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citydreamgrls · 4 years

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yule ball

george weasley x fem!reader

words: 3,629

a/n: the growing love I’m getting on all my weasley fanfics is amazing, I cannot thank everyone enough so here’s a yule ball one shot instead hope u enjoy !! :))

warnings: mentions of alcohol (?)

George had decided he wanted to go to the yule ball with her the second they announced it, unable to miss the excitement light up in her eyes as the girls around her squealed.

With the fear that someone else could beat him to it, he raced to catch her, Fred mumbling something about how they had a class with her first thing as he left. But he just ignored him, weaving through hoards of people filing out of the great hall.

“Woah steady,” Y/n had laughed, seeing the redhead running towards her in the hallway like a madman. “Who’s died?”

“You wanna go to the ball with me?” He asked, eyes wide and waiting, but still she giggled at him and nodded.

She had presumed he’d asked her because it was an easy choice, they were all friends for a long time, so it would make sense for him that she’d say yes. On the other hand, there was a part of her that was excited to be his date to the ball. As much as she loved Fred equally, something about his brother’s gaze made her heart warm just a little and the idea of spending more time alone with him made her blush to herself.

“He has to have a thing for you,” Angelina pressed, having thought the same thing for years on end. This was just adding fuel to her argument. The twins were messing about across the classroom, unbothered by the dark haired teacher sending them daggers.

“We’re going as friends,” Y/n laughed, trying to finish her potion before Snape came round to check them. Her friend was no help as usual, just flicking through the textbook and gossiping about her day.

“Did he say that?” She asked. “Well, no bu-” “No buts, it’s a date y/n.” “Stop it. He sees me as a friend, that’s all.” She scoffed, finally completing the task and sighing with relief as Snape got nearer.

Deep down she hoped Angelina was right, that her talk of his glances and lingering smiles when they were together was true. Y/n wanted more than anything to not make a fool of herself though, which had held back her feelings all these years in fear of rejection.

That evening she sat with the twins at dinner, as she had done since the first night she arrived at Hogwarts. Fred was doing his best to turn his water into wine, with no luck and George was grilling her about the ball as she tried to eat.

“No I haven’t picked a dress George, I only found out today.” She scoffed, slapping Fred’s hand away from her plate as he tried to steal another roll. “Stop it,”

“Well I just heard some of Ginny’s friends talking about it,”

“They’re probably just over-excited,”

“Aren’t you?” “I’m looking forward to it, but it’s not my wedding day. I have more time to plan.” George nearly choked on his food at the mention of weddings, hoping his half-wit brother hadn’t mentioned anything. But Fred was too busy eating to care about their conversation, so it’s possible he had actually managed to keep his mouth shut this time.

As the week passed slowly, most people flew into the frenzy of finding a date for the ball, or picking out a dress last minute. But y/n was grateful that she had organized it all earlier on, as Angelina’s constant need for an opinion was becoming more and more distracting.

“What about this one?” She pushed the magazine into the sleeping girl’s face.

“I’m not awake,” Y/n grumbled.

“You are now, so look!”

“It’s very nice.”

Angelina groaned and fell back onto her own bed.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“They’re all very good choices, you’ll look great regardless. And I'm sure Fred will think the same.” It was nice to not be on the receiving end of the teasing as Angelina had been asked to the ball by the remaining twin, it gave y/n all the ammunition to joke around with her friend.

“Yeah but your dress is gorgeous, everyone will be looking at you.” She huffed, making the other girl snort herself awake with amusement.

“My dress is black, that’s it.”

“Yeah well it looks really good on you, and I’m sure George would think the same.” The girl groaned, knowing better than to let her guards down with her best friend around.

“Go to bed already!”

“I need to choose one y/n,”

Y/n got up out of bed, grabbing a blanket and heading for the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping in the common room,” She glared and huffed off, her friend still calling after her.

“But the dress!” It called for a big eye roll as she reached the bottom of the stairs, spotting one of the twins with her back to her near the fire. He turned round after hearing Angelina’s voice booming.

George laughed at the sight of her wrapped in a blanket, a scowl plastered on her face.

“Can’t sleep?” He teased.

“Don’t. I’m very sensitive.”

“Oh don’t I know it, remember when Fred and I tried to prank you with that faulty alarm clock.”

“I almost cut both your heads off.” She laughed, only now able to see the funny side of it, and sat beside the boy as he finished writing a letter.

“Good thing you didn’t, or else you’d have no date for the ball.” He smiled at her like he always had done, but paired with those words it felt so much more different.

She couldn’t hide her own smile if she wanted to, turning away a bit as she did.

“Angelina won’t shut up about it.” Y/n pulled the blanket over herself as George let her lay down on him, staring into the fire as it burned brightly.

“I’m sure she’s just over-excited.” He teased her.

“I got my dress by the way, so you don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

“What’s it like?”

“You’ll find out at the ball nosey.” He nudged her shoulder, making her laugh ever so slightly. It made his heart swell, he loved being the one to make her smile.

They stayed like that as y/n began to drift off, George not wanting to move her, so he just stroked her hair lightly and let the fire burn out into the night.

When they woke up, it was morning and neither of them had moved from the common room sofa. Fred was shaking his brother awake with a yawn.

“Get her up, it’s late.” He grumbled and the boy just nodded, shaking y/n until she rose quietly.

A few days later, when y/n was coming back from the bathrooms with her hair freshly washed but still wet, she heard the true commotion of the Gryffindor girls preparing for the ball the next day. It was a flurry of face masks, nail varnish and teeth whitening strips.

“It came!!” Angelina screamed in joy, bursting into the dorm with a package almost as big as her. She had been worrying about whether or not her dress would arrive before the ball, after spending days trying to decide which one was perfect, but it had done so just in time.

She had barely had a chance to hang out with the twins lately, being too busy studying for her classes and helping Angelina sort out everything. Not having time to sit down for a meal when her homework had begun to pile up, so she sacrificed that time to make sure all her essays were completed in time.

Angelina had gathered a whole group of girls into their dorm to hang out, so y/n excused herself to the common room to paint her nails, not wanting to gas them all out with the fumes. To her relief it was empty, giving her some time to relax. It had struck her how nervous she actually felt about the ball now that it was close, she worried whether she could go the whole night with George before her feelings got the best of her.

She sighed and pulled a foot up to the sofa, reaching down to gently swipe the colour across her nails. The heat of the ever-burning fire helped to dry them off after each coat.

“Can’t sleep?” A voice from behind her teased.

Y/n turned around, smiling when she saw Fred and George coming from the hallways.

“There’s a slumber party going on up there, I’m staying well away!” She sighed, going back to her nails.

The boys took a seat nearby, still in their uniform. She squinted at them both for a second, only George cracking a small smile as she observed them.

“What have you been up to?” The girl accused.

“Nothing at all,” Fred blatantly lied.

“Tell me now.”

“We set off stink bombs in the Ravenclaw bathrooms,” George scoffed, unable to keep their classic prank a secret.

“You’re weak.” Fred complained, slumping further into the armchair.

“You two are like kids”

They stayed with her for a while, Fred quickly getting bored and going off to get changed. But George was a little longer, not wanting her to be on her own all night. He stayed silent as not to distract her, instead he just watched her concentrate. Maybe he had seen it the other night, maybe it had slipped his mind then, but he realised how much he appreciated her face.

How it lit up so much when she was happy, how it glowed in the sunlight. George also adored her without makeup on, not that he’d ever tell his brother that, but she was truly a natural beauty at its best. Wet hair, pyjamas and no makeup on. Yet he was suddenly realising how incredibly lucky he was that she even agreed to go to the ball with him.

“You okay?” Y/n asked, not looking up but now noticing his silence. Something he never did.

“Uh yeah fine,” He laughed it off. “I’m going up to bed.” She looked up, surprised but still sporting a smile as he stood up.

“Sleep well.” He nodded in response and fixed his hair slightly. “Oh and George.” He turned, now behind her on the sofa. She twisted around just a bit, not wanting to smudge her work. “Come here.” She grinned and he leant down, hesitantly.

The girl reached a hand up and ruffled his hair, a laugh spilling past her lips perfectly. George almost blushed like a little boy as she did it, quickly laughing it off and hurrying up to bed before y/n could notice just how flustered she made him.

If y/n had thought the previous night had been manic, then the night of the yule ball was an apocalypse. She’d heard every girl’s problems circulate through her dorm as she tried to do her makeup, a new one arising with every passing minute. She didn’t mind too much, not having to fix them she focused on herself and getting ready in time.

George was sitting in the common room, with a lot of the other Gryffindor boys who were waiting for their dates, fixing each other's robes and checking their hair in the few mirrors. He wasn’t focusing much, just watching his feet as people around him talked about something stupid. He was nervous now, just doing nothing. The footsteps were light, and he hadn’t noticed them until Fred nudged him.

“Look,” He whispered to his brother, nodding to the archway beneath the dorm room steps.

Y/n stood there, surprised to see so many faces staring back at her. All the boys in the room were shocked at her change of appearance, used to her being in the school’s uniform or just comfy clothes.

Now she had her hair perfectly curled past her shoulders, and that black dress fitted her perfectly. George thanked god silently in that moment that she had kept it a secret from him, because it was incredible.

She laughed lightly as her date stood up amongst the small crowd, quickly going over to take her hand. The noise resumed, conversation finally returning but the looks not stopping until they left the common room. Y/n’s heels sounded as she passed by them all, hand in hand with George who couldn’t have felt luckier in that moment.

“You look amazing by the way,” He beamed as they walked through the castle together towards the great hall, where already most of the school was dancing.

They danced for hours, the boy spinning her round over and over just to see that smile across her face when he did. Not that she could stop smiling, being with George made it so easy to forget about everything else in the world. She never wanted it to end.

“I like being with you y/n,” The tall boy had whispered to her while they danced slowly amongst other couples, she had rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed. Her throat froze up as she tried to reply calmly.

“I’m glad you asked me,” She answered, after a painstaking few seconds. Letting the boy release the breath he’d held since he’d uttered those words.

They danced in silence, a mutual understanding of their feelings spreading between the two. Fred and Angelina smiled over at them, both of them now knowing the truth as they saw their friends finally doing what had been hinted at over the years.

Once the dance was over, neith y/n nor George wanted to part ways. So the redhead snuck her out of the great hall, out of the castle and down to the black lake where they could spend just a little more time alone. It was late now, and the girl hoped that everyone would be too tired to come looking for them, maybe then she could stay with the Weasley boy all night.

Her dress was short and the night was cold, especially by the lulling water.

“Take this,” George took his dress robes off and wrapped them around the girl, his hands slowing as her face shone in the moonlight. She blushed at his gaze, making him laugh lightly. They sat by the water, the boy with his arms close around her as she still shivered only slightly. “We can go back if you’re too cold?” He offered, not sure why he was still whispering, but it calmed her.

“No, it’s fine.” Y/n reassured him. “I don’t want to go back yet,”

“Me neither.”

Hours passed as if they were fleeting seconds, ticking by without their knowledge until the sun began to rise and they laughed together. It peeked over the surrounding mountains, hitting them both with a blanket of warmth. She smiled up at George, her eyes glimmering perfectly. No matter how hard he tried, the boy couldn’t help but fall in love with her every time their eyes met.

She made him so brilliantly nervous, so much so that he longed for that moment she would smile or laugh because of him, and he’d forget how to breathe. That feeling in theory would scare George, but in practice it was the best thing he had ever felt.

Until y/n took that jump and reached up for him, her hands going to his face gently. That feeling of her undivided attention made him want to run into the lake with glee, as the girl's gentle lips hit his hard. He could feel that built up tension in her kiss, that she too had been wanting this as badly as himself.

George would later tell his brother that he could’ve died happy in that kiss, he would have let the girl stab him in the back if it meant she would press her lips to his just one last time. Which of course made Fred tease him endlessly, but he was in a daze over her.

But in the moment he took his chance, with the knowledge that it could be his only one, he kissed her with all the passion his body had. His arms wrapping tight around her waist as she ran her hands through his long hair, making him fight back a desperate whimper. The sweet taste of her felt like a drug upon George’s tongue as he held her closer by the second.

A cough from behind startled the pair, causing them to pull away, but the boy wouldn’t let go of y/n. Scared that she wouldn’t come back.

“Thought I’d find you sluts here,” Fred laughed, obviously drunk from whatever he’d been hiding in his robes all night. He squinted at the sun as he stumbled down the hill towards his brother and friend.

Y/n stood, her hand quickly slipping into George’s as she too didn’t want to let go just yet. His heart leaping bounds as she squeezed tight.

“Have you two been here all night?” Fred slurred, wobbling into his brother’s side. George propped him up and they walked up the hill towards the castle.

“Uh yeah sort of… have you been looking for us all night?” Y/n laughed as they reached the courtyard, letting the twins have a much needed rest on the stone wall.

“Angelina went off to bed so I went to find Dean and Lee for some drinks. The last thing I remember is Mcgonagall waking me up outside her classroom.”

“You slept outside transfigurations?” George scoffed, slightly out of breath.

“Must have,”

It seemed that more people had started waking up now, as Angelina appeared from the castle, running across the courtyard to see her friend.

“Darling!” Fred cried out, almost falling over his own feet. The girl just laughed and ignored him, George quickly telling y/n he’d see her later before dragging his brother away.

“So… you obviously never came back last night.” Angelina grinned, seeing her friend watch the redheaded boy she’d been with leave. She was still in her dress and heels with George’s robe over her shoulders.

“I’ll tell you about it once I’ve slept,”

“I bet you haven’t gotten any sleep you naughty thing!” “Lina! It wasn’t like that.” Y/n laughed, taking her best friend’s arm and heading up to their dorm.

After sleeping most of the day, she then found Angelina waiting excitedly on her bed for the girl to tell her every detail of the night. Once she was satisfied with the story the girl went downstairs, leaving y/n to wash up and wake up properly.

It was a sunday, and people were either still hungover like she had been or having to do last minute homework in the library. Luckily she’d prepared well and had the whole day to do as she pleased.

“Fred’s out like a light,” George laughed, making the girl look up from her book. She’d come down to the common room to sit by the fire, still cold from spending the night in a short dress and the boy’s thin robes, which she had yet to give back to him.

He came and sat beside her, smiling as she pushed her book away and gave him her full attention once again. The boy put an arm around her, letting her snuggle into his side as he had done all those nights ago.

“About this morning,” George started, feeling the girl in his arms tense a little “I’m sorry I didn’t make the first move.” Y/n went loose again, smiling up at him and shaking her head.

“I don’t care about that, I’m just glad you didn’t shove me away.” She joked.

“Are you kidding? I’ve had the biggest thing for you, for what feels like forever now?”

“Really?” She squinted, watching his face for any falters.

“Oh ask Fred, if he ever wakes up from his coma, I’ve told him more than I can trust him with. All of it to do with you.”

The girl blushed again, just urging him to hold her closer.

“I’m glad that you kissed me y/n, I wish I had done it sooner but really… it was all perfect.”

“Thank you for taking me to the ball, and being my date, and for feeling the same way about me.”

The two kissed once again, their faces illuminated by the fire’s glow as it crackled lightly. Everything around them faded away as both George and y/n wandered whether it was just them left in the world. At least that’s what it felt like.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Fred came sloping down the stairs wrapped in a thick blanket. He had been calling for his brother for about ten minutes now, with no response. That was because the slightly older twin had put a silencing spell on the room, not wanting the sweaty creature he had once known as family to ruin any moment he could spare with y/n.

“I think i’m gonna vomit.” Fred announced from the bottom of the steps. His face pale and gaunt. George didn’t look over before he spoke.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” He laughed, presuming the twin was just poking fun. Y/n’s gasp at the sight before her, however, led him to believe differently.

“Oh he’s gonna puke alright.” She grimaced, getting up and rushing off before she witnessed anything more. “I’ll see you at dinner George!” She called back making him smile, even as she was escaping the grim sight of Fred she still wanted to see him later.

He would have remained blissfully ignorant in his thoughts of y/n, if it wasn’t for the sound of belching beside him that ripped him away from that happy moment.

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filipinoizukuu · 3 years

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I have the notebook in hand now I beg you for explanation

HSBFNDSJNFVN my dearest snail oh jeez 😭 i have about maybe dozens of stories about accidentally being y/n, so i'm prayin and hopin none of my IRLs see this. Some details hidden for privacy.

LONG story ahed, so be warned.

So. End of winter to early spring about a year before COVID-19. I was still a little snot-nosed high schooler hanging out with my friends and generally being a nuisance upon society. For those of you that have never seen me in real life, the first thing you need to know was that I was adorable, female-presenting, and had the appearance of a goody-two-shoes star student down to a T.

Now, the second thing you need to know is about my friend group and how a majority of them were guys.

I'm not talking about like, darling boy-next-doors and fellow star-student nerds. I'm talking about teenage boys. GUYS guys. Rowdy and wrestling in the hallways, getting into fights, and pulling (harmless) pranks on each other kind of guys. The gross type because I love my friends but even I can admit they're kind of gross.

One day after school, we're hanging out in someone's truck on the way to a get-together. There are about four of us just chilling, me being the only girl. Someone's phone goes off and we look to see one of us pick up his phone.

Now, this friend, let's call him S.

S picks up the phone and starts talking to it. We hear bits and pieces of the conversation and he sounds a little nervous. He puts the phone down and looks at us with a weird expression and says he needs to get home.

"What gives, S?" we ask, slouching in our seats and drinking sweet tea, like all other self-respecting teenage hooligans. "Who was that?"

S explains to us very carefully that he just got off the phone with his auntie and that she wants to have a sit-down and dinner with him. We coo and make fun of him a little and acquiesce, driving on over to his place to drop him off and embarrass him in front of his parents as friends do. We tell him as much when S lights up and looks at us like he just got the world's best idea.

(Heads up! It was not.)

"Guys! I have a better idea."

The rest of us look at each other. "Which is...?"

"What if I pretend to have a girlfriend to impress my Aunt?"

Record scratch. Pause. I suddenly remember that I am the only pretty 'ole lady in this small and stuffy truck. In an instant, all eyes on the vehicle are on me.

No, hell no. I think to myself, there's no way I'm ever going to do this. This is how every fanfic starts and I am absolutely not emotionally available enough to do this. And you know what? That's exactly what I should've said.

Instead, what came out of my mouth was this:

"Buy me a tub of ice cream and I'm all yours."

And thus, the devil's deal was sealed.

Minutes later, we're exiting the truck and looking over at S's white picket fence and perfectly maintained garden. S goes with me and I suck it up, bracing myself for the performance of my lifetime. We do not hold hands and our other friend (E) walks behind us while dying of laughter. S opens the door and we are immediately greeted by the sight of his kind-looking Auntie welcoming him with open arms.

S waltzes in.

"Auntie... this is my girlfriend, Codi."

Now, a quick word about me and how I was in real life at the point of this story. I looked the part of an adorable overachieving student, and while my grades did match up, my attitude sure as hell didn't. I'm naturally a very loud and boisterous person. I 'get into fights' and curse just as well as the rest of them. I had a reputation in a few areas for having the knack of making my underclassmen cry. The point being, I wasn't a saint.

But I was a damn good actor.

"Hi Auntie!" I greet with the peppiest and highest voice I could manage. I skip towards her and shake her hand, smiling like a cracked-up cheerleader in a Coca-Cola ad from the '80s when they made it with actual cocaine. "Your nephew S is just about the sweetest thing ever. He's so nice and smart and I'm incredibly lucky to have him!" I lie through my teeth.

In the background, I can hear E on the verge of deranged cackling while S just stands there and coughs into his fist like an emotionally constipated tuberculosis patient.

My Limit of the Day has been reached, so I shoot Auntie S a quick grin when she enthusiastically thanks me for my services and then haul my ass out their door, E hot on my heels. We leave S behind to deal with whatever shitstorm came after and I tried my best to not look back.

The moment the old truck door slams shut behind us, E abso-fucking-lutely loses it, guts busting with how much he's laughing. We high-tail it to the get-together and I make him swear up and down to not mention it for the rest of the day. It's over, at this point, the thing's been done and there's no other damage than my sanity and maybe S's relationship with his aunt. At least, that is what I thought.

Hours later, S texts me.

hey so um. remember that thing earlier?

Odd question, because how could I not?

yeah so. my aunt stayed for dinner and my parents arrived early and they asked me about school so. long story short... my whole family thinks we're dating.

Predictably, I lose my mind. I ask myself how I got into this situation and then imagine the sweet, sweet ice cream waiting for me at the end of this ride. I'm like, okay! This isn't so bad! It's actually really funny if I think about it enough. At least it's contained, right? I say my famous last words. It's not like I'll ever actually meet his family again.

So I go to bed and decidedly Pass Go, Collect $200 on any fanfics or other friendly drama that night.

The next week, I walk into school. I'm going about my normal business when I bump into my friend group. They pounce on me like a hound of dogs, making rounds of congratulations with varying faces of amusement. "What?" I go, like an oblivious idiot.

From like 15 feet down the hall, a familiar figure turns the corner and I lock eyes with him. Something clicks into place and I realize that there were actual witnesses to S's convoluted brownie-points shenanigan that I didn't consider.

"E," I say. "you are so fucking dead."

My friend group, who E had apparently told about my whole schtick as S's Rent-a-Girlfriend, breaks out into laughter and dodges as I power-walked my way to kick E's shins with the fury of a thousand 5'3 suns.

We went about the rest of our day until it hit lunch break, and of course who else to apparently wait for me in front of my class other than S himself.

S grabs me by the wrist and pulls me along throughout the campus. We're lightly conversing the whole time, me weaseling a time and date to my beloved reward tubs of ice cream as promised. Without me realizing it, we end up in front of two very familiar rooms.

Another thing, really quickly, about this whole storyline. S was not just an ordinary friend, you see. He was special, in a way, in such that his two closest friends were my crush (at the time) and his best friend who I'd recently rejected. Now those two have a whole 'nother story on their own which I'd deign to discuss publically, so you'll have to settle for those apt descriptions.

So, those two aforementioned mutual friends of ours walk out of those rooms and turn to make eye contact with us. They laugh, good-naturedly, and I sigh in relief because it seems that of all people, E had not gotten the hot gossip to them just yet.

I beckon the two of them over, being none the wiser and thinking we could take our break together when the final straw hits

S throws his arm over my shoulders and pulls me closer.

"Hey guys, Codi's my girlfriend now!"

... You can guess where the argument fits now in this timeline.

(I got my ice cream very shortly after. We're all friends now and it's all water under the bridge! This was a long story so if you've made it this far, just know that this is all but a funny memory to look back on for me and I've since moved on.)

#i want to make it clear i never really liked him like that then and i dont like the other guy like that now #if this makes yall laugh let me know i guess. this turned into a HELLUVA monster #asks #snail #long post

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just-a-poor-boy-queen · 3 years

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Part 16 of Jimercury Kid series

Baba had always told Khaleel that listening in on other people’s conversations was “very rude,” and he should never do it. But this time, as far as the five-year-old was concerned, it really wasn’t his fault.

It all started when one of his toy trains broke while he was playing with it, so he wandered off to find his daddy to see if he could fix it. He heard Daddy’s voice coming from the kitchen, accompanied by Uncle Phoebe’s, but before he could reach over and turn the door handle, he heard Daddy say, ‘I’m telling you Phoebe, he can be such a little brat sometimes.’

Khaleel froze, his big blue-green eyes going wide as he heard the anger in his Daddy’s voice, and he immediately dropped his hand back to his side. He wasn’t entirely sure what a “brat” was, but from the way his daddy spoke, it wasn’t something good. And his daddy used the word “little” so he must have been talking about Khaleel. No one else in the house was little. Except maybe the cats.

‘I know, I know.’ Replied Uncle Phoebe. ‘Trust me, I’m aware of what a little shit he can be.’

Khaleel felt his cheeks burn. Again, he wasn’t exactly sure what a “shit” was, but he knew it was a naughty word that he was never allowed to say. And Uncle Phoebe had used the word “little” as well, so they were definitely talking about him.

‘He was pestering me all morning and now he’s in a mood.’ Daddy went on. ‘Honestly, I don’t know why I put up with it.’

The hands holding the toy train began to shake. Khaleel hadn’t meant to annoy his daddy that morning. He just wanted him to stop gardening so he would play with him. He was upset when Daddy said no and told him to go and play inside, but he hadn’t thought he was that cross with him.

‘I swear,’ Daddy went on, ‘the next time he acts up like that, I’m going to put him across my knee and give him a good spanking.’

Khaleel shook so hard, he almost dropped the train altogether. He knew exactly what a spanking was. He still remembered a few years back, when he had scared Daddy by grabbing his shears and Daddy had smacked him on his bottom as punishment. It hadn’t really hurt, but it was still scary, and Daddy had promised never to do it again.

But Daddy had lied.

Uncle Phoebe laughed loudly in response, ‘I’d pay to see that!’

Khaleel’s heart sank. He thought Uncle Phoebe loved him, that he might stick up for him. But even he wanted him to get a spanking. Tears welled up in the little boy’s eyes and he ran away from the kitchen door as fast as he could, upstairs to his bedroom where he hid under his duvet, trying to muffle his sobs.

He didn’t want a spanking. He had to be on his best behaviour from now on.

Freddie hadn’t heard a peep out of Khaleel all evening.

He arrived home from the studio just before dinnertime but wasn’t greeted by the excited five-year-old jumping into his arms like he usually was. He found Khaleel in his bedroom, playing quietly with his trains and when he asked the little boy if he was okay, the child simply nodded and continued playing without saying another word.

Freddie was worried but tried not to let it eat away at him. He had always been the more overprotective parent and Jim often had to reassure him that sometimes kids just did weird things, it wasn’t always something to be alarmed about. So, he allowed Khaleel to remain in his room until Phoebe called them all to dinner.

When Khaleel arrived at the table, he was as white as a ghost. He pulled out his chair carefully, as if terrified he’d knock it over and used his cutlery in slow motion, bringing it up to his mouth with great care that it didn’t fall off his fork.

‘Darling, are you alright?’ Freddie asked, finally cracking as he leaned across to feel his son’s forehead, ‘you don’t look well.’

Khaleel just nodded and went back to eating, glancing at Jim nervously every now and then.

Eventually, his parents fell into conversation, and he breathed a small sigh of relief as he finished his meal without making any mess. He had even eaten all his vegetables, even his carrots, which he hated. Daddy would definitely be happy about that. (1/2)

He reached over to pick up the glass of milk beside his plate, when Freddie suddenly said, ‘Khaleel?’ making him jump out of his skin. The glass slipped from his hands and toppled over onto the table, milk spilling everywhere.

‘Whoops!’ Jim cried, jumping up to grab the paper towels from the kitchen nearby.

Khaleel immediately burst into tears and jumped out of his chair, running to Jim, and wrapping his little arms around his father’s leg before he could leave the room. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry Daddy! I didn’t mean to!’

Jim blinked in surprise at the child’s hysteria and, forgetting the paper towels, kneeled down to gently pull his son close. ‘Hey, hey, don’t worry. It was an accident, sweetheart. No point crying over spilt milk.’

He was trying to make him laugh but Khaleel just cried harder, throwing his arms around Jim’s neck. ‘Please don’t smack me, Daddy! I’m sorry I was naughty, I’m sorry!’

‘Kenny, what on earth are you talking about?’ Freddie got up from his chair, looking from his son to his husband, ‘what’s going on?’

‘I-I heard Daddy talking to Uncle Phoebe.’ Khaleel stammered between sobs, still clinging to Jim. ‘He s-said I was a little brat a-and he was g-going to spank me next time I’m naughty.’

Freddie looked aghast. He glared at Jim with fire in his eyes. ‘You said what?’

The colour drained from Jim’s face. He managed to prise the little boy from his bear hug and softly told him to go and wait in the lounge while he and Baba had a little chat. Khaleel continued to sob and beg, but once he was reassured that he wasn’t going to be punished he calmed down and allowed Phoebe to take him into the lounge to play with his toys. No sooner had the dining room door closed, Freddie erupted.

‘I can’t believe you, Jim Hutton!’ He thundered, not caring if the whole neighbourhood heard him. ‘How dare you – how dare you say such things about our son!’

‘Freddie.’ Jim said, unusually calm considering the situation. ‘It’s not what you think.’

‘Not what I think?! Our child overheard you talking about smacking him! Something you promised never to do again! How could you?!’

‘Freddie-’

‘No wonder he’s been so quiet today, he was terrified of being punished! I can’t believe you’ve been having such vile conversations behind my back, and to Phoebe of all people-!’

‘Freddie, I was talking about you!’

Freddie’s voice immediately cut off and he allowed his mouth to hang open a second, his hand still raised in a jabbing motion. The pair of them stared at each other, the only sound to be heard being that of Romeo and Lily faintly squabbling in the background.

Then Freddie started to laugh. Uncontrollable giggles that made him clutch his stomach and almost keel over, cackling until the tears pricked at his eyes. He could hear Jim laughing too and soon the pair of them were near hysterics, clutching each other as their bodies shook along with each chuckle, until Freddie took a deep breath and managed to pull himself together long enough to speak.

‘You were talking about me?’ He panted, wiping at his eyes.

Jim nodded, looking a little embarrassed. ‘I was still annoyed about that argument we had this morning – you know, when you were nagging me about forgetting to rake the leaves yesterday.’

Freddie pouted. ‘I was not nagging.’

‘I told Phoebe that I thought you were acting like a brat and if you behaved that way again, I’d put you over my knee.’ Jim’s face was flushed red, though he couldn’t help chuckling again. ‘Poor Kenny must have overheard us and thought I was talking about him.’

‘Oh dear.’ Freddie sighed, rubbing his tired eyes, exhausted from the sudden influx of emotions he had just experienced. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that before I got my facts straight.’

‘You were just being your usual, protective self.’ Jim replied, understanding as always. ‘Now the question is, how are we going to explain this to Khaleel?’

‘We’ll think of something.’ Freddie turned to start walking towards the dining room door. Before he left, he glanced back at Jim over his shoulder, sticking his backside out rather suggestively. ‘So, you plan to spank me, do you? Is that a threat, Mr Hutton?’

‘No, Mr Mercury.’ Jim replied, smirking. ‘That’s a promise.’ (2/2)

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

Ahhhhh another (sort of) spanking fic! I loved the banter at the end ahaha—I can imagine what they did after putting Kenny to sleep lmao.

Speaking of Kenny, oof, bless his little heart. You've displayed the simple reasoning of a child so well—his daddy used the word little, thus he must be the topic of conversation. Poor baby, being so afraid to break any rule.

Also lmao, Jim and Phoebe gossiping about Freddie is my new favourite thing.

I absolutely adored this part, anon! This was so sweet, and sensitive and funny and flirty—an entire package💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

#ask response #jim hutton #freddie mercury #freddie and jim and their baby #anon writing

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operationcavill · 4 years

Text

Untangled - Part 2

“Would ya look who’s here,” Y/N’s heart drops and she can’t bring herself to turn around. There’s no way he’s here for a second time. “He’s wearing a white henley,” her sister leaves with hopes that her little sister gets some juicy gossip and most importantly, breaks out of her shell. A white henley was her weakness on any man but Henry, she was done for.

