#and we spoke for like an hour or so and he said he is is sad that i'm leaving because i'm such a nice person and a great coworker 🥺
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Wait for your love Pt 3
summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you
inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)
a/n: as promised the final part of wait for your love :D literally just finished it. Enjoy 💞
Don’t wanna feed this monstrous fire
On a bright Saturday morning, you found yourself nestled in a booth opposite Chan. A week into your move, Chan was finally able to convince you to join him at a nearby cafe for lunch. He insisted that this cafe was “hidden” and such a “hole in the wall” that someone cool like you-know-who would never step within 5 feet of the place.
Chan sipped his ice americano silently, thinking of the best way of approaching the topic of you-know-who. He was becoming increasingly concerned about your maladaptive habits: barely eating meals, sleeping less than 4 hours each night and studying every waking moment. That wasn’t even the scariest part, the scariest was when he’d catch you staring into space, as if your soul had left your body.
You were too busy admiring at your iced latte to notice a familiar figure walking pass the window adjacent to your table.
Chan, however, immediately noticed his tall friend. He prayed to all the gods that his friend was too tall to see anybody. Sadly his prayer went unanswered
Kim Mingyu immediately doubled back when he noticed his two friends sitting by the window. His eyes met Chan’s. Chan tilted his head towards you and shook his head.
Now to any normal person, that would have meant do not come over.
Clearly, Mingyu was anything but normal.
“Y/n! Dino!”
Mingyu’s voice pulled you out of the staring contest you were having with your latte. You looked up to find the tall man sliding himself into the booth, shoulder to shoulder with Dino. The massive grin on his face almost blinding you.
Dino nudged Mingyu hard on the shoulder. “Bro, what are you doing here?”
Here being halfway across town from where Mingyu lived.
“Basketball!” Mingyu beamed at the younger man, “I’m meeting the others at a court nearby! Won- FUCK!”
Chan dug his heel into Mingyu’s toe, keeping a smile on his face.
You jumped, startled by Mingyu’s sudden outburst. “Are you alright?”
“Dino just-,”
“He just hit is knee on the table,” Chan gave Mingyu a warning look as he pushed his foot down harder. “Long legs can be such a curse huh, bro?”
Mingyu pulled his foot away and glared at Chan.
You blinked at the odd behaviour from your friends.
Your eyes met Mingyu’s, you sent him a small smile before returning to stare at your latte.
Mingyu noticed the stark contrast from your usual bubbly self. From memory, you were the girl who offered him a cup of coffee when he dragged Wonwoo’s drunk ass home at 5AM in the morning. Mingyu remembered you pestering him to send you a text when he got home so that you would know he was safe. You, who was barely his shoulder height, were worried for a tall, muscular boy like him.
Mingyu looked at Chan and gestured towards the door. Chan nodded.
“Sorry y/n, I’m just gonna talk to Gyu about something.” Chan spoke gently.
“Male stuff.” Mingyu nodded as he slid out of the seat.
They were both pretty sure your soul wasn’t even in your body at the moment from how you blankly nodded.
Mingyu and Chan stood outside the cafe, making sure not to be in your line of sight.
Mingyu crossed his arms. “What happened?”
“You don’t know? Wonwoo didn’t tell you?”
“I’m seeing him for the first time today.” Mingyu explained. “He’s been refusing to leave the house.”
“He busy fucking other girls?” Chan sneered.
“I-,” Mingyu stopped, taken aback. “What?”
“Bro. Come on.”
“I genuinely have no idea what you are talking about.” Mingyu said as he held his hands up.
Chan stared at the taller man for a few seconds and sighed.
“Don’t tell anybody what I’m about to tell you.”
As you sat waiting for Chan, droplets of water began appearing on the table.
You furrowed your brows.
Was the ceiling leaking?
You looked up only to feel tears rolling down your cheeks.
You brought you hand up to your face.
Ah, you were crying.
The tears continued. Just like your memories of Wonwoo.
“God,” You muttered, reaching for a bunch of tissues. “I’m pathetic.”
“Why can’t it be me?” You whispered as sobs started leaving your mouth.
“Why am I so unlovable?”
You tried to be as silent as possible, covering your face with your hands.
That’s how Chan found you when he came back.
He quickly guided you home. Hoping to hell that Wonwoo would stub his toe against a particular hard piece of furniture.
Me and my truth (again)
Wonwoo watched Vernon argue with Soonyoung as they threw the ball back and forth, Jeonghan stood in between the two of them mediating the argument. He wasn’t sure what they were arguing about, for all he cared they could plotting a bank robbery.
He brought his eyes down to this palms. A small smile on his face as he remembered the first time you held his hand.
The two of you were rushing to catch the train. Back then he was still around your height and you were still much faster than him. He lagged behind you, huffing and puffing as you ran ahead. He stopped to catch his breath, bending over and placing his hands on his knees.
You had turned back to check on him. Once you were sure he was fine, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into another sprint. Flashing him a grin.
For the rest of the day his face was burning hot. When you asked him about it, he just blamed it on his poor stamina. He didn’t want to be that loser that got flustered when a girl touched him. He was. But at least he hoped he didn’t seem that way to you.
“JEON WONWOO!”
A red-faced Mingyu was storming towards him.
Mingyu grabbed Wonwoo by the collar and lifted him up from his sitting position.
Wonwoo blinked, “What-,”
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Mingyu snarled. “I thought you were in love with y/n?”
“I am! What on earth-,”
“Then why’d you sleep with another girl?” Mingyu bellowed, tightening his grip on Wonwoo’s collar.
Audible gasps could be heard from Soonyoung and Vernon as they abandoned their argument. Jeonghan’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
Not waiting for a reply, Mingyu pushed Wonwoo to the ground.
“It didn’t mean anything.” Wonwoo retorted, adjusting his glasses.
“Not to y/n it didn’t!” Mingyu fumed.
“I wanted to talk to her about it! She left before I could!” Wonwoo reasoned from his position on the ground.
“Did you ever try to reach her? Try to find her?” Mingyu fumed, “No! All you’ve been doing is rot at home while she’s crying everyday at Chan’s place!”
Wonwoo mouth fell open. You were crying?
“Mingyu that’s enough.” Jeonghan placed a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder, he had to stop this before it turned into a full blown fight.
“You better fix yourself,” Mingyu pointed a shaky finger at Wonwoo, “before you completely lose her.”
I’m still here hanging
After the event at the cafe, you decided you weren’t ready to leave the house. Or your room for that matter.
You gave Chan free reign over your door. He’d pop his head in and out of your room, sometimes leaving the door open even if all you were doing was lying on the floor. Chan would bring food into your room, trying to coax you into eating even if all you could manage was one or two spoonfuls.
Minghao came over more often, bringing with his snacks from China and various tea leaves.
“Let’s do some therapy!”
“What?”
“I read this thing online,” Minghao started, “it’s you burn all the stuff you have that reminds you of the person causing you pain.”
You stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
“According to Reddit, it works.” Minghao crossed his arms and nodded. He would do anything to try to get you to leave your room.
“Firstly, I’m not into trusting strangers on Reddit.” You turned back to the ceiling. “Secondly, burning things and the environment are a no-no for me.”
“Well, good to know you love the environment.” Minghao muttered as he sipped his tea.
A loud knock came from the front door.
“Were you expecting someone?” Minghao asked.
“No, you?”
“No.”
It was a relatively safe neighbourhood, but you never knew who would want to rob poor Lee Chan and his collection of electric shavers in the bathroom. Minghao picked up a frying pan and headed to the door.
“Who is it?” Minghao sang.
Hearing no answer, Minghao held up the frying pan with one hand and swung the door open with the other. He came face to face with Jeon Wonwoo.
Wonwoo eyes were wide. “Hao?”
Minghao didn’t lower the pan, maybe he should whack the boy. Sure, Chan’s collections of razors were safe, but you weren’t.
“I come in peace I swear.” Wonwoo held up his hand.
“Debatable.” Minghao muttered, “Why are you here?”
“Is y/n here?” Wonwoo got straight to the point.
“What if she is?”
“I just need to talk to her.”
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Minghao crossed his arms.
“Please,” Wonwoo was not above begging when it came to you. “If you’d just let me explain to her-,”
“Hao?” Wonwoo’s ears immediately perked up at your voice. “Who is it?”
“Please.” Wonwoo whispered.
Minghao stared at Wonwoo for what seemed like ages before letting out a sigh.
“30 minutes.”
“Thank you!” Wonwoo’s lips stretched into a grin.
“But if I hear anything I don’t like, I’m coming straight back in with this pan.”
It’s something like a daydream
“Hao?”
You sat up when you didn’t hear a reply from your friend. Was he murdered by the robbers? You knew Chan’s collection of razors were well sought after but you didn’t expect people were willing to kill for it.
Wrapping yourself up in a blanket, you stepped out of your room.
“Hao?” You called out again, making your way towards the living room.
Instead of Minghao, there was a familiar boy in the living room.
You froze.
“Wonwoo.” You whispered.
“Y/n.” Wonwoo breathed.
You were both relieved and anxious. Relieved because it wasn’t some random stranger, anxious because it was Wonwoo.
You cleared your throat. “Where’s Hao?”
“In the hallway,” Wonwoo answered.
“Oh.”
“Can we talk?” Wonwoo said, sounding almost hopeful.
“Sure.”
You made no move to the couch or towards him. You remained standing in the hallway. Partially because you didn’t expect him to stay long, partially because you didn’t trust yourself not to burst into tears.
Wonwoo’s shoulders fell when he realised you were just going to stand there. Just a year ago he was able to anticipate your every want and need. It was shameful that now he couldn’t get a read on what you were thinking or feeling.
Wonwoo took a deep breath and began.
“I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. You shouldn’t have to come and pick me up when I’m drunk at a party.” He paused and waited for your reply.
When nothing came he continued. “I’m so sorry for not speaking to you at home or in school. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings. I just didn’t know how to face you after-,” Wonwoo’s face turned red. “-after kissing you.”
“The night that I brought a girl home.”
You stiffened.
“I swear I wasn’t in my right mind. I was drunk and I don’t remember anything from the night before. I promise it didn’t mean anything, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”
Wonwoo eyes searched your face, “Please, y/n, you have to believe me.”
After a long period of silence, you finally spoke.
“It’s fine Wonwoo, you don’t have to apologise.”
Your voice was devoid of emotion.
It wasn’t Wonwoo’s fault you couldn’t control your feelings. You were just unlucky to have fallen for him.
Wonwoo blinked.
“If that’s all you came to say,” You forced a smile before turning back towards your room. “I’m really tired so if you could please leave.”
“No, wait!” Wonwoo closed the distance between the two of you.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. You were so shocked you dropped your blanket to the ground. You were basically nose to nose with Wonwoo right now.
“Please.” He begged, “Please come back home.”
“Wonwoo,” You whispered, tears threatening to slip out of your eyes. “I don’t think I can live with you anymore.”
The way he was holding you, the way he was speaking to you. The false hope that grew in your heart every time Wonwoo gave you the time of day. This was the reason why you couldn’t live with him anymore.
It hurts to know he would never love you the way you loved him.
It hurts to know you would never be enough for him.
“Wonwoo-,” your voice broke, fresh tears started rolling down your cheeks.
“Y/n, please,” Wonwoo begged, “tell me what I can do to make you come home.”
“Wonwoo, I-,”
“Please, y/n.”
“I can’t go with you because I’m in love with you.”
“I-,” Wonwoo paused, “What?”
“I know you don’t see me that way and that’s completely fine.” You blubbered, “Just please don’t make me live with you. I can’t go through that again-,”
Wonwoo kissed you. Completely sober this time.
He pulled back to look at you.
Your eyes were wide, still sniffling from crying.
“I love you too.” He said, resting his forehead on yours as he stared into your eyes.
This was the best day of his life.
“What?” You whispered in disbelief, was this some sort of cruel joke?
“Been in love with you since the day you sat with me in school.” He confirmed.
“But Wonwoo, that was the first day you met me.” You said softly, as Wonwoo used his thumb to wipe away your tears.
“I guess it is.” He whispered. “I’ve loved you since day one.”
“Are you kidding me?” You said in mock annoyance. “If you had told me sooner, we wouldn’t have to go through all this.”
Wonwoo didn’t really care about all that, right now he was just happy to have you in his arms again, the fact that you loved him back made the moment all so much sweeter.
“I can tell you again.” Wonwoo suggested with a nod.
He began peppering kisses all over your face. With each kiss he’d stare into your eyes and very seriously say “I love you” before moving onto another site.
You giggled at Wonwoo’s silly antiques.
When he had finally decided you had enough of his love, he tried again.
“Please come home.”
You eyed him hesitantly.
“Y/n, I will personally pack all your stuff up here and bring it over. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
You gave him a real genuine smile. “Of course I’ll move back with you.”
Wonwoo’s face lit up, he looked like a kid who’s Christmas came early.
“Ok guys, I’m coming back in!” Minghao’s voice came from the other side of the door. “I swear if you guys are doing any hanky panky in there you two better stop it!”
You and Wonwoo exchanged amused looks before bursting out into laughter.
Wonwoo vowed to spend the rest of his life making up for all that he had done and for all the time you two had lost. He thanked whoever or whatever made you sit next to him that fateful day in high school. Most of all he’d spend his days showering you with love and affection until you physically and mentally couldn’t stand it anymore.
a/n: hope it wasn't too bad, was rushing cause i want to sleep soon. always open to comments and criticism!! 💗
#jeon wonwoo#wonu#seventeen wonwoo#seventeen jeon wonwoo#seventeen wonu#svt wonwoo#svt jeon wonwoo#svt wonu#wonwoo#wonwoo fic#wonu fic#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x y/n#wonwoo x you#wonu x reader#wonu x y/n#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo angst#jeon wonu#svt fanfic#svt fic#svt x reader#svt fluff#seventeen#svt#seventeen fic#svt imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff
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May we continue to love forever
bf!haechan
fluff, mentions of murder jokes
word count : 1,341
In moments like these where you let yourself delve into your thoughts. Staring out the window as the train began to start up again, slowly chugging down the rail road, you found yourself thinking of how you became so lucky to meet the guy that sat right next to you.
It was cliche, really. He ran into you when talking to his friends and proceeded to get lost in your eyes as he apologised. You two talked for hours after that first meeting, he left his friends just so he could go and get to know the girl he fell for.
His soft brown hair soon was dyed black and you fell for him all over again - even when you two had been dating for months at this point.
It was times when you least expected it, that you would fall in love with him all over again.
When the wind would be blowing your hair back, messing it up in the process but he would just stare loving at you and brush the hair behind your hair so it didn’t bother you so much.
You always thought about that moment. The way your heart fluttered and you felt your face heat up, it always brought a small smile to your face.
You felt a tap on your thigh, “Babe, this is our stop.” You looked towards Haechan and quickly stood up, following after him as he walks off the train.
“What would you do without me.” He spoke in a teasing manner, passing you your bag - which you had forgotten about completely.
“I would be perfectly fine without you.” It wasn’t a lie. It just so happened that whenever you were with him, you became so relaxed that you forgot things that you wouldn’t normally forget. You knew he would be there for you to pick up on the things you forgot.
“So why did you want to come here?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his puffer jackets pockets.
“It’s a surprise.” You smile at the boy and begin to walk in front of him to lead the way. He followed behind you, a love struck smile plastered onto his face despite the icy winds that had the both of you shivering even in the warmest jackets you had.
