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glowingbadger · 3 years

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Okay, so I had a thought for our dear fox boy, Kurama.... Imagine, "trying" to tease him by going down on him only to suddenly switch it up and go down on you instead, especially when you least expect it as revenge. You're on the phone with your best friend and suddenly he's there between your legs, but you can't say anything or let your friend know.

Oh-hoo, a most excellent concept, friend- and actually plays into a couple things I've written about Kurama before too, so I guess I should have seen this coming xD

Also this all just reminded me that I HAVE to do some sketches of the YYH boys in late 90's fashion. Ugh, what absolute icons.

Kurama (YYH) x AFAB Reader

NSFW 18+ v

Kurama's hair splays out across the pillow, making him look for all the world like a lounging ingenue in a romantic painting. Still, those emerald eyes level on you with a sharp cunning that tells you clearly where you stand. He wears a subdued smile that someone who didn't know him might find pleasant, charming- but you know what the grin of a fox spirit really means.

"Feeling rather bold today, aren't you?" he says, his tone light and conversational, even as your hands run down his chest and the toned contours of his abdomen from atop his clothing.

"Well, it doesn't seem fair for you to call the shots all the time," you reply from your position straddling his hips. You like to think you sound the part of the confident seductress, but your heart leaps every time you meet Kurama's calculated gaze. You may be in the "dominant" position, but you know you haven't nearly tamed him. For now, you'll just have to try to push him a bit further.

You kiss a slow and deliberate path down the center of his torso, undoing the buttons of his shirt one-by-one, and revelling in the feeling of firm muscle shifting and flexing at your touch. Kurama lets out an openly pleasured sigh, and doesn't shy away in the slightest as your hands reach the front of his jeans. With a playful little hum, you run your hand up along the bulge of his stiffening cock beneath layers of fabric. Very subtly, his hips shift up towards your touch, and you bite at your lip as your eyes flicker up to his yet unreadable expression.

"You must be much more sensitive than you let on, Kurama," you tease, tracing his length with a single finger, "You're already this hard, after all."

Just as you'd started to feel sure of having the upper hand, he props himself up on an elbow to observe you between his thighs. One hand reaches down to caress your cheek, ending at your chin, where his thumb runs the curve of your lower lip.

"Of course I am," he replies bluntly, "It's only natural when I desire you so ardently. Besides," he goes on, his grin curling into a smirk, "If your aim is retribution for all that I've done to you, then I imagine I have quite a thrilling evening to look forward to."

So much for flustering him, or even just getting him to act a little bit shy. Your cheeks burn hot, and you mumble,

"Should have tied you up. And gagged you, while we're at it."

"Hm. Perhaps you should have," Kurama replies casually.

This bastard. Is it really this impossible to gain the slightest bit of ground on him?

Impatient for results, you undo the front of his jeans, and tug them down with his boxers, freeing his impressive member from its confines. Kurama continues to watch you comfortably as you take the base of his cock in hand and slowly drag your tongue up the underside of his shaft. You can feel it twitching and swelling in your hand, hardening to its full size before too long. Frankly, you've half a mind to climb onto his lap and ride him then and there. He does so love to tease you- the chance to have him now without the usual exercise of restraint is undeniably tempting. For the time being, you satisfy yourself with gently licking and kissing his twitching manhood, letting the warmth of your breath and fleeting touches gently stimulate him.

He is clearly enjoying himself; aside from the soft murmurs of pleasure he grants you as your tongue circles the crown of his cock, his direct gaze hasn't wavered for even a moment. Still propped up above you, he absently strokes your hair in one hand as half-lidded eyes watch your attempts to provoke him.

"You mean to tease me, I see..." he says softly, his tone only hinting at his amusement. Even better concealed is the heady arousal building at his core- his desire to break this arrogant facade you've put on, to see you crumble back into obedience at his hands.

And as if by divine providence, his opportunity arrives.

The phone at the bedside table rings, and you pause to glance up at Kurama. Only the glint in his eye hints at his plan at first- but then, as you watch in disbelief, he picks up the phone before it's finished its third ring. He sits upright as he greets your friend on the line, and your body feels hot and cold all at once.

"Hm? Oh, yes- right here, in fact. One moment."

Kurama meets your eyes with a smirk and offers the phone to you with his hand cupped over the receiver. Your face is burning red, and you grumble near inaudibly,

"No fair!"

He gives a short laugh, tucking away his still-hard cock and then fixing his clothing with his free hand as he says,

"I apologize if I have ever given you the impression that I am 'fair' by nature." All at once, he catches you around the waist and pulls you down onto your back on the bed. You resist crying out in surprise, if only because when you look up at him and see the smouldering heat in his eyes, your breath catches in your chest. Then, without a word, he hands the phone to you. Biting nervously at your lower lip, you take it from him, clear your throat, and say,

"He-hey! How's it going?"

Your friend immediately launches into an excited ramble about the finale of a show she's been following obsessively for the last year and a half. Honestly, you should have expected this call- stupid of you to think you'd have the evening free with the finale airing. As she goes on about how "so many of her predictions were dead-on," Kuramas hands run indulgently down the contours of your body. Your heart races, and you can't help tensing, arching up against him just a little. Then, he's working your pants down off your hips, and you give him a pleading look that he meets like a stone wall.

"-- I mean, can you believe it?! It's like, exactly what I said would happen!!"

"Yeah, that's, uh," you struggle to keep up, but your eyes are fixed on Kurama lowering himself between your bared legs, "that's pretty wild..."

With a placade grin on his face, he kisses a trail down the inside curve of your thigh, his touches delicate and yet unreserved. Your eyelids flutter half-shut, but you force yourself to- more or less -follow the thread of your friend's rant. That is, until you feel the sting of Kurama's teeth at the soft flesh far up the inner curve of your thigh. He sucks a dark love-bite to your skin- one that you know will remind you of his presence there for days to come. Still, you manage to camouflage your gasp of shock and pleasure into a sudden cough.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, totally! Sorry, don't mind me- go on!" you babble out your reply in a hurry, knowing you won't be able to trust your voice when Kurama continues this torment. He chuckles silently behind his hand, and you pout uselessly at him. Rather than acknowledge this, he refocuses on his task as the phone rant continues. You do your best to keep a consistent stream of "Oh, yeah?" and "Wow, crazy!", all while elegant fingers spread your lower lips and warm breath teases your over-sensitive body. Then, without warning, his tongue glides firm across your aching clit. Your thighs twitch in around his head and you arch up from the bed.

"Woa--! That's... incredible!" you translate the gasp you desperately want to let out into a perhaps overly-enthusiastic reply. Fortunately, your friend is too caught up in her finale recap to police her own excitement, let alone yours. Still wearing that cocky smirk, Kurama pushes his hair back behind his ears, then returns to tease your clit with the tip of his tongue.

He doesn't let up after this, and frankly, your impulses are torn. Part of you wants to be as subtle as possible, to silently endure the slow, luxurious movements of his lips and tongue pulsing against your cunt and stiffened clit. Another part of you- the part you're fighting to subdue -wants to grab onto that silky red hair and grind against him, to rush yourself to your climax and to spare yourself further torture. But you and Kurama both know you won't be able to keep quiet if you do. So you fuss anxiously with the phone's tangled cord, shifting and squirming on the bed beneath him and biting back pleasured gasps and whimpers.

Your legs are trembling around him and you're positively soaked with your arousal and his saliva. Leaning back on the pillow, you scrunch your eyes closed and take a deep breath.

"Oh- you remember that one voice actor I told you about?"

"Yeah, uh," you struggle to pull your thoughts together, but Kurama nudges the flat of his tongue rhythmically against your clit, and your body is begging for release, "This show... was his first big on-screen thing, right?" you manage to choke out. As though pleased by your performance, your lover gives a soft hum that sends his breath fluttering over your vulnerable skin, then presses more firmly into you. His skillful tongue teases your entrance for a moment, rubbing into you while your muscles tighten, instinctively longing for friction, for something inside, for something to cling to. You're panting silently, biting at your finger to keep quiet while your friend tells you all about her latest celebrity crush.

So close. You're so dangerously close to the rush of your climax. But you hold on, every inch of your body aching with need and restraint. Kurama can obviously sense the desperate state you're in, and you know that he's savoring it. And yet, when you glance down to watch the erotic movements of his mouth, the way his eyes devour you, the way his hands grip at your hips- you realize that you don't have it in you to care about your pride anymore.

"Anyway, they're airing an interview with the cast soon, so I gotta go so I don't miss it."

The words are a beacon of hope, and while your friend apologizes for cutting out so suddenly, you assure her again and again that you don't mind.

"Really, you should... go- uh, go enjoy the thing!"

Kurama's lips seal around your clit and the dearly sensitive surrounding flesh. His tongue flicks across the hard little bundle over and over, his hands firm at your hips, holding you strictly in place. He's not holding back anymore. Your eyes roll back and your body burns, but you keep yourself silent. Just a little longer. Don't let him make you cum- not yet. He feels too good- and you know he wouldn't care if you screamed his name for your friend or anyone else to hear.

"Oh, also, we should totally grab coffee or something soon!"

"Yeah- that sounds really good-!" your back arcs up from the sheets.

"Cool! I'll call again soon, byeeee!"

You hear the click of the receiver on the other end. Your arms go limp, dropping the phone to the floor. Kurama leans over you, pushing himself against you while his tongue works your clit and you gasp aloud for him.

"Kurama! Ohhh... Oh, God- I'm-!"

A tingling, sparkling wave of pleasure explodes from your core and rushes across the surface of your skin. You can't remember the last time you came this hard, and you imagine Kurama can feel what he's doing to you. Your taste coats his tongue, one shaky hand weaves your fingers through his hair as your hips buck towards him. With one last desperate cry of his name, you relax back onto the bed, your boneless limbs making you feel like a puddle of mindless bliss.

Panting, practically gasping for breath, your unfocused eyes gaze up at the ceiling as the last tremors of your climax pass through you.

"Haa... Mm, Kurama..." you whimper out as he places one last kiss to your now soaked folds.

He crawls up atop you, and a gentle hand turns your face to him. His smile is warm and openly affectionate, and he caresses your cheek like a groom at the altar. Looking at him now, it's hard to imagine he's the same man who just put you through that unique form of torture. You're still catching your breath, and when he kisses you with all the tenderness in the world, you can hardly even reciprocate.

"Well done, my love," he says at last, "Do you think you can continue to behave for me tonight?"

Some distant part of your mind realizes that you've been manipulated- that he's utterly dismantled your attempt at dominance. You should be frustrated. You should try to regain the upper hand and show him that he doesn't always gets to be in control. Instead, your half-lidded eyes meet him and you murmur,

"Yes... I'll be good..."

#kurama #yu yu hakusho #kurama yyh #shuichi minamino #kurama x reader #yu yu hakusho smut #kurama smut #x reader #yu yu hakusho imagines

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

Buds of Marigold. Yan Childe x Reader x Yan Scaramouche

Warnings: Implied forced marriage, unhealthy relationships, depictions of anxiety, darling threatening violence against someone, mild not SFW implications. Word count: 2.5k.

“I never thought the day would come where I’d be so stumped,” Ying’er runs her fingers over glass bottles of essential oils and varying plant nectars. “For such an important customer too… everything needs to be perfect.”

You don’t lift your eyes from the task in your hands, scrubbing valiantly at a stain blemishing an incense pot. To affirm you have been listening, even if you won’t spare her a glance until you’ve finished cleaning, you hum with a rising intonation. Ying’er sinks to the ground with all the grace of a drunken sailor, sniffling in a final attempt to pry out your sympathy.

She hobbles over to where you’re sitting and places her head on your lap. Your body tenses at the sudden touch, but you steady your breathing before it can get noticeable.

“Oh, almighty Yun, the lost Archon of fragrances, have thee no pity for thy devout follower,” Ying’er lifts the back of her hand and presses it against her forehead in a show of unparalleled theatrics. The sight does as she intended, a light giggle leaving your lips at the impromptu melodrama. Her timing lines up well as the stubborn grime you were fighting finally concedes.

You place the incense pot aside and sheepishly pat her head. “Ying’er, how are you going to learn if I give you the answers every time?”

“By your ingenious example!” She exclaims, jutting out her lower lip into a pout. “I’ve already picked out the base, I just need a little nudging in the right direction for the top and mid notes.”

Your eyes soften and your heart is strum with conviction. You soothe your grumbling friend by stroking her hair, humming a soft tune, all the while feeling somewhat baffled by your growth thus far. A few moons ago, you couldn’t have pictured allowing yourself to be touched like this by anyone. It wouldn’t matter how innocent the contact was. The moment someone got too close for comfort, you were willing to reduce them to nothing but a pile of cinders.

You pause your ministrations and sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll help you compose your perfume. This is the last time though, okay?”

Ying’er ailments seemingly vaporize into the air at your begrudging assistance. She shoots up from her kneeling position like her feet were coiled springs, an overflow of gratitude fumbling past her lips.

“You’re the best, Yun,” she praises and pinches your cheek, much to your chagrin. “Now that I’ve won you over with my charms, how about—”

The front door’s chimes ring, alerting you both of someone entering. You two exchange a look of confusion, as Scent of Spring is closed for the day, the oil lanterns extinguished and doors locked. Your finger twitches by your side in anticipation. Ying’er is blissfully ignorant to your Vision and subsequent ability to command forward a blade, a façade you wish to sustain.

“I’ll handle it,” Ying’er says before you can contemplate your options another second. You nod, an unspoken appreciation etched onto your countenance. The details of your circumstances were purposefully murky and she never presses. Whatever conclusions Ying’er has come to, you prefer it stays that way, not wanting to upset the delicate balance that is your current life.

You straighten out her collar which had wrinkled. “Call me if anything’s wrong.”

Ying’er winks reassuringly and presses her hands over yours, the touch featherlight. “I’m a fearsome opponent, no one would dare cross me.”

Let’s hope that’s true, you think. Frowning, you observe her retreating figure, taking caution to remain out of sight. Ying’er steps out of the backroom, the thick wooden door closing loudly behind her. You keen your ears to listen, cursing internally over how the thick walls muffle their voices. Her voice is one you instantly recognize, but the other belongs to someone with a deeper timbre. Your boss is an elderly woman, so that rules her out. A Millieth, perhaps?

You’re not left waiting for long, much to your relief. Ying’er pops her head back in a few minutes later.

“It was just a returning customer who was pleased with his latest commission, the one you helped me with no less. He had nothing but high praises for it!”

Waves of relief crash over you, but your senses remain on high alert.

“I’m happy to hear that. Still, how did he manage to get in? Didn’t you lock up for the night?” You inquire, hoping you don’t sound overly paranoid. In the back of your mind, you can’t fully discount the idea that it’s him, the thought alone enough to have you shaking in place.

“Must’ve forgotten or something,” she shrugs. You let out a breath you were holding in at her nonchalance, it seems plausible given her airheaded nature. “By the way, Yun, can we work on the perfume in the morning? I just realized how tired I am.”

“Of course. It has been a long day... I’ll finish things up here, go home and get some rest.”

Ying’er waves and wishes you a good night.

It’s now your turn to slump onto the ground, grasping your chest when your knees hit the floor. Deep breaths, deep breaths, you tell yourself. Everything is going to be okay.

This peaceful existence that you’ve fought tooth and nail to build for yourself… the only way it could ever get be stolen from your hands is if air no longer filled your lungs. Your fingers travel underneath the foreign fabric of your Liyue garments, the warmth of your pulsating Vision giving you solace. Tending to the last few chores, your subconscious drifts elsewhere, to an island beyond the sea. What is it you would be doing this time of day again? Ironically enough, you realize you’d be working with incense as you are now, but for different reasons. The reason you excel with curating incense to produce the best aroma is because you were trained to do so.

Your work now is your lifeblood, giving you enough to scrape by undetected. Those days, however, were a different story. It constituted survival like now, but to a far more humiliating degree. It was expected of you to perform your duties with grace and discipline. You would retire early to your shared chambers, prepare and burn your husband’s favorite incense, and fuss over your appearance in the vanity. Then you would loosen the sash of your obi, just enough so that if it had been a frustrating day, he could lose himself in your body for a momentary escape. Those customs had been ingrained into your mind. Had you needed to, you’re certain you could’ve done everything with your eyes closed from memory.

You head for the back exit. Surely, your past self would be thrilled to know your meticulous plans had come to fruition. All those smiles through gritted teeth, submissive language, and patience that could rival that of a god… everything was worth it.

Now you’re no longer the number Six of the Fatui's Eleven Harbingers’ spouse. You’ve taken the identity of Yun, a Visionless worker for a perfume shop in Liyue, everyday defined by freedom. To do as you please, go where you please, speak to who you please. The little details that were stolen from you by his hands return like tentative buds in spring.

You’ve yet to fully assimilate with Liyue’s cuisine, but it’s steadily growing on you. Maybe you’ll make an Inazuma-inspired dish tonight? In the months that have passed, you’ve found a taste for your nation’s food coming back. So as not to repeat Ying’er’s mistake, you double-check the backdoor’s locks, finding it is as it should be. Behind the humble shop is an alley which you use to creep back home. It’s best not to risk traveling out in the open if you can avoid it, you never know what eyes might be hiding in plain sight.

“Liyue apparel compliments you very well.”

With the speed of a descending phoenix, you pivot on your heel, summoning your weapon and pressing it to the jugular of whoever spoke just now. Squinting, your eyes take a few long seconds to adjust. Once they do, your body feels like it’s being drug into the underworld, the air in your lungs forced out. This man… you’ve seen him before. He gives you an all teeth grin, azure eyes swirling with delight and face contorting in amusement.

You remain steadfast through your bewilderment. “Try and scream and I’ll slit your throat.”

“I’m not much of a screamer,” Childe replies, laughing as if the situation was comical. “It’s good to see you too, [First]. Never thought I’d happen upon an old face in Liyue. I knew I recognized that unique combination of perfume, looks like I was right.”

It hits you that this is the first time you’ve heard your actual name in months. How Childe says it doesn’t feel right, he utters it with familiarity. Though, from what you remember, he’s never been known for having boundaries. Scaramouche would complain about his conduct for hours if given the opportunity. This would be the first time you’ve spoken with him, not from a lack of trying on his behalf. When Childe paid a visit to your husband’s estate, you were expected to be present at the start of their meetings. They would discuss business together while you stood there and looked easy on the eyes. Occasionally, you would refill their tea, but that was all you were permitted to do.

The look Scaramouche shot Childe when the latter tried speaking with you was enough to give you nightmares for days.

“What… what are you going to do now?” You murmur, anticipating the worst. This isn’t going to end well no matter what. If Fatui are in Liyue, that means Childe’s likely told someone where he was going; meaning that him going missing would be suspicious and warrant an investigation. On the other hand, who is to say he won’t just return you to Scaramouche if you let him live? You doubt your tears and pleading would have any effect on the youngest Harbinger. He’s similar to your husband — acting altruistic and kind — only to show their true colors when it suits them best.

“Right now? I’m trying not to get my throat slit,” he raises an eyebrow like that was the most obvious answer.

You bite your lower lip. “We both know you could get out of this hold if you wanted to.”

“Emphasis on the ‘if I wanted to’ part. As of right now, I don’t believe I do, being held by you is rather enjoyable,” Childe tests the waters by moving forward, humming in contentment when you lessen your grip as not to slice through his skin. “See? You’ve never even killed someone before. Call it intuition, but I don’t think you could.”

He reconsiders the proposition for a second. “Well, maybe if it was him...”

“You’re as insufferable as I remember,” you hiss, imbuing heat into your blade. Childe barely backs off and the unspoken threat. “Everyone who refuses to take me seriously comes to regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I fully agree with that. The Balladeer reduced you to nothing but a pretty little ornament. He underestimated you and this is the consequence.” Childe has an easier time maintaining eye contact than you do. It’s another minute detail that expresses the gap in your experience. You may be adequately trained in combat, but that pales in comparison when faced with a trained killer. This sorry charade will end the moment he wants it to.

Hate floods through your veins like venom. He’s looking down on you, just in a different way than how your husband would. Where Scaramouche was condescending and sadistic, Childe is brutally honest and teasing. It’s a split-second decision on your behalf, one motivated by the desire to prove this smug bastard wrong more than self-preservation. You loosen your grip on him and jump back. It’s not a lot of space, however, it should be enough to allow you room to react when he strikes.

He goes silent. It’s painfully obvious that he’s trying to get a read on you, now that you’re veering into unexpected territory.

