#I swear she will get a happy ending *side-eyes book 3* *takes a breath* *screams*

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Here's your (non) daily dose of serotonin!

Take care and don't feel obligated to respond to this asap or even at all!

(tw dark humor)

So my brain still isn't over the Mulan parody for Nyla so:

Me telling my friend about the book (transcribed word for word):

So the character, okay, her name is Nyla So on the author’s Tumblr, she has a masterlist of - uh - Nyla’s family and stuff, okay *about to laugh* And the family dies *laughing* ookay? *laughing* No like -  all of her family - she’s the only one left - all her - she has like two brothers and one sister - they DIE - her parents - DIE - *laughing* - poor Nyla, oh my god *laughing*  (irrelevant stuff) So like everyone - dies, dies - so that was funny… ummm, i mean sad, that was definitely sad

(not hating, I do feel bad for poor Nyla, just choosing to denial right now I guess lol)

I'M DYING BECAUSE ALL I CAN IMAGINE IS YOUR FRIEND'S FACE AND THE FACE I WOULD BE MAKING IF SOMEONE DESCRIBED A BOOK TO ME LIKE THIS AND I JUST 🤣🤣 OMG I HOPE YOUR FRIEND DOESN'T THINK I'M A PSYCHOPATH I SWEAR I'M NOT

On the bright side, I really made room for the found family trope :)

*crying hysterically* It was a necessary evil. for the backstory. for the development, the tension. *crying intensifies*

It's okay, I promise things get better for Nyla! I mean...maybe not immediately, but they do get better!

(I am also still in denial. We should start a support group lol)

[kimpossibly]

hi ! imagine Madison Montgomery being frustrated because unlike other witches, reader is super chill, and a little sarcastic, so any time she acts up, reader always replies something witty, but never gets angry at her. so she purposefully tries to piss her off to get a rise out of her, which seems impossible, and turns into a 5+1 type of thing (5 times she tries to annoy her and one time she does). Except that when does, reader gets really pissed at her and it shifts to make-up sex (may i request a soft dom madison). I hope it makes sense because it did in my head. have a good day !

hiiiii!!! omg i love this prompt so much, thank you for requesting it! i ended up only doing 3 rather than 5 because i could only come up with so much HAHA. hope you enjoy ♡

3 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙜𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙮/𝙣 𝙤𝙛𝙛…𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 1 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙙

pairing: madison montgomery x fem!reader

word count:

warnings: swearing, smoking, drinking, smut

Madison Montgomery has a habit of pissing people off. It's not she goes around trying to ruin people's days (but if she does, they probably deserve it...) but if she doesn't wreak a little havoc before sundown, that pretty much means she's had an off day. Making people angry was her specialty.

Not Y/N, though. Never Y/N. No matter how much Madison bitched and moaned, Y/N wouldn't yell or get pissed off. It was almost like that was one of her abilities. Even Nan would find herself at her wit's end because of Madison some days. But not Y/N.

And so, out of pure curiosity (or enjoyment), Madison decided to do a little experiment.

— attempt #1

"Oh, come on, Y/N! All the cool kids are doing it!"

Already the experiment was failing. Madison had whipped out one of her beloved joints from her stash and propped their bedroom window open to smoke. Y/N sat on her bed, studying. She politely declined to join Madison in smoking, and Madison saw an opening.

"Don't be a pussy."

Y/N just shrugged. "I'm good. Say hi to Scooby and Shaggy for me, though."

"Scooby and Shaggy weren't stoners."

"Please, did you watch that show? They were totally stoners."

Madison didn't respond, taking another puff and blowing it out the window. She looked at Y/N, so calm no matter what. After a few moments, Madison stood and walked over to the bed, taking the book off Y/N's lap and moving it to the side. Before Y/N could protest, Madison threw a leg on either side of her waist and put the joint between Y/N's lips, forcing her to take a hit.

Y/N's eyes went wide for a moment, purely out of surprise, but she quickly recovered. She coughed a bit, smoke spilling out of her mouth. Madison expected her to curse her out, or at the very least yell, but Y/N just looked up at her with a calm expression. "Are you happy now?"

Madison tried to hide her frustration. "Fucking fabulous."

"Lovely. Now can I keep studying?"

Madison just rolled her eyes and muttered a whatever, allowing Y/N to pick her book up and go back to studying.

Well that was a fucking bust.

— attempt #2

The second time, Madison figured a group setting might be best. It all started over breakfast, when a fight broke out between Madison and Queenie. It was about something or other—Y/N never paid much attention to these fights. She usually dedicated her energy to breaking them up when they got ugly.

"Bitch, I swear to God!"

Queenie used telekinesis to send a full glass of orange juice at Madison, who used her telekinesis to send it straight into Y/N's lap. She jumped up as the cold juice splashed all over her legs, a gasp escaping her lips.

"Oops," Madison said with a little laugh.

Y/N let out a deep breath, and Madison was sure she was going to scream. But she straightened up, grabbed a napkin, and dabbed at her now stained clothes. "I'm going to go change," she said as though nothing had happened, "Madison, try not to start a food fight while I'm gone, okay?"

She left, leaving Queenie to snicker in satisfaction. Madison clenched her jaw. That bitch was way too chill.

— attempt #3

"Let's play a game."

Madison was getting desperate. This was proving to be more of a challenge than she previously anticipated.

Y/N, who was levitating a book a few feet in the air, let it drop into her hands. "I'm down."

"Shit, anything's better than this," Queenie said, and Nan hummed in agreement.

Madison grinned. "Forget levitating books," she said, letting her copy of Great Expectations thud to the table. "Let's learn to fly."

With a flick of her wrist, Y/N levitated into the air, a little shriek escaping her lips as she flew. Madison put her down after a few moments and Y/N looked at her in awe. "How the hell did you do that?"

"Please, it's easy. It's just like levitating pens."

"Let me try," Queenie said, focusing her eyes on Madison. Within an instant, Madison was five feet in the air, shouting at Queenie to put her back down. She did so (not before letting her hang a while longer) and crossed her arms in satisfaction. "Huh. That was fun."

Madison flipped her off. Nan looked at Y/N. "Me next," she said excitedly.

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, focusing, and then opened them. Immediately, Nan rose a few feet into the air, an excited smile spreading on her face. Y/N smiled a bit, relieved. Madison saw her opportunity. "Come on, bring her a little higher."

"I think this is good," Y/N said calmly.

"Madison's right," Nan said, "I could knock some dust off the chandelier."

Y/N hesitated, pursing her lips for a moment. Then, with a little upwards motion, Nan began to rise higher into the air. Her grin grew as she floated higher and higher, reaching out to touch the crystalline tip of the chandelier.

Madison's fingers twitched a bit as she brought her focus to Nan. What followed happened in the blink of an eye: Madison took control of Nan and proceeded to put her into free fall, and Y/N, upon seeing Nan start to fall, moved the couch underneath her to break the fall. Nan landed with a thud and groaned in pain, having hit her knee in the fall. Y/N's hand flew up to cover her mouth. She hadn't done that, had she?

Before there was too much of a ruckus, Cordelia suddenly appeared in the doorway, having heard the thud. "What happened?"

"Y/N dropped me!" Nan said angrily, clutching her knee.

Cordelia fixed her eyes on Y/N, an uncharacteristic anger taking hold. "Y/N, you know the rules. No using magic on your fellow witches," Cordelia said sharply, going to help Nan.

"I didn't—!" Y/N began, and Madison perked up, waiting for the blowout. But Y/N just paused, taking a breath. "I know. My bad. Sorry, Nan."

Now Madison started to feel a little guilty—a feeling she was not well acquainted with. "She's fine," she said, gesturing to Nan, "she fell a few feet, big whoop."

Cordelia gave her a sharp look before returning her gaze to Y/N. "I trust it won't happen again," she said pointedly.

Y/N nodded. "Yep."

Cordelia left with Nan in tow, and Y/N just turned back to the group, eyes fixing on Madison. "You owe me, movie star."

There was no malice in her words—not even in the slightest. She just went back to practicing levitation with the book without a fight. It was Madison who was fuming and resisting the urge to throw Great Expectations against the wall as she watched Y/N carry on as if nothing had happened.

— attempt #4 (the 1 time it worked)

The last plan was half-baked, as Madison only came up with it when the two of them were at a frat party a few blocks away and Madison had already had three shots of vodka. A guy across the room had been eye-fucking her all night—well, he was one of them. Madison expected all eyes on her when she went out, so she carefully selected those she wanted to reciprocate eye contact with. It was only when she noticed this particular guy's friend that an idea formed in her head.

"Come with me," she said, taking Y/N's hand.

"Where are we going?"

"Ever heard of a two-man?"

Y/N shouted something that Madison didn't hear. They were deep in the throes of the party now, connected at the hand to prevent themselves from getting split up. Y/N stayed a few feet behind as Madison went up to the two guys and started talking. She couldn't make out a word of what they were saying, but one of them kept eyeing her while the other couldn't tear his eyes off Madison. Eventually they seemed to come to some kind of agreement and Madison took Y/N's hand again, both of them following the two guys up the stairs.

"Their names are Andy and...something else, I don't know," Madison said as they went up the stairs.

"Where are we going?"

She didn't get an answer. They ended up in a bedroom at the end of the hallway—empty, secluded, and only a little bit quieter than the rest of the house. For a moment, the four of them just stood there, staring each other up and down like sizing them up. Then Madison grinned at Andy. "Well? Are we gonna get this started or what?"

Andy glanced at the other one (Y/N felt horrible that she still didn't know his name) and then looked back at the two girls. "You first."

Y/N frowned, confused, but before she could ask for clarification, Madison rolled her eyes and pulled Y/N in to kiss her hard. It took a good few moments to get over the initial shock of the kiss. Y/N noticed that she tasted like cigarettes and smelled like Dior perfume. Madison's tongue briefly swiped her bottom lip, and then she pulled away, fixing her lipstick and turning back to the boys. "Happy?"

They didn't respond.

Now, by this point, Y/N had taken at least three rounds of shots with Madison, so her reaction time was a bit impaired. Before she could really assess, one of the guys (Not Andy) had his lips on hers and was attempting to unzip her dress, and she realized all at once that she did not want to be in this situation.

Y/N pushed the guy off of her. "What the fuck?"

Andy looked at Madison. "I thought you said she was cool with it."

"She is cool with it," Madison replied, "right, Y/N?"

Y/N looked at her like she was crazy. "No, Madison, I'm not cool with this! Oh my God!"

Without another word, Y/N stormed out of the room, down the stairs, and out onto the street. It wasn't until she was down the front steps of the house that she realized Madison had followed her.

"Y/N, Jesus Christ, slow down," Madison said. Y/N didn't slow down. Madison rolled her eyes. "This was your idea!"

Y/N stopped, whirling around to look at the blonde. "No it wasn't, Madison! It's always your idea! It's always your shit that gets me into trouble! I've tried to be nice about it and let things go, but I'm fucking done, okay? I'm done."

She turned and kept walking, and Madison realized she had finally gotten what she wanting—Y/N was truly and royally pissed.

Y/N didn't talk the entire way back to Robicheaux's. Madison trailed a few feet behind her (partially because her heels were killing her), trying not to let on how worried she really was. The longer she was silent, the more Madison realized she had never really seen Y/N mad before. Nor did she really know how long she was able to stay mad for.

When they got back, Y/N went straight to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Madison stood outside for a moment, wondering if she should ask to talk, but then she heard the shower run. She took that as her cue to leave.

Ten minutes later, Y/N walked back into the room, wrapped in a towel, hair wet. She sat on the edge of her bed for a moment, absentmindedly brushing knots out of her hair. Madison watched her for a moment before getting up and crossing the room. She sat down beside her and Y/N gave no indication that she even registered her presence. She just went on brushing her hair as if no one was there.

Eventually Madison reached out and gently took the hairbrush out of her hands. "Hey, look at me," Madison said softly.

Reluctantly, Y/N looked over at her, her face stoic. Madison took her now empty hand. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Whatever, Maddie. It's fine—"

"No, it's not," Madison interrupted. "It was stupid. I should've made sure you were fine with it, or whatever. Just...let me make it up to you."

She reached out, moving the wet hair away from Y/N's neck. She leaned in slowly, taking in the smell of her strawberry shampoo and vanilla body wash. Then she pressed a soft kiss to the side of Y/N's neck, right over her pulse point.

Y/N made no objection or attempt to stop her, so Madison trailed kisses up her jaw and cheek. Y/N tilted her head and tried to ignore the pounding in her chest as Madison gently laid her down, placing a knee on either side of Y/N's body.

"Tell me to stop and I will," Madison whispered, but Y/N made no noise, allowing her to continue.

Madison's lips reached hers again, but this kiss was unlike the one at the party. That one had been rushed and performative, trying to stroke whatever fetish Andy and Not Andy were into. That kiss had filled Y/N's stomach with shock and confusion. This one started a fire in her chest, one that sent pinpricks of electricity down to her fingertips. Madison nipped at her top lip and ran her hands through her hair. She was gentler than Y/N expected her to be, but every once in a while she got a little tug on her hair that seemed extremely in-character for Madison.

Y/N and Madison's hands met at the fold of her towel, both of them fighting to untuck it. Soon enough it was discarded on the floor, and with it Madison's shirt. Madison immediately went to work, leaving hickeys on her chest. She came back up and pressed a kiss on Y/N's temple as her hand slowly slid in between her legs.

"Maddie," Y/N breathed, her eyes fluttering in pleasure.

Madison grinned, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Do you forgive me?"

"Yes."

Madison's lips curled into a smirk. "Good girl."

[mi-rae07]

Choi San : Guns And Diamonds (Part 1/3)

Pairing : Choi San (Ateez) and named character (Jung Sona)

__________________

A/n: This story ends on a...meh sort of note, so I will write one more part to this if people actually end up reading this (lol). 

___________________

San walked hastily into the garden area of the mansion, the party music blasting behind him as he breathed heavily, tears brimming his eyes as the sight of his wife in another man's arms ran repeatedly through his mind. Sona ran behind san, trying not to trip over her own dress or heels. She needed to explain her side, somehow. She finally found san crouched on the ground, small sniffles ringing around the place as she ran up to him and said breathlessly

Sona : San! Honey, I'm...I swear, I'm sorry. What you saw, that was just...a-a moment, it meant nothing to me-

San : stop talking.

Sona : no you need to listen, you have to, for our sake. I have only ever loved you, san. I don't ever need another man when I have you-

Sona cut herself off as san stood straight, scoffing at her words as he wiped his tear stained cheeks with shaky hands and whispered

San : such lies.

Sona : I'm saying the truth, please!

San : THEN TELL ME WHY WERE YOU KISSING HIM JUNG SONA!

Sona flinched, lowering her gaze as she said

Sona : He-he said if I didn't, he would do something-

San : and what the fuck would that be?

Sona : tell the world about our son.

San let out a shaky breath, looking away as he ran his hand through his hair. Sona held his hands in hers as she said, desperation lacing her tone

Sona : san. Please, you have to know I would never cheat on you, and our family. I could never.

San : how am I...how am I supposed to trust you, sona.

Sona frowned at that, feeling her heart tear apart at her husband's words. She had only done all that thinking san would understand and do something about it when she told him about the rival. But now it turns out, he didn't even believe her.

Sona : 13 years, san. 13 years and you still think I am capable of doing something like this?

San : because that's what I saw, sona! I saw the way you were in his arms. You looked like...like you were actually enjoying it-

Sona : BECAUSE I HAD TO! OTHERWISE HE WOULD KILL MY SON, CHOI SAN! HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL RIGHT NOW?

San : god.

Sona : why do you think we ever even had to do this in the first place, huh? It's because you're a fucking mafia! If you weren't, our son would never have had to live in such solitude and I wouldn't have had to feel like some sort of slut!

San : so this is my fault now? You agreed to all of this sona.

Sona : yeah, unfortunately.

San stared at sona, speechless. He had just seen his wife in his rival's arms a few minutes ago, kissing him as if her life depended on it. And he had thought what every person would, which caused him to run out of the building where the party was happening at, feeling like throwing up. And then sona had ran behind him, pleading him to listen as san screamed internally in frustration and anger.

He didn't know what to feel anymore, whether or not to trust sona or think that he was one at fault here.

Sona shook her head as she said

Sona : get in the car, san, I wanna go home.

Sona walked away from him towards their car a few meters away from them, trying to hold in her tears. She felt disgusted with herself, and she had thought san would understand that. But it seems not, she should have known that.

___________________________

Sona opened the door to their house, taking her heels off as she threw it away before walking up to their son's bedroom upstairs. She couldn't look at san, not without doing something wrong. She slowly opened the door to se-hun's room, smiling as she saw her son sitting in his bed, reading a book. Of course he was reading a book about spaceships and it's history, all while being only 9 years old.

Sona : sehun-ie?

Sehun : eomma!

Sehun abandoned the book and ran to his mother, jumping into her arms as he squealed in happiness. He had always been a mommy's boy, but maybe that was because san spent so less time with his son, sehun barely even knew him. Sona chuckled and lifted her son up, twirling him as she ran her hand along his smooth black hair, just as his father's was.

Sehun : eomma, you took so long.

Sona : eomma is sorry baby. I'll try to come faster next time, hmm?

Sehun : okay! You smell so nice though. You wouldn't mind if I steal one of your perfumes do you?

Sona smiled at how innocent and pure her son was, always making sure to do the right things. This was why she wanted to hide sehun's identity, she couldn't let san's world corrupt their child, not when he was only 9.

Sona : normal thieves don't ask before stealing bun-bun.

Sehun : well, I'm not a thief so there's that.

Sona : you are a thief, though?

Sehun pulled back, staring at his mother with a confused frown. Sona booped his nose and whispered cheekily

Sona : the thief who stole my heart.

Sehun groaned as sona laughed from the hits she was receiving from her son as he said

Sehun : such bad pick-up lines, eomma.

Sona : ay, come on now! We both know your mother is the best at those.

Sehun : I'll let you have it because you're my mother, no other reason.

Sona giggled and kissed sehun on the cheeks before saying

Sona : shall I sleep with you today?

Sehun eyed sona's dress and said

Sehun : with this dress?

Sona : mhmm, it's quite comfortable, you know.

Sehun : what about your make-up then, you should remove it and then sleep-

Sona : aish don't be such a grandpa, get in the bed now. I'm going to turn off the lights.

Sehun smiled and jumped from his mother's arms, plopping down on his bed as he said

Sehun : you're being very unhealthy, eomma.

Sona chuckled as she turned off the lights and said

Sona : I know bun.

Sona soon got on the bed, sehun rushing to get in between his mother's arms as he inhaled deeply. Sona smiled and ran her hands along his hair, whispering to him

Sona : you're my biggest diamond, hun-ah. I love you so much.

Sehun : that's quite a big compliment considering you own an entire chain of jewellery shops.

Sona giggled as sehun smiled and said

Sehun : I love you more than my spaceships, eomma.

Sona : wah, my life is now complete.

Sehun : not yet, you have to live a long life for me, eomma. Only then can I grow up fast and shower you with all my money and provide you with the amount of happiness that you've always given me.

Sona pressed her lips together as she felt tears fill her eyes, being grateful that the lights were off so sehun couldn't see her. He'd burn the reason of her tears if he found out, in that way he was like his father.

Sona : eomma will.

_________________________

Se-hun opened his eyes, his eyes falling on the digital clock in his bedside table, 3am. He slowly turned to look behind, his mother's face still visible to him because of the moonlight as she sighed in deep sleep. Sehun knew his mother was a deep sleeper, so even if got up, she wouldn't really know. And so sehun slowly removed her arms off him, standing up from his bed as he wore his slippers quietly.

He was only 9, but he knew it when his mom was crying. She tried to be silent, and she was, but she hadn't realized the small water droplets falling on sehun's shoulders or her change in breathing pattern. Sehun had always been very attentive. And he could only guess who caused his mother's tears.

Sehun climbed down the steps, walking into the living room as his father's back came into his view. San was still sitting in the sofa, staring into nothingness as tears continued streaming down his eyes even after hours. He felt terrible, absolutely terrible. But as soon as he recognized his son's footsteps, he wiped his tears and composed himself, turning around to face his son with confused eyes.

San : sehun-ah?

Sehun : were you the reason eomma cried?

San felt his heart drop at those words, sona never cried in front of people. And for her to have cried in front of her son.

San : she…cried?

Sehun : yes she did, appa. Do you happen to know why?

San : sehun-ah.

Sehun : I don't wanna know why, I know it's not my business. But I also don't want to see my mother sad. And if you're the problem, then you must know how to fix it as well. So then please, appa, fix it. I don't wish to see my eomma cry another time.

San clenched his hands on the sofa, feeling half ashamed of himself now. He had hurt sona to the point their son had to come down at 3am and ask him to fix it. What was he doing as a husband and as a father then?

San : sehun-ah, appa…appa is sorry. For…for not being a better father to you. I wanna try, I do-

Sehun : you don't have to, I know you have other important things.

San : son-

Sehun : you don't have to be a better father to me, appa, just be a better husband for eomma. That's all I want from you. The other things that I wanted from you have already changed, I don't really have much hope when it comes to these cases anymore.

San felt his heart tear apart, now understanding why his father had always been right. Of course he was right, san could never be a good father or a good husband to anyone. All he was good for was killing people and bringing them pain.

Sehun : you should sleep now, appa, it's not healthy for you to stay awake the entire night. Goodnight.

Sehun turned and walked away from san, his small footsteps finally fading away as he shut his bedroom door behind him. As soon as san heard that, he let his tears fall, small sobs escaping his mouth as he fell on the floor. He shut his eyes, muffling his mouth with his hands as his sobs just continued growing louder. He wanted to be better, he so desperately did. But no matter whatever he did, it never seemed to work.

________________________________________

6 years ago :

San entered his son's room with a spaceship toy in his hand, placing it next to sehun's cradle with bandaged hands. He had noticed how his son was always more interested in toys that related to space, rather than cars or guns as san had been when he was younger. And he was going to make sure sehun got every thing he wanted, even if san had to die for it.

San looked at the clock, realizing it was 3am. This was what, the 1000nth time san visited his son after he was long asleep. Ever since sehun was born, san would always come up to his bedroom at night, gazing at his son for god knows how long before returning to his wife's arms. There were days when sehun would wake up screaming and crying when he was a toddler, san turning off the baby monitor in order to not wake sona up before rushing to his son to cradle him. Nothing had given him the happiness sehun's sleeping figure gave him later.

He was his son after all, the most precious thing in his life apart from sona. When san first took this fragile being into his hands, he had promised the little being the entire world, to give him everything his own father never gave san. Everything san had done, he had done for sona and sehun. And there was nothing he wouldn't do either.

San took the 3 year old sehun in his arms, the baby nuzzling into san with a small gurgle. San smiled at his son, eyes filled with love and adoration for the person he and his wife had created. San patted his son's back softly before kissing his forehead as he whispered softly

San : my prince.

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Sona groaned as she opened her eyes, looking around as she realized that the blinds had opened slightly, letting sunlight fall right onto her face, and sehun's. sona put her hands over her son's face, blocking the sunlight as she clicked on a button that properly closed the blinds. She was about to get up from the bed when she heard sehun's voice

Sehun : the sun is actually quite good for us, you know.

Sona : you're awake?

Sehun : since two minutes.

Sona smiled as sehun sat up, rubbing his eyes as he said

Sehun : good morning, eomma.

Sona : morning bun-bun. Shall we go down for breakfast?

Sehun : ooh, it already smells nice from here.

Sona chuckled and nodded before getting up from the bed, opening the door and stepping out as sehun followed her. The both of them soon walked towards the kitchen, their eyes widening as they noticed san making pancakes with a very concentrated face.

Sehun : appa?