“Did we have to come down near the ocean on a day like this? I’m going to freeze to death.” He complains after a few minutes of walking in peacefully silence. It was a quiet area, but with the weather it was even more quiet. People chose to stay inside the warmth on days like this. Not the two of you though.
You were sure that Haechan would love to go back home now, but you were determined to show him the surprise. It would be worth it once you get there
“Don’t start complaining now, Hyuck, we will get there soon.”
“Gosh, why is there no people around-“ he paused and you heard his teeth chattering for a moment before he continued. “You’re taking me to a murder spot aren’t you? Is this why you were so eager? Is my death the surprise.”
You stopped walking and began to laugh at the boy. He stopped next to you, a lazy grin across his face.
“No Haechan, I don’t want to murder you, at least not here.”
“Why? I think this would be a lovely place to die.” You sigh at his words, beginning to walk again.
“Let’s not talk about such matters when I’m quite literally taking you to a place of pure happiness.”
“is it my grave-“
“Haechan!” You shouted, looking at him only to see him avoiding your gaze and laughing to himself.
The two of you arrive at a local restaurant. As you stepped inside, memories seemed to come back to Haechan. His eyes widened and he grabbed ahold of your jacket.
“No way… you found this place.”
“I didn’t. Mark said he had been here and I wanted to surprise you.”
Haechan stared in awe as he looked around the same restaurant that he had only seen in movies and dramas. The same restaurant that he for some reason was never able to find the address off.
As the two of you followed a waiter to a table, you felt Haechan grabbing ahold of your hand. He interlocked your fingers for a brief second, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go when the waiter looked back to speak to you.
The both of you sat down and looked at the menu. it was a quiet family owned restaurant that left Haechan in awe. He took in the beautiful layout and the romantic lighting the place had. Plus the heating in here made it a perfect moment for him.
He took off his jacket and looked towards you while you read the names of the dishes that you were interested in getting. You weren’t doing anything special in that moment, simply sitting there and reading a menu, and yet Haechan fell in love with you all over again.
He lifted his phone up, aiming the camera at you and quickly snapping a picture. The clicking sound caught your attention and you look up from the menu to see the boy giggling to himself as he looked at his phone.
“Did you really take a picture of me?” You say, placing the menu down on the table, unable to hide the smile slowly growing on your face.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He says, putting his hands up. “I just think you look very pretty right now.”
You blushed and quickly looked away from his eyes, picking the menu back up and telling him to pick a dish. He chuckles at you but never the less listens to what you said.
The both of you eat your meals rather quietly, simply enjoying the atmosphere and the gentle music that played in the background. The cloudy blue sky became darker as the night rolled in and the sun set.
“I want to stay here tonight.” Haechan says, sinking back into his chair. He looks over at you, staring into your eyes that were growing tired.
“I should book us a hotel room.” He says, picking up his phone.
You reach over the table and push his phone down a bit. “We don’t have any extra clothes on us.”
Haechan shrugs his shoulders. “We can always buy some tomorrow, or tonight quickly before stores start to close.”
You sigh and say, “You really don’t want to go back home?”
He shakes his head, reaching across the table to grab a hold of your hands. “I want to stay with you all night in a place as beautiful as this town.”
You chuckle at his words, “You’ve only really seen this store, what do you mean this town.”
“I’m sure the town is as beautiful as you are.” You want to laugh at his over the top flirting but you decide to delve into it. He loved complimenting you, even if it was in the more embarrassing way possible.
“and if it’s ugly?” You say, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him.
“then it’s because you’re too beautiful that everything else becomes ugly.”
You roll your eyes and stand up, ready to go pay for the meal. He leaps from the chair and almost trips you as he rushes past you to pay for it.
“You paid for the train tickets, I’ll pay for the meal and the hotel room.”
you couldn’t deny the offer and decided to let him pay for the meal.
As the two of you put your jackets on and stepped outside into the freezing cold air, you hear Haechan say in a light manner,
“You know, you should’ve lied when you said Mark found this place. It’s less romantic knowing he found it.”
You scoff out a laugh and shove the boy. “Shut up and get a hotel room, it’s too cold out here.”
#nct dream#nct dream imagine#nct imagines#nct#nct dream imagines#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct haechan#haechan imagines#haechan imagine#haechan
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Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse
Word Count: 4388
Series Rewrite Masterlist
You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boys’ motel room, sipping a coffee you’d run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases he’d found.
“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—” Dean started.
“Ooh, I like Cali,” you cut him off.
“—Its crew vanished.” He finished.
“And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.”
“Meh, that’s boring. Let somebody else handle that one,” you dismissed.
Dean noticed Sam hadn’t spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.
“Hey,” Dean called to his brother. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”
“No. I’m listening. Keep going.”
He clearly wasn’t.
“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.”
“Ooh, I like that one,” you said.
Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”
Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”
“Seen what?” you asked.
Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag.
“What are you doing?” Dean eyed his brother strangely.
The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldn’t quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.
“Guys, I know where we have to go next.”
“Where?” Dean asked.
“Back home. Back to Kansas,” he responded.
The older brother was surprised. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”
He showed the photo to the two of you. “Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?”
“Yeah…?” Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.
“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?”
Dean— as well as you— was still lost. “I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house— I think they might be in danger,” Sam rushed out.
“Why would you think that?” you questioned.
“Uh… it’s just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?” Sam turned away.
“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. “Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”
“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam shrugged.
“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.”
You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. “I have these nightmares.”
You nodded. “We’ve noticed.”
“And sometimes… they come true.”
Dean was stunned. “Come again?”
“Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica’s death— for days before it happened,” Sam explained.
“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed.
“No,” the younger brother protested. “I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”
You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. “I don’t know.”
Sam sat down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”
“Sam, slow down—” you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.
Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”
“When what?” you asked.
Dean’s voice broke for the first time since you’d met him. “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?”
Sam’s puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”
Dean nodded. “I know we do.”
***
You looked out at the boys’ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.
“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked his brother who didn’t respond.
“Jury’s still out on that,” you muttered in response.
Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Sam’s face.
“Yes?” the woman said.
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—”
One Winchester cut the other off. “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”
The woman seemed surprised and smiled. “Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She turned to you. “Are you a Winchester, too? I didn’t see a little girl in any of the pictures.”
You shook your head. “No, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).”
She smiled at you. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”
Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.
“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” the toddler called excitedly.
“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie,” Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. “But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.” She walked back over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.”
“Hi,” the shy girl said quietly.
You waved.
“So, you just moved in?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, from Wichita.”
“You got family here, or…?”
Jenny’s smile faded. “No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”
“So, how you likin’ it so far?” Sam questioned.
Jenny laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home— I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here—”
You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly.
“But this place has its issues,” she finished.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”
That caught your attention. “Oh, that’s too bad. What else?”
“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”
Dean shook his head. “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”
Jenny looked at him quizzically. “It’s just the scratching, actually.”
Sari tugged on her mom’s shirt, who stooped down next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”
“What, Sari?” Sam asked.
“The thing in my closet,” she whispered as if the thing would hear.
“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny looked up to you and the boys. “Right?”
They shook their heads.
“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.
Sari’s voice suddenly got louder. “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.”
The boys seemed too shocked to speak.
You took over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re okay now though, right?”
She nodded.
“See? It didn’t get ya. It was only a dream.”
You knew it wasn’t. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door.
“You hear that? A figure on fire,” Sam reminded the two of you.
“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.
"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”
“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true,” the older brother chuckled humorlessly.
“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”
“I don’t know!” Dean responded.
The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.
“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam inquired.
“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”
“Both of you need to calm down,” you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. “We’re gonna get those people safe. Whatever’s in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.”
“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Dean remarked.
You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. “Look, dude, you’re gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.”
Sam and Dean both nodded.
“You’re runnin’ low on gas, Dee.” You patted Dean’s cheek before sitting back against your chair.
***
“We just gotta chill out, that’s all,” Dean said as he pumped gas.
“I’ve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.”
He ignored your snide comment. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”
"We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam sighed.
"Exactly,” the older brother began, “except this time, we already know what happened.”
"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”
"About that night, you mean?”
"Yeah.”
Dean paused. “Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.”
You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.
“You did?” the younger Winchester asked.
"Yeah, what, you never knew that?”
"No.”
“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was— was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”
“And he never had a theory about what did it?”
“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”
"Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”
You decided to add your two cents. “Yeah. We can talk to your dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”
Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy.
“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam piped up.
‘Of course, it doesn’t,’ you thought.
Dean kept quiet for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he finally said. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.
You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.”
While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.
“You stalkin’ me?”
“No, actually, I came to check on you.”
“Well, I’m fine.” He went to brush past you.
You grabbed his bicep. “Don’t lie to me.”
He stopped, looking you over. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“Then what’s this?” you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.
Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. “C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking away from you.
You caught up to him, asking, “Are you sure you don’t just want me to do this one by myself?”
He nodded sharply.
Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.
You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.
***
The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Mary’s death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.
She guided the client out of the door. “Alright, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.”
The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.
She addressed the three of you. “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”
You giggled.
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.
“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” the woman explained.
You stared at her, as did the boys.
“Well? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ain’t got all day.”
You looked at Dean. You knew you hadn’t told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room.
“Well, lemme look at ya,” she smiled at the boys. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed her finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.”
You giggled again. You liked her a lot.
“Sam.” Missouri grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father— he’s missin’?”
“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked her.
“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.”
“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean questioned.
Missouri’s smile faded. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?”
“Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.”
You smirked at Sam and sat down.
Missouri snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”
“I didn’t do anything!” he responded.
“But you were thinkin’ about it.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.
“(Y/N), honey, I didn’t mean to completely disregard you,” she smiled at you. “(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?” She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. “I knew your dad. Mean ol’ bastard.”
Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri.
“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she went on. “I’m just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.” She tsked.
Tears welled in your eyes.
Sam knew he should change the subject. “Okay. So, our dad— when did you first meet him?”
“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri explained.
“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean questioned.
“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”
“And could you?”
You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Mary’s passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your father’s wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldn’t let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.
“Baby, you are not weak.” Missouri’s voice pulled you back to shore. “I’m sorry I brought all that up for you.”
You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Dean’s gaze boring into the side of your head.
***
You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldn’t register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadn’t truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didn’t exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions.
Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sari’s bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you.
“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” Missouri explained, walking around Sari’s room.
“Why?” Sam asked.
Missouri turned to him. “This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.”
Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.
“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.
“Yeah,” Dean answered.
“Amateur,” she deadpanned.
You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically.
“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri told the Winchesters.
“Wait, are you sure?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.
She nodded.
“How do you know?”
“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.”
“What is it?” Dean asked.
“Not it.” Missouri opened the closer. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”
“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.
“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri elaborated.
Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”
“You said there was more than one spirit.”
“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”
Dean’s voice became hard. “Well, one thing’s for damn sure— nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”
***
After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jenny’s house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.
“Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you guys here alone,” she told Missouri.
“Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”
You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.
When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jenny’s bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spirit’s hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.
“(Y/N)!” he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.
You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.
Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. “Can you stand?”
You nodded again. With Dean’s help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jenny’s kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place.
“You sure this is over?” Sam asked the psychic.
“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?”
Sam sighed in response. “Never mind. It’s nothin’, I guess.”
The front door opened.
“Hello? We’re home,” Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. “What happened?”
"Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this,” Sam told her.
“Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess,” Missouri added.
Dean stood glued to his spot.
“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.”
He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.
“And don’t cuss at me!”
***
You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jenny’s house.
“Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked his brother.
“I don’t know. I just… I still have a bad feeling,” he responded.
“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”
“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”
Dean slumped down in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”
You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. “Guys, look!”
The three of you rushed into the house.
“You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said.
You nodded and sprinted to Ritchie’s room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.” She obliged and took the little boy from you.
Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away.
You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.
Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.
“No, don’t! Don’t!” Sam cried.
“What, why?!” you asked.
“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”
And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.
You could see tears rising in Dean’s eyes as he lowered his gun. “Mom?”
The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. “Dean.”
She walked toward you and her youngest son. “Sam.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked.
She looked at him sadly, but said nothing.
The woman turned to you last. “Thank you,” she said.
You smiled back at her, though you weren’t quite sure what she was thanking you for.
She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. “You get out of my house. And let go of my son.” Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.
“Now it’s over,” Sam muttered.
***
The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchesters’ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.
You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.
“Thanks for these,” Dean told Jenny.
“Don’t thank me, they’re yours.”
Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car. You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you weren’t brave enough to start the conversation.
“Are you okay?” Dean asked you.
You couldn’t look at him. “Why do you ask?”
“I think you know.”
You paused a moment before turning to face him. “I promise I’ll tell you, just… not today.” You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.
He chuckled at you. “What are we, five?”
“Just do it, asshole,” you smiled back.
He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.
Dean scratched his head. “Sam, you ready?” he called.
Sam nodded and came over to the car.
“Don’t you kids be strangers,” Missouri told you.
“We won’t,” Dean responded.
“See you around,” the woman winked at you.
You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away.
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural series rewrite#spn series rewrite
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BTS Dating Series #17: Pet Peeves
Members x Reader
Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff
Summary: Little things that just....annoy you or him about each other.
Warnings: None to note.
Kim Seokjin
You threw your body into a chair in the corner of your bedroom, folding your arms across your chest as Jin stared at you incredulously. The two of you had been in a somewhat heated disagreement and once you started to feel yourself becoming overwhelmed, you chose to just...stop talking in an effort to calm yourself.
"Are you really gonna not say anything else?" Jin wondered, huffing harshly when you only responded with further silence. "You know, that's another thing that you do that I hate."
"What?" You couldn't help but to ask.
"Any time we have an argument or even a hard conversation, you clam up and stop talking," he explained. "That makes it almost impossible to fix anything and it also makes me feel like some type of villain."
"Oh," you murmured, looking down at your feet. "I didn't realize that it made you feel that way. I just..."
"What?" Jin encouraged as he stepped over to you and bent down so that he was looking up at you.
"In past relationships, whenever I would get chastised or yelled at, I found that not saying anything helped to not escalate things," you admitted, finally looking up at your boyfriend. "I don't want things to escalate with you, Jin."
"Oh baby," he murmured, grabbing your hands and bringing them both up to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to them before he pulled them away to speak. "You never have to worry about that with me. Whenever we're disagreeing about something, it's never me against you. It's us against the problem, ok? It doesn't mean that I hate you or that I don't want to be with you because that would never be the case, ok?"
"Ok," you nodded. "I'm sorry for shutting down on you. I'll do my best to work on that."
"Ok," Jin agreed. "I love you."
"I love you too," you replied before leaning down and kissing him softly.
Min Yoongi
"Are you fucking serious right now?" Yoongi chuckled in disbelief and you barely spared him a glance from your spot on his living room couch. You and Yoongi had planned to spend the whole weekend together since it was one of his rare ones off. However, he got called into the studio at the last minute and had to go handle it before you two headed out on your planned date for the day.
Now, that wasn't a problem for you whatsoever because Yoongi said he'd text you when he was heading back home. One hour went by, then two hours and by the time the third hour rolled around, you were throughly pissed off. Once he did finally make it back to his apartment where he'd left you, you had become resolute in giving him the silent treatment.
"Do you know how childish you're acting right now?" Yoongi wondered. "I know that I told you it wouldn't take me long and I'm sorry that it did but you can't be this upset over that!"
"You cannot tell me what I can and cannot be upset over," you finally spoke up.
"Oh look, she speaks." You glared at him, throwing him the middle finger before you folded your arms across your chest. All Yoongi could do was groan loudly as he ran his hands over his face, becoming more irritated as time went on.
