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yeehawbvby · 1 year

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 22

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You cast your first spell, and make some last minute preparations for your mission with Magnus.

Author’s Note: Friendly reminder that Magnus is disguised until Mission: Abominable is over! Currently he looks more middle-aged, with graying black hair, dark skin, and gold-ish eyes. Same general features as the reference in Chapter 18, otherwise. uwu

Enjoy, take care, and please see my comments for more notes! x

Table of Contents + Work Summary

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This magic shit is hard.

If I’m not good at something right away, I take it to heart. I know it’s illogical, but I can’t help it. Rejection sensitivity, and all that. After several consecutive failed attempts to lock up this fucking door, I’m really feeling it.

I’m sitting on the bottom step, elbows on my knees and head in my hands. My forehead is more moist with sweat now than it was when I ran the entire fucking way here. My body is achey and I’m sleepy and I’m really hungry and I want to go home and go to bed but instead I have a long night ahead of me so I’m going to freaking lose it.

I hear footsteps descending the stairs at my back. “I couldn’t do it,” I admit before Magnus can even ask. “I tried so many times, Magnus! And it seemed like I was almost there, too! This shit is exhausting!” Frustrated tears threaten to spill from my eyelids. I lift my face from my hands and let them dangle over my knees. “I don’t even know what I did wrong. I felt something going through me and then everything just fizzled away every fucking time and–”

“(Y/n).” My face whips to the tall, disguised wizard, and I squeak, wide eyed and taken aback at how sternly he broke me from my spiral. “It’s going to be alright.”

As he seats himself next to me, I turn my head back down and keep blurting out my woes. “No, like, I suck at th–”

He places a firm hand on my knee and speaks my name again. I gawk at how large his hand is, quickly snap out of it, and face him once more. “Show me,” he calmly orders.

My eyes flicker between each of his, not wanting to embarrass myself, but he insists on it with a tilt of his head towards the door I’d been working on.

I sigh as I pull myself up on two legs and lazily re-familiarize myself with the grimoire. A deep, shaky breath escapes me, and I do what I’ve been doing, now with the added pressure of my mentor’s gaze.

Big surprise, it doesn’t fuckin’ work!

I turn back to him, feeling exhausted thanks to all that’s been drained from me. Magnus’ eyebrows furrow, and he approaches with an outstretched palm.

“Touch me,” he quietly requests.

Looking down to hide any possible traces of being flustered by that phrasing, I hold his hand. He then whispers something too quiet to make out, but it prompts a glow to emit from his hand and pulsate into my own. Suddenly, I feel… kind of ok. Less tired for sure, but also more relaxed. He, on the other hand, definitely looks a little rough.

“I’ve refilled your mana with my own,” Magnus explains without prompt. “It will replenish your energy, as well as calm your anxieties.” His newly golden gaze drifts from our hands to my eyes. “It’s common to feel unwell once you’re running low.”

“What about you?”

“I regenerate relatively quickly,” he smiles. “This is the same side you tried to enchant with, correct?” I nod. “Is it your dominant hand?”

“Mhm,” I hum my affirmation.

“Good,” he confirms, “It does not matter which hand you use, but rather, what feels most natural, so you’ve a good start.”

Magnus turns his attention toward the door, and brings my held hand up to it, positioning me so that my fingertips are barely grazing the dark wood. He then brings his opposite fingers to the book I have opened across my forearm.

“Now try the enchantment again, but slowly. Ease into the words — the calmer you are, the more likely it is to work.”

The way he teaches is stern, but soothing.

Just in general, being around Magnus in general is… so fucking soothing, for some reason. There’s something so familiar and homely about him that I can’t put my finger on.

But that’s totally the mana transfer or my exhaustion or something talking.

Totally.

In my weird and sappy state, I gaze up at him dumbly. Magnus gives me another directional head tilt to prompt my next attempt. This time, his face is less flat — that dreamy smile I’m growing more familiar with paints him.

Heat rises to my face as I close my eyes and try to focus.

I take in a deep breath, and think of the people and things that bring me the most comfort:

Cannoli’s snuggles. Robin’s rare, weird words of motherly wisdom. Sebastian’s everything. The rain. Sam… to a degree. Gus’ cooking. The Gem Sea. Marnie’s generous dairy gifts. My new home. Leah’s voice and passing greetings. The view I had on the first night I met Magnus... Magnus’ hand on mine.

Magnus.

I open my eyes as I exhale, feeling like I’m in an entirely new headspace. As I begin the incantation, Magnus takes his hand off mine, but stays close. I keep my voice at a whisper — feels comfier than trying to, like, announce anything. The body-tingles start drastically sooner this time around, and once I’m finished, a small light swirls around each of my fingertips before dissipating.

…Shit, that’s new.

I look up at Magnus, looking for reassurance or instructions. He smiles, a glimmer of pride evident in his eyes, and nods to the door once more.

I try to open it again, but this time, the door doesn’t budge!

Holy fuck, I actually just casted a spell. I just did magic.

I slam the book shut and hold it close to myself, trying not to show too much excitement because that was so fucking cool and I’m cool now!!! and I don’t know how to handle this pride.

I can’t stop the cheek-cramping smile that’s on my face or the tiny “Oh my god I actually did it” I mutter out between incredulous giggles.

“That was perfect, (y/n)!“

I instinctively bring the tome further up to cover some of my face, half-intentionally hiding myself as I thank the wizard. I’ve gotten plenty more praise since moving here than I did in the city, but never because of anything I accomplished in particular, as far as I can remember.

Except for, like, sexy stuff. But now isn’t the time to reminisce on that.

The positive attention in this context is a little embarrassing. I change the subject to try and avoid it, bringing out my phone to check on the time.

Looking up from behind the grimoire, I ask, “What’s next?”

Magnus steals my hiding spot with a cheeky grin, and tucks it under his arm before placing his hands in his pockets. He already looks like he’s fully recovered from his earlier mana drain.

“Not much, at this point. I must decide on an identity to take up, should Abigail ask questions.”

I nod in agreement. “Aaand I just have to remember to pretend I’ve never met you, which will probably be easier said than done.”

He hums and nods. “I could utilize the arcane to lobotomise you.”

I snort and follow him as he makes his way back upstairs. “Do it.” I egg on. “You won’t.”

A hearty laugh emerges from Magnus, and my stomach flutters. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard something like that from him.

“Oh, of course I wouldn’t do that.” I’m about to tease how easily he gave up on the bit, but then he scoffs and adds, “It would fail to be so entertaining if you knew I was going to.”

I playfully nudge him with my shoulder, but my attention is reeled in by his temporary living quarters.

All of the walls have been redecorated with a light green wallpaper, and the floors with a light herringbone. He still has all his plants, but they look less fantastical, now based in rustic tin pots and woven baskets. The fun, multicolored lights are gone, replaced by a simple, circular ceiling light above the entrance to his home.

The main room continues the new floor and wall pattern. Instead of a cauldron, workstation, cabinets and bookcases to the left, there is now a small and homey kitchen with an island. The room that’s typically empty, aside from his displayed grimoire, is now walled off and presumably a bathroom or laundry room; and on the right, there is now a couch by the fireplace (which contains no flames), and a small, indoor greenhouse sorta thing rather than his spell circle.

It’s kinda boring in comparison, which is perfect for the sake of our plan.

“Whoa.” I ask, baffled, “How did you do all this?”

“It was a test of my patience and mana storage, I’ll admit. Do you like it?”

I nod enthusiastically, then joke, “Looks just as plain and boring as any other ol’ hermit’s house.”

“Hush, you.” I snicker as he leads me into the new kitchen. “Before we proceed, you need food.”

I furrow my brows and tilt my head. “We need to hurry, actually.”

“I heard your woeful thoughts while I was renovating, my dear.”

He called me the same thing the other day, but I was in too much pain to feel anything. But my, oh my, I am definitely feeling Many Things now: Embarrassment. Butterflies. Guilt.

I roll my sleeves down over my hands and keep them close to my face as I lean my elbows against the wooden island counter, trying to look casual. I mumble, “Mind your business, wizard,” into my sleeve.

“Oh, I tried.” Magnus props himself on his palms across from me and points out, “They were too loud to ignore this time.” I shyly look down at the surface. “We can discuss the lore of my new identity as I prepare a meal. Sound good?”

He doesn’t even wait for an answer, already retrieving pots and whatnot.

“Fine.”

_______________

Two tummies full of buttered noodles, some cozy conversation, and one discussion pertaining to Magnus’ temporary identity later, and we’re all ready for The Mission.

He finally learned more about me, given his only insight to my life so far was that I’m a fucking mess. I told him about Cannoli, about my boyfriend – without mentioning Seb’s name, just in case – my life in Zuzu, and about some of my interests. I taught him what anime is, too. Dude never forgot how I’d mentioned it the day we met and immediately avoided explaining it. He found the whole mega-old-person-in-a-younger-body concept that’s used so often to be so cool, since he relates to it.

Since I’ll be spending a lot of time here honing my newly acquired skills, Magnus shyly asked if we could also spend time familiarizing him with what’s “hip” and “cool” (oh my god) in return, considering how little he gets out. I imagined that what he really was trying to suggest was that I bring over some anime for us to watch together. And when I thought about it, he heard it, blushed a smidge, and confirmed it.

I learned more about his life, too. He is aware that his eyes are mood rings (when they aren’t disguised, like this). He is also aware that there’s a huge tanuki living a bit further southeast in Cindersap. Apparently all the stories of them being a symbol of luck is real, and they’re sorta just elementals hiding in plain sight. Who knew!

I remembered him saying that Magnus isn’t his real name, but was unsure of whether or not his last name is “real” or not as well, so inquired about it while we rambled to one another. Rather than giving a direct answer, he first made a flirtatious comment that caught me very off guard:

“Why? You weren’t planning on taking it, were you?”

Had me nearly choking on my fucking pasta.

After confirming that Rasmodius is the surname he was born with, Magnus tells me about this old prophecy strongly believed in by the more human-like elementals, such as himself. To them, soulmates are a very real, and very highly valued thing. And since elementals tend to live so much longer than the mundane, it’s thought that one’s soulmate will be reincarnated time and time again, with the spirits lightly nudging them to cross paths and fall for their “partner in time” – as he called it – with each existence. When the elemental involved passes on, the reincarnation process ceases.

He thinks that he was a product of a scenario like this. Magnus recalls having a human mother and an elven father who was entirely smitten by her. The details are fuzzy, given how long it’s been, but he vaguely remembers his father telling bedtime stories of searching for his beloved, time and time again, until he and Magnus’ mother met.

Totally in awe at how cute and fantastical the concept is, I asked him if he knows who his soulmate is. Magnus said he knows she’s alive, as he met her in one of her previous existences; but he’s unsure of whether or not they’ll ever be together, given his commitment to the valley’s protection. He had hoped he was wrong, and that his ex-wife would have been “the one,” but. Yeah. We both know how things ended with her.

After accidentally making Magnus visibly sad, god damnit, I ask more about his work to change subjects. Instead of boring me with discussion of council meetings and potion-brewing, he gives me some hot goss. He has this colleague named Camilla that I’m apparently bound to meet, because she just pops into his home whenever she wants, invited or not. He fucking hates Camilla. But he admires her skill, so he puts their differences aside for the greater good.

He also has this weird rivalry with a member of The First Slash – a clan of adventurers that are far less than kind to elementals – named Lance. Magnus’ friend Krobus, a shadow person who lives under the town, has had more than a few run-ins with Lance… hence why they’re stuck living in the sewers now. Poor fella is terrified of humans, and many humans are hostile toward their kind.

Moving on to the boring stuff, though… tonight, Magnus is going to be Mark, if he’s even asked for his name. A 50-year-old recluse who studies plants and bugs for a living. Magnus is going to act a little mean, to emphasize that Mark isn’t a people person. He’ll pretend to be sleeping (Meaning he needs to opt for less formal clothes, which will be interesting to see,) and come out of hiding only when he hears us trying to go either up- or downstairs. If we wind up not going inside at all, which is preferred by him for obvious reasons, he’s going to pretend to have heard us roaming his property and come outside to us.

Abby and I will get to “explore” and bond, and he’ll get a sense for whether or not she’s ~magical enough~ or whatever to possibly be his daughter. If we’re lucky, both schemes will succeed, but if not, it’s not like either of us would be too peeved about it. I’d just have more weird tension to deal with, while he’d be offered some mental relief, if nothing else.

I should have just enough time to make it back home and still be able to mentally prepare myself for the endeavors ahead if I leave right now, so I mention that.

“You know, (y/n), if you’d like some more time to yourself I could just teleport you there.”

“You could what?”

Magnus laughs, and holds out his hand. “Come on, I’ll accompany you.” I glare at him, worried. Not because of him, but, I dunno… teleporting seems so nauseating to think about. “I promise it will be safe.”

“I won’t… like, lose a limb, or throw up, or anything?”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “It may disorient you, but nothing more than that should occur.”

Still staring squinted daggers into him, I groan and wince and slowly reach for his hand. If this is anything like the last time I should’ve “been fine,” he’s got a big storm comin’. Magnus prompts for my other hand too, and I feel my cheeks turn rosy as I clasp my free palm around it.

He closes his eyes and our fingers begin to glow, indicating that he’s beginning the process. I close my eyes too, bracing for impact or to feel sick or something, but nothing happens.

A small, teasing chuckle rumbles from the man whose hands I’m clutching onto for dear life. “Open your eyes, my dear,” he whispers.

I furrow my brows, but follow his instructions. My forehead quickly relaxes as I look around. We’re in my house.

“Oh.” I look down shyly, clammy palms loosening around his.

He laughs again, “See? Quick and easy.”

Cannoli starts fucking screaming as he bravely approaches us, which I don’t blame him for whatsoever. What would you do if your housemate and some stranger just suddenly appeared from thin air in the middle of your room?

I abandon my grip on Magnus and reach down to comfort the cat. “Hey, hey, it’s just me!” I coo as I scoop him up. “Sorry to scare ya, buddy.”

When I look up, I see Magnus looking down at Cannoli and I fondly. I slightly reposition the fella so that Magnus can pet him if he wants, and he accepts without me needing to offer out loud.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your own devices,” he sighs after being satisfied with the amount of affection he’s given to/received from Cannoli. “I’ll see you soon, (y/n).”

“See ya in a bit, Mark.”

He leers, winks at me oh my fUCKING GO– and then vanishes.

“Cannooollliiii,” I whine as I gaze down at the lil’ dude. Frustrated that I’m simping so hard for a man who’s, like, my teacher basically, even though I have a very awesome partner who I love very much that distinctly wants nothing to do with this guy.

Even more frustrated that we get along well enough that I already sort of consider him a friend. Maybe that’s, like, too much too soon, but I dunno... It seems like he enjoys having me around just as much as I like spending time with him.

Ugh. What the actual fuck is wrong with me? How could I be so selfish?

Cannoli tilts his head, responding to his name.

“Help.”

He meows.

“You… can’t help. Don’t lie to me.”

He meows again.

I sigh, and sit on the ground where we stood. All I can do now is wait for tonight to pass, and hope that my dumb and confusing feelings dwindle away, once this whole spectacle that is the arcane dies down.

_______________

It feels silly that Magnus and I have gone through all that just to try and force a friendship. Silly… and crappy. I’ve never gone to lengths like this for someone’s affection before, and it feels wrong.

But it feels just as funky and goofy and wacky to have done this all to connect Magnus with Abby, too, as if we couldn’t just… I dunno. Set him up with a disguise and bring him to the saloon sometime, saying he’s from out of town, instead.

Sure as hell would’ve been a better way to let him get a read on whether or not she’s actually his daughter.

With only a few minutes until midnight, I hear a knock at my door, halting those thoughts.

I groan as I pick myself up off the ground (I haven’t moved since Magnus left, except to swap out my shorts for leggings) and begrudgingly greet my visitor– oh, visitors. There’s two of them!

“Hey, uh,” I look up behind Abby to give the unexpected emo a confused tilt of the head. “What are you doing here?”

Seb and Abby answer in unison: “I’m babysitting,” and “He’s my hired accomplice,” respectively.

After our conversation about Magnus and everything he does, I wouldn’t have expected Seb to want to come along. I’ll have to ask him about that.

Abby looks up at him, snarling, while his dopey, lazy, maybe tipsy from the saloon? grin keeps its focus in my direction. It’s hard not to reciprocate.

“You ready?” the other local short lady interjects. I nod and walk out to my porch, locking the door behind me. “So? What’s the plan?” she asks as we make our way south.

“There is none.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“You invited yourself, dude,” I point out, stepping over a stray branch. “I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“She’s got a fair point,” Seb mumbles from beside Abby.

“So we’re just breaking and entering, basically?”

“If you actually want to go inside, then yeah.” I shrug. “But I’d rather not.”

I don’t want all the fancy stuff Magnus and I did to go to waste, but I’d also rather not risk anything going wrong. Plus, I don’t want Seb to feel more uncomfortable than he already might.

Abby groans. “Whatever.”

We fall into silence for a good 20 minutes or so, and when it doesn’t seem like it’ll let up, I take the opportunity to slightly fall back. I want to try something with Seb. I text him:

< if you’re able to, say something in my brain

< i wanna ask you something but i’m not an esper or whatever tf

< just like.. raid my thoughts for a bit

I see him take out his own cell as I realign with him and Abby, and he gives me a look before obliging. I try to act casual, kicking a rock along with each step. It veers off-center, but Abby kicks it back to me. She might be kind of a brat, but at least she’s not a monster. I test the waters, kicking it back to her, and we fall into a rhythm.

“What’s up, princess?”

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see it. “MMMMM stop that.” His voice sounds just as luscious in my head as you’d imagine. I’m really not looking to be horny right now, alas... ”I wanted to ask… Why are you actually coming with us?”

A beat passes before Seb responds. “I dunno. I did a lot of thinking, and figured if you’re going to be hanging around Magnus a lot, maybe I should try to get used to all that again.”

I crack my knuckles, attempting to distract my face from smiling. I should feel weird about my boyfriend and someone who I — uh, totally do not have fuzzy feelings for whatsoever nope there’s nothing there absolutely not — interacting with one another, with me present. But it makes me happy instead, for some reason. Is that weird? It feels like that’s weird.

“That’s… so sick, honestly,” I think to him. “But I’m still worried it’ll bring up bad memories or something. You gonna be ok?”

“Yeah, I think so.” It’s funny how, even though he isn’t talking out loud, I can still hear a smile in his voice. “If anything happens, I’ll dip. It’s no big deal.”

I lose my footing, missing my turn to kick the rock. “Goddamn…” I mutter out loud.

“Get good,” Abby quips. It almost sounds like she’s enjoying the quiet stroll together. That’s a good sign.

“Shut up,” I laugh, picking out a new rock and shooting it slightly to the side so she can have a go at it. “Not as easy as it looks in the dark.”

I return to the conversation with Seb. “Oh, I should warn you. Magnus’ name is Mark for tonight. I’m gonna be pretending I never met him, though, and he’s gonna act like some angry middle-aged dude that got woken up by our ~ruckus~.”

“Mark, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“He use that shrine thing?”

“Yeah, actually,” I respond. “He made himself look so cool.”

“How cool’re we talkin’? He’s already a very handsome man,” Seb teases.

I wonder if he had a crush on Magnus, too.

Wait. No.

Not “too.” I don’t have that. Nope!

“You’ll have to wait and see, loser.”

“Fuck!” Abby stumbles a little. I instinctively reach to prevent her from falling, but she regains her composure on her own. “Stupid rock…”

I chuckle evilly. “Told youuu.”

“Hey,” she nudges Seb. Ignoring me. “What’s got you so quiet?”

“Just tired, I guess,” he lies seamlessly. Despite being a complete night owl, Abby accepts his answer.

“...Hey.”

“Yeah, baby?” Seb replies.

“Dumb question…” I sigh, but turn it into a fake yawn before Abby can question it. Smooth, (y/n). “I know you said you barely ever listen in on people’s thoughts, but, like… have you done it to me, without me knowing, at any point?”

“Why do you ask?”

I take a sec to figure out my wording. “I’m just worried that maybe you used it to your advantage, kinda?” I mentally smack my own forehead. I sound so insecure. Like, I am, but I don’t want to be. “I know it sounds dumb, but you’re just, like… really perfect.” Ha, fuckin’ simp!! “So like–”

“You think I was just reading your mind this whole time?”

“I… I dunno. Maybe?” I wince. “I don’t want to think about it, but it’s possible, and a little scary.”

“It is,” he agrees, “I get why you’re worried. I have no way of proving it to you, but I only have once, if that’s any consolation.”

“That… actually is super relieving, yeah.” But now I’m curious. “When did ya do it?”

He clears his throat out loud, seeming to hide a smile or laugh. “When you told me you were fantasizing about me, but didn’t actually say how… I might’ve taken some liberties then.”

“Wait, this shit isn’t bluetooth?”

He muffles a laugh out loud into his arm.

Me and Abby both look his way – I’m shooting him a warning, and can’t see what Abby’s doing with her own features.

“You good, Sebby?”

“Sorry…” he clears his throat again. “Just remembered something funny.”

Abby nudges him. “Weirdo.”

“Depends on the person, apparently,” Seb finally answers once he’s contained himself. “If I’m talking to someone, irl or not, I can read ‘em. I have to waste a fuckton of mana if it’s not in-person, though.”

“Makes sense,” I shrug, before rolling my shoulders to hide it. “Welp. Now that I’ve got all that squared away,” I sass, “you’re banned from my brain again.”

Seb obliges, as far as I know – the allotted time until we near Magnus’ abode is spent without verbal and nonverbal conversation. I decide to experiment some more as we approach.

I close my eyes, really doing my best to focus on where in his tower Magnus might be. I don’t exactly know how to enter someone’s head unprompted, and I know that at least for now I have no way of reading minds, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try to get through to him somehow.

“Magnus, can you hear me?”

I hear a gasp resonate in my head, and mentally high-five myself for nailing this. “(Y/n)! Oh, this is wonderful!” He sounds so genuinely happy. “I-I’m sorry,” he laughs, “What can I do for you?”

“No, no, it’s cool! This is so cool! Oh my god!” I let a smile slip onto my face, and look away from Abby – just in case – pretending to peer into the dense foliage nearby. “Just figured you might want a heads up, that we’re almost there, but…um. Also, Sebastian is coming, too,” I meekly warn. “He told me you two worked together, once upon a time… and I already filled him in on our plans, so like, you don’t need to worry about that.”

“O-oh! Alright, then.” I can’t tell what he’s expressing – definitely surprise, but there’s something laced through it. Fear? Worry? I dunno. I just hope this goes well… “Thank you for telling me, (y/n).”

“Of course,” I offer. “See you in a few.”

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slashersgostabbystabstab · 3 years

Text

Halloween Oreos (Michael Myers x Reader)

Original Ask: How about some snack time with Micheal uwu sharing Halloween oreos with his s/o or someone me whose getting close to him. Perhaps they buy him some huehue

_____________

Haddonfield had become a rather quiet place following the Halloween murders, the following years becoming somewhat grim.

Halloween was no longer the same, or at least it was something that made the residents of Haddonfield tense up. Even after thirteen years, people were sometimes too afraid to speak the Boogeyman’s name. At least, people finally came out of their homes, as if the plague was already over with. After thirteen years, one could have said that the Boogeyman was no more.

October had finally come around, and this year Haddonfield was gifted with a veil of fresh white snow on just the third day of the month.

You grunted as you fixed the plastic bags in your hands, the mittens you wore making it somewhat difficult to properly hold them.Today was the day to go out for groceries, a task you only did every now and then due to your current living condition.

“Need help there?” you heard a voice behind you, prompting you to turn and see the cashier that had rung you up in the grocery store.

“Oh! Ah,” you gave a nervous chuckle as you once again fixed the plastic bags. “I-I can bear, thank you though.”

“I really don’t mind lending a hand, especially in this weather.”

“It’s alright.” you insisted, especially after a chill ran down your back, your eyes glancing around as an uneasy feeling came over you. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I just need to get going right now. Somebody’s waiting for me.”

“Ah, I see.” he nodded, taking a step back as you sighed in relief. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Thank you, have a nice day.” you nodded as well, not bothering to watch him leave as you knew the consequences of such things.

As you headed to your car, you took notice of a news crew that had stationed itself across the road, right at a sidewalk that led to another array of stores. The crew was specifically focused on a hardware store that had its glass windows broken, even the farthest eye could see the bloody handprints that were splattered on the walls inside as well as other blood prints.

You shivered at the thought of what had gone down inside, instead focusing on the trunk of your car before loading everything inside. Not paying much attention to the camera crew, or at least not wanting to do so, you hopped into your car to drive out of town. But not before taking a good look at your surroundings, on edge about the eyes that were possibly watching your every move.

_____________

Home was a rather lengthy ride, no more than an hour’s time thankfully, but the searching for it was what made up for that isolation you required. Considering the situation you lived in, your partially preferred living arrangements lie in the woods outside of town, where things were calm and quiet.

Hopping out of your car, you felt as the snow began to fall once again. This meant that in the morning, the veil would be much thicker and there was no going out, especially as your small home was situated in a deep part of the woods.

