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avnkin · 4 years

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Shake On It [ 2 ]

Author’s note: I was really in my harry feels whilst writing this so sorry about that lmao also I proofread this so many times and it still SUCKS ASS. I posted this entire thing earlier from my phone but tumblr deleted everything except the title so yeah I’m sorry if there aren’t italics and bolds on some of the words where they should be but i’m just to lazy to go through the entire thing and find them all again, maybe i’ll do it later but who knows. I do not own harry potter or the storyline/characters they are the intellectual property of J.K Rowling. (not my gif)

Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: There’s little to nothing Draco values more than his reputation so when he sees it slipping, he’ll do anything in his power to catch it.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader / Platonic!Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, foul language, asshole!draco and daddy issues lol

This is an AU so all the information doesn’t exactly line up with the HP storyline for example Voldemort hasn’t returned but still exists so little from Harry’s history changes but Dumbledore’s still alive.

After yours and Draco’s interaction the other night you’d strongly begun reconsidering his offer to accompany him to the ball, maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought, I mean what’s the worst that could happen? So many things your anxiety was quick to answer, the most important one being that Harry and Ron would probably never speak to you again.

“Y/N are you even listening to me?” Hermione’s voice snapped you out of your trance, her blurry hand waving in front of your face, you quickly began blinking in an attempt to bring your surroundings back into focus, “sorry” you then muttered sending her an apologetic smile before gesturing for her to continue with whatever she’d been talking about.

“As I was saying, I need a cute date for the ball, who do you think will annoy Ron the most?” you were about to answer when a voice from behind you beat you to it.

“Annoy who the most?”

You rolled your eyes having a pretty clear idea of who it was, you reluctantly turned around your eyes immediately locking onto Draco’s who stood there in all his glory a smug smile plastered onto his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Excuse me who invited you to this conversation?” you retorted before turning back to Hermione who had an amused grin on her face causing you to lightly kick her from underneath the table, you didn’t want Draco putting two and two together and realizing you’d talked about him with Hermione.

“I was just wondering if you’d changed your mind about going with me to the ball” Draco cajoled causing your eyes to widen realizing you still hadn’t told Hermione about the fact he’d asked you in the first place.

You sent Hermione an an ‘i’ll tell you later’ look before twisting your body to face Draco’s who now had his hands placed in his robe pockets, his self assurance radiating off of him despite the fact you’d rejected him only days before, the boy had clearly never been told ‘no’ his entire life.

“No and I won’t be, so run along” you stated before making a shooing gesture with your hand which only seemed to have the opposite effect you’d intended it too, since he began to take a few steps forward, licking his lips as he looked you up and down.

“Yes you will” he stated matter of factly and it took all self control you had not to smack him right across the face, who did he think he was?

“Is it really that hard to get it into that tiny little brain of yours that there are girls alive who don’t like you” you practically growled missing how Hermione’s attention had drifted away from the scene unfolding before her and to the two figures who had begun making their way towards you.

“Yes because there aren’t an-”

“Malfoy find someone else to bother can’t you see she’s not interested” Harry cut him off as him and Ron now fully came into view, the two of them standing tall behind Draco whose attention had now shifted from you to them.

“Oh look who it is, dumb and dumber” chortles could be heard from the Slytherin table at Draco’s words causing you to roll your eyes, it was pathetic how they would lick up every single thing he did.

“Offers still there Y/L/N” Draco turned to you before he slowly started to ascend back towards the Slytherin table where he was greeted with numerous pats on the back as he squeezed himself in between Crabbe and Goyle.

“What a slimy git” Ron huffed as he took the seat next to yours, immediately beginning to scoop all the food in view onto his plate.

“What did he want anyways?” Harry asked resting his elbows on the wooden house table as he sat down opposite you.

“He asked if I wanted to go to the ball with him” you feigned disgust as you shook your head, hoping he would drop the subject, you’d never been a good liar and if anyone could see through you it would surely be your best friend.

“Just tell him you’re going with me if he asks again, then he’ll leave you alone” Harry suggested, Ron nodding along with him as he stuffed a chicken wing into his mouth.

“Yeah- yeah ‘course thank you Harry” you scratched the back of your head cringing at the obvious hint of disappointment lingering in your words which thankfully no one but Hermione seemed to notice since she reached her hand out across the table and laid it gently atop of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You gave her a small smile before your eyes began dancing around the Great Hall somehow coming to a halt on Draco’s figure, he had his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he engaged in conversation with Blaise.

No one could say that Draco Malfoy wasn’t handsome, rude and a prat? Sure, but unattractive no. He was the only boy you’d ever seen who was able to pull of such a hair color and as your eyes travelled along his sharp jawline up to his chiseled cheekbones you felt the uncontrollable feeling of heat rush up to your face as his eyes met yours.

He sent you a wink before turning back around, you mirroring his actions the feeling of butterflies swarming your stomach slowly melting away as you pushed any remaining thoughts of him aside.

The ball was only a few days from now and you and Hermione had decided to take a trip down to Hogsmeade in an attempt to shop for dresses, not wanting to repeat what had happened last year when you both had made the mistake of trusting your parents with your attires, the dresses they’d choosen had arrived the same night as the ball and you had been forced to show up in matching bright pink gowns since it had been too late to go and buy new ones. You’d been the laughing stocks off the school for a couple months after that, never again.

You cringed at the memory that would surely be edged into your mind forever but as you pushed open the wooden door that led into Gladrags Wizardwear you found yourself entranced with all the beautiful dresses littered around the shop.

“Have you decided who you’re gonna go to the ball with?” Hermione hummed as her fingers trailed over a blue gown that hung along with hundreds of others at the front of the store.

“Yeah I think I’m just gonna go with Harry, I don’t want to risk my friendship with either him or Ron by going with Draco” you sighed not feeling the need to hide your disappointment in front of her.

“I get that but if you really do like Malfoy you should just ease Harry and Ron into the idea of you two being together” Hermione shrugged in response before removing the dress she’d been looking at from its hanger and placing it into her arms as you continued browsing.

“How am I supposed to do that you know how much they hate him” you sighed as you lightly dragged your hand over the multiple fabrics that hung on the clothing rag next to you.

“You could dance with him at the ball” Hermione suggested, you nodded silently in agreement before coming to an abrupt halt as a certain dress caught your eye. It was champagne colored and made out of silk with a thigh high split running down the side of it, not the type of dress you’d usually go for but nevertheless you carefully placed it into your arms deciding their was no harm in seeing how it looked on you.

“Who are you going with?” you changed the subject not feeling like talking about Draco anymore, it was really killing your mood.

“Hero Finnigan asked me” your eyes widened at Hermione’s words. Hero Finnigan was in the year above you and was quite the heartthrob around school, he’d been known for having a new girl underneath his arm every week and it seemed that this time around it was going to be Hermione, much to your surprise.

“Please tell me you said yes, if anyone’s going to make Ron jealous it’s definitely him” you assured her, looping your arm with hers as you continued skimming through the store.

“Of course I said yes, I’m not that daft” she shook her head before continuing, “I don’t know though I-I guess I was just hoping that in the end Ron would ask me, but apparently he’s going with Lavender” her nose scrunched up at the mere mention of her name as she let out a heavy sigh.

Your heart ached for your best friend as you put an arm around her shoulder giving her a tight side hug, a subtle way of letting her know you were there for her no matter what.

“Enough about that let’s go try on our dresses and we can tell each other what we think” Hermione was obviously trying to distract herself but you didn’t feel like pressing the subject any further so you only nodded in agreement as you started searching for the changing rooms, it was a surprisingly big shop compared to how small it had appeared from the outside.

Once you’d finally found them at the far end of the shop you both entered separate rooms, simultaneously pulling the curtains shut shielding you from the watchful eyes of the other customers, although there weren’t that many.

You took one last look at the dress letting your fingers wander down the silky fabric before carefully removing it from its hanger and slipping your legs in between the opening.

Once you got it on, you weren’t able to reach the zipper on the back, no matter how hard you tried so you stealthily peeked your head out behind the curtain and seeing no one you began to make your way towards Hermione’s changing room hoping she could be of some assistance.

“Need some help with that?” a voice stopped you dead in your tracks, swiftly turning to see Draco standing there, a mischievous smirk resting on his lips as he took a step closer to you.

“Are you stalking me or something?” you shook your head, furrowing your brows once you noticed how his eyes weren’t meeting yours, instead they were trailing up and down your body, devouring every inch of you.

“Eyes up here Malfoy” you teased which made him finally look up at you, but instead of replying with a snide comment of his own he threw the suit he’d been holding onto a clothing rag nearby and slowly began to stride towards you.

You weren’t able to get a word out as he tenderly placed his ring clad fingers on top of your bare shoulders scanning your face for approval witch you granted by carefully nodding your head taking in a deep breath as you felt him begin to slowly turn you around.

You shivered once the cold metal wrapped around his fingers began to run down your arms, his fingertips then gently dancing down the small of your back in a painfully teasing manner.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy sigh as he took a step closer to you his lips ghosting over your ear as he began to pull the zipper upwards causing you to almost involuntarily lean into him. As soon as you did his scent consumed you, he smelled of expensive cologne and spearmint, even better than you could have ever imagined.

He stopped as the zip reached the bottom strands of your hair, he thought for a moment before he carefully wrapped his hand around your h/c locks, twisting them gently around his fingers before letting them fall over the side of your shoulder, the tips of his fingers ever so slightly running across the side of your neck as he moved them back down to where he’d stopped.

You gently tilted your head, closing your eyes in content once you felt his hot breath fan over your neck, you leaned your head back at the sensation resting it atop of Draco’s shoulder, shivering once you felt his lips ghost over the sweet spot just behind your ear, one of his arms finding your waist as the other continued to work its way up your back.

Once you heard the faint sound of the zipper click as it reached its closing you slowly opened your eyes feeling him take an impossible step closer to you, your behind now pressed into his front as he trailed his hands down to your hips.

“You clean up quite nice Y/L/N” he breathed out as he began running his hands up to your stomach before finally reaching your waist where they abruptly stopped so that he could turn you back around, you let out a gasp at the sudden forced movement your hands clinging onto his shoulders to prevent you from falling.

You opened your mouth but no words came out as you were consumed by the feeling of his fingers digging into your sides, his lips mere centimeters from yours you almost unknowingly began to lean in.

He mirrored your movements but just before your lips could meet someone cleared their throat from behind you causing you to jump away from him, frowning at the sudden loss of contact.

Once your eyes met Hermione’s you quickly cleared your throat acting as if nothing had (almost) happened, she raised an eyebrow obviously confused at the scene unfolding before her.

You turned back towards Draco who was looking at you almost expectantly, “I’m going with Harry to the ball” you suddenly felt the need to tell him, hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea from the little moment you had just shared.

“Potter seriously?” Draco scoffed in return before making his way around you and Hermione, your eyes following his figure and as soon as he was completely out of sight you finally felt like you could breath again, staggering backwards into Hermione who quickly put her arms up to catch you.

“Oh I’m in trouble”

You’d decided to buy the dress you’d tried on in the store, even though every time you put it on you couldn’t shake away the feeling of Draco being pressed against you as his lips hovered dangerously close to your neck.... You shook your head in hopes that it would toss the memory out of your mind, you couldn’t be thinking about Draco right now, not when Harry was standing just outside the Gryffindor common room patiently waiting for you to get ready.

“Can you zip me up?” you turned your back to Hermione who quickly rushed to your side swiftly beginning to pull the zipper on the back of your dress upwards. As you closed your eyes you got momentary flashes off Draco’s ring clad fingers wrapped around your body and you tried with all your might to shake the tingling feeling you got away, but nothing seemed to be working.

“Okay do a little spin for me” you let out a laugh at Hermione’s words but nevertheless you began spinning around your dorm playfully, letting your hair fall across your shoulders as Hermione threw her head back in laughter.

“You look incredible” she complemented as you engulfed each other in tight hugs mentally preparing yourselves for the night ahead.

“Oh please, I’m nothing compared to you” you stated linking your arms together before the two of you began to make your way to your awaiting dates.

Once the door to the Gryffindor common room opened the first thing you saw was Harry engaged in conversation with Hero, you could tell by his uncomfortable shuffling that the exchange had been awkward causing you to let out a small giggle which captured the attention of the two boys.

Harry’s mouth hung open as he let his eyes wander all over you, from the thigh-high front split on the front of your dress to your flawless makeup and perfectly styled hair, he was speechless, if you two weren’t best friends he’d probably be tripping over his own two feet by now.

“Well this is certainly an upgrade from last year” Harry let out a teasing laugh as he bowed down to take your hand in his.

“Oh shut up” you feigned annoyance as you stood beside him, feeling goosebumps run up your arms as his hand came to rest on your lower back, leading the two of you towards the Great Hall.

“In all seriousness Y/N, you look amazing” Harry gushed as he pulled you into his side. An uncontrollable blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words as you let your head fall on his shoulder.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Potter” you teased, the two of you letting out simultaneous fits of laughter as you followed closely behind Hero and Hermione.

After a moment of silence Harry suddenly spoke out, “Ron was going to ask her you know” the two of you shared knowing glances at his words, it was so painfully obvious that your other two best friends were head over heels in love with each other but neither of them dared to make the first move, either to scared of being rejected or ruining their many years worth of friendship.

“Figures” you shrugged a comfortable silence overtaking you as you walked over to one of the many rows of couples stood in front of the entrance leading into the Great Hall.

As the doors begun to open you excitedly smiled up at Harry but before you were able to move forward another couple had harshly pushed their way in front of you and you were immediately able to identify the mob of platinum blond hair.

“Excuse me” you rolled your eyes causing the two of them to turn their heads towards you, you couldn’t hold in your scoff once you saw who he’d decided to bring, Pansy Parkinson of all the people in this bloody school.

“Don’t start anything Malfoy” Harry warned before either of them were able to get a word out, it looked like Pansy was going to throw a snide comment your way but stopped as soon as her eyes met Draco’s, she let out a huff before reluctantly turning back around.

“You look dashing” Draco complimented, you could feel Harry tense up beside you and you snaked an arm around his waist in an attempt to calm him down, the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene.

“Shouldn’t you be telling that to your date?” you retorted gesturing towards Pansy who seemed to be strangely quiet, usually she couldn’t keep her mouth shut no matter the circumstance, but you weren’t complaining.

Draco didn’t respond instead he just shrugged his shoulders before turning back around his arm slipping down towards Pansy’s lower back, you felt the inkling feeling of jealousy begin to form inside you but you forced yourself to push it away giving Harry’s bicep a reassuring squeeze knowing it had taken all his might not to hex Draco then and there.

As soon as Draco and Pansy had left you two be you quickly pulled Harry along with you into the hall so you wouldn’t get trampled by the entourage of students crowded behind you who were also squeezing their way through the double doors.

You intertwined your fingers with Harry’s as you took in your surroundings. It looked even better than last year, snow was falling from the starry black ceiling stopping just a few feet above you, mistletoe’s and every traditional Christmas decoration you could think of were littered all across the hall and instead of the usual house tables there were hundreds of smaller silver ones, each having it’s own floating candle above them.

Once you spotted a decent place to sit you tugged onto Harry’s arm gesturing for him to follow you towards the table your eyes were set on, somehow along the way you managed to spot Hermione and you threw your arm up gesturing for her hand Hero to come sit with you and Harry.

It wasn’t long until the chair beside you was being pulled from underneath the table and Hermione placed her self atop of it along with Hero, you happily greeted both of them but all joy inside you seemed to fade away once you noticed Ron and Lavender heading your way.

Oh please no

Ron placed a chaste kiss on Lavender’s cheek as he pointed towards your table.

Don’t sit here

Lavender eagerly began to nod following behind Ron as they inched closer and closer.

Anywhere but here

Despite your silent praying Ron was now pulling a chair out for Lavender before taking a seat himself and as soon as he did an awkward tension filled the air. You grabbed Hermione’s hand from underneath the table giving it a reassuring squeeze noticing how she’d tensed up once Lavender had bitterly greeted her.

“Whose this then?” Ron could be heard from the other end of the table, you rolled your eyes at his tone, how did Hermione not realize he was jealous hell even Hero seemed to notice it as his eyes uncomfortably shifted between Hermione’s angered expression and Ron’s annoyed one.

“Hero Finnigan, and you?” he reached his hand out over the table and for a split moment your eyes had widened thinking Ron was actually going to sit there and ignore him but thankfully the ginger haired boy reluctantly reached over the table and connected his hand with Hero’s.

“Ron, Ron Weasely”

“Weasely, eh? could have guessed, I’m good friends with your brothers” Hero attempted to make conversation but Ron didn’t seem all to keen on it only muttering a “whatever” underneath his breath causing you to kick him from underneath the table, you gave him a warning glance to which he replied by throwing a small ‘piss off’ in your direction.

Before you could begin to scold him for his rude behaviour Dumbledore’s voice tore throughout the Great Hall preventing you from doing so although you had a feeling that if it hadn’t had been him it probably would have been Harry.

“Welcome students to our annual Jingle Ball, may I say you all look wonderful tonight” Dumbledore gingerly smiled, his wand lightly pressed against the side of his neck as he gestured towards the numerous students all dressed in their finest attires.

“We’ll start the evening with a three course meal prepared by our lovely house elves” claps begun to sound around the Great Hall which you quickly joined in on, smiling brightly once you noticed the numerous elves clumsily standing up from their seats and waving at the students.

“Once you’ve finished eating a band will be preforming for us and I hope that you and your dates will be joining me and McGonagall on the dance floor” laughter sounded around the hall at the last part of his sentence but instead of joining in like you usually would you found yourself draining out all noise as your eyes met Draco’s.

He’d already been looking your way and you couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips as his icy grey eyes burned through yours, you felt like there was some type of force drawing you to him and you couldn’t do anything about it, even though your head was screaming at you that shouldn’t be developing feelings for someone as arrogant and cruel as Draco Malfoy your heart seemed to be having trouble following.

Once everyone had finished eating you were eager to get away from your table, somehow Hero and Ron had begun a full blown argument which you and Hermione had to quickly shut down by asking Lavender to take Ron somewhere else until he’d calm down, that boy could not control his temper if his life depended on it.

You’d managed to cheer Hermione up after the entire ordeal telling her that she should focus on herself for once and have fun, thankfully she’d listened and you couldn’t help the giddy expression overtaking your facial features as you watched her and Hero sway together on the dance floor.

“Care to dance M’ lady” Harry merrily bowed down in front of you reaching his hand out towards yours, you placed a hand on your chest in feigned surprise before gently laying your hand in Harry’s palm.

“Why, I would be delighted to” you attempted a posh accent unable to contain the giggle that fell past your lips as you let Harry lead you to the dance floor.

As soon as his arm had wrapped around your waist and the other intertwined with your hand another slow song began playing, most of the students were still digesting their food so their weren’t many on the dance floor, it was only you and Harry, Hero and Hermione and about six other couples.

You leaned your head on Harry’s chest letting him slowly sway you to the soothing melody of the song. “You know I love you right?” Harry mumbled as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I love you too, silly” you brightly smiled up at him, you both knew there weren’t harbored feelings for the other hidden behind those three words so you had no trouble voicing it to each other.

You tightly wrapped your arms around his waist continuing to slowly move around the dance floor. You knew how hard his life had been leading up to this point, losing his family, Sirius, and then Cedric he always had the inkling fear that one day he’d lose you or Ron or Hermione so you wanted to make sure he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

Sometimes silence speaks louder than words and you knew you were saying everything you needed just by being there with him, it felt like hours that you’d stayed that way wrapped in each others arms but soon students begun to make their way to the dance floor so you and Harry decided to take a short break, heading hand in hand back towards your table.

Unbeknownst to you whilst you and Harry had been in your own world gently dancing with each other for all eyes to see, Draco had been enduring pure torture over at his table.

“I can’t believe she choose Potter over you”

“That’s gotta sting”

“How’s it feel being the second choice”

“Hope you’re ready to do my homework for the rest of the year”

Was all he had heard for the last hour as he’d watched you and Harry dance with one another. No matter the threats he threw their way and menacing looks they just wouldn’t stop, he felt as if his power of being crowned the Slytherin prince was slipping away from him, since in his world losing to someone like Harry Potter was as low as you could get.

Then and there Draco decided he wasn’t going to endure it anymore he was making his move tonight no matter the circumstance.

“You know Ginny’s been eyeing you all night” you wiggled your eyebrows nudging Harry’s shoulder who awkwardly began shifting in his seat as he mumbled a ‘really’ in response to which you nodded.

“Go ask her too dance!” you stood up so you could force him out of his seat along with you, you subtly pointed towards Ginny’s direction who had swiftly looked away as soon as her eyes had met Harry’s.

“But what about you?” Harry frowned realizing you didn’t have anyone to spend time with if he’d leave since both Hermione and Ron seemed to be preoccupied with their dates.

“Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine! now go” you ushered him forward giving him a reassuring thumbs up as he began to walk towards her.

“You’re quite the matchmaker aren’t you?” Hermione had suddenly walked up behind you and you both watched in amusement as Harry almost fell over twice before he was able to reach Ginny who had happily agreed to dance with him.

