."

Cautiously, Verin opened one eye, then the other. They were, in fact, standing in a kitchen, as far as he could tell. All of the Mighty Nein were surrounding him. The furniture seemed to have been made for people taller than them; Essek probably would need to float in order to avoid awkwardly climbing onto the chair. The firbolg, however, who was fussing with a teapot, seemed to fit right in. All in all, the interior was very rustic. And very much not in Essek's towers, not that he had ever seen that room, of course.

The panic hit him once more. Verin whirled around to the wizard, instinctively grasping for his sword. "Where the fuck—" he faltered, finding his hip bare. Of course, he hadn't brought it for the funeral. Instead, he opted for just grasping Widogast by the lapels and lifting him up a bit. It was supposed to be menacing, which surely would be more effective, were humans not so annoyingly tall. "Where the fuck are we?!" he spat out.

A lot of things seemed to happen at once—he heard a "Fuck, man, what-" from Beau, a "Well, Mister Thelyss" from the pirate, several hands trying to tug him away from the weak wizard—but he didn't pay them any mind. He just shook Widogast, who looked entirely too calm for his liking, and demanded: "Answer me!"

"Leave him," was all Widogast said. "He has every right to be angry."

Indeed, the people grasping at him retreated, still on guard and surrounding him. There was a creak outside the door and Verin desperately wished for his sword once more. Then, a voice cut through the tense silence that had descended over the kitchen: "Caleb, is that you? You're back early."

"Yeah, there were some complications. Best come and look yourself, Schatz."

There was a sigh that was entirely too familiar for Verin's liking. Then, the door opened with a creak and in walked a dead man. "Complications," Essek Thelyss said with a fond smile. "I was just a Sending away, what did you come here fo— oh."

The person wearing his brother's face stopped in their tracks as they saw him. A couple of complicated emotions passed over his face—confusion, surprise, regret, guilt. If he hadn't known before, Verin was certain now that they were impostors, all of them. His brother would never tolerate such a display of weakness. Still, the impostor said: "Hello, brother."

Verin whipped his head back around to the wizard in his grasp. "What the fuck are you playing at?" he hissed.

"I- what- Verin!" the Essek-impostor sputtered. "What are you doing; put him down!"

"I would appreciate that, yes," Widogast added.

"Not before you don't tell me what's going on."

"Going on?" The impostor sneered and shook his head in a perfect imitation of his brother. "Nothing is going on, Verin."

"You died," he accused him.

"Evidently not," Essek scoffed.

Verin narrowed his eyes, looking from the man claiming to be his brother over the other too calm wizard to the rest of the Nein, seemingly perfectly happy to let this play out. "Prove it," he demanded. "Tell me something only my brother would know."

"You've become paranoid," he noted and Verin couldn't decide if it sounded proud or disappointed. "Alright. When you and I were in our early thirties, you once got in trouble for scaling the outside of mother's mansion. Rightfully, I should have gotten in trouble, too, but I was hiding on the attic. And the reason you never told anyone, is because then you'd have had to explain that I, the wizard, had somehow outpaced you, the fighter, in a climbing competition."

Verin wrinkled his nose at that. "Well, my brother cheated."

"I did not cheat, thank you very much!" He huffed indignantly and crossed his arms. "You didn't say 'no magic' before we started."

He stared at Essek for a few moments. "It's you," he whispered.

"Obviously."

Verin dropped the wizard on the ground and looked over at his brother; really looked. The man looked nothing like the one he had known for most of his life. His hair was longer than it had ever been since he'd cut it off and his bare feet were touching the ground. His clothes were casual, a simple tunic and trousers. After this day, Verin knew for a fact that not even Essek's trancing clothes were that informal, and yet his brother looked more comfortable in them in another's house than he had in decades. On top of that, he kept glancing over to Widogast. And smiling. Essek was smiling.

No, this man looked nothing like the one Verin had known for nearly a century. But he looked a lot like his brother.

"You're alive," he said stupidly.

"Yes, of course I am," Essek said, as if Verin hadn't just attended his funeral.

It felt only right to tell him so: "Why are you alive? I was at your funeral."

"That's a long story," he sighed and floated onto one of the chairs that were slightly too tall for him. He accepted a cup of tea from Clay with thanks and turned back to Verin. "Why are you here?"

"Well, that's a pretty long story, too," Jester spoke up. "He kind of started freaking out about your earrings, I think? And he was crying and looking pretty awful and everything, right Caleb?"

"I, ah— didn't think he'd believe us if we told him about you," Caleb said. "So, we had agreed beforehand to bring him here, in case of an emergency."

"He thought we were lying," Clay added.

"I suppose it is my story to tell," Essek said. "Earrings, Verin?"

"They're your favourite," Verin said stupidly and held them out to him.

His face grew soft. "Oh," he said as he took them gingerly, "I didn't know that you kne—"

Before he could overthink and do something stupid like stop himself, he surged forward and enveloped his brother in a tight hug. After a moment Essek closed his arms around him, too.

It seemed so unreal, to be able to hold him after mourning him for what felt like years. All the worries, all the grief and anger that had crushed him in the past few weeks and for what? For the bastard to still be alive after all. It wasn't fair. Why had he had to go through all of that? And why did he feel the pressing urge to start crying again? He should be happy, shouldn't he, that his brother wasn't dead. So why did it make him feel so awful?

"I think this is our cue to leave," Fjord said. Verin felt his brother nod and heard the Mighty Nein shuffle out of the kitchen, the door closing behind them with a creak.

Only then, Essek spoke up. "Verin," he asked quietly, "are you crying?"

"Shut up," he mumbled through the thick fog of tears and snot, definitely not crying. "I hate you, Essek. Do you know what I went through?"

"Meeting the Mighty Nein? Yes, I can imagine."

"They're horrible," he complained. "They're loud and they're rude and they had absolutely no respect for any of your belongings! I thought I was going mad."

"They are. They also are my friends, you know."

"How?" he asked agonised.

"I know they don't look like it, but they are surprisingly capable. And I am sure that you've noticed most of them to be annoyingly charming. But I think their absolute worst traits are their infinite stubbornness and perseverance. They quite literally did not leave me alone until they had befriended me."

Verin glanced up at him questioningly. "And were half in love with the wizard?" he guessed.

Essek scowled darkly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Perhaps."

He snorted and disentangled himself from their embrace. Very calmly he said: "You're a liar."

Essek looked genuinely startled at that. "What?"

"You said, you trusted me more than him. Why then, did he know and I didn't?"

"It's... complicated," he said.

"You wizards say that a lot."

"Verin." Essek closed his eyes. "I trust you. Implicitly. And I care about you. Which is why I chose not to burden you with the knowledge of my misdeeds. I didn't— I didn't want to put you in an impossible situation to choose between me and our queen."

He laughed nervously. "What on earth are you talking about? I mean, you didn't commit treason or anything."

Essek didn't answer, avoiding eye-contact instead.

"Right?"

Still, Essek kept stubbornly quiet.

"Oh," Verin breathed. He took a moment trying to reconcile what he knew about his brother with the fact that he was apparently a traitor. It all fit together ridiculously easy. "The beacons."

Essek looked up at him in shock and he knew he had hit the mark. "What?"

"You stole the beacons." Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Essek had been studying them at the time, one of the only people with frequent access to them. He had always been fascinated by them, yet his theories had been rejected for their heretic nature. As Shadowhand, he had also regular contact with counterparts from the Empire, albeit not officially. Then, a few years after Essek’s research had been denied, they had vanished. How had he never seen this before?

"Oh Essek...," he said softly.

"No, please— I don’t—Please don’t—” He seemed to deflate, curling in on himself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, I—”

"I don't care,” Verin interrupted his frantic ramblings.

"What?" Essek looked up at him, looking just as shocked as Verin felt.

“I don’t care,” he repeated, realising that it was true the moment the words left his mouth. For how could he care about something as trivial as treason when Essek was sitting right in front of him, alive and well. "You're my brother, I don't care. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a year. Maybe in ten. Right now, I only care that you're alive."

“I—What—I don’t—” Essek stuttered, lifting and then lowering his hands a few times. “I don’t know how— If I can—Fuck.”

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but even he knew that this wasn’t the right time for it. Essek was obviously trying to tell him something and it took him a minute to decipher that strange behaviour. “Are you asking for a hug?” he hazarded a guess.

An agonised expression passed over his face and for a moment Verin thought there were tears gathering in his brother’s eyes. Surely not. “I don’t know if I may. I don’t mean to overstep—”

Without further ado, Verin stepped forward and gathered a yelping Essek up and squeezed him tightly. “Of course you may!” he assured him, awkwardly patting his shaking shoulders. “I love you, Essek. I am very glad that you’re alive.”

“I’m very glad to see you, too,” Essek answered and squeezed him a little tighter.

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huenjin · 4 years

Text

the study of relationships.

summary — college team's volleyball captain and your roommate-cum-best friend, hwang hyunjin argues with you over guys being better than girls in relationships to help you out of one. or in which hyunjin is in love with you for years now and he finally decides that maybe he doesn't want that best friend tag anymore.

pairing — hwang hyunjin x reader, ft. minho

genre — fluff, angst | volleyball!au, f2l!au, roommates!au

rating — nc-17

word count — 15k words

note — kinda excited to post this very long plotted fic on here because first long fic for skz !!! this fic is brought to you by hq, hyunjin's long blond hair and b me mv that we never got. please please do send me constructive criticism so that i can improve on my writing for this community. happy reading!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa."

Your best friend, Hwang Hyunjin yells at the top of his voice, pitch lower in precision as you open the door and slam it shut forcefully, the sound loud enough to bounce to him clearly. Your feet storm hard against the wooden flooring of your apartment, sound bouncing off from that again and Hyunjin pauses his video game to look at you.

It's a familiar sight. Hyunjin sighs.

"Hey," he tries catching your attention but he fails. You storm into your room, hair flailing behind you in your anger, eyes blurry with the angst you feel that wraps slowly around your heart. You walk into the room and slam the door shut, so loud that a chip of wood breaks from the top of the door and falls down.

"Jesus Christ! Y/N—" Hyunjin yells to no one in particular. However, he drops his controller to the side of the couch and jumps to his feet only after pausing his game. He takes big strides to your room and in high contrast to his rash movements, his knocking on your door is very gentle.

"Can I come in?" He asks, scratching the door absentmindedly. He presses his ear and head against the door to hear a response but all he hears are your soft cries and it makes him sad.

"Y/N—"

"Go away, Hyunjin!"

"Y/N, let me in," he stresses, his leg kicking the air slightly, dangling before that. "I—"

"You're going to make fun of me."

"Will not." Hyunjin knows where this stems from and he won't deny. However, at this minute, he just wants to be there for you. Teasing could wait for an hour or so after you've calmed down. "So please?"

You hum and Hyunjin waits for a sign of protest. When he hears none, he takes it as an approval to open the door and the sight before him hurts him ever so slightly.

You are wrapped in a cocoon of your white blanket and your head is buried in the sheets outside, not ready to look up at your best friend. He frowns as he walks towards you, letting himself to sit by your side. He stretches his arm out and stops when you declare,

"I'm a world class dumpee."

"You are," he shrugs, voice tainted with a slight tease and you look up at him, glaring with your red, puffy eyes. You try shoving him but the cocoon you are wrapped in slightly falls forward too in impact. Hyunjin laughs and stretches both his arms forward to prevent you from falling forwards.

You pout, mumbling with a voice that is strained and is your proof of the urge to cry, "You promised you wouldn't."

"I'm your best friend," he shrugs and pushes your body wrapped in the thick blankets backwards, your head hitting against the pillow. A soft whine leaves your lips, followed by an oomph. "You knew I was going to tease you at the very first opportunity."

And then Hyunjin pounces on you, tickling your sides over the covers and your tickle sensitive being rushes in sensation as you laugh your heart out, chest heavy and mind focussing only on your best friend that you forget about the boy who broke up with you an hour back.

"Stop," you laugh. "Hyunjin," you whine. "Stop, you idiot," you laugh again. "I'm going to kill you—"

Hyunjin's laughter fills the air along with yours. In your perspective through your watery eyes, you see a boy with no worries and all smiles and you want to be like that. You desperately want to be like that. You push your wrapped body upwards to shove Hyunjin to the side and it works. He laughs, slowly receding with yours and he lets out a loud relieved sigh as he looks at your face with less creases and tears that now fall due to laughter.

"Hey," Hyunjin says and you turn your head to face him. His face is rigid, the childish gleam that he had just a while back long gone.

"Yeah?"

He sits up, running a hand through his hair and folding his arms soon after. "The guy was a jerk," he tells, helping you up. His hand finds the end of the blanket and unwraps it slowly from your being. "He was a mighty jerk, okay?"

"He is your teammate, Lee Minho," you stare, dead into his eyes and he shrugs.

"I know," he sighs before shrugging, giving you a nonchalant look. "What was it this time? Let me guess, he broke up with you for no reason again."

You hit the blankets that cover your thigh hard and send imaginary daggers in Hyunjin's way, "Yeah! I just don't understand why he'd break up with me."

"Uh, possibly because—"

"Is it because I'm on like close friend terms with everyone in the college volleyball team? I mean, Lee Minho always said dating—"

"Dating you would be hard, Y/N," Hyunjin continues, mocking your ex-boyfriend's voice. "You hang out with so many guys and all your best friends are dudes that it makes me jealous," Hyunjin pauses, placing his hands flat on the bed from behind as he leans back. "Ah, Lee Minho, that bastard. He always did say that to you."

You look down, fidgeting with your fingers and you roar out in anger. Hyunjin looks at you amused until you say, "Why can't guys be more like girls?"

"Excuse me?"

Hyunjin's eyebrow is raised and he laughs mockingly. He lifts his arms from behind, stretches his back before sitting up straight. He kicks his legs and raises it upwards to sit cross legged, looking straight at you and laughs again. "You are totally kidding me, right?"

"No, I'm not, Hyunjin," your eyebrows furrow. "The reason behind most, if not all, break-ups is the guy."

Hyunjin agrees with you deep down. Okay, maybe not completely but at least a ninety percent and that's a good one. However, he knows how competitive you are and if there's something that can get your head out of this post break up blues, it's this.

A competition. And so just to entice you a little, he sneers, "If anything, girls should be more like guys."

"Bitch, no," you laugh, head falling back at the sheer stupidity that rolls out from your best friend's mouth. "Men are so conceited that they had to make a whole word for treating women equal."

"Not all men simp. Plus, it's an AAVE and that people should not use it. In my defense, I've treated you like a guy my whole life," he shrugs. Lies. Lies. Lies he spews out endlessly because at one point, without him even knowing, things did change and he's seen you as a woman; as a woman he now has feelings for.

Hyunjin, to prove his point, hits you on his back like you've seen him do with all his teammates and your torso bends forward from your hips on impact. "See!" He stretches his arms, tattoos on display in the loose half sleeved black top he wears and you wince, stretching your hand back to rub only for Hyunjin to stop laughing quickly and rub your back, mumbling, "Sorry."

"Hyunjin," you shrug, mumbling, trying to guide your best friend. "Don't ever use the not all men tag, please."

He slaps a hand over his mouth, realising his error, again apologising and you stretch your hand forward quickly to protest, "No, no," you tell, "You don't have to apologise. I just hope you know how it sounds."

"I do," he falls back, lying down against your mattress. "I do and I hate that I accidentally said it."

You follow suit, and fall on the bed, hair splaying around, some falling on Hyunjin's face. He groans, moving the hair away and whining, "It got into my mouth, ew." You laugh.

Hyunjin speaks out, staring at the ceiling, "Whose fault is it that a relationship goes astray?"

"Still going to say the men," you look at the same spot he stares at. "They're—"

"It's a war."

"See!" You exclaim. "This is the issue with men. They cut us off all the time."

Hyunjin laughs, hand stretching out to hold your wrist to soothe you down and mumbling another apology, he continues, "This is a battle, Y/N; a battle that's aged long and has never come to a conclusion. The battle—"

"Get to the point."

"Look who cut me off now."

"Touché."

"Anyhow," he continues. "The battle between men and women."

"You definitely sounded like a prepubescent boy there," you look at Hyunjin. His skin is so clear, you notice, making a mental note to steal his skin care products later. He turns a second later to face you and he nods, "Don't care. Definitely going to win this."

"You wish," you let out a condescending laugh. "I'm going to beat your ass, Hyunjin."

"Kinky," he smiles that stupid, toothy grin of his, "I likey."

"You gross pubescent boy," you shove at his arms only for him to quickly hold your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours in the midst of the squabble. You let him, still laughing lightly, lungs light and mind free from all the sad thoughts.

"I see that I've got an upgrade."

"You did."

You're about to thank Hyunjin for this small gesture that probably seems to be nothing when his phone rings from the other room. The scary unexpected track to Tokyo Ghoul's opening – Unravel – that you can't help but accept that you've grown to like, plays.

He lets go of your hand and jolts upwards, jumping off the bed. A small whine leaves your lips unexpectedly and Hyunjin smiles at that. He pulls up the blankets over your body that he shifted, mumbling, "You should sleep early. You had a tough day."

"No," you whine yet again, "Let's talk more—" His phone rings louder, the scream part of the ringtone jolting you up and your hand falls on your chest in shock. "Hate when your phone does."

"And yet you sing along to it," he sings, humming the tune.