Inspired by: Butterflies // Kacey Musgraves

Y/N - Your name

S/N - Sisters name

B/I/L - Brother-in-Law

B/N - Brothers Name

It’s been exactly one week since Henry met that funny girl at the bar. Y/N. Even her name sounded sweet. He couldn’t help but think about her legs, and how nice her ass looked, but he also couldn’t knock the thought of how shy she was and how cute her blushing mannerisms were; her fingers fiddling with the neck of the beer bottle or thumbing at the necklace she wore. Y/N just radiated something, and it was too enticing to him. Those fingers and the way her nails would feel digging into his scalp when he,”Hey, Henry,” a PA snaps him out of his daydream, “it looks like rain isn’t letting up so they’re halting until it passes. See ya tomorrow.” He nods and sends a text to his brother who is currently keeping Kal company while he’s working overseas.

H: Did Kal get a walk in today?

B/N: Took him and the kids out twice. Checking in early today. Got plans this evening?

H: I haven’t decided but probably just going out to dinner with some work mates again.

B/N: Liar.

H: What?

B/N: You’re gonna go back to that bar.

H: Hey, it was a nice bar.

B/N: It was a nice girl.

H: I can’t forget a cute face.

B/N: Alright lol be careful out there

Henry slides his phone in his pocket and heads to his car. The grey clouds bring him back to that evening on the patio once again. He was so hung up, just after a couple of hours. What’s gotten into him? His drive back to the hotel was quiet. He was trying his best to concentrate on the car, just the care and nothing else. But maybe she’d let his hand rest on her thigh while he drives. Would she hold his hand on the way back his room?

He exchanges nods with the hotel staff he passes on the way to the elevator, being him usual polite self even when exhausted.

——————————

Henry watches a small group enter the bar and to his enjoyment, she walks in with them. He excuses himself to the restroom, but his fellow crew mates know better, he’s going after her. He rolls his eyes at their snickers but lets out his own chuckle.

“Hey there,” He looked even better than before. The Shirt.

“Hello.” She hopes he can’t hear her heart pound in her chest, “Becoming a regular, are we?”

“What can I say? I like a good cocktail,”

“Benny does know how to make on hell of a drink.” She winks at the bartender and they share a laugh.

The bartender blows her a kiss, “Anything for you, Tequila Princess,”

He raises his eyebrow and smirks, “Tequila Princess? What is it about you and tequila?” He becomes confused as Benny scoots two shot glasses in her direction.

Y/N sighs as she turns toward Henry, “Thanks, Benny,”

He glances at the small glasses, “I’m actually not a tequila guy.”

She laughs, “These are both mine.”

“Oh,” He’s adorably wide-eyed, “is this that trick your sister mentioned?”

“Yes,” Y/N holds the two glasses in front of her face, “cheers, Henry.” After placing both shot glasses in her mouth, she rest her hands on her thighs, throws her head back and gargles the liquid before swallowing. She took the drink with absolutely no grimace or chaser, no salt or limes. Her face is completely still as if it were water. “and that is the trick. It’s not exactly mind-blowing and it’s a gross sound.”

“What the hell,” He backtracks in case he offended her “I mean, how are you not positively sick right now?”

“I can’t taste it.” He throws her a look, “It doesn’t burn or anything. So, in school I told a few friends that I couldn’t taste tequila. They dared me to gargle it to prove it, and being young and stupid, I did. That’s where the Tequila Princess came from.”

“Am I entitled to use that nickname?” He’s so handsome.

“Only if you want me to walk away right this second.”

He surrenders his hands in the air, “I shall never call you Tequila Princess ever again.”

“Good,” He offers her a beer but asks for a water instead, “thank you.” Henry looks visibly tense as the bar gets a bit more crowded. She can sense it in him, he’s getting a nervous. She assumed he would be used to it.

“Hey, look, our bench is free.” He liked that, that they had a bench. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, tired, but good.” He looks into her eyes and notices that they’re a darker shade than before, “How was your week?”

She smiles sweetly, “It was great, actually. Sorry to hear that you’re tired.”

Y/N is turning Henry into a puddle of mush with her kindness, “S’alright. We actually cut it short today cause of the rain.”

Pointing at her sister and brother-in-law, “Those two almost didn’t want to come this weekend because S/N hates driving in the rain.” He admires how close she must be with S/N, and wonders if they fought like monsters as he did with his brothers when he was young, do sisters do that?

“Do they visit every weekend?”

“No, you just happened to be here when they do visit,” Something splashes and she hears a playful, ‘oops’. She looks up to find a very beautiful woman holding an empty glass and a grin you could compare to the Cheshire cat.

“I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin your, um, shoes.” She looks at Y/N’s boot with what seems to be distaste.

“It’s ok, we all get a little clumsy.” Y/N is not the type to be confrontational, especially when she knows people are watching, “I’ll just go get some napkins.”

Henry interjects, “Please, let me.” He gets up so quickly that the woman in the conversation can get a word in.

Her eyes follow his behind before turning back, “Listen, I don’t want to come across as a bitch, but there’s so many guys here at this bar that are on your level.”

Y/N raises her eyebrows, “My level?”

She clears her throat, “Yeah, like you’re super adorable but come on.” She’s younger than Y/N. She has those extra long legs and perfect eyelashes, her boobs still up to her neck.

The frustration in her chest grows as she tries not to put little miss spider legs in her place, “All I had to do was smile to get his attention. You had to interrupt us and spill your drink on my shoes.” S/N notices the glare in her sisters face, this doesn’t seem friendly at all.

She makes her way over, trying not let Y/N notice. She hears her hold her own, which isn’t surprising but she knows her anxiety can get the best of her. She almost wants to laugh at how bold this girl is. S/N knows she’s very nosy but this is her little sister, is she supposed to ignore such a situation? She peeks and sees Henry eyeing the two as well. He’s not that far away, he has to be hearing this.

Spider legs rolls her eyes, “He’s just really-“

Henry arrives with the napkins, bending down to wipe off her boot, “Really into the conversation we were having, excuse me.” He stands, turning his back to the woman before sitting down. He’s not sure who is more shocked, this rude woman or S/N as she pretends not to eavesdrop behind a topiary. “You are adorable, by the way,” He wipes her knee, even though there isn’t a trace of liquid on it, “Beautiful, really.” The secondhand embarrassment is almost too much for Y/N to bear, why is spider legs still stand here? I feels like an hour before she finally marches off.

“That was sweet of you,” Her voice is smaller than he expected but he can see the rose tinge in her face, “thanks.”

He gives her a full smile this time, “I have a feeling things might have gotten a bit out of hand if I didn’t step in.”

She scrunches her nose, “I’m not exactly argumentative, but —”

“Not you, Darling,” Darling, “your sister his trying to hide, just there.”

Y/N watches her sister rush off from behind the plant and act like she didn’t hear a word, “Jesus, S/N.”

He was completely sure of it now. Henry was more than intrigued, he wanted every part of her, “You’re very feisty.”

“Feisty?” She’s never heard that one before.

Henry does his best to put on a feminine impersonation, “All I had to do what smile to get his attention,”

“Shut up,” She flirtatiously swats at his hand, “being shy or, like, reserved, doesn’t make you a doormat.”

Henry could grab her and kiss her right here on this bench, their bench. “Come on. Let’s get back to it,” He nudges her leg with his elbow, “what do you do? Tell me some fun facts.”

"Fun facts?” She clasps her hands, “Ok. Um, well, I’m a painter, sometimes photographer. I live in a tiny apartment with a loud neighbor. I like crime books, like to read when I can. This is not my natural hair color, and I actually don’t care for alcohol that much. People are usually surprised by my tattoos. I also have an obsession with travel sized toiletries. Hows that?”

He’s always gone for the creative type, he should’ve guessed it, “A painter with tattoos who likes to read, and likes tiny shampoo. Got it.”

“Your turn,” She takes a sip of her water, “oh, you can’t say acting because that’s too obvious.”

“Hmm, Ok, I like coffee over tea. I’m really into horror movies and gaming. I enjoy cooking but hardly get the chance. I hate running. I think people who sleep in socks are complete psychopaths. I also like to read. Like visiting home. God, I sound boring,” he laughs, “what else? Ah, I really like mornings. I like working out first time in the morning.”

“You’re not boring at all,” She smiles, “I can’t say that I like working out. I like to cycle, but that’s about it.”

He blurts out, “That explains it.” Oh no. Did he just accidentally talk about her ass?

“What?” To his horror, he has no way to recover from his remark.

He tries to change the topic, “Oh, nothing. You need another water?”

Y/N narrows her eyes, “No, explains what?”

As her sister walks by and hands Y/N a plastic cup full of lemons. She matter of factly states, “He’s talking about your ass, idiot.”

“Ohh,” This time they both blush. Henry hasn’t had cheeks this rosy since he was a boy.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” He awkwardly bites his lip and tries not to die of embarrassment, “Well, um, anyway, I’m, uh,” Y/N looks up at the sky and jumps as she gets a chill. He watches her tear into a lemon wedge, “Are you just eating lemons?”

“I like sour things,” Her eyes squint, as if she’s expecting something.

He tries to see what she’s seeing, “What are we looking at?”

“It feels like it’s gonna rain again.”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I think we’re ok,” He watches her eat another wedge, “do you two have some sort of lemon ESP?”

“Of course, we’re sisters. I didn’t check the weather but it definitely seems like it’s gonna rain storm.” She scrunches her nose again, he takes note that it must be a habit of hers.

“I hope not, I like sitting out her with you.” Henry listens to her go one about how her and her sister have always just ‘got’ each other, more so than others with their own siblings. She has a best friend, B/F/N, that she has a very similar relationship with. They share stories of their teen years and the dreaded mishaps that are the early twenties. Henry, with beer in his mustache, says, “I should’ve grabbed more napkins,” he wipes his mouth, letting Y/N see the time on his watch. She grabs his wrist to get a better look, but doesn’t state the time. He looks, “Oh, it’s almost 3 hours since I got here,” He checks his phone to see that his fellow co-workers let him know they were headed back to the hotel. It’s just him now.

She opens her mouth to speak but a large rain drop hits her forehead, making her go a little cross eyed, “Well, would ya look at that?”

“I’m sure it’s just a little bit of sprinkling.” Theres a sudden crack of thunder and the sky lights up, welcoming an instant downpour.

He makes sure Y/N gets back inside first, wishing he had a jacket to cover her with, “I told you it was gonna rain.” He absentmindedly tries to cover her head with his left arm, but he was too late. Her hair has fallen victim to the chilly October rain, as has Henry’s clothing.

She can’t help but look at his body, just like the rest of the women in the bar, “You alright?”

“Yeah, just a little cold,” She wants to tell him that his shirt is sticking to him, making him look like a greek god. That god damned henley.

Henry awkwardly shifts, pulling his shirt from his skin, “It is kind of cold, isn’t it?”

S/N arrives and he knows this is his last chance with Y/N, “We’re gonna go back to the hotel before it gets bad out here. Johnny said he’d stay, if you want to stay.” S/N Looks at Henry and back her Y/N, wanting her to take a chance.

“No, I’ll come,” She looks at him, hoping to God her mascara didn’t run too much, “Well, um, I’m going to go before it get worse but it was wonderful seeing you,” She touches his arm only for a few seconds, “maybe I’ll run into you again.”

“Hopefully,” He watches her leave, thanking whoever invented the stationary bike, but already missing the conversation. Her icy fingers gave him goosebumps of his own, but he welcomed it. They were soft and he liked her sparkly nail polish. It reminded him of a hot wheels truck that his nephew gave him. He loved how cozy she looked and, shit, Henry didn’t give her his number. He forgot twice. He thinks to himself, “What the fuck is the matter with me?”

[Note: Please excuse any writing mistakes. Thanks for reading 💕 ]

#my posts #henry cavill #henry cavill x you #henry x you #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavil fanfic #text #henry cavill fluff #untangled #writing #my writing #hc #fluffy #DC #superman #actor henry

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

Note

15 Anxceit?

Y’all really out here asking for that angst, aren’t you. Do you guys know the last time I wrote Hurt/Comfort? It’s been Eons. I’m rusty.

Summary: Virgil gets kidnapped.

Words: 2604

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @thenaiads @treasureofpriam

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist || Prompt page

Keep Breathing

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but you have to trust me, Okay?” The voice says over the phone. “You hear me, Love? Virgil?”

Virgil can hear him. He can hear him so clearly it hurts worse than the throbbing in the back of his head, or the bruising on his ribs, or the knife wound in his shoulder. Virgil can’t remember the last time words had cut so cleanly through the crackling air like a blade all on their own.

He shouldn’t have been surprised though. Given who was speaking. Dee always did have that way with languages, slipping his tongue around foreign syllables and phrases and lulling Virgil to sleep on restless nights with just his voice, a book, and fingers treading through his hair.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” Dee tells him, in perfect English. “I promise.”

Virgil exhales shakily, just one breath away from sobbing. There so many things he wants to say, but they all get caught up in the lump in his throat.

He wants to scream, but he knows where that will get him, knows what that would do to Dee. He wants to cry and beg and curl up in a ball where nothing can touch him, but the first two haven’t done anything in the past endless hours, and the last one has been made impossible by the way his arms were zip tied behind his back and around the pole. He squeezes his eyes closed and tries to pretend like the voice of Dee over the phone is him really just sitting next to Virgil on the bed talking him out of a panic induced spiral.

“Just breathe for me, Liebing,” Dee says. “Just breathe. I’ll get you out of there.”

Virgil inhales sharply. “I-- I know,” He manages with a wet laugh. “I kn-now you will. And I-- I’ll kill you m-myself for this.”

He thinks Dee nearly laughs, one of those wet, terrible laughs of his that only came out when he was nearing his breaking point, but the phone is pulled away from his ear at that moment. He strains after it in a panic, but his captor give him a sharp kick to the side and Virgil falls back against the pole, with his shoulder screaming in pain.

“There,” The criminal says, “Proof of Life, Mr. Ekans. Your lovely fiancee is still breathing, although if you don’t follow my orders exactly, he won’t be for much longer.”

Virgil thinks if he wasn’t so terrified out of his mind, he might have found that funny. Dee? Following someone else’s orders? Ever since Virgil had met him in Third grade Dee had avoided rules like the plague. When he had disappeared after highschool, Virgil had thought that Dee had gone off and died somewhere in a ditch, but he had returned just seven years later, with that same smirk and that spark in his eyes like he knew everything Virgil was thinking in any moment.

They hadn’t been friends, but they had been acquaintances. Once or twice they had been lab partners in Chemistry, and they had nodded to each other in the halls.

It was ridiculous that Virgil hadn’t even noticed how much he missed that normalcy, that routine, that quiet interaction, until the day before Graduation when Dee had invoked a Senior Skip Day and Virgil had ghosted between classes without seeing him at all. It was even more ridiculous that Virgil had turned that sad feeling over in his chest a billion times and realized somewhere north of 3:24 A.M. that he had had a crush on Dante Ethan Ekans for three years based just on nods in the hallways and that one time Dee had offered him part of a sandwich when the school lunch had looked particularly terrible.

Then Dee hadn’t shown up to Graduation. Or the last day of school.

Virgil had found out the week after from gossip in a friend group that Dee had packed up his bags and gone for a journey to find himself with no returning ETA.

And again, Virgil hadn’t been friends with him so it hadn’t made sense that he felt angry not to have been told this directly. But the weight of that realization had crushed his tentative heart where it was in his chest.

There had been other boys, because seven years is a long time and boys were pretty, but they had never worked out. They had asked too much of him, or expected something different, or loved too brashly. At the end of each relationship Virgil had found himself lying on his bed wondering what had happened to the brunette boy with the nearly yellow eyes who once helped him light a Bunsen Burner.

Virgil had gone to college. He had gotten a BA in Culinary Arts, with an emphasis on Baking and Pastries, which literally no one had seen coming, including himself. He had gotten a lease and opened up a bakery three counties from where he grew up and sent his mother danishes on the weekends when he couldn’t visit.

Then two months later, Dee had walked right into his bakery like he had never left. Virgil had nearly dropped a pan of muffins at the sight of him. That smile was the same, and those eyes, and habit of picking at his nails when he was nervous. But he had yellow highlights in his hair and a tattoo of a snake on his back and three scars over his knuckles.

“You might not remember me,” Dee had said as if Virgil had ever been able to forget him, “But we went to high school together and I...I’ve traveled all over the world and still think you are the most amazing thing in it.”

And Virgil had remembered why he had fallen for Dee in the first place all over again.

When Dee had asked Virgil to marry him four years later, he hadn’t hesitated to say yes.

Because it had been Dee, and Dee had chosen to stay in that town with Virgil, had chosen to pick up a business job, had chosen to to go on several dates with Virgil, had chosen to stay through every fit and fight and argument, had chosen to get down on one knee and offer Virgil that ring that was on a necklace around his neck right now.

Dee had also casually forgotten to mention that he was freaking loaded until the moment that Virgil had been walking out of his bakery nearly dead on his feet last night and someone had swung a crowbar directly into the back of his head.

“And I’m not sure I need to remind you what will happen if you call the police,” Virgil’s captor says airily, “But I will anyway--”

Without warning the man turns back to Virgil and swings his heel directly into Virgil’s wounded shoulder. Agony rips through Virgil’s entire being, drowning out all of his thoughts until all there was left was a burning, blazing pain and his own screams. Tears streamed down his face, choking him as he wrestled against the bindings in an attempt to curl around the injury. His vision turns white and black like TV static and his sobs echo throughout the empty warehouse like they were mocking him.

Faintly, he thinks he can hear Dee’s voice.

Faintly, he registers the captor over him, is delighting in Virgil’s pain.

Faintly, he recalls the price the man just put on Virgil’s life, and that Dee didn’t hesitate to agree to it.

The criminal over him ends the call with a click of a button, and Virgil whimpers. His shoulder feels like someone was holding an open flame to it, his wrists burn where the zip tie are latched far too tightly to his skin.

“Hmm,” the man says softly, “I can’t say I see what he sees in you.” He reaches down and holds Virgil by the jaw, turning his head from side to side to examine him, as if he’s a piece of meat for sale. Virgil’s skin burns coldly at the touch, like its frostbite threatening to take over his whole body and kill him on the spot.

“Liebing,” His captor says, teasingly. His free hand shifts to his pocket and he brings out that switchblade again-- Virgil tenses to get away from it, even with his shoulder weeping lava. With a shri-ckk the metallic knife slips out, still streaked with crimson where it had been lodged in Virgil’s shoulder earlier when he had talked back too much.

The man uses the blade to lift a piece of Virgil’s sweat matted hair from his face. It’s close, too close, and Virgil’s lungs beg for air he doesn’t dare give them.

“P-please,” He chokes.

“P-please,” The man mimics, with a cruel smile. “Your future husband seemed to be in an awful hurry to get you back. He has twenty hours; I wonder how much fun the two of us can have while we wait.”

Virgil squeezes his eyes closed, trying not to shake. The knife tip boops his nose and the man laughs releasing him easily. In another moment Virgil hears the sound of tape ripping and feels the sudden force of his mouth being covered.

“Shhhh,” The man says, using his thumb to rub away a stream of Virgil’s tears.

Virgil doesn’t dare open his eyes until he hears those footsteps retreat all the way across the warehouse and the door opens and closes as the man leaves him alone.

Virgil twists his wrists again, but it only succeeds in turning his hands into a sticky sweltering mess and his shoulder whines in pain again. He grunts through the duct tape hanging his head to his chest.

Dee promised him he’d be okay. Dee didn’t make empty promises. He lied sometimes, like he lied when he called in sick to work that time that Virgil took off and they spent the entire day cuddling and watching conspiracy theories on TV, or that time that Virgil’s baby cousin Ed’s hamster died and Dee had told him it had gone on a perilous journey to defeat a dragon that was too dangerous to take Ed with him, or that time that they had gone for dinner at Virgil’s parents and Dee had told his mother that the potatoes were the best that he had ever had while shoveling it into a napkin under the table.

Dee lied, but he did not make empty promises.

He promised Virgil he wasn’t going to leave again and then he got a job in office building; he promised Virgil to find that one brand of chocolate Virgil liked even though he had to go to eleven different stores to find it; he promised him that they would leave that business dinner party the second that Virgil got uncomfortable, even if that was only twenty three minutes in; he promised him that one day they were gonna get married on a beach with the sea salt dusting their tuxes as they said “I do”.

So if he said that Virgil is going to be okay, Virgil is going to be okay.

Virgil doesn’t know what to do if he doesn’t cling to that pathetic hope.

A flicker of shadow draws Virgil’s attention, and his head snaps up, preparing to...to...protect himself from whatever he could. Instead his breath stutters to a halt.

The shadow is a figure on the roof, someone who is slim but fit and easily opens the glass pane to lower themselves inside. The shadow is a figure who manages to slip from the catwalks to the warehouse floor in barely a minute.

The shadow is a man who kneels beside Virgil and peered at him behind square glasses, “My name is Logan Ackroyd. I’m here to escort you out of this situation, but first I must know where your captor went.” The shadow is a very real person and Virgil can’t tear his eyes from the yellow bold letters F.B.I. on his jacket.

“Mr. Storm,” Logan says sternly, like Virgil is back in school and one snarky comment away from getting detention again. “Please quietly look in the direction where your captor went.”

Virgil’s eyes flicker to the far door, his breath noticeably short and reckless and violent. With every inhale he feels like he’s getting less and less oxygen in his body.

“Prince,” The FBI agent says into a comm, “He’s at the North Entrance.” Then he swiftly moves around Virgil to his hands. Virgil can’t help but flinch at the motion, drawing a nauseating screech of pain from himself.

“Apologies,” Logan says, “I am going to cut you loose. Please refrain from moving unnecessarily. There’s a medical team on standby. I can see your shoulder wound, but are there any other locations that will require immediate attention?”

Virgil lets out another sob, a relieved sob as he shakes his head. Or possibly doesn’t. He doesn’t know if its even noticeable from how the rest of his body is vibrating like all his atoms are slowly pulling him apart.

“I’m going to do a breathing exercise, Mr. Storm. Can you please breathe with me while I count?” Logan says calmly again. Virgil’s head spins at how calm he is when there’s nothing calming about this situation. Still the counting is even and steady, flowing over Virgil like the sound of a timer while he’s working in the kitchen. When he closes his eyes, he can even pretend its Dee counting for him, whispering praises when he manages to hold his breath for that endless seven seconds.

“It’s going to be okay.” Logan says, as he cuts through the zip tie and picks his way under Virgil’s uninjured arm. He peels off the duct tap to make it easier to breathe and Virgil falls against him without meaning to.

He’s breathing. Like Dee told him to do. Just keep breathing.

The next thing he knows there are police and FBI all over the place. There’s a several medics that come rushing to them, who help guide Logan and him outside to a standing ambulance. The noise is loud and quiet at the same time: like a screaming match drowned out by the buzzing in Virgil’s head.

He tries to focus on Dee, what Dee said to him, what Dee has said before: all those times he asked Virgil what new language he should try on Duolingo , all those times Dee tried teaching Virgil new phrases over romantic TV dinners and store bought wine, all those times that Dee idly said how much he loved him in the middle of a conversation with no prompting.

Just keep breathing. Dee had said.

“Virgil!”

The voice is a strike of lightning in the swirling madness around him. Virgil hiccups a sob and suddenly Dee is right there in front of him, pushing Logan out of the way to get closer to him.

“Virgil,” Dee says again gently taking his face in both his hands. There are tears in his eyes and his mouth spouts out words like a waterfall, “Virgil, Liebing, Love, Angel, Darling, my Sun, my Soul,--”

Virgil lets out a wail and flings himself into Dee’s arms, completely ignoring the medics and the burning of his shoulder, because this was Dee and Dee was...

Dee was safety. He was everything.

“Its okay,” Dee sobs with one hand in Virgil’s hair and the other warped around his waist holding him as close as they can get.

And Virgil believes him.

#greengabs #sanders sides #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #logan sanders #kidnapping #being held for ransom #tumblr prompts #anxceit #god I am so weak polyglots #this was too much fun to write what the heck

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lvmosity · 4 years

Text

my only valentine | draco malfoy [1]

pairing: draco malfoy x slytherin!reader

genre: fluff bc it’s a valentines day special ooh la la

summary: you and draco have been enemies since the start of hogwarts despite being in the same houses, but everyone knows you two secretly like each other. valentines day has arrived and you hope to receive a love confession from one boy only; your arch-enemy nevertheless. however, a minor incident occurs caused by draco and hurts you deeply. will your valentines day be rescued?

word count: 2.5k

warnings: my bad writing + minor swearing

a/n: aahh i know it’s late !!! this was meant to be posted on valentines day but i got caught up in a heavy load of schoolwork so i didn’t have the time to post it until a few days later oof apologies!

read part two → here

“They’re at it again.”

“What, again?”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, it’s practically their daily routine.”

You know exactly who it is they’re talking about, those two can never cross paths without hurling an insult at each other. On a good day, those insults can turn from one-worded to a full-blown essay and the audience likes to tune in and rate it with their reactions.

However, that only lasted for a week as it started happening every second, minute, and hour of the day. At first, everyone found it amusing but by the second week, it was starting to irritate them as it clashed with their studies since the bickering would be enough to stop a class in session. Adding onto to some of the student’s annoyance, they were also the core reason for the many points being deducted from the Slytherin house. It was immoral for students of the same house to hate each other but these two didn’t seem to care.

The only time where their classmates would finally be able to enjoy peace was when they had Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. They saw the two as their saviours knowing the two wouldn’t dare cause a scene in their lessons; they’d be asking for a deathwish if they tried.

But it continued and continued to the point their classmates grew tired and got used to the commotion whenever it occurred, usually letting it escalate and unbothered to stop it. They’d leave it to the prefects or one of the professors to arrive and tell them off. After all, being in the sixth year of Hogwarts, they have little to no time to sit around and listen to silly arguments.

The reason why you knew all of it? Why you were one of the main stars of course, as well as the infamous pureblood blondie himself; Draco Malfoy.

Ah yes, you two are what the group of students were gossiping about. You and Draco were always the centre of attention and it wasn’t a surprise to you when you hear your name slip out of someone’s mouth, Draco’s name following a few seconds after.

You found yourself in the usual scene. You and Draco stood in front in each other, your arms crossed whilst his hands were shoved in his pockets, both staring down at each other as students from all years (mostly second years and a few from your year) circled around. Draco’s goons stood behind him attempting to act as intimidating but it always failed due to how funny it looked. Your two friends stood behind you as well looking slightly frustrated that it was happening again for the fourth time today.

You’d already be on your way to Potions Class, if not for Malfoy sniggering once you three walked past him. You instantly stopped in your tracks and turned around to respond, “Think something’s funny Malfoy?” Your reaction was what Draco was wanted to see since the moment you turned back, he had already made his way over to you.

“Yes actually, I find it hilarious that you’re still choosing to attend Potions when all you ever do is make mistakes,” Draco smirked.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “If you really want to know about mistakes, you should ask your parents.”

The older students drew in a sharp intake of breath once they heard your joke. Some tried to hold back their laughs whilst the younger students glanced at each other in a confused matter; they couldn’t quite catch onto the meaning.

"You insolent little–”

Before Draco could finish his insult, your friends dragged you by the arms and pushed their way through the crowd. Once you were out of sight, one of your friends drops her grip on your arm and groaned.

“Jeez Y/N! You really couldn’t wait to have another moment with him, could you?” Your friend sighed in annoyance. You knot your eyebrows in confusion, but the blush appearing across your face was telling otherwise.

“If you’re implying that I only fight back for an opportunity to talk to him then you must be mistaken.”

Your other friend giggled “Please, everyone knows you have a thing for Malfoy,” she nudged you playfully. “and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.” She winked and giggled once more.

The blush on your face grew even redder. “Sh-shut it!” you huff and take off, leaving your friends behind so they couldn’t see how flustered you were.

It was almost like every love story out there; a girl finds herself crushing on the bad boy when she knows she shouldn’t, and you definitely shouldn’t have a crush on Draco. You kept that as your top priority to survive through school, you swore to yourself to never fall for that wicked guy with his pompous attitude that always tempted you to punch him. Yet, one day, your heart decided to beat furiously at the touch of Draco’s hands when he tried to grab his quill from you as you stole it for a bit of fun.

You didn’t know why your heart decided it was time for a bit of change in your life, specifically your love life. Maybe it was to do with Draco maturing body-wise or how you noticed that his looks started to appear attractive to you and you couldn’t help but observe the way he talks, the way he laughs, the way he gives you that smirk. Yeah, you were really crushing on him hard.

From that moment onwards, you found yourself more willing to respond to his insults and backtalk, sometimes slightly saying it in a flirty tone but Draco would be too heated up in the argument to notice.

Your classmates gradually noticed how you’d react to Draco’s comments, you were awfully bad at hiding your small blushes as he passes by you in the hallways. Or in classes, after your argument was put on hold, you would give a nasty look at Draco before turning away to smile to yourself.

No one could ignore your frequent stares at the boy and they found that to be quite shocking. However, it didn’t shock them as much when they started noticing that Draco started staring back.

●●●

Valentines Day arrived the next morning and everyone could be seen chatting joyfully, groups of girls could be seen standing by the side of the hallways shrieking at the sight of one of their friends receiving flowers from their admirer whilst a few couples were holding hands and walked down, exchanging sweet words as they smiled and laughed.

In the past, you didn’t care much for the event due to the fact you barely receive any chocolates, cards or flowers. You suppose this was because most guys and girls felt intimidated by you and saw you as someone who liked causing trouble and had a cheeky personality with the backtalk and all. Not that you cared.

In fact, up until now, you were glad you didn’t receive any love confessions from anyone as you were waiting for a specific boy to do it. For a while now you secretly hoped that there was a sign that Draco, too, liked you back because why else would Draco continue picking fights with another Slytherin? He could just really hate you, but you didn’t believe that nonsense.

Your first class of the day came to be Transfiguration. You and your friends arrived at the classroom a few minutes before the late bell, you three somehow managed to push through the many lovesick couples as well as holding your breath in with the overwhelming love potion aroma. Once you thought you were in the clear, you could see a small crowd had blocked the entrance to the room but Professor McGonagall had cleared them out by the time you got to the door.

“What’s happening here?” You asked Professor McGonagall.

Many heads perked up at the sound of your voice to which you noticed that most of your classmates had surrounded your desk. You raised an eyebrow in confusion but you were starting to feel nervous as you felt the many stares of your classmates.

“Oh Y/N! You’ve got something special waiting for you on your desk!” Professor McGonagall cooed, she pointed over and your classmates had moved out of the way for you to see what it was.

Your heart skipped a beat when you realised it was a medium-sized, pink box of chocolates shaped like a heart with a red ribbon wrapped around. Next to it was a bouquet of a singular red rose with a card placed on top. Everyone was grinning and giggling out of excitement.