“Where’s Hero?” you asked as you turned to face Hermione eyes wandering around the hall in an attempt to spot her date, “oh he’s just gone to get us some drinks, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like” Hermione offered but you shook your head.

“No its okay honestly I’m fine” you assured her, you did not want to spend the evening third wheeling your best friend and her date.

Hermione began opening her mouth surely to convince you to join them but stopped once her eyes landed on something behind you or rather someone behind you.

“Care to dance?”

You swiftly turned around to see Draco with his hand reaching out towards you, you tried your best to contain the smile that was so desperately gnawing at the sides of your mouth as you turned back to Hermione who was giving you knowing smile.

“Find me if you need anything alright?” you eagerly nodded at her words only turning back to Draco once Hermione had fully vanished into the crowd.

“One dance, that’s it” you attempted to sound serious but it came off in a more teasing manner as you let your hand fall into Draco’s.

“Agreed”

As soon as you’d reached the middle of the dance floor, Draco’s arm had snaked around your waist pulling you into him whilst the other intertwined your fingers. You let out a giggle as he began twirling you around, gracefully catching you back in his arms as both his hands moved to rest on your lower back.

“You’re quite the dancer” you complimented, without a doubt boosting Draco’s already large ego, “I know” he had replied with a knowing smirk, twirling you around one last time before pulling you flush up against him your noses bumping together since you’d already been looking up at him. You’d held the eye contact for a minute as you brightly smiled at each other before you gently let your chin rest on his shoulder as he slowly began swaying you from side to side.

As your eyes began dancing over the students you didn’t think anything could burst your happy bubble until your eyes found Harry’s who had a look of disappointment edged onto his features as he pulled away from Ginny who had frowned at his sudden dismissal as she watched him begin to make his way out of the Great Hall.

You cleared your throat as you uncomfortably began shuffling away from Draco who gave you a look of confusion as he watched you pull your hand out of his and back away from him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry I can’t do this” you muttered before hurriedly turning around and squeezing your way through the crowd of students all huddled together on the dance floor, most of them giving you annoyed glances as you pushed them out of the way but you didn’t care all you wanted to do was find Harry. You couldn’t imagine how he’d felt once he saw you his best friend, dancing with someone who’d made his life a living hell ever since the first year.

Once you’d exited the Great Hall you frantically began looking around the empty corridors in an attempt to find Harry who’d stormed out here only moments ago.

“Y/N!” you heard Draco call from behind you but you ignored him, picking up your pace once you heard his nearing footsteps echoing around the empty hallways.

“Y/N please wait” you felt him grab ahold of your wrist swiftly turning you back to face him, his grip only tightening as you began attempting to pull your hand away.

“No! You can’t treat my friends like shit and then expect me to give in on whatever the hell you’re trying to do” you finally managed to rip your hand out of his grasp as you turned back around but he quickly ran in front of you placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place.

“Listen I’m sorry alright, bloody hell I just- I can’t stop thinking about you I don’t know how to explain it but I think I might-” he cut himself off hesitating to speak his next words unsure of how you’d react since he didn’t want to return to his friends with yet another failed attempt.

“You think you might what?” you crossed your arms over your chest glaring up at him as you watched his mouth open and close again.

“Fancy you” he finally let out, your eyes widening as you let your hands fall down to your hips. You took a few steps back until you couldn’t move any further the tall walls of the castle preventing you from doing so.

“You what?” you barely whispered and Draco took that as his chance to walk towards you placing both his hands on the wall next to you.

As you looked back up at him he slowly started to remove one hand from the wall so he could place it onto your cheek and just like he’d done in the store, he began leaning in until his lips were barely hovering above yours, you so desperately wanted to close the gap between you but a part of you was screaming to push him away and never look back, but as your eyes met his once more you couldn’t bring yourself to do it your heart taking control as he pressed his lips against your own.

Your lips continued dancing with each other at a normal pace until he’d moved to deepen the kiss swiftly wrapping his arms around your waist so you were able to loop yours around his neck, he pushed you even tighter up against the wall causing you to let out a gasp allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You ran your fingers through his hair gently pulling on the strands on the back of his head before letting your head fall to the side as he began leaving kisses down your neck his hands trailing down your sides until they wrapped around your hips pulling you even further into him.

You gently blinked your eyes open as you pulled away from him, your lips undoubtedly swollen and your lipstick smeared but you didn’t care.

“No one can know about this, not until I talk to Harry” you breathed out leaning your forehead against his as you attempted to slow your heart rate by taking deep breaths in and out.

“Of course I won’t tell anyone” he lied, he’d gotten quite good at that after having to continuously lie to his father ever since he was a child, one particular incident that he would never forget was when he’d accidentally let one of the house elves go because he didn’t know that to free them they had to be granted an item of clothing and on a particularly cold night he saw no harm in granting the elf his jacket since it had been shivering beside him and when his father had barged into his room later in the night furious at his son’s stupidity Draco had lied and told him that the elf had tricked him into doing so and upon hearing this his father had tracked the elf down and casted the unforgivable curse onto him, after that Draco lied to his father about almost everything he did to ensure something like that would never happen again.

Amongst his peers he was powerful and feared but when it came to his father he was nothing, never good enough and always in the way. School was the only place he felt he was more than his father’s words so he knew that as soon as he would make his way into the Slytherin common room the first thing he was going to do was tell his friends that he’d done it, that you were slowly but surely beginning to fall for him, which put him right back on top.

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@itzsoff @multiversegalaxygirl @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @awkwardnesshabitat @tiredplier @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @macheregrace @dobreesersei @voidmalfoy @lana-isabelle @fangirlyah @dracomalfoyswifey @lonely-kermit @mrsmyamalfoy @fuzzy-panda @sluthug @urbankaite2 @chickeebabe @classygirlything @dark-night-sky-99 @ranialih @pillowjj @im-a-stranger-thing @christinechickiee @imstillhere-butallislost @spencerreidisbootiful @hip-hopphile @justmesadgirl @gia-kerks @lilxnvm @kelly182001 @moonbug26 @gabiconstellation @sleepinmoonbean @mautand @oldschoolkiddo @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @dreams-in-blxck @stalker83005 @criesinlies @sxlted-carxrmel @moonjooniee @maskd-hearts @little-honey-bear @dobreesersei

Let me know in my inbox or asks if you’d liked to be added, much love <333

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #tom felton #tom felton imagine #hermione granger #ron weasley #slytherin #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #harry potter films

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pokelolmc · 4 years

Text

Ectoberweek Day 1: (Fog)

(I only just remembered about Ectoberweek when I saw people posting their things for Day 1, and I really wanted to participate in some sort of fandom event this year so I scrambled to find the prompt list and started writing my stuff last minute lol. No preparation time--RIP me. This particular one came from a massive inspiration burst between the prompt and a DP crossover idea I had a few months ago, but never wrote. This oneshot is more of a DP-only nod to the other media than a crossover, but I might create a larger crossover story based on it and include it on ff.net if anyone’s interested. Kudos to anyone who gets what this is based off of--it’s probably obvious though.)

(Also, I deeply apologise for how long it is)

Ectoberweek Day 1: Fog

(‘… It wasn’t until the semi-rare encounter of all four Fentons at the breakfast table together that the weather change, bless Danny’s obliviousness, crossed his mind again.

“Be careful on your way out, kids!” his mother called as his chair screeched across the dining room floor and he grabbed his backpack off the couch, “The forecast predicts a fog this morning!”

“The forecast?” Jazz cocked an incredulous eyebrow at the ghost-hunting matriarch from her position in the front foyer, “Have you looked out the window yet?! It’s so thick I can barely see the house across the street!”

“Yeah, I saw it out the window when I woke up, but I didn’t think it would be that bad.” Danny hummed with a frown as he flipped his remaining backpack strap over the other shoulder. You’re not gonna be driving, are you?”

“Of course not!” His sister replied, aghast, “I’m going to walk this time. They’re starting school late to accommodate for the transportation hindrances.”

“And you didn’t tell me that earlier!?” he cried indignantly.

“I knew it would motivate you to slack around and leave the house late, so I decided it would be better to let you know when we were leaving.” She replied, hiding a teasing, know-it-all smile behind a farce of flippancy.

Danny groaned at her attempts to improve his punctuality—apparently, being overbearing now involved withholding vital information— and trailed behind her as she opened the door, his lower jaw swinging loosely on its hinges as the door did, at the firsthand view granted to him of the world beyond…

…The slight chill of mid-autumn fled back in time to the start of September to rush through Danny’s ill-prepared t-shirt and jeans and provoke an involuntary shudder. Jazz’s protective hand clenched firmly onto his wrist so as not to lose him, her free hand reaching to lock the door behind them. Icy blue eyes squinted harshly in the direction they needed to go, straining through the deep field of whiteness like the time he had tried on Tucker’s glasses for the heck of it. As Jazz fished a flashlight out of her schoolbag, they trudged carefully to the corner of their block…

…“Hey, you there!”

Danny froze as Jazz turned to point her flashlight in the direction of the siren lights, the large figure of a policemen striding towards them from across the road...’)

(Full story starts from beginning under cut)

The empty air shimmered, not a cloud in the sky, as the summer holidays reached their end. Amity Park remained—for the most part—plodding along the boundaries of mundanity (or… at least what remained mundane by Amity Park standards); parents treated their kids to their last weekday lunches at the cinemas or public pool, teenagers grumbled seemingly endless streams of complaints about their incomplete summer homework—all between the flurry of evacuations away from the daily ghost who decided to interrupt everyone’s fun.

Loud choruses—comprising more of exasperated sighs and angry diatribes than a cacophony of panic—exploded from the throats of passers-by as that annoying overall-clad spectre swiped all of the boxes from the local supermarket, or the sickly lime glow of a faded raccoon dashed down the streets, its tail rippling from fur to mist behind it. Any terrified screams—that the more violent ghostly destruction of overhead buildings elicited from civilians—quickly gave way to relieved cries and cheers as the familiar ebony and white blur of their town hero whipped into the offending ghost like a homing torpedo, flashing fists outstretched.

As the brawling duo of spectres threw each other across town, a throng of transfixed gazes followed. Avid fans stayed to track every powerful blow with their phones, while others nonchalantly turned back to their previous business as if the paranormal interruption had never occurred. With the inevitable pull-through of their ghostly protector, and the hasty response of the well-oiled machine that was the local paramedic corps, all casualties lay flat at a constant zero. After almost two years of adjusting to ghost attacks, Amity Park had established a comfortable routine—ghosts attacked, everyone evacuated, Danny Phantom swooped in to end the destruction and the injured were assisted, then get safely back along with your day. In the end, it never paid to worry; everything came out the other end okay, and the town remained safe. The morale in Amity mirrored the all-summer-long weather forecast—warm, bright and clear.

Their town hero couldn’t entirely agree as he ascended away from the battle, exhausted. Fatigue wore down at Danny like sandpaper on a knife blade, grinding him blunt and sending his energy into an insidious decline. However, for all it was worth, at least the routine never changed—at least, in the end, the weather he soared through prolonged in him a reminder of the town’s warm cheer and hope each time another ghost was taken care of; for all that he suffered, and all he was forced to lie, others remained safe because of him.

A deep groan cut through Danny as his mind decided to surprise him with the reminder of the hectic workload he would drown in as the school year began again. Hopefully, that safety and routine would at least make it easier—he begged that the morale from the summer would not peter out as its skies did…

He was wrong.

Everything turned upside down on the anniversary of the Accident.

Surprisingly, the event it commemorated was not the culprit; instead, it was the deciding moment that Danny woke up to tiredly yank back his curtains into the first school week of the year…

…and his eyes met the obstruction of a windowful of fog.

It wasn’t until the semi-rare encounter of all four Fentons at the breakfast table together that the weather change, bless Danny’s obliviousness, crossed his mind again.

“Yeah, I saw it out the window when I woke up, but I didn’t think it would be that bad.” Danny hummed with a frown as he flipped his remaining backpack strap over the other shoulder. “You’re not gonna be driving, are you?”

“Of course not!” His sister replied, aghast, “I’m going to walk this time. They’re starting school late to accommodate for the transportation hindrances.”

“And you didn’t tell me that earlier!?” he cried indignantly.

A dense, off-white mist engulfed the entire street like the stifling weight of a lead blanket, the houses across the street reduced to incomplete outlines and the asphalt of the road off of the footpath faint in the viewing distance. Fences, letterboxes and road signs short distances away had been almost, irony not unnoticed, turned into ghosts—fitting squarely into an ancient, redundant impression that Danny’s mind had rendered of the beings before he himself had become half of one; faded, unsolid wisps of what physically was, so scantly visible to the heavily relied upon sense of human sight that one might be of the impression it was hardly even there and nothing in the world could touch it. He almost imagined reaching out to the street sign on the corner and watching his fully tangible hand go straight through it.

The slight chill of mid-autumn fled back in time to the start of September to rush through Danny’s ill-prepared t-shirt and jeans and provoke an involuntary shudder. Jazz’s protective hand clenched firmly onto his wrist so as not to lose him, her free hand reaching to lock the door behind them. Icy blue eyes squinted harshly in the direction they needed to go, straining through the deep field of whiteness like the time he had tried on Tucker’s glasses for the heck of it. As Jazz fished a flashlight out of her schoolbag, they trudged carefully to the corner of their block.

Danny’s stomach dropped lower and lower, like a climber scraping down a flattened slope, with each step, a feeling as dense as the fog resting heavier in his legs. He gulped down a wave of uneasiness that begged for each gruelling minute to pass by more quickly, the very sight and feel of the fog setting off a primal buzz of warning in his chest. As they crossed the intersection at the next block, his racing heart was ready to snap—a scathing complaint about Jazz’s persistent grip on his wrist poised itself to leap from his lips, but muscular instinct tensed his mouth shut.

Red and blue beams flashed on an off on the corner of the crossing and intersected with the topaz glow of Jazz’s flashlight, shimmering clouds of condensation with the universally iconic colours of the law.

“Hey, you there!”

Danny froze as Jazz turned to point her flashlight in the direction of the siren lights, the large figure of a policemen striding towards them from across the road.

“Are you kids headed to Casper High?”

“Yes, sir.” Jazz replied politely, quickly yanking her hand off of Danny’s arm, “I can’t drive because of the fog.”

“Well, good thinking on your part—with that light, too.” He commented, his calm voice stiffening slightly, “Listen, the route to Casper had to change this morning—the road ahead is closed off; you’ll need to take a short detour down the next corner.”

“What’s the matter?” Jazz’s brow furrowed uneasily, “Did something happen?”

“That’s not for you kids to know—police business.” The man sighed calmly, “You just get on ahead to school, and don’t come down here on the way back in the afternoon, alright?”

Danny almost jumped as an irregular dance of footsteps and shaky groan drew closer to them from across the road.

“Ugggh, what an awful sight! How could somebody do this?! I’m sorry sir, I can’t handle this—AAAAAGGH!”

The officer rolled his eyes as a lanky figure in a suit and tie brushed past Danny with a strangled scream, the slow, stumbling gait transforming instantly into a crazed, almost drunken-looking rush down the street. A disgusting gurgling sound bubbled faintly out of an alleyway not far behind them. Danny flinched and Jazz’s lips contorted into a grimace.

“Dammit, Peterson what are you doing?!” the first policeman barked, “Why would you join the police in the first place if you’re that squeamish?!”

…Squeamish?

Once again, Danny’s instinct took a tight hold of his gut and thrashed it to hell as the sound of wet retching faded into an awkward pause.

“…Don’t mind him. He’s not really that…competent.” The officer ushered, pushing the two siblings hurriedly down the corner to the detour route, “Now, you two don’t have too much longer to get to school, so move it along.”

“Of course, sir…” Jazz defended with a surprised stutter at the forceful shove, “We’ll be on our way.”

Each second they walked away from the police dispatch dragged out into an eternity, the sounds of chatter and the flashing of the sirens fading away into still, eerie silence. The siblings held their proverbial breaths in tight chests as they reached the distance outside of the officers’ ear shots. Jazz turned to exchange glances with her brother, grabbing onto his wrist again and clenching tightly, her teal eyes holding an unsaid worry about the encounter she dared not speak aloud. Danny pulled away with an annoyed huff until she let go, his mind pounding him with a show of false bravado to combat the ton of unease that piled into his stomach like a vat of sludge. Jazz’s mouth eventually opened, with what remained of a desperate attempt to say something.

“…a cold morning and fog, during a warm start to September…? Did it rain last night and we never knew?”

One thing for certain crossed Danny’s mind as he started to lag behind her.

There was something about that fog that felt so wrong.

#danny phantom #ectoberweek2020 #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #jazz fenton #fog #this is one of the first times I've tried to write darker DP and the only one I've ever posted #these are the last words of a mad masochist going into Ectoberweek with no preparation rip me

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years

Text

15x10: The Heroes’ Journey

Then:

Heroes

Now:

Monster Fight Club! RAWR. In one corner we have wolf-man and in the other, we have wraith-woman. I felt like I was watching a Sci-fi channel show or another show on the CW with this opening scene. I have to give it up to the music and cinema of the sequence though. It’s quite lovely, even as the wolf-man gets stabbed to (near) death.

Meanwhile, in tiny Lebanon, Kansas, Dean’s picking up essentials (plus pie magazines) at his local Kwik Trip.

I have many things to say about this. First, who knew Lebanon had such tall buildings in it? And I’ve read many a comment about Bobo getting his name on something, and while YES, that’s technically true, this Kwik Trip (a real regional chain of gas stations/convenience stores in Wisconsin) is also named after the comedian behind The Manitowoc Minute, Charlie Berens. The Open sign missing the ‘n’ is a reference to it as well. Bless Jerry Wanek and his love for his home state. Anyway, Dean’s credit card is declined, his fight or flight instinct kicks in when faced with the store attendant's psoriasis, he gets a toothache, AND he gets a parking ticket.

Sam Fucking I Don’t Need Hotpads Winchester royally messes up dinner by burning the food, dropping the pasta all over the food, and breaking all the plates.

The weirdness continues once Dean gets home. Sam trips when running to greet him and he’s getting a cold.

Dean gets a call from Garth who needs some help. On the road, they discuss their Very Bad Day. Dean thinks they’re cursed. Sam’s too busy sneezing to contribute. I’m surprised Dean didn’t make him sit in the backseat. (Did Dean seem sarcastically unhappy about Cas seeking out angel help? #missinghusbandhour). Then the ultimate travesty happens: Baby breaks down.

They have to walk the last ten miles to Garth’s. When they make it, he welcomes them with open arms (Sam declines the hug but Dean gets one and a compliment -- “You smell so good.”)

Garth was previously feeding his twin baby boys, and he takes them to meet his children. He has a daughter, Gertie, and twin boys, Sam (named after Sam) and...Castiel. Dean is confused and disappointed. I love how there’s no explanation as to why Dean didn’t get a namesake. Natasha wrote a thing though.

Garth then takes them to see why he called. Bess’s cousin is unconscious on Gertie’s bed. He has wraith cuts all over his body.

Dean, the candy eating monster that he is, nabs some candy beans from Gertie’s dresser and Garth notices his pained reaction to eating them. Dean makes note of how nice Garth’s home and life are. (SOFT) Sam sneezes again and Bess tells him she has something to help.

Beth hands Sam her family concoction for helping the common cold. Sam downs it in one go --and instantly has regrets. It’s mostly cayenne pepper. Wherps. Sidenote: Gertie’s little wolf stuffy. All the hearts!

Poor Sam really goes through something --and it is a sight to see. Little Sam and Little Cas are sympathy crying with him and he tries to reassure them that “Big Sam’s okay.” He’s really not.

Garth asks about Dean’s teeth and Dean confesses they’ve hurt since the previous day.

Garth takes Dean to his basement dentist office. It seems he finished getting his dental degree and is now a dentist for other werewolves. “Fang maintenance is a B.” He assesses Dean’s mouth and finds 17 cavities!

He rolls out the nitrous oxide and gets to work. We get to stay with Dean though, AND GOOD FUCKING CHUCK ON A CRACKER.

I can’t explain what I witnessed with my own two eyes. I really, really can’t. @neven-ebrez had a great thread on Twitter that I fully love.

In any event, Dean tap dances to Cole Porter’s Let’s Misbehave. Garth starts showing him the ropes, but then he takes over on his own and starts dancing with a light stick LAMP. He blows a kiss at the lamp and ascends a stairway to heaven the top of the map table and finishes his dance. They dedicated almost 2 minutes to this scene. I --I just. can’t. Also, Dean going for the lamp is timed to line up with the “lovebirds” lyric? I’m so very tired.

Anyway, Dean comes to with a mouth full of gauze, and presumably no cavities.

Everyone reconvenes in the Fitzgerald’s living room. Garth wants to know what’s happening. Sam tells him that they’re kind of on the outs with God. Garth realizes that they’ve been the heroes of Chuck’s stories, and wonders, “what’s that make me? A supporting character? A special guest star?” Garth's happy being the guest star. Being the hero is the worst. Their lives are going to suck until the end. Also, little vanilla couple Garth and Bess apparently love 50 Shades. Lol. Garth points out that the hero never sweats the small stuff because that stuff ruins the story. They’re normal now. (Dean suggests cursed, which, like, lol bud, normal people's lives just suck.)