"Listen, I do not do well with the silent treatment and I hate it when you do this so if you want me to fix it, you're going to have to cooperate and talk to me or else I won't be able to," he shrugged. "Up to you." You sighed heavily then, knowing that you were being petty and that your boyfriend was right.
"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I just got upset when you took longer than you said you would. Made it feel like you forgot about me."
"I could never forget about you," he cooed, bending down so that he was squatting in front of you as he took your hands in his to hold. "I'm sorry that I didn't keep you in the loop. I'll make sure to be more mindful of that, ok?" You nodded with a smile, surging forward and throwing your arms around him in a hug.
Kim Namjoon
"If you would just listen to me, I'd be able to explain it to you!" You exclaimed angrily as you stared at Namjoon, who was standing on the other side of the island in your kitchen. The two of you had been cooking dinner together when you made what was intended to be a light hearted joke about his cooking skills. However, Namjoon didn't take it that way at all which led to a full blown argument.
"You can be so flippant when you say certain things to me, you know?" Namjoon pointed out.
"Me, flippant?" You scoffed, throwing your hands up in immediate surrender. "And on that note, I need some space." You turned around and began to walk out of the kitchen but you realized that you could hear footsteps behind you.
"And that's another thing," Namjoon snapped. "Anytime we get into an argument or fight, you insist on walking away."
"Because I need space!" You shouted as you turned around to look at him. "I literally just said that or were you not listening?"
"We're not gonna fix anything if you keep doing that."
"But we're also not going to fix anything if I can't take the space I need to calm down so that I'm not escalating the situation," you explained. "I know you wanna talk it out but just....give me a little while."
"Fine," Namjoon relented and he turned around and walked away before you even had the chance to say another word.
Jung Hoseok
"It was so good to see you!" Hobi smiled to Juhyun, who grinned widely as Hobi gave her a gentle hug.
"It was good to see you as well, Hobi," she replied before turning around and walking out of the store. Hobi walked back over to you then, where you had been pretending to browse the store's selection of shoes but you had really been eavesdropping on their conversation.
"See anything you might like?" Hobi asked you and you shrugged noncommittally, biting your lip before you decided to just take the risk and ask what was on your mind.
"Can I ask you something?" You wondered.
"Anything."
"Are you still friends with all of your exes?" You questioned and Hobi rose an eyebrow.
"Well, I don't know if friends is the word I'd really use to describe it," he began. "Even if we broke up, none of them were necessarily on bad terms or anything like that so it's not hard for me to speak to them whenever I might see them."
"Hmm," you murmured and Hobi couldn't help but to smile at you.
"Jealous?"
"Don't know if jealous is really the word I'd use," you replied, echoing his previous statement. "But it does make me feel weird that you're.....so friendly. I don't like it."
"So, should I keep it to a hi and bye?" He asked. "And no hugs?"
"That actually would be nice," you nodded.
"Done," Hobi grinned. "Now, come on. I wanted to check out another store while we're here." You smiled to yourself as Hobi grabbed your hand and led you out of the store.
Park Jimin
You were laid out in Jimin's bed, waiting for him to get home from rehearsal. You had had an extremely long day at work so needless to say, you were more than excited to see your boyfriend so that you could get all the cuddles that you could handle.
As you were browsing the internet on your laptop, you heard the front door open and close and not long after that, Jimin was pushing open the door to the bedroom.
"Hi Jimin-ssi," you greeted him happily, watching as he threw his bag down and instantly walked over to the closet.
"Hi baby," he muttered as he worked on changing out of his dance clothes and into more comfortable ones. As he did this, you closed the laptop and set it on the bedside table before you laid down on your side. Once Jimin was done changing, he walked over to the bed and laid down on his back, shutting his eyes and not saying a word.
"How was your day?" You spoke up and Jimin just shrugged, eyes still closed.
"Same old, same old."
"Did you guys finish learning the choreography to that new song you showed me?" You wondered and Jimin nodded. "Aw, I'm sure it's amazing. I can't wait to see it." Jimin still hadn't said a word and you sighed heavily. "Jimin, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he deadpanned. "I'm fine."
"Baby, you're obviously not fine," you replied gently. "I'm willing to listen if you want to talk."
"Well, I don't want to talk," he grunted. "Just leave me alone."
"You know, I was really looking forward to you getting here because I had a long day too and all I wanted was to cuddle with you but if you're going to be a jerk just because you're in a shitty mood, then I'll just go home," you snapped and just as you moved to rip the blanket off of your body, Jimin gently grabbed your arm.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It was just a hard day and I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"And that's fair that you didn't feel like talking but don't clam up on me," you murmured as you turned around to face him. "I'm here to help, always."
"I know," he smiled gently. "Come here." He opened his arms and you moved closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you as he held your body tightly to his. "I love you."
"I love you too," you whispered, smiling to yourself when you felt him kiss your forehead.
Kim Taehyung
"Oh my gosh, you know what we should do tonight?" Taehyung asked you and you looked up at him from your spot next to him on his couch. The two of you had planned on just having a date night in but apparently, Taehyung had other ideas.
"What?"
"We should get dressed and go to that new jazz club that just opened last month," he suggested and you instantly grimaced. "What is it?"
"I don't know about that," you replied. "I was kind of looking forward to staying in."
"But we've been doing that for so many weekends now," he pointed out. "It might be fun to get out, have a little change of scenery."
"Hmm, I don't think so," you shook your head and your eyes widened when you heard Taehyung sigh heavily.
"Why don't you ever want to go out?" He demanded to know. "I could probably count on one hand how often we've been out together, just to do something fun."
"I'm a homebody," you shrugged. "I've always preferred to be home to than go out to some club or something like that."
"And I fully respect that but couldn't we do it sometimes?" He suggested. "Just occasionally?"
"You know what, yeah," you agreed. "I promise, I'll try to make sure that we do more of the things you enjoy too, ok?"
"Thank you," Taehyung grinned widely before leaning over and kissing you firmly.
Jeon Jungkook
"What the hell?" You muttered as you picked pieces of clothes up off of the living room floor. "Has a man been staying with me or a fucking animal?" In an effort to spend more time together, Jungkook had been spending more time at your apartment and he had definitely made himself comfortable in your space. Maybe even a little...too comfortable.
"Baby, I have lamb skewers!" Jungkook exclaimed as he stepped through the front door of your apartment, one bag in each hand as he shut the door with his foot. He stopped right in his tracks though when he saw you standing in the middle of the living room with an unamused look on your face. "What's wrong?"
"No, the problem is what's wrong with you?" You demanded to know. "Have you never seen a hamper? Do you not know what it looks like so that you can put your clothes in it?"
"No, those are my clean clothes," he told you.
"Why are they on the floor then?"
"Because I didn't want them to get mixed up with my dirty ones," he shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why not just put the dirty in the- you know what, no," you cut yourself off. "I'm not even gonna attempt to understand male logic. Just give me my skewers, please."
"Here you go," Jungkook smiled, waiting until you had dropped the clothes in your hands before he handed one of the bags off to you. "I love you."
"Yeah yeah, love you too, messy animal," you grumbled, making Jungkook laugh out loud.
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helpful | george clarke
i just thought this was sweet, so have a little george looking after his drunk gf :3
as soon as you had said the words 'oh, it's just a casual little thing, haven't seen the girls in a while', george just knew the 'little casual thing' would end up with you plastered.
not that he minded, of course.
so when he recieved a call at one in the morning, it didn't quite surprise him. he had waited up for the 'got home safe' text, waiting patiently for you to get to your apartment safe.
"hiya, love, everything alright?" he spoke, his voice slightly thick, just coming with the fact it was a little later at night, but he wasn't too tired.
"hi george!" you giggled in response, "everything is fineee! i was just calling to see if i could come round.. was gonna uber home but then i was missing you and thought i could come pester youuu for a while," you spoke in between slight drunk hiccups.
he laughed a little down the phone in response, "sure, you can come round. you sure you're okay getting an uber, or you want me to come pick you up?" he asked, clearly a little concerned at her drunken state.
"no, no! i can uber fine, gonna share with one of my friends, just wanted to let you know before i just showed up," you murmured happily again.
"well, in future, you can show up at the flat whenever you want, you know i like your company, lovie, and i know the boys don't mind either,"
and so when half an hour later he heard stumbling through his front door, and soft laughs as he could hear her bashing herself against the wall for support, he left his bedroom, laughing at the sight of her, against the walls, trying to slip her shoes off with great struggle.
though, even plastered out of her mind, he thought she looked gorgeous.
"hey, you. need some help?" he jested slightly, and you giggled a little at the state of yourself.
"no, 'm sure i can... y'know, get em off, just these laces, who tied these damn laces?" you rambled as you slid down to the floor to try and untangle the laces that you had undoubtedly messed up earlier in the night.
george crouched down, unlacing the shoes with a lot more ease then you had, and once you had managed to pull the shoes off, you used him as a support to stand up, still giggling into the crook of his neck as you did.
"so, seems you had a good night?" he teased, and you rolled your eyes playfully with a nod.
"cocktails were two for one, so naturally i had eight," you laughed back, "don't even think 'm too drunk now, more just sleepy,"
george scoffed a little jokingly at that one, "i think you're still a little drunk, darling, but its fine. we'll get your makeup off and you into bed, hm?" he offered, and you nodded, letting him lead you into his room in the boys flat, where he had a bathroom attached.
as you stumbled through, rifling through the draw in his bathroom that had been claimed as yours for makeup remover, he laughed at the noise, before you produced it in your hands.
"i can help you take it off, if you like," george offered helpfully, and you looked at him with a drunken grin, a small nod as he gently helped you sit on the vanity, gently beginning to remove it with a damp cloth and the remover.
"thank you for being so helpful, george," you babbled out, your hands practically clasping against his arms for support as he checked to make sure all the makeup was gone.
"you've picked me up from enough pub golfs for me to owe you, trust me. plus, you know i don't mind looking after you at all," he smiled reassuringly back.
"did you eat when you were out? you want food?" he asked, but you shook your head.
"m good, got myself some drunk chips," you laughed a little, "just wanna go to sleep, to be honest,"
"thats fine, we can go to bed, don't worry, i'm just gonna get you some water, okay? you can go borrow a shirt or something to sleep in," he reassured, helping you down from the sink and watching you gently pad your way to his bed, whilst he headed into the kitchen.
when he returned, he found you, already spread on the side of his bed that had become classicly yours, in one of his shirts, head on its side on the pillow, giving him a slightly dumb smile as he placed the water on the bedside table.
"your bed always seems much comfier than mine," you murmured against the pillow, and he laughed with a shrug.
"i always thought your bed was more comfy," he said in response as he lay down, his arm going lazily to your waist, facing you as his head touched the pillow.
"yours is definitely better, it always smells like you and i like that, smells like... sweaty george," you giggled a little, and he grunted in a teasing response, rolling his eyes playfully.
the moment he was in the bed, he found it funny how you instantly curled into him, to be closer, and he pressed a small kiss against your forehead as you yawned softly.
"see? could fall asleep already, you just relax me," you murmured against his chest.
"so get some sleep then, night, love." he replied. though, he couldn't lie, the thought of him relaxing you filled his chest with a strangely warm feeling.
#george clarkey#george clarke#georgeclarkey x reader#georgeclarke x reader#george clarkey x reader#george clarke x reader
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How about WandaNat x little reader. Reader goes to the dentist and is told that sucking her thumb/her paci has ruined her teeth, so now needs braces / surgery. Next time R drops she has a massive temper tantrum when she can't self sooth. Desperate to sleep before a mission Wanda creates a paci using her magic
Soother (Wanda Nat x little reader)
(sorry this took a while, life got crazy, hopefully you like this, if you don't let me know if you want something changing and I can do that for you)
It was a day all three of you were dreading, the dentist appointment. The caregivers knew it was gonna be a hard day for you all as you hated going to the dentist. "baby, come on get dressed we have to go in an hour." You groaned pulling yourself out of bed, "I don't wanna go." You huffed giving her a pout. "I know, you've been trying to get out of it all week, but it's not happening." Natasha smirked, picking out your clothes, she loved doing it everyday, even if you weren't little. "Nat. I brush my teeth twice a day and floss, there is nothing wrong with my teeth so I don't need a dentist."
"Y/N you're not going to get out of it, if you stop whining and behave at the appointment ill buy you a treat after we are done and you can watch two movies before bed tonight." You couldn't help but smile at her proposal as you knew it was only gonna come up today." fine I'll behave but just know I'm not happy about it."
"I can live with that for an hour. It's either a slightly grumpy you or an angry wanda and right now ill take the first." As she spoke she heard wanda yelling that they were going to be late. As much as you hated going to these appointments wanda hated running late for them even more and with you and natasha it was like that most of the time. Though thanks to their driving you still always arrived early, much to your dismay.
***
"baby don't worry, I'm sure everything is going to be fine." wanda reassured, squeezing your hand. You weren't so sure. When the doctor came in your heart started racing, holding Wanda's hand was helping but not enough. You needed something else and before you knew it your hand made it's way up to your mouth. The doctor chuckled a bit which made you frown. "there's our problem." both wanda and Nat looked at you and it was only then you realised there was a whole other conversation going on between the three of them you didn't understand. You still didn't pay any attention until natasha pulled your thumb out of your mouth.
"Really? It caused all that damage?" natasha said in a worried tone, the look on her face made you want to cry. If Nat was upset clearly something was wrong.
"It's not the end of the world, we can give them some invisible braces to fix the issue. The thumb sucking, however, does need to stop." It was a sentence that made you completely freeze. You didn't like that doctor anymore, at first she seemed nice but now you weren't so sure. By the look on your caregivers face you could tell that was going to be a rule and you weren't happy about it.
"That's going to be tough. They never stop." I barely listen as he starts giving them suggestions of how to deal with my bad habit. "there are some alternatives, there is chew safe jewelry and even adult pacifiers that can help with thumb sucking and other habits. If you use them responsibly and stop when there is pain or discomfort it won't cause as much change."
"I will look into those, thank you." Wanda smiled, hoping this would be a solution to their problems. After they left the dentist y/n dropped again after getting all of their work and it soon became a constant battle to keep y/ns thumb out of their mouth. Each time they were stopped they seemed to get more and more upset, by the night Wanda and natasha were mentally exhausted from the tantrums, it got even worse when natasha got a phone call. "babe, we have to leave for a mission tomorrow. We leave early in the morning."
"There goes our plan to just let them cry it out till they fall asleep while we wait for the delivery, Im already slow in the morning, I need to sleep tonight." Natasha nodded, she of all people knew about Wandas hatred of the morning, she knew it would be a rough day if they didn't get to sleep soon. "can't you use your magic to make them sleep."
"No, I promised myself I would never use my powers on them like that." the two were interrupted by y/n dumping all their toys on the floor and crying. Wandas mind was quickly changed, but she decided to try a less forceful approach first, she conjured a pacifier similar to the one she had seen on the Internet.
She couldn't believe it when y/n took to it, their wails turned into light sniffles within a few minutes and they stopped acting out. Wanda picked them up, "there see, everything's okay. You're okay, you like the paci?" y/n nodded settling against Wanda who put them to bed, "goodnight baby sleep tight." Natasha and Wanda breathed a sigh of relief as the little went to sleep peacefully, Wanda cleaned up the mess with her magic and the two turned themselves in for the night as well.