“You’re such a lucky girl Y/N!” A girl cried out.

“Never thought I’d be jealous of you, I wish I was gifted one!” Another girl sniffled, wiping a fake tear away.

“Ugh, girls these days.” One of the guys in your class said before you hear a girly squeal, “You pinched me!”

“Shut it Ronald.” You heard a girl say as a small mutter of ‘sorry’ followed after.

The situation was so embarrassing. You walked towards the gift and you could feel your face getting warmer. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet the eyes of your classmates because you felt so flustered that you could literally melt any second now. Your classmates had stepped a few metres away from your desk as they watch you examine the gifts. To think that someone had gifted you chocolates and flowers was something beyond your imagination, you didn’t think anyone would like you and that got you giddy. Your friends stood by your side and looked at you with anticipation,

“Well? What are you waiting for? Aren’t you gonna read who it’s from?”

Everyone nods in agreement and eagerly waits for you to do so. They couldn’t help but gossip among themselves trying to guess who it was.

“I bet it’s that guy in Ravenclaw, I saw him staring at Y/N once during dinner.”

“Nah, It’s obviously Rowan. Heard him talk about her in the hallways a few days ago.”

“Or it could be Harry! They’ve talked a few times out of class.”

Gulping, you nervously grab the card and slowly flip it over. Your classmates, your friends and even Professor McGonagall were all leaning over to see who your admirer was. You haven’t a clue as to who gifted you these and you didn’t know how to react once you discover who it is.

“From your only valentine.”

Everyone groaned out of disappointment, some frowning while others whined out an “aww, that sucks.” They make their way back to their seats, leaving you to stand there alone with a blank face. Professor McGonagall gives you a small but sweet smile, rubbing your back as she, too, walks back to her desk.

You felt disappointed, upset and frustrated. You had secretly wished for a name to be written so you could thank whoever it was after class, whether it’d be someone in your class or someone from another year or house. As thankful as you are to them, you secretly hoped it to be a specific name, you hoped to see Draco’s name.

A loud scoff filled the room as everyone’s heads whip towards the sound. You also turn to see who the perpetrator was and it was none other than Draco himself. You forgot that he was in the room, in fact, you didn’t notice him already seated in his chair when you entered the room. You were too distracted by the commotion to know that Draco was witnessing the whole scene.

Draco leans back and shoves his hands in the pockets of his school pants. “I can’t believe someone thinks you’re special enough to be their valentines, they must be mental!” He laughs, his two goons joining in.

You rolled your eyes. “Jealous Malfoy?”

“Ha! Me, jealous? Please, I received my very own valentines gift this morning.”

“You know your mother doesn’t count.”

Several of your classmates snicker at your joke. Draco scowls at you and crosses his arms, now sitting upright.

“I could get a shit ton of girls to go out with me if I wanted to.”

“Language Mr Malfoy!” Professor McGonagall scolds him.

“Any girl who’d want to go out with you would be called desperate.”

Everyone in the room was listening intently now, indulging themselves in the argument anticipating each comeback. Professor McGonagall couldn’t even find the right time to butt in and cut the argument off as you both kept bickering back and forth.

“Whatever, someone must’ve slipped the poor git a love potion,” Draco said. “There’s no way he would find you good looking without one.”

A collection of gasps and low ‘ooh’s filled the room. You stood there speechless, Draco just called you ugly. Those words stung you and you could feel a slight twinge of pain in your heart.

“W-what?” You choked out.

“Did you really think you could get guys with a face like yours? You’re so clueless it hurts Y/L/N.”

At this moment, no one dared to talk let alone make a slight noise. The tension was so strong you could barely cut it with a sharp knife. Everyone was shocked whilst most of the girls felt offended at his unnecessary comment, shooting daggers at Draco. Your eyes began to water, clouding your vision as you force your mouth shut to hold back a sob but before you knew it, tears start to roll furiously down your cheek.

You make a run towards the door and rush off to god-knows-where but anywhere away from that room, from him. Professor McGonagall tries calling out your name and rushes after you but stopped at the door as she realised she couldn’t see you anymore. She, as well as most of your classmates, shoot a disappointed yet disgusted look at Draco who sits there in silence. Even his two goons fell silent.

“Well done Malfoy, you’re one step closer to earning ‘dickhead of the century’ gold badge,” Ron said sarcastically.

Draco shoots back a nasty look. “Want me to sell it to you when I win it, Weasley? Since it’s worth more than your family’s house; you could be doing your parents a favour and they’d finally see something useful in you.”

Ron shoots up with his fists balled up out of anger, ready to lunge at him but Hermione and Harry pull him back down. Hermione whispers to him in an attempt to calm him down, ‘It’s not worth it Ron.”

Draco didn’t flinch. Instead, he continues sitting there in silence, leaning over his desk as he bows his head. Draco couldn’t believe he made you cry, he immediately felt guilty. Surely witnessing your enemy finally cry because of you was an achievement, especially since it was Draco’s goal from the start. But why didn’t it make him happy? Why did it pain him instead? He wished he never said those words; it wasn’t even true and he knows that.

You were the opposite of what he said but he feared at the thought of you knowing his true feelings about you.

i had to cut it here because i feared it would become too long so i posted the other as a part two. also don’t hesitate to send in requests! + let me know what you think about this c:

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy scenario #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #slytherin

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emptysatellite · 3 years

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the city's our until the fall

Ao3

Narcissa started smoking cigarettes the summer that Andromeda was kicked out, the summer between her sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts.

She would sit in the meadow near her family’s manor, grey smoke pouring from her parted lips as she took deep breaths out. Usually, hot tears would stream down her cheeks as she overheard her sister and parents’ fight, which would always result in cruel words and hexes towards Andromeda.

“I hate the way you treat people you think are lesser than you! It’s not right!”

“We don’t think they’re lesser than us, Andromeda, we know they’re lesser than us. We treat them the way they deserve to be treated!”

“No one deserves to be treated horribly!”

“Mudbloods do! They will be the downfall of the Wizarding World!”

“No!”

Finally, one evening after sunset, Narcissa had successfully climbed out of her window to light a cigarette or two in the meadow and returned to see everything changed.

Andromeda had stayed locked in her bedroom with no interruptions all day but, after supper, Cygnus and Druella threw open the door, demanding answers.

“I finally know what this defiance is about that stupid Mudblood boy from Hufflepuff!”

“No, no it’s not!”

“It must be. Bellatrix told your mother and I all about him.”

“No, that’s not true! There is no boy!”

“Don’t lie, Andromeda, what have we told you about lying?”

A little before midnight, Narcissa, who had surprisingly not heard any of the argument that evening, pulled herself up the stone wall and through her window. She landed on the wooden flooring with a thud, looking up to see her parents standing there, Druella tapping her heel impatiently.

“Where have you been?” her mother demanded, blue eyes cold.

“I ―” started Narcissa, scrambling to her feet.

“Never mind that,” Cygnus waved a hand dismissively, “we’ll deal with your sneaking about later. For now, we must talk about your sister.”

“Bellatrix?” the girl asked instinctively. Bellatrix was always her parents’ favorite; the perfect example of a pureblooded daughter, graduated with high grades at Hogwarts but destined to become Voldemort’s right-hand witch in the coming years.

“No,” Druella shook her head. “Andromeda.”

“You see, Flower,” explained Cygnus, using Narcissa’s childhood nickname, “Andromeda wasn’t always telling us the truth. She was―is―a Mudblood apologist and wants to marry one. She believes that they are the same as us and that Pureblood society should be abolished.”

Narcissa pretended to be shocked, although she already knew of Andromeda’s stance on Muggleborn rights. “I cannot believe her.”

“We can hardly wrap our heads around it, too,” said Druella. “Your father and I told your sister that she is no longer welcome in this household, unless she gives up this progressive nonsense. She chose to leave. And, because of that, you are not to try to contact her.

“We understand how close you and Andromeda were when you were young girls, but she’s changed since then, Flower. She’s not the same sister you knew. If you do contact her, and your father and I find out, you will be asked to make the same choice of her,” she finished. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mother, I understand,” nodded Narcissa.

“Good,” Cygnus kissed the forehead of his youngest daughter before turning on his heel and stalking out of the pink-painted bedroom.

“You’re a good girl, Flower. You’d never let a Mudblood into your heart,” said Druella, also kissing Narcissa’s head before leaving. “Don’t go to bed too late. The Malfoy’s are coming over for morning tea tomorrow.”

Silent tears fell from her eyes as her mother closed the mahogany door.

“But I already have let a Muggleborn into my heart,” Narcissa whispered to no one in particular, unable to say the offensive slur out loud.

Instead of going to bed as Druella asked, she crept back outside and down the wall to the meadow, where everything made sense, everything was real.

Narcissa laid in a patch of wildflower and thought about Lily Evans.

They’d met in first year, Severus introducing them. Lily and Severus had been close as children and Narcissa and Severus were fast friends since the Sorting ceremony.

Lily had been nervous around Narcissa at first, slightly cowering behind Severus every time they all hung out, in a very un-Gryffindor way. But by the beginning of second year, Lily was more comfortable around Narcissa, going out of her way to talk to her in between and during classes. Eventually, they’d grown closer to one another than they’d ever been with Severus, running off to the Forbidden Forest to explore the wide terrains when bored on the weekends.

“Is it hard being a Muggleborn, Lily?”

“Yeah, all the time. Other people like calling me names and jinxing me, but it’s not as bad having you and Severus as friends.”

“You’re my closest friend, Lily, do you know that?”

“Yeah, I know. You’re my closest friend too, Cissa.”

“Cissa?”

“I think it’s a cute nickname. What do you think?”

“I… like it. Thank you.”

At the end of fifth year, when Severus had called Lily that horrific word and she cut him out of her life, Narcissa followed suit.

“You can’t believe that I actually meant to call Lily a ‘Mudblood’. It was a heat of the moment thing that just slipped out!”

“How do you accidentally call someone that word, Severus! It’s absolutely disgusting!”

“She’s my best friend! And she was frustrating me―ow, Narcissa! You can’t just hit me!”

“You are to never go near her again, you hear? There are no excuses for what you’ve done; you know how she feels about this extremism you’re getting into and to call her that word because you were angry at her for calling out your shit.”

Narcissa comforted Lily the summer between their fifth and sixth years via letters sent by owls and, by the time they were back at school in September, their friendship was strengthened at a new level.

They told each other everything, from silly school gossip to family troubles. They read books to one another and told jokes and sang both Muggle and witchy songs alike.

Lily had been rambling about the rights of merpeople when Narcissa realized she liked Lily, no, loved Lily more than a best friend should. So, like any curious individual did, she pulled the redhead close, interlocking their lips.

Lily didn’t hesitate; she kissed Narcissa back immediately.

Narcissa sighed, taking a drag of her cigarette. Life was so much better at Hogwarts, where Lily was. Luckily, there were only a few more weeks of summer holiday…

***

“We’re going to be late to class.”

“Fuck class. This matters more than class.”

“ Narcissa Alexandria Black .”

Narcissa pulled away from her girlfriend, giving Lily a feigned expression of pain. “Full name? Ouch, darling, that stings.”

The redhead threw her head back in laughter. “You have a beautiful name, Cissa.”

“Everyone in my House called me a narcissist for my first three years at Hogwarts.”

“But can you really blame them for that horrible nickname? You were quite self-absorbed.”

“Oi,” Narcissa lightly slapped Lily’s shoulder.

“Hey, I said that you were self-absorbed. Past tense,” she reasoned. “You’re not anymore, of course. Now, you’re the perfect mix between confident and kind. The right amount of cockiness so no one thinks you're a bitch.”

“Aw, you’re the sweetest.”

“I try,” Lily grinned, bright eyes sparkling from joy. She hopped off the sink counter, brushing her skirt in a useless attempt to straighten it. “We really should start towards Slughorn’s class. It’ll take us at least five minutes to walk there and we still have to split up so no one sees us and―”

“Lily Juniper Evans,” Narcissa put her hands on Lily’s shoulders, towering over the shorter Gryffindor, although still making perfect eye contact. Crystal blue met jade green.

Despite Lily’s protests of ‘wow, look who’s using full names now!’ Narcissa continued on. “Don’t stress out,” she said, “we’ll get to Potions on time. Your reputation as the most wonderful Head Girl to ever grace Hogwarts’ hallowed halls will remain spiffy.”

“‘Spiffy,’” repeated Lily with a slight snort. “That’s a funny word, don’t you think? A real debutante would use that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was a real debutante ― thank you very much ―and I was really fucking good at it.”

“How can someone be good at being a debutante?”

“I’m done with this chitter-chatter, Evans, let’s go to class or I’ll dock you points.”

“You’ll dock me? No way! I’ll dock you points.”

“Sure, you will, darling.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Love you, Lils.”

“Love you more, Cissa.”

While on their way to Potions, the two decided that Lily would be the first one to walk into the classroom and that Narcissa would be five minutes late.

“Are you sure you don’t mind being late to class?” Lily stopped dead in her tracks, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I’m sure, I don’t mind,” replied Narcissa.

And she really didn’t; Slughorn had always been a good teacher, yes, and Narcissa had always been a good student in Potions. She just never had any interest and was all for missing part of class; Slughorn would never give one of his most talented students a detention, anyways.

“Come on, Evans, it's seventh year,” James whined, running a hand through his unruly curls, “just give me a chance. One date, that’s all I’m asking for.”

Lily looked up from the potion she was stirring, to examine her table partner with a raised eyebrow. She tilted her head and tapped her chin with her free hands, a sorry attempt to appear deep in thought. “No,” she said at last.

James groaned, hanging his head. “Why not?”

“Well, for starters, you’re much too desperate.”

His mouth hung open from shock. “Too desperate?” he demanded.

“Yes; you’ve asked me out, Merlin, how many times? At least ten times within the past two months. It’s a little obsessive, if you ask me,” explained Lily, calmly, flipping through pages in her N.E.W.T.-level Potions textbook. “And, secondly, you’re Head Boy. We already have a professional relationship; we couldn’t risk that by going out romantically.”

“So,” James replied, “are you telling me that you’d go out with me if I weren’t Head Boy? Because I’ll go to Dumbledore right now―”

“No, I’m not going out with you because you're desperate,” she said, looking up from her textbook. “The thing about Head Boy is just an added reason. Although, I would say it’s very valid. Besides, I’m already with someone else.”

James sputtered, at a complete loss for words. “But―I―who―what did you say?”

Lily’s gaze flickered towards Narcissa, who was working alongside Lucius Malfoy at the far end of the classroom, for a split second. She focused back on James. “You heard me right.”

“This has completely rocked my world,” he sat down on a stool, gripping the worktable for support.

“Sorry, mate,” Lily brushed a hand over his shoulder, teasingly, before moving it to pick up a knife. “But can you cut this root for me? Cheers.”

James took the knife and started dicing the roots, while Lily jotted notes down on a small page of parchment.

She glanced up for a brief moment to see Narcissa staring at her. Lily gave a soft smile, which Narcissa returned immediately, before turning her head towards Lucius, who had demanded very loudly for Narcissa to fetch some extra materials. Lily kept her eyes on her girlfriend, eyes following her body all the way to the material cabinets.

“Damn, if you’re gonna break my heart, Evans, you could at least help me with this potion,” James’ scratchy voice broke Lily’s trance.

She spun towards her potions partner, a fake smile plastered in place of her real one. “Of course,” she snapped, picking up the textbook to read off the direction for the rest of the potion.

***

Narcissa was smoking in an abandoned corridor, completely in the dark. She liked it that way, it reminded her of home. It was ten minutes after curfew and Lily passed by, her wand lighting the way forward to catch any students out of bed.

“That was quite a show Potter gave today,” she grabbed Lily’s wrist, pulling her close.

“Merlin, Cissy, you scared the shit out of me,” Lily dropped her wand in shock, moving her free hand to her chest in an attempt to slow her increasing heart rate.

“Sorry,” the Slytherin laughed, “but, still, Potter was acting more lovesick than usual.”

She groaned. “I know… it was so embarrassing.”

Narcissa hummed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Lily’s ear. “I thought it was cute.”

“Cute? Potter?”

“No, not Potter,” she rolled her eyes. “Just how infatuated he is with you―”

“More like obsessed with me―”

“I understand where he’s coming from.”

Although Lily’s pale cheeks darkened with a rose-pink blush, she responded confidently, voice even. “Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh. Who wouldn’t be infatuated with you? You’re a beautiful person―inside and out―have a magnificent personality, and are so fucking witty and intelligent.”

Lily’s composure broke and she giggled, high pitched and nervous, cheeks turning an even darker, beet red shade. “Thank you,” she said at last.

“You don’t have to thank me, I was just pointing out the facts,” Narcissa cupped Lily’s face in her hands, fingers brushing softly over her lips.

Putting her hands on Narcissa’s waist, Lily lightly tugged the blonde closer to her, locking lips with a breath.

“You should stop smoking,” Lily whispered. “It’ll kill you.”

“I’ll quit,” said Narcissa, “just for you, my love.”

She quit because the taste of Lily’s lips on hers were softer, sweeter than anything Narcissa ever experienced; she quit smoking by the end of seventh year.

#narcissa black #lily evans #hp

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queenieloveswriting · 4 years

Text

The Fool and Her Temperance

Before your parents split, you lived in the outerbanks,with your mum and dad, close to your cousin ,john b. Not long after Big John, your dad's brother, died your mum and dad split, your dad stayed in outer banks to watch over his brothers son and keep his steady job, your mum however took you back to her home country Italy, and you lived in a small but cosy house near your grandparents. Not having a choice as a 7 year old you had to leave outer banks behind. When you got older your mum let you have your dad's number and then eventually you got your cousins, and began to get extremely close.

John and your dad simultaneously kept you up to date on the news and gossip of the outer banks, you'd call each other and it became your Sunday night ritual. Being a call or facetime you'd talk about school, you talked him through a grieving process and eventually settled for his reason to not believe until there is physical evidence. You barely know his friends other than jj whose number you also had, but they knew the name ‘Luna D’Angelo.

It was a Sunday night and you'd just, finally, convinced your mother to let you visit your dad for the summer and soak in the sun while she moved for a promotion during the month in Portland, of all places. You are just about to call john and tell him the news. School was literally out as of Friday and you were sure he was partying like he told you he'd be on Saturday, which is why he called you earlier. After updating your dad, who you also talked to every Friday night after school, You got to john

After repetitive buzzing he finally picked up, you heard some staticky music and slightly tipsy John b

“Heyyy Luna you okay we calleddd yesterdayyy i thinkkkk”

“Heyy john yeah we did sorry i just had some really good news i wanted to tell you but i can ring you tomorrow if its better”

“Don't be silllyyy I've only had a few anyways, I'll remember what is it, please don't tell me your pregnant because uncle joe’ll be pisseddd” he chuckled

“No oh my god I just wanted to say that my mum gave me the all clear and I’m coming to live with dad for the summer and maybe longer i don't know but yeah”

The line went silent

“WOOOHOOO she coming Back GUYS DID YOU HEAR THAT LUNA D’ANGELO IS COMING FOR THE SUMMER "he shouted

“Woah man stop shouting "you heard from the other line

“Jj bro my cousin you remember my cousin Luna she just told me yeah that she's coming back for the summer and maybe longer if her mum lets her brooo this is going to be the best summer ever lulu I've missed you”

“Wait really bro as in uncle joe’s Luna?”he asked

“Duh bro the only Luna we know dumbass you wanna say hi”

“What do you mean bro she's not here or is she waiting wha--?”

“She on the phone,ohhh actually you speak to her for a second I'm getting looks from over there”

“Oh wait John its fin--”

Next thing you heard was some shuffling and a deeper voice fill your speaker phone

“Luna you there? "he asked

“Shit yeah hey jj I was about to go anyways but well now you know I’m finally going to meet you and the guys well and girl but”

“yeah you areee” he slurred

“Anyways I'll see you in about a week j”

“Soon beautiful gunna have the best summer, finally going to a legendary obx party "he laughed, tipsy

“Sounds good jay I'll see you soon bye "you hung up

after finally hanging up on the phone you mentally facepalmed yourself for being so awkward, you went to bed

A slow week went by, and you had finally arrived in the outerbanks.Stepping of the boating docks you searched the crowd for you dad. Once you spotted him holding a sign that said “bentornato la mia bella figlia”welcoming you back in your second, most used language,italian.Running into your dad's arms,you both had a little cry eventually getting settled into a cosy shack. After catching up with your dad you told him about you and john b becoming close once he gave you his number. Deciding you should surprise him with his arrival, Your dad drove you in his pick up to a block away from the chateau you remember you uncle calling it.

Walking up to the porch you heard voices coming from the dock, followed by their matured bodies coming in from a boat, scrapping your original plan once you saw your cousin, you just screamed running to the completely oblivious family member

“Johnnnn I’m back” you giggled still running

.Catching his attention he turned around running towards you in complete shock “holy fucking shit your here I thought it was tomorrow "he shouted suffocating you with a hug ”oh my god john b i missed you “you giggled and he sent you a watery laugh in return "I wasn't expecting you back soon wow you look so different from the scrawny little 7 year old in uncle joe’s photos "he cooed

Before you could argue you were aware of the three people sending you confused glares. The only girl there, assuming it was kiara not having seen pictured to put name to face, coughed. ”someone wanna tell me what the fucks going on “she addressed earning john to roll his eyes at the over sassed girl, who had looked slightly jealous ”Kie this is Luna D’Angelo uncle joes daughter I’ve mentioned her she's my cousin, I might have forgot to tell them you were coming “her attitude dropped when she realised it was you “ohmygod ”she physically facepalmed, causing you to laugh "I had no idea you were coming the fuck john dumbass ”she elbowed him walking towards giving you a hug. ”Nice to finally meet you and put a face to name, speaking of you are fucking gorgeous the fuck ”she giggled walking back to the boys wo still hadn't said anything, causing you to break the silence "so that makes you pope "you pointed to the buff dark skinned boy who nodded ”yeah that's me Luna I had no idea you were coming he's useless” he stated walking up to you with a quick hug “that he is "you turned round to finally face the blonde who had a cheeky smirk on his face shamelessly checking you out you rolled your eyes. Facing him you looked up too him finally seeing what he looked like ,defiantly exceeding “cute", you opened you arms and he came towards you, similarly to john b engulfing you and spinning you in a quick hug “its crazy actually hearing you and seeing you in real life "he teased still hugging you. Aware of the confused gases from the rest you backed out of the hug, missing the slight disappointment on jj’s face. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you looked up into his mischievous eyes and innocently winked taking a second take on his Greek-caved body “I know good to finally see what you guys all look like definitely not what I was expecting though". Turning around to the others who’d been oddly silent "so what's now guys "you asked everyone "well we were just about to go to kiara family's restaurant and grab some free food you wanna come? "John b asked. Following your cousin who was walking down the dock you made conversation with kiara about her Restaurant and how they finally got paper straws, being an environmentalist, you enjoyed discussing this.

When you finally got to the wreck you had made and surprisingly gotten close quite quickly you had conversations with all of them except jj, who was next. After discussing what you think happened to bodies after you die with pope, what was cuter a bottlenose dolphin or a harbour seals with kiara, dolphins winning the argument, and just life with john b how he is coping with everything including his dad, you wondered what you'd talk about with jj, having brief text conversations with him on the phone you don't know him that well however being the only one you'd actually heard from and the stories about him from john b had been quite funny an intrigued you on the boys with an adrenaline addiction.

Once you sat down ,purposefully next to jj, pope and john b in front of you and kiara walking around helping her dad close up.

“So jj ”you turned facing him "I hear you are quite the adrenaline junkie, correct? "you sassed .Smirking he replied “quite the risk taker princess why’d you ask”

“Well you see now you might have a bit of competition because in Italy I am known as principessa pazza translating to crazy princess so you better be watching yourself blondie” you teased "what's got you that rep princess crazy "he joked. Laughing at his tone you pulled out your phone to a video collage you friends in Italy made of all the things you'd done from surfing to vine swinging. Passing him the phone you studied his priceless face watching yourself, internally hoping he's not judging your body in your bikinis and just watching what you were actually doing “damn Luna that's so sick where are you in this one", he asked scrolling the the clip of you surfing doing a perfect spin in the waves ”oh there, that's actually really funny story you wanna hear? "you asked to which he nodded “so basically me and a bunch of my guy friends, because no girls wanna get there hand dirty over there "you laugh intaking a breath “we had a 4 hour trek to get there and not having a car we had to walk to the mains and hitch hike and walk for about an hour and a half to actually get there with our boards to because we had no money to pay for rentals it was difficult I remember having to sit in the back of this guys car and my friend Ricco say in the front and there was only space for two in the back so i had to sit on Ryan's lap and put my feet on Angelo’s lap so we could have our boards on the floor, anyways once we finally got there and i got the feeling in my legs back we surfed for hours the beach was so busy and we found this beautiful cove which is in the video and the waves were so much better ,best waves I've ever surfed, we all slept on the sand around a makeshift fire from my lighter and so i had to sleep in my bikini them in their shorts because we didn't want to go home covered in sand and anyways after about 6 hours we found our way home, I didn't realise my mum would be back but the 3 weeks of no phone or tv and grounding was totally worth it, and that is what happened in tuscany,italy,ragazzo Biondo "you took a deep breath reliving the memory for a short period of time. "your mum was always a bit melodramatic Lu “your cousins chimed in. You were oblivious to the fact they had been listening to you relive your memories. Rolling you eyed you nodded “want to hear melodramatic she found out that when i was grounded the boys still came through my window and we all were still hanging out when she told me I couldn't and I was grounded for the end of the month and she took my door off "you rolled your eyes at one of your mums various punishment “why do you think I want to live with dad "you joked.

“Wait so you are moving back? I thought it was only the summer "pope questioned earning a glare from john

“I am staying for the summer but I was going to ask my dad eventually if I enjoy it here if he wouldn't mind it it would take my mum loads of convincing though but I think I can convince her if I kept my grades solid and got a job could probably ’be trusted” ”you and john both rolled your eyes at the comment

“So that means there is a 50/50 chance you could be staying? "john asked hopeful

“Most likely cuz I mean id say more 75 no/25 yes but whatever floats your boat ”“I hope you do it'd be so cool to have you here and plus i think your dad would love that, we talk about you a lot, he misses you "he sighed you sent him a smile

“So what do you all do round here, any adventures? "you smirked

John b rolled his eyes but continued to answer your question “its pretty chill and well the same we go out on the boat swim or fish for a bit come home and probably to a kegger on the beach get wasted fight with kooks the usually” he stated "that doesn't sound too bad could surf all day, one question though "you asked and john b hit you with ‘shoot’ "the fuck is a kook? ”you asked earning snickers from the group and an in depth conversation with the boys about the rich snobs on the other side of the island.

Checking your phone it was almost 10:00 and you figured you should probably head home. Saying your goodbyes jj offered to walk you home. Insisting you and your dad lived a block away from his anyway, which was true.

When you arrived at your front door you turned to him and thanked h for walking you home

“Honestly it's no problem I just wanted to talk to you like one on one for a bit you know, it's good to put a face to Luna and i honestly really hope you can stay longer, we could get used to having you around "he said causing your face to slightly flush at the complement “thanks jay that mean a lot rea-”you were cut off by your dad opening the door “ahh right on time Luna, jj how you doing boy "he asked causing you to look between then a few times in confusion “yeah I'm good sir just walking Luna home we had food at the wreck with the others "he answered your dad “thank you for feeding her son I do my shop tomorrow and was worried "you dad laughed “it's fine anyways I better go before john b locks up or I'll be sleeping on the porch "he said "wait I thought you were going back you yours and that's why you walked here ”jj chuckled "not going back to mine tonight me and john b are going to go out tomorrow so it's just easier if i sleep there "he answered looking up to your dad sending a playful wink to you “goodnight guys catch you tomorrow lulu "he waved off "night jj ”followed by “night son" your dad replied.

When you got in you caught up with your dad for the night and headed to bed looking forward to your full day out tomorrow on the boat with everyone

Tagged-

@sguymon21

A/N 🤷🏽got boredddd,,name and kind of themed on the two tarot cards ‘the fool’ and ‘the temperance’ putting in a summary on my masterlist for the meanings of it . Let me know if you wanna be tagged and if you liked it. Feel free to message me always wanna make some frienddddddss,,thanks for the love on my other fics if your interested here’s my masterlist

#jj x oc #jj imagine #jj outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj #obx #outerbanks #obx imagine #obx fic #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank outerbanks

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floralseokjin · 5 years

Text

— crystallised 06 (m)

crystallised /ˈkrɪst(ə)lʌɪz/ (verb) make or become definite and clear

Six weeks, that’s all it takes to forget about the threesome you shared with your boyfriend, Yoongi, and your past... fuck buddy, Seokjin. After all, it’s no big deal. Yoongi and you are doing better than ever, there’s no reason to regret such a night shared. That is until you hear some gossip in the library one day, and then slowly, little by little, everything starts to fall apart... Can you begin to make sense out of all this confusion, or is it too late?

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; fluff, fluff and more fluff, smut in the form of dry humping, and did I already say fluff???? here, have some more words; 10,481

sequel to; memoirs of a mistake and lostmyhead

chapters; 01 ⤑ 02 ⤑ 03 ⤑ 04 ⤑ 05 ⤑ 06 ⤑ 07⤑ 08 ✓

Seokjin ended up staying the night. It was inevitable really. You weren’t letting him go after you’d only just got him back. Not like he wasn’t dropping enough hints though. Could stay like this forever, he’d murmured hot in your ear, your body smushed to his as you lied down on the sofa, watching Netflix again. Some things, you realised, wouldn’t change and actually, it turned out Seokjin and you had already practically been acting as a couple anyway. It was just now he had his arms around your middle, hands woven together and his mouth on your neck. Lips too. Yeah, the kissing fest was still happening. You wouldn’t be able to tell anyone a damn thing about what had happened in the last three episodes of The Vampire Diaries if they asked.

Spend the night didn’t really have a question mark after it. It was Sunday anyway, neither of you had work and just the thought of doing nothing all day with Seokjin seemed like pure bliss. Your plan had been to call Lina tonight and gush about everything, but you guessed that could wait until tomorrow night. You’d just have to evade her messages until then, because keeping information like this from your best friend was killing you, but also, maybe you weren’t ready for the “Oh, my God, it was all down to ME,” I told you so’s…

You got ready for bed in the bathroom one by one, almost giddy when Seokjin came out in just his t-shirt and boxers. Knees practically vibrating against one another as he got into bed next to you. His side. You were finally sharing your bed with him again, and then you were a tangle of limbs, his body glued into yours. His legs warm against yours, chest warm, body heat encasing you with the help of his arms. This was it. Pure bliss. How it was always supposed to be.