Bess’s cousin calls for her and they all rush to his side. He doesn’t want to talk to hunters. Sam turns on the ol’ puppy dog eyes and….it does nothing. In fact, Brad can hardly believe that that shtick works at all. Ooof. Bummer, Sammy. Bess digs into the wraith wound to get some answers. And ugh. That was squishy grossness. Brad starts talking about the monster fights though. He tells them where to find the place.

The Winchesters bid Garth farewell. Garth is VERY WORRIED about them. “The old Sam and Dean” could handle a whole warehouse of monsters but the Supernormally Normal boys don’t stand a chance. Dean’s resolute. Fighting monsters, righting wrongs? That’s just who they are. Dean implores Garth to stay home with his wife and kids, and the Winchesters head off.

They arrive at midday outside the arena. Dean polishes off his SEVENTH grilled cheese sandwich and they gather weaponry to storm the place. Sam’s concerned that Garth’s theory that the Winchesters are normal is correct, and they need to take precautions. They gather extra ammo, dead man’s blood, and Dean pulls out his beloved precious weapon.

Upon entering, Sam immediately trips noisily over a bucket and Dean’s grilled cheese extravaganza decides to throw a party right back into his mouth. Dean races for a bathroom, leaving Sam to peruse the room holding the main fight cage.

While Dean is throwing up in the toilet, I desperately try to pretend this isn’t happening. I’m FINE with entrails but upchuck is a hard no, apparently. The bathroom stall opens and one of the monsters from the cold open’s fight night stands there, training Dean’s grenade launcher on him.

Sam and Dean end up locked in the cage-match cage (not to be confused with the CAGE cage). The monster, Cutty, owns the fight club. “Man? Monster? They’re at their best, their most pure, in the heat of competition.” Pardon me while I fake cough “Purgatory” for twenty-five minutes.

Cutty introduces them to their new friend, Maul, a huge monster who grimaces gloomily and flexes his muscles. He wants the Winchesters to fight Maul (together) in the cage match that evening.

Dean tries to tell a story to get out of the situation and I HAVE NEVER BEEN PROUDER. He draws on their legends - the mighty creatures they’ve taken down - and questions whether any MERE monster should even think about trying to attack them. Nobody’s buying what he’s selling.

A short commercial for the upcoming cage match plays. It’s….

AMAZING

All the monsters are gathered around, ready to watch the two mighty cage matches. KILLER WRAITH versus JAMAICA DJINN and MIGHTY MAUL versus THE WINCHESTERS!!!

It’s battle royale time, motherfuckers. When the first fight begins, Dean and Sam are locked up in cells just outside of the ring. “Just how I wanted to die,” Dean grouses. “With a freakin’ audience.” We shall not speak of the 200+ times we have witnessed Dean die on this show.

Dean pulls a nail from the ceiling and proceeds to try to pick the lock. He…fails. Miserably. Sam gives it a try on his lock and neither of them can pick it.

“Could we ever actually pick locks?” Sam asks, frustrated. I’m with others in guessing that both their natural and learned skills have been hugely demoted through Chuck’s interference and this downturn won’t last. But this is a great way to make them doubt themselves. This is the black moment in the hero’s journey - at least for this episode. They’ve never doubted themselves more! Dean delivers a stirring speech anyway. “We’re the best in the world. I say we go out there. We kick some ass.”

Cutty returns to fetch the Winchesters. “Shirts off,” he demands on the way. EYEBALLS EMOJI. But Sam and Dean are gone, the cage doors wide open! The episode rewinds, this time with another point of view. Who’s that lanky man in the floppy-eared hat walking through the crowd? It’s everyone’s favorite werewolf hero, that’s who. Garth frees them by just…BUSTING off the lock.

Outside, Sam and Dean are ready to flee. But Garth has other plans. He whips out a detonator and we get a quick clip show of Garth planting C4 around the club. The club is DECIMATED by fire. Maul survives, however, and strides out of the burning building. Garth goes up against him, but Maul knocks him out. Sam and Dean stand and face Maul, despite their low, low expectations of themselves. Like real damn heroes!

What follows is a HIGHLY comical fight. Sam and Dean do their absolute, precious best, but fortunately the fight seems to be operating on some modified Looney Toons rules.

Garth saves them with a machete through Maul’s head. “You got Garthed!”

Back at Garth’s home, Dean and Sam cradle the babies. “This Cas keeps looking at me weird,” Dean notes. “So kinda like the real Cas,” Sam says. OH SAM. OH SHOW. How we are blessed!

They head out, Dean clutching a bag of grilled cheese sandwiches from Bess. Sam and Dean thank Garth for saving them and call him a hero. Excuse me while I CRY FOR FIVE MINUTES this is so soft. “I guess I learned from the best,” Garth returns. Garth gives them a tip - a place in Alaska where you can go when your luck’s run bad. “There’s always a catch,” Garth warns.

They hug!

“You don’t smell so bad yourself,” Dean notes when he hugs Garth. “It’s Hai Karate,” Garth says. Guys. I love them.

Werewolves of London plays us out. Garth and Bess dance together through the window as the Winchesters get into the Impala. It’s. So. Precious. And. Warm.

“I always thought I could be a good dancer if I wanted to be,” Dean muses. Sam admits that Dean’s good at the Macarena. Ah, yes. My generation!

Dean and Sam reflect on their situation. Their lives are far from normal, so being “normal” is dangerous by its very nature. They need as many advantages as possible, so it’s time for a road trip to Alaska!

The music mounts dramatically! Triumphantly! It’s time to ride into the sunset!

Baby sputters out. “Son of a bitch!” Dean shouts as the screen fades to black.

Natasha: I can tell you IMMEDIATELY and WITHOUT RESERVATION that this episode is going to be on my short list of comfort rewatches for all eternity. <3

Werewolves of Quotedom:

Seriously?

Still a hugger, huh?

You smell so good!

You’re very strong

Fang maintenance is a B

Mommy, the giant’s crying!

I wanna be the guest star. Being the hero sucks.

You need a colonoscopy STAT

Just because God yanked the magic horseshoe out of our ass, doesn’t mean we’re gonna give up

I’m a growing boy!

I think you might be lactose intolerant now

You keep all your friends in a cage?

You know them. You don’t like them. The WINCHESTERS

You are SO STRONG

C4, a hunter’s best friend

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn 15x10 #the heroes journey #dean winchester #sam winchester #garth #supernatural season 15

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inkslingerharry · 5 years

Text

Reindeer on the Roof?

Description: Y/N lives above Harry and loves to blast Christmas music. What happens when Harry marches upstairs to confront her, but finds himself highly intrigued?

Word count: 2,145

This is technically Day 6 of the 25 Days of Christmas.

Thank you so much to @alwaysjacked-up for doing this Christmas writing event!! Thank you for letting me be a part of it!! Check out the rest of the authors and the 25 Days of Christmas masterlist here and my other writing here. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

(I also wrote this in a little over an hour with very little editing so please be kind lol)

Six days. Six days in a row that the person living above Harry has been blasting Christmas music. He’s listened to “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” and “All I Want for Christmas Is You” about a million times in the past week alone. He was already on edge because he wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas this year with flights being cancelled and plans just not working out.

He wasn’t fully against Christmas music; in fact, he loved Christmas music. Just not blasting loud enough to hear above his apartment. Someone was a little too into their Christmas cheer. Harry groaned when “Let It Snow” started again. The person didn’t even have the decency to switch playlists, a crime Harry could not forgive.

As he tried finishing another last-minute email, Harry typed away, closing his eyes in frustration when all he could focus on was the laughter and tunes coming from above.

“That’s it,” he grumbled to himself, closing his laptop with too much force, slipping on some tennis shoes and grabbing his phone and keys. He stepped out of his apartment, locking his place briskly before walking to the staircase.

Just as he was about to ascend, he stopped with one foot on the first stair. Silence. The only sound was his breathing and a door faintly closing in the distance. He cherished the moment, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a few seconds before hearing a cough behind him.

“Oh, sorry,” he muttered, stepping out of the way of an older man carrying a few grocery bags.

Harry waited a few more quick seconds before continuing on his journey. He started a script of what he was going to say to the noisy neighbor. As he walked a little ways down the hallway, he hesitated in front of the door where the music was coming from. “Frosty the Snowman” was heard throughout the entire hallway.

Harry could also hear people singing inside. He instantly felt guilt swarm through him. These people were having fun and enjoying themselves and he was about to ruin that because he needed to write a few emails.

Important emails, Harry thought to himself. He raised his hand and brought a knuckle to the door, hitting it a few times. The music didn’t falter, and the laughter didn’t die down. After waiting a few seconds, Harry rolled his eyes and brought his fist up, giving a few harder knocks. Again, nothing seemed to change.

Just as he was about to bring his fist up again, anger evident in his actions, the door swung open, revealing a woman in one of the ugliest sweaters Harry has ever seen. With lights and bells, the horrendous green and red sweater hung around the body of the woman standing in front of him. She hesitated, eyeing Harry.

“Hey, I don’t mean to be rude, but-” Harry started, but was soon interrupted by the woman’s face lighting up, a smile wide on her face and her eyebrows raised.

“You must be the judge! Come in, come in!” she reached forward, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him inside her apartment. “We’ve been waiting for you. I thought Marco told you to be here at six? Ah, whatever, we’ve busied ourselves. You’re not very festive are you?”

“What?” Harry exclaimed.

“It’s an ugly sweater party!” She laughed, looking at his attire. “Oh well. We have white wine, which is almost gone, some red wine, and I might have a few beers in the fridge. What do you want?”

Harry couldn’t speak. How could he? He was just about to scold this woman for playing Christmas music loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear, now he’s in her apartment and she’s offering him a drink? What went wrong?

She noticed Harry’s hesitance. “I’ll get you a water. Everyone else is in the living room, so find a place to sit!” she ordered, leaving his side to head to the kitchen.

Harry watched as she left, his feet carrying him throughout her apartment. Every surface seemed to be covered in pictures of, what he assumed, her friends and family. There were a couple frames filled with her holding dogs, children, or other people. She was smiling or making a funny face in every single one.

By the time he made it to the living room, Harry had skimmed over every wall in sight. He looked at the four other people in the living room. Their faces were flushed with laughter and wine. Two people sat on the floor in front of a coffee table, and the other two sat on a couch. Everyone clearly drank their fair share of wine.

“Oh, the judge is here! What’s your name again?” a woman sitting on the couch asked, lifting her wine glass to her lips.

“Uh, Harry,” he responded.

“Great! Take a seat in this chair! We’re going to start soon, once Y/N gets back.”

“Y/N?”

“You know, the girl who owns the place?” she laughed.

Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded. He made his way to the recliner, having to step over a bottle of wine and a few hand-made, paper snowflakes on the way. Harry sat, glancing around the room. More pictures of Y/N crowded their way into the space around him. He noticed that a lot of the pictures held the faces of the same people who sat in front of him.

“You don’t look familiar,” a guy sitting on the floor giggled. He was very clearly the most drunk.

“Marco! He’s the judge you picked out.”

“Hm, don’t think so. I wouldn’t pick him out, not for the judge anyway. Maybe for something else,” Marco winked at Harry, causing a deep red to creep up his neck and onto his cheeks. He also gave a small smile.

“Marco, stop flirting, now hand out the paints,” Y/N playfully snapped, handing the glass of water in her hand to Harry. He graciously accepted it, taking a big gulp right away to soothe his dry throat.

“What am I judging, exactly?” Harry asked, wiping the condensation from the water onto his pants.

“We’re following a Bob Ross painting tutorial,” Y/N answered, accepting a basket of paint tubes from Marco. “He really didn’t tell you anything, huh?”

Harry shook his head and took a deep breath. He watched as each person readied their canvas and paint brushes. The television next to him started up, a Bob Ross episode already waiting on Netflix.

The episode started, each person suddenly extremely focused, their paint brushes swishing to and fro. Harry watched intently, his attention specifically focusing on Y/N. She furrowed her eyebrows and flicked her wrist just right as her eyes stayed on the television. The faint lights from her sweater gave her chin and cheeks a light red tint, her double chin showing up once in a while when she was confused.

By the end of the episode, Harry had memorized her face. He felt like he could recognize her just by her eyes. Her face was like a map, and Harry could mark every contour. He can’t believe he’s never seen her around before, despite her living directly above him.

“Alright, judge, your time to shine,” she smiled, giving light blows to her painting so it would dry faster.

Harry coughed, leaving his trance. He sat up straighter and took another sip of water before setting it down on the coffee table. As he looked at each painting and compared them to Bob Ross’s, he took his job very seriously. Even though he wasn’t the actual judge, he knew that the people in front of him were competitive, and winning this painting contest means winning the world.

His eyes landed on Y/N’s, admiring the little details she was able to squeeze in, like a dusty layer of snow on trees and a reflection of light on the frozen lake. He wasn’t sure if he was hyperaware of how good her painting was because she was actually an amazing painter or because of his undeniable developing crush on her.

“So, boss, who’s the winner?” Marco asked, his words slurred together.

Harry pretended to think about it before shaking his head. “It’s hard, but I think I have to go with Y/N.”

Marco rolled his eyes and started laughing. Two girls started clapping and another guy, who seemed to be the quietest out of everyone, finished his glass of wine with a single chug. Y/N smugly grinned as she pretended to flip her hair over her shoulder dramatically.

“Should’ve known,” Elizabeth, the other person sitting on floor, chuckled.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Y/N is a fucking artist,” the other guy in the room answered. “See these paintings and drawings all over her walls? She did them herself.”

Harry scanned the room, taking in each and every piece of art. He noticed them before, and did admire them; however, now that he knew they were done by Y/N, he let his eyes linger longer.

“Oh, hush, stop embarrassing me,” Y/N said, casting her eyes to the ground as she shyly smiled. A blush was evident on her face.

“They’re really good. I didn’t know,” Harry complimented, making eye contact with Y/N. “Are you a professional?”

She scoffed and waved her hand. “Hell no. I mean, I do some commissions, but I’m just a receptionist at a gym. Art doesn’t pay the bills unless you have a big name.”

Harry nodded, completely understanding. Just as he was about to make another comment, people started gathering their items, mentioning stuff about heading home and sleeping. Harry didn’t realize how dark the sky had gotten since he arrived.

Marco was the last to leave, pecking Y/N’s cheek and hugging her goodbye. He quickly waved to Harry before slipping on his coat and closing Y/N’s door behind him. Harry was left alone with Y/N.

“You weren’t the judge, were you?” Y/N asked after a few seconds of silence.

Harry laughed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “No.”

“Why did you come to my place, then?”

“I came up here to complain about your loud Christmas music. You do realize it’s been six days of nonstop Christmas music you’ve been playing? Six bloody days,” he smiled.

Y/N crossed her arms. “Well, damn, you really aren’t festive. Wait, do you live here?”

“Right below you,” Harry tapped his foot on the floor.

“Oh. Well, I’m only slightly sorry. Shouldn’t you be home for Christmas anyway? Or does your family live near here?”

“Nah, plans didn’t work out so I’m stuck here. My, myself, and I on Christmas this year,” he said, making his way to her door.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Y/N said, her voice genuine.

Harry shrugged. “It sucks, but not much I can do about it.”

Y/N agreed, making more small talk with Harry before he reached for the door handle, mentioning how he should be leaving. He thanked her for an amazing night, despite him originally showing up to complain.

“I will say that you have the most disgusting sweater I’ve seen in a long time, though,” Harry snickered.

Y/N gasped, reaching forward and giving a quick slap to Harry’s arm as she laughed. “How dare you! I had to dig through two tubs of clothes before I found this, thank you very much.”

Harry laughed, crinkling his eyes and throwing his head back. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he said before leaving her apartment. As he walked down the hallway, he waited for the sound of her door closing, but it never came.

“Hey,” he heard a soft yell come from down the hall. Harry turned back around.

Y/N was standing in front of him, her arms crossed again. “I’m going to be here for Christmas, too. It’s just going to be me, myself, and probably my vibrator.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he opened his mouth in surprise.

Y/N shook her head and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, that was crude, but I’m a little drunk. Anyway, you’re welcome to join me. I promise I won’t use my vibrator in front of you. Just bring a nice bottle of wine and like, something to eat, yeah?”

“I’d love that,” Harry smiled, licking his lips.

Y/N nodded and started to turn. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry nodded and turned again, descending the stairs. A smile was plastered on his face the entire way back to his own apartment. As he arrived to his door, unlocking it and stepping inside, he grinned even wider when he heard Mariah Carey’s voice coming from above. He was more optimistic and couldn’t wait for the upcoming holiday, ready to spend Christmas with his new friend.

#kris writing #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #fluff #harry styles fluff #one direction imagine #one direction #one direction preference #25 days of christmas #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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larosepompon · 5 years

Text

Almost There - Ghost!Jungwoo x Reader

Hi all - have some paranormal fluff (I know - for once I’m not writing anything gory or dirty?? Christ on a Bike!) of a 90s ghost Jungwoo who resides in your apartment block. A/N: A lot of the instances that I used in the story are things that often happened to me in my old family home. (obvs not making out with a ghost lol) We had a benevolent poltergeist that used to take pens and pencils and put them on top of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, turn lights on and off and pull out books from the bookshelf outside my room etc. If you want to know more about random crap that’s happened to me - send me an ask! Ghosties and the paranormal are my favourite discussion topics! Our story starts as many of these tales do; in a new apartment in a new city. Neo City’s downtown was conversely a mixture of old and new, for example, your apartment complex that was in a listed period building. Climbing the chequered-tile stairs, you carefully ascended to the third floor with the last of your moving boxes. Blowing some strands of hair out of your eyes, you caught a glimpse over your box of someone at the end of the hallway, watering plants under the stained-glass window. “Hi, nice to meet you!” Voicing out cheerfully as you bent down to put the box by your front door. Your smile faltering when the figure was already gone as you looked back up. Odd was the first thought in your head, patting your cheeks lightly to regain a sense of normality.

The rest of the move went rather smoothly, digging out some old cassette tapes and vinyl’s, singing softly to old tunes as you hung pictures up on the teal walls, arranged soft furnishings and house plants around your large studio. Soon the light dimmed down and you found yourself sitting on the bench of your tall bay window – the feature that drew you to this particular flat in the first place. The sun cast her last golden rays as she bid you goodnight, bathing your limbs and face in a radiant warmth. The ice in your glass protesting as it began to melt, condensation pooling atop of your knee where your beverage was perched. Closing your eyes, you sighed with content, finally relaxing in a space you could finally call your own. Perhaps an hour or so went by with you nursing your drink and humming along to music from your childhood, when you heard a distinct knock at your door. Maybe it’s one of my neighbours you thought, padding over to unlock it. The hallway though, was empty, save for a small breeze that carried a sweet and green scent. “That’s the second time today… you can say hello if you want!” You call out into the hallway, seemingly at nobody. Letting some of the tension out of your shoulders as you close the door, you decide to get ready for bed after your long day. It’s not long until you’re wiping your face after brushing your teeth, making your way over to your comfy new bed, slipping under the covers. As you drift off to sleep, the bed dips and in comes the sweet fragrance once more. You dream of a handsome boy with curtains.

You’re thoroughly puzzled, looking for your toothbrush the next morning. It wasn’t until you looked up and it was placed on top of the medicine cabinet that you thought you had gone crazy. You had only one drink the previous night and had never been known to sleepwalk. Glancing at your reflection with a furrowed brow, all the rational thoughts go through your mind before ignoring it altogether. Today was your first full day living in the city, so you set off to explore new cafes, shops and relaxing spots. It was another sunny day, with a gentle breeze that ruffled your hair from time to time – making for the perfect day to watch the world go by. Well, that was what you had planned anyhow, if not for every café that you fancied being packed out. “Right, let’s not let this ruin our day…” you sigh under your breath, scanning your surroundings for something to take home. Settling on an artisan bakery with luscious pastries and sourdough in the window, you eyed up a few treats to pack up with you. Luckily the walk home was quite short, letting you take time to stroll through the bustling streets before reaching your new abode. As you fished for your keys in the depths of your bag nearing the landing, your peripheral view caught something that made you stop dead in your tracks: the back of someone’s frame going into your apartment, through your door. Scrambling to see if they had broken in, a wave of panic spread through you as your eyes scanned the – very closed – door. Your hand couldn’t help but shake lightly when your keys eased into the lock, making way for your entry. Flattening your palm to the surface, you pushed open the door, bracing yourself for what could be inside. Yet you found nothing… “Hello?! I-I j-just saw you come in here.” You blurt out into the space around you. “Is anybody there?” It was difficult to think yourself stupid at that very moment in time, heart hammering away in your chest, bravely trying to speak out at seemingly nothing. Luckily for you, a studio apartment leaves very little space for anyone (or anything) to hide in - so you eventually found yourself dropping your bags on the kitchen counter and scampering over to the bathroom to check for any strangers. Relief settled in when you found that indeed, nobody has broken into your apartment. Your eyes homed into your bedspread - with a single flowerhead lain on top of it. Like the ones in the hall… you remember, thoughts conflicting over whether this was a new-found stalker or something paranormal leaving you gifts on your bed. Still trembling, you carefully trod toward your bed, hair spilling over your shoulders as you leant down to pick up the flower. The petals a soft creamy colour, wrinkled at the edges, giving them an almost forlorn look to them. You thumbed the petals absentmindedly, all previous ill thoughts dissipating from your mind bringing a soft smile to your features. “Thank you…” you whispered into the air, a faded image of a tall, pretty boy smiling by your wall.