#littleavengerfics#little reader#sfw agere#natasha romanoff#mommy natasha#mommy wanda maximoff x little reader#mommy wanda
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chapter thirty-one | bad idea, right?
the battle of the labyrinth
percy jackson x fem reader
“Talk. Just talk. I know you can do it,” you said quietly. You grit your teeth together, lips pressed so firmly they almost hurt, smiling with irritance. You leaned in close to the hippie mummy chilling in the attic, trying not to pay too much attention to the musty smell up this close. “Look, we don’t want any surprises this year. Just tell me what I’ve got coming my way and I’ll leave you alone.”
The Oracle was motionless, sitting stiffly, as if you hadn’t breathed down her neck for the last thirty minutes interrogating.
You moved back, gesturing to her. The sheer disbelief you felt was unmatched. “I don’t believe this. I don’t believe you. So, what, you just tell me shit I don’t want to hear when I don’t need it but when I steal over a thousand dollars, what? Nothing?”
Not even a twitch.
You scoffed, and dropped the old tea towel on the floor. You had found it in a cupboard, when rifling through them this morning in search of a good weapon. You didn’t have the energy to go make a sword in the armory, and maybe a relic from the past could give you some luck. Some heroes had done well on their quests once upon a time and had to have left something behind, right? Upon a lack of weapon-finding, you eyed the figure at your shoulder, and had a thought.
A half hour later, you were just angrier than you started.
You turned back to the oracle, pointing your finger firmly in her direction. “You’re a joke. I hope you know that. I could get more information from a rock.“
Huffing, you set off down the narrow staircase and all the way back down to the main room. Chiron and Mr. D were doing some sort of nattering over a game at the small table when you came strolling through, hoping to avoid conversation.
Because, jeez, you’d just turned fifteen. You barely wanted to talk to anyone these days. Your cabin counselor had explained to you—in the midst of an emotional outburst—that it was just hormones. You angrily told her she could shove her hormones up her ass.
“Find anything useful?” Chiron spoke briefly.
“I could make a rock bleed before that thing told me anything. Why is nothing going my way?!”
And for goodness sake, was the sun extra burny today or were you just burning for the fun of it? It felt like your skin was peeling off, and the urge to dunk yourself in the lake grew more appealing by the second. Percy’s birthday was only days away, yours having passed exactly a month prior to his, on July 27th.
Your shorts chafed, making that irritating sound and the sweat under your arms that your shirt absorbed made the want to scream grow by the millisecond. Feeling your sock sliding down in your shoe was the last straw.
Out on the porch, Travis ripped up pieces of grass and littered them. At your appearance, he went to swing his arm around your shoulders.
“Don’t touch me!”
And, god love him, Travis didn’t.
He just laughed. “Calm down! You look—”
You turned to him with a tight jaw. Over the past months, Travis had reached a height you couldn’t believe, nearing 5’11. He let his hair grow out into a curly mass of soft chocolate.
He swallowed back what is what he was just about to say.
“I’m sweating,” you seethed. “It’s too hot. And my sock—is—falling,” you ripped your shoe off, yanking your sock up, “down.”
Sweaty shoe in hand, you turned and stormed off. Halfway down the hill, the other shoe came off, and the feel of them tapping against your thigh, held by the laces, was going to send you over the edge.
Travis blinked. His hands, freckled and golden, hovered unsurely.
“Hey—wait for me!” He called.
Briefly, his footsteps grew louder until the boy walked at your side—or, rather, paced. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Since your outburst after the quest in the winter, Travis had made it clear that he was there if you wanted to talk, and had on multiple occasions coaxed you into talking the problems out. It was like your current anger didn’t matter to him, or how easily upset you were lately. Your stomach had been killing for days, today worst of all. You knew what was on its way. On and off for years you’d gotten used to growing in all the ways all girls unfortunately had to. You just wished everything would stop and slow down.
“We have archery this afternoon,” Travis tried cautiously. You hummed. “If that’s something you’re up for.”
“I’m up for throwing myself into the lake,” you retorted. As you grew closer to it, it looked even more appealing.
“Right. Yeah. If that’ll make you feel better—”
“Travis, just, stop!” Your hands flew around so violently you almost hit yourself with your shoes. Travis’s concern made your heart swell, but the extra attention made you feel uneasy. “Please just—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Okay? I’m just hot and sweaty and oh my god I smell of sweat and I’m starving and—”
Yeah. It was time for a detour.
“I’m going back to the cabin.”
Long story short, by dinner time, you’d calmed down somewhat. A cold shower, a frustrated cry, and a laugh with Annabeth about frying pans, and everything was right again.
Being a girl was exhausting.
The next week, you were heading into Manhattan to check out a new school, with Percy.
“Bro,” Percy called down from the fire escape. You grinned up at him. “Mom wants to know if you want stuffed crust or normal.”
“Is both an option?”
“You read my mind.”
The Jackson apartment in Manhattan sat in a relatively peaceful street. The occasional car horn, a few loud talkers on the street below. Sally Jackson braided your hair. Percy ate a slice of your pizza. And you nearly wrestled one another down the staircase the next morning, but you made it to the car in one place, backpacks at the ready for a new year.
A better year.
Just a trial day, at Paul Blofis’s school. If it went well, and you wanted to go back to traditional schooling, Sally had made it clear you were more than welcome to go with them. To stay with them.
“You’re always welcome here,” she placed a hot chocolate down in front of you, the night before. Her eyes were soft. I understand, they said. I’ve felt it, too.
For once, you could breathe. A smile, a relieved nod. “I know.”
Months from that moment, you’ll sit at a polished dining table, lighting Finney’s birthday candles. There will be ice cream and sunshine, and an innate nervousness that disappears. Rachel will hold his other hand, and Percy Jackson, freshly sixteen, will smile at you, and everything will be right in the world.
But now—
Sally Jackson tapped her fingers on the wheel. She wore a pretty blue dress (which you’d helped her pick out) and heels, ready for a job interview.
Percy, in the passenger seat, looked a little troubled. You watched his dark brows knit together. “You haven’t told Paul about me, have you?”
Sally paused. “I thought we should wait until after orientation.”
“So we don’t scare him off.”
“It’ll be fine, Percy.” She reached across for his cheek, affectionately patting him. Percy rolled his eyes. “It’s just orientation. And after that, the two of you are going for ice cream, right?”
“Too damn right.”
Percy’s cheeks flamed pink. You grinned wickedly, relishing in his discomfort.
Sally smiled, looking at you in the rear view mirror for a second. “And then tomorrow, you’ll be back in camp.”
It wasn’t as if Percy despised camp, but it was obvious he much preferred to be home. The last week at their house, you’d felt that way, too. Sally Jackson had created a warm, comforting environment for her son, and in welcoming you to their mix, had treated you just like she would a daughter, not just her son’s friend.
Fifteen—a funny age for all.
You’d witnessed Percy’s growth, too. His hair had only grown messier, and thicker (Sally had to beg him for a hair cut). His voice had deepened a little more, and he’d grown about six inches (you measured before you left camp). Almost unfairly, his eyelashes even seemed to get longer, and his eyes remained the prettiest shade of blue-green you ever did see.
Sally stopped just outside the school, red-bricked and tall, facing the morning sun. Already, at this hour, it buzzed with life.
Percy got out of the car.
You got out of the car.
Sally drove away.
And you made eye contact with something that made your skin crawl.
Your shoulders sagged. “Already?!”
“You saw it too?”
“Yup.”
Percy heaved a great sigh. “Fantastic.”
“Come on,” you grabbed his arm. “Let’s just go and have a good day while we can.”
Your friend side-eyed you curiously. “You’re…strangely optimistic this morning.”
Yeah. Because the worst part of the month was finally over.
You smiled cheerfully, practically skipping up the steps. “That’s because it’s sunny and it’s good and it’s going to be a good day.”
Your friend gave a solid salute, earning himself a smack on the arm and a smile. Shaking off the bad feeling, up the steps you went. Percy abruptly stopped and pulled on your arm, a terrified look on his face.
“Oh, come on, now—”
“How about we find a side entrance?” He flailed, cheeks flaming bright strawberry. You frowned.
“Percy, what?”
Wrist in his hand, Percy’s strong grip pulled you along, round the side of the building and through an open door, where two cheerleaders were waiting, in purple and white uniforms.
“Hi!” They blinded with their bright smiles simultaneously. Percy gawped like a fish. You elbowed him in the ribs. The one on the left, tall, pretty, African American with curly hair, the one on the right, also tall, pretty, with the blonde ponytail. You scanned them quickly over with your eyes, feeling uneasy still, but tried to pass it off as first day jitters.
“Welcome to Goode High School,” the blonde said. “You’re going to love it.”
Ooooooh. Alarm bells began to ring.
It could have been her attitude. It might have been their intimidating demeanour. But most of all, it was the smell of washed horses. The smell of the camp stables. Unless these girls had come fresh from a riding lesson in Manhattan (which you highly doubted—you’d already tried to get one) they should not have smelled as such.
“What are your names, de—freshmen?” The curly-haired girl stepped so close you thought she was going to push you down the stairs.
“Uh, I’m Percy.”
The blonde giggled. It sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, Percy Jackson, have we been waiting for you!”
Yeah. Time to go.
“Code red,” you hissed, turning and looking around shortly to make it discreet. “Code red!”
Percy didn’t move. They turned on you.
“You look familiar!” The blonde girl smiled. “I think I’ve met your mother.”
Laughing awkwardly, you shot a finger gun anxiously her way. “See... No. You definitely haven’t. But anyway, we should be going now, right, Percy?”
You watched his hand pull out his sword in pen-form from the pocket of his jeans, stepping back slightly from the cheerleaders. It was at this moment, Paul Blofis made an appearance, saving the day.
“Hey, guys!” He smiled, bounding up the steps behind you. In his teacher’s shirt and pants, tie done smartly, he was the epitome of welcoming. That kind smile, those warm, shining eyes, said it all. Percy was a lucky guy to have a man like Paul around, even if he’d been seeing Sally for only a few months. “Good to see you’re both here! Why don’t you go on in and we’ll figure out where to go first?”
In his rush to move past the cheerleaders (you’d taken the slow-breaths-and-calm-movement approach), Percy pushed past the blonde cheerleader. Her paper name tag, so loosely stuck on her shirt, floated to the ground: Tammi. Percy’s knee struck her calf, and—
CLANG. The sound of pure metal.
All you wanted was a simple life.
“Ow,” she murmured. “Watch it, fish.”
You murmured an Australian-sounding ‘ah, shi—’ when Paul Blofis popped up beside you. He clapped his hands together, kind eyes going from you to your friend.
“Welcome to Goode! Everything alright, guys? Percy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Before said boy could stutter his way into trouble, you raised a hand and gently slapped his cheek, playfully. Paul grinned.
“He’s just nervous,” you explained. Paul ‘ah’d, and clapped Percy on the back.
“I get that, but don’t worry. We get a lot of kids here with ADHD and dyslexia. The teachers know how to help.”
Percy nodded his head, shaking his too-long hair.
“So, where to first?” Asked Paul.
“Could we check out the literature stuff? I kind of wanna go there. What do you think?”
Percy’s red face had reappeared.
You shook your head, pulled a face. “Dude, what’s going on?”
“Where’s the fun stuff? Like, the gym?” He rambled quickly.
Following his line of sight, standing down the hall by the main doors, was a skinny, wild-haired girl.
You gasped like you’d never done so before, so loud it scratched your throat. But the shock was very real. You felt your jaw drop.
Rachel. Elizabeth. Dare.
Percy yanked on your wrist so firmly the gasp cut off violently, yanking you down the hall in a run.
“The day just gets worse!” You exclaimed. “First, monsters. And now her!”
“Just—forget she’s here!”
“Forget about it?! She’ll be looking for us, no doubt!”
During your excursions last season, you’d ran into Rachel Elizabeth Dare purely by coincidence, a mortal with the Sight. Instantly you hated her and her over-exaggerated passion for the arts. And, more importantly, you hated her obvious crush on Percy. It wasn’t one-sided, however—she’d made it pretty obvious that she hated you, too. So it was equal. And you didn’t feel bad.
Barrelling into the gym, you pulled Percy to a stop.
“All I want,” you breathed, “is a normal life. That means one without Rachel Dare or monsters at every corner.”
Percy blew his fringe away from his eyes. “You and me both,” he panted.
Banners hung on every breezeblock wall of the gym, and little groups of teens clumped here and there. A marching band stopped playing abruptly. A hand fell to your shoulder; on the defence, you shoved yourself away quickly. The girl’s hand fell.
“What are you doing here?” She stropped.
“What does it look like, Ronald—”
“Hey!” Percy cut in, smiling with his teeth clenched. “Rachel Elizabeth Dare!”
Her jaw dropped, green eyes moving from you to Percy and back again. “You’re Percy…somebody. I didn’t get your full name last year when you, oh, you know, tried to kill me.”
“The only attempt on your life was those jeans—”
“Ohhh-kay,” Percy pushed you aside. “What are you doing here, Rachel?”
She took a breath, gestured to the hall. “Same as you, I guess. Orientation.”
“You live here? In New York?”
She pulled a face. “You thought I lived at the Dam?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
Percy practically tweaked on the spot. He slowly turned his head and made a sudden move of bugging his eyes to you, a gesture to say shut up, man.
Amidst the talking, you hadn’t noticed the groups of people get together to stand with the three of you near the bleachers. Somebody behind you hissed a ‘shh’.
So you did it right back.
“The cheerleaders are talking!” He defended. “Shut up!”
“Oh, big whoop!”
“Dude, for once, I’m begging you, now is not the time.”
“Tell that to Ronald McDonald.”
“Hi, guys!” A bubbly cheer came from the front centre hall. The blonde cheerleader, Tammi, smiled a pearly white flash. “I’m Tammi, and this is, like, Kelli.” In a flurry of perfect timing, Kelli did a one-handed cartwheel.
You weren’t jealous, or anything.
Behind you, Rachel yelped. You wondered just weirder this girl could get.
Until she suddenly said, “Run.”
And you figured now was as good a time as any to follow her direction, when Tammi looked you dead in the eye.
“Why?” Percy called, dumbly.
“Y’know, just this once I’m gonna follow Ronald.”
Rachel pushed her way to the front with Percy and yourself following close behind. Tammi and Kelli were halfway through explaining how the school was going to form small groups and tour different parts of the building.
In a music room down the quiet hall, devoid of any other students, you found Rachel crouching behind a giant drum set.
“Hey, this is nice—!”
Rachel yanked on your shirt sleeve and hissed, “Idiot! Get down! Did they see you?”
You eyed her hand on your sleeve. “This is Wet Seal—”
“I don’t think so,” Percy gasped for breath like a fish out of water. “What are they? Did you see?”
For the first time, you settled down and listened to what Rachel had to say. Her eyes were bright with caution—afraid to say out loud what might sound crazy to the wrong people. But you and Percy were the right people.
“You…wouldn’t believe me.”
“Believe us, there’s nothing we haven’t seen. You can see through the Mist.”
“The what?”
“Mist. It’s like a veil between our world and the normal. Except for those among us like us, the veil blends out. You can see through it.”
Something like recognition flashed through Rachel’s eyes. “At Hoover Dam,” she breathed slowly. “You called me a mortal. Like…you’re not. You see through the Mist. You saw through the Mist. Tell me. You know what it means! Tell me why I see all these horrible things.”
Empathy did not come alongside your viewings of Rachel Elizabeth Dare. This time, for the first and only time, you accepted it.
“You’re not crazy. You don’t need meds. You’re definitely not schizophrenic. D’you know anything about the Greek myths?”
“Like the Minotaur? And the Sirens?”
Percy nodded. The screech of a shoe on polished floor came from a way down the hall. “Yeah. Just try not to say those names when we’re around.”