In the safety of your bed, surrounded by darkness it was easy for even more confessions to slip from Seokjin’s lips. There were funny ones. Thoughts that slipped into his head. Like how he’d been unreasonably jealous of every guy who’d checked you out at the gym. How your ass had looked quote, “fricking delectable,” unquote, with a side helping of bum squeeze to go with. “Been wanting to do that forever,” he sighed in complete and utter content. You giggled, revelling in it really. How could you not. It wasn’t like you hadn’t ogled him while he was squatting or doing press ups… He was very happy when you let that slip… It was cute to fill in the missing gaps, but there were also unhappy confessions too. Ones that made your heart pang with sadness.

Every time he’d pined for you. Not far from him, but still deeply out of reach. Like how he’d hated seeing you cry after your argument with Yoongi the night of that party. He was awkward and he didn’t know how to comfort you, but that was because he wanted nothing more than to tell you the truth. The truth about his feelings, and how he thought you should be with him not Yoongi. When he’d walked you home and you’d made to kiss him, (so he had realised) it took him everything not to give in. He knew you were upset, vulnerable and he didn’t want to take advantage of the moment. It wouldn’t be right, but the hug was the best sensation he’d felt in all his life. Then you’d turned up at his door after the breakup. Like some sign from the heavens above he was making a mistake with Jemma, and even if he could only have you as a friend, even if it hurt like crazy to hear you talk about Yoongi, it was okay. Because he had you in some kind of form. The best form. Just you.

With your glassy eyes, you both began to reminisce into the early hours of the morning. Muffling your laughter at some points because it got too loud and your neighbours would hate you.

“Was it just me, or when we went to watch Endgame did you get distracted remembering back to that time you gave me a hand job? It was the exact same screen room too.” He spoke into the darkness. Just when eyelids were getting heavy, legs still tangled together, your head on his chest.

“Oh, my god.”

“No. Not even in a perverted way. I thought of that as our unofficial first date for the longest time.” He was trying to be funny, but that was actually really cute. You’d held hands for the first time that night. You’d done so as a joke, teasing him. Actually, he’d been adamant it wasn’t a date, not a fan of your jesting. You understood why now. He was afraid you didn’t feel the same.

“I remember we held hands as we walked back to your car.”

“Mm. I liked that.” On cue you felt one of his hands find yours to slip them together, kissing the top of your head at the same time. You smiled to yourself. “Let me take you on an official first date.”

“Where do you have in mind?” The smile was still on your face, could hear it in your voice.

“Zoo.” He replied matter-of-factly.

“Zoo?”

“You pretty much stood me up last time.” Silence. The memory came back to you instantly. “–annd you don’t remember…” His tone was light, playing with you, but nope, you wouldn’t have it.

“No, wait!” You exclaimed, turning around in his arms to find his face. Your eyes had long adjusted to the dark, you could make out the greatly amused grin on his face easily. “I do remember! I just didn’t think you were serious.”

You hadn’t actually figured out what he was trying to do when he’d asked you out back then. You’d been too distracted anyway… Too excited for your date with Yoongi…

“So serious. So jealous. So sad.” That didn’t help either. He was messing around but it still made you feel all not good inside.

“Seokjiinn.” You whined.

He laughed, arms wrapping around your middle to squeeze you to him. “No, but I do really want to take you to the zoo on our first date.” He pecked your mouth, ridding the pout that had formed. “Let’s go Tuesday. We can skip class.”

“Oh,” you cocked an eyebrow. “You’re making me skip classes already. You’re a bad influence Kim Seokjin.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” He grinned, voice now a little croaky from lack of sleep. Sexy though.

You both did manage to get a few hours sleep in the end. Voices were sleepy, conversation waning off and then eyes were closed. You woke up first. Your body clock didn’t seem to realise when it hadn’t had eight hours sleep. So here you were wide awake on five. Seokjin was still dead to the world though. Hooked around you like some sort of monkey. You wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever, but you forgot the cost it came with. Excessive heat. Maybe you hadn’t woken up naturally… Anyway, somehow you wriggled free, Seokjin not even stirring as he rolled onto his back. You took a moment to study him. Cute in sleep, gigantic lips pouting naturally, forehead slightly creased, like he was dreaming of something serious. The events of the night before were truly sinking in. This was actually happening. You and him.

You didn’t want to wake him just yet. No. You had a better idea. You were sure you had the right ingredients to make pancakes. First, a quick detour to the bathroom to empty your bladder and brush your teeth – hair too. You knew you looked this unkempt in the morning, but Seokjin wasn’t used to it anymore. Silly of course, like he gave a shit. You tried to keep as quiet as possible when you started finding and weighing ingredients, aware that there were basically only four walls in this open apartment, if you didn’t count the bathroom. Which was just about hiding Seokjin out of view, the jutting wall part of your kitchen storage.

Distracted from mixing as you messaged with Lina back and forth, (she really did love bitching about this one coworker…), you nearly dropped your cell into the bowl when you read what she came out with next.

Lina (9:58am) So are we just gonna ignore the fact u probably fucked Seokjin last night? MAYBE you’re doing it right now Sorry my bad for interrupting

So much for evading her messages. Impossible, and now look.

You (9:58am) Wtf im making pancakes like i said …………. but yeh jin might be in my bed we didn’t bang tho we’re taking things slow 💖💘💗💕💞💓💝

Lina (9:59am) YOU BITCH WJY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME

You (9:59am) i was going to tell you last night :(but got distracted come over later???? i’ll text u

Lina (10:00am) So you actually made a move at the party?? I KNEW IT

Strange. You’d taken it as a given that she had. Especially with the very direct accusation… Or maybe she just knew Seokjin and you couldn’t keep up this ~friends~ bullshit for any longer. Someone would cave, especially after Brian’s party. A ticking time bomb but no one blew up after detonation. Thank God.

You (10:00am) 🤔🤭🤫😶

Lina (10:00am) YOU BETTER SEND HIM HIME TINIGHT I NEED to know the details Have fun being a sexy housewife making pancakes 😘

You (10:01am) hehe 🥰 << me rn

You were so preoccupied, you hadn’t heard Seokjin waking up, jumping a little when his arms wrapped around your middle, face nuzzling your neck as he hugged you from behind.

“Where did you go?” His voice was thick with sleep and whiney.

Putting your phone down, you tried to fight your smile, but nope, this was really happening, and it was better than you could have ever imagined. “I’m making breakfast.”

“I wanted to cuddle,” he whined again. Sounded cute. “Literally been dreaming about it forever. You’re evil.”

“Am not.” You laughed, twisting in his grip. “We cuddled all night.”

Facing him now, you wrapped your arms around his neck, an amused grin on your face. You didn’t think it was possible to cuddle all night, but hey, you’d been proved wrong. You should’ve known. Seokjin was as determined as ever. Only now softer. You liked soft. You liked him.

He squeezed your waist, a pout already formed. “I want more.”

“Patience, bitch,” you hummed softly, bemusing him for a second before he chuckled. You leaned up to kiss him. “Haven’t brushed my teeth,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes. “Like I care.” There were some things you’d waited long enough for, even without realising, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take every opportunity you had to kiss him. One of you had brushed your teeth, that’s all that mattered.

It wasn’t a showy kiss, mostly slow and lazy. Definitely indulgent though. You almost clung to his bottom lip each time you grazed against it, feeling warmth whenever his breath shook. You felt warmth in the way his hands gripped you too. Safe but free in his hold. Giddy when one wrapped around the small of your back and his fingers grazed the top of your ass. It was exhilarating to feel him touch you so casually. A little tiny niggle of frustration too, because why hadn’t he been doing this from the beginning? You both were fools, but not anymore.

“What you making?” He murmured when you both parted, curious.

A hand slid around your hip as you turned your back to him again, picking up the wooden spoon in the bowl to begin to mix again. You gave him a tiny shrug. Not wanting to make a big deal. “Pancakes.”

He sighed like a king. “Spoiling me already.” Your tut in response choked out when he tapped your ass playfully, wondering off to nose through your cupboards. “Don’t burn them.”

He found what he was looking for. A box of cereal on the top shelf. “Seokjin,” you chided gently as he grabbed a bowl from the draining rack. “Cereal? Really?” No way could he have room for two breakfasts.

He grinned goofily. “Appetiser. The starter.”

You stared him down, practically calling his bluff, but nope, there he went, shaking the cereal into the bowl. Milk following. That’s when you laughed. You couldn’t help it. “You’re nuts.”

“Yeah, for you.”

You scoffed quietly at his comeback, a small smile on your face, unable to hide your happiness, and went back to mixing your pancakes. Yeah, it would take a little time getting used to that cheesiness. You needed to step up your game.

If you were joined at the hip before, it wasn’t nothing on you now. Not that dating changed much overall. If people had already thought you were together, that was only affirmed as you held hands around campus and kissed goodbye at the door of your next classes. Lina was super happy you’d finally admitted your feelings to one another. And not in a gloating way either. Like a piece of fan fiction, she said: The girl who tamed a fuckboy. Yikes, how basic. Sounded like something from Wattpad. You much preferred the trope “Two idiots finally realise their feelings for one another.” Fit you both perfectly.

Surprisingly, there were no I told you so’s from her, just a rare guilty look as she confessed she felt “kinda to blame.” Her distaste for Seokjin in the beginning may have hindered your view. You did after all keep your hook ups a secret for so long. But no, you reassured her, that was all on you. Despite the great sex, originally the idea of people knowing you’d given into Kim Seokjin was, how should you say, unappealing, but you’d soon (ish) seen how judgemental that was. If anyone was to blame for the delay, it was you. Not that you dwelled on that anymore.

It was the little things that made you vibrate at a high frequency. Sheer happiness just doing doing the most mundane things. Being able to land a kiss on Seokjin anytime you wanted. Binging so many shows it was probably unhealthy now, yet it didn’t matter with his arms wrapped around your waist. Lying in his bed watching him grow frustrated as he gamed at his desk. Taking him shopping with you and hearing him whine in complete and utter boredom… It all brought you joy. There was no awkwardness, no trying too hard. It just all came naturally. You worked perfectly like this.

The Pet names started. The first time was when you’d been in near tears on the zoo date. Hating the way the animals were all so far from home and trapped. Seokjin had felt beyond guilty, a distraught, panicked look on his face as he apologised for even thinking of taking you here as a first date. He even said sorry for being shit at comforting you, but as soon as the Baby, please don’t cry had rolled so casually from his tongue, so endearingly in fact, and gentle and soft, he’d done his job perfectly. It was your turn to comfort him. No matter what, your first date wasn’t a complete blow out. You got to feed a giraffe and watch the guy you were crazy about lose his shit over a cute little deer. All while skipping class… Couldn’t get much better than that.

And for someone who’d never been on a proper date before, Seokjin sure made up for it with you. You tried the fancy dinner route. Found out it wasn’t for you when you accidentally rubbed the eyeliner from your right eye. Seokjin thought about waiting until you realised, but inevitably couldn’t do it to you. Although you were sure it was because he couldn’t hold his laughter in. You both enjoyed simpler, less showy outings, and of course you planned stuff too. When you took him to the gig of one of your favourite groups you thought his head was going to explode. He complained his ears hurt all the way back home. You took the time to rinse him on his own music taste.

“It’s okay, next time Taylor Swift goes on tour I’ll get you tickets,” you teased. To which he scoffed.

“You seem to forget I work in a gym. I listen to whatever comes on the radio.”

Of course you had a comeback. Quick and witty, you were an unyielding duo. “You seem to forget earphones exist.”

You weren’t one for posting your life on social media. In fact, you didn’t really post on there much at all. Mainly because you sucked at aesthetically pleasing photos on Instagram and regretted every time you overshared on Twitter. And yes, by oversharing you meant an I’m tired after a full day of classes and a shift at work… Seokjin was little of the same, but the first time he uploaded a selfie of you two (a highly unflattering one at that, but hey ho) you may have melted… Made it all feel so real.

Caption: Me and my baby 🤧💞 80 likes

You: Yes! You’ve finally given in to that emoji life 🤗😍😭 Seokjin_Kim: Yes! You’ve finally learnt proper grammar (Capitalising correctly) 😘 itsholly: so cute!!! JungHobi: @Joon94 @San_deul That’s it guys… we’ve lost him to luuuv 🥺 hi_itsbri: Legit?! Congrats man! Seokjin_Kim: @hi_itsbri Legit! Much appreciated! Seokjin_Kim: @JungHobi So glad I’m free ^_^ Joon94: RUDE Joon94: @Seokjin_Kim San_deul: @Seokjin_Kim Nice try. You live with me

After that, it didn’t take you long to start double dating. Seokjin wasn’t brave enough to accompany any of your friends yet, despite Lina being adamant her and Jimin wanted to hang out, but you went plenty with Sandeul and his girlfriend. You favourite was the time you went to the VR arcade with them. You’d never laughed so much in you life—nor felt so scared! You also seemed to hang out with Hoseok, Namjoon and their girlfriends a lot, who preferred to stay in most of the time, eating take out or drinking some. It was on one of those occasions that Seokjin adorably got moody because you laughed at Hoseok too much…

“What’s up with you?” You asked, coming out from the bathroom to see Seokjin still sitting on your sofa with the same frown he’d had since you’d left Hoseok’s place.

“Nothing.”

You sighed and bounced into the seat next to him. “Are you in a sulk?” As if it wasn’t obvious.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Jiiin!” His name left your mouth in a whine as you pounced on him, climbing onto his lap. Despite his one word answers, he reached for you hips naturally. “You’ve been acting strange since the ride back to mine.” You paused to side eye him, sounding snippy yourself now. “Maybe you should’ve just gone home…”

“No,” he answered immediately, clinging to you tighter. “No. It’s nothing.” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. He hesitated. “Do you think Hoseok’s funnier than me?”

You stared at him for a moment, a bemused look on your face, because no, that couldn’t he it. Could it? How adorable. “What kind of question is that?”

“Is that a yes,” he pouted, dropping his hands from you. His jaw tightening.

“Not at all. It’s a reply of confusion.”

He sighed. “You’re delaying”

You had to laugh then. He was being ridiculous. Was he really self-conscious about it? Hoseok was a funny guy, he knew how to entertain, but it wasn’t something you took notice of much. You leaned in, making sure Seokjin was looking at you and spoke slowly. “No. I don’t think he’s funnier than you.”

It didn’t work. In fact, he averted your gaze to look down at the arm of the sofa. Pout in his voice. “You were laughing all night at him. Ignored me when I said something. I’m used to the guys brushing off my jokes and never laughing, but you…”

Wrong. You had not been ignoring him all night, but he sounded so dejected you really did think he believed it. You cupped his cheek. “I always laugh at your jokes.”

“Yeah, probably because you think you have to.” Voice a mumble, you rolled your eyes.

“Have I, or have I not always thought you were funny?” You’d been laughing because of Seokjin for as long as you’d known him. Even when you didn’t want to admit it. “You’re much funnier than Hoseok. Namjoon? No question. Never met someone so unfunny.”

Seokjin actually managed a little smile at that. Your lame attempt at being funny yourself.

“Yay. That’s what I want to see. A smile.” To emphasise, you pulled the corners of his mouth up with your thumbs.

“Get off,” he grumbled, but there was now a gigantic grin on his face. “I just need to make sure, y’know? My humour is all I have.”

You scoffed. “Shut up.”

“Okay, humour and face.”

You leaned in once more, tone sincere. “You have way more important qualities.”

“Great.” He sighed. Fairly dramatically. “Now you’re calling me unfunny and ugly?”

But mouth already open in argument, he was kissing you with an amused chuckle, not knowing you’d never let him forget the day he worried Hoseok was funnier than him…

After a few weeks the novelty of going outside wore off, and soon you were back to staying in. Sharing time between homes, although yours was the preferred, living alone and all. It got pretty domesticated some nights, cooking together, back hugging him as he cut onions because you complained it made you cry. When you said you binged TV too much, you weren’t playing. Somehow you’d completed The Vampire Diaries and were onto The Walking Dead now. Zombies made you a bit uneasy, but actually you found yourself getting quite into it. So into it you searched spoilers ahead of time, too guilty to tell Seokjin your secret. It turned out he was doing exactly the same thing behind your back… You’d both found out your favourite character was soon to die, and reading it had already emotionally broken you, so for now, binging was paused.

Not that you had much time these days. College was kicking up a notch. You had a final piece that needed to be finished by the beginning of February that was a large percentage of your grade this year and Seokjin seemed swamped with assignments and tests. Along with a part-time job, it was a struggle to find some time to spend together. And that’s how Seokjin convinced you to join the gym again. It was a hard no at first, but he put up a good argument… You could hang out together while he worked and you found not everything was completely body destroying there… You could keep up a worthy enough pace on the treadmill. Look somewhat passable on the elliptical… They were both also very great vantage points for some light viewing (perving) of your man… Squats really were invented for him. Just no one tell him that because he’d get a big head…

Caption: The only plus side of going to the gym 🏋🏻‍♂️🍑🤤🥵 43 likes

Linaa: GROSS Linaa: can you not publicise your weird kinks 🤮 You: @Linaa were you or were you not going on about Jimin’s booty two nights ago ???? You: @PJM tell your girlfriend to shut up PJM: Guys 😩😩 me and Jin really don’t deserve this Seokjin_Kim: WHEN DID YOU TAKE THIS?!

He may have seemed outraged but that wasn’t what he sounded like over text two minutes later…

Jin💞 (5:47pm) So I hear you have a thing for my butt ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“You know I can’t control myself,” you told him later on that night when he’d come over, pinching said butt as you hugged.

“Stoppp,” he whined, bottom lip jutting out but he didn’t sound very believable.

“What? I can take full advantage of butt squeezes now.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t been doing the same. You try getting to sleep with two hands cupped firmly around your ass. It got annoying after a while…

He shook his head slowly. Like he was disappointed. His arms still slung around your waist though and a small smirk itching its way across his mouth. “Twisted. Should’ve known… I still get nightmares.”

You met his eyes, a glint in them. You knew exactly what he was referring to. To avoid all the crude details, let’s just say an experiment might have occurred…to see how much pleasure one could derive from the prostrate gland… “Shut up. You’re the one who brought it up, so like, obviously you enjoyed it.” You moved in slowly as you spoke, looping your arms around his neck, a grin on your face.

He sighed your name quietly. “I’d enjoy anything if it was with you.” Dead romantic over some anal fingering. No sarcasm. It really was. You lips were centimetres apart. So close you could almost taste him, but then he pulled away abruptly. “But that’s besides the point. You obviously told Lina–mfphh!”

You couldn’t wait any longer. Kissing him was your favourite pastime, and well, there had been a lot of kissing this past month. Lots of cute kissing. Chaste or stolen. Soft and gentle. Slow. Fast. Lots of fast kissing. Messy and wet. Eager, sometimes impatient. Lots of heavy breathing, warm bodies and ruined underwear on your part… Although Seokjin had his fair share of problems in that area too. An overactive erection. Taking it slow didn’t mean you couldn’t kiss until you were overheating, grind until you were shaking… Grope until you were moaning.

You were straddling him on the couch doing just that when you heard a voice calling outside your door. Sounded like your mom but god, that would be the worst thing ever.

“Yoo-hoo! Are you in?”

Nooo. It really was your mom. Who needed a cold shower at a moment like this? You were pulling away from Seokjin immediately, hazy mind clearing like magic. No one wanted to be caught getting frisky by a parent. It had happened once a couple of years ago and you in no way wanted to relive that.

“My mom,” you groaned at Seokjin, answering the puzzlement on his face.

It quickly turned to panic. “Oh shit. What?” You nodded, quickly getting off him to make your way to the door. “Where are you going?” He panicked harder.

“To open the door.” You laughed. “Can’t leave her out there.”

He jumped up. “Hold on. Hold on. My dick”s half hard.” Luckily he did remember to keep his voice down, shoving a hand down his pants. “Shit. Try fully hard.”

“Hide it.” You hissed, not bothering to check what he was doing as you turned your back to him and ran for the door. He was a big boy (HA), he’d work it out…or not…

You took a deep breath, smoothing down your hair as you composed yourself and pulled it open. “Hello mother. You do realise most normal people ring the doorbell.”

“I did.” She sassed you right back. “You took too long.” Really? You must have missed that…too distracted. Oops. She walked inside, stopping when she saw Seokjin stood awkwardly by the coffee table. “Oh.”

You took a glance at him, eyes wide, like a rabbit caught in headlights. You mean, it could’ve been the erection, but also, this was the first time he was coming face to face with your mother. You’d been too flustered to realise that before you’d flown open the front door. Hadn’t had time to reassure and ease him. Poor guy.

“Mom, this is Seokjin.” You introduced, walking towards him for some moral support.

“I know who he is.” She smiled at you, before turning to him. “It’s so nice to meet you finally.” Ugh. That was right. You’d spent a lot of time talking about him these past few weeks. Mostly done subconsciously when you were still in the “friends” phase. Yeah. You didn’t think she bought it either… Especially when you told her you used to “be involved” in the past but things didn’t work out. What? You couldn’t call it hooking up could you… It was a nicer way of putting it. Sort of. She’d been eager to meet him for a while now, ever since you’d started dating. Probably why she’d shown up without notice…

“Hi.” Seokjin smiled. You moved closer to him. Reassuring him without touching him directly.

“Even more handsome than his photos.”

You groaned loudly. “Mom, you’re embarrassing him.” And you. For multiple reasons. Yes. She had made you show her pictures.

She shook her head. “Nonsense. What are you two up to then?”

She was looking at Seokjin when she asked so he really had no choice but to reply. “Uh… Uh, we were just… just hanging out.” The smile on his face didn’t look too natural. You nudged him. Hopefully enough to settle him.

“Seokjin had a late class so he’s only just come over. We were gonna watch some TV.” You helped instead.

“Oh. Sorry for interrupting.” Like hell she was. “You’re a business major, right?” Seokjin nodded, curious as to how she knew. Uh oh. “My daughter’s told me all about you.”

“She has?” He sounded surprised. Good surprised. Like a lot of gloating could come of it later surprised. And of course, even when he was still inwardly shitting himself, he turned it around, charming your mother expertly. “That makes me nervous.”

“Only nice things of course.” Your mother reassured. “She never shuts up about you.”

“Mom!” You exclaimed. This had been what you were dreading. You changed the subject real fast. “What are you doing here anyway?” It worked.

“Leftovers.” She replied, pulling out a plastic Tupperware box from her purse. “Your dad was cooking again and thought we were a family of ten.” You chuckled, taking the container from her. Classic. You were sure he’d always thought that. You mom took another look at both you and Seokjin, a smile on her face, before she spoke again. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it.” Seokjin couldn’t help himself and laughed at her choice of phrase. You elbowed him. Childish fucker.

“Thanks for the food, Mommy,” you smiled sweetly.

She laughed. “Oh, now you’re nice.”

“I’m always nice!”

“That’s what she tells me too,” Seokjin piped up, making your mother laugh.

“Nice meeting you Seokjin. Eat some too.” She told him, directing her head to the container. “Sorry for my husband’s cooking.”

He chuckled. “Nice meeting you too.”

You followed her to the door, nodding in agreement when she told you she’d see you soon. Like you said, life had been busy. You were spreading yourself thin, but not thin enough to go visits your parents.

“That went well,” Seokjin said as soon as you closed the door. He sounded relieved.

“It did.” You agreed, placing the leftovers on the kitchen counter before walking towards him.

“Didn’t have time to overthink too much. Which is odd considering I was hiding a terrified boner.” You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. He reached for your waist. “It’s gone now, thank the lord.”

“You’ve been overthinking it?”

He nodded “Yeah. Meeting parents is a big deal.” That made you smile. Cute. “Thanks for talking about me so much though. It definitely worked in my favour.”

There it was. One simple gloat. He couldn’t help it. You pushed at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Okay, I’ll keep my ego down.” He laughed. “Whew. Meeting your mom, huh. It’s getting serious.”

“Giving you permission to back out now.” You rolled your eyes, but despite playing it cool you couldn’t help but feel giddy at his words. Serious with Seokjin. It was all you’d ever wanted.

He scoffed, leaning down to place a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Never. You’re stuck with me now.”

You tried suppressing your smile but failed. You managed to sound casual though. “Doesn’t seem like a bad thing.”

He smiled back and you hugged him to you. Couldn’t help it. He squeezed your middle as he pulled away to speak. “Maybe it’s time you met my parents soon?”

Oh boy. Serious it was.

Not surprisingly, Lina couldn’t comprehend the taking it slow aspect. She knew your history with one another. Heard a few stories she’d rather forget. The fact you were starting from the beginning again – well, you’d never really started from the beginning in the first place, but y’know… The fact you were waiting boggled Lina’s mind.

“I really did think you’d last a week holding out.” She said tonight, girly night in taking a turn with boy talk. Check you two out, couldn’t last an hour without talking about your men. What had you both become?

“Like how come you don’t have all this built up sexual tension going on? It’s a love story like no other. You both waited so long to get together, you should be tearing off each other’s clothes. Going at it animal style.”

“Oh, my god,” you laughed. “Okay, maybe too much wine for you.” You took her empty glass and placed it on the coffee table. She had never been able to handle wine. It turned her into a different person. Tonight, one who was very passionate about Seokjin and you, it seemed…

“It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with him.” You explained. “Of course I do. But…” You paused, face flushing a little. Maybe the wine was getting to you too. “I know when it finally happens, it’s going to be amazing. The waiting is only going to make it better.”

That made you both giggle, giddy from the wine and sex talk. Lina reached over for some chips, crunching loudly as she thought something over in that (drunk) head of hers. “Maybe he lost his dick in an accident in between?”

“He didn’t lose it in an accident!” You laughed. It was like you hadn’t gone into full detail about last night’s vigorous palming activities not half an hour ago. He still had his dick alright.

Lina shrugged, stuffing her face again. “Maybe he has stage fright…”

She really was determined to get an explanation. Jesus, who’d have thought she’d wanted you to have sex with Seokjin this much? “I don’t know, I find it cute,” you shrugged yourself. He definitely wasn’t suffering from a case of stage fright. He’d had a healthy case of Erection every time your tongue slipped into his mouth. “Romantic.” You mused. “It’ll happen when the time’s right. Until then, we’re building this whole other layer to our relationship.”

If truth be told, you’d never felt like this in a relationship. All the others seemed like a joke looking back. Even with Yoongi. You’d been searching for these feelings with the wrong guy. Too dumb to see you could have everything you’d ever wanted with Seokjin. You’d never felt this comfortable. This happy. He really was the other half of you. You didn’t care how cheesy that sounded. Even if maybe you wouldn’t admit it to him yet.

“Yet he hasn’t made it official…” Lina couldn’t help herself. Muttering under her breath but loud enough for you to hear.

“Will you stop,” you told her. She was also waiting “patiently” for Seokjin to put a label on it. You, not so much. At this point you knew you were both serious. You were in a relationship, just not technically confirmed, and that was okay. Even if you were yet to call him your boyfriend out loud. (Read: You really wanted to.)

“What?” She feigned ignorance.

“Being negative. Me and Seokjin are happy. Everything’s amazing.”

Lina couldn’t stop her smile then, seeing your grin. “I know. I like seeing you like this. I’m just… You know me, I’m suspicious of everything.”

“Suspicious when it comes to Seokjin.” You corrected lightly.

She laughed but didn’t deny. Baby steps. She’d gone from despising the poor guy to practically ordering you to make a move in a year, so it was definitely getting somewhere. You wouldn’t forget she’d referred to you both as a “love story like no other” in a hurry though… You wouldn’t let her forget either!

“Oh, by the way,” she began, changing the subject – kinda. “We haven’t had a chance to double date yet… My parents are out of town for the weekend. What do you think about this: Lina’s Fancy Dinner Party. Got a ring to it, right?”

“I’m shitting myself. I’m actually shitting myself.”

“Will you calm down,” you laughed, hooking your arm with Seokjin’s as you stood in the doorway to Lina’s parents’ house. “You’re going to have fun.”

He’d been dreading this night ever since you’d told him about it a couple of days ago. It wasn’t just Lina and Jimin now, she’d also invited Yumi and her boyfriend, Taeil. The impending doom was real and the whole Uber ride here had been pretty amusing. You’d never seen him so nervous. It was cute. He really, really wanted your friends to like him. Not that they didn’t already, but could you tell him? No! He wasn’t listening.

“Fun? I’m pretty sure all your friends hate me.” He muttered, before his eyes widened comically. “This isn’t some kind of satanic sacrifice, right?”

“You’ve seen too many horror movies,” you tutted. You glanced at him, sighing softly when you saw the pitiful look on his face. Despite the jokes he really was anxious over this. You unhooked your arms and rubbed his back before straightening the collar of his dress shirt. This was a fancy dinner party after all. There was a dress code, and you weren’t complaining. Seokjin looked hot all fancy like this.

“Only Lina had some… misjudged opinions on you, and it’s past tense for a reason.”

Seokjin pulled a face. He still wasn’t too sure about that, but the kiss you landed on his mouth seemed to help.

“They’re here!!” Interrupted by the clicking of the door and Lina’s loud voice, you broke apart. “Found them kissing on the doorstep!”

You rolled your eyes and clasped Seokjin’s hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. “We hadn’t even rung the doorbell yet. How did you know we were here?”

“Porch light.” She replied flatly, pointing at you both and stepping aside to let you in. “None of that once you get inside. This is a sophisticated dinner party.”

“Got you,” you nodded, walking into the lounge to find Yumi, Taeil and Jimin already sat around the coffee table. “Here I was thinking it was some type of orgy…”

“Now that sounds like a party,” Taeil cheered.

Everyone laughed at that – apart from Lina of course… and surprisingly Seokjin, who looked too scared to even think about joking around… Or perhaps he just didn’t want to piss Lina off. Suck up.

“Get a room you two,” Yumi teased, wiggling her eyebrows as she watched you and Seokjin from over her wine glass. The dinner had been a success – Lina could actually cook. Who knew? Not you because you ordered takeout every time you hung out – and swiftly after that you’d moved onto entertainment. In the form of drinking games. Seokjin had seemed to loosen up by then, actually beginning to enjoy himself without any nerves. He and Lina had a few conversations. He’d even made her laugh which you thought he got rather smug about… After a good old game of beer pong (which wasn’t very fancy at all) you quickly moved onto ‘Never have I ever”, which of course had turned the three of you girls into a cackling mess. Things were said, things were confessed, and you were sure the guys didn’t know how to handle the details.

Now it was getting late, you were all winding down, sipping on wine or beer. Lina and Yumi were sharing the sofa with Jimin and Taeil, and Jin and you were curled up on the love seat. Definitely a little drunk, giggling and flirting together. His hand casually up your dress a little as he stroked your thigh.

“Surprised they got out of one long enough to come here,” Taeil commented.

“What do you expect? It’s only been a few weeks. They’re fresh in the feels.” Yumi almost pouted, turning to her boyfriend. “Babe, do you remember when we were like that?”

“How long have you been together?” Seokjin asked, and you kissed him on the cheek, proud he was making conversation. You’d been hanging out with his friends so often now it was normal, so it made you happy to know the same was beginning to happen with yours.