For about a week you see or hear no sign of ghostly activity in your home or about the hallway, but often find yourself dreaming of the mystery boy with a bright smile and a very floppy, 90s haircut. You don’t recall ever meeting anyone like him before, often showing up in your dreams with ripped jeans and a check shirt or a denim jacket; he always appeared very friendly though. One night you hear his voice for the first time, a gentle tone that lulls you further into your slumber. Little did you know that the boy was sat beside you, smiling down at your sleeping figure, listening to your mumbled voice and quiet sighs as he stroked your hair as best as he could. You awoke feeling refreshed, recalling snippets from your dream while you poured yourself a fresh coffee. Pulling your hair into a high bun, you took your coffee to your sofa, lounging back to watch some mindless morning TV. After a while, when the black liquid in your mug had cooled, you felt a tingling sensation on your shoulder – followed by your pyjama top strap falling down. You went to pull it up again but the area felt unusually cold, with the tingling pressure now on your jaw. As if someone was cupping or stroking your face. For a moment you didn’t know how to react, turning your head slowly to the space beside you and noticing a small dip in the cushion. Your mouth was ajar in wonder, eyes drifting over what looked like an empty space in front of you. Somehow you knew it wasn’t at all. Closing your eyes, you leant into the feeling, letting the ghostly touch brush your lips and pull a soft smile from you. At least they seem affectionate your mind rings with the thoughts of dozens of scary movies depicting evil spirits. Your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the low lighting again, the odd sensation beginning to feel warm on your cheek and jaw. “Are you the boy from my dreams?” your voice came out barely louder than a whisper, scared to frighten whatever this was off. The touch stilled, as if unsure or surprised before retreating altogether. The sofa cushion slowly rose back to normal and you could only sigh. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all. Gripping his hand close to his chest, the young man all but backed out of your apartment, cheeks both burning with embarrassment and a new resolve. He wanted you to notice him.

your new job as a manager really took it out of you some days. While living in Neo City was great, you felt yourself getting more and more strung out with less time to make friends outside of the office, which also meant less time for yourself and relaxing at home. You had learnt to live with the occasional odd poltergeist activity or random noise in your apartment - having become an interesting and almost normal feature of living in your building. The unknown boy in your dreams becoming a weekly occurrence, your mind kept on wondering if he had any connection to what happened around you. His voice had such a soft lilt to it, laughter sincere and loud when the odd bits of your dream resurfaced in your mind. Fragments of conversation and cracking corny puns together often made you wake up with a smile, that lingering scent of Verbena hung in the air like tendrils. The late August air draped over your shoulders with humidity, a moist sheen cloying to your every pore like a second skin. Buying a wireless plug for your aircon was your saving grace, programming it to come on 20 minutes before you usually walked through the door in the evening to escape the heat. Shutting the door quickly behind you, toeing off your shoes haphazardly before throwing your bag down onto the sofa, you headed to the bathroom for a much-welcomed cool shower. The refreshing spray of water leaving your skin raised and pert to the breeze of the A/C. Towelling yourself off by your bed, you felt the barest of touches run down your back before settling at your sides, holding you steady. Letting out a quiet gasp, you finished drying yourself, playing off the touch as just the breeze from the aircon unit. Standing unbeknownst behind you, a shy smile was painted on the features of your boy with the floppy hair as he watched you fondly put on your pyjamas. Later that night around 1am when you were fast asleep, the dulcet tones of Madonna from your cassette player broke through the silence of your apartment, causing you to stir. Groggily opening your eyes, you watched in amazement as the bed dipped beside you like someone had knelt down. You blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t still dreaming, but when an almost glowing apparition materialised into view, it was hard to say. There in front of you, leaning on his arm, was your weekly dream visitor. He appeared in muted colour, his smile and his boyish looks shining through the night as he gave a little nervous laugh at your expression. “It really is you!” You exclaimed, smile widening at the sight of the boy. Shuffling back a little, you sat up in bed, taking in all of him better. “It’s taken a lot of energy for me to appear like this, but I wanted for you to see me properly. I’m sorry it took so long.” His voice was so sweet, like honey as he spoke to you in the dark of your studio. “My name is Jungwoo, I used to live here – I’m sorry If I ever scared you! I’ve been wanting to say that for a while.” His eyes went wide as you could see the faintest trace of a blush on his faded appearance. “You’ve never really scared me, Jungwoo. I was confused at first but when I got used to you trying to catch my attention, I felt warm and happy that I had you here sometimes. You gave me the flower too, right?” Jungwoo nodded and watched your eyes sparkle under the moonlight streaming through your window. He thought you looked magical like this. Your warm hand reached out to see if you could cup his cheek and to your surprise, he felt soft and solid enough to touch. Upon contact with him, a rush of tingles zipped up your arm, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Jungwoo bravely pressed a kiss into your palm as you sat there admiring each other. “I’m y/n, I don’t know if you knew that already or not though.” The heat of your blush crept up your neck and face as you felt his lips on your palm. His eyes focused on yours as he reached up to hold your hand. “I knew, I saw it on your mail once. It’s such a pretty name for a pretty face~” Jungwoo’s giggle melts your heart, his lips brushing your knuckles cradled in his hands. “I don’t know if I’ll get another chance to say this but being here with you these last few months - I’ve really begun to like you y/n! I really love seeing you dance and sing in here, I love sitting beside you watching movies…but I do feel sad that I couldn’t wipe your tears when you cry. When you started noticing things I did, or talking to me in your sleep, it made my whole being so happy.” With his little confession, you shed a few tears, laughing through the sparkling wall they created in your vision. All this time you had been sleep-talking to him, the dreams of the boy all in his image. Gingerly, you pulled Jungwoo towards yourself, bringing his airy lips to slot against your own. Your spine tingled and skin raised as his hands carded through your hair, pulling you closer in his embrace. It was both wonderful and odd, kissing a ghost. He seemed solid enough to be there yet it was like thick air, holding you and invading your mouth with his cool, equally tingly tongue. He broke the kiss to dab his thumbs on your cheeks, before pecking them both softly. “I knew you meant no harm when I saw the flower on my bed that day. It made me feel wanted, as strange as that sounds. Thank you, Jungwoo, I really like you too.” Barely above a whisper, your words were just made for the two of you. His cheeks felt soft and your eyelids fluttered closed as you joined your mouths together again. Time was a precious gift, not knowing when you’d share another moment like this, you both made the most of the early hours of the morning. Sharing secrets and moments of your lives, facing each other against the pillows watching intently. Every so often indulging in more languid kisses and touches under the moonlight. The boy stroked your hair once again as he saw you eventually fall asleep, the sunrise not far behind your slumber. You awoke some hours later, the sun warm on your skin as it peered through your window, high in the sky. Hair and sleepwear feeling slightly dishevelled, you noticed that Jungwoo had kindly tucked you back under the covers. You suddenly felt a little morose at the thought of an undetermined time without being able to share another moment like that with your spectre again. Trying to push such thoughts from your mind, your arm stretched across the covers in aid to wake up when you came into contact with something. Fumbling for it further, your eyes crinkled with joy when you discovered it was a note that read: To the beautiful y/n, I feel alive again. I’ll still be here now and then, until the next time I can capture your kiss. Talking properly with you made me so happy, but I didn’t want to be too selfish and not let you rest. Keep playing the tunes of my time, singing to yourself – oh and wandering around in your underwear. 정우 xx You wet your lip with your tongue before giving an indignant huff. Well, he better be glad it’s summer…

#jungwoo scenario #jungwoo x reader #nct fluff #nct fanfiction #kim jungwoo #junguwu #paranormal #ghost!au #jungwoo imagine #cute #NCT 127

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yoongi-sugaglider · 6 years

Text

Forget Me Nots

A wealthy young man falls overboard while vacationing with friends only to find himself with amnesia and a pretty young wife who seems determined to remind him what hard work and dedication really mean.

Warnings: Strong language, angry Min Yoongi inaccurately portrayed based upon the writer’s imagination,angst, eventual super fluff.

Pairing: Eventual Min Yoongi x reader

Word count:2695

A/n:So here we have a fresh new fluff chapter~ I was so trying to aim for angst and failed because this story makes me so soft lol. Anyway, the pups mentioned in this chapter are based off of real pups. Champion aka Thunderchicken is based on my three legged Shepherd and Kaia is based on an old friend’s doggo. That being said I will post a picture at the end of the chapter of Champ just to endulge in bragging over my precious boy~ I hope you all enjoy this go round and if you like it let me know~ I thrive on your opinions~

<<Chapter 6---Chapter Eight>>

It had begun raining by the time they managed to make it to her home. The discharge itself had gone smoothly enough. Though a mountain of paperwork had been signed and an hour long wait in the pharmacy for Yoongi’s medication had left them both in a foul mood, everything had gone off without a hitch.

“So...this is home?” The sound of Yoongi’s hesitant words snapped y/n out of her thoughts and she turned to him, her lips turned up into a halfway convincing smile.

“Yea it is. I...I mean we, have been living here for the last 4 years. The rent isn’t too bad, and the neighborhood is nice and quiet so we don’t have to worry about any trouble from the neighbors or anything.”

He nodded, eyes searching the faded yellow paint that covered the facade of the house as if looking for something familiar. The house itself was modest, white trim covering the sills and siding of the roof. The overhang of the porch sagged a bit to the side, leaning as if burdened by the weight of many years of neglect and time. Two weathered wicker chairs stood just to the side of the cream colored front door, looking as if they saw pretty regular use for relaxation on cool summer nights.

His eyes scanned the aged roof, frowning at the beat up look of it. He had a feeling it leaked when it rained and somehow that unsettled him a bit. The front yard itself was small but just beneath the porch there grew several flower beds, all filled with vibrant signs of life in the form of flowers blooming in all shades. For a moment he watched as a butterfly flew from flower to flower, drinking delicately the nectar of life before his eyes returned to his companion’s….wife’s nervous stare.

“Is everything okay?” Her trembling voice filled the car and he cringed at the sound of worry that blended into a pain that crept into his chest at the regret of having made her feel this way.

“It’s fine. I’m just...trying to remember.” His frown lightened a bit and quickly eased into a lighter smile. “I’m fine.” He sent her a reassuring smile, his hand coming to the door handle and tugging at it. “Let’s get inside huh? My head’s starting to ache a bit and I’m kind of starving.” He chuckled, pulling at the door handle again. “No matter how much hospital food a man eats in there you never really get full on it huh?” He tugged at the door handle again, frowning at it as once again it refused to budge.

“Oh, ah.” Y/n reached across him, gently brushing aside his fingers before slowly pulling the door handle up and towards her. “It kinda sticks, you gotta pull up before you pull it towards you.”

He jolted a bit as the door swung open, another frown lighting his face as he stared down at the handle. “Huh…” He huffed as he stepped out of the vehicle, pausing for a moment as the world swirled around. The doctor had mentioned that he’d have to fight a bit with vertigo before it faded away.

Shaking off the feeling he slammed the door behind him, jogging lightly to catch up with y/n as she ascended the front 3 steps.

“Careful on that middle one, it’s old and I swear it’s going to cave in one of these days.” She turned to give him a small smile as her fingers pushed the house key into the lock. “One of these days I’m going to get around to fixing it. I’ve just been so busy what with tourist season and work and..ah...eh…” She shrugged noncommittally.

She held her breath, steeling herself with a silent prayer to the heavens that her friends had come through for her. She was quickly reassured though when she opened the front door and stepped into the entryway that lead to the living room.

Yoongi stepped in behind her, eyes alert as he looked desperately for something familiar.

The living room was modest enough, the pale yellow that’d covered the front of the home continuing on inside. The warm glow of afternoon light that streamed through the front window now that the rain had stopped lent the room a welcoming vibe that instantly set him at ease as it really felt like home. The furniture was older, seeming to be different types of thrift shop finds.

A worn couch sat in the middle of the room, flanked by a waist high end table behind it that was covered in several small animal figurines of various types of blown glass and two small yacht models. The coffee table that stood just before the couch was covered in magazines of different types as well as two coffee mugs that stood atop what looked to be coasters with yachts on them similar to the two figurines. A modest flat screen hung from the wall, slightly crooked in its mount and blankly reflecting the room back at him.

He stared a moment in the reflection of the tv, taking in his fresh out of the hospital look. A loose black jacket covered his thin shoulders, matching black jeans with rips in the knees and a white mask that he’d gotten off one of the nurses just before he’d been discharged hugged the curve of his chin.His hair hung lank and limp in his eyes, a shade of minty green that he frowned deeply at as if it didn’t fit right.

His eyes continued to search for familiarity in the room as y/n set down her keys on the end table beside one of the tiny yachts. He noted the pairs of shoes by the door, several that looked like they belonged to her along with a pair of work boots that were covered in dried mud and a pair of black tennis shoes that looked like they could have belonged to him.

Y/n padded over to him, having kicked off her shoes in favor of a pair of comfortable looking slippers. She held out a pair of brown slippers to him, the inside covered in soft looking fur that somehow he knew would be comfortable the moment he stepped into them.

“These are yours.” She whispered quietly, a shy look coming over her that caused him to smile down at her sweetly.

“Thank you y/n.” He gently took the slippers from her. A bold moment gripped him and he leaned forward, gently brushing his plush lips against the worried crease between her eyebrows.

“Relax. I’m sure it’ll start coming back to me soon enough.” He gave her a sweet smile, dropping the slippers to the floor before sliding his bare feet into them and sighing at the feel.

“Comfy?” She whispered, a slight blush to her cheeks as she stared up at him from the cover of her long lashes.

He nodded, though his attention was drawn elsewhere when a small whine jerked his attention to the hall that lead deeper into the home.

“Wh...what was that?” He squeaked, his voice higher pitched than she could have ever thought possible.

“Oh that was Champ and Kaia.” She forced her voice to sound cheerful despite the nerves coursing through her.

Oh please let Champ behave himself. She prayed desperately to whichever gods may be listening at the time.

“Ch..Champ and…”

“Kaia? Our dogs. They’ve been locked up in the bedroom since this morning so they’re probably dying to come out and see their Daddy. They missed you Yoongi.” She began making her way to the bedroom, not paying much attention as Yoongi anxiously backed his way onto the sofa.

“Dogs? Those...those don’t sound like dogs.” The whimpering echoed through the house again, the full bodied whine of a German Shepherd waiting to greet his owner.

She gave off a laugh as she rounded the corner, waving a hand dismissively in his cowering direction.

Yoongi whimpered, unsure what to expect as a rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins. The sound of scrambling paws reached his ears, causing him to draw his legs up onto the sofa in a defensive position as the sound of his wife’s voice coo’d through the bedroom door to the beasts.

“It’s alright Champ, mommy’s here. Back up.” There was a paused in which Yoongi stared wide eyed at the dark expanse of the hall.

“That’s a good boy. Wait.” She commanded in a more firm tone before the sound of the door opening reached his ears.

“Champ slow down!” Y/n shouted. Paws scratched at bare wood floor and Yoongi screamed as the sight of a three legged dog raced in his direction. The dog growled and barked all the way, skidding to a stop in front of a still screaming Yoongi who now held up a throw pillow between him and the dog as a means of defense. Close at the large black and white dog’s heels trailed a golden lab, her tail wagging happily and tongue hanging from the corner of her mouth as she barked happily in unison with the shepherd, though her’s was decidedly more happy than threatening.

But the distinction was lost on Yoongi as all he saw was teeth and muscled fur waiting to rip his throat out.

“Champ, oh my god shut up. You know him!” Y/n said as she rounded the corner, hands on her hips and a frown on her lips as she scolded Champ.

The dog glanced back at her, sitting on his haunches and quelling the rumble in his throat as he waited patiently for his Mistress to tell him what to do.

Kaia, her golden fur shining brightly in the evening sunlight had edged her way closer to Yoongi, snoot resting on the edge of the couch as she watched him struggle to crawl farther away from her.

Y/n made her way to the ever escalating situation, snatching at Champ’s collar and pulling him away so that she could reach Yoongi.

“Hey, babe relax.” She held up her hands, trying to pull his attention off the dogs and on her.

His cries of fear had quieted, though his eyes never left the golden brown stare of Kaia who still watched him with an adorably happy look on her face.

“Kaia, back up honey.” Y/n said quietly. The curious dog complied immediately, showing her obedience as she backed up to where Champ sat and sitting beside him calmly. She nudged him with her snoot before going back to staring at a terrified Yoongi.

Y/n sat beside Yoongi, her hand settling on his trembling arm as he clutched at the small pillow like a lifeline.

“Hey.” She quietly called for his attention to which he complied, his wide eyed stare wavering between her own and the dogs who now sat quietly at a distance. “I’m sorry Champ came at you like that.”

“Wh...why?” Yoongi whimpered.

She tilted her head slightly in questioning, wondering what he could be asking.

“Why did he act like that? I thought he was ours?” Yoongi waved at the dog who was now chewing on an itchy spot on the side of his back leg.

“Oh..well.” She glanced back at the dog before returning her attention to Yoongi. “Well...before we got him he was pretty heavily abused. The people that owned him hit him and denied him food and just...were awful.”

Yoongi gave her his full attention, a small stretch of sympathy pushing through the fear at the dog’s story.

“He was about 4 months old when he escaped from them. But he ended up getting hit by a car. They...well they tried but couldn’t save his front leg. The entire thing traumatized him and now anytime he smells hospital on anyone he kind of freaks out. Doctor says it’s PTSD which doesn’t surprise me honestly.” She glanced over to the dog who seemed to have calmed down considerably.

“His name is Champ. Well, Champion. We decided to call him that because of how much he’d survived.” She looked to Yoongi, noticing he’d calmed down as well. The formerly stiff man had lowered his legs to the floor, feet flat on the ground though he still held on to the pillow.

“I’m sorry Yoongi.” She whispered, head bowed in shame.

“Hmm?” His eyes followed the downward motion of her bowing head. “Sorry?”

“Yea. For not warning you. For not making the introduction slower and easier for you. I keep...forgetting that this is new to you. That...that you don’t remember.” She glanced up at him, eyes filled with tears as she bit her trembling lower lip.

He seemed to finally relax fully. Placing the pillow to the side he gathered her hands into his own. “Hey...hey.” He waited patiently for her to look up at him once more. “It’s alright. Yea they scared me half to death but honestly it’s just because I wasn’t expecting them.” He looked over at the two dogs who had settled down, curled around each other on the floor, Kaia giving Champ a bath as Champ watched the two humans with a mild sense of interest.

“Champ. Come here.” Yoongi said, trying to hide the trembling in his voice as he decided to be bold for a moment.

The Shepherd perked up, scrambling up eagerly and walking over with his adorably lopsided trot. His lower lip curled under his teeth, though more in an awkward doggy grin than as a sign of aggression.

Yoongi reached his hand out, allowing the curious pup to sniff it before reaching out to pat him gently on the head. Y/n grinned happily, wiping away her tears as Champ pushed his body up against Yoongi’s leg, plopping down on his foot and allowing Yoongi to rub his sides.

Kaia whimpered, sadness evident in her as she wanted a share of the attention as well.

Yoongi watched her tail thump on the ground. “What’s Kaia’s story?” He asked as his knuckles rubbed Champ’s sides much to the lovable pup’s joy.

“Kaia? She’s been with me for...wow for almost 9 years now. I found her on the side of the road, a half starved pup. Honestly I didn’t even know what color she was until I’d given her a bath and a good brush down, that’s just how dirty the poor baby was.” Y/n motioned the retriever over, giving her an affectionate rub down. Kaia shoved Champ out of the way, forgoing the hand sniff of invitation for placing both front paws on Yoongi’s lap.

With little to no shame she gave him her seal of approval with a slobber filled kiss to the cheek. Yoongi chuckled, rubbing the loving dog on the sides as he allowed her to give him a few more doggy kisses before gently pushing her out of his lap and wiping his cheek.

“Well, is there anything else I should know?” He asked, patting y/n on the leg.

Anxiety jolted through her at the question. “Any...anything else?” She squeaked.

“Yea, we don’t have any fire breathing dragons living in the basement or ghosts haunting the attic or anything right?” He chuckled at the question, drawing a relieved laugh from the shaken girl.

“God no nothing like that. These two are it.” She smiled at the dogs. They scampered off, having investigated the newcomer and found him worthy, to play tug of war with a large rope that had been hidden in a corner of the living room.

“Good.” He nodded, watching the two dogs romp around. Champ didn’t even seem to be bothered by the missing forelimb. He kept up with his aging sister no problem, even out pacing her when the rope had gone flying across the room to land in front of the coffee table.

“With me home...our family’s complete.” He whispered to himself, watching the dogs with a newfound affection.

“What did you say?” Y/n asked as she made to stand.

“I’m glad to be home.” He replied, smiling up at her happily.