San turned around, smiling as he noticed his wife and son

San : morning! I made pancakes, sit down.

Sehun sighed and plopped down onto the kitchen dining table, yawning. Sona walked up to san as she said lowly

Sona : where are the maids, san?

San : I gave them a day off.

Sona : and your work?

San : I took a day off as well.

Sona blinked her eyes, confusion lacing it. San never took days off work, he basically couldn't and sona usually understood that. San nodded towards the kitchen table as he said

San : go sit, I'll bring the plates.

Sona let out a breath and sat down next to her son, smiling at sehun as san put the pancakes into the plates and placed it in front of them before saying

San : I've never cooked before, let's hope they're at least…eatable.

Sehun had a bite of the pancake, frowning as he started biting on it. Sona had some too, trying not to let out emotions. San looked at them excitedly as he asked

San : how is it?

Sehun : appa, you don't add salt to pancakes, you know.

The excitement vanished from san's eyes, his heart dropping.

San : so it's…bad then?

Sona : it's alright for a first time, I suppose.

Except that wasn't what san understood from sona's face. The pancakes just weren't good. San sighed and snatched both the plates from them, making sehun let out a noise of annoyance

Sehun : appa, what-

San : let's eat breakfast from outside then, your appa just can't cook apparently.

Sona stared as san threw the pancakes into the bin, his 3 hours of hardwork going down the drain. Sona saw the way san's eyes were droopy, sadness clearly visible in them.

Sehun : it wasn't so bad you had to actually throw them away like that.

San : I don't wanna force you both to eat something that isn't good. I'll just order something from outside, what do you want!

Sona sighed, as san picked up his phone, sehun jumping in to tell his father what he wanted.

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2 days later :

San drove his car towards their house, looking at sona who had her head rested against the passenger seat's window. She was still distant to him even after everything he tried doing. Cooking breakfasts, taking sehun and her to an amusement park san had rented, skiing, shopping, whatever he had done, sona still seemed distant. She would only sleep in sehun's room and would only talk to san about important matters. Sehun was the same as well, he still refused to talk much to his dad, except for the practical things.

San : sona-ya.

Sona : mhmm?

San : about the party a few days ago-

Sona : I don't wish to talk about it anymore, san.

San : but unless we do that, you're going to continue being so far away from me sona.

Sona : it doesn't make much difference though, does it? You still go to work before I wake up and come back after I'm asleep. We barely see each other so what does it matter if I'm distant or not.

San : but I've changed my work timings-

Sona : for what, a few days? You're going to go back to normal after a week or so san, or just watch.

San gripped the steering wheel hard as he said

San : I still need you, sona. You're still my wife, and I still love you.

Sona : those are all still just words, san. You don't really make it seem like I'm your wife.

San : so do you want us to just live like this then?

Sona : lot of married couples live this way, it doesn't really make a difference.

San : except I don't want to be like those people! We're supposed to be different, sona. I married you because I loved you and you agreed to it because you loved me. I want us to be an actual family with sehun, I don't want to pretend.

Sona : don't you still get it, san? There's no time to even pretend, none. You're not ever home, san.

San : I am now, aren't I? and I try to take the both of you to places, but you still don't seem satisfied, neither does sehun-

Sona : because you're taking us to deserted places! Places you've rented where there are no other people. Do you know? Sehun hasn't seen one single person apart from his tutor and the both of us in so fucking long, san! It's like he's…he's alone in this world. I can only do so much for him. Soon he's going to start asking why.

San bit his lips, feeling utterly helpless.

San : I'll…I'll find some way out for the both of you.

Sona scoffed as she said

Sona : no you won't. we're gonna continue living like this until all three of us crumble away, that's all that's going to happen.

________________________________

Sona entered their house, san following after her as he closed the main door behind them. Sona climbed up the stairs to go to sehun's room, leaving san alone. He had just taken off his shoes when he heard sona scream out

Sona : SEHUN! WHERE ARE YOU?

San's eyes widened as he ran up the stairs, bumping right into sona who was breathing heavily. She looked up at san with scared eyes as she said

Sona : san! San, my baby, where…where is he?

San's ears caught the small sounds coming from away, the sound of small sniffles.

San : no.

San ran to his office room, his heart beating hard against his chest as he realized that his office room had been open. He had forgotten to lock it when he left, and his files, sehun-

San paused on his tracks as sona ran further inside the room, finding her son crying against the large desk, papers and files scattered around him as he wailed. San stood right at the center of the room, watching as sona kneeled down and hugged her son who cried against his mother's chest. Sona looked at the papers around her, the gruesome pictures of the rivals san had killed and other files coming into her view. Putting that together with sehun who was crying his heart out against sona's chest, she knew he had finally found out.

Sona : god, no.

Sona felt sehun lift his head from her chest, his sobs now turning into angry sniffles as he looked at his father who was just staring at the papers blankly. Sona tried holding sehun's hand, half knowing what was going to happen next

Sona : sehun, no-

Sona cut herself off as sehun stood up, walking towards his father as he asked

Sehun : you're…a gangster?

San closed his eyes, feeling his head spin. There was nothing he could do anymore, it was too late.

Sehun : even when you were a terrible father, I thought you'd be a good human being, at least. But this? Everything we have, every single toy you've bought me, it's by the money you gained by killing people, murdering them mercilessly. And you keep pictures of them like it's some sort of…trophy.

San couldn't bring himself to defend him by saying he killed only the bad people who hurt the good ones, or that he had kept his photos for any cases in the future. He knew he didn't deserve to be defended, he was indeed a bad man.

Sehun turned to his mother as he asked, tears falling down his eyes

Sehun : eomma, how could you bring yourself to love this monster?

San pressed his lips together, trying his best not to break down crying. Sona shook her head at sehun as she whispered

Sona : sehun-

Sehun : we have to leave. Being with this man is going to kill us, either he will or one of his rivals will.

Sona felt tears brim her eyes as sehun scoffed and looked at his father

Sehun : how am I supposed to tell anyone you're my father? I myself feel ashamed of you, imagine other people then. My entire life, I kept thinking why I wasn't allowed to go out, or have any human friends. I thought it was because you were scared for me, and I found some comfort in that. But no, it's because you're afraid someone would kill me just the way you killed their son.

Sona : sehun, stop.

Sehun : I hate you, with every fiber of my being, I hate you and I wish I had never gotten a father like you. You not only bring pain to me, but also to my mother. And for that, I will hate you my entire life.

San looked at his son with tear filled eyes, his entire face red as his body practically trembled.

Sehun : because of you, neither my mother nor I can have a happy life. Because of you, we're cursed.

Sehun took off the silver ring he had always worn in his left index finger, the ring that san had given him when he turned five. The ring he had never taken off since then, always a reminder of his father. San had a matching one as well, in his left index finger. All of them knew how much that ring meant to san, and sehun taking off his, would scar san.

Sona : no, no no sehun-

Sona cut herself off with a gasp as sehun threw the ring at san, making a tear fall from san's eye as sehun said

Sehun : I am not your son anymore.

Sehun walked away from the room, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran to his bedroom. San fell on the ground, clutching his heart as sobs escaped his throat. Sona whimpered and moved closer towards san, holding his trembling hand in hers as she said

Sona : san-ah, baby please, sehun-

San : go to him.

Sona : what? No, you-

San : go to sehun, sona. He needs you now.

Sona : but you need me more.

San : it doesn't matter, I shouldn't matter. Sehun is more important, just go to him. I'll be fine.

Sona : that is not true.

San : please, go.

Sona gave san one last look before rushing out of the room, leaving san there alone on the ground. San searched for the ring sehun had thrown off with shaky hands, his blurry vision making it hard. But he finally grasped it as san held it close to his chest, sobbing in pain as he felt the edge of the ring bruise his palm from the force. But san could care less about the pain, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling right now anyway.

He had just lost his son.

_____________________________

[uglypastels]

Hogwarts idea

Can you make a fic about how Tom sneakes out at night to spend the nights in the readers room (common room/bedroom) he’s a gryffindor and she’s a ravenclaw

Maybe they have a deal with the house teacher of one of the houses. Maybe he tries to hide in her bed as so not to wake the others. Maybe they fall asleep in the common room and have a minor panic when they wake up and it’s morning. Maybe they accidentally switch clothes or one of them steal the others clothes so they walk around with the wrong colors.

love love love love this!!! and I'm sorry it took me so long, I've been in a bit of a writing slump, but this is the best request to get me out of it! thank you <3 and hope you like it. (this got a bit out of hand and I might have changed the ending a lil bit but I hope its good heh)

(gender neutral!reader, I think? at least that's what I went for but if I accidentally missed something just let me know and I'll edit, I'm dumb)

_________________

Being in your seventh year at Hogwarts, with exams just around the corner, was taking up almost every waking minute of your days. Adding the fact that you had your Head Student duties, and Tom had his Quidditch house team to take care of, meaning that you barely ever had time for each other. The only solution, in your young and smitten minds, was that some rules needed to be broken- just a little bit.

It took Tom some time to convince you since you were supposed to be setting the right example for the younger students, but eventually, one gloomy Friday morning, he finally got to you.

"C'mon, love, it will be fun," he had his arm draped around you as you tried to enjoy your breakfast, the looks of your fellow housemates never going unnoticed. There had never been a rule against students eating meals at different tables, and yet, seeing the captain of the Gryffindor team spending all his mornings and evenings at the Ravenclaw table was a strange sight. He preferred your table, he had said one day when you asked, it was quieter. That you could not disagree with. The Gryffindors were always rowdy.

"I don't know Tommy, what if we get in trouble?" you bit the inside of your cheek, as you always did when you got nervous. Tom responded by pulling you in tighter and kissing your cheek, then said:

"That's half the fun of it, darling." His words rushed an array of feelings through you. A part of you started to feel flustered, while the other wanted to shove his face in the large bowl of porridge that stood on the table.

"Please," he looked at you with his usual sad puppy-eyed look. "I feel like never get to see you, y/n. So I'll come over tonight, you can let me into the Rave tower, we'll hang out a bit and then I'll leave- like nothing ever happened. What do you think?"

"I don't know, Tommy-" You tried to keep a straight face, but it was hard to say no to a gorgeous face like his. after a few short moments of silence, you finally agreed, "fine. Be there at 10. Do not be late, Holland."

"I wouldn't dare to waste a second away from you." He kissed you, grabbed a slice of toast (from your plate, of course), and got up.

"Wait, where are you going?" You asked, confused, since breakfast wouldn't end for another 20 minutes.

"I'm kind of late for early detention with McGonagall," he chuckled before running off, toast between his teeth. You just rolled your eyes and finished your meal in peace.

You never really thought that your classes were boring, but that day, every minute seemed to go by at a quarter of its speed. It was as if someone had put a time-stopping hex on you if that even was a thing. You couldn't wait to finish your studies in the library (the scheduled hours at the library was necessary since there was still so much to get through before the NEWTs), so you could make your way back to the Great Hall for dinner. Once there, you immediately were on the lookout for the head of dark brown curls. You stood in the doorway, letting people pass you, but no luck; Tom was nowhere to be seen.

Internally, you already started cursing. It would be just your luck that he'd get attention again for the rest of the night. Why did you have to fall for the troublemaker-

"Aaah!" you shrieked as suddenly your feet were lifted from the ground. Arms wrapped around your middle, and you were spinning around. You wanted to scream more, but you heard the familiar laugh, and it immediately put you at ease.

"Put me down," you laughed. Tom complied without pretence. But his hands remained at your sides as you turned to face him. And then, eagerly, his lips met yours in a chaste kiss.

It was, of course, silly to think that you could have this moment just for yourself, in a hall filled with hundreds of students. Only a few seconds into your kiss, you could hear wolf-whistles around you. Someone, who sounded very much like Tom's friend and team co-captain Harrison, called out from afar: "Get it, Holland!" Tom was quick to put up two fingers in his direction, not paying attention to anyone. But the mood was ruined, and you pulled apart.

"Missed you today," he said softly.

"Missed you, too." You replied. His fingers slipped between yours, and like that, hand in hand, you were already making your way to the Ravenclaw table, but, unfortunately, Tom was stopped when someone tugged at the back of his robes.

"Oi, you dickhead-" but he laughed it off when he saw it was Ben, another friend and member of the Gryffindor team.

"Sorry 'bout that," Ben apologised, "but we're supposed to be holding a team meeting, remember?" He pointed over at the Gryffindor table, and, indeed, the rest of the team was huddled together at the edge of the table. Harrison had gotten up when he saw you and Tom looking, returning the gesture of the two fingers held up in the V-shape.

"Shit, I forgot." Tom brushed his fingers through his hair. He looked at you, eyes already full of regret, and you could tell he was ready to apologise, but you stopped him before he even opened his mouth.

"Don't worry, we'll talk later, yeah." You kissed him on the cheek, "remember, 10."

And miraculously, Tom did remember. As the clock in the Ravenclaw common room struck 10, you heard the faint knock at the other side of the entrance. Of course, Tom knew where and how to access the Ravenclaw tower, but the riddles that the eagle doorknocker asked were at times a bit too hard, bless him.

You pushed the door open, and there he stood. His robes were exchanged for sweatpants and a hoodie. A blue one, you noticed, not that that would help him fit in with the crowd in the common room. Tom had been team captain for the past three years, and his team had not failed to win the cup once since he had even joined the team, to begin with. Everyone in school knew him and adored him. Not even the rest of your house managed to be mad at him (though the Ravenclaw team definitely held a bit of a grudge after a few bad losses over the years).

He stepped inside, and you quickly lead him around the common room up the stairs of the dormitories.

You had heard that years ago, the stairs had a spell on them that stopped the male students from even attempting to step up to the other dormitories. Now, however, this "rule" has been dropped, ever since several students expressed their concerns for the double standards between the male and female student body, as well as the discomfort it might set up for the queer students.

Personally, you thought it would be even better if every student could have their own room, since sharing a space with four other people could get a bit crowded at times and you liked your privacy, but it was understandable that in an ancient building like Hogwarts renovations were not always an option.

Luck struck once more when you opened the door to your dormitory, and it was empty. All of your friends were still out, most likely staring at their books, in the hopes of getting struck with a moment of brilliance that could help them pass their exams. You closed the door, and Tom made himself comfortable in your bed.

It felt like the entire day had already been wasted, not to mention dinner, so you hurried down to your bed, pulling down the curtains of the four-poster, just to get that little bit of privacy you longed for at the end long day. But, of course, it was nothing unusual or suspicious since you often closed your curtains when you were too tired to chat with your roommates.

It was dark with the curtains closed, but Tom was quick to pull out his wand and murmured "lumos" the tip immediately illuminated in soft blue light. The glow was just enough for you to see his face, the goofy grin taking over his features.

"What are you laughing at?" you asked, whispering in case someone would walk in.

"Nothing," he shrugged, "just happy to be here with you."

"You're daft," you laughed.

"Yeah, about you," and with that, he kissed you. The light at the end of his want went out as he dropped between you. His lips were soft and sweet, the pudding that had been served with dinner still lingering on him. He must have stolen a few cookies from the table when it had finished, you thought, to eat later. He often did that.

You stayed like that, cuddling, stealing kisses from one another, for hours, probably. You were never quite sure because eventually, you both drifted off into a slumber. You could have probably slept like that, wrapped in his arms, forever, if it wasn't the bright light peeking through your curtains that was hitting you right in the face. And the whispers. You could hear people talking.

"I swear, they're just the cutest." It was your friend talking.

"But do they really need to do it here?" A second voice said, also familiar to you. "I mean, how many rules do you think they're breaking?"

"Oh shut!" you heard pillows being thrown. Or at least assumed that was what was happening around you. You couldn't be bothered to open your eyes, instead deciding to focus on Tom and his calm breathing. Your head was close to his chest, so you felt it rise with each inhale he took, and you could hear his heartbeat.

It was Saturday, meaning no classes. You had studied every day for the past few weeks, definitely deserving a little break for the day. If you remembered correctly, Tom wouldn't have training until the late afternoon and you could always skip breakfast. If you got hungry before tea, you could always sneak into the kitchens. After all, the two of you had already broken so many rules, what would be the harm in one more.

Ignoring the further whispers of your friends, you snuggled closer to Tom, feeling his arm wrapping tighter around you. Both of you shuffled around a bit, trying to find back the comfort from the night, and quickly you fell back to sleep.

The End

[wickedw3asleys]

Late Night Talks (blurb)

bestfriends!/platonic! Fred x Reader x George

AN: Good night everybody! I thought about this before going to sleep so I decided that since I wasn't able to post my writings for a few days I decided to give you this small blurb of bestfriends!fred and george, so i hope you'll like it!❤️

WARNINGS: nothing... kind of fluffy i guess... it's just a scene of what i imagine doing being the twins' bestfriend :3

You opened the twins' door to their bedroom and rushed into it, not even bothering to knock or say anything.

"Y/N!", George screams, covering his naked chest.

"Georgie, I have seen you in worsts attires, darling...", you sigh, jumping on his bed.

"You should quit that nasty habit of yours of entering our room without knocking first!"

"What's wrong?", asks Fred, joining you on his brother's bed.

"I can't sleep... again... and now I'm mad about it, and I know you guys are sleep deprived too, so you're keeping me company", you say, opening the book you've previously had brought with you.

George put a shirt on an sat next to you and Fred on the bed, "Give me that!", he says, aggressively taking his pillow from under you.

"Merlin, boy, you surely chose violence tonight...", you laugh.

He sighed in fake annoyance and put his pillow on your legs, just to lay his head on it and silently ask for you to caress his hair; a habit he quickly took whenever he was sad or in a bad mood, or even to just relax.

Fred laughed at his brother and slightly kicked him in the ribs, earning a whimper from him.

You loved going to their bedroom late at night when you had nightmares or you couldn't sleep at all. You knew they also had very bad sleeping habits so they are usually awake for most part of the night, unless you came to their room. The moment you get in, you start your usual late night talks and soon end up sleeping all together in one bed, as if you brought them the comfort they also brought to you to finally sleep comfortably.

"So, what's today topic?", Fred asked, stretching his full body and laying down next to you.

"I may have or may have not seen Harry snogging your sister earlier today...", you say nonchalantly, leaving the twins speechless.

"Pardon me, you WHAT?", George says, suddenly getting up from your lap.

"Huh? What?", you say as if nothing had happened.

"Oh, don't play innocent with us, you sneaky harpy!", Fred exclaims, pointing his finger at you.

"Come on! Spit it out!"

You nervously laughed at the two insisting pairs of eyes on you.

"Well... I may or may have not heard that Ginny had a slight crush on him for a few years now... And well, I suppose it was the same for Harry... So... They started dating..."

"NO! That does not give him the right to snogg her! AND DATE HER! What if she was forced?! HUH?!", George starts panicking.

"He's so dead!", Fred gets up from the bed, but got quickly interrupted by your hand firmly grabbing his arm.

"Boys, calm down! No, she was not forced and no, you're not going to kill Harry!", you say, helping Fred sit down again, "They finally talked and after your sister's big disaster with Dean, I think Harry can be good for her! So calm down!"

"B-but-", George starts objecting.

"But nothing! I truly think so...", you warmly smiled to them. You always loved the way they were so protective of Ginny, but they could get pretty dramatic sometimes... Way too dramatic.

"How long has all this been going on?!", Fred asks, his face now between his hands.

"Uhm... A few weeks... A month, perhaps..."

"A MONTH?!", Fred cries dramatically and pull his face down with his fingers.

"Come on, you're going to hurt yourself...", you take his own hands away from him.

"How come no one has told us?! Does mom know?! DOES DAD KNOW?!", George gets up, visibly frustrated.

"Yes, yes, they all know! And you're the last ones to know about it because you two are insufferable dramatic gits that would have started screaming bloody murder the second you'd see Harry even holding her hand", you firmly say.

Fred and George lower their gaze, knowing that you're right. They supposed that they were happy for her; they had been there for Ginny when she and Dean broke up, and made sure Dean would definitely remember it... But they knew Harry wasn't like him. Knowing him like they did, they were pretty sure he would be almost as protective as them of Ginny.

"Are they doing okay?", Fred asks, finally relaxing and laying down to his inicial position.

"Yeah! They look pretty happy together; of course Harry is still that awkward boy we all know, and she's good for him. And he's good for her, he knows how to treat her..."

"Yeah, he better do...", George says, laying his head on your lap again, arms crossed.

"Leave them time... It's too soon to say more anyways...", you say, caressing the boy's hair again.

"Do you think Ron will talk to Hermione too?", Fred asks.

"Ron? Why would he talk to her?", you laugh.

"You're joking, right?", George laughs too, "He's been deeply and madly in love with her for YEARS!"

"You're mad!"

"It's true!", Fred sits up again.

"Oh, yeah? And says who?"

"LITERALLY EVERYBODY!", he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air, "He drools every time he looks at her"

"Come on, you're seeing things"

"No we're not! You'll see when he finally declares himself!", George boops your nose.

"Whatever you say..", you laugh, slowly sliding down on the bed so you're laying down, never pushing away George's head from -now- your stomach.

The three of you took a deep breath, relaxing a bit more and chatting for a few more minutes, before you saw Fred being the first one to fall asleep.

"Come on, Georgie, time to sleep", you slightly slapped him on the forehead, chuckling.

"I was about to, until you interrupted me, you brat!", he gave you a slight slap back.

"Okay, shut it now", you say, slapping his forehead again.

"Y/N, I swear on Merlin's name-", he starts before getting interrupted by your fake snores, "You're unbelievable..."

He chuckled and turned on his other side, head still on your stomach and now facing you; he looked at you one last time and closed his eyes too, thinking about how lucky he was to be able to live and cheer these kind of moments with you... and his brother, of course...

[heliotropehotch]

distance - s.r. x gn!reader

Summary: idiots in love realize the truth after a bad date and some snooping through personal journals.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since I created any Spencer content so here you go! Thanks to all of you for your support on my first Aaron smut!!! Please leave any feedback or requests in my inbox I just love interacting with you guys<3

CW: jealous, unwanted sexual advances (just comments and words, a little bit of groping) idiots in love, snooping through journals, adorable fluff

Masterlist

author: author

words: 1589

happy reading!

The date was a complete bust. While they had really tried to enjoy it, it wasn’t like Y/N could ignore their rude tone, entitled attitude, and blatant disrespect for their boundaries. The guy had already tried to grope them three different times before they even got to the restaurant.

As their date progresses, John’s, or was it Jim, advances got more aggressive, making it clear to them that he only wanted one thing.

“Why don’t we just pay now and head back to my place?” His smirk curled unsettling across his face.

Y/N cleared their throat, fingers curling around the ends of their shirt in brace of the conversation. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that.”

His brows furrowed, smirk quickly dropping. “Not comfortable? Ugh, I know you’d be uptight.”

“Excuse me?”

“I agreed to go on this boring ass date, the least I can get is laid. But now you’re a fucking prude, after all this. I’m leaving.” He threw his napkin on the table before pushing his chair back loudly and brushing past the table.

For a minute, Y/N sat there shocked, staring blankly at the now empty seat across from them. They looked around, making sure that their date’s little explosion hadn’t drawn the attention of the neighboring tables. A shaky sigh left their mouth, pulling cash from their wallet and leaving well enough for both meals.

Spencer wouldn’t do this, they thought. Pain coursed through them, knowing he was the reason they agreed to this date in the first place. Spencer would be kind.

They reached for their phone, turning their car on and pulling out to get as far away from that place as possible.

“Hello?” His voice echoed through the speaker of the phone.

“Spence,” their voice was soft and saddened. “Can I come over? Please?”

“I thought you were on a date.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but wasn’t sure how well he was doing it.”

Their voice was heavy, trembling with tears caught in their throat. “He just wanted to get laid, Spence. Stormed out when I said no.”