Hearing your boots with every step, you unloaded the groceries which would definitely be taking more than one go. You made your way towards the cabin in front of you, coming to stop after walking onto the porch as your eyes caught crimson.

Right on the wood were boot prints, every single one as red as the blood from the hardware store.

Your eyes followed the trail that led to the door itself, and you took notice of it being ajar.

Dropping the bags onto the porch, you placed a hand on the door to cautiously take a step inside. The creak of the door was enough to have you jump back the slightest bit, especially as your eyes continued to examine the trail of blood that led into the kitchen.

Now, you knew not to act like a girl in a horror movie but…

“Hello?” you called out into the emptiness of your home, holding your keys close to either fight with them or immediately flee to the car. “Is that you-”

Soon enough your scream pierced the air as you jumped off the ground, this due to feeling a rough hand clasp onto your shoulder from behind.

Once you had turned around, you groaned at the sight of an older man that stared down at you with dead eyes.

“Michael!” you yelled at him, then fixing your jacket which had slightly crumpled up at the shoulder where you had been grabbed. “I thought you were someone else.”

The man before you in no way flinched, not even bothering to blink as he continued to watch your every move.

“You leave in the middle of the night without a word and leave me alone all day.” you mentioned before passing by him, knowing that he turned his entire body to always be facing you. “Well now that you’re done with scaring the hell out of me, I’m done with the groceries. Won’t need to go out until January I think. I hope so, since it’s starting to get pretty cold out.”

Michael Myers, the Shape or Boogeyman of Haddonfield, stood right at your door with not a care in the world. If anything, your door to your house, was his door to his house. It had been this way for quite awhile now.

A few years actually.

It was surprising that he was not wearing his mask, his blue and clouded eye completely fixated on your figure as you grabbed the bags right at the entrance.

Once you had grabbed the bags at the door and then the remaining ones in the car, you shut and locked the door before being followed by Michael into the kitchen.

After he had spared you years back, Michael had come to act like a cat. Always with his nose on the lookout for what it is you would be feeding him. Hilariously, that was just how Michael reluctantly came into your life.

“I haven’t prepared anything since I’ve been out most of the day.” you admitted, ever so quietly laughing at the soft groan that rumble in Michael’s throat. “I did find some sweet goodies at the market though. Especially at WalMart.”

Michael didn’t always understand the things you talked about, but he was always listening. Always watching. Learning.

“They have these new cookies for the season. The orange looks kind of funny, but I’m pretty sure they taste the same as the originals.” you mentioned as you set the groceries on the counter, looking through the bags as you began to put everything in its place. “I also got you some stuff to shave off that scruff.”

Michael’s eyes darted down in an attempt to look at his chin, instead seeing you hand placed under it as you softly rubbed your thumb on it.

“Though I have to admit that it’s starting to grow on me.” you smiled before making your way back to the groceries. “Just like the greys in your hair.”

It really had been a few years since you had met Michael, a relationship forming after a pretty good while. He was in his mid-twenties, practically a middle-aged man now who hadn’t been found by the authorities this entire time thanks to you.

As you began to prepare a hot beverage for yourself, and Michael who you knew would ignore it but drink it behind your back, you knew that Michael was watching you intently. His eyes were glued on your hands that grabbed a pumpkin you had purchased. Somehow, he had not even realized the large vegetable as you brought it in.

“Found a recipe you might like, especially for the cold.” you spoke before grabbing a kitchen knife, one that piqued Michale’s interest but was not enough to have him snatching it away due to its size. “Especially with all the pumpkins that are out now.”

To his dissatisfaction, you set the knife down besides the pumpkin on the counter before facing him.

“But before I make that, I’m gonna go change. These clothes are starting to make me feel stuffy.” you removed your jacket as you walked around the counter and out the kitchen, for once not being followed by Michael who was now focused on the knife you had left behind.

Knowing that you would be too focused on finding one of his shirts to wear, he approached the counter to take hold of the knife, bringing it to his face to admire how it shone under the kitchen light. He first held it pointing upwards, but changed it so that he was instead gripping it with the blade pointing down. His head craned to the vegetable beside him, and instinct got the best of him.

“I see you got started with the pumpkin.” he heard your voice, turning around after having jabbed the knife down into the pumpkin which had more than a simple wound.

Michael grabbed the knife once again to pull it out, his entire body facing you once again as he tilted his head at your figure.

Your eyes fell to the knife that contained a bit of pumpkin residue, even a seed or two managed to slip out due to Michael’s brute strength. Now your eyes were on his blank features, and you couldn’t help but give him a smirk.

_____________

It wasn’t often that you lit the fireplace as to avoid any attention from outsiders, especially authorities who had honestly given up on the search for Michael despite his former psychiatrist’s demands, but you believed that tonight was just the night for a warm fire.

Despite the cold weather, you only wore one of Michael’s shirts with socks, perhaps a little something on your bottom. You figured that there wasn’t an entire need for covering yourself when Michael was your human blanket, and one that refused to come off you.

With all of the day’s work done, you sat on the couch, or more like Michael’s lap as he sat on the couch. Your legs were crossed as your torso was constricted by Michael’s strong arms, his chin casually laying on top of your head as you ate the last of your pumpkin soup.

Both pairs of eyes stared up ahead, almost next to the fireplace where your TV screen was placed. You were both watching the moving pictures, or at least Michael resumed that when you made comments about the movie.

“That’s so cheesy, no girl would scream and faint on the spot if she saw a monster.” you ever so slightly shook your head, Michael’s chin too heavy to actually complete the motion. “At least, nowadays. However, that looked like that one scene from the latest Child’s Play movie where the guy has a heart attack.”

It was an old monster movie kind of night, your mood demanding it and Michael no doubt being curious. Frankenstein actually seemed to catch his attention.

The man’s eyes glanced down at you as he saw your arms stretch out with your empty bowl, attempting to put it on the coffee table in front of the couch. This of course was quite impossible with Michael holding you back, his grip on you only becoming tighter as you were managing to barely escape his grasp.

“Michael!” you groaned, pulling your head forwards until his arms made a ring around your hips after you were able to snake the top part of your body out.

As you reached out to set the bowl down, you felt Michael bury his face right into your back before rubbing himself all over and taking in your scent simultaneously.

“I just want to put the damn bowl down.” you wheezed, eventually releasing a sigh of relief when your glass bowl safely landed on the table. But it made you also pleased to have grabbed the plate you had prepared along with the bowls of soup, making sure it or its contents didn’t slip out of your hands as you adjusted your body to the former position.

Michael gave a grunt as he placed his chin on your head again, this time making sure that you had no way of escaping him.

“You wanna try one, Michael?” you lifted the plate just a bit, having Michael peer down at the plate that contained black little circles that smelled weirdly to him. “They’re the newest Oreos. The cookies I mentioned earlier.”

You placed the plate on your lap, wishing that that was enough to hold them up while you took one of the cookies and offered it up to Michael.

“I don’t have any milk right now because you’re not gonna let me get any, so take it like this.

Michael squinted at the cookie, the orange filling enough to have him blinking at least once. In this state of his, you were able to break free and spin your body in place so that your legs were no longer crossed but instead on either side of Michaels’ waist. The plate of cookies was safely put on the empty space of the couch so that nothing could fall.

Having a mind of their own, Michael’s hands wrapped themselves around you as he once again stared at the cookie.

“It’s just a cookie Michael.” you giggled, lowering it before taking a bite out of it yourself.

Michael’s eyes landed on your lips, watching the way they moved as you chewed the cookie piece. Tiny black crumbs adorned your lips, every now and then shifting the more you chewed.

You watched him as well, finding it how funny his curiosity was. So, you popped in the remainder of your cookie before eating it as well, now feeling one of Michael’s arms leave your waist.

Instead, his fingers brushed against the warmth of your skin as his nails carefully scraped your cheeks. The tips of his fingers now coming close to your lips, his index finger actually on your bottom lip before it pulled it down and open.

“Michael,” you breathed out, knowing that Michael was merely observing the crumbs left on your lips.

Blinking up at Michael, you saw as he brought his face down to yours. His lips now dangerously close to yours as he continued to play with your bottom lip, making your breath hitch as he neared more and more.

Soon enough you closed your eyes when Michael closed the gasp, but not with his lips but his tongue.

Your eyes shot open as you felt his tongue lick the corner of your lip, continuing onto your lips themselves. You placed your hands on his shoulders, gripping onto them as you felt his own twist around the shirt you wore.

Your lips had already been parted from the shock of Michael’s actions, that good enough for Michael to slip in his tongue to get a taste of your mouth.

He didn’t care about your nails digging into his shoulders but in fact enjoyed it, pressing your chest against his as his tongue continued to explore your cavern, tasting every bit he could. But before you could follow along with his treatment, Michael retreated himself and looked down at you with half-lidded eyes that matched yours. Well, his didn’t have as much emotion as yours for he was difficult to faze of course.

“Michael?” you sighed at him, thoughts clouded with what just happened. You were then snapped out of it when Michael let go of you with one hand, reaching to the side where the plate of cookies was.

He had grabbed another one, bringing up in between your faces and leaving it there for just a moment. Soon after, he brought it to your lips, scraping it against them before slowly slipping it in so that you could take a bite.

As you chewed the cookie, Michael took the other piece into his mouth, leaving the two of you with crumbs on each of your lips.

His tongue slid out once again, licking the crumbs off of his lips before you got the memo.

The flush on your cheeks was more than enough to warm you up on this chilly October night.

#halloween #halloween 1978 #michael myers #michael myers x reader #halloween 2018 #killer x reader

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bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

uwu hcs for jean and eren with a s/o who’s bold in giving affection but gets easily flustered when they’re the one receiving it 😗

“now whose the flustered one”

paring: eren yeager x female reader, jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: implies nsfw, kissing, heavy flirting, fluff

word count: 2400+

a/n: sorry for the lack of content, but i hope you guys like this, im trying to get through all the requests before i go on hiatus but hope you like it any comments will really benefit, also i didnt read it properly but its a headcanon sort of, idk sorry im tired

summary: in which giving affection to the boys always leaves them swooning but as soon as they do it to you, you become an entire mess in front of them

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

eren yeager

You had known Eren since day one of the cadet corps, both meeting one night out on the barracks. You had seen him around whilst in the cadet corps, but you talked to Sasha and Connie a lot more than you did him and his two friends who always seemed to follow him around.

But the one encounter late at night had bloomed a friendship where you both became closer than anybody realised. Now two years later, on the brink of graduating and joining the survey corps you and Eren were partnered up to spa with the boy, the consistent teasing and flirting for two years flowing out from your mouth.

“Aww is Eren not able to beat a girl.” You mock going in for a punch, he dodges but cocks his head backwards in a laugh.

Looking at your much shorter frame, he goes in for a punch himself, “I’m capable of beating anyone Y/n, that includes you.”

You’re the one to laugh this time, arching your back to miss the swing of his fists, “maybe you’re going easy because you like me, it’s fine a cute boy like you, I might let you win.”

He blushes but tries to hide it with his fists raised, “like you, I could never.” The back and forth continuous on, everybody in their own worlds except Armin and Mikasa, the latter being annoyed at how you hit him.

“Come on Eren, aren’t you going to try harder.” You tease before you feel him grab your arm and flipping you to the ground, he stood on top of you his feet planted beside your waist.

An idea popped into your head as you quickly grab his arm dragging him down on top of you, you heard Mikasa shout his name but you both ignored it. His body on top of yours, you smirk feeling his hands on the sides of your body. He encased your body in his own and you leant up to meet his ear.

“Baby if you wanted to get me in this position, all you had to do was ask.” You kiss the side of jaw the blush on his face evident. Mikasa and Armin had come up to you both, confusion at how you both just stayed there.

The flirtations had been a common occurrence, you weren’t just naturally flirty with everybody you happened to have a soft spot for the boy and maybe a teensy crush. And the only way for you to let it out was through teasing and flirting which he seemed to enjoy a lot.

“Eren are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Mikasa speaks worriedly grabbing the top of his shirt to get him up, his cheeks visible to everybody.

You laugh getting up yourself, “Mikasa I’d never hurt the pretty little thing.” His eyes flash, widening at how easily you can flirt and tease at him, evidently a rush had gone somewhere else with how he grabbed his jacket from the floor covering his lap.

“Eren you shouldn’t put dirty things on your clothes.” Mikasa spoke about to grab it.

“I’m fine.” Eren muttered back, he watched as you walk a way a grin on your face at how at ease you were.

It wasn’t till after you all got back to the barracks that he could sort the downstairs problem and all he could imagine was you. A happier grin on his face he joined everybody for dinner, the bread being stale and the food being grim to say the least but the first thing he notices was how you, Jean, Marco, Connie and Sasha were on the table with Armin and Mikasa.

He shrugged it off grabbing the food and going to the table, “where were you?” Mikasa questions ready to give her his seat, but he instead sits beside you. You hadn’t noticed him listening to Sasha about food and hunting a smile on your face.

“I had to sort something out.” You nearly jump out of your seat at the sound of his voice a laugh echoing through your ears at how close you both were. His arms touching your own.

“Sort something out yeh.” You muttered lowly, it was barely audible but Eren heard and as much as he loved the flirting, he needed to give you a bit of your own medicine.

He moved his face towards your ear, his hot breath fanning your ear. “You created a problem for me, so I had to sort it somehow…” his voice becoming even more quieter, “how about next time you help me yourself?”

You had watched the boy grow, watched everything for two years and now at the sound of him knowingly flirting back, knowingly acknowledging something was there. You heart fluttered and a heavy red scattered across your cheeks, you felt warm and in heaven.

He moved his head ready to start a normal conversation with everybody else, nobody having paid attention except Mikasa who always kept an eye on the boy. For her sake, you hoped she didn’t like him because you knew you were not letting him go. “Now whose the flustered one.” It was audible enough and your head spun out how he knowingly knew that you were blushing at his comment.

You could barely speak; he expected a response but was instead brought with your wide eyes and flabbergasted face. “i…i…”

No words came out and with Jean on the other side of you trying to gain your attention you stayed frozen. “Did someone break Y/n?” Jean mutters, Marco laughing at how dumbfounded you were.

“I…I’m fine.” You seethe out trying to cover your face with your hair, “I need some air.”

You weren’t trying to get away, but you felt embarrassed, they had known you for two years as a major flirt even more than Ymir was to Historia but the way you had easily got flustered over a proposition. It was humiliating to say the least.

You rushed out, moving past the people. You had been holding in a breath that you quickly let out, the warm air hitting your skin, you leant against the building, looking up at the stars before you heard a cough beside you.

You turn and see Eren, the boy looking down before meeting your gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that and I’m so…”

Interrupting him, you began to speak yourself, “you don’t need to apologise, I just didn’t expect it I thought you didn’t know of my feelings towards you.”

He smiles coming closer to you, he brings his hand to your jaw making you look up at him, your back pressed against the wall. His other arm against the wall trapping your head, “Y/n you’ve been flirting with me for two years you really think I’m that unaware of anything.”

You tried to turn your head away, but his grip made you face him, “I thought your only focus was killing all the titans, or you liked someone else and were trying to let me down easily.”

“I’m not a dick to lead a girl on for two years Y/n, I needed to get over some stuff and then everything happened, and we’ve nearly finished this whole thing and I realised in a couple days we’ll be in the survey corps and fighting titans and I might not have another chance to say this. But I love you.”

The last three words were a whisper, but it was all you needed for you to grab his hair pulling his face closer to yours. He closed the gap in an instant, his hand removing off your jaw and onto your waist, it was a sweet kiss, filled with love and lust. His tongue licking your bottom lip for access, which you allowed, soft moans came from you both. Hoping nobody would see but that was the last thing on Eren’s mind as he relished in the way your tongues moved together. It was as if you were both made to fit into each other. It was a needed kiss and the turmoil the would come made it even sweeter.

jean kirschtein

The survey corps was the worst place to ever flirt ever. You and Jean had only just finished training and you were both thrown into the deep end with the first scouting mission, of course you and Jean had unhidden feelings, but it was always just flirting. Heavy flirting especially from you but just flirting.

The female titan being uncovered made everything become even more chaotic and finally when you both had gotten some sort of peace in where the main base of the survey corps were. You were spending it with your friend hoping no more disorder would come.

You sat at dinner, chewing at the bread as you leaned against Jean. He would often let you lean against him just to know that you were there, and to everybody you acted like a couple but you both knew that neither of you had admitted any feelings. You talked between yourself as the others had left themselves before it was just the two of you. They knew that once you two were deep in conversation nobody was every going to break past the two of you. Which was evident as you realised everybody had left.

“Where did everyone go?” You gestured to the empty dining area.

Jean looked around, you both had been in your own world, talking about everything you two possibly could, “they must’ve left.” He shrugs grabbing the glass of empty water. “You drank my water.”

“I was thirsty.” You try and gain sympathy, but he rolls his eyes at you.

He drops the glass looking at you again, “I wish I spat in it.”

“Gross but if you’re into that.”

“You’re terrible Y/n, I hope you know that” He mutters shaking his head, you had still been leaning against him but as you stretched, he knew what was coming.

“Come on pretty boy, let’s go on a walk.” You gesture about to stand up.

“Pretty boy, really.” He mutters but you could sense he had a thrill from hearing the words.

You pout standing up and putting your hand out, “would you rather me call you horse face?”

The nickname Eren had given him a plague on your tongue, he whipped his head to face you. Taking his hand in yours, he was a lot taller than you, but you liked the height different, it made you feel safe. “If you call me that I’m never talking to you ever again.”

You laugh at the boy before speaking, “I don’t need you to talk, just little moans will do it for me.”

He always admired your boldness, both your feelings there but never told to each other. It wasn’t like you two had even kissed yet and this had been going on for two years now. Of course your flirting always left him a mess, many nights along in his room thinking of you. Sometimes you came too close to him your breath on his neck, or it was how in your normal clothes you left a couple buttons shown to see your visible chest. Or even better how you said bold words that to anyone would only be reserved for a couple.

He knew how outspoken you were but you both had just not gone down to talking about your feelings. He himself never went to the extent you did but he loved watching you flirt with him and even make him jealous occasional by touching Eren’s arm.

He knew if in a relationship, you doing that would make him fuck you in an instant but right now he couldn’t do shit. He could only watch you flirt with him, you both had arrived outside, the breath of fresh air hitting you both.

You saw some of your friends, seeing Connie try and fight Sasha for some meat presumably. You dragged Jean the other way, wanting him all to yourself. “You’re awfully quiet, what happened am I too pretty that you’ve gone quiet?” You giggle pulling him along the narrow alleyway, he admired how you occasionally looked around to make sure he was still following even though you were the one holding his hand.

Finally getting into the open area, you sat on one of the steps waiting for him to join, you undid a few buttons. His eyes fixated on your hand movement, “I don’t bite you know, unless you’re into that.”

A blush creeped onto his face, he shut his eyes to surpress it but to no avail he became a mess under your words. He sat beside you quietly, trying to think of what to say before an idea popped into his head, “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be spending so much alone time with me, I might ruin you.”

“Ruin away.” You taunted back waiting for a comeback, he smirked facing you your head rested against his shoulder whilst looking up at his face. He was a pretty boy, you could imagine him ruining you, you had been known back in your town as timid and quiet, but it was really because nobody really took an interest in.

But Jean, he was perfect having come up to talk to you and as time went on you grew comfortable enough to stop being timid and be the loud outspoken person you are today. And it was all down to the hot head.

He touched your thigh rubbing is fingers up and down, a friction making you tense up. He had never gotten this close, never done this before but you liked it. “I bet you’ve spent countless nights thinking about me, you enjoy taunting me because it gives you a thrill, but both of us know that when we’re alone you’re just a hot mess…” He paused taking a breath, “just for me.”

You knew he was right, the nights tossing and turning not able to sleep, with thoughts of him touching and kissing you. Your cheeks erupted in a flush on embarrassment. You were the one to get shy this time, he grabbed your face, moving his lips closer to yours whilst speaking, “now whose the flustered one.”

He edged closer and closer before you closed your eyes and kissed him softly, the fireworks that erupted inside of you made you melt under his touch. He guided the kiss with his hand, making sure that you were comfortable but satisfied by it all, it deepened with his hand grabbing your thigh to bring you closer. You could almost feel his own thighs beneath him, his teeth tugging at your lip to gain access for his tongue. You obliged with ease, the movements of both your tongue perfectly balanced with soft moans erupting from your mouth. You felt dazed but enjoyed every second of it, because you had finally gotten the kiss you had dreamt about.

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vibraniumwing · 3 years

Text

my heart belongs to you.

a neville longbottom x reader wherein despite of everyone wanting the reader, the reader’s heart only belongs to a certain gryffindor.

WARNING: long fic (really), slow burn, mentions of blood (nothing too bad) but aside from that, nothing else.

A/N: okay so this is an anon request and i honestly just got carried away in writing this. this is so adorable and akdfnksjf okay nonnie i hope you like this. also, this is the first long fic i’ll be posting so aaaa yay for me i guess ?? anyways here, let me shower you with neville fluff. also do you like the banner ?? its kinda bad i know, but i made it uwu

word count: 5.6k

---

The Sorting Ceremony is always exciting for any person who shall start their journey in any Magical school, but if you were a 15 year old in the middle of small 11 year olds, it was hard to say that you could feel the excitement due to the shyness that took over you; sticking out like a sore thumb wasn’t exactly all that pleasing.

As you reached the front of the Great Hall alongside the tiny children, almost all the boys had their eyes on you, instantly swooning at how elegant you carried yourself; causing half the girls inside the room to roll their eyes at how many men were already having heart-eyes at you.

You didn’t have a clue what the other students were thinking but it made you shift uncomfortably, feeling everyone’s eyes at you and how the whispers seemingly all arrow down at you.

“I wonder who’s that,” Ron whispered to Harry, motioning to the front, his eyes trained on you, “Seems like she’s in our year.” the ginger continued, lifting his head to get a better view of you.

“(Y/N) (L/N)!” You were called by Mcgonagall, motioning you to sit as the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, the pounding that your heart had is ringing through your ears; the anxiousness settling in as the hat made its judgement, “GRYFFINDOR!” it exclaimed, causing the long table of students who had red adoring their robes to cheer quite loudly.

Slowly getting up, you made your way to the long table where a few cheers and greetings came across your way from the students. Your eyes were frantic in searching for an empty spot at the table, spotting one to next to a boy with round glasses.

You walked over to the available seat, hesitantly motioning if the spot was taken by anyone, to which the brunette replied with, “I-It’s not taken.” as he barely spared you a glance. Quietly thanking him, you sat down; it was an awkward encounter, no doubt, but you couldn’t blame him You were as timid as he is when it comes to meeting new people.

“Seriously Harry- Alright let me switch places with you.” The girl next to him said, motioning the two of them to swap places which the other happily complied with. She then turned to face you with a warm smile, “I’m Hermione Granger” She introduced herself, offering her hand which you gratefully accepted and shook.

“I know you’ve heard already but I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N). I studied in Ilvermorny for the first four years before moving back here because of my dad’s work,” You properly introduce yourself, now settling down on the bench as the food popped up from the table, making you jump lightly. “Pleasure to meet you, Hermione.”

She smiled once more, “The pleasure’s mine.” her words calming the nerves that had been bugging you since the start of the night. As the two of you turned to silence, you took this moment to finally munch on some snacks.

The two males next to her nudged her from behind, making the girl look at them with a serious face, discussing something in a hushed tone before turning back to you, “So (Y/N), these two are my friends” Her words making you look at her with a small smile.

“I’m Ron Weasley.” The ginger introduced, giving you a single nod which you returned.

The one with round glasses then spoke up, “I’m Harry, Harry Potter” as he mirrored the smile you had.

You looked at the both of him with a happy expression, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

The night then rolled on normally—with the exception of Umbridge’s interruption of Dumbledore’s speech— and you soon found yourself walking up the moving staircase with the trio. Usually, it was hard for you to converse with anyone at first meet but something about these three just made you blend in so well.

That’s when you knew you would fit right in.

---

The next day soon came and you were skipping your way down to the Common Room to go head for breakfast when a tiny firework that burst in front of your face made you stop in your tracks. The quiet little pop it made resonated throughout the room of what seems to be rather sleepy first years who were also waiting on their friends.

“Oh sorry about that!” A rather tall ginger approached you, giving you a sheepish grin as he rubbed the nape of his neck. Your eyes observed how he shared the freckle-littered skin Ron has and how he sported the same fiery orange your friend has. ‘Must be his brother’ You thought, shrugging lightly as you sat down by the table. “No harm done, Weasley.”

The surprised look on his face was dead give away that your guess was correct, “How’d you know I was a Weasley?” he questioned, grabbing the seat next to you as he squinted his eyes, “Are you a Legilimens?”

His question made you laugh, shaking your head the thought he had, “Sadly, I’m not. The freckles and the hair were pretty solid evidence that you are— not to mention, the reaction you had when I called you by your last name.” You explained, the shit-eating grin never leaving your lips as his face contorted into one of amazement.