“And the Furies, and the Hydra—!”
Percy hushed her amusedly. “Yeah, yeah! Okay. All those monsters, the Greek gods, they’re real.”
“I knew it!” She shrieked. “You don’t know how hard it’s been!”
“Try us.”
“For years I thought I was going crazy, I couldn’t tell anyone. They’d send me to some wilderness school somewhere.”
You couldn’t help the embarrassed giggle. “Yeah. You were right there. That place ain’t it.”
“Wait.” She frowned suddenly. “Who are you two? I mean really.”
“Not monsters.”
“Well I know that. I could see if you were. You look normal. But you’re not human exactly, are you. Either of you.”
Percy slung a heavy arm around your shoulder, raising his hand to pat your face. “We’re half-bloods. Half human, half god.”
Just then, Tammi and Kelli shoved the music room door open, and strutted in like they were walking for Victoria’s Secret. Your head spun to them.
Tammi gushed. “Oh, wow! There you guys are! You’re missing your orientation!”
“Purposefully,” you smiled. “Take a hint, Tammi.”
Rachel had whitened and gasped. “They’re horrible.”
“Oh, forget her.” Tammi waved. Kelli blocked the doors, while Tammi sauntered over.
“Percy…” Rachel warned.
“Uhhhhhh—”
Come on brain, think of something! Anything useful, mom!
It was right in front of your face: the drum cymbal. The metal, circular thing with a cellotaped sticker across its bronze surface.
“Guys!”
You reached behind you for Percy’s jacket and dug your hand around in there, trying to get a hold of his sword in pen form. It didn’t take long, and upon uncapping it, it instantly transformed into Riptide. Percy didn’t object. And his sword fit perfect in your hands.
“This is our school,” Tammi giggled disgustingly. she neared so close you had the tip of Riptide at the hallow between her collarbones. An instant passing. “We feed on who we choose.”
Her true image flickered.
“A vampire!” Rachel gasped.
Percy hummed, rising to stand behind you. “With…furry legs?”
“Don’t mention the legs!” Tammi snapped sensitively. “It’s very rude!”
She advanced on her furry legs. It would have been funny, did she lack the scarlet eyes and fangs so sharply pointed.
Kelli laughed from the doorway. “A vampire, you say? Silly demigods. That legend was based on us. We are empousai, the servants of Hecate.”
Out of nowhere, Rachel flung her arm back and launched a drumstick at Kelli, hitting her in the eye. She practically growled in anger and turned on Rachel instantly.
“We don’t usually kill girls,” she ground out. “But for you, I’ll make an exception! Your eyesight is a little too good!” Kelli clicked her fingers, and Tammi pounced.
Girl code applied here. Riptide to the rescue. You shifted forward and raised Riptide above your head, swinging the sharp sword down across Tammi’s head. Her eyes flashed and her mouth snarled and the set of pincer-sharp teeth came your way. Before her teeth met your skin, she burst into gold shimmer and shiny flecks. She exploded all over you and Rachel. You wrinkled your nose while Rachel coughed and gagged, the both of you covered in monster dust.
Kelli shrieked furiously, like Regina George. “You killed my trainee! You need a lesson in school spirit, half-blood!”
“You’re a shit teacher,” you shrugged. “What can I say?”
Kelli began to change. And by change, you meant absolutely turn inside out, the other way around, back to front. Not. Right. Her hair turned to flickering, orange flames, the heat prominent on your face. Her eyes turned scarlet and her teeth grew sharp like Tammi’s did. She loped forward. You shifted back into Percy, and held his sword out to the side, shifting Rachel back too from her shocked stance.
“I am a senior empousa,” she laughed spitefully. “No hero has bested me in over a thousand years.”
You swallowed hard. “Huh. Then I guess you’re long overdue.”
Kelli pounced at you, and Rachel screamed. Percy yelled some profanity behind you; there was a loud crash of a drum bass and a terrible tearing sound. You wrestled with Kelli for a solid few seconds, well aware that you still had a grip on Percy’s weapon. The worst part of being a half-blood—having no choice in fighting monsters like Kelli. It’s annoying, having no choice. It makes you angry. And not just at yourself, but the gods, who with their power, could probably just eradicate the whole of Kelli’s species in the flick of a wrist.
Kelli fawned. “Aw,” she cooed. “That’s such a cute little blade! I think you should give it back to its owner.”
The Mist is strong here. It had never fully fooled you; having seen things that weren’t supposed to there since you could form proper sentences. You’ve always seen through it, a blessing and a curse. Here, though, something stronger is at play and Kelli’s form is flickering between her true self and a cheerleader.
She laughed. “Poor girl, you don’t even know what’s happening! Your camp is going up in flames pretty soon, you should know. You’ll all be slaves to the Lord of Time, and there’s nothing you can do about it! I’d be doing you a favour, ending your lives!”
Laughter echoed down the hall; the group from the gym must be starting their orientation. Kelli tilted her head, hearing it too. “Great! We’re going to have company!” She pounced at you, forcing you to roll out of the way. Percy’s sword lay on the ground between he and Kelli, as Rachel helped you to your feet. Percy kept his eyes on the empousa, crouching to pick up his weapon.
Kelli’s face changed dramatically from terrorising to terror. She screamed a gut-wrenching sound. The voices in the hall grew quiet.
“Somebody!” She yelled with fake fear. “Help me!”
Only the gods knew what it looked like to mortals. The band room door swung open, and teachers flooded in, students standing in the hall with gaping mouths. Percy, sword in his hand pointed at Kelli, who at this point had tears streaming down her face.
Paul Blofis shook his head and held his hand out to Percy. “Percy…what’s?…”
He dropped his hand ever-so-slightly. And Kelli burst into flames. Waves of the fire spread too quickly across everything, dark plumes of smoke hastily developing. Paul stepped back, ushering the kids away. “What have you done?” He shook his head.
Kids screamed and began to run about like headless chickens. The teachers were screaming for backup through their walkies. Rachel pushed you to Percy.
“Go!” She yelled. “You’ve got to leave before they send backup. Go!”
Percy escaped through the open band room window, sprinting away through an alley. You had no choice but to follow him. Already, sirens were getting closer. You dove into the nearest cab, whose driver didn’t even question where you came from. Percy breathed deeply as he spouted the address of Half-Blood Hill, Long Island.
Percy’s side door flung open just before the car could leave, revealing the disheveled-looking Rachel Dare. She thrust a piece of paper in Percy’s hands.
“I need to know more. About all of this. About what’s happening. Call me. Now go, I’ll deal with this.”
She slammed the door shut. You blinked at Percy, collapsing into the seat.
“Well. That was a terrible idea.”
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f.g.w. | Trouble
Summary: After the war, Fred met Y/N at St Mungo's Hospital. At that time, they both thought the other was trouble. In the end, they both discovered all the meanings of that word.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!healer!reader
Warnings: Mention of death and near death experience, injuries, blood, probably incorrect medical notions, some swearing, happy ending
Word Count: 5.1k
Masterlist
“Uh-oh”, George said, practically running from the front of the store up to the cashier counter. “Trouble.”
His twin brother had no time to ask what was going on; the doorbell rang, indicating a new customer had entered the shop. Fred blinked and suddenly, George was somehow nowhere to be seen. Steady steps coming up to the register resonated in the boutique that was as usual quite empty on this Tuesday morning. No need for him to look to the front door, he knew he was indeed up for trouble.
Turning to face his worst nightmare - a woman named Y/N, furiously making her way to him - Fred put his best customer face on. Her face was wearing the same frown as the day he met her at Saint Mungo's Hospital. He, that day, had been called in after some kid had used one of his products out of its original purpose and nobody there could work out how to reverse back the spell.
Holding his breath, Fred watched her walking toward him until she made it to the counter and laid on it what seemed to have been one of these kid magic wands they sold at the store. From the state of it, Fred knew he was in for a lecture… Again.
“This was up someone’s arse.”
“Godric!” Fred immediately shouted. He had seen a lot of things - their customers were somehow as inventive as they were - but he had never expected such things. With a swift move of his wrist, he made it disappear. “How did it even get there?”
“I did not ask!” she shouted back.
Y/N had been an official graduated healer for nearly a year now. She had started her curriculum the year before the war started, just after graduating from Hogwarts, and sometimes after a twenty-four-hours shifts like the one she just had, she was regretting the black magic spells injuries. Nothing compared to the lot of injuries she was dealing with from the twins jokes shop products.
“Seriously, please just-” she sighed, passing a hand on her face out of frustration. “It��s all I deal with all day, I can’t anymore.”
In that last year, Fred and she had become some kinds of acquaintances - Y/N was regularly paying the twins a visit at the end of her shifts. Though he acted annoyed most of the time, he was actually quite fond of her. His favourite thing about her was how she would respond to anything he would throw at her. He did not even know her that long, yet he already knew just how to push her buttons.
So, of course, he couldn’t resist doing it again today.
“You should see what we have in the works, then.”
Frown quite not leaving the lines of her face yet, she followed him in the back shop where he meticulously explained her all about this very new product he had thought about that same morning – a new invention that not even George knew about it.
Biting his inner cheek, he watched impatiently the line between her eyebrows grew even deeper as she read the parchment with the ingredients for the product: a potion. This was not the first time he had pitched a new product idea to her. In the past, George had even insisted they presented her with some of their riskier ideas. She had never turned down any of them, even encouraging them to work on them further - though she had them promise to send a patronus to her if they were testing anything she thought would be deadly. Fred was convinced that, despite her grumpy attitude, she actually quite enjoyed being asked for help.
“You can’t mix this quantity of octopus powder and erumpent horn together,” she finally spoke.
“Why not?”
Y/N looked back at Fred, her eyes scanning his face to know if he was being serious. As if he ever had been serious. “Have you seriously never listened to anything Snape ever taught you?” Quite frankly, he had listened to it much more than he would admit, but he wouldn’t tell her that. “I am serious, Fred,” she scowled.
“Alright, alright!” Fred rose his hands in defence. He knew from the way Y/N sighed that her concern for his own physical integrity was genuine. Just like probably everyone else, she was aware of what had happened to him during the battle of Hogwarts – he had a severe brain injury that left him in the hospital for months and from which he was still recovering. Unlike anyone else, she didn’t remind him constantly what a little fragile thing he was and how he must be taking it easy. Though he probably wouldn’t admit it to her face, he was grateful to her.
Fred was rather interested on what she was thinking of his new idea, so he knew better than to continue annoying her. She made him nervous taking her sweet time to examine the parchment. He couldn’t tell if it was a bad thing or not. She had been more enthusiastic when George and he pitched her other ideas. Perhaps he had just gotten himself overexcited about this new product; perhaps it was just bad.
“So, what do you think?” Fred asked when he couldn’t take it anymore.
“It sounds good,” she reassured him, without looking at him. “It’s the ingredients I am not sure about. I’m not sure it would work,” she mumbled, still focus on the parchment, and Fred could nearly see the cogs of her brain working behind her eyes.
“I’ll work on this,” he assured.
Y/N only nodded in answer. Fred could see something was bugging her, but she couldn’t quite tell what. He studied the expression of her face; how her frown had changed – from the grumpy one to one of concentration. He noticed how she would scrunch her nose ever so slightly as she focused as well.
He thought she looked cute like that and immediately slapped himself internally for having such thoughts. Y/N was not cute, she was the pain in his ass that would show up every other day at the shop to lecture him. She was simply annoying and way smarter than him though she was not one to rub it in everybody’s face – he was pretty sure she had been that person to cry after a test as she supposedly failed, but still got an ‘A’.
They stayed in silence a couple more minutes, Y/N still trying to figure out what was missing in the potion recipe, Fred watching her every move, before the doorbell rang again. A new customer had come in, breaking the spell.
“I have to go,” Y/N stated, after checking the time. She gave the parchment back to Fred and watched as he abandoned him on top of his messy desks – it was so messy she wasn’t sure he would be able to find it again. “Just put some kinds of warning for the other thing.”
“External use only, got it.”
She rolled her eyes, but still smiled softly before bidding goodbye and leaving him alone in the back shop.
A few weeks later, on one of the last days of January, Fred had just finished the grant post-holidays inventory when he found the parchment again. With the rush of the end of the year, he had totally forgotten about it.
Diagon Alley was covered in snow at that time of the year and the weather was so bad that no soul would have dared to put even a toe outside in the cold. He knew he wouldn’t have any customers today, so he decided to put his time to a better use and test out this new product.
He gathered all of the ingredients from the reserve and got to work. Everything went well until it was down to the last ingredient: Octopus Powder. Taking the bag and measuring the exact amount he needed, he suddenly recalled the conversation he had with Y/N and how she insisted this amount of Octopus Powder would be too dangerous. He had heard her concern, yet he was still sure it was going to be fine.
Just before adding it to the mix, he finally had second thoughts; just in case, it wouldn't hurt to have a patronus ready. So, he reached out for his wand and materialized a patronus, requesting for it to find Y/N if anything was to happen to him. With his patronus magpie on his shoulder, he didn’t even think twice this time and poured the entire amount of powder in his cauldron. The mixture started boiling quite aggressively and Fred braced himself for it to explode, but nothing happened.
When the boiling stopped, his only thought was that he just couldn’t wait to tell Y/N how wrong she had been– though he wouldn’t admit it to her, but he still had sighed out of relief everything went fine. He turned to his patronus, ready to dismiss it as everything was fine.
He had barely taken his eyes off the potion that it suddenly exploded; his body was thrown into the air as if he was a paper doll.
“Can you tell me your name?”, Y/N asked as she made Fred follow the light coming out of her wand. He had been awake from the coma following his accident for a good thirty minutes now.
“Fredrick Gideon Weasley.”
Y/N nodded, watching him as she made another back-and-forth movement with her hand. Pupillary response to light, checked. Pupillary response to the dark, checked. Equal pupils’ size, checked. She was mentally ticking every part of the post-concussion protocol she knew by heart; everything so far seemed to be normal.
Yet, she could still feel her heart beating furiously in her chest. She had experienced utter panic when his patronus found her, something she had never felt before – even during the darkest time of the war. She had been one of the first to apparate within the shop and found him in what was left of their workshop. She had heard his troubled breathing under the bits of stones, wood and plasterboard, and for one split second, she had thought she would never hear him tease her ever again. She still could feel how his mother, Molly, grabbed at her once she got to Saint Mungo's Hospital, as if she was a lifebuoy. How would she have liked to let her know everything would be alright at that time, but she herself couldn’t even trust her words.
It had been a long couple of days before Fred finally woke up. She had stayed with him during all of her breaks. She had made sure his family was alright and that they had all the food they needed without leaving his side. All while she, on the other side, ate very little – her stomach was in knots from the worry. Even if she tried, Y/N couldn’t shake the memories out of her head. The image of a very blank unconscious Fred covered in blood was there, printed on the back of her eyelids, every single time she closed her eyes, so she didn’t sleep either.
That night, his family had finally left his side after a lot of convincing from Y/N that everybody would feel better after a good night of sleeps in their own bed. As she was just coming in to check his vitals yet again, she had found him there, eyes wild open. She knew she shouldn’t be treating one of her acquaintances, but she was one of the few healers on call that night and she only couldn’t care less anyway. He was alive. That was all that matters.
Putting away her wand, she thought of what was next on the protocol and continued: “When were you born?”
“First of April, nineteen-seventy-eight.”
“What were-”
“I know the deal,” Fred sighed, he had already been there after all. He knew she was just going to ask him stupid questions to make sure he had no memory lost; he could at least save them the trouble. “I’ve got four brothers, a twin brother, a sister. I left Hogwarts before even graduating to open a joke shop with my brother. ‘Been doing that twenty-four seven ‘til now. I’ve mixed Octopus Powder and Erumpent horn, hence I ended up here.”