Spencer Reid swore that he had never felt more anger than he had then. “He did what?”

“Can I just come over, please? I- I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Of course, Y/N/N,” he sighed, heart rate increasing with a new kind of panic. “Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, I’ve got my car, I’ll be there soon.” They sighed, indignant of the evening behind them. “Thank you, Spence.”

“Of course.”

---

When his best friend (and secret love interest) had arrived at his door with remnants of tears tracking down their cheeks, Spencer immediately felt guilty for even being angry at them for going on a date.

They pushed forward, wrapping their arms around his waist and burying their head in his chest. He squeezed them, rubbing small circles on their back between their shoulder blades. His heart clenched as he felt their lungs stutter with tears. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

He pulled them into his apartment, thumbs brushing excess tears off their cheeks before setting them on his couch. He darted off to the kitchen, pouring a cup of their tea he keeps handy before settling next to them on the worn letter.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He threw his arm over the back of the seat.

“He called me a ‘fucking prude.’” They sniffled into their mug. “Said I was a boring date.”

Spencer’s hand clenched at his side in anger. “You don’t deserve that.”

They shook their head, settling the warm mug down on the coffee table. “Maybe he’s right, Spence.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean every relationship I’ve been in just ends with me getting left behind because they’ve grown tired of me.”

“Y/N,” he took their hands in his, something he was only comfortable doing with a few people. “Those people didn’t understand how amazing you were, and couldn’t see what they were leaving behind.”

A weak smile was sent in his direction. “Come on, let’s distract you.”

The opening credits to Doctor Who were an oddly comforting sound as Y/N sunk further into Spencer’s couch and his side. Heart racing, as it always did when they cuddled (platonically), his arms tightened around them and prayed his heart wouldn’t pound enough to disturb them.

An episode, or two passed, he wasn’t really paying attention to the screen. Their breath had settled into a steady rhythm, both of their bodies shifting to lay on the couch. The soft pressure of the air leaving their mouth tickled the thin cloth of his t-shirt, lulling him into his own sleep.

The sunlight trickled through his curtains, awakening him to the presence that still laid on his chest. He shifted carefully, releasing them from his hold. He sighed peacefully, watching their undisturbed form continue to rest.

He shuffled quietly around the apartment, resuming his own morning routine as quietly as he could. He pulled his notebook out of his work bag, writing down his thoughts to un-jumble his mind as he sat at his kitchen counter. He left a sticky note on Y/N’s phone, letting them know he went to grab food before retreating quietly out of the apartment.

When Y/N woke up, they noticed their best friend’s absence immediately, frowning at the possibility they had made him uncomfortable. Their spine elongated as they stretched from the rough support of the couch, taking account of their surroundings and the note that was left for them.

They were used to spending nights at Spencer’s honestly. Too many late nights talking, too many sleepovers. They found their way to the shower, washing off last night’s emotions with an unexpected ease. However, they grabbed a t-shirt from Spencer’s closet, too tired to put on the fancy clothes they had on yesterday.

Y/N had yet to be by themself in Spencer’s apartment, always spending time with him whenever they were there. Yet now, they could properly look at his decor without fear that he would think there was judgement. The books that littered the apartment were the perfect amount of clutter, much like how Spencer’s mind usually seemed to be. Eventually, inevitably, their eyes found the journal.

They didn’t mean to snoop, not really. But having your name written on a journal would draw anyone’s curiosity. Y/N’s heart pounded as they read the words over and over again.

I don’t understand how anyone could treat Y/N the way that dick did last night. Why doesn’t anyone see their beauty like me? I want them to be happy, even if it’s not with me.

They missed the sound of the apartment door unlocking. Or Spencer opening the door and crossing the threshold.

“Hey I got your favorite-” He paused, eyes widening at the open journal he left on the counter.

“What are you doing?” Spencer rushed out in a panic as he closed the door to his apartment, stumbling onto the sight that caused his stomach to drop, and his grip to loosen on the pastry bag.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?”

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

“That’s not the point, Spence.”

“Y/N-”

“Spencer Reid, I have sat here for years, so hopelessly in love with you and I had to find out from a fucking open journal that you feel the same? How is that fair?”

Spencer took a step back in shock, with his hands falling aimlessly to his sides. “You love me?”

“I mean even when you liked JJ I just sat there quietly because I knew that she was more important to you, but I wanted to scream every time I caught you look at her. And don’t even get me started on the whole Emily thing because I love JJ but I swear I’ve never wanted to slap her more for hurting you that way because of course I care about you Spence, how could have not known that-”

And while Spencer had been in love with them, and the way they talked with their hands when they rambled, he needed nothing more than to shut them up. He smiled as he pressed his lips against theirs, their mumbled words fading into sighs as their kiss continued. His arms wrapped sweetly around their middle, enjoying the familiarity of his shirt of their body and pulling their body further into his. He pulled back when they couldn’t breathe, and rested his head against theirs. “I love you, too, by the way.”

“How could you not tell me?” They smiled, happy to be breathing the same air as him. He chuckled, squeezing them affectionately.

“How could you not tell me? Y/N I just picked you up from a date.”

“Well, it was only an attempt to move on.” They laughed softly, combing their fingers through his curly mop. “How long, Spence?”

“Hmm?” His eyes had drifted closed, too peaceful to move.

“How long have we been loving each other from a distance, Spencer? How long have we both been pining over something we could have had this whole time?”

“I’ve been in love with you since you walked through the door.”

They giggled, looking into Spencer’s eyes. “Who knew you were such a sap. I expect you to let me read everything about me in that journal.”

He laughed, squeezing them tightening against his chest and pecking the side of their forehead. “You wish.”

[vechkinfan]

Jack

A/n: I found this little one shot while I was looking through the deep dark depths of my google docs the other day and figured I might as well share it. Its a young Joker fic, and my fist time writing for the joker so please take it easy on me!😁

Pairing: Joker x OFC

Summary: A brief glimpse into the Jokers past, memories that he would rather keep buried, memories that reminded him of someone that held his heart. A heart that now burned for Gotham's reckoning.

Warnings: Talks of abuse, swearing, angst, vague talk of death

Jack found himself climbing the dirty, half rotten stairs of his apartment building. The light bulbs on every other floor, blown out or stolen, casting a darkness over him as he made his way up. 

His mother had one of her 'friends' as she liked to call them, over. So he made himself scarce for the afternoon, like he always managed to. Jack weaseled his way out of the apartment when those creeps were over. Especially the ones who would come right in and give him those looks. Those perverted sideways eyes when his mother was too plastered to notice any different. Looks that sent a piercing shiver across his whole body, and an uneasiness to settle in his gut.  He much preferred the men who would come over and pretended like he didn't exist. 

The sun had long since started to sink in the sky  as he climbed the stairs towards home and Jack knew he had to make it before the streetlights in the narrows started to flicker. The evil in his apartment was one thing, but the evils that lurched about once all the sunlight was extinguished in the sky was much more frightening. 

Rounding the last flight of stairs, his eyes landed on a girl  sitting at the top of them. Her back pressed against the door jam of the closest apartment door.  One foot stretched out in front of her blocking his path and the other bent, shaking vigorously on the next step down. 

She was sucking on a red popsicle, as her fingers drummed against the skin of her knee that poked free from a hole in her ratty jeans. 

Jack knew she just moved in a few months back, but he never crossed paths with her before now. However every time he opened the door to let in one of his mothers 'friends', she would be sitting at the top of those stairs. Usually a pack of playing cards in her hands, flicking them one by one, aimlessly down to the next landing. 

"What flavor is that?" Jack asked, curious at what her voice would sound like. He'd been intrigued by her presence the moment he saw her all those weeks ago. 

Pulling the half melted popsicle from her mouth, the girl turned her head slightly to gaze towards him. Her dark brown hair in a curly mess that covered half of her face, but not enough for Jack to miss the darkness of her left eye. It almost appeared black, the deep brown of her iris engulfing her pupil, giving her a truly ominous appearance. 

"Cherry." She answered, her voice nothing what he expected. It held a delicate raspiness, nowhere near the point where it matched Ms. Emerson two floors up who had been smoking 3 packs a day since the depression. There was a softness to it though, one that made Jack want to hear more from her.  "You live in the apartment cross from me don't you?" 

Nodding his head, Jack shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Sure do." 

She sat in silence after that, and he stood a few stairs below quietly staring at her. His feet shuffling against the creaky old floor board, wondering if this would be the end of their talk. Perhaps it'd be the last time they spoke at all. Jack knew the Narrows had people shuffling around from place to place, like one of them scam shell games. She very well could be gone by morning. 

 "I can bring you one next time…. If you want?" Swinging her leg around, she sat so she was facing him. Both feet planted one step down as she licked the red sugary liquid that was starting to drip down the wooden popsicle stick and onto the top of her hand. 

"I got two left in the freezer." Her voice was soft and held a nervousness that made fighting off a sly grin for Jack very difficult.  

"Yeah, I'd like that." Hustling up the stairs, Jack found himself sitting down beside her. 

His eyes getting a better glance at the girl, in the low light of the stairwell. Now he could tell she was using her hair to hide the right side of her face. Her right eye was an awful shade of purple, and the lid swollen so badly Jack knew she must be having a hard time seeing. 

As he let his eyes pan across her face, he noticed her lip that was stained with cherry popsicle was also busted open. The girl next to him seemed to have come from a similar home as himself. It was near luck that Jack hadn't gotten his ass handed to him by one of his mother friends in a while. Talking back was a habit that he couldn't quit no matter how much he was beaten for it. Not to mention the fit of laughter that usually escaped his thin lips as a belt or a fist swung in his direction didn't help either. 

"You got a name?" He asked, finally dragging his eyes back to meet her dark gaze. 

"Billy." 

Furrowing his brow and giving his head a subtle tilt, he wondered if she was fucking with him.

"That's a boy's name." He puffed out a small laugh. However the girl beside him didn't react at all. 

"I know, you don't gotta remind me." She shrugged her shoulders, before finishing off the popsicle and throwing the wood stick down the stairs. 

"It's  your nickname right?" Jack couldn't quite stop himself with the questions. Usually he kept to himself and avoided people, but she…  there was just something  different about her. Something that drew Jack in like a moth to a flame. 

He knew his interest was purely the result of her moving directly across the hall and appearing to be close to his age, if she had moved three flights up and was a little frilly girl, Jack was sure he wouldn't have even batted an eyelash in her direction as he carried on home. 

Shaking her head and rolling her eye, she was the one to laugh now. "No, my momma lost her first baby, who was a boy when he was real little. She ain't been right in the head since." Jack watched as she picked at the frayed edge of the side pocket of her faded army green vest while she spoke. "So when she found out she was having me, she just knew I was a boy. The doctors told her different, but she didn't really care what they thought. So she named me Billy." 

Shoving her hands into her vest pockets now, she quickly pulled out her deck of cards and began to shuffle them absentmindedly. 

"Billy's not a bad name, I mean there was Billy the kid that robbed banks in the old west right? Like some badass cowboy outlaw… Maybe one day I could live up to that name." Jack's eyes watched as she expertly flipped the cards against themselves, the loud noise filling the hallway. 

"Hate to break it to you, Billy the kid never robbed banks. He's just known for murdering people."

Peering up at him from the corner of her eye, her posture deflated, "Oh…." Billy sighed. 

They sat there in silence after that, Jack feeling some form of regret telling her about Billy the kid. The girl had seemed thrilled in her blissful unawareness, so happy with only a shared name that connected the two. Which was utterly ridiculous, and in any other circumstance Jack would have enjoyed watching the girls dreams come crashing down from the clouds. However it was like a small light had been snuffed inside of her and Jack hated that he caused that. Which blew his mind, cause why would he care about some girl he just met and her no good thoughts. She'd be gone in a few weeks, out of his life for good! The narrows would swallow her up just like it did the other kids, and he really shouldn't have cared. But he did on some level, and it fucking bothered him. 

"Billy where the fuck you at, you little piece of shit?" An angry voice screamed from just beyond the door she had been leaning against. The abruptness caused the girl to flinch and drop the stack of cards she was holding. 

They fell like dominos down the stairs, fluttering off in all sorts of directions. Making a fucking mess. 

Jack watched as she threw herself off the steps and down the stairs chasing after all the playing cards. "Fuck I'm gonna be in so much trouble." She muttered to herself as she frantically began the daunting task. 

Without much thought, Jack did something that surprised himself again. He stood up and grabbed a few of the cards that had fallen towards the top of the stairs. Bunching them together in his hand, before looking down at the Ace of hearts that was face up. The corner dog-eared like a well read book, from constant use probably. 

"I said where the fuck you at girl." A man ripped the door open to her apartment, and stumbled out. The stench of bad tequila filling the air almost immediately.

"I-im I'm sorry I…" Billy stuttered out as she crawled on the ground grabbing the last of the cards.  Her hands trembled bad enough that Jack could tell from where he stood that she was terrified. 

Eyeing the man cautiously, Jack saw him take a step closer to the edge of the stairs. His arm raised slightly, fingers twitching, ready to strike her hard when she finally made her way back to him. 

"Sorry, I tripped into Billy while I was coming down the steps. Made her drop her cards." Jack lied with a laugh, and held up the few in his hands. "I was just helping her pick them up." 

The drunken slob of a man, took a steadying breath, probably knowing he couldn't pummel a kid that wasn't his own. The man's overtly round face, covered in a patchy beard and a badly trimmed mustache that had the remnants of cheese puffs littered throughout it, gave Jack a nasty look. His lip turned up in pure disgust. 

"Yeah well watch where you fucking walk next time." He flicked his hand at Jack, and then turned his attention to Billy. Who was now standing up straight at the bottom of the landing, cards in hand. "You, " He pointed at her with a chubby accusatory finger, "pick up your goddamn mess and get in the house, and don't make me fucking tell you again." 

Jack watched as the man turned ungracefully on his heel and stumbled back from the pit in which he came. Slamming the door behind him with such power, some of the cracked plaster on the ceiling fell to the floor.

"You didn't have to lie." 

"I know." He heard her take a few hesitant steps up, until she was standing side by side with himself. "I ain't in the mood to watch an ass kicking at the moment." He couldn't stop the tiny laugh that escaped him at his own humorless joke. 

Tilting his head towards Billy, he finally held out the few cards that he managed to collect. She greedily took them back into her possession, and Jack watched as the girl seemed to be counting them to herself. Her fingers flipping past each number making sure they were all accounted for. 

"Thank you." Her voice was softer than anything Jack had ever heard as she finished what she was doing and tucked the cards back into her vest pocket. 

"He hit you a lot?" Jack asked aloud, as the girl pushed past him and towards her apartment door. 

Shrugging her shoulders, Billy nodded her head. "Not as much as my real dad did, so I'm lucky enough. I know some kids got it worse than me, so I'm not complaining."

"Lucky?" He quirked a brow at her choice of words. Luck was nowhere to be seen in the Narrows, especially not in that girls apartment. 

Perhaps the girl had been struck in the head so many times it actually made her dense. It wouldn't be a surprise to him if that was the case, because no one, and he meant no one, would ever call themselves lucky with the life she seemingly led. 

"You got to believe in something, right?" She smirked. "Luck seems more plausible than some god or a superhero saving me. Plus I got this." Reaching back into her pocket the girl drew out a single card, and quickly flicked it over to him.

Jack caught it and huffed an amused laugh. His eyes falling upon the joker card that belonged to her deck. The jester was skillfully juggling three knives while he balanced with one foot on a large green and purple circus ball. The character itself was off putting, his face painted white, his lips smudged with red paint  that made his maniacal grin even more pronounced. His jester hat constructed out of oddly colored rattlesnakes, multiple wrapped around one another to give its iconic shape. Their rattling tails hung as the bells at the tips. It was clearly far from the typical playing card one could get at the Bodega down the block. 

"It's my lucky card, bad things don't happen as often when I have it on me." 

Jack couldn't help but continue to stare at it. The wheels in his mind spun endlessly with hundreds of questions, but he knew he'd never have time to get them answered. She was on borrowed time as it was, and he didn't want to hold her up further. Cause if he did, the girl probably wouldn't be able to see at all next time he ran into her. The guy inside, smashing her other eye to the point it was swelled shut as well. 

Looking up into her eyes, Jack attempted to hand it back. But Billy just shook her head at him. 

"You keep it, it's the least I can do after you saved my ass. Maybe it will bring you some luck." She smiled at him before turning and opening her apartment door making her exit. 

"If you give me this, won't your luck be gone?" His words stopped her in her tracks. But all Jack could focus on was her soft laughter.

Without turning to face him, she pulled another card free from her pocket, twisting it expertly between two fingers so the face of it was in Jack's direction. An inverted match to the very card that he held in his hands. "There's always two jokers." 

Just as quick as she pulled it free, Billy shoved it back into her pocket, "See you around." She chuckled before disappearing into her apartment. Leaving Jack alone in the stairwell, staring quizzically at the place the girl once was. His lip twitching up in amusement, before he shook his head clear of their encounter. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The joker cracked an eye open as he startled awake. It was a rare occurrence in recent years that his dreams would startle him out of sleep. That was only reserved for a specific time in his life, and that was not now anymore. 

His half sleep blurred vision instantly focused on the ever growing water stain that was spreading across the ceiling tiles. It's dark brownish edges tainting the once white paint, giving the already run down room a greater sense of abandonment. 

His hand stretched out wantingly, his long fingers gripping into the cool sheets of the spot next to him. The spot that had been vacant for many years now. An emptiness that slowly consumed him in absolute sorrow, and then engulfed him in a burning rage, no one could ever put out. 

It was a pain that radiated through the Joker like a poison when his mind traveled to her. Pleading for him to remember, remember a time when things were pleasant. When she was by his side, and in his bed, places he could keep her safe. 

But he couldn't, the day Gotham took her from him was the day its reckoning started. They would all pay, every last one of them.

[agustdakasuga]

You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 9

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

What started as a sweet moment between you and the boys ended off with tears and frustration. And perhaps now, you’re back to square 1. You’re just strangers to one another. 

It was the weekend and the boys were going to come over to surprise you and take you out for lunch. But when they arrived, they stopped. You were crouched in front of the big tree that was beside your house. They moved quietly. In front of you were some fruits, alcohol and a photo. 

“Grandpa, yet another year has passed since you’ve left. How are you doing?” You whispered as you had your eyes closed, your hands clasped together in silent prayer. 

“I miss you.” The wolves all smelled the faint salty tears that fell from your eyes. Their hearts ached as they mourned with you. 

“Should we go?” V turned to his brothers. 

“We should comfort her. Maybe she doesn’t want to be alone.” Jimin said. They slowly approached you. You heard the footsteps and quickly turned around, afraid it was that predator again. 

“Oh, it’s you guys.” You quickly hid your face to wipe your tears hastily. 

“You don’t have to hide your tears from us, angel. You don’t ever have to hide your feelings from us.” RM softened. You tried your best to force a convincing smile. 

“Can we pay our respects?” Suga asked. 

“You don’t have to!” You shook your hands and head. 

“We want to.” Jungkook smiled softly and you nodded, stepping aside. They went in twos, except the youngest 3 that went together. They each kneeled down on the straw mat that you laid out, giving a deep bow and introducing themselves to your grandpa. It was a hard sight to watch as you turned away to cry softly. 

“Come here.” Seokjin wrapped an arm around you, letting you cry into your shoulder. No matter how long it has been, it still hurt. Your grandfather left a gaping hole in your heart. 

“Sorry.” You cried. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, (y/n).” He whispered, rubbing your back in a form of comfort. 

“My grandfather would have loved to meet all of you.” You smiled softly, wiping your tears with your sleeves. The boys softened, remembering that you said the exact same words to them when they were wolves. 

“I only have photos to use now when I pay respects to him. One of his last wishes was for me to scatter his ashes into the lake, where we used to have picnics together. He didn’t want me to keep him around and be reminded that he left me.” You scoffed silently. 

“Your grandfather sounds like such a great man.” J-Hope said. 

“He was. He was stubborn, for sure. But I owe him everything. My life wouldn’t be what it is now if it weren’t for him.” You looked at the photo of you and him on the ground. 

“Shall we go have a picnic by the lake then? For old times sake.” Jungkook suggested. At first, the others all sent him ridiculous looks. 

“That... sounds like a great idea.” You gave a small smile. 

“In your faces.” Jungkook smirked triumphantly. Instead of cooking elaborate dishes, the boys were happy to help you prepare simple sandwiches and cut fruit. After all, the picnic was for the remembrance of your grandfather. You all headed down to the lake, you carrying your grandfather’s photo in your hands. You sat at the same spot as always. 

“The weather is great.” Jimin took a deep breath. You nodded in agreement. As if sent in a flashback, you could see your grandfather standing by the edge with you on his shoulders as a little girl. 

The wolves could all feel what you were feeling, that great big mix of emotions. 

“Thanks for letting us tag along, (y/n).” V said softly. 

“No need to thank me. You’re my friends. And besides, my grandfather wouldn’t want me to be alone. He always mocked me for not having friends and being alone. I should be thanking you guys for following me.” You turned to them. 

“We will always be here when you need us.” RM promised and you felt a great warmth in your heart. 

The boys all ate 3 sandwiches each while you ate one, not having quite the appetite to eat. Taking your small knife, you started to cut an apple, peach and some strawberries, putting it on the communal plate. You grabbed a strawberry but before you could put it in your mouth, someone stole it. 

“Hey!” You exclaimed as Jimin chewed happily. 

“That was mine! There’s plenty more there.” You pouted, pointing to the other plate. Jimin grinned. 

“You know, I feel like I have been through this before.” You confessed with a laugh. The 7 of them stared at you, silently encouraging you to tell them about the 7 wolves that you spent time with. 

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head, turning back to the lake. They all shot you a flat look. Now, if you actually noticed and saw that, you would have definitely got the hint that these boys had some sort of connection to same 7 wolves that would send you the same flat look when they were unimpressed by you. You sighed and closed your eyes. 

“(y/n).” RM called and you hummed in reply. 

“Who are these... people that you talk about? Are they not here anymore?” He asked and the others all waited for your answer with bated breaths. 

“Well, they aren’t exactly people. Would you believe me if I told you that they were animals? Like... a pack of wolves?” You chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“There are wolves here?” Jungkook feigned ignorance. 

“We believe you. There isn’t a reason that we shouldn’t.” Suga shrugged as he popped a piece of peach into his mouth. 

“One came to me, injured and homeless. I took care of him until I met his pack. There were 7 of them, just like how there are 7 of you. After that, they were ready to return to where they came from and left. That night V found me, I swear I saw one of them.” You finally told them the truth. 

“We-”

“It was nice of you to do that. Opening up your home to wild animals. You risked your safety.” J-Hope cut Jungkook off before he could say anything recklessly. 

“I did tell them to visit me again. Maybe I’ll see them soon. I just hope they’re okay, where ever they are.” You smiled. 

“We are right here, (y/n), we’re okay. We never left your side.” They all thought fondly. 

“Let’s head back. The clouds are gathering.” Jimin said as he saw the dark clouds rolling in. All of you packed up your things and left the lake. The boys decided to invite you over for a while just to continue hanging out. You were thankful for that, not really wanting to be alone today, especially if it was going to rain soon. 

“Tea?” V offered and you nodded your head, happy to have another cup of his custom blend. 

“Hey, (y/n). Wanna go check the library out?” RM invited. You nodded excitedly and stood up, following him to the library. He showed you all the different shelves on the wall and you briefly skimmed through the titles. 

“Here it is. Take your time to read it. There’s no hurry.” RM reached up the grab the book that you intended to borrow in school when you were in the library. 

“Thank you. I’ll take care of it.” You smiled, holding the book to your chest. RM ruffled your hair. 