"Pfft," you scoff, holding onto the blanket, scrunching it in your grip. "Go. It's probably about the practise match against Yonsei University."

He hums in agreement, folding the blanket again carefully, right below your neck, his cold hands brushing against your clavicle and the temperature difference runs a shiver down your spine.

Hyunjin switches off the light as he walks out, gently closing the door shut and you watch your best friend throwing a small smile at you before leaving. Did you really deserve all this care? Perhaps not.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, dashes out to get the phone before the caller cuts the call in frustration. He's definitely not spending the money to call back whoever it is. That shit is expensive. He jumps a couple of steps and grabs his phone, accepting the call before looking at the name of the caller.

"Hyunjin…" It's Lee Minho. "Can you come over?"

"I really want to throw a punch at you, you bastard."

And Hyunjin does. Virtually, of course. Over the game they are playing. He couldn't afford to injure a fellow teammate when the preliminaries are right around the corner.

"Bro," Minho sighs. "Can you go easy on me?"

His game character hits Minho's again, the energy bar of the other drastically going down on the screen. Hyunjin can't stop. The frustration that he has pent up over the last hour after seeing you cry and crumble over being dumped by his other friend drives him to the edge and he delivers another punch. Minho's character dramatically collapses as soon as the energy bar is empty and he drops the console by his side, pressing his back against the sofa, arms wrapped against his chest, pouting.

"I—"

"Go on," Hyunjin glares at him. "You better have a good explanation."

Minho runs a hand through his hair and sitting up straight, turning his torso to face Hyunjin, he tells, "I don't."

"You're lucky that we have a match soon, else you'd be six feet underground," Hyunjin sighs, throwing his hands over his head and folding it behind. "I can't believe you did that to Y/N."

"I fell out of love with her," Minho says. He doesn't dare to look at Hyunjin because he fears if the glares would actually result in him six feet underground. "Can't that be the only reason?"

Hyunjin chuckles, moreso at himself than at his friend, mumbling under his breath so low that Minho thinks it's just him humming, "Is it possible to fall out of love with her?"

He wishes Lee Minho could tell him how.

Hyunjin stands up, patting his denim jeans and looking at Minho, he warns, eyebrows furrowing, "I'll help her out with this. Just don't be a jerk and start dating in like two days."

"I—" Hyunjin glares at him. "Fine."

"Practice at seven," he adds and grabs the key of his motorcycle from the table before him. "Don't be late and act normal around Y/N."

"Fine, sir," Minho rolls his eyes. He won't admit it ever but the man warning him could be the reason for his breakup. That and his insecurity and fear of you cheating on him. But it's mostly Hwang Hyunjin. He knows how he feels even if you didn't.

Hyunjin walks out of Minho's house, closing the door on his way out and getting on his motorcycle, he rides back home to you. Just as he had promised you.

He opens the door to your room as soon as he enters his house, removing his shoes and placing it to the side, only to find his ears listening to the soft snores that let free from your lips. Carefully he walks towards you, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin lightly and tilting your head upwards to help you breathe properly.

He pauses for a minute just to watch you. Your eyebrows that you dislike so much just because according to you, it's not thick enough. He loves it however, even though you would never listen to him. Your eyelashes cast a gentle shadow on your high cheekbones and he gasps because you're so beautiful. You're so near to him and yet so far.

He bends forward, pushes your fringes to the side and places a soft kiss against your forehead, mumbling the words he wishes he could tell you straight up. Even if he did, you'd probably laugh and scoff at him.

"Beautiful girl," his lips graze the skin by your forehead, "You are a fighter. You have always been a fighter. You are stronger than you think. You are braver than you believe. Every challenge that life has thrown at you, you've conquered every obstacle that has been placed in front of you. You've overcome every single one of them. You are unstoppable and unbreakable and right now, you are filled with more faith than you have ever been."

Hyunjin pulls away, softly caressing the hair by the side of your face, "So please believe in yourself. You're worth so much love. So much of it, Y/N."

"The jerseys came!"

Bang Chan screams, a huge grin on his face as he opens the door for you. He runs to Felix and holds onto his shoulders before jumping up and down in joy. He is so delighted. "It looks so good, dude."

Hyunjin smiles, running towards you and helping you with the cardboard box. "It's alright," you mumble. "I'm the manager. It's my job."

"Pfft," he scoffs. "And I'm your best friend. It's my job." He picks the huge box that covers your entire upper half, easily and places it down before the coach and the team.

Jisung rushes to your side, nudging you with his elbow, "We've got a pretty good manager." He bends down and rips open the box, taking his jersey in his hand, "Number 13, bitches. Nothing shows what an amazing libero I am like the number most feared." You laugh.

"Number 10 isn't that bad, I guess." You hear Minho's voice break through the cluster of voices and your movements still. You turn your head to look at the brown haired boy who towers over you, wearing a smile so pretty that your heart still skips a beat.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiles. "Thanks for bringing this over."

"Uh," you fidget with your fingers, averting your gaze everywhere else besides at Minho. "I guess. It's my job, yeah."

Hyunjin notices. He always does. The boy runs towards you with his jersey. Number 1 printed in big behind. The setter brings the jersey so close to your face that it's buried in the fresh opened shirt. "Number 1, of course," he laughs, scrunching the shirt in his hand as he raises both his arms above.

"Oh, shut up, Jinnie," you laugh.

"Yeah, shut up, Jinnie," Jisung echoes. The middle blocker, though not the tallest in stature, is excellent at his position and has the biggest love-hate relationship with your best friend. He folds his arms and mocks Hyunjin.

Hyunjin places his right hand down on Jisung's head, ruffling his hair after pressing down on it. He scolds the older boy, "Don't call me Jinnie. Y/N's the only one who gets to call me that."

"Stop gathering around people," The captain claps his hands together to gather all of your attention. You quickly rush to his side and he smiles at you warmly, before looking at his team and glaring at each of them as they gather around him. "Yonsei University was kind enough to arrange a practice match with us thanks to—"

"Y/N," Jisung shouts, pivoting his arms by their sockets before lifting them both high above his head, cheering for you.

"Don't cut me off, Han," the coach shoots daggers at him, frowning visibly at the disobedience. "One more time and you're running around the gymnasium twenty times."

Jisung groans, only after winking at you. You chuckle under your breath, covering your face with the notepad in your hand. Hyunjin rolls his eyes, nudging Jisung to 'keep it in his pants' in the scariest voice ever. You could feel the dark clouds around Hyunjin, the aura darkening for a split minute before he breaks out into a huge smile as he looks at you.

The coach instructs out commands; strategies to help the team win against Yonsei. Moves that he's studied after watching their matches. You know this because you watched Hyunjin do the same at home. He does it at odd timings though.

You would wake up at three in the morning to grab a glass of water and you'd find your best friend squatting in front of the television as he watches every single one of Yonsei's matches. He wouldn't listen to you telling him to go to sleep because, "Being the captain is hard, Y/N. The whole team's banking on me to set the ball perfectly at the right time. I can't..."

And you understand. You understand the worries that go around in his head, the anxiety of being the best because he's no genius. He got to the top, made a name for him all thanks to his hard work and if he needs to keep it — he won't have it any other way — he swears to god that he would practise and study till he drops dead. Hwang Hyunjin loves volleyball that much.

So, you do what any friend would do.

You would make two cups of coffee, one for him and one for yourself. You sit next to him and watch the match with him. Your head lays back against the soft material of the sofa, just watching Hyunjin's eyes fixed on the screen, studying each movement of every player, gasping occasionally at how the setter of Yonsei's team leans his head back to decoy the opposite team only to dump the ball.

You don't remember much from that night because you fall asleep way too quick in the silence and in the presence of a focussed Hyunjin, your cup of coffee half empty. You don't remember anything from that night besides the fact that you woke up in your bed the next morning, or more like, Hyunjin waking you up the next morning because you overslept. Either ways, you were back in your bed and for that, you were grateful.

And as soon as the coach is done with the instructions, the team members scramble before splitting themselves into two groups, first to do serves and then perfect shots and finally, have a practice match.

You sit next to the coach, watching each and every member. That's what the previous manager told you to do. To observe. That's what the manager must do. To observe so well that you know each member well enough to know how their mind works, how their personalities are and who they truly want to be.

This is exactly why you can't seem to ever hate Lee Minho. Because you've seen him on the court, at his very best.

He's the best darn middle blocker you've ever seen. He doesn't tower that much over people with his height but when he jumps, lifting off his feet, he is as good as a wall cemented and strong before the opponent. He has only got better with every practice match and you realise that he wants to be better. And that's how he truly is. The constant urge to do better than the person he was before and perhaps, to Minho, you are someone he wants to leave behind in the past.

There's no one to blame here and you realise that it's a lot better if you accept the truth before it hurts you more than it should.

But then, in a second, Hyunjin takes your attention away whole heartedly. The boy arches his body so beautifully as he sets the ball for Jisung who slams the ball over the net with such force that leaves you gaping, notebook slamming your thigh. The coach stands up, his heels slamming the ground first before his toes do and he is as stunned as you are, eyes wide.

Funnily, Jisung's surprised too.

"We did it!" He says slowly, his words gradually making sense to him and when it does, he rushes to him, holding his shoulders and jumping ecstatically, "Hwang Hyunjin, we fucking did it!"

"When did you guys practice that?" The coach cuts the commotion short with his question. Hyunjin turns to face him along with Jisung, scratching the back of his head. Jisung is so overjoyed that he rushes to the coach, "Today morning! It sounded delusional but we pulled it off, coach."

You look at Hyunjin, who turns his attention back to you as soon as the coach is scrambling off to tell more instructions to Jisung on how he should time it a little bit earlier to hit it with even more impact. You smile, giving him a thumbs up and Hyunjin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Are you guys finally dating now that Minho's out of the picture?" Chan nudges Hyunjin. The man stumbles a step forward on impact only to quickly look at the older with eyes so wide that he wonders if it were possible.

"What?" He splutters the words out, voice haphazard after the cough.

"Everyone in the team thinks you guys should," Chan shrugs and Hyunjin's face morphs into that of seriousness almost instantly and shoots the other male with, "Did Minho hear of this?"

"Perhaps," Chan catches the ball Felix throws at him. The coach claps his hands to bring the attention back to him, barking out orders to resume the game. Chan pats Hyunjin's shoulders, "You know what we always tell, Hyunjin, in this sport—"

"Take the shot when you see the opportunity."

"Exactly."

"Or someone's going to block again," Chan sniggers and looks at Minho, who was trying his very best to avoid your gaze, "This time round, it could be someone better than our middle blocker."

You're picking up the volleyballs lying around when the guys go to shower and change, dribbling them slightly and smiling to yourself. A figure towers over you as they drop a ball into the huge bucket. You turn around to look up at Minho.

"Can we speak?"

"Do we have more to say?"

"I guess," he shrugs.

"We can still be friends, Minho," you sigh, eyes closed. "I also won't be those annoying types to tell Hyunjin to stay away from you because you broke up with me. You should know better."

"I didn't mean that," Minho looks offended. "I wanted to apologise. I should have tried harder perhaps."

"You should have."

"I know," Minho sucks in his lower lip. "I really should have but you know—"

"Lee Minho," your voice is firm. "I've told you a gazillion times that Hyunjin and I are just friends, Minho. Somehow you made up this sort of weird thing in your head so don't drag me into this mess. This is yours."

Minho scoffs, "You're going to eat your words soon," and picks up another ball. You remember the task you had forgotten in the heat of the moment, rushing to pick up a ball to put it back. The rest of the team is slowly making their way outside.

"I doubt," you sigh, throwing the last ball into the bucket and dusting your hands together. Jisung's darting towards you, hands in the air. Minho moves to the side, gliding against the floor, making way for the shorter man to reach you, bubbling with such enthusiasm you wonder what the cause of it is.

"Felix is treating us!"

Ah, so that's the reason. You smile at Jisung, nodding your approval. You push the bucket to the side of the gymnasium with Minho's help and switch the lights off as the team exits the gymnasium.

"Lee Minho!" You hear a feminine voice through the air, your eyebrows quirking upwards automatically. Hyunjin walks to your side, sighing as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sports jacket, mumbling so softly that you barely catch it, "I warned that asshole, God damn him."

Minho's face lights up in a way you haven't seen in a while and your heart is heavy. The woman, Irene — you hear Chan shout her name and wave at her — locks her arm with Minho's and walks with him, the man doing nothing to push her away. It shouldn't affect you. Not anymore now that the two of you have broken up and yet it hurts.

Hyunjin quickly pulls you away, preventing your eyes from lingering further even a minute more. His hand holds yours and he drags you to his motorcycle. You look down, biting the insides of your cheeks, alternating between the right and left every time you taste the copper of the blood.

"Your hand is so small," Hyunjin says. "Like look at how it fits into mine," he laughs, lifting your hand upwards as he clasps it tightly. He mumbles, "So small."

You break into a smile, watching Hyunjin tease you, momentarily drifting from the thought that upsets you and it leaves you wondering how Hyunjin does it all the time. He lets go of your hand, ruffling your hair as he bends lightly, "You've got this."

He quickly turns on the heels of his feet, pulling out the keys to his bike and igniting it. You hear Jisung scream from behind, "I thought you were taking me with you!"

Hyunjin screams back, "Carpool with the rest. I'm taking Y/N."

He lifts his leg, straddling the bike as he holds onto the handles, kicking the support free. He turns towards you and tells you to hop on and you do as he says. Your fingers hold his jacket, making sure you're not hugging him from behind. Minho's words run in your head and Hyunjin notices this small gesture of yours but he pays no heed. After all, it's been a while since he realised that what he has with you is better when it's platonic. He is too afraid to lose you.

"Jinnie," you tell him as he starts the motorbike, accelerating behind Jin who leads the way. You hear your best friend scream, "Yeah," through the loud winds that hit you.

You lean forward and speak closer into his ears, your jaw hitting his helmet, "Remember how I said the guys are to be blamed in a relationship."

"Yeah," he hints at you to proceed.

"Here's my first point. Minho back there," you point out. "It was that easy for a guy to move on. That easy," you stress your word. "While I'm here repenting if there was any way to get things back to where it was. However, there's no use in me trying because there's Minho with Irene like our relationship was a thing in the past."

"That doesn't mean he didn't care about you during the relationship. That's how guys are. They give it their everything when they're in the relationship," Hyunjin reasons and you laugh sardonically.

"You're kidding me, right? The girl definitely cares more. It almost seems so easy for the guys to break up and move on. Remember the time when you broke up with Lisa," you speak, raising your tone a little more so that Hyunjin can hear you. The motorcycle moving against the wind causes your hair to touch your mouth and you're spitting hair out facing the side. Hyunjin laughs, his grip on the accelerator tightening as he speeds up just a little bit, causing you to hold onto his jacket pockets a little tighter.

"Bro," Hyunjin mutters when you bring up Lisa. "I cried enough when she broke up with me, okay?"

"You did, for a day or two," you state. "The girl cried her heart out for a whole week. You went partying that Friday with Jisung!"

"Are we now using quantitative measurements to determine how deep our care and love is?" Hyunjin gasps, sounding very offended. "This reminds me why most relationships don't work. Because girls are shallow as fuck."

Hyunjin accelerates, missing sight of the speed breaker in front of him. It hurls you onto his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist to keep you safe. A soft scream leaves your lips as the side of your face buries into his broad back.

"Sorry," Hyunjin apologises quickly. "Didn't see that!" Hyunjin prays that you don't move your arms away but you do and he sighs, face falling. He is glad that you can't see him. Your hand is back to gripping his jacket and head back in this battle of words you're currently having with your best friend.

"It's okay," you tell him. "What's not okay is how you think women are shallow."

"They are!" He takes a turn to the left. Your thigh muscles tighten as it straddles the seat, fingers digging into his side for support. "I mean, let's be real, sweetheart. You take an hour or more to get ready for college."

"Because I want to look presentable!" You hit his broad back and he chuckles.

"Lies! You're shallow!"

"Says the person who walks around shirtless at home and stares at the mirror, lightly touching your abs and saying perfect," you tease and Hyunjin turns to look at you for a minute with his eyes wide before he turns his attention back on the road.

"You saw that?"

"Of course. I see that every day."

"But you're watching the television, how?"

"Reflections," you state.

He's gasping. The motorcycle slows down as it reaches Pizza Alvolo. The pizzeria is adjacent to a pretty park and you can hear the birds chirp lowly right before the sun is ready to set. You jump off the motorcycle, dusting the denims covering your thighs and Hyunjin removes his helmet, hooking it to the handle securely.

The rest of the team are seated in the pizzeria already waiting for the two of you, waving at you as soon as you enter the place. You rush and sit next to Jisung who has been aggravatingly patting the seat next to him. Hyunjin sits opposite to you, next to Chan. He snatches the menu from him and the elder male whines at the behaviour.

You look around and notice that Minho hasn't reached the place yet. Not that it mattered to you. You will slowly learn to stop caring so much for a man and you will soon be able to look at him and think of only the fond memories and nothing more.

Or so you thought.

The minute you see Minho walk into the pizzeria, although not with Irene, you feel the ground slip underneath you. Jisung is nice enough — albeit not knowing of the whole pickle you are in — to hold your wrist and turn your attention towards the stack of pizza boxes that come your way as he gleams, "Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!"