He was about to open his mouth when someone who looked exactly like him popped up from behind him, “Freddie, getting along already with the new girl?” making ‘Freddie’ look at him with a smirk similar to yours, nodding. “Well I was about to, George.”

“You two are twins?” You suddenly asked, making the two of them stop in their conversation to look at you; the realization of how stupid your question was made you visibly cringe, your nose scrunching up as you shook your head, “Okay wait, let me rephrase that queston— who’s who?”

The two chuckled lightly, the one standing leaning against the backrest of the chair as the other one leaned forward on the table. “Try to guess who is who” they both replied at the same time, confused even more.

“Oh stop it you two” Another ginger spoke up, making you look at her in surprise. You took note of how she had the same features the twins and Ron had, thinking that maybe she was their sibling as well. She was with Hermione who was looking at you rather curiously.

“Sister dearest, we were only asking if she could tell who is who” the one standing answered, giving you a knowing look to which you rolled your eyes playfully at the way he was so laid-back with his actions.

“Just so you know, I don’t even know your proper names. I only heard you say Georgie and Freddie.” You retorted, standing up and walking over to the two girls who were already giving them smirks.

The girl from earlier spoke up as you joined them, “I’m Ginny, by the way. Theirs and Ron’s youngest sister.” She introduced herself, giving you a warm smile to which you mirrored, offering your hand, “I’m (Y/N)”

“The one standing is George and that one on the chair is Fred.” Ginny explained, pointing at the twins who were playfully scowling at the girl for giving away their identity so easily.

You turned back to look at them, “Pleasure to meet the both of you” You say, bowing playfully before looking back at Ginny and Hermione who were quietly snickering, “Right, shall we go get breakfast now?”

---

The rest of the day flew by rather quickly, you’ve enjoyed all your classes except your Defense Against the Dark Arts (for obvious reasons) but that didn’t really affect your day.

You were now lounging around the Common Room with Ginny, watching how Fred and George were selling their products to first years, laughing at the effects of the treats they were giving them. “Your brothers are natural businessmen, Ginny.” you commented, sitting back down on the seat comfortably.

Ginny shrugged lightly as a proud expression painted over her face, “They’ve got a knack for trouble that’s for sure, but their inventions are no doubt the best.” She said, getting comfortable on the floor as she leaned back into the seat that you were in.

Your eyes roamed the room and you saw a brunette quietly tending to his Mimbulus Mimbletonia alone, you didn’t know what it was but he immediately piqued your interest as you remembered him to be the one to speak up after Harry and Seamus’ feud the night before, making you tap Ginny’s shoulder, “Who’s that?” as you motioned to the male.

Ginny looked over to where you pointed at, “Oh that’s Neville Longbottom” she replied, looking at you curiously, “What’s up with him?”

You shook your head, eyes never leaving his peaceful expression while caring for his plant, “He does quite well in taking care of his plant. It just intrigued me, that’s all.” you lied, shrugging as you tore your gaze from him to look back at Ginny.

She nodded, “I’m guessing you have a thing for plants as well. You’d get along with him, he’s invested in Herbology.” Ginny shared, munching on the muffin she had sneaked out from the kitchens and looked back at you. “He’s very shy at first but he’s no harm.”

You hummed softly, pretending to look back on the book that was resting on your lap as your eyes glanced at him from time to time, biting down on your lip in an attempt to stop the smile that the butterflies in your stomach are starting to give you.

“Oh just go over there and stop being a wuss and go talk to him, I’m sure he’ll like you.” Ginny nudged, head secretly pointing at the male with a devilish smile on her lips.

Knowing that devious smile of hers meant trouble, you gave in and stood up, glancing down at her with a ‘if this fails i will jinx you’ look before making your way towards the quiet Gryffindor. You were always nervous when approaching people for the first time, but nothing could compare to how you were feeling right now.

“That’s a Mimbulus Mimbletonia, right? Those are very rare.” You spoke up as you reached the table, giving Neville a small smile as he looked at you with a surprised expression. “My mom only saw that once back at my aunt’s place in America, the nasty little thing spurted out this sap that smelled so rancid.” You shared, laughing softly at the memory.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way” You introduced yourself, giving him a warm smile as you grabbed the vacant chair and sat across him, playfully peering through the magical plant.

“I’m Neville, Neville Longbottom” he introduced himself, carefully moving the plant to the side to get a better view of you. His cheeks were flared at the realization that the girl everyone was talking about was talking to him, let alone be the first to approach. “Y-You seem like you know a lot about magical plants.” He continued, placing the tweezers he was using on the table, putting his attention on you.

“My mom’s a Herbologist so I’ve started young, honestly” You told him, looking at the plant before looking back at him with a grin, “Where on earth did you get this plant in the first place?”

His eyes glanced at the plant before looking back at you with a proud expression, “This was a gift to me” making your lips form a small ‘o’ in amazement.

“Actually, did you know that…”

The conversation that soon followed was so natural and fun that you didn’t even notice the Common Room slowly being emptied out, until Neville brought it up. “Oh, we’re the only ones left” he said, making you look around to see that indeed, the two of you were left.

“Oh we should head back to our dorms then” You told him, standing up from your seat and gave him a smile, walking towards the stairs and turning around to look at him, “See you tomorrow, Nev”

This made the male turn around and sported a toothy grin, “See you, (Y/N).”

---

“Okay fifth-years, today we are learning about the Chinese Chomping Cabbage and how to re-pot them.” Professor Sprout’s voice echoed through the Greenhouse, making all of you look at the teacher, peering over to see the plant chomping on a carrot. You’ve encountered this plant numerous times due to your mother’s side-job of growing these to brew Skele-Gros.

You leaned to your side to whisper to Neville about your experience with the said magical plant, but when you turned around, Neville was pushed to the far back and was placed with an unfamiliar face, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Uh, not to be rude or anything but who are you exactly?” you questioned the boy, upset that your friend had been kicked to the back of him and his side goons.

A confident smirk washed over his lips and stood proudly, “I’m Callum Williams, a Ravenclaw.” the young boy introduced, making you smile at him with disinterest, turning back to listen to Professor Sprout who was already showing everyone how to carefully re-pot the biting creature without getting hurt or breaking anything.

“Alright now, carefully-” Her voice was drowned out with the same boy whispering in your ear, “These are Chinese Chomping Cabbages. Saw a few of them myself back in the summer.” Callum shared, making you look back at him with an irritated expression, nodding and turning back to listen to the teacher in front.

“Now, do it yourselves” Was Professor Sprout's last instruction, giving everyone the leeway to do their own thing in replacing the biting vegetable. Your eyes looked back at Neville who was already readying the next pot for the plant, looking up to meet your gaze and shoot you a grin, making you shoot him an apologetic one in return.

You heard the male next to you clear his throat, making you sigh and look back at him, “As I was saying, these plants couldn’t do no harm to me at all. Look.” Callum boasted, playfully waving the wand at the calm cabbage making you widen your eyes, knowing better than to do something as foolish as that.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you-” but your words were too late for the poor boy as the plant reached over and chomped on the wand, effectively bending it in half, making you cringe and snicker at his own ignorance of the subject.

“Mr. Williams! Haven’t you been listening to what I instructed? 5 points from Ravenclaw” Professor Sprout said, making everyone from his house groan and the male blush a deep hue in shame for his actions, making you look at him with a teasing grin, patting his shoulder.

“Maybe try not to be a show-off next time and listen to the professor’s instruction.” you said, your tone a very teasing one as your irritation from earlier was slowly fading away, seeing Neville laughing quietly to himself.

The sight gave you the same butterflies you felt the first time you saw him, making you smile as you tended to the plant in front of you.

---

After William’s attempt in flirting with you, a lot of other boys tried to sway your emotions with gifts and Herbology facts after knowing your love for the subject, but all of them deemed ineffective as your eyes were only trained to one person, who was actually sitting in front of you.

“Hey (Y/N), are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” McLaggen suddenly approached, plopping down on the seat next to you, his awful cologne hitting your senses way too soon making you shift away from him.

“Uh yes, I am actually.” You answered, trying to be polite as you went back to your dinner, praying to Godric that he leaves you alone. His mere presence annoys the living light out of you and you aren't sure how long you can keep up this kindness for him. “I’m actually going with someone, if you were going to ask that.”

This came as a surprise for the male, making him look at you in disbelief, “and who might that be?”

“Neville. I’m very much excited for tomorrow, actually.” You were quick to answer, making the boy in front of you choke on his dinner, caught off guard at the mention of his name, but was quick to catch on, coughing as he sipped on his pumpkin juice.

“I can’t believe this,” Cormac said, shaking his head as he stood up, retreating back to his original spot, making you sigh in relaxation, actually happy that he was gone.

“I’m so sorry about dragging into this mess, Nev.” you apologized, giving him a sad smile, feeling bad about using him to get away from a male yet again.

He shook his head, brows furrowing lightly as he leaned into the table, a small smile on his lips, “I was actually planning on asking you after dinner.” Neville said, making you blush in surprise, the butterflies in your stomach.

“See you tomorrow then.”

---

“A little bird told me you scored a date with your lil ol’ crush” Ginny’s voice bounced through your dorms, making you bump your head against the cover of your trunk. You looked back at her with a slight glare as you rubbed the spot you’ve hit.

You then looked at Hermione who was pretending to read a book, failing to hide the smile that was on her lips, “It’s not a date!” You told Ginny, resuming to find a sweater you were going to wear for tomorrow’s event with Neville.

“Oh sure it’s not and I’m not a Weasley” Ginny answered back, sitting down beside you with the same shit-eating grin plastered on her lips, “If it’s not a date, why are you desperately looking for something to wear tomorrow, hmm?”

This made you drop whatever you were doing and looked at the ginger, realizing that you were, in fact, a worried mess for tomorrow. You never cared for what you wore during your weekends at Hogsmeade, usually throwing on whatever was for the weather and headed down with Ginny and her friends, but there was something different with Neville.

“Okay maybe I am worried for tomorrow, what if I look ugly and he takes it back and goes with his friends instead?” You sighed, shoulders slumping at the thought.

This was where Hermione chimed in, looking at the mess of clothes before sitting on your bed, “That’s where you’re wrong, (Y/N). Have you seen how Neville looks at you? He’s clearly mad for you.” She exclaimed, quite surprised that you’ve said that about yourself.

“Clearly, you haven’t seen the amount of boys who try to hit on you because you’re all googly eyes for him.” Ginny continued, also looking into the trunk when she saw the perfect gray knitted sweater for you to wear. “Now how about this?”

You turned to look and saw the sweater, making you nod in agreement, “Alright. I’ll wear this one then.” taking clothing from her and folding it by your lap, looking at the both of them with a smile, “I don’t know how I’d survive without the two of you.”

“We know.”

---

You looked at yourself once more in the mirror, straightening out the jacket you wore over your knitted sweater and headed on down to the Common Room to see Neville waiting for you by the end of the stairs.

“Good morning, (Y/N)” he greeted, giving you a smile as you stood beside him, securing his scarf before motioning you to walk with him, “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Nev.”

---

“Where on earth are you taking me, Mr. Longbottom?” You asked him, following his brisk movement along the village, your teeth chattering from the cold wind gushing through your face.

He stopped in his tracks, facing you with a small smile, “You’ll see soon enou- wait are you cold? Why didn’t you tell me?” Neville said, quickly taking off his scarf to wrap it around your neck, securing it with a loose knot.

“B-but what about you?” You asked him, eyes wide at his gesture.

He shook his head and replied, “I’m not that cold anyways. Keep that as long as you need it.”

And with that, the two of you kept walking until you reached a somewhat run-down inn, your eyes reading ‘Hog’s Head Inn’ sign before noticing Dean who was waiting by the door, “Took the two of you long enough! Let’s go in, it’s freezing in here.” He shouted, opening the door to the pub before turning back to the both of you, “By the way, nice matching sweaters,” He teased, making the two of you look down to see that indeed, you were wearing the same clothing.

“L-let’s go in, shall we?” You asked, motioning to the door. Neville shyly nodded, walking towards the door and opening it for you, “After you, (Y/N)”

You smiled, walking inside the shabby looking place with him behind you.

---

The next sort of events happened in such a whirlwind, finding your eyes wide in surprise at what Harry had gone through within his stay at Hogwarts. You believed that You-Know-Who was back because of your Aunt’s warnings to stay in America rather than to go back to London; but you didn’t know that it was Harry who had faced him the flesh.

You had this big resentment towards Umbridge as well so you were completely on-board with joining this secret organization your friends have made. “D-did he really kill a Basilisk?” you whispered to Neville, eyes still on Harry as he explained what could possibly happen when you’re actually in battle. Neville nodded, “He did, it was amazing how he did it honestly.” he replied, making you nod in agreement.

“That’s why we need your help, because if we’re going to have any chance at beating—” Hermione explained, stumbling over her words “—Voldemort.” she finished, glancing at all of you before looking back at Harry.

“He’s really back?” The boy in front of you (which you learned his name to be Nigel) asked, making Harry nod once.

“Well then, if You-Know-Who’s really somewhere out there, I’m here to support Harry any way I can.” You spoke up, giving the trio a knowing smile which they returned with grateful faces.

You were now writing your name on the list of students who would join Dumbledore’s Army when Ron leaned in to whisper, “You and Neville look great together” making you look at him in shock, shaking your head immediately as his assumption. Your head snapped up and looked at Ron, then at Hermione and Harry who were agreeing with Ron.

“W-we’re just friends, nothing else.” You denied, knowing that he doesn’t feel the same way as you do. You shot the three a small smile as you set the pencil down, walking over to Neville who was chatting with Dean.

“Blimey (Y/N), you even have Neville’s scarf? Is there something going on between the two of you?” The talled boy asked, making the both of you shake your head in disagreement, cheeks both flushed red at the question.

“We’re friends, Dean.” Neville was the one to answer this time, giving you a tight-lipped smile as he looked back at his friend to resume whatever topic they were speaking about.

You were the first one to deny any speculations about the two of you, but why were you so hurt when Neville was the one to say it?

---

The holiday break was over and all of you were back at Hogwarts, meaning that the D.A meetings were back on track and you were more than ecstatic to learn more spells. You were arranging your clothes back into your drawer when you caught sight of an unfamiliar scarf, grabbing it from under the heap of clothes, you finally saw the scribbled “Longbottom” on one of the ends.

You smiled fondly, recalling how he gave it to you without hesitation, making your heart flutter at the gesture. Bringing the piece of clothing up to your nose, you can barely pick up Neville’s minty scent, making you smile even more.

“I guess it’s time to give you back, I guess.”

---

You carefully looked around the hallway, eyeing for anyone from the Inquistorial Squad before entering the Room of Requirement.

Instead of seeing a room filled with students, you were greeted by Neville and Harry’s backs, deep in conversation. “I’m quite proud to be their son.” Neville’s voice echoed through the empty space, “but i’m not sure if i’m ready for anyone to know just yet.” He continued, his voice laced with sadness.

You knew what he meant, remembering every story he’s ever told you about his parents, how his mother would give him gum wrappers whenever they visit— even showing you how many he’s kept over the years of him visiting with his grandmother— and your heart swelled even more for the boy, knowing that what he’s doing is not only for himself, but for his parents as well.

“We’re gonna make them proud, Neville. That’s a promise.” Harry’s voice soon followed and as their conversation stopped, you stepped in, clearing your throat. The both of them looked back, relieved to see that it was only you.

“Mind if I have a word with Neville, Potter?” You asked, to which he shook his head, stepping aside and playfully motioning his hand over to the latter, patting him on the shoulder before leaving the two of you alone.

Your heart was pounding at the sudden quietness that enveloped the two of you, your hand gripping the scarf tighter, “Neville, just so you know, I think your mum and dad are very proud of you.” you said gently, stepping towards him with a warm smile, to which he returned with a similar one.

His eyes avoided yours, the tip of his ears red that you’ve caught him in such a vulnerable state, “And if it means anything, I’m also very proud of you.” you added, stepping another inch closer, now making him look at you.

When he looked into your eyes, Neville only saw sincerity and love filling them, making his heartbeat quicken in its pace. He’s always had a crush on you but he never really put anything into action because of the fear that you might not feel the same way. He was about to open his mouth, about to admit his feelings when you heard the door open once again, the voices of the other members filling the room.

He shut his mouth and sighed in defeat, thinking that maybe it wasn’t the right time for his feelings.

“H-here’s your scarf, by the way. I accidentally brought it home for the break.” You spoke up, coughing lightly as your cheeks reddened, realizing how close the two of you were before stepping back to hand him his scarf, “Good luck with today’s spells, Nev.” You bid him before turning your back to run towards Ginny and Hermione.

---

“A full-bodied patronus is the most difficult to produce but shield forms can also be queally useful against a variety of opponents.” Harry explained, walking around the litter of students who were trying their hardest to conjure their patronus.

You were by the corner, struggling to even produce a single stream of light when Harry spoke up again, “Fantastic, Ginny!”, making you look her way to see that she had actually conjured a full-grown horse while you couldn’t even make anything out of it. Your shoulders were slumped at the frustration you feel for yourself.

“Think of the happiest thing you can.” You heard the golden boy’s voice once more, causing you to avert your attention to Neville who was also struggling to make his patronus, smiling at how adorable his focused look was.

Your eyes lingered around everyone who was fascinated by the animals that filled the Room of Requirement, amazed at how powerful happy memories are to protect a person. As you turned to look at Ron, you were surprised to see the figure of a Jack Russell Terrier run and knocking an unsuspecting Neville down.

You snickered quietly at your friend’s unfortunate set-up, you closed your eyes to try and focus on something that truly made you happy; head raking through the endless memories you have made with different people that made your heart bounce with joy.

Until Neville’s goofy smile popped up in your mind, making you smile at the small memory of his features carved deep within your mind and heart.

As you opened your eyes, you muttered the incantation and with the flick of your wand, a St. Bernard dog leaped from the ray of light and wagged its tail, walking around the people in the room.

Your head turned around to call Neville, wanting him to witness this moment when a sudden boom echoed from the other side of the wall, making everyone stop in their tracks. The spirit animals of the students slowly vanished as the wall of their entrance continued to create noise.

As Harry and Nigel got closer to the source of the noise, Neville was quick to rush to your side and put you behind his back as small pieces of the wall flew around the room. You peeked against his side, heart racing as his subtle minty smell filled your senses, managing to calm down your fast heartbeat.

The next thing you knew, the whole wall imploded and Neville’s arms were around you, shielding you from the big chunks of the wall. As he let go, you saw Umbridge, Flich, The Inquisitorial Squad and a guilty looking Cho on the other side.

---

You balled your hand into a fist as you walked out of the Great Hall, jaw clenched as you tried to fight back the tears that welled up.

Dumbledore’s Army had been caught by the Inquisitorial Squad and all of you were sent into detention, forced to use the black quill that engraved deep scars into your hands, as “a reminder of what happens to students who disobey the rules”

As you reached the Common Room, you sat down by the couch, letting your wounded hand’s blood freely drip down. You were too tired to even cast a basic healing spell on yourself, drained from Umbridge’s horrid ways.

Almost lulled into slumber, you’ve been awakened by Neville who grabbed your wounded hand and continued to clean up the mess, gently wiping away the blood with his handkerchief. Silence wrapped the both of you up comfortably, his wordless actions making a warm feeling spread across your chest, sending you into a wholesome state of euphoria at the realization of how much you adored the dark-haired boy.

“Neville” You whispered, making his brown eyes meet yours for a split second before placing your lips against his slightly chapped ones, capturing it in a sweet kiss.

His eyes were wide with your sudden gesture, remaining still as the both of you stayed in that position. Neville was in more than just disbelief, his heart beating out of his ribcage when he felt you slowly pull away from his lips, frowning subtly at the loss of your warmth against him. He searched for the adoration that he’s always seen in your (E/C) orbs, finding comfort in knowing that his feelings were reciprocated.

That the girl who had everyone wrapped around her finger, returned the emotions he swore to keep under the carpet.

His silence broke your heart, thinking that you were rejected and you ruined the only thing that made you happy. “N-Nev, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what came over me, you just looked so perfect and-” but what you didn’t expect was for his lips to be reconnected with yours, his larger hand holding your smaller ones gently, thumb coaxing against your knuckles.

Neville broke away from the kiss, opting to rest his forehead against yours as he asked, “Y-you like me too?” his voice laced with hope and happiness as his eyes met yours once again.

You hummed in agreement, letting your other hand reach up to place it against his neck, the pad of your thumb coaxing his soft skin, “I’ve always had, Neville.”

Leaning back, you saw the confusion etched on his features, “But there were so many boys who are much more good looking and worthy than me, s-so why?” He asked, tone now filled with worry at the realization that he might not be the right person for you.

“Because it was always you Neville. In the sea of people who liked me for my physical appearance, you were the only one who looked passed that and saw me for who I really was. You are worth so much more than what you think of, my love.” comes your answer, heart fluttering at the sight of him leaning into your palm, feeling the tension of his body release.

“I may not come from much, (Y/N), but I promise to always protect you. I promise that my heart only belongs to you.” Neville said, showing you the same smile that filled your heart with joy, the memory that made you the happiest.

“So does my heart, Neville. My heart belongs to you.”

---

BONUS:

“Oi Fred! George! You owe us four sickles” a certain Weasley and a brown haired girl whispered, overlooking the sweet moment the two of you shared by the stairs.

As much as they loved the slow burn the two of you had, they needed their own fun by placing bets who would confess their love first and how it would go down. Your two friends betted that you were the first to move while the twins went with Neville.

“Merlin, remind me to never trust Longbottom again.”

“I swear this is your fault, Freddie.”

---

TAGS: @theweasleyslut @eunoia-kth @starlightweasley @minty-malfoy @glimmering-darling-dolly @sailor-maddie101 @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @ge0rgeweasley @loony-loopy-lupinn

#neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x y/n #neville longbottom x you #neville longbottom fic #neville longbottom fics #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom fluff

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btsmosphere · 3 years

Text

Crossing Paths - drabble from the Crossfire universe

request from @excusemyuwus -

I remember Tae said he had a crush on her while working on that project so now I kinda want to see his pov of that time and how he was holding being around his crush lol, not gonna lie gangster Tae all nervous bc he like someone is something want to see (also imagine how much the guys would tease him uwu)

tumblr ate your ask when I tried to answer it, sorry! this is the only part I had copied, but if it ever resurfaces, I shall answer there. for now it is still refusing to cooperate so I am posting like this! (update: the ask just returned, it is here)

~pairing: taehyung x reader ~word count: 1.4k ~pre-relationship, fluff, angst, slice of life, mafia au, college au ~rating: g ~warnings: vague mention of gang activity, this is a gang au after all, but it’s not particularly prominent

~a/n: thank you for your great request! this was so nice to come back to, I am so sentimental about this series as my first bts fic🥰takes me back to when I was just getting into bts… it felt hard to do it justice! because of this, sorry it took me a while to write, but I wanted to do it well, and again I kept the theme of making my ‘drabbles’ wayyy longer😅final big thanks to the site being frustrating and eating drafts and such🙃🙃but here it is, finally seeing the light of day! I hope you enjoy it x

“I can tell something’s on your mind, Tae.”

Jimin stared coolly at his friend. Looking over his shoulder guiltily as he unlocked the door, Tae found the other boy with his hands in his pockets, looking expectant.

All Tae could do was shrug as he elbowed the door open, heading to ditch his bag.

“Hey, Jimin’s right.”

A light flick on Tae’s forehead made him startle, looking up to find Hobi grinning, though his head was tilted to one side in question.

“What is it?”

Jimin’s shoulder nudged his own as they sunk into the sofa.

Tae checked his phone.

“It’s just a project for class, don’t worry about it,” he pocketed his phone, ignoring their gazes, “I gotta meet with my partner in an hour.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t staying that long anyway,” Hobi slumped down too, having helped himself to a drink from the fridge, “I’m on watch with Yoongi across town.”

As the discussion turned to this week’s jobs and deals, Taehyung rested his head back against the sofa. The sounds of his friends’ conversation was like static. Instead, he was picturing the scene in class earlier, as the slideshow was flipped to show the project partners on the screen.

Tae hadn’t been too fussed, idly playing with his pen lid as he searched for his name. But when his eyes fell on it, he sat up straight.

Having only bumped into you a few times in class, he had never expected his heart to be hammering quite so hard as he quickly scanned the room for you. Sliding his things away, he had walked towards you as everyone began to file out, meeting you halfway as you did the same.

Leaning against a desk to keep his jittery hands occupied, he grinned at you.

Your returning smile, he noticed, was much more nervous, only flickering into existence for a wavering second. The two of you had only a brief conversation to sort out when you would meet, before you had practically scurried away.

His eyes had lingered on you as his smile slowly sank.

Unconsciously poking his tongue against his cheek, Tae wondered if you were afraid of him.

“Hey!”

A finger clicked sharply in front of his face. He blinked back at Hobi’s grin, Jimin bursting into laughter at his side.

“Just a project, my ass,” Hobi shook his head, dumping an empty bottle on the coffee table, “don’t wanna be late, do you?”