“Let’s go.” He opened the door and led you out. 

“It’s pouring out there. You should wait a while before you go back, it could be dangerous.” Seokjin stated. You sat on the couch and nodded, watching the rain fall and hit the glass of the sliding door. The rain was comforting but with that, it was getting cold. 

“(y/n), would you like to change into something more comfortable while you’re here? It may get cold.” Suga offered, a black hoodie and light grey sweatpants in his hands.

“You don’t have to. I just thought...” His cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“Thanks, Suga.” You took the clothes from him. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as you excused yourself to the bathroom to change. 

When you came out, the boys’ heads all shot to you. You tugged on the end of the hoodie awkwardly. The clothes looked oversized on you, which made you look cuter and the fact that you wearing one of their pack member’s clothes made your scent mix with theirs. Coughing, Jungkook stood up and walked out of the living room. 

“Is he okay?” You asked in concern. 

“He’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Jimin smiled with assurance. You nodded and placed your folded clothes into your bag. 

“Thank you for lending me your clothes.” You turned to Suga. 

“No problem.” He gave a tight smell. They were all having a mental scream fest, each one shouting at the other to calm down because they could clearly see how uncomfortable they were making you. 

“Stop staring at her, you creep!” V shouted at Jimin. 

“Well, tell Suga hyung to stop sitting as stiff as a board then! What kind of motive did you have?!” Jimin screeched. 

“Hey, I just wanted her to feel comfortable and not catch a cold. I didn’t think it would create such an effect.” Suga growled. Jungkook was the only one responsible enough to remove himself from the situation, knowing he cannot control his alpha self that well like Suga and RM yet. 

“Right, like you didn’t know.” J-Hope rolled his eyes. 

“Enough! You’re all making her uncomfortable!” Jin hissed. You blinked at the tense faces on the boys’ faces. Some looked straight up tense while the others were looking at the ground. 

“Should I change back? I’m sorry...” You stood up. 

“No!” They all reached out to try and stop you, making you jump back at their loud voices. 

“Forgive them. It has nothing to do with you. The rain does something to them.” RM smiled and you nodded your head, giggling after. The wolves all sent their pack leader a glare for making them seem like they’re crazy. 

“Let’s watch a movie.” V suggested. You nodded your head and they decided to choose a studio Ghibli movie. Jimin ran upstairs to call Jungkook down. Everything turned to the wall where the television was stuck to. You comfortably leaned on J-Hope’s shoulder as you all watched. The rest sent jealous looks, wishing they had chosen to sit there. 

It felt nice and warm, sitting with the boys and watching a movie. For some reason, whenever you did anything with them, it felt perfect and right. It was like you were with them in your own little world. 

“Guys.” J-Hope called. Everyone turned to him.

“She’s asleep.” Jungkook cooed. As if on cue, you curled into J-Hope’s body warmth even more, making the boy’s cheeks turn red. 

“Aww.” The boys melted. 

“Come on. Let’s bring her to the room to let her rest.” Seokjin said. How did they decide on which room to bring you to? Of course, a good game of rock, paper, scissors. 

“Yes!” V cheered. He lightly slipped his arms under you, taking you away from J-Hope and carrying you up the stairs. You let out a whine as your main source of heat was taken away, which V thought was absolutely adorable. He laid you on his bed, lightly putting the duvet over your frame. 

“Rest well.” He pressed a light kiss to your forehead. V had to fight the temptation to slide into bed next to you and hold you. He didn’t want to scare you off when you were getting comfortable around them. 

“No.” He gripped the doorknob until his knuckle turned white. With a deep breath, he finally left the room. 

-

Your eyes fluttered open as you yawned. Sitting up, you looked around to find yourself in an unfamiliar place. Panicked, you got out of bed but saw a picture of V and Jimin on the wall, this must be one of their rooms. You let out a sigh of relief, you were still in the boys’ home and even slept in one of their rooms. At least you weren’t kidnapped or something. 

“Wait for me!” You heard shouting and laughs. Shuffling to the window, you watched the boys all in the lawn. Jungkook and RM were talking. Well, it was RM who was talking and Jungkook nodding to his words.

“Where’s Tae?” Suga asked. 

*Who’s Tae?* You thought as you watched. V jogged out from the house, saluting to the pale boy. Suga rolled his eyes. 

“We were waiting for you.” Suga stated while V or... ‘Tae’ bowed his head in apology. Suga stepped back, away from your sight and suddenly, a white wolf jumped out onto the dirt. 

*Y-Yoongi?!* You were in shock as the white wolf shook his fur. 

“Jungkook will lead the way.” RM told the white wolf and V, who nodded their head. V removed his hoodie, making you look away from a while in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe your eyes, no, it must have been a hallucination or you were still dreaming. 

V... or ‘Tae’ shifted into a wolf... Taehyung right before your eyes, tearing the material of his pants to the ground. Jungkook finished talking to RM and did the same, shifting in the dark grey wolf that was all too familiar. 

“Kookie...” You whispered. Jungkook or ‘Kookie’ stretched his hind legs, pawing at his ears as he yawned. When he looked up, his eyes met that of yours. 

“HYUNG! (Y/N)!” Jungkook roared. Tears blurred your vision as you stepped back, tripping over the edge of the bed and falling onto the ground. You quickly collected your things and threw the door open. 

“(y/n)...” You ran into RM, Seokjin, J-Hope and Jimin just as you were going down the stairs. 

“I-I need to go.” You looked away

“Listen, (y/n). What you saw-”

“I don’t w-want to hear it. Please... I need to go home.” You cried. It broke their hearts to hear you beg them to leave their presence, so desperate to get away from them. The boys respected your decision, stepping aside for you. You hastily wore your shoes, making sure you didn’t leave anything before fleeing out the door. You ran all the way home, slamming the door behind you. 

You slid down against the door, your choked sobs escaping from your mouth. What were you supposed to feel? Betrayed? Angry? Upset? Scared? Your head started to pound.

“Werewolves aren’t real.” You pulled your hair. You managed to haul yourself to your room, curling up under the covers. 

“Grandpa, what’s going on?” You looked over at your grandfather’s photo that you had. 

Maybe it was time to not see the boys for a while. 

“What do we do?” Jimin paced up and down. This wasn’t what they planned, this wasn’t how the pack agreed they were going to tell you their secret. 

“Chim, calm down. Breathe.” Yoongi tried to stop the younger from pacing, it was making all of them dizzy but he knew Jimin couldn’t help it. All of them were freaking out and they needed to come up with something quick or they would lose their chance. 

“Whatever it is. Let’s give her some time to collect her thoughts.” Jin said. 

“But what if she decides to not talk to us anymore?” Jungkook chewed on his thumbnail nervously, his leg shaking.

“Then that’s her decision to make and we should respect it. Hyung is right, going to her now and talking to her is only going to confuse her even more. Give her some space and let her think about it.” Namjoon told the pack. 

“I mean it. No visiting her.” Namjoon growled. 

“Yes, leadernim.” They replied as Namjoon went up to his room. None of them had the appetite to eat dinner that night, staying awake the whole night. 

Taehyung stood in the yard, staring into the forest but not taking a step. He sat his butt down, just staring into the darkness before him. Jimin noticed his best friend and walked over. With a soft whimper, he tucked his head under Taehyung’s muzzle, rubbing against his cheek softly in a form of comfort. The fur near Taehyung’s eyes were wet, he had been crying. 

“What if she doesn’t accept us?” Taehyung asked. 

“She will. Like Namjoon hyung said, we just need to give her time. This is all new to her.” Jimin replied. 

“I feel her hurting.” Taehyung looked down. 

“We all do.” Jimin referred to the dull ache he felt in his chest. The two wolves just sat there, looking into the forest. A part of them wishes they would see you running back to them. 

The next morning, the boys headed down to the bus stop. They waited for you but you never showed up. Of course, they grew worried. 

“It’s the last bus. We have to go.” Namjoon called everyone and they nodded, jumping onto the bus. Even if it was the same usual silence, there was an air of sadness that surrounded them. You not riding the bus with them made things feel so different. 

“She’s here.” Jungkook could smell your scent. 

You were indeed in class already. You went early, not wanting to have to run into them and take an awkward bus ride. 

“She came early to avoid us.” Their hearts saddened at that. The thing that broke Taehyung’s heart was that you were sitting in a different seat. You didn’t even want to sit beside him or near them anymore. 

“Hello, oppa. (y/n) gave me her seat because she said she couldn’t see the board.” The girl gave Taehyung a sweet, flirtatious smile as he sat back down. 

“Go back to your seat.” Taehyung glared. The girl blinked innocently.

“But I like to sit with you.” She let out a whine, trying to act cute. Taehyung wasn’t going to entertain another annoying human girl. He slammed his palm on the table, making everyone in the class look at them. You, however, just continued to face the front, knowing that the commotion was probably because of your changed seat. 

“Don’t. Make. Me. Repeat. Myself.” He growled. 

“Take a walk, V.” Namjoon was quick to step in. Taehyung stood up harshly, storming out of the classroom. 

“I think you should change your seat.” Jimin crossed his arms and the girl immediately scurried over fearfully. She glared at you as you sighed and took your things, going back to your old seat beside Taehyung. 

The boys finally got a good look at you. Your eyes were puffy and there were slightly dark circles underneath, evident that you too, didn’t sleep a wink. 

“Alright, class.” The teacher came in and began. Taehyung came in just in time, seeing that you’re back beside him. He sat down but didn’t talk to you, respecting your need to be left alone. He clenched his fist in frustration as you did your work as if he was invisible. 

“Control yourself, Taehyung.” Yoongi warned. 

“It hurts, hyung.” Taehyung said bitterly but tried to relax a little. He didn’t want to scare you even more and drive you even further away from them. 

~~

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[watermelonlipstick]

Losing

This was written as a request for the eternally lovely @samwisethegr8​. Hope you like it, baby! Idk where the chipmunk stuff came in, I must’ve had forests on the brain or something. As always, I’d love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Losing

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3283

Summary: Losing her hair following a spell makes it challenging for the reader to feel like herself. 

Warnings: swearing, fluff, hair loss

           Dean knows better, by now, than to say anything about the beanie you straighten as you get into the backseat, giving you some soft eyebrows in the rearview mirror that are maybe worse than if he’d kept joking about it. Typical, for the spell making your hair shed like some cartoon pulling out fists in a temper tantrum to be one of the few you’d seen hang on after the casting witch died. You’d been doing research for weeks now on ways to get it back with nothing to show for your efforts except a few stomachaches from attempted potions (and one influencer-inspired collagen and ACV concoction you’d dumped out after feeling ridiculous). Sam had convinced you that getting back into the swing of things might make you feel better, and was trying a little too hard to be cheerful next to his brother in the front seat.

           “The weather’s so nice today—sometimes you forget how good the sun feels, being in the bunker for a while.” He flashes a smile over to Dean expectantly, willing him to say something encouraging too. Dean looks exasperated for a fleeting second before relenting.

           “Yeah, uh, great day for a drive.” You catch the tail end of his tiny eye roll in the rearview mirror.

           “If you guys are going to treat me like an invalid I’m out of here.”

           “Invalid? I just think it’s a nice day out,” Sam says, trying for indignancy through his put-on ignorance and not quite hitting it. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he’s able to hold onto it for about 2 seconds of eye contact before his face relaxes into more familiar kindness. “Okay, fine, sorry. I’m just happy you’re coming.”

           He’s unphased by your glare back at him, keeps up the sympathetic puppy dog eyes because he knows your snark is coming from a pit of frustration and self-consciousness. Just like Dean’s tenderness of omission in not saying anything about it today, it’s simultaneously comforting and annoying. You feel a lump forming in your throat. “Stop looking at me like that.”

           “Like what?” Sam seems a little hurt.

           “Like I’m dying or something. Both of you. I’m serious, you’re making it so much worse.”

           Dean catches your eyes in the reflection. “Kid, you just seem so fuckin’ bummed. It’s only hair, it’s probably even going to grow back.”

           “Easy for you to say, you’re not going fucking bald! So, are we going or are we doing group therapy in the driveway all day?” You can hear that you’re being too harsh but can’t muster up the energy to stop, flopping into the seatback with your jacket balled in your lap. Sam and Dean exchange a look and Dean turns the key in the ignition.

           It really is a nice day, sun streaming through the windows of the Impala and cutting the still-slightly-chilly spring air just enough to be pleasant. You make a conscious effort to let go of your indignation, counting farm houses on the way out of town as a sort of meditation. Dean starts singing along to the Deep Purple tape playing, and when he catches a glimpse of your smirk he really hams it up, banging out the drum line on the steering wheel and pulling faces that would make Billy Idol jealous. After a few bars you can’t help yourself and start to laugh, the excited accomplishment that breaks through Dean’s act to light up his eyes sending a pang right to your heart. He holds his fist up in a facsimile of an invisible microphone to Sam, who plays along. By the end of the next song the Impala is rocking like Madison Square Garden, radio up so loud you can barely hear your own thoughts as you scream-sing until you’re laughing so hard you can barely catch your breath. The music changes over the next few hours,  the volume turned down for snippets of conversation or debriefing about the upcoming case from Sam then back up for one of Dean’s favorite B-sides, and by the time the sun is going down you’re genuinely only thinking of how hungry you are while Dean turns into a diner that stands alone sharing a parking lot with a strip mall.

           Dean’s two steps toward the restaurant by the time Sam has the back door opened to offer his hand to you. He looks surprised when you don’t take it right away, standing there awkwardly for an extended beat with his palm outstretched and his head tilted like a curious dog.

           “I’m not going in.”

           Through the windshield you can see Dean stop and turn back toward the car, jamming his hands in his jacket pockets like he thinks he’ll be waiting in the chilly evening for a while. Sam wraps his fingers around the top of the door and runs his other hand through his hair. “Babe, come on, it’s just some stupid diner. No one will even notice.”

           “Sam, I’ll notice. Forget it. I’ll wait here, you guys go—grab me a sandwich or something.”

           His lips tighten into a sympathetic but frustrated line and he looks over the car to his brother, who shrugs without taking his hands out of his pockets. Loud enough that you can hear him through the windows and around the car, Dean calls out, “How’re you planning on talking to the sheriff if you won’t even walk into a diner, hot shot?”

           You match his volume. “Good point—I’m not planning on talking to the sheriff, I’m staying in the motel.”

           Sam takes a deep breath and winces. “You don’t know anyone here and we’ll never see them again. You’ve gotta eat something. Please?”

           “You’re not the fuckin’ Elephant Man, you’re a chick wearing a hat,” Dean offers loudly, absolutely not helping. Sam shoots him a look that says as much and clenches his jaw. Dean shrugs and opens his jacket with pocketed hands as if to say ‘what?’ Sam jerks his chin toward the diner and Dean nods, spinning lazily on his heel to walk in alone. When Sam moves forward, you slide over on the bench seat to allow him to sit next to you in the backseat.

           “It’s just hair.” He says, low and soothing, just above a whisper. “You’re still the same person.”

           You let your head roll back onto the seat behind you. “You don’t get it—my hair was the only pretty thing about me.”

           Sam’s face contorts in disbelief like you’ve just told him not only are unicorns real, but you have one in your duffel bag. “What?”

           “You heard me,” you repeat, training your eyes Dean through the diner window, winking at a woman in her mid-twenties whose cheeks are full and cherubic under bright, friendly eyes. You can see even from here that she bites the inside of her lip to keep from beaming back at him, holding onto his gaze for a beat longer than necessary before taking her tiny notepad back to the kitchen.

           Sam shifts to put himself more directly in your line of sight. “Baby, the pretty thing about you is you. These hands are beautiful because they’re yours, because they, I don’t know, put an extra dryer sheet in with the laundry so it smells amazing, scratch Dean’s back when he can’t fall asleep. Your eyes are the first ones I want to see every day, not only because they’re beautiful—and don’t argue with me about this for once, please—but because they’re the same ones that always seem to notice that last symbol we’re looking for after I’ve read a stupid book of runes 400 times. Your lips—” he pauses, touching your lower lip with his thumb so light it could be a feather, “—are beautiful because they’re the only ones that I can hear your voice through. Was your hair beautiful? Of course. And it’ll be beautiful again.”

           “You don’t kno—”

           He rolls his eyes. “I do know, but even if it isn’t, you’ll still be you. You can borrow mine if you want.” Sam’s eyes are so earnest, so sweet as a tiny smile tugs at his mouth, that you can’t help yourself as you lean forward and press your lips to his. The way he kisses you back is such naked affection and relief, slipping a hand around the side of your neck to cradle your jaw, that it’s hard not to believe it’s how he really feels. 

           The moment is broken when Dean opens the driver’s side, startling you enough to take a sharp intake of breath against Sam’s cheek. “Quit sucking face and look alive,” he says, nonplussed as he hooks an arm over the front seat to hand you a paper bag filled with Styrofoam boxes.

           “That was, ah, fast,” Sam replies, and it’s almost steady enough to hide the stammer.

           “3 BLTs, not like they fucking built the Great Wall. Waitress in there said there’s a motel in the next town over, 10 minute drive.” He waits until you have the bag supported with a hand on the bottom and one taking the handle from him. Sam squeezes your thigh once before slinking back into the front seat, but Dean’s eyes stay trained on you. “Touch my fries and die.”

           You manage to keep your mitts off everyone’s fries until you pull into Walnut Suites a few minutes later, thinking to yourself it sounds like some kind of hotel for squirrels and hope sort of absentmindedly it’s one of the kinds of motels that decorates to a theme; even when they’re stupid—maybe especially when they’re stupid—anything to break up the monotony of thousands of motel rooms over the years is welcome in your book. Sam coming out of the office dangling a room key attached to a plastic walnut is evidence that you might be in luck, and you grab the food as you get out of the backseat.

           Dean already has your duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “This feels light; you bring your gun?”

           You wait a second to see if he’ll figure it out himself, but Dean only raises his eyebrows and juts his chin out like you haven’t heard him. “Hardly need a blow dryer now, do I?”

           If there was more light in the parking lot you’d probably have been able to see Dean’s cheeks flush as he cleared his throat to cover. “Uh, right. Do still need a gun though, so as long as you’ve got that.” He offers Sam his bag and shuts the trunk as his little brother reaches the parked car.

           “Apparently we’re in the chipmunk room.” Sam’s going for above-it-all but he knows you secretly like this kind of shit and drops the key into your palm with a wink. “It’s the only one with queens instead of fulls.”

           “Whatever,” Dean grumbles. “I’m hungry enough I’d eat a damn chipmunk.”

           “What does that even mean?” Sam asked, annoyed in a way only a sibling can be as the brothers trail after you to the room.

           “That I’m fucking hungry, what do you think?”

           “A chipmunk is like, the smallest animal you could possibly say. It doesn’t make any sense; anyone could eat a chipmunk.”

           “You trying to chow down on a chipmunk kabob, Sammy? Aren’t you like 99% vegan now? It’s the principle of the thing.”

           Sam rolls his eyes in over the top sarcasm. “Yeah, I’m vegan now, that’s why I’m about to eat a BLT with mayo, dumbass.”

           “Bacon doesn’t count. And it’s about timing; you said chipmunk room, I said I could eat a chi—you know what, I’m not explaining this to you. You either understand comedy or you don’t.”

           As you open the door, the light from the room illuminates Sam’s bitch face kicking back on his neck. Winchester bickering had already put a smirk on your lips but the décor was everything chintzy you could’ve hoped for; forest embroidered quilts on the beds and a chain of hand-holding chipmunks that appeared to be hand painted in a waist-high border around the walls. The bed frames were made of those stripped logs that could look very chic in otherwise minimalistic Scandinavian architecture, but here they looked impossibly cute and dorky with chipmunk stuffed perched on each bedpost. Dean seems not to notice any of it at all, throwing his duffel on the bed closest to the door and snatching the bag of food out of your hand.

           The three of you eat watching Alf while sprawled on various furniture. When the half-hour flips the programming over to Mork and Mindy, you offer Dean the rest of your fries and get up to stretch your back. “Either of you dying to use the bathroom? I want a shower.”

           Both shake their heads so you grab your ditty bag and head to the reasonably sized bathroom, trying not to be startled at the large Chip and Dale portrait painted onto the back of the door that reveals itself in the mirror when you go to set your things down. It’s clean and the water pressure is good, which is far more than you can say for many similar places you’ve stayed in, and you linger in the shower longer than you need to, shaving your legs twice for an excuse to stay under the water and out from under the oppressive weight of your self-consciousness here where the boys can’t see you. Washing your remaining hair as quickly as possible and chuckling once, mirthlessly, at the lingering reflex to squirt the amount you used to need into your palm, you finally leave the shower with only momentary nausea at the amount of hair you have to grab from the drain to let the water empty. For the ever-growing list of pros and cons for shaving your head you’d been building in your head: no more shucking these sopping hairballs into tacky little wastebins across America. You wrap a towel into a turban around your head more as a reflex of propriety than anything, marveling again at the amount of rituals there are—were—around hair. Maybe being unburdened by that would be freeing. And it feels sentimental in an annoying pseudo-useless way staying attached to the hair that remains, like lingering in the victimization of this stupid spell when you could just as easily shave your head and be done with it, become some kind of Tank Girl badass version of yourself and pretend you’re too cool and tough to care about girly shit like ponytails and the way Sam held his nose to the crown of your head sometimes, took a deep inhale of you and smiled so you could feel it laid on top of your hair like a tiara more precious than any you could imagine. In any case it won’t be right now, so you throw the loose t-shirt you’d gotten from your bag over the towel on your head and slip on some athletic shorts before heading out to the room.

           You were in the shower for even longer than you thought because Dean is in his standard “just-before-sleeping-on-the-road” outfit, having lost the flannel he wore that day as well as his belt. The jeans will come off just before he gets in bed, pooled on the floor with neatly set boots beside the mattress so he can jump into them like a firefighter if he needs to, an old habit that you’d stopped making fun of the Winchesters for when it actually had come in handy a few times. Sam usually folds the jeans and sets them on top of his boots next to your bed. Dean grabs one of your hands and flips it over for inspection as you walk by. “Surprised you’re not a raisin. Going to send this county into a drought.”

           You roll your eyes good-naturedly and toss your toiletries on your bag as you head to your bed, watching Sam brush his teeth in the kitchenette sink. Dean follows with a tight handful of clean tee and boxers as Sam comes back to you, the younger Winchester grabbing the back of his collar to tug off his t-shirt and toss it on top of his bag in one fluid motion before folding back the sheets and getting in. Over your shoulder, the shower turns on and you can hear Dean humming through the door. The beanie you’d taken off was exactly where you’d left it, and you flipped your head over to take off the towel on your head and replace it with the hat as inconspicuously as possible.

           “Babe, you don’t—” Sam starts softly, stopping when he sees you turn back to him with your jaw set.

           “Can we just go to sleep?” you reply, almost succeeding at keeping the sting out of your voice. He bites his lip and nods mostly to himself, flicking the covers on your side back in invitation. You crawl in, turning your back to him partly to be wrapped up by the warm shell of his body and partly so he can’t see your face. A large hand covers your hand where it lays on your sternum, intertwining your fingers in his and pulling you back into him a touch. After a long minute of listening to the shower-dampened noise of Dean going through Skynyrd’s greatest hits, you feel Sam’s voice through the knit on your head.

           “I feel like we’re camping.”

           “What?” you ask, genuinely confused.

           “You wearing a hat to bed, you only do that when it’s freezing.”

           “I really don’t want to tal—”

           “I know you don’t, but I just…you’ve been boxing me out for weeks now. Listen, I know I don’t get it, I know it’s not the same as if it had happened to me, and I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this, but I don’t care about your hair. I mean—fuck—not like that, I care about it because I care that it’s affecting you, but I just wish I could get you to understand that nothing about the way I think of you has changed. You’re always going to be the sweet, funny, badass girl I’m beyond lucky lets me hang around. It’s like this spell took your hair but the real punishment is putting this wall up around you.”