Taeil grinned and got Yumi into a bear hug, rubbing his cheek into hers as he answered. “One year, one month and 8 days. Want me to add the hours, baby?”

“Shurrup,” she shook him off her, but she was grinning from ear to ear at his dramatic display.

“Hey, Lina. Will that be us one day,” Jimin teased, draping his arm around her shoulders.

She played nonchalant, sipping on her wine. “Possibly.” Jimin just laughed, greatly amused by his girlfriend’s antics. It was obvious to anyone that she had fallen for him hard. Despite her cool façade.

“You guys were together before though, right?” Taeil directed the conversation back to you and Seokjin.

Your eyes widened, unsure on how to answer. “Uh, kinda.” Little did he know that every single thing you’d both answered during ‘Never have I ever’ had been about one another. Poor innocent Taeil…

“Big history,” Lina explained, puffing out her cheeks as she exhaled. They were bright red. She was drunk. Could tell by the way she was keeping everything that came out of her mouth short.

“I was there when they first hooked up,” Yumi added excitedly. “Well, not actually there. I was at the party.” Valid correction. “I didn’t know until a few months later though.” A pause.

“Honestly though, it was such a shock. Who would have thought it?” She continued. You shifted a little uncomfortably. You were never good with attention. “You and Kim Seokjin. Mind blown. I always thought you’d rather take a vow of celibacy than get dicked down by. Kim. Seokjin.”

Okay. So everyone was drunk, and here you were feeling like you were sobering up now. The sound of Jin’s laughter beside you eased you a little. “Let’s quit with the full name talk.”

Everyone laughed bar Lina, who turned her head to Yumi. “That’s why she kept it to herself for so long. He was her dirty little secret.”

“Hardly,” you piped up. You got she was kidding around, but for some reason you felt defensive. “Just know what you guys are like.”

“Well I think it’s cute how you guys decided to give it a proper go,” Jimin smiled. “You’re good together.”

Before you could say thanks, Lina was butting in. “I didn’t say they weren’t good together. They are! All we have to do now is wait for Seokjin to pop the question…”

“Marriage?” Taeil asked uncertainly.

“No, you idiot,” she laughed. “Girlfriend! They haven’t made it official yet.” You felt Seokjin freeze beside you. You didn’t dare look at him. Lina was in deep shit when you got home. Wrath over text was a scary thing.

“Oh, well no rush,” Taeil shrugged. “It took me two months to ask Yumi to be mine.”

“That’s true. Remember?” Yumi directed at you and Lina. “I was getting pretty panicky.”

“Awh, I’m sorry babe.” Taeil apologised. You all wrinkled your noses as they kissed, thankfully distracting the conversation long enough for it to change.

Surprisingly thanks to Lina herself. It was her groan that did it, as she buried her head into Jimin’s shoulder. “My head hurts and I need to stack everything in the dishwasher.”

“Didn’t you say no more wine a few nights ago,” you chuckled, throwing a cushion at her. She yelped dramatically. When you put your hand down, Seokjin clasped it, entwining your fingers. You snuck a smile his way. Knowing he wasn’t too traumatised by the direction of tonight’s conversation relieved you.

“Yeah Lina. C’mon. Lightweight,” Jimin prodded her. “We can clean up everything in the morning.”

“Noo. I think I’m going to be hungover tomorrow.” She whined. “Can someone help?”

“I will,” Seokjin offered. Shocking you, and everyone else in the room while he was at it. “Maybe some water will help you too?”

“Lina doesn’t hate me,” Seokjin sang in the back of the Uber. En route to his place.

You were wrapped into him, warm, cosy and a little sleepy. You couldn’t wait to crash out in bed. “Oh?” This piqued your interest though. He just sounded so pleased.

“Uh huh,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “We talked while in kitchen.” Oh okay. So he had ulterior motives when he helped her load the dishwasher. “She’s just suspicious of me. I get it. I don’t have the best track record. I think I put her mind at ease though.” He squeezed you happily.

Even though you were curious about their conversation you didn’t pry. “She still embarrassed you in front of everyone though.” And you… She still wasn’t let off the hook regardless of how drunk she was.

“It’s fine,” he sighed. “She put my mind at ease too. Told me I was worried for no reason.”

You frowned. “Worried? About what?”

“Asking you something.” Your heart stilled. Oh shit. He squeezed you again, murmuring in your ear. “Wanna take this further. These last few weeks have been amazing, huh?” All you could do was nod. You were getting all hot, cheeks a rosy hue no doubt. Forgetting the Uber driver could probably hear everything despite Seokjin’s low voice. Not that you really cared.

“I already think of you as my girlfriend. Just too scared to call you it. In case I jinx things. In case you’re secretly sick of me already.”

You managed to give him a tiny scoff. Voice shaky. “As if.”

“So…” He whispered. “Will you do it? Be my girlfriend?”

You swallowed, composing yourself and glanced at him. “You’re really asking me in the back of an Uber?”

He grinned. “I spot a moment and I’m going for it. Lina’s orders.”

You laughed, cupping his face. “You know you don’t have to listen to her, right?”

“I know,” he nodded. “She was just right this time.”

You turned, resting the back of your head on his shoulder. “I’ll only be your girlfriend under one condition.”

“Hm?” He placed another kiss on the top of your head, both arms wrapped around your chest.

“You’ll be my boyfriend.”

He hummed in contemplation. “That doesn’t sound too bad. May have to think about it for a few hours or so though. Maybe a night–ooff.”

You cut him off with a whack to the chest, twisting around to face him again. “It’s a yes or else.”

He curled his tongue against his cheek. “That’s hot.” You waited patiently. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“Wait. Wait, wait,” Seokjin half panted, breaking away from your mouth. It was a wonder you’d made it as far as his bedroom, let alone his bed. As soon as the Uber had dropped you off, you were on one another. It had finally happened. You were Seokjin’s girlfriend. He was your boyfriend, and now everything was right with the world.

“Let me do something.” He reached for his phone in the back pocket of his pants, rolling off you to unlock it and start clicking away. “Check your phone.”

On cue it pinged, still in your purse which had been slung on the floor. You sat up and rushed for it curiously. Laughing along the way because what was he up to? You laughed even harder when you read the notification.

Kim Seokjin sent you a relationship request.

Facebook official, huh? Check you two out. He came up from behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, his breathing still a little heavy. You had quite literally kissed his face off. “Was just gonna ask you like that but I thought it might me too lame.”

“Aw. That would’ve been cute.”

“Fuck,” he cursed, looking regretful. “Second guessing the Uber now.”

“Shush.” You murmured, leaning back to kiss him softly. “I liked that too.” You were sure the driver really appreciated the cringe fest too…

Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.

The noise from both your phones interrupted you this time. You begrudgingly pulled away, looking down at the screen.

Jung Hoseok commented on a post you were tagged in: HOLY SHIT Jung Hoseok commented on a post you were tagged in: IT’S HAPPENING IT’S HAPPENING IT’S HAPPENING Hwang Lina commented on a post you were tagged in: FINALLY thnk me later Seokjin 😘 Kim Namjoon commented on a post you were tagged in: marriage next 😉

Seokjin read them over your shoulder, laughing at your idiot friends as you groaned. “God. You’ll get scared away before we even start.”

He hugged you closer, kissing your cheek. “Not a chance in hell. Wanna elope?”

“Shut up,” you giggled. Despite your joking around, you didn’t think you’d ever been happier. You wanted to tell him that but then his mouth was on your earlobe. He knew that was your weakness. He was on his back and you were straddling him as soon as his tongue slipped inside the shell. If he wanted to make you all hot and bothered, a heads up would’ve been nice. You definitely weren’t tired anymore. Even more so feeling his hands drag up your thighs where your dress had ridden up. You viewed him from above, realising you must’ve tugged at his shirt a little too hard already. It was stretched around the collar, a button undone. He looked amazing. You tilted your head to the side. “Did I tell you how hot you look in a dress shirt?”

He paused to think. “Hm. You may have mentioned it a couple hundred times.” As he spoke he grabbed your butt, pulling you down to level with him. You giggled, letting him kiss your face like something possessed. He paused before he got to your mouth, murmuring sweetly. “You looked beautiful tonight.”

You pouted. “Don’t use big words to brag on my shitty vocabulary.”

He looked at you questioningly, amusement dancing in his eyes. Maybe you were still a little tipsy. That paired with the giddiness of tonight’s turn in events and it really felt like you were floating on a cloud of happiness. But it was really Seokjin’s body. Firm and large underneath you.

You really couldn’t get enough of his mouth. His taste. You think you’d kissed him way over a couple hundred times since you’d gotten (back) together. He argued and said it was more. You didn’t know, you had trouble keeping count. You couldn’t get enough of him. All perfect and pretty and amazing. He was yours. For real this time. Confirmed. Boyfriend. You smiled into his mouth at the thought again.

“What?” He chuckled, grin just as wide. He knew what. He felt it too.

“Tonight is the best night ever.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Am not.” You quipped. “You’re drunk.”

“Am not.” His lips were mashed with yours. “I’m just really fucking happy.”

You slipped your tongue into his mouth, not caring if you turned it sloppy. You wanted it to be messy. You wanted to just let yourself go. To give into every little feeling of pure joy you had in your body. It was wet and warm and sticky, and Seokjin’s hands were naughty. They slipped up your dress, over your ass, rubbing the flesh and pinged your thong with two of his fingers. Your stomach flipped. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched you like this in a while but it was the first time he’d been so blatant about it. The snap of elastic stayed ringing in your ears as you moaned. You uncontrollably rubbed against him. He grunted into your mouth and something throbbed.

You broke away from his mouth with a pop, sitting up on him wobbly. “You’re naughty, Kim Seokjin.” You scolded.

He just looked smug, a shit eating grin on his face. “Not anymore than you are.” Had you pulled at his hair without noticing? It looked a little wild. Regardless, you were getting distracted again. His hands still up your dress, gripping your ass as he rubbed you against his crotch. He was fully hard. You felt it strain against his pants and press into the pulsing between your legs.

“Mario is watching us,” he whispered. “Wants to be me.”

“Ew.” You wrinkled your nose. You’d forgotten all about that creepy figurine.

“Want me to turn him around?”

You shook your head. “He can watch.” If truth be told you couldn’t bear it if Seokjin got up right now, even if he was coming straight back. You circled harder into him, such a simple pleasure never feeling so good. Moisture grew and collected in your thong. Barely. You were a few minutes away from spoiling his dress pants. He held your weight as you leant back, letting you grind to your heart’s content.

“Does it feel good? Grinding on my dick like that?”

“Mhmm.” It was all a moan. Couldn’t think to do anything else. Such a simple way of words but it had you burning up. You’d missed what his mouth could do to you. You’d missed him like this. Memories came back, swarming the front of your mind. Clouding it. So when you felt gravity leave you, back landing on the mattress with a silent thud, you were momentarily stunned. Pinned down, wet and horny.

“What are you doing?” You gasped, which flew into a moan when you felt his crotch thrust into you.

He spread your legs, dress riding up even more, bunched up around your waist. “Protecting your modesty. Mario’s a pervert.” To give it to him, he really did want to sound causal, but his voice was strained, breathing hard and you rubbed against him shamelessly.

It was odd. You were beyond frustrated. Craving him like you never had before, but this became enough. Feeling him solid against your barely covered core, starting to thrust into you like he was actually fucking you. It was hot. It was working. It was enough. Just as pleasurable as his dick would be inside you.

Needy and raw. Messy and crude, but just so amazing. Pent up feelings finally getting their own way. You clung to him, wrapped your legs around him, rutted against him obscenely until you were a moaning, sweaty mess. Simulating sex desperately, because you needed him and wanted him any which way.

Seokjinnn,” you whined, unsticking yourself from his mouth to catch your breath. Back arching as he gripped your legs from behind the knee, thrusting forward hard.

He was panting, sweat collecting between his brow which was furrowed in effort. “C-can you cum like this?”

“Y-yeh,” you nodded eagerly. It was great you were on the same page. Sweet relief was close. It tingled through your body and curled your toes. You were so turned on you’d cum from anything right now. “Can you?”

“I think so,” he breathed into your cleavage. Mouth now distracted with kissing the tops of your breasts. Your nipples were painfully hard, desperate to be freed from the dress and desperate to feel his tongue. But not tonight. “Actually.” Seokjin knelt up, shaky hands undoing his fly and pushing his pants down to the middle of his thighs. His erection strained against the underwear and you throbbed at the sight.

“Now I can,” he grinned goofily. He moved closer, and you flattened one of your legs to the bed, letting him slide in between it and the one still folded at the knee. “I’m so hard,” he laughed breathlessly, a hand reaching down to grip his dick. You followed, unable to help yourself. Squeezing tightly. Greedily. “Fuck.” He sounded impatient and desperate, rushing to thrust into you once again. You moved your hand to his hip, holding it tightly as he held onto your knee, gaining leverage to begin rubbing into you hard. “This feels so good.” He astounded and you nodded wildly in agreement.

You were close. Not long left, and as soon as he began circling into your core, swollen and dripping by now surely, that was it. The final push. “Don’t stop.” You begged, reaching for him any way you could. “I’m g-onna… I really am…” You trailed off, laughing in disbelief.

“Yeah?”

You nodded again, words now failing you as the heat built up, body shuddering to its orgasm. Seokjin didn’t relent, circling harder as you came, until he couldn’t take it any longer and collapsed onto your body.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He was spent. Exhausted, sweaty and near orgasm himself. You shifted a little so he didn’t rub against the sensitivity still hot between your legs and let him finish off on the inside of your thigh. You could tell by how his body stiffened, a moan like grunt dragging from his throat. You moaned back, wrapping your arms around him tightly as he burrowed his behind your waist. You clung to one another, both masses of sweat. Heavy breathed and unable to talk for a little while.

It was Seokjin that came to first surprisingly. Despite practically dying to get you both to cum. He laughed into the crook of your neck, and you looked down at him curiously. He rolled off you a little. Hair stuck to his forehead. “Jesus fucking christ. Feel like a teenager just done humping my pillow.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t do that anymore?”

His eyes widened. “You do?”

You nodded as you wriggled free from him fully and pulled down your dress. Your underwear clung to you. You felt extra sticky now that you’d cooled down. “It’s a valid form of masturbation.”

“Well, shit. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

You laughed, sitting up. Seokjin stayed lying down, looking up you with the softest look in his eyes. He was definitely exhausted from all the humping. “Shit. Sandeul isn’t here right?” You hadn’t thought about that before, severely distracted as you’d rushed into the apartment.

“I dunno. I can’t remember if his door was closed or not.” Jin rolled onto his back, shimmying his pants up. “Oh well. Not like he wasn’t used to it before. Won’t take him long to adjust again.” He shot you a smirk and you giggled. “Wanna shower or something?”

You groaned. It was too late to shower, and you were tired again, but there was no way you could stay like this. You jumped off the bed, grabbing your stuff that had a permanent home at his place already. “I’ll clean up quick and get ready for bed.”

“I’ll go after you.” He pulled a face, adjusting his crotch. “Bit gross.”

Laughing, you stopped beside him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Wanna go first?”

“Nah. It’s fine.” He smiled. “I need a moment anyway. Whew.”

On your way out you paused by Mario, twisting him to face the wall. You winked in Seokjin’s direction. “For next time.”

You were tucked up in bed trying to stay awake on your phone when Seokjin came back from his shower. “Near naked?” Damn. What did you do to be gifted with such a sight. You’d seen him come out the shower a few times since you’d gotten together, towel slung around his waist, or watched him get dressed before you went out somewhere, but he hadn’t gone to bed in just his boxers. He better watch it, you’d jump his bones again.

“I’m so hot.” He moaned. Tell you about it. Although you didn’t think he meant that type of hot. “That was a bigger work out than the gym.”

“Not used to it anymore.” You teased, pulling up his side of the duvet so he could get in. As soon as he did you were attached to him, cuddling up. “You lied to me by the way,” you murmured, pulling away as you dragged your hand down his chest.

“Hm?” He looked confused.

“Remember you said you didn’t have abs anymore…”

He took a moment to think before he scoffed. “That was ages ago, but these are not abs regardless.”

“Are to.”

“Are not.” He tried to pull the comforter up, attempting to cover his body. “This is just normal. I mean, I can try and get them back for you?”

“Shut up,” you exclaimed. “Really, Seokjin?” You clung to his neck. “I don’t care about things like that. I like you any which way. I really like you.” You emphasised, placing a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“Get off,” he chuckled. You could feel his grin underneath your lips.

You buried your face in his neck instead, showering it with little kisses. “I think you’re hot, Hot, HOT anyway.”

He was laughing loudly now, grabbing your elbows to try and push you away. “Tickles,” he whined. “You’re crazy.” You sprung from him as soon as he began tickling under your armpits. Relenting instantly, head falling back into the pillows with a cry.

“I think you’re hot too,” he whispered, leaning over you, mouth now on your neck as one of his hands ran up your side, cupping your boob gently. “Grinding on me. Making me lose my shit. Only you could make me cum like that… In my fucking underwear.” You giggled, squirming under him as he growled and nibbled your earlobe. You were heating up again, a fool to his words. But of course your body had to betray you. A yawn escaped. You didn’t even know you’d been holding it in.

“You’re tired,” he commented, pulling back to push stray strands of hair away from your face.

“Mmm,” you admitted, eyes heavy and begging to be closed.

He kissed the tip of your nose. “Let’s go to sleep.”

There was no point arguing. Besides, it just felt too good being wrapped up in Seokjin’s arms once he’d flicked the lamp off. “Goodnight girlfriend,” he murmured in your ear, shaking you a little when you only hummed in response, half asleep. “Say it back.”

‘Goodnight girlfriend.”

“Nooo,” he whined, squeezing you.

You giggled, entwining your hand with his. You were just teasing. “Goodnight boyfriend.”

Written 2019. Reworked/Edited 2020 Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2020

#seokjin smut #bts smut #jin smut #seokjin fic #bts fic #fic:crystallised #floralseokjin:writings

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pagingevilspawn · 4 years

Text

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter two

hey guys, here’s chapter two of LYIALG! won’t make this too long, i just hope that everyone had a great thanksgiving (or just a great thursday to lots of you!) and i hope you guys like this chapter. it’s probably a bit boring, but... hey, i write, i decide lol. if anyone is confused, this story takes place after 5x24, but before the merger.

~*~

"i'm still fixing all the cracks"

~*~

"yeah. fuck."

____

the two sit in silence for god know how long. now matter how many times they go over it in their minds, it's still unbelievable to them, they cheated on their spouses. who the hell does that? who simply decides that who they married wasn't worth it and screws the first person they find attractive once they're alone? horrible people, that's who, and that's what they felt like right now. horrible freaking people.

at this point they weren't even sure why they were still in the room together. maybe it was the fact that they could dwell in their acts of adultery together, maybe they just found the presence of the other just enough to fill the void of loneliness that had never seemed to leave them, no matter what they did or who they were with. all they knew was that simply sitting there, on the cold tile floor multiple feet apart, made what they did a little more bearable for themselves, seeing the other look just as miserable about it as they did.

"we're horrible people." brooke mutters, mustering up the courage to sit and stand up groggily from her fetal position on the floor. she turns on the faucet and ducks her head under it, collecting the water in her mouth before swishing it around and then spitting it into the sink, leaving her mouth to feel much better than it did before, thanks to the fact that remnants of beer and tequila no longer seemed to coat the roof of her tongue and mouth.

"yeah, we are." alex agrees. it was the first time the girl had truly listened to him speak, and he had a deep voice, a bit of a gruffness behind it, but that might just be because of the hangover. she takes a good look at the guy, since she didn't have the opportunity to earlier.

he only had on a pair of boxers before he entered the bathroom and was currently the same now, but other than that he was completely bare. he was well built with a six pack and nice arm muscles. his eyes were a dark brown with a hint of green, and he had a sharp jawline. his hair was cut short, and he had a barely-there stubble on his face. a shiny gold wedding band sat on his left ring finger, which he fiddled with unconsciously.

brooke opens and closes her mouth a few times, nothing seeming to come out for a good minute. "did- did we think that we were our partners? maybe?" she suggests lamely, not missing the way the guy she now knew as alex scanned over her briefly.

"definitely not." he mutters, huffing out a breath as he leans back against the wall, one knee to his chest as the other lays straight out in front of him. "my wife is tall, blonde, and has dark brown eyes. you're like... the complete opposite of her."

"sounds like a model." brooke mumbles, a small smile on her face, attempting to crack a joke to ease the situation. oh who the fuck was she kidding? there was no way to ease this situation.

"she was. in med school, i mean. did a bunch of bethany whisper stuff." alex shrugs, missing the way the girl's jaw practically drops.

"damn." she mutters. she looks at alex a bit more, squinting her eyes at him, which doesn't go unnoticed by the man.

he turns and looks sharply at her, "what?" he gruffs out, trying his best to intimidate the younger woman, but to his surprise she doesn't even flinch. it was like she was used to sudden behavior changes.

brooke lips her lips, trying her best to form her thoughts as complete sentences. "you don't even really, i mean- you don't look like my husband... you just- look like my type." she settles on.

alex smirks the slightest bit, "your type?" he teases lightly, making fun of the way she sounded a bit like a middle school girl gossiping about the new boy in the english class.

she glares at him, "shut up."

she wasn't lying though, the man was her type. and by her type she meant dark hair and dark eyes. but she supposed that also meant over half of the male population, so she wouldn't consider him all that special.

alex chuckles softly, not trying to make his headache any worse than it was. he peers through the bathroom doorway, glancing at the clock on the hotel's nightstand, doing a double take after he turns around for a second time, hoping he was just seeing things wrong.

"shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." he curses out, abruptly standing up from his place on the floor, pulling brooke up with him. she lets out a groan in protest at the quick moment, but ultimately makes her way back into the room.

alex starts shoving on his jeans, looking at brooke as he does so. "you're here for the pre-med conference right?" he asks, making her nod.

"well, so am i, and my mentor needs me to help her with her speech and all that crap at nine thirty, and right now it's nine eighteen. and she goes on at nine forty-five" he says, making her nod. she still didn't quite get why that involved her though.

noticing her confusion he speaks up, "my mentor is arizona robbins." he says simply, making the girl go wide eyed.

"holy shit." she whispers. no way in hell would she wouldn't go to a lecture by the arizona robbins, who was practically a pediatric surgeon god.

alex nods, "yeah, and i'm guessing you don't want to miss that." he states, making the girl bob her head up and down.

"y-yeah, thank you." she stutters out, going to her suitcase and quickly grabbing an outfit while she internally thanks the universe that they ended up back in her room at the end of the night and not his.

she hears the door to the hotel room open and him start to leave, before the footsteps stop, causing her to turn around. "i just want to say..." he trails off, ignoring his internal arguments from earlier, "i'm sorry. i'm really sorry, and if this is making you feel even half as guilty as i am... then i'm even more sorry." he says sympathetically, not missing the way her eyes fill with tears.

"don't be." she whispers, watching as the man nods and shuts the door behind him.

it was then she started to let the tears fall.

god, guilty.

that's all she was able to feel.

she felt guilty that she cheated on her husband. she felt guilty that she helped the man cheat on his wife. she felt guilty that she found the man she cheated with attractive. she felt guilty that alex apologized for what happened as if it was his fault. because it was her fault right? that's what paul would say.

he would say that it was her fault, which... it made sense that it was right? right. because that's what paul would say. she learned not to question him over the past year, the look in his eyes that he got when she would say something 'wrong' was a bit scary to her, but she shrugged it off every time, since the little flame always disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

but the guilt. oh, it was horrible. it was coursing through her veins like a rapid river, having no sense of direction as it splashed inside of brooke, coating her skin and organs in its treacherous layer of pain.

who knew feeling guilty could be so painful? she didn't. she had no idea what to do. was she supposed to tell paul? to tell her husband that she broke their sacred vows after only being married for three months? she loved him, oh, she loved him so much. he was so charming and sweet and looked at her like she was a beautiful rose, blooming fresh out of the ground. how was she supposed to let the man she loved know that she cheated? gone would be the way he looked at her like the reddest rose in the garden, and instead he would look at her like she had just told him that his father had died. no, she couldn't do that.

maybe it was selfish, actually, she knew it was selfish. because telling him would only be a way to make herself feel less guilty, but at the same time, not telling him was also selfish. it would be selfish in the way that she didn't want to see him hurt. how could she bear to see him hurt? after everything, she couldn't hurt him. he gave her food, a house, nice clothes, gifts, love. he gave her everything, she couldn't hurt him.

so she decided then, paul wouldn't know. it would be a secret, a secret that she knew for a fact would eat her up alive, but she knew it would be better than telling him. he'd been getting angrier lately, and she knew it was probably just a phase, but it was a phase she wasn't really liking much so far. she assumed that that's what happened after you get married. you are finally able to show all of the good, the bad, and the ugly. but it's okay, she can deal with a bit of ugly. that's what marriage is for anyways, sticking by your partner through everything.

she shakes it off. no matter how badly she felt, paul couldn't know. it was a one time thing. it would never happen again. she would never see this man again. it was a one time thing.

____

alex karev walked out of the room with his head down low, focusing on leather shoes he spent a crap ton of money on. he felt guilty. his wife had cancer and was currently in remission, and all he can do is go off and screw someone.

but he felt guilty for cheating on his wife, and for finding the woman that he cheated with hot. that was the worst feeling of all. that after everything she was just as attractive to him as she would've been if he wasn't married. how messed up was that?

he wasn't this guy anymore. he had hardly looked any other woman's way since he had been with izzie. how could he? she was perfect. she was beautiful and kind and funny. and he loved her. so how could he just throw all that away like it was nothing?

but he knew he couldn't tell her. she didn't deserve the pain that it would bring her. she had been through enough in her life. she had just beat cancer for god's sake, with a five percent chance of survival! she was so fucking strong. he admired izzie. she fought like hell and she pulled through. she didn't deserve to take another hit. especially not one front the husband who promised to love her and stay loyal to her through everything.

for better or worse. in sickness and in health. thats what the vows were right? so why the hell couldn't he do one god damn thing in his life right? why couldn't he keep the most important promise to the woman he loved? was he really that screwed up? was he really that terrible? why did he always have to screw himself out of everything good? and this time, he literally screwed himself out of it.

alex shrugs off his thoughts as he makes his way to his room on the seventh floor, quickly taking a shower and brushing his teeth, styling his hair to the best of his ability with the small amount of gel he had left, he made a mental note to pick some up when he got back to seattle. he made sure to use extra deodorant and the tiniest hint of a cologne he had for special occasions, the last thing he needed was robbins smelling any leftover alcohol on him. he would never get on her good side then.

he changes into a pair of black slacks and a button up white shirt. he tries to put on a dark blue tie but ultimately gives up after a multitude of half assed attempts, shoving it into his pocket gruffly. usually meredith did them for him.

he grumbles something incoherently under his breath as he grabs his phone from his nightstand, where he plugged it into charge a few minutes before. he shoves the device into his pocket as he makes his way out the door, immediately bumping into the last person he wanted to see at the moment.

"karev!" arizona chirps, her voice not only happy and cheerful, but loud too, making alex internally wince. he didn't need more loud noises right now, he had just popped a couple of aspirins and was still waiting for them to kick in.

but still, he forces a crooked half smile, "hey robbins." alex knew he needed to be on her good side. he had been getting really interested in peds lately, but arizona didn't think he would be good in it, meaning she was still skeptical. but he loved it. it was so... intense. and hardcore. heartbreaking, at times, of course. nothing was worse than losing a child patient, but that only made the successes that much more valuable.

with peds, he felt something. he liked to get to know his patients and make up random handshakes with them. but he didn't like kids though. don't think he did. he definitely didn't. he just admired those kids in the peds ward. they were all fighters in a fun sized package, and don't even get him started on the babies in the NICU.

those were the hardest fighters in the hospital, no question there. these tiny little lives battled so hard, they fought their absolute hardest from the second they were born, and for that, he had to admire them. how could he not?

the point was that he needed robbins to like him. actually, he really needed robbins to like him, because she was the best, and he wanted to learn from the best. he would do everything he possibly could to make sure he became the surgeon he wanted to be, the surgeon he left iowa to be. he practically had to beg robbins to let him join her, but that was okay, he didn't mind. he was determined. normally a fellow would be chosen to do lectures like these, but the blonde decided that she wanted to have a resident come with her this time, since they had been in med-school no too long ago. she wanted someone who could still relate to the pupils on a personal level.

arizona takes a glance over at him, her eyes narrowing at him a bit, "you look like crap." she deadpans.

alex purses his lips and runs a hand through his hair, temporarily forgetting that he had gel in it, which causes his finger to get stuck in a strand, making him wince as he pulls it through. "didn't sleep too well."

which was a lie. which made him feel guilty. he didn't necessarily feel guilty about lie, he felt guilty that his lie wasn't true. which he supposed, was the point of a lie... but still. the truth was, he couldn't remember the last time he had slept that well.

he shakes off his thoughts, thanking the universe the arizona looked to believe him and gives him a nod of understanding before she rattles on about her speech.

it was a one time thing. it would never happen again. he would never see this woman again. it was a one time thing.

____

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moiranetex · 3 years

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Harry Potter - 1 Element idk

Erm idk what this is really. I’ve been wanting to start this story for ages so i did. It’s a bit of a mess and im not entirely sure if I like all the details. Its unedited but idc.

The fire in the Gryffindor common room burned brightly on the eve of the second night back at Hogwarts. Classes were back in full swing, a new batch of first years were wondering around completely lost and Hermione Granger was completing a potions essay 2 weeks in advance, in the corner of the room. It was getting increasingly difficult as none of her peers seemed to share her motivation nor her ability to be quiet. Ronald Weasley had just flipped a game of Wizards chess, that he was playing with Harry Potter, off one of the many couches that were positioned around the room. The pieces scattered all over the carpet in front of the fire as Harry, along with others, roared with laughter. Hermione concluded that this must have been one of the very rare times Harry managed to beat Ronald at the game. While little groups were placed all around the large room either chatting, reading, gossiping, playing, napping or participating in more scandalous activities, a large group surrounded two Weasley siblings in particular. Hermione knew that Fred and George Weasley were almost certainly in the process of selling their joke products to unsuspecting teenagers in their own hilariously obvious version of a black market. She huffed to herself, frustrated that she would be once again interrupted. She was after all a prefect and probably the only person in the room equipped with enough wit to go up against the twins. She felt her cheeks go red with anger, however, just as she was preparing herself for the argument that would surely ensue, the portrait that served as an entrance into the Gryffindor quarters was opened and Professor McGonagall strolled through, her beady eyes instantly taking in the scene. Chaos ensued for a good 10 seconds as students hid whatever needed to be hidden, stopped swapping spit, ceased shouting and turned respectfully towards their head of house. The Weasley twins took advantage of the large amount of students blocking their view to stash their outrageous stock. Professor Mcgonagall pursed her lips distastefully at her students, not a thing slipping past her. She chose not to comment or dole out punishments as she was, despite never admitting it, both bias and genuinely fond of every student in her house. Her eyes settled on Hermione as she started to speak in her distinguished Scottish accent

“Miss Granger, would you kindly accompany me to Dumbledores office. Apparently there is a new student joining us, she will be in your year and as you are prefect it seems only logic that she should be put under your care.”