Y/N eyed him, a stern look on her face as she realised what caused his accident. After they had found Fred, they tried understanding what happened. If they had gathered that he was preparing a potion, they weren’t sure what really had caused an explosion. Never had she thought about their earlier conversation a couple of months ago.
“And you can go ahead and tell me I told you so.”
She kept silent, not knowing what to say. She was angry with him still doing what she had explicitly warned him about – mixing this quantity of those two ingredients. She – and probably everyone he knew – had had the scare of their life. But lecturing him now wouldn’t change the outcome. The good thing was that he had been clever enough to send a patronus, so he had been found in time. It could have been way – way – worse.
Not trusting her words, she made him tilt his head so she could have a proper look at the bandage wrapped around his head. His wound had not bled since the last time the dressing was changed, which was also good thing. He had woken up and was talking. He didn’t have any memory loss and was responsive to all neurological exams. He was going to be alright, she tried to reassure herself. Everything was going to be alright.
“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” she spoke softly as she helped him to settle back comfortably in the bed and tucking him in under the covers. He grimaced when one of her hands brushed his side, but immediately gave her a reassuring smile when he saw the way her body stiffen. If he was not in any pain, he was definitively uncomfortable. His condition was much worse than he thought it was.
“How bad is it?”
“You hit your head pretty badly, broke a couple of bones and were unconscious for a more than two days now.” She explained quickly. “Considering your history, they want to keep you a couple of days to monitor any brain injuries.”
“Just great,” he sank into his pillows. When he had thought he had seen the hospital enough for his entire lifetime, here he was again. It had taken him months to learn again to do anything by himself and he did fell as if he wasted a lot of his life in the hospital getting treatment. His whole family dynamic had shifted around him and though he liked them all very much, he had just become fed up with them all eventually. And now, it was like going back to square one and starting all over. He couldn’t let that happen.
Y/N eyed him sternly, clearly judging his attitude. Whatever lucky star he was born under, he should rather be thanking it. Not everybody would survive two major head injuries. Not everyone had a family willing to keep watch over him for two days straight…
Checking the time, Y/N realized it was already time to get back to work. She was much more relieved to go and leave him knowing he was awake, talking and had a good chance of being out of the woods. She tucked him in the bed a little more tightly, making sure he couldn’t escape the sheets before starting to leave.
“You scared the hell out of your mom,” she stated, eyeing him and his grumpy expression. “I’m going to send her an owl. You better get some sleep; they’ll be here first thing in the morning.”
“Y/N?” Fred called after her. She stopped at the door, hand on the handle, only turning her head to him. “Thank you.”
“Did my mom make you check on me?” Fred asked Y/N, who was currently checking out the shelves of their love potions. He was glad she finally decided to be an actual customer for once, but she should have chosen any other section; this one was only ever visited by fourteen-years-old teenagers.
“What? No!” She nearly shouted, face growing hot. Fred eyed her with a knowing look and a smirk, she was definitively a bad liar. “Maybe a little. But in my defence, she is a very persuasive woman.”
Fred laughed softly; that he would know. The last time he saw her – and it was less than forty-hours ago, she had made him eat two servings of her pasta gratin as, according to her own words, he was skinnier than ever. Fred was pretty sure his weight was stable, but he still happily obliged. He knew when to choose his battle now and this wasn’t one.
“You don’t have to, you know,” he spoke as he leant against the shelf, crossing his arms, as Y/N continued to pretend she was interested in those shiny purple vials. “Promise I’ll listen now when you say not to mix up stuff.”
“I bet you would,” she snorted lightly. She had seen him in the hospital in the next days after he was out of the coma, and she had seen him those last few weeks when he was obliged to rest. It hadn’t been easy, and Y/N would lie if she didn’t say she had found him so miserable every time she had visited. She knew he had learned his lesson this time. “I don’t mind anyway. Unless… you know? You do mind…”
“No!” He cried out and cleared his throat after he realized how loud – and a bit desperate – he had been. “No, I don’t mind,” he repeated again, his voice much softer this time.
“Cool, cool,” Y/N answered, not daring to meet his eyes.
“It would be hm… That would make…”
Y/N frowned as she took her eyes off the WonderWitch products shelves she was still investigating while Fred had gone to help a customer - whatever moment they just had was long gone.
She observed Fred struggled to perform a simple addition for the customer that was buying two packs of fireworks. He was stuttering and couldn’t put together a full sentence; it was clear something was wrong. And with his history, it could be very bad.
She decided to step in to help him. Fred let her push him ever so slightly on his left so she could take his place behind the counter and handle the customer as if nothing was happening.
“That would make 10 galleons, Sir,” She accepted his coins and put them in the cash register with a swift movement of her wrist just like she had seen Fred do a hundred times before. “And for the pretty lady, we’ve always got lollipops under the counter. No funny business, they are cherry flavoured. What do you say?”
The little girl gave a look at her father before accepting the lollipops Y/N was handing her. She thanked her in the cutest way and Y/N would have liked to interact with her more if she wasn’t pressed by time.
“Thank you for shopping with us, have a lovely afternoon,” she smiled at them. She watched them turn to leave and immediately reached out to Fred to lead him into the back shop. “Alright, sit down.”
She helped him sit down on his office chair before having a full look at him. His eyes were groggy, and he was as white as a sheet - at least even more so than he usually was.
“How is the head?” Y/N inquired; her infamous frown had made its way back on her forehead.
“It hurts,” he mumbled; he seemed to be ashamed of it – as if he could do anything about it.
Y/N’s mind was running through all the medical explanations.
This could be the symptom of a brain swelling, but the trauma was weeks ago so it wasn’t most likely, and they would have caught up on it already.
It could be the beginning of a stroke, a part of his brain that stopped working for no reason. His mouth didn’t warp, and he seemed to be able to move his body correctly. He was still able to speak as well and had no facial paralysis. So, she crossed that option out.
He could also just be tired, which would make sense since he was already fully back to work only weeks after he had been cleared and despites his healers order to keep it low. Magic or not, bodies still needed time to heal. “I think it’s time for a little break, yes?”
Y/N went to fetch Lee to cover for Fred. She then managed to get the redhead up the tiny stairs and to the flat he shared with his twin brother just above the shop. He crashed on his couch, eyes sleepy, and Y/N went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and something to eat. The fridge was empty, but she managed to find some biscuits in the cupboard and make them tea.
“I don’t even know why I am surprised there is no food in this fridge,” she told him as she handed him a cup.
“Don’t even need it when everybody is showing up at my door with dinner. They are just passing by, they say. With a plate of lasagna or a pie. You folks need to start lying better than that.”
“They care about you,” Y/N spoke softly as she brought her cup to her lips.
“I would do the same if that was one of them. I know.” He sighed, passing a hand on his face. “Godric, if it was George, I wouldn’t leave him alone one second. I just wish they would leave me alone for once, you know?”
A couple of days later, Y/N found herself back to the small flat above the joke shop. She was meeting Fred and George before going to The Burrow. The whole family was gathering to celebrate the twins’ birthday and Molly had insisted for Y/N to come as well. Fred was still banned from apparating on his own and they never were too much of two to do it with him.
George and she each positioned themselves on one side of Fred. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her tote bag with their gifts well secured on her other shoulder. Fred hesitantly wrapped his own arm around her shoulders, sending her a troubled look as if he was a teenager boy seeing a girl for the first time. That was probably the closest they had ever been and even if it was nothing, it still made Fred’s heart race in his chest. Y/N interpreted this as his nervousness of apparating and gave him a warm smile before focusing to do it at George’s order.
At The Burrow she met familiar faces, all wearing a much less worry than the last time she had seen them when Fred was still in a coma at the hospital. As soon as she stepped in the house, she was caught in a whirlwind of embraces, most of them muttering in her ears small thank-you’s for looking after their brother as they hugged. Fred got the same treatment even though, from the look on his face, he was less than thrilled. It was all overwhelming so many people, in such a small place, all ever so happy to be here altogether – and especially happy for him to be with them.
After his mother released him from a good five-minutes hug, Y/N gave him a thumbs-up for support to which he rolled his eyes to answer. Thankfully, his niece and nephew were soon to beg him and George to play with them and the whole family focus turned to the children.
“Godric, would you leave me live in peace for once? I am not made of glass; I won’t break. I’m not dead. I am not dying. I am fine.”
Lunch had gone well until after the main course. Molly had gone to the kitchen to get the birthday cake she made, and Fred had insisted he’d go to help her – after all this was his birthday celebration and as always, she had done a tremendous work all by herself. One of his siblings had brought up that he should rather stay and that they would do it for him. It had been only a short sentence that had Fred literally exploded. He was up from his chair, yelling; anger had turned his face as red as a tomato.
Molly stopped on her track, a few meters from the table, cake in her hands, clearly mortified. The silence that followed his cries left everyone uncomfortable. The air was tensed. Y/N, sat at his side, tried reaching out to this arm. She wanted him to realize he had gone too far; he needed to take a step back and ease the tension a bit. But he just pushed her hand away quite harshly, directing his anger to her. “And you! Don’t you have anything better to do than try to fix and save people? I am not dying now, am I? So just find some stray orphan kittens to take care of and leave me the fuck alone.”
Y/N watched Fred storm out of the room. Her cheeks were hot from the embarrassment and her eyes were wide open from what Fred had just yelled at her. She knew it was just too much for him; the war had left its mark and his accident had just made him live it all other again. He didn’t want to be thinking about it every day. He didn’t want everybody to fear he would just disappear. He just wanted to be alive, and happy. And he wanted them to be alive and happy… and not to worry about him.
She knew why he said what he did. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel her heart stang by his words. Behind his anger, there was still a little bit of truth.
Perhaps she was also just too much; she had imposed her presence to him even though they were merely acquaintance. She had acted as if they were great friends, a friend with a medical degree that scrutinized his every little move to make sure he was alright. Perhaps, she had not given him any air to breathe, acting exactly just like every other member of his family though he had specifically voiced he didn’t want that. Perhaps she also had a saviour complex, after enduring so many patients’ loss during the war and being traumatized by it, that she just wanted to fix him because she knew she could.
“I, uh-” Y/N started, gazing around the table, “I think that’s my clue.”
“Y/N, darling…”
“That’s fine, Mrs Weasley. He needed to get this out of his chest, I guess.” She went to grab her coat by the door, as Molly and everybody else tried to stop her from leaving. She was too upset by what had happened to even bother to put her coat on, even if it was still freezing outside, despite it being already April. She was so disturbed she almost went through the door without saying goodbye, but stopped on the doorstep to turn to the table she couldn’t even see from the tears building up in her eyes. “Thank you again for the food. I’ll see you all.”
Two days after that, Y/N found Fred at her door, waiting for her to come home.
After crying all night about what happened at lunch, she had kept herself busy with a 24-hours shift. It was the first time since then she was coming home and she found him, leaned back against the corridor wall in front of her door.
She gave him a dirty look when she reached his level. She was exhausted from her shift - a shift during which everything that could go wrong actually did - and also from the very little sleep she had got in those two days after Fred’s outburst. This was the first time they were seeing each other. She hadn’t reached out to him, willing to give him space as he so needy apparently. One part of her had hoped he’d send an owl to apologize, but she didn’t get anything.
From the apologetic look on his face, he wanted to have this discussion now. Unfortunately for him, she just wasn’t in the mood, so she just ignored him and went to unlock her door. He still stepped closer and called after her.
“Look, I don’t have time for this,” she stated as she wiped her foot on the doormat.
“My heart hurts a little, can you have a look at it?”
Y/N turned to him to scan his face; she didn’t know if he was serious or not. She searched into his eyes to try and find his well-known playful sparkle. When she didn’t find any, she sighed and opened the door, instructing him to get in. Following him in, she let her coat and bags by the door and made him seat on one of her kitchen chairs.
She listened to his heart with the help of her wand, making sure to listen to multiple heartbeat sounds and see if anything was wrong. When she was done, she put her wand away, still refusing to look at him.
“So, what’s your diagnosis?”
Y/N could hear the smile in his voice; of course, there was most likely nothing wrong with him. He wouldn’t have gone to hers if he was truly believing something wasn’t right, he would have gone to the hospital. She sighed, passing a hand on her face from the frustration. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”
“I am sorry.” He grabbed her hand and Y/N finally looked at him. She could tell from his tight smile and the way his eyes desperately searched for hers that he was indeed sorry. “I didn’t mean anything I said back there. You never treated me like I was made of glass or like I would just breakdown any minutes. You went through your own stuff, and this was unfair of me to tell you any of those things.”
Y/N nodded slowly as a way of accepting his apology. Fred smiled, relieved she was no longer mad about him, and she smiled weakly in return.
“Does your heart really hurt?”
“I dunno,” he shrugged, a sly smile on his face. “Would you kiss it better if it did?”
#lea's writing#fred weasley imagines#fred weasley fic#fred weasley fanfics#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley oneshot#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#harry potter fic#fred weasley x you
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languages, travel, identity, grief
Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.
I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.
That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.
I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.
And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.
I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.
And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.
But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.
There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!
And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.
So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.
You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.
I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.
It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.
And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.
It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.
Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.
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I have a request for a drabble or headcannon style thing, whatever you prefer. Where spencer and reader are very close (friends or dating you can decide) and he makes a fatal mistake on the job that gets reader killed 😳 if that is something you will do 🥰 thank you
(Long) Drabble: Doubt Comes in
Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!reader
A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! Normally I don’t like sad endings lol BUT this request gave me the motivation to write something with this idea I’ve had. I almost made it a full one shot but didn't know how. (if you like Orpheus and Eurydice, see if you can catch the hadestown references)
Warnings!: Sad ending/ANGST, Murder, death of a loved one, mentions of kidnapping, anxiety and questioning reality
Its kinda long for a drabble but not long enough where I would call it a one-shot, i got carried away but hope ya'll like it!
The team was working on a case with an unsub that was targeting couples. The team didn’t realize that the unsub had been stalking them since they arrived. He quickly learned of your relationship with spencer.
You were leaving the precinct to follow up with a victim's family member when the unsub had snuck up on you. After you went missing the team went into a frenzy and tracked your location to an abandoned warehouse.
When they arrived on the scene they had the unsub on the phone. He claimed that you were safe and unharmed.
He said you were free to go but only one member of the team could go get you. He demanded they send in her boyfriend.
Hotch was hesitant to send Spencer in. He was in shambles ever since you went missing that afternoon. His mind was scattered, he couldn’t think of anything but you.
They figured while this was exactly what the unsub wanted, it was their best chance to get you out safe.
Spencer was handed the phone and headed towards the warehouse. The building was dimly lit, it was so dark he could barely see 5 feet in front of him. The place was filled with storage and pallet rack shelves turning it into a maze.
As he made his way through the building the unsub would give him directions if he strayed too far from the path. It was like the unsub had eyes everywhere, he must’ve either had cameras or was positioned on a hidden upper level.
While Spencer was walking the unsub would taunt him through the phone. Asking questions about your relationship.
It made him sick. He never said anything to the man on the other end of the line; didn’t want to give the unsub the satisfaction of knowing he was in shambles.
It felt like he had been walking for forever when he finally reached you. You were curled up in a corner of a dead end. When you saw him you jumped up and landed in his arms. He felt you trembling against him and it made his heart crack.
“You said you would let her go if I came to get her,” he spoke into the phone with a shaky voice.