“You were waiting for an opening, weren’t you?” Your words come out with more strength than you thought possible, deep from the chest and guttural. “Well, here you go. It’s the best you’re going to get.”

Childe blinks. Once, twice. His shoulders start to tremble, his chest following soon after, and he lifts his gloved hand to cover his mouth. Hearty laughter leaves his lips and pierces your self-esteem. You don’t understand what’s so humorous to him — though you’re well aware these Harbingers hold no humanity — repulsion flooding your system. This feels nostalgic in the worst ways possible. Early on in your marriage, Scaramouche would regard your resistance with a similar air of blatant dismissal, like your protests were nothing but a tantrum.

“You were wasted with him,” Childe’s loathsome cackling dies down, a maniacal grin splitting his face ear to ear. “Now I understand… the way you’re looking at me now is chilling. Exciting. In what ways have you evolved to survive? I love the fight in you, unlike him. Your adaptability is remarkable, like that of the most cunning prey. ”

Prey. The dehumanizing word makes you frown, yet you remain firm in your stance. This is the best chance, you think, now that you’ve managed to surprise him once. There’s plenty more where that came from. Tendrils of molten flames, like they were stolen from the sun itself, would make for a considerable challenge. Harbinger or not, he should know better than to charge in without thinking twice when you hold a Pyro Vision.

His face returns to a more casual visage and he waves his hand. “I never had any intention of bringing you back to Inazuma. You think a Mora reward would be a good enough motivator for me to do that?”

“T-then why are you here?” You challenge, ever the skeptic. Childe can weave a tale of lies as much as he wants. That doesn’t mean you’ll allow yourself to be ensnared in it.

“I wanted to see how you’d react,” his nonchalant admission leaves you speechless. “Needless to say, you didn’t disappoint. A pretty face with the feist to match. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

“Oh, fuck off with that,” you snarl, your vision almost going red from the fury holding you hostage. Now that you no longer need to play the subservient partner, vulgarities come to you with ease, and you have no shortage of them for this blight in the flesh.

Childe’s smile widens. “No can do, I’m afraid. My curiosity has gotten the better of me this time. Could I tame you? Break your spirit better than he did? So show me your resolve to be free, sweet [First].”

He readies himself and you do as well. It’s in the dull illumination of the overhead lanterns that you realize there is no light in his eyes. How fitting, you think. That even his body has come to accept his lack of humanity.

“Go on. I’ll give you a ten second head start. After that... well, you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

#childe #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #scaramouche x reader #tartaglia #scaramouche genshin impact #yandere scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact imagine #my stuff

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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years

Text

B is for Blindfolds

Summary: The BAU Christmas party is held at the office. Penelope is full of terrible ideas, but somehow Emily’s are worse.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, use of a blindfold (for a fun game, not anything sexy here), pining, idiots who don’t realise their love is reciprocated as HELL (they will, but not quite yet).

Word count: 3k

A/N: okay so i really had fun writing this one!!! i have a solid solid direction of where this is headed now and i’m EXCITED about it! as always, please let me know what you think :) this is technically Wednesday’s update, and there’ll be another on Friday!

This is the second chapter of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but can be read as a stand alone.

The team, yourself included, are more than ready to let off a little steam. There was no point trying to book anywhere in advance, not with the sporadic nature of festive serial killers, so you’d taken over the office. Penelope had, in eager anticipation of your return, decked it out like a winter wonderland.

“Seriously, it looks like someone robbed a grotto,” Emily had joked.

She wasn’t wrong. A seven-foot Christmas tree, God knows how she’d smuggled that into the building, obscured the hallway outside Hotch’s office. It was dripping in tinsel, baubles, you name it. It even had a nutcrucker man. Mistletoe was hung, obviously in a way she believed to be covert, and maybe it would have been if you weren’t all deeply familiar with the antics of Penelope I-Love-The-Holidays Garcia. You’re all careful to sidestep it as you walk in, knowing she’s a stickler for the rules. All equally reluctant to invoke her wrath before a glass of eggnog or two.

On the table, there’s a selection of alcohol laid out. Alongside a bunch of pink glittery cups.

“I got everything!” Penelope chirps.

“I can see that baby girl,” Morgan chimes in, greeting her with a hug.

She really has: there’s juice, fruit, almost every liquor you can think of (including the fancy whiskey that Rossi and Hotch like to get out at dinner), wine of varying colours, and what looks to be some fancy fruit cider. From the spread, and the mischevious twinkle in her eye, you’re sure she won’t be letting you escape unscathed.

At that thought, you can’t help but steal a glance to your right.

Spencer. The man is stood next to you with folded arms, surveying the options in a way that almost looks pensive.

Got to behave myself

I will behave myself

Will he be drinking?

That question is answered when he takes a step towards the table, stepping behind it. He picks up a plastic cup and, playing bartender, asks.

“So, what can I get you?”

***

“Mixology is pretty much the same as any other kind of chemistry,” Spencer explains, gesturing with the hand that’s holding his cup and swilling the liquid, “It’s about balancing the right components to get the combination you want. A lot of the recipes call for more alcohol than is strictly necessary for the flavour they provide. Usually the other elements of the drink are designed to bring out the flavour or mask it, depending on what alcohol you’re using. Almost always you want to mask the taste of vodka, but tequila you try to balance it out.”

Spencer is leant on the desk next to you, rambling, having been allowed to be in charge of making everybody’s drinks over the past couple of hours.

Sipping the concoction he’s made you, you have to admit he’s done a pretty good job.

He clearly agrees, since he’s consumed more than a couple himself. He’s just tipsy enough to push at the boundaries of affection, his shoulder pressing against yours, his happy eyes a little glassy. You listen, hanging on every word he says, watching him lick his lips before he continues speaking again.

“That’s why they serve tequila shots with lime and salt.”

“And here I was thinking they were just making it fun for body shots,” Emily cuts in, making Morgan and Penelope laugh.

You see the look on Penelope’s face and intercept her before she can start, “Don’t even think about it.”

“But!”

“No!” You shake your head, “You really think Hotch is going to go for body shots?”

Hotch laughs dryly, taking a sip of the whiskey he’s been nursing, “That’s one I think I’ll refrain from participating in.”

“Fine,” Penelope pouts, “But everybody’s doing pin the tail on the donkey!”

“Pin the tail on the donkey? What are we, 5 years old?” Emily laughs.

You lean in against Spencer, who has been quietly surveying the last few moments. Your fingers slip slightly beneath his buttoned sleeves, coming to rest on his forearm.

“Balance,” You whisper quietly.

He nods, shifting to allow you to lean more closely into him on the desk.

It’s hard not to get distracted by your proximity to him.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. If you squinted, you might just look like a couple. That’s certainly what it looks like to Dave, who gives you a cursory once over before training his gaze elsewhere. Your heads are almost touching, Spencer is slouching but keeps his neck just stiff enough to avoid resting atop of yours. You’re casually against his body, the two of you strewn across the desk. It looks comfortable, familiar.

It feels comfortable, familiar.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

***

After a singular round of pin the tail on the donkey, during which a blindfolded Emily decided to go rogue and try to pin the tail on the moving-very-quickly-out-of-dodge Hotch, it’s decided the blindfolds will be used for a different purpose.

Trust falls.

Well, not so much trust falls, as you’re each blindfolded and tasked with the challenge of walking across the bullpen without falling.

“We’ll pair up!” Penelope announces, rubbing her hands together with glee, “Hotch you’re with Rossi, Emily you’re with me, Derek you’re with ____, and Spencer you’re with J.J!”

You will away the tinge of disappointment that flares in your chest at not having been paired with Spencer. Although, when you look up at him, you swear you can see a similar feeling sitting behind his eyes.

Probably reading too much into it

“Reid has an unfair advantage,” J.J argues, interrupting your thoughts.

“How do I have an unfair advantage?” Spencer asks.

“Eidetic memory,” She replies.

There are murmers of dissent, then Rossi pipes up.

“If you can’t make it across the bullpen you walk everyday without falling, I think you seriously need to consider whether you should be out in the field with a gun.”

Everybody laughs. They laugh more, though, when Rossi falls on his first attempt, crashing into Hotch. The two decide to resign from the game after that. Hotch plays the health and safety card, but privately you think it’s the double whiskeys that have betrayed him.

“You think you can do it?” You ask Spencer.

He smirks, “I could do it in my sleep.”

You shake your head, “Your legs are too long. You’re like Bambi at the best of times, let alone three mai tais in.”

“Two,” He objects, you quirk a brow and he relents, “Fine, three. And a whiskey Rossi gave me which was awful. I drank it fast and then he told me that one glass I’d had would cost $40. Who would pay $40 to drink that voluntarily?”

“Rossi, Hotch, Emily,” You smile, nudging him with your elbow, “And don’t think you’ve distracted me Spence, I’m still betting you fall.”

“You’re betting?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re that confident in my ability to mess up,” He teases.

“Something like that.”

He grins, “You’ll see.”

He takes the blindfold when it’s his turn, smirking at you as he adjusts it onto his face. It’s with a great degree of annoyance that you watch him clear the bullpen in five easy, and somehow very elegant, steps.

“Go Spence!” J.J cheers, her previous displeasure completely forgotten.

“Pretty boy!” Morgan cheers.

Without taking the blindfold off, Spencer tilts his head to exactly where you’re standing, smirking, “You wanna go next, ____?”

It’s hard not to visibly react to what his cockiness does to you.

You swallow, “Fine. Give it here.”

***

You move your feet confidently one in front of the other. After almost a year of walking the bullpen, you’re pretty certain you can get across it unscathed. You even remember to swing your hip to the right to miss the Santa gnome gone fishing currently hanging off Derek’s desk. In doing so, however, you manage to get yourself all caught up.

With a single step, you feel yourself slipping, arms flailing and managing to catch on to absolutely nothing. You panic.

"Spencer!"

"Spencer?!"

Spencer.

You recognise the feeling of his hands steadying you at your waist. He pulls you against his body, tucking your outstretched arm into him to steady you. You vaguely register Derek’s amused chuckle from behind you.

“I got you,” Spencer says, “Stay still, I’ll take the blindfold off.”

His hands gently slide up your cheeks, lifting it with care to avoid yanking on your hair. He pulls it up and away from your head smoothly.

The lights are dizzyingly bright. You blink rapidly, allowing your eyes to adjust on the face of the slightly concerned, slightly amused looking Spencer hovering above you. His left hand lingering against your cheek. You forget yourself entirely, lost in the intimacy of his touch, barely daring to blink in case it’s gone.

“Mistletoe!” Penelope cackles with glee, breaking your reverie.

“What?” You ask.

Spencer looks up. You follow his gaze, seeing the strategically placed mistletoe. In guiding you to safety, Spencer had walked right into Penelope’s trap.

Oh.

Derek teases something, underscored by a quip from Emily that has them both in hysterics. Neither you or Spencer are really listening.

He’s already so close to you. The pressure of his hand on your cheek starting to make you flush with warmth. His thumb strokes downwards, over your cheekbone. You tilt yourself a little towards him. Trying desperately to act casual, but ultimately failing miserably. His breath fans over your face, smelling faintly of rum and lime.

“Not like this,” He whispers, so quiet that only you can possibly hear him.

He presses a kiss to your cheek instead.

Fuck.

“Very exciting stuff guys,” Emily chirps.

Vaguely, you’re aware of J.J admonishing her, Rossi’s eyes studying you, Derek’s laughter, Penelope’s squeal of delight that someone had finally fallen into her trap.

Your heart thumps in your chest, and you wonder if it’s loud enough for Spencer to hear. From the way he swallows thickly, stepping back with a degree of caution and a look of a deer caught in the headlines, you think it probably was.

Fuck.

What did he mean not like this?

***

After the mistletoe debaccle, the party starts to die down a little. Hotch makes an excuse to leave, shortly followed by Rossi.

You stick around for a little while longer, devoting most of your time to the decidedly tipsy Penelope who’s hanging off Derek’s arm. The mood is nice, actually, a welcome change from the tense atmosphere that often clouds the bullpen, and its occupants wherever in the US they may be.

It’s a little after 1am when you decide to make your exit.

“Do you want to share an Uber?” You ask Spencer, gripping onto his elbow as he walks past.

“Yeah! I was planning on taking the metro but you’ll be safer in an Uber.”

“Are you...sharing it with me?” You ask, feeling a little awkward at having to repeat the request for clarification. The tipsiness you’d initially felt has started to wear off; it leaves both tiredness and an odd shyness in its place.

“Oh no! Of course!” He smiles, grabbing his satchel from where it’s slung over the back of his chair, “We’ll get them to drop you off first, then me.”

***

The wait for the Uber is silent, but not uncomfortable. You loll against Spencer, comfortable in the quiet. The only sounds to be heard of keys as various other agents leave the building. It’s easy to tell which are coming from the grind of the paperwork and which are coming from their own parties. You’d like to attribute it to a years worth of profiling experience but the tinsel around Jerry from White Collar Crimes’ neck is a tad on the nose.

You don’t speak until it arrives, climbing in and closing the door. Clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Sorry about embarassing us before,” You say, purposely being ambiguous.

He squints at you for a moment before opening his mouth, “You mean calling for me when you fell?”

“Yeah,” You say,

“You didn’t embarass me,” He says, quiet, “It was nice actually. Nobody’s ever called for me when they’ve been in trouble before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I uh, I guess I’m not the most athletic. People usually go to Morgan if they need some kind of physical help. It was nice. That you wanted me. Even if you are drunk.”

“I’d have asked for you sober,” You admit.

He squints in response, and you continue, “I trust you Spence. I trust you to always have my back in the field, to protect me. I’d trust you with my life. I mean, of course I’d trust any one of the others, the team wouldn’t work otherwise. But,” You trail off, a little embarassed.

“But it’s different.”

“Yeah. Like you’re the person I’m closest to I guess. In the almost year I’ve been here, we’ve worked together the most. I think I have the best working relationship with you. If ever there was a crisis, I’d want you. Even if the crisis is me tripping on my own shoelaces while blindfolded.”

You both laugh at that. It’d be easy to succumb to a comfortable silence again, let the moment fizzle out.

“I think the same about you,” He says, his voice cracks a little with the sincerity, “Whenever anything goes wrong. You’re the person I want to talk to.”

You move your hand forward to close the gap between you two, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it, “I’m really glad we have each other Spence.”

“Even when I beat you?” The playful glint in his eye is back.

“Even when you beat me.”

“If I remember correctly, and I usually do, you actually owe me for losing the bet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you said ‘I’m still betting you fail.’“

You smile, “We never agreed what we were betting.”

“We didn’t.”

"So what do you want as your prize then, Rudolph?”

“Rudolph?” He laughs a little, incredulously.

“Well I called you Bambi before and obviously you’ve proved you’re more talented, I needed to pick a respectably agile deer.”

“Rudolph was known for his nose, not his agility.”

“The song says he guided the sleigh Spence, he couldn’t have done that if he wasn’t agile.”

He shakes his head at you, “He was just in charge of the lights.”

“Did they or did they not get around the world safely?”

“The song never clarifies that.”

“It’d be a little dark for them to kill off Rudolph.”

“Probably why they didn’t include it in the song.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes, “Well anytime you decide to stop nitpicking my compliments and decide what you want as your prize is fine by me, honestly.”

He smiles, obviously having decided to answer you sincerely. You study him as he, presumably weighs up his options, his teeth momentarily catching his plush lower lip. You swear you see his eyes flicker to your mouth. But then you blink, and he’s studying you thoughtfully.

Just wishful thinking

"Caramel,” He settles on.

"Caramel?”

“Last year I went to this coffee shop and I got their festive caramel coffee. It was amazing. But they only did it that one year, they gave me the recipe for the syrup but...” He trails off, looking embarassed, and when he speaks again his voice is quieter, “I kept burning it. I had a thermometer but I couldn’t get the temperature quite right.”

"You want me to make you caramel syrup for coffee? Mixologist skills don’t extend quite that far?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead pressing his lips together in a thin line. Almost as if he’s worried for your reaction.

You're quick to follow yourself up, “Well I’d be happy to give it a try, but I think I’ll need somebody to taste test it. Make sure I’m getting it right.”

He grins, “I’m probably a better taste taster than maker.”

“Well, we’re off for a few days, assuming we don’t get any cases. You’re at Ethan’s for Christmas, right? When are you back?”

“The 27th. But I’m going to visit my mom over new years, so I’m leaving again on the 30th.”

You nod, “Well, how about the 28th?”

“The 28th sounds good.”

It’s impossibly good (bad) timing that the Uber pulls up outside your building.

“Well I’ll look forward to it,” You say, undoing your seatbelt.

“Me too.”

There’s a silence. Not uncomfortable, but definitely not like the one earlier. Your eyes linger on one another, almost cautious. There’s a buzz in the air, one that can't quite be attributed to alcohol.

Ask him what he meant by not like this

Ask him

“This your place?” The Uber driver asks, clicking his tongue with a degree of impatience.

“Yeah,” You reply, nodding. Reluctantly, you push open the car door, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Spencer as you depart.

His mouth hangs open a little, words seeming to play across his lips. Not making them out of his mouth. The driver clears his throat, and you throw him an apologetic glance. Spencer’s Uber rating will be in the toilet after this.

Good job he takes the Metro.

"Have a good Christmas Spence,” You say, wondering if he can tell. Wondering if he can sense how badly you want to stay, to let this Uber drive you around the backstreets of Virginia. They’re not particularly pretty. But there isn’t much you wouldn’t do just to spend time with him. You’d even allow yourself to promise caramel syrup you know you’ll butcher.

If he knows, the wistful look in his eyes doesn’t betray it.

“Have a good Christmas, _____.”

---

Next part: C is for Caramel

Series tagslist: @altsvu @reidingmelodies @muffin-cup @reidscanehand @bvttercupbby @jessicarabbit09 @lukewearingbeanies @lady-anon-x @aperrywilliams @southsidemistress @a-broken-pact @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits @reidsnose

(message me/reply to this to be added or removed!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #a-z of spencer reid #the a-z of spencer reid

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gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

Text

All Along

Young!Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: The moment your friends knew there was something more between you and Sirius.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of smoking, fluff

Drives. It was an unspoken tradition amongst countless others that you and your friends had created for yourselves. Every Saturday evening was reserved for a drive to wherever the road took you, most often leading to the open plains of the clearing you’d found by accident when searching for a place to camp—that or to the lake on the hottest summer days. They were always cathartic and fun, always an opportunity to roll down the windows and feel the wind on your skin, to sing to songs on the radio as you take turns driving down winding streets and back roads. And it was on one of those drives that they knew. James, Lily and Remus knew that there had been more than just a friendship and habit of bickering between you and Sirius.

The sun had nearly set into the horizon as Lily drove, the sky colored with the deepest shades of blues and oranges and the moon rising higher amongst the clouds. The air was warm yet the breeze was cool as it streamed through the open windows, sweeping over your skin and sifting through your hair. The radio was turned down, ABBA playing softly in the background now that Lily’s got control of the choice in music. James couldn’t complain, though, he’s got a soft spot for that band thanks to you and heard and he was itching to turn up the radio but he couldn’t. Not with three of his friends nearly out cold after a day at the lake.

It’d been a good day; any day spent with your friends was bound to be memorable, bound to be better than the last though you were beginning to think it couldn’t be possible. Even with Lily having brought up Sirius at least a dozen times, and James and Remus having brought you up, it was only a minor annoyance in the rest of your trip. It wasn’t really even annoying per say, not on their end. What had been was the inevitable smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth each and every time you’d heard his name, something promptly masked by an eye roll. The inevitable flush in his cheeks at the mention of you that’d been passed off as the summer heat with the addition of an aguamenti spell in retaliation.

Despite that obvious poking and prodding from your nosy friends, it was another moment spent that you’d come to cherish.

They knew—they all did. They knew there’d been something going on between the two of you and that was something that simply wasn’t up for argument. They weren’t sure when they’d come to that conclusion or even how, but they knew something was there, something was different.

Your friendship with Sirius had always been one that was never dull, and to someone who hadn’t been familiar with the pair, one might even say you hated each other. To be quite honest even your own friends had thought you seriously did by your sixth year. You were always arguing about something no matter how trivial and insignificant, though most all of them had been accompanied by smiles and eye rolls, laughter and huffs. You were always the one stealing the cigarettes right from his very lips and putting them out just for the sake of seeing him get annoyed. He knew the reasoning behind it very well, he could even see it coming, but he still couldn’t find it in him to keep you from doing it because your smile was far more worth it.