You look away from Minho and toward the direction Jisung points before turning to look at Hyunjin who lets out a loud sigh. You know that he's clutching at his thick thighs, nails digging into it at the sight of your uncomfortability. Hyunjin knows it will take you days to get over this break up, maybe weeks and that as a good best friend, he should wait. He should understand.

But it frustrates him so much. The sight of you being in pain, in hurt because of another man — his other best friend at that — pisses him off way more than he thought it should at first.

Hyunjin quickly takes his phone out and you narrow your eyes at him, mouthing, "Rude. Put it back into your pocket." In a second, your phone dings and you take yours out. Minho sits by Jisung's side in that second, a seat away from you and your heartbeat accelerates. You unlock your phone to see a message from Hyunjin and you lift up your head, raising an eyebrow at him and he eyes at you to open the message.

Jinnie: do you want to leave?

Your eyes widen and your lips part slightly. You don't respond immediately, locking the phone and shoving it back into your pocket. You smile at Hyunjin, trying to signal that you were alright so far. Jisung opens the cardboard boxes of the pizza and squeals. Chan looks at the situation, analysing if it'd be bad for the team on a bigger approach. Hyunjin might be the captain but had it not been for Chan's guidance, the volleyball team would not have lasted a day more with the differences.

Felix announces, "Eat to your heart's merry! I might never treat again." He takes the first bite for courtesy's sake before telling everyone to join in.

The team laughs and Minho smiles, the skin by his eyes wrinkling and your heart stops to remember all the reasons you were so madly in love with this man. It is at this minute you realise it'll take you maybe a little longer than you thought, a little longer than a casual fling and a little lesser than a long term relationship. You should have known this is bound to happen the minute you allowed yourself to let your petty emotions take over.

And maybe, just maybe, it is the fact that you have to pretend to be alright with having Minho around you that makes this heartbreak pain ten times worse.

Surprisingly, Hyunjin already seems to know because he doesn't stop glancing at you after every bite of the slice he has in his hand.

You stretch your arm out to take a slice of the pepperoni pizza on the table at the same time Minho stretches his arms out to take one. Your fingers brush against his and you jolt your hand backwards, mumbling, "Sorry."

Jisung laughs without knowing and teases, "Why would you apologise for brushing your boyfriend's hand?" He takes a bite of his pizza and as soon as he finishes chewing, he continues, "I mean, you guys do nastier stuff and suddenly, you all are prim and proper, Y/N. Love the contrast you exhibit. It's beautiful. You guys could be at it every time I catch you in the gymnasium alone. Also, you're his longest relationship. You should pride yourself—"

Jisung is speaking and you won't look up. Hyunjin has dropped the knife slightly just to try and get him to stop, though in vain and Minho's looking at you. His eyes won't leave your frame and you just want to leave. It is too early for you to be alright with this. Way too early.

"Stop, Jisung," Chan tells him, reading the situation in the room.

"Why?" Jisung's laughing. Felix understands by now, seeing your face hung down and so does the rest of the team besides the man himself. You can't even come to be angry at Jisung because he seems so innocent, unaware of it all.

You spill the beans for your own heart's safety, "Minho broke up with me."

Minho doesn't shift his eyes at anyone else and Hyunjin holds the knife again, a little too tight this time. Jisung's smile turns instantly into a frown and he turns his head to glare at your now ex-boyfriend.

He doesn't bother to filter his words. "Why the fuck did you do that, you arsehole?" Minho turns to look at Jisung for a split second before his eyes are back at yours. You lift your head to lock gaze with him and you feel your chest tighten, eyes water and it hurts.

Everything seems so much more painful.

Chan says once again, his voice firm, ready to not listen to one more word of the conversation, "Stop it, Jisung. Read the room."

You stretch your arm out to have another bite of the pizza and everyone eats in silence. The room is pregnant with the most awkward silence you had been in your whole life. You take your phone out, unlocking it and finally replying to the message.

Jisung puts another slice of pizza onto your plate and you smile at him. Felix tries breaking the uneasy tension by talking about this dude he met in his neighborhood that was kind of cute. After sitting for another two minutes, you push your chair back to Jisung's surprise and stand up. Hyunjin stands up instinctively, his calves pushing his chair back and everyone at the table looks at the two of you.

Jinnie: do you want to leave?

"I just realised I have to do some grocery shopping," you laugh nervously. "There's absolutely nothing back at home. Not that Hyunjin would buy anything and keep, right?"

Hyunjin chuckles and everyone in the room knows quite obviously that you are trying to escape the scene. They are kind enough to let you. Felix asks, spilling the oregano seasonings on top of his pizza slice, "Is Hyunjin going with you?"

"Ye—"

"No," you cut your best friend before he can give his approval. "I'll go alone." You stretch your arm out, palm facing upwards, "Keys, please?"

"Don't hurt my baby," Hyunjin's sincerity is voiced and you laugh genuinely. Little did you know he meant both you and his motorbike. He drops the key to his motorbike onto your hand and you do a little cheer. Jisung mumbles, "Cute," before stuffing his face with pizzas.

"Have a good time, guys," you wish them and grab your bag, hanging on the chair. Jisung waves enthusiastically. Felix, Chan and the rest of the team waves too. You smile fondly at your team and walk towards the door only to find Hyunjin following you.

"What do you think you are doing right now, mister?"

"Can't I walk you out at the very least, woman?" Hyunjin gapes in dismay. He pulls open the glass door and you laugh.

"Sure thing," you say and walk towards his motorbike. Hyunjin leaves the door after stepping out, the glass door swinging back to shut itself. You swing your legs over his bike, straddling the automobile and dropping your chest slightly to balance the heavy vehicle.

"You sure you'll be alright?"

"Don't you trust your teaching? You taught me how to ride this thing. Don't worry."

You look over Hyunjin's shoulder to see Minho still looking at you, worry smeared all over his face and you feel your throat constricting again as you do your best to tear your eyes away from him.

Hyunjin takes a step closer, making sure everything's alright with the vehicle so that it doesn't endanger you. He places his hand over your wrist and you look at him in confusion, "Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I will," you laugh. "What are you? My daddy?"

Hyunjin stiffens for a minute before he lets go of all the inappropriate thoughts that fill him for a minute there before teasing you, "Do you want me to be your daddy?"

"Nah," you throw your head back. "You aren't that rich enough." You place the helmet over your head and look at him. Hyunjin taps your helmet and hugs you slightly.

"I'll see you at home."

You start the bike on ignition and look over Hyunjin's shoulder one last time to look at Minho, locking gazes with him before you pull yours away from him towards Hyunjin.

You look ahead, the clear road in front of you and turn the accelerator only after telling Hyunjin, giggling slightly,

"Sure thing, Daddy."

Hyunjin, on the other hand, is too caught up in his worry, eyes lingering behind the trailing presence of yours that finally disappears from his sight into a speck that fades away. In any other circumstances, he would have found your petite figure driving the huge motorcycle and you even calling him daddy, although in a teasing tone, insanely hot.

Right now, however, he just hopes you are safe. He wishes he could be by your side at every second.

Gaho's Stay Here blasts on the bluetooth speaker. Hyunjin pulls open the door only to find you lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling with the most emotionless face he has ever seen you with. His eyes dart towards the empty bottles of soju on the small table in the hall.

"Y/N?"

You sit up, looking at your best friend and your lip pucker out quickly pouting at the sight of him and you stretch your arms out wide, squealing, "Hyunjinnie. You are home."

Hyunjin walks towards you, plopping on the couch and sitting next to you. He quickly lifts his arm up, hand darting back and forth at the air to steer the smell away as he frowns at you, "You reek of liquor, dude."

You quickly hug him, wrapping your arms around his frame from the side and snuggling your face into his shoulder. Hyunjin stiffens under your grip and he looks down at your being with eyes closed and he realises that you might after all just be a small being in need of some loving. He wishes to be the person to do that. Hwang Hyunjin utterly and truly wants to be your person.

Hyunjin takes your phone to stop playing the music — Stay Here that's been currently playing on repeat for the twentieth time straight — and you whine against his skin, tickles running down Hyunjin's spine.

"Don't stop the music," you mumble and Hyunjin looks at you and your figure that hugs him securely, head snuggled by his neck, chin digging into the skin by his collarbone and all Hyunjin can focus on is his heart that is beating furiously against his chest.

"Y/N," Hyunjin's voice seems like an anchor to your woozy mind and you hug him tighter, gripping stronger on to his white shirt. You hum in response and Hyunjin continues, "Gaho's music doesn't seem very fitting for the minute."

You pull apart, your face morphing and changing into that of offense as you glare at him, mumbling, "Gaho is the only one that understands me." You play the music again, the bluetooth speakers blasting with the sad slow tune in the air and you feel the want to cry all over again.

You stretch your arm out to take a soju bottle from the table to down it all out when Hyunjin stretches out to stop you, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. He locks his eyes with yours and in the softest, most caring voice you've ever heard from him, he says, "Don't, Y/N. It hurts me too."

"Can I hold you?"

In a split moment, the room is filled with just the soft beats of Gaho's Start Over playing, your raspy breaths and Hyunjin's lost stare. His grip on your wrist tightens and your mind is far too intoxicated to think if this friendship could be ruined. Your heart is heavy, chest tight and you want someone to free you. Anyone. You are clawing at the imaginary wall all by yourself and anyone could be a help. Anyone that is not Lee Minho.

"Yes," and you fall on Hyunjin at the exact same moment he pulls your hand closer towards him. The timing seems to have lapsed on to each other. Your chest on Hyunjin's, eyes looking up at him as your arms snake slowly over his torso. You snuggle forward, rubbing against his body slightly and Hyunjin sighs.

To Hyunjin, the scene is a lot dramatic just because of the soft music playing and because you are drunk off your head according to him, barely able to make decisions. He just doesn't want to do anything that will make either of your friendships but right now, in this minute with you almost on top of him, locking your eyes in his, your arms around his torso, close enough to feel every part of your being, he wants to be drunk too.

Hyunjin wants to be drunk so that he can make a mistake. Hyunjin wants to be so drunk that he can't think just because he is a coward.

"Do you feel better?" He asks and you snuggle into his chest, burying your face into it as you hold him. Your lonely heart being comforted by just his presence and in the back of your drunk head, you know you feel a little bit more that causes your heart to flutter when Hyunjin cares.

You and Hyunjin are both cowards — two small people in this big world with big emotions unwilling to risk one status for another, over the fear of losing each other.

But Hyunjin wants to risk it tonight. After years of pining, he wants to risk this golden friendship he has shared with you for years now. You are the trigger, however. You lift your face away from his chest and crawl slightly towards him, pushing yourself against him. You look at him, lips pressed together and you stretch your right arm upwards to hold his face in your hand.

"Jinnie," your voice lets out his name in such an airy tone that it seems to disappear away even before it reaches his ear. His eyes are glassy and his heart is in his throat, eager in nothing but anticipation that is risen from all his hoping.

It happens as he has imagined. You lean forward so slowly that he pictures every second vividly and in an instant, your lips are on his. Hyunjin knows it should have felt wrong but God, save him — nothing felt more right than this.

You kiss him and his whole world falls away. It lingers, like a memory that stays behind. Your lips are slow and soft against him, comforting yourself and him in ways that words would never be. Hyunjin's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss. Something so small and insignificant to seemingly anyone else yet it means the whole world to Hyunjin. It is the whole world to Hyunjin because this is all that is needed to let him astray, hinge released of the stupid restrictions he has made up in his head over you.

Your small kiss is all Hyunjin needs to hold on to because in the next minute, he is pulling you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your coral ones. You let out a small gasp and run your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you and you can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute.

Hyunjin's lips are slammed against yours, nearly knocking all wind from your lungs and you don't know if it is your feelings or Hyunjin himself. He presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth. Hyunjin kisses you like he thinks it is the last time he will ever be able to have his lips against yours.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. In an instant, you pull away and arch up into his broad chest, moaning in the contact of body heat against your own, before you draw back into his lips. Hyunjin can feel the burn of hard soju in his mouth, thanks to you, and it rolls off your tongue into his, seeping down his throat and he can't hate it. There is a thrill in its own that Hyunjin knows stems from you.

If it was possible, Hyunjin would slow down time.

You pull back eventually only to hug him, humming against his neck, lips pressed against the soft expanse of his skin. Hyunjin's hand is pressed against your back as he pats you in a steady rhythm, instinctively humming to a tune that could calm you.

"Jinnie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," and he feels your weight fall on to his shoulder as you snuggle closer into his neck, your warm breath fanning against him, sending shivers down his spine. "For everything."

Hyunjin holds you for a while, silence and nothing but your breathing that is soft music to his ears, till he hears your soft snores buzzing against his eardrums and he knows you have fallen asleep in his arms, against his chest.

The next morning, you find yourself magically in your bed, comforter on top of you covering every inch of you, head aching thanks to your reckless drinking last night with no memory of whatsoever that happened. Lightheaded you should have known better.

Hyunjin chooses to be a coward, the morning after.

The greens that cover the campus is the only other thing that keeps you sane in this university. The first being, the volleyball team. However, you don't know anymore if it is still, in the present.

You sit on the same bench before a beautiful fountain with a tiger head right in the centre, watching the vast basketball court. A place that holds way more memories to you now than it did a year before.

You shake your legs, feet pointing forward as you listen to music with about half an hour in your hand to waste before you head down towards the gymnasium to meet with the volleyball team. Besides few people that walk down towards their classes, the campus looks pretty stranded as you watch every single person stay happy in their sphere.

"Y/N," you hear your name being called out through yet another one of Gaho's songs and you lift your head up, to look at the person by your side, standing and providing you the shade they probably didn't intend to.

It's the man himself, the one who broke your heart for an explanation that made no sense to you. Lee Minho.

He stands tall, towering over you and your neck aches from looking up at him that you decide to stand up, removing the earbuds and placing it on the wooden bench, next to your phone.

"You're here." You gulp. "Aren't you supposed to be headed to the gym for practice?"

The fountain is everything you associate Minho with — moreover, it is perhaps the relationship with him that you associated the beautiful water fountain with. To see the very same man before you right now is needless to say surprising.

"I could ask you the same thing," Minho chuckles. He takes out a small cone of butterscotch ice cream and extends his arm, offering it to you. You smile softly, thanking him, sitting down back on the bench. "Can I sit here?" He asks and you nod, unwrapping the wrapping paper around the ice cream.

"Yeah," you tap on the seat by your side. You take a bite of your ice cream and Minho visibly flinches, mumbling, "Still the same."

"You broke up with me like two days back. What did you expect? A nirvana attained me?" You scoff. You take another bite of the ice cream, the sensitivity hitting your teeth and you hiss.

"Brutal," Minho chuckles darkly. You scoff, turning your head away and taking another bite of your ice cream. Minho opens his ice cream and you raise an eyebrow at him, mumbling, "You don't eat ice cream though."

"Thought you might want another one," he smiles and the thought of a second ice cream lights you up. "There you go smiling like a dork as always at the thought of it." Minho laughs and you bend forward to take it, your left arm stretching forward. Minho tugs it backwards and your body moves a little more to grab at it until it's too far for you, bringing you to your present position.

Your hand is on Minho's chest, his eyes locked in yours and you are surprised. This is not in your to do list and yet with Minho's grip on your wrist, you drop your ice cream as soon as he edges closer. His face is so close that you can see the perfect plump lips pout slightly, his face glistening in the bright sun and you gasp softly. It has been a while since he has been this close and he still makes your heart go livid within you, beating crazy.

He drops his ice cream in a second, his hands pressing forward to cup your face and pull you into him to kiss the living hell out of you. Your eyes widen, arms falling limp on either side as you stiffen.

"Can I try something?" He hesitates, iron grip on you.

"Try?" You look worried and the next minute, Minho is kissing you, his plump lips on yours for a while before he moves them against yours, taking hold of your lower lip.

It is an instinct. You choose to blame it rather on instincts. Your hand moves to grab the linen draping his arm as you hold it and kiss Minho back. It is as bitter as coffee thanks to all the memories that go along with it and yet — you find yourself drowning. You find yourself wanting more. You find yourself hoping if Minho could stay, if Minho could just pretend to love you, if not.

And it breaks your heart.

All over again.

A lone tear leaves your eyes and then another, till you are crying as you kiss him. A wet messy affair at its finest. Minho pulls back in surprise feeling the wetness against his skin. He cups your face and holds you, looking at you to check for damage — little does he know of the emotional one. Or maybe he does and he chooses to ignore. Typical Lee Minho.

"Did I hurt you?"

Your emotions take over, sanity pushed to the back. You are pulling yourself from Minho as he tries to hold you to calm you down. Your fist plummets down onto his hard chest once and then, for the second time till you are hitting him over and over again till you completely break down in front of him. Minho quickly pulls you into a hug, holding you close till you completely soak his white shirt with your tears.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you—" It's a repeated chant. Over and over again till you don't remember how many times you told Minho the same thing. Your mind goes insane with the overdrive of emotions. Did you like Minho still? You don't know. You don't know whether it's the familiarity of his hugs or his kisses or his whole presence that you crave or if it's his love.

"I'm sorry," he whispers and you accept because it's the first time an apology from Lee Minho sounded this sincere. "I'm sorry for breaking your heart." He snuggles into the crook of your neck, swallowed by guilt. Perhaps this is why one should never date their friends; because you lose something much greater.