***

Champ~ The happiest tripod💚💚💚

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letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked · 6 years

Text

Oneshot: Just Do It

Sam Wilson x Reader

A/N: This is for @spectacular-spiderboy 600 follower challenge! Congratulations, love!

Prompt: “I just fought off ten armed men, and you expect me to – what? Jump off a thousand foot building?”

Word Count: 3,900ish (oops lol)

Warnings: Falling, fighting, shooting, death, many ‘F bombs’, annoyingly cheesy fluffy goodness, etc.

Main Masterlist

“Y/n, you’ve got incoming hostiles.” You heard Steve grunt over the comms, as you willed the computer to download the files faster. “Natasha, what’s your status?”

“I’m a little busy, here.” She huffed with an annoyed tone, “Sam, where the hell are you?”

“Where the hell do you think I am?” He snapped, the sounds of shooting coming from his line. “I’m not flying to Canada!”

“Come on, come on, come on.” You glared at the little green progress bar, which was only at 95% and moving as slow as a damn slug. You heard the clanging of HYDRA agents climbing the stairs, and panic surged through your chest – your heart jackhammering against your ribs, and fingers starting to tremble. You ran over to the door, jamming the handle with a chair and propping a desk parallel to the door – so they couldn’t shoot you through the crack, and buying you a little more time. “What happened to this being an easy mission?”

“Are they ever really easy?” Natasha snarked, grunting in pain as she fought off more attackers. “How the hell did they know we were coming?”

“What’s the status on the download?” Steve asked, his line beginning to grow quieter in the background. “You need to erase all the files, too.”

“I know how to do my job.” You muttered, rolling your eyes and glaring at the screen. “It’s going agonizingly slow at 99%. I didn’t realize we were working with friggin’ dial-up, over here” You took a deep breath in, before huffing out loudly – trying to calm your impatience, as the agents began banging on the door to break it down. “When it’s done, all I have to do is put my drive in the computer, hit enter, and it will clear all the – IT’S DONE! Oh, thank fuck.”

“Cap doesn’t like that kind of language.” Sam joked, making you giggle as you inserted your pre-programmed drive into the slot.

The banging on the door intensified, and you quickly hit ‘enter’ to wipe all their files – watching as all the screens began to turn blank. “Alright I’m-” You were cut off as the door blew in with a loud bang, and you whipped around – watching the men and women pile into the room, counting how many agents there were, while quickly reaching for your gun. “Shit.”

“Y/n?” Sam called through the comms, panic laced in his voice. “What’s going on down there?”

You didn’t reply, immediately shooting the heads of three agents, trying to keep track of the other seven while dodging gunfire – diving behind the computer desks, and shoving the jump drive into your suit pocket. The gunfire was deafening, making your ears slightly ring as you shot another agent in the back and glanced towards the open door to the stairs.

How can you take down six agents, make it to the door, and not get shot in the process?

You jumped out, grabbing a small folding chair that had been used at the closest desk, and hit the closest agent as hard as you could in the back of the head – hearing a sickening crack as the metal made contact and broke something. With a small shudder, you used the chair as a makeshift shield – before throwing it in the direction of two agents and shooting another in the chest, above their Kevlar.

Okay, four left.

Making good use of the time you had from distracting the two agents with the chair, you threw yourself at the closest agent, dodging the first punch – but taking a swift kick to the tibia – and bashing your knuckles against the man’s nose. When his head snapped backwards, you used your other fist to punch the hard tube of his trachea – sending the male agent to the floor, choking on his breath.

The agents that had been distracted from the flying chair were back up faster than you anticipated, ganging up on you before you had a chance to gather your bearings. Each one grabbed an arm, pinning each limb to their chests and locking them into place – limiting your movements.

The last agent, that had been attempting to remove your jump drive and fix what you’d broke, stomped over to you, “Where’s the drive?!”

“Go to hell.” You spat, throwing your momentum back and kicking out your legs as hard as you could – hitting the large agent’s chest and knocking the man and woman behind you backwards. You expected them to hold their stances, since they’d been pretty well balanced, but the little shits fell back.

You hit the floor with a groan, rolling your eyes and ignoring the pain. “Fucking really?”

With a loud grunt, you pushed yourself up, nabbing the gun that was in the woman’s holster and shooting each of the little fuckfaces in the head – looking away before you could watch the blood pool and mix on the dirty floor.

Whipping around just in time to dodge a blow to the head via keyboard, you ducked and dove – wrapping your arms around the agent’s legs and pulling the man to the floor. He coughed, back hitting the floor roughly and knocking the air from his lungs, before kicking his legs out – catching you in the shoulder.

Crying out, you felt a something snap in your shoulder, pain radiating from the area and down your arm. Your entire arm tingled and ached in pain, but you utilized the other arm by thrashing out and catching the man in the jaw. When his head snapped back, you grabbed the keyboard from the floor and bashed it against his head – breaking the plastic. He moaned, hand going up to his face, which gave you the opportunity to strike against his groin.

You scooted back, kicking against the spot between his legs as hard as your weight would allow.

When his breath was caught in his throat, you grabbed the metal folding chair you’d used earlier – which was spotted with the blood of fuckface one and two – and bashed it into his neck. You heard the gurgle of a damaged trachea, watching the man turn over with his hands against his neck, before bringing the side of the chair back down against his spine.

The sickening snap was something that you hated hearing, preferring to ignore it as much as possible, but it was necessary. You’d done this many times in your days as a hitwoman. You were better with guns, yes, but – sometimes – it was necessary to get your hands a little dirty.

Or, in this case, chair.

It was much easier, killing people with a gun. It wasn’t as intimate. You could be yards away, so you didn’t have to watch the life leave their eyes. It was easier to remain stoic, and to push aside all feelings, when you were further away from your target.

It was easier to pretend that you weren’t the monster that HYDRA made you to be.

“Y/n! Report!” Steve yelled through the comms, voice laced with panic and frustration – the noise beginning to quiet down on his end. “Y/n!”

“I’m good!” You panted, adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart pounding against your ribs. “I’m coming down to you.”

“Negative. There’s too many of them. You need to head to the roof.” Steve commanded, as you grabbed a stray gun off the floor and checked it for ammo. “You’re only three floors down.”

“Crap. I hate stairs.” You grumbled, walking towards the door to the stairwell, pausing to take care of the moaning agent on the floor that you’d left choking on his breath from your throat punch. Once he was taken care of, you jogged into the echoing stairwell, glancing up and down for any incoming agents.

When you’d glanced down, you made eye contact with an agent who was ascending the flight below you.

“Shit!” You hissed, taking the stairs two at a time, attempting to outrun the agent – who had called for backup. You could hear the pounding of more and more agents entering, footfalls echoing against the cement walls. “Guys, they’re following me to the roof. There’s too many to handle on my own.”

“Just keep going.” Natasha replied, voice shaking slightly as if she was running. “Get to the roof.”

“Is extraction here?” You asked, a sheen of sweat forming on your brow from the exertion. No response. “Guys? Extraction?”

With a grunt, you shouldered open the door to the roof, before slamming it closed and glancing around at your surroundings. The roof was completely open, which was bad for you if the agents made it up to the roof before you were extracted. There was nowhere for you to dodge gunfire, and – though you were confident in your hand to hand combat skills – there were too many agents ascending the never-ending flights of stairs.

“Guys, I’m on the roof? Where the hell is extraction?” You leaned against the door, trying to catch your breath and not panic at your current predicament. “I’m out in the fucking open! Extraction was supposed to be waiting!”

“Jump!” Sam called through comms.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” You shrieked, entire body freezing at the thought of jumping from this height without a parachute. “I just fought off ten armed men, and you expect me to – what? Jump off a thousand foot building?”

“I’ll catch you.” He yelled, voice slightly muffled by the sound of rushing wind. “Trust me.”

“I- I- I-” You stuttered out, eyes wide in terror as you glanced at the edge of the stupid building. The breeze was whipping against your exposed skin, which was slightly damp with a layer of sweat, causing a small shiver to run down your spine. It had rained recently, darkening the exposed cement – a potential threat to someone who was prone to slipping and falling. “Is it too late to say I’m a little wary of heights?”

“Jump!”

With a groan, you pushed off from the door, using your momentum to pick up your speed. Your legs moved as quick as their height would allow, and you pumped your arms – sprinting towards the impending doom that was the edge of the fucking skyscraper.

You hated New York, sometimes.

Stupid buildings.

The loud groan and clang of the metal door hitting the cement prompted you to hustle, while the agents spilled onto the roof behind you – guns at the ready. The quick popping of gunfire was all you heard, before you launched yourself up and over the edge of the building, praying that Sam was quick enough to catch you before you hit the ground.

SON OF A BITCH!

Oh, no… Did you just get hit?

A small shriek escaped your lips – stomach clenching and pain radiating from your side – as you began the rapid descent towards the ground. Not that you could see anything, though. The second that your body had registered the pain of the gunshot, your eyes had screwed shut in pain – which was almost worse than falling to your potential death with your eyes open… because you didn’t know when you’d hit the ground.

You better not hit the ground, or you’d haunt Sam Wilson to the end of his goddamn days.

Your hands were tucked into your side, trying to stem the bleeding with your palms. Oh shit. Even with the icy cold air whipping against your entire, descending body… you could feel the hot blood oozing though your fingertips and dripping into the air.

Suddenly, your body was whipped in a different direction, pain blossoming even further into your body as your hands were ripped away from the wound and the wind was knocked from your lungs in a choking gasp. A pair of warm arms were wrapped around you, gripping you tightly against the chest of one Sam Wilson. His arm was wrapped around your bleeding wound, squeezing to the point of a pained cry bubbling from your lips – before you felt the dizzying shift in direction.

“Shit. Guys, I think Y/n’s been hit.” Sam’s panicked voice was close to your ear, echoing between his real voice and the comms unit in your ear. “How far out is extraction?”

You didn’t hear the reply, but you didn’t give a shit. You were concentrating on your breaths – trying to keep a steady pace of inhales and exhales – so you could breathe through the pain. Your first time being shot in the stomach, and it just had to be Sam that was there for it.

Great! You were never going to on another mission, again, without an argument from your stupidly overprotective boyfriend…

You must have blacked out for a few seconds, because the next thing you knew, you were on the hard cement of another roof, being shook back awake by a completely panicked Sam. He was breathing hard, wings folded back in, as he knelt next to your reclined form – keeping one hand over the front of your wound. His normally shining, humorous eyes were completely wild with fear and anxiety. His lips – which you preferred when they were grinning from a joke, exposing his cutely gapped teeth, or pressed against your own – were trembling with every word.

“-up! You have to stay awake!” He demanded, pressing harder against the seeping hole in your side. “Come on, sweetheart. Stay awake. Med Evac is almost here.”

“Shit…” You groaned, fisting your hands tight enough to leave crescent shaped gashes in your palms, trying to pretend you weren’t in as much pain as you were actually in. “You made me… jump off the roof… asshole.”

“We’ll talk about that later.” His shoulders sagged slightly, though his hands were still tightly pressed against you. You watched his adam’s apple bob with a hard swallow, before he continued, “Now stay awake. I’m going to be really pissed if you die, okay?”

“I’m not going to fucking die.” You snapped, face scrunching up with a small hiss as your sharp words made your stomach muscles slightly clench. “Mother fucking fuck.”

“You know Steve’s still on the line.” He snorted, brushing his free hand against your forehead and caressing your face with his bloody hand. “That’s a lot of F-bombs you’re dropping, sweetheart.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’ve been shot.” You didn’t realize how cold you were, already, until the winds of the landing quinjet whipped around and bit into your chilled skin. Were you in some sort of shock? How the fuck haven’t you passed completely out, yet? It had to be the adrenaline. “S-Sam… I’m… I’m fucking cold.”

“They’re here, just hold on.” He soothed, eyes flicking back and forth between you and the opening door of the quinjet. “Steve and Natasha are almost here.”

You hummed, feeling your eyes start to grow heavy with exhaustion. Oh god, don’t pass out, yet. “Iloveyou…” You slurred, eyes twitching to stay open, beginning to feel you were looking into a strobe light. “Shi…t….”

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

Ugh. What the hell.

Why was it that any time you woke up in a hospital, the beeping of the stupid heart monitor was the first thing you heard? Didn’t they have ways of turning that down, so it wasn’t so annoying? Honestly, the annoying beeping of a heart monitor could wake someone from a coma, just from how irritating the sound was.

Wellp, that happened.

You got shot on your – supposedly ‘easy’ – mission.

You were never going to live this down…

“No.” Sam?

“Why the hell not?” You heard someone – Bucky? – reply, exasperated. “You’ve been a chickenshit ever since you’ve realized you wanted to do it. Just fucking ask her, already!”

Ask you what?

What the heck are these idiots even talking about?

“I’m literally still covered in her blood, man.” Sam growled, and you could almost picture that scrunched look he got when him and Bucky argued about something. “Not right now.”

“I think you’re being a fucking pus-”

“If you say ‘pussy’…” You groaned, voice hoarse from lack of use, as you opened your eyes – squinting against the harsh light of the med bay’s hospital room. “I’m gunna’ punch you. Shot, or not.”

They both jumped, heads turning in your direction. Sam’s eyes were wide in surprise, while Bucky’s face was twisted in guilt.

“Sorry.” Bucky muttered, patting your foot before heading to the door. “Anyways, I’m outta’ here. I’ll let the doctor know you’re up.”

“You do that.” You snorted, rolling your eyes at his retreating form. When you turned to Sam, you felt your demeanor soften a bit. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself, beautiful.”

“Don’t try to schmooze me. I was just shot.” You glanced down, lifting the blanket slightly to see the wound – forgetting for a moment that you were in a hospital gown. Lowering it, you tested your movements slightly, a dull ache in your side the only pain you felt. “I feel pretty good, for someone who was spouting blood all over you.”

“You weren’t bleeding that badly.” His lips lifted in a small smirk as he leaned forward in his chair, grabbing your hand and pressing a small, warm kiss to your knuckles. “Anyways, you’re pretty doped up on painkillers.”

“Why are you still in your suit pants? They’re covered in blood.” You frowned, rubbing your thumb over his roughly scabbed knuckles and taking in the state of his attire. “You could’ve changed while I was sleeping, you know.”

“I was too worried to leave.”

“You have to stop being a worry wart. It’ll raise your blood pressure.” You teased, shifting into a more comfortable position on the bed before the drugs wore off. “Anyways, what were you going to ask me?”

His eyes widened into saucers, almost comically, as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water – fighting to find the right words to say in his embarrassment… or alarm? “You… uhhh… you heard that?”

“Now I’m really intrigued.” You laughed, wincing slightly at the contraction of your stomach muscles pulling at your wound. “Why do you look so terrified? It’s not like you were going to ask me to marry you, right?”

He gulped at your laughing form, jaw snapping shut as he glanced away from you, fingers beginning to tremble slightly in yours. As your laughter died down quickly, you could hear the tapping of his foot against the hard floors, which was slightly more annoying than the heart monitor beeping in your ear. His eyebrows were slightly pushed together, creating a small line in the middle and giving you the urge to smooth it out with your thumb.

What the heck was his problem?

“Sam,” You narrowed your eyes at him, raising an eyebrow at his odd behavior. “You… weren’t going to ask me to marry you… were you?”

“Well, with that tone, probably not…” He mumbled, shoulders sagging as his hand slowly slid out from yours. He looked down at the floor, crossing his arms over his chest and slightly chewing on his lip.

Oh… shit.

Oh, shit!

HE THINKS YOU’D SAY NO, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!

“Oh… Uhhh… Well, I would’ve said yes, you know.” You felt a lump form in your chest, feeling awful about laughing at him when he was really going to ask you. You’ve wanted nothing more than for that man to ask you. You’d been dating for almost four years… the next step in your relationship was something you’d been looking forward to for a really long time. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

He sighed, leaning his head back for a moment, as if to gather courage, before standing. After a small exhale, he slid onto the side of your bed, which slightly dipped under his weight, and leaned forward to gather your hands in his – being mindful of your IV. “You would? You’d say yes?”

Glancing up at his dark, russet eyes – watching his pupils dilate – you felt the dull ache of tears behind your eyes, a lump forming in your throat as the thought of a long life with the man in front of you became a strong possibility. Your lips lifted, focus blurring as the tears tried to escape. “In a heartbeat.”

His face lit up, lips pulling over his gleaming, white teeth in a large grin. The russet of his eyes were shining, as his eyes misted slightly, and he tried to hold himself together. His hands moved up to your face, lightly cupping your cheeks and leaning in to press his forehead against your own. “Will you marry me?”

“Nope.” You giggled, bringing your hands up to cup his jaw and pull him in, joining your lips in a long kiss.

The tears you’d tried to hold back spilled over as your eyes slid closed, mixing with the taste of Sam’s warm mouth as your lips melded together. Though one hand continued to cup his stubbled jaw, the other gently slid to the back of his neck, pulling him as close as you could get. Your heart was jackhammering in your chest, synchronized with the annoyingly rapid beeps of the stupid monitor, which echoed in the silent room – your breaths the only other sound.

Though this was not your first kiss, by far, your head was buzzing with the feelings that each kiss brought: love, security, warmth… God, you loved this man.

As you pulled slightly back, slowly brushing your lips against his lower lip, you breathed him in – the intoxicating smell of his body wash masking the scent of gunpowder from your mission. His warm breath washed over your face, before he pulled back to press a small peck on your nose.

“I think the answer you meant to say was yes.” He murmured, moving back to his previous position of touching his forehead to yours as the tips of your noses brushed against each other. His voice was an octave lower, sending a small shiver down your spine, giving you goosebumps.

You slowly opened your eyes – meeting his dark, hooded ones – and bit your lip for a moment, running your fingers across the back of his neck. “Was it?”

He snorted, shaking his head before pressing another chaste kiss against your lips, “I think it was.”

“You might be right.” You whispered, sliding your hands down to his chest, feeling the deep rise and fall of his chest. The palm of your hand was resting over his heart, and you could feel the quickened pace of his heartbeat against the skin. Leaning down, you rested your head against his collarbone, ear pressed against the thin cotton of his suit’s undershirt. Your arms looped around his shoulders, and you ignored the tugging against the stitches in your side – relying on the strength of the painkillers to make this position bearable. “Of course, I’ll marry you, fool.”

He huffed out a small laugh, turning his face to press a small kiss to your forehead, resting his arms gently around your middle – being mindful of your injury, unlike yourself. “I’ll take it.”

“FINALLY!”

You jumped, wincing as the tensing of your muscles pulled against the tender wound, before pulling back from Sam and glaring at the metal-armed buffoon screaming in the damn doorway. He was accompanied by Steve, Natasha, and several doctors – all of which looked guilty, like they’d been standing there for far too long. “Really, dude?”

“I’ve been waiting for this wimp to ask you for months!” Bucky grinned, crossing his arms over his chest in triumph. “Let me have my fun, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Mrs. Wilson.” You grinned, looking back up at Sam – who was staring down at you with the shining look of adoration. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“I like it, too, Mrs. Wilson.”

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

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whatifexo · 6 years

Text

Goodbye - Scenario Dump

Hello, everyone~ This is quite possibly the last thing I’m going to post on this blog. It’s a dump of three unfinished scenarios I wasn’t able to finish in the past 2 years. As you all probably saw coming, I can no longer find the motivation to continue updating this blog and writing on a daily basis. I could write a whole novel on why I’ve decided to leave, but I’ll keep it short: Life changes and so do we. These last 3-4 years with you all have been almost surreal. From your kind messages to our crazy drabble games, I really felt welcomed as a writer and contributor to the fandom. Thank you so much for sharing this creative space with me. I will miss you all dearly. For those who are willing to stick around with me a little longer, I’m actually way more active on this blog! I’m also working on writing a little fic there, and after it’s posted, we’ll see if I do more. But for now, that’s where you can find me.

And now, for the word vomit you’ve all been waiting for under the cut. These are unedited and unfinished so pls forgive me if you find errors, lol. Thank you, everyone! See you on the flip!

Red Carpet - Jaebum

New Year ’s Eve.

You’ve grown used to spending it with the familiar waft of cookies and hot chocolate, the crinkle of wrapping paper, and carols softly playing on the radio. This year, you spend the last night of the year alone, ironically so amidst the energetic chaos flying about backstage. At some point, you’d escaped the insistent hands of your stylists and bowed past several of your seniors, never lifting your head to make eye contact. Utmost respect meant quick greetings. No questions asked. No suspicions. No one took notice when you slipped out the back exit and ascended up the flight of stairs leading into the rooftop.

Nausea hits you as soon as you peer over the edge and spot the red carpet below, still bustling with activity. The flashes from the paparazzi are blinding even from far away. Around them, fans crowd behind the barricades, holding up signs and gifts. A wall of security stands guard at the sidelines. Sleek, black vans with tinted windows roll slowly down the street, dropping off the stars of the night. Just hours ago, you were one of the many idols who walked down that glamorous path.

Your stomach flips at the memory of the event.

There was an overwhelming response to your arrival, even more so when your name made headlines after your iconic debut stage.

