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tom-foolery-time · 4 years

Text

Good Ol’ Competition

George Weasley x Ravenclaw! GN reader

Embers sparked from the fireplace onto the thick navy blue carpet of the Ravenclaw common room. A quiet chatter filled the space, as it almost always did. The Ravenclaw common room was never empty, someone was always studying, working, or sleeping on their books, it felt as if the rug was so plush it was meant for tired overachievers slumped over their studies. Tucked in a corner leaned against your favorite bookshelves your homework is left undone in your lap as you stare at the wall trapped in wandering thought. You find yourself so distracted you don’t notice the approach of a house mate, until they slide their back against the bookcase to seat themself beside you.

“Did you see Pansy’s new do?” the curly haired girl asked with a snorting giggle.

“Green really suits her doesn’t it?” you jested, joining her in laughter. You were grateful for your friendship with Nelly, she’d made you proud to be a Ravenclaw. Her thoughtfulness, creativity, and seeming ability to always say the right thing made you immediately cling to her when you met on the train to Hogwarts your first day.

Nudging you with her shoulder she rhetorically inquired, “Those boys sure know how to fuck with the wrong people, dont they?”

“First of all, we can’t be sure it was in fact them,” you rebutteled, “and secondly, the hardest people to mess with often need it the most.”

“Well, considering neither of us have said Weasley yet both knew who we were talking about implies we do know who did it.” Nelly laughed again. It seemed her dark regal eyes were meant to scrunch up in pleasant smiles all the time, it suited her lovely, round, face perfectly.

“Ah the double bladed dagger of fame.” You sighed with an exaggerated shrug. “I bet if two reasonably quiet ravenclaws attempted pranks they’d never get caught. And might even be extremely successful.”

Nelly narrowed her eyes as she stared into your wide inquiring ones. “Put your eyebrow down you nit. What do you have in mind?”

“Don’t you think Draco and Pansy deserve matching looks? Slytherin prince and princess, yes?” You asked your cohort, mischievous smile ever present.

“What implications are you making? You know I require directness.” Nelly questioned.

“A copycat prank-” you stopped for dramatic effect and to give Nelly a second chance to guess, but as she did not interrupt you, you continued your explanation, “Everyone already knows the twins caused Pansy’s green hair, so…”

“So…?”

“So we give the same elixir to Draco. Everyone will think it was Fred and George again, and we’ll get to enjoy some good justice and none of the punishment!” You finished with an accomplished smile.

“Ahh, justice without the justice, I see. I can’t believe you’re not Slytherin.” Nelly rolled her eyes.

“I’m vaguely insulted but you didn’t say no.”

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After helping with the potion Nelly was adamant that you have to be the one to do the actual deed, since it was your idea, so all you had to do was slip the little vial of shimmering liquid into Draco’s chalice at breakfast. Simple enough. Journeying alongside Nelly and a couple other Ravenclaw pals, you briefly passed the Slytherin table. Nelly stepped on Malfoy’s robes as she passed and while he turned to see who gave his robe a tug, you poured the vial in his chalice. Nelly fluttered her eyelashes and apologized with her bright smile, and Draco was none the wiser. You managed to contain your giggles until you reached your table, upon arrival you leaned into Nelly’s sweatered arm to hide your snickers as she hid hers in her cup of tea. Scanning the room your eyes landed accidentally on a particular weasley, one whom you were seconds away from throwing under a bus. George Weasley’s freckles seemed to tease you as they lined themselves up along his cheeks and marched onto the bridge of his nose. His hair was messy as if he never brushed it, which you assumed he hadn’t. His toothy smile crept to the side of his face as he bantered with his housemates. Nelly was the reason you loved being a Raveclaw, but George Weasley made you wish you could wear those red and gold ties, made you wish you were just a bit louder, and just a bit braver. Coffee colored eyes seemed to eat at your own as your lingering gaze was caught by its recipient. He tilted his head causing his mess of red hair to flop to the side as he offered a smile just for you and quickly received one in turn before you looked back down to your plate. You needed to distract yourself, you needed to eat a huge delicious breakfast right this moment.

“Y/N! Look, LOOK!” Nelly excitedly whisper yelled as she tugged on your arm and bounced in her seat, looking over at the almost forgotten Slytherin table.

“Holy shit it worked. We’re bloody geniuses.” you mumbled, staring at the green mop atop the head of the largest prick in school. Slowly other tables began looking over, and the snickers and stares of his own housemates alerted the now green haired boy to his altered appearance. Draco rose from his seat and stormed out of the dining hall as whispers increased before turning into full, loud conversations as his posse had followed him out. When your eyes drifted back to the Gryffindor table a viscous guilt seemed to find its way into your stomach, sloshing around, unsettled. When your eyes happened to meet George’s once again, you raised an eyebrow and motioned with your finger from the slytherin table back to him, mouthing the questioning word, “you?”. You felt guilty but you didn’t suddenly feel stupid, busting yourself was more of a gryffidor thing anyway. George looked around the room and offered back an exaggerated shrug. Perhaps he was still questioning whether they should take credit for it, or maybe he wasn’t sure if Fred had acted on his own. Regardless his lack of denial to the crime released some of your guilt, if he didn’t want the credit he’d figure it out. The Weasleys were a resourceful bunch.

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While trying to make your escape after breakfast you found yourself halted by a light grab on your sleeve. The grabber in question was of course the Weasley with whom you most struggled to keep your composure. Beyond simple crushing and blushing you now had to worry about any fumbles that may lead to a confession not of romance but of pranking guilt.

“Y/N can I walk with you to class?” George inquired with that tempting smile you couldn’t quite resist.

With a gentle teasing air and a very pointed gaze toward the ground you asked, “Do you get lost without Fred to walk with you?”

“I do, he’s my compass. Would you help a poor lost little boy find his way to class?” He asked, and the adorable begging look upon his face made you wish you’d kept your eyes on the floor.