"I hate you more now for kissing me here," you manage to say, throat rasp from the crying. "How could you stain this memory too? How dare you stain the memory of the location of our first kiss? It was supposed to be a bittersweet memory when I sit here and think." Minho is still hugging you.

"I'm sorry."

It is still bittersweet in a new way, you realise — the fact that Lee Minho kisses you for the last time, you swear to God, in the very same place he kissed you for the first time. The weather changed, the people around changed and the emotions changed. Even after all that, the fountain stays proud and mighty and bears witness to more new relationships and new heartbreaks. Nothing changes besides you. Nothing changes besides what we want.

You pull away from him. Sitting straight, facing the vast basketball court and the juniors playing the game, you make a decision, firm and determined. The soft pink petals fall down from the cherry blossom trees over the two of you and Minho looks at you, and then at the spilled ice cream. To see the boughs that were so bereft in the snow become so beautifully adorned should lift your spirits infinitely and it does slightly. Their scents diffuse in the warming breeze and you hold your head high to savour it.

"Let's stay away from each other for a while."

Minho's eyes shoot up, head lifting up to face you. He does not refute. After all, he knows he has to take a step behind after breaking your heart. What he does not understand is how the two of you could stay away from each other when your friend circles overlap to a large extent.

"How?" He finally asks. "How do I help you with that?"

"By doing just that. Give me space and time to get over you. I'll come back asking for your hand in friendship again," you smile. Your tear stained visage and the difficult smile you put forth is a funny combination but you manage to pull it off well, you'd say. "You don't have to take the first step this time. Let me do this on my own, Minho."

You stand up on your own, grabbing your earphones and your phone. Minho stands up, following suit and asks, "Are you leaving?"

"Yes," you turn only to look at him as you walk backwards. "And you have to head for practice. So get going. I won't have you mess up your performance by all means." You turn back and move ahead. From everything.

"You know I wouldn't," Minho screams back and the last syllable ends with a laugh. You lift your hand to wave and you leave, far, far away from him.

You now have an open wound to stitch back and you know you have to do it on your own.

Hyunjin's phone rings right when he decides to serve the ball. He drops the ball in surprise, the sphere rolling all the way to where his phone is placed. Chan groans, stopping his pace at the sound of the phone ringing, and yells, "Yah! Hyunjin, how many times should I tell you to switch off your phone?"

Felix walks in exactly at that minute, laughing, "Anyone from outside would totally think Chan's the captain!"

Hyunjin runs to his phone, his blond hair strands falling forward, ponytail swinging left and right. Felix laughs at the sight, walking towards the ball and picking it up before throwing it at Chan who catches it swiftly. Hyunjin sees your name on the phone, eyes lighting up instantly and a smile prominent only for Chan to announce, "It's Y/N."

"Of course, it is," Felix scoffs. "Where's the rest of the guys? I thought you said we were to come early—" Felix pauses, eyes widening and gasping, "Hold up! Y/N is late. Whoa!"

"They are probably running towards the gym right now," Hyunjin says before picking up the call. He mouths to the rest, "It'll be short, I promise," and pouts. Chan sighs, only to smile and wave his hand at him to take the call.

"Y/N," Hyunjin cheers up instantly. "Where are—" He hears a choked sob from the other hand and Hyunjin stiffens, face losing the smiling in a second. "Are you alright?"

"I am," you strain it out. You barely manage through with the chokes and that pain that ripples through in waves but you eventually find the words to tell him, "I won't make it to practice today. Yeah?"

"Where are you?"

Hyunjin is angry and he doesn't even know who it is aimed at. He is just beyond mad at the fact that you are crying and someone made you cry. The thought of the skin by your eyes aching and eyes red and burning over anyone made him so angry that he could punch a wall through.

"I'm not telling you," he hears you say and he clenches his fist.

"Stop being a brat, Y/N," he stresses and Chan gestures at him, asking if there was something wrong. Hyunjin nods. "Where are you?"

"Leave me alone, Jinnie," you tell him through the phone, "Please," and his eyes widen before he calms himself down, realising that you are trying to cope all alone, a pathetic self-destructive quirk of yours that he had learned to live with after all these years. He gulps and realises you truly needed time alone and he hums in approval.

"Please reach out to me when you need me," he begs. "Please, Y/N."

Felix and Chan are staring at Hyunjin in worry when the door to the gymnasium opens and Jisung rushes into the room. He is panting and he looks around, searching for someone. Hyunjin turns away, his attention back on the call in his hands and he ends the call quickly, making a note in his mind to check up on you after practise. Not that you would let him miss practise. (Not that Hyunjin would do it to himself in the first place. He'd kill for volleyball.)

He walks towards the rest when Minho walks in, black duffel bag on his shoulder. Jisung is quick on his feet as he runs towards the other man, hands on his shoulders and he shakes the living hell out of him.

"He's gone crazy, dude," Felix mumbles and Chan laughs.

Hyunjin stays at a comfortable distance still, looking at his phone in worry every now and then. The man lifts his head and brings his attention back to the present only when he hears your name leave Jisung's mouth.

"Whoa, dude. You got back together with Y/N?"

"What?" Chan is the first to respond. "You did what?"

"I didn't get back together with her," Minho says, his voice is monotone and lacks anything more than nonchalance and it pisses the hell out of Hyunjin who has his fists still clenched tightly.

"I saw you kissing her but. . ." Jisung drops the bomb all at once in such a lost way that he doesn't realise the impact it was to have in this large gymnasium.

Hyunjin is charging forwards all at once, yelling, "You bastard," as he throws a punch at Minho. The blond dyed man is quick to put two and two together and realise that you are after all, crying because of the black haired man before him.

He pushes him back, Minho hitting the floor and Hyunjin's on top of him, punching him with his clenched fist, mind void and painted in hot red anger. Minho has his arms, blocking his punches and chooses to play on the defensive side.

In fear, we are all monsters. Hyunjin believes that he would be afraid of himself had he astral projected and looked at himself in this minute, all unhinged because of one girl — one girl he would set the world on fire for.

All that rage comes out faster than magma for Hyunjin and is just as destructive. More so because he's the captain. It consumes all that he is, so delicate under that carefully ordered world and carefully put up feign that he is alright with Minho breaking the heart of the girl he loves. Minho shrivels before him but Hyunjin does not stop. He relentlessly keeps going, stopping short of physical violence but doing far more damage with the words that he throws.

Chan tries to pull Hyunjin away as Jisung drags Minho from underneath him. The black haired man is left with bruises and a busted lip. On the other hand, Hyunjin is still fuming, along with Chan, sporting a few cuts from Minho who decided to throw a few punches in the last moment.

"Can you all stop?" Felix sighs.

"Why would you bastard make her cry again?" Hyunjin raises his voice. He's yelling at this point, loud enough for everyone passing by the gymnasium to hear. "Why the fuck would you make Y/N cry again? I told you to leave her alone!"

"This wouldn't have happened if things went different—" Hyunjin tries to rush forward to hit him again upon hearing his words, but Chan and Changbin, another teammate, have a strong grip on him. His blond ponytail lashes in anger and he fights against the two, trying to let go of himself. Minho yells back, "I would have never broken up with her if you never liked her, Hyunjin."

"What?" He stops still in his tracks, limbs falling and Chan lets go.

"How am I supposed to think it's alright for you to randomly stare at my girlfriend with heart eyes? For fuck's sake, you guys hug way more than I hug her," Minho glares, chest rising up as he vents everything he has bottled up so far. "If you had always liked her, you should have told me! I shouldn't have overheard it from Chan telling you to ask her out." Chan's face pales visibly. "I would have tried making her stay. I would have made her stay. I would have," Minho's voice lowers. "I still did, but I was too late."

Hyunjin has no words to refute. His eyes widen and his heart is in his throat, barely being able to say, "You could have taken it out on me. Why would you drag her into this? She loved you. She still wavers because of you. Your faithless love was the only hoax she was forced to believe."

Jisung pouts in awe at the words Hyunjin spills and Minho mumbles, "I don't know. I couldn't think straight."

Felix drops the ball with force, suddenly. The ball squelches before raising high and hitting the wall with impact. He folds his arms and speaks up, "Stop acting like kids." He points at Minho. "You, stop putting the blame of your failed relationship on Hyunjin. Him liking Y/N did not ruin your relationship. You killed it yourself."

"But he—"

"I liked her even before you made a move on her. Nothing has changed, Minho," Hyunjin inhales sharply.

"It's because you're a coward, you arsehole."

Hyunjin closes his eyes, looking away, mumbling, "Not going to even bother denying that. I'd be dating her if I wasn't this scared of losing her."

Felix proceeds to point at Hyunjin, glaring sharply at him, "You call yourself a captain? We have a match in a few days and you decide to lose control and beat up your teammate? One of the best middle blockers out there! What in the world are you thinking, Hyunjin? Jesus Christ, when Y/N hears of this, she's going to beat you up so bad for doing this to him in the name of the team."

Hyunjin doesn't dare to look up at Felix, shuffling the balance of his body from one feet to another. He is embarrassed. He should have never let his emotions take control of his body and yet he did.

Chan walks towards Felix before announcing, "We'll start practice in five. I want the two of you to sort this out by the end of this day. If you haven't, I don't want either of you coming to practice tomorrow."

"I'm the setter!" Hyunjin protests.

"Jeongin can do a darn good job too, so shut up and listen to me well."

"Now," Felix claps his hand, smiling once again brightly before running to pick up the ball. "Let's practice like the perfect team we are!"

"And like I couldn't stop myself. It's like something dragged me to move forward and the next thing I knew, I was on top of Minho—"

"Fuck, that'd be hot."

"Y/N, focus. And like I was beating the crap out of him."

You dab an alcoholic swab over the small wounds on his face as he seethes in pain and you sneer, "Deserved it."

"Ouch," Hyunjin fakes offense. "Side with me at least now. You aren't dating him anymore." You stop, your hand midair and you dab constantly over his wounds till Hyunjins screaming, "Ow, ow, ow. I'm sorry," and holds your wrist and pulls it away.

"But you messed up your team dynamics just because of your anger," you frown. "You and Minho better sort it out quickly, Jinnie. Else, I swear to God." You glare at him.

"What will you do?" Hyunjin laughs, scrunching his nose and teasing you. You place the bandaids over the wounds and raise an eyebrow. Hyunjin prompts, "Bite me?"

"I will," you warn and Hyunjin scoffs, "As if."

You bite him. His shoulder, to be exact. Your teeth hold onto his socket for a good one minute tightly till he is yelping, hitting your back to let go of him as he hisses in pain. You let go of him and narrow your eyes at him. Hyunjin is shocked. So shocked that he blankly stares at you with his mouth wide open.

"Are you a dog?"

"I could be one if you taunt me too much."

"Wow," he blinks and you poke the insides of your cheek with your tongue. "Wow, you're truly one of a kind." And Hyunjin breaks down laughing, holding his shoulder with his hand and bending forward overcome by intense laughter.

"Buy me mint choco," he prompts. "Because now you injured me and I want compensation."

"Excuse me?"

Hyunjin pushes himself forward, edging closer to you, looking you in your eyes before saying, "You know you have to," in a low guttural tone that your heart does a whole somersault, triple axle and then lands with an ovation. "You hurt me."

You push him away and you leap onto your feet, your eyes wide and your hand over your chest. Hyunjin looks at you with a raised eyebrow. To change the mood of the situation, you quickly announce, "Fine. You'll get mint chocolate only if you get ready and come out in five minutes. Else you pay for it on your own."

Hyunjin stands up and holding your wrist, he pulls you with him to the door. You look at him in utter confusion and ask, "What are you doing?"

Hyunjin stops in his tracks and turns to look at you, blond strands leaving his ponytail to cover his eyes slightly and pink lips so plump that you wonder how they feel. The realisation that you have started viewing your best friend as someone more than just that hits you and you look down instantly. When did this happen?

"I'll just wear a coat and so should you," Hyunjin laughs. "Ice cream can't wait."

People think of laughing as a noise that comes from the mouth more often than not, but when Hyunjin laughed it was nothing like that. The laugh is in his eyes, in the way his face changes into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. And yet, in all honesty, it is not in his face either. His laugh comes from within, it is just the way he is wired with the instant ability to comfort someone. Just the sound of his gales, his snickers, his giggles, was enough to transport you far away from all your worries and the tension your life has in the minute.

Enough to make you forget that you have to tell him today about the decision you have taken.

Hyunjin and you walk down the stairs and off onto the road in five minutes as planned. The cool air of the night hits you and you hold yourself closer, the long coat held tightly to your body surface. Hyunjin laughs before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close by just a little bit and yet enough to share his body warmth.

"Mint choco, here we come!" And he runs with you.

The thing with your stupid heart is that you don't understand why it is beating so rapidly in this moment, your heart beat easily jumping to more than 95bpm and all because Hyunjin holds you. You look at the man by your side, his blond hair moving with the air, exposing his face and you wonder — had Hwang Hyunjin always been this beautiful?

You have known Hyunjin for a long time now. Too long for you to realise that your heart had a change in its plans for emotions recently. You have known Hyunjin way too long to know that you want him for a lifetime by your side, as a best friend at the very least and the thought that if you did act upon your new emotions that you have just discovered in this cold, breezy night, you are screwed.

Hyunjin turns to look back at you after hearing absolutely no sound from you. His face pales when he realises you are looking far ahead and he wonders if you do remember now. If you remember the drunk night.

So he asks to put himself at ease, "Y/N?"

"Huh?" You jolt up to consciousness, looking properly at Hyunjin. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember the night a few days back?"

"Night? Few days back?" You ponder. "When I was drunk?"

"Yeah," Hyunjin mumbles and you raise your body in anticipation, finally wanting to ask about the magical teleportation.

"Now that we are on this topic," you fold your arms and raise your eyebrows at your best friend. Hyunjin shuffles his balance from his left to his right. "Did you carry me to bed that night?"

Hyunjin chokes on air, sputtering out incoherent words before finally forming one proper sentence, "You knew?"

"You're the only other person I live with and I don't have any recollection of going to bed so like I presumed," you look down, heat rising to your cheek and you fidget with your fingers. "That you carried me to bed."

"That's all that you remember?"

You lift your head up, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, "Is there more?"

"Uh," Hyunjin turns back to face forward, his broad back in your vision again as he walks forward to the ice cream parlour by the junction.

"Hyunjin?" He walks quicker. "Yah! Hwang Hyunjin!" You follow him with quick, short strides, almost jogging up to him. "What did I do, Jinnie?" He opens the glass door to the ice cream parlour. "Yah, Hwang Hyunjin, tell me no matter how embarrassing it is." You follow him into the white aesthetically pretty place.

You finally catch hold of his coat and tug at it. Hyunjin turns, his cheeks flushed and you wonder what in the world happened that night. Yes, you have vague memories of hugging Hyunjin and passing out, but for him to act like this — wait, you didn't empty your stomach out on him, did you?

"Did I—" Hyunjin's eyes widens. He turns back, his attention on the man behind the counter and he points towards you.

"She's paying."

"Okay," the man nods and turns to look at you, waiting for your order. You sigh, glaring at your best friend before ordering one quantity of mint chocolate ice cream. Your eyes waver to the green ice cream and you frown in displeasure, something Hyunjin catches sight of your expression.

"How dare you?" He folds his arms, dramatically. "The only people that matter in this world are the one that like mint chocolate." The man at the counter smiles at the two of you.

You open your mouth, clicking your tongue, "I'm not paying money to eat toothpaste."

The man behind the counter laughs out loud and Hyunjin glares at him, scoffing. He takes the ice cream from his hand and waits for you to pay. The tall man looks at the two of you, again, before finally telling, "Good luck on your relationship. It's always fun to see couples have an argument over mint chocolate and still be so in love with each other." He turns to look at Hyunjin only, "For your information, I like mint chocolate."

Both Hyunjin and you look at each other, either of you waiting for the other person to disagree with the man but there is just silence. You can feel Hyunjin looking at you through the corners, waiting for you to refute like you always do. You don't and you do not even know why. The heat builds up beneath the apples of your cheek and the thought of being in a relationship with your best friend strangely brings about a wave of calmness within you, doing its best to shove the uncertainty of so many things away.

"Thank you for the ice cream," you say and walk to an empty table. Hyunjin thanks the man too, and follows you, sitting on the seat opposite to you and places the mint chocolate in between.

He watches you, unsure of the situation and you bite your lower lip nervously before shoving the cup closer to him and mumbling, "Eat. We came all the way here for you."

"You should have gotten another ice cream," Hyunjin frowns.

"It's past nine," you laugh, your hair falling over the chair as you lean back. "I can't let fat into my body after nine. You know that."

"Why do I know you?" Hyunjin puts his hand on his forehead looking at you and then he pushes the cup of ice cream towards your side. "Disappointment." You look at your best friend, disgusted and he won't take the disrespect though.

"It's a refreshing taste," he digs in and takes a big bite. "Plus, it's the right balance." He lifts the spoon with a small amount of the mint ice cream and shoves it right in front of your face. "The perfect amount of mint, chocolate and milk to make the world's most perfect ice cream."

You push his hand away and glare, "Why would you ruin two beautiful sweets," you raise an eyebrow, "Chocolate and ice cream by including," you fake a gag, "Mint?"