           You take a deep breath to steady your voice and realize there’s no way you’re going to be able to talk without it cracking, instead just yanking the hat off your head and letting it fall to the ground beside Sam’s jeans. He hesitates for a second before pressing his face to you, and you can feel the smile against your scalp. It’s a struggle, but you manage not to wince when he kisses a spot you know is effectively completely bald.

           “You smell good,” he murmurs against you, and you don’t know why it’s that simple statement, after all the flowery poetic things he’s said for weeks and especially today, but there’s something about the total acceptance, no hint of the disgust you thought was inevitable no matter how hard he tried to insist wasn’t there, that melts you. It’s enough to unwrap some of the defensive prickliness you’ve built up, and the amount of emotional energy you’ve been putting into keeping it there dissolves the way it sometimes does the second your body realizes the adrenaline of a hunt is no longer needed and you crash in the backseat of the Impala. The heat from Sam’s body and the delicate sound of his heavy breathing on your neck puts you to sleep before Dean’s out of the shower.

-

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[free-pancakes]

Dreams and Nightmares

Summary: Canon-Divergence fic

Hange barely survives the final fight against Eren, and is saved by inheriting the Beast Titan from Zeke Yeager in the end. However, the Scouts soon find that this would come with a heavy price--particularly at Levi's expense.

Chapter 3/? Chapter 2 Chapter 1

crossposted to ao3 here: link

Notes: meeeeeep another chapter here ya go

CHAPTER 3

Levi paced back and forth, looking up every so often to stare out at the ocean. He came out to the shore every day this week. Living here on the outskirts of Marley had been pretty jarring, unfamiliar. But the sea was the one thing that brought him at least a little bit of solace. It used to be something quite terrifying to him, but Hange showed him that it wasn’t so bad. She really did have a way of making any situation feel at least a little brighter and a little less hopeless, he thought.

Onyankopon had urged him to relax and not to worry, assuring him that he’d look after Hange for him. Meanwhile, Armin assured him that he deserved to rest and did not need him to help out with his commander duties this week. But Levi knew he wouldn’t be able to rest or relax—how could he?

He held onto what little hope he had—Armin said that Bertholdt’s memories bothered him only a few times, and then they were gone. Maybe it would only be temporary. Levi had scared Jean into telling him a little bit about how Hange was over the past few days, and he mentioned that her biggest concern was that the memories would be enough to cause her to hurt Levi. But Armin had said that his titan shifters memories only ever affected him in his sleep, and the feelings never carried over into action. Again, it made Levi a bit hopeful.

However, his fear that Hange might never recover lingered in the back of his mind—and with that, he still kept that pact he made for himself. If his presence would continue to make her recoil and fall apart as she did that horrible morning, he would leave, so she could live happily. He sighed—he’d find out soon enough if this was the route he’d have to take.

It was just one more day. One more. And he’d find out if…

If he would ever get the chance to hold her again.

That night, Levi tossed and turned even more than usual, so he began wandering the complex in hopes that it would tire him out a bit. But, he soon found himself standing right outside Hange’s door. He stared at the doorknob and reached his hand towards it, and only then did he realize he was shaking from the nerves. Lowering his hand, Levi hung his head and sighed. Before he could walk away, he heard foot steps approach and come to a sudden stop.

“Levi?”

He turned quickly to see Hange standing at the end of the dimly lit hallway, a surprised look on her face. Levi saw her squeeze her eyes shut and grit her teeth, and watched her hands ball into tight fists.

Oh no.

“Hange, I’m sorry, I was going to wait, I swear, please. I’ll go get Jean—“

He paused to wait for an answer, but none came. Instead, Hange came running at full speed towards him, jumping straight into his arms, burying her face into his chest. Levi’s heart raced, afraid to lay a hand on her in the chance that it might frighten her again. But he stared down at her face—her eyes were still squeezed shut, but she seemed okay. He carefully wrapped his arms around her and placed his forehead on the crown of her head.

The subtle scent of coffee and lavender shampoo reached his nose, and like clockwork, Levi felt all the tension in his muscles release.

Hange.

———

Hange held Levi tightly, her mind focused on the feel of him, his rough hands gently rubbing at her back, the smell of his honey-based soap filling her with comfort. The sound of his breaths lulled her into a sense of calm. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused—and it was working!

All week, Armin and Jean had told her to simply relax and rest, but how could she?

Onyankopon shared the same opinion, but he gave in. Hange couldn’t just... lie there. Doing nothing? Preposterous. By her request, he brought her all the Marleyan books and journals he could on memory. And with that, she convinced him to sneak in Annie and Reiner behind Armin and Jean’s back—Hange was that desperate. She only had a week to make progress.

Unfortunately the literature didn’t come with too much more than what she knew already, and she was in a bit too unique of a situation—Annie and Reiner didn’t know their previous titan shifters too well, nor did they have any connection to any of their loved ones. Hange was going in with very little, but she was determined as always. Nothing would stand between her and Levi, not after surviving everything that they did up until now.

She tested different techniques for herself to help rewrite her memories over Zeke’s—essentially focusing on happy memories of Levi along with what she had seen. It was grueling work, she was emotionally wrecked every night that week facing Zeke’s fears again and again, playing it over and over, hoping it would become less menacing with each time she tried. What worked the most for her in the end was closing her eyes and focusing on one object in her hand. For example, she would hold a flower as she sprung herself into remembering Zeke’s fear, honing in on the smoothness of the stem, the softness of the petals, the sweet smell of its nectar. And it calmed her.

And with this trial, it was indeed working. She held Levi and wanted to scream with joy and relief and excitement and a multitude of other feelings she couldn’t even verbalize while hugging her beloved shorty with a clear mind, only her own.

Eventually they both fell tired, as it was the dead of night after all. Hange brought him into the room with her, and patted the bed next to her.

“Hange... are you sure you’re okay with this?” Levi wasn’t so sure this was a good idea.

But with this big victory won, Hange was quite optimistic. She was able to hug him and talk without feeling that same horrid rush of fear and pain like before. And on top of that, she hadn’t had a nightmare since. Dreamless sleep, calm and restful.

It was over, Zeke didn’t have a hold on Levi anymore, and she was grateful.

She gestured Levi to lay next to her once again. But as he put his hand on top of her, she felt a fleeting urge to pull away.

But, she was able to suppress it. She peeked at Levi—he didn’t seem to notice. So, she fit her head right into the crook of his neck, perfectly snug like a final puzzle piece being snapped into place. She focused on his breathing and the sound of his voice nagging her not to drool all over him tonight. She drifted off to sleep, a tiny smile lingering on her lips as he hugged her tight.

———

The sound of ODM gear reeled, echoing into the air. Hange was running through the thick foliage, deep inside a forest. Fear bubbled up inside her and anxiety spread like wildfire all over her skin. Loud thuds echoed through the forest as titans dropped left and right from all sides. She felt the fear increase even more, it’s like she knew only person was taking down all these titans. Oddly enough, the smell of wine also lingered in the air, and Hange wondered why that was.

Suddenly she felt blades slash at her legs, an insane amount of pain zapping through her. She fell, almost in slow motion, and saw the culprit before her eyes.

Levi descended from the trees above, his face showing nothing but determination to kill her. She felt herself wanting to reach her Beast Titan arms forward and strangle him.

——- “Four-eyes!” Levi gasped.

Hange suddenly felt herself holding down Levi under knee, one hand pushing on his throat, and one hand held in a fist in the air, blood dripping over it.

She gasped and saw Levi beneath her, his face bloodied, his eyes wide as he coughed and inhaled sharply.

Hange felt arms grip at her shoulders and pull her back, restraining her.

“Hange! Are you awake?!” Jean yelled.

Hange stared, dumbfounded, trying to make sense of what was happening. Jean figured she wasn’t going to move, and ran for help as Armin stood over Levi trying to keep a compress on his wounds.

Hange felt tears streaming down her face, and she stared down at her hands. She was trembling and her vision was still going in and out of focus. She saw the color red all over her hands, and some splattered over her shirt. She stared at Armin who stood above Levi laying in bed, asking him if he could hear him. Her eyes glazed over the floor, a smashed mug and coffee over the floorboards.

Hange slowly put everything together. But the worst part of it was, Levi easily could have overpowered her—but he probably tried to figure out a way to wake her up without hurting her. He took the beating just so she’d go unscathed.

Jean ran in with Onyankopon and they came to check on Levi while Hange slowly backed out of the room. And then, she ran.

Zeke’s memories had a stronger hold on her than she had thought—one simple dream was a enough to set her off in real life. And it was her fault. Why did she let him sleep next to her? She scolded herself, wondering why she could have been so selfish.

More tears welled up in her eyes and she ran outside, and collapsed on her hands and knees, right onto the grass. She let out a scream and cried out—her worst fear about all of this had come true.

She hurt Levi, and she’d never forgive herself for it.

[twinklelilstarkey]

Stopping You - Michael Gray [Part 4]

Words: 5.7k+ (WHY DID I MAKE THIS SO LONG!!!)

Summary: Y/N and Polly have dinner with not so liked presences.

Warnings: Consumption of Alcohol. Smoking. Mentions of Cocaine. Swearing, a lot of swearing.

Prologue   Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5

You walk in the Shelby’s betting shop with a hand over your forehead, massaging it in hopes that the pounding would go away with it.

The usual smell of cigarettes hits your lungs and you sigh while closing the front door behind you. Your heels click over the old wood and you drag your aching feet over to the table, where only some members of the Shelby family are sitting.

“Morning” You say when Polly and Arthur look up at you.

The people around the table answer you back and you walk over to Polly, who is already with a cigarette on her lips, slowly letting the smoke leave her system by her mouth. You place a kiss over her cheek and a smile grows in her face.

“How are you, my sweet?” She asks and you smile at her words.

“My head’s pounding, but other than that, ready for business” You whisper only at her and she chuckles, taking the cigarette from between her lips to take a good look at you.

You lean back to stand and walk over to where Finn is sitting, distracted with his new fancy box of cigarettes. You sit down on your usual chair while laying your hand on his neck, scratching his skin lightly with your short nails, grabbing his attention.

“How was your night?” He asks with his usual smirk, looking up at you.

“Boring after you bailed on me because of the blondie” You say with a fake harsh tone and his smirk grows into a smile.

“Is that jealousy, I hear?” He asks and you chuckle, getting Arthur’s and Polly’s attention.

“You would love if it was, wouldn’t you?” You ask, teasingly pushing him away by his shoulder and he laughs out loud.

A toothless smile grows on Polly’s face while watching you two interact and the doors from the other side of the room open, showing the people behind it: Michael and Tommy.

The memories from last night run through your mind and you look away from the younger man to stare at Polly, who looked at him with somewhat adoring eyes.

“Good morning, everyone” Tommy says while taking a cigarette out of his pocket and bringing it to his lips, brushing over them before shoving his hand in his pockets, looking for his lighter. “Michael, take a seat”

Michael does as told, adjusting his long jacket before taking his seat next to his mother, and his eyes lift over to you, making a frown grow on his face right away.

“Wasn’t this meeting family restricted?” He asks and both you and Finn stare up at him.

“Y/N has been involved with family business for over a year, she can be here” Arthur answers, not caring enough to look up at his cousin.

That is enough to make Michael shut his mouth and lean back on his chair, yet he moves his gaze towards you, noticing all the annoyance engraved in it. He, then, stares at his younger cousin and Finn’s expression is slightly more readable than yours, and it just made his presence seem more than hated around the small table.

“We’ll be hosting an event in a few days” Tommy starts, breaking your staring contest before it evolved into anything, “In 12 days to be exact. Y/N, you would be in charge of the whole organization, from the dancers to the inside of my house”

“Dancers?” You ask, lifting your glance over to Tommy.

“Oswald Mosley will be our special guest, as you know very well” He explains, “And he has his attraction for ballet dancers. I’ll give you my contacts for everything that will be necessary”

You nod at his words, already knowing the long list that will be awaiting you, from catering to setting up a team of dancers. You will have a lot to do. A lot more than you wished to.

You lose interest in the whole rest of Tommy’s speech, since you know all about it from previous conversations with him, and also that most of it is for Michael to keep up with where you’re situated, and you look around the table to study everyone’s expressions as they heard all Oswald has done or will do.

Finn is the first one to notice your disinterest in the conversation and tries to ignore it as he tries to memorize most of the information that is being dumped into this room. Michael is next: his eyes follow you as you look at Arthur for a second before looking down at your jacket, starting to play with a button attached to the fabric.

Once Tommy finishes a sentence and starts walking to some corner of the room to begin a new chapter about the day of the event, Michael is totally lost in his thoughts, noticing your now soft features from the lack of attention you’re paying to Tommy’s words.

His mind quickly takes him to where he had been fighting not to be ever since you two talked in the pub. Quite innocent memories of you two.

He studies your face in silence, noticing your slightly parted lips and his eyes drift over to your jaw, noticing a small scar, only visible from the lighting in this one particular room and the angle you’re sitting in.

The scar had come from one of your visits at a family’s home, a mother wasn’t too happy with your visit.

The lady screamed at the top of her lungs for you to leave while saying that her kids were okay, and when you just checking on her younger daughter, she slashed the side of your jaw. It was a quick move that you also flinched away when feeling it, making it smaller than the woman had intended, but it was bloody and surely a cut that would leave a scar.

The woman regrets it severely today, since you are extremely vengeful and experienced with knives.

You look up at Tommy, gaze softer than Michael expected, and you let go of the button from your, not so cheap, jacket.

Polly looks away from her nephew when he starts walking around the table and leans forward on the table to press her used cigarette on the ashtray, gathering both yours and Michael’s attention.

“And that is why we will be making our next move…” Tommy continues, not even noticing that most of the table is not even paying attention to him.

Finn lays his cheek on his fist as his elbow rests on the arm of your chair and you look over at him, taking a look at his messy hair. He must have woken up just a few minutes ago and ran over here, as usual.

Michael’s eyes shift over to Finn and stares at the way you look at the youngest in the room.

(…)

You lean back on your chair as Tommy walks out of the room to grab his ‘book’ with all the people you will need to contact. Finn had run off, to only god knows where, once the meeting was dismissed, so, now, you have to deal with the old people by yourself.

You bring your hands over your temples and start massaging them again, trying to stop the sharp pain before it got worse.

Michael and Polly look over at you for a quick second as they talk all the way back on the doorway of the shop.

“Arthur” You call, making the older man look up from the newspaper laying on the table at the centre, “What do you do to get rid of your headaches?”

“I have my ways”

You lift your head over to him with an annoyed expression.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Anything of mine can be healed by one of two things” he starts, getting Polly’s attention at the doorway, “More alcohol or snow-”

“Y/N is not doing cocaine!” Polly yells, making her voice travel throughout the whole room, making Arthur chuckle and your head pound.

You smile at them, trying not to wince in pain over the loud noise, and stare back at Polly, who is still finishing her conversation with Michael, which looks rather intense.

Tommy’s steps sound from behind you and a stack of papers is set on the table in front of you.

“Your contacts” Tommy says before clearing his throat.

You stare at the amount of phone numbers written down on the pages, all of them with the name of the person you’re intended to talk to and the name of the shop or residence.

“You can talk to Lizzie about most of the things you want to do in my home, but don’t worry too much about it” He says while taking a clean glass cup from the corner table and his bottled whiskey over to his seat.

“Alright” You say in a low voice, grabbing the stack and laying it on your lap to check if you knew some of the places.

“Y/N!” Polly calls over from the doorway, “Come with me!”

You stand up with the papers on your hand and say a quick goodbye to the oldest Shelby brothers, which you were answered with one back.

As you get to Polly and stand beside her by the front door, you notice Michael driving away in his car right as you look out.

“Let’s take care of that headache” Polly says before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the betting shop with her.

(…)

“I love you, Polly, but it’s a ‘no’ from me” You say while writing down the amount of food the shop, whose owner you just spoke to, could provide.

It has been at least 2 days since that day of the meeting on the betting shop, and you’re still working with all those phone numbers, feeling like you’ll never reach the end of the list.

“Oh, and why is that?” Polly asks, adjusting the silk robe that hugged her body, covered by a thin expensive dress.

You sigh as you scribble your way to the next number on the long list.

“Because,” You start, “I don’t want to be stuck with their presence in a restaurant”

Polly looks at you with a disapproving look, but to no avail since you didn’t even care enough to look up from the papers you’ve been working on the whole day. She walks closer to you and sits down on the couch behind you, since you’re sitting on her carpet.

“Can’t you go, for me?” She asks with a soft tone, “You can ignore them all you want, I won’t care”

You put down your pen and look over your shoulder at her.

“If it was just us, absolutely” You say, “Without a second thought” You add.

Polly takes a deep breath and looks away from you to look at the papers, now filled with words and annotations of amounts of food, flowers and other decorations.

“Is there any way that I can make you go?” She asks, helpless, “Anything I can buy you? Cook or bake for you?”

“You can’t bake, Pol” You say with a smile growing on your face.

“I have my ways” She says, welcoming your smile.

“Are you referring to buying something of the bakery next to the Garrison?” You ask, making her smile drop and her annoyed expression return to her face.

“You used to love that shop”

“And I still do” You say, “But that isn’t enough to make me go through such a horror of a night”

Polly leans back on the couch, feeling like there’s absolutely no way that she will be able to bring you with her, but still not giving up to the fullest. Her mind is still occupied with what would be so good that it would make you want to run towards that restaurant.

Finn, surprisingly, is the first ‘thing’ that came up to mind, but Polly can’t just take the youngest boy, who seems to enjoy Michael’s company as much as you, to an expensive restaurant. Finn would break something expensive or hit Michael in only the first 5 minutes, and probably even at the same time.

She takes a look at you and how you were so quick to go back to work. You drag your tired eyes over the words to check if you didn’t forget to write something down and you grab the phone to contact the next number.

“What if I talked to Tommy so you could have a day off?” Polly asks before you could start dialling the number.

You stay silent, actually considering the offer. A day off is always accepted by you… but is it a fair trade?

“Let me have Friday off and we have a deal” You say.

Polly almost gasps in excitement at your words, while at the same time almost jumps forward to hug you.

She can’t believe that the offer of the having the day off would work, you usually enjoy working, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

Finn always has his Friday’s off. How didn’t she think about this sooner?

“I’m going to start getting ready, then” Polly says excitingly with a big smile, while getting up from the couch behind you. “Try to not make us get there so late”

You smile at her words as she walks off to her bedroom and look down at the papers again.

A few more numbers wouldn’t hurt anyone, would they?

(…)

“I can’t believe we’re almost an hour late” Polly shakes her head while you two walk over to the restaurant’s door, “I told you to try to get ready quickly” She continues to scold.

You don’t react to the words much as your eyes look around the street, you were just out of Birmingham, which makes absolutely no sense why there would be a restaurant as busy as this one in the middle of nowhere.

You two step in the restaurant and your eyes almost widen at the inside.

While the outside of this place looks nothing like an expensive restaurant, the interior is just pure luxury.

Polly finishes her conversation with one of the waiters and you two start walking towards the table you were supposed to be sitting an hour ago.

Your eyes land on Michael and Gina, who are both staring at random objects around them.

“I’m so sorry for getting here so late” Polly apologizes while you stand silent behind her.

They are not getting an apology from you. No way in hell.

Their eyes lift over to you two and Gina gives a small (obviously fake) smile to Polly. The waiter puts down two other menus on the table as you move to take your seats.

Polly sits on front of Gina and you almost send her a glare as that meant that you need to sit right in front of Michael. You take off your jacket and lay it over the chair’s back before finally taking your seat.

“What took you so long?” Michael asks his mother, finally opening his mouth.

“Y/N forgot that she had to finish something for work at her office” Polly lies, giving her son a small smile.

She wouldn’t just bluntly say that you’re just a stubborn girl that enjoys seeing him in distress.

“Couldn’t she have finished it tomorrow?” Gina asks, sipping a bit of her wine.

You look up at her and give her your fakest smile.

“She is right here” You answer, making Gina look away from Polly and look at you with a rather shocked expression, “And no, it couldn’t be finished tomorrow”

“What was so urgent about that ‘something’?” Michael asks, making the three women look at him, “I’m sure Tommy wouldn’t care if you gave him anything the next day”

The urge to kick him under the table surges.

“You know how she is, Michael” Polly says with a friendly tone, “Y/N is all about being punctual at all times”

He doesn’t answer as he feels Gina’s gaze of confusion on him. How well does he know you? Was the question that replayed in Gina’s mind.

You lean back on your chair and notice Gina’s expression as if she is more than confused with Polly’s words.

Has Michael actually never said a word about you to her? You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. Michael has shown more and more how he simply runs away from his problems.

Oh, but you would pay well to see Gina’s reaction to everything you two have shared over your time as lovers.

Michael looks forward, noticing your gaze on Gina and he follows it, meeting his girlfriend’s eyes filled with confusion and slight annoyance over feeling ignored.

Polly ignores the exchange of looks between the trio and opens her menu, starting to read the name of each meal and what each one had.

“If you don’t mind me asking” Gina starts with a soft tone, “And I know that this will sound rude, but… What are you doing here?” She asks, directing her gaze towards you in the last words.

You open your mouth to talk but Polly is quick to answer for you, in fear that you would say something rude back.

“Y/N is like a daughter to me” She explains, making Gina seem even more confused about you.

“Is that since she started working for you?”

You can’t help but smile at how oblivious she is to everything, which is quite intriguing.

Poor thing probably doesn’t even know half of the truth.

“For me?” Polly asks, “For the Peaky Blinders, you mean?”

Gina nods.

“I believe you can say that” Polly says, looking towards you as if to check if you agree, but is met with your smile, making her a bit confused.

“Was that how you met Michael?” Gina asks, intrigued by the conversation, looking towards you.

Gina knew the answer. Michael had said a few days ago at dinner that when he had met you, you were too soft to be a Peaky Blinder.

She is just testing how the story connects on your ends.

“God no” Polly answers for you with a scoff.

Michael stares at the two women in front of him as if they were two bombs about to explode. How much of the truth could you spill before even ordering the food?

The answer is: a lot.

“Michael was the one that introduced her to us” Polly says with a smile as she looks over at her son, who did not smile back, only stared in silence.

“Oh really?” Gina asks, surprised, “Didn’t expect that”

Reality clicked on Polly’s mind as those words aligned with everything that has been asked until now. Her son had lied about you. You. The girl she had welcomed in her arms when he broke her. When Michael, her son, broke: You.

Now she understood your amusement to the whole situation, but she did not imitate it to the slightest. This just infuriated her to the maximum level.

“Had Michael never spoke about Y/N to you?” She asks, opening another door into this conversation.

“No” Gina answers sincerely, “Not until we all had that meeting in that pub, if I remember correctly”

At least that’s the only day he gave her actual answers. He didn’t even answer one of her questions on the day that Polly mentioned you at the train station.

“Interesting” She answers while sending a glare towards her son.

“How so?”

You pull the menu off Polly’s hands to check it while still having the malicious smile on your lips, and Michael’s eyes move over to you, noticing your amusement for the first time.

You look back at him when feeling his stare and your smile gets bigger when noticing his expression.

Michael Gray is scared. How fascinating.

“What’s wrong, Michael?” You ask, looking back down at the menu, “You look a little stressed”

Michael hears your words, letting his mind admire the way his name rolled off your tongue as it did years back, until he remembers that he needs to give you an answer.

“Nothing’s wrong”

You nod at his words and Gina ignores your small interaction to look at Polly.