Laughing, you replied, “I suppose. I am feeling charitable today.” His eyes shone and his grin pushed his freckles into each other. You could get used to him looking at you like that.

“Quite odd happenings at breakfast today, huh?” George questioned during your brisk walk through the hall.

“Ah yes, green looks quite good on them, you did an impeccable job.” You answered, nudging him with your shoulder.

“We did do a good job.” He agreed, and you smiled to yourself, feeling momentarily like you’d gotten away with your scheme, “And then someone else did an even greater job.”

“What ever do you mean by that?” You feigned ignorance as your eyebrows found refuge in the middle of your forehead.

“Well if I’m honest, which I rarely am, I think making the pair of them match was brilliant, but it was not Fred or I’s doing. At least not the Malfoy part.” George admitted as you two approached the door of your class.

Before you slipped into the room you left him with the haunting sentence, “Then it appears you have some competition.”

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The school seemed to be tiptoeing as the rate of pranking seemed to have increased substantially. The Weasley's vandalized the Hufflepuff entrance with glitter that seemed nearly impossible to get off, and stuck to the clothes of everyone who entered and exited. Then the Hufflepuffs’ common room floor was replaced by a bed of flowers, which garnered little uprise as most were quite content with the change, but it was intended to be a prank. Figuring their competitor wouldn’t prank their own house, Fred and George narrowed them down to a gryffindor or ravenclaw. Their assumptions were confirmed when they charmed the Ravenclaw books to fly away from their shelves and create utter chaos in the common room, and in response the gryffindor house received a prank as well. After entering the portrait hole the unfortunate gryffindor would land in 3 feet of water, the gryffindor common room had effectively become a children’s pool. As the prank war continued the Weasley twins managed to escape many punishments, but were not lucky enough to escape a few detentions. Their competitors however remained anonymous, with the small hint of Ravenclaw. The issue of competing with a Ravenclaw, was they seemed to think three steps ahead. Not to mention competing with one and a half ravenclaws, as Nelly helped occasionally but preferred to maintain limited involvement. You were so careful and thought everything out so thoroughly, that you couldn’t have predicted your downfall being your own over preparedness.

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You had stayed up all night trying to plan your next prank, the feeling of baffling the Weasley twins you had found surprisingly addictive. All your plans were charmed to invisibility, and tucked safely under a floorboard beneath your bed, you made sure to always be clean and precise, but you often forgot to give yourself time to rest. The nagging secrecy didn’t aid in your sleeping either, but overall you were quite proud of yourself. You didn’t even bat an eye when George asked to walk with you to your first class of the day, it had started to become a tradition after breakfast. Your guilt was easy to forget when you were laughing and sharing stolen glances with the tangerine headed wizard. But the walk to class you partook with George the morning after your all night scheming seemed to be doomed as your bonding with George had led him to notice the small changes in you that morning.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” He asked as his brows furrowed, looking at the grey bags under your eyes.

“What? Why do you say that?” You questioned, turning to face him.

“You just seem tired. What were you up to last night?” His inquisition, though initially innocent triggered a paranoia in the back of your mind. A stress your mind could’ve better handled had it gotten any rest the night before, but in your slightly crazed, drained state you failed to make sensical replies.

“Nothing. Sleeping probably. I don’t know, what were you doing?” You deflected ungracefully as you pointed your head to the floor. George’s feet stopped in place and you nearly walked right on without him. You stopped a few paces ahead of him and turned to look up at him as he stared back at you with squinted eyes.

“Sleeping. Probably.” came his reply as his gaze bore holes into your soul. He stepped towards you and you noticed briefly that you two would be late to class soon as the halls were quickly emptying.

You couldn’t back track now so you bulldozed straight ahead, “That is what I said.”

“Hmm, you’d think, a Ravenclaw as clever as Y/N, L/N, would be able to remember whether they slept or not.” He answered nonchalantly with a slight shrug.

“Well it’s hard to remember when you’re tired.” you mumbled, feeling the conversation crumble.

“And you’re tired because…?” George questioned with a small smile as he leaned nearer your face, still staring into your eyes.

“Because you are such a bother.” You huffed, turning to march off to class. Your motion was quickly stopped by his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you back. When you turned back around to face him you found yourself locked in an awkward, distanced hug, of sorts.

“And do you prank my house because you find me such a bother, L/N?” He questioned with the most mischievous of glints in his soft brown eyes.

Pausing to gather your courage you continued your denial, “I’m certain I have no idea what you mean.”

George pulled you slightly closer, and you turned your gaze from his eyes to his chest as a result. He spoke again, entirely ignoring your denial of his accusation, “I knew it had to be someone clever, and I don’t know anyone more clever than you, but I must admit I didn’t suspect you for quite a while. I didn’t think you would be so… difficult.”

“Difficult? Please. If anything, competition helped you make your pranks better.” You looked back into his eyes and had only a moment to do so before his face was rushing toward you. He brought his hand up to cup your cheek as his lips crashed into your own. Initially startled, your eyes stared ahead until his other hand came to the small of your back and you fully melted into him. You placed your hands delicately on his chest, before moving up and over his shoulders to hang loosely around his neck. When he attempted to pull away, your lips followed and found their way back to his causing George to huff a laugh as he kissed you again. When you relinquished your capture of his lips and moved your face back you stayed in each other's arms, warm and blushing.

“I’m glad it’s you.” George mumbled as he nuzzled his warm face into the crook of your neck, “Now that I’ve romanced you I can use your stealth powers to further my own pranking prerogative.” His comment earned your shoving him off of you as you both laughed.

“I can’t believe I let you make me late to class just to snog in the hall. You’ve truly spoilt my character.” You teased, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. Before he had any time to reply, you bolted down the hall to class, and were not surprised to hear him follow quickly after you.

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First fanfic! It’s x reader because that’s the comfort food of fanfic to me, and felt like a good place to start. If anyone wants to request anything that’d be cool :)

(And every common room description I think of seems to start with a fire place...)