Immediately whispers broke out among the students. It was extremely rare for someone to arrive at Hogwarts after the first year. There were those that came back slightly later from vacation, but there had only ever been a handful in this situation.

“It probably means she was attending a different school, an International student. Thats so fun!”

“Yeah, unless she’s been shipped in from Durmstrang, then you better stick clear of her.”

“Durmstrang is a school for boys you idiot, and it probably means she’s homeschooled, so either super rich or super poor, there really is no in between.”

“Bloody hell I hope not. Remember that Slytherin chap that had been homeschooled ‘till year 7, he was a right weirdo. Even the Slytherins didn’t like him and they like anyone pure and rich.”

“SILENCE,” shouted a fed up Mcgonogall. It was starting to get late and she wasn’t in the mood for the gossip flying around her common room.

“Firstly I don’t even know why the majority of you are still up at this hour, I technically don’t have the right to dictate what time you choose to put yourself to bed but I can certainly change that if I happen to observe that it isn’t to complete schoolwork,” she sent a particularly scathing look at the Weasley twins her who, in return, smiled politely at her as innocently as they could manage.

“And Second of all, although I don’t know her very well yet I can assure you she isn’t some type of ‘weirdo’ as you have so gracefully put it Ronald. Now Hermione if you wouldn’t mind,” she gestured into the hallway, clearly wanting to get this over with.

…

Hermione eyes widened as she took in the people currently in Dumbledore’s office. Unfortunately Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin in her year, and his best friend Blaise Zabini were there, scowls gracing both their faces. Blaise was sat in one of the two seats in front of the Heads desk while Draco was perched on the edge of on of the smaller tables in the room. Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house and the bane of the majority of Gryffindors existence, stood in the corner with his normal grimace. Professor Dumbledore sat in his chair, behind his large desk with a pleasant smile on his lips and a baby phoenix in his hand. Finally in the second chair to Blaise’s right sat one of the most beautiful girls Hermione had ever seen. The girl had dark caramel skin, not dissimilar to Blaise. Her hair flowed down to her lower back in brown micro braids, the front being pinned back so as to not get in the way, however a few pieces were spared to frame her face. She had large brown eyes coupled with thick lashes. She had plump lips, dimples and a small nose that contained a tiny gold piercing. Immediately Hermione noticed two things. Firstly, she shared two many characteristics with the boy beside her for them to not be closely related. The same skin tone, full mouth and thick eyebrows, however they also had the same air of superiority, grace and poise that accompanied all rich, pureblood individuals. Secondly, Hermione noted that she was groomed to perfection, only serving to prove her theory further. She was already in the Hogwarts uniform, though lacking the tie. There wasn’t a single crease in her attire, it looked expensive and well made. Her fingernails were manicured, a shiny cherry red color was glaring against the darker hues of her uniform and looked slightly out of place. Hermione observed a thin layer of makeup on the girl to accentuate her features, along with what was clearly real gold jewellery in the form of rings, a necklace, and her nose piercing.

After making these observations, Hermione concluded that she was surely dealing with some sort of pureblood brat and therefore was rather shocked when the girl gave her a large and seemingly genuine smile, her white teeth accentuated by the shiny gloss on her lips. Hermione smiled back, somewhat apprehensively but as a general rule she didn’t like to let stereotypes define how she saw people.

“Ah Hermione, come in. We were just having a little chat,” murmured Dumbledore. At this statement, Draco Malfoy lifted his head up to look at Blaise Zabini who was, for lack of a better word, fuming. Blaise was never someone who talked a lot or was overly expressive. Because of his height, good looks and general ability to intimidate people he never blended into the background but he was usually stoic, a living statue. Around his friends he was a little more open, and those who knew him very well or had had the occasion to witness him drunk knew he could be funny and open however he had always been a man of few words and was incredibly private. Draco Malfoy was almost his polar opposite, not only in appearance with his silver hair and pale skin, but also in personality. It was hard to get Malfoy to shut up a majority of the time. While he too was conventionally attractive, rather tall and certainly domineering, he loved to talk, particularly if it mean making fun of people. He, like Blaise, was intelligent and had a quick wit which he loved to share. While it was difficult to get information out of Blaise about essentially anything, Draco was an open book to such a point that he could be considered insufferable at times, even by those who loved him.

Severus Snape, observing his two students, felt it was a good time to intervene. Not only was he bias towards members of his own house, he held an actual fondness for the two boys in front of him and the fact that he was very close to both their parents, who would absolutely be hearing about this, meant he felt somewhat of a responsibility towards the girl in the chair. The fact that she was his goddaughter didn’t escape him either.

“Dumbledore, with respect I find it…,” he paused for a second, trying to find a polite and sophisticated way to say that there was no bloody way he would allow his only goddaughter to be placed into Gryffindor.

“-preposterous to entertain the mere thought of Miss Zabini entering into Gryffindor. She would be much better suited to Slytherin, with her brother and friends. I’m sure her parents, in particular her mother, would agree with me,” he drawled, bringing up the one thing that may possibly force the stubborn Headmaster to change his mind and defy the ragged hat that currently sat on his desk.

“Come now Severus, the hat has placed her into Gryffindor and so it must be fate. I can assure you if Carmen Zabini has any other problems she can always contact me, I would be happy to deal with her,” Dumbledore replied cheerily, however it was obvious to everyone in the room that the discussion was tense and the mention of Mrs. Zabini had been employed as some sort of threat.

“Bloody hat,” mumbled a frustrated Zabini, not as discreetly as he perhaps should have.

“This is ridiculous, she cant go into Gryffindor. She’s a pureblood and she already knows us all, it’s idiotic. Not only will you have her mother breaking down the door of this school, but my father will have something to say about it too,” interrupted Malfoy after seeing just how angry his friend was.

Just as Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond the girl spoke for the first time since Hermione arrived. Turning around to look Draco in the eye, almost challenging him. She had quite a soft voice that was comforting and sounded sweet, even as she spoke icily to Malfoy. Hermione couldn’t really place the accent. It had some weird intonations from what was probably Italian, and while it was closest to a high class english accent, some words slid out sounding american.

“Draco, stop. This is ridiculous, it’s just a house. There are pure-bloods in Gryffindor, not that it matters. And I while I do have the most friends in Slytherin I know some people in other houses. Anyway it’s an opportunity to meet new people. As for mother I already had a discussion about this before coming here, if she has further issues she can take it up with my father,” she took a deep breath and then turned to her brother, speaking in a much lower tone she continued

“-and I know you’re worried about me but you are completely overreacting Blaise. We’ll still see each other all the time and I’ll even wear that idiotic watch that mother sent you if you’re absolutely serious about it.”

“Oh, I am,” muttered Blaise, giving his sister his full attention, his dark eyes still glittering in anger. He looked quite terrifying, thought Hermione.

“The Weasleys barely count as pureblood Magda,” snorts Draco in the most incredible display of brattiness and bad timing that he was capable.

Immediately all eyes were on him, he didn’t seems to regret what he said however.

“Yes thank you for that Malfoy, I’m sure thats what everyone needed to hear,” the girl, who Hermione had now learned was named Magda, said with utmost sarcasm.

“Well, if that’s all-” Magda stood up abruptly, clearly sick of the back and forth that was heading nowhere. She bent down, giving her brother a kiss on the cheek and then went over to Draco, who lowered his head so she could do the same.

“You’re an idiot. Goodnight,” she whispered, still glaring at him. Both boys frustrated her, Draco more so than her own brother but she never liked going to bed angry, especially with those she loved.

“Just doing my job aren’t I?” He replied sarcastically giving her a little grin. She rolled her eyes before nodding at Snape who nodded back to her, never being one for affection. She then strolled over to stand next to Hermione.

“Thank you very much Professor Dumbledore, Professor Mcgonnogall. If that is all I do apologise for I’m rather tired and would probably benfit from some rest,” she smiled at Dumbledore who smiled back.

“Of course Miss. Zabini, you and Hermione may go. I didn’t realise this little meeting would take so long.”

Both girls departed as quickly as they could, but not before hearing Mcgonogall and Snape arguing over whether Slytherin house should lose points over Draco’s ‘insensitive’ comment.

“It was demeaning, rude and elitist. I say he should lose 20 points for that behaviour,” they heard Mcgonogall snap.

“You cant deduct points from students for stating mere facts Minnerva,” Snape replied cuttingly. After listening to Mcgonnagal splutter for about five seconds he rephrased his sentence.

“Malfoy was merely sharing an opinion, a point of view. Opinions are diverse, you cannot go around punishing people for them.”

“You bloody watch-”

…

#harry potter #unfinished #harry potter x oc #drabble #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #hermione #fred weasley #george weasley #ronald weasley #weasley family #potter #slowburn

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screensirenfic · 4 years

Text

Menthol Cigarettes - Chapter 2

dinThe future had come to Hawkins, and it came in the form of shining neon and All American capitalism.

The Starcourt Mall was open for business, offering every category of Hawkins’ favourite pastimes, from a brand new multiplex movie theatre, to a sprawling food court that offered the chance to stuff your face with junk food from the world over.

And of course; there was shopping. Shoe stores, clothes stores, jewellery stores, record stores, and just about every store you could think of all under one roof.

It was consumer culture at its finest, and a big part of me was still struggling to see the appeal of it, but apparently the rest of Hawkins wasn’t so much, having already embraced the Starcourt corporation with open arms, judging by the near impossibility to get a parking spot out front.

Still; the Wheeler kid was late, and the last thing I wanted to be doing was traipsing through half a mile of badly parked station wagons and sedans just to get to the front door.

Instead I rolled straight up to the entrance and parked on the sidewalk, because what were they gonna do?! Call the cops on me?!

Mike wasted no time, hopping off the back of my bike before it was even stationary to run up to a familiar gaggle of misfits waiting outside the front doors.

“You’re late!”

I could already hear the disbarring voice of Lucas Sinclair as he began lecturing Mike from the moment he was in earshot.

“I’m sorry-“ - Mike began to apologise; having given up on arguing back weeks ago.

“Again!” Lucas continued; not willing to hear the twentieth excuse Mike had for ditching his friends for my baby sister.

Still; I could understand Lucas’ frustration; after all, the world didn’t stop the moment you started smacking lips with someone on a regular basis.

“We’re going to miss the opening!”

Jonathan’s little brother; Will interrupted, clearly more concerned with missing out on vital minutes of Hollywood magic than any relationship troubles, but even I could see that whether they wanted sweet or butter popcorn was the last thing on these kids’ minds.

“Don’t worry shit about it. I’ll get you in.” I assured him, already beginning to lead the way into the mall, with a hopefully silent entourage following in my stead.

Starcourt was sprawling; gargantuan, really. An ever stretching multi faith temple dedicated to the gods of Pepsi Co and The Coca-Cola Company.

Over processed perms bounced around the place in a sea of pastel prints, congregating around artificial plants and real life water features.

People ate, drank, shopped and gossiped beneath the starlit sky of a state-of-the-art glass roof, complete with shiny new escalators and even shinier tile floors.

The whole thing seemed very big city and entirely out-of-place in the proverbial toilet stop of a town that was Hawkins.

Still; the young and wide-eyed population of Hawkins flocked to it like rats to a garbage truck and the kids were no exception; even if they insisted in spending half their time bickering in it.

“Let me guess, you were busy...” Lucas complained; finishing off with a trail of sucky noises which I guess was meant to pass as kissing.

“Yeah. Real mature Lucas.” Deadpanned Mike, clearly having had to put up with this for the whole of the summer, perhaps longer.

“Oh; El, I wish we could make out forever and ever and never hang out with any of our friends” Lucas mocked in a high pitched voice and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes back into their sockets; because were kids really this petty?!

“Lucas; stop-“ Max cautioned; the spritely redhead always the voice of reason in these situations.

“Will thinks it’s funny...” Lucas remarked, drawing attention to the quiet kid trailing at the back of our convoy.

“Because it is!” Will stated, heralding our entrance to the main foyer of Starcourt.

I could already spy our ticket in on the floor below; I just wish these damn kids would shut up long enough for us to get there.

“Yeah; it’s so funny to want to spend romantic time with my girlfriend.” Argued Mike; and really?! That’s what he was calling it now?!

“I’m spending romantic time with my girlfriend right now-“ Lucas pointed out, throwing his arm around Max’s shoulder in a move that was far too smooth for a fourteen year old.

“Will you guys please shut up!” I exclaimed; already having heard enough of every side of the argument on the Mike and Eleven dating saga, and really wanting to think about something else for once.

The kids conceded; smart enough to know it was never wise to piss off their ticket to sneaking into the movie theatre, and I led them down the packed escalator to a chorus of “Excuse me’s” and “Sorry’s”.

After narrowly missing barrelling into a crowd of preppily dressed preteens and Max practically towing Lucas away from a very immature verbal spar with his little sister, I led the party into the pastel striped lair of our unknowing key master.

———————————————————

“Hey Robin!”

I called out, leading the kids into Hawkins’ first nautical themed ice cream parlour, “Scoops Ahoy!”

Behind the counter, slinging cheap gelato was the less than shipshape form of Robin Buckley; a surly looking freckled brunette who I vaguely knew from English and History Class.

Still; I could understand why the girl was pissed off half the time, considering company policy required her to dress up like the corporate equivalent of Olive Oyl every day.

“Hey Lola; what can I do to float your boat on this fine day?” She asked, flashing one of those rare dry smiles that reminded me that she wasn’t all rainclouds and thunderbolts.

“I need a favour...” I began, leaning on the edge of the counter, and already Robin knew exactly the kind of favour I was looking for.

“Hey Dingus! The wife and kids are here!” Robin called out, turning to the back of the store, where said Dingus appeared from behind frosted glass slide windows.

“Really; Lo?” Sighed Steve; looking equal parts hilarious and adorable in his matching Popeye shirt and shorts.

I just shot him a smile, knowing that despite his protests, Steve would help me out anyway.

After all; what are friends for?

TAGLIST: @lemonypink @daringvixon

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angstymdzsthoughts · 5 years

Text

Talk Part 1 (ft. Wen Ruohan)

Wen Ruohan knew reality better than his younger lover did. He knew that there was very, very little that he or A'Ren could do to change the Wen Elders decisions, even if his own weakling of a Father told him otherwise. Marry the Lan and you will have a lifetime of happiness and love, the old man crowed at him when he learned of their relationship. Truly a shock for the Wen heir when he remembered his father's displeasure of the other major clans and their tiresome tirades of righteousness, traditions, and propriety.

But, ever the realist, Wen Ruohan pointed out the obvious flaw in his father's decision.

"Of course, you can take one of your siblings' children as your own to carry. Though it is preferable-"

"Enough, Lord Wen. Do not inculcate your foolishness on to the Young Master." One of the elders cut in, expression severe as he glared. "Do not forget that the Young Master has duties he must fulfil if he is to become the sect leader."

"The child would still be a Wen," his father said pointedly, tone becoming ever so slightly submissive as he balked at the Elder's interruption.

"Since Founder Wen, every leader of this great house has been of the Sect Leader's bloodline to ensure our purity. It is merely unfortunate that the late Lord Wen only had one son and no capable daughters to succeed him."

Wen Ruohan slapped his hand against the table, the crash reverberating loudly through the sterile silence of an otherwise lively audience chamber.

"Enough. As the situation is currently, my relations with Lan Qiren are... on hold... till after I acquire my child from that woman. There will be no further discussions on this."

His tone left little room for argument as he commanded the situation to an end. His sorry-excuse for a father gave him a look, one-part disappointed and another part pitying, before he swept out of the room in his grandoise red and white robes.

Foolish.

One day, A'Ren will understand and they can put this foolishenss behind them. He can't be so naive as to believe that the world would bend and allow for them to be together and retain their stations without some compromises. And he, as the one with more experience and capability and willingness to endure those expectations so that he wouldn't have to, simply made the decision for them.

A'Ren was being foolish.

But Wen Ruohan would forgive him. It's not like he did not expect the ire that was aimed at him.

The child will be born and then he will divorce his wife and he can be together with A'Ren. There will be no issue.

He'd just have to be patient.

And so, one year later, he was married. A month followed and he was blessed with the news of his wife's pregnancy. The year that followed had all of the cultivation world waiting with abated breath for the news of the new Wen child. He had even been so nice as to send an invitation to the Cloud Recesses to Lan Qiren to meet his future step-son.

Ignored. Just like all his other letters.

Fine. It's not like Wen Ruohan was not unused to Qingheng-Jun's meddling in their affairs, and throwing away the letters he's sent to A'Ren. He could wait and extend a personal invite once his schedule cleared.

The child was born, and the Lord Wen grinned as he was thankfully given a strong son. Yet, the elders insisted he have another ready. A spare, just in case anything were to happen to the current one. Wen Ruohan understood the purposes and fulfilled his marriage roles dutifully.

Then it became two years, then three, then four, then five, six, seven

His eldest was already learning to form a core and Wen Ruohan had yet to divorce his wife, even if the paper sat neatly in one of his drawers, ready to be filled and signed and handed to the court officials within the hour.

It was... peaceful. Though Wen Ruohan couldn't claim to love his wife as he did- does A'Ren, there was no doubt he was fond of her company and what she had done for him.

There was very few in the clan whom held his trust and respect, and whom he went to for counsel. He couldn't just ruin her reputation by divorcing her and sending her back to her maiden family. Even the most amicable of separations had been subjected to crude gossip, always finding a fault in one person or the other. With his reputation, though, the blame would fall entirely on her shoulders and where would that leave her? Disgraced and shamed.

He was realistic. There was no real, pressing need to divorce her and cause a rift between them, especially when his sons still tightly clung to their mother like they were still young toddlers in their crib.

He could take A'Ren as his husband. True, he'd legally be of lower station than his wife as his second spouse, but Wen Ruohan would have him treated as if he were the first and would force anyone who dared to say, think, or do otherwise into submission.

When he proposed the idea over a cup of wine with his wife, she hesitated, then quietly proposed that he did not go through with it.

"Why?"

"Think clearly, Husband. Second Master Lan had already declared his position on the matter, and by retracting your earlier proposal to marry him after divorcing me, which I must remind you you have yet to do, will only further strain your relationship."

Wen Ruohan mulled over the idea, the clear wine swirling gently in his cup as he looked over the balcony that gave him a clear view of the Nightless City.

He used to roam those streets with A'Ren at his side. Now he only ever does so to instruct Wen Xu of the sect's various properties.

"Seven years is rather long," he muttered at last as he drank his wine. The bittersweet liquid burning his throat as he swallowed, and warmed his belly. "I am not fond of his absence, and... Well, if I have to hear another of Qingheng-Jun's ramblings of introducing him to some suitor, I may go mad and stab the man right then and there."

"Qingheng-Jun has been spouting that nonsense for years and not once has he made the serious effort to espouse his brother to anyone. Do not concern yourself with his rambling." She sighed, blood-red lips pursued slightly as she continued, "And if Lan Qiren was truthful of Lans being unable to love again, then he has no other choice but to marry you, or enter a loveless marriage, or not marry at all."

"He's been doing that last one very well," the Lord Wen said somberly, a slight sneer on his face before he lowered his cup. "He won't even entertain any prospects even if they’ve already arrived at his home. Nor does he deign himself to see me when I go to Gusu."

"Did you expect him to?"

"He used to."

"When he was still your lover."

"He loves me." Wen Ruohan declared with all the certainty of a man who knew the sun would rise tomorrow. "I know he does, and he knows it too. He only needs to stop being so naive and apologize. If he just accepted that he could not provide me a blood-related heir and thus my need for a wife, then we wouldn't have fought."

"...What?" She gasped, eyes wide as she looked at him with disbelief.

He sneered, "If he wasn't so naive and understood the implications of our stations then we would've never fought. You'd think that he, being more worldly than his entire clan, would've understood but instead he threw a fit and demanded we go our own ways. Hopefully he's matured out of those silly notions by now."

She looked at him, a pensive emotion on her face that he hadn't seen since their wedding night, when he told her that his heart would belong solely to the white-robed, golden-brown eyed beauty of the Lan clan.

"Wen Ruohan... did you not know that..." She struggled, seemingly at loss of words. Funny, considering how eloquent she usually is.

"Did I not know what?"

"Second Master Lan, he... Did you not know he..." She paused, sighed, then recollected herself.

"Do you remember when the Lans went on a night hunt to the ruins in the east?"

"Yes... A'Ren said that he had been interested in investigating something in the area. An artifact of the old Xie Lian empire, if I remember correctly." Wen Ruohan mused as he recalled that conversation of many years ago. "I never did learn what happened on that hunt, since his return was also the day I informed him of our engagement."

"Did you know what that artifact was?"

"Some love artifact or something similar. I supposed he was interested in it because of the romance poetry he'd been reading. He didn't talk about it much."

"The artifact that he went looking for was one which allowed two people of the same sex to have a child together. A child that would carry the same blood as its parents."

Liar. Lies.

"How'd you know this?"

"My cousin married a Lan and he told her of it. It was quite the controversy when the elders and Qingheng-Jun learned of the artifact's existence. He was sent into seclusion for punishment for two years."

...

"They told me he was too heartbroken to see me. His asshole brother told me that he never wanted to see me again."

"... You had too much to drink. I think its time you went to sleep, Lord Wen. Quickly, before you lose your temper."

The floor cracked beneath his feet as he stood. He felt rage fuel his being as he stalked to the balcony, hand on his sword and ready to take flight and have a word with his the Sect Leader Lan.

"Control yourself!"

The scarlet sun robed cultivator glared at the moonlit sky as he drew his sword, its scarlet gleam reflecting a bloody glow against his visage as Qi swirled around his silhouette.

"I'm just going to have a talk with him."

"Wen Ruohan!"

#mdzs #RuoRen #fic #might become a series if Harley keeps egging me on #wen ruohan #lan qiren #madam wen #QHJ’s brother instincts #response fic #anon who started this RuoRen mess- you hurt me #submission

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mypassionfortrash · 5 years

Text

Nothing Serious (Parts 7 & 8)

SUMMARY: You and Roger decide to make a go of it and behave ‘like a normal couple’ in the wake of The Sun running a damning exposé on Roger’s love life and his divorce – and your disastrous attempts at dating other people. He also drunkenly makes you an offer you find hard to refuse.

Roger Taylor x Reader; Modern AU; Strictly 18+

💫 CATCH UP HERE! 💫

TAGS: @jennyggggrrr; @sarahgurl09; @sunshine112; @biscuit-barrel; @sitonmyhot-seatoflove; @jhoemazzellhoe; @justgivemethekeys; @qweenly; @picturepowderinabottle

NOTES: Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback on this; I honestly didn’t think anyone still gave a shit about my fics anymore, so I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Again, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!

[Part 7]

The morning after that awful date, you and Roger decided to – in his words – “Make a go of it.”

This meant him sleeping over at your place every other night. According to Roger, this was to avoid rousing suspicions. But actually, Roger just loved being around you.

Your habit of neglecting your dishwashing duties didn’t bother him. And you couldn’t care less that he was more of a morning person than you; you enjoyed lying in bed, listening to him singing Taylor Swift in the shower. His day didn’t start until his bandmates kicked into action, so with time to spare, he always made you breakfast in bed, and packed you lunches to take to work. He insisted. When he learned that you always skipped breakfast, he was dismayed. This became a habit for him, looking after you. Mornings, evenings, everything, ran like clockwork.

Even sex.

That promise Roger made in Ibiza about teaching you a thing or two? That was long gone. Tamed and domesticated, he loved missionary and whispering sweet nothings in your ear while he pumped you full of baby batter on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays – with double helpings on Saturdays. And neither of you minded.

What your sex life lacked in kink and depravity, it made up for in a kind of intimacy that you doubted you’d find elsewhere.

So that was love. Finally.

A fortnight on from the Night of Terrible Dates, a sunny Sunday morning, Roger slid out of bed. He fumbled in the dull orange glow, tugging on a pair of jeans and a tattered t-shirt; he didn’t bother to comb his hair. It didn’t matter. He was only going to the end of the street to bring you your Sunday coffee. A proper one.

Roger gently kissed your forehead and left you in a sweaty heap in bed.

You shot him a dumb, delirious smile, watching him leave and trying to psyche yourself up for the notion of getting out of bed. You only knew one move in the bedroom, but you sure knew how to tucker yourself out, you huffed to yourself.

You got up, slipping on one of Roger’s t-shirts. Then you padded through to the bathroom. Your makeup from the night before had burrowed into caked lines around your eyes, and your foundation flaked around your nose. Drawing your cheeks up into a measly grin, you assessed the damage. And wondered how Roger put up with seeing your ugly mug in the morning.

You had no idea how he did it.

You got a bit carried away, though, feeling the last of Roger’s seed dribble down your thigh. Staring down at the offending swimmers in disgust, you fumbled for some loo roll to dispose of them once and for all.

Above the flush of the toilet, you heard the door slam. Roger was home. And it made your heart race. Kind of like the way dogs get excited to see their owners when they come home from work. You laughed at the thought.

“Hey, Roger… Am I a pug or a lab?” you asked, watching as he slipped off his shoes.

“Huh?” he asked, turning around. He looked gormless, peering at you through his glasses with his mouth hanging open.

“I was thinking,” you began, throwing your arms around him, almost sending your coffees flying, “About how excited I get when you come home. I’m like a dog that gets all hyper over seeing its owner.”

“Right?” he asked, wondering where this was going.

“So I was wondering whether I’m a pug or a labrador. What do you think?”

He narrowed his eyes, a goofy smirk spreading over his lips. “I think you’re more of a terrier. Small and yappy.”

“Well, in that case,” you pouted, crossing your arms. “You’re a chihuahua.”

“Very funny. We all know I’m more cat than dog,” he quipped. When he safely managed to remove you from him, avoiding any spills, he made his way into the living room and slapped a newspaper down on the coffee table.

The bold, red stripe at the top made your heartbeat accelerate. “What are you buying that muck for?”

“Brian texted me this morning. Dom’s told them everything. That Charlotte girl’s sold her story. And they have eyewitness accounts of how I forced a crying girl out of the toilets in a French restaurant two weeks ago.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, folding your arms and trying not to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“All of it,” you said. “This is just our luck, isn’t it? The girls at work are constantly pestering me for information about you and I don’t even know what to tell them anymore. They know more about us than we know about each other.”

“How are we supposed to be a normal couple if this is going to keep happening?”

And then a lightbulb dinged above your head. Your eyes lit up as you threw yourself on to Roger’s lap. “Why don’t we do that?”

“Do what?” Roger asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Be a normal couple. Keep our noses clean. Do everything normal couples do.”

Roger tucked strands of your hair behind your ear as a smile broke across his face again. “How do you propose we do that?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. See our friends. And if they talk, they talk. We need to be careful about what we say, though. But it might go well for us.”

Roger nodded, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “This could definitely work. But if we fuck up, they’ll never stop hounding us.”

“It’ll die down soon, though, won’t it?”

“I wouldn’t be so certain. Remember, I’m going to Montreux at the end of the month. So, you’re on your own if anything goes wrong.”

Feeling defeated, you sighed. That had slipped your mind. He’d be gone for two months. Maybe even more if arguments got the better of his bandmates.

Roger stroked the base of your back. “I’m only thinking about you,” he said, his baby blue eyes turning more and more watery. “I want you to be safe and for no one to bother you. And if anything else got out, how are you going to take it?”

You cupped Roger’s face in your hands. Your noses touched and your bodies pressed together.

“We’re going to need to get your friends on board,” he sighed, twirling strands of your hair around his fingers.

“Do you want to meet them?” you asked.

“It can’t hurt, can it?”

A week later, you and Roger sat in his Panamera outside your building. It looked so out of place parked on a rammed residential street; it belonged outside a mansion or an opulent Notting Hill townhouse. You were dressed to the nines, poised for Roger to meet all of your coupled off and drowse-inducingly dull friends. He vibrated with nervous energy, but that much you could deduce from how he talked.

“Now tell me again what I’m not supposed to say to Cassie?”

“Don’t crack dead baby jokes in front of her. I, personally love them. But her and whatshisface have been trying for over a year and they’re looking at IVF now, which is going to wipe them out. She’s had like three miscarriages.”

“Got it,” Roger nodded, chewing his lip. “So is there anyone going tonight that’s actually… you know… fun? Do they have a sense of humour?”

You shook your head, loathe to admit that these people were your friends. You collected them back when they were much more adventurous; in high school when the only things that bothered you were which Charlie body spray your mum was going to buy you that week, or how you were going to score a packet of cigs on your lunch break. Now they were all paired off with kids. Some of them dropped out of uni when they met ‘the one.’ Some of them didn’t even make it to uni. “None of them are particularly funny. Their humour got dumped out of their uteruses.”

“Right,” Roger said, starting the car. “This is going to be a long night.”

“I’ve got a bottle of fizz in the fridge for when we get back. Thought we’d need it.”

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

“What? The mild drink problem or the disdain for boring people?”

“Mild? I’ve seen how much you swallow on a school night.”

“Impress my pals and I’ll swallow more than a bottle of prosecco.”

“You mean, you’re actually going to shove the whole bottle down your neck? Now that, I need to see.”

You and Roger sat side by side as your friends grilled you. It felt like you were on trial. They asked him everything. Why he got divorced. Why he was on Tinder. Why you. And then. The question of your thirteen year age gap came up.

It was Grace. The gossip. She leaned over the table, as far as she could, with eyes bulging out of her head. Her stubby fingers gripped her glass of gin and tonic.

“So, he’s so much older than you,” she guffawed, darting her eyes between you and Roger. “Bet it turns him on.”

Roger’s fingers found their way to your lap, and tangled with your own, locking your hands together. “Actually,” Roger began, glancing at you, “I think she’s lovely. She could be twenty-four or eighty-four and I’d still adore her.” When he finished that sentence, he looked so proud of himself – flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. He gave your hand another squeeze.

But that wasn’t the answer Grace the Gossip was looking for. “Oh, come on! I’ve heard you like shagging younger women.” Then she turned her attention to you, jabbing her finger at you. “And don’t pretend you don’t like him because he’s famous and rich.”

“What are you?” Roger asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re starting to sound like one of those rats working for the red-tops. Are you?”

“Come on, that’s enough. Both of you,” Jade said, trying to mediate.

“No, I want to hear Grace’s answer, actually,” you piped up. You and Roger exchanged smug looks, while Grace rolled her eyes.

She sighed. “I’m curious. There are plenty of men out there your age. And there are plenty of girls out there Roger’s age. Thirteen years is a lot.”

You sensed Roger slumping in his chair beside you; you felt his disappointment.

“I don’t fucking know, Geraldine–”

“It’s Grace, actually.”