"Because mint balances the sweetness of the chocolate," he scoffs. "All you mediocre people won't understand. Mint chocolate was created for the elite class."

"Did you just call me mediocre?" your jaw drops and Hyunjin laughs. It's soft, airy and so carefree that you don't mind the fact that he is laughing at you and not with you. You don't mind one bit when you break down and laugh with him, unable to keep your face straight as you lean forward on the table, your head resting on your hands and you watch Hyunjin.

You decide to tell him of your decision in this minute.

"I'm going to make Seungmin manage the team," you tell Hyunjin and he stares at you, the spoon dropping from his hand and clattering against the glass rim of the ice cream cup. You continue, "He's always wanted to manage the volleyball team and I thought I should let him—"

"Why?" He sounds hurt. Disappointed, in fact and your heart plummets down.

"I thought it's time to move on."

"From the team or Minho?"

"Minho," you say, nibbling on your lower teeth. "I want to go back to him—"

"What?" Hyunjin feels his heart sink.

"Don't cut me off, hoe," you click your tongue. "I want to go back to him and be his friend. I'm not ready to ruin a friendship over this. I just won't."

Hyunjin looks down at his cup of ice cream. His spoon digs into the cold dessert over and over again till he realises that he'll do what he has always done for you — be right by your side as your pillar.

"Feed me," Hyunjin prompts and you stare at him with a void expression, mouth still open, wondering if he suggested this only and only to change the topic. Hyunjin stretches his arm out to shut your mouth. "People are going to think I'm starving you here."

"Whoa." You lift your head up. "And if I do that, people are going to think we're possibly the cutest couple out there still in our glorious honeymoon phase of it."

"Okay," Hyunjin shrugs and leans back against the chair, folding his arms against each other.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with that."

You sit up straight and look down before finally saying, "Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Those words that make my heart flutter. I don't know what to feel, Hyunjin." Hyunjin is too stunned to react and whine over the fact that you called him properly by his name in your conversation. The fact that he too can cause your heart to race a little bit just like you have with his all these years. "Don't say them to me if you won't ever be ready to take responsibility over them."

You place your thumb and forefinger on your forehead, squeezing the skin slightly to calm the slight ache you can feel, the vein throbbing slightly and you know it is your anxiety that kicks in because you almost spilled everything out. You quickly stand up and holding your coat tightly, you look at Hyunjin who is still seated and looking at you intently.

"I need to go to the pharmacy next door. I'll wait for you there. Finish your ice cream and come."

You don't turn to look at Hyunjin as you walk out, slightly embarrassed by your own behaviour. Between you and Hyunjin, you are the one who had to keep your cool, making sure you didn't slip up or make a mess so that you could at least have time to clean his spilt milk.

You push the door of the ice cream parlour and walk out, the doorbell ringing at your push and you hold yourself in the cold breeze. If Hyunjin did not respond to it, it is only safe to presume that he feels nothing more towards you. You could at least put two and two together. Or so you thought till Hyunjin is chasing after you, big strides and dark blond hair in the wind as his rubber band comes loose and slides off a bit.

"Y/N!" He shouts and quickly holds your wrist, pulling you so quickly that you stumble forward into him. Hyunjin grips your arms to steady you and he looks at you, his brown eyes trying to peep into your soul. He smiles, hand running through his hair only to bring more strands forward, covering his vision.

Falling in love with Hwang Hyunjin, you realise, is the easy part. He makes it so easy to fall for him — when he smiles at the sun, covering his eyes or when he is covered by the dogs in dog parks all eager to hug him because that's how he just is. You don't even realise when you fall for Hyunjin but when you do, you know you are already sinking and you are far too gone for saving.

It is, however, admitting to yourself that you fell for your best friend that is hard. The Hwang Hyunjin that you have seen since the five year old boy moved next door to you. The Hwang Hyunjin that would cross dress in your clothes. The Hwang Hyunjin that would steal your dumplings. It is the same Hwang Hyunjin that you fall for. You had all these doors with specifications that opened to only men like Lee Minho and yet like the rude asshole that you oh so adorably love he seemed to tear them down. Or perhaps those doors were meant for others and Hyunjin always had a door of his own for your heart.

You should have asked yourself why but would it have really mattered? You're here with Hyunjin by your side, whether he knows your feelings or not and you couldn't be any less glad, even if you are sometimes hiding, imagining a distance instead of seeing Hyunjin right there.

"I'll come back, Jinnie," you tell him, looking up at him and coughing slightly, trying to move back slightly to put some space between the two of you. "I'm not running away. I just need to buy some strips of paraceta—"

"I want to be responsible for them," His gaze doesn't leave yours. "I want to be responsible for you, your emotions and everything you are, if you let me."

You wouldn't dare to shift your eyes away, or focus on anything else. Just Hyunjin. Just your Hyunjin. Your heart beats so fast against your chest that you wonder if it ever had this much for any man or woman. And when Hyunjin pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around your frame, hand flat against your head that buries your face into his chest, you learn that Hwang Hyunjin's heartbeat is always your metronome — the beat your entire life seemed to have moved smoothly to.

You giggle against his chest, breaking into a smile, "Are you asking me out, Jinnie?"

"I guess," he chuckles into your hair, snuggling himself into you. He pulls you back to explain. "My original plan was to ask you out after the practice match that I'll make sure we win, but you could possibly not be there as our manager and what if I miss the chance?"

"You lovesick boy," you laugh, smiling stupidly at him. Hyunjin cups your face and presses his forehead against yours.

"I've liked you for so long, Y/N," and you blush, lips pursed and you smile back, heart fluttering.

"Thank you," you press a kiss against his cheek.

"For what?"

"For being you and for always loving me."

Hwang Hyunjin holds your face and kisses like he is capable of getting rid of all your worries, slowly bleeding into your marrows and cells and soaking you of the very essence he is. He holds you like you are a precious being — and to him, you are because he finally has you after all these years; he finally gets to call you his.

His lips are warm and tasted of mint; obviously from the mint chocolate ice cream earlier. His hands are wrapped around your waist and yours are locked around his neck pulling him down slightly. His strands of blond locks brush against your face, ticking you slightly and you giggle into the kiss. He laughs against your lips before kissing you slowly, drawing the kiss for as long as he could. When you break apart for air, you lean forward and rest your forehead against his, gathering some much needed oxygen. His smile tells you everything you need confirmation over and you smile back, sinking into his hold.

Hyunjin hugs with gentle arms that still gives the space to breathe; yet it is the hug of a strong pair of arms that tells everything that you are - every fibre of your being - that he is with you, and you wonder how he is capable of that. How he is capable of holding like you are his whole world — like he rather hold you than anything else.

Hyunjin does exactly that. He holds you tight and close to him in this cold night, ignorant of everything else around the two of you, like you and him only mattered in the place, like you and him are fireworks in this velvet dark, the blaze that dares to light up the night.

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lottiebagleywritesobx · 3 years

Text

Girls like you

THE POOL

JJ Maybank wasn't really sure why the Y/L/N family had hired him to clean out their pool when summer started. They seemed to like him around the hotel when they went for meals but he wasn't exactly qualified, he wasn't complaining though, they tip well and it couldn't be that hard.

His only problem was Y/N.

They never got on well. She was friends with Kie in her kook year, who even went as far as to dub her 'the only kook who doesn't make me want to gauge my eyes out', so she knew the pogues from around although they'd grown apart the girls shared no bad blood and always stopped to catch up when they saw each other around.

He was in the middle of raking the leaves from the large pool when he saw her. She was crossing the garden from the large mansion, clad in a bikini with sunglasses perched on the end of her nose. JJ hates how good she looks, her curves perfectly on display and a confident aura around her.

She's got headphones in, he notices as she saunters closer.

"Hi princess," He smirks, watching as she rolls her eyes

"I'm not your princess. How long are you gonna be?" She questions, settling onto one of the sun loungers next to the pool

"An hour or so," JJ states

"Well, could you do it quietly I'm hungover and I wanna just relax," She states, slipping the second headphone back into her ear before he can reply.

He cleans, unaware of her watching him from behind the glasses as she sips on her bottle of cold water. She would never tell anyone but watching him work, his muscles tensing and untensing under his vest shirt, a light sweat from the hot summer day on his skin, she couldn't help herself from thinking he looked good.

He would definitely admit to John B that he thought she looked fit. Her breasts spilling out of her bikini top a little and the barely there thong bottom's high cut making her legs look excruciatingly long. He'd probably make some crude jokes about hate sex being way more fun. He wouldn't admit though, to finding something very comforting about her presence, and finding the way she hummed along to whatever she was listening too adorable.

It's a further 40 minutes, JJ is trying to work out how to get the pool vaccuum to turn on, when her phone rings loudly.

"Hey Sare," Her voice speaks. JJ figures quickly it's Sarah Cameron, the pair are practically inseparable and the whole island knows it.

He half listens to her side of the conversation, more out of boredom than interest.

"No, babes, I love you and all but I really don't wanna. The last million times I've seen Rafe he's been so weird and creepy and I don't wanna be alone with him,"

JJ doesn't know why the comment angers him so much. Why does he even care if Rafe is clearly trying to pull her? It's none of his business. Yet, he can feel his blood boiling at the thought.

"No Sar, if I go and you have to stay with me then you can't go and be with Topper,"

She's silent for a few minutes before sighing "Fine. Fine, I'll come. See you in a minute. Bring me some shorts, I'm in the garden and can't be arsed to go upstairs and find some. You owe me forever,"

JJ wants to scream. Wants to tell her she shouldn't go if she feels uncomfortable around Kelce. He wishes Kie were here, maybe she could talk her into staying where she felt safe. Maybe she would be able to explain why JJ even gives a shit.

"Maybank," She states, he looks up, trying to act like he hasn't been listening. "I'm going out. You'll be the only one here," She informs

"Okay," He nods.

"My keys are on the kitchen counter, lock up when you're done and I'll just grab them from you at the hotel,"

"All right," He agrees

"When will you be there?" She questions, looking at him like he's an idiot. He groans internally, obviously she needed to know that.

"Tomorrow, 2 until closing,"

'"I'll swing by around 4," She informs. He nods, trying not to stare at her as she lets her hair down from the ponytail it had been in, shaking it out. A car honks outside and she turns, walking up the garden towards the side gates, turning a few metres away,

"Oh, there's an envelope on the kitchen counter with your tip in," She adds

"Thanks. Goodbye princess," He smiles,

"Still not your princess," she shouts back, turning and disappearing round the corner.

THE CAR

JJ felt a lot more in his element when her dad had called him asking if he could fix her car. He hadn't specified it was his eldest daughters, and JJ knew the family owned 7 cards despite only 3 of them even being able to drive.

JJ recognised it though, a white convertible porsche, he'd seen her driving it around before. Wether she was blasting music with the roof down singing with Sarah, picking up a take out from the wreck, driving around in the middle of the night, she'd even given Kie a lift to the Chateau before. He realised that he always seemed to notice her presence.

He was working in the family's garage, the bonnet popped open and grease all over him. It was an easy fix, if a little fiddly.

He jumped out of his skin when the door burst open. He is immediately taken aback by how good she looks. Clad in a tight black skirt that is ridiculously short, heels and a tight black V neck top with a lace trim around the neck. Her hair falls in bouncy curls around her shoulders and her makeup looks perfect. He would have sworn on everything he'd never seen anyone look so beautiful.

"You're a boy," The girl states.

"Good job noticing that one princess," JJ smirks, she rolls her eyes.

"I have a date and Sarah is being so unhelpful, can you help me pick a top?" She questions, he gulps, nodding.

"Okay, so this is option 1,"

"It looks good,"

"Right. But is it sexy? Do you look at me and think I wanna slam her against a wall and rail her?"

His eyes widen a little, that's one way of putting it he decides.

"Look, I'm your families help, I shouldn't be answering that,"

"Like I care Maybank," She groans, exasperated.

"Okay fine, I look at you in that and I think I wanna rip your clothes off,"

"Okay good. Option 2," She starts. JJ is shocked when she pulls her top off in front of him, without even turning around. He turns around, although not without taking a mental picture of her boobs being pushed up in a red lace bra. "Who knew you were a prude?"

"Just respecting you princess," He comments

"You've seen me in a bikini, what's the difference?" She questions, he stays silent having no quick comment to respond with. "I'm dressed," She states

He turns back around, she looks good, a forest green top made of satin.

"The first one is sexy, that one is cute,"

"Thanks JJ, oh, and hey, thanks for fixing my car,"

"Uh. Yeah, anytime,"

THE SUMMER HOUSE

JJ was happy to paint the summer house. He claimed to his friends it was just because they way over paid and tipped big. In reality it was because for three days straight he would get to catch glimpses of her. And he did.

He saw her when she swam in her pool.

He saw her when she played in the garden with her little sister.

He saw her when she cloud gazed with Sarah Cameron.

The best times he got to see her though, were when she would bring him stuff. Every so often she'd knock on the open door to the summer house, sometimes with water, sometimes with snacks, a few times even with a beer. A couple of times she stopped and made small talk, one time she even smeared paint on his cheek and giggled as he chased her through the garden.

He enters the kitchen, used to how the family worked now. An envelope of money waiting on the kitchen counter, they always seemed to be coming and going so it was easier.

He was shocked to see her in the kitchen, she's scrolling on her phone sipping on what looks to be an iced coffee

"Oh, hey JJ," She smiles

"Hey, I'm done," he informs, she nods, watching as he picks up the envelope "So, I'll be seeing you around,"

"Did you want a lift?" She questions, he looks at her slightly confused "I just noticed your bike wasn't here and it's kinda late to be walking back. It's a long walk,"

"You really don't have to princess,"

"Honestly, it's fine," she assures, jumping up and grabbing her keys before heading towards the garage.

She wasn't sure when she stopped hating JJ Maybank, wasn't sure when she started noticing little things like the blue in his eyes and which snapback he was wearing and how tired he looked. She wasn't sure when the sight of his bike in the driveway started giving her butterflies.

"So where is your bike?" She questions, the roof of the car is down and the wind blowing through her hair as she pulls out of the private estate her home is on.

"Didn't have enough fuel to get to yours and back," He shrugs

"Why didn't you just-" She cuts herself off "Shit, I'm so sorry. That was insanely rude, I wasn't even thinking and-" He chuckles, watching as she splutters and blushes

"It's okay. Life is different on the cut I can understand how a kook princess wouldn't get it," He shrugs, she nods, still not sure what to say.

"Y'know my life isn't perfect," She comments, he scoffs, unable to help himself. "I'm not kidding. It's privileged as fuck, I know that, but it's not perfect,"

"Go on then princess, what's so shit?" He doesn't mean for it to sound so harsh, he's genuinely curious

"My parents, they have basically planned my entire life, down to where I'll go to college, what sorority I'll be in, where I'll work my summer internship, who I'll marry, where I'll get married, which big kook house I'll live in, at what age I'll have to give up my career, which has been decided for me by them, to start trying for babies. It's 24 by the way so in 8 years. My whole life is decided and I don't want it. I wanna go on a trip around the world and surf and travel and explore. I wanna fall in love and get my heartbroken again and again until I find the right guy. I wanna live in a New York apartment and I wanna see the world. I don't wanna marry Rafe Cameron just cause our mothers are friends. I mean he's literally scary and harasses me and acts like even though I'm 16 I shouldn't have a choice cause one day he'll father my kids. And no one gets it, none of my friends, not even my best friend. The only person who ever understood why it was so shit was Kie and then she left, she left and lives her life and it's fun and exciting and anything could happen. I don't hate her for it but it fucking sucks that she left me miserable. I'll be miserable living my planned out life and then I'll die. Yeah, I have money and that's fucking great, but my life is far from perfect,"

JJ sits in a stunned silence. He's not really sure what to say. Their problems were very different but hers were just as shitty. He feels like he's seeing her in a whole new light.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't tell people that and we barely no each other," She mutters, not wanting to look at him

"Where would you go first?" His question surprised her

"On my fictitious surf trip?" She questions, he nods "Europe, Spain I think,"

They sit in silence the rest of the way, it's not awkward though, both of them feel comforted by each other presence. He gives her instructions to the chateau.

"We are probably gonna drink some beers and smoke. You wanna stay? You could crash here and drive home in the morning," JJ offers

"I can't. My family are having dinner at the hotel. Thanks though," She smiles gently

"Yeah. Uh, I hope it's not too shit. Thanks for the ride princess,"

He climbs out of the car, his friends who sit on the porch immediately calling out to him, they're all laughing and teasing him about his lift home and when he looks back he almost thinks he sees a look of longing in her eyes before she's reversing out of the chateau.

THE BOAT

"Can you fix it?" She questions. JJ Maybank has never seen her look nervous before.

It was only 6:30 AM when she'd started banging on the door to the Chateau, tears in her eyes and panic on her face hoping JJ would be here. John B had pulled the door open, half asleep and groaning a little at the bright sunlight. He'd let her into the small home and disappeared to wake JJ up. John B opted not to put too much thought into the way the minute her name was said JJ leaped out of bed and shoved into the living area, the way his hands cupped her cheeks to see if she was okay, the way he was calling her princess as he tried to calm down her hiccuping tears.

"I can fix it," He confirms. They're standing on the deck of her families boat "It's an easy fix princess, okay? don't even worry," He speaks in a comforting tone

"Thank you JJ,"

"No worries. It'll take me a while, you got anywhere to be?"