There were times when you’d actually get mad at the other, where the two of you wouldn’t speak because you both were too stubborn to admit when you were wrong. But everyone would notice that without fail, you would never go more than a day or two without speaking. Lily is fairly certain she’s never heard or seen either of you ever apologize, not once, more so a mutual forgiveness in the form of an eye roll and a smile that couldn’t be hidden a moment longer.

There are times when it always seems to be just the two of you. When you’d sit together in the Great Hall, and you’d walk to class. Even in the most crowded of rooms you could find your way to each other with a certain ease that had made it far too obvious to ignore. Even now at twenty years old, you both were still just the same.

But, most of the time it’d been an undeniably constant state of back and forth banter over things the three of them had started to tune out for the last three years. One of you always had something to say while the other always had a quick witted response lined up in return. Even that day, for that matter. The moment he’d stepped foot out of that lake he’d transformed, and it was all for the sake of shaking water onto you and your book just to hear you complain. He was a pain, really, but not enough to be able to stifle a laugh.

It was inherently obvious that there was more than just a mutual desire to get under each other’s nerves, there was more than just two friends who swore who could never quite see eye to eye on the most trivial of things. Their bets became abundantly clear.

It was James who had noticed it first on the drive home that evening. He’d gotten stuck in the middle in the back seat of Lily’s Volkswagen, Remus on one side and Sirius on the other. You had been sitting up front with Lily, on the brink of falling asleep in the passenger seat much like Moony had been. The trip had been much quieter than it had been earlier, the chaos having died down and making it far easier to notice the little things.

His best friend’s legs had been stretched across his lap haphazardly, head leaned back against the window as the steady breeze blew strands of black hair around his face. Sirius’ gaze had been focused out the window, at the darkened colors of the sunset and each and every time he blinked he swore his eyelids grew heavier. A smile was on his lips, one that was softer than James had ever seen his best friend have before. He didn’t know what the reasoning behind it was, though he had his guesses. But it was a question soon answered when his gaze cast downward.

There, grasped lightly within the raven haired boy’s hand had been your own that dangled comfortably tucked between your seat and the door. James couldn’t see it but he knew you’d had a smile to match Sirius, and he was right. Even half asleep you’d had a lingering smile on your lips when his fingers entwined with yours in a near featherlight touch at first, a grip that had tightened without being aware of it.

Perhaps the thing that made it most difficult for James to refrain from disruptively alerting his friend of the profoundly exciting event was the way he’d brushed his thumb over your hand. It was something so simple yet so wordlessly endearing, something much softer than he’d ever seen him do. It seemed to be something done without thinking about it; it was obvious that’d been just so and he was starting to wonder how many trips had the two of you done this very thing, how long it’d been that you’ve done this. Surely this wasn’t the first time.

In that moment James had swatted Remus’ shoulder, a finger raised to his own lips immediately after he’d stirred to quiet him down. It was then that he grasped his groggy friend’s attention and nodded in your direction.

“They’re holding hands!” He whispered.

“They’re what?”

James gave him a nudge when he tried to lean over him to see, risking a glance in the other direction to check if they’d been far too noticeable. Lily of course noticed—it wasn’t hard to see the two dorks having been up to something in the rear view but James would tell her later. It would be a difficult task to hold it in but he’d manage. But when Remus finally saw just what he’d been talking about his smile was immediate as he swatted at James.

They knew it was only a matter of time before it happened, they were just waiting for it to be so. You thought you had them fooled with every eye roll and every scoff, with every frown and every quip. Sirius thought he could hide behind witty comebacks and stares passed off into a joke about something having been on your face. Truthfully, you had gotten under the other’s skin a number of times. You very much mean it each and every time you say he’s a pain, and you’d steal his cigarettes and put them out a thousand times over just to hear him grumble. Just the same as he means to snatch your books from your hands and steal your sunglasses; he did it all just to see you smile and maybe, just maybe, to see that frown of yours that you don’t really mean.

But they knew. They knew better than to believe that you hadn’t fallen for one another, no matter how stubborn and absolutely mad you drove them with your antics. As you sat in the passenger seat with Sirius just behind you, hands loosely enveloped with the hopes that it just might go unseen—

They knew all along.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @gxtitobxby @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @dracosathenaeum @harrysweasleys @awritingtree @writeroutoftime @medalloway-blog

#sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #sirius black oneshot #sirius black imagine

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heartcal · 3 years

Text

“who do you believe?”; l.h.

Disclaimer: i didn’t want to write sierra as a bad person because i personally cannot see that, and i know there’s some discourse about her within in the fandom but i don’t want any of that here! so i named the girlfriend after a girl who bullied me in elementary school lol (but another disclaimer: i do not want to see any hate towards the boys’ s/o! pls don’t send any asks that talks bad about them, i will not answer them!)

thank you for requesting! :^)

a/n: while transfering this from microsoft word, the formatting kept screwing up for some reason so if there are some janky paragraphs, i apologize! not too comfortable with this one compared to my previous fic (this feels rushed) but it is long and i did not mean for that to happen lol. enjoy!

if there are any mistakes, please tell me!

pairing(s): not really a mention of luke hemmings x reader but it’s mostly luke hemmings x named gf (rachel/oc) (gender neutral but if i slipped up, please let me know!)

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

genre: angst, and mostly angst >:^)

warnings: swearing, luke’s gf being mean, bullying?

wc: 4,057 (she’s a long one)

my masterlist!

You don’t know when it happened, or frankly how it happened, but one thing is for sure: you don’t want to feel this way.

Was it when he bought you a stuffed animal version of a pet you had as a kid, one that you remember so fondly and still tear up about it to this day? Or was it when he would always bring back a certain candy you can only find in its country of origin, and bring as much as customs would allow? Maybe it was when he printed out every photo he could find from the beginning of your friendship to the present day (at that time) and made a scrapbook for your birthday since you cherish memories?

Whatever memory it was, you want to track it down and destroy it. It wasn’t fair that you developed such strong feelings for your best friend, knowing he doesn’t feel the same since he’s taken.

It’s not that he isn’t attractive – far from that because if anything, you wish you could draw just so you can draw him because there’s no way someone can look that good – but it’s more of the fact that he’s your best friend, someone you hold dear to you.

You two grew up together; saw each other’s worst phases, styles, and embarrassing moments (it was well documented towards the middle of the scrapbook). He was with you when you went through bad break-ups, and you with him. Throughout school, you two were inseparable, and when the band got big he made sure to keep you close and to never lose contact. It was hard in the beginning but you two managed.

Now finished with college, you’ve taken on the role of working with the team when they’re on tour and helping plan aesthetics for the next album. He offered the jobs after you struggled to find a job after graduation, and in the end, you enjoyed being with the guys and doing the tasks needed.

Tonight, the band was set to play their new album to an intimate crowd. It was to welcome back old fans and welcome new fans, introducing both sides to a new sound they worked hard on. You couldn’t be any more proud.

You sat on the couch as the guys walked around the room, pepping themselves up and hyping each other. You had finished doing your tasks with the crew and spent your free time watching the band prepare as the audience began to fill in the theater seats.

A nudge on your arm makes you direct your eyes from Michael styling his hair with a nervous expression to the person on your left.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling at the curly-haired individual.

Luke shrugs, glancing around the room before his eyes land back on you. He has a small smile on his face as he leans back onto the couch, “Nothing.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a smile, “Yeah, sure, ‘nothing,’” you mimic, tilting your head to the side, “I doubt that.”

“What do you want me to say?”

You give him an incredulous look, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. You can tell he’s nervous, like the rest of the team and the band, but he won’t admit it. He’s always wanted others to view him as strong and unbothered, especially when those around him feel off.

He mirrors your position, a smirk on his lips because he knows you’re about to lecture him.

And he’s right.

“Your band has a new album out in a couple of days—an album you guys have worked hard on even when your management gave you shit, mind you—and you’re about to perform a majority of the songs in front of 500. Are you not nervous?”

He shakes his head, smugly smiling as he returns to his position leaning against the couch, watching Ashton dry the wet ends of his hair.

“Liar,” you mumble, uncrossing your arms and taking your phone out to check the time.

“Alright,” Luke sighs, giving in, “maybe I’m a little nervous, but I’m not a wreck.”

He’s still a liar. The success of their last album was astounding, so creating an album to reach that level and hopefully top it was hard enough. Playing it in front of an intimate crowd who may or may not like it was tough.

Luke isn’t cocky. He’s a humble man, but he likes to joke around in stressful situations. He’s used to concerts, so he doesn’t have any anxiety when it comes to performing. But when he is nervous for any reason, he won’t show it. He’ll act cool, completely collected with his head held high in confidence. If he needs to relieve the stress, he’ll either do it himself with a strong pep talk, or he’ll go to you.

“What are you nervous about?” You ask, wanting to make him feel better.

“Will they like it? Will it even chart? Is it too bold?” he continues listing out his insecurities about the album and the performance, finally lifting everything off his chest.

And you listen. The way his eyes stare into yours with slight confidence, covered by worry makes your heart sore. Luke’s kept everything inside and now that he’s listing his grievances, it makes you wonder just what else you can get out of him that he’s kept buried inside.

However, before you can give him your insight on this particular problem, “Luke!”

His head immediately turns to the door, the worry in his eyes fading out into sheer happiness and adoration. Something you’ve always wanted to see directed towards you.

Luke stands arms wide as he captures his girlfriend in his arms for a hug. Her arms wrap around his waist as his arms go around her shoulders, dipping his head down to kiss her on the head.

“I can’t believe you made it!” you hear him speak with excitement, expressing more words of happiness as he guides her to another part of the room.

You don’t miss the way her eyes glare in your direction, and you’re not afraid to give her a look back.

Rachel was nice when you met her. You actually liked her, despite your crush on Luke, and you were rooting for the two. But, a couple months ago during a stressful week, she turned on you. Her attitude towards you shifted, almost as if you had disrespected her and her bloodline. She would always act as if you weren’t in the room, and when plans were made with the boys, she would “accidentally” leave you out. It was embarrassing for you when you’d find out your friends went out, calling you to find out why you didn’t come. Due to the embarrassment, you would go along with it, making up some excuse as to why you were absent.

None of the boys, to your knowledge at least, have caught on to her antics, and you honestly hope they don’t. Whatever it is you did to her, you want to find out for yourself so you can fix it.

With a sigh, you stand from the couch, stretching your arms briefly before wandering to Calum, who stood in the shower room connected to the dressing room.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile.

He smiles back, finishing his drink before tossing the plastic cup in the trash. He grabs his bass, which was placed on the counter, and holds it out to you.

“You want me to see if it sounds out of tune?” you jokingly ask.

He nods, “Yeah, I feel like one of the chords might be flat.”

You chuckle as you pluck a random chord. His instruments are always tuned before it’s time to play. One of his pre-show nervous ticks was the constant doubt of his instruments being playable.

“It’s fine, Calum.”

The doubt shows on his face as he brings his guitar back to himself, putting it on and checking the chords himself, but it doesn’t last long as Ashton’s voice calls everyone to the center of the room.

Walking with Calum to where the rest of the crew was, you notice how attached Luke was to Rachel. Joint at the hip, arms wrapped around each other; it was annoying.

“Show starts in ten,” Ashton gains your attention, holding up a cup as Michael hands Calum a similar cup before doing the same to Luke. The three follow the drummer’s action as he continues, “let’s make this show fuckin’ awesome.”

The crew cheers, dying down quickly as Michael gives his thoughts, “We worked our asses off for this album, I don’t have any doubts about it. We got this, guys!”

The cheers resume as those with a drink take a celebratory sip before placing their empty cup on a surface near them.

Calum leaves your side to join Michael while Ashton heads to you.

“You excited?” he asks, putting his right arm around your shoulders with a large smile.

“Yeah!” you return the smile, “What about you? Nervous like the others?”

He shakes his head, crinkling his nose, “I’m not too nervous. I’m just happy to play again.”

You’re about to ask him what song he was the most excited to play, starting to get into the conversation but yet again you are interrupted by Rachel.

“Hey, Ash,” she greets him, Luke following close behind her as his arms make their way back around her shoulders again.

“Hi, Rachel,” Ashton nods his head at her – his eyes dance to Luke briefly before returning to Rachel’s, “didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Couldn’t miss your big show,” she smiles, looking up at her boyfriend as she pats his stomach.

Luke laughs, gently pushing her hand away from him, “I’m surprised, too—“ he grabs the guitar a crew member hands him, left arm lifting itself from Rachel’s shoulder as he slips the strap over his head, “—because her schedule did not look clear enough, but here she is.”

“Three minutes,” a different crew member rushes out, patting Luke and Ashton’s shoulders before rushing to tell the others.

“See you after,” Luke shifts his guitar away from Rachel before leaning down to kiss her on the lips – something you wish you didn’t see – and turning around to head out of the dressing room.

Ashton gives you a quick hug, “Excited for the lights,” he mumbles in your ear before turning to Rachel to give her a side hug.

It doesn’t go unnoticed how Rachel’s eyes glared at you by Ashton, but he doesn’t mention it as he heads out with the other guys towards the stage.

As a majority of the crew follow them out, you stay behind to clean up the empty cups and other trash, trying to occupy yourself as Rachel too stayed behind.

Her eyes followed you as you moved about the room, carrying the small plastic bag with you as it fills up with cups and wrappers. You could feel the glare burning into your side and back as you paid her no mind.

When it was just you two left, the bass from their opening song was heard and felt as you finished picking up the garbage.

“For how long have you liked Luke?”

You froze. Your head whipped towards Rachel, wide-eyed as you glanced around the room to make sure it was just the two of you.

“What…what are you talking about?” You can feel an extreme warmth rising up from the bottom of your back, all the way to your face, nervousness clouding your brain as she stares you down.

“Luke—,” she crosses her arms and moves to the couch, “how long have you liked Luke?”

“I don’t—I,” you stutter, your stomach dropping as you realize you’ve been caught.

His girlfriend knows you like him.

“Cut the bullshit,” she spits, “I can see it. You’ve been friends with him for years, you obviously caught feelings for him.”

You shake your head, standing up straight to give off the illusion of confidence. Turning your back to her and towards the door, “I don’t have to talk to you.”

You opted for walking out of the dressing room and go watch the band from the side of the stage, but you made a quick stop in the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

You did what you could to avoid her during their performance. You knew she was watching you, seething at how you ended the conversation so fast.

Rachel wanted to break you down, find the reason why you like him and separate you two for as long as it takes to make him fall in love with her. She finds you a problem in their relationship because of how close you and Luke are, because of how long you’ve known each other. A threat to her and her relationship.

An hour and a half later, the show is finished and the whoops and cheers from the crowd indicate the album was very well received. That thought swept the interaction with Rachel from earlier under the rug as the boys’ adrenaline spread throughout the crew.

Ashton was first to greet you, sweaty and ready to envelop you in a hug but you’re quick to avoid it, ducking down just as his arms closed around the space where your head was. He laughs it off, heading for his next victim.

Next was Calum, who grabbed a drink from Andy and gulped it down. He had a smile on his face after, only growing wider when he saw you. “I think they liked it!”

“Bass in tune, huh?” you return, patting his back as he passes you to go to the next person.

Michael is the third, taking off his hat (which made you question why he was so worried about his hairstyle that he spent at least fifteen minutes playing with before the show). He stops in front of you, phone in hand as he takes a picture of the two of you: a tradition he started a few tours ago as a joke.

Finally, Luke makes his way towards you, ready to ramble about the show but is brisked away by Rachel. He doesn’t even glance over at you after he’s taken away towards the hall.

Entering the dressing room where the rest of the boys sat, you saw Michael talking animatedly on the phone, Calum laying across the couch with an arm over his eyes, and Ashton wiping off excess sweat with a towel. He was the first one to notice you.

“Ready for that hug?” he asks as you approach him.

“Why not.”

You hug each other, smiling as you pulled away. In the distance, over the cool-down music, you hear Luke’s laughter in the hall. Knowing he’s with Rachel makes you wonder if she’s told him about her suspicions, and that thought alone makes you clam up all over again.

Ashton immediately notices, tilting his head as he asks you what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” you quickly reply, eyes focusing on him.

He notices how jittery you seem, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he says nothing.

“Guys,” Andy comes in with his camera in hand, “we need to take a few photos.”

The three agree and follow the photographer out. You move to the snack table for a bottle of water, but before you can take a sip, someone clears their throat in the doorway.

You roll your eyes immediately because you know who it is. You don’t pay her any attention and instead take the sip of water you need.

“We need to finish that conversation you oh-so rudely ended,” Rachel moves into the room, keeping her voice down as she crosses her arms.

“We don’t need to finish anything.”

She scoffs, “I asked you a question, and you were so quick to avoid it. I think you’re proving a point.”

“What point?” you turn to look at her, “I know you don’t like me but I don’t know why, can we start with that?”

“Like I said before, I know you like Luke. He’s my boyfriend, and I don’t like how he’s close to you.”

“We grew up together,” you state, standing tall as you glare at her, “of course we’re going to be close.”

“Well I don’t like it,” she huffs.

You shake your head with a sigh, closing the lid to the bottle as you turn your back to her. You were getting angry at the fact that someone who didn’t know Luke as long as you did was hinting that you should stay away from him.

“Stop hanging out with him.”

A curt laugh escapes you before you can stop it, “Are you jealous of our friendship?”

“No,” she smirks, “but I know you’re jealous of our relationship.”

She’s right; you’re only a little jealous of their relationship, but it’s not something you want to risk your friendship with.

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but you’re caught off-guard when nothing comes out. The one opportunity to make her believe you don’t like her boyfriend and you can’t say anything.

Giving up with sinking shoulders, you glance at the door before looking back at her. Grimacing at her knowing smile, “How did you find out?”

She hums, “It was easy. I love him, so I know what it looks like to look at someone you love. You made it so obvious, I’m surprised no one else found out!”

You grit your teeth. You did your damn best to make sure no one, especially Luke or Rachel, know how you feel about him.

“I’m not intimidated by you,” she walks closer to you, arms uncrossing as her hands move to her hips, “but I won’t deny the fact that you and Luke have chemistry.”

“What will it take—” you place the bottle back on the table, “—for you to leave me alone?”

“Do the same to him.”

“What?”

“Leave him alone, unfriend him,” she shrugs, “simple as that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you walk around her to the door, ready to end the conversation.

“Do that or I’ll tell him,” with a harsh tone she walks towards you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” another voice from the doorway makes the two of you jump, “that’s enough.”

Ashton walks into the room, grabbing Rachel’s hand and removing it from your arm.

“W—” she stutters out as she watches the tall man move to stand in front of you.

“I came back for my drumsticks—” his eyes shift to the object sticking out of his bag before dropping down to Rachel, “—but instead I find you, what, threatening a good friend of ours?”

Rachel is speechless while you’re frozen. It was embarrassing enough for one person to find out about your crush on Luke, but now Ashton might know and you want to go into hiding.

“Let it go,” you tug on Ashton’s shirt to get his attention but he doesn’t move.

“Telling someone who’s known your boyfriend longer than your relationship to just abandon him is low, Rachel. Don’t think the way you’ve been treating our friends has gone unnoticed.”

You hear more footsteps approaching the room, and now you wish the ground can swallow you up. You don’t want all this attention on you.

“What’s happening here?” Michael says as he peeks into the room, Luke behind him as Calum leans against the other side of the doorway.

“Nothing—,” Rachel tries to deflect but with four pairs of eyes on her, it becomes too much. Tears start pouring out, and you’re in disbelief.

How can she be the one crying after she was the one who was rude to you?

Luke immediately rushes in, creating a beeline right to her side to wrap her in his arms.

His eyes dart to yours, an emotion on his face of something you’ve never seen, but you know it’s not good.

“What did you do?”

You’re taken back by his tone and the way his angry eyes stare you down. It hurts because instead of staying neutral and finding out what exactly happened, he immediately chose a side: a side of someone he’s known for only for a short amount of time.

“Mate,” Ashton speaks up for you, “I think you’re asking the wrong person that.”

“No,” Luke’s voice raises, eyes moving from yours to stare into his band mate’s, “I’m asking the right person.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes welling with tears as the weight of everything happening within the last ten minutes starts to bring you down. Your eyes move away from the ones boring into yours, and with a tremble in your voice, “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one who started—.”

“Bullshit!” Luke’s roar cuts you off, “Absolute bullshit, because if she started it, then why is she the only one crying?!”

The two other guys move in to the room to mediate the situation.

“Luke, calm down,” Michael’s hands raise to the motion of ‘calm down’ as he tries to get Luke’s attention.