“I don’t give a fuck. We’re both bloody adults and as far as I’m concerned, your mate’s more mature than most people my age.” He looked at you, visibly annoyed. “Are we done here, can we go home?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you huffed, looking around at your friends. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves, by the way. All of you. You’re all coupled up and you constantly tell me that I should be too. And now I am–”

“It’s not that,” Lily – the mouthpiece – interrupted. “It’s him.”

“And that you met him on Tinder,” Jade added.

You regained your composure, painfully aware that your friends were beyond seeing sense. “And now that I am,” you seethed, “You don’t have it in you to be happy for me.”

“We are,” Cassie, the doormat, cooed.

“Is it because I’m not stupid enough to get myself pregnant within two weeks of meeting someone new?” you asked, glaring at Grace. “Or that I haven’t had to give up my career for a man?” you continued, shooting daggers at Cassie. “Or perhaps it’s because my boyfriend isn’t a fucking deadbeat?” you concluded, directing that remark at Lily and Jade.

Your friends looked at each other in stunned silence.

Lily slapped her hand on her husband’s. “He’s not a deadbeat. I mean he’s quiet, but at least I know when he gets bored, he’s sensible enough not to trade me in for a younger model.”

Cassie was next to refute your claim: “I quit my job by choice. He got a better job and he supports us both. I’m happy.”

James, her husband, nodded.

“Well, if you’d like to keep lying to yourselves, then I’m sorry but I’m out of here. I don’t have the patience for this,” you announced, throwing down you and Roger’s share of the bill, plus a tip. You got to your feet, stretching out your hand which Roger gladly took. “We’re going home.” You cast an eye over the stunned table. “And if any of you want to apologise, remember what you did wrong before you go bashing us. We’re happy. This is the happiest I’ve ever been. And if you were any kind of friends, you’d support that.”

Your friends said nothing as you and Roger stormed out of the restaurant at breakneck speed. But when the pair of you got to the front door, Roger mumbled something, staring straight on ahead.

You didn’t quite catch it, so you leaned in closer to him. “What was that, Roggie?”

“You were amazing,” he repeated with a faint simper on his lips.

You gave his hand another fleeting squeeze, feeling a swell of pride in your chest. “So were you.”

When you were safely inside Roger’s car, you both sank with relief. “That was a nightmare, wasn’t it?” Roger said.

“Yup.”

“Suppose that’ll end up in The Sun?”

You turned in your seat to face him, wearing a serious expression. “Hope not.”

“You never know who to trust,” he warned, speeding off in the direction of home.

He didn’t say much for the rest of the journey back. Choosing to drown out the thought of your horrible evening, he turned his playlist up. The one he made for you. And belted no less than five love songs at you on the journey.

It earned a few cautious laughs from you, too. But the seed of doubt grew in your mind. What if you couldn’t trust your friends anymore?

The pensive silence stuck around like a bad smell well until you arrived home. You stood in the hall with your back to Roger as he shuffled your coat off your body and hung it up.

Then his arms snaked around your waist, his chin propped on your shoulder. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Kitten. Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

You exhaled, turning towards him. Your eyes had gone glassy and your lips curved into a frown. “It’s been a bad night, hasn’t it?” you lamented.

“It’s not gone that badly,” Roger reasoned.

“Yeah, but what if they hate me now?”

“They can’t possibly hate you.”

“Why?”

“Because… it’s…” Roger paused, shrugging, “Illegal?”

You rolled your eyes and stormed into the kitchen in search of something to take the edge off. “That’s the best you can do?” you asked opening the fridge and plucking out the bottle.

“You know what I mean,” Roger said, trailing behind you. “You’re lovely. And an amazing friend. They should be lucky to have you. And if they can’t see that, then I’m sorry, but they were never your friends to begin with.”

You grimaced, slapping the bottle down on the countertop. A deluge of sadness dropped on to your body like a lead balloon. “I’m twenty-four and I’m back at square one when it comes to friends,” you squeaked, leaning against the counter. The tears weren’t far off; you could feel the warmth burning your eyes. Not wanting Roger to see you in this state again, you bowed your head. Of course, it made the tears fall faster. “This is fucking awful.”

“Hey,” he said in a low, warm voice. “You’ve still got years to meet new people. And makeup with everyone else. You’ve got me. And Freddie was saying the other day, he’d love to meet you. He knows a few characters. You’re only twenty-four. It doesn’t matter.”

But it did.

Roger wrapped his arms around you and leaned his head against your shoulder. “It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure they’ll come round.”

Your whole body shook with grief as Roger held you close. “It feels like it is.”

The following day, you woke up to the sound of the intercom ripping through your empty flat. Your eyes shot open as you turned over, clawing at the empty space in your bed in search of Roger.

You heaved yourself on to your feet and padded through to the door, picking up the receiver. “Hello?” you spat.

“Hello, my love,” a sort of familiar voice beamed. “Is that Roger’s lovely girlfriend there?”

Your stomach sank. Surely Roger wasn’t behind all of this?

“Well, is it?” he pressed.

“Uh, yeah. Come on up.” You smacked the receiver down and sped through to your bedroom, slipping into more modest attire. With any luck, you thought, you might be able to brush your teeth before your guest arrived. But you were wrong.

Three loud knocks boomed into your home as you pulled on one of Roger’s shirts, earning a pained sigh from you.

And then another three while you hurried back to answer the door.

“Alright, alright! Hold your bloody horses,” you hissed. When you flung open the door, you found Freddie standing in the hall. He looked inconspicuous in his leather jacket and ripped up jeans, aside from the bottle of Moët he clutched. “Christ, it’s ten in the morning,” you remarked.

“I know,” he grinned, looking pleased with himself. “Aren’t you going to let me in, dear? This bottle’s getting warm and we can’t have that!”

You shuffled aside, allowing Freddie to barge in. “Make yourself at home,” you hummed, throwing your arm out in the general direction of your humble abode.

Freddie sashayed through to the kitchen like a wrecking ball through your lazy Sunday morning. “Roger says you were very down last night.”

“Oh, did he now,” you shrugged, following him. “Suppose he sent you here to make me feel better, then?”

He threw himself into a chair at your kitchen table. “No,” he began, popping open the champagne. “I’m here to talk to you about planning a party, my dear.” He held up the bottle, silently asking for glasses.

“A party?” You threw open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice; you couldn’t stomach straight champagne this early in the morning. “What kind of party?”

“Oh, I love mimosas,” he smirked. “Get some glasses and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Already ahead of you.” You opened the cupboard where all the glasses went to die and pulled out two mismatched flutes. You slid them across the table towards Freddie – along with the orange juice – and he got pouring the drinks.

“Well,” he began, placing your glass in front of you. “I’m sure you know, it’s Roger’s birthday next week?” It was more of a question than an explanation.

You nodded in response.

“Well, I thought it might be a nice idea, as one of Roger’s best friends, and you, as Roger’s very beautiful lady friend, to organise a party for him. It’d be nice to celebrate, and it’d be lovely for you to meet everyone. How does that sound?” Freddie asked with a manic look in his eyes.

You knocked back your mimosa in one swift gulp and sighed. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

Freddie excitedly clapped his hands together. “Excellent! I was hoping we could have it at my house. I have a few ideas for the cake, too! And invites! Yes, I’ve drawn these up,” Freddie rambled, scooting over towards you and whipping out his phone to show you some crisp, white invites with gold borders and greenery around the edges. “What do you think?”

“They’re beautiful!” you smiled. “I’m not sure they’re very Roger, though.”

A mischievous smirk emerged from beneath his moustache. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s make it filthy.”

[Part 8]

“I don’t see why we can’t stay at home and celebrate with a take away,” Roger grumbled, staring out of the window of the car.

“I thought it’d be nice to get a bite to eat somewhere nice,” you explained, brushing your fingers against his thigh.

The sweltering July evening seemed never-ending and the sun still hung high, even though the clock approached nine.

It was weather for light linen shirts and cropped jeans and sunglasses, hair that smelled like the beach and tanned skin on display. It suited Roger down to a tee, you thought, as your eyes wandered. He scratched at the undersides of his arms, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Then, slipping his hand beneath his shirt collar, he sighed as he rubbed his aching shoulders. “But I love your cooking.”

“Would it stun you to know that I’m sick of cooking?”

Roger’s lips curled into a smile as he shook his head. “But it’s my birthday. It’s as good as steak and blowjob day.”

“Well, you can eat some nice steak tonight and I’ll give you a blowie later. How does that sound?”

“Oh, alright!”

The pair of you went back to absentmindedly staring out the windows, every now and again, reaching across the seat to touch hands. The nerves in your stomach brewed, wondering what he would make of the party you and Freddie planned.

“Hang on?” Roger said, edging forward in his seat as he peered out the window. “Where are we going again?”

“For dinner, Roggie,” you stated. “Why?”

“Why are we going to Freddie’s?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Fred recently.”

“And what of it?”

“You’ve been planning something, haven’t you?” Roger asked, his voice streaked with giddiness.

“No!”

“Why are we pulling up in front of Fred’s house then?”

“We’re going to pop in and see him so he can wish you a happy birthday.”

“Oh great!” Roger tutted mockingly. “That’s half the night wasted then. No blowjobs for me.”

“Don’t be like that,” you scolded. You reached into your bag and handed the fare to the driver, then you both stepped out on to the street outside Garden Lodge.

“This better be quick! I’m fucking starving,” Roger warned, rubbing his tummy.

You knew how grumpy he could be when he was in the throes of hunger and you hoped the catering and free booze would be enough to sustain him through the night. But there was one thing you were certain of: Roger loved a good party. “Come on,” you urged, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the large wooden door that insulated the mansion within. You jabbed your finger against the intercom. “Fred? We’re here!”

Fred’s laughter came over the intercom, and then he finally spoke. “Come in, darlings!”

You and Roger exchanged puzzled looks at how jovial he sounded, but then you shrugged and pushed open the gate.

“SURPRISE!”

The garden was packed with anyone who was anyone in the music business. Producers, musicians, even actors and actresses, and models, too. They had all assembled to celebrate Roger’s birthday. You were certain Roger hadn’t even met half of the guests – most of them looked like Freddie’s circle.

Roger laughed nervously as he took in the sight of the garden, decked out with strings of twinkling gold lights and picnic benches. And then, his face settled into a look of wonder, eyeing the waitresses in knee high boots and leather bikinis, doling out canapés. One tall and stony looking blonde thrust flutes of champagne into your hands, and a friendlier flame-haired floozy moseyed up to you and Roger, popping tiny cherry pies into your mouths. “Good?” she purred, relishing how flustered Roger became.

Roger mumbled enthusiastically, catching crumbs that tumbled from his mouth. He had turned a delightful shade of pink as he took in his surroundings. He shuffled up the garden path towards a pair of oversized inflatable legs, spread eagled. Between them, in lieu of the female anatomy, was the door to Freddie’s house. Roger marvelled at them, open mouthed.

From the crowd, ever the perfect hostess, Freddie emerged with a cake. You and him had spent days in bakeries all over London, sampling their wares. But you had finally decided on one. Two glorious mounds of chocolate cake, moulded into an ample bosom, complete with a set of erect, rosebud nipples. The number 38 blazed away beside it. The throng surrounding Roger erupted into a bout of ‘happy birthday.’

Roger looked at you, bewildered and wondering what part you played in this, but you nodded towards his cake.

Roger was always the life and soul of the party, and it didn’t take him long to bust a few moves that you feared might seriously injure him. After all, 38 was two years shy of forty. And that would be really old.

You admired him from one of the picnic benches, as you drained another glass of champagne. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and you felt completely at home and relaxed on the sidelines. Until Freddie burst into view, dragging none other than Elton John with him.

“My dear, there’s someone I need you to meet!” he beamed, throwing a rather drunk Elton down opposite you. “This is Elton!”

Elton waved and nodded, giving you a quiet, “Hi.”

“Elton, this is Roger’s girlfriend, isn’t she a peach?”

“She’s lovely, yeah!”

“I’m going to leave you two to get acquainted,” Freddie cooed, wandering off to pester someone else.

Unsure of what to say to Elton, you searched your brain for something, anything, to make inroads into a conversation with him. “So,” you began, dragging out that vowel. “How do you know Fred?”

“Me and Fred go way back! All the way to the nineties, would you believe? Back when I was practically bald. You probably don’t remember that, though,” he slurred. “How old are you again?”

“Twenty-four,” you mumbled.

Elton’s eyes bulged. “I knew Roger liked them young, but you’re half his bloody age! I heard you met on Tinder, too? Bold move on Roger’s part!”

“Yeah, he was telling me about some of the experiences he’d had before he met me,” you laughed. “Must’ve been desperate. Hence why he set the bar this low.”

“Oh not at all,” Elton said, flapping his hands. “It’s nice to see him with a girl who doesn’t look like she’s in it for the money. God knows, that’s all Roger’s got going for him.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know about that.” You glanced over at Freddie and Roger, who were huddled in a corner of the garden, blathering away at each other like a pair of gossiping old biddies. You loved the way Roger laughed with his entire body when Freddie presumably told him a dirty joke and the way Freddie’s eyes bulged when he embellished his stories with theatrical action. “He’s kind and does everything he can to drag me out of my shell. And he doesn’t seem to mind that my friends hate him or that the world feels like we shouldn’t be together. He’s always so positive. I love that.”

“So you’re smitten, then?” Elton said, leaning in. “And you’re serious?”

Your cheeks burned as an awkward smile cracked over your features. “I think so,” you said, nodding with youthful enthusiasm.

“Well, you’re absolutely lovely,” Elton said, grabbing your hands and speaking to you with the wisdom of an old babushka. “I hope this works. Because you clearly make each other happy. And don’t let anyone or anything, take that away from you. Fred and I know what it’s like, having everyone out to get you.”

On the other side of the garden, Roger was busy gushing to Freddie about his party. He had already sunk a bottle of champagne all to himself, and, having loosened up, he was prepared to tell anyone who would listen how glad he was to be spending his thirty-eighth birthday, surrounded ‘by people he cared about.’

“This is so different from last year,” he smiled, looking out at the partygoers. “And it’s the first birthday in a while that I’ve actually been happy. Remember how Dom and I used argue at these things?” He turned to Freddie, looking bleary eyed. “I love her, Fred. I fucking love her.”

“I know you do,” Freddie said, linking his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “This was all her idea, you know? The legs and everything. I think she knows you better than I do!”

He shook his head, wearing a cute, dumb expression. “I think she gets me. And to think she thought she wouldn’t be enough for me.”

“Nonsense!” Freddie exclaimed, slapping Roger’s arm in a ‘fuck off’ kind of way. “Why ever would that beautiful thing think that?!”

“She was nervous because she’d never really seriously dated anyone before. And then I went and told her how many women I’d slept with. And she got cold feet.”

“Did you tell her how many men you’ve shagged too?”

“Fuck off,” Roger said bashfully. “I mean it, though. I could definitely see myself really making a go of it with her.”

“She loves you very much,” Freddie explained, bolstering his friend. “She told me you make her a nice breakfast every day before she goes to work and that you have her lunch packed for her. Sounds like you bloody well do everything for her. Spoilt little thing.”

“I just worry about her,” Roger admitted, crossing his arms. “Sometimes, when you look at someone, do you ever see that tiny flicker of sadness there in their eyes? And then you promise yourself, you’ll never allow it to really get a grip on them? Because I see that all the time. I want to look after her. I never ever felt that way about Dominique.”

Freddie glanced at his best friend. “You did all those years ago. I remember you used to make any excuse to see her. Hell, you even sprawled yourself across her desk in Richard’s office one Monday morning, a big fucking rose between your teeth.”

“But this is different.”

“How?”

“I thought I wanted sex and filth and something to take my mind off the whole bloody thing. All that excitement you get when you first meet someone and you fall for them. But I don’t. I don’t have that with her,” he slurred, gluing his eyes to you and only you.

“What do you have? A sore arse? I bet she’s good with a strap.”

“No.” Roger glared at Freddie. “I have this overwhelming need to protect her, like she’s the most precious thing I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Does she know that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well you should tell her before you go to Montreux.”

Roger’s eyes widened. “Fuck. That’s soon, isn’t it? Why – has she told you anything?”

Freddie shrugged. “It’s not really my place to say.”

“But she did tell you something…”

“Yes and no.”

“What is it then?”

“I think she’s worried it might be a bit too soon for you to be apart.”

“And she told you that, did she?” he asked with a pout.

“Not in so many words. But yes.”

“Do you think I should invite her out?” he asked, turning his head to look at Freddie again. “To Montreux?”

Freddie’s eyes widened as soon as he heard Roger’s plan. “That’s a bloody wonderful idea! I’m planning on bringing my new man, Jim out with me. He could probably do with the company when I’m holed up in the studio with you.”

“You think so?” Roger asked, patting his hand on Freddie’s shoulder.

“I think you should go and ask her now!”

Roger stood up straight and puffed out his chest like a great, brave emperor penguin, ready to journey across a continent. “I think I will!”

“Go get her, tiger!” Freddie called, sending all eyes at the party on to Roger as he staggered up the garden.

You were still deep in conversation with Elton, but silence fell as Roger approached.

“Does he look drunk to you?” Elton asked.

“He looks fucking wasted.”

Roger wore that dreamy look in his eye that could make you do anything, even if he was three sheets to the wind. When he arrived at the table, he almost fell over as he leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“Hello, birthday boy!” you cooed. “I see you’re having a good night!”

“Elton, my man!” Roger exclaimed making finger guns at him. “I’m gonna need some alone time with my woman. Can I steal her away?” he slurred.

“Excuse me?” you blinked. “Your woman?”

Roger flung himself down beside you and put his arm around you. “Sorry. What I meant to say is, I’d like some alone time with this absolutely delectable creature, where I shall seek to woo her with my potent, sexual allure,” he elaborated, dragging his palm down his exposed torso.

You gave Roger a glare that told him he was done for, and, not wanting to attract further attention, took his hand. You led him up between the pair of giant inflatable legs, through the vagina, and into Freddie’s kitchen. Much to your annoyance, there was a crowd of kitchen dwellers dotted around the room, so you continued your journey, further into Freddie’s not-so-humble abode. “Come on,” you said, pulling Roger up the spiral staircase in the hall. “There’s bound to be a room up here for us.”

“Oh, we’re going upstairs,” he purred, giving his eyebrows a knowing wiggle. “I know what that means.”

You continued to lead him by the hand through the tastefully decorated hallway, until you reached what Freddie liked to call the ‘Pink Room.’ You and Roger entered and stood in silence in the middle of the room, gawking at each other.

Roger obviously found the situation hilarious as he searched for something to focus on to take his mind off the fit of giggles that simmered away under his dishevelled exterior. His shoulders bobbed every now and again when a small laugh escaped.

“What’s so funny, Roggie?”

“It’s nothing, sorry.”

You crossed your arms and tilted your head, gauging how drunk your boyfriend was. “It’s something.”

“No, I’m thinking about how we’re gonna shag in Fred’s house.”

“We’re not going to shag in Freddie’s house, Roggie. At least not until you’ve sobered up and told me what you wanted to tell me in the garden.”

Roger’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as soon as he remembered why he wanted to get you alone. Then he nodded. He shuffled his feet as he looked at the floor to pluck the words out of his champagne-addled brain. “Fred and I were talking,” he began.

“Uh huh?” you urged him on, crossing your arms.

“And we were talking…” He continued, his eyes rolling up in his head as he still wore that boyish, naughty expression.

“You were talking and…”

“Well, all the other guys are bringing their girlfriends, and Freddie’s got his new boyfriend and I was wondering, if…”

Unable to contain your annoyance for Roger’s penchant for trailing off mid sentence, you erupted: “For goodness sake, Roger, spit it out!”

Roger puffed out his cheeks at your sudden outburst and exhaled. “Do you want to come to Montreux with us?”

Roger’s proposal came as such a shock to you that you had to stumble around to find a place to sit. Eventually, you found a dusty pink chaise longue that overlooked the garden and flopped on top of it. “Jesus,” you muttered.

Roger dropped to his knees and shuffled over to you, pouting and silently attempting to convince you that this was a good idea for both of you.

“How long do you want me out there for?”

“However long you’d like. Montreux’s really beautiful. We could maybe even stay there?” Roger begged, clasping your hand in his. Shimmering gold flecks from the lights in the garden danced in his tired eyes. “I’d love it if you came with me.”

“It’s a big ask,” you sighed, leaning your forehead against his. “I’ve got work to think about. I can’t just quit. I don’t want to be like my friends.”

“I’ll look after you, though. And you’ve got all of us. We’re a family.”

“I don’t know, Roger,” you admitted. “I think I’m gonna need some time to think about this. I can’t get up and leave. It’s not that easy.”

Roger’s entire body deflated right in front of you, his disappointment palpable as he slouched. “Take as long as you need, Kitten,” he said. His tone became measured and calm now; the sparkle and optimism had disappeared. “Even if you’re able to come out for a day or two, it’d be better than nothing. I’m gonna miss looking after you when I’m out there.”

“I’ll let you know how I feel in the morning. More importantly, how are you feeling?”

“I’m a bit drunk,” Roger spluttered. “But I’ve enjoyed myself.”

“You’ve had a good birthday?”

He nodded with enthusiasm. “Best birthday in years. And I’ve got you to thank for that,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You make me so fucking happy.”

The pair of you scrambled to your feet, your arms enveloping his body. Your head rested against his chest, so close you could hear his heart racing and his lungs slowly sucking in air as you danced together in the window of the Pink Room, and gazed down at the party below. “I love you, Roggie,” you whispered, burying your nose against his shirt to inhale his scent.

“I love you too, Kitten.”

“How about we head home? Hm?” you asked looking up at him.

He swept the hair out of your face with a contented, heavy lidded smile. “That’s a fantastic idea,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ll even bring you a nice breakfast in bed to thank you for this in the morning.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

The following morning, you felt the bed dip beside you and the soft, warm sound of Roger’s voice. Bliss. Turning on to your back, you stretched letting all the tensed muscles in your body unfurl and your bones crack back into place with a groan. “Morning, Roggie,” you purred with your eyes still closed.

“Morning, Kitten,” he said.

You could see the smile behind his words inside your mind. And you could also smell bacon. Your eyes flicked open to find him wafting a bacon roll right under your nose.

“Knew that would wake you up in no time,” he grinned, pulling the duvet over both of your bodies. “I’ve made you some tea, too.”

You grabbed the cup from Roger’s hands and took a swig like it was the holy grail. Your mouth was so dry from all the alcohol the night before that you almost finished the cup in one big gulp. “Thank you,” you sighed, sitting the cup down on your nightstand. Then you went back to the most important meal of the day.

Roger took small bites of his own, in between stroking your hair and admiring you in the golden rays cracking through the blinds. “Did you sleep well, Kitten?” he asked.

You gave a contented groan. “Like a log – how about you?” you asked, curling yourself against his body. “Hungover?”

“No,” he mused, “I feel good.”

“You look tired.”

“I am a bit, but that’s nothing a little siesta can’t fix,” he sighed.

But there was something off. You could tell Roger was holding something back; his body was tense and he had a habit of moving his lips to start a sentence with no sound coming from them when he was too apprehensive about asking you something. Then you remembered his proposition from the night before.

“About last night–” you both began in unison.

“You first,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically coy.

“No, no… you asked the question.”

Roger sucked his lips together, and stayed silent for a moment. Then the lightbulb pinged above his head. “I know I asked you to come over to Montreux, but I don’t want you to feel any pressure to go. You’ve got a life here. You can’t abandon that. I was a bit drunk and over excited.”

“It’s fine,” you said, shaking your head. “I need to see how many holidays I can realistically take off work this summer.”

Roger nodded. “Ok. I’m not going to pester you about it, have a think. It might do you the world of good to go out there.”

You gave a haughty laugh, still feeling raw from the invasion of your privacy back in Ibiza. “What like it did when we spent that weekend at the villa?” you asked.

Roger’s features fell. “I’m trying to do what’s best for us. Montreux’s not like Ibiza at all. Fuck, no one even knows where Montreux is. No one pesters us there. Not even Freddie.” He sounded hurt. “Please think about it.”

And then your phone rang. Convenient timing, if only to prevent an argument. You fumbled around on your nightstand for your phone and looked at the screen. It was Jade. “What the fuck does she want?” you mumbled to yourself.

“Who?” Roger asked, peering over your shoulder. Then he scowled in disgust. “Her?”

“Should I answer it?” you asked, glancing up at Roger.

“It’s up to you.”

You answered the call, putting Jade on speaker for Roger to hear. “What do you want?”

“Please don’t read The Sun today,” Jade said, sounding panicked.

Roger sat upright, looking puzzled.

“Why?” you asked, feeling a pit of dread growing larger and larger with every passing second. “What have they done now?”

“Just don’t read it, please.” She repeated her plea with more desperation. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? What for? What have you done?”

Roger tapped away on his own phone and then showed you the screen. On the homepage of The Sun’s website, there were a series of articles about you and Roger. One about Charlotte and Lewis. Blurry phone photos of Roger leading you out of La Rouvenaz after your date from hell. A photo of Roger’s ex wife, with the headline: “Dominique Taylor: My Side of the Story.” And another headline. “Pals Spill the Beans on Queen Drummer’s New Squeeze.”

By the time you had finished reading everything on the page, you could hear Jade whimpering on the other end of the line.

“You fucking bitch,” Roger hissed. “You snake. How much did they pay you?”

“Please,” Jade cried. “I’m so sorry. They got it out of me without me knowing I–”

“I want to know how much they paid you!”

“Ten grand.”

Too stunned to speak, Roger verbalised exactly what was on the tip of your tongue. “Ten grand? Is that how much your best mate’s worth?”

“If I could come over and explain, I could make things–”

Without saying a word, you hung up. Still in a state of shock, you took Roger’s phone and began at the very top of the page, scanning every single article for opinions on everything from how much you weighed to what you wore. All of your friends had something to say. Some of them even surrendered photos of you from your school days, back when the gang was much more close knit – before life got in the way of your friendships. You were too exhausted to shed tears. Too humiliated to want to set foot in the office again. You turned to Roger, whose eyes had clouded over as he seethed. “Montreux doesn’t sound like such a bad idea after all,” you said.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“I think you’re probably the only person that actually cares about me at this point.”

“I hope I’m worth it.”

Realising what was at stake, you spent the rest of your Sunday preparing yourself for Monday. You drafted your letter of resignation, organised boxes to empty the contents of your desk into, and you had packed a suitcase with enough to get by in Montreux until you found your feet.

The next morning, you and Roger sat in his car outside your office building in silence.

“Just remember, I’m out here,” Roger said quietly, stroking circles above your knee.

You took a series of deep breaths, doubting your ability to march into the office and drop the letter on your boss’ desk. “All I need to do, is give Stephen the letter, clear my desk and then we can go.” You nodded, walking yourself through the perfectly plotted road map in your brain. “What if someone stops me?” you groaned, throwing your head back against the headrest. “I don’t know if I could face the Spanish Inquisition.”

“Just tell them it’s a family emergency and that you don’t want to deal with it right now.”

“But you’re better at these things than I am. You only have to breathe their air and people like you.”

“What do you care if those idiots like you?” he snorted. Then he grabbed your shoulders, ready for another one of his world class pep talks. “You’re never going to see them again. And if they talk to the papers, you’re not going to be in the bloody country to read it. You’re gonna be chilling on a lakeside promenade, with a cocktail in your hand, enjoying night after night of boring missionary sex with me, your adoring and very rich boyfriend. You’re better than that fucking dump behind you and you know it!”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” you reluctantly agreed. Staring down that the carefully typed and labelled letter in your hands, you huffed. “Guess I’m gonna have to do this now, before everyone else arrives.”

“You’ve got…” Roger paused, looking at his watch. “Five minutes, to complete your mission, Agent Kitten. Good luck.”

You chuckled and grabbed the boxes in the footwell.

The walk into your poky marketing agency went well. Your legs managed to function and your head stayed high as you sauntered through the doors one final time. The nerves dissipated as you entered the office, weaving your way through the gigantic fishbowl, looking at all the soulless drones, sitting at their desks, tapping away at their keyboards on the company’s next big brand project. And you knew, in that moment, how much you hated it.

That swell of hatred spurred you on as you stopped by your desk to dump the boxes. Of course, Steph and Cheryl looked up from their computer screens with raised eyebrows.

“What are those for?” Steph asked.

“Nothing,” you spat, turning on your heel towards your boss’ office.

He sat in a glass room at the far end of the main office. He loved to look out on his sea of minions and watch them waste their lives while he collected a vastly overinflated salary that said more about his greed than his talent or work ethic.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you realised his office was empty. You were able to slip inside his glass tank and pop the envelope on his desk, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders once and for all.

Mission accomplished.

Time to clear your desk.

Like a panther on a hunt, you slunk back to your desk undetected, and cleared your personal belongings away, erasing the two years of your life you had spent at this very spot. You removed the photos of your friends from the grey partition boards, and ripped them up. You safely stowed your collection of cacti and succulents in one box. Then you moved on to your drawers; rifling through them for the essentials.

It astounded you how much crap you accumulated in two years. But then, you couldn’t remember the last time you tossed anything out. There were spare packets of star shaped confetti from your first Christmas party, birthday cards, five half empty jars of instant coffee, not to mention a stack of unfinished notebooks and pens in abundance. Knowing where your real priorities lay, you scooped up the bundle of notebooks and pens and dumped them alongside your plants.

You eyed your prized possessions with overwhelming satisfaction. Standing there with your hands on your hips, you realised that you managed this with no resistance from your co-workers. Until Steph lingered beside you.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked, jabbing her finger painfully into your arm. “You’re leaving and you didn’t tell us! Did you get the sack?” she prodded.

“No, it’s an urgent family thing abroad that I need to get to. I don’t now when I’ll be back,” you bumbled, trying to remember the spiel Roger taught you, for use in emergencies.

“Won’t you have time for drinks?” Cheryl piped up, peering over the partition.

“I’m afraid not,” you said, shaking your head in an attempt to sound disappointed. Inside you were elated. “I need to be at the airport in an hour. Flight takes off soon.” And with that, you grabbed your belongings and headed for the door as fast as your legs could carry you.

But then, your boss slipped through, his face falling when he saw the box in your arms. “Where do you think you’re going? Get back to your desk, I haven’t given you permission to leave.”

You barged past him. His mistake for holding to door open for you, you thought. You could still hear him bellowing down the corridor as you headed for the exit. “Fuck you, Stephen!” you roared, throwing up the middle finger behind you.

Roger was waiting for you as you practically ran to his car. He stood, leaning against it. Sunglasses on, sleeves rolled up, pushing his thick, messy mane out of his face. “How’d it go, Kitten?” he asked, taking the box from you and looking inside at your loot.

“It was amazing,” you wheezed, realising how cathartic the experience was for you. “Threw my boss the middle finger as I left. It felt so fucking good. Better than sex. Better than driving one of your cars. I can’t even describe it,” you wittered as Roger put your box in the boot.

He closed it and turned to you, a smile trying to burst from his lips. “I’m really fucking proud of you.”

“So, now we go to the airport?” you asked, pressing your toe into the pavement.