"No. Well yes, a breakfast thing with the Cameron's but it's at my house and I can't exactly show up without the boat so,"

"So you're hiding out here all day?" JJ questions

"Well, I don't wanna intrude. I can go and hang out at the beach,"

"Don't talk nonsense, you can hang here. C'mon, I need to be down the bottom with the engine, you can sit and entertain me,"

She watches intently as he works, now that he's not working at her house he hasn't bothered with a shirt, instead just wearing shorts and his infamous red baseball cap. He glances at her occasionally, her makeup streaky from crying and wearing a short white dress.

"So, wanna tell me what happened?" He questions

"Not really," She admits, he nods and she sighs before beginning to explain"Rafe wanted to go boating late and then it all went wrong and then we got the boat to the nearest dock, hence why we are in the middle of nowhere, and he said he was going to call someone to get a lift and it was rainy so I was waiting in here. It had been a while so I went outside to check on him and he was gone. I didn't know what to do. Dad would kill me for breaking the boat, do I just kinda figured I'd walk to yours and hopefully you would no how to fix it. Then I realised I have no clue where you live so I walked to John B's and hoped for the best,"

"He just left you in the middle of nowhere alone?" JJ doesn't know why he's so mad, they were hardly even friends

"Yeah. He texted me to let me know it was cause he's already in shit with his dad and didn't wanna go down for breaking my family's boat," She shrugs, JJ wants to go and find Rafe Cameron and beat his skull in.

"Look, a girl like you deserves someone who would treat them a million times better than that,"

"I always thought you hated me," She admits

"So did I, until this summer I kinda did," He shrugs

"What changed?" She asks, the question is so vulnerable he can't help himself from looking at her

"You aren't what I thought you'd be," He admits, she nods slowly

"How should a girl like me be treated?" She questions

"Like they're the only thing on earth," He's not really sure why he's so openly telling her how he feels but it feels too late now

"Is that how you'd treat me Maybank?"

"Girls like you don't date boys like me," He shrugs, turning quickly back to what he's doing, not wanting her to recognise the disappointment on his face.

THE PARTY

It was no secret her family hosted a big formal party on the 10th of July every year, her parents wedding anniversary. JJ had waited the party the last 2 years and this summer was no different, he'd even managed to get John B and Pope a job too.

His heart had stopped when he saw her, her dress was the exact shade of blue as the sky and flowed beautifully down to her feet, her hair curled with the front pinned back, her makeup beautiful. She looked like an angel approaching him and god why did she have to look so perfect.

"Hey JJ," She smiles, grabbing a glass of champagne from the tray he's holding "Could you do me a favour?"

"Of course," He agrees, expecting some job that needed doing for the party

"If you see Rafe and I'm on my own..." She trails off "I'm trying to avoid him, after the other day,"

It's three hours into the party when JJ grabs her hand, pulling her along behind him and away from Rafe who is clearly trying to catch her alone. He pulls her into a small cupboard slamming the door closed behind him and locking it.

"What was that about?"

"Rafe," He shrugs, he didn't outwardly say he'd been watching her all night to make sure he could look out for her. He also didn't say he would have been watching her all night even if she hadn't asked him too.

"JJ, you know how your coming over next week to fix that one door that you can't open from inside the cupboard?" She question

"Yeah," He states, peering out of the key hole to see if Rafe is still looking for her

"Well, this is the cupboard,"

"Shit!" He shouts, pulling away from the door to face her. "Shit, it's your parents wedding anniversary and I got you locked in the cupboard,"

"It's alright," She shrugs "They hate each other most the time anyway,"

"Call someone to let you out,"

"Where on this dress did you think there was pockets, you call someone,"

"My phone is in the twinkie,"

"The what?"

"John B's car," JJ sighs. "Fuck princess, I'm so sorry," He groans

"It's fine. Sarah will come looking for me eventually," She shrugs. He nods, watching as she sits down on the ground, patting the space next to her.

He obliges, sitting next to her, knees touching in the tight space.

"You look nice tonight, I like the shirt and tie," She compliments, he can feel himself blush and is glad the cupboard is dark enough she probably can't see it.

"Y'know what you said on the boat the other day?" She questions, he immediately knows what she's referring too "About how girls like me don't date boys like you,"

"Yeah," He confirms

"Why is that?" She questions quietly

"I couldn't make you happy princess. Your parents would hate me. I couldn't take you on the fancy dates you're used to. You wouldn't be happy,"

"My parents love you, they think you're resourceful and hard working. I hate the stuffy dates figure 8 boys take me on," She informs, he laughs a little at that. "Besides, you already make me happy. I'm just saying Maybank, if you don't wanna date me just say it, don't try and put it on me,"

JJ isn't really sure how to react. How to explain he desperately wanted to date her, wanted her to be his girl and wanted to shower her in love and adoration. He isn't sure how to tell her that by inadvertently telling him she wanted to date him she had made him the happiest man on earth. He's not really great with words and it all feels too hard to say.

So, instead, he turns slightly, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to him, his lips crashing against hers and somehow she knows everything he wanted to say.

#jj maybank x reader #jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x kook!reader #obx fic

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etherealluminescence · 3 years

Note

op, p l e a s e do this one.

gn-mc is a great fighter according to their profile, but everyone severely underestimates them, since they’re kinda short and they’re thinking it’s to human standards. as soon as they come though the three (Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer) realise that the number of fights have gone down, and that RAD is a lot more quiet. Apparently mc had fought all the trouble makers or scary students on a whim, and has forced like 30+ scary demons into pacts, and plans to conquer RAD’s bad students. on top of that, they’re just like “one day i’ll beat the shit out of diavolo too fair and square, and conquer him as well.” for the brothers and undateables. bonus if mc said they only started their “conquest” because someone tried to bully Luke, so they decided to just conquer the demons for him like a good? older sibling

Holy shit OP this is what I signed up for when I started doing headcanons. Recently I’ve been working on my actual novel but I am still writing these out! I decided to answer this first because the creativity just HIT me.

The part that killed me is just how they did it for luke, I love him like my own son. Also side note the goth theme on tumblr hits different I really like. WARNING - a little bit of language, and violence.

Everyone reacting to GN!MC “conquering” RAD’s demons

Lucifer

He had chosen you and noticed your profile, thinking that is was almost cute humans would consider a tiny thing like you strong.

He immediately brushed you off when he saw how close you were to the chihuahua, thinking that you too, are just like a tiny chihuahua then.

But he soon hears less and less about fights going around, and even Diavolo investigates with him, and he is beyond shocked. He severely underestimated you.

He finds out because he forced some lesser demons to talk, and they were in tears saying you forced them to make a pact with you each time they lose, and by your order they weren’t allowed to fight students anymore, or else you’d punish them.

Although it was the truth he didn’t quite believe it, so they followed you around for a day before realising it absolutely was, you kicked ass so hard, the demon was crying and unrecognisable, and you forced him into a pact while snot was even coming out his nose.

He then sees you open the door behind you and take Luke’s hand before walking away from the bloody scene you had just caused. He was slightly angry and a bit intimidated, how did you, a tiny human do that?

When he confronted you about it, you just held onto his shoulders tightly, answering with “I’ll conquer you too, I’ll conquer Diavolo, I’ll conquer all of RAD, fucker. I am going to protect this child with my life.”

He was about to argue back, possibly attack you, but according to all the students investigated, you had well over 50 pact marks by now, and Diavolo found it amusing, so you were let off with that.

He swears he won’t submit to you, and has to stay on high defense because even at the HOL you will try to attack him with murderous intent to get the pact. 0/10, wants a new exchange students.

Mammon

He was the first one you made a pact with, and afterwards he started following you around like a dog, despite literally calling Luke a dog.

He knew you were a good fighter since you kept saying so, but he kept telling you demons were another level, and you should be glad to have him.

You and Luke hung around a lot, while Mammon thirdwheeled, and finally came the day of your first fight. Mammon was ready to defend you, but you ordered him to sit as you beat the literal fuck out of the demon.

Mammon couldn’t tell if that was a lesser demon or a dismembered corpse at that point, and covered Luke due to all of their screaming in agony. When you were done, you kicked their head into a wall and demanded a pact, making him slightly pouty but happy he’s alive:

Getting the pact, you left and gave a head pat to both Luke and Mammon, telling them that they’re safe with you. Mammon didn’t like it at first but then he loved it.

It didn’t take Lucifer long to find out, and when you told him with such confidence that you’d “conquer all of RAD, including Diavolo” he was like woah!! You’re going to die for that, but you’re amazing!!

And then you didn’t die, because Diavolo found it funny, and you were only serving justice to those who cause mayhem at the moment, so it was fine. He also accidentally finds out that you rival Lucifer in power, and absolutely won’t let Lucifer punish him, because in your words, “Mammon is my property now, whore.”

You were the only person to protect him, and he absolutely loves you, he may be weaker than you, but he loves staying by your side and saying he’d beat people up for you anyways.

Leviathan

Levi never really talked to you at first, nor found out about the incidents because he didn’t go to school, but when he heard Mammon talking about it he thought he was exaggerating a lot.

Even Lucifer said you were strong, but he refused to believe it at first, even denying the pact marks you had. Until you beat the life out of Levi during the TSL games.

He got angry at you and tried to kill you, so you ripped him apart, quite aggressively. He swore his tail had bite marks in them, and that he couldn’t see out of his left eye for a week. The icing on top was you demanding a pact from him. He finally believed.

After you calmed, he made a pact with you, and was now afraid of you, until you comforted and apologized to him, telling him he did try to kill you first.

When Luke comes over one day, you invite him into Levi’s room, no permission, and start to talk, and when Levi tries to make fun of him, Mammon shuts his mouth.

“Luke is the whole reason they decided to start their conquest, the whole school knows that by now!” Mammon shushed him, and Levi began feeling a little jealous that the chihuahua got more of your attention than him. But when he hears that you ALSO want to conquer Diavolo, he’s just like !?!!??? You’re crazy.

But more than that you’re like some over powered anime protagonist who got sucked into a different world with over powered plot armor, Levi thought, and he really liked it.

Begs you to come with him when he’s trying to buy stuff in lines, so anyone who tries to cut gets the life beat out of them when they do.

Satan

Absolutely member #2 of your fan boy club, Diavolo being the first one in it.

He thinks oh yeah, you can fight sure. But when he witnesses it he absolutely loses his mind. A human shouldn’t be that strong, but the way you force a pact mark from them, and even defended the tiny chihuahua before leaving, while being tiny yourself, he was interested in how your body worked.

But what really excited him and made him like you is when Lucifer entered the room and you sent a flying kick to him, putting up a harsh fight as well, before you break the table when you were knocked into it, calling it a tie.

“I swear one day I’ll conquer you and force you to make a pact with me. I’ll wipe that smug look off your face, fucker. And once I do that, I’ll beat the shit out of your prince, too.” You spat, getting up and holding your back.

So now you went from protecting the chihuahua to devildom domination? Basically asks you to make a pact with him so you can use him to fight Lucifer. When you tell him you want a fair fight, and that you’ll beat Lucifer yourself, he’s just so excited because you held your own for five minutes, and Lucifer can’t even kill you!

Literally tags along each time you decided to fight Lucifer and cheers you on so hard. Will purposely try to make you and Lucifer run into each other at the halls, so you automatically try to hurt him.

Please tell him not to eat so much popcorn, we know the show is good but it’s like he has boxes of them now knowing you’re hating? on Lucifer like him.

Asmodeous

Has absolutely freaked out and began cowering in a corner, shaking, begging you anywhere but the face.

He came to watch the show of you beating up a demon, not realizing it was you at first. When he did, he was so shocked and got closer to make sure.

You mistook him for the demon’s crew who made fun of look and tried to attack, seeing red. He held his own for a minute, before you almost rip off his wing in one swing.

He’s begging for forgiveness like the demons, despite not doing anything wrong at all. When you calm and realize it’s just human, you make the other demons unrecognizable and get your pacts, before making your way to him.

He’s just crying not his face, while you just say “Pact mark.” Pointing out you won fair and square against him, too.

He gives it too you beyond willingly, just not his face, he doesn’t even think twice. Nodding, you take Luke’s hand and leave.

He has to leave too for then next class, but then sees Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos confront you.

Is afraid for you but then you literally punch Lucifer and tell him you’ll conquer him, and then turn to Diavolo and declare his ass as your own, making Asmo secretly swoon but worried.

Actively tried to avoid you while at the HOL for awhile, but noticing your docile nature when you’re not fighting, he felt a little comfortable with you, and right now his only concern is how many callouses your hands are getting from punching thick skulls.

Beelzebub

This man wanted to believe you when you said you were a strong fighter in passing conversation with him, but he just couldn’t. You were the tiniest creature he’d ever seen, and he was so sure you’d crush under one of his hugs.

He heard you were protecting Luke from the whispers of lesser demons, but he didn’t think it was through fighting.

This all changes when on his way to practice, he watches you beat up one of his teammates so hard they’re crying, they’re so huge, and yet lost to you, and the fact you sent him flying and cracked a wall, by one kick.

When you said you wanted a pact mark, he was shocked the rumors were true. On top of that, Luke was near by holding a cake he planned to give Beel as thanks for something he did for him earlier that week.

He watched you wipe the blood off your hand and pat Luke’s head, with a gentle smile. When he came in, Luke ran to him and gave him the cake, and he learned everything.

You were the one subduing the demons around here, big or small, and even protected Luke. He even learned that you challenge three totally strong demons, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Diavolo.

He totally believed you could do it now, with what he just witnessed. He’s seen his fair share of fights with egotistical demons thinking they’re so tough just because they play sports, and he’s seen guys at the gym, you were beyond that.

You had speed, strength, and great perception. Wasn’t even mad that practice was delayed, and began going to the gym with you, and will happily play with Luke too, another older sibling figure for Luke.

Belphegor

When he exited the attic and tried to kill you he watch his brothers grab popcorn from the sidelines, as they said to him enjoy dying.

He was confused at first, but then got the LIVING HELL beat out of him, oh how the turns have tabled. He intended to murder you, but you nearly killed him.

You forced a pact out of him as well, kicking him repeatedly where the sun doesn’t shine until he agreed, understanding why even Lucifer stood back. It’s not because they wanted you dead, it’s because they couldn’t stop you.

When he gains consciousness later, he finds out Lucifer is the only brother you haven’t made a pact with, and that you have over 80 pacts at this rate, and that you even planned to conquer Diavolo.

He thought it was stupid at first but after seeing you fight Lucifer, with no cheats just your normal hands for combat, while Lucifer was in demon form struggling, he understood he really liked you.

“Soooo... when are you beating the shit out of Diavolo?” He asks, and he also nearly makes the mistake of calling Luke a dog before Beel puts a hand over his mouth.

Jaw nearly drops and he loses his mind when he finds out you only started beating the shit out of people to make Luke happy.

Diavolo

This man just fucking cackles, like after watching you fight, he’s just in full tears from laughing. He’s just clapping, and telling you that’s amazing.

When Lucifer asked why you did it, you stood tall despite your short stature, and looked him in the eye with no fear. “I’ll beat each fucker who approached Luke, I’m going to defend him with all my fists got, and if you get in my way, I’ll do the same to you.” You said, before turning to Diavolo.

You walked up to him, and pulled his tie down so he could meet your eyes, and declared, “I’ll even beat the shit out of and conquer you too, one day, prince. I’ll be the ruler of this place one day. Prepare yourself for that day, until then, I won’t stop:”

This makes him laugh, not belittling you, but telling you he can’t wait, and he hopes that day comes soon, because he wants to fight you as well, and he hopes you hold nothing back against him.

He loves how strong you are, he loves how you want to protect Luke, he loves that you only did it to protect, and didn’t even bother to summon a demon, you did it with your own style. That took guts, confidence, and the fact you told him of all people with that confidence you would one day conquer him, his heart fluttered.

He would definitely start watching over you, and probably fan boy over you. The first person to ever force the prince of the Devildom to lower himself; and they even declared they would be the one to make him their’s, by forming a pact mark. It was honestly amazing to him, and he likes it.

Barbatos

He really should of seen this coming, a new fighting student, who was clinging to Luke protectively, and suddenly all the bad demons were being silenced.

Guess there’s no need for his torture chamber anymore, you’re much more feral than whatever he does, he just needs to sick you on them.

Joking aside, he doesn’t really take it too seriously. It’s great you can get a lot of pacts, and defend yourself, and even want to conquer Diavolo by forcing him to give you a pact mark, but he knows you’re still no match for him yet.

To get to Diavolo, you’d need to beat him up, and he’s a bit of a harder fight than Lucifer, by that he means a lot, he won’t even flinch if you bite his tail when he grabs you by it and puts you out the room, with a smile on his face.

It’s become a game at this point for the both of you to try and fight each other, you trying hard to get a pact mark out of him. He even offered it to you at one point, but you told him you wanted to win it fair and square, and he’s just in love with you even more because of that.

He’s pretty much a dad to Luke, so he appreciates how kind you are to him, and appreciates how you have your own set of morals for fighting, making him know that if Diavolo were to ever make a pact mark with you, it would all be fine.

Solomon

“Hey... are you sure you’re not actually the demon?” Solomon asks you, looking at the sheer amount of pact marks on your body, one week after coming to the devildom.