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volleydorkscentral · 5 years

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ANSWER ALL OF THE QUESTIONS IN THE UNUSUAL ASK GAME, YOU COWARD.

First of all:

Second, questions under the cut:

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? - Spotify! all the way. i hoarse my bf’s account so he can never listen but i don’t care it’s mine now it’s full of my music and my playlists and whenever i’m listening to it and it suddenly changes cause he tries to use it on his phone I call him, “are you using spotify?” “oh. i mean i can listen to something else?” “cool, thanks!” and i get my music back. :D

is your room messy or clean? - it’s somewhere in between. my actual ROOM (bed room, i assume) is pretty clean, except i never make the bed. but the house is .. a work in progress. it’s not dirty but it’s cluttered so my bf and I are having to work together to clear that and build shelves and stuff for more storage space.

what color are your eyes? - dark brown! (with little green flecks when I cry)

do you like your name? why? - Not really? i don’t hate it. My mom wanted to name me Savannah but they had her sign the certificate while she was still drugged from her c-section so it ended up as Crystal?? Idk. She named her dolls Crystal when she was a kid.

what is your relationship status? - dating for almost six years.

how many times a week do you shower? uhhh idk. I don’t shower every day (unless i get gross). AT LEAST four times… but I don’t wash my hair every time cause that’s bad for my hair. I SHOWER WHEN I AM DIRTY.

favorite tv show? does Haikyuu!! count? that’s probably a given. HM. Well, we don’t have cable so I don’t watch a lot of NEW shows? …. OH. Duh. Fuckin me I’m a dumbass. Bob’s Burgers. I literally have it on ALL THE TIME. I don’t like silence so it’s ALWAYS on in the background if i’m not listening to music. I’ve seen every episode a zillion times. I can usually pinpoint every scene and the major lines/jokes.

shoe size? most brands it’s 5 1/2

how tall are you? SHORTER THAN NISHINOYA BUT TALLER THAN YACHI. I’m like… 5ft-5’1 depending on how much my back hurts. (i used that earlier and someone said it was funny and i’m trash so i’ll repeat it here!)

sandals or sneakers? i wear Bobs LOL. (knock off toms) and i’ve got one pair of sneakers and sometimes I wear my ballet flats around even though my bf says they look dumb fuck u they’re comfy.

do you go to the gym? No. I used to, but where I live now it’d be like a 45 min drive. I don’t really LIKE gyms though? working out is boring to me. No matter how hard I try. I’d love to start dancing again for real.

describe your dream date - April 25th because it’s not too cold and not too hot. Okay but jk that’s a lie where I live it’s balls hot in april. Idk. I’d like to go hiking when it’s not very hot? Take my dog, let her run around. Take a picnic. Sit in a grassy field and talk about dumb shit cause we know each other’s dreams and hopes by now.

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? UHM. fuck like…. $27? i know there’s a twenty and a handful of ones. And a handful of change.

what color socks are you wearing? - NONE. MY FEET ARE COLD. FOREVER COLD.

how many pillows do you sleep with? - pft like 6.

do you have a job? what do you do? - No; I quit after being over worked, under appreciated, cheated out of my paychecks a few times, and no job still due to lingering health issues.

how many friends do you have? answered this already!

whats the worst thing you have ever done? - UHM. Idk i haven’t murdered anyone. I don’t like this question cause if i really try to answer it i’ll spiral into a frustrated, furious depression and self-hatred so… NOPE.

whats your favorite candle scent? i’ve got this candle i got from etsy that’s like… Scottish Highlands? It’s grassy and kinda MAGICY.

3 favorite boy names - i don’t really have favorite names?

3 favorite girl names - answered already

favorite actor? god idk. i’m so bad with names and celebrities. uhm. I really like don’t have a favorite. I LIKE a bunch. Benedict Cumberbatch; Freddie Highmore… uhm. uh. Hugh Laurie?

favorite actress? IDK OKAY?? I LIKE a bunch but i don’t favorite?? I really like Gwendoline Christie. Uhm. Anne Hathaway makes me laugh. MAGGIE SMITH. how could i forget!??!

who is your celebrity crush? I LEGIT don’t have one.

favorite movie? CLUE takes the top spot most days.

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? I used to read a lot more. The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

money or brains? personality, bitch.

do you have a nickname? what is it? not *really* but people online used to call me Chrys. My bf calls me ‘sweetie’ sometimes but he also calls the dog that so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

how many times have you been to the hospital? - uhm. like the er? Once when I broke my arm. Doc in the box? Not since 2017.

top 10 favorite songs - PFT. Uhm. Jesus just let me die a little. Excluding all Disney; Not in any order:

No One - Biometrix

Danser - Lisandro Cuxi

A Single Moment of Sincerity (E) - Asking Alexandria (the band I was listening to when I designed my rockstar MC that I love so much)

The Annabel Trilogy (a series of 3 albums) - Alesana. Can’t pick a single song because they’re all a part of a huge story. Listen to them.

Chucky vs. The Giant Tortoise - Dance Gavin Dance

Anticoagulant - Sianvar

Ohioisonfire - Of Mice & Men

Coincidance - Handsome Dancer (Watch the Video for the love of god. THANKS ASH FOR THIS GEM)

Devil’s Backbone - The Civil Wars

Still Here - Digital Daggers (i’ve been listening it to a lot for inspiration for a new AU so… yup. That’s gonna be fun and painful)

do you take any medications daily? - yup

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) - i got dry ass skin it sucks

what is your biggest fear? - uhm… physical fear? idk. Heights is a big one that I developed? I used to not care but a while ago I was walking on a bridge and I just… looked over and got FUCKING DIZZZY with nausea and fear that I was gonna fall and almost fainted.

how many kids do you want? - HONESTLY… one or two.

whats your go to hair style? - tried to brush but gave up so just threw it in a claw clip

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) - moderate? one story, four bedrooms. big ass yard though for the dog

who is your role model? - I don’t really have one.

what was the last compliment you received? - answered already

what was the last text you sent? - actual TEXT message? ‘as long as there’s someone with her overnight she’ll be okay during the day cause of the dog door and stuff. just play with her before you go to work and maybe hide some treats around the house for her to hunt for’ - texting my friend that’s gonna house sit while we go on a family vacation soon.