“What is so wrong of Michael not telling me about Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Yeah, mom. What’s so wrong about that?” Michael asks, finally entering the conversation.

Polly sighs lightly.

“Nothing is wrong about what you did or didn’t do” Polly says, talking directly to her son, “I just find it extremely hard to believe it, as well as, highly surprising”

“Her existence just isn’t important in my conversations with Gina” He shrugs.

“You know very well that I’m not talking about her existence” Polly says with a disapproving tone, “Gina deserved to at least know something. Especially when you are coming into this place acting like you didn’t do anything wrong”

Your smile falls off your face and so does your rather amused look, it got replaced by a quite serious and broken one.

You lower your eyes to the words written on the menu and continue to act as if you were reading.

Michael bites his tongue and looks away from his mom, almost as if her words wounded him.

Both of your chests moved up and down rapidly as you let out heavy breaths, trying to get control back of your body and mind.

Your minds match the speed of how memories and thoughts passed through, making the situation worsen.

A man stands beside you, making Gina and Polly look up at him.

“What will you be having tonight?”

(…)

You turn the ring on your finger as Polly talks with the waiter about what kind of deserts they have and try to think about something more entertaining.

Gina listens to their conversation silently, since she’s interested in something sweet, while leaning her head over Michael’s shoulder.

You sigh out loud while letting go of the golden ring and scratch the back of your neck.

“I think I’m going home early” You whisper to Polly after leaning closer to her, making her stop talking to look at you.

“Are you okay?” She asks sweetly, with a concerned expression.

“Of course,” You offer a quick smile, “I’m just exhausted, and I need to work tomorrow morning”

You don’t care enough to look at the couple in front of you while getting up from your chair. You throw your long jacket over your shoulders and slide your arms into the sleeves.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” You whisper to Polly, who answers you with a tight smile.

You ignore the couple’s stare and walk off to the front door of the restaurant.

As you wish a goodnight to the workers at the front of the building, Polly sighs when realizing that you must be planning on walking home.

“Fuck” She whispers to herself.

“What?” Michael asks, noticing her concern.

“Y/N is walking home” She says while fighting her urge to roll her eyes in annoyance at herself for forgetting, “You two finish your meal, I’ll go take her home”

As Polly apologizes to the waiter and moves her chair back to stand but Michael is quicker.

“I’ll take her” He says, standing quickly, almost forgetting that Gina’s head was leaning on his shoulder, “You two eat your desserts”

Polly thanks him but as soon as she finishes the sentence, Michael was already out of the door of the restaurant with his jacket in hand.

He stares into one of the sides of the lonely and dark road and looks for you, but you are nowhere to be seen. He turns to the other side and sees you walking off while lighting a cigarette.

“Y/N!” He shouts while walking in quick pace towards you, “Wait up!”

You turn to see who is the crazy man that’s screaming at you and once you do it, you quickly wish you didn’t when you notice Michael running towards you.

“What are you doing?” You ask with the rudest tone you could pull off.

“My mom told me to take you home”

“Well, tell her that I’m grown enough to walk myself home” You scoff, “Go back inside”

He ignores your words and grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the parking lot. You scowl while looking at the back of his head and you can’t help but swear at him in your mind.

You yank your arm back as you reach the car and Michael unlocks the doors.

(…)

Three quarters into the drive you noticed you started wishing to be walking home for the 40th time. Not only was the silence between you uncomfortable enough to make you want to run away, the lack of communication was just the worst of it all.

You still feel very much affected by the beginning of your dinner, which just adds up to the built-up emotions you are hiding from him.

You wake up from your thoughts as Michael parks his car in front of your house and you are quick to try and jump out of the car right in that second.

“Thank you for not telling Gina anything” Michael says, making stop on your moves to look at him.

“What?”

“You could’ve told everything to Gina at the restaurant, but you didn’t. Thank you”

You stay still for at least one good minute and don’t say anything, until you let out a scoff while looking at him dumbfounded.

“You have some fucking nerve” You laugh while nodding, acknowledging the stupidity in his words. “I didn’t do that for you”

You open the door and jump out of the car before he could say anything.

You slam it, just to give your words a little more character, but you tense up in your steps as you hear his door opening as well.

“Oh really? Then why didn’t you tell her then?” He asks, in a loud tone over the distance already between you, “You could’ve ruined me and my relationship right there and then, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you?”

“Because!” You shout while turning around, “You don’t even deserve that from me! You can live your shit relationship filled with lies all you want, Michael, I don’t give enough of a fuck to destroy that for you”

“Seriously?” He asks, walking over to you, “Then why in the fuck did you act all affected by the sight of us together?”

“Are you serious?” You ask, again, dumbfounded by his words, “I’m not affected by your relationship! I’m affected at the mention of what you did TO ME!” You shout at the top of your lungs your last words.

The words echo through your street and Michael’s breathing heavies.

“All of this is because I left you?”

You scoff and turn to walk to your door, ignoring his steps behind you as your chin starts to shake and your eyes to water.

You’re able to unlock your door and slide in your house, but Michael’s foot stops it from closing on his face.

“We’re not done with our conversation” He says while forcing your door open.

You let go of the door, stripping your jacket as you walk to the living room and you try to get hold of your emotions as the tears try to spill over your cheeks.

“Just leave, Michael” You say with a calmer tone, while throwing the jacket to the side, to the couch’s back.

“You hate me this much because I left you?” He ignores what you preciously said.

“Yes” You say, still not looking at him, “Now, can you leave me alone?”

“No” He says, and you hear your front door finally close, meaning that he’s planning in staying for a little bit more time that you wished.

“Michael, please” You say, finally turning around.

Michael looks up at you and frowns a bit at the sight of your red watery eyes and you biting the inside of your cheek.

“Just leave me alone” You plead, this time, “I don’t care for your relationship, for what you do with your life, or what you wish to do with Gina after leaving Birmingham, just please. Leave my house”

“I’m sorry for what I did” He says, a way softer tone than before.

“You aren’t sorry”

“I am”

“No, you are not!” You scream again, making him flinch slightly, “If you were sorry, that apology would’ve been the first thing you told me when we first saw each other. But no, you just decided to rub in the scar how you moved on and got yourself a girlfriend that COULD BE FUCKING PREGNANT!”

Michael looks down at the floor and a sob leaves your mouth. You lay your hand over your mouth to hide the incoming whimpers and sobs.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you as much as I did” He admits.

“No, you didn’t” You agree, “You just wanted me to end that call and live a happy life, right?”

“Yes, actually”

“Well, sorry to inform you, Michael Gray, but that is not how love works” You say, voice cracking at the end, “And anyone with a least 2 braincells would know that”

He stays silent again, leaning over your couch’s back, eyes on the ground as if he’s thinking on what to say next.

“Just tell me one last thing. Why did you do it?” You ask, harshly wiping the tears off your cheeks.

Michael shakes his head, not knowing what to say to you. His chest aches at the sound of your words heavy with sadness and heartbreak, but he swallows the emotions away.

“I don’t know why I did it,” He admits, “It was stupid of me and I regretted it right away”

You grab something on the table beside you and throw it at him.

“STOP FUCKING LYING TO ME!” You shout as Michael ducks under the flying plate that shattered on the wall behind him.

“I am not lying!” He assures, “I am not fucking lying! It hurt me to do that to you and I wanted to call back and apologize, but-”

“But you’re too big of a coward to do it” You finish, “You don’t have the right to come to me and act like you left that conversation hurt like I did, Michael. You didn’t, and you should admit it to yourself”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t be doing this. But what I’m saying is true”

“Even if it is, Michael” You say, walking over closer to him, “That just shows how much of a coward you are. You regretted it, yet you were too big of a cunt to not call back and admit that you were wrong. Your pride was bigger than the pain you felt for what you did. And you only realize it now, almost 2 years later”

You’re right, more than right, you’re spot on, and Michael’s silence just confirmed it for you.

“You broke me to feel 5 seconds of pride of being a single independent man, to then realize that you’re no man at all” You say, mouth full of hatred and arrogance, “That is what you’re sorry about”

“No, that’s not true” He says, standing back on his feet and walking towards you.

“How come?”

“I am sorry for breaking your heart the way I did” He says, “And I am sorry for realizing it so late. I did not mean to ever do this much damage”

You don’t answer, feeling too tired to do it.

“Y/N, please!” He pleads, “God damn it, I am sorry that I did this to you! Please, at least, give us a change to talk this through and understand each other’s side”

“No”

“Pleas-”

“No, Michael! How can you even ask that?” You ask, frowning at him, “Is this all an act to you? You’re acting like I’m so special to you, yet you talked about me in that dinner as I was a simple girl that you met just before leaving for America”

“I never meant it like that”

“Fuck you, Michael. Fuck you and your ‘I didn’t mean to’’s” You say, “Do yourself a favour and leave before you let anymore shit come out of that mouth”

“Y/N-”

“What, Michael? What do you wish to say next?” You ask, almost screaming again, “Are you-”

“Just let me speak for a second!” He shouts, shutting you up, “Gina is the only person I’ve ever talked about you that way. Ever! I just told her that because I was scared of ruining my relationship with her”

“Then just leave, she isn’t here. She’s waiting for you at the restaurant. If she truly is the person that you care for the most, then leave!”

“I don’t care about her, right now” He says loudly, “I’m trying to show you that I still care for you, Y/N. Please, just let me fix this”

“It’s a little too late for that” You say before turning your back to him and walking towards the kitchen.

“Why?”

You turn back to him.

“Because YOU MOVED ON, MICHAEL!” You add, “That is what is hurting your case! How can you still continue to say that you still care for me and that you went through a lot of pain after that call, when you moved on?”

“I moved on to deal with my pain!”

“Just leave”

“Y/N-”

“Leave! Get out of my house, Michael! You have done enough damage already, don’t make it worse. Please!”

Michael shuts his mouth and nods at your words.

“Okay” He whispers.

He turns around and walks past the broken plate on the ground before opening the front door and slamming it on his way out.

You let out a loud sob and you don’t care enough to cover your mouth this time, letting your knees lose their strength and bring you down to the hard cold ground, as you cried in desperation of what just happened.

As your breathing quickens and your sobs get even more uncontrollable, you crawl your way to the house phone, dialling a very familiar number.

“Hello?” Finn’s groggy voice, probably from sleeping, sounds on your ear.

You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking.

“Can you come over?” You ask, your voice cracking at the small question and the memories it brings you, “I need you, right now”

“I’m on my way”

- - - - - - -

This ending hurt to write, ngl.

Taglist:  @ohhersheybars​ @woodland-mist​ @onlythechicagoway​ @soleil-dor​ @finn-shelbys-bulldog​ @oh-theres-a-woman​ @peakyxtommy​ @ms-reader​ @beautycinders​ @lovemissyhoneybee​ @graceedwards​ @jadesbabylon​ @marvelismylifffe​ @peakascum​ @shanetoo​ @hufflemendes​ @cherrytop02​ @http-cherries​ @burnitup​ @livingforbarnes​

If you wish to be a part of my taglist, DM me or leave a comment on this post.

[whisperlullaby]

Heaven’s Not Too Far

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Character death, mentions of cancer, angst, language, guys this is just really sad.

Words: 1467

A/N: This is literally not a happy piece. It was just inside my head and I wanted it out. It’s based on this song which is a very sad song. Please do not read this fic is any of these topics upset you. 

After a solid month in the field running a covert mission the quinjet landing at the compound was like music to your ears. Rather, it would be had you not had this incessant ringing in your ears since last week. The headache that came with it was a low throbbing just behind your eyes. 

You were met with your favorite pair of stormy blue eyes once you stepped out of the aircraft and you raced into his arms.

"Hey doll I've missed you." Bucky sighs as he squeezes you in a tight hug pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I've missed you too Buck. Don't know why they haven't had us on missions together lately." 

"The last mission you two went on together ended with 3 days of no contact because you decided to hold up in the safe house having animal sex." Sam quips causing you to burst out laughing.

"We got the intel didn't we? I thought we could use a bit of a vacation without any interruptions." You stick your tongue out at Sam as he rolls his eyes 

"Well until you both learn to keep it in your pants. No missions together." Sam saunters away leaving you and Bucky alone in the hanger.

"How have your headaches been, doll? Any better?" Bucky questions his eyes filled with concern.

"They're really persistent. Can't seem to shake this ringing either. I'm sure it's nothing that a hot shower and a good night's sleep on an actual mattress won't cure." You sigh.

Bucky places his hands on your cheeks and presses a tender kiss to your forehead. 

"I would feel better if you just saw Dr. Cho and got it looked at."

"Okay, mom." You tease. "But can I shower first? I smell like hot garbage."

Bucky laughs. "Only if I can join you."

"I would expect nothing less, Sarge." You wink and grab Bucky's hand to pull him to your room.

//////

The next day you have your appointment with Dr. Cho. She runs some scans and takes blood to do a full work up. You're waiting in the cold exam room on the crinkling paper of the check up table for Dr. Cho to return, counting the ceiling tiles. You hear a slight knock at the door before it's pushed open.

"So doc what's the prognosis." You joke before you notice the solemn expression on the doctors face.

"Y/N. I'm afraid I don't have the news you were hoping for.” Dr. Cho takes a deep breath before she continues. “Your CT scan shows a large glioblastoma, it's inoperable. I am so sorry."

The soft whir of the air conditioning and crunching of the paper underneath you is drowned out by the blood pulsing through your ears. Your mouth is sticky and dry as you try to speak.

"How long?" You squeak out, tears threatening to fall.

"About six months. Most glioblastoma patients don't survive past a year." Dr. Cho's voice wavered.

"Thank you. Um, can I go?" You ask, shuddering out a breath.

"Yes, but we will need you to book a follow up appointment so we can go over treatment options." Dr. Cho says empathetically.

“That won’t be necessary, Dr. Cho.”

You stand on shaky legs and leave the office. Once you are back in your room you sink down to the floor as silent tears stain your cheeks. You don't know how long you end up sitting there before you hear a knock at the door.

"Doll? Are you there?” Bucky’s voice came through the door concerned. “I haven't seen you since this morning before your appointment, can I come in?"

You slowly rise from the floor and click open the door handle to show a worried Bucky. Your eyes hollowly gaze over him before you fall forward into him. He catches you and cradles you into his chest walking through your room to settle you on the couch.

"You're scaring me. What happened?" Bucky's voice came out harsher than he intended. 

You gulped dryly. "Dr. Cho said, I'm, she said that I, um, I have a glioblastoma and that there's only 6 months at most." 

You choke back a sob and look over Bucky. His eyes wet with tears.

"What treatment options are there? What about surgery? There has to be something, some cutting edge treatment we can do, Stark has to have something, for God's sake." Bucky is frantically screaming, raking his hands through his hair.

"Inoperable. And….. I don't want the treatment. I don't want my last days to be a shell of a person." You grab Bucky's hands and hold them to your face. "I want to spend every day waking up with you. Being alive with you." 

"No. You can't just sit here and resign yourself to death. We're going to figure it out. I am not losing you. Not when it feels like I just found you." Bucky's tears were falling freely as you stroke his knuckles.

"Oh Bucky, there isn't anything we can do. Please. Just, be with me. Love me. Stay with me." You pull his palm to your lips and press a kiss before he pulls you in, deepening the kiss with desperation.

"You are my world. I'm going to be lost without you." A sob escapes his throat.

"My love there will be no place you could go that I wouldn't be with you."

Bucky pulls you onto his lap and holds you close for the rest of the night.

/////

2 months later

"Doll let me get that, why don't you go sit down." Bucky grabs the bowl of popcorn out of your hands and ushers you over to the couch.

"Thanks Buck." You place a quick kiss on his cheek before you stumble towards the couch. "I'm feeling a bit woozy today.”

You plop down on the couch as Bucky settles next to you. You easily take your spot tucked into his side listening to his heartbeat as he draws circles on your arm. The movie Bucky picked drones on as you feel your eyelids grow heavy. 

“Hey Buck?” You start unable to keep your eyes open. “When I die I’m going to visit you as a dragonfly, so just know wherever you are, anytime you see one it’s me saying hello.”

Bucky stops drawing circles on your arm and pulls you closer to him. “Are you feeling okay doll? I can go get Dr. Cho.”

“No Buck, just really tired. Please stay with me? Hey do you remember the first time you kissed me?” You gave a weak smile.

Bucky let out a shaky sigh “Yeah, you wouldn’t stop laughing at one of those dogs who kept sliding on the ice. I swear that laugh is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.”

You chuckled. “Yeah you just grabbed my face mid laugh and kissed me.”

“I’d kiss you forever if I could.” Bucky laughs humorlessly.

Your breathing starts to sound shallow and short. “Heaven’s not too far away Buck. You’ll visit me one day and we can kiss as much as you want.”

You feel hot tears fall on your face as Bucky presses a kiss to the crown of your head, then the tip of your nose, and finally a lingering kiss to your lips.

“I am going to be so lost without you. You have made my life so full, I don’t know who I would be without you.” Bucky whispers.

“You would be the same man I fell in love with, Buck. You are strong. We’ll meet again. I’m just gonna sleep for a bit. I'm so tired.”

Bucky held you tight as your breathing waned. When he couldn’t feel your lungs fill with air or hear your heartbeat, he called for FRIDAY to alert the medical team all the while rocking you and whispering his love for you in your ears.

////

A few days later

Bucky planned your funeral. He made sure all of your favorite flowers were lining the casket hoping you were looking down on him smiling because he remembered. 

“I miss her Steve.” Bucky remarks as Steve approaches him.

“I know Buck. She was a wonderful person, loved you for who you are and I am grateful to her for it.” Steve states somberly.

Bucky chuckles humorlessly. “I get to live more than one lifetime. It’s not fair that hers got cut short. I would give anything to have her back.”

Steve pats Bucky’s shoulder letting his hand linger. Bucky looks back at Steve with sorrow in his eyes. Then, he notices something land on Steve’s shoulder, a bright blue dragonfly and he smiles.

“I know she’s here though Stevie. Watching me. I’m going to be the man she wants me to be, then when it’s time, I’ll see her again.”

[novasintheroom]

Ooooo a fresh blog! Heyo there! So, my first request is some head canons, if you write them anyway, for the each of the turtles having a s/o who is usually the purest of beans. Like— she doesn’t get angry, usually shy when meeting new people, very humble, sweet and caring— but for the first time she does it’s like she realizes she’s frustrated and mad about something that happened during the day and it’s the first time she’s expressing it. the turtles notice her come in knowing something is off about her behavior when she’s usually so cheerful. Almost like “Sometimes it just makes me so— it makes me so... so...! Angry!” But she actually gets super surprised with herself realizing she’s actually venting just to say she’s fine in the end after bottling up for so long. The turtles just looking at her and asking if she’s okay 😂 If that makes any sense.. sorry if it doesn’t.

Oooooo my first ask!! I’m so nervous and excited! I think I got the gist of what you’re getting at. Thanks for sending this in, it means a lot to me! <3

Leo

·         Honestly caught off guard when you come in steaming

·         Your calm and sweetness is something he loves and looks forward to – it’s hard being the firm leader in his family when everyone pushes back, so you’re a pleasant break from the arguments and sassy remarks

·         Not today

·         It’s loud in the lair – Raph and Mikey are doing something with a basketball and hula hoop that’s got Raph raging and Mikey screaming, Donnie’s got a power tool going on the truck, and Splinter’s Celine Dion music is blaring to drown it all out while he works on pruning his plants

·         Leo’s up in the concrete rafters with a book, glancing down every other minute to make sure Raph doesn’t kill Mikey

·         He would have completely missed you coming in if Mikey hadn’t thrown the ball toward the entrance

·         You dodge the ball before it hits you, but instead of laughing it off like usual, you throw a dark look at his brothers and beeline toward the dojo.

·         Woah, that’s weird

·         Avoidance of his family = big red flag

·         You didn’t even say hi to him??

·         Hops down and follows, waving off Mikey’s calls to you

·         Finds you in the corner of the dojo, bag thrown to the side and hands smoothing out the sand of his small zen garden

·         Feels a bit awkward honestly

·         Listen, he’s getting better at it, but he’s not the best at feelings

·         Especially girl feelings

·         He knows something’s up though, and he wouldn’t be a good beau if he just let you simmer

·         Spooks you when he asks if you’re okay

·         Darn those ninja skills, how is someone as big as him so silent?

·         You sigh and just say you had a fight with your roommate and that it’s fine, you just needed some quiet before you went to his family

·         Okay, coolcoolcool. He can work with this. He and Raph fight all the time! “What was the fight about?”

·         Cue explosion

·         “She doesn’t pay her part of the bills on time, and she has her boyfriend over constantly and I can hear them through the walls when they’re screwing because the stupid cheap apartment has stupid cheap thin walls, and she leaves her dishes everywhere even when I ask her to not be a slob, and the landlord is getting after me for her rent when– “

·         W o w

·         He didn’t think you knew any swear words, but the names you’re calling your roommate would make even Raph blush

·         Your rant goes on and on

·         Anytime he tries to suggest a solution you get angry at him like why can’t he just listen omg

·         He shuts up quick

·         Somewhere in the process he sat down and your head moved to his lap while you laid all your problems out

·         By the time you’re finished your chest is heaving and it’s been an hour

·         Leo’s scared to say something in case you go off again lmao

·         He just plays with your hair and hums while you calm down

·         Finally you look at him with wide eyes, “Wow, geez, I didn’t think I was that mad.”

·         He can’t help but laugh, “Me neither.”

·         Your smile is back, though, and that’s the best thing he’s seen all day

·         “You feeling better now?”

·         You say yes, and give him a good hug and kiss as thanks for his patience

·         He asks you to come to him if things start building up again

·         Seriously, start talking to him – I don’t think the poor guy can handle another explosion like that lol

 Raph

·         Raph knows anger

·         Does he know how to deal with it? Ehhh that’s hit-and-miss

·         But he knows it

·         So seeing your tense shoulders, clenched fists, grinding teeth when you walk in – he knows you’re angry

·         It’s a bit off-putting tbh – you’re the calm to his rage, the quiet touch to wind him down when something gets under his skin

·         What happened to make his quiet girl so mad?

·         Did someone say something about your family?

·         Or something about your outfit?

·         Did a skeevy guy try to touch you?

·         Did someone try to kiss you?

·         Okay, now he’s getting mad

·         Decides to take a page from Splinter’s book and pulls you aside to talk

·         “What’s the matter?”

·         You pull at your sleeves, looking anywhere but him

·         You just mumble you’re fine, and that you’re hungry and try to move to the kitchen

·         Nuh-uh, that don’t work with him

·         Catches you by the arm and gives you a look, “Somethin’s bothering you, and you’re gonna tell me what it is.”

·         “And what if I don’t wanna talk about it?”

·         “Tough luck.”

·         Your glare could curdle milk, but you don’t say anything

·         Alright, you wanna play it that way? He’s got three brothers he grew up with; he can get it out of you.

·         Hauls you up and tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and takes you to his workout station

·         Ignores your screams of outrage and the beating fists on his shell

·         They’re like little kitten paw pats; he can’t help but smile at how small you really are

·         When he sets you down in front of a world-weary punching bag, he crosses his arms and waits

·         You’re red faced and snarling. “What are you doing?”

·         He raises a fist, and gives the bag a good punch – “That’s for when Mikey backwashed into my water bottle today.” He throws another punch, “And that’s for Donnie’s stupid snorts waking me up last night,” and another, “and now I’m back on Mikey’s backwash!”

·         He stops the bag’s swaying and gestures for you to take a turn

·         Realization dawns in your eyes. You look at your fist and throw a pathetic punch at it. “That’s…for my fifth plant…dying this week?”

·         He almost laughs, but nods encouragement

·         You punch again. “That’s for whoever stole my lunch out of the fridge at work.”