“There’s gotta be more to the story,” Calum moves to your side, checking on you briefly.

“Don’t,” Luke states as he watches Calum grab your shoulders to move you out of the room.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Ashton questions. He watches Luke soothingly rub Rachel’s back, wiping her tears with his free hand.

“My girlfriend is crying and you two were the only ones in here,” Luke replies, gently grabbing Rachel’s arms so he can look directly into her eyes, “what happened, babe?”

“I asked them—,” Rachel sniffles, continuing her façade, “—if they needed any help cleaning the room earlier and they yelled at—at me and told me to go away. Then after the show when you guys went for your photos, I came here to apologize to her, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She was selling it; the tears, the sniffling, the stutters, and hiccups. A great actress who knows what she wants.

“That’s not true,” you inhale, your ears feeling warm and ringing, “she has had a problem with me lately and I don’t know why!”

Luke scoffs, shaking his head, wrapping Rachel in his arms again.

“C’mon,” Michael mumbles, wanting to leave the room.

Ashton turns around, watching your face go from pleading to blank as the tears fall from your eyes. He turns his head to face Luke, “You’re unbelievable,” he grabs your shoulders and starts to move you out of the room, “let’s go.”

Michael is already out of the room, the tension too much for him and ruining the after-show vibe. Calum is waiting by the door ready to help lead you out. Ashton has you turned around, pushing you towards the door.

“Wait, Luke,” you mumble, getting out of Ashton’s hold and turning back to face Luke.

He doesn’t look at you, sighing as he rubs Rachel’s head as it’s against his chest.

“Please,” you plead, begging him to look at you and when he does, you ask, “who do you believe?”

“What?”

“Who do you believe, Luke,” you gulp with a sniffle, “me or her?”

For a moment, you think you see hesitation. His jaw tenses as he stares you down, his best friend for years and someone he turned to when times got tough. He then looks down at the girl in his arms, someone he loves crying into his chest.

He sighs again, this time soft, before looking up to meet your eyes. He does notice the tears, the pain etched on your face as his other best friends watch them. “I believe Rachel.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Ashton mutters as he gently grabs your shoulders again to lead you out of the room.

You let the tears fall freely, not meeting any of the boys’ eyes as you kept your head face down.

You’ve lost your best friend. He chose someone else over you, a lie he chose to believe.

Whatever it was that made you catch feelings for your best friend, you wish you can find it and destroy it, along with any other memory you’ve made with him. After tonight, you want him erased from your cherished memories.

---

part two!

#5sos imagines #5sos blurbs #5sos drabbles #5sos one shots #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer blurbs #5 seconds of summer one shots #5 seconds of summer drabbles #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings blurbs #luke hemmings drabbles #req #5sos preferences #5 seconds of summer preferences #5sos imagine #5sos preference #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer preference

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butterbeerblurbs · 3 years

Text

feeling heavy in the strongest arms (f.w.)

💌 : today, your heart felt exceptionally heavy. fred holds your heart gently in his hands, willing to keep you in his arms even if he doesn’t know why you feel that way. as long as it makes you feel a little bit better, that was all fred was willing to take.

📝 word count: 1,786 words / fred weasley x reader / 🌸 ☔️ pretty sad feels but somewhat comforting...? idek

💬: i just pictured, this could be one of the way fred could comfort y/n when she’s feeling upset and there’s no direct reasoning (also bc i see fred as someone who’s sensible to someone’s emotions, especially someone he’s infatuated with ;w;)

from the moment fred’s eyes landed on you in the great hall to start off his morning, something didn’t quite sit right. sure, you gave him the usual smile that sends the tingles down his spine and the burst of warmth gently combusts within when he’s able to spare you a kiss on your cheek as you take your spot next to him but... still, something’s not right.

“g’morning pretty lady,” fred tries the playful method and anticipates for the usual look of “fake” disgust. it doesn’t happen. instead he gets a small smile, a chuckle, even though he feels like that’s the last thing you want to be doing.

“good morning, freddie,”

yet, fred doesn’t think it’s all that good.

he lets it slide, deciding not to bring it up in the morning when... maybe, just maybe, you didn’t sleep well? he’s hoping for that to be the case (because then it’s another excuse to take a nap together) but... no. when hermione asks if you slept well, you said you slept like a baby. you slept through angelina’s bloody snoring. that only meant you did sleep well.

if it’s not sleep then... hm... could it be-”oi, what are you doing? thinking about eating your own girlfriend for breakfast instead of what’s in front of you?”

fred turns to a mirror of himself, raising a brow with a smirk, “do you really want me to answer that, georgie?”

george gags and looks away, “merlin, you’re going to make me vomit out what i just ate,”

fred hears your voice laughing at what you’ve managed to hear between him and his twin. but when he glances back and locks eyes with you for a moment, he still doesn’t buy that everything’s alright.

said ginger boy is still confused as the day continues.

he’s had hours to ponder upon this and the more he observes from you, the more confused he gets. his answers doesn’t match up with the way you were acting (yes, he has been staring at you for a rather long time than doing actual work). it’s like... you were fine? but not really? fine to the eyes of the public, tip-top shape but... nothing about you gets past fred weasley.

absolutely nothing. not when he’s spent days upon months that gathered into the years of learning about you, still surprising himself how much he’s able to love you more each day.

this... this was new.

he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. he’ll continue thinking about it if it wasn’t for-”mr. weasley, maybe you’ll be able to produce something of worth if you actually did the work,” snape’s voice stiffen’s fred’s spine, and snape’s hand physically pushes the nape of his neck down to get to work.

he’ll get down to this soon enough... after potion’s, it seems.

surprisingly, fred manages to complete the task just in time for snape to barely let him scrape out of his classroom. fred anticipates he’ll have to rush after you as he collects his things but-”you alright, freddie?”

that voice makes him almost drop his book, missing his bag by an inch as he snaps his head towards the source of who that voice belonged to.

he gapes when you’re standing in front of him with a small smile, books to your chest and bag over your shoulder. you came to check up on him. even when it seems like the world has been unfairly cruel to you, you, still proved the world wrong with such kindness fred thinks you must be an actual angel.

“y-y/n,” he gapes, and that’s starting to-”you’re scaring me, freddie, are you alright?”

he runs his hand through his hair and stares at you, bewildered. however, he is thankful that the room is now empty as the remaining couple of students flutter out. “how?”

he hates how you look genuinely confused as your brows knit together, a pout forming whenever you felt unsure about something.

“h-how what?”

“how could you ask me that? how?” he shoves his book into his bag and leaves it on the stool, now both hands freely extending towards you to give you a gentle shake by your sides, “how can you ask me that when you’re the one not feeling okay?”

like a switch, fred watches as the facade you’ve been putting up all morning seems to crumble. he notices it starts with your breath hitching, which then slowly trails off to how your eyes appear sharp, suddenly blurry with the tell-tales of tears glassing over. fred could see himself frowning in them, and he absolutely hates the gut-wrenching feeling that swallows him whole.

even when you’re about to cry, there’s still a smile on your face.

“i-i can’t seem to hide anything from you, huh fred weasley?”

fred takes this moment to slip your books past your hands, nudging them onto the table. you allow your bag to slip from your shoulders as he tries to keep you close. and he doesn’t know if he’s doing that for your sake, or his.

“i... i feel heavy, freddie,” your voice barely makes it out to him, but it does. and each word is breaking his heart as he watches you try to explain your feelings that you weren’t completely sure of yourself. “it’s like... there’s a weight on my heart, pressing me down and i-”you lick your lips, tasting the saltiness trickling down you cheeks-”-i... feel so heavy, my heart feels so heavy,” you’re clutching onto the fabric of your robe directly above your heart, “it hurts so much, and i don’t even know why,” your voice is strained, stretched out across acres of trying to figure out why you feel like this but to no avail.

“i was feeling okay when i woke up this morning,” your lips are quivering at this point, sniffing as the tears can’t seem to stop, “why does it feel like my world has turned upside down all of a sudden?” fred knows you’re not asking him for the answer, rather, if there was a cruel higher up that was playing mind games with you, that was surely where your questions were directed to.

“i-i have everything, maybe not everything entirely but i should be happy,” you breathed in and out heavily, feeling your knees shaking, “and i am, genuinely am, but today,” fred doesn’t know since when you were out of breath, “m-my heart aches so much,”

fred flinches when you blink up to him, tears falling like your heart at the unexplainable weight that made its way without you noticing. he holds you tight, almost crushing you as he keeps you close to him like it’s the only thing he knows how to comfort you now. your hands don’t even make it around him, only going so far up to his waist to clutch onto the material of his robe hanging by his sides. he closes his eyes and gently strokes the back of your head, attempting to ease your sobs against his chest. he’ll willingly soak all of your tears, sadness, any ill feelings if he could. but knowing he can’t, if this could make you a little bit better or ease just a portion of the weight you were feeling, that’s as much as he’s grateful for.

it feels like an eternity ticked by but in reality it’s a mere ten minutes. your erratic breathing has calmed down from the nosedive of emotions you displayed that it’s starting to make you blush a little. fred only notices this when you’ve gone extremely quiet. he leans back just a little to peek at you, not only with red puffy eyes but also red cheeks.

“what’s the matter, love?” he asks softly, dipping down to get a glance at your eyes that seem too shy to meet with his now.

“i... i’m sorry, this was a lot to take in and... i just realised how much it was,” your tone was different this time. it registered to fred that... this was a tone he recognized. one of your hands remain holding to his robe, while the other reaching up to lightly punch his chest.

it may sound ridiculous but fred could hear yourself coming back. he could feel the aura around your changing.

“don’t tell me you’re sorry, y/n. you’re absolutely mad if you feel that now,” he raises a brow at you, “after all you just said? and cried? are you crazy?”

that makes you giggle - a genuine one, fred thinks - hands gingerly crawling around him to finally return the long-awaited hug.

“well... it’s... it’s not everyday you suddenly have to deal with your girlfriend bursting into tears and have no specific reason for it,” your voice is still raspy and sore from all the crying, but fred could pick out the syllables that gesture to him sonically that you were feeling better.

“i’d gladly take all of that in if it means i’m helping you overcome it,” he proudly puffs his chest out with that grin on his face but it also makes your heart swell at how much love you could feel he’s pouring just from the way he’s staring at you.

“thank you, freddie,” you lean forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, cheek against his chest. you can hear him smile as he squeezes you, then sway your bodies idly as he hums back, “don’t need to thank me, love,”

as the pair of you stay like that in silence (only for a few more minutes before you’d have to hurry along for the day), it’s like there’s an understanding that fred can’t possibly lift the weight up entirely for you. these were your emotions, after all.

but that doesn’t mean fred can’t stay with you as you get through them.

hand in hand, chest to chest.

((”promise if you want to cry, you’ll come to me? or at least, come see me after?” fred didn’t give you room to answer as he squishes your cheeks, towering over you with concerned eyes even though you're laughing, “yes, love? is that a yes? if you’re laughing like a goddess sent from above, i’ll take that as a yes!”

he was having a bit of trouble trying to push your cheeks together when you were grinning so wide, it’s making his heart do somersaults. not even the groaning of people at the common room could divert him away. (the both of you were, afterall, just mere steps away from them when you’re just by the stairs)

“yes, freddie, promise.”

“atta girl.” he winks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he watches you go up to your room.))

#fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fic #harry potter fanfics #fred weasley imagines #fluff #angst

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yuzukult · 4 years

Text

from home 05 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in later chapters word count: 7.5k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: i was really excited to write this chapter and i still couldn’t get myself to make it longer... :( i suck...

please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2 @taestannie @teresaisla @drumsofheaven @vampgguk @christiandosworld @madjammil @jungkookieyoongs @bananagguknim @shuttheelleup @yobroitsjayden

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Stating that Jungkook was 'on edge' is an understatement.

His palms and armpits were sweaty from the moment he arrived at your apartment to grab you before going to meet your parents, despite the amount of layers of deodorant he has on. He's never had a real relationship before, let alone met any girl's parents, and he can't help but feel something churning in his gut. "Good to go?" You ask, and he merely nods, suddenly bashful because he feels like he is definitely not ‘good to go.’ "Alright, let's head out."

The ride on the bus to your family home is only 30 minutes away, and truthfully, he has never ridden on one before. Walking to yours, Hoseok, and his home were less than 15 minutes, the thought of taking the bus being the absolute last thing on his mind.

Jungkook isn't exactly sure how he feels about the bus. The constant starting and stopping makes him nauseous; then the unsteadiness of having to hold the bars and handles throughout the vehicle all around seems unsafe. When there's an available seat, you sense his fear, nudging him cautiously, gesturing him to take the seat. "Sit," and granting he wants to offer it to you instead, Jungkook complies to the demand because he swears he's going to vomit.

After getting off the public transportation that he vows to never take again, you guide Jungkook through a narrow road, he notices the neighborhood here was more concentrated than the ones in Busan; tightly knitted with homes that stacked on top of one another, side to side, and back to back. People hung their clothes on lines that stretch from apartment to apartment, piles of boxes stored on balconies, and plants resting on the borders with owners sitting idle on their porches, fixated on their hobby of people watching.

Jungkook is known to be popular to the public, from magazines, gossip TV channels, social media posts, and the types continue on to the point that you couldn’t name them all on your own ten fingers. People don't often recognize him on the streets anymore because he's unrecognizable in regular everyday clothes but today, he learns that you're the celebrity.

The people in their homes say their greetings, making comments here and there as you entertain them with a response back, laughter dispersing in the air. There's an old lady that lounges on the steps of her home, a smile stretched so wide that her eyes disappear, all with a blanket laying across her lap, knitting away. "I haven't seen you around, I assume your mother is having a dinner party for the kids? I see you brought a friend!"

"Something along those lines," you retort indirectly, nose snug into your scarf. "You're not staying indoors? It's cold out."

"My husband keeps the heater on the home too high, I sweat like I'm going through menopause like I’m forty all over again, so I much rather be outside here. Anyways, I don't want to hold you up too long, but please come by for Christmas, I do have a sweater I knitted for you as well!"

Then there's a grandfather, another grandmother, and a couple who seems just a bit older than the two of you, and the list just goes on. Despite the whisper exchanges at the supermarket mentioning that you're intimidating, mean, and scary, it's obvious that you aren't or else you wouldn't be swooning the hearts of these strangers.

But there will always be an exception. Especially when the two of you run into a girl who looks close in age, hair dyed blonde with her lips painted fusion red. He could tell how curvy she was with how tight the winter coat hugs her frame, swaying her hips toward your direction as she eyes you both suspicious. "I see our town loser brought a friend."

"Mm," You nod, attempting your best not to amuse her, or else you’d be pouncing on her back by now. "Jungkook, this is Somin. A classmate of mine when I was in grade school." He bows in politeness, zipping up his jacket further while stepping closer to you. "Nice to meet you, Somin."

"Oh, no!" She gasps, a hand on her chest in exaggeration, completely flabbergasted by something he said. "Don't call me that. I go by Bella, since... you know, I am an American now. Being an American deserves the right name."

"You got your citizenship there?"

"No, but, I spent enough time there to know." She grins, shrugging her shoulders. Spent enough time there—you want to call out on her bullshit yet again, knowing she barely spent a month there before dropping out of school and coming back, but it'd be humiliating to mention that with Jungkook standing by, a stranger that she had only met a mere few seconds ago. "You said Jungkook... Are you perhaps, Jeon Jungkook of the Jeon Corporation?"

You furrow your brows. "How do you even know that?"

"Well, daddy invests in their stocks, of course." Fluttering her lashes, she manages to make her presence known to Jungkook as she moves in his direction. "And I saw his pretty little face in a magazine and couldn't help but admire."

Possessively, your hand slips into his pocket, intertwining your fingers together, causing warmth to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. "Well, great to see you, Somin. Jungkook and I have dinner plans with my parents."

"Whoa, wait, dinner plans?" Somin nearly exclaims, shifting aside to block your way. "Also, it's Bella, get that straight, will you? And why is Jeon Jungkook with you anyway?"

"We're dating," Jungkook interjects, clearing his throat. The words are still unfamiliar on his tongue yet he loves to flaunt them anyway. "I'm her boyfriend." He adds, tightening the grip on your hand as if Somin could see it. Her mouth drops open, unable to grasp onto the fact that you were able to land on a hunk like him. If only she knew how much knowledge of basic life skills he didn't have... actually, she might still have the same perspective. "There's no way. This is fake, right? You realize how rude she is, don't you?"

"No, it’s not fake, and well, kind of," Jungkook admits, scrunching up his nose at the thought. "But it's endearing. Wouldn't be as exciting if she wasn't always trying to banter with me, so I don't think I'd have it any other way. People mistake it for her honesty. I love a woman who can be true to herself and genuine with her words."

Just then, your mother peeks out of the front door of your childhood home, waving her arm eagerly, calling out your name. "Well, that's our cue. Thanks, Somin, for congratulating us on our new relationship. Hope you find someone yourself soon!"

"What—" Somin barely finishes her sentence before you're zooming past her, tugging Jungkook along.

"I didn't know you had so many enemies," Jungkook says jokingly, a playful smile upon his lips. You roll your eyes before squinting them at him, squeezing his hand hard as he winces. "Now you know how little I care for them, watch out because you might become one."

Upon entering the home, Jungkook observes too many things at once. Your mother is in the kitchen, frantically maneuvering through the junk that your family has hoarded over the years, searching for whatever it is she needs for the task at hand. Your father sits comfortably on the couch, feet on the coffee table with a controller in hand, dozing off with a combination of quiet and loud snores escaping from him. As a family home, Jungkook believes it's small considering that you had mentioned previously that you had two other siblings. To think that your parents are still living in the same home they grew up in is amazing to him, knowing that his parents moved at least five times within his youth while you only stayed in one home.

"Uh, hello," He greets your mom, bowing as she places her hands onto his shoulders, shaking him in excitement. She looks almost like a replica of you, except older and much brighter. "You must be Jungkook! It's so great to meet you, I'm so happy that my daughter found someone. She's known to be a bit... cold, so knowing that you were able to warm her up means that you're definitely special!"

"You make me sound like a bad guy." You hiss before your little sister walks in, in the midst of tying her hair up into a ponytail. She resembled your mother than you did, a delighted expression that matched exactly the one your mother had on. "That's because you are, and any guy who dates you seem to run away once they find out." She halts in her steps when she notices Jungkook's face. "Oh my god, you're that model."

"Model?" Your mother reiterates, glancing back at Jungkook and then your sister. "Yeah, yeah, that model in the new edition of Elle. He was in it—he's listed as one of the 10 most desirable men under 30. No flipping way, how'd you even get him to even date you?" She pauses before pointing at Jungkook with a suspicious look on her face as his eyes widened. "Unless... you need her for something. What's she offering? It can't be her body, she's not sexy... is it her brains? You heard about her—"

"Miyoung." Your mother says sternly, interrupting your sister. "Just because Jungkook is a model, it doesn't mean that your sister is incapable of being loved by a man like that."

"Actually—"

"Oh, hey. You must be the boyfriend." A taller male enters the room, his hair messy and lids hooded from waking up barely minutes before. He's still in his pajamas, a loose grey shirt and red checkered pants, but from the outline of his shirt, Jungkook could tell this guy was built. "I'm Daehyun, also known as their big brother. It's nice to meet you." Jungkook is in awe, hand extending to shake with Daehyun's. He knows he's straight, but even as a straight guy he knows a pretty man when he sees one.

Jungkook was starting to pick up as to why your exterior was so tough. With a younger sister who didn't have a filter to an incredibly handsome older brother, of course as the middle child you had to protect yourself. "Uh, yeah. And that's my little sister, Miyoung, who basically just attacked me for all of my insecurities within a minute. Thanks, kiddo."

"No problem, Unnie." She grins cheekily, seated on the high stool. "Did mom tell you I was back home from college for the weekend? That's why you're here?"

"Something like that," you respond ominously, hanging up your jacket along with Jungkook’s. Despite her preceding interrogation, she’s chewing on her bottom lip skittishly. "More like she forced me to come. Well, she didn't say anything yet but I felt a guilt trip coming so I just decided that I would come instead."

"Typical," Daehyun scoffs, leaning against the wall beside Miyoung. He sneaks a glimpse into the kitchen where your mother secretly runs back into, resuming in her work. "She's been desperate to get us all back together since the two of you moved out. Remind me again why I'm the only one stuck here?"