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? - UH idk the age? i know I saw my mom writing scavenger cards though. My fam has never had a lot of money so to make Christmas more interesting my mom/grandparents (we lived with them till I was in 3rd grade) would make these elaborate scavenger hunts for me and my cousins to do to find our presents around the house or out in the barn or, on one memorable occasion, at the bottom of our pool! Good memories.

what is your dream car? - one that RUNS and has badass AC and speakers

opinion on smoking? - hate it. please don’t do it around me. my bf’s family alllllll smoke all the time and i get so sick when i have to go on vacation with them and be around it for a long time.

do you go to college? - i DID. I went to Culinary school and majored in Baking & Pastry

what is your dream job? - Author or Dog Trainer

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? - rural as all hell. give me trees, cows, and horses.

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? Not usually? but usually the people i’m with do.

do you have freckles? Not on my face (except one) but i’ve got more like… on my arms and just randomly all over but i dont think ‘freckles’ would be what anyone thinks of when they think of me

do you smile for pictures? - only if i’m forced to be in them

how many pictures do you have on your phone? - HAHAHAHAHAHA. Well. Before I got my new phone it was over 10k. Now though its only about 2k.

have you ever peed in the woods? - Only when I was camping.

do you still watch cartoons? - ALL THE GODDAMN TIME

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? - neither. but i HATE WENDYS and can tolerate McD’s fries and they’ve got ballin’ sweet tea so I guess McD.

Favorite dipping sauce? this honey dijon creamy thing at my favorite French restaurant but idk what is is.

what do you wear to bed? - t-shirt

have you ever won a spelling bee? - YUP. 2nd grade.

what are your hobbies? - writing, crocheting, photography, reading, uh… i forget what else

can you draw? when i was doing it all the time i did ok? but i’m WAY TOO IMPATIENT now a days to do it.

do you play an instrument? - no but i wish i did :(

what was the last concert you saw? - i’ve never been to a concert. crowds are icky

tea or coffee? - tea!

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? - already answered this

do you want to get married? - Yes pls

what is your crush’s first and last initial? - (bf, but I suppose i still have a crush on him? is love considered a crush?) J. Y.

are you going to change your last name when you get married? god yes. my current last name is my shitbag of a sperm doner and i hate it. my mom kept it after they divorced only cause she thought her maiden name would be too hard for me to spell but i would give anything to have that name instead

what color looks best on you? - idk. i prefer black but i’ve been told green and certain shades of pink/yellow.

do you miss anyone right now? - not until i thought about it, thanks

do you sleep with your door open or closed? open so my pupper can go in and out

do you believe in ghosts? not until i’m faced with darkness and creepy things

what is your biggest pet peeve? people chewing their food loud. people not picking up after themselves. people interrupting me (but not in the excited, OMG way. that we can work though) but in the ‘i don’t care what you’re saying i’m going to talk now’ way

last person you called` - my bf to discuss plans for his brother’s bday

favorite ice cream flavor? cookies n’ cream!

regular oreos or golden oreos? DOUBLE STUFF OF EITHER

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? FUCK SPRINKLES

what shirt are you wearing? a shirt that has my dog’s face on it :D

what is your phone background? - the art that Ash drew of Bokuto from my fic Just a Taste!!

are you outgoing or shy? - i hate talking to strangers but with my friends i’m pretty fucking loud and chatty

do you like it when people play with your hair? only people i know

do you like your neighbors? nope. he’s an asshole who neglected his dog and i wanna skin him alive

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? i do my best to remember to do it at night but i always do it when i shower

have you ever been high? yup.

have you ever been drunk? yup

last thing you ate? BIRTHDAY CAKE

favorite lyrics right now - idk? i guess the first lyrics that came to mind, even though they’re not my favorite, just ones that i like and were stuck in my head for a while: “All of the handsome fiction / will melt away / and when the flame burns brighter / Evaporate” Evaporate - Dance Gavin Dance

summer or winter? WINTER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. IT’S SO FUCKING HOT IN SUMMER I DIE EVERY DAY

day or night? both have their merits

dark, milk, or white chocolate? - all chocolate but i prefer white to just EAT.

favorite month? uhm. uhh. November maybe? for NaNoWriMo.

what is your zodiac sign - pftt.. i think i used to be a Gemini? i don’t believe in all that stuff

who was the last person you cried in front of? - ….. my dog? but probably my mom and Grandmother when my GM basically said my bf didn’t love me and was a shit human being and i was a shit granddaughter for loving him. i was both upset and furious and i walked away from them. (my mom called and apologized, but i haven’t spoken to my GM since)

THERE ASH ARE YOU GODDAMN HAPPY. that took so long LOL (I hope the formatting came through I had to redo it on this tumblr page UGH)

#ask game

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zzizzigom · 6 years

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Hi! Can i request fluff kihyun where he's your coworker and he keeps teasing you but actually he has a huge crush on you but just dont know how to say it? Thank you sooo much and have a nice day!

so i wrote this and then realized it wasn’t exactly what the request was asking for…I hope you still enjoy it though and I’m so sorry it took literally forever to be posted. honestly, wouldn’t surprise me if this anon forgot about it ;;;

anyway, I apologize for any typos I missed while editing

Characters: Kihyun x female!readerGenre: fluffLength: ~1.8k

Kihyun smirks at you from behind as you push up onto your tiptoes. Your hand is stretched as far up as you can reach, and still your fingertips barely touch the roll of paper towels. He hears you release an almost silent groan in frustration as you give up and drop back down to your normal height. Your hand flops down to your side before you reach back up to rake a hand through the hairs that escaped your ponytail. Spinning on your heel you let out a startled shout when you see Kihyun leaning against the doorway.