·         And again. “And for those kids who spit on that homeless guy!”

·         And again. “And for Gina’s face when she made fun of my teeth!”

·         Punch after punch, you let out your anger and frustrations that boiled over today

·         Raph’s impressed – not just with how much crap happened to you, but how long you held it in

·         You’re a lot stronger than he gave you credit for

·         He’s also a bit freaked at seeing the rage in your eyes

·         Is that what others see when he comes at them?

·         Yeesh

·         You feel a lot better after the session, if sheepish for letting so much anger show

·         But he brushes it off, “Hey, you see how I am. It don’t bother me none, sweetheart.”

·         He pinches your butt for good measure as you walk back to the lair and laughs when you punch him in the arm

 Donnie

·         The one that takes the longest to realize something’s up

·         He can’t help it! He’s busy making sure his family is safe and hidden! He’s gotta keep the firewall up-to-date from all the new viruses being put out, check the perimeter lasers so that no one sneaks up on them, change the oil in the Turtle Tank, and why is the computer sparking over here, he needs to ask Raph or Leo to come with him to get new parts at the junkyard, but if he –

·         Bumps into you and is like ‘oh. how’d you get in here’

·         Delighted to see you though! It’s like all his worries suddenly vanished when he realized ‘oh yeah! I have a girlfriend!’ and that’s you!

·         Missed you a lot since it’s been a few days since you could visit

·         Starts showing you all of the progress he’s made on certain things, asks you how school’s going, how was that group project you had, did you get that interview for work?

·         It’s your clipped and short answers that finally makes him take a step back and really see how you’re doing

·         You’ve always been enthusiastic about his inventions, even if you don’t completely understand every technical thing he talks about. He thought you guys were past the awkward conversations too.

·         Clipped answers are a big no-no – it makes him shrink inside, like his words and ideas don’t matter

·         Takes a few seconds to look you over – awkward seconds, ones where you look down and away and not at him

·         “Are you alright? Did…something happen?”

·         You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, but then the words just start pouring out: “I’m sorry, it’s just, I can’t stop thinking about how my supervisors treated me the past few days. They scheduled me to work a triple shift! Without asking me! And I told them I had a date with you, and a million other things to do, but – “

·         You lay it out for him, apologizing every other minute for just putting this on him out of the blue, that you tried really hard to be happy coming to the lair but your boss just text you that you have another shift tonight instead of getting to hang out with Donnie, and –

·         Donnie sits you both down in a couple of chairs, his hands holding your own as you keep talking and venting

·         Rubs circles into your palm, eyes never straying from your own watery and frustrated ones

·         A breath out of the nose is the end to your rant, and you lean to put your head on his shoulder. “I just hate when people spring things on me! I just wanna stay with you and hand you tools to work on stuff.”

·         His heart warms at this, even if he’s sad at how sucky your job is

·         And it gives him an idea

·         He manages to hack into your work’s scheduling system and put your supervisors or fellow employees in your place for the night

·         Even sends out a text masked as your head boss to whoever he put, letting them know they’re on the job and that you had an emergency

·         You’re torn on this – those people had things they had to do too

·         But Donnie reassures you: “If they’re as bad as you say, then getting more people mad at them might just make them change. If not, we at least get to have our date night, right?”

·         Well, when you put it that way…

·         He gets a big, long smooch for pulling it off and for listening to you

Mikey

·         Listen, this boy is intuitive when it comes to emotions.

·         He kinda has to be with the type of older brothers he has lmao

·         Instantly knows something’s up by the sound of your feet coming down the tunnels – heavy, like you want to stomp them but don’t know how

·         He’s geared up though – his baby girl’s coming!

·         Hops off the couch and has the biggest grin for you when you walk in

·         Doesn’t even falter when he sees the glower on your face

·         Says something stupid to test the waters – “Woah, babe, I’m gonna have to call the cops – I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to be as fine as you are!”

·         Not even a smirk.

·         Okay okay. Obvi you’re not in a happy mood.

·         Man, he was hoping for a little blush at least!

·         Takes that heavy bag off your shoulders you’ve been lugging around all day and corrals you back to the couch

·         Grabs some sodas and a few chocolate bars from his hidden stash in the kitchen

·         He knows you need it more than him right now

·         Sits down and calls out to the lair that “we’re making out on the couch!!” Def keeps his family from coming in and interrupting lol

·         Isn’t even phased when you explode about your day – your coworker had it out for you, your professor told the whole class that your paper was what not to do if you wanted a good grade, etc. etc.

·         Mikey accents your day with “No!” and “He didn’t!” and “What a jerk!”

·         It’s cathartic to hear someone agree with you like that

·         He takes you in his arms when the frustrated tears start falling and you start to wind down

·         “It just makes me so angry, and I hate feeling embarrassed and…”

·         Rubs circles on your back to help calm you, just like his family did to him growing up

·         After a minute you’re better, and back to your sweet, happy self, if still a bit stuffy from the tears and snot

·         You’re surprised and apologize for your emotions, but he stops you

·         “Hey, everyone has their bad days! Sometimes you just gotta let it out, y’know?”

·         You give him a big kiss for being so sweet

·         Makes the day a lot better after that with the soda and candy and some video games

·         He’s a good turt <3

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Feral Fatality

(Part 1)

So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part

Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

-

Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.

Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.

One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.

Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.

-

The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.

The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.

This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.

Nothing but a white lie.

An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.

You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.

She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.

That wasn't the only reason though.

Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.

(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.

You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.

If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.

You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.

Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.

You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.

Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.

"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"

"You got to be kidding me."

"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."

Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.

You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.

You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.

Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.

You wanted to be left alone.

To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.

That's why you agreed to go in the first place.

You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.

Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.

So you gave up.

Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.

There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.

And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.

You also knew about him.

Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.

And other, important things.

You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.

You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.

Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?

Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.

In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.

You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.

Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.

There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.

Perfect.

You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.

Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.

A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...

Wait, is that what you think it is?

Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.

Blueberries.

Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.

Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.

You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.

You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.

-

The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.

You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.

Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.

You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.

So you did.

You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.

You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.

—

—

Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.

His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—

The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.

A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.

He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.

They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.

All but one.

Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...

Adoration?

You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.

Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?

The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—

Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.

His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.

Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...

For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.

Oh, his plants.

He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.

Cute.

You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.

Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.

Let's see what you'll do before that happens.

-

Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.

What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.

Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!

He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.

A swift end. Now he waits.

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Dad!AU)

Summary: Ransom Drysdale, a man who didn’t make wise decisions in his teens. Wasting three years of his life in jail, he takes his freedom for another two. Little did he know, a woman he long ago had a thing for, ends up leaving him with a 16-year-old for the holidays. Hazel Rose Drysdale. His daughter.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

This takes place after Knives Out. Family will be mentioned, there will be minor spoilers for Knives Out.

Warnings: Bad parenting, swearing, Ransom being an asshole, minor spoilers for Knives Out, angst, mentions of murder/jail, minor mental abuse, mentions of abortion/pregnancy, Mentions of suicide

I do not consent to have my work hosted on any second party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

There’s a Hamilton reference in here and I couldn’t help but throw it in there.

You always thought San Francisco was a horrible place to be on your own for. Having a job there, you’d be an hour late if you lived outside the city. This year had been tough on you. You felt like your rent was going up or that your job was getting lower paychecks. Your head was spinning every day that you could barely answer anyone’s questions. The lack of sleep you get every night, especially having to wake up every day at six. 

You fix yourself a coffee but then end up at a nearby Starbucks to grab one. They always had better coffee for your energy gain. You weren’t really a money maker, you drove a very old red Honda. You have bills coming in through the mail slot that it has you wanting to burn them to ashes. You couldn’t handle enough stress, especially having a 16-year-old daughter.

At that age that’s when you had your only precious little girl, Hazel. You always made sure she never met any boy that could have her end up like you long ago. Being a teen mom wasn’t easy. Even lying to your daughter was something you couldn’t bear to keep from. It was only to protect her.

Hazel never spoke once about who her father was. As a child, she had dolls and those dolls were a family. One mother, one daughter and a father. Hazel made them the happiest dolls in her mind. She never asked anything related to her family’s relations or where they lived.

She was home schooled since, you were too afraid to have her at school and be bullied by boys or girls. It was something you dealt with and you didn’t want that to happen to her. You didn’t have the money for her too. Gas money, bills, dinner and rent were your only priorities. To have a roof over Hazel’s head, to drive her to the library or stores to get new outfits, feed her every morning, afternoon and night. Like you said, it wasn’t easy.

Your parents live up in Oregon for a while now and you would sometimes visit them over the holidays. Their reactions to your pregnancy, it didn’t end well. The few weeks of being pregnant, they were disappointed. The father’s side of the family had been one of the most entitled families in town. You grew up in Massachusetts and when you got pregnant, your parents moved to Oregon after you had Hazel. 

And Hazel’s father abandoned you. Being 17 and 16, you were the one scared while he watched you in disgust and asked to abort your child. That decision was one of the hardest decisions of your life. Either live with the pain of delivering your baby girl or painfully lay on your bed thinking you could’ve had a good life with your daughter.

And you did have a good life whether you struggled to keep her happy. You hope no boy or man could ruin her reputation and lose hope in the world to make someone happy. “Miss L/N.” The dark velvet voice made you lose your trance and your eyes darted over to your boss. Or someone who is your guide for three years. 

Mr. Charles Leyman. His blonde hair was combed to the side, his piercing blue eyes could have any office women get lost in. His suits were always made fine by a professional and his watches always came in different colors. Surely, they were over a thousand dollars. Charles had been your guide since you joined the large business in San Francisco. He was very kind, charming and he always knew personal space. 

He always had a circle around him and it’d smell like his expensive cologne. Out of the cologne you’ve known, this one smelled like Guilty Intense. The Italian lemon, patchouli, amber, mandarin, and orange flower topping aroma was always attracting women. You wondered if he was a mama’s boy just on how much of a gentleman he was.

You saw his side grin creep up to his face, “You must be preoccupied in your own mind palace,” He mentioned towards you. Your hand reaches up to the small strand of hair and you pull it back. “Sorry.” Charles folds his hands in each other and leans on his desk. The man was in his thirties, a couple more years older than you. 

“You know, you don’t always have to apologize for everything you do that is no harm. I just didn’t want you to be stuck in your head, Miss L/N.” Your head lifts up to him. He softly grins, “I wanted to discuss your recent report on the Berkeley College. Something about the Science and Technology Event on October 28th.”

You gently tilted your head, “What about it?” Charles lifted the print of the page and scanned through as if he wasn’t sure himself what the problem was. He clicks his tongue, “You kind of repeated yourself in a couple paragraphs. Even spelling errors. Have you been using-”

You nod, eyes closing slowly out of embarrassment, “Yes, I was. But I think our internet was shut off due to th-”

“That forum doesn’t need the internet to correct your mistakes. It corrects off Wi-Fi.” You sighed softly, turning your gaze away from him and he lowers the paper down to look at you, solemnly. “Look, Miss L/N. I’m not here to criticize you, I’m here to help you. And I know you have a 16-year-old at home and the father’s passing, you-”

“I will say this once and I hope you take it as it is. I’m fine.” Charles leans back a little to your response. Watching you closely to see your hands fidget in your lap. He almost felt like a brother to you, but there were moments where he offered you to dinner and almost walked you over to your car. It was embarrassing to see him and his silver Audi. You were sure he had a Tesla. The invites to his home were always nice. Charles knew your daughter well.

They got along well and never heard a single bad thing from Hazel, saying she had a good time with Charles. Hazel always told you how much fun she had with anything, she walks over to the public library, tells you about a book she read. You know she went to the library when she texted you earlier this morning.

That day, you relaxed at your desk and looked over the recent drafts of your future reports to go on the papers. You feel your phone ring and your hand picks it up from the desk. 

Incoming call from Hazel-Bear

You picked up the phone and held it up to your ear, “Hey, baby.” 

“Hey, mom. Can you pick me up?” You look over to the wall with the clock, showing the time. You were only a few ways away. “Can you wait for 10 minutes?” You hear Hazel hum in a yes, “Yeah. I’m just sitting in the library.” You began to close your computer and logged off. “Okay, honey. I’ll text you when I get there.” You started to put your papers in your bag and slipped in your laptop. “Okay. Bye, mom! Love you.”

“Love you, too. I’ll see you.”

Hazel was always the type to listen. As a child, she wasn’t spoiled as much because of what you had as a teenager. You were glad she didn’t end up like her father. She was sweet. Her smiles always made everyone welcomed in her space. Gatherings and meetings, your co-workers and friends always chatted about your daughter. Hazel would always keep a conversation lit up and she’d make every interesting comment. Being a book-worm, she would go on and on like a Stephen King book or become William Shakespeare and her words were strong.

You’d do anything for her, no matter what. Picking her up at the library was always a doing for you. The distance wasn’t long but you enjoyed picking her up there. 

You pull up to the front of the library and see your daughter come up to the side of the door and jump in. “Thank you, mom,” She says, you greet her with a smile and watch her hold a book in her hand. “You’re welcome, honey. Did you return Hesse?”

Hazel nods and looks over to you, “Yeah. And I found this interesting book called Vulcan’s Den. Everyone’s been reading the author’s books since he died 5 years ago.” You glance over to her, seeing her eyes read the story in her hands. She looked like she was through 10 chapters already. “Hm. Who’s the author?”

“Harlan Thrombey.”

Your face froze into a fit of shock. Your fists twist around the wheel and Hazel spoke the whole time but then realized you had been temporarily deaf. “...he committed suicide.”

You look up to see the red light and you step on the break causing the car to jerk forward a bit. Your eyes lower to your hands on the wheel, “What, sweetheart?” Hazel turns and gently closes her book. “I said, he was found dead in his home. Committed suicide.” Hazel turns back to her book with a grin. “He was a really good author. I’ve been thinking about writing stories, too! He always knew how to make crime and mysteries such a good genre.”

Your eyes stare in front like you just ran over someone but all you could do is nod and say, “That’s... tragic, sweetheart. I’m sure he would’ve loved to hear your stories.” And your way back home was silent for the next 10 minutes. The only name coming to flood your mind like a banshee. Screaming internally, your  heart felt like pin needles were jabbing into it and your breathing somewhat became more quite. As if you died in your seat but your mind kept going on.

Harlan Thrombey.

A man who writes like he’s running out of time.

That night, you had just made dinner and sat in the small living room watching television as usual. Glancing over to the kitchen sharing with the dining room, you see Hazel at the table, eating and reading the book she got today. You  couldn’t help but grin at her read the book with such concentration. 

You turn your gaze over to the TV but you didn’t pay mind to it. The sounds of your neighbors playing music or their dogs barking above you. Hazel closes her book and sighs softly. “Oh mom?” She asks, you turn to her, raising your brows up. “Hm?”

Her hand rests on the table as she turns her body towards you, “There’s this musical coming into Oakland in December and I was thinking we can get tickets? I don’t know if you’re familiar with Hamilton.” You tried not to give Hazel the look of ‘I’m sorry’, you just stared at her blankly, trying to sound less of a bad mother. Sure the tickets were a bit over 50 dollars. You couldn’t even nod as you sighed, “We’ll see, sweetheart.”

Hazel turns away and picks up her book to head over to her room and you tried not to think about Harlan.

Yes, he was familiar to you. A famous author who published hundreds of books based on mysteries and murder. You weren’t there when Harlan was killed. But you knew someone at work who actually wrote the report about him. Police finding out about not only his suicide but his oldest grandchild was in jail for murder and arson. 

You didn’t know much but you’ve read the report so many times. Harlan was a good author and you were happy to see your daughter read a book from someone who was related to her. Hazel never knew much about her father’s side of the family. You tried your best to keep her silent about it and she never asked once. 

You remembered you had things that could make her brighten up. You stood up from your spot and made your way into your bedroom. You walked over to your closet and turned on the light to look up. Seeing a dark box written ‘Books’ on the side, you reach up and slid it off the edge and into your arms. You placed it on your bed and reached in for the book collection with Harlan’s name printed on every book.

You opened one and saw a small message written in cursive with his name at the end. Harlan always gave you the first copy and made sure you gotten them. His books made it into films and he gave you the movies and that’s where these old films laid in. Hazel will like to watch these over and over. “Ro, baby,” You call out.

You hear her call back and made her search around the apartment and met you in the bedroom. You turned and sat on the edge of your bed. “You love books, right?” You asked. Hazel nods questionably, “Yeah?” You placed your hand on the edge of the box, “These are special and old. It might not sound real to you but these are all first copies.” Hazel makes her way over and slightly gasps.

“They’re... Harlan books?” She pulls them out and opens the first book, “And he signed them!” Hazel looks up to you with a smile. Shockingly, it made you smile, “I want you to take care of these really good for me, okay? You can take them to your room and read them.” Hazel slams herself into your chest and hugs you tightly.

“Thank you, mom.”

You wrap your arms around her and held her there, placing a kiss on her head. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” Hazel wasted no time into bringing the books into her room. Her eyes scanned every letter written in the books by the author, himself. He kept calling you, sweetheart. Hazel wondered if you knew him really well. You collected every book from him and they were all first copies. The films were never used and they were amazing. Hazel began to pull each of them out on her bed and reached for the last book that was wider than the others.

Hazel lifts it up and sees the cute designs.

Memories.

Hazel turns around to sit on her bed as her fingers graze over the small stickers that were worn out. She read your name on the front of the cover and flipped the page over. Photos of her grandparents, your mom and dad taking you out to the lake. A couple pictures of you reading books. Your 15th birthday photo was very old and you looked just like her. Hazel flipped the next pages and the photos gotten bigger. And the months grew further on.

Pictures of you in a dress. Your junior year in a blue silk dress, your hair was perfectly done with a bit of makeup. Hazel had not seen you so beautiful with makeup on. With a small grin, she flips the page and there’s a photo of you again at what looked like your prom dance. Her grin slowly freezes when she sees someone stand next to you with a small grin.

His hair was slick back, his tuxedo was a matching blue and his bow tie was black. His jaw was sharp enough to cut paper. Hazel knew you had her at the age of 16, the date takes back a few months before your birthday. Hazel had to think he was someone you were with. A picture of carved initials with a heart around them.

The ‘R’ was carved along with your initial and in between your initials was a plus sign. Hazel grew more into the photos and kept going over the pages. The next photos never had the boy in the photos any more. But you had your hands on your stomach with a grin. You had to be about one month pregnant. But the boy you had in the other photos never appeared in these.

Then you happened to be in Oregon. You said you were born in Oregon and lived there since you were born. Where were you before? Hazel flipped a couple more and her photos came into view. Her baby pictures were old and very nicely situated. Hazel grins softly at the photos and opened the last page to have things slip out.

Hazel catches the piece of paper and small patch from a high school logo. She looks over the patch that must’ve came from a private school. She flipped it over and read it.

Hugh D. MA, Boston

Hazel furrowed her brows at the name. Hugh must’ve been a different boy you dated. She reaches for the paper that was partially ripped in half and placed the two together like a puzzle.

Ransom (xxx) xxx - xxxx

She read the letter and saw the added heart to his name. Ransom. Who was Ransom and Hugh? 

“Honey! Did you want to finish your show?” You called out to Hazel. The teenager puts the things back in the book and puts it back in the box. “Uh... Yeah! I’m coming!” And she covered it up with the others and made her way out of her room into the living room. Hazel couldn’t help but think about who her dad was. 

The next morning, you made breakfast and Hazel began to eat what you’ve made. Bacon, eggs and some toast. You poured her some juice and began to clean up your mess on the counter and placed a couple dishes into the dish washer. The sounds of Hazel’s utensils scrapping against the plate, she glanced up at you and saw your calm content face doing normal chores. 

“Who’s my dad?” 

You drop a plate from your hands and it falls into the sink once again and shatters in pieces causing Hazel to painfully watch and you turn to her. It was bound to happen, but you didn’t expect it this soon. You did you?  “What?” 

Hazel nibbles on her bottom lip and gently puts her fork down and pulls her hand to her lap. “I... I want to know who dad was.” You cross your arms and reached to grab your grin and rub the sides. Hazel lowers her gaze, “I saw two names in this photo book. Hugh and Ransom. I want to know who they were. And did my father actually die in an accident?”

It was like your worst fear and the countless nightmares were coming to life. Hazel sat there for answers now. You needed to give her small details in order for her to freak out less. You never wanted to upset Hazel. Just like you didn’t want to upset her father when you first told him the news.

“But I knew Harlan very well. I met him as a kid and he gave almost every first copy of his books. I knew him because I met his oldest grandson at the age of 15. His name was Hugh.”

“So is Ransom my biological father? And Hugh was just-” Hazel noticed the shook of your head, your lips pierced together as if you tried not to spill everything towards her. The fear to see her get scared of the truth. “Those names are from one person, sweetheart. He was complicated between his first and middle name. Hugh Ransom Drysdale. He was just a year older than me.” Hazel turns her head and whispers.

“Hazel Rose Drysdale.”

You hum in response, furrowing your brows. “Is he alive?” She asked, you instantly stand up, pushing yourself off the counter, “Honey, please. Finish eating.”

“I want to know, mom. Don’t I get to say anything about him-?”

“Hazel, please. Eat your food, I’m not in the mood now to discuss your family relations-”

“You’ve lied and I need to know what else you’ve been keeping away from me.” You turn away from her and finished off the last Tupperware and sighed. It was gonna take a while for her to lose the thoughts to go away and have her continue on something else. “Mom-”

“Hazel, please! I can’t discuss this now!” You snapped. Hazel’s fingers curl into her palm and she fidgeted her thumb under them. Her feet kick herself back and she stood up. “Thank you for dinner,” she muttered, leaving her plate on the table while making her way into her room. You sighed out of regret and turned to the window. 

You couldn’t tell if Hazel was crying or playing music to calm herself. You never outburst on her like that. Never in your days you’d shout at her. The mention of her father had to come out sooner or later. The truth never made its way over to you. Hazel wasn’t ready to find out. You weren’t ready to give it to her. Maybe never.

You just cleaned up her plate and put the leftovers in the fridge in case she wanted more since she barely ate thinking too much about her father. 

You got a shower going and left the house, leaving a note on Hazel’s door. Your drive to work was a bit long but you managed to get there in time. Taking the elevator to the office floor, you set up your stuff on your desk and began to go through your recent reports.

Checking every wording and errors you can spot.

A soft knock hits your wall and a woman peaks over. Your office neighbor. “Morning, babes. How you doing?” 

You let out a soft sigh, “Morning, Ciara.” Your fingers worked against the keyboard, writing away till someone takes your chair and spun you around. The red-head lightly glares in your eyes. You turn your head, “What?” You asked, Ciara squints her eyes. “What happened?” She replies with the same questionable tone. All you did was shake your head and Ciara pouts at you. She was never going to let you get away that easily.

.

“She knows about her dad?”

You nod towards her, raising your mug up to your lips to regain your energy. Ciara pinches her chin to be in a thinking stance and her brows bounce up, “Well, shit.” You look over to her and she lightly laughs. “What am I going to do?” You ask.

Ciara thinks, “Well... I don’t think you can keep her away forever.”

“What do you mean?” You ask once more, Ciara tilts her head at you and that made your heart drop. “No. No! I cannot do that-” Ciara drops her arms from the crossing and sighs. “Y/N, you really messed up the pooch here. If my mom lied about my dad being dead, I would’ve wanted to meet him.”

“You don’t know what he’s like,” You said, “He’s arrogant. A complete asshole-”

“Okay! Okay... but your daughter would have to at least get to know him. Give her a few days. Weeks. Who knows? Maybe he’ll come around. Hazel needs a father figure in her life and every kid would want to have their parents together.” You shook your head softly and raised your glass back up to your lips and took a large sip. 