"Because you can't find a job." Miyoung and you remind him in unison and he frowns. The interaction between the three of you is crystal clear evidence that you guys are related. "Well, geez, hurt a guy, why don't you? See what I have to deal with, Jungkook?"

With some time left until dinner, the four of you crowd at your small dining table, conversing away about updates in your lives. Miyoung is in University an hour away from home, residing there for an easier commute, and Daehyun stays at home with an ambition to find a job that fits his degree. Daehyun still dates from time to time but he admits that he can’t tend to his needs because well, his mother is a room away, and oddly enough, albeit Miyoung babbles on about other things, she’s silent about her love life. Neither Miyoung and Daehyun are able to hold a steady job, he observes, and he’s starting to pick up as to why you’re so adamant about keeping both of yours. Jungkook learns that everything seems to gravitate toward one of the two phrases from your siblings when it comes to finances and they are: “Mom can handle it,” or “I’m going to let Dad do it so I don’t have to.”

From what Jungkook can gather, your siblings seemed to have different outlooks on life compared to you—they still depended on their parents whilst you were already hunting for opportunities of your own before Miyoung’s age so you didn’t have to ask for money.

“Are you still upset with me about what happened a year ago?” Miyoung finally asks you, chewing on her nails nervously. It seems to be something she’s been holding back from you, Jungkook takes a note of the way her eyes were filled with worry. “Of course,” You reply nonchalantly, leaning back against your seat with your arms crossed. “How could I not be? But you’re my sister, so I can’t actually be mad at you.”

Miyoung begins to tear up— glassy gaze with her bottom lip quivering, in spite of the previous aggressiveness she presented when you first entered the house. Before Miyoung could get another word in, your mom comes in with a guilty expression on her face. She calls your name faintly, a pout upon her lips. “Can you and Jungkook go out and grab me a couple things before dinner?”

Jungkook can’t get the question that Miyoung brings up out of his mind. In the middle of an aisle at another one of his mother’s grocery stores, your lips are pursed in thought at which brand of soy sauce would your mom like more.

“What was Miyoung going on about?” He eventually asks, but he holds his breath in case you decide to sock him for querying you about something so personal. Strangely enough, you open up. “Miyoung fell in love with my ex. He told me they didn’t do anything but he was in love with her, so we broke up. I thought I was going to settle with him but— guess not.”

Jungkook’s eyes expand like a deer in headlights. “Your little sister is dating your ex-boyfriend? And they were in love with each other during your relationship? I would’ve given her an uppercut if I were you— are you seriously still buying the banana milk she asked for?” He’s trailing behind you as you lead him toward the drinks; your face brightening from the lights from the fridges. How could someone who lost their boyfriend to their little sister seem so put together in the first place? Was this was Hoseok was talking about that your men streak was horrendous?

“Because she’s my little sister. At the end of the day, I want her to be happy.” Throwing a pack into the cart, Jungkook continues to push it while following you, mind still foggy and angry about the situation. Here you were, with a guy who you’d fallen in love with to the point of considering settling down, then finding out he’s been in love with your sister... he feels like this is all a fever dream and isn’t an ounce real. “You’re fucking with me right?”

You look at him with perplexity. “What do you mean?”

“This sounds crazy. You’re serious? Miyoung stole a guy from you and you’re just going to be the bigger person here and not do anything about it?”

“What am I supposed to do? Throw a tantrum? Get in the way of their relationship that is obviously blossoming in a good way?”

Jungkook pauses. Was this what it was like in another family? Or at least yours?

In comparison, he perceives that within his family, outbursts were everything. Getting attention and being recognized for any wrongdoing was immensely important— he knew that if he stole a girl away from one of his brothers, he wouldn’t make it out of the house alive. His mother, including father, would never forget it. The chattering would be heard through the grapevine amongst the housemaids, drivers, and employees of the company. Even news media outlets would dabble a bit into the family drama, adding fuel to the fire. He could never react the way you did, at least, he hopes he would, but realistically speaking, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it.

Yet, with you, it seemed simple enough. Sure, your heart was broken, but how were you going to be with someone who didn’t love you back?

“If you love someone, you let them go.” You say calmly when Jungkook doesn’t respond back. “Keeping them around for your benefit doesn’t solve anything. If he wasn’t truly happy with me, I want him to be happier with someone else. And if that person so happens to be with Miyoung, what am I supposed to do?”

“But... you’re not happy.” Jungkook declares with no hesitation. He recalls the time where you felt bad for him for not having the best upbringing, and he’s starting to understand the emotion that ran through you. “I’m happier now,” You concede, placing the last ingredient your mom has on the list for you to purchase, turning your back at Jungkook. “Now that I met you.”

His heart flutters at the comments, and he’s desirous about bringing up the topic of the kiss again. Jungkook resists the urge to because he could tell from the way your silhouette begins to quicken its pace toward the checkout line that you really didn’t want to talk about it.

When the two of you arrive back at your house, your father is jolted awake. Jungkook greets himself to the elder man who only grins brighter than the sun—something Jungkook is trying to grasp where your grumpiness comes from— and instantaneously directs him to the dinner table where your mom has a ton of side dishes laid out with six place settings for you all.

During the meal, there was nothing but exchanging stories, laughter, and elation that swarms the room. If this was what family meant, Jungkook wanted it. And the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it to be with you.

Nothing is working out for Jungkook.

This week, the pipe in his apartment burst. Something about— it’s winter and when it’s cold, the water freezes within the pipe and it expands the material, causing the pipe itself to burst, he doesn’t quite understand how the whole plumbing system works, but he knows that he can’t use the water in his apartment and has to go to yours and Hoseok’s for the week for a shower until the landlord can get it fixed.

Then, one of the deli guys called off because he apparently had the runs which meant that there was a shift change— Jungkook having to cover since whomever was working that day didn’t have the skills to do it.

Skills? Jungkook curses underneath his breath when he recites that word in his head repeatedly because he cuts his finger on the meat slicer as he winces, calling out your name. Coming to his side, you pull out the first aid kit and force him to sit down on one of the stools, tying elastic on a higher point of his finger to stop the blood from gushing out. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just... I didn’t need to be put here, right? Someone else could’ve done this, I have no idea how to use a slicer.”

“I know,” You coo, wiping some of the antiseptic on the wound as he whimpers at the sudden sting. “The new shift manager panicked, she wasn’t sure what to do since the guy with the actual food preparation license is going to be here a bit late so she put you here. Not exactly the best plan.” After bandaging him up, you wash your hands underneath the faucet as Jungkook slouches in the seat.

Nothing really was going his way.

It doesn’t even stop there. Unexpectedly, his mother calls for dinner but you’re on shift, therefore you wouldn’t be able to attend. He’s tempted to down a glass of whiskey on ice, his signature drink, but when he opens the cabinet in his kitchen, he falters at the image of your face. Would you be disappointed if you saw what he was doing? And Hoseok? What would he say?

Retracting his hand back, he immediately slams the door shut at the thought of the consequences.

Dinner is the usual at the Jeon residence. Father sits at the end of the dining table, the typical beige cloth napkin spread across on his lap while in his usual work attire, glasses rested on the tip of his nose as he’s ready to dive in with a fork and spoon in hand. Mother is settled beside him, pretty as ever and calm in comparison to the hell that’s going to let loose in a couple minutes. The unknown? Who is going to blow up this time and who will they be comparing themselves to?

The answer? Jongseok and Jungkook.

Jongseok is upset to the point that he articulates every word with spit nearly projecting from his mouth to the opposite side of the room. The vein on his temple is stressed to the point that all Jungkook can think about is when it’s going to pop. “Why are you guys always babying Jungkook? You realize the kid is fucking working at a grocery store right? And not just any grocery store, either, but it’s mother’s chain.”

“Okay?” Father retorts, forehead wrinkling in puzzlement. “Isn’t he trying to prove himself worthwhile? Didn’t he find that job himself, despite it being your mother’s chain? He’s paying for his mistakes, learning basic life skills along the way, and even landed himself a serious girlfriend who can hold his hand through these tough times, since, after all, you’re the one who suggested we cut him off. If I’m being honest, I think we should give him access to our funds again.”

A scoff of incredulity comes from Jongseok. He’s a ticking time bomb in this moment; jaw twitching in frustration with the tips of his ears heated red. Even though he’s the target yet again, Jungkook is sober now, mind clear of the fog and the ability to defend himself for once. “I don’t get it. Why are you even mad at me? I’m trying here, right? You’re the one who wanted me to get cut off so desperately— and congrats, by the way, because I did. I had to find a job myself, one I’m not a fan of, and I’m barely making it by. I lost water in my apartment this week, cut my hand on one of those deli slicers, sprained my ankle on my way to work— and that’s only a portion of my bad week. Yet here I am, sitting at the dinner table with people who claim that they love me when you’re here flipping shit at father. What do you want from me?”

“For your name to be completely off the will.” Jongseok finally says what he has been actually feeling unperturbedly, not an ounce of affection in his tone with a gaze that could pierce through Jungkook. “You have nothing to offer to this family. Why we keep you around— I don’t know. Why should you have any portion of our estate and company assets when all you’re doing right now is working at the supermarket. Tell me, Jungkook, why do you deserve to be part of any of this?”

Jungkook hates how childish he’s being, but he feels like he has the right to. The flickering colorful lights and music booming through the speakers of the club are tuning out the words his brother exclaims at his parents, and the amount of alcohol passing through his lips are numbing the pain that tears through his chest. Your face pops up in his head; your laugh, your smile, and the comfort in the underlying messages through your tough love— he wishes that all of that was enough to heal the sting in his heart and fill the hollowness that his family left.

He doesn’t remember any of these people sitting at this table with him, even though they’re hollering in excitement that “Jungkook is back again!” The girl placing a hand on his chest with his arm around her shoulder isn’t you, but he knows that if it was, you’d be so displeased at how wasted he is. Honestly, this feels wrong. Nothing sits right in his stomach and when another pretty gal with her dress hiked up to the point he could see her thong from where he’s on the couch, he’s not even attracted to her. All he could think about was you, and that scowl on your face when he tells you about this night. He could hide it from you but he’s not going to lie to himself— if he wanted to improve for the better, it meant being straightforward and authentic. Jungkook came here to let loose because the events that occurred at the estate tonight was something he wants to forget.

Turning to the girl beside him, his eyes are hooded and vision is blurry when he asks, “What’s your name again?”

When her rosy plump lips open, she says her name but the voice that comes out of it is deep and oddly familiar. “Hyeri?” Why does she say it like a question, and why is her voice so low? Just then, a hand clenches the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up and he meets the proprietor of the response. Hoseok.

Hoseok drags Jungkook’s weak and frail frame out into the alleyway behind the club, fuming to the point that smoke could’ve been whistling out of his ears. “What the fuck are you doing here? And with Hyeri, of all people! I thought I told you to stop fucking around, dude! I-I thought you knew how much she means to me. Out of the people I’ve partied with— you were my actual friend.” He clenches his jaw before Jungkook could even answer, a fist tightening in his hand. “You’re such a fuck up, Jungkook. So much for a friend.”

Then everything blacks out.

His entire body hurts. His head is pounding, he can barely open one of his eyes, and his legs are so sore he can hardly shift on the bed— on a bed? He doesn’t have a bed. He has a futon but not a bed. Startled, he attempts to sit up against the bed frame, the other eye opening to skim through the room.

He’s never been in your bedroom before, but the pictures of you graduating college hanging on the corkboard above your desk, concert tickets, Polaroids, and holiday cards thumbtacked beside them is all the evidence he needs to know it’s yours. Jungkook wants a closer look at them, he can scarcely make out the cute little smile on your face with your family in attendance in the picture, but when he puts weight onto his arms, he groans. Seconds later, you’re bursting through the door, out of breath and worry in your eyes. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Voice hoarse, he realizes how dry his throat is and you lean over to the bedside table to hand him the glass of water you had there originally. “Don’t move, idiot. You’re actually really torn up if you didn’t feel it with all that alcohol in your system.” Inviting yourself onto the foot of the bed, Jungkook frowns after he finishes the entire glass, much more dehydrated than he initially thought. “Trust me, it’s gone now. I feel every ounce of pain. What happened? I blacked out.”

“No shit,” you retort harshly, rolling your eyes at him. “You were drunk as hell, but you didn’t black out from that. Hoseok saw you getting all cozy with Hyeri and knocked the shit out of you. What happened, Jungkook? Why were you there in the first place? Did something happen?”

Reading the expression on your face, he fears for the worse but he doesn’t see any hint of dissatisfaction anywhere. There’s no anger, no resentment, no frustration— none of that. Just curiosity smeared across, genuinely worried about his well-being. “Are you upset that you found out I was there?”

“I was mad that Hoseok called me to come grab you, at first, so kind of, yeah. But if you’re trying to figure out if I’m disappointed in you, then no, I’m not. Old habits are hard to kill, so I understand that you’re trying to cope with something. I just want to know why you were there in the first place and why were you getting all lovey dovey with Hyeri—“

“I wasn’t getting lovey-dovey with Hyeri,” Jungkook exasperates, head falling back against the headboard, closing his eyes shut, interrupting before you lead the conversation into a lecture. “She was just some girl that sat down and claimed a spot next to me. I didn’t even know she was Hoseok’s girl.” There’s a pregnant pause in his explanation, and you don’t break off his train of thought. “I... I went because Jongseok called me useless tonight, yet again. It didn’t bother me as much as it did before, you know, before I met you, and it’s probably because I wasn’t intoxicated or the fact that I’m actually trying now and he still thinks I’m useless. He wants me out of the will.”

“He’s jealous that he’s the problematic child now, not you.” Making your way up the bed, you’re seated on top of the covers, settled adjacent to Jungkook. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re way more useful than you had been initially. I usually do the dishes at my parents’ house, mostly because I’m the middle child, but you did it for me instead. I consider that a huge accomplishment from who you were before.”

As much as he hates to admit how warm and fuzzy he feels inside just from that small achievement, it’s a resemblance of the time when he was younger and won an award for being most creative in his kindergarten class. How are you able to lift up his mood so easily by just saying a few words?

“I… is Hoseok really pissed?”

“A bit,” you reply sincerely and apologetically, even though none of this had been your fault. “He’s been in love with her even before I met him. She was all he could talk about, and I guess she finally gave him a shot, only to drop him a month later. I don’t know much about her, but I know she’s a gold digger from the stories he shared.”

Jungkooks face drops when his gaze meets yours. “Have you ever told him that?” You laugh—the melody that practically heals his wounds on the spot. “No, are you crazy? He’s blinded by love, Jeon, and any interference with that, I’m done for, probably cut out entirely from his life. Have you never been in love before?”

He wants to say that he hasn’t, not until he met you, but you continue without expecting a response from him anyway. “Well, that’s just how he is. You could tell him a billion times that this girl isn’t for him but he’s never going to care about what I say until something actually happens.”

“I really care about Hoseok, though, and I want the best for him.” His doe-brown eyes are glossy, full of cherish for his friend. “And he cares for you too, Jeon. Just give him some time.” Quickly, Jungkook twists away, gaze avoiding yours as he clears his throat a couple times.

“Are you... okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” He says, choking up on his own words. “Hurts a little. Hoseok is strong.”

You furrow your brows. “Hey, look at me.” He doesn’t react. “Jeon,”

“Can... you give me some space?”

Pulling your lips into a straight line, you contemplate whether or not to listen to his words or go against him. He’s been living in a home full of people yet still feeling alone, with no one to listen to his perspective on things. Maybe it’s time you change that.

Abruptly, you swing your leg over his thighs, hands cupping his cheeks just like you did that fateful night. He swore his heart stopped beating. “What are you—” There’s tears brimming in his eyes, you realize, with some escaping, trailing down his cheek. He sniffles. “You’re crying?” You’re stating the obvious, yet somehow it comes out as a question. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

“I’ve never had a friend love me before, a friend who actually liked me for me and only wanted to spend time with me because of who I was, not who my family was. Did I really fuck up with Hoseok?” You frown, thumb rubbing against his cheek to wipe away his tears. Truthfully, you never really knew how to react when someone fell apart like this, but with Jungkook, it felt natural, the comforting. It might’ve been the sunlight peering through the windows of your room that made everything toasty, thawing out your cold heart, or it was just Jungkook. “Maybe. But I doubt he wouldn’t give you a chance to explain yourself though. I mean, yeah, you’re bruised all over because he really beat you up... but, I’m sure this evens things out. Plus, I’m your friend and I love you too.”

He sighs, shoulders plunging with his hands creeping up to your waist unconsciously, tenderly steering you to sit on his thighs. Swallowing at the feeling of his body flattened against yours, you’re attempting to shake your head from the dirty thoughts. Jungkook feels at ease, detecting the words come from your mouth, yet he wants more. He craves for more, especially since that night in Busan and he isn’t sure he can hold himself back anymore.

“I... What happened that night in Busan?” Lifting your weight off him, he only stops you by putting down more pressure to stop your escape. Despite being in an awful lot of pain, he still manages to overpower you in strength. “Please don’t avoid this. If Jongseok didn’t come to our door that night, it would’ve led to something more. I want to know, please, what does it mean?” Cheeks burning, you stare at the wooden headboard behind him, except Jungkook knows your next steps before you do because his finger is already on your chin, guiding your view back onto him. He doesn’t need to say anything because the look he gives you says it all, tell me.

“Okay, okay,” You cringe, the idea of talking about this makes your stomach feel queasy and want to recoil in dread. “White flag. I’ll talk.”

“Enough of this white flag nonsense, just tell me.”

Belatedly gathering enough courage, you spill. Although your heart feels like it’s jumping through hoops from suspense, you realize that you can’t hold yourself back any longer anyway. “I’m... attracted to you, alright? I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about you 100% emotionally, because I still feel like we’re on different pages here, but I feel like I kind of like you? If this goes any further, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.”

That’s... it? Admittedly so, Jungkook was hoping for more of a confession, something along the lines of, ‘I really like you, Jungkook’ but he’d have to settle for this. This was definitely a step closer to where he wants to be. “So... you’d date me, that is. There’s still an opening somewhere.”

“I-I mean, I guess so... why?”

“Because well, I can’t stop thinking about that night, and I know that for sure that I like you.” He discloses. “And if there’s even a bit of an opening, I want a shot at it.”

You scoff. “With me? You want an actual shot with me? After spending time with my family, you want to still try to swoon me?” There’s a smile tugging on Jungkook’s lips; there’s a blackish-bluish bruise underneath his eye, the side of his lips red and blotchy and the entirety of his body is either swollen or bruised, and yet, he still endures the pain to be beaming brighter than the stars. “Of course, you met my family, right? Yours is nothing complicated in comparison... well, maybe your sister. But for once, I feel like I belong here, with you, I feel like I’m home. So, will you give me a chance to win you over?”

“Don’t you think you’re rushing this whole thing? This... you thinking you like me kind of thing.”

“Are you going to keep wasting your time?” He blurts, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You wasted how long with some guy only for him to ditch you for your sister. What about your happiness, and what you want? None of this is fair to you. What if I could possibly give that to you, that happiness? Would you actually give me a chance?”

Sincerely, you didn’t know what the relationship with Jungkook held and what it would mean in the future. But what he asserts is right with the things he repeats in Busan about being selfish for once replays in your head again, and you finally decide to take a shot at it.

Was it the high of saying ‘yes, okay’ to Jungkook or the painkillers he took earlier because when your lips meet with his, he feels like he’s floating in mid-air. Your tongue is wet and soft when it fights with his, and when his hands on your waist pull you in closer, the bulge in his pants isn’t discreet, raging for attention, twitching against your thigh while your fingers knots through his hair tightens in response to your bottom lip suddenly tucked in between his teeth. The room feels steaming hot, especially when your hips start to move against his, emitting a groan from him as hand trails down to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze in consequence. His jeans from last night are still on and they’re straining in his crotch uncomfortably.

This is escalating so fast—just as quickly as his heart is beating in his chest, almost popping out of his chest cavity. Your natural scent is intoxicating, clouding up his mind to the point that he doesn’t think he needs the alcohol to forget the pain his family has caused him anymore, because you’re mending the pieces of him together. Your hands trail down to his neck, tugging him closer before they wander down to his biceps, giving him a gentle squeeze that releases a wince from him.

Just as abrupt as the kiss, you pull away with a concerned and panic expression, with your mouth open in aghast. “Oh my god— I forgot you were still injured—” As you’re trying to move back, you stumble on his legs and collapse onto the floor.