______,The Rising Star. Korea’s Next BoA. The Nation’s Pride.

Crippling pressure weighed on you as soon as you first touched limelight. Your fans rapidly accumulated. Your albums sold out in mere days. You received offers for commercials and acting roles, you were invited to guest on entertainment shows. Your company’s sales soared, and in turn, they prioritized your promotions over your label mates’. After all of this, tonight, on the red carpet, they had asked you how you felt.

You now chuckle sadistically to yourself, grabbing onto the metal railing and hardly feeling the cold there.

They think you’re ecstatic. Absolutely thrilled and honored to be here amongst the leading celebrities of the country, ending the year with trophies and explosive performances. Tonight, the world expects you to live up to their expectations.

How can you possibly fulfill these demands when your stomach is in knots and your throat is chocked with anxiety?

Dropping your hands from the railing, you step back with wobbling knees. Your dress suddenly feels tight around your body, locking you in a wicked grip. The worst of your fears race through your head.

What if you don’t deserve all of this attention after all? What if you break on stage? What if your voice falters and cracks in the middle of your performance? What if your fans are disgusted by your self-composed songs?

If they hate it…

The shock of this thought shoots through your bones like lightning, and you stumble back, your heel snagging in your long dress. You yelp in surprise as your body loses balance and falls backward, colliding with a broad and solid chest.

A pair of gentle hands catches you by the shoulders.

“Breathe, sweetheart.”

The voice is deep and quiet. There’s familiarity in the man’s tone, as if you’d heard it before in a passing conversation. Your guard raises, and you pull away to face the stranger who you assume to be a passing senior or staff member.

“I’m sorry. I’ll head back in-“

“I don’t think taking a few breaths calls for an apology.”

Im Jaebum, leader of Got7, stares back at you inquisitively with a raised brow.

Your heart stutters in your chest. The last time you’d seen him, it had been in the dressing room hours ago, when he’d been sitting in front of the mirror having his hair styled. You were passing by in the hall and your eyes met briefly through your reflection on the glass. He looked startled, smiling politely before blushing by the tips of his ears. The staff had abruptly the door to his dressing room before you could react.

In contrast to then, the Jaebum in front of you now no longer seems so shy. Dark eyeliner accentuates his eyes, adding a heavy undertone to his gaze that warms your insides. You panic slightly under the weight of his undivided attention, eyes unnervingly focused and…concerned?

Surely, you must be wrong.

“If you’re questioning my motives, then yes, I actually did follow you up here,” Jaebum’s lips curve into a smile. Your face warms in response. “You looked sick and pale, and I know that look all too well.”

“You do?” you blurt out, eyes widening at yourself. You never do this. Never respond to your elders informally or entertain colleagues who made their advances. In revealing something more than your stage persona, you were afraid of exposing your vulnerabilities. So you became a shell. Bathed in the spotlight, but never letting anyone touch your core.

Jaebum has thrown all of your practice out the window.

“I remember when I felt that way,” Jaebum nods, as if confirming something in your eyes. He’s reading you as easily as an instruction manual, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. “I felt something like it after Jinyoung and I stopped promoting as JJ Project.”

Jaebum’s gaze softens. He slides past you to look over the railing where the activities of the red carpet event have begun to dwindle. You watch his back and taut shoulders for a moment, hesitating. He could be up to something. Leading you to let down your guard so he can tease and torture you about it later.

You’ve heard stories during your training period. How seniors sometimes pressured rookie artists, manipulating the rules of seniority in order to bully the ones on the lowest of tiers. The end goal was to drive the rookies to quit, weeding out the competition so the ones at the top may stay there. It was a sick, twisted game played by a select few, but still a possibility in this line of business.

But to be played by Im Jaebum?

You shake your head.

He’s better than this. You know it with certainty. Those eyes that met with yours in the mirror held the truth, and somehow, you know you can trust him.

Joining him to stand by the railing, you watch Jaebum examine his hands, calloused and stretched on the back of his palms. With a start, you remember watching an interview of Got7 weeks ago while you were on standby in the waiting room. Jaebum recounted a story of his stray cats in the dorm, each who had bizarre, yet strangely endearing personalities.

You find yourself smiling before he even begins to speak.

“I think my whole world fell apart and rebuilt itself when I re-debuted with the boys.” he folds his hands, toying with his fingers in awkward movements. “I hated them for a time just because they were new and inexperienced. But God, did they grow on me fast. I wanted to show off as their senior, but who was I kidding? I was still shitting my pants before our debut stage.”

You laugh out loud at this, and Jaebum turns to you, mirth in his eyes despite his unfortunate story.

“You know why they call me out for being so hyperactive out there?” he jerks his head to the side, referring to an imaginary audience.

You shake your head, and he sighs softly.

“Because I don’t think I’ll ever forget the energy of my first stage. As in, my first genuine stage. I was happy. I didn’t care about what others might think of me in that moment or afterwards. I was out there losing myself in my craft, and that’s the only thing I hold on to when I perform. That should be your only concern tonight too.”

His eyes dart over to the red carpet briefly, and you shiver, both from the chill of the night and the implication of his words.

“How did you know?” you stare up at him, wondering. In a matter of minutes, he’d figured you out. Related with your emotions and churning thoughts. Though all he did was talk about himself, you don’t think this is really about him. Not completely. Otherwise, he would have approached this conversation with much more arrogance.

No, that’s not it.

He’s comforting you.

The realization has your pulse quickening.

“You can say I know from experience.” Jaebum grins with a degree of shyness, as if reading into your thoughts.

You hold his gaze for a few beats. The familiar flush on his ears has returned, but his eyes are unwavering. For the first time tonight, you let out an unlabored breath. Your heart is still running a marathon, but this time, in a good way. Jaebum is still watching you as you let your eyes flutter shut.

“Thank you.”

“For what? The pleasure is mine.”

There’s mischief laced in Jaebum’s voice.

You crack an eye open.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” Jaebum says incredulously, lips quirking into a smile. “I’m actually one of your biggest fans.”

The world freezes for a second.

The distant camera flashes halt to a stop, the sound of screaming fans dim to an acute noise, and the cold air lifts from your skin, warming your body from inside out. Your vision blurs from the intoxication of Jaebum’s confession. His timid smile is all you can see.

“Why me?” you ask more to yourself than to Jaebum, recalling all the times you’ve quietly watched him with awe from behind the scenes, the charismatic leader of his team. Someone as occupied and charming as he wouldn’t have time to admire a rookie idol like you.

“Why not you?” Jaebum challenges, raising a brow.

“Because…” you struggle to reason with him. You’re not up to par with him. He’s several years your senior. You have not yet shown your full potential. “…because I’m me.”

“You’re being unfair, _______.” Jaebum chuckles, though his tone is bitter. “I didn’t come up here to get rejected.”

Your eyes shoot up to his in alarm.

“I wasn’t-“

“Rejecting me? I know, it’s hard not to.”

You barely manage to keep yourself from cringing.

Jaebum, on the other hand, completely fails to hide his horror. Even in the dark, the dim glow of the moon is enough to expose his flushed cheeks.

Vicissitude - Part 3 (Chanyeol)

“Care to tell me why you haven’t been to work for the past three days?”

Kyungsoo is scary.

He entered the kitchen twenty minutes ago without saying a word, silently tiptoeing around you and your laptop at the table to brew some coffee. You’d almost forgotten he was there until he cleared his throat, paused for a solid few seconds, then dropped the big question.

You were hoping he wouldn’t notice.

But his low profile tendencies have a reason behind it, which is being highly aware of his surroundings and noticing changes. Which you’ve clearly made.

You’re actually doing your homework.

A lot of it.

Along with other things.

“Oh, you know,” you say over the whirring of the coffee machine. “Places to be. People to meet.”

“In the middle of nowhere.”

You never knew Kyungsoo had so much sass in him. The quiet, deadly kind of sass that catches you off guard because he’s being so painfully casual for someone who’s about to pry for information.

And his back is still turned on you.

“I still haven’t gotten my paycheck, by the way.” you’re stalling, which is painfully obvious. “I’m going on strike.”

Kyungsoo finally shows his face after pressing a button on the coffee machine, the whirring immediately subsiding after he lifts the mug from the base of the machine. He studies you quietly without an ounce of emotion on his face, and you try to mimic the same neutral expression but you know you just probably look like you’re constipated.

“Paychecks come out every two weeks. And considering that you’ve also skipped out on the past few days…..” he doesn’t finish knowing that you understand the deal here.

No work, no pay.

You sigh, acknowledging defeat and turning back to your laptop to finish up that government paper you’re only halfway finished with because you didn’t actually start writing it until three days ago. Somewhere along the line, you’ve turned writing papers into a form of distraction.

In actuality, you hate writing. But it gives you something to do and think about other than the lingering touch of Yixing’s lips and the thin layer of guilt there that you’re still trying to figure out.

As usual, forgetting things isn’t as easy as it seems.

“Please tell me you’re going to go away soon.” you say without looking up from your laptop, because you know very well that Kyungsoo is still standing there with his coffee and he hasn’t shown any sign of movement.

He’s also making you think of things again which is bad. Very bad.

“I’m waiting.”

He wants answers.

He’s been hanging out with Baekhyun too much. He’s slowly getting just as annoying. And by annoying you mean being able to read right through you even with the façade you’re showing.

Are you really that readable?

“Then keep waiting.” you pull down your laptop screen and grab for your coat behind your chair, and only now does Kyungsoo set down his coffee in mild surprise.

“Where are you going?”

He sounds like your mom whenever you ask her if you can hang with some friends she doesn’t recognize the names of at any time past nine in the evening.

Mind you, it’s only three in the afternoon right now. Therefore, Kyungsoo can’t call you out on this.

“On a walk.” you offer him a salute, which he doesn’t take very well as he scrunches his brows in thought back at you.

Amazing how much character development he can show within only a week or so after meeting him for the first time. There’s also the fact that you’ve somewhat taken a liking to him during your time at the lounge whenever you’d exchange random pleasantries in between working breaks.

Or how he randomly takes care of the people around him without much thought through simple things. Such as waking Baekhyun up every morning without yelling at him about his alarm that wakes just about everyone in the cabin except for him. And how he’ll diligently listen to Chanyeol’s guitar playing and actually give feedback unlike Jongin who merely offers a nod of approval whenever Chanyeol asks for his opinion.

The way he’d wash Yixing’s favorite purple hoodie every night and run it through the dryer because that’s how often that boy wears it.

Now he’s trying to ease off some of the burden from you too.

Except this isn’t his fight.

And he must realize it too with the way he’s fallen silent again.

That is, until you reach the front door and he calls out for you right before you slip outside into the freezing temperatures. You can’t help but stop and wait for his word of advice.

“If you can’t tell me, tell someone who deserves to hear it.”

~~~

Your little ‘walk’ lasts about ten minutes tops until you decide to turn right around and come back to the comfort of the fireplace indoors. It must be below zero degrees today, with the fog making it nearly impossible to spot anything more than a foot away from you.

You’d only gone out about half a mile or so, but twenty minutes later you’re still walking and slowly beginning to panic as time continues to stretch and you fail to spot the cabin or the others that should be nearby.

Your vicinity isn’t exactly at its best given the circumstances.

To add on to the already dangerous situation, you hadn’t brought your cell phone with you either.

Brilliant, _________, just brilliant.

You wanted to drift far away from your problems but you didn’t actually want to be this far away.

Not even a sign of civilization.

You’ve never hated yourself more than you do now.

Another set of time passes, you have no idea how much, but by then your nose is frozen and you’re certain you’re only minutes away from getting frostbite on your toes. Along with that, you’re also left with some thinking time, and said thinking time encompasses just about everything odd and dramatic that has occurred throughout the course of this trip and what exactly you need to do to survive this and finally untangle the tangled affairs of your heart.

And just when you think you might die without clearing up your ongoing issues, salvation comes.

There’s a guy wearing a bright orange jacket walking in the opposite direction as you, and at first you think it’s Taemin because you’re very familiar with that jacket.

Though when you yell out and frantically flail your hands to catch his attention, you realize two things.

One, the guy is certainly not Taemin. His shoulders are too broad to be Taemin and he’s also a few inches taller than Taemin.

Two, Kyungsoo’s words of wisdom just slapped you in the face.

“_______? Are you okay? What are you doing out here? God, you’re freezing.”

There are hands on your cheeks. Warm ones. Warm hands in the middle of Arctic weather. And if you close your eyes long enough, you can almost picture home.

“Chanyeol, I’m cold.”

His hands slip from your cheeks and you hear the unzipping of his jacket, crunching of the snow, and then there’s fabric being wrapped around your neck.

You open your eyes, instantly regretting it after finding Chanyeol standing closer than before. While he’s focused on burrowing you underneath his scarf, you take in the bits of snow nestled in his bright hair and the urgency in his movements.

The deep line of worry across his forehead.

You don’t know what to make of this. You don’t know what to make of anything.

All you know is that you have to tell him something.

Anything.

“Let’s get you back inside.”

He’s tugging at your arm, and when you don’t respond, his hold slips to your wrist and he forces you to stumble after him.

He’s not asking any questions.

Which worries you more than the cold piercing into your skin.

“Chanyeol.”

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before you start developing frost bite, but I don’t think we’re too far from the cabin. We’ll make it.”

That all sounds great and relieving but it’s not exactly why you called him in the first place.

“Chanyeol.”

“We should really pick up the pace, though. Just in case I’m wrong about where we are and we both end up-“

“Yeol.”

That seems to quiet him.

He slows his pace but doesn’t stop. You still consider it a small victory as his ears flare a hint of pink at his newly birthed nickname, and you feel yourself flush too. You aren’t concerned with that because your whole face is too frozen to show a hint of color anymore.

It’s just the embarrassed feeling that lingers.

That’s not stopping you.

You need to say this before you get back to the cabin and the magic of being alone and somewhat courageous out here begins to wear off.

“In sophomore year, my favorite instrument was the guitar.” you feel his grip on your wrist loosen which means he’s finally listening. You sniff and breathe out, watching your breathe puff out in a white cloud before disappearing into the fog surrounding the two of you like a heavy cloak. “And then I went out with Yixing.”

Chanyeol stops so suddenly you nearly walk straight into him.

He turns to face you, and as soon as he does you launch into an unpracticed narration of a story you haven’t told in a while and count down the minutes you have left before you really need to book it back indoors and possibly hide forever.

“I was ignorant to music until I heard him one day in the practice room, strumming some random song I wasn’t familiar with, and I don’t know why I stayed but I did until the very end of my lunch period and he looked up past the glass on the door straight into my eyes after the song ended. I knew I loved him the moment he sang to me that same song in front of the whole student council.”

Chanyeol’s eyes have gotten so wide his whole pupils are showing.

“People said things, of course. We broke the sacrilegious rule of seniors exclusively dating seniors. But that didn’t matter. I didn’t care as long as we were together. What really mattered was that he scored a scholarship in Europe and he was bound to leave the day after his graduation.”

You’ve started shaking and it isn’t from the cold.

Chanyeol reaches out towards your shivering fingers, hesitates, then stuffs his awkward hands in his pockets as a final resolution, and you mirror his position as you bite back tears.

“He gave me a note through his music player. Some sort of voice note on why he didn’t want to leave. But you see, I knew he had to. I wasn’t worth a promising future music career. There was so much waiting for him over there, but with me, he’d forever be stuck over here. I wanted to be selfish and that thought scared me.”

You’re almost done here. It’s obvious the ending sounds near and Chanyeol knows it too. He’s looking at you as if the world is falling. You’re glad the crisp, cruel air dries your eyes and snatches any chances of tears trickling down.

“The last thing I heard from him was that he loved me. And the last thing I told him was goodbye.”

There’s a hole in this story.

Not a fairytale ending or a solution, but an important puzzle piece that you’ve missed. One that’s been there all along, hidden, unknown until you heard the gentle strings of the guitar again two years later.

And that single piece throws you off kilter. Rearranging everything else in a whole different picture.

What terrifies you the most is that it’s standing right in front of you.

“Was it, though?” Chanyeol’s voice has gone quiet in a way that you recognize because that’s what people sound like when they’re shattered. “Was it really a goodbye?”

Yixing and Chanyeol are friends.

You weren’t aware of this and from the looks of it, neither was he, which means that Yixing has kept more secrets than you realize and maybe Chanyeol knows more than what you give him credit for.

You want to call it unfair that one day, you’re still stuck trying to get over the image of your first love and then in the next, he’s tugging at your heart again but it’s refusing to follow. Not anymore. There’s a new reason behind the pounding in your chest and you hadn’t expected to identify its source in the middle of nowhere.

Where it’s just you and the boy who’s asking if you’re willing to give the past a second chance.

“I don’t know.”

Chanyeol nods in slow motion, like he’s confirmed something scientifically. His feet are heavy when he turns, his boots driving deep into the snow, and you want to follow him and ask why he’s trying to solve a mystery that you feel is only a misunderstanding.

That would’ve been easier to do if you hadn’t seen him bite his lower lip before shutting you out.

He’s not the only one who’s made a breakthrough.

It doesn’t hit you suddenly, but it settles in as slowly as Chanyeol is trudging away. The image of Yixing trapping you that day against the shelves flashes through your memory, and you faintly remember closing your eyes, feeling tender lips that are certainly not Yixing’s.

You know how his mouth fits against yours already. You’ve always known.

The moment you closed your eyes and imagined someone else was a different story. Nowadays, you wish you never have to close them because there’s only one thing that enters your mind and it has nothing to do with Yixing.

Instead, it has everything to do with his friend, and what it would be like to melt against him.

Today - Jaebum

September 22, 2017

Contrary to what they say in trashy teen magazines, first love doesn’t always begin with a heart fluttering, innocent and graceful encounter. You feel obligated to correct that misleading piece of information. You almost mark it out with your pen, correcting the writer’s mistake, but then you remember that you’re not supposed to be the critic here.

You’re supposed to be searching for inspiration. Finding a subject for your next article. You’ve sat in this God-knows-where cafe for an hour, pouring over a pile of publications, desperate to find something. Blindly reaching for an unborn idea.

“Your stories have become bland.” Mark, your editor and usually kind companion, had delivered an uppercut punch before he even finished reading your last feature article. His blatant criticism shocked you. Not once has he ever complained about your writing. It quickly became a quest to please him again.

“This writing no longer sounds like you. Are you even enjoying this anymore?”

It’s not that you’ve lost interest. It’s just that sometimes, you find yourself holding back.

“Write me something compelling and don’t even think of that promotion until you win me over.”

You didn’t think he was cruel enough to hang the managing editor title over your head. Additionally, he had struck a chord by sneaking in several romance pieces in your resources pile.

You get the hint.

In fairness, there used to be a time when you would eagerly compose romantic writings and hold on to love stories as if they were your own. Your former self embraced romance and took any risk that came your way. That was before he taught you to think twice. He taught you the reality to false beliefs. He taught you everything you know today.

These days, you’ve learned to choose your battles. Today, you find yourself surrendering to the nearly forgotten memories. As you read further down the advice column on first loves, clearly written by a young and inexperienced writer, you’re brought back to the first time you ever gave your heart away.

The very first meeting. When it was nowhere near how the fairytales described it, or how you imagined the love of your life would come to you.

Because the weather is fair, because Mark is telling you to, because you don’t have much choice, you allow yourself to remember.

Just one last time.

~~~

September 21, 2013

The crash happens while you’re attempting to merge lanes.

You swear you made sure to look, not once but thrice, gauging the blurred lights on your side mirror and passing in front of the car that had seemed far away enough. You could say it was because of the rain. You could say that the pressure overcame you, that you were racing against the passing time that refused to wait for you.

A minute ago, you’d been accelerating without fear of the wet roads, pleading that you make it in time for your first internship. A minute later, you’re hearing the screech of metal and your body is being jolted forward. You don’t realize your car has lost control until you feel the wheels under you skidding sideways to a stop, just missing the guard rail, your life quite literally flashing before your eyes in an instant.

You find your hands shaking when you glance up at yourself through the crooked rearview mirror.

Except for your flushed cheeks, there are no signs of injury. No blood. All limbs intact.

The storm of honking behind you brings you back to your senses.

“Are you fucking crazy?”

The driver of the other car is knocking on your window.

Drenched in rain, he has his phone pressed against his ear, probably calling for the police. Instead of worry, anger lines his face like the crack of thunderbolt.

His rude shouting somehow dissolves your fear and aggravates you, while a part of you admits that you’re mostly at fault. But your swelled up pride wins out over admitting your faults. The idea of losing even such a trivial and obvious battle as this one is utterly humiliating and embarrassing for you.

Especially since you just made a rookie mistake by trying to rush to work.

At least you’re willing to admit that you’re about to do something incredibly stupid.

Instead of rolling down the window and apologizing profusely or trading insurance information like what you’re generally supposed to do after a crash, you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out into the rain.

The guy is in mid sentence on his phone--something about giving directions and reporting a crash caused by ‘a dumb bitch’--when you slam your door closed and look up at him with blazing eyes.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that the idea of courtesy died with the beginning of your very existence.” you shout over the roar of the storm, the cars whizzing by, and the driver’s angry conversation over the line.

He stops yelling into his phone for a moment, jaw dropping open at your brazenness. You can see that he’s pissed, absolutely insulted, and you can already tell what kind of response he has in store for you.

“What did you just say to me?”