You wouldn’t trust Ransom being with Hazel for who knows how long. You couldn’t trust yourself to stay a day there. You wouldn’t last a minute to be in the same room with him. But you thought about Hazel. You felt more selfish for yourself than for Hazel. You had your dad but she never got to see him once. You kept him under a rock that Hazel couldn’t lift up and now she found his photo. 

She found you and him together. 

There can’t be a way to change her mind. Unless she stays with him. The holidays were coming up. Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away. Maybe you’d give her that much time with him. Ciara’s face leans down to look at you in the eye. For some kind of response for her to agree or to push. 

Your mug lowers from your face and you two just shared looks.

.

That day, you made your way back home after your work was finished. You felt like you swallowed bees. You didn’t bother to text Hazel you were coming home or that you were going to talk to her. You just needed to be home right away to talk to her. To tell her everything.

You were afraid to give her everything about him. You needed to take it slow every now and then. 

The moment you stepped into your apartment you dropped your bag and opened Hazel’s bedroom, seeing her on her bed with her laptop on her lap. “Hey, mom,” She says.

You grin softly, “Can I talk to you?” Hazel did not refuse and she watches you sit on the edge of her bed. Hazel knew this certain stance of a parent. “I know this morning was not my morning. But... I want you to know that I love you very much. And that I did not mean to yell. But I am willing... to tell you about your father. He didn’t die in an accident.”

Hazel closes her laptop and gently pulls her knees to cross in front of her. You did it yourself, crossing your leg over the other. “What do you want to know?” You ask in a calm voice. Hazel lowers her gaze to think about the millions of questions already scrambling through her head like a roller coaster. 

She finally caught one, “What was dad like?” She says, shyly. This was the question you didn’t want to hear from her. But you had to anyway, “He was... difficult to work with in school. His family was rich and so anything he could do wouldn’t be a problem. He was kind in some moments, I remembered his father always fought with him.”

“Did he leave when... you were?”

Hazel noticed your soft nod and your head lowers, picking at your nails like you were a little girl again. How much you blushed when he came toward you like you saw him for the first time. The way he pulled a strand behind your ear. He never complimented much nor did he say ‘I love you’. 

“We were around your age when I found out about you. After I told him, his parents flipped. And after a few days, he yelled and left. That’s when I moved to Oregon with your grandma and grandpa.” You reach for her hair and pushed it behind her ear. Just like he did to you.

Your hand rests on the sheets and you softly sighed. Regretting these words slip out like a load of cash falling out of an ATM. “If I trust you... to call me everyday, every night. I might consider something.”

“Consider what?” She asks, you don’t respond to her and that made her eyes slowly go wide. “To visit him?” You take her hand and gently grasped it. “I am sending you to Boston.”

“You can’t come?” She asked. You shook your head and reached up for her cheek. “I think it’s best to stay here and keep going to work. I have a project and I hate to leave you, but I really want you to call me. I love hearing your voice.” Hazel grins and nods. “Thank you, mom.”

You smile at her and pulled her to your chest. Placing a kiss on her forehead, you trusted her more now. The least of trust was from her father. The most scary thing to do was to call him. Hazel pulls away and she slips something into your hand. “What’s this?” You asked.

You opened the small note and read the similar number with his name written nicely in. “In case you didn’t have it.” You held the paper tight in your hand and turned to Hazel one last time before standing up. “Dinner will be ready in a couple minutes.” Hazel nods and went back to her own things as you left her room and went into yours.

You pulled out your phone and stared at the keypad. His number sitting on the paper, urging you to not call. 16 years apart, you never thought it’d come to this day. His daughter to stay with him for a while. What if he was still in jail? He could be with another woman and it’d be too late for Hazel to be with a man who’s married to another woman.

It’d be awkward.

Your thumb automatically pushes the numbers and your thumb hovers over the call button. Your breath began to get caught in your throat. Your eyes began to water and your fingers shook. You clicked the button and heard it buzz in your ear.

The ring went off.

You waited.

It rung again.

You swallowed hard. “Hello?”

“Hugh.”

“Who is this?”

“It’s me.”

“Who?”

“Y/N.”

There was a long pause. 

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[jamilelucato]

Best Teacher, Part 3 || Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: y/N is a pureblood Slytherin best friends with Harry Potter, but not yet that close to the Weasleys until she’s invited to spend Christmas with them.

PART 1 || PART 2

A/N: It’s the last chapter, hope you’re all just excited as I am. I must say, it would have been better if I had published it on Christmas but I just couldn’t wait. So, if you want my advice, reread it on Christmas.

*gif below actually mine and I'm so proud

The first thing you realised when you got out of the bathroom was that you had the wrong wand. At first sight, you had no idea why or how. It was only when you kept on thinking that you remembered when you could have swapped it.

The night before had been... well, interesting, to say the least. You could still feel Fred's touch, even if it had passed hours. Heck! You had showered and you still could smell his perfume on you! 

To any help, once you finally managed to quiet your thoughts and sleep, he was there, visiting you in your dreams, just to kiss you again.

You were not complaining, though. Yeah, yeah, you had a resting bitch face when you got downstairs, which caused Ginny to ask you if anything was wrong.

"Slept on my wrong side, I guess" you answered, short and sharp.

She looked at you like she couldn't recognize the girl in front of her, and, to be fair, neither could you. You tended to be grumpy, especially in the morning, but never that grumpy.

It didn't make sense. You had just been kissed like you had been waiting your whole life to, and now you walked around acting terrible.

The Weasley Twins were not yet on the breakfast table. The boys — all of the boys in the house — were late for breakfast, that was their mom's complaint in the morning.

"I just know they are up to something, I know they are" she finished, seeing you and Ginny walk in. "Good morning, girls".

You tried faking a smile, but it felt too hard so you gave up. Mrs Weasley didn't even notice, going back to the stove, not waiting for a reply. You sat right next to Ginny, avoiding the chair where you were happy to sit one day ago.

"Where are the boys?" Ginny asked. You were not able to conclude if she meant all her brothers or just the twins, but you were curious just like her.

"Percy's in the bathroom" Mr Weasley answered, not showing his face because of the newspaper he held. "Ron and Harry overslept, I suppose."

You started madding up, desperately wanting to know the explanation for Fred and George's disappearance. They were, surprisingly, generally the firsts to eat breakfast and their absence on the table made your stomach boil up.

"Want an egg, dear?" Molly asked you after placing a scrambled egg in front of her daughter.

"No, thanks. Not that hungry today" your answer surprised Mrs Weeasley, but she didn't bother insisting. 

You were avoiding asking about the twins, but after pouring yourself a cup of milk — and remembering the night before — you just couldn't take the unknown anymore. "Where are Fred and George?"

Ginny was the first to look at you, slowly smiling as she was understanding your curiosity. She, before even you, noticed you three were up to something bigger than pranking everyone in the house. You suspected she even knew about the secret midnight getaways, but she was too embarrassed to say a thing. 

Mrs Weasley pointed a finger at you, letting go of the frying panhandle in a gasp. "See? The visitors noticed it is weird!" her voice was louder than before, her eyes wide open at Mr Weasley direction.

The husband let go of his newspaper, which fell on his lap. He rolled his eyes — a habit that you now understood it was very common for the Weasleys.

"Dear Merlin, woman, I believe they are alright. If they were up to no good, we would have known by now" he said, in a fail attempt of calming down his wife.

Molly simply got back facing the house's stove, but she didn't look pleased. "I swear if I catch them doing evil spells again..." but she never finished her threat.

Percy finally got down to the kitchen, sitting at his father's right. "Good morning, family. Good morning, y/N."

You were in no mood of being nice so you just mockingly smiled at him. Ginny chocked with her mug on hand, almost spitting the drink.

Harry and Ron came down the stairs laughing, but their giggles died once they sat on the table. Harry was polite enough to wish us all a good morning, but Ron didn't do so, he just sat next to you with a weird expression on his face.

"Where are the twins?" he asked, realising the missing pieces of the breakfast table.

"They weren't in their rooms," Mr Weasley said, finally revealing to you what you had been most curious about. "So I don't know where they can be."

Alas, that only left you with a lot more questions. What could they possibly be doing? Was it your fault? Could Fred have asked for his twin's help to disappear from the house just because you kissed him? If that was the case, good Merlin, your mood for the morning was less than appropriate. That was it. Fred hated you and was disgusted by the kiss. You were a shame for your name.

"They are not planning on dye my hair again, are they?" Ron asked, facing you. 

You shook your head. "Don't ask me, I don't quite understand those two myself" you replied, drinking all your milk with one gulp.

Ginny was about to burst into laughter, so she filled her mouth with her mom's scrambled eggs. Ron, on the other hand, kept on staring at you, like he was trying to catch something you didn't say. Harry looked at you sympathetically but said nothing.

Even after breakfast, Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley kept on arguing about their missing kids, and you were eavesdropping, in hopes to listen to anything at all that could contain important information.

"That's rude, did you know?" Harry's voice whispered. You looked back to face the boy that had a smile. He sat next to you on the couch while you closed the book you held in case you needed a disguise since that didn't work out.

"It's just... I'm worried" you confessed, unwilling to pretend. Harry was the one you used to tell everything, so why not this? He might be able to help you, anyway.

"They're fine. They got my invisibility cloak this morning, so I think it's some prank they're organising" Harry explained, pressing his lips together at the end of the sentence. He seemed more worried about you than the boys, and you thought that could only mean you didn't have to worry.

"You allowed it?" you asked, knowing how much that cloak meant to Harry.

"I owe them a lot. Besides, they'll return it to me." he shrugged.

You stared at your best friend for a while, not knowing what to say. One thing was telling him that you were concerned about the twins' escape; telling him that you might have feelings for Fred was a whole other.

Harry Potter sighed. "Look, I don't know how to say this but... I'm sure he feels the same"

His commentary caught you by surprise.

"What?"

"Fred Weasley," Harry said, like that explained everything. Noticing you were still very much confused, he added: "This mix of thing you're feeling, he's totes feeling the same"

You raised an eyebrow at that information. There was a reason for you to have been friends with Harry besides all the odds — you two understood each other in a level that no other two persons have ever. It was like that when you found him about to cry on your second year, and it was like that right now, with him staring at you as he knew of your secrets.

"Am I that obvious?" you asked, giggling nervously.

He smiled, sympathetic. "I don't think so 'cause he and Ron haven't noticed it yet"

"Ron?" you replied, perplexed, which caused Harry to laugh a bit too loud.

"Yeah... He thinks you plan on killing his brother or something" he revealed. "I don't blame him, you do look at Fred sometimes like you want to explode his head"

"Yes! Because he's so dimwitted!" your exclamation made you both burst into laughter, so much, you lost your breath. 

It was good talking to Harry and realising your friendship was still pure and genuine, even if Harry's life was in danger all the time and you sounded like a spoiled child.

"Wait a minute" once you calmed down, a question popped in your head "When you say only Fred and Ron doesn't know about — hmm my crush, let's say — you mean that the rest of the family knows?"

"Well of course! George is even jealous of how much time you two have been spending together!" Harry said, leaning closer to you "Ginny thinks it's cute, on the other hand"

You glanced at him, with smirk "Ginny, huh? Talking to her a lot, are we?" He rolled his eyes. 

"Don't be stupid" his phrase made you start laughing all over again.

***

When George and Fred finally showed up, the sun was almost gone.

Molly Weasley awaited for them close to the front door, holding somewhat of kitchen utensil, that you weren't able to recognize due to the distance.

You, Ginny, Ron, Percy and Potter were having a picnic outside. After the food was all eaten, Percy got back to his room, but the rest of you stayed there, laying on the tablecloth on the grass, watching the clouds and making jokes. 

It was Ron that first saw his brothers arriving because he heard his mom's screams. To be fair, it didn't take long for all of you to hear her screams as well.

Ron desperately wanted to get up and be closer to the scene, but Ginny advised him it'd be better to stay. His mom could start punishing him too.

"WHERE WERE YOU TWO??" Molly asked, making herself heard all around the neighbourhood.

Fred had Harry's cloak on his hands, you recognized it, but he also had a bag in his hands that you didn't know what could it be.

George looked scared of his mom, so he was the first to talk. Although you couldn't hear him — differently from his mom, he wasn't screaming —, you imagined he was explaining where they went 'cause he held up to white plastic bags.

"YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME! OR LEAVE A NOTE! THERE WERE SO MANY ALTERNATIVES!" Molly pointed out, making the twins duck their heads.

You could swear you heard they say "I'm sorry" and then she let them in. Not before exclaiming "After you come back from Hogwarts, you won't be allowed out of the house!"

You wondered if she was gonna remember that punishment once they were back.

"Where do you think they were?" you asked Ginny.

"I think they went to buy presents," Ginny said, not looking at you, still facing the house entrance.

"HA! As if our brothers would buy us anything" Ron had a weird face on and got up as soon as he realised the path was clear.

"I didn't say it was for us" Ginny replied, turning slowly to face you. 

It didn't take long for the rest of the eyes to fall upon you too.

"Bloody hell" grunted Ron, before rolling his eyes and forcing Harry to leave with him.

***

Christmas Eve was an event of not much importance at the y/L/N household. Her mom would make the house-elves put on some decorations for Christmas, like a tree and maybe some lights, but that was that. They would have a bigger than the already big dinners the house had, y/N's parents would give her presents, and after that, they'd go to bed. 

No hugging near the fireplace, no jokes about the holiday and no visit of the rest of the family to fill the house. To feel a bit less lonely,  you used to ask the three house-elves of the house to eat with you at the table, however, they generally refused. To make it up, you'd leave after dinner to eat some cake with them in the kitchen.

All that way of celebration was nothing close to the Weasleys' Christmas Eve. After the twins' arrival, Molly Weasley put all the kids to work, instructing you where to put every single decoration she had stored, and she had a lot. Percy and Mr Weasley got responsible for the tree, and they did a pretty good job with it.

Ginny would make you laugh now and then because she used to stop decorating the walls to put the ornaments on herself.

Although avoiding each other, you'd lock eyes with Fred from time to time, you simply couldn't avoid it. To break the stares, Ginny would fake cough right next to you, in a way of calling out your attention. It helped, because, you were not in the mood to gaze at Fred. 

Ok, it might have been you the one to run away after the kiss, but it was in the middle of the night. Besides, he was the one missing in the next morning, so, some part of your brain decided that he should be the one to talk to you first. The only problem was that he didn't seem ready to do so.

"Dinner's ready, kids!" Mrs Weasley called out for you all.

You followed Ginny, sitting right next to her like you had done it in the morning. Fred faced you, confused by your change of seats, but he didn't say a thing. Molly had prepared such a big feast that you were surprised she could have done it all on her own. Of course, the meal at your house was way bigger, but you couldn't blame her, she just didn't have house-elves for the rescue.

"It tastes like Heaven, Mrs Weasley!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your pleasure for the deliciousness that woman had prepared.

The Weasleys' mom smiled shyly, her cheeks turning red. "Well, thank you, y/N! It's nice to hear such a good compliment! You guys should learn with her."

The way she replied made you selfconscious. Ron immediately faced you, with an angry look, like you had ruined his whole life. Mr Weasley and Percy were smiling at your politeness, but you couldn't see because you were facing the only one you shouldn't.

Fred Weasley lifted his eyes from his food to you, trying to hide his smile. The truth was that he was really happy to see you hit it off with his mom.

"Oh, and dear, what did I say about my name?" Mrs Weasley said, forcing you to face her instead of Fred, which you were thankful.

"Sorry, Molly" you replied, using her name. She smiled back at you.

*** After everyone got full with not only the dinner but also the dessert, Molly cleaned the table without letting you get up.

"Wait, you fools. I want to give you your presents" she said, getting up from her chair. She got a plastic bag from somewhere behind her seat and started distributing what looked like handmade winter clothes.

"There you go, husband... Percy... Dear Ginny" she stopped herself to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Harry, I got you something too. As well for you, y/N, just let me find it" she sank her hand further into the bag.

"Oh, but there was no need, Mrs... Molly" you said, correcting yourself along the away.

"Nonsense" she returned, finally getting what she looked for from the bag. "Fred and George, here you go."

"Matching scarfs! Nice!" Fred commented, smiling to his brother. They wrapped the scarf around each other's necks.

"Now, we can look identical!" George added, making his mom roll her eyes.

"Here's yours, Harry" she gave Harry a black scarf, that had an 'H' in one of its ends. She turned herself at you, holding a golden-like scarf, much like the ones with the twins. "I had trouble with yours, dear. Ginny warned me you were coming at the last minute and..."

"Hey, no worries, Molly. You didn't even need to give me something!" you thanked her, interrupting her attempt of justification. She then let you get the scarf from her hands. You weren't wrong to think it was like the twins' one. It was one of the twins' one, Fred's actually because there was a big 'F' in one of its ends.

"I didn't realise I had already done one for Fred" she started, ducking her head, afraid of your reaction. "If you'd like, I can redo it until the end of the holiday, and, you know..."

"Molly, Molly" you interrupted, holding her arm, trying to calm her down. "It's ok. I like it this way."

"Damn right she does" Ginny muttered, and you kicked her under the table.

"Besides, I don't think Fred has a problem with it, do you, Freddie?" you asked, finally facing him. 

He was caught by surprise, swallowing hard before returning with a quick comment. "The 'F' looks good on you" and then he winked, making you blush.

Mrs Weasley seemed relieved of the way you handled things and smiled to you. "I'm glad you are here this year with us. I'll hope you'll come next years"

"Oh, she will," Ginny remarked again just so she could win another kick of yours.

"I have presents for you all as well. I mean, I couldn't come without presents" you said, getting up. "Just wait."

You left to Ginny's room, so you could get the presents you had bought at Hogsmeade for all of them. You even had caught presents for Bill and Charlie, because you didn't know they wouldn't be there.

"You didn't have to, dear," said Molly Weasley when you got back to downstairs. You nodded, "It's almost nothing, I mean, I got you all some candy from Honeydukes", you smiled showing your teeth, "It's barely a present."

You started passing the candy to everyone since they were all the same, it didn't matter to who you were giving.

"Well, thank you," Mr Weasley said, causing your cheeks to turn red. He was a very poilite but quiet man, quite different from the rest of the family.

"I've got ones to Bill and Charlie as well, 'cause I didn't know they wouldn't come. Can you give it to them, Molly?" you asked, politely.

"Sure," she said, running her hand to your back.

"What about our candy?" Fred and George asked together, which caused the table to laugh.

"Well, I knew there were things more important than candy for you two, so..." you got the last items inside the bag you had in your hands, "Bilton Blimes told me these were things you have been looking for ages but were never able to find."

The twins looked at you shocked, both their mouths wild open, which caused you to laugh. "I'd say after this morning you guys don't deserve it..."

"They don't" an angry Molly Weasley commented.

"...but I wouldn't use it anyway" you continued, giving them their precious little toys.

Percy was the only one at the table that was not laughing at Fred and George's faces. Even Molly gave in, giggling a little.

"Now, off of here, I need to clean up" she ordered, probably desperate to hide her smile from her kids.

Mr Weasley stayed with his wife, to help her with the dishes, which you thought was too cute of him. Percy was the first to leave the table, followed by Harry, Ron and Ginny, they were playing with each other, trying to steal one another candy. You just rolled your eyes at them.

"Thank you, so, so much, y/N!" exclaimed Fred, walking in your direction, holding his little toy in his hands, unable to take his eyes off of it.

"Yeah, y/N, thanks! If my brother isn't keeping you, I'd gladly do it!" George said, laughing. Fred slapped his back, but the twin didn't even move. He left the kitchen faster, leaving you and Fred on the slow walk you two were doing.

You didn't want to be the first to talk, but you needed to say something. Fred seemed to be feeling the same, but he didn't open his mouth. When you were brave enough to say something, he started talking with you. "So I" you both started together.

You stared at each other, embarrassed. "You go first," he said at the same time as you. You looked at him, ashamed again, and then you both break into laughs. He touched you in your elbow, suggesting with his eyes to the stairs. You headed that way, sitting on the second step.

"I'm sorry I run away last night" you started saying, avoiding looking at his eyes. He sat next to you. He reached for your hands, leaving the present you had just gave him on the upper step. "I'm sorry I disappeared this morning."

You both stared at each other, taking in a moment to just stay in silence. Neither of you cared to say that it was ok because you knew that wasn't the problem. You weren't worried about the disappearance but worried about what it had meant. What the kiss meant.

"So..." you began but couldn't finish. You weren't brave enough to be the first to mention it and by the looks of it, neither was he.

"I... hm, I've got you something. For Christmas" he said, swallowing dry. "It's in my room."

You didn't know what he was expecting you to say.

"Come, I'll show you" he squeezed your hand, before getting up and helping you do the same.

He guided you through the stairs, without letting go of your hand. He stopped at the sight of a door — you supposed it was his — and opened it, slowly. "Sorry for the mess."

"No worries" you smiled because the room was actually cleaner than what you expected to see from the bedroom of the biggest pranksters of Hogwarts.

He had to let go of your hand to kneel before his bead, to get something that was underneath it.

"Here," he said, getting up. "Take it, it's yours."

You took the box from his hands, scared of what could be inside. 

"It's not a prank, come on" he smiled, noticing you were afraid to open it.

You undid the lace, taking the cover of the box. Inside, your wand looked like as if it was just new.

"We swapped it" he pointed out, while you took your wand of the box. It felt nice to have it in your hands once again. 

His wand, the one you've been carrying around all day was placed on your boot. You bowed to get it and returned it to the rightful owner. "Here you go," you said, trying to smile even though you were a little disappointed with his gift.

He giggled at you while getting his wand. "That's not your present, y/N. Look closer to the box."

After hs advise, you came upon noticing the box had a spell, probably the Undetectable Extension Charm. You reached further inside the box, trying to find whatever Fred could have hidden.

"It's a quaffle!" you exclaimed, getting the ball outside of the box. It looked new, its red appearance shining.

Fred giggled at your reaction.

"Why a quaffle?" you asked, confused with the quidditch ball chasers use to score. Yeah, you had learned a couple of things.

"Well, I saw how happy you get playing quidditch and I want you to keep on playing" he started, looking deep into you eyes "I like seeing you happy."

He shrugged like he had said something of the least importance. You stood on tiptoe so you could reach him and kissed him on the cheek. 

He swallowed, his cheeks turning redder than his hair. "You'll keep on playing?"

"Of course! If you keep on being my teacher" you suggested, satisfied with your attempt of sassiness.

"Oh, you are a keeper" he commented, making you chuckle because of the double meaning of the sentence. It made you even happier once you realised that he might have been using the word's double meaning from the very beginning.

"FRED WEASLEY, WHERE ARE YOU?" you listened to a scream, probably coming from the living room.

"MOM, I'LL BE DOWN IN A SECOND!" he shouted back, making you laugh hard.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT!" his mom shouted back. Fred rolled his eyes.

"I wonder if she noticed that I'm not downstairs as well" you pointed out, holding the quidditch ball with only one hand.

"Ginny must have covered you up, which I see George wasn't able to do for me," Fred said, his tone showing discomfort.

"Then, let's go. What are you waiting for?" you said, reaching for his hand to take him downstairs. It was funny, you tough, coping his mom's words.

"For this" he answered, taking his free hand at your waist, pulling you closer to him. The encounter of bodies made you let go of the quaffle, that fell upon the floor without any noise.

Fred leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. This time, there was no hush. You both have been waiting to repeat that for so long, that when it finally happened it was like the world had stopped just to let you two kiss in peace.

He embraced you tighter and tighter, and although, you needed time out for breathing, you didn't let go of each other.

You didn't know how long had passed when you finally got away from each other.

"Merry Christmas" Fred wished you, his voice a bit rough from the long snogging session.

You smiled at him.

"Merry Christmas, Fred."