He’s seriously impressed by you, considering how easily you beat up demons without any weapons, magic, or underhanded tactics. You simply use your fists and legs, sometimes your head, but you get the job done scarily.

He’s even more impressed when he finds out the reason, you were visiting purgatory hall and Luke was being rather loud. “I can’t believe that’s the 7th demon this week that fought with you! You’re just so cool, you’re so strong! Thank you for protecting me!”

Probably wants to try to enhance your strength with a potion, and offers it to you when you try to have your epic showdown with Diavolo, claiming he is the boss and Barbatos and Lucifer were his right hand men who dragged Luke into this mess.

You decline though, wanting it to be fair and square. Truly admires yet fears you. But then again, i don’t think you stabbing him would making him afraid of you. I don’t think this man can feel it at all, unless it was you dying.

Anyways, he’s delighted to ask the demons you make pacts with to make pacts with him as well.

Simeon

Nearly loses his mind at first. He’s so concerned if you’re hurt,, but then he’s just like wait what.

Luke had told Simeon all about it when he reached purgatory hall, about how you beat up a demon for him, and even promised to always protect him. Simeon is really distraught you may of been hurt protecting Luke while he was busy.

But then Luke tells him about how you forced a pact mark out of the demon, and you didn’t even break a sweat, and that is was the coolest.

He doesn’t tell Diavolo about this thinking it was just a one time thing, and tries to watch over you two more. But then he sees you and he’s literally just frozen.

Humans aren’t that powerful right? And when Lucifer Diavolo finally confronts you about it, he watches as you just stare him down and declare that you’re going to conquer him as well, to make Luke feel happy and safe in devildom.

Needless to say Simeon is extremely panicked about your well-being, but extremely happy Luke is protected by someone so kind to him. Probably doesn’t approve of the violence, but Luke adores you.

Luke

The first time you met him you told him not to worry about the demons, because if they ever bullied him you would beat the life out of them.

He thought you were just saying that, and he said that he too would protect you, which you found extremely adorable and nearly went “I’m taking this kid home with me and he’s my child now.” not that anyone could physically stop you.

He found out you were actually sincere about it when the two of you were alone in RAD’s hallway, trying to leave for purgatory hall since he invited you over.

You two were stopped by a demon, who tried picking a fight on easy prey, and it was quite frankly, the worst mistake of his life, ever.

You beat the LIVING SHIT out of him, and even told Luke to look away, because this man was beyond recognisable, because you were so small you could easily duck and move fast, so the demon didn’t even land one hit on you.

Just because he’s a demon, doesn’t mean his stamina is forever you figured, and beat him up, forcing him to make a pact with you. You had one with Mammon already, so you knew how it worked, especially knew you could have multiple due to Solomon.

When it was over, you told Luke he could look, and there was zero damage to you and he was just like woah!! You’re so cool! And from then on you stuck close to him, literally demolishing any demon he thought looked scary, or just stared at him for too long.

When Diavolo comforted you about it, you stared him dead in the eyes saying “I would literally beat the shit out of you for Luke, so you better hope he starts liking the devildom soon, fucker.”

Diavolo laughed and Luke insisted you didn’t have to go that far, but you just patted his head and said it was okay.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me hc #obey me headcanons #obey me headcanon #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me Satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me Simeon #obey me Luke

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ginnyweasleymybeloved · 3 years

Text

summer breezes / george weasley

hi crew :) idk why i wrote this but i was in a george mood so here we go ;)

summary: george acts like he hates you, he doesn’t really hate you. you act like you hate him, but you don’t really hate him. chaos ensues.

slight neville x reader for a second

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, george being mean, lil angsty, fluffy at the end, reader’s house is not specified <3, mentions of food, kissing

let me know what you think ;)

“And what do you expect me to do? By the time I’d even realised I was falling I’d already landed face first on the proverbial concrete,” you groaned out in exasperation, while your best friend looked at you with so much distaste that anyone would’ve thought you’d murdered his family pet.

He shook his head, a scowl as clear as day splashed across his lips as he reprimanded you for your heart’s foolishness, “Of all people…” he scoffed in disgust, “Honestly, Y/n.”

“You know, you shouting at me isn’t going to fix anything,” he rolled his eyes at your statement and racked his eyes over your disheveled state. You’d obviously been battling with yourself over your—unfortunate—crush for some time. As your best friend, Ron Weasley knew he’d have to soften up on you eventually, but honestly, it was your own fault for falling for one of his disastrous siblings.

You were currently sprawled out on Harry’s bed, across from the red-headed boy you’d known since you were in nappies, your arms hanging off the edges of Harry’s four-poster. Neither you or Ron had a clue where Harry, or Hermione, had disappeared off to today. Harry was probably on the quidditch pitch practicing while Hermione haunted the library, you supposed as you listened to Ron’s rantings, wishing they’d been there to mediate.

“—of all of my siblings too! You couldn’t have picked, oh I don’t know, Charlie? Or Fred even? Merlin, even Ginny! But no! You just had to go and bloody fall for the only Weasley who actively cannot stand you.” You only caught that portion of his rave, having gotten lost in the idea of being coddled sympathetically by Harry or Hermione. You adore Ron, really, he’s your loyalist and longest friend, but Merlin was he a total drama queen.

“Charlie is five years older than me, Fred is my wingman and honestly, I snogged him on a dare last summer and I wasn’t that impressed and in case you’ve forgotten, Ronald, Ginny is dating Harry,” you lectured, ignoring how he rolled his eyes as you continued, “Also I’m well aware that he hates me. You don’t need to keep reminding me.”

His composure cracked after hearing your depressed mumble, and with a sigh he moved from his spot on his own bed and made the short trip over to Harry’s. Ron gently pulled you into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress and sat himself down next to you. He let out a heavy sigh, still slightly shaking his head—he couldn’t seem to stop—, then he dropped a heavy arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, finally offering you the comfort you’d been seeking out in the first place.

“S’alright, Y/n. Maybe he’ll get hit in the head with a bludger and forget he’s hated you since he was four.” Ron encouraged, very weakly.

You released a sigh of your own at that, “I feel like I’m betraying myself here. Like I’m letting that stupid git win.” Ron couldn’t stop the laugh he let out at your grumble.

“I’ll be honest, I thought he’d be the first to crack. You can be quite scary when you get going.” Ron divulged, shuddering at the memories of when he’d been on the receiving end of your rath.

Your family and the Weasley family had been extremely close since before you or Ron were even born, which meant you’d grown up alongside all of the Weasley children. Of course, because of your ages you and Ron had been attached at the hip as infants and remained that way even now, late into your fifth year of Hogwarts. Most of the Weasley children simply adored you, as you did them. However, there was one boy who, for whatever reason, hated you to your very core and as far as you could remember; he always had.

He is none other than the younger of the two twins; George Weasley. Despite the fact that Fred was actually quite fond of you, his twin refused to warm up to you in any way, shape or form. No, the tall and annoyingly attractive boy had made it his life’s mission not to get along with you, but instead, wage a war on you that spanned for the entirety of your childhood and adolescence.

“When did things change? When did it stop being a challenge? When did it start affecting me like this? I used to take his insults like a champ! I used to get him back worse!” You wondered out loud, letting your head flop onto Ron’s broad shoulder as he let out a puff of air through his nose.

“You still take it like a champ, numpty,” he chastised you gently, recoiling ever so slightly when you lurched forward in complete defeat. Your hands shot up to cover your face as you rested your forehead against your knees.

“No! I don’t,” you murmured dejectly, lifting your face from your hands to make eye contact with Ron. “Do you remember the other night in the Great Hall? When Neville told me he thought my hair looked pretty? And George, out of bloody nowhere, comes over and says and I quote, ‘I wouldn’t waste your time on this one, Longbottom. You’d have a better time kissing that toad of yours.’ Do you remember that?” Ron raised an eyebrow and nodded in confusion, your voice seemed to be steadily rising in octaves as you recalled the events of the other night. He had to admit, it had been an unusually unnecessary comment on George’s part, but the youngest Weasley boy wasn’t really sure where you were going with it.

“Well do you remember how I had said, ‘how’s that girlfriend of yours, Georgie? Figured out a way to make her stop being invisible yet?’ and then remember I rushed off? Do you wanna know where I rushed off to?” You pressed, watching intently as Ron nodded his head, unsure if he even wanted to know. “I went to the bathroom and I cried! I cried, Ron! Over something George bloody Weasley said to me!”

His eyes widened at that. Never once had George ever managed to properly upset you.

“And over something as small as that? I’ve heard him say a lot worse to your face.” Ron said in disbelief and you nodded, expression mimicking his as if you couldn’t believe it yourself.

“Right? And it’s like everytime he says something mean to me now my stomach drops and it actually hurts,” Ron regarded you softly, his eyes sad while he rubbed your back as you buried your face in your hands yet again, “Do you know what’s worse though?”

Ron opened his mouth to hazard a guess but no sound escaped as he drew nothing but blanks.

��I actually care what he thinks of me now. As if I actually value his idiotic opinions of me.”

It was at that moment that Harry entered the room sporting muddy quidditch gear and a confused expression, “May I ask why we’re having a heart to heart on my bed?”

Ron shrugged, continuing to rub soothing circles into your back as he told Harry mournfully, “Y/n likes George.”

“Merlin.” Harry whispered, as horrified to learn of your crush as Ron had been. “But, Y/n, he hates you! I mean he really hates you-“ the chosen one was cut off by a pillow making contact with his face. Ron had chucked it at him the second he felt your form begin to shake beneath his touch.

“Bloody hell, Harry! You’ve gone and upset her even more!” He whispered harshly. Harry quickly set his broom down and plopped himself down beside you, leaving you trapped between himself and Ron. The green-eyed boy rested his cheek against your lightly shaking back and managed to snake his arms around your torso.

“Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.” He told you genuinely. “Should we go and find Hermione?”

You only shook your head. Embarrassment quickly overtook you as you realised your were crying in front of your two best friends over George fucking Weasley.

“No. No, I’m okay. It’s fine,” you sat up and hastily wiped your tears away.

“It’s okay to be upset, Y/n,” Harry spoke softly, squeezing your middle in a short hug, getting mud from his quidditch practice all over you.

With a resolute shake of your head you stood up and faced the boys, who each looked at you with pity filled eyes, then you spoke as steadily as you could, “I’m not upset. He hasn’t upset me,” you weren’t fooling anyone, really. Your eyes were bloodshot, your cheeks and nose were red and your voice was slightly hoarse when you spoke. The boys entertained you anyway, nodding in agreement.

“I’m telling you this as his brother and your best mate; you can do better.” Ron told you honestly, he wasn’t lying either, you were the type of girl who could get any boy she wanted without lifting a finger. Well, not any boy—obviously— but that wasn’t anything to do with you. Ron had his suspicions in regards to why his brother acted like such a knob towards you, however he’d been thrown off his scent recently when the older ginger stopped being mean to you teasingly in favour of being just plain mean.

You gave Ron the best smile you could muster at his words, “You are absolutely right, Ronald.”

Harry snorted before making his way over to Ron’s trunk, he rifled through it for a few seconds before pulling out one of Ron’s jumpers. He casually tossed, what you recognised to be Ron’s Christmas jumper from Molly, over to you with a grin, “Put that on. I got muck all over you.”

You had plenty of your own Christmas jumpers made by Molly Weasley but they were all the way over in your own dorm. Besides, you liked stealing the ones made for the boys as they were usually far too big for you which made them extremely comfortable to wear.

So you happily pulled the maroon jumper over your head, the wool effectively covering your dirtied t-shirt.

“Oh yes, by all means, you two just work away.” Ron grunted sarcastically. In all honesty, he didn’t care if you stole every piece of fabric he owned, if it made you feel better, he couldn’t care less.

“Right,” you said, making your way to the door of the dorm room, “I think I’ll go for a walk before the sunsets, calm myself down a bit.”

The boys nodded, “See you at dinner?” Ron asked and you gave him a smile and a small nod of confirmation before you set off out of the Gryffindor common room.

Thankfully, you didn’t run into George on your way out. You walked peacefully through the gardens and behind the greenhouses, it was around five in the evening and the sun was beginning to stoop low behind the tree line. The days were beginning to take on a chill as October approached quickly, you’d gone out without grabbing a jacket and you couldn’t deny that you were beginning to feel the cold nipping at your skin despite Ron’s jumper. Pulling the sleeves further down your wrists you carried on, trudging forward through the fallen leaves of the garden, you weren’t ready to go back inside yet. Going back to the castle meant you’d have to look your problem in the face, literally. You settled on the fact that you’d rather endure the physical cold rather than the emotional coldness you were sure to receive from George at dinner.

When you’d reached the back of the third greenhouse you could faintly hear someone humming to themselves and a soft smile found your lips when you saw who it was. Neville sat on a chair in the greenhouse, right by a plant that you hadn’t a clue what it was called, seemingly humming the little tune for the plant in question. Despite his undeniable clumsiness, there was something about Neville Longbottom that soothed you greatly. He has a good soul and his heart is usually in the right place, even if his head is sometimes screwed on slightly loose.

Gently, trying not to startle him you knocked on the closed door of the greenhouse before you opened it and walked in, “Hi, Neville. Mind if I join you?”

Neville blushed slightly but nodded his head, “Course! There’s a spare chair just there,” he pointed nervously to the chair. Once you settled yourself beside him, he let himself relax slightly.

“What sort of plant is this?” You asked him curiously. You really liked plants but you weren’t the best at keeping them alive, Neville though, seemed to be something of a green thumb.

He beamed at your question and quickly began to explain everything about the plant before you. You didn’t absorb a lot of it but listening to Neville speak so freely, something he rarely got to do amidst the other Gryffindor boys, filled you with a sense of serenity. Between his voice and the light wind that blew against the glass building, you’d completely forgotten about your red-headed problem.

“—sorry, I’m probably boring you. My nan says I have a tendency to ramble.” He cut himself off, cheeks heating up as he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.

With a small giggle you only shook your head at the brown haired boy, “You’re not boring me at all! I quite like listening to you speak,” you admitted although you felt a bit silly after saying it out loud. Neville seemed to grow even more flustered after the words left your lips.

His eyes searched your face for any sign that you were teasing him, but all he saw was your kind eyes and comforting smile. Not exactly sure about what to say to you, Neville made an observation, “You’re cold.”

You gave him a nonchalant shrug, “I’m okay.”

Completely unsatisfied with your answer, Neville shook his head in protest and shrugged off his jacket. He was used to spending a lot of time in the garden so he was usually sporting far more layers than necessary, just in case. “Here, wear this. You’ll catch a cold otherwise,” he fretted and you didn’t have the heart to turn his offer down, you didn’t want to turn it down either, you were absolutely freezing. Gratefully you accepted the jacket and wasted no time in pulling it on.

“Thank you, Neville,” he looked you over for a moment, you could tell he was debating with himself on whether or not to speak, after a long few seconds of his eyes running over you he spoke.

“You look nice- I, uh, the jacket. You look nice in the jacket- I mean, the jacket looks nice on you-“ another giggle left your lips and effectively put the boy’s fumbled ramble to an end.

“Again, thank you, Neville. You are unbelievably kind.” You told him sincerely, quite enjoying the blush that adorned his cheeks.

“We should probably head back to the castle for dinner now. It’s gotten dark,” Neville said, standing up after giving his plant a loving pat.

The walk back to the castle with Neville was nice. The pair of you chatted idly about school subjects and house drama, but you had to admit, you weren’t paying a huge amount of attention to the conversation.

“Thanks again for lending me your jacket,” you said sweetly, shrugging the jacket off as you reached the main hall of the castle.

Neville, who seemed to be in a perpetual state of bashfulness, took the jacket back gently, a rosy blush painting his features, “It was no problem, really.”

Neville had always been incredibly kindhearted, sometimes to his own detriment. He treated people with respect and never turned anyone away if they needed help with anything at all. He is sweet, honest, loyal and, whether you liked him or not, he is indisputably adorable. And you found yourself thinking about how entirely better your life would be if your heart had chosen Neville to have a romantic fondness towards.

After separating from Neville, you made your way towards the Great Hall. On your way you bumped into Fred Weasley, who surprisingly, wasn’t accompanied by his twin. He greeted you with a wide smile and, as he always did, he ruffled your hair.

“So! I have a proposition for you,” the look on his face as he spoke was nothing short of wicked, a pit of nerves began to form in your stomach with the way his eyes were lit up excitedly.

“What are you proposing?” You encouraged exhaustedly. Whatever it was would probably end with you running from Filch.

Fred lopped his long arm around your shoulder, effectively pulling you along with him as he walked in the opposite direction of the Great Hall. Any chance of you getting fed this evening had gone out the window the second Fred clapped eyes on you, you’d made your peace with it. “I’m glad you asked, princess- “ at the sound of the pet name you let out a guttural groan.

“Freddie, please, I’m not in the mood to help you make some poor girl jealous just so you can get a snog,” you whined weakly only for the boy to ruffle your hair and tug you closer to his side.

“Let me finish! As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” he paused to glare at you jokingly and you smiled apologetically, “I have a plan to make George stop acting like a prat.”

A disbelieving scoff left your lips, “Yeah that’s likely,” Fred laughed and pinched your cheek lightly before carrying on.

“Angelina told me that she heard you crying in the girls toilets the other night,” he informed you. Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, you didn’t think anyone was in there with you and you also couldn’t piece together what your moment of weakness had to do with Fred’s master plan. “And before you start, I know it’s because of George.”