“To the airport,” Roger grinned, getting back into the car.

“I’ve always wondered,” you pondered as the car hurtled down the motorway, “what happens when you leave the car at the airport?”

“I’m not leaving the car at the airport. Some poor intern at the label is going to come and collect it, and they’re going to put it into storage for me for when I make my return. Whenever that’ll be.”

“Right,” you sighed, remembering that you had a flat to empty. “And what about my place?”

“That’s easy. We can get some removal men in when we get to Montreux and they’ll put all your stuff into storage with my car. For when you make your return!” he explained excitedly. “Whenever that’ll be!”

“Fuck. We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” you sighed.

“Yeah!” Roger grinned, his eyebrows peeking out from the rims of his shades. “We really are!”

Just like the first time you and Roger boarded a plane together, your stomach stretched itself tight with apprehension. But that wasn’t to say you didn’t feel like you were making the right choice. Roger made you happy, you thought as he led you across the tarmac towards the small private plane. When you got inside, you realised it was exactly the same one as before and again, you took care not to touch anything, for fear that some other couple had done exactly what you and Roger had done between your trip to Ibiza and now.

You and Roger plonked yourselves down next to each other on the leather sofa as stewardesses flocked to you, offering canapés and flutes of champagne. Something to make the flight to Geneva go in a bit faster.

The plane took off, and the pair of you watched like excited children as clouds shrouded the plane, and then dissipated just as fast, leaving you soaring through the air, high above home and not knowing when you’ll ever return.

“Should we put on some music?” Roger murmured, twirling stands of your hair around his fingers. “Spice things up a bit?”

“What like last time?”

He grinned, looking utterly irresistible with his half-buttoned shirt and his dark sunglasses. “Exactly like last time. But better.”

You watched from the sofa as Roger got to his feet and wandered over to the stereo.

“Taylor Swift?”

“Nah.”

“Springsteen?”

“We always listen to Springsteen.”

“I know,” Roger giggled, waggling his finger in the air. “I’ve got just the song for this occasion.”

You narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to hit play on his phone.

The first few bars of ‘Danger Zone,’ boomed through the speakers, sending you into a fit of giggles. But nothing could prepare you for what came next as Roger moved towards you, swaying every part of his body to the beat.

“What are you doing?” you laughed.

“Just sit back, relax,” Roger said, turning away from you. He batted his hips from side to side, bending over to give you an unrestricted view of his bottom as he wiggled and writhed. “And enjoy the view.”

>>NEXT>>

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #queen

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suicidalcatz · 5 years

Text

DOG DAYS ARE OVER : CHAP 16

Pairing : Jake Kiszka x reader

Genre : College AU

Previous parts : Prologue ; chap 1 ; chap 2 ; chap 3 ; chap 4 ; chap 5 ; chap 6 ; chap 7 ; chap 8 ; chap 9 ; chap 10 ; chap 11 ; chap 12 ; chap 13 ; chap 14 ; chap 15

Masterlist : here

AN : Hi! Sorry I’m a bit late! Is this... the last chapter ? Oh my God. There will be an epilogue, too ! So in this chapter, there’s a misunderstanding and- I can’t tell eheh. Please feel free to tell me what you think about it because I sure had trouble writing this one. Thank you all for the love and support !

Chapter 16 : I do

Sooner than we thought, a consequent amount of work fell on all of us, preventing us from seeing each other. And like that, days went by... and then weeks. January had been a harsh month for everybody. A few teachers were late on their program so we had to learn more, write faster. Meanwhile others just enjoyed watching us suffer and kept giving more homework, letting us witness with horror how it piled up in a corner of our room like an insatiable monster that kept growing and growing. Those were the dark times. It became impossible for us to even have lunch together. Tensions began to rise. Josh was irritable because his singing teacher was a jerk to him. Mandy kept skipping more and more classes, running everywhere in town to find clothes. Jake, completely depressed, looked like a character from Corpse Bride, and not a pretty one. As for me, I was a mix of all of them. Living with Mandy has for the first time proven to have its downsides, as her stress was rubbing off on me, while my annoyance to some of my failed assignments got to her nerves too. The boys were no exception, and we had a perfect example of it during a lecture, when Josh snapped at the teacher after she made a snark comment about his last grade. All heads turned to him, even ours, and with a mix of shame and anger, he took his bag and slammed the door behind himself without a word. In retrospect, it had been so fucking cool, although a bit rude considering he didn't have to talk to her like that even with her sly remark... But the way he just told her off, took his belongings and proudly yet bitterly exited the amphitheater was one of the highlights of this year, goddamn the boy had balls.

One of the things that really helped me get through this horrible period was Greta Van Fleet's album on shuffle on my earphones accompanying me during my days in the workshop. And then one day around 2pm we all received a text from Josh.

« If we don't go drinking tonight I swear I will explode, I'm already having nervous breakdowns every week, I need to get out of this school, let's meet at 8 »

Well, the message couldn't be clearer than that, could it ? And my phone vibrated multiple times when the others replied, showing some « Thank God » and « Please let's » on the screen before I discreetly put it back inside my pocket. It had been the first time we went to the bar as a group, with Sam and Danny. And somehow, because we spent a pleasant night together without coming home too late or too drunk, we simultaneously thought it'd be a good idea to reiterate the experience. At least once a week, sometimes every day, we met at the café, occasionally bringing work with us and helping each other. It was close to our school thus convenient, but still far enough to allow us to take a breath of fresh air and think of something else for a while. Most of the time, it was deserted, the only few patrons that came to drink their coffee being regulars, and we enjoyed the calm, even if we were noisy ourselves. Sometimes, Mandy was too busy to come, sometimes it was Sam, so it happened that Danny and I were the only ones being here, or just the twins, but it didn't really matter, there was always one of us here and the others could always come to meet. Josh's idea had help us clear our minds and we were all thankful for that. What I wasn't thankful for, on the other hand, was the way his loud mouth spoke freely about things that didn't concern him at all, least of all Sam and Danny. Of course, he talked about the Jake situation. At first I was outraged and even slapped him on the arm, to which he just shrugged, explaining his brother was always late anyway, so we could talk about it. As if that was the issue here ! But as time went by, I calmed down. Sam and Danny already knew, having noticed but not wanting to adress the elephant in the room. Now that the subject had been thrown on the table though, it was different, and if at first Sam's awful comments about how we were both taking our sweet time pissed me off, now we discussed it quietly, confessing my thoughts and feelings in exchange for some advices.

Today was one of those days. The gang was reunited, sitting across a small round table after a tiring day, clinking glasses and chatting loudly, everybody cutting each other off during spicy topics that constantly created heated arguments. Mandy and Sam's bickering never failed to amuse us, with me falling back againt the couch laughing, Josh having climbed on a chair to yell over them in a dramatic manner, and Danny commenting their arguments with a sportscaster voice while they just pointed angrily at each other. It happened once or twice (make it thrice or fourth) now that the bartender had to come to our table to make us cool down, threatening to kick us out if we didn't, because he couldn't even hear the damn radio. Today, like any other day, the only one missing was Jake, fashionably late as always.

- You guys never agree on anything, that's frankly amazing, I said while wipping a tear from the corner of my eye.

Two murderous glare were instantly directed at me, dead serious, like their constant quarelling wasn't something you could take lightly. Of course, they never was any sort of resentment between them, it was more like a game that was entirely theirs. Mandy knew Sam liked to tease her to no end, and the boy never took the words she threw his way to heart. They were never hurtful anyway, they would always make sure of that.

- You know what they say..., announced Josh while taking a sip of his beer, love always starts with hatred.

- Nobody says that..., muttered a perplexed Danny.

However his confusion got rapidly interupted by Sam and Mandy's shouting, barking at Josh telling him how wrong he was about them while the curly boy smiled through his glass.

- I'd rather die, said my roommie.

- That should be my line, replied Sam.

Josh and I exchanged a mischevious and knowing glance that unfortunately didn't go unnoticed by his little brother. The long haired boy made a show of putting both elbows on the table before a devilish smile spread on his lips. Uh-oh.

- Speaking of which, how's Jakey ?

Admiring the way my cheeks grew red at the mention of the object of my affection, he patiently waited for my stuttering to stop while Mandy took side with him, adopting the same posture. Sitting between them, Danny comically raised his eyebrows, knowing damn well they'll torture me to no end, like they took the habit to do when Jake wasn't around. Of course Josh ignored my pleading eyes, enjoying where the conversation was going.

- You should know, you're his brother.

My reply was weak and didn't hide how bashful the subject made me, more reasons for him to pursue it.

- Come on, Mandy told me about the kiss of the century, there's no way nothing happened after that !

- For someone who claims Sam's a pain in the ass you guys are awfully close !, I exclaimed while watching her with an expression of fake betrayal.

- Hey, don't try to change the topic.

A long and loud sigh made its way out of my throat and my eyes were suddenly too absorbed by the bubbles of my soda spiralling to the surface to meet their expectant gazes. God why was it such a big thing to them ? Their fascination for my love life was starting to upset me, especially since it was a lost cause. There was really no reason to dwell upon it. Would they ever drop it ?

- Nothing happened between Jake and I. What do you want me to tell you ? It was just a kiss between friends, it doesn't mean anything.

At that, I felt my chest constrict. It didn't mean anything... for Jake, that is. For me, however... All of them suddenly went awfully quiet, in a very uncharacteristic manner. My head raised in surprise at their abrupt silence, only to be greeted by Jake's gaze on me, standing in front of our table. He must've been waiting for his chance to say hello all the while stepping on a conversation he wasn't meant to hear. My face must've lost all of its colors, and a glance around me confirmed what I feared ; judging by their awkward behaviours, Jake had heard. The boy cleared his throat, showing a toothy smile to the lot of us.

- Hi guys, whatcha talking about ?

During the few seconds he stayed with his back facing us to get a chair, we were all exchanging shocked and confused glances, mouthing hurried words to each other. Was he pretending he didn't hear anything I said ? Did he genuinely not hear our conversation ? However much I pondered about it, and tried relentlessly to think of all the possibilities that could've happened just now, I was at a loss, it was no use. The only thing to do was to go along and play his game, pretending he hadn't just walked on us gossiping about him. It was so awkward. Danny and Josh were the first to bring a new and funny topic, throwing jokes his way, studying his reaction. They immediately put him at ease, inviting Sam and Mandy to the masquerade, effectively hiding their uneasiness for his and my sake. It wasn't working on me, though. I sank into the couch, feeling incredibly shameful. And the few times I tried to react to the conversation at hands, I saw Jake avoid my eyes. Fuck.

I would lie if I said what happened at the bar wasn't playing on loop on my mind. It had been impossible for me to read Jake's brown eyes when he interrupted us, but there was absolutely no doubt that the boy heard us. Maybe it was for the best. I was the one pretending we were just friends anyway, so it wouldn't change anything... except now that he was single a part of me couldn't help but hope I had a chance with him... until now. Because if I was sure of one thing at the moment, it's that Jake was certain I only saw him as a friend. Why was I so unlucky anyway ? Did I offend God in a previous life ?! Man, it was harsh... Just when I had a feeling things could evolve between us, everything got in the way. Work, misunderstandings, my stupidity... On the bright side, I was so thankful I didn't say anything shameful. Because I could've told an awful lot of those. And for nothing in the world I wanted him to walk in when I was making a speech about the soft gleaming of his scar under the sun, or the roundness of his ass. I would forever thank my ability to always find a way to relativise, even during a crisis like this one.

Another person with the same quality was Josh, on top of being a really observant boy, and a good friend. So it was no surprise to me when he nudged my arm during a lecture and leaned into my ear to ask if he could come over after school.

- You know you're always welcome, I whispered back.

Josh smiled a me, and the exchange between us should've ended right here, but I saw his eyes gaze at something behind me, his smile changing into a smirk. He must've caught me notice it because he turned to his notebook again, playing innocent. My head jerked into Jake's direction, studying his stiff figure and furrowed brows. What the hell were they playing at ?

During the few days that followed that incident at the bar, I didn't get any answers to that question. The twins kept exchanging glances whenever I was near one or the other, and the more days passed the more moody Jake looked. I had tried to text him several times during the week, making small talk, asking what he was up to, and sharing silly anecdotes, only to be faced with cold answers. It was like talking to a wall. Something was upsetting him, but I had no way to know if it was school related, because of Josh's behaviour, or if I was the cause of it.

It was friday night when Danny slammed open the café door, causing the bartender to scowl, before completely ignoring him to look for us through the small crowd, hurriedly coming to our table. The drummer threw himself on the couch next to Mandy, looking out of breath but over-excited. And while his happy yet sweaty face made me question him, it only took a simple look for his bandmates to know what was going on. Sam was the first to exclaim and jump on his feet, almost toppling the table with his thighs, making the glasses clink dangerously.

- Are you serious?!

Still out of breath, Danny nodded, interrupting his heavy panting to gulp down the beer Jake was offering him. Josh and him were the next to understand.

- Really ?!

- Okay what is going on, should we be excited to ?, asked Mandy who was sheltering her drink in case anyone else wanted to try and knock over their table.

The drummer raised a finger our direction, indicating he needed some more time to recover from his sprint, removing his scarf in the process. His face was beet red, and although he looked like he was the most athletic of the group, I got slightly concerned he was about to die. He must've ran a long distance real fast, and judging by our friends' hysteria and high-fives, the news were good.

- Greta Van Fleet is playing tomorrow night at O'Malley's.

He let it all out in one go but the words were cristal clear, and now it was Mandy and I's turn to cheer and applaud loudly, congratulating the boys and clinking our glasses together, already chatting about the event before a threatening « Shut up ! » came from another table.

- It's so great you guys ! But are you ready ? Tomorrow night is a bit...

Josh shrugged away my concerns, placing an arm around my shoulder, speaking with his hands.

- Not at all, doll, we're more than ready. In fact we wanted to play there for a while, but the place's always packed.

- Someone cancelled their show at the last minute, so Danny got to negociate, interrupted Jake to sum things up.

Despite the general enthusiasm around the table, I didn't miss the look Jake gave to Josh's hand resting on my shoulder. The boys all nodded, Sam ruffling Danny's hair while congratulating him for his hard work and perseverance. Everyone agreed to buy him drinks to thank him, ignoring his shy protests and rosy cheeks at all the praise. Without even being a member of their band, Mandy and I shared their excitement, already asking what the setlist would be and bargaining with Josh when he insisted that it was a secret. The O'Malley was an Irish pub, like you could guess by their name, located by the docks. Which only meant one thing : it was crazy popular among students. Not only from our campus, but another art school rivaling ours. To be honest the teachers were the ones competing, as us students from both universities often met and hung out together. A lot of them came to our festivals and events, thus becoming friends with us. We let them come to our parties, and they never forgot to invite us over for theirs. Greta Van Fleet playing at the O'Malley on a Saturday night would no doubt be a huge step forward for the boys' band. I could sense the doors of success were already waiting for them to push them open.

The boys rehearsed all day long Saturday, waking up before dawn and arriving early to set everything up and properly meet the owner of the bar. Pictures were sent to our groupchat, Sam explaining that the staff had thanked them for their availability, relieved that they quickly found another band to replace the one who couldn't attend. Mandy and I chose to come early too, arriving one hour before the show and already having trouble finding a seat through the sea of students occupying every inch of space available. Whereas it was because they were taking shelter from the cold, or because their feet ached from standing in the cold didn't matter to the boys, who were delighted to welcome with open arms the newcomers and introduce them to their music. It helped that the word had spread super fast on campus too, with Jake's post on the school's Facebook page. Nursing my beer next to Mandy at the far end of the bar, I recognized the girls from the other time, the night we had our Christmas party, chatting to their girl friends, standing in front of the stage. When the boys got in to set up their instruments, I saw them salute the band, shaking hands and exchanging friendly words with Josh while Jake didn't bother giving them more than a glance and a nod before turning back to his guitar, causing me to snort behind my glass. Mandy was quick to notice that.

- Well aren't you a sneaky little one.

- I don't know what you're talking about.

Paying for her cocktail and putting her change back in her purse, she adopted my posture, back resting against the bar, drink in hand, eyes to the stage. Wearing a black and gold fringe jacket, Jake was focusing on his guitar, tuning it with great care, pick stuck between his lips, the ring I offered him gleaming under the spotlights. Onstage, he looked out of this world, unattainable.

- You know they stand no chance, said Mandy.

It caught me off-guard. But did they ? I looked their way, observing their pretty faces, skin glowing with light makeup, batting their eyelashes, bracelets clinking against one another, long fingers playing with silk strands of hair. A part of me knew Mandy was right and that they couldn't replace me. But then again, incertitude argued that it was my ego talking, and that my confidence was misplaced. With Jake giving me the cold shoulder, I wasn't able to look at the situation with a fair point of view, and Mandy's opinion was made unrelevant by the simple fact that she was my friend. And one thing I knew for sure was that friends were biased, because they loved you. I chose to change the topic.

- What about you and Sam ?

- I don't know what you're talking about, she mimicked.

To make sure my stern look was effective, I turned to her completely, resting an elbow on the bar, while she comically took a long sip of her cocktail, avoiding my eyes, making me smile before I turned to face the stage once more. All barstools and chairs were taken, much to our inconvenience, and shifting from one foot to the other was the only thing I found to release some of the soreness.

- I saw you holding hands under the table.

She gasped audibly before giving me a death stare that just fueled my laughter. There was no way I didn't notice their act, and I was quite certain the others did too, but chose to ignore it. Which by the way was unfair since the lot of them commented my love life like it was a soap opera. However Mandy didn't have the time to give me a proper answer, cut off by Josh's words into the mic, greeting the crowd and announcing the show was about to start.

If anything, their second time playing was even better than the first one. The boys were on fire. Each member had their time to shine in the form of a solo, Josh being his charming self in the meantime, playing with the crowd and blowing kisses our way. They played some covers, encouraging everybody to sing along, but also songs we never heard before, that weren't on the album. One of them in particular allowing Jake to show off the extent of his guitar skills. He blew me away. Expression serious, toned skin glistening with sweat under the blue lights, while Josh's tambourine and melancholic cries accompanied the torturous sounds of his guitar. There was something special about this one, that made my chest constrict due to several emotions contradicting themselves at the same time, causing a turmoil within me. Intrigued by their music or just in need of a drink, several people came into the bar that night, packing the place with new faces, all of them staying for the amazing show the boys were providing for us. By the time they finished, I had long forgotten about my aching feet, instead welcoming the boys in a tight hug, complimenting and congratulating them. Mandy and I already had their beers ready, before anyone else could cut the ground from under our feet. Not that there was anything wrong with people buying them drinks, it was always a very nice thing to do, we just wanted to be the first ones to do it, at least for tonight. They were our friends, so it only seemed fair.

- Here.

Handing Jake his beer, I took a good look at his content face, smile plastered on his lips and moist strands of brown hair sticking to his forehead. He looked gorgeous, at peace and proud of himself and his band. Some people offered them drinks, like we thought they'd do, students came talking to them, to make small chat or to congratulate them. The boys took their time before packing up, talking and laughing with us, their enthusiasm contagious. When closing, the bartender even invited us all to stay inside and have a chat, drinks on the house. It felt incredibly nice to be able to stay here while everybody else had to leave, even the few girls still talking with Jake. Now I'm not gonna lie I might have directed a smile or two their way when the bartender closed the door behind them...

Going back to the dorms was... not an easy task to say the least. We had to call a cab, but as we couldn't all fit in it, we split teams, the most important thing being their music instruments. But even before that... Danny's drumkit was heavy as hell, the boys were tipsy enough to be clumsy and numerous times their instruments threatened to slip and drop on the hard conrete. And even if he was the only one who didn't need to carry anything at all, Josh was completely wasted, singing loud gibberish nonsense, waking up the dogs and barking back at them, removing his shoes and throwing them to trees... Man he was so out of control when drunk even the 5 of us couldn't properly babysit him. It made me realize it was the first time I was sober when he wasn't. And I didn't dare imagine how we must've wreaked havoc the night we brought back the couch to our dorm. Of all of us, Jake once more proved that he was the most serious and reasonable. It wasn't much of a surprise, actually. From what I knew, in situations that required seriousness, the brunette had always been this composed, level-headed boy. I loved that about him, his ability to remain remarkably quiet, then go crazy all of a sudden, before returning to his peaceful self. Josh's shoes in hand, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips when I saw Jake giving his brother a piggy back ride, moved by the fond scene in front of my eyes.

When the cab finally reached our school, Danny and Sam were waiting for us sitting on cases, explaining Josh had forgotten to hand them the key to their door. Since he was the one who didn't need to transport anything, it was only fair he at least took care of the keys in case they'd got lost in a guitar case or whatnot. I couldn't help but think we looked like a bunch of burglars, when everybody started muttering at the same time and hushing each other in the dark of the night. Mandy yawned, waiting to kiss them goodnight to go to sleep, and Jake sighed, defeated.

- Okay Josh, give me the keys.

Once again carrying his twin on his back, the long haired boy nudged his sleepy cheek with his shoulder to wake him up, not minding the drool on his jacket. Mandy couldn't contain a cute noise when Josh turned his head to get more comfortable in his brother's back, making Jake snort in the process.

- Just drop him, suggested Sam right before Danny elbowed him.

He really could've, to wake him up, but it seemed like Jake didn't have the heart to shake him out of his peaceful drowse. More abruptly, he shook his shoulder, causing Josh to whine.

- What, he groaned.

- We're in front of the dorms, give me the keys.

There was a silence during which Josh sighed, taking his time to process what his brother was asking, unfazed by Sam's complaints. The boy rubbed his eyes, sliding an arm in Jake's back to comfortably put his head against it. I could tell he was beginning to feel heavy, because Jake's hold on him slipped more and more frequently and he had to give him a small but strong push to get him back into place.

- What keys, he finally said.

Mandy and I exchanged a glance, one of those that said « Shit's about to go down », and Danny's face lit up with concern. You could see he already had the worst case scenario figured in his mind and was imagining them sleeping in the school's park.

- What do you mean you-

- Sam, Jake warned him. Josh, remember, we told you to take the keys to our rooms so we don't put them by mistake in one of the cases.

- No you didn't.

He was now perfectly awake, shaken by the confusing accusations, and got off of Jake's back, stumbling a bit, probably because his legs must felt numb after being carried around for a long period of time. Sam got up too, not amused by the situation. He was cold, he was tired, and he still had a lot of shit to lift on the stairs and if possible he wanted to be done with it before dawn.

- Yes we did !, the bassist said with his arms raised in the air.

- Yeah, we did, Danny assured him when Josh's gaze found his face for some sort of confirmation.

Silence again. Somehow, Mandy and I didn't dare to watch them. It remembered me of those situations when parents are having a fight and then turn to you... and start finding every excuse they can to yell at you even though you've done nothing. Well... Let's say we tried to summon our inner chameleons while they all started to get pissed at Josh. It was kind of awkward and we couldn't find a good time to leave. Besides, we couldn't let them sleep under the stars.

- Why don't you sleep at ours for tonight ? You'll return to the O'Malley tomorrow and ask them about the keys.

It was the most Mandy thing I ever said since we met the guys, but it was the only solution right now. It took us another hour to climb the stairs with all those heavy and big instruments cases, probably waking up half of the dorm in the process, but it felt so good to be home. The room was warm, and the bed was calling me. The first thing Josh did was to dive head first onto the couch without even taking the time to remove his coat, and fell asleep almost immediately, pulling the blanket on him (more like letting it fall on his body). Sitting around the kitchen table, we all had a hot cup of tea/coffee to warm us up and get some of the alcohol out of our system. Danny was the first one to word his concern about the bedding.

- It's really nice you girls allow us to sleep here for the night, he shyly said, but...

His big hands were entirely covering his mug, enjoying its warmth, thumb caressing the edge of it, thinking of a good way to phrase it. An embarrassed look was adorning his features, which I couldn't help but find endearing.

- There's no room for six... is it ?

- You're right, Jake said. Maybe I should stay awake ?

I didn't know if it was a rhetorical question or if he was being serious but there was no way anybody stayed awake while the others were asleep. First of all, it was creepy. But above all, it wasn't fair. Thinking hard, I let a hand run through my hair, ruffling the locks in its passage.

- Oh, Mandy I think there's an airmat under your bed ! There, two down, four more to go. Let's see...

- We just have to share beds, suddenly said Sam.

All heads turned to him, and the boy put his cup on the table, shrugging.

- What ? It's the easy solution. There are two big beds in the room, don't tell me nobody thought about it. What do you think, Jake ?

His cough was so loud he spilled his drink everywhere on his hands, color leaving then regaining his face alternaly. Standing up to lay his empty cup in the sink, Sam patted his back, wicked smile on his face.

- Then it's settled. Let's go, Mandy.

Oh you sneaky son of a...

I should've seen this coming. I should've known better. Of course Sam would do something like that, it was so him, I couldn't believe I let my guard down like that. And his little act with Mandy, pretending they didn't like each other and then snuggling in bed, ah, I hated my friends. The sadistic bastard even got Danny to play along in his three years plan to make my life miserable.

It was uncomfortably silent for a room filled with six young adults, our breathing being the only noise audible. With the halfway closed curtains, the dim light was dark enough for us to distinguish forms and silhouettes painted in different shades of blue and grey. Sometimes, the sound of a cover brushing against the mattress will get me out of my thoughts, other times it will be Josh's sleep talking or Danny's serene snoring. Sam had lied. The bed wasn't big at all. It was cramped, at best, and I couldn't calm down at all. Jake's warmth was suffocating, my thumping heart wouldn't slow down, and I was over conscious of every little thing he was doing. My throat instinctively tried to swallow the lump residing there when I felt the covers ruffling on my skin, Jake's hot breath now brushing my neck.

- Can't sleep ?

His husky voice whispering in my ear caused an uncontrollable shiver to run down my spine. Each of his breathes awoke goosebumps on my skin, covering their path like grass would grow after the rain. It always amazed me, the power he had over me, without even realizing it. Just two words murmured in the crook of my neck and my body was almost trembling already. As my voice was caught in my throat, my body reacted on its own and I shook my head slightly, enough for him to notice. Jake sighed. I could hear him rustling and moving behind me, careful not to touch me and not knowing what to do with his long arms.

- Did you mean it ?, he said after a while.

Furrowing my brows in confusion wasn't going to work, so I turned to face him, both lying on our side to look at each other in the dark. I could only see the shadows of his face, but by now my eyes were accustomed enough to distinguish his expressions more clearly. Jake swallowed hard, gaze focusing on anything but my eyes, looking... confused and rather saddened, discouraged.

- What you said at the bar.

At the bar... My brain had trouble seeing where he was going, but my body must've sensed it on instinct because my heart started pounding madly, as if wanting to warn me of what was coming. Suddenly brave enough to face me, Jake's eyes stared into mine, intense yet unsure.

- Do you only see me as a friend... ?

Unable to run away, I had to face him, and answer him. My voice was still caught in my throat, and my palms were getting sweaty. Jake was dead serious. So much that I thought for a second I was dreaming. His eyes weren't leaving mine, I had to answer. But what was the good thing to say ? What would I do if I told him the truth and he only saw me as a friend ? From my perspective he led me into thinking there might be more but... My feelings for him were blurring everything. And if I lied... and he wanted to be more than friends... Then I'd lose him.

- Jake...

- Because I really want to kiss you right now.

His hand hovered above my head, fingers carefully rustling my hair, pushing some strands behind my ear and brushing my cheek. His eyes, half-lidded and gaze burning, were following every inch his digits traced on my skin. Carefully, Jake's thumb came caressing my lower lip, slowly, painfully so, admiring how soft it felt against his finger, parting it slightly from its twin. A ragged breath escaped from them, and his eyes found mine again, dying to get permission. Shyly, my shaky hand gripped his shirt, pulling it close. It was the only thing he needed to lose all control, and he swiftly straddled my hips, framing my head with his arms, before ghosting his lips over mine. My mind was foggy, and my brain couldn't understand anything anymore, all I knew was that I had waited for this for so long, I didn't want to waste any more time now. Arms snaking around Jake's neck, I closed the distance separating us, the soft and awaited contact causing us to sigh in unison. It felt so good, both inside and out. His plump lips captured mine with a mixture of longing and hunger, while my heart was about to burst from happinness. With confidence, I embraced him more, pulling him closer to me, biting his lip and admiring the way it made him gasp, feeling his shaky fingers hesitating to touch me, like he was under some kind of delirium tremens and I was the fantasy haunting his nights. It only made me want him more. Never once did he try to touch me in a way that I wasn't ready for yet, keeping it chaste, and I'll forever be thankful for that. It seemed like we both had silently agreed to take our time, but I couldn't concentrate on that right now. Not when Jake's tongue was licking my lips, taking my lower one between his teeth to playfully chew on it, making me pant, fingers lost in his long brown hair. There was a sense of urgence to this kiss, of need even, like he had been waiting for it for so long he couldn't refrain himself anymore. The mere thought of it made me hot. Eventually, we cooled down, and Jake stayed on top of me, leaning on his arms, covering my face with soft kisses, the sound of them resonating in the room. We looked at each other for a while, and I couldn't stop a bubbly giggle, making him chuckle too.

- Fuck... I had thought about this moment for so long, his raspy voice murmured.

- Me too.

- I always thought you liked Josh better.

So that was what it was about, all those past days... Josh upsetting Jake on purpose because he was jealous. What a brat, I couldn’t believe them, so silly.

- Dummy. I think I like you.

My voice was almost inaudible, barely a whisper. It made me blush, but now it was out, and it felt so good to get rid of this weight. Jake nuzzled my neck, taking in my scent, tickling me.

- You think ?

I could tell he was as embarrassed as me, and probably not as confident as he looked, because his cheeks were burning hot, and he wouldn't face me. Against my chest, the accelerated beating of his heart was so loud it seemed like it was communicating with mine.

- No, I said. I'm sure.

Slouching against me in a relieved manner, the boy let out a sigh that burned my skin, before shifting to comfortably rest his chin on my chest, facing me with a smile on his face.

- Good. Because I do too.

Even in the dark, I could see the way his cheeks were a darker shade of gray than the rest of his features. Jake liked me. A huge wave of joy went through my body, overcoming me with both delight and relief. There was no words I could put on this sensation. Suddenly, it was like every other problem in the world had faded away, and I finally understood Edith Piaf's La Vie En Rose. Being in his arms, lying against one another, skin against skin, everything finally made sense.

- Come here, I whispered.

We kissed again, playful and teasing, barely containing our excited giggles.

- Shut up !!

Sam's pillow came flying our way, quickly followed by Josh, Mandy, and Danny's.

- Fucking date already !

- So annoying, people are trying to sleep !

More cushions came crashing down on our bed, making us laugh for real this time, as Jake took them in his hands to fight back. Soon, shouting, laughter and feathers filled the room, as the sun was beginning to appear in the clear sky of February. And as we were all screaming and throwing pillows at each other, I couldn't help but smile, and exchange warm glances with Jake.

Yeah, with him by my side, everything's going to be just fine.

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