“What— hey, are you okay?” He says, breathless as he leans over to check on you sprawled on the floor. Swiftly hopping back on your feet, he observes you clearly with your hair disheveled, cheeks tinted pink, and swollen lips. There’s a look of achievement on his face from the sight of a disoriented you. “Uh, um, yeah. I-I’m good,” Flustered, you push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m... I’m going to get dinner ready for the both of us, uh, I’m going to leave you to it,” you’re awkwardly gesturing his crotch before rushing out the room and slamming the door shut.

He can only laugh at your reaction. At least his week wasn’t that bad after that kiss, right?

Jungkook stirs awake from the sound of chatter in the living room, voices familiar that he can associate them as yours and Hoseok’s. Unexpectedly, he sounds melancholic, the muffled sounds from your walls, almost to the point of whimpering mixed with your soft assuring words. He figures he should get a closer perspective of this, maybe enough where he can make out what the two of you are conversing about.

He’s not far off from shrieking when he angles his leg too far, but he bites his bottom lip in prevention of any sound, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the torment. Careful, he reiterates like a mantra in his head, chanting it until it’s engraved in his brain. When he reaches the door, he opens it slowly and just barely, to peek out and see the scene unfold before him.

“She told me that they didn’t do anything,” Hoseok exclaims, face in his hands as his elbows are resting on his knees. “That she chose to be there, and Jungkook was just lounging on the couch. That if anything, she wanted him to fuck her. Isn’t that ridiculous? How could she say that?”

You’re seated on the armrest of the loveseat, hand rubbing against Hoseok’s back soothingly. “I know, Hobi, I know. You might’ve been the right one for her, but at the end, she wasn’t the right one for you.”

“I could’ve changed,” He emphasizes, spinning his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are crimson and swollen from his tears, restlessness fills in those orbs. “I love her so much.”

“Well, and you love Jungkook. He’s in the other room, beat up and crying because he thought he lost you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you tore him to shreds! Earlier when we were making—“ You pause, clearing your throat when you realize where you were leading the conversation, Hoseok raising a brow in confusion at the action. “Earlier, I mean, I went to check on him and he was whining in pain. You really hurt him, Hoseok, and not just physically either. He’s both hurt emotionally and physically.”

He frowns. “I mean, I guess... I guess it wasn’t his fault.”

“There’s no guessing, idiot. It wasn’t. He was honestly too wasted to even realize that she was sitting beside him. Poor kid reeked of alcohol that I almost made him sleep on the porch. But he would’ve gotten robbed so... I let him stay in my room and I slept on the couch.” Jungkook glowers at the thought of you struggling to find comfort on the small sofa, wishing you would’ve chosen to sleep by him instead.

“Can I... talk to him?” Hoseok finally asks, looking down at his hands in embarrassment. His knuckles were red, contused from the one-sided fight he had with Jungkook the night before. “I fucked up, and I’m sure he thinks that he really fucked up.”

You hum for a moment before an idea pops into mind. “How about... you go out and get takeout? I’ll check on him, prep him for your appearance, and then you guys can hash it out?”

You don’t take no for an answer, pushing Hoseok out the door shortly, and a soft smile tugs on the edges of Jungkook’s lips before he lightly shuts the door and tip toes back into bed, pretending to be deep in slumber.

When you come into the room afterwards with a wet rag in hand and a bucket of warm water, his heart swells. Patting the towel against his wounds while seated at the edge of the bed, he hastily has a hand wrapped around your wrist, shocking you in the midst of your activity. “Oh— you’re awake?” He gingerly kisses the palm of your hand, heat clogging your face . “Yeah. And, thank you. For everything. I owe you a lot.”

“I—uh, maybe you’ll reciprocate this for me as well, one day?” You respond dubiously. “But... you also might not know how to do it so—“

“Are you still trying to make jabs at me after I made such a sweet comment?”

“Well, I’m just being honest, do you even know how to take care of another person?” You shoot back. “You couldn’t even get yourself back home, I had to be called and drag you back here myself, and my god, you’re heavy—“ He hauls your arm closer, dragging you along with it until your nose is inches away from his. “Can I kiss you again? I miss the way your lips feel with mine.” Even when he says the words in a volume that’s barely a whisper, his breath fans against your skin harshly, causing goosebumps to crawl up your spine.

The door pounds shut and before you can tear away from Jungkook’s hold, Hoseok is already standing in the threshold of the bedroom, mouth wide open in shock before it immediately fades into a mischievous grin. “What did I tell you, Kook? Which one was it first? You or her?”

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts #bts smut #jungkook x reader #gyukult fics

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fleetingpieces · 3 years

Text

My Two in a Million

Hold your horses, I finally finished writing something! I know it's probably not what you expected and it's definitely not one of my best works, but I feel that if I don't post it now, I will never get out of the slump.

So apologies in advance and I hope you enjoy it a bit anyway! <3

Thank you so much for being so patient with me :)))

Thanks to @knittingdreams @donttouchmycarrots @inloveoknutzy and @asunshinepuff for all your help, love you guys <3

Ao3

Characters belong to @lumosinlove !

Chapter 1

“Lily, why the hell are we out here?” Logan asked, wrapping his arms around himself. He glanced around the hall at the other party guests that were milling about—all of whom had costumes more fitting for the cool weather—and grumbled as he leaned against the wall, a hiss escaping his lips when the cold material touched his bare back.

Lily glanced at him, amused. “It’s not my fault you chose to show off your body when it’s fucking freezing outside.”

“No, it’s Finn’s. He had it stuck in his head that we just had to wear sexy costumes,” Logan rolled his eyes; though he couldn’t deny that he’d been more than happy when he first saw Finn that night. His breath had completely left his lungs when the redhead had stepped out of the bathroom wearing a Spartan costume, smiling like a little kid at his fake sword, his firm abs on display, a familiar trail of red hair disappearing under the wide belt and—

Logan gulped and tried to remember that he was at a party full of people, willing his mind not to think about how he’d felt. Or about how much he was dying to get Finn out of that damn skirt.

“Still, that doesn’t explain why we’re out here instead of inside, where it’s warmer and I could be in my half-naked boyfriend’s arms.”

“Just bear with me, ok? It shouldn’t be long now.”

Logan sighed; he knew better than to try to argue with his friend. “So how’s your business going?” he asked instead.

“Oh, it’s great!” Lily replied, her face lighting up with a smile. “We received a shipment of rare books today, there’re a few that I’m sure Finn would love. I will separate a few—” she stopped in the middle of her excited explanation as she looked towards the elevators, her smile going wider. “Remus!” she yelled and, without another word, pushed against the wall to walk ahead.

Frowning, Logan grumbled and followed behind a moment later. Had she been waiting for someone? Perhaps this meant that he could go back inside and get out of the cold. Halfway there, he looked to see who Lily had called for, noticing two people waiting but focusing mainly on one of them as his eyes fell on a long set of legs. Damn, this guy is huge, he thought as his gaze wandered slowly up the dark ripped jeans and comfy looking jumper.

The guy jumped slightly and dropped some keys he was holding. Logan didn’t get to see the face under the mop of blond hair as he bent to pick them up, but noticed how red his neck was and chuckled softly.

Cute.

Then the boy straightened up and Logan almost choked on his laugh as their gazes locked. His eyes were the bluest he’d ever seen, like staring at an open sky, contrasting with the blush on his cheeks—whether from the cold or from embarrassment, Logan wasn’t sure. He seemed slightly guarded, which made Logan cock his head wondering why. As a few more seconds passed and he didn’t break eye contact, some of the tension left the boy’s shoulders, the corner of his mouth lifting up in a shy smile as he ruffled his hair, the gesture going straight to Logan’s gut.

Shaking his head, he focused on the floor as he reached Lily’s side. The man standing next to the blond—Remus, most likely—was talking with Lily, but Logan could barely process what they were saying in the middle of the turmoil that was his head. With great effort, he tried to keep his eyes down, but his gaze kept wandering back to blue.

He was pulled out of his musings when Lily placed a hand on his shoulder and tilted her head towards the tall guy who, Logan noticed, had his eyes now trailing down Logan’s arms. “Hi, I’m Lily and this is Logan,” she said with a smile.

The blond —Logan cursed himself for not catching his name— gave him a sheepish wave and another small smile, and Logan found himself returning it as a tingling sensation spread through his body, starting from his mouth and going down to his toes.

“Salut! Are you guys joining the party?” he asked hopefully.

“Ah, sorry, but well… we don’t really have costumes,” Remus replied and the other guy turned to look at him with a scowl. It looked like he wanted to argue with his...friend? Logan had no idea what they were. Or who they were, for that matter.

But he kinda wanted to.

“Costumes are not mandatory. C’mon, I promise you’ll have fun,” Lily turned pleading eyes to Remus.

The newcomers glanced at each other, an unspoken conversation being held between them. Taking a sip from his drink, Logan stared at the floor again and, when he looked back up, the blond had his head tilted down, his bottom lip jutting out, eyes big and begging and blue, and it was so fucking adorable that Logan almost spat out his rum.

He turned to the side and coughed discreetly just as Remus gave in and Lily started happily guiding them into the apartment.

All the way there, Logan kept wanting to ask for the guy’s name as they stole glances at each other, but he didn’t want to show just how little attention he’d been paying. Or maybe where his attention had been. Once inside, they were welcomed by the much needed heat, low lights and a playlist that was without a doubt put together by Talker. Natalie, Marlene and a few other people were dancing to the beat, but Logan knew where he would find most of the gang: in the living room, exactly where they’d left them.

The thought of who would be waiting for him there felt like a bucket of cold water thrown in his face, making him falter in his step. What the fuck had he been thinking? Frowning, Logan hid his tightly closed fists inside his pockets, waiting a few steps back while Lily filled two cups with some orange beverage and handed them over to Remus and his companion.

As soon as they stepped into the living room, his sight landed on Finn playing against Thomas and Kasey, his wild auburn hair falling into his eyes, completely focused on the task at hand as he tapped buttons and whooped when he managed a combo.

Finn.

Logan made a bee-line for him, desperate to feel his boyfriend’s warmth, have him close after the jarring emotions that had assaulted him just now. He also left his cup at the table for good measure—maybe he’d been drinking too much.

Burrowing into his boyfriend’s side, he tried to leave as little space between them as possible, which made Finn chuckle and shiver slightly.

“Honey, you’re freezing,” he said as he nudged him with his head.

“Blame Evans. She forced me to stay out so she could wait for her friend.” His thoughts went back to the other person that had come with them, but he avoided the urge to look for him.

“Friend? Who was it?” Finn asked, not taking his eyes away from the screen as suddenly James’ character stood still and they started losing. “Pots, focus!”

“Someone named Remus? I have no idea.”

“Wait, no no no!” Finn screamed and punched the buttons harder, but James was not helping at all and they were both knocked out. “Oh, come on!” Everyone laughed as Finn threw the controller on the table and turned to playfully glare at Lily, who was sitting on James’ lap. “Lily, what did I tell you? Don’t distract him when he plays on my team!”

“Stop crying and pay up, O’Hara!” Kasey grinned and high-fived Thomas.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just lucky Lily was on your team as well,” Finn mumbled but threw the twenty bucks in their direction before turning to Logan with a smile. “Hey baby.”

Next thing Logan knew, there were lips pressed against his. He smiled into it, bringing a hand up to brush Finn’s hair out of his face, letting the feel of his body ground him again.

As they pulled apart, he caught the blond guy staring, their eyes meeting only for a second before the boy looked away. His jaw was set in a hard line, so different from the expressions he’d shown Logan out there, and suddenly he was flooded with guilt at the pull that kept tugging in two different directions.

He felt completely thrown off. His feelings for Finn were as strong as ever, but he was still very intrigued by this other person. There was something that made him want to talk with him more, ask about his life, check if those long arms could envelop him whole as it seemed. To just go over there and introduce him to Finn.

What kind of shitty person was he?

“Everyone,” Lily said then, grabbing everyone’s attention, “these are Remus and Leo. Remus is Sirius’ new neighbour, so be nice to them!” She pierced them with her best and-if-you-don’t glare that all of them knew well, making some of the guys gulp.

Leo, Logan thought. It fit him, somehow.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Remus said.

“Hello,” Leo smiled brightly at whoever was sitting to their right and Logan felt Finn freeze for a second as the corner of his mouth lifted in a silly smile.

Well, at least he knew Finn found Leo attractive as well.

His boyfriend turned to him, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve run into that Remus guy in the hall before, but who is that?”

“His friend?” Logan said, trying not to sound too interested. “I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like they live together.”

“Yeah, no, I mean… I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”

Logan frowned. “I don’t think I saw him in the building before. I would remember someone that tall.”

“Oh baby, are you grumpy cause you hurt your neck when you looked at his face?” Finn teased as he petted Logan’s hair.

“Shut up, I’m not that much shorter than you.” Logan crossed his arms over his chest, turning his face away from Finn.

The stupid ass laughed and kissed his temple, which admittedly always managed to make Logan melt and lean into him, but he still made a ‘hmph’ sound, pulling another laugh out of Finn.

While both of them were distracted, the rest of the guys started setting everything up to play a new game which Remus seemed interested in. And then, out of nowhere, Sirius was asking Remus to play with him.

Finn and Logan looked at each other, wondering what the hell Sirius was up to. It was rare for him to want to play with some random guy, especially when most of the people in the room already had a hard time beating him. They even had a bet going about who would be the first to get five wins over Pads and so far, no one had managed it. Remus had absolutely no chance against someone that did this for a living.

But as it turned out, it was a very heated competition that had everyone watching closely. Logan wasn’t sure that he’d ever seen Sirius like that. He could tell he was focused, yes, but he was also excited, even if he was hiding it on the outside. In the end, Remus kicked Sirius’ ass.

“Yes!” both Remus and Leo yelled and then hugged, laughing. Leo put a hand on the back of Remus’ head and bumped their heads together. The gesture showed just how close they were, how comfortable they felt with each other, but what really had Logan’s attention was that wide, unbelievably happy smile that showed off his—

“Finn...dimples,” he whispered, though probably not as quietly as he should have, given the way Kasey snorted.

That in itself wasn’t a weird thing to say. Finn and Logan were open with each other. They talked about everything and had no secrets between them, because talking with Finn was as easy as breathing, and as vital too.

Logan trusted Finn. With his whole heart.

He knew he could talk to him about other guys that he found attractive and that Finn could do the same, ‘cause they weren’t possessive or so blinded by jealousy that they couldn’t separate things. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d had a talk like that either.

This was different though.

It’d been a very long while since Logan had been struck like this. Probably since the first time he’d laid eyes on Finn; he’d had no words to describe the feeling at that moment either. But there was something about those blue eyes and the way he’d held Logan’s gaze, about that shy but steady demeanour. And that smile.

Fuck, that smile.

Logan didn’t even know him, and he already knew that he’d love that grin here or in any other universe. And just how fucking weird was that?

Maybe he could ask Leo to play a game with him next, get to know him, make him feel comfortable. But he couldn’t get his attention, Leo’s gaze kept evading him, and Logan felt something like dread at the possibility that Leo might be doing it on purpose.

He didn’t get much of a chance anyway. After a bit of teasing about Padfoot, Remus stood up to defend him before trailing off in the middle of his speech, a faraway look on his face. Then he rushed out of the room, leaving a tense silence behind and Leo staring helplessly after him.

Lily was the first one to approach him, placing a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I… I will go check on him,” he smiled sadly and nodded to the room in general. “Thank you for inviting us.” And with that, he exited without a second glance back.

Logan wasn’t sure how he should feel about this kind of departure, or at the realisation that he might not see Leo again. Maybe it was a good thing; if his emotions could get stirred just by some glances, what would it be like if he actually got to know him?

Perhaps it was better to leave things as they were.

***

Shit shit shit shit.

It was late. Leo was so, so late.

He skidded around the corner and took the next hall at a light run, trying to avoid the other students, which luckily weren’t that many. Of course, he thought bitterly, that’s probably because other people manage to get to their own classes on time.

He still wasn’t sure what had happened, he was convinced he’d set his alarm for today, but clearly he hadn’t or he wouldn’t be running. His commute was quite long as it was, which meant that if he missed the train—like today—he was inevitably late unless a miracle happened.

Maybe he should really take Remus up on his offer to move in with him. It would also mean spending more time with his best friend, since between attending classes, doing homework and the time it took to get back home, he didn’t have many opportunities to see him lately. But there was no way Leo could afford that flat, and he didn’t want to take advantage of Remus.

Finally, he reached the door to his classroom and, after allowing a few seconds to let his breathing go back to normal, he went in as quietly as possible. The Professor had her back turned to him, so he quickly scanned the room and sat at the nearest empty seat, at the very back.

Sighing in relief that he didn’t seem to have missed too much, he opened his bag and took out his copy of Pride and Prejudice and the rest of his stuff. He was in such a hurry to catch up with the class that he knocked his pencil off the table, sending it rolling on the floor. Cringing at the sound it made, Leo bent to pick it up, only to find that another hand was already there.

He leaned back, blinking at the hand offering his pencil back, then followed the lines of the arm under the green, long-sleeved shirt, up to a familiar face and there Leo had to do a double-take.

Straightening up, he raised his eyebrows, making Finn laugh, his smile lifting to the side as he waved the pencil between them.

“Um, thanks,” Leo whispered, taking it and turning back to his notes with a frown.

Had he and Finn always shared a class together?

Since this was a course he was only taking for credits, Leo didn’t know many faces here and was usually so enthralled by the lecture that he didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings.

Finn hadn’t shown any signs that he’d recognised him at the Halloween party a week ago either. Though, if he was being honest, Leo had especially tried to avoid looking at them after he’d seen him hugging and kissing Logan.

Ugh, that memory… it’d been on his mind more than he cared to admit.

Leo didn’t want to think about how stupid he’d felt that night. He’d been shocked the first time he saw Logan, how his costume showed off his shoulders and thighs, the way he carried himself, the slight pout of his lips as he made his way towards them.

He didn’t want to think about how Logan’s eyes had started travelling up his body, making him panic and act like a fool. Or how despite that, Logan had also seemed a bit shy and fucking adorable and damn it, Leo had thought he was interested in him. But then they’d gone into the flat and Logan all but ran to Finn’s side, and Leo was left feeling like the biggest idiot in the whole damn world.

He hadn’t stayed for long after that. Worried as he was about Remus, he’d followed him shortly after he’d left and hadn’t talked with anyone else at the party. He’d thought that’d be the end of it. It was weird now to sit next to Finn when he’d been checking his boyfriend out just a few days ago.

The sound of a pencil tapping against wood brought Leo back from his musings. He peeked to the side and caught Finn with his chin perched in one hand, the other playing with the thin stick at a high speed. Leo followed the movement, back and forth, back and forth, and then up as Finn raised his hand and brought the pencil to his mouth, the bottom end tugging his pink lip down and then letting go.

The rest of the room quieted down as Leo stared. There was something about the way Finn held the pencil in his long fingers, how the sun coming in from the window seemed to hug him, the specs of dust dancing in the air by his head. How his eyes looked brighter and the strands in his hair lit up like fire.

Finn looked like warmth.

Something like a chill ran down Leo’s back and he quickly averted his eyes.

Though he couldn’t keep them away for long. Apparently, Finn was one of those people that couldn’t sit still and, now that Leo’d noticed, he couldn’t ignore every little movement coming from him, his bouncing leg, how he shifted in his seat and that damn tapping again.

He tried to pay attention to class, he really did, but he was so aware of the boy sitting just a few inches away, that his eyes kept going back to him and all those little movements.

Not able to take it any longer, Leo leaned in and placed a hand on top of Finn’s, feeling him going still under his touch. “Stop it,” he whispered, their eyes locked. The other boy didn’t say anything, just glanced between Leo’s eyes and their joined hands.

Blushing, Leo pulled away and tried to focus on the front of the room, the heat from Finn’s hand still tingling at the tip of his fingers.

Stop this right now, Leo scolded himself. He has a boyfriend.

A boyfriend that he’d also felt attracted to. What the hell was wrong with him?

Determined to keep his mind out of troublesome boys, he managed to listen and take notes for about ten minutes. But then he felt eyes on him. He pretended not to notice as Finn kept stealing glances, no doubt trying to be inconspicuous about it, but, apparently, Finn was as subtle as a flying brick.

The thought tugged a smile out of Leo, who quickly schooled his expression back to one of polite interest. You just grabbed his hand out of nowhere, of course he’s staring, he sighed.

At the end of the class, the teacher wrote a list of things on the board and turned to face them. “This assignment will be the first big one you’ll have, and it will determine 10% of your score, so don’t slack off! Pair up before you go and remember, your deadline is in two weeks.”