A radiant smile was tossed over his shoulder as Hobi left the room, front door clicking soon after.

Sending his best friend a knowing look, Jimin also gathered himself to stand.

“Have fun tonight, yeah?”

He winked. Tae protested, shooting up from the sofa with an affronted look.

“So it is a special someone?” Jimin giggled.

“You’re impossible,” Tae grumbled, trailing after him to the door, “it’s just a project, I told you.”

Jimin hummed in a way which made it very clear he didn’t believe him.

“Don’t scare them off, tiger,” he remarked, stepping outside.

Tae’s shoulders slumped. He was certain that was just what he had already done.

“I’m busy tonight. And my house isn’t free, so I can’t have anyone showing up here.”

Namjoon chuckled across the line.

“All this for a college project?” Clearly he had heard about this from the others. “If you could lend Kook some of your commitment to school, that would be great,” he teased.

Sighing, Tae spun around to survey the road outside his window, ruffling his own hair.

“You’re very funny, but I need to go. See you tomorrow.”

Tae was certain he would never hear the end of this from the others. It was true that he had firmly set aside time for your meeting today, even if it was only for a minor college presentation. But it was important to him.

He knew that this was the only time he would get together with you, and though it would end as soon as the presentation was given, he couldn’t help but want to make the most of it. At your last meeting, he had been largely distracted by the dizzying height of your apartment, leaving him shying back from any windows.

So this left you with his house today instead.

Arriving soon after Tae’s phone call, you were both soon seated on his floor. Though you mostly worked in quiet with occasional, quick conversation, it was not awkward. Your legs lay close together under the coffee table as you scribbled away diligently on its surface.

Glancing over the lid of his laptop as his fingers hung idly, Tae sighed. Watching as your pen swirled across your notebook, he let his eyes drift across your focussed features.

He swallowed as he did so, teeth tugging his lip. A light frown came over your features. He couldn’t take his eyes away from your lips as your pen lifted to your mouth, resting between your teeth as you mulled the work over, eyes flitting about the page.

Eventually, the lack of tapping at his keyboard must have got through to you. You raised your head.

Too late to divert his gaze, Taehyung cleared his throat and muttered a proposal for a break. Eager as well to put your work aside, you clambered from the floor to join him at his offer of a drink.

Moving through to the kitchen, he made casual conversation, asking after your dad. Last time there had only been a brief meeting, as he met Tae at the door before you hurried him away.

Picking up on his offer to chat, you teased Tae for his fear of heights, giggling over how he had screwed his eyes shut whenever he had come within sight of the view from your windows.

Of course, Tae tried his best to roll his eyes at you, but the smile dragging the corners of his mouth refused to be suppressed.

He poured your drinks. When he turned away to put the cartons back in the fridge, he took a breath, trying to settle himself. Why did he feel so flustered?

Squaring his shoulders a little more, he turned back, only for his hand to catch one of the glasses. It clattered against the surface, barely leaving time for him to jump back and avoid being splattered with its contents.

You hopped from your seat, ready to help.

Swallowing down his shock, Tae scratched at the back of his neck to hide his slightly trembling hand.

“Don’t worry,” he quickly muttered, flashing a nervous smile as he gathered towels and set to cleaning up.

Soft laughter followed from you. Still, you reached across to help.

Righting the glass and taking one of the cloths to clear up, your hand came concerningly close to Tae’s own. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the countertop, his cheeks warm even as you finished and he was rooting in the fridge again for a refill.

You seemed miraculously unfazed by his flailing, though, he noticed as you finally settled beside each other sipping your drinks.

“So it went well?”

Jimin nudged a reluctant Tae, eyebrows wiggling all the time.

“Yes, fine,” Tae groaned, trying to shrug him off.

Jimin did stop, but only in favour of staring at his friend with doleful eyes.

“Don’t be like that. You’ll see her again. You literally share a class!”

“It’s nothing like that,” Tae refuted.

He even halfway believed it.

You had got on well together, but surely not more than could be expected of most classmates? He sighed a little as he thought of it. It had been fun, but there was no excuse to spend any more time with you.

Besides, sparing one night to work on a project was a little different to becoming friends, or even more…

There was a reason the bangtan boys stuck to themselves.

But as he reminisced, he knew he had a soft spot for you, even if it should come to nothing. The project was over, the presentation given, but he still remembered the way you bounced with excited relief after you had finished talking to the class. Your face was glowing as you high-fived him with a grin, the work having paid off.

There was still a hint of nervousness though, and you had only given a timid smile and a small ‘see you later’ before heading out of class.

And that was the end of it.

But Tae smiled to himself. It had been fun, and he knew he wouldn’t be sorry if you ever crossed paths again.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments super appreciated always!!

Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @un2-verse @ddaechwita @taegularities

#thebtswritersclub #taehyung x reader #taehyung mafia au #bts mafia au #taehyung imagine #kim taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #btscreatorscorner #bangtanarmynet #purplearmynet #vantaenet #taehyung fluff #taehyung college au #bts college au #mafia bts #bad boy bts #bad boy taehyung

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xmint-conditionx · 3 years

Text

《the emperor’s dagger》 ch1 | myg

❦ pairing: emperor!yoongi x concubine!reader ❦ w/c: 4.5k ❦ summary: you recall the first night that you began to love your emperor more than your job required. you find yourself in a dangerous situation that surely means death if mistakes are made. being careful is your first priority, but it’s easy to forget where and who you are when you lock eyes with him. ❦ tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, the tiniest bit of fluff you ever saw, brief blood/gore descriptions, derogatory names but not in the way you think, fingering, slight begging, slight nibbling, “be quiet or people could hear” trope, a little adorable aftercare yoongi is here uwu ❦ a/n: guys get fuckin PUMPED okay. i am so so so excited to bring you this crazy story. as far as i have planned, there are 15 chapters. this has (kind of obviously) been in the works since daechwita dropped, so i’m sure you won’t have any trouble picturing our lovely king. this is a complete fantasy setting, so please do know that i am not trying to emulate any particular culture or time period.

also, please note that this is a repost of my work from a previous blog, so if it looks familiar to you, that’s probably why lmao

anyway, thanks luv, enjoy!

- minty

Blood stains your blade, glistening bright crimson in the hot sun. You’re surrounded by anguish, pain, the sounds of final breaths and final cries. The dead soldier that lies on the dirty brick in front of you, who had been alive and trying to claim your life only moments before is staring lifelessly into the middle distance. You fight the urge to close his eyes; you two could have been friends, after all. You probably have even crossed paths before. A shudder runs through you at the thought. How many of these men that will meet their end at your sword will you have known? How many of your people will have to die? Are they still even your people? You don’t want to know the answer to these questions.

What had he called you? What had he said before his sword clashed with yours?

That’s right.

“Whore.”

You never anticipated being in this situation. You had never wanted to have to fight; you only had wanted to look as beautiful as he had wielding a sword. Fighting was always something that was necessary for your people, but it was never something you would have to be doing yourself. You’d heard palace guards talking about some distant battle and thought it might be a fun adventure-- going off to war. You were wrong. You were naive. About a lot of things, it turns out.

That was a different time, when your only adventure came in the form of a secret romance. When the riskiest thing you did was love an emperor. Your emperor. Your Yoongi.

Where is he?

You look back to where you had last seen him on the battlefield. His long blonde hair shines like gold in the midday sun, only rivaling the sheen of his trusted blade. He cuts down his opponent with a decisive swing, the sick squelching sound of innards falling onto the hot stone as the man cries out. You watch as he expertly scans his surroundings, looking for anyone else that would dare challenge his skill in the chaos. He’s missing an earring, you realize. Both of you are heaving under the stress of battle. This is more than you’d ever prepared for. You don’t know if you’ll make it.

Your hesitant eyes meet his assured ones, and for an instant, sword in hand, it’s like the first night you’d snuck up to meet him in his chambers.

The dark wooden floorboards of the upper palace creaks, and you scold yourself for not being more quiet. Being caught will at the least result in a very long and extensive round of questioning by the royal guard. Trouble is the last thing you want to stir up.

Emperor Min had specifically requested you come to his private room in secret tonight, and that is a little strange to you. He has the power to have any of his women whenever he wishes, and he has asked for you to come to him under the cloak of night. Why must this time be a secret? He has had you many times before, so why must this time be hidden?

In his handwritten note that he had slipped to you earlier in the day, he instructs for you to wait until all the other concubines are asleep before you leave your wing. If you are careful, you can take a shortcut through the North Wing Tearoom and pass the guards who only patrol the center hallway. So that’s what you do.

You see that they’re far enough down the corridor that they won’t be able to detect your movements, and so you silently slip through the large ornate wooden doors. You’ve been in this room many times before, but it feels like your first time here. Everything looks so different without the familiar warm glow of lantern light. The moon’s shadows are cold and sharply cast, and a chill runs up your spine. You don’t have to even look to feel his presence. To feel his eyes on you.

He’s waiting for you, sitting at the bottom edge of his large, low bed, chin perched delicately on his folded hands. The cool metal of his many rings shine in the moonlight, and past those adorned hands, he is staring right at you. His stare is one that is unreadable to most. Nobody is ever really able to know what is going on in his head. Nobody could ever know what emotion lies behind the stare. You wonder how much time he spends in thought.

“Come,” he says, motioning in his direction.

You obey your king, stepping forward a few paces. Something on his bed catches and glints in the moonlight. A sword? You stop, only halfway to him. You could already be in trouble. If he had heard your conversation with another concubine a few days ago, heavy questioning by the easily fooled palace guards will be the least of your worries. They won’t ask questions before they kill you.

“Your Majesty,” you say to the ground, too demure to look him in the eye as you speak, fearing what he might say and do, “why have you invited me here like this?”

Emperor Min stands and almost silently completes the distance over to where you stand. His calloused palm gently grazes your jaw, thumb on your cheekbone as his fingers wind through your hair. His touch calms your racing heart, and fills your belly with strength and boldness. You finally find the courage to look up.

“I have a surprise for you, my dove,” the emperor says, and you think you see a hint of excitement in his dark brown eyes.

He quickly spins around and guides you over to where he had been sitting moments before. He picks up the hilt of the sword that was laying next to him and places it delicately into your palm, enclosing his hand around yours. You had expected him to pick up the sword, but to put it in your hands? Impossible.

“I heard you say you wanted to learn to sword fight,” he says, smiling gently down at you.

Your mouth drops; your worst fear has been realized. He had heard your hushed conversation. Surely, you were about to die. Maybe if you groveled and flattered him enough, he would spare you.

“Your Grace, it was only a passing comment. I was only in awe of how skillfully you were practicing out in the gardens. I did not mean for anyone to hear; I was simply awe-struck by your deftness. I do not truly wish to learn. It was a foolish slip of the tongue. Please, forgive me.”

Please, don’t kill me.

“My dear, are you worried about your life?” he asks.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I am,” you say, looking to the floor again. Hoping to pull out any sympathy he may have.

“I do not want you to lose your life. I want you to learn how to properly wield a sword,” he says so quietly it’s almost silent-- as if he’s afraid to even say it himself, “if that is what you want. And I would like to be the one to teach you.”

Women aren’t supposed to learn anything related to warfare, especially not something as dangerous as sword fighting. A single mistake could mean the loss of a limb, but being discovered in practice could mean the loss of a life. Even teaching was punishable by death, although you’re sure the Emperor himself would be able to keep his life intact if discovered. If anyone else had heard your words to another concubine, even if you were able to convince them it was an innocent mistake, you would likely be thrown out of the palace immediately.

Concubines don’t snitch on the little things, but if any of them had reported you sneaking out tonight, your head would surely be on the chopping block first thing in the morning. You’re all allowed so much. You live in luxury, you’re able to roam most of the palace grounds as you please, you’re dressed in some of the finest fabrics, given plenty to eat, gifted spending money, and on top of it all, you get to lay with the king. Anyone fortunate enough to be chosen for this position doesn’t do anything to risk it.

The emperor must sense your unease, because he puts his hand on your shoulder and gives it a light squeeze.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he says quietly.

What has to be hours later, you flop down on his bed; your labored breaths are the only thing that can be heard in the broad expanse of his room. You haven’t even crossed blades with him, and you’re exhausted. He only taught you how to hold it properly, how to angle a strike, and how to move, but your body pounds with soreness. Your arms and your legs are heavy with fatigue, and the cool plush comforter is a welcome sensation to your aching body. As you lay, you look up to the ornate ceiling trimmed with gold and you begin to settle your breathing. You lay the sword down between you and the side of the bed; at the beginning of your lesson it felt light as a feather, but as you were instructed to keep it up, it now feels as if it were made of lead.

He delicately sits down by your side, barely disturbing the fabric; you lock eyes with him and have to hold back a laugh. For some reason, you feel silly. You have never truly imagined that you would be in this place or situation. A woman? Sword fighting? Not just a woman, but a concubine? And with the king himself? If you had been told as a young girl that this would happen, you’d laugh so hard that you’d wet yourself. It was simply impossible! Or so you had thought.

You and many other concubines had watched Emperor Min practice his sword fighting out in the royal gardens countless times, and all of you were consumed with the grace and proficiency he could demonstrate. You were the only one, however, who ever wanted to be down there with him, taking part in the mysterious dance he was so fond of. You were the only one who had dared to speak your hidden desires, and it seems that you lucked out. You certainly served a gracious emperor.

His eyes turn into crescent moons as he beams down at you, showing off his gummy smile. You wonder why he rarely displays it; he’s always so serious when he’s in the public eye. The only other time you’ve seen as much as a smirk is when he bests his opponents in practice, his pretty lips curling into a snarl as he holds them at the point of his blade. You’ve only seen him smile when doing what he loves.

The way you look lying on his sheets, your heaving chest covered in little more than your underclothing and moonlight. Your hair spilling out in shining pools around your delicate face, which is flushed from exertion. The way you look up at him with pure bliss in your eyes. Perhaps he smiles because he likes what he sees, He licks his lips as he lets his hand wander across your decollete, which has collected a thin layer of sweat.

“I hope you haven’t tired yourself out completely,” he says, leaning in closer to you, so close that you can smell his naturally musky scent, “You’re a quick learner. You are quite good with your hands, my dear.” You flush further at his words, deep with insinuation. You would be lying if you weren’t thinking of other activities you could be doing with him, too.

“I am good at a lot of things, My King,” you return, tone laced with venom as you look up at him through heavy lashes. The chemistry between you both had always been electric. What one would put down, the other would pick up. Flirty banter was as easy for you two as breathing. Innate. Inherent. Natural. As if you were born to do it.

His hand travels down your chest and curls around your waist, giving your lax form a gentle tug upwards, so that your lips can meet his. He had only begun to kiss you recently, and as far as you can tell from the stories from the other concubines, you were the only one. You aren’t sure exactly what that means, but you also aren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or question why you’re the only one who gets to kiss the Emperor. The way he kisses you is nearly indescribable. He always starts off delicately, as if to test the waters, or as if to tease you. You haven’t decided which one it is yet, so you relish in how his lips play with yours. But you want more.

You push yourself upwards and deepen the kiss, and he responds in kind, sucking in your bottom lip to coax you into opening up for him. He has never been pushy; he has never pressured you - or any other that you knew of - into doing something you didn’t want. He has always been respectful of you and the others, which is the last thing you had expected. After all, you are just a glorified whore. And he is a king.

You part your lips and allow his tongue to dance with yours, each silently fighting for dominance. You let him win, and he takes the opportunity to climb over your frame. Noticing the sword by your side, he tosses it onto the floor. It hits the rug with a soft thud, as it has done many times that night when you had dropped it. He continues to deepen the kiss, and you can feel yourself beginning to get damp. Feeling that familiar tingling sensation run up your spine, you feel the need to reach under his silk robe and run your hands up his chest, which sends him moaning into you. He involuntarily pushes his hips against you, and you can feel how hard he is behind his night robe. It’s not like him to take his time, like this. Usually, he would have already put you in his desired position and… well, gotten on with it already. He might need some inspiration. You break the kiss by tilting your head up, and he begins kissing down your exposed neck, and fuck does that feel good.

“Your Majesty,” you whine, fist full of his soft blonde hair, “How would you like me tonight?”

He speaks in between kisses.

“What… ever could you… mean?” he says warmly against your neck.

“Would you like me on my stomach tonight? I know you’re fond of the view,” you say, playfully wiggling your hips. He pauses for a beat, and pulls back to look at you. He chuckles a little.

“I’m quite fond of this view, too,” he says, showing off his gummy smile again and leaning in to cup your breasts as he trails kisses down into your cleavage. He begins to nibble softly at your flesh as he pulls the fabric down, exposing your nipples to the night. He pinches one roughly, making you pull on his hair a little harder, both of you having to stifle a moan. How dangerous to be doing this at the risk of guards hearing! His hand wanders down your frame and then up into your underskirts, cupping your heat gently as you open your legs for him.

His fingers graze against your clit, and you feel the cool metal of his rings slide against your damp folds as he teases your entrance. You bite your lip and hold back a moan. You wish you could just tell him to hurry.

As if answering a prayer, he slides his finger into your waiting slit, coaxing more of your wetness out of you. He adds another finger, curling them up gently and pushing up against that spongy spot that drives you wild. You buck up your hips in response, and you feel him smirk into your chest. He continues to gently bite around your areolas, never quite reaching your peaks as he sets an agonizingly slow pace with his fingers. The sensations that spark through your body at his ministrations are dizzying, but they’re also incredibly frustrating. He’s keeping you just on the edge of satisfaction. What does he want you to do? Beg? You’ve never felt like you could do such a thing, but this evening has made you bold. And his touch has turned you needy.

“Your Grace, pl-please,” you plead quietly into the night.

He looks up to your face scrunched in desperation. “Oh, are you suggesting your king hurry?” he asks with a smirk, “What if he wishes to take his time?”

“Hi-His Highness may have me any way he wishes, of course,” you reply, biting the inside of your cheek to distract you from the torture, “But are the tales of your generosity false? Are you a merciless ruler, set to torture those who would only want to bring you pleasure?”

His eyes on you darken, and he pokes his tongue in the side of his cheek.

“Hm,” he considers, “I suppose I can afford to be kind tonight. After all, you’ve worked so hard already, haven’t you?”

He wastes no time in pulling his fingers out, and you clench at the loss, another groan almost leaving your lips before you’re able to swallow it. He lines his head up with your aching slit, using your wetness to coat his cock. The delicious friction against your clit makes you whine ever so gently into the space between you both, another small beg for him to fill you. He presses into you, the familiar stretch making you dizzy with lust, and buries himself in your neck once more. He quickly sets a brisk pace knowing that you both are eager, and it’s not long until you can hear how wet he makes you. The obscene wet slaps sound like bombs going off in the quiet, and your cunt drips with your slick. You briefly wonder who is the unfortunate servant who will have to clean these bed linens, because you always leave them completely ruined. The way he fucks into you makes you fall apart every time, fitting together like a lock and key.

The king’s lips find yours again, his kisses hungry and wild. You remove your hands from his hair that’s now cascading around you, falling in golden waves onto your shoulders. He’s more ferocious now, biting your bottom lip and then nibbling up your jaw where he sucks your bejeweled lobe between his lips. His hands grasp tightly around your jaw as you take him, every thrust making you more putty in his hands. His free hand curves around and cups your ass, hoisting you up and changing the angle of your hips. With every thrust, his tip grazes against your sweet spot, causing a loud moan to escape your lips, echoing in the large space. Your moan dies as soon as you register it; you shamefully tighten your mouth so that no more noise may escape, but it’s too late. You’ve already been too loud. He looks back towards his bedroom doors, and then back to you.

Something in his expression changes, and his eyes are churning with something devilish. He swiftly covers your mouth with his palm, making sure it’s firmly fastened there before speaking.

“Scream for me, little dove.”

You try to hold back as best as you can, but a particularly hard thrust breaks your resolve. Once you let out that little yelp, it opens the floodgates. Your voice is muffled by his hand as he fucks into you harder and harder, almost painfully. His tip is pounding against your cervix, and dark spots flash in your vision. You continue to lose yourself in him, eagerly meeting his thrusts with ones of your own. His other hand that was once cupping your ass, now finds your wrist and hoists it above your head, as he continues his unrelenting pace. You scream into his hand, and clench around him to bring you right up to the edge.

He leans down to your freshly-nibbled ear, and in a gravelly voice says, “Come. Come around my cock.”

As soon as his hand lets go of your wrist and makes contact with your sensitive clit, you come undone. You scream completely unhinged into his palm which is placed firmly over your mouth, and he too groans as he finishes inside of you, riding through both orgasms until you’re both exhausted. And you thought you were tired before. His heavy breaths meet yours, and you float back down from your high to find yourself resting on his comforter. He gives your jaw a final nibble, and hoists himself off of you.

You hear his soft footsteps padding on the floor as you look up at the ceiling again. The beautiful gold trim you had noted before is a large dragon, spiraled around an inset in the ceiling. He brings back a damp cloth for you to clean yourself with, and he gathers your night clothes from the floor where you had discarded them some time ago. Sword fighting in a dress is not easy, and besides, you look much better in your undergarments. He starts putting your sleepwear back on you, gingerly helping your arms through the holes. He doesn’t have to be doing this. He has never helped you get dressed before; that was a task left to each woman on their own. They had a separate and luxurious bath suite dedicated to their self-care, so why would he bother?. Sometimes the concubine mother would help if things got… interesting, but you scarcely needed help with this. Tonight was surely a night of firsts.

“Uh, thank you, Your Majesty. You didn’t have to help me dress after you finish,” you say, a little flushed from how delicately he treats you after how thoroughly he had just fucked you.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he says, hoisting you up off the bed and leading you towards his doors, “We can’t have you cleaning yourself in your wing’s washroom. You’d probably be dripping all the way back. We can’t have that now, can we?” he asks as he runs his hand down your arm, smirking lightly and raising his eyebrows, “Especially if you’d like to have another lesson.”

You gasp.

“Another? Your Highness, are you certain? Why do you risk getting caught doing this for me?” you ask, not concerned with your own safety, but of his. Even if his life isn’t at risk, the public humiliation that would surround him would be too great. Especially not now. Not in the middle of a war. The subjects of the kingdom are already on edge as it is. The trust in their Emperor cannot falter. Not now.

“Ah, come now. Don’t worry. As long as you stay light on your feet and I ensure that the worst guards in the command are at my post, we are as safe as my blade is sharp. Plus,” he adds, kissing gently against your fingers, “getting to see your beautiful skin glisten with sweat, and then getting to have you all to myself is reward enough for me. It’s definitely worth the risk.”

“My King, you can always have me all to yourself in whatever way you desire,” you say, “There’s no limit to what I can do for you. You know that.”

“Yes, dove,” he says, “I do know that, but there is one thing your king is not allowed. Something that nobody may know of. Your king is not allowed a favorite.”

You know this already. It is why the concubines exist, why you’re able to be here with him at all. You know that it is dangerous to have a favorite. Emperors in your kingdom are unable to wed, and it has always been that way. Spouses are a vulnerability, something an enemy can easily exploit. The concubines exist, like the guard, to protect the emperor in their own way. By allowing him freedom of sexual expression, he is less likely to feel the need to have a romantic partner. Having a person be treasured by the emperor only makes them a weakness. Especially now.

“Nobody can know that you are important to me. Nobody can know that it is you who holds the king’s favor; that is why we must meet mostly in secret going in forward. You’ll be removed from the palace if the officials get a notion of my fondness for you,” he says, holding both of your hands in his, “and I never want you to be missing from me, my dove.”

You understand. You have to. It’s part of the job. You knew all of this going in and you were okay knowing that you would be one of many. You didn’t come to the palace with only the clothes on your back to find a chance at love. You’re smarter than that. You’d be lying if you said being treasured by the king didn’t light a small fire inside of you, though.

You nod and give his beautiful, calloused hands a squeeze.

“I cannot keep you any longer,” he whispers, “you deserve your beauty sleep, especially after all the… exertion you’ve just done. You think you can keep quiet on your way back?”

“I think I can manage, but,” you say, “if I may be so bold, next time, I don’t want to be able to sneak back to my room. I don’t want to be able to even walk after the next time you’re done with me.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” he says, hiding a soft smile, “but even then, I would welcome it if it came from you.”

You think of the risk you’re both taking, and the consequences of being found out.

“Let's hope it doesn’t come to that, yeah?” you delicately ask, eyes asking a question you’re afraid to give voice to.

“My dove,” he says, “as long as I can help it, no harm will ever come to you. Now, get on to bed.”

You didn’t want to leave, but you know you needed to. The emperor opens the door a crack and nods at you, a silent confirmation that the guards were at the other end of the hall. A silent nod that said it was time.

You ease yourself through the small crack in the door and slowly pad toward your Northern Tearoom shortcut. You look back once more, and you see him mouth “goodnight” with a smirk before shutting the door.

Your return trip to your wing of the palace is much quieter than your first trip, and for that you are thankful. You sneak back into your room where the rest of the concubines lie fast asleep in their own beds, some of them quietly snoring. As you curl up into your bedsheets, you drift asleep thinking about how sweet his smile is. He never shows it to anyone, so why are you the one who gets to see it? After all, you’re just a whore. The emperor’s favorite whore.