“Jesus! A little heads up that you’re there would be nice.”

“And miss out on the entertainment?”

Your eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”

“I think you know, pipsqueak.” He winks and has to hold back his cackle at your insulted expression and bright red blush. He’s always so fascinated in your reactions. His eyes following every little nuance in your expressions. Since you’ve started here only a few months ago, the two of you have gotten pretty close. You’ve told him before he’s the only reason you can get through a shift and he agrees wholeheartedly.

Kihyun grins as your lip curls into a soft snarl.

“Fine, if you’re sooo much taller than me, then why don’t you get the towels?”

He smirks, expression smug. “I will.”

You step aside and make a mocking, grand gesture with your arms towards the shelves. Kihyun snickers and steps forward. He looks up, assessing how high the desired item actually is, then with a huff of breath he reaches up. He feels the scratchy texture of the paper towels but he lacks the height to actually grab onto it.

As he falls back to his feet, the chime of your laughter fills the room. The sound makes the corners of his mouth twitch but he holds back to give you a faux glare.

“Looks like you’re on the pipsqueak level right here with me.” Shaking your head, you start towards the door. “Let’s just get Hyungwon to do it. He could use a break from the floor; last I saw he was ready to strangle table 15.”

Kihyun watches you exit the storage room, his smile finally erupting. In all honesty, Kihyun knew he couldn’t reach the paper towels. But he also knew you’d laugh at his failed attempt and the sound of your laugh is enough to get him through the dinner shift.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. Kihyun peeks over at you from where he’s entering a guest’s order.

“You okay?”

“I can’t remember if he wanted diet or regular and I’ve already had to check back in twice and make them wait so he’s getting pissy.”

“Mix both and hope it tastes like whichever one he wants.”

You snort but then push the cup under the diet tab. “Whatever, it’s already been a weird day so I’m going with my gut feeling.”

Kihyun finishes inputting the order and then moves to nudge you aside with his hip. “I’m caught up so you go do what you need to do. I’ll drop the soda off.”

“What if it’s wrong though?”

“Then you’re a shitty server,” Kihyun winks at you.

You swat his arm but then give him a grateful look. “Thank you.”

Kihyun shrugs and sticks a straw into the soda. As he walks through the server station he nods towards the pick up window. “I’ll drop this for you too.”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Absolutely nothing.” With a wide grin, Kihyun picks up the plate and then maneuvers back onto the floor.

He’d never admit it, but he loves the twinkle in your eyes when you give him that relieved look. He likes seeing the stress leave your shoulders when you’re no longer rushing to please these ungrateful guests.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” Your voice is whispered as you duck down to hide behind the divider. Kihyun is walking past you but pauses.

“What’s up?”

“He’s here.”

Kihyun frowns. “Who?”

You give him an incredulous look. “Him!”

You point out to the floor and Kihyun looks up to see a new regular standing by the host stand. He’s finishing up a phone call, his stance relaxed with a hand in the pocket of his business suit. The customer laughs at something then says his goodbye before hanging up. Kihyun watches as he spins to face the host with a dashing smile. Vaguely he hears, “Is Y/N working today? Can I sit in her section?”

Kihyun snorts, a weird feeling in the pit of his gut. “Well get ready cause you just got a new one top.”

Your eyes widen and a blush forms on your cheeks. Kihyun tries not to purse his lips in distaste.

“Go get ‘em tiger.” Kihyun says, his voice a little too curt, a little too flat.

You catch onto it, your eyes peeking up at him but before you see his expression he’s gone. You push it aside, remembering that you have a new customer and stand up straight. Making sure your uniform and apron are clean, you paste on a smile and head out to the floor.

Kihyun leans against the host desk with a scowl on his face. Jennie, the hostess, laughs under her breath.

“You’re so obvious.”

“Shut it.”

Jennie laughs and looks over her shoulder to where you’re talking to your guest. Your hip is leaning against the table and you’re laughing at something he’s said. Looking back to Kihyun, Jennie rolls her eyes. “His name is Choi Seunghyun, he’s some type of museum curator or something. Really successful, really rich, and really handsome. A good catch.”

“I don’t need to know this,” Kihyun mutters.

Jennie shrugs. “Just thought you’d what to know your rival in love.”

Kihyun’s attention snaps to Jennie and the girl giggles teasingly. Kihyun gives her a pointed look. “You, my dear, see more than you need to.”

“It’s my special talent,” Jennie winks. Just then someone enters the restaurant and she puts on her welcoming smile as Kihyun pushes off the host stand and gets back to work.

About half an hour later, the guest finally leaves. You join Kihyun up at the host stand to grab an extra menu for a table. He’s smiling at you suggestively and you pause your movements to give him a frown. “You look creepy.”

“I saw you~”

Your frown deepens in confusion. “What?”

“Putting on the googly eyes for Mr. Museum Curator.”

Your cheeks flare up in a blush as you roll your eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You sure? You looked really smitten to me.”

Whacking him in the arm with the menu, your face is completely red now. “Shut up. You’re so annoying sometimes.”

Before Kihyun can say anything else, you’re walking back to your table.

A little later, a rush comes in, making work the only thing Kihyun can focus on. It isn’t until the tail end of dinner that you remind him of it.

“I wasn’t flirting with him,” you say as you dump more ice into ice well. You pause for the sound of crashing against the metal. “Well, I mean, maybe a little bit subconsciously, he is really sweet and handsome. But he’s not who I’m interested in…”

Kihyun pauses, your word ringing in his ears. “But there is someone you’re interested in?”

His chest tightens at his question. He’s still in the middle of bracing himself for the answer when you nod.