There were a few groans at the prospect of having to do something in pairs, but everyone started gathering their things anyway and talking with each other, already forming their teams.

A nudge on his shoulder made Leo look to his left and then he had to fight the urge to jump back. Finn was leaning towards him, that crooked smile on his face again and, this close, Leo could see the freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked, a light blush colouring his face when he realised Finn had said something but he hadn’t listened.

Finn’s head tilted a bit to the side, the other corner of his mouth going up too. “I said, do you want to pair up with me?”

“Oh,” was all Leo could reply. He imagined working together for hours, maybe alone in a secluded part of the library… How would he ever concentrate on their work if he couldn’t even pay attention in class when they were sitting next to each other? On the other hand, Finn seemed like a nice guy and surely Leo had enough self control to keep a cool head. Just because he was slightly attracted to him it didn’t mean that things would escalate further, especially not when he knew nothing could ever happen.

“I mean, if you already have someone—” Finn started when Leo didn’t reply for a while.

“No, no, sorry. Yeah, that would be nice,” he smiled.

“Sweet. Are you free right now? My next class is in the afternoon, so we could go back to my place and get started, if you want.”

“That…” Leo hesitated, but then hardened his resolve. He could be friends with Finn, right? It would be nice to make new acquaintances at school and there was always the chance that he might see him and Logan again at Remus’ building. He could forget about one or two silly crushes, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to do it.

“That sounds good.”

#fanfic #writing #lumosinlove #o'knutzy #polyamory #wolfstar

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my-robot-heart · 3 years

Text

@fictober-event 2021 | Fandom: the blacklist - lizzington

Day 3: "I've waited for this." | Rating: T | Warnings: none

Late at night, Lizzie thought about him.

When she couldn't fall asleep, she would let her mind replay over and over the interactions they'd had. The ones where he'd slung an arm just casually enough so as to remain inauspicious across the back of a seat they'd both shared. Or when he'd lingered just seconds too long when clasping her hand, or placing a guiding hand on her back. The ones where he'd said things like, we're gonna make a great team, or just pretend you're my girlfriend from Ann Arbor.

The scenes would replay in her mind, and she'd let herself imagine them playing out differently: stopping his hand before it could leave hers, or leaning back into the arm that was slung across the back of the seat. Replying yes, sure, that sounds like fun to his challenge, and showing him that she, too, knew how to be mischievous.

Late at night, she thought about these things, and wished things were different. And knew that, if they ever were to be, it was up to her to do something. Anything.

But when the sun rose, and brought with it a new day, full of possibility, Lizzie found herself unable to conceive of what she would do if something went wrong. If she reached out to him, and he refused. In that case, she was better to just let things remain status quo; at least then she could be certain of their friendship. At least then, she knew she wouldn't have to face the what ifs.

Their next assignment was supposed to be easy. Posing as a couple on an undercover mission at a museum gala, while waiting to pounce on their Blacklister: a Renaissance art thief.

It was supposed to be easy, but from the moment she stepped out her door and into the waiting car, accepting Red's proffered hand lightly as she did so, Lizzie knew it would be anything but.

Red slid into the backseat beside her, waving to Dembe to start driving, and as he buckled his seatbelt he gave her a look that warmed her even more than the sunlight coming in through the window and playing on her skin.

"Lizzie."

"Red."

"You look... dazzling," he said, and before she could react he finished with, "the perfect foil for our plan tonight. All eyes will be on you rather than me, which means we shouldn't have to worry about my being recognized."

Typical, she thought. Undo her with a compliment and then follow it with business talk. It was maddening, because it meant she was never quite sure whether she was interpreting him correctly, or just reading into things. That they were business associates was a fact, but whether there was the possibility for something more...? Perplexing.

"You look very dapper as well," she returned. "As expected."

"Agents Mojtabai and Navabi should be there already," he commented, fiddling with one of his shirt cuffs. "We'll tap into their communication system as soon as we arrive."

Lizzie glanced over at what he was doing with his cuffs, noticing that a button had come undone and he was attempting to refasten it with his non-dominant hand. And failing quite badly, she saw.

Reaching over, she gently took his arm and made quick work of the button, tucking his cuff back into the tuxedo jacket as she did so.

Was it her imagination, or did he let out a quiet huff of breath when she let go of his arm? It was almost as if he'd been holding his breath while she fixed his cuff. She watched his expression for a sign that he was unsteady in some way, and found none.

Nevermind, Liz, she told herself sternly. Just focus on the task at hand. But, as usual in cases that involved working closely with Raymond Reddington, just focusing on the task at hand was never as easy as that.

This situation in particular: pretending to be a couple, this was going to be tough. Because it's what she was doing, what she had been doing, wasn't it? But now, now she had to both pretend to be his girlfriend and pretend that she hadn't thought about that very situation over and over until it became as familiar to her as her real life. That was the real challenge.

They arrived at the museum, and Red came around to give Lizzie a hand out of the car, easefully letting his arm slide round her waist when she stood beside him.

We're a couple. She reminded herself. He's doing this as part of the job.

Giving him a smile she hoped was bright and not wary, she walked with him into the gala.

They were immediately handed glasses of champagne. Lizzie sipped hers quickly, hoping for some fortification.

Red, maddeningly, appeared perfectly at home. The nerve of him, being able to fall into character like that every damn time.

They found themselves standing near a large triptych, and Lizzie decided they should at least appear to show interest in the artwork, so she leaned in to take a closer look.

Red leaned in as well, keeping an arm around her waist. This proved so distracting that when she noticed he had asked her a question, it was already too late, and she had to ask him to repeat himself, embarrassedly.

"I said, are you a Renaissance art fan, Lizzie?"

"It's Caroline," she whispered back, giving him the alias she was supposed to be using tonight. Just then she heard a crackling from her earpiece. Aram was listening.

"Hello Aram," she said in a low voice, wriggling free from Red's arm for a moment.

"Yes, we're in place. Okay. I'll keep watching for our guy."

"So sorry, Caroline," Red said. "Are you a Renaissance art fan, then."

"No, not really. Are you?"

"I prefer the Surrealist period, myself," he replied.

Of course he would.

The evening passed uneventfully and with no sign of their Blacklister. Lizzie was beginning to wonder if the entire thing would turn out to be a bust, when she heard Aram in her ear again.

"On your right, two o'clock."

She turned slowly, hopefully inconspicuously, in that direction. A tall man was eyeing one of the paintings. That was their guy.

She tried to nudge Red, but he was deep in conversation with another couple, regaling them with some story of his own invention.

"Ahem." She tried clearing her throat. He didn't notice.

Damn it, she would have to interrupt.

Walking right up to his side, she took Red's outstretched arm and gave him a pointed look.

"So sorry to interrupt, but-"

"Ah! Perfect timing, Caroline. May I introduce you to my enchanting girlfriend, Caroline. She's the light of my life," he announced proudly, causing Lizzie to raise an eyebrow in surprise before falling into character as best she could.

"What a pleasure to meet you all," she said with a smile. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak to you, alone."

Red caught the emphasis and smiled at his new friends before excusing himself. He followed Lizzie to a secluded corner.

"It's our guy. Over there by the da Vinci sketches." Her eyes flicked towards him.

Red nodded.

"Yes, I know."

"You know? What do you mean, you know. We're here to apprehend him, aren't we?"

"Apprehend? Oh heavens no. We're just here to have a quick chat. And while you were grabbing a refill on your champagne, I did exactly that."

A beat passed.

"Exactly what."

"Had a quick chat. Made my negotiations, as it were. So, we're free to either leave, or spend the rest of the evening here, in pleasant company and with wonderful food. The choice is yours, Lizzie."

She stared at him.

"Alright. Let's stay."

To her delight, he looked surprised.

"What?"

"You said we can leave, or spend the rest of the evening here. And I said, let's stay. The food is good, I've drank a few glasses of very nice champagne, and the night is young." She grabbed her earpiece and threw it into a nearby potted plant. "Let's stay."

It was a challenge, and he knew it.

Giving her an appreciative glance, he tilted his head in agreement.

"Alright."

He led her away from the secluded corner, and, with a very charming look, suggested that they dance.

"Dance?"

"Yes. Everyone's doing it," he noted, gesturing to the many couples who had filled the centre of the room.

"Okay," she agreed, wondering if it was the champagne, or if her lightheadedness was due to some other reason.

One hand taking hers, Red placed his other hand on the small of her back and pulled her what felt like very close, but was in fact a perfectly normal distance away.

They started moving slowly with the music, and soon Lizzie felt her cheek gently come to rest on his lapel. It felt easy, and she wasn't going to question it if he didn't.

"I've waited for this," she heard him say, or did she? That seemed oddly out of character. Pulling away from his jacket slightly so that she could see his eyes, she couldn't find anything in them to confirm either way.

"What did you say?" she asked, figuring if he'd said something else at least she should know what it was.

"I said, I've been waiting for this, Lizzie," he repeated, and she felt her cheeks warm once again.

"Waiting for what?" her voice was a whisper. He couldn't possibly mean what she was thinking.

Momentarily, he stopped dancing and looked her in the eyes.

"This. All of it. With you."

She definitely felt lightheaded now, and it wasn't just the champagne.

"All of-?" she repeated, and he cut her off, his mouth covering hers and reminding her that, although they were in full view of everyone in the room, they were anonymous here, and so the kiss could take place without any implications, or complications that came from their regular lives.

Leaning into the kiss, she returned it with the pent up energy from months of thinking about just this moment.

"Oh," she exclaimed when they finally broke apart. There didn't seem to be any words for what had just happened.

Red was looking at her with concern, perhaps wondering if she'd gone mad for a moment and suddenly regained her faculty of thought.

"Are you..." he began, but this time she cut him off with another kiss.

In a minute, she managed to pull away long enough to whisper, "I've waited for this, too, you know."

The look of realization in his face was enough to confirm for her then that she hadn't been the only one wanting this to happen.

As they continued to dance, Lizzie knew that the circumstances would immediately change as soon as this evening was over, and they had to return to their lives. But for now, at least, they had this chance. And they were both eager to seize it.

#fictober21 #Fictober-event #lizzington #lizzington fanfic #red and lizzie #fluff #undercover as a couple #fave trope

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bloodfromthethorn · 3 years

Text

Sleep is the Best Cure

“Jack? What-” Mac blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision even as he automatically relaxed into his partner’s hold, trusting him to keep him up while he struggled his way back to the surface.

“Pretty sure you’re going on about 72 hours without sleep and you’ve had, what? Three? Separate traumatic situations in that time? Not much of a surprise you’re about to crash hard.”

Tag to 2x11 and 2x12. Also on AO3.

Mac’s eyes surveyed the wreck of his living room with a building sense of dread. The last few days felt like little more than a blur in his memory and he didn’t think he’d had a chance to pause for breath during any of it. Now that he had a moment to himself, he couldn’t help but worry that the world was about to come crashing down yet again, with him standing right in the middle of it.

Charlie’s attention had been drawn away by one of the team responsible for lifting the barrels out from beneath the floor, while all around them Phoenix personnel were cataloguing every item they could find just in case one of them might grant a clue as to the Ghost’s whereabouts. Mac considered moving to help them - or perhaps back Charlie up in what looked as though it might be descending into some kind of argument about proper procedure - but the instant he took a step to do so, sharp, blinding pain struck him right between the eyes like a lightning bolt.

It was there and gone in a flash, but it left him so startled he staggered back a step in surprise. A hand snatched at his arm before he could do more than sway, tugging him carefully against a supportive warm body. “Easy there bud.”

“Pretty sure you’re going on about 72 hours without sleep and you’ve had, what? Three? Separate traumatic situations in that time? Not much of a surprise you’re about to crash hard.”

“I’m- I’m okay.”

“Yeah man, ‘course you are. But maybe we should get you some sleep, yeah?”

Mac’s head still felt like it was floating some way above the rest of his body, foggy and distant, but he was still able to feel himself frown as the suggestion stuck a chime wrong somewhere. “Can’t,” he managed. “House is in clean up.”

“Matty’s got it covered,” Jack said, sure and steady. “And while she’s getting everything here sorted, you can crash at my place.”

That did admittedly sound amazing, but Mac forced himself to mumble a negative and reclaim some of his own weight, shaking his head in a vain attempt at clearing out the cobwebs taking root. “No, I need to help Charlie,” he said stubbornly.

The arm Jack had around his shoulders turned to steel, not letting him move away. “Charlie is doing just fine. He knows what he’s doing and he’s not the one dead on his feet right now. It’s okay man, it’s over. You can hand the reins over to someone else for a bit.”

With his vision steadily clearing, Mac could finally make out Jack’s worried face at his shoulder, watching him closely for any sign he was about to take another nosedive. Beyond the concern though, it was clear as day that Jack was starting to flag just as badly as Mac was, with pale skin and deepening crow’s feet emphasising the slight squint he’d picked up to combat the dryness of his eyes. “You’ve not slept either,” he pointed out unnecessarily.

Jack huffed something that might have been a laugh if he’d had the energy for it. “True enough, but I also wasn’t arrested and I haven’t spent the last twenty hours working on defusing two bombs simultaneously.” He gestured vaguely around the wreck of Mac’s living room with his free hand as though to encompass everything that had happened. “I’m good to drive us both back to mine and then I’m planning on passing out until at least tomorrow. That plan sound good with you?”

Honestly, now that Mac was aware of his own fatigue, the exhaustion felt like a physical weight on his body and the very thought of handing over his safety to Jack and drifting off for a couple of hours sounded like heaven, but he knew his job. Once an EOD tech, always an EOD tech, and there was still a lot of explosive material in his house that needed dealing with before anyone in a mile’s radius would be safe. He had work to do.

The sentiment must have shown on his face, because Jack went right back to frowning. “No, man, cut that out. Even if there wasn’t a perfectly capable bomb tech right over there, you’re in no state to be handling explosives. You’re shaking.”

Mac glanced at his own hands to confirm that yes, his whole body was indeed wracked by fine tremors that he couldn’t seem to stop. That… didn’t seem right. Since joining the army he’d had countless sleepless nights, both intentional and unavoidable, and while he knew he must be getting close to his limit of endurance, he was usually steady handed. Sort of an occupational requirement, really.

“Something’s wrong,” he murmured to himself, still looking at his trembling fingers.

With a heavy sigh, Jack tugged on him until he was pushed, unresisting, onto one of the bar stools and propped up by Jack’s warm palms on both of his shoulders. “What’s wrong is that you’ve been running on nothing but adrenaline and coffee for two whole days. Just ‘cause you’ve not been dodging bullets doesn’t mean you haven’t been going through the wringer. You’re exhausted. That’s all it is, bud, promise.”

Well, if Jack promised then Mac would believe him. Jack would never lie to him and he always seemed to know Mac’s hurts even before the man himself did. Something about it still didn’t sit right with him though. “Was dodging bullets,” he corrected, slightly petulantly, as he remembered handcuffs around his wrists and the desperation of trying to find a solution using nothing but a bullet and a ballpoint pen.

One of Jack’s hands drifted up his shoulder to cup the back of his head comfortingly in a move that Jack liked to use when he wanted to check Mac’s pulse without him knowing. “I’m okay,” he mumbled again in protest, but didn’t pull away.

“Yeah, I know you are. You’re pretty out of it though bud. Reckon you’re not going to remember this conversation tomorrow, huh?”

That was probably a fair assessment, honestly. With no witty retort lined up and thoroughly lacking the energy to search for one, Mac just hummed agreeably, blinking at him as his vision went wobbly again.

Jack sighed. “Okay, I’m calling it. I know you want to help out here, but you need rest and you’re not going to get it while there’s a Phoenix clean-up op happening in your living room. And since I’m not letting you out of my sight just yet, you’re coming home with me, yes? Good.”

He finally broke his attention off from Mac to cast a glance around the room at large and caught Matty’s eyes, gesturing to his semi-conscious partner with a small head tilt. “I’m taking this one home.” He didn’t leave any room in his tone for argument, but softened it by adding, “If you need us, call me.”

Thankfully, as much as Matty might be a hardass when her job needed her to be, she was also one of the most observant people Jack had ever met. Her eyes took them both in with a single look and recognised the exhaustion staring back at her. She nodded with a soft smile. “Take as long as you need. We’ve got this.”

He spared enough time to shoot her a deeply grateful look before his entire attention turned back to Mac, who appeared to have been trying unsuccessfully to use the brief pause to rally himself. Unfortunately for him, he was long since out of any reserves to draw off; the best his attempts got him was some slightly more aggressive blinking.

“Okay hoss, think you can stand up for me?” From the way Jack was having to keep him steady, it was obvious that Mac’s balance had completely gone to shit, but he obediently pushed himself upright and managed to at least keep his knees locked to take his weight. “Alright man, you’re doing great. Let’s get outside and get you sitting down again, yeah?”

Getting Mac outside and into the car turned out to be an exercise in extreme patience. Out of it as he was, he seemed to consistently forget where they were going and why, and made several attempts to turn himself around to go and help Charlie even though he could not more obviously be beyond that particular task. Each time Jack would nudge him back in the right direction with a soft push and a string of gentle words that seemed to more or less do the trick. By the time Mac was carefully folding himself into the passenger seat, the kid was scarcely still conscious.

“That’s right, you just sit there and let Jack get you home, yeah?”

That Mac didn’t even groan in protest at Jack referring to himself in third person said a lot for his mental state. Chuckling to himself, Jack rounded the car and nodded at Bozer who had appeared at the front door to see them off.

“I’ll get the house sorted as soon as I can,” he promised. “Make sure everything’s nice and clean when he gets back.”

“Appreciate that. But make sure you get some rest yourself, okay?” He said sternly, sending him a steady look. “Today’s been a long day for everyone, you included.”

“We’re good Jack. Matty will take good care of me and Riley. You just worry about Mac.”

Jack snorted, momentarily letting his bone-deep exhaustion show on his face. “As if I ever do anything else.”

Mac was thoroughly dead to the world when Jack slid into the driver’s seat beside him, his head tilted awkwardly against the window and his arms wrapped tight around his middle. It looked wildly uncomfortable, but the journey was only short and now that he was actually out for the count, Jack was loath to disturb him until he had to. Instead, he jammed his keys in the ignition and headed for home without another word.

Tired as he was, Jack drove more carefully than he was usually of a mind to and as a result ended up taking a full half-hour to make it to his apartment. Mac didn’t so much as stir the entire time. If it hadn’t been for his breath fogging against the glass of the window, Jack might have resorted to feeling for the pulse in his wrist just to be certain that he really was still there, still in one piece. After everything he’d been through in the last three days, the fact that the worst physical damage he would have to deal with would be a few scrapes and a hefty dose of exhaustion was something of a miracle - and Jack would still trade almost anything for the chance to go back and spare him of all of it. Mac had never deserved the shit that got thrown at him day in and day out, but it rarely came so thick and fast.

And physical condition aside, Jack knew that Mac wasn’t getting away from any of it without some new mental baggage.

But that was a problem for tomorrow, at the earliest. Right now all he had to worry about was getting 6 foot of mostly-catatonic secret agent up several flights of stairs, preferably without drawing any attention. Easy.

Mac did make a valiant attempt at consciousness after a few gentle shakes from Jack, but it was clear the window of opportunity for his ability to hold his own weight had closed some time ago. In the end, it was left to Jack to duck under his shoulder and do his best to balance them both as they hobbled unsteadily up the fire escape. The lobby would have granted them an elevator, but with them both on their last legs, Jack didn’t want the attention.

No doubt they must have looked comical - or perhaps just drunk - but they made it in the end, and without anyone falling down the stairs to boot. Jack was going to count that as a win.

“Mac, you still with me brother?”

There was a vaguely attentive hum. Mac’s eyes didn’t open.

“You happy to share the bed or are you gonna make me sleep on the couch?”

Another hum that Jack chose to take as ambivalence. In truth the question was somewhat redundant - the pair of them had shared far closer quarters than a king-sized bed before, and Mac would never turf Jack out of his own room, especially when he was just as desperately in need of rest. Asking was more of a formality than anything.

There was a second brief deliberation when Jack managed to get them both into the bedroom as he tried to weigh up the chances of him being able to bully Mac into changing into some borrowed sleepwear. In the end, he figured it wasn’t worth the hassle and just calmly battled him out of his jeans and his dust-covered henley before tipping him beneath the covers. With his consciousness waning once more, Mac offered little more than a sleepy grumble as he burrowed down beneath the blanket and went still once more.