“And I intend to keep my promise. You both are free to go. Except, she must walk behind you. You cannot not turn around under any circumstance until you both are out of the building.”
“What will happen if I do?”
“Let’s just say you’re wearing a kevlar vest and she’s not. If you turn around, speak, or hang up the phone, I shoot.” Spencer's stomach dropped. “And don’t even think about being a hero and giving her your vest.”
“That's all we have to do? And we can go?” You asked, voice horse from not speaking in hours.
The voice on the phone spoke again. “You’d be surprised how many men can not resist the temptation. The worst temptation you’ll ever meet, the one that lines between your ears and behind your eyes.”
It seemed like a simple enough task. To walk out of the building. Spencer trusted you to be there and you trusted him to keep his eyes ahead.
He placed a hand on your cheek. “I promise I-“
“I know. I love you,” You interrupted.
“I love you,” he spoke softly before leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was trying to savor every last bit.
You both separated from the kiss and started your journey through the warehouse. This time the unsub wasn’t giving him directions to find his way back. At first he didn’t need them, with his eidetic memory he could recall the pathway he took.
But as he kept walking the anxiety started to eat away at him. The darkness was messing with his eyes and the silence was deafening. He started to make wrong turns, forgetting which path to take and doubting himself. Either he was getting lost or the building was getting longer.
The only thing that brought him comfort was the sound of your footsteps behind him. Or was that his footsteps? He didn’t know anymore.
It felt like his senses were working against him. He already felt like an idiot with his mind not being able to think straight due to your disappearance. But now your life was in his hands and they’ve been trembling since he walked in.
The logical part of his brain told him there would be no reason for you to not be behind him. But the anxiety running around in his head was questioning if you had ever been there at all. Or why would he let him win? Why would he let her go?
He had thoughts pounding in his mind of “Is this a trap that's been laid for me? Is this a trick that's been played on me?”
After what felt like a lifetime he made it to the front door. His footsteps picked up and he grasped at the handle to feverishly push the door open.
Spencer walked outside as a wave of relief washed over him. They finally made it.
He turned to face you as the corners of his mouth perked up. He met your eyes, shining with glee that you made it out safe.
Then it got loud. He heard gunshots vibrating against his eardrums. Your eyes went wide as saucers. You grasped at your abdomen before you crashed into Spencer.
How could this happen? They made it out. He said he would let them go. And Then Spencer saw it.
You hadn’t made it out yet.
He turned to look at you before you crossed. You both didn’t make it out. You got hurt, and it was his fault.
He held you close to him. The surrounding sounds all blended together. Morgans screams for a medic, the officers breaking into the building. That all fell on deaf ears.
It seemed as though his whole life fell apart when he saw you mouth his name as the light disappeared from your eyes.
Your life was in his hands, and he let you slip away.
“Eurydice, dying now a second time, uttered no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?”
― Ovid, Metamorphoses
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction
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︶꒷꒦︶𝔖𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡︶꒦꒷︶
༺I Tags: one-shot, fem! reader x William James Moriarty, fluff, beach day idk, modern AU
༺I Warnings: barely any, just slightly suggestive at the end?? pretty short too
You noticed William had been overworking himself again. He wasn't sleeping nor eating well and you were getting worried because of it. So you had you negotiate with him, and it was no easy work. You wanted him to take at least a small break from everything else.
He complained and tried to make up an excuse for every idea you had to spend your vacations with him, but when he actually gazed at your endearing eyes he just had to submit to your enchantments and say yes.
"Only because you look at me like that."
"I'll go put my swimsuit on," you said once the two of you had finally arrived at your beach house.
He nodded and put his own swimsuit on. He was planning on wearing a modest one, yet he didn't want to get his skin damaged by the Sun in case he had totake his shirt off and that's why he needed your help to put sunscreen on his back.
You came out of the changing room with your new swimsuit and he tried not to pay attention to it.
"Could you please help me, darling?" he asked as he grinned.
"Of course, handsome."
The sunscreen made it quise easy for your fingers to softly slid against his back, nape and shoulders first. Then you continued with his chest and his slightly toned abs. Nonetheless, when your hands went up to his face you noticed how flustered he had grown.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, no, it's nothing, I can..." he muttered nervously, "I can do that by myself."
"You'll do your arms and legs. Let me finish with your face, alright?"
The blond tried to look away from your eyes. Letting you see him acting that shy would be a bit... embarrassing. And to make it worse, you kissed his jaw.
"Thank you, my love."
"It's your time to help me out though." You turned your back to him.
"Sure," he said. And he did what you asked him to with a bit of hesitation. Letting his fingertips caress your bare back and shoulders felt too good to be true.
Once he was done putting the sunscreen on you, you ran to the pool and when you came out of it your whole body was soaking wet. The Sun made your skin colour look more stunning if that's even possible in his eyes.
"What are you looking at?" you frowned rather playfully.
William walked towards you and placed his hands against your waist before pulling you into a deep, desired kiss.
"Gorgeous. You look gorgeous. Don't look this gorgeous if you don't want me to die from a heart attack or to kiss you until we never go back home," he spoke.
You threw your arms around his neck and immediately kissed him again. Yet you didn't realize how hard you pulled him, and both of you ended up falling into the pool.
Liam looked at you and started laughing when he saw how suprised you were. Soon you were both a laughing mess.
"Do I even have to tell you you look gorgeous as well?" You ran your fingers through his now wet hair, earning a smile from your dearest.
"Do I really, pretty woman?" He smirked.
"Yes, you do, precious man." Soon he was sitting on the stairs of the pool as you were almost pinning him against the wall of it. "Why are you blushing so hard though? Just calm down."
He could only manage to chuckle and bury his face into the crook of your neck, placing a few kisses here and there.
"You know why, (Name)," he whispered.
You teased him with more and more kisses all over his face.
"(Name)..." he softly moaned. "It tickles."
You didn't mind overwhelming him. In fact, that was pretty much your intention.
You two went to the sea many hours later and held each other's hands. It was already late at night, so you could see the moonlight stroking your boyfriend's soft skin, which was truly a sight to behold. This time he was the one who caught you staring at him, but instead of teasing you like you would've done, he just blushed and smiled innocently at you.
You gave him a little peck on the lips and noticed the subtle yet obvious salty taste on them. Were his cheeks pink because he had been sunkissed or because he was simply infatuated with you?
"It's too dark here, Liam. We should go back to our house and-"
He didn't even let you finish. He had felt the need to pull you closer to him.
"Can't you just... eat my heart, crawl into my skin and become one with me for once and for all? I need you."
Your eyes widened at his odd request and tried to utter at least one word despite having gone absolutely weak now.
"I need to feel your warmth to another level, (Name). Please, I don't know what to do." He was basically whimpering and you found that this was making you dizzy (in a strangely nice way).
"That's why we should go back home, my angel. I'll help you there. You'll find out how soon," you said as you grabbed his hand and took him to your house, to the heaven of your bed.
#william james moriarty#moriarty the patriot#yuukoku no moriarty#mtp william#ynm#yuumori#william james moriarty x reader#Spotify
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The fun of fucking sexy girlfriend's pussy
Read in Xxx college girl sex story that a girl got crazy about my friend. Both of them had also become friends. But my friend did not like it. He asked me for help.
Hello friends,
My name is Aryan and I am a resident of Ahmedabad, Gujarat.
My height is 5'9″ inches.
I am slim and simple in appearance.
I have been reading Antarvasna for a long time. I read one or two stories in the morning.
Without talking much now, let's go straight to the Xxx college girl sex story.
This incident happened when I was studying in a college in Ahmedabad.
At that time I had a friend whose name was Ajay.
Ajay had a friend whom he met at a wedding and she was infatuated with him.
She had made Ajay her boyfriend.
But Ajay did not like her that much.
One night I woke up to smoke a cigarette.
I saw that Ajay was shouting and talking to someone.
I went to one side and started smoking and when he finished talking, he saw me and came near me.
I found him angry and tense.
So I asked him- what happened?
On this he said- Brother, there is a girl who is after me. For the last 6 months she wants to settle down with me.
After listening to Ajay, I said- So what is the problem in this? Set it up and enjoy!
On this he told me – Brother, I should set it. But if I told her yes, she would fall into the trap of getting married.
After listening to her I said – then get married. Isn't it good looking?
So he said- She looks good, but she is older than me.
I said – What is there in that brother… Nowadays people get married even at an older age.
Ajay said - No friend, if I say yes and then don't get married, she is threatening to kill me. Then what will be the condition of my family members? For all these reasons I have refused him. But she is not agreeing. He has to do anything to get into a relationship with me.
I said then block his number.
Ajay said- Can't… what if he does something?
I said – Brother, take rest today, it is late in the night. Let's talk about this tomorrow.
On this he said – Brother, do anything but get me out of this problem!
I said- Brother, let's do something!
Then two weeks passed like this.
Meanwhile, both of us had to go to a wedding.
Our roommates also came to that wedding.
We all enjoyed the wedding a lot.
After this everyone went to their respective homes.
I also left to go to my home.
So Ajay reminded – Brother, what to do about that girlfriend problem?
I said – You can do one thing but… for this you will have to do as I say.
Ajay nodded and said- Okay.
I said- Call that girl and talk to her lovingly.
Ajay did the same.
He dialed the call and spoke lovingly to the girl and said – This number of mine is about to be switched off. Don't call me on this. I'm giving you my second number.
Because of Ajay talking so lovingly, the girl felt that Ajay was set up with her.
But our plan had started now.
Here let me tell you that the name of that girl was Riya.
Ajay gave my number to Riya.
Then we came to Ahmedabad.
After this, when Riya called my number, I did not pick up her number.
Friends, let me tell you that WhatsApp was not in use at that time.
People used to talk through calls and messages.
When he kept calling, I messaged him and said – I am busy right now, I will talk in the night.
Let me tell you that she lived with her family so she could not call at night.
Some time passed like this and gradually we started talking through messages.
Riya felt that she was talking to Ajay.
But I was talking to him.
Then one day I called Riya.
Riya had not talked to Ajay for a long time, so she could not recognize my voice.
First, I talked to Riya a little so that she does not doubt me.
After this, when I was confirmed that everything was fine, I increased the conversation.
Now our talks used to last for a long time.
While talking, we also talked about sex for hours.
We used to talk about sex every night.
In this way 3 months passed.
Then one day I told him the whole truth.
As soon as he heard the truth, the ground left his feet.
He did not talk to me for a few days but then after some time I got a call from him.
Perhaps now that she had mingled with me, it did not matter much to her because now Riya had forgotten my friend.
After some resentment, we started talking again.
We mostly talked about sex.
Every day during phone sex, I would make her naked and finger her pussy with my name.
I also used to masturbate in her name.
I told her that I liked her.
He asked- Do you truly love me?
I said- Yes!
Then after a day or two I proposed her and she said yes.
Now Riya had become my girlfriend.
I told this to Ajay that Riya is set up with me.
On this he said – Brother, why is the flying arrow taking hold?
I said I will handle it.
Then one day I called Riya to meet.
She immediately agreed.
I said- let's meet outside.
I live in Ahmedabad, she lives in Bharuch.
Distance of 200 kilometers, 4 hours journey.
During our conversation, I even asked her about sex but she refused.
He had only one thing in mind that they would have sex after marriage.
I asked to avoid it - Okay then you or go and meet!
She said- I can't. You come off.
Then I told him- If I come then I will do what I want.
He took my suggestion lightly and said yes.
But somewhere we both were hungry for sex.
Riya said- Can you come to my house tomorrow night at 11:30?
Without any delay, I said yes to him and asked for his home address.
After this I told my friend Ajay about this.
Ajay said- Go and meet, take condom with you.
I said- absolutely!
Then I reached his city with full preparation.
I reached outside his house at 11.30 pm.
She came out to pick me up and carried me inside the house.
I went to her room and as soon as I went inside, I took her in my arms.
We both hugged each other for a long time.
Then after 5 minutes we started kissing each other.
Then I put one of my hands inside her top and started massaging her nipples.
Now maybe she was hot.
So as soon as I got the chance, I lifted her lehenga up with my other hand and started caressing her thighs.
Now she started stiffening and then I removed my hands from her thighs and put them directly inside her panty and placed them on her pussy.
I felt that her pussy had released water.
Then I took out my hand from her panty and asked her to take off her top.
Now she was in front of me in a black bra.
Then I asked her to take off her lehenga and she took that off too.
Now she was in front of me in bra and panty.
I went and switched on the light of the room.
So she shyly covered herself with the sheet and said – please turn off the lights!
Then I said- Don't be shy, there are only two of us here.
But suddenly she stopped me and said – First fill my maang with vermillion.
I said- I will do all this later. You enjoy it now.
She became completely aroused so she agreed to what I said and started supporting me.
Once again I started massaging her boobs and took one of her nipples in my mouth and started pressing the other one.
I pounced on her and threw her on the bed and pounced on her like an animal and started kissing her.
She also started supporting me and started kissing me.
Then I took off her panty and bra and threw them.
Now she became completely naked in front of me.
Then I inserted a finger of my hand into her pussy and started shaking it.
Now she started moaning.
Now it was her turn to lick her pussy.
As soon as I placed my tongue on her pussy, she started writhing.
Now my penis was also getting erect, so I quickly started taking off all my clothes.
Within a few moments I stood naked in front of her.
She got scared after seeing my 6 inches long penis and said - I will die, I will not be able to take such a big one.
I said- I will do it easily!
She said- Okay.
When I asked her to take my penis in her mouth, she refused.
After I told her once or twice, she agreed and started sucking my penis in her mouth.
Now I started enjoying.
Then we came to position 69.
I started licking her pussy.
Now she was about to cum so she said – I am about to cum.
I increased the speed of licking and within a few moments she ejaculated.
All her fluid fell on the bed.
Then I started sucking her boobs.
She started getting hot again.
Now she was probably ready to get fucked.
So, without wasting any time, I applied cream on my penis and placed it on her pussy.
Now the tip of my penis touched the hole of her pussy.
I said- There will be some pain but later it will be fun.
She said- Okay!
And I gave a hard push and my penis went into her pussy.
Now she started screaming and saying – Take it out, I am in pain.
But I was not going to agree… I gave another push.
This time my 6 inch long penis went straight inside, tearing her pussy.
And she started crying.
She was absolutely a virgin.
Now I started pushing and then tears started coming out of her eyes.
She started refusing me so I stopped for a while.
But I did not take my penis out of her pussy.
At the same time, I started pressing and sucking her boobs.
After some time she started liking it so I started pushing again.
Now maybe she also started enjoying and she started lifting her ass to me.
I also increased the speed of my thrusts and started thrusting harder.
She had orgasmed due to my continuous thrusts.
Now I took out my penis from her pussy and asked her to become a mare.
Then I started fucking her from behind.
After being fucked for 10 minutes, she orgasmed again.
Then I made her lie straight and placed a pillow under her ass and lifted her pussy upwards.
Then I placed both her legs on my shoulders and started fucking her from the front.
While enjoying the Xxx college girl sex, she started saying to me – Ah… do it quickly… it is fun today. Do it faster!
And started pressing her lips with her teeth.
Now I had climbed on top of her and with strong thrusts, sudden sounds were coming from the room.
Here Riya was also saying – Tear my pussy today my king… ah ah!
I also maintained the speed and after some time she held me tightly and orgasmed.
Riya had orgasmed thrice till now.
Now it was my turn, so I also kept pushing with full force.
Then I said – I am going to have a baby!
So she said- pour your water on my boobs.
I also quickly took out my penis from her pussy and rubbed it on her boobs.