#yoongi smut #bts imagines #yoongi x reader #bts fanfiction #yoongi x you #min yoongi #emperor!yoongi #concubine!reader #bts smut #xmint-conditionx #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi series #series #repost from my old blog

387 notes · View notes

doctorgerth · 3 years

Note

Hello, how ya been? Could you do “Wanna, like- I mean if you’re not busy... We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?” 'n Confession for Killer, X Drake or Bartolomeo with a female reader, fluffy, mild nsft n all that, where they like are talking to her the morning after the naughties and they're trynna ask her on a date (I hope that isn't too much expansion lmao-)

Thanks in advance uwu

❥ “Enchanted” - Valentine’s Day Event Scenario [ 2 / 14 ]

❥ prompt: “Wanna, like- I mean if you’re not busy we could get lunch? Or even just a coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”

❥ theme: Confession

❥ pairing: Drake x F!Reader

❥ warnings: light ns.fw, one night stands, implied drunk sex, brief mention of reptilian/dino sex

❥ word count: 1k

❥ a/n: apologetic, blushy Drake is my weakness. 🤧 it was nice to explore a more casual side of him! I hope he’s not too ooc in this. thanks so much for this request, my love!!

Feather-like touches tickled against your skin, jolting you awake with a sharp inhale that startled both you and the stranger in your bed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

A distant, hardly recognizable voice called out from behind you. You rubbed at your eyes, adjusting to the warm lighting of the bedroom that was most definitely not yours. As you took in the scenery, your eyes fixated on the tall wardrobe, then the mahogany desk that was adorned with a dingy vanity mirror and what appeared to be your undergarments. You were in a hotel room and the memories of last night at last became clearer; alluring memories of an incredibly handsome and adorably blushy redhead filling in the gaps.

Turning to face him, you silently prayed that your memories weren’t distorted and he had retained the handsome imagery your mind was currently painting in your headspace. As you locked eyes with him, you audibly sighed, not hiding your beaming smile as he was just as sexy as you remembered; even more so with sleep heavy in his eyes and the aftermath of last night’s events laced through his disheveled hair and printed along the pale skin of his neck like a work of art.

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t sleep too much longer anyway.” You stretched your body to life, yawning as you did so. His brows furrowed in concern as you lightly hissed when your muscles quickly reminded you how sore they actually were.

“I got you some water.” His head notioned over to the nightstand where a tall glass of water never looked so good.

“How chivalrous of you.” You sat up and covered your body with the sheets, or rather, what was left of them, and unabashedly chugged the water.

He chuckled, “Well, you did call me Mr. Chivalry last night.”

It was your turn to blush at the memories of your overbearingly flirtatious slurs of that silly nickname. You didn’t want to admit you had forgotten his real name already, but you figured you wouldn’t be able to hide your fuzzy memory for long.

“I’m sorry about that. Could you remind me…?”

“Don’t worry about it - it’s Drake. Truthfully, I don’t remember yours either and I was hoping you’d be the first one to bring up the names.”

You playfully smacked his arm, “You sneaky bastard! I’m going to have to deduct some chivalry points for that one.” He laughed this time, loudly, and it made your heart beat wildly in your chest. You were sure he could hear it too. “You’ll be paying for all of this too, as recompense.”

He groaned as you held up a tattered pillow, feathers spilling out of the seams, “I’m sorry, it seems I might have lost a little bit of control last night...”

“The biting and scales were a bit adventurous,” You discarded the pillow with a sly smirk, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time.”

Drake face-palmed with hints of red peeking between long, slender fingers, “Agh, please forgive me. I’m not usually like this. I mean, I don’t usually partake in things like this.”

“What? One night stands? Or reptilian sex?”

He stiffened, a mad blush now blooming across his entire pale face as he covered his head with the only intact pillow left, “Don’t be so blunt! But, yes, to the former. I’m going to ignore that second question.”

“So you’ve never had one before?” You inquired.

“Very few. I’m usually quick to leave before they wake.”

You gasped dramatically as you placed your hand over your chest, “Well that’s not very chivalrous of you, Drake.”

He snorted, “No, it’s not. I have many regrets.”

“Well, now you have me curious.” You joined him under the sheets again. Flipping onto your side to face him, you placed your head in the palm of your hand and offered him a wicked smile. “Why are you still here then?”

Drake inhaled deeply before slowly removing the pillow. His head rolled towards your direction, and his lips curved upwards as he inched closer to you, holding your gaze as he reached out to touch your hair, “That’s precisely what I’m trying to figure out…”

You bit your lip as you pondered for a moment, “This doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. We got what we wanted, and now we can go our separate ways. We don’t have to stay.”

His bottom lip dropped into a slight pout, “But what if I want you to stay?”

“What?”

“Forgive me if this is too forward, but, I’m enchanted by you and I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye just yet.”

Your entire body tingled at his confession and you had to pick your jaw up off the floor. Thankfully, he was too flustered himself to realize your own embarrassment.

He continued on, a nervous quake in his voice as he began rambling, “Wanna, like- I mean if you’re not busy…we could get lunch? Or even just a coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”

After some time, which felt like years to poor Drake, you responded with a playful tone, “Is this for chivalry points?”

“Well, I would very much enjoy a chance for you to see me as my true self and not just a drunken, horny mess.”

“You say that as if that side of you is so bad.”

“Please don’t tease me.”

“You make it too easy.” You giggled as you nearly leapt out of bed with pure excitement. As pathetic as it may have sounded, which is exactly why you didn’t voice this thought out loud, you were quite relieved to not have to spend Valentine’s Day alone. “Lunch sounds great! I’ll go get dressed and we can-”

He gently grabbed at your wrist, preventing you from leaving the bed just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe we could give last night another go, especially since we’re sober and you know my name now…if you’d be interested?” A mischievous twinkle gleamed in his blue irises. Sneaky, cheeky bastard you thought to yourself, such a tease and he doesn’t even know it! You rolled on top of him, still clutching at the sheets to cover yourself, a playful gleam of your own shining right back as you straddled his lap comfortably.

“Sure, as long as you don’t get another nose bleed when you see me naked.”

“Oh, of course you remember that!” He pulled you down to him with another hearty laugh hidden behind a warm blush, claiming your lips and tangling with you in the sheets once more. The two of you knew those lunch plans would in fact be changing to dinner plans.

If you enjoyed this, please be sure to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog! 💕

#doctorgerth #doc writes #scenario #Valentine’s Day Event #prompt event #theme event #romantic #steamy #drake x reader #f!reader #tw: one night stands #tw: drunk sex #lusus naturae

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jujutsu-headcanons · 3 years

Text

Team Tokyo First Years + Mario Kart headcanons

(Ft. Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, you & commentary from Sukuna)

This disaster happened because Yuji was bored. Isn't this how most shenanigans at Jujutsu Tech start?

Yuji was going through old boxes he never unpacked. Yeah, it's been months. He's lazy.

He found this one that he didn't pack himself. He pulled it out of the storage closet when Gojo helped him move from Sendai to Tokyo and he just grabbed it

He wonders what's in it

Its mostly full of cords he has no idea what they go to, a couple of headphones and

uwu what's this

Oh my gOD IT'S HIS WII

This thing is 12 y/o he hadn't seen it in at least 6 does it even still work

Looks like the controllers and cords are here let's plug it in

IT WORKS

Oh god it's so old

Okay what games are there

Just Dance, Wii Sports, Mario Kart, Cooking Ma-

MARIO KART OH GOD THE NOSTALGIA

This was his absolute favorite game to play as a kid

Can you believe he's never played it with anyone else?

He's gotta get the gang here

He texts the group chat and proposes they have a game night

Surprisingly the students answer his text really quick; Gojo seems to be off doing who knows what

Megumi knocks and lets himself in. He's only here because he has nothing better to do. That and if he had ignored the text all Yuji would do is bang on the wall or worse- come to his door

Nobara barges in as usual- why is she carrying so much stuff

Guess who just got free LED lights for their room to "set the mood?"

Uhhh Nobara why are you wearing a tracksuit it's fucking Mario Kart

Oh she's very serious about this

At least she brought snacks

You didn't even read that Mario Kart was involved you just wanted to hang out with Yuji

Okay let's get started Megumi wants to go home even if he is enjoying the bonding time

Nobara curls up in Yuji's bed as if it's her own; Megumi picks a comfy spot on the floor with his back against the bed; Yuji chooses his beanbag chair; you pick [Yuji's lap, next to Megumi w/ your legs across his lap, cuddled up with Nobara]

While Yuji picks out the perfect playlist to play from his speakers, Nobara takes the liberty of going through the Wii.

She has to make herself a Mii it's a rule

This takes like thirty minutes by itself

She edits Yuji's Mii to look more like him (since he made it when he was about eight) and names it Himbo

She makes you a Mii while over-exaggerating your height (by making it very short or very tall) and names it Pookie

She makes Megumi a Mii real fast and names it Cranky BitchBoy

Yuji tells her to be nice

She changes it to Emo Sea Urchin

Good enough

After an hour passes, they're finally ready to play

Except Yuji only put batteries in one controller and he has no batteries

They tear his room apart before finally stealing batteries from his headphones and remotes

Nobara waits until now to announce she can only race with the steering wheel

....and Megumi prefers the nunchuck to motion controls are you fucking-

Yuji tears the box apart and manages to find a fucking steering wheel and a fucking nunchuck

Okay, can we start now?

Mario Kart: Wii!! Wahoo!

Alright; should we play teams or-

"It's bad enough I have to work with you guys in real life, no"

You and Nobara are on team red, the boys on team blue

She makes it very clear she's going to make them eat her dust

She didn't say it that way btw, that's the most polite way of putting it

Yuji chooses Waluigi because he's a meme and makes funny WAAAA noises

Megumi chooses Yoshi because he's a medium character. Medium characters have a field advantage because smaller characters get bumped around while larger characters have drag. Also-

Nobara chooses Daisy because "Damn they made her so thicc".

You choose [character]

Yuji is so eager to play he doesn't care what kart he chooses

Megumi takes forever to decide between a kart or bike and finally chooses the Sneakster

Nobara chooses the Mach Bike bc of how it makes her character look

You choose [cart/bike]

You four argue over what course to do

So you end up taking turns choosing

Nobara pauses halfway through the first race because her character won't fucking turn

Yuji insists it isn't the controller so they trade for one round

Its the controller

Upon further inspection, it was deemed that it looked like the controller had been soaked in some sort of juice

It was the grape soda incident of 2010

Okay gotta get a new controller

Okay it's fixed

Yuji forgot 1) he was player one and 2) he wasn't Yoshi (his normal character) and spent two laps staring at the wrong screen

He still finished 11th. Nobara finished 7th, you finished 3rd and Megs finished 2nd

Yuji ended up catching up really fast until he started showing Nobara tips

See Nobara claimed she knew everything about the game

So Yuji showed her how to flick the remote when she jumped and how to hold the go button down when the countdown was at 2

She rlly did leave him in the dust

Yuji and Nobara lean their whole bodies with the controller while Megumi sits completely still

Nobara gets way into this game I stg she screams and yells and kicks her feet I hate it

She tries to bump your and Yuji's controllers to throw you off

"Noba-chan, I'm on your team"

"I don't give a fUCK STOP BEATING ME"

"IM ON YOUR TEAM"

"AHHHHHHHH"

Slap fight ensues

At some point, Toge comes and knocks on the door because he can hear the screaming from all the way down the hall

"Are you guys...okay?" -Inumaki language

Nobara just complains, so he leaves

You and Megumi are so fucking good at this game

Nobara starts targeting you two with shells until she realizes you're on her team and they don't hurt you

"Truce?"

All you can do is sigh

At some point, Sukuna comes out

He thinks he's a sports commentator

He announces every little thing, like when someone falls or gets shelled

Which always makes Yuji look away from his screen

Sukuna proceeds to bully Yuji for running into walls, falling off, etc.

You laugh but quit when Yuji pouts

Nobara doesn't stop laughing

Despite Yuji being an idiot and having to be carried by Megumi, blue team wins

Nobara throws her controller and screams some more

Yuji breaks out into hysterics for some reason

Megumi sighs. He gets ready to go home but-

"Sit down Fushiguro that was just a warm-up round"

Okay, fine, he'll just beat her again

Nobara pulls you and Yuji to the side

"We gotta beat Fushiguro"

Yuji was bribed with food

No teams this time

"Let's do Rainbow Ro-" "NO"

Daisy's Circuit it is

"Hey Yuu-chan can I play a song"

"Sure name-chan"

"Hey Alexa play Move Bitch by Ludacris"

AHAHAHHAHAHA MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY

This is Nobara's song. She is invincible with this song.

Maybe it really was a warm-up round, Nobara is doing much better this time

She's in first place

It looks like Megumi is getting bored, he's falling back, losing his lead

Now if his calculations are correct, when you're in last place you're more likely to get-

Bingo

"Kugisaki, do you love me?"

"What the fuck, are you going soft on me Fushigu- don't you fucking dare"

"Goodbye Kugisaki"

"STOP STOP HOW DO I AVOID A BLUE SHELL ITADORI"

"YOU CAN'T YOU'RE FUCKED"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK"

Nobara doesn't finish the race due to the fact she is throwing a temper tantrum. She throws her controller so hard she breaks the wheel, controller and puts a dent in the wall

He hides it with a poster btw

Megumi wins.

"Avenge me, name-chan"

"Noba-chan we have one last race we can still beat him"

Nobara is PUMPED

Oh my god when no was looking Megumi chose Rainbow Road

Okay pause

Whoever falls off the most is gonna be the person who fell of the least's bitch for the week

Sinister laughing ensues

In conclusion: Yuji is now your bitch

Yujikuna gets bitchslapped for making dirty remarks

Nobara is the first to tap out due to lack of controller and ends up feeding you chips while you race

You tap out and end up snuggling with Nobara as the boys pull out another game that's two player

You two fall asleep while watching them bicker over which way to go

Megumi pauses the game and the boys just end up scrolling through their phones and talking-

-Until Yuji falls asleep in the beanbag chair

Finally, Megumi can go back to his room...

...Except, you three are so cute

Its kinda like a sleepover

Y'know, he doesn't hate you guys

He's just really bad at emotions

Should he stay

Yuji does have another beanbag he can crash on

...He'll just say he fell asleep going through Twitter or something

Goodnight... Friends

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jamaisjoons · 4 years

Text

intro: her mini #6 ⤑ knj | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞singe dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 2.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: none really, reader n joon r incredibly sappy and i both hate n love them, there's some kissing but rly this is just soft fluffiness uwu

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: i lowkey hate half of this but yolo it is what it is

⏤ beta read by my girlfriend @peekaboongi // commissioned��in exchange for blm donations

⇥ Main Series Masterlist

On Hoseok’s birthday, you find yourself on a private yacht in order to celebrate. As usual, you’re surrounded by Namjoon, his sons, as well as Yoongi, Seokjin and, of course, Hoseok himself - who wanted a quiet dinner in order to celebrate. Though, realistically, a quiet dinner with three children isn’t exactly possible. Ship coasting on the gentle waters of the Han River, you enjoy the mellow, lightly chilled, breeze wafting through your hair. Despite being at the end of winter, thanks to the space heaters littered around the deck, you barely feel the cold wind.

“Noona can you help me with this?” Jungkook asks from his seat beside you - his sweet voice pulling you out of your reverie. Shifting your gaze to him, you note the way he’s pointing at the large prawn sitting on his plate - the crustacean marinated in garlic butter as it glistens under the waning sunlight.

With a kind smile, “Sure, Gukkie,” you reply before reaching over. Easily, you break off the head of the prawn before squeezing the meat out the shell and placing it onto his plate.

“You did that awfully easily, ____” Hoseok comments as he swallows down the morsels of lobster he’s chewing on. Gaze shifting to him momentarily, you casually shrug your shoulders before turning to help Jungkook deshell the rest of his prawns.

“Me too, Noona! I can’t eat my clams,” Taehyung pipes in from beside Namjoon. And shortly after him, “And my crab!” Jimin calls out from next to his twin.

Angling your head to both of them, you frown slightly - a little confused by their requests. “Have you never eaten seafood before?” you question, a small, puzzled frown marring your lips. Taking pity on the twins, you watch as Yoongi and Seokjin pull their plates besides them - helping them clean their seafood. Simultaneously, Seokjin lets out a little snort before turning his attention to you.

“Are you kidding? With Namjoon as their father?” Seokjin playfully teases, sending a pointed glance towards your boyfriend. For a moment you frown, not really understanding his words, and then, it dawns on you; your lips forming a perfect ‘o’. Namjoon doesn’t like eating seafood. Nonetheless, from your right side, you hear your boyfriend huff.

“It’s not my fault I don’t like eating seafood,” he mumbles under his breath, his lips pursing into a small pout.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t feed your sons seafood - there’s no reason they should miss out on it,” Yoongi butts in, and though your concentration is firmly on Jungkook’s food, you can clearly hear the playfulness in Yoongi’s voice.

“Yeah, Namjoonie, you may not like seafood, but your sons do,” Hoseok chimes in with a snicker. Done with deshelling Jungkook’s food, you turn your attention back to the adults, only to notice the slight tinge on Namjoon’s cheeks and the amused smiles on Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin’s faces.

“You don’t know if they like seafood or not, they’ve barely eaten it,” Namjoon tries to argue, and you shake your head slightly, already knowing he’s fallen into their trap. As soon as those words escape your boyfriend’s lips, you watch as identical, wry grins creep onto their faces.

“Oh really?” Hoseok questions, an impish twinkle in his eyes. Brown eyes alighting with mirth, he directs his attention to the boys, “Jiminie, Taehyungie, Jungkookie, do you like seafood?” Hoseok questions. Finally catching on to where this is going, a look of exasperation colours Namjoon’s face as he sullenly takes another bite of his steak.

Hearing Hoseok’s question, the boys immediately beam with bright smiles before nodding ecstatically. “It’s Hobi-hyung’s favourite so I like it lots!” Jimin replies, his cheeks puffing up as his eyelids form little crescent shapes.

Instantly, Hoseok begins cooing at the oldest twin, “That’s a good boy. Here you go, you can have a piece of my lobster,” he says while picking up some of the meat and passing it onto Jimin’s plate. Seeing the large chunk of meat, Taehyung and Jungkook immediately perk up.

“Hobi-hyung! I like seafood too!” Taehyung and Jungkook call out at once, causing Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin all to guffaw at once. From beside you, however, Namjoon lets out a defeated sigh with another shake of his head.

“I can’t believe my own sons have betrayed my like this,” he dramatically mutters under his breath. An inkling of pity runs through you, and reaching your hand out, you comfortingly pat Namjoon’s thigh.

“Not only your sons, but your girlfriend too,” Seokjin says while pointing his knife towards your plate, where small, empty oyster shells sit on the edge of it.

Pout deepening, “I can’t believe you too, babe,” Namjoon laments, causing you to quirk an eyebrow.

“And why is that?” you question, the corners of your lips twitching in amusement.

“Because! You’re a marine veterinarian! How can you work with them and then also eat them… especially when they’re so cute,” Namjoon replies, and though you want to laugh, the soft look on his face - from his adorable pout to the way his cheeks are tinged in embarrassment - prevents you from doing so.

“You know I mainly work with marine mammals right, Joon?” you gently point out, then after a brief pause, “Besides, I just like seafood,” you continue while patting his strong thigh.

“Maybe you should try some, Namjoon. Here, I’ll even give you my prawn,” Seokjin says while holding out the large crustacean towards your boyfriend. Immediately, a look of horror crosses Namjoon’s face as he baulks. Rolling your eyes, you chuck your cloth napkin at Seokjin in playful ire.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, let Namjoon eat his steak in peace,” you say. Turning his attention to you, Seokjin levels his best puppy dog eyes at you; but you simply roll your eyes and send him a pointed glare, causing him to give in with a chuckle.

“Thanks, ____. You’re the only one who supports me here,” Namjoon sighs dramatically before leaning over and pressing a kiss to your temple. Angling your head, you smile brightly at him, and instinctively, you move to press a kiss onto his lips. However, immediately, Namjoon jerks back before his nose crinkles in mock distaste. “Absolutely not, you’ve been eating seafood,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

The moment the words fall from his lips, your jaw drops open as you gape at his - surprise written all over your face at his rejection. When you hear Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin begin snickering from opposite you, you quickly shut your mouth before lightly smacking Namjoon’s thigh. Bottom lip jutting out, you huff, “That’s the last time I defend you,” you mumble under your breath. With a light chuckle, Namjoon leans in before pressing a kiss to the corner of your lip.

“I was only joking, Angel. You know I love kissing you no matter what,” he says, his voice low as his breath fans your lips.

Face softening at his words, you roll your eyes before acquiescing to him. “Yeah, yeah. Just eat your stupid steak,” you reply, causing Namjoon to grin and smack a wet kiss onto your cheek.

The rest of the dinner passes smoothly - the boys taking over the conversation as they ask a hundred and one questions about everything and anything under the sun. Eventually, however, the conversation pauses, in order to sing Hoseok a happy birthday while he cuts the cake before the eight of you share your dessert. As you continue enjoying the evening, the sun slowly fades behind the horizon, the sky darkening as night falls over, which brings you to now.

You’re currently standing at the edge of the deck - leaning on the railing while you look out at the landscape. Indolently, the yacht moves over the water, the large skyscraper buildings that make up the metropolitan of Seoul gently flitting by. The sun has completely set now, and the dark of the night only draws attention to the bright neon lights that pass you. A fresh breeze blows through the air, causing goosebumps to prickle at your skin. It’s cooler now, the crisp night air wafting over your skin as a shiver runs down your spine. Instinctively, you nestle further into Namjoon’s coat, relishing in both the scent and warmth of the large woollen jacket.

Idle chatter murmurs through the air as the conversation continues between the adults, though, you barely participate - more than happy to simply watch the landscape pass and soak it all in. Somewhere along the deck, you can hear the twins and Jungkook running around; playing a game of tag as they try to entertain themselves. Closing your eyes, you take in a deep breath - smelling the fresh air around you - before exhaling deeply. Suddenly, however, you’re broken out of your thoughts, when you feel someone tug at the hem of your dress.

“Are you okay, Noona?” Jimin asks as he looks up at you in worry. Heart clenching at the concern etched onto his delicate features, you grace him with a smile before nodding.

“I’m alright, Puppy,” you reply. Jimin frowns for a moment, his head tilting to the side - almost as if he doesn’t believe you. However, after a couple of moments, he relents with a nod. Instead, he raises his arm for you to pick him up. Bending over, you easily lift him into your arms, the small boy tucking his head under your chin as he directs his gaze out to the river.

“Noona? Are there dolphins in the Han River?” he questions, as he points out at the large body of water, and you can’t help but chuckle at the curiosity in his tone.

“No, Puppy. Han River is made up of freshwater, and while there are a few freshwater dolphins, most of the species live in saltwater,” you reply easily.

Jimin nods under your chin, but before he can open his mouth again, “Noona!” twin cries echo across the night, and the two of you are joined by his siblings. Taehyung and Jungkook come up to either side of you, Jungkook looking up with a small pout as he notices his older brother in your arms. However, rather than saying anything, he simply shrugs it off after a few moments, and turns his attention to the river.

“What about sharks? Do you think sharks live in the Han River?” Taehyung asks.

“Or maybe stingrays?” Jungkook pipes in with his own, and you laugh lowly at their questions. Clearly, they must have overheard your conversation with Jimin. Nonetheless, before you can reply, you’re joined by the rest of the party.

“How about orcas?” Seokjin questions with a squeaky laugh as he joins you.

“Hmmm, no, but maybe seals?” comes Hoseok’s playful addition.

“I’d like to think giant tortoises live in the Han River myself,” Yoongi says with a sage nod. You know all their additions are completely whimsical, yet you can’t shake your head at their teasing antics.

“Hmmm, what about whales, ____?” Namjoons asks as he comes up behind you, and with his question, you let out a deep sigh of fond exasperation, causing all of them to chuckle. Within your arms, Jimin begins fidgeting, making you bend over and put him back on the desk.

With Jimin out of your arms, Namjoon uses the opportunity to wrap his own arms around your waist before pulling you into his chest. Warmth encasing your back, you exhale deeply and nestle further into his frame. Silence falls over the atmosphere, with only the gentle whirring of the yacht’s engine and the soft sound of water rippling breaking the calmness. The eight of you stare out at the open river as the ship begins making its way back to the marina.

“It’s really pretty out here, isn’t it?” you ask quietly, your words barely audible. In fact, your voice is so low, that only your boyfriend hears you. Bending his head, he nuzzles his nose into your hair before taking a deep breath.

“Not as pretty as you,” comes his reply. Despite the cheesiness of his words, you can’t stop the grin that creeps onto your lips. Twisting in his hold, you wind your arms around his thin waist while looking up at him through the thick of your eyelashes.

“I could say the same about you, you know,” you teasingly backfire. The corners of his lips twitching, Namjoon bends his head and drags the tip of his nose against yours, causing your eyes to flutter at the ministration.