Your voice is small as you say, “Y-yeah…”

Resuming, stacking things onto the tray. “That’s nice,” he mutters as he walks onto the floor. When he comes back you’re running the card for a table. “Does he know?”

“Nope. Haven’t told him yet. He thinks I like someone else.”

Kihyun quirks a brow. “Maybe you should tell him so he doesn’t give up.”

You slide the customer’s receipt into the check presenter and nod as you nibble on your bottom lip. “I think…I think I’m gonna tell him tonight. He’s gonna take me out after work for drinks. You wanna meet him?”

Not really, Kihyun says. “Sure, if I catch you two before I leave I’ll stop and say hi.”

You stand there staring blankly at the presenter in your hands for a moment. Suddenly you take a deep breath, “Sounds good.” You give him a smile before heading out to your tables.

Closing goes by smoothly and soon, Kihyun is in the restroom unbuttoning his uniform shirt to switch into a sweatshirt. When he steps out into the now practically empty restaurant, he sighs and does a final check to make sure everything’s done. After double checking that he’s clocked out, Kihyun heads out the back door.

In the back parking lot he sees you leaning against a bike rack. Your puffy jacket almost devours you as you scuff your foot against the pavement. On one particularly hard scuff, your floral print slide flings off and stumbles at Kihyun’s feet.

He leans down and picks it up before making his way to where you’re sitting. He hands you the sandal and you grin at him in thanks. Dropping it to the ground you slide it back on.

“So, where is he?”

“He’s here already.”

Kihyun looks around the parking lot but finds it empty except for the manager’s car. Before Kihyun can question you, you intertwine your arm with his. “So, where should we go? I’m dying for a beer, honestly. My table seven- are you listening?”

Honestly, he stopped listening as soon as you touched him. You weren’t interested in the museum curator, you were interested in him???

Glancing at you, he finds your face now full of worry and slight embarrassment. Giving a sheepish smile, you begin to pull away but Kihyun catches your hand and keeps your arm in place.

“I’ve never had a girl ask herself out for me.”

You snort. “Well, I’ve never asked myself out for a guy before. I wasn’t sure it would work.”

Kihyun grinned. Suddenly he frowns. “Wow, so you’re just going to flirt with other men in front of me like that?”

Giving a shrug, you start to pull Kihyun through the parking lot. “Like I said Seunghyun’s handsome and really nice.”

“I’m handsome.”

“But apparently not really nice,” you tease.

Kihyun makes a face at you and you laugh. At the sound of of your laughter, Kihyun’s face lights up and his eyes turn gentle as he reaches forward to blush loose strands of hair from your face. “Only kind of nice.”

You blush a little. “Nah, you’re the actual sweetest.”

Embarrassed by the sudden softness, you tug him again to get him moving faster. “Now come on, we’re off tomorrow, and we have a date to plan.”

“Oh do we now?”

“If not, I could stop by the museum Seunghyun works at. I know he’d be happy to see me.”

Kihyun glares. “Don’t you dare. We’re spending the whole day together.”

“Oh are we now?”

“Yes, yes we are.”

#monsta x #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #kihyun #yoo kihyun #kpop scenarios

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panticwritten · 6 years

Text

Pearl-Handled Shotgun: Chapter One

Yeah. I have no posting schedule for this haha. We’ll just see how it goes.

Prologue

Word count: 2978

TW:

Emotional warfare (of the controlling parent kind)

Hardcore dissociation

Reference to police brutality

Alyssa

“You’re lucky we could keep it out of the newspapers.”

Alyssa doesn’t look at her father, drumming her nails against the arm of the chair. Her mom watches from a chair behind him, her disapproval clear in the curve of her brow, the thin line of her mouth. The teen turns her head so she doesn’t have to see either of them.

“That man could have pressed charges. Do you think he would have gone after your little friends?” She bristles at the sneer in his voice, but she keeps her mouth shut. “You have a promising future ahead of you, I won’t stand by and watch you throw that away.”

She nods idly, the bare minimum of what he wants from her.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, your lashing out. Your brother never did anything like this.”

Ah, there it is. Calim, the perfect son. The good one. The easy one.

“He just never got caught,” she mutters.

“What was that?”

She looks up, at the familiar anger in her father’s eyes. He cocks an eyebrow up, expectant. She sighs and shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

He stares at her, his gaze hard, before returning to pacing to and fro in front of the fireplace. “What else have you been doing behind our backs? It isn’t safe, and it certainly isn’t acceptable.”

“Last night was an accident,” Alyssa says before she can hold the words back. “We took a wrong turn.”

He stills, burning eyes back on her. “You shouldn’t have been out at all last night!”

“I already apologized for that.”

“You can’t really think a petty ‘sorry’ will make up for breaking our trust? For sneaking out, so you could—what? Run around the city with a group of delinquents?”

She straightens up, scrabbling to hold onto her unruffled air. “Delinquents?”

“They’re a bad influence.”

“They are not!” Shoulders squared, Alyssa’s practiced placidity ruptures at his ‘holier than thou’ stance. “Stephanie and Jared are good friends, and they don’t treat me like a glass doll or a- a- a piece of advertising!”

“Alyssa, dear, please don’t yell,” her mom warns, her voice soft. It diffuses the immediate tension in the air. Her father says nothing. The coolness in his eyes, however, tells her the damage has already been done. Alyssa clears her throat and continues with more restraint.

“I apologize, sincerely, for what happened. I should have been honest with you.” She pauses, heartened when her father jerks his head in a nod. “It wasn’t the first time I left without permission, and it was unfair of me keep you in the dark.”

“How many times?”

“What?”

“How many times have you snuck out?” he asks. His deceptively level voice spreads anxiety through her chest, thick and sticky in her throat. She swallows it down and makes a mental tally.

“Twelve?” She offers. It’s not counting the days she used shopping trips as cover for driving the roads on the eastern edges of Portland with her friends, but she doesn’t tell him that.