He steps forward with a threatening glare, puncturing your personal bubble until your back hits the side of your car. From up close, you can tell that he’s young, maybe around the same age as you. The sharp angles on his face create an illusion of older age. You know better than to be fooled, because a proper adult wouldn’t choose to wear ripped jeans on a rainy day or drive at sixty miles in a forty zone. A proper adult wouldn’t stand in the rain long enough just to fight a reckless girl and get their clothes soaked.

You’re aware of all this, yet you’re still fanning the flames.

“It’s shitty enough that I’m late for my internship. But to get hit by a self absorbed asshole? I must’ve murdered a whole town in my past life.”

“Are you kidding?” the guy scoffs, pounding his hand against your car. “I think you’re forgetting who fucking swerved into my lane without even thinking about it!”

“If you care to know, I checked three full times and saw a clear road!”

“Well damn then, let me call an eye doctor for your blind ass while I’m at it!”

“My ‘blind ass’ happened to keep your speeding ass in check!”

“Fuck me, you’re one to talk!”

“I may have lost a very important job opportunity because of you!”

“And because of you, my boss is going to slit my throat once he finds out that I wrecked his company’s car!”

You’re close to throwing fists by the time the police and ambulance arrive. You only break apart when an officer threatens to arrest the both of you if you don’t stop disturbing the peace. This makes no sense to you as the thunderous sky and building traffic are nowhere close to peaceful, but you step back and allow yourself to get examined by the paramedics.

On the other hand, the driver that had hit you is preoccupied with inspecting his car, running his fingers over the dent on his hood somberly as if he’d just lost a precious member of his family. Obviously, he has more concern for his vehicle than an actual person.

“Insolent prick.” you mutter under your breath when he later joins you in the back of the towing truck.

“I heard that.” he hisses back, the driver next to you shifting uncomfortably at your exchange of hostilities.

It takes hours to settle your dispute and walk away as calmly as you can with your car totaled and many dollars to spend. You contact the internship (Mark)

You hadn’t even bothered to learn his name.

#honestly i feel so relieved #bye #exo scenario #got7 scenario

18 notes · View notes

eddiektozier · 7 years

Text

It’s Not Gay When It’s in a Threeway

Richie and Eddie are best friends. Best friends share everything, right? So what’s Eddie to do when Richie pulls him aside to share some intimacy?

A/N: So yes this is based off the Lonely Island song and this is probably one of the stupidest things I’ll ever post.

Requested: LOL nooope

Word Count: 2,070

Warnings: Aged Up Character, Underage Drinking and Implied Sexual Content (if you wanna believe teenagers aren’t having sex that’s on you)

Eddie had spent all seventeen years of his life not attending a party. Not even so much as a birthday party so he’s overwhelmed pushing through the crowd.

He wasn’t even invited, none of the Losers were. Mike, who could hardly be considered a loser anymore, and his popularity sky rocketed when he joined the football team sophomore year. Earlier that week he was invited to a “small get together” by one of his teammates and Mike extended the invitation to the rest of them. Eddie and Stan were reluctant, but Bill persuaded that it’d be fun with them all together and that’d he make sure nothing happened to them. Richie then draped an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, cooing to Eddie that he wouldn’t let anyone lay a finger on his “Eddie-bear”.

Eddie shoved Richie off, ducking down and pretending to fix his shoes to hide his blushing face. Now Eddie squeezed between the end of the loveseat and a couple feverishly making out. Fuck know’s where Bill and Stan were, Mike was joking with some of his teammates and Ben and Bev were talking intimately in the corner. Eddie’s eyes combed until his eyes landed on Richie, who’s back was against the wall and smiling seductively as some girl grinded her backside against him.

Eddie was silently playing a game in his head. A sad pathetic game called “Drink Every time Richie Flirts With Some Girl”. Of course he hadn’t planned on drinking, but it was easier than being sober. There were few things Eddie would take to the grave with him. The showdown with It., the fact that some times his mother bathes him to assure there’s no weird marks or bumps on his body. And the fact that he was in love with Richie Tozier. Part of him always knew, but when Richie lost his glasses and shot up to 6’0 and grew his hair out into thick black curls and every girl eyed him up and down he knew for sure. Of all the fucking people on the planet, hell even in this town. It had to be him.

Him. Who was making his way to Eddie, but he wasn’t alone.

The girl he quickly recognized as Sheila O’ Connor held Richie’s hand, a red Solo cup occupying her other hand, and escorted him through the crowd. Richie’s eyes met his and Richie’s winked, making Eddie’s heart drop. Even in a crowd of people, even in another girl’s arms, he still made Eddie feel like he was the only one in the room. Eddie wanted desperately for Richie and Sheila to get separated or for her to throw up all her drinks, or trip tipsy or anything. Anything to stop them from heading upstairs. Eddie’d never been to a party, but he’s seen movies and knew what happened when couples went upstairs.

No amount of cuts or broken arms can compare to watching Richie disappear up those steps.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, fighting his moistening eyes and tight chest. Quickly he downed his drink and shot up from the couch, making his way to the kitchen. He made a concoction that was 1 part juice and eight parts liquor. It burned his throat and could feel fighting it’s way back up, but he was stronger. Eddie took another gulp, his whole body and face flushed.

“Hey Eddie! Where ya been man?” Mike asked, coming up and wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders.

“Partying what’s it look like?” Eddie slurred, looking up at Mike. The taller boy smiled, surprised.

“Really? I didn’t think this place was really your scene. I was coming to ask if you were okay. If you wanted to go or something.”

“No no no I’m totally fine. A-okay. I got all I need right here.” Eddie said, holding up his cup.

“Okay, but take it easy man. If you come home too fucked, you’re mom’s gonna make you spend the rest of senior year in the hospital.”

“Mhm. ‘M staying over at Richie’s.” Eddie started. “Speaking of fucked.” he added bitterly.

“Richie’s getting some?! No shit!”

“Would you two hens stop clucking? Especially behind your ol’ pal’s back.”

The two of them turned to see Richie walking towards them. Eddie fought to snap at him, too busy combing his eyes over Richie’s figure. His hair was disheveled and his lips were swollen, but other than that he looked no different than he went upstairs.

“Hey I was about to congratulate ya! Who’s the unlucky lady?” Mike said, elbowing Richie in the ribs.

“Ah ah ah a gentleman never kisses and tells. Shouldn’t you be with your buds talking about balls?” Richie said with no real heat behind the remark.

“Ha ha.” Mike said, making a face before leaving the two alone.

Mike’s arm was replaced with Richie’s and suddenly Eddie was following him.

“Walk with me Eds.”

“How many times have I told you to not to call me that asshole?” Eddie argued, trying to actually sound mad.

“You shouldn’t talk to me like that Eds. Especially after you see the surprise I have for you.” Richie purred in Eddie’s ear.

Eddie’s knees bucked at Richie’s tone, but could be easily misconstrued as stumbling tipsily.

“W-what surprise?” Eddie asked as Richie took the position of Sheila O’ Connor, holding his hand and turning to approach the steps.

“Oh Eds must we do this. What’s the point of a surprise if I tell you?”

Eddie’s heart hammered in his chest and he stared into Richie jean clad ass as they made their way up the stairs. A million thoughts ran through Eddie’s mind and yet he felt like wasn’t thinking at all. Richie lead him down the hall to the last room on the right.

“Richie-“ Eddie started, but stopped at the sight inside.

Sheila O’ Connor, nude except a lacy black thong, laying on the bed. She sat up and she smiled widely, her cheeks and chest flushed from alcohol.

“Is this him?” she asked, crawling forward on the bed.

“Mhmm. This is ol’ Eds.” Richie said, moving forward and sliding behind Sheila on the bed.

“He is cute! You didn’t tell me he was that cute!” Sheila said, giggling.

“Oh yes I did Sheila. Ain’t he the cutest?” Richie asked, wrapping his arms around Sheila’s waist and kissing at the back of her neck.

“Ooh yes definitely! Whatcha waiting for cutie?” Sheila asked, leaning back into Richie embrace as he now groped at her.

“W-what’s happening here?” Eddie asked, still in shock.

“I asked Sheila if it was okay if you joined. She wanted to see what you look like though. What you think Eds? Still want to party?” Richie finished huskily as Sheila half climbed on top of his, nipping at his neck.

Eddie’s eyes were still wide, in shock at what was happening and be propositioned. Richie and Sheila were now making out heavily, breaking so Richie’s shirt could be removed. Richie’s torso was thin, pale, but beautiful. Especially contrasting with his flushed cheeks as Sheila started to rub him below his belt.

“You got lead in your shoes Eds? Come here.” Richie said as he tore his lips from Sheila’s

The sight of Richie aroused made Eddie’s stomach flip and his shorts tighten. Slowly, he walked forward and closed the door behind him. As Sheila unbuckled Richie’s belt, Eddie locked the door. Eddie bit his lip, the realization hitting him. He was about to lose his virginity, about to have his first kiss. Sheila climbed off Richie’s lap and sauntered over to Eddie. Her lips were on his and it wasn’t bad. Eddie wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, but when she licked at his lower lip he knew to open his mouth. Sheila grabbed one of his hands and placed it on her chest. Eddie mimicked Richie’s movements and gave it a squeeze, causing her to moan into his mouth.

Eddie nearly jumped ten feet in the air when he felt a pair of lips on the back of his shoulder. He broke the kiss and looked over to see Richie’s chest. Looking up, his heart flipped at the sight. Richie stood over him, his dark eyes aroused yet soft and hesitant. “Is this okay?” Richie breathed, placing his hands on Eddie’s hips.

Fuck yes

Richie smirked widely and as Eddie realized he said that out loud, Riche’s lips were on his. It made Eddie’s stomach do somersaults and his head dizzy and like he was inches off the ground. Richie deepened the kiss and Sheila attacked his neck. Together they led Eddie to the bed and clothes were stripped, hands roaming as pants filled the air. At first it was odd to Eddie, the feeling going back to feeling weird to amazing. Kisses were swapped, one awkward and different to sensual and amazing. Soon it all felt beautiful and like he ascended to heaven right there in that bedroom. The way he was handled like china, but whispered to with an animalistic roughness. It was the best Eddie felt in his life. Sometime in the night he drifted off softly.

Birds chirped pleasantly outside and Eddie wanted nothing more to chuck the nearest object at them. The moment he opened his eyes it was like someone took a sledgehammer to his temple. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Way to make a girl feel special.”

Eddie’s eyes flew open and he turned his side at lightning speed to see Richie Tozier’s beautiful face inches from him.

“Holy shit.” Eddie breathed.

“That’s more like it.” Richie said with a smirk.

“Richie… last night…” Eddie trailed off.

Looking at Richie, his dark eyes wide and smiling, with his pouty lips puffed and practically glowing in the sunlight made Eddie throw caution to the wind.

“Amazing.”

Richie beamed at him, biting his lower lip. “Do you even remember any of it?” Richie asked, suddenly worried.

“Kind of… it was kind of weird, but then really nice.” Eddie finished bashfully. “Where’s Sheila?” Eddie asked.

“Down there.” Richie nodded to the other side of the bed.

Eddie looked over before sitting up and see a passed out Sheila on the bedroom floor, still wearing her underwear from the night before. Eddie froze.

“How long has she been like that?”

“Since sometime last night.” Richie said softly.

“When last night?” Eddie pressed, only for Richie to not answer.

Eddie looked back and Richie, who was avoiding his eyes. “It was me. Who made you… feel like that. Sheila was trying with you, but you kept blowing her off. For me.” Richie finished, risking looking up at Eddie.

“Oh.” was all Eddie said.

Richie squirmed as Eddie laid back down, dying for Eddie to say something.

“I think… I think-“

“Me too.” Richie cut off.

Eddie looked up at him. “Really? Richie you better not be fucking with me.”

“Well I mean Sheila’s hot and all, but I think you’re cute and fuck Eddie last night was incredible. Maybe I like both, but I really like you. Like ever since middle school.

Eddie’s eyes widened and he was sure he was dreaming, but his stomach flipped and he knew it all was real. Richie let out a sigh of relief as Eddie beamed at him. “Can… I kiss you?” Eddie asked shyly.

Richie laughed. “After last night you think you have to ask?”

Eddie laughed along, biting his lower lip before leaning up until their lips met. It was gentle, but just as nearly as incredible as last night. The two broke apart for air eventually.

“I don’t regret anything about last night, but I think my own breathing is giving me a headache and I’m never drinking again.” Eddie said and Richie barked out a laugh, causing Eddie to cringe.

“Even after deflowered, still so cute! Let’s go get some breakfast.” Richie ruffled Eddie’s hair, before climbing out of bed.

After dressing, the two help wrap Sheila in a blanket and laid her on the bed. Together the two walked hand in hand down the stairs, only to jump and the sound of the Loser’s loud applause.

“Aw yeah!” Mike yelled.

“Hot damn!” Bev exclaimed.

“To be a fly on that wall!” Bill said with a smirk.

“Keep it up and you fuckers can walk home!” Richie said, trying to fight a smile before they all left to Richie’s car.

#wow this got long #im so sorry yall #it (2017)#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #the losers club #reddie

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zentherainbowunicorn · 7 years

Text

Everlasting Party - Mystic Messenger Time Loop AU (pt 33)

<- Previous Chapter | Chapter Index | Next Chapter ->

Summary: You’re caught in a time loop during the 11 days leading up to the RFA’s party unless you can do… what, exactly?

13+ Small spoilers for Day 10 of Jumin’s route, mostly regarding his third Bad End.

A/N: Allllrighty, after another long break I have more EP chapters for you! I’ve already written the next few chapters, too, so look forward to it :) Thanks so much for the people who come back to read this! I recognize a lot of your URLs and it makes me happy seeing your tags/comments/likes on all the chapters. I always love feedback, so feel free to drop me an ask! (or even just write “AHHHHH” in the tags or something lol)

Un-beta’d because my beta is currently busy - I might look for someone to do the next couple of chapters, if anyone’s up for it. Let me know!

“I’m sorry for the trouble my friend has caused you.” V sits across from you in Jumin’s company car. Though night is falling, he’s still wearing sunglasses and you can’t help but wonder what Jumin meant when he asked V about his eyes earlier.

“No, no, it’s not his fault, really. I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to make such a big fuss, and I’m sorry you had to come out here to get me yourself…” You flip your phone over in your hands. “And um, I guess I didn’t really say this while we were at Jumin’s, but it’s nice to finally meet you, V.” Surprisingly enough, you really mean it; this is the first time you’ve met V in person. He’s a bit taller than you’d imagined, and his hair really is as blue as it seems in his profile picture. He’s also got a calming sort of presence you hadn’t expected, especially given how suspicious you’d seen him acting.

“Yes, I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’d hoped to meet you at the party.”

You really doubt there will be a party; not when you’ve screwed up things this badly. In fact, you’d been quite surprised that you woke up in Jumin’s apartment this morning, having gone to sleep completely convinced you were going to be reset soon. Between Elizabeth the 3rd’s disappearance, Jumin’s disastrous mental state, and whatever had happened on Yoosung and Seven’s road trip, almost nothing seemed to be going the way you had hoped. At least nothing bad had happened to V on the fifth day like it had so many times before…

“By the way, V… Seven was looking for you earlier. He seemed pretty distressed. Do you know what’s bothering him?”

You wonder if you see him twitch slightly at the question. “Luciel is… I’m sure he’ll be himself again soon. I’ve had some difficulties with my phone recently but I’ll get in contact with him when I can.”

‘Difficulties with his phone’ huh…

Should you ask him the other questions? Will it just reset? Does it matter if it resets now when this day is probably already a lost cause? But what if you’re wrong and it doesn’t reset tonight, but if you ask V the wrong thing you’ll get kicked out of this loop before you can find out what’s after today? It is the tenth day, after all. Just one more day and it’s possible you’ll be free of this loop… not likely, but possible.

Well… if you must, you’ll probably be able to get to this point again and make a different decision. But for now, you need to know. “You know more about Mint Eye than you’re telling us. Why would a cult like that be after us? And who is their hacker?”

V doesn’t reply immediately. It’s hard to read his expression in this lighting, especially with his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” he says slowly. “I’m afraid I can’t answer them all now. If you’re worried about the party, everything will go smoothly. I’d like to solve this problem without troubling you and the other RFA members too much.”

You already were bothered, though. How selfish of him to think he could try to solve everything on his own. “V—” you start, but he cuts you off as the car slows to a stop beside a building.

“We’ve arrived,” he says. “I’m sorry I can’t go to Rika’s apartment with you. I hope you’ll be safe finding your way back from here.”

“I…” You look out the window and see the familiar grand entrance to C&R’s offices, then glance back at V. “I’ll be fine,” you say, “but V—”

“I’ll see you at the party tomorrow. Please leave everything to me and finish preparing.”

You hesitate, but eventually open the car door and climb out. “Goodbye, V.”

You watch the car pull out of C&R’s driveway and merge back into traffic before walking towards your bus stop. Well, that was useless. V didn’t tell you anything you don't already know.

Does he think he's somehow protecting the RFA by keeping secrets from them? Why? Whatever the problem is, surely they can figure out a solution together. Jumin certainly has the resources, and Seven's hacking can get them the information they need.

Seven... you recall how he left the last chatroom seeming quite unlike himself. You'd tried to call him afterwards, but he hadn't picked up. Just what had happened to make him like that?

Your bus pulls up to the stop and you get on, pulling out your phone when you sit down. You find Seven's name in your contacts and dial his number.

It rings for a long time and you pull your phone away from your ear, disappointed, when suddenly there's a click. "... Seven?"

"Haa..." He breathes a sigh in your ear. "Hello..." he says after a pause. "It's you..."

"Yes, I called because I was worried. Are you... are you alright...?"

He laughs, or maybe he's crying – it sounds like an odd combination of the two. Seven, crying? "No, I’m not…” he says. “My heart’s crumbled into bread crumbs… So sad... my poor bread crumbs..."

Bread... crumbs? "Seven?" You hesitate. "Seven, you went to Mint Eye with Yoosung... didn't you? What happened?"

"Haha..." He laughs again, but his voice sounds like something inside him is breaking. "You don't really care about me though... you worry about everyone else... I'm nothing..."

He thinks you don't care about him? It's true you don't always understand his sense of humor, and you haven't really spent time with him in any of the loops the way you have with, say, Zen and Jaehee, but you never realized how much you relied on his quirky jokes and amusing chatroom antics until that was gone. You stare at your reflection in the window of the bus as the city zooms by outside. "I do care, Seven. You saw something there, didn't you? Help me understand."

He sighs loudly and doesn't speak right away. "The person who hacked the RFA app... the one who led you to the apartment. They're the same person." “Who is he? He was there, wasn’t he? You said you met someone.” Does he know Unknown? If you could just find out who he is…!

“He wasn’t supposed to be there…”

“What did he look like?” Your heartbeat thumps loudly in your ears. “Seven, is his hair bleached? With mint eyes?”

Seven is quiet and you realize your hands are shaking hard enough to drop your phone. You tighten your grip and press it closer to your ear. “Who is he? How do you know him?”

He’s not saying anything. Why is he so quiet? Say something, dammit! Does Seven know who Unknown is? Does he know why Mint Eye is after the RFA? What did they see at Mint Eye? What is Seven not telling you?

“Who is he, Luciel?”

“I can’t tell you… no one was supposed to know…”

“Seven, please.” You lower your voice. “Who is he? Why do you know him? And why is he attacking the RFA?”

There’s a faint beeping sound and the line goes dead silent. You pull the phone away from your ear. Call Ended, 2:23.

No, no, no. You’re this close to finding out who Unknown is. This close to answers, this close to maybe making it out of the loop. What happened during that road trip? Would Yoosung tell you? Does Seven just not trust you enough? Did you make another mistake?

You click the button to signal your stop to the bus driver and manage to get off and start walking back to Rika’s apartment.

You’ve made a mistake somewhere; you must have. Will you be able to do this loop again? But where are you going wrong? When Elizabeth escaped? Dealing with Sarah? Going back to Rika’s apartment while Jumin was in such a state had to be wrong, too… but why?

The familiar paranoia sets in as you step into the elevator to ascend to the 14th floor. But… Seven said he took care of whatever was happening at Mint Eye… so it should be okay… right?

You punch in the code to unlock the apartment door and quickly lock it behind you. All the lights are off. ...Did you turn the kitchen light off when you left?

Still standing by the door, you feel along the wall to flip the switch on. You’re just… being paranoid, probably…

Your fingers find the switch. Flick.

“You’re finally here.”

That voice.

No…

“It’s you.” You wish your voice wasn’t so shaky.

He’s standing in the corner of the room, making no motion to move towards you. Almost like he knows you won’t run away. His jacket hangs off one of his shoulders, giving you a clear view of the tattoo of an eye on his arm.

You let your hand fall to your side. In his hand… is a switch. Your breath leaves your lips in a puff and you can feel your heart sinking into your stomach. “Who are you?” You can’t bring yourself to look at his face, your gaze fixated on that stupid switch in his hand…

“I’m the angel who’s come to take you to paradise~” His voice has a somewhat playful tone to it. He’s not… teasing you, is he? Is this a game to him?

“You say that, but I know what that switch does.” You tear your eyes away from it to look him in the eye. “Don’t lie to me. Who is Seven to you?”