“Are you saying I’m pretty?” he asks, the deep timbre of his voice tremoring through the air as his warm breath washes over your face.

“I am, indeed. In fact, I think you’re the prettiest,” you respond, making Namjoon snort in amusement. Puckering his lips, his peppers your mouth in soft kisses, making you sigh in contentment.

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree then, because I think you’re the prettiest,” he replies, each of his words broken up by even more of his gentle pecks. Once he’s done speaking, Namjoon places his lips fully onto yours, the thick petals of his mouth slotting perfectly against yours. Tongue flicking out, he licks the seam of your lips in a bid for entrance, but rather than giving it, you pull away. Namjoon frowns at your actions, his eyebrow quirking in question as you grace him with a lop-sided, mischievous grin.

“I thought you didn’t want to kiss me because I taste like seafood,” you remind him. The moment the words fall out your lips, Namjoon’s frown morphs into a playful smirk.

“Hmmm, but you taste like wine now,” he says, before once again dropping his lips onto yours. This time, you’re unable to resist him, and immediately, your mouth parts open in access. Using the opportunity, Namjoon’s tongue slips between your teeth; the silken appendage sliding along yours tantalisingly.

Your kiss only lasts a couple of moments, before suddenly, “Ew, Daddy! Noona! Gross,” and, “Honestly, can you both go two minutes without eating each other’s faces?” echoes through the dark night. Face flushing with heat, the two of you instantly break apart. Reflexively, you bury your face into Namjoon’s chest: in an attempt to hide your mortification, while your boyfriend simply holds you tighter in comfort.

“Hey, ____?” Hoseok calls, and hearing the faux innocence in his voice, your eyes narrow. Turning your head from Namjoon’s chest, you look over at him with a quirked eyebrow. “It’s my birthday you know… So I think if anyone deserves a kiss, it should be me,” he continues with waggling eyebrows. With a blank stare, you gaze at him, your brain slowly processing his words. It only takes you a few short moments, but once you do, you can’t help but snort.

“Sure Hoseok, why not,” you sarcastically remark - already knowing he’s only teasing you. Waggling his eyebrows harder, Hoseok puckers his lips dramatically before making kissy faces at you. However, this time, before you can say anything, you find your boyfriend huffing.

Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he levels a small glare at Hoseok before tilting your body away from his best friend. “Yeah, birthday or not, I don’t think so.”

a/n: ᵘʷᵘ thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it! please lemme know what you thought if you did 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

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levisleftcroc · 3 years

Text

Hello!!! I finally decided to put a little piece of writing on this blog!! I really hope you enjoy it :D

You grumbled as your alarm went off, sticking your hand out of the covers to poke wildly around the spot where your DDD should be on the nightstand. You unplugged it and pulled it under the covers with you, quickly turning the alarm off and turning the brightness down before checking your messages, smiling when you saw the usual good morning texts from the brothers and opening the most recent one first.

Satan: :33 < Good meowning! Levi and I made breakfast! There’s plenty of ham and ch33se sandwiches as long as B33l doesn’t pounce on them first!

You blinked at your DDD. You blinked again. Was… was Satan okay? You sat up, tossing the covers off your head and rubbing your eyes before looking back at the text one last time. Yep, he definitely said that. You typed off a quick reply, reassuring him that you would be there soon but leaving out the part where you were bringing a thermometer to make sure he wasn’t running a fever. You checked the next message down the list, almost immediately doing your best impression of your favorite blinking meme back in the human realm.

L3VI: If You Have The Time I Would Enjoy Playing Mononoke Land Together This Evening As I Am Very Nearly Finished With My Monodex And I Believe You Have A Spirit I Am Missing

You… should really respond to that. But first you had to see if everyone else was typing strangely… Was there some sort of demon illness going around? Did someone mix a magical ingredient into last night’s dinner?

Lucifer: 1 HOP3 YOU SL3PT W3LL! 4SMOD3US S41D H3 W1LL T4K3 OV3R D1NN3R TON1GHT SO YOU DONT H4V3 TO >:]

Okay. This was getting ridiculous. Just a bit terrifying too. That smiley was going to haunt your dreams. This had to be some sort of prank, right? Also… what in the world did Asmo want in exchange for taking over your cooking duties? You rushed through the next three texts, your concern growing with each word you read.

Belphegor: GOOD MORNING. I HAVE IMPROVED UPON MY BLANKET FORT AND I WOULD LIKE TO TRY IT WITH YOU TONIGHT.

Asmodeus: )(ello! I can’t wait to sea you at breakfast, I’m trying a w)(ole new look today! -Expect to be impressed 38D

Mammon: g00d m0rning d0 y0u still want to see that m0vie t0night right it l00ks pretty scary 0_0

You took a deep breath as you looked at the earliest text you had received. You really, truly hoped that Beel was not affected by… whatever this was.

Beelzebub: Hewwo! I hope uwu swept weww! I can’t wait tuwu see uwu today! x3

You flopped back into your bed, staring up at the ceiling blankly. What… what was happening? You rolled off the bed, getting ready as quickly as you could before rushing down to the kitchen, ready to text Barbatos for backup at any moment. Your wool stood on end as you approached the sound of laughter in the kitchen. There, you found your seven demons gathered together, all of their heads snapping up as you entered.

“April Fool’s!” Mammon exclaimed, holding up his phone.

“Diavolo introduced us to the concept, he thought you would enjoy it,” Satan explained.

“I helped everyone pick characters to type like!” Levi added.

“I thought uwu’d like mine,” Beel commented.

Just as you were about to respond to the demons in front of you, your phone buzzed again. You looked down at the text quickly, grimacing when you read it.

Diavolo: Would you liike two come by the ca2tle 2ometiime today? Barbato2 ju2t made 2ome cookiies!

This was going to be a long day.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me x reader #i would apologize but this was too fun to write #sheep!mc lives in my head rent free

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in-tua-deep · 4 years

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Prompt idea that I sincerely don't know anywhere else to put out, but what if, one mother of the seven like... delayed giving up the baby idk why, but like, in the end the child goes to the academy, but like... they know the world outside this mansion full of all sorts of abuse and violence, and so is trying to bring good sense and awareness to all of other children somehow, even though like... you don't know very much or correctly the things in general, but is trying anyway because yeah

okay okay i will bite

it's gonna be Five bc u know how I roll by now and you didn't specify a child, so this is a non-twin world uwu

I see some people naming him Fievel so we're gonna have to go with that, nicknamed Five by the other kids who thought it was absolutely hilarious to ask "which one?" whenever Reginald snaps “Five!”

Though officially, of course, Five is number seven.

So Fievel is born in a park to a mother who was never prepared to have achild, but held him in the hospital and looked into the eyes of a man offering her money for her newborn and she says - no.

Because she’s poor, yes, and she’s working two jobs to make ends meet, and this man might be able to provide for her child but - she doesn’t like the fact that he offered her money. As though he could place a price on a human life.

(His stupid mustache might have played a role as well. Bastard.)

So she keeps little Fievel, and it’s hard. It’s so hard. Babies are expensive, and she was barely making enough as it was, but her best friend works from home and offers to take him sometimes during the day instead of a more expensive daycare. Some of her other friends ask around relatives and friends and hunt through garage sales until she has a passable amount of baby items.

It would be easier if Fievel wasn’t such a precocious child. He’s curious and into everything, a loud baby that demands attention.

“C’mon Fi,” She begs her three-year-old son from where she’s draped across the sofa. Aren’t kids supposed to sleep a lot? Why did she end up with the one kid in the world who is on the go twenty four seven? “Can we please take a nap?”

“No.” Fievel says with a mulish look in his eyes and he shoves a book towards her face and almost takes her eye out with a corner of it, “Wead to me.”

And she sighs, and she’s so tired, but she hauls herself up and pats the sofa next to her and her little boy beams at her with such - such love that it almost takes her breath away. “Dogger, again? How many times have we read this?”

Fievel kicks at her with his little soft foot, and she catches it in a hand and smiles and she drops the book in her lap to bring her other hard over to dust feather light fingertips against her baby’s sides.

He’s terribly ticklish and giggles even as he shrieks “NO” loud enough that their neighbors will probably complain to her about it again. But in that moment she doesn’t care as she brings her head down to blow raspberries on her son’s stomach and make him laugh.

She loves him so much.

(But she never has any time. Her friendships are more distant now, because she’s either at work or spending time with her son. She’s always exhausted because she works such long hours and Fievel keeps her awake when she’s a home. She doesn’t blame him, he didn’t ask to be born into the world any more than she asked for him, really. But it’s hard.)

Fievel is a curious child. She takes him to children’s museums and zoos on the discount days and watches him run around with seemingly endless energy. She has to keep a careful eye on him otherwise he will disappear, get distracted and wander off no matter how many times she’s tried to tell him to never do so.

Then he turns four.

Her baby is so smart. And he’s restless. And even though the place she works has a daycare through them, the people there are one incident away from banning Fievel. She thinks that’s dumb, considering they’re the ones that didn’t watch Fievel closely enough and lost him almost four times in recent months.

So she signs him up for preschool.

She gets him a brand new outfit for the day, fussing over him until he’s all squirmy and pouty and slapping her hands away with all the grump that a four-year-old can muster.

She sends him off to daycare with ruffled hair and a wide smile and tries not to worry too much.

She’s at work when she gets a call from the school informing her that they’ve lost her son. She hurriedly lets her boss know and sweeps out of work without a backwards glance, showing up at the school just as her phone rings again and a flustered individual informs her that they’ve located him.

“I have no idea how he got out.” The frazzled teacher looks close to tears when she meets with the poor woman, giving Fievel a fierce look that promises that they will be having a talk about this.

“I din’t do anything.” Fievel pipes up mulishly, “I didn’t go nowhere, the class did.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, and faces the teacher apologetically. After a pointed comment from a friend, she’s been vaguely looking into ADHD since her kid is like this, “I’ll have a talk with him.”

“I’ll - I’ll make sure to keep a better eye on him.” The woman looks floored that she isn’t tearing strips out of the school administration for losing her toddler. Actually when it’s phrased like that she probably should be more pissed off. But she also knows her kid and what a handful her is.

So she takes him home and sits him down.

“This can’t happen again, Fi.” She tells him, and he’s got his little arms crossed and he’s pouting with his entire body. “I mean it. I had to leave work, and you know I have to work.”

“You don’t hafta.” Fievel says harshly, “What about me?”

She sits on the couch next to him, heart heavy, “Baby, you know I have to work so that we can have things and go places.”

Her son scrabbles up on his knees and puts his hand on her arms and gives her big eyes, “I don’t need lotsa toys. An’ we don’t hafta go to the zoo.”

“Oh baby,” She pulls him into her arms and lets him snuggle into her, “I gotta work. And you gotta go to school and be good. Okay? You can’t be leaving the classroom again.”

“I din’t mean to.” Fievel sniffles, and she hugs him just a little tighter as the tears start to flow.

“It’s okay.” She murmurs into his hair, “I got you.”

To his credit, Fievel does his best. He still manages to leave the classroom somehow, seemingly whenever the teacher is looking away. No one seems to know how he does it. Emma who sits next to him exclaims that he just vanished like he went BAM and wasn’t there all of a sudden!

(Oh, the imagination of four-year-olds, the teacher thinks to herself.)

But whenever he does he seems to come back within fifteen to thirty minutes. Sometimes the teacher doesn’t even notice he’s gone before he’s knocking on the (locked) classroom door to be let back in. They don’t call his mother about the incidents anymore and the teachers nickname him Houdini with a sort of despair.

Fievel is four-and-a-half when he’s taking a walk with his mother down to the park. He’s got his little rainboots on because he always wades into the pond and he likes the slosh of the water on his feet when it goes over the top, and his little duck shirt. He’s making loud quacking noises which don’t actually sound anything like a duck but when he looks at her for approval she nods with a smile.

They’re crossing the road at the crosswalk, holding hands because they always do, when the car comes careening around the corner.

She can’t react in time, eyes widening and she’s hollering and she moves to push her son and she only has eyes for him as she places her body between him and the car and -

She watches his eyes go wide and afraid and she

watches

him

disappear

and then the car clips her and she’s sent sprawling and that’s the last thing she remembers.

She wakes up in the hospital hours later with a concussion, a broken arm, several broken ribs, and a lots of scrapes. She’s lucky, they tell her. She demands to know where her son is.

Hours later, when she’s worked herself up into a right tizzy, her son sprints into the room followed shortly by some very harried looking cops and she has to haul him into the bed so that he doesn’t hurt himself getting up.

“Gentle, gentle.” She warms him, wincing when he bangs a knee into her bad ribs, “I’m a little tender at the moment, baby.”

“You got hurt!” Fievel yells at the tops of his lungs and then immediately bursts into loud and terrified tears. So she ignores her bad ribs and messed up arm and cradles him close to her making shushing noises and stroking his back until he’s cried himself out and drops off right there in the hospital bed.

She gets out of the hospital with a cast and a bill she can’t afford right now and she sits Fievel down on the couch.

She wants to write off the fact that her son literally vanished before her eyes to the concussion. But - she thinks about a locked preschool classroom and a son that has a tendency to vanish when she takes her eyes off of him and -

It makes too much sense.

“Baby.” She asks, “Can you teleport?”

“What’s tell-ee-port?” Fievel asks, scrunching up his nose.

“Do you find yourself in other places without getting up and going to them?”

“Yeah.” Fievel states it so easily, like she’s dumb. ��I told you so.”

She pressed her fingers to her face, “Can you do it now?”

Fievel frowns and then scrunches up his face real hard and then -

He’s gone. And then he’s opening his bedroom door and scurrying back out. He runs over and tugs at her pants eagerly, “I did it! Did I do good?”

She crouches down and ruffles his hair even though it kills her ribs, because she can’t pick him up with a broken arm. “Yeah baby,” She praises him, mind moving at an hour a minute, “You did good.”

That night she lays in her bed and watches Fievel’s chest rise and fall as he sleeps. He sprawls out like a starfish but sometimes in the night always buries himself into her side like a tick. She’s put a pillow in between them to try and spare her poor ribs, but she has doubts it will work.

Her son can fucking teleport.

That’s when she cries. Because she loves her son, but he’s a handful. She didn’t even notice. She didn’t notice that he son has a superpower. Doesn’t that make her the worst mother in the world?

Crying is a terrible idea. Her ribs are painful enough that she can’t sleep. She needs to ration her pain medication because they really can’t afford it.

How is she supposed to handle this? How is she supposed to raise a child that can vanish without a second thought? Her bright beautiful boy who loves feeding the ducks and being pushed on the swings and playing unfathomable games with his friend Emma that she can’t even begin to understand the plot of.

(She’s almost certain one of them is supposed to be a cheetah for some reason? Or a lion? There’s a lot of running involved in the game, and hiding.)

It’s a few months later when her arm is healed and her ribs are better and Fievel is turning five when everything comes crashing down. Because she doesn’t get a call from the school. She gets a call from the police.

Apparently Fievel managed to get out of the school far enough away that he got lost. He admits tearfully to her that he’s been getting further and further away when he ‘jumps’ - and it’s not his fault. He tries not to jump. But it happens whether he wants it to or not and if he keeps getting further and further away then -

She thinks of a car and a road and putting her body between death and her son. And she thinks about the fact that when he jumps, she isn’t there.

Look. She’s not stupid. She always knew that her kid wasn’t exactly a normal child.

(Hello. He’s practically a miracle. She wasn’t exactly a virgin but that doesn’t really matter when she was very suddenly nine months pregnant where she hadn’t been before.)

So she reckons that the powers have something to do with that. And who does she know that definitely has a child who was also one of the miracle babies?

(He’d mentioned he’d already acquired like, what, four kids when he came to see her. As though that was supposed to make her want to give up her kid even more.)

So she requests some vacation days (that she can’t afford) and she pulls Fievel out of preschool for a week (it’s preschool it’s not that important) and they fly over to a city where she can hopefully get some answers.

(Fievel spends the whole flight with his face pressed to the window and his plane toy clutched tightly in one hand and his stuffed dog in the other as he enthusiastically makes whooshing noises.)

And she goes up the the big mansion thing and knocks and goes inside where she smiles at Fievel and tells him to go play with the other children while she talks to Mr. Hargreeves, thank you baby.

As she clenches her hands into fists and listens to Sir Reginald Hargreeves condescend to her about her ability as a mother, Fievel enthusiastically bounces over to the kids his age who stare at him like they’ve never seen anything like him before in their life.

(“I’m Fievel!” He introduces himself loudly, “And this is Doggy! My mama is here to speak to your dad.”

“Uh. I’m Six.” A bewildered little girl says back.

Fievel blinks, “Oh! I just turned five.”

The girl giggles, “No! No I mean my name’s Six. but I’m five-years-old as well.”

“That’s a funny name.” Fievel says.

“Nuh uh.” The girl refutes, “Your name is weird. See, ‘cause we’re all numbers ‘n you’re not.”

And he’s introduced to them all. One is tall and awkward looks. Two hides behind the others a little bit. Three has her hands on her hips and she looks at him, but softens when he tells her that he likes her hair. Four is a skinny wisp of a kid, with big wide eyes and no sense of personal space. Five sticks pretty close to Four. And Six, of course, is the one who talked to him first which obviously means that they’re temporary best friends.

Temporary, because of course Emma is his best friend. ‘Cause she’s in his class and they sit near each other and play together with each other first.)

And his mother comes out to Fievel bossing the others around and them going with it, all with bewildered little expressions on their faces. Fievel is balancing on the back of the sofa next to a little girl who is holding Doggy, possibly in the middle of an evil villain speech? The little girl is solemnly petting Doggy like she’s a Bond villain at the very least.

It makes her smile, just a little bit.

“Fievel, baby, can you come here for a second?” She asks, and her son beams at him and vanishes from his seat over to by her leg where he pulls on her leg so that she’ll sweep him up into her arms.

(The children gape at him, all wide eyes and staring between them and their father like they’re shocked. And they probably are. Reginald has informed her that none of them can teleport, but they do have a variety of weird powers between them.)

“You know that you’re getting big.” She says, and she tries not to cry, “And you’re not going to be in preschool soon enough.”

“Yeah!” He enthuses, “Gonna learn real stuff!”

And that’s just like her son. Voraciously hungry for knowledge.

“Well, this is a school for very special people.” She tells him, and watches his eyes go big and round, “People who... can teleport, for example.”

Fievel considers that. And then twists around to look at the other children, “You can teleport?” He demands loudly, like it’s a betrayal of the highest form that they’ve been friends for an hour and this hasn’t been brought up. And maybe it is. She doesn’t claim to understand the intricacies of children’s hierarchy.

“Uh uh!” A little boy exclaims, frowning. “I can just throw stuff real good.”

“I’m strong.” Another little boy offers. And then proceeds to demonstrate this by picking up half the couch and sending the little girl careening onto the floor with a shout, but she gets up and dusts herself off easily enough.

“Okay.” Fievel says brightly, appeased by this somehow as he twists back to his mother expectantly.

“Okay.” She says, her mouth dry. “Well. This is a special school for special kids. It’s, uh. It’s a boarding school.”

“What’s that?”

“It means you stay here.” She tells him. “I’ll - I’ll come and see you when I can. And you can call me whenever you want. But you have to stay here.”

“Like a sleepover?” Fievel asks, scrunching his face up in confusion.

“A little bit.” Her smile feels weak and forced and she can’t even see it. “Like a lot of sleepovers all in a row. And when you wake up, you don’t need to go anywhere because you live at the school.”

“Uh uh. I live at home.”

“Baby...” She cards her fingers through his hair. “I know it’s scary. I don’t want you to go either - ”

“Then I don’t gotta.” Fievel says, matter of fact as he starts wiggling to get down. She hefts him up in her arms.

“Baby. Fievel. Listen to me.” She says firmly, “I can’t take care of you well enough.”

He looks at her with betrayed eyes.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t control your powers.” She tells him softly, because she loves him and she doesn’t want to give him up but - “I can’t keep you safe, baby. And the teachers can’t keep you safe. But you’ll be safe here.”

“I don’t want to.” Fievel says, loudly. In the tone which says that a tantrum is approaching.

“You’ll learn how to control your powers!” She says in a forced cheery voice.

“I’m going to school with Emma.” Fievel insists in a slightly louder voice.

“You’re already getting along great with the other kids.” She insists.

“NO.” Fievel says, at maximum volume, and then he’s gone from her arms and she’s stumbling because it’s weird to go from holding something to nothing.

“He’ll show up in a bit.” She assures Sir Hargreeves, beyond tired. He’s been watching the whole interaction and she hopes he hasn’t gotten a negative impression of her son.

If he’s able to handle six other super powered children then surely he can handle hers. No matter what he asks. No matter how difficult it was to sign over the rights to her child. He promised that she can visit Fievel on weekends whenever she wants, for however long her son wants to do so.

He’s going to keep her child safe. He won’t be running out onto streets. He’ll be able to train his powers, be able to control them, and maybe one day -

(Maybe one day she’ll get her baby back. Safe and sound in her arms and able to control his powers so she doesn’t have to worry at all.)

So she leaves, and she leaves Fievel alone. And no matter how much he screams and cries and begs, no one lets him go back to his mother. He tries to run off, tries to jump away and follow after her - but a blond woman in pristine skirts comes and retrieves him.

(He tries to jump away, but she keeps coming and finding him until he’s too tired to protest when she carries him back to his new (prison) school in her arms.)

Reginald tries to lock him in his room. He jumps out. Reginald tries to put him in time out. He jumps out. Reginald says he doesn’t get any dinner. Fievel jumps downstairs and raids the cupboards in the night.

It becomes an intense battle of wills between Sir Reginald Hargreeves and little Fievel.

Locks go on the cabinets, Fievel breaks them off by bashing them with one of the bookends he manages to snag. Reginald refuses to let Fievel play with the others. Fievel runs away again and has to be brought back by the blond lady.

(“You can call me Grace if you’re so against mom.” she had told him demurely, after he yelled himself hoarse telling her that she’s not his mother that he has a mother and that she’s so much better in every way)

Then Reginald takes Doggy away, and Fievel begrudgingly has to fall in line lest he risk his stuffed companion. One of the only links to his real life he has.

(He doesn’t even get to keep his clothes. He has to wear the stiff awful uniform that the other kids wear. It’s the absolute worst. He looks stupid but no one listens to him.)

When his mother comes to visit, Fievel is sullen and still angry with her for abandoning him. He sulks and doesn’t talk to her a lot.

He grows like this. The Umbrella Academy turns six, and then others receive names after Fievel loudly points out that having numbers for names is weird and that no one should ever trust a man who names his kids numbers it’s lazy and stupid.

So One becomes Luther and Two becomes Diego and Three becomes Allison and Four becomes Klaus and Five becomes Ben and Six becomes Vanya.

And Fievel becomes Five.

They all think it’s really funny, that they all get names instead of numbers and Five gets a number instead of a name.

He’s six and Reginald sits him down and tells him in no uncertain terns that his mother essentially sold him. That Reginald controls him. And if Five isn’t a good boy then... well. Bad boys don’t get to visit their mothers.

(Reginald finds a far more... effective way of controlling Five than a stuffed animal.)

(Good boys also don’t talk to their mothers about their training. They smile and act happy and lie because they want to keep seeing her. They don’t tell her about how scary it is, how they desperately want to come home, how maybe their mother could take all the kids because they don’t even have mothers and it isn’t fair.)

So Five grows bigger, gets new uniform, clashes with Reginald as much as he dares, and settles in to life at the academy. He sprawls across Vanya’s floor and tries to remember all the story books he read with his mother.

(There’s only grown up books in the manor that they’re expected to read. And Five likes them, he loves to learn, but - he misses storytime. He misses the wonderful books about adventure and other worlds. He misses when he felt like he was going to go on an adventure because he had powers and was special!

He doesn’t wish he’s special anymore.)

Vanya asks him once why he hangs out with her, because she’s normal. Because she doesn’t have powers.

And Five looks at her and tells her that that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. He spend years surrounded by people without powers. He tells her about his best friend Emma, who definitely didn’t have powers.

“I wish I had a best friend.” Vanya tells him, face sad and drawn and Five pulls her into the fiercest hug he can.

“You’re not my best friend,” He tells her, and she looks even sadder until he finishes it up with, “You’re my sister.”

“But you have a mother.” She says, sounding confused.

Five shrugs, “Doesn’t matter. Reginald is legally my dad, and he’s legally your dad, and so we share a dad. That makes us siblings.”

“Is a sibling better than a best friend?” Vanya asks after a long moment of silence.

Five doesn’t think so. He misses Emma. He misses his preschool. He misses his life, the life before the Academy. But Vanya looks so sad and pale that he hugs her again and says “Yeah, of course. We’re family.”

The others tolerate him in varied amounts. Luther thinks he’s dumb because he’s always mean to Reginald. Five thinks Luther is dumb, and he’s definitely right. Allison constantly bugs him for information about what she terms “the outside world” and Five has told her about birthday parties at least a dozen times and she still looks wistful and asks him to tell her about them again.