He considers this thoughtfully, as if deciding whether he’ll have honey or jam on his toast. Alyssa sees it in his eyes when he comes to a conclusion, one fist coming down on his open palm.

“Then we’ll discuss this again in twelve weeks.”

Her heart constricts in her chest, driving her to her feet. She manages to keep her mouth shut, but that’s not enough. It’s never enough. He raises a brow, unimpressed, and starts for the family room door.

“You won’t leave the manor unattended until then. You have ten minutes to tell your friends before I collect your devices.” He pauses at the door, looking back with a painfully detached expression. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she says automatically, unable to suppress the reflex.

The door closes behind him, with hardly a whisper. She stares unseeing at the polished surface, almost wishing he had slammed it. She lowers herself back into the chair, wiping the back of a hand over her eyes before the pinch behind them can turn into tears.

If he can keep ahold of his temper, so can she.

“It could have been worse.” Alyssa jolts violently when her mom speaks. She had almost forgotten she was here.

“I know.” She doesn’t look over, dragging her phone out of her pocket. Steph and Jared will lose their minds if she just disappears for three months, especially after her father left them in jail for the night.

“You could have been killed,” she continues, voice low. Alyssa freezes, her fingers hovering over the screen. “ Just because we are who we are doesn’t mean it’s safe to get into trouble. An officer won’t think twice before they pull that trigger.”

Alyssa nods, looking up. Without her father here as a distraction, she now sees what she didn’t before in her mom’s furrowed brow, pressed lips. Fear, not disappointment. Regret pangs in her chest. “I know, mom. I swear we weren’t trying to do anything illegal.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She rises from her chair, full of grace as always, and offers her daughter a strained smile. “You need to be careful. Smarter. I’ll try to talk your father down, but I do agree that you need time to think about what happened last night.”

She nods again, and her mom starts for the door.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.”

She doesn’t answer, closing the door silently behind her. Alyssa sighs, sinking deeper into the back of the chair, and pulls up a group chat.

A<-- Hey.

A<-- I am SO sorry about my father, I can’t believe he just left you there.

A<-- I hope you both are okay. At the very least, that you’re home safe.

A<-- I can’t leave the house on my own for a few months, and he’ll be back for my phone any minute now.

She watches the screen with bated breath. After a moment, both of their icons appear beside the messages. Before she can register her relief, Steph responds.

S--> hey!

S--> i was starting to rly worry

S--> mom picked us up right after u left

A<-- Oh, thank god.

J--> a few months

J--> what the hell

J--> my dad took my keys but like

J--> just for a two weeks

S--> im grounded for a month :(

A<-- We’ve talked about my parents before. Are you really surprised?

J--> nah i guess not

J--> but thats hella rough

J--> someone needs to take some parenting classes

S--> im sorry aly

J--> how to be a good dad and not alienate your children or whatever

J--> oh shit yeah we kinda did get you in trouble huh

A<-- It’s not your fault. My mom said she’ll try to change his mind, but I doubt that will do much good.

A<-- Besides, you both got in trouble, too. It’s as much my fault as it is yours.

J--> no man dont say that

J--> youd never been camping thats a fucking crime

J--> i mean shooting at teenagers for pitching a damn tent should be a crime but thats a whole other thing

S--> jj

S--> not funny

A<-- He’s right, though.

J--> hell yeah drinking down this validation

J--> glug glug motherfucker

S--> stop

S--> ur ok tho?

S--> like should we worry?

Her phone slips through her fingers, pulled away by nimble hands, before she can answer. She hadn’t noticed her father come back in, and he leaves again without otherwise acknowledging her. She watches him go without a word.

Arguing more would make it worse. She’s lucky to have gotten ten minutes.

Now that she’s alone with nothing to do, she hefts herself upright. She stares at the embers glowing in the fireplace, considering what to do for the rest of the day. She has schoolwork due on Monday. She needs to decide within the month between Oxford—her father’s alma mater—or the local university her friends already enrolled in.

PSU sounds more fun. She wouldn’t like to think of the repercussions that may come out of that decision, though. Her parents don’t even know she applied.

She shakes her head and strides out of the room. Her feet take her along the familiar path upstairs to her study while she broods about three months without the promise of a night out on the town or a day flying along back roads in Jared’s convertible. By the time the bars are lifted, she’ll have graduated.

And she’ll have a month with them before her inevitable shipment off to Oxford.

She slams the door much harder than intended at the thought. She’s visited the campus a few times, walked through the city, and something about it leaves her uneasy. It’s beautiful, certainly, but it feels wrong.

She leans back against the door with a sigh, peering at the stack of books on her desk. The last thing she needs is for her grades to slip. She’s on thin ice as it is.

Her gaze drifts to the shelves lining the back of the room. They hold the books she’s sequestered from the library, or those that have been gifted to her.

She crosses to the closest shelf, running a finger along the books’ spines. Many of them, she still hasn’t read. She hasn’t had time to read since her parents began taking her to functions and benefits.

She dips a finger over the lip of the first in a series of old tomes wrapped in leather, one of her mom’s gifts to her this past Christmas, and drags it out. The first seems more weathered than the rest, the cover dull and rough rather than polished. She skimmed the first few pages when she first got the books, and she know there must have been effort put into it. The whole series is handwritten.

It’s as good as anything else.

She takes the book to her desk, promising herself that she’ll only read for a while. She has to get some work done before dinner, after all.

*****

“Alyssa? Are you in there?”

Alyssa jumps at the crackle of the intercom, heart racing and unseeing eyes leaving the yellowed pages of the book. It takes a few seconds to orient herself, remembering where she is. When she does, she recoils at the headache pounding behind her eyes, the roiling tension in her stomach.

She glances back down at the book to find it open near the middle. She can’t remember reading more than the first few pages—it was written as a personal diary of a slave girl named Brietta. She wrote in a neat script about mundane chores and city life, but she can’t remember the details of the anecdotes. She closes her eyes to try and remember.