With a weary chuckle of genuine relief, Jack ran through his own preparations as quickly as his tired body was capable of before finally, finally folding himself into the other side of the bed. After everything, the sensation was heavenly.

There was a long stretch of motionless silence, broken only by their steady breathing, and Jack felt the fiercely alert, wary section of his brain finally start to cede control to the comforting embrace of sleep. It was over; Mac was safe, the bomb was defused, no one was in prison, and Cage would be just fine after a bit of recovery time. Jack was free to let his guard down at long last.

It wasn’t an easy task. For the next five minutes he struggled with slipping into light dozes that broke off suddenly when his adrenaline spiked, bracing himself against some new danger. He knew that he needed the rest and for once it was legitimately safe to do so, but he had too many years of forcing his body through every possible hardship for it to give up the fight so easily.

Then, as he always managed to do, Mac provided the solution. After the fifth or so time Jack jolted awake, Mac let out a low, displeased huff and wriggled until he was able to reach out a hand and wrap long fingers around Jack’s wrist in a gentle reassurance of his presence. He didn’t even look as though he was awake as he did it - he’d just sensed that Jack needed his help, and had offered it without thought. Lost in his own exhaustion, Jack thought it was almost poetic.

Not that he would know, of course.

Safe at long last, and tangibly aware of Mac’s steady presence at his side, Jack finally let himself sleep.

#i'm sure there were a lot of fics exactly like this when those episodes came out #but im new #let me indulge #macgyver #mac #jack dalton #exhaustion #god i miss jack so much you guys #respect to eads' choices but the show is just not as good without him #still shouldnt have been cancelled though #fuck that

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awkwardspontaneity · 3 years

Text

We Jumped off a Waterfall

Part 6 of Memories of You

BOTW Link x GN!Sheikah!Reader

Prev | Next

Summary: Fighting monsters in search of an important treasure leads to realizations and some embarrassment

regular= present italic= memory

It was a bright and sunny day in Faron. It would have been the perfect day to relax or maybe take Epona for a ride to the springs. Unfortunately even the warmth of the sun couldn’t improve the day, only highlighting the shadow of the largest Hinox Link had ever seen. And it was right on his tail. Or, more accurately, Epona's tail. Link urged Epone faster with his knees, nocking two bomb arrows on Revali’s bow. Directing Epona to curve her path around the Hinox, he loosed the arrows directly at the beast's giant eye. The hinox fell to the ground with a thunderous roar, its arms coming up to hold its eye. Familiar with their routine, Epona raced towards the wailing creature. Link readied himself with his feet on Epona’s saddle and, when she curved in front of the Hinox, he threw himself into the air. Flipping, Link slashed through the Hinox’s gut, landing in front of it as it exploded in a cloud of dark dust.

Link was starting to feel like a glorified errand boy with all the tasks he kept being given. He loved to help people, he really did. Still… Robbie could have at least warned him about the three Hinox’s guarding the shrine he had to find.

Using stasis on the metallic ball, Link and Epona rode up the hill to the hidden shrine for the third time. It was a short trip and the moment the ball hit its place, the ground began shaking. Robbie had informed him that the item he was searching for would be hidden at the end of the shrine trial. The Sheikah had placed it there during Link’s hundred year's rest when the Yiga clan had begun attacking in hopes of finding it. The shrine and its hidden treasure were tucked beneath the earth for safekeeping.

Until now.

------

It turned out that the trial of the shrine was getting the orbs from the Hinox brothers. Link had been quick to collect Robbie’s treasure, some kind of guardian power source that seemed familiar to Link, and a spirit orb from the monk. Once he stepped off the shrine platform Link mounted Epone and began his trip back to the stables. He didn’t get much farther than the area the largest Hinox had been when he heard the rushing water. He supposed he had been too focused on the battles to pay much attention to nature around him. It was nice.

Apparently Epona felt the same as him, because as she trotted to the bottom of the hill she headed to the pond at the bottom of the waterfall. They spent a few moments taking in the beauty of the waterfall, the soft crash soothing as it brought forth memories of his first time at this waterfall.

Link stood panting in ankle deep water. He would have been irritated with the water that would no doubt soak its way through his boots had it not been for the intense battle taking place. Y/n was currently running towards him, closely followed by a giant Hinox.

Robbie had sent them in search of an important treasure his teacher had hidden away in the area. Unfortunately his teacher’s notes had failed to mention the trio of Hinox’s guarding the location. Thoroughly underprepared, the two champions were pressed to take on one Hinox each while dodging the thirds reaching fists. They had managed to find a rhythm of tricking them into hitting each other then rushing the third. The plan worked fairly well, especially with Y/n loosing bomb arrows into their eyes frequently enough to keep them at bay.

Link had finished off the second while Y/n distracted the largest one. Now they would take it down together. It was no doubt low on health after so much slashing, all they had to do was find an opening for the finishing blows. And Link had just found his opening. He rushed out in front of the Hinox, passing Y/n and sliding through the wet grass between the beast's legs. Popping up behind it, Link slashed its legs as hard as he could.

With a roar, the Hinox turned towards Link only to fall to its knees as they gave out beneath it. From behind the wounded creature, Y/n shot up using its shoulders as a springboard. Twisting in the air, Y/n loosed two quick volleys of bomb arrows, each one sticking to its chest. Y/n landed with a roll, shooting one more volley before they grabbed Link by the hand.

They raced into the swirling water and, with a shock, Link realized right towards the waterfall. Even this small waterfall still required jumping from a large enough height and falling. Link tugged on their wrist, urging them to stop and find another way. He didn’t care if he had to shield them himself so long as it meant they wouldn’t have to face their fears again.

“With how many bomb arrows I shot into that beast, it’s gonna be a big blast. We have to get out of range.”

They sounded so confident. They were always confident in their plans even when their body betrayed them. Even now, the tremble in their jaw paired with how tightly they were holding his hand.

Y/n was afraid.

The duo reached the edge and Link squeezed Y/n’s hand. He would be by their side no matter what they faced.

They would never be alone.

They jumped over the edge right as the Hinox lit up in an explosion of malice and guts. As they fell towards the water below Y/n pulled Link closer. They hit the water with a crash. Link popped up from beneath the waterfall, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes. He let out a breathless laugh, sliding his eyes over to Y/n. “We did it Y/n.”

“Y/n?” Where were they? He splashed around frantically trying to see below the rippled water. They hadn’t come up yet. He had let go and now he had lost them. “Y/N!”

The water bubbled next to him and suddenly Y/n popped up. “Link I fou- oh!?”

Link grabbed Y/n as tightly as he could, pulling them into himself. Whatever it was didn’t matter to him. Y/n was safe. “Thank Hylia you’re alright. You didn’t come up, I thought…”

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to let go of your hand.” Y/n wrapped themselves closer to him, their fingers running through his wet hair. “But, I came up beneath the waterfall and found a treasure chest. Might be what we’re looking for.”

Link hummed softly, leaning into their touch. If it didn’t feel so good to have them combing his hair so softly Link would’ve been embarrassed by the soft snort that escaped them. Y/n brought their other hand up to rest lightly on his face and he opened his eyes. This time he did blush. The way Y/n looked at him, the reflection of the water making their eyes glitter like rubies. He reached op, linking their fingers together. Y/n smiled lightly, their face leaning ever so slightly forward.

Splash!

Both champions shot away from each other, scrambling for their weapons. They were met with the sight of their horses standing in the water. Link sheathed his sword with a sigh. He was about to turn to Y/n when his face burned up. Had that really happened? There was a light splash as Y/n dunked their whole head under the surface. Link took the moment to pat his own cheeks with the cool water. Part of him cursed their horses for their timing.

Y/n popped up from the water facing the waterfall. “We should go see if that’s the right chest.”

“Right.”

With a quick dive, the duo found the chest sitting on a single rock behind the waterfall. Link was the first to approach, reaching out to grab hold of the lid. He gave it a firm shake, then another. And then a third to be sure.

“It’s locked.”

“What!?” Y/n reached out giving the chest a shake. When it didn’t budge they groaned.

Link took over, finding a sharp rock and trying to pry it open as he grumbled. “You’d think Robbie would mention their being a key. Or I don’t know. Maybe give us one?”

“Oh!” Y/n snapped their fingers. “I know what to do!”

What Link was not expecting was for them to pull the stick from their hair. It was a thin needle with a red bead strung to the end of it. Y/n always used it to hold back their hair just like the rest of the Sheikah warriors. Strands of wet hair fell around their face. Their brow furrowed as they carefully stuck the needle into the lock. Link was barely watching what they were doing, far too distracted by the way they looked with their hair down.

An audible click echoed in the small cave as Y/n successfully picked the lock. They gave a laugh in victory as they grabbed the glowing power source from the chest. Y/n turned to look at him again only for their breath to catch in their throat at the way he was staring “What?”

“You’re beautiful”

A squeak escaped Y/n as Link choked on his breath. Had he really said that out loud!? “Uh, you’re really beautiful too! Ah wait, I meant handsome? Oh shoot.”

He laughed. Really laughed as Y/n stumbled over their words. They gave a sheepish grin. Both champions laughed, letting loose after how busy they had been. Even if it meant embarrassing themselves, it was nice to be able to let loose and laugh.

“We should get dried off before we catch a cold.” Link nudged Y/n, floating closer to the waterfall with a smirk. “I’ll race you to the horses!”

And he dove under the waterfall.

“What!?”

Y/n dove quickly, racing after their partner. “That’s not fair! You are such a cheater!”

“You’re just too slow!”

"That's my line!" The champions laughed. Once they could stand they raced through the water, pushing and splashing as they ran.

#botw x reader #botw link x reader #link x reader #breath of the wild link x reader #breath of the wild x reader #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #awkwardspontaneity

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farfromharry · 4 years

Text

The one with the makeover | Peter’s girl

Summary: Mj persuades you to give her a makeover after feeling like she isn’t pretty enough for her crush

Word count - 2317

Warnings - i don’t think there is any? possible language?

A/n - i’m really excited for this, if you want to join the taglist for this series you can join here!

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

Peter Parker was head over heels for Liz Allan, and everyone could see it, probably even her too. Some might say it was slightly creepy, others might say it was cute puppy love, but Mj hated it, oh she hated it so much. You couldn’t blame her, because you did too.

The two of you were meant to be meeting Ned and Peter before school to exchange ideas about your Physics project you’d grouped up to work on. The plan was that they’d come over to your apartment to work on it tonight, if everyone stuck to the plan. It seemed like it was always you and Ned that were stuck actually working on it, Peter running off to who knows where, and Mj seemingly too cool to help out.

So here you and Mj were, waiting by Peter’s locker to see if he and Ned would show up as planned, on time, or if they’d be late like usual.

You heard the familiar laughter of the brunette boy before you saw him, prompting you to scan the crowded school hallway for him.

With her height advantage, Mj managed to spot him first, pointing the pair out.

“There they are, finally,” she huffed, nodding her head in their direction. You noticed that the two boys weren’t actually getting any closer to you. They seemed to have just frozen in their spot, staring straight ahead at the end of the hall behind you. You nudged Mj with a look of confusion, pointing out the odd behaviour, not that you weren’t used to their odd behaviour by now.

You both followed Peter’s stare to find his gaze fixated on, guess who? That’s right, Liz.

Your best friend let out a verbal sound of disagreement, slumping against the wall of lockers in defeat. You frowned, your eyes drifting back over to the boys.

“Ned, Peter, over here,” you bit back your smirk as you caught both of their attention, snapping Peter out of his daze. “We’ve been waiting for you guys forever.”

They made their way over to you with small smiles, the four of you starting up conversation. Well, more like the 3 of you, considering Peter was more interested in searching the crowd for Liz.

You placed your hand on his arm, your fingertips tracing the slight fuzz on his blue sweater. He turned to you with big eyes, looking down at your hand before his eyes flickered back up to yours.

“You okay, Pete?”

He nodded, giving you a tight lipped and very unconvincing smile. “Perfectly okay.”

»»——⍟——««

Gym class. A complete waste of time in your best friend’s opinion. Mj hated the class, she’d much rather be reading her book or sketching randomly in a secluded area of the library.

Partner tasks seemed to especially get on her nerves, especially when she was paired up with you. Yes, she loved you, but your level of participation in useless classes such as this one infuriated her. You always wanted to try and get her to join in, making up random excuses and false facts to make exercise seem more appealing.

Your eyes raked over your best friend lying down on the exercise mat, pretty much bench pressing her book while ignoring the sit ups exercise you were all currently meant to be doing.

Your coach was lazily circling the gym every so often, rolling his eyes whenever he caught sight of Mj. This was a consistent thing, Mj refusing to take part in these ‘dumb exercises’ as she called them, when she could be doing something much more worth of her time, like reading her favourite book again. He wasn’t going to question her at this point in the school year, finding it wasn’t worth the fight she’d put up in the end.

You however, had no problem trying to push to get the girl involved.

“Mj come on, if you aren’t going to do them can you at least help me do them?” you asked, using a whiny, childish tone that you knew got on her last nerve.

She rolled her eyes at your whining, placing her book beside the mat on the dirty gym floor with a grimace, folding the corner of her page as a bookmark.

The two of you switched places, having you lie down on the mat while she sat up on her knees. She placed her hands down on your shoes, adding some of her weight on them so you wouldn’t shift every time you sat up, allowing you to do the proper fitness technique that had been instructed by your teacher.

“Why do you even do this anyway,” she sassed. “It’s not like he cares.” She motioned her hand toward your teacher who was practically falling asleep against the Tv cart, his eyes barely even open anymore as he ‘supervised’ the class. Every time he jolted awake he accidentally made the cart roll a couple inches, nearly falling onto his face.

You let out an amused giggle, shaking your head and flashing her your signature cheery smile.

“Because, Michelle, every time I do one I get to see your smiling face,” you teased. She flashed you a sarcastic smile, rolling her eyes at your attempt of poking fun at her.

It was moments like those that often made people question how you and Michelle were actually friends when you were complete opposites.

You were a naturally bubbly person, always trying to make other people happy, very outgoing too, you liked to make lots of friends. Mj however was labelled as ‘dark,’ sad all the time, sarcastic, sometimes considered mean (by the people that didn’t know her.) She liked to keep her circle of friends small and she was pleased with that.

Compared to most people you were considered a ball of happiness and fluff, but compared to Mj you were practically a magical fairy.

“Peter knows Spiderman!” You two shared a look, your head turning in the flustered boy’s direction. You watched uncomfortably as a nervous, red faced Peter Parker stuttered his way through a minor conversation with Liz.

When Flash made a rude comment you fully expected Mj to jump in to Peter’s defense, she normally did when it came to him, who could blame her for not liking the kid.

“Yeah, I’m having a party, you should come.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw her practically deflate, meaning she was letting Peter endure Flash’s pathetic words as some sort of petty punishment. You couldn’t be mad, Peter’s crush on the popular girl was so painfully obvious.

While everyone was distracted by Ned’s outrageous confession, you stood up from the floor and offered out your hand to Mj, sending her a reassuring smile. She sent one back, not a genuine one, but it was enough to tell you that seeing Peter send Liz those puppy, heart eyes hurt her.

“Come on,” you said, tugging on her hand so she hurried up. You led her out of the gym, in the direction of the locker rooms where you could change back into your normal clothes.

“What are we doing?” she asked, following you without hesitation. You just grinned, pushing open the doors to the locker room.

You found your bag on the bench where you left it, pulling out the sweet yellow sundress you wore to school. Mj had made sure to tell you that morning that you looked really good in it, and you were convinced your heart melted a little.

“We’re skipping,” you explained. Her eyes widened, staring at you in disbelief. You bit back your smile as you changed from your awful gym clothes into your dress, pulling on the jacket you brought with you to shield your arms from the cold breeze.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Y/N?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed. You giggled quietly, handing her bag of clothes to her.

“It’s friday and you need cheering up, let’s go have some fun.”

She stared at you like you were some kind of extraterrestrial being, placing the back of her hand on your forehead to make sure your temperature was normal.

“You never do anything rebellious, what’s gotten into you?” she asked. You shrugged, letting out genuinely excited and happy laughter. The noise of your contagious laughter made her smile, deciding she was willing to do whatever you wanted.

“There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

She started to change into the clothes she was wearing earlier. A simple dark pair of jeans, a band tee and a dark brown jacket to top it all off, the ‘classic Mj’ look.

“I guess I’ll support this,” you cheered, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes at you. “But this is one time, don’t let this become a common occurence,” she warned.

“Okay Mom, jeez.” She scoffed, placing her hand over her heart in offense. You didn’t give her time to clapback, taking her hand in yours again.

“Now come on, let’s go.”

»»——⍟——««

The two of you did manage to sneak away without being noticed, something you were both very grateful for, because that wouldn’t have been fun to explain to your parents.

Luckily they weren’t home, so you and Mj decided to hang out in your room, listening to music while making random conversation. She clearly avoided the topic of Peter and you were more than okay with that.

Conversation between you both eventually died down for a little bit, the two of you busying yourselves with your own tasks. You’d chosen to pick up a book, one of Mj’s recommendations of course, while she just laid there quietly.

“Is it because she’s prettier than me?” she asked, completely out of nowhere. You lifted your head from your book, looking at where she laid on her stomach on your bed, cocking your head in confusion.

“Who?”

“Liz,” she mumbled. She’d told you before that Peter drooling over Liz made her sad, and she didn’t why. You’d suggested it could be a small crush, even if she didn’t want to admit it or thought it wasn’t, but you never thought Mj would actually end up being insecure over it.

You frowned, standing up from your desk chair to climb on your bed next to her. She laid her head in your lap, enjoying the way you stroked your fingers over her curls.

You didn’t know what to say, your heart aching as you noticed the saddened look on her face.

“He’s just blind, he doesn’t see this amazing girl in front of him.” Your words clearly hadn’t done much to up lift her, seeing as the next words that came out of her mouth made you want to roll your eyes.

“Can you give me a makeover?” she asked quietly, almost like a scared child. You frowned.

“What do you mean?” She sighed, worried you were going to either make fun of her or scold her for wanting to try and look better for some boy. She sat up across from you and took your hands in hers, a pleading expression on her face.

“Do my hair, my makeup, anything, please.”

You were hesitant at first, and she could tell, but as soon as she flashed you her puppy dog eyes she knew she’d broken you down. You let out a groan, standing up from your bed to move over to where you kept your own makeup.

“Fine, c’mere.”

»»——⍟——««

It didn’t take much to make the girl look beautiful because she didn’t actually need any makeup in your opinion.

“Done,” you smiled, guiding her over to the mirror with her eyes closed. You helped her stand so she’d be able to see, shifting a few of her curls behind her ear so she could get a clearer view of her face. “And, open.”

Her honey eyes fluttered open, a gasp slipping past her lips as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. You stood behind her with a grin, glad to see that she looked happy.

“Look at you,” you whispered, placing your chin on her shoulder and your hands on her upper arms. She scanned herself from head to toe in the mirror, a soft smile creeping onto her face.

“I-I look-“ She was practically speechless.

“Stunning, you look absolutely gorgeous.” She looked down at her hands, beginning to pick at the nail polish on her finger nails. You could tell she was growing shy from the way she refused to look you in the eye, the girl clearly not used to getting compliments. “But you always look gorgeous, and who cares what he thinks?”

She took a deep breath, nodding her head and standing a little straighter.

“Yeah, who cares what he thinks, he’s just a dumb boy.” You cheered quietly, happy that you were able to make her smile after her awful mood earlier this afternoon.

“Who’s a dumb boy?” Both of your heads snapped in the direction of your bedroom door, a silent gasp slipping past your lips as you saw Peter and Ned standing there awkwardly.

You and Mj shared a nervous look, silently making a pact to keep that information to yourselves. You grew slightly flustered feeling Peter’s gaze burn into the side of your head, but you ignored it the best you could.

“Uh, no one important,” you reassured. You saw Peter’s eyes widen when his vision drifted to Mj, noticing how her face looked a little different.

“Wow Mj, you look-“ He was lost for words, trying his best to compliment one of his friends. He saw her smile falter slightly and he quickly sputtered out a word. “Beautiful.”

Her eyes bulged, an unintentional grin spreading across her face. Meanwhile your heart was breaking, part of you wishing the world would just swallow you up.

However, Ned came to save the day. “So, the project?”

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow

#peter parker series #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker #tom holland

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

Text

Little Lion | Ron x Reader

Prompt as requested by 2 anons: Naturally as a Slytherin, you exude confidence and intimidation. Ron Weasley, on the other hand, not so much. But that’