(They turn eight and Five produces a paper crown for his sister because she looked so wistful when he described Emma’s birthday tiara. Allison wears it until Reginald snaps at her to get rid of it, but Five sees her tuck it in the waistband of her skirt rather than throw it away.)

When Reginald snaps at Diego for his stutter, Five snarls and snaps back, getting between the man and his new brother and yelling because he knows that’s not how you help kids! Yelling doesn’t help! His teacher said so! And his mama!

Diego is never particularly thankful for his interference, but Five doesn’t care.

Five is nine and he jumps into the mausoleum with Klaus and holds his most fragile brother and snarls, threatens to run away. To take Klaus and just go, that they’d go to Five’s mother and she would take them away from Reginald and this place and -

Klaus always buries himself into Five’s side with his hands over his ears until the morning when Five either jumps away or glares with furious eyes at Reginald even when he’s punished after.

He’s nine when he gets into a screaming match with Diego who says that Five isn’t one of them that he has his mother and if he had the chance he would abandon them in a heartbeat.

Reginald threatens to cut off his mother’s visits if he finds Five interfering with “Number Four’s training” one more time.

Five looks at Klaus, who is his brother. Who is frail and skinny and pale with dark bags underneath his eyes.

Reginald looks satisfied because Five has always backed down before when his mother is threatened. It’s his ultimate trump card.

Five is so very very tired of his mother being used against him. And he loves Klaus. And these kids, they are his siblings. (He tries not to think about the fact that next year he’ll have officially been here just as long as he was with his mother. He hates it.)

Reginald finds Five in the mausoleum with cobwebs in his hair and his brother against his side and a glare on his face and Reginald forbids his next visit with his mother.

Five keeps jumping into the mausoleum. Klaus looks at him with wonder in his eyes and Five pries up the floorboard that hides Doggy (because even after Reginald found a better way to threaten him, he remembers) and cries himself to sleep.

“You chose us.” Ben states instead of asks, very quietly, when they’re studying together.

“My mother can look after herself.” Five says stiffly, not taking his eyes off the page. “Klaus can’t.”

Ben doesn’t say anything more, but Five feels eyes on his back for a good long while after that.

When Five is ten, they debut for the first time. They go to the bank, and stop the robbers.

(“We can’t send Ben in,” Five insists, “They’ll die!”

“They’re robbers.” Luther scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re still people.” Five insists. “You definitely aren’t supposed to kill people. It’s a law.”

“Shut up, Five.” Diego says grouchily, “We just need to get this over with.”

“Dad’ll be pissed off if we let any of them escape.” Allison says, and the whole group goes quiet as they consider their father’s disappointed fury.

“I’ll go.” Ben mutters reluctantly, and Five tries to meet his eyes but the other boy slips into the vault before he can. The group stands silently as they listen to the screams and watch the blood splatter.

“This is wrong.” Five whispers.

“This is how it is.” Klaus whispers back, sounding defeated.

They don’t talk about it, after.)

Five smiles for the camera and lets Klaus lean on his shoulder and steals a thing of tissues from a reporter’s purse and uses them to wipe more of the blood from Ben’s face with a tight smile and the world goes on.

(He doesn’t know his mother watched. Doesn’t know the fury she flew into. Her son was supposed to be safe - he was supposed to be at a school. Why the fuck was he stopping a bank robbery like some kind of little child soldier?

She becomes a problem. And Reginald can be awfully practical about problems.)

Five is ten-and-a-half and he hasn’t seen his mother in a year and a half. And he’s tired and he’s rebellious so one day he sneaks out and finds a pay phone and the only reason he remembers his number is because his mother made him memorize it and quizzed him frequently.

(He’d gotten lost so often from wandering away and accidentally jumping. His rules were to approach either women with children or people who worked wherever and ask them to call her.)

Except the call can’t connect. Disconnected number.

Five frowns, and end up doing some research which involves massive lies to the library, and then he has a picture of a newspaper obituary in his hands and a hole in his heart.

Car accident, the paper says.

Five crumbles it up, and then smoothes it out again because there’s a picture of his mother next to the article and Five doesn’t have any pictures of his mother. So he hides it under the floorboards next to Doggy and cries himself to sleep and then he gets up and does his training and doesn’t talk about it.

He doesn’t tell his siblings. Not even when Luther blows up and calls him a stuck up brat who can go cry to his mommy if he think it’s so bad here. Not even when Klaus jokes about running away with a cracking voice in the mausoleum, not really jokes at all. Not even when Vanya asked him for another of his mother’s stories and he started crying in the middle of them. He’d just told her it had been a hard day of training.

(Vanya never asks him questions if he mentions training. He feels bad about lying to her and using it as an excuse but...)

He waits for Reginald to tell him. He waits, because surely someone would tell him that his mother is dead. He’s her son.

Reginald never tells him. He tells Five that he’s bad and still hasn’t earned back his visiting privileges. Five hates him so much. So so much.

Five is twelve-years-old and he is sprawled across Vanya’s bed after a particularly brutal day of training. Reginald has been trying to overtrain Five the day before he puts Klaus in the mausoleum overnight so that Five will be too tired to jump in. It doesn’t work, but it’s an exhausting enough punishment.

“I wish I didn’t have powers.” He tells Vanya.

“No you don’t.” Vanya says back fiercely, fists clenching in her blankets, “Not having powers sucks.”

Five tilts his head and looks at her, “No.” He says gently, “No one knew I had powers. And I was loved. I was so loved, Vanya.”

“Stop it.” Vanya says, face tight. “If you were so loved, why did she leave you here?”

And Five opens his mouth and nothing comes out, because it hurts.

“You don’t wish you had powers, Vanya.” Five tells her finally, and there are tears in his eyes but he’s looking at the ceiling not at her so it doesn’t matter. “You wish you had a family. A proper family. Not this - this stupid academy. I hate it. I hate it here.”

“Don’t call it stupid.” Vanya says, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you have a family and we just - we just have the academy, okay? So don’t call it stupid.”

“We deserve better. We deserve a childhood.”

“We have a childhood.” Vanya scowls, “Just because it’s not as nice as yours was or whatever - ”

“This is my childhood, Vanya.” Five snarls, propping himself up to face her, “I know you all think I’m so spoiled and - and I’m not one of you or whatever, but I came here when I was five. My memories of before - Vanya they’re fading. I couldn’t pick Emma out of a crowd if I tried. I’ve been here for years longer than I was ever there, and it’s not fair.”

“You still have a mother - ”

“No I don’t.” Five cuts her off, his voice ice. Vanya’s eyes are wide, startled by his tone. “Vanya, look around you. When was the last time I saw my mother?”

Vanya’s lip wobbles as she realized she can’t remember.

“It’s been three years.” Five tells her, eyes hard and cold and angry, “She’s gone. I made a choice, and I chose you. I chose the academy. Because despite everything, I love you guys. You’re my siblings, even if sometimes you don’t act like it.”

“Five - ” Vanya tries.

“No.” Five cuts her off, hopping off the bed and shaking his head, “I’m going to - I’m going to go to my room. You get some more practice in or something. I think Pogo picked out this piece and you know what he’s like.”

He doesn’t let her get a word in before he jumps up to his room.

Five is twelve when he stands in front of Reginald and says “I’m not using my powers anymore.”

“You have an assignment.” Reginald says severely.

“No.” Five refuses politely, and his family watches with wide eyes from the sidelines. The only family he has left. “I’ve got control now. I’ve decided I’m going to be normal now.”

Reginald locks Klaus is the mausoleum early and watches with unimpressed eyes as Five picks the lock and strolls in.

Reginald handcuffs Five to a rail. Five plucks a paperclip from his sock and picks those as well.

Reginald locks Five in a room from the outside and tells him that he’ll get dinner when he jumps out.

Five opens the window and shimmies down the drainpipe and has to be picked up at Griddy’s where he’s charmed the owner out of a free doughnut and hot chocolate with a sob story about school bullies to explain his grubby appearance (the shimmy down the drainpipe hadn’t exactly been graceful. or clean.)

He locks Five in the basement in a weird room that’s soundproofed. Five tries to hunger strike but - it’s so quiet. He can hear the sound of his own heartbeat. He can’t stand it. It’s like the room was made specifically to torture him.

(He looks at the little bed in the room. The sheets were dusty. This room has been around for a very long time. He wonders who it’s for, Allison, perhaps? She’s always been fairly obedient, maybe this is the reason why.)

He jumps out on the second day, and doesn’t talk to anybody. Reginald is smug like the cat the got the canary, and Five hates it.

Then Five is messing around, and something slots into place, and he realizes - oh, he might be able to time travel.

Once he figures it out, he’s desperate. He’ll save his siblings that way. He’ll take the to a time where Reginald can’t get them. They’ll be out of reach.

(maybe - maybe they can travel back in time. maybe he can save his mother -)

Five is thirteen-years-old when he time travels for the first time. When he runs out of the house like he’s done so very many times before, except he’s angry and frustrated and he’d tried to bait Reginald into telling him his mother’s dead again and he hadn’t and -

Five jumps. It’s snowing. He did it. He jumps again, laughing. He jumps again -

Ash.

He tries to jump, but his power fizzles out. He calls for his siblings. No one answers. He finds the academy - rubble.

So Five lives in the apocalypse. He tries to go home, he does. He buries his siblings as well as he can. He wanders around gathering food and textbooks. He picks up a mannequin and names it Dolores.

(He searches the rubble of the academy, but he can’t find Doggy or the picture of his mother. Either they were found and removed years ago, or they’re buried beneath too much rubble. Five doesn’t know.)

He takes Dolores on a road trip. He tells her it’s to see if they can find any people, any survivors.

he arrives in a graveyard and traces his mother’s name with trembling fingers. this is the first time he’s been to visit her grave. this is the first time he’s seen her in four years.

So he survives. He grows up, desperately clinging to life by his fingernails. He does complex calculations, wondering what his mother would think of him now.

He meets the Handler. He becomes an assassin.

(he’s glad his mother is dead, so that she will never see what he has become.)

And then one day, he gets home. He falls into the courtyard, and looks at the faces of his grown up siblings and -

(he’s so tired of losing people. he’s so tired of being taken away from his family.)

He hops to Griddy’s, he gets into a fight with assassins, he cuts a tracker from his arm, and he goes to Vanya’s apartment.

And he’s Five, but he’s also Fievel. And somewhere inside he’s still that same kid who loved his mother and wanted her to fix thing, who trusted her even though she didn’t have powers. His mother wasn’t ordinary, and he’s never seen Vanya as such.

So he asks her for her help.

(Later, she tells him that they hunted down his mother when they were fifteen, because they’d been absolutely convinced he’d just run away and gone back to herno matter how much Reginald insisted he was dead.

That’s when they found out about her death. Her date of death.

“I’m so sorry, Five.” Vanya says, tears in her eyes as the whole family shuffles and looks away.

And Five puts his hand on Vanya’s. “I knew, Van.”

Her head snaps up. Klaus blurts out a what in the background.

Five shrugs, “I’ve known since we were ten. It’s okay.”)

Five sends Vanya to investigate the eye.

(He asks Klaus - “Have you - ”

“No.” Klaus says instantly, shaking his head. He knows what Five is asking.

Five considers that answer, then shrugs. He’s not sure if it would be better or worse for his mother to be one of the ghosts that tormented Klaus. “After I - after, did dad get worse?”

“Yeah.” Klaus says simply, because it’s true.

Five hadn’t been there to jump into the mausoleum and try and shield his brother from invisible enemies.

“I’m sorry.” Five says quietly.

“Me too.”)

Vanya comes back and the eye hasn’t been made yet. Five swears, loudly and at length.

And maybe in another world Five snaps at Klaus and denies Vanya and goes off on his own and ignores Allison but -

In this one, Five was the only kid who not only didn’t care that Vanya was ‘ordinary’ but actively challenged her on it. Who told her in no uncertain terms that he was jealous of her.

(It’s a very different book that comes out.)

In this world, Five shielded Klaus and challenged Reginald. He jumped into the mausoleum and hugged his brother and, most importantly, he chose Klaus over his mother. And Klaus knows that. Klaus has... a lot of loyalty to Five, and even though he’d though for a long time that Five abandoned him... he knows better now and he feels - he feels guilty for doubting his brother. That guilt may or may not manifest in being a bit clingy.

In this world, Allison thought Five was fascinating because he’d been in the real world. He’d been to real school. She remembers him telling her about his mother, about trips to the zoo and the museums and the birthday parties, about sleepovers and playdates and parks.

(She has a daughter, and she takes Claire to the children’s museums and to zoos. She tries her best for her daughter and hears Five’s voice telling stories in her ears. She does her best to be a good mother, she tries so hard.)

It’s a slightly more united family that stands against the apocalypse.

But there’s always something with them, isn’t there?

“Don’t you know?” The Handler says, with her perfect lipstick smile, “I don’t have to win, I just have to take you out of the game. Your weak spot has always been the same, hasn’t it?”

“You don’t have shit.” Five says, unimpressed. “My family is fine.”

“Are you so sure about that, Fievel?”

(Five already chose his siblings over his mother the first time. The choice is... much more difficult the second time.)

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thinkingimmensely · 3 years

Text

Like An Open Book XI

Part 1 | Part 10

A/N: Hi! How’s everyone been doing? I think this chapter’s kind of long, not sure if it’s longer than the last one though. Also, I’ve been working on a James Potter x Reader oneshot that’s already over 4k words HAHAHA, I’m nearly done with it (I think), so that’s one thing to look forward to~! uwu

IDK if it’s just me or is tumblr messing up the tags thingy? Because I can’t seem to tag some people. But anyway, if I’m missing anyone or if you want to be added to the taglist, please dm me or comment down below or even send me an ask so I can include you! <3

MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the Potterverse!

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He couldn’t meet your eyes. James Potter had been avoiding you and you were devastated. You were proud of yourself at how well you hid your inner turmoil since no one said anything, until Remus and you were sitting alone outside in the lawn that is.

You sat beneath a tree, shielding yourself from the afternoon sun. The others were busy in a competition on who could throw the gnomes the farthest. Though however tempting it was to join in, you settled for relaxing since you didn’t want to soil James’ good mood. Remus, wanting to get some reading done, opted to join you.

“I’m going home tomorrow.” You told him.

Remus looked at you in surprise, as if you just dropped a bomb. “What?” He closed his book and set it aside, “Why? We’re supposed to spend two weeks here. We have a week left.”

You pulled your legs up to your chest and hugged yourself, “I just... I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” You shrugged; you tried to act nonchalant about it but you knew he could very well see your anxiety behind your orbs.

Remus furrowed his brows, “Why would you ever think that? Y/N, everyone wants you to be here.”

You shook your head, “I don’t think James does.” You mumbled, you didn’t want to but tears still prickled at the edges of your orbs. Remus heard you all the same. “He knows, Rem. He knows and now he can’t even look at me.” Going home to the family who all but ignored you was better than being rejected by the person who used to welcome you with open arms. “It’s been two days and he all but flees whenever I enter the same room as him. He can’t stand it, and I won’t force him to.”

“I’ll go talk to him.” Remus was about to stand up but you grabbed his arm and held him down.

“It’s okay.” You told him, giving off a sad smile. Remus looked conflicted but settled down nonetheless. He held your hand fondly and gave it a squeeze in reassurance, which you were grateful for. He let out a deep sigh and opened his book again.

You set down your quill as you folded the piece of parchment and packed it inside an envelope. You sealed it with melted wax and a stamp and handed it to the white barn-owl that perched itself on your windowsill. It was a reply to the Dumbledore’s letter to you; you had written to him immediately after returning to the Potter’s residence two days ago, your hands clammy with nerves, and your ears ringing from everything. You opened his reply once again.

Dear Miss Y/L/N,

It is a surprise to hear of your connection to the recent incident, and I must commend how you and the others fought off the Death Eaters and helped the Aurors, though extremely reckless it was. I believe Voldemort already knows of your identity and would be ever pursuant of his current interest in you. He will try to get you to join him again, and you must stay vigilant. He will not do anything as long as you remain a student of Hogwarts, but I believe it best to relocate your family soon, in case he catches winds about your residence. If you decide to do so, I will, of course, send help.

Take care,

Albus Dumbledore

You rubbed your forehead as you read the letter again, chastising yourself for being so stupid. Dumbledore was right, Voldemort had enough connections to easily know who you were, and you not only put yourself in danger, but now so is your family. They had to move, and you had to leave them to keep them safe. He won’t be able to do anything as long as you still went to Hogwarts, the notion was comforting yet ominous, because what would happen the moment you graduated?

The ministry was abuzz since ten muggles were murdered that night, and more people severely injured. The Muggle Prime Minister struggled to make believable alibis and he couldn’t give out an adequate one was it not for the help of the Minister of Magic. You tapped your fingers on the mahogany desk. You wondered if Severus was able to escape unscathed, but you shook your head at the thought; of course, he would go unscathed, he knew about the attack beforehand after all. You bit your lower lip; he had tried to protect you- you know that now. You may still be able to sway him away from the dark path he seemed all too eager to walk on.

You packed what little you had and zipped your bag close. Now all that was left was to tell the others during dinner. You decided that saying that your mum wanted you home immediately because she heard what had happened at the concert and was concerned for your safety was a good enough excuse.

A knock came from your door and before you could even walk towards it, it creaked open and James came in. He glanced at your packed bag on the bed and turned to look at you, his eyes wide in shock. He took two long strides towards you and pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry.” His voice shook as he buried his face on the crook of your neck. His breath tickled but you were utterly confused to be focused on that right now.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated. “I’ve been so stupid, and you didn’t deserve the way I avoided you. I don’t want you to leave, if I had my way, I’d want you to never leave.” He pulled away but still held you by the shoulders. His hazel eyes searched yours for something you didn’t know. “You see- what I’m trying to say is... is that I don’t care if you’re a Legilimens. I don’t care if you know every little thing about me, if you can read my mind this very instant, I don’t care. I will never turn my back on you again, never. I hold you too dearly.” You just noticed how his hands were shaking, you took them from your shoulders and held them.

“James, I-” You were about to say but someone cleared their throat by the doorway which made you all but drop his hands and your gaze immediately.

“Uh- s-sorry to bother, b-but your mum wants to know what you want to have for di-dinner, Prongs.” Peter stammered. Sirius snickered from behind him while Remus tried to hold in his laughter as well.

You flushed a deep shade of red as you turned away from them, hands on your warming cheeks. “Out! All of you!” James had snapped, and the boys went running away in snickers. You turned back to him and found him pretty much in the same state as you were in, flushed cheeks and all that.

He cleared his throat, “So um, please don’t go home... yet...” He added the last word like an afterthought, as if realizing that, yes, you still have a family who might be wondering where you were if you wouldn’t return. You nodded and he grinned at you. “I’ll, um... see you at dinner then?”

“Uh-huh.” You sheepishly replied and he bit his lower lip then turned to go out, leaving the door open.

“So Y/N, will you tell me what every girl at Hogwarts thinks about me next time?” Sirius grinned as all of you laid on top of the roof, watching the stars. It was a clear night, perfect for star gazing, and you took the opportunity to do so.

You let out a dry laugh, “Of course not, Siri. What fun would that be for your conquests?” Sirius and Peter had learned of your ‘gift’ when they were busy eavesdropping earlier, and like Remus had done so long ago, the rest of the Marauders had sworn themselves to secrecy regarding your ability.

Sirius chuckled, twirling his wand between his fingers, “Point taken.”

You stared at the twinkling stars that shone millions of miles away and listened to the voices of your friends. You wished time would stop in this moment. You wished all of you would stay like this forever... young and free; unbothered by the looming war that plagued your lives.

You sat up as reality started sinking in. The screams of people dying too haunting to be forgotten, and the pale face of the Auror who only tried to protect you. You never even knew his name. You felt a warm jacket wrap around you, and you turned to see James beside you, a soft smile on his face.

“Thank you.” You murmured. The others continued on their conversation while James adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“I remember it too.” He told you as he ruffled his hair. You cast him a questioning gaze, prompting him to elaborate; “The concert, I mean. Sometimes I still hear the screams and see the flashes of green when I close my eyes.”

You held his hand and gave it a small squeeze which made him smile. “I reckon the five of us will carry this memory for the rest of our lives.” You pointed out sadly.

He nodded, “True. But I feel a little better knowing that you guys will be with me through it.” He told you and you could feel your heart move by the sincerity of his words that tears prickled at the corner of your eyes.

You wouldn’t be dealing with all these emotions alone, not anymore, and that very notion comforted you greatly. You scooted closer to James and leaned your head on his shoulder, and he instantly wrapped an arm around you. You sighed in content, because at this very moment, all was well. “That reminds me,” You started, “You never told me why you were avoiding me so adamantly.” You turned to look up at him, backtracking when he was already looking at you, your faces inches away from each other. You recoiled and he dropped his hand from your shoulder, a deep red penetrating his features.

He cleared his throat, “I’ll tell you someday. Promise you won’t search for the answer yourself?” Tapping his head with his index finger.

You laughed, “I’ll try.”

The rest of the summer had passed by rather uneventfully as you returned home a couple days later. You had set up some enchantments on your home the moment you arrived with the help of Professor Flitwick, who arrived a few moments after you. He thought you the charms and reinforced them for better durability.

Your mother had invited him for tea, but he politely refused, saying that he must visit other households and left in a hurry. Your family, except your youngest sister, looked at him rather curiously and you were glad they didn’t voice out their apparent discomfort. They had also watched you and your professor in awe from the living room window as you casted the spells.

Now you sat on a chair by the dinner table as your mother rubbed her temples and your step-father tried to take in everything you just said; you had explained to them why there was a need to enchant your home.

“So... you’re saying that... that a lunatic is out there causing havoc?” You step-father asked hesitantly.

“Well he’s not just any lunatic, he’s public enemy number one in our world.” You pointed out. “And he’s not just causing any havoc, he’s killing people. Muggles, non-wizard people.” You elaborated once more, “You guys are the very kind of people he’ll be after, and I’m only telling you all these because I want you guys to be safe.” The tea had long gone cold and a tense silence hung in the air. Your two siblings were sent to bed early for you guys to have this conversation, but you weren’t surprised to hear your stepsister eavesdropping at the top of the stairs.

"Y/N, are you sure we’re safe here?” Your mother questioned, gathering her thoughts together. She, at least, understood the gravity of the situation. You knew she liked to read the Daily Prophet when you were done with it, and you were aware she didn’t skip the latest news about the Dark Wizard.

You frowned, letting out a deep sigh, “He wants me to join his cause.” You admitted, and the color of your mother’s face drained. You took her outstretched hand and gave it a squeeze, a gesture that brought tears to her eyes, it had been years since you initiated any sort of physical contact with her. “I won’t join him; I assure you that.” You swore. “Dumbledore is certain he won’t come looking for me until I graduate. By then I’ll be out of this house and the lot of you will be moving somewhere far from here.”

Realization dawned on their faces, “You’re leaving? Why? Wouldn’t it be safer if you went with us?”

You shook your head, choosing not to answer.

I have gathered a group of people who are willing to oppose the Dark Lord himself and thwart his plans, Miss Y/L/N, and I am formally extending an invitation for you to be part of that said group. It will be dangerous and it will require courage, you will not only be part of the heart of the war, your life will be on the line and your skills will no doubt be put to the test time and time again. But this will all be for the greater good, so I prompt you to at least consider it.

“Y/N?”

Your thoughts broken, you looked at the both of them who shared a look of concern at your lack of reply. “It’ll be better this way. This will all be for the greater good.”

You left the dinner table at that, and sought solace in your bedroom, glad that your step-sister had retreated to her own room just as you finished your conversation. You locked your door and got your potions textbook and cauldron out of your trunk. You searched the table of contents and smirked bitterly as you found the page you were looking for:

Chapter 16: Memory Potion . . . . . . . . . . . . 394

“Y/N!” Lily yelled as she run to you and wrapped her arms around you, “I missed you!” The two of you reunited at King’s Cross Station, the Hogwarts Express right in front of you, smoke bellowing, getting ready for the journey to Hogwarts. Chatter rang out the entire station as friends reunited after without seeing each other for the entire summer.

You chortled and returned the hug, “It’s so good to see you again Lily.”

“What, no hug for me?”

The two of you broke the hug to look at the messy-haired boy smirk at the both of you. Lily rolled her emerald orbs heavenward, “Sod off, Potter.”

James chuckled at her, “Feisty as ever I see.” He then turned to you and smiled, “Y/N.”

You nodded at him, “James.” It has been three weeks since you last saw him and it feels like it’s been forever.

Lily eyed the both of you, her eyes wide as if formulating something. She instantly grabbed you and pulled you away as Sirius called out to the three of you, much to the confusion of the boys. “Did something happen between the both of you?” She interrogated.

You furrowed your brows, “What?”

She giggled excitedly, “You and James I mean!” She whispered-yelled. “Is there something going on that I should know about?!”

“Um, I don’t think so?” You denied, because really, there wasn’t, wasn’t there?

She pulled you further away, “I saw the way you two looked at each other! If there’s something going on between the both of you, I’m all in for it!”

“Lily didn’t you call him an arrogant toerag before?” You raised a brow at her.