His mouth twists into a grimace. “Your precious redhead… is nothing but an annoyance. A vile bug meant to be squashed.” He looks at the switch in his hand. “He might have gotten us this time… but I plan to have the last word. Everyone went on a trip to find a new Magenta. Except me… since I have to take responsibility for everything and be here. I don’t deserve to be happy.

“I wanted to take revenge on him myself… but I still haven’t figured out the security at his house.” He clenches his fingers into a fist. “But there is one thing my saviour left for me. This switch… I’ll use it to give everyone a new beginning.” He glances in your direction, then looks away again. “I wanted to talk to you… but it’s too late, now. I messed up.”

You’re starting to question if he understands what the switch actually does. You take a slow step forward and his eyes snap to yours. He holds out the switch threateningly.

“Wait!” you say, holding up your hands. “Don’t press it yet. I won’t move.”

His brow furrows and he stares at you intently. You can see sweat beads on his forehead. Is he… nervous? “Tell me your name,” you say. Give me something, anything to go on…

His eyes widen, then narrow in suspicion. “Why don’t you ask your hacker,” he says, and drops his gaze to the object in his hand, his mouth set in a grim line.

Click.

***

Bzzt bzzt.

<- Previous Chapter | Chapter Index | Next Chapter ->

I always love hearing what you think, so leave a comment or send me an ask! Here’s a link to the masterpost of all my Mystic Messenger fics. Thank you very much for reading! ♥

#mystic messenger #fanfic #fanfiction #v #seven #unknown #cheritz #rainbow unicorn stuff #everlasting party au #i had a lot of fun writing this chapter #it's actually around twice as long as my usual chapters #the next few chapters are a bit longer too tbh #alllll the writing lol

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theolddarkmachine · 7 years

Text

Kingdom- Chapter Two

Gajeel has had the dream about dying for the blue haired girl for as long as he can remember. Which is weird, since he’s never met anyone with blue hair in his life.

Levy has always loved myths and legends. So much so, in fact, that she was currently getting her master’s in mythological studies.

What neither of them realized was that they were living a legend all their own.

AKA the one with a knight, a princess, and a curse that keeps bringing them together just to pull them apart.

Y’all, I am on a damn roll right now lol Lemme just hit you with ALL the Kingdom at once XD Also I’ve finally updated the fics page so everything is nice and pretty in one spot like it should be lol

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If there was anything Levy McGarden knew for certain, it was that she was not about to admit defeat to this library. The book she wanted was there, and dammit she was not going to leave until she found it. She pulled her cornflower hair back, preparing for an all out war against the unending shelves of books. The restricted area in the library was one of her favorite places in the building. It was almost deafeningly quiet, which would set some people on edge, but she found to soothe her. Only professors and a select few grad students were allowed general access to the restricted area, as the books there weren’t just mere books, but artifacts. Their pages held tales from times so far in the past they’d been long forgotten. Amongst the ancient leather and deteriorating paper, Levy truly felt at home. She’d always loved myths and legends, something she had gotten from her mother. Before she’d died when Levy was eight years old, her mother loved to tell her epic fantasies that she’d say was passed down through their family.

“The McGarden’s were keepers of tales, you know,” her mother always used to say with a bright smile before launching into a story. Levy’s favorite had always been the tale of the prince who fell in love with one of the subjects of his kingdom. As the story goes, he had been returning from a hunt one day with his royal guard when he’d seen her walking through the town, and that had been it. He would sneak out every day to see her, and every day his guard would come to take him back home to his father where he’d receive punishment for disappearing. Then one day his father, the king, fell ill and wished for the prince to ascend to the throne and take a lady of a neighboring kingdom as his wife. The prince knew what he had to do, but still he visited his love every day until the their final day together before the wedding.

“This isn’t a sad story though,” her mom always said with a quick ruffle of Levy’s hair when she saw the sadness in her honey eyes. “They truly loved each other and on that last day they made sure their love was known. Some love may last a lifetime, and some love may only last a fleeting moment. It isn’t the length of the love, but the depth, and their love sat deep within their bones. Loving each other had been as easy as breathing, and they knew they would love each other until the end of their days.”

Yes, it was her favorite story, and she always could tell it was her mom’s favorite too. Every time she told it, her eyes would twinkle and she’d tell it with so much passion that Levy could almost imagine her mother had been there. It was that same passion that pushed her to get her master’s in mythological studies. The stories she studied never ceased to comfort her the same way her mother’s stories had, and amongst the dusty, leather bound works it almost felt as if her mom was still there with her.

That, and apparently she just really loved the thrill of the hunt. She’d been digging through the shelves for hours now, and still hadn’t made in headway in finding the volume that she knew housed the story she was looking for. It was there, she could feel it deep down in her bones. Not to mention she’d seen it before. The problem was it blended in well with every other dark, leather bound book in the restricted area and she just couldn’t seem to remember where it had been last. Pushing her step ladder over to the next set of shelves, Levy climbed up and reached for a promising looking aspect. She held her breath as she pulled it from its home.

This was....

Not it. Her frustrated groan echoed around her.

“I’m sure you guys are just getting a kick out of this,” she hissed at the books as she went to push the collection back into its place. Suddenly time stilled as her eyes caught sight of another tome falling towards the ground from the other end of the shelf. The book hit the ground with a heavy thud and a small cloud of dust, falling open to a random page. Levy tensed up, staring at the fallen tome and waiting for the hurried footsteps of a librarian that would inevitably lecture her on the age of the books in the lower levels. Like she wasn’t already aware that she was privileged that she even got to be in the same room as some of these books. She wasn’t sure how the book had fallen, certain that she hadn’t knocked into the bookcase at all, and even if she had it wouldn’t have been enough to knock a book from it’s shelves.

The librarian never came, and she let out a sigh of relief before hopping down from her step stool to pick up the leather bound volume. Her eyes danced across the page it’d fallen open to, a shiver running down her spine as she took in the painted surface. On it was a knight in black armor with wild onyx hair to match. His eyes were red as blood and stared up at her from the where the book rested. She lightly drew her fingers over the page, tracing the intricate design of the dragon etched into his breastplate. The artist did a truly magnificent job. Levy wasn’t sure what story the unknown knight was from, but she could tell the artist had taken care in doing him justice. Picking up the book, she carefully closed it only to find that it was what she’d been looking for.

“Well that was lucky,” she chuckled into the silence. She’d known the collection of medieval tales was in this library. Hugging the old tome to her chest, she breathed in the old book smell. Call her weird, but she’d always loved the smell of paper and ink. After making sure she’d put the step ladder back in the corner in which it belonged, she headed out of the restricted area. The door clicked shut as it automatically locked behind her.

“Until next time,” Levy said under her breath before taking the stairs two at a time to get out from the lower level of the library. The light from the sun that filtered through the overhead windows nearly blinded her when she reached the main hall of the building. She really had been down there for far too long.

“So did you find what you were looking for?” The head librarian asked cheerfully as she appeared suddenly beside her. The sunlight glinted off her silvery white hair and it almost looked as if her light skin was glowing. Levy always wondered how someone so ethereal looking ended up in a job like head librarian instead of model, but who was she to judge.

“I did, thank you, Mirajane!” She said with a smile as she held out the book to her. “Mind checking me out?”

“Not at all,” the librarian said fondly as she the old volume from her hands carefully. Mirajane’s eyes widened as she took in the cover. With a touch as light as a feather, she stroked the leather. Her blue eyes flickered to look up at Levy quickly and then back at the book before she started to head towards the front desk.

“Do you know this one?” Levy questioned, wondering what that had been about.

“Oh no, I don’t think so,” Mirajane said, her cheerful tone slipping slightly as she scanned the book. “I just thought it looked like one that wasn’t allowed to leave the library is all.” Her tone returned to it’s upbeat nature. It’s nothing, Levy thought to herself as she handed over her student ID. I’ve just been down with the books for too long. After scooping the book back up, she thanked the librarian and headed toward the front door, unaware of Mirajane’s somber stare as she walked out of the library.

***

There was a chill in the air that nipped at her nose and warned of the impending winter that was soon to follow. Holding the book closer to her chest almost as if she was protecting it from the cold, she waited for the light to change so she could cross the street. A familiar sensation of being watched danced across her skin. Normally she wouldn’t have tried to find the eyes that caused the goosebumps to race across her arms. She was used to the feeling. Ever since she could remember she’d randomly feel the stare of someone that wasn’t there. When she was younger, she’d tell her mom she felt like she was being watched just to be told she was being silly, and after being told you’re silly so many times you start to think you are. It had been some time since she’d felt eyes upon her, and she had started to think that she no longer needed to worry about the phantom eyes that watched her.

There was something different about these goosebumps though. Wherein she normally felt a small seed of fear take root in her veins, this time she felt a slow burn of yearning deep within her. That’s when she saw him. Standing on the other side of the street was a man staring at her, mouth slightly agape in shocked recognition. Silver studs lined both sides of his nose and his eyebrows, and his raven hair framed his angular face. She felt her own mouth drop as an electric current ignited across her skin, eliciting a small gasp from her lips. A smile tugged on one side of his mouth almost as if he heard it. He looked dangerous and beautiful at the same time, causing her to feel almost like she imagined a mouse felt when faced with a black mamba. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to look away, holding his gaze as a small tug of familiarity buzzed at the back of her mind.

Then the light changed, breaking the spell.

With the feeling of his eyes still on her, she hurriedly stepped into the street, completely unaware of the truck that was barreling towards her.

*******************

#gajevy #Gajeel X Levy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #kingdom #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #OOOOOH WHAT IS GONNA HAPPEN #I HOPE Y'ALL ARE PICKIN UP THE HINTS THAT I'M LAYIN DOWN #lol idk if they're hints cuz they aren't that subtle but you know #whatever #HAPPY CHAPTER TWO YALL!

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subjisoo · 7 years

Text

Check In chapter 7

Words: 2.1k

Genre: ??? idk drama? angst? not sure yet lol

Synopsis: Seungcheol and his best friend Wonwoo have been running a small drug dealing business for the past two years, along with Wonwoo’s boyfriend Mingyu on the books and new recruit Hansol to manage the second hand shop they use as a cover story.

This Chapter: A bit of platonic Hansol/Mingyu action which honestly ???? I really enjoyed writing them together they've very cute bless

Warnings: homophobia mentions

Author’s Note: based on the MV for Check In which I edited into a kind of trailer for this fic and u can watch it here.

Check In: chapter one / two / three / four / five / six / read on ao3

Mikyung was a lot shorter than her son, but even more intimidating. Hansol had just gotten back from his lunch break and was opening up the till when the door opened.

She walked briskly to the till and Hansol stood to greet her, extending his hand. “You must be Mikyung, I’m Hansol. Nice to meet you.”

Her grip was firm as she shook his hand. “Where is my son?”

“Upstairs.”

As Hansol turned to point to the stair case, Seungcheol ran down it, almost tripping over the last two steps. He held out his arms to Mikyung.

“Ajumma!” he pulled her into a hug and she laughed.

Pulling back from him, she held his arms and looked him up and down. “Seungcheol, you’re growing up nicely! How are your parents?”

“They’re good. They’ve been asking about you as well.”

“I must get in touch with them, I’ve been meaning to for a while now.”

Seungcheol caught sight of Hansol watching them from the till. He put a hand on Mikyung’s shoulder and gestured towards Hansol.

“This is Hansol, he’s our employee.”

Hansol knew that Mikyung thought Wonwoo was straight, but it hurt him a little when Seungcheol referred to him as just an employee.

Mikyung regarded him, then turned back to Seungcheol. “You may want to rethink that; he has a weak handshake.” She patted Seungcheol’s shoulder and walked past him up the stairs. “I’m going to see my son.”

“Okay, I’ll be up in a moment,” Seungcheol called after her. When he turned back to Hansol his face had changed.

He moved to lean on the till, groaning. Hansol sat down again.

“That was something.”

Seungcheol dragged his hands down his face and looked at Hansol through his fingers. “Sorry I had to say you were just an employee. She’d tell my parents.”

“That’s okay, I get it.”

Seungcheol looked over his shoulder at the stairs, lowering his voice when he turned back. “You might not want to hang around up stairs while she’s here. It gets messy.”

As if on cue, Wonwoo thudded down the stairs, Mikyung yelling after him from upstairs. He ignored Hansol and Seungcheol as he all but ran out of The Shop, slamming the door behind him.

“Shit, sorry babe I gotta deal with this.”

Hansol leant forward for a kiss, but Seungcheol was already heading towards the stairs. His voice faded as he ascended the stairs, shutting the door at the top of them. The Shop was suddenly very quiet and Hansol felt very isolated as he waited for something to happen.

It was half an hour before Mingyu came down stairs and into The Shop. Hansol stood up on instinct, only sitting down when Mingyu was standing by the till. He pulled the spare stool out and sat on it, leaning over to rest his head on Hansol’s shoulder. After freezing a little, Hansol relaxed and put an arm awkwardly around Mingyu to help support him.

“How is it up there?”

Mingyu groaned. “Homophobic. I don’t know how Seungcheol does it; acting like what she did was good and actually encouraging it.”

Hansol shrugged with the shoulder that wasn’t occupied by Mingyu’s head. “I guess it’s just a way of surviving.”

Mingyu lifted his head with a sigh. “Do your parents know?”

Hansol nodded. “My aunt got married to her wife in New Zealand recently, but they’ve been engaged for like, sixteen years. So I guess it was normalised in my family.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t think I ever really came out to them, I just told them I was seeing someone and it happened to be a guy and they were fine with it.”

Mingyu nodded. “That’s pretty ideal. Congratulations to your aunt, by the way.”

Hansol smiled, the warm, proud feeling welling up in his chest. “Yeah, she’s really happy. What about you though?”

“I mean there was no aunt, but I came out to them when I was fourteen as bi and my mum came out back to me.”

“She’s bi?”

“Yeah. Turns out I’m not, and my dad is still a bit weird about it sometimes, but it’s not bad, you know?”

“Yeah. We’re pretty lucky really.”

Mingyu sighed, reaching over and holding Hansol’s hand. “Very lucky.”

Hansol looked down at their hands, not sure what do to about it. He decided it was just a friendly gesture and that Mingyu needed support, so he went with it, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb.

They sat in silence holding hands for ten minutes before Wonwoo got back. He stepped inside and held the door open for a girl around Hansol’s height. She stopped just inside the door, staring at Hansol and Mingyu as they still held hands.

Wonwoo shut the door and walked over to the till, placing a hand on it and looking at the ceiling. “Where is she?”

“Still up there, Seungcheol’s talking to her.” Mingyu tightened his grip on Hansol’s hand a little.

Wonwoo looked back to Mingyu, leaning forward to kiss him. Hansol averted his eyes, catching sight of the girl behind Wonwoo. She smiled at him and he returned it, wanting to introduce himself but feeling weird about doing it while holding Mingyu’s hand as he made out with Wonwoo.

When they finished, Wonwoo straightened up. “This is Hyejin. Hyejin this is Mingyu and Seungcheol’s boyfriend Hansol.”

Hyejin stepped forward, nodding politely to the two of them. “Hey, sorry I have to pretend to date your boyfriend.”

Mingyu laughed a little. “It’s okay, circumstances call for it, so.” He didn’t finish his sentence.

Wonwoo looked at Hansol and Mingyu’s hands, finally noticing them. He then looked at Mingyu. “Are you okay? Did she say something to you?”

“No, I’m okay. It’s just a lot to process.”

Wonwoo nodded slowly and turned to Hansol. “Look after him and don’t go upstairs. It’s not safe.”

With that, he and Hyejin left to go upstairs, leaving Hansol shocked by the fact that Wonwoo seemed to care about his safety.

“I didn’t think he liked me.”

Mingyu laughed, letting go of Hansol’s hand and standing up. “He likes you a lot. Can we go to yours? I don’t wanna be here.”

“Yeah, neither do I.”

Mingyu helped him lock up the till and close up The Shop, flipping over the sign and trying to ignore the muffled voices from above them. Hansol texted Seungcheol to let him know he had closed up early and the two of them stepped outside and started walking towards the university.

They ended up sitting on Hansol’s bed with his laptop on a chair in front of them so they could watch a movie. Neither of them were really invested in it, but it was light hearted and they could breathe. After the movie, they showed each other shitty memes on YouTube, discovering that they had a similar sense of humour. As it got later, Hansol pulled two cup noodles from under the small sink in the corner of his room and ran the tap till the water was hot enough.

He set the noodles on his desk and sat back down on the bed as Mingyu shut the blind on the wall next to them. It was the first time they had spent time together just the two of them, which seemed like a strange thought to Hansol, but Seungcheol had always been with them. He was surprised by the ease with which he was able to talk to Mingyu and the comfort of their silences.

They left a fail compilation playing as they ate their noodles, Mingyu lying on his side and propped up by his elbow as Hansol sat cross legged. Mingyu finished first, passing his empty cup to Hansol who put it back on his desk.

“Does Seungcheol ever play with your hair?”

Hansol was confused by the question, swallowing a mouthful of noodles and clearing his throat. “Yeah, why?”

Mingyu looked like he was trying to figure out how best not to embarrass himself. “It’s just that, he was playing with my hair this morning and it calmed me down a lot and I just,” he sighed heavily, “I need calming down right now.”

Hansol smiled, taking one more mouthful and putting his cup next to Mingyu’s. He sat back against the head of his bed and gestured for Mingyu to move up the bed. He did so, resting his head on Hansol’s knee and reaching to reposition the laptop. Hansol slowly threaded his hands through Mingyu’s hair and felt his entire body instantly relax. He rubbed in circles, pressing a little harder at the top of his neck and behind his ears, combining Seungcheol’s technique with what he could remember of hairdressers doing the same.

As Mingyu started another video, Hansol reached over to his desk and picked up his copy of Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu. They stayed like this for a long time, Hansol’s hand rubbing Mingyu’s head all the while.

“I’m too scared to go back.”

Hansol shut his book, keeping his place with a finger. “That’s understandable. You can stay here if you want.”

Mingyu sniffed, and Hansol realised he had been crying. “Thank you.”

They shut the laptop and got up from the bed, Hansol digging through his drawers to find Mingyu a shirt that would actually fit him. He fished out the biggest shirt he owned, but it still left a sliver of skin exposed above the waistband of his pants, causing the two of them to laugh. Hansol retrieved his pyjamas from under his pillow and turned his back as he got changed. When Mingyu saw his matching button up set, he laughed.

“I know two years really isn’t that big of a difference, but sometimes you really do seem a lot younger than us.”

Hansol pouted, not taking it seriously. “They’re more comfortable than your shirt-boxers combo.”

Mingyu ruffled his hair. “Has your mum labelled the days on your underwear?”

Hansol laughed, walking to his chest of drawers and pulling out a pair of boxers, showing Mingyu the inside of the waistband. “She has, actually.”

“Shit, I don’t think my parents ever did that.”

Hansol shrugged, putting the boxers back in the drawer and going back to his bed. “Right, how are we gonna do this?”

Mingyu regarded the bed as well. “Top and tail?”

Hansol wrinkled his nose. “If you like being kicked in the face.”

“Can your feet reach?”

Hansol shoved him a little and they laughed together, then falling into silence as they looked down at the bed. Hansol shrugged. “Fuck it.”

He turned off the lights and threw off the covers. “Left or right?”

“Right,” Mingyu said, climbing onto the bed first.

“Good, I have to be close to the door.”

Hansol climbed in after him and they spent a couple minutes shifting around, trying to find a comfortable position. Hansol was glad he had been given a king single rather than a regular. In the end, Hansol lay on his side facing the door as Mingyu did the same behind him. There was a space between them, but Mingyu still slung an arm around him.

“Hey, Hansol?”

“Yeah?”

“No homo.”

Hansol laughed. “That’s cool bro, only counts if the balls touch.”

This made Mingyu shake with laughter; a loud, almost booming sound that shook the whole bed. “Shit that’s good.”

“Thanks. Hey I think your phone’s ringing.”

Mingyu sat up, reaching over Hansol to pick up his phone from the desk and answering it. “Hey, sorry I was gonna call you.”

The room was quiet enough for Hansol to hear Wonwoo on the other end.

“Where are you?”

“Hansol’s, he’s letting me stay the night.”

“I need you.”

Mingyu lay down on his back. “What kind of need me.”

“My mother is here and Seungcheol and I had a fight.”

Mingyu sighed. “Not tonight, Wonwoo. I’m sorry.”

“Please.”

Hansol heard Mingyu hold his breath for a moment before he replied. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“Please don’t do anything dumb.”

“Okay.”

“Wonwoo?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Hansol felt a pang of sadness.

“I love you, too.”

“Stay safe.”

“Okay.”

Mingyu hung up and let out a long, deep sigh. Hansol turned over to face Mingyu.

“Are you okay?”

“No. I want to go to sleep.”

“That’s okay. Do you want to be the little spoon?”

Mingyu gave a weak laugh. “I would say yes, but you really are very short.”

Hansol smiled at him, knowing the dim light from the window was enough to see his face by. He then turned over again to face the door and let Mingyu wrap an arm around him.

#seventeen #hip hop unit #meanie #cheolsol #check in #mine

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