Now she took my penis in her mouth and started sucking it due to which my penis became erect again.
Then I said- Now I will fuck you in a new way.
She said- Okay.
Then I tied both her legs with her bra and stuck my mouth in her pussy.
The pink pussy of that Xxx college girl was in front of me.
Then I put a pillow under her ass and again inserted my penis into her pussy.
That night I fucked Riya three times in a row.
Now I also started feeling tired and then both of us slept naked on the bed.
I had set an alarm for 3 o'clock on my phone.
When the alarm rang, I got up and left for Ahmedabad.
Now Riya was in love with me.
I used to go to fuck her two to three times every month.
#eat my pussy#sexy content#sexy tease#sexy breast#adult model#hot as fuck#wet ass pussy#fuck my body#lick my pussy#my post#sexy titts#sexy pose
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So High School — Colston Loveland
Summary; In which dating the tight end for Michigan’s football team makes you feel like a high schooler in love.
Content Warnings; light smut if you squint, fluff, based on “so high school” by taylor swift. reader is a philosophy major at umich, reader is jim harbaugh’s daughter (for the plot😛)
I feel so high school, every time I look at you.
You felt your ears warm as you stopped to retrieve your scarf that the chilly Michigan breeze had knocked off your neck. Despite it being negative 3 degrees out you felt a flush breeze through your body as Colston held out a thin textbook towards you, “You dropped this.” Your cheeks pinked up like a giddy schoolgirl as you took the book from him, “Thank you Colston.” The football player paused briefly, “Have we met?” You smiled awkwardly, “I’m Katya’s roommate. We met at JJ’s birthday party last year.” Colston smiled as he put it together, “Ah, Katya’s shy roommate who ducked out super early. Also Coach H’s girl.” You smiled softly as the steaming apple cider in your hands fogged up your glasses, “Yeah that’s me. I have to get going, I’m already late to my intro to ethics class.” Colston smiled warmly as you disappeared down the sidewalk, he made a mental note to ask JJ to ask Kayta about your relationship situation.
I wanna find you in a crowd, just to hide from you.
A few weeks had passed since your interaction with Colston on the sidewalk. A few days after that interaction Colston had followed your private instagram which you learned JJ had given him in hopes of setting you up. You were currently huddled up with Katya at one of JJ and Colston’s football games. You absentmindedly searched the field for the blue jersey with the maize number 18 adorning the back. Your teeth were chattering from the chill air as the football spiraled from JJ’s hand and danced through the air before landing safely in Colston’s arms as his feet danced over the endzone. Michigan had won.
Katya squealed and grabbed your hand and pulled you down to the field. She left you alone as she made her way over to JJ. You scanned the crowd hoping to find Colston but falling short. A silky smooth voice filled your ears, “Looking for me pretty?” Your cheeks flushed a bright red as you spun around to find Colston smiling down at you. You grinned warmly, “Maybe so Loveland. Nice catch.” Colston smiled as he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “Thanks pretty. Do you have plans after this?” You smiled up at him, “Nah, Katya is probably gonna catch a ride back with JJ so I’m gonna catch the last bus back to campus and walk to our apartment. You?” Colston smiled, “No way, come out with me. I’m going down the road to Fleetwood’s Diner. Come with me.”
You hummed, “I don’t know. I don’t have my card and I only have a $20. Maybe next time?” Colston grinned, “Or you could let me pay for you this time and you can cover me next time?” You smiled at the boy, realizing he wasn’t giving up, “Fine only because Fleetwood’s has really good milkshakes.”
Tell me bout the first time you saw me
You awkwardly played with the rings on your fingers as you and Colston sat in a booth across from each other. You smiled softly as Colston spoke, “I still remember the first day I saw you and I actually think i crapped my pants.” A hearty laugh left your lips, “No! Why? I’m so sweet.” Colston grinned, “You had called your dad and said something about your tire was flat and you were crying because you didn’t know how to change a tire. He sent me and JJ to go change your tire for you. You were wearing an old ratty UMich tshirt and you looked like you’d been crying for hours and you were still so beautiful I swear I had never seen someone look so perfect until then.” Your cheeks pinked at his words as he smiled at you, “Go out with me. Like for real.” You looked taken aback slightly, “Okay.” Colston wasn’t expecting you to agree immediately so a warm smile washed over him.
I’ll drink what you think.
A few weeks had passed since Colston had asked you out, you had gone on two separate dates. The first being at a ace throwing place which suprisingly was a lot of fun, the second had been at a restaurant overlooking Lake Michigan and you were positive that he was going to kiss you goodnight when he dropped you off but he didn’t. You currently were stood in the off campus house some of the hockey players lived in at some party. You entered the kitchen to find Colston pouring some sort of alcohol into a red solo cup. You smiled as you leaned against the counter in the kitchen, “I’m sure my dad would love this.” Colston grinned as he instinctively reached for you and draped his arms around your waist, “Hi pretty. You thirsty?” You hummed, “Sure.” Colston grinned as he poured some Pink Whitney into a red cup, “Here you are gorgeous.”
You crinkled your nose at the strong smell of alcohol in your cup. Colston’s eyes searched to see if his drink assumption was correct. You noticed and smiled warmly as you sipped the drink. Colston spoke lowly, “Not the right drink is it?” You laughed softly, “No I’m more of a vodka person.” Colston hummed as he slightly frowned, “Why didn’t you say anything?” You grinned, “A cute boy did something sweet for me I can’t turn that down.”
Colston leaned closer to you, “Can I kiss you?” You smiled as your breath hitched ever so slightly, “I thought you’d never ask.” You leaned in a shared a sweet and passionate kiss with the tight end. You pulled away slightly breathless, “Wow.” Colston laughed as he pressed his forehead against yours, “Wow is right.”
I’m watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night
Shortly after you two shared the kiss at the party you and Colston decided to exclusively see each other. Colston was more of the social butterfly so not going out every weekend was different for him to say the least. But suprisingly the football player was content to be laying in your arms at 10:45 on a Saturday night watching the end of your favorite movie of all time, American Pie. He had tried to convince you to watch Any Given Sunday but was unsuccessful in his attempt. However you two did compromise and were going to watch Happy Gilmore next.
Are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me? It’s just a game but really I’m betting on all three.
You were rested upon Colston’s lap as the entire friend group was sitting around drunkenly playing kiss, marry and kill. JJ had to be the trashed of them all, he had thrown out your name, a annoying girl from his and Colston’s economics class and the water boy for Colston’s turn. Your boyfriend looked at you for help, unsure what to say. You hummed, “It’s just a game lovey.” Colston hummed as he traced circles into your bare thigh, “Marry my girl, kiss Carl the water boy and kill Sharon.” You hummed as you pressed a kiss against Colston’s lips, “You soo want to marry me.” Colston tucked your hair on one side of your head, “One day pretty. One day.”
Get my car door, isn’t that sweet
You grinned sheepishly as Colston pressed a kiss against your lips, “Don’t move.” It was pouring down rain and it was apparent the rain was harsh. Colston got out of his truck and ran around the front of the car and opened the door for you holding his jacket above your hair so it didn’t get wet. Your heart swelled at the sight of your boyfriend running back to his truck in the pouring rain.
No one’s ever had me not like you
Going back to your moms house with Colston was terrifying for you. Your parents had divorced when you were a freshman in high school so your years were split between their houses. You had your first kiss in your moms house. And the same boy you had kissed still lived next door to your mother. You were nervous about taking Colston home to begin with because your mom and you had a rocky relationship and you didn’t want to deal with her criticism.
But as you stood between your boyfriend who was very clearly jealous of Tyler who had been your first kiss, you were more nervous about that. You traced your nails over Colston’s tattooed arm, which seemed to calm him. You looked up at him and he relaxed as you entered your moms house. You spoke slowly, “No one has ever made me feel what you make me feel Colst.” Colston relaxed and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, “Thank you pretty.”
Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto
You had grown accustomed to being around the Michigan football players as your relationship with Colston progressed. You had always been someone who was uncomfortable with PDA so for you to let Colston finger you while you sat in his best friends living room as they played GTA was pretty much unheard of. But you let it happen.
I feel like laughing, in the middle of practice to that impression you did of your dad.
Colston had absentmindedly been off his game all week. Coach Harbaugh had recently found out about his relationship with you and Colston felt like the other shoe was going to drop any minute now. You had laughed when Colston expressed his feelings. You had done a damn good impression of your father finding out about your relationship with Colston. So all week in practice Colston found himself near laughter when he thought of it. And you were right, your father reacted exactly the way you imagined he would.
You knew what you wanted and boy you got her.
_colstonloveland_: happy anniversary my pretty angel girl. two years of being entranced by you, one year of being your boyfriend. i love you💗 (tagged yourusername)
yourusername; baby🥹 i love you more than life💗
jjmccarthy; finally we set them up @katyakurpos
— katyakurpos: almost cuter than us🥹
user88; when he pines for her before being her bf😫
rutgermcgroarty: we all love y/n🫡
coachjim4um; my sweetest girl she’s so happy with you colston! thank you🙂🙂
#fanfic#football player x reader#UMich football#umich blurbs#umich imagine#umich wolverines#colston loveland#colston loveland x reader
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–How involved were you with casting, and what led to Bill Skarsgård getting the lead?
FITZJOHN: We were completely hands-on on all things, including casting. The usual suspects were thrown around by the sales agent saying, “We need to look at…” I won’t mention any names, but we did talk to some of the big A-league boys. I think it was Roy Lee who suggested, “What about Bill Skarsgård?” and when we first heard that, to be honest, that didn’t really strike us. You know, he’s not exactly a boy, he’s 6-foot-4–a pretty significant man. And then the irony of that was it got us talking about, “This kind of reminds me of that story about the baby elephant that’s tied to the stake and pulls and pulls and pulls and can’t get away. And then by the time it’s a big bull elephant, it doesn’t even try to pull the stake, which it could probably do in no time.” And that’s essentially Boy’s story, the way he’s been so programmed by Shaman. He should be the champion, but he cedes the king role to Shaman, who’s about half his size by the time he’s grown up. So it just felt right.
SWART: When we spoke to Bill, he was so excited about playing a true action role. He’s a massive martial arts fan, and so capable. He was like, “Yeah, I want to do the training, and as many of my own stunts as you guys will let me.” We said, “Well, that’s great, Bill, but remember, your character has no lines, you have no dialogue.” And he said, “Yeah, that’s what really gets me about this role.” He studied the old Charlie Chaplin silent movies; he not only prepared his body and learned the martial arts part, but if you look at the range of emotion on his face, there are some little homages to classic Chaplin as well.
The rest of the ensemble was very much the same, finding the right people to bring these wacky characters to life. When we interviewed the actors, as well as our heads of department, we told them, “Wave your crazy flag! However you bring these characters to life, just lean into your creative inspiration.”
FITZJOHN: Getting back to Bill, if you see what he does under all the prosthetics in IT, you still know what he’s thinking and feeling. He’s one of a kind, and if Hollywood hasn’t recognized that he’s a big star yet, I believe they’re going to after this movie.
What went into getting Skarsgård in shape and choreographing his fight scenes?
FITZJOHN: That was a pretty significant task. Our stunt coordinator, Dawid Szatarski, is incredible in terms of how he thinks. He thinks in movement. Dawid basically invented a fighting style for Bill, given his lankiness; he wanted him to move with big sweeping motions, and they spent quite a bit of time in Berlin doing the training. We also hired a really good fitness/strength coach, a nutritionist, who basically lived with Bill for about nine months getting him ready. I didn’t stay too far from Bill during production, and I would watch him do a 12-hour shoot and then go and do a two-hour calisthenics workout on the roof. I mean, the guy would work out during lunch breaks. He never stopped; I’d never seen anything like that commitment. He became Boy.
SWART: Dawid was also our 2nd unit director. I think he has three or four credits on the movie; he actually has a great cameo as VDK Dawe, the one soldier who just won’t go down. Bill’s relationship with Dawid was very special, and there were times when Dawid would go to Bill saying, “So, do you think you can do this stunt?” and Bill would go, “Of course I can do this stunt,” and we were like, “No, you can’t do this stunt!” There were many moments when I would have to tell Bill, “No, no, you’ve got to use a double for this, because if you twist your ankle or something at this stage of the shoot…” But Bill was up for anything; he was like, “Well, then don’t challenge me,” you know? “Don’t dare me.” And we were like, “We’re not daring you!”
FITZJOHN: If we’re honest, Bill did the bulk of it; it’s not a battle we won in the end. Outside of the stupid, crazy stuff, like when we were throwing Boy down from a double-story balcony, he pretty much did everything.
I’ve heard that Skarsgård originally did Boy’s voiceovers himself, before H. Jon Benjamin came in and took over. Can you talk about the reasons and that process?
FITZJOHN: It was always going to be H. Jon Benjamin. I mean, Moritz called it at the same time, when we were casting. The short had this Marlboro Man voiceover that just doesn’t match with Boy. And even with Bill’s versatility, we needed to explore something like that. He did an amazing job, but the audiences wanted the almost bipolar nature of it.
SWART: It’s the absurdity of his inner voice, right? So in the short it’s the Marlboro Man, and Boy gets his voice from an old cigarette commercial. For the feature, we recorded Bill, which did give us a great connection to his character, but we found that we lost the absurdity of where his inner voice comes from. It took something away from the physical performance and the storytelling.
FITZJOHN: And also, given the nature of the story, the humor of H. Jon Benjamin gives us a reprieve, in a good way, from a pretty dark, dramatic and violent story.
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#it's my last shift in 2 days and then i'm leaving this job i'm actually so happy i no longer has to work there! 🎉#i need to find a new one asap of course but i never had energy to do so on my off days so i'll focus on that now#i've endured the hardest shifts with freezing -25-30 °C where the heater conditioner did absolutely nothing#shifts with the roof leaking trying to not let the orders of customers get wet constantly wiping shelves throughout 2 days on top#of everything i has to do#these past 2 days sewage system froze and i had no water to wash my hands or use the restroom properly..🤦♀️#i know the wet hand wipes are bad for ecology but man they continously saved me and also i had to wash my hands using water from kettle and#i had to do it outside freezing of course because the sink and restroom are in another building and i didnt have time to constantly walk#there.. and this on top of 2 last weeks of december being especially batshit crazy stressful and having heated karen encounters each shift.#and it was so hard on me because i am a nonconfrontational person and i don't like arguing with people#but i learned so much in these months of working there and for that experience i am still grateful :")#it's bittersweet that i won't see the friendly regulars that were always kind to me anymore tho 😔 and my coworker came yesterday#and we spoke for like an hour or so and he said he is is sad that i'm leaving because i'm such a nice person and a great coworker 🥺#ngl this made me sad too but life goes on.. he said he'll be leaving in a month too#said he didn't think that i'll leave first 😂#i woke up almost an hour ago from 3 bg3 related dreams in a row btw 😂🤦♀️ i need to play 🙈 ok i need to get up first..😭#tbd
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i cant get over the way he talked about me bro
#positively#yapping and exaggerating to his friend ab how good i am like omg#good as in the club not in general 🙏#we dont even talk (my fault) but he talks about me like THAT???????????#u had to be there and hear it but oh my god bro the way he just spoke ykwim#someone asked me what type of questions im good at and i said idk and he spoke up and was like shes really good at myth!!!!#yall it was so cute too like i was sinking in my chairr blushing and crushing#twirling my hair giggling kicking my feet for thr past 13 hours after hearing that#he still hasnt accepted my follow req but trust he wants me yall ik fs#post#erics tag#kindividual posting
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