“Oh please, that was before we all got to become friends!” She turned to look at the boys, Remus and Peter had already arrived and the four of them were talking animatedly with each other as if they haven’t seen each other for years. “I’m just saying, I think the both of you make a fine pair now that I see you guys again. It’s like a spell had been cast during summer break that changed everyone’s demeanor.”

Ah that was right, Lily didn’t know what happened yet. You had avoided writing to her about what happened since you didn’t want to worry her, and also you didn’t want to relive the memories. Your expression may have changed since Lily went from excited to concerned in an instant, “What is it? What’s wrong?” She questioned.

“I need to tell you something...” You trailed off but before you could go into your story-telling, the train chimed out. It was time to go.

The boys headed your way, “Ladies,” James uttered and grabbed your trunk from your hands. You tried to get it back from him but it was futile, which only made Lily cast you another knowing smirk. You frowned at her in reply.

“We have to go to the Prefects compartment.” Lily informed you as she and Remus stopped midway.

“Oh, right. Sure.” You nodded, “I’ll talk to you later then?”

The redhead smiled at you, “Of course.” They then walked off towards the other end of the train while you, Peter, Sirius, and James easily found an empty compartment and went inside. You stood by the doorway while the boys placed the trunks up, and entered when they were done.

James took his seat beside you while Sirius and Peter sat on the opposite side. The train took off a few minutes later, and you leaned your head on the window glass, looking at the vast terrain. The boys chatted on, paying no heed to your lack of input to their conversation.

The cart lady soon did her rounds around the train, and James and Peter got up to buy some sweets. Sirius nudged you with his foot and you shot him a look, “What?”

He chuckled, “Nothing. It’s just- you're real quiet today. Is everything all right?”

“Of course. I... I just have a lot on my mind right now.” You confessed.

Sirius gave you a sad smile. “Well, don’t get consumed by those thoughts. We’re here for you aright?” He pulled the sleeves of his sweater.

“Sirius?”

“Hm?”

You folded your hands together in your laps, glancing outside where the others were still busy picking the sweets they want. “We both know you’re more troubled than I am. Do you want to talk about it?”

Sirius stopped pulling his sleeves instantly, “I almost forgot you’re a Legilimens.” He chortled lowly, but it held no actual mirth. “I was disowned, kicked out of the house- with all that burning of my picture in the family tree.” He shook his head as if he found it absolutely ridiculous, “I think Bella told them about our little encounter during the concert incident and that flipped them how I could stand against the Dark Lord himself and their cause. So now I live with James apparently. It’s fine though, if anything, I’m glad to be rid of all that pureblood supremacy nonsense.”

You frowned deeply; his pureblood fanatic family was not foreign to you. You knew, since before, that Sirius suffered immensely in his household, and it made your family life all the much better. “You’re worried about your brother?” You surmised.

He nodded slowly, “They’re poisoning his mind, they are. He’s my little brother and I couldn’t even protect him. I can’t stop him from walking down that path...”

Your heart ached from the familiarity, you leaned back on your seat, “Well... all we can do is not give up now.” You told him, and he understood. He understood that the both of you were in a similar boat, and that made him smile genuinely and nod. You were thankful about the fact that he didn’t even comment about how he knew you were talking about Severus. You knew they weren’t on the best terms but you were worried he might convince you to forget about that snake. That he wasn’t worth it.

James and Peter came back with their hands full with sweet treats and they set it down on the cushions. “Take anything you want.” James told you and you looked through the candies and chocolates. You took a cauldron cake, thanking him.

Halfway before arriving to Hogwarts, you all started to change into your robes. You had to leave the compartment to change at the comfort room all the way down the train hallway while the boys had no trouble pulling their sweaters over their heads.

“Wouldn’t mind if you changed here, Y/N.” Sirius wiggled his brows at you but yelped when James threw his robes at him.

“Hi, Y/N.” A girl with ginger hair and warm brown eyes greeted you as you waited in line for your turn to change in the bathroom. “I’m Marlene McKinnon; we share the same dorm?” She introduced herself when you just stared at her.

You shook your head, “Oh sorry, I know who you are, I’m just a little surprised is all. We’ve never really talked before.” She was nervous, she didn’t think she would ever get to talk to you as well.

She chuckled lightly, “We haven’t, haven’t we? I’m sorry about that; but I hope to rectify that, Lily’s friend is our friend of course.” She gestured to the person inside the room who just came out.

“Oh, hi Y/N.” Mary Macdonald greeted, already in her robes, a kind smile on her face.

“You can change first Y/N.” Marlene told you; you thanked her, not wanting to make it awkward.

You closed the door behind you and discarded your sweater. You could faintly hear Marlene and Mary chatting in the other side of the door, it was a good thing they weren’t talking about you. Was it going to be like this from now on? You wondered. Were your housemates going to make pleasant conversation with you just because you were friends with Lily and the Marauders? Somehow the thought of not being ostracized by your own house anymore wasn’t so bad.

You came out after changing and Marlene went in afterwards. You smiled at Mary, in which she returned the gesture and you made your way back to your compartment. You passed by a group of snickering students, and when you turned to glance, you frowned deeply as you took note of their green robes. It was Mulciber and his little gang; their compartment door was slightly open and they passed around the daily prophet. You squinted in disgust and continued on, missing the way Severus looked as you walked away from inside the compartment.

You dragged the door open and found your three friends tossing Fizzing Whizbees at each other and catching it with their mouths. “Does anyone have a copy of today’s Daily Prophet?” You questioned, interrupting their game as you took your seat beside James.

“I might have one.” Peter replied, swallowing the candy, and got up the seats to reach for his trunk.

“Did something happen?” James looked at you in question.

“I don’t know yet.” You answered. Peter fished out the newspaper from his trunk and threw it to you, which you expertly caught. You immediately skimmed through the headlines while the blonde boy closed his trunk and flopped down on his seat.

Sirius and James huddled closer towards you to check the newspaper, and you arrived at the latest news about the Dark Lord. It said that there were three more attacks, all in different locations throughout the country. Your face paled at the list of casualties, the war wasn’t just starting, it was at its height already, you realized.

The atmosphere in the compartment turned grim. Sirius took the newspaper from your hands and crumpled it up and threw it outside the window. “It’s nothing new. People die every day.” He shrugged then took a packet of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and ripped it open. “Here, Peter, I dare you to eat this.” He handed the boy an earth-colored bean.

You sighed, all of you coped in a different way, you concluded. Though not particularly healthy, denial was one way to go about it. But you weren’t one to talk since the way you stressed about it all the time couldn’t be considered healthy as well.

You felt eyes on you and you turned to see James looking at you. You cocked your head to your side in question and there was a waver in his gaze. He felt hurt; he wanted to know what you were thinking about and it pained him to see you build walls around yourself once more. You turned away from him, guilt creeping onto your conscience.

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rayofsunas · 4 years

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haikyuu!! as dads (pt.2)

A/n: hello! this is the part two to the haikyuu!! as dads “series”. if I combined them they’d be very long.

Summary: haikyuu characters as dads/domestic living.

Pairings: Yuji Terushima, Akaashi Keiji, Yu Nishinoya, Tsutomu Goshiki

Warnings: some timeskip spoilers, fluff, parenting, angst (kinda, not really), swearing (maybe), crack, all characters are aged up

Word count: 2.2k

Part One!

Yuji Terushima

- childish man sigh

- he has a daughter and son, who he’s just as childish as, and it really shows

- boy has so much energy

- he’s ALWAYS chasing his son and daughter around

- he offers to take his kids to the playground, he says he’s doing it to give you a break, but really he has just as much fun playing on the playground as his son

- when he picks his sons up after daycare expect them to race to where you’re waiting by the sidewalk

- he will not let them beat him, he doesn’t realize it, but he gets caught up in having fun and will legit run off sprinting to you, leaving his kids in the dust

- has to repeatedly apologize and promise he won’t do it again, but it still happens everyday

- he’s an apprentice hair stylist so boy knows how to do hair

- you can find him playing with both of his kids hair if they let him

- it definitely puts them to sleep at night, so he does it often

- watches cartoons/movies with them because he also enjoys it

- his sons tries to say doing hair is for girls, and teases terushima about it

- BUT on the low everyone in the family knows he’s just joking and he secretly loves it

- would rather do something involving movement, boy can’t sit still for shit, so often he’s out and about with his kids

-adores his children so much

- he thinks they're so fun

- would rather hang out with them over adults

- “adults are boring” “I agree daddy”

- his children cling to him, and because he’s so close to them, they come to him to talk about anything

- wherever terushima is, his children were sure to follow when they were little

- despite being childish, after taking his now teen daughter to a soccer game, he managed to become famous amongst the mothers who called him “a hot dad with a tongue piercing”

- “I’m telling mom” his teen son said one day while his daughter was on the field still

- “what?” terushima lowkey was confused, doesn’t see the harm in the comments, as long as they don’t over step right?

- “why do you entertain them?”

- “it’s funny” he shrugged.

- “still telling mom.”

- because he’s childish, and his children come to him for everything, he has dirt on his kids that you don't know

- “if that's the case. i’m telling her what you did.” he smirks

- “what did I do?”

- "your boyfriend, last week, behind the bleachers...”

- “oh...”

- “yeah, oh.”

- “you know she supports your relationship, but she’s also protective, and she’ll wanna give you guys the talk.”

- “i’ll still tell her... she’ll beat your ass, childish old man.”

- his daughter still tells him things, but after her brother told her what happened during her game, she will keep certain things from him

- although terushima joked about telling you what went on between your son and his boyfriend, it accidentally slipped out at dinner

- “dad you promised!” “SORRY!”

- he was just having a nice convo with his family and then it slipped out, he doesn’t regret it lol, he thinks it's not a big deal, but when you began having the talk OVER dinner he regretted it oop

- your son claimed it wasn't an accident and therefore tells that he’s been allowing the mothers to flirt with him, but you're more focused on giving your son the talk

- “you know you always have to use protection. I know it may seem different, cause he’s a boy, but if you're doing an-”

- “BABE, SHHHH, I’M TRYING TO EAT!”

- “YOU SHOUDL’VE KEPT QUIET.”

- your daughter is so traumatized...

Akaashi Keiji

- when his daughter was born, he was lowkey stressed

- he wants everything to go smoothly and perfect, and it did, but he was stressed

- akaashi still to this day cannot say no to her

- he gives her that smile, and it just lowkey melts his heart, he doesn't show it though

- you would often come home to see them laying on the couch together, him reading a children's book to her, her pointing at the little pictures

- she’s wrapped around his finger and vice versa

- is in her life a lot more than other dads maybe but he also knows space is important

- he overthinks a lot, so he’s always worrying when his daughter comes home late

- he trusts her, but he knows how influenced teens can get when around with friends

- he’s the type of dad that seems scary cause his blank and serious looks, but he’s actually soft af

- he kinda strict though ngl

- he wants his daughter to do good in all aspects of life, school, careers, everything

- so he’s kinda the strict parent

- when his daughter was little, and even now, he makes sure she always eats good

- she can’t leave the table unless she’s cleaned her whole plate up, he’s very humble sooo

- he’s the one who helps his daughter through tough days or if she has mood swings lol

- he had to deal with bokuto and his ups and downs, so you best believe he’s skilled in that department

- he makes sure his daughter is always neat looking

- he’s not a clean freak by any means, but he always wants her looking presentable/neat

- when he learned his daughter had a boyfriend, lets just say he didn’t talk for hours after the first initial “oh...”

- “dad I want you to meet him” “who?” “my boyfriend- I just said that!” “oh...”

- “mom said you’d react like this, but he’s a good guy promise. “i’d only bring home the best for you to meet”

- doesn’t wanna accept she’s growing up and is sad about it

- isn’t gonna say he cried about it, but he probably cries in your shoulder when his daughter is out of the house

- it’s always been his daughter and him against the world, and it feels as if he’s letting her go, when in reality, he’s not

- she’ll still come home at the end of the day

- misses when she was a baby, because he could read books and tell her stories all day :(

-nonetheless he’s happy for her, just SHOOK

Yu Nishinoya

- omg he loves his kids so much, he always does the most extra stuff for them

- throws over the top crackhead birthday parties

- has a football team of kids ngl

- 4 kids-

- and he wants more, but you said no :(

- it took him years to get over the initial shock that they also need your attention too- BUTTTTTT he got over it

- he has 3 sons and a daughter and keeps them so active lol

- he’s always going on adventures with them

- he’s the dad that would take his kids camping, in their backyard though (his youngest child is too young to go camping)

- but he sets up a cute little tent and bonfire and its so cute

- sooooo, nishinoya has grown since high school, and although he’s not the tallest or biggest man, he’s taller

- in old photos, his sons (if taller) make fun of his heigh, poor nishi

- will slap them silly

- if his sons are popular in school and get a lot of attention, they are the only boys he will accept who get attention

- he’d be like yes bitch, get them girls/guys

- anyone who looks at his daughter is going to face a rabid chiuaha

- he may not seem so strictly protective, but he doesn’t like when anyone flirts with his daughter

- it is his only daughter, and the youngest child at that

- he embarrasses his kids, A LOT. especially when they're older

- they didn’t realize as young children why the people would stare when they went to amusement parks or to get ice cream

- BUT NOW

- they see it :(

- when you decided it would be great for the whole family to go out for dinner, it resulted in your husband getting into an argument with a waiter for apparently “flirting with my daughter and my wife”

- simply put, the waiter was not flirting, he was just doing his job, taking your order-

- nishinoya is a rabid Chihuahua all the time, and results in his family getting kicked out of a lot of restaurants/places because he’s TOO LOUD

- if one of his kids got suspended from school, he legit can’t find it in him to punish them, he’s not strict at all and is a major goofball

- instead much to your dismay, he REWARDS them....

- two of your sons got into a fight with another boy, resulting in suspension? nishinoya takes them both out for dinner

- when he came home from said dinner, he had the largest grin on his face claiming to you, “they were standing their ground!”

- your son starts rumors about another boy? all nishinoya can say was that it was deserved

- your daughter bad mouths a fellow student and gets suspended for vulgar language? rabid chihuahua dad to the rescue!

- defends his daughter in front of you, the principle, and other child's parents while in the principles office

- the whole house is chaotic and a zoo, and you’re the only sane one tbh

- if not for you, they wouldn't be disciplined at all

- truthful, nishinoya means well and did mature (?) but overall he’s very crackhead chaotic embarrassing dad

Tsutomu Goshiki

- okay so goshiki as a dad is so cute uwu

- we all know he loves to show off, soooo

- he shows his son of every chance he gets

- when you three go to the grocery store, he’s always proudly holding his son on his shoulders, making sure people see him lol

- and when they do see him and comment how cute he is, goshiki just be like “i know” with the FATTEST smirk

- when he’s teaching his son how to walk, he’ll intentional take his son outside and walk him around on the strip of sidewalk in front of your house and a few of the neighbors houses

- he knows that your neighbor, a grandma who’s grandkids are all older and don’t visit much, will see it through her window and come out to gush at how cute your son is and how he’s a better walker than her grandkids when they were his age

- goshiki couldn’t be prouder lmao

- brags about his kids to the Green Rockets ALL THE TIME

- will confidently and proudly say he has the cutest and smartest kid on the planet and will argue about it for hours to anyone

- “shiki, it’s not a debate, why’re you so defensive?” you asked one afternoon after picking Goshiki up from practice with the Green Rockets, one of his teammates sat in the back with your son beside him in his car seat

- you offered to take his teammate home seeing as though his ride wouldn’t be here for a while, plus he lived a street over so it was easiest and made more sense

- the whole way, Goshiki’s teammate was happily playing peek-a-boo with the three year old, your son was having a blast, and all you could hear were his loud giggles, it was adorable

- “i think he likes me” his teammate mentioned after fifteen minutes. your husband scoffed beside you in the passenger seat

- “i think so too. he’s shy because goshiki is always showing him off, but he really likes you!” you explained, eyes focused on the road

- the whole time gohsiki was glaring back at his teammate

- “look goshiki, he’s reaching for me! he wants a hug”

- “It’s just because you’re holding his favorite binky.”

- eye-

- “....whatever. I still think he like’s me.”

- your husband just coldly laughs and turns around to face the front, “no”

- goshiki spends a lot of time with his son in his early years, so they're very close and always do stuff together

- but on his sons first day of preschool he’s more nervous than his son is tbh

- he prideful, so he knows his son is going to make tons of friends and do alright, but he can’t help but feel bored and alone the rest of the day, since he’s so used to doing everything with him

- on his days off, he always woke up early with his son and spent the day together

- now he has to send him off to preschool for the WHOLE day...

- not gonna lie, the first week wasn’t as bad as he imagined it, but once the second week started, it kicked in for the first time that this would be an everyday occurrence until summer and it wasn’t something temporary

- on the second monday of preschool, after dropping his son off, he comes home sad and legit goes to find you to complain and whine

- “does he really need preschool?” goshiki whined.

- “yes, shiki, it’s important.”

- “homeschool is an option.”

- you laughed. “who will teach him?”

- “me of course.”

- “what? NO!”

- an hour later...

- “i miss him.”

- “he’ll be back in two hours.”

- “two hours is too long.”

- probably cried in your neck a few minutes later because he was sad about it :(

- don’t tell his teammate though-

- he gets happy again though when you reassure him how much he misses goshiki too

- his response.... “well duh, I am his favorite.” prideful bastard...

- IS SO SO SO HAPPY WHEN HE GOES TO PICK HIS SON UP HUSH

- HIS SMILE IS SO HUGE UWUWUWU

10.21.20, rayofsunas

#haikyuu!!#hq #yuji terushima #yuji terushima x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #yu nishinoya #yu nishinoya x reader #tsutomu goshiki #tsutomu goshiki x reader #akaashi x reader #terushima x reader #nishinoya x reader #goshiki x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader

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fullmetalscullyy · 3 years

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lazy mornings

this was a request from ao3 where they asked for some clingy riza. i’ve been feeling v sappy and soft for them recently so decided just to go for it and get writing this one. it was just what i needed uwu hope u enjoy!

rated: g | words: 1537 | tags: fluff, romance, morning cuddles, secret relationship

read on: ao3 | ffnet

“When do you plan on arriving at work?”

Riza watched as Roy shrugged into his military jacket and adjusted it on his shoulders. Her stomach twisted at the thought of him leaving. They’d spent a lovely – secret – evening together last night and now morning was here she didn’t want him to go. They had work in a few hours, but the thought of being apart from him made Riza fidget restlessly. She wanted him to return to bed so she could either fall asleep against him or lie there and listen to his heartbeat. She’d never admit that out loud, but that was honestly what she wished to do. It would make her happy.

Roy shrugged. “The usual time.”

“And when will that be? Knowing your habits it could be any time of morning.”

“I like to pepper a little bit of mystery into your day,” he grinned.

“That’s not the point,” she frowned at him.

He shrugged. “I’ll drive home and have a quick shower and grab some breakfast. Then,” he smirked, “I’ll go and grab some coffee for us both and see you at the office after that.”

“Why can’t you shower and eat here?”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She cringed slightly but Riza didn’t retract them.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he reassured and that relieved some tension in Riza’s shoulders. They relaxed downwards, but she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding that worry there. “Believe me, Riza,” he added, stopping himself from lacing up his boots so he could turn and face her properly. “I want to spend every waking moment possible with you.”

Her heart fluttered inside her chest.

“I just… I thought we agreed this was the best way?”

“I know,” she sighed. Riza dropped her gaze and started to fiddle with the sheet covering her.

“Besides, surely you can last a few hours without me?”

He lifted an eyebrow but also regarded Riza with a look that said he knew something she didn’t. Riza didn’t like it one bit.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” His smile was teasing as he rounded to her corner of the bed. Roy crouched low so he was eye level with her, balancing on the balls of his feet. His head cocked as he tried to figure her out. “What did you mean then?”

Riza shrugged. She did know what she meant though. She knew she didn’t want him to go. Plain and simple. However, voicing that thought aloud was another matter.

“Will you really miss me that much?”

She didn’t answer because she would. She’d miss their closeness and his affection. At work she couldn’t run her hair gently through his fringe like she was doing now. She couldn’t steal a kiss whenever she liked. Ever the professional, and also committed to her duty, Riza would never expect to be able to, however it would be nice to have the option. Even just for one day.

Roy laughed to himself. He leaned forward and pecked her cheek. “What’s made you so clingy all of a sudden?”

Her head snapped up to look at him. Her? Clingy?

“I’m not being clingy,” she denied immediately.

Roy lifted his hands in surrender but the amused look on his face told her that he still believed that was the case.

“I’m not being clingy,” she repeated, emphasising that fact.

“Whatever you say, Riza.”

His smirk didn’t help ease her irritation.

Or are you only irritated because he’s right and you don’t want to admit it? You don’t want to acknowledge just how much you need and want him –

Was she really being clingy?

Riza felt her cheeks flush and turn a light shade of pink. It was made even worse when Roy grinned at her, noticing her embarrassment.

“Riza Hawkeye? Being clingy? Now I’ve seen it all,” Roy mused, far too pleased with his newest discovery.

She glared at him, but he didn’t acknowledge her warning look.

“I could just cancel tonight,” she threatened lightly, “and not come round to your apartment if you’re going to be like that.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned with a laugh.

“Now who’s being clingy?”

“Who started it?”

He petulantly stuck his tongue out at her and it just made Riza roll her eyes in response.

“It’s always nice to know that my presence is wanted.”

Glancing up at his face was a hesitant move on Riza’s part, but all she saw was his open and honest expression. His playfulness and amusement were gone. In their place was nothing but sincerity and a soft loving smile.

“And I love to know that I’m wanted by you.” He lifted a finger and tapped her nose affectionately.

“You always will be,” she whispered into the quiet room.

“I always feel clingy whenever I leave you.” He didn’t even bat an eye at his admission. “I would say I’m a great actor but when it comes to the private moments like this,” he gestured between them, “that we share, I never want to hide anything.” His eyes pierced into her own gaze. “So I’m sure you’ve noticed that I can be the same way sometimes too,” he chuckled.

“I had,” she admitted, his comment making her smile.

“There’s nothing wrong with being clingy.” Roy leaned forward and pecked her cheek. “It makes you even more endearing than before.”

“Really?” Her cheeks turned pink again, but a questioning eyebrow lifted high on her forehead along with it.

Roy nodded as he grinned at her. “Not that you aren’t always endearing to me, but it does. Makes me want to stay here with you for a little while longer,” he groaned.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

This time it was his turn to glare at her. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“I’m not,” Riza replied innocently. She could see his resolve wavering. He was seriously considering it.

Just once would be okay, wouldn’t it?

Riza rolled over in place and cuddled back into the pillow he’d been lying on. “I suppose I’ll just have to put up with this poor substitute instead,” she sighed in disappointment.

She shivered as the cool morning air caressed the skin of her bare back. Rolling in place had shifted the sheet covering her. Riza hadn’t minded before because she’d had Roy beside her, who was like a furnace. Now, without him, it was much colder –

The bed dipped, startling her. Roy had shed his work clothing and was currently climbing back in beside her.

“Scoot over.” He nudged at her shoulder and eagerly, she did as he asked. “We can do without good coffee today, right?”

She snickered and sidled right up against his side. “I can make that sacrifice in exchange for you staying here.”

She wrapped her arm across his stomach and held on tight. Underneath her ear his heart beat steadily, and she was instantly soothed.

“Thank you for staying,” she whispered against his skin.

Roy flinched gently as her breath tickled him and it made Riza grin to herself.

“What can I say? I’m a weak man when it comes to you, Riza Hawkeye,” he beamed.

“You love it though.”

“I do. And I love you too.”

Gently, his fingers nudged her chin so she would lift her head. Roy leaned down to capture her lips with his, kissing her softly.

“You’re so good to me, indulging me like this,” she added, her tone turning timid as he made himself comfortable.

“It’s not exactly a hardship,” he laughed.

“No, I know, but –”

“Don’t worry about it. My upcoming day will be even better now, compared to if I’d left. I would have spent a few hours missing you and that’s no way to live at all. Not when you were here waiting for me.”

She hugged him tighter. “I love you.”

A kiss was pressed against the top of her head. Once he’d settled, Riza angled her head to reciprocate in her own way but paused. Her cheek had brushed over something hard and uncomfortable, causing her to stop and investigate.

She lifted up onto her elbow. Out the corner of her eye she could see Roy was confused, wondering what was wrong, but Riza ignored him. She shifted the chain of his dog tags and couldn’t help but grin at the wedding band she’d given him that was held on it. It matched the same one she kept hidden on her own dog tags. The one he’d given her years ago.

Riza pushed it aside gently so she could press a kiss atop his heart.

Once settled back down, the two didn’t fall back asleep. They gave it up so they could simply lie there and exist together, holding one another. Riza played with Roy’s ring. She twirled it around her fingers while Roy’s hand rested atop hers. His touch wasn’t heavy enough to restrict her movements, it was so his fingers could reach and stroke over her wedding band. Last night she’d taken it off her dog tags and slid it onto her ring finger just for him. For them.

It was the best morning they’d ever shared together.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai oneshot #fic request #emma writes

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