Her stomach turns over when she catches a wisp of it, but it doesn’t stay long enough for her to grasp the memory itself.

“Alyssa!”

She jolts again, her eyes flying open. She rushes from her seat to the intercom and presses the flashing button for the dining room.

“Yes, mom, I’m here. What is it?”

“Come down for dinner, dear. I hope you haven’t been working too hard.”

She hesitates before answering, looking back to the book. It must have been hours since she holed myself up in there. She doesn’t remember any of it. She shakes her head and taps the button again.

“I’m fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She returns to the desk, ignoring her mother’s confirmation, and turns back to the first couple pages of the book. She finds the mention of ‘afternoons near the cold river after tending to mother’s sickness,’ jams one of many bookmarks upon the desk between the pages, and snaps the book shut.

She leaves it on the desk for later investigation, hurrying out to join her family in the dining room. Maybe some food will ease her lingering nausea.

By the time she enters the dining room on the ground floor, both of her parents are already perched in their seats at the far end of the table. Her mom greets her with a warm smile, her father with a nod from the end chair.

She apologizes for being late and takes a seat across from her mom. The air lays heavy upon the room, increasing the pressure behind her eyes. Even the light viola drifting from the wall speakers can’t break the tension growing with each overdone slice of a knife her father grinds on his plate through the steak.

She struggles to keep from screwing her eyes shut against it, forcing her hands into measured strokes. One bite at a time, then this will be over.

“So.”

It’s her mom that breaks the silence. All sounds of eating pause for only a moment, the rhythm of the meal changing, before continuing as though it never stopped.

“It’s gotten warm awfully fast this year, hasn’t it? Just last week it was freezing.”

“And now we’re in the upper seventies,” her father agrees.

Alyssa manages hold back a physical sigh of relief, bringing a stalk of asparagus to her lips. Her parents chat about the weather, and she keeps her head down—metaphorically speaking.

“How was your afternoon, Alyssa?” her mom asks, bright eyes on her. She lowers a slice of steak back to her plate and clears her throat with a brief glance at her father.

“Uneventful. How was yours, mother?”

She inclines her head, a conspiratorial smile playing on her lips. “Absolutely boring. My husband and daughter were hidden away in their studies all day.”

She laughs before Alyssa can feel guilty. She reaches across the table and brushes her fingers over the back of Alyssa’s hand, forgiveness promised in her eyes.

“Hidden away?” her father remarks. His words flow warmly, a rare grin directed at his wife. “My door is always open to you, Carmen.”

“And watch you approve paperwork all day? No thank you, sir!”

Alyssa can’t help but smile at the exchange.

“And you? You were upstairs for quite a while.”

The sharp change in her father’s tone straightens her spine, and her my expression morphs back into one of bland interest as she turns to meet his eyes. The sudden movement jolts her headache, and she isn’t able to hide all of her wince behind her clenched jaw.

“I was catching up on some reading for class,” she lies smoothly.

“I see.” He nods and leans forward in his chair. “You don’t look well.”

She hesitates, unwilling to admit the truth. She can’t imagine her father’s reaction to her losing several hours of time would be good, so she waits for the jammed cogs in her brain to churn out a suitable response.

“It’s just a headache,” she promises after a long pause, ignoring the way her stomach somersaults as she speaks. “Eye-strain, maybe. I was reading for several hours.”

“You shouldn’t work so hard.” Her mom’s serene interjection prompts her father to return his attention to his plate.

“I lost track of time.” Alyssa offers her a smile. She mirrors it, then turns back to her husband to discuss their upcoming trip to the capital.

Alyssa wastes no more time clearing her plate and asking to be excused. Her mom tells her to take an ibuprofen from her purse in the front hall, which she does on her way back upstairs.

Back on the third floor, she pauses at the door to her study. Just a few steps down the hall, her bedroom waits. Her bed waits, and the pounding behind her eyes feels like reason enough to take an early night.

With a sigh, still, she jerk the door open. She left the lights on, and the glare shining from the glossy cover of a textbook almost turns her back around. She stubbornly crosses the room and takes a seat at her desk.

The leather book waits for her, and she nearly flips it back open on impulse. She glances over at the stack of texts to her right, the slip of paper poking out of the first with a list of tasks.

She lifts the book, the rough cover feeling familiar under her fingertips. The cover doesn’t bear a title or an author, just the letters B.O.F. embossed across the front. She runs a finger over the initials, then the edge of the cover.

The trailing string on the bookmark knocks a pen from the desk, and she straightens up. Within moments, the book is hidden away in the desk drawer. She can read it later, when she’s gotten some work done.

Her work is much harder to get through than she may have hoped. Her headache slowly fades, but she can’t concentrate. Her thoughts keep circling back to Oxford, her friends, and the look on her mother’s face when they spoke in the family room.

That woman has been through enough.

She drops her pen on the desk and groans, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. She’s been reading the same line over and over for the past—she can’t even see how long it’s been because she doesn’t have her phone!

You don’t need to know the time when you’re working. You’re done when the work is done.

She shakes her head in her hands, banishing her father’s words into the ether. He’s taken enough energy from her today.

It’s not fair.

She rises from the chair, every movement sticky and slow. Flicking the desk lamp off, she pads to the door, covering a yawn with the back of a hand. She only made it through two of the six readings due, and she still hasn’t touched the worksheets, but she has all of Sunday to get them done.

She barely registers the walk down the hall to her room. She doesn’t bother turning the lights on, merely kicking her shoes off on the way to the bed and falling face first onto the pillow. Her father will likely have words with her if he catches her sleeping in her clothes, but she doesn’t care.

#supernatural fic #oc/oc fic #my writing #pearl handled shotgun #alyssa showman #there he is #my boy jared strife #aka knock off dave strider #oh damn this means i have to make a character page for her too huh #FUCK #i should do one for stephanie and jared too but ehhhhh #we'll see

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