“That’s ridiculous, Fred.” You lied, unconvincingly.

Fred laughed again, it was a gentle laugh that let you know he hadn’t come here to tease you but to help you, “I know it’s ridiculous and that’s exactly why I know you’ve been so down in the dumps the last few days.”

“Besides,” he started again when you remained silent, “Why else would Ron be giving his brother the silent treatment?”

“What does any of this have to do with your plan?” You asked, eyes sad and heart heavy for the second time that day. You’d only just managed to get the whole thing out of your mind, and yet, here it was again.

“Well I happen to know why George acts the way he does,” you met him with a raised eyebrow and a bored expression.

“Because he hates me, I know.” Fred’s lips grew into a wicked grin and he shook his head, coming to a stop in the middle of the hallway.

“That’s where you’re wrong. He doesn’t hate you,” he lowered his lips to hover right by your ear before he whispered quietly, “He loves you.”

With a roll of your eyes, you pushed the boy away, fixing him with a hard stare, “Come on, Fred. That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking!” He exclaimed desperately, “We were in potions making amortentia, yeah? And Slughorn called George up to tell the class what he smelled and do you know what he said?” Fred retold madly, knowing full well that this was possibly the only opening he’d get to make the two of you realise your own feelings. Fred was well aware that you developed a crush on George, he picked up on it the second you began looking crestfallen when hit with a snide remark from his twin. He knew long before now that George had loving feelings towards you too, but their recent potions class was the only hard evidence he had to support his theory.

You shrugged helplessly in response, and Fred grabbed your shoulders and looked down at you urgently, “He said it smelled of cloudberries, daisies and-this is a direct quote-‘summer breezes’,” you stared at him numbly, not exactly sure what to say as the description did match the perfume you’d been wearing regularly since you were thirteen.

“That’s you, Y/n!” Fred confirmed and you pulled your lips between your teeth before shaking your head in complete denial.

“Lots of girls wear that perfume-“ Fred cut you off, ruthlessly.

“Name one.” You racked your brain but you genuinely couldn’t name another person who wore the same perfume as you. “You can’t, can you? Because it’s your smell!”

“Ok fine! So it’s my smell, what exactly do you expect me to do with this information?” Fred rolled his eyes in exhaustion at you.

“Blimey, you’re as daft as he is sometimes, do you know that?” Fred ran his hands down his face in exasperation before looking at you softly, “I except you to come with me so we can drive him mental for a bit and if he gets nasty I’ll embarrass him because I’m an incredible brother.”

You let him lead you towards Gryffindor Tower all while complaining about how you were starving only for Fred to hush you each time you let out a hungered whine, “We can raid the kitchen later on, love,” he promised and you sighed in defeat, “That’s the spirit.”

When the pair of you entered the Gryffindor common room, George was already there, probably waiting for Fred to return it. He sat one one of the sofas that faced the fire, completely relaxed and you hated the fact that you thought he looked amazingly ethereal with the way the flames from the fire lit his skin in an orange glow.

He hadn’t noticed you yet and Fred took notice of this. The older twin subtly slid his hand into yours and intertwined your fingers with his before turning his head and shooting you a mischievous wink. Fred Weasley was a nightmare, but when he was on your side, he never failed to make you smile.

Accepting that whatever Fred was about to drag you into would result in nothing but chaos you took a deep breath and followed Fred over to the sofa.

“What is she doing here?” George practically seethed, despite the intensity of his glare, you didn’t miss the nervous look he shot in Fred’s direction. What you had missed, though, was how harshly he’d clenched his jaw upon noticing your intertwined hands.

You decided that tonight you’d play the game slightly differently, if what Fred was saying was true, it would make things all the more entertaining. So, instead of your usual menacing glare and ego-shattering insult you met George with an innocent smile, “Was just hanging out with Freddie, thought I’d come say hello,” you said, sitting in the middle of the two twins.

George stared at you suspiciously, “Hello. That all?”

“Hi. No, actually, I think I’ll sit with you for a while. If that’s okay?” Fred was smirking from his spot beside you as he watched George’s face contort.

“You’ve never wanted to sit with me before.” He told you, squinting his eyes and trying to decipher what you were up to. He couldn’t lie to himself, he definitely wouldn’t mind you staying so close to him for a while, however he’d also sooner die then let you think you had the upper hand.

His and your composure cracked simultaneously at your next sentence, your truthful and somewhat vulnerable mumble of, “Well, you’ve never given me a chance to.” He knew you were right so he didn’t say anymore, opting to shift his gaze to the roaring fire, trying his best not to let his mind linger on the fact that you were wearing his brother’s jumper. His nose perked up at the scent that drifted from your spot, unusually close to him. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d fancied you for a long time, but, there was also no denying that he’d done a perfect job of making you hate him. Yet, as much as he wanted to just cut the crap, tell you that he thinks you’re the most insufferably beautiful girl he’d ever seen and kiss you and never ever stop, his pride would never allow him to cave. Especially not when you challenged him so effortlessly.

“So how come you were headed to dinner so late anyway?” Fred piqued up, growing tired of the lack of hostility between yourself and his twin.

“Oh. I was sort of worked up earlier so I decided to go for a walk ‘round the greenhouses. I bumped into Neville and I suppose I just lost track of time,” you explained halfheartedly.

Fred let yet another smirk overtake his face, “Longbottom, eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you let out a short giggle while shaking your head, sure, it would’ve been a good topic to tease George with, however, Neville was simply too sweet to be used as a pawn.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s very sweet. But he’s just a friend,” George looked almost satisfied with that answer, his usual scowl making an appearance once again.

“He could do better.” It was a barefaced lie. Neville couldn’t do better than you. In fact, George was of the firm belief that nobody could do better than you.

“Of course he could, he’s quite the charmer,” you spoke wistfully, finally giving Fred the show he’d been hoping for, as you egged George on.

George pretended to think for a moment, “I’m sure he is. Personally I think you’d be more suited to Filch, although, I’ve heard his standards are quite high.”

You took the boy by surprise when you laughed, the airy giggle left your mouth had such a profound effect on George that he almost wished he’d kept his mouth shut. His heart was leaping and there were butterflies beginning to form in his stomach, he physically had to will himself not to stare at you in awe when your eyes turned to meet his. The glow of the fire only aided in showing him how gorgeous those stupid eyes of yours are. “Mmm, yeah I suppose I should lower my expectations,” you paused briefly and mimicked George’s earlier motion of pretending to mull over your options. Your next action had Fred practically howling with laughter.

“You’re available, aren’t you Georgie?” You’d asked in a mock sultry tone, leaning towards him and lightly brushing your hand down his arm. Loving the way he choked on air you got up from the sofa, not before shooting him a wink, and sauntered towards the portrait hole, “I’ll be in the kitchens. See ya later, sexy.” You directed the last part at George, who looked as though he’d been frozen in time as Fred’s laughter grew in volume.

Upon entering the kitchen, the house elves had fussed around you, handing you food at any given opportunity. You had finished eating a while ago, you were currently nursing a hot cup of tea while chatting away to one of the house elves, only to be interrupted by someone else entering the kitchen.

He set his sights on you and quickly moved to the seat across from you, a look of urgency on his face that reminded you of Fred, “Whatever he told you. It’s not true,” you raised an eyebrow, sipping your tea uncaringly.

“Mind elaborating?” You asked tiredly.

“Fred.”

“Thank you, George, very clear and helpful,” you grumbled sarcastically and the boy let out a huff.

“You were acting different. You know something. What did he tell you?” George demanded through gritted teeth and you only deflated against your chair. It always boggled your mind how everyone described George as the nicer of the twins.

Not answering, you decided to start asking your own questions, “Can I ask you something?”

“Seems like you’re going to no matter what I say,” he sighed out as an elf pottered up to him and handed him a cup full of hot tea. He took it gently and thanked the elf with such sincerity that you wished you hadn’t seen the exchange, simply because it stung to know he’d never treat you with that level of sincerity.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He sat frozen for a second. Your tone of voice took him by surprise. It was needy bordering on desperate, nothing like he’d ever heard you speak before, not to him anyway.

George took a sip of his tea and shrugged as if the question was a stupid one, “I don’t.” A cold, humourless laugh came from you in response, the kind of laugh that made his stomach drop.

“Bollox. I’m being serious, George. Tell me what it is about me that makes me so insufferable to you!” You exclaimed, heart rate increasing and tone raising in octaves as you felt yourself growing more upset by his reserved expression.

George let out a heavy sigh, the jig was about to be up. You were upset and merlin was he tired of pretending that he didn’t want you in every way, shape and form.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.” There was no trace of hesitance or uncertainty in your voice, at this point you didn’t care what the answer was you just had to know.

“Fine,” he said all too casually and you knew by his tone that he, as per usual, wasn’t taking you seriously. “I don’t hate you. The only insufferable thing about you is how annoyingly gorgeous-“ you cut him off right then, with a scoff of pure disbelief.

Shaking your head rapidly, you stood from your chair and all but stormed out of the kitchen. His footsteps began to echoed behind you a few corridors later, he would’ve caught up to you sooner had your response to his would be confession not left him completely immobile. He called your name but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. Tears stung your eyes and you absolutely refused to let him know that he’d managed to bring you to the point of tears. Not that it was the first time.

“Bloody hell, Y/n! Hold on would you?” He called, finally getting close enough to reach out and grab your wrist. He spun you around to face him and quickly placed his hands on your upper arms to stop you from doing another runner. When he took you in he swore he’d never hate himself more than he did the moment he looked at you to see your eyes filled with tears, small drops escaping and carving a trail down your cheeks while you sniffed miserably.

“What?” You snapped, hostility the only thing you felt like offering the ginger in the moment. His brown eyes bored into yours with so much intensity but they held something you didn’t recognise. They looked sad, almost.

“I wasn’t making fun of you.” He stated honestly but you furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes set in a glare.

“Then what were you doing?” You croaked, letting your tears fall freely as the damage was already done. The sinking of your stomach and the tightening of your chest didn’t do a thing to ease your mind as George’s hands squeezed your arms.

He licked his lips quickly, he felt they’d become unbearably dry, and then slowly, he let his hands trail down your arms and took your smaller hands into his own. He hoped you were feeling the same electricity he was when he touched you.

“I’ve been a prick to you. You didn’t deserve it and I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, but you second guessed him. For all you knew it was just some elaborate prank, Fred was probably in on it too.

When your gaze didn’t soften, he continued to speak, “So I understand why you wouldn’t believe me when I tell you that I don’t hate you. But I just-“ he cut himself off with a heavy sigh.

“You just what?” You squeaked when his eyes spent a moment too long observing your lips. You hardly had time to register the feeling of his hands leaving yours before they were cupping your cheeks instead. “What’re you doing?” You wondered, completely dazed by the way he stared at you. His warm hands holding your face causing your stomach to jolt in an entirely different sensation than before. As much as you wanted to push him away and tell him to shove his apology, you couldn’t help but take him in. His lips were parted ever so slightly and his cheeks were flushed, probably from chasing you through the castle, his hair was disheveled and merlin he looked like he wanted to kiss you.

Your question floated in the air, completely unanswered. Next thing you knew his lips were on yours. He kissed you as if you were oxygen and he’d just been drowning and you couldn’t help but move your lips harmonically against his too. Your hands clutched his wrists as he continued to cradle your cheeks. In all honesty you weren’t sure at what point he’d backed you against the wall, or at what point his tongue had entered your mouth or when exactly his hands had migrated to your hips, yours now tangled in his hair. His body was pressed flush against yours and the small groans he’d let out when you tugged at his hair or ran your tongue against his made you realise that you couldn’t care less if this was one big prank or joke. It was happening and that’s all you cared about.

Even as he reluctantly pulled away, he chased your lips with several shorter kisses before separating entirely. He rested his forehead against yours, his guard completely down now as he admired your swollen lips and heaving chest. The feeling of your fingers in his hair made it nearly impossible for him to keep his lips detached from yours, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that.”

Your eyes searched his face for any sign that he was lying, when you found none you finally let yourself smile. A similar smile formed on George’s face, “I meant what I said earlier. I really do think you’re annoyingly gorgeous,” the boy silently praised himself when you let out a cute giggle.

“You’re quite cute too. When you’re not running that massive mouth of yours,” you teased although you weren’t really joking, to your surprise George let out a bellowing laugh before placing a fluttering kiss against your lips.

When he pulled away again he looked around the hallway, as if he only now realised where he was. Luckily nobody was wandering the halls since curfew was fast approaching and the unwelcoming cold that occupied the hallways left little reason for students or staff to be out and about. George slid his hand into yours again, this time intertwining your fingers with his. He gave you a hopeful glance and asked, “Do you wanna go somewhere?”

You nodded your head and let him tug you into one of the abandoned astronomy classrooms on the upper floor of the castle, Filch rarely ever patrolled up there which is why George decided on it. As well as that, since the classroom, which had been out of use for a good few years, had been used for astronomy the ceiling was bewitched to reflect the night sky.

George hadn’t come to this particular class in a while but thinking on his feet he remembered the cupboard at the back of the classroom used to hold blankets, he remembered when the classroom had been in use during his first year, students would be all but freezing during the winter, so they’d stocked the classroom with blankets to be brought out during the colder months.

He made his way over to the cupboard and grinned happily when his hand landed on a rather large woollen blanket. The material was scratchy but it would do for what he needed it for. He grabbed one more blanket from the dusty press before he made his way back over to you.

George suppressed a chuckle as he watched you, your face completely turned up, watching the stars on the ceiling with awe in your eyes. He busied himself with laying the wool blanket out on the bare floor, the room was devoid of tables and chairs so he didn’t have to worry about finding a space. Once he was finished, he plopped down on the blanket and expectantly patted the empty space beside him, “Come on then, sit down,” he urged and you finally tore your eyes away from the charmed ceiling.

A small laugh left your lips when you settled yourself down beside him, he wasted no time in covering the pair of you in the second blanket. With an exaggerated sigh he laid back and waited for you to do the same, he turned on his side to face you when you did. In contrast to earlier, George had an air of nervousness about him as he deftly took your hand and began playing with your fingers, not meeting your eyes. “Just out of curiosity,” he began quietly, making eye contact with you now, “What exactly did Fred tell you?”

His question forced a somewhat smug smirk to crawl onto your lips and you couldn’t help but take the opportunity to tease him. You leaned up on your elbows and twisted slightly so you could look down at him, trying not to waste too much time admiring the view, you answered him, “Oh, nothing really. Your lovely twin just happened to mention that you had a very eventful potions class the other day…” you trailed off, biting back a smile as he groaned.

“Mhm and what was it that he said you smelled from the amortentia?” You poked his cheek and he closed his eyes, a tiny smile growing on his face despite his blushing cheeks. “Cloudberries…oh! And daisies, now, what was the other thing? Let me think-“ you pretended to ponder before George cut you off by pulling you down on him and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss much softer than any of the others.

“Summer breezes,” he whispered against your lips before connecting them again, “It smelled like you,” and with that his hand snaked to the nape of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours, pouring all of his feelings into it, hoping it was enough. In all honesty, now that he’d felt what it was like to love you, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to go back to pretending to hate you.

Once he pulled away you were completely breathless, however, George seemed to have more to say. “I don’t want us to go back to the way we were,” absentmindedly you brushed his hair out of his eyes, stroking the red strands soothingly as he continued to confide in you, his voice, face and body completely vulnerable to you. Something about him trusting you with his feelings reassured you that his intentions were pure and banished any notion you possessed of the whole thing being a joke, “I didn’t like it, acting like that but you were always so unbothered that I felt like I had keep one upping you,” he confessed.

“You always gave me this feeling in my stomach whenever you’d come over to the Burrow with your parents when we were little and I didn’t understand it. I just thought that it must’ve meant I didn’t like you…” George seemed to get lost in his own mind as he gazed at you regretfully, his fingers trailed the length of your spine sofly, “By the time I realised, we were both older and I suppose I just thought you couldn’t feel the same ‘cause I made you hate me,” you hummed in acknowledgment, your fingers still working his hair, keeping it out of his eyes that looked at you so intently that you could’ve drowned in them and died happy.

“But then the other night after dinner Angie slapped me upside the head and talked my ear off about how out of order I’d been—obviously I agree with her! You weren’t even talking to me but Neville was complimenting you and I don’t know… just got possessive,” he muttered the last part, losing some confidence but regained it upon seeing the little smile on your lips. “Then Ron looked about ready to push me off the astronomy tower when I saw him this evening. Blimey, I knew it had to have something to do with you since Harry was snippy too.” You had to laugh at the exhausted look on his face when he recalled your two best friends.

Mockingly, you gave him a stern look and clicked your tongue, “Well, perhaps if you weren’t so mean to me all of this could’ve been avoided,” George groaned once again, feeling guilty he pulled you even closer and buried his face in your neck.

“M’sorry,” you carded your fingers through his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his head. Your lips against his head caused him to lift his face from the crook of your neck, “Forgive me?” He asked, a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ll think about it,” you teased, giggling at the offended look on his face. George let out a dissatisfied sigh, he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear before giving you a toothy smile.

“Don’t worry, love. I plan on making it up to you.”

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter x reader #fred weasley x reader #ron weasley x reader #neville longbottom x reader #weasley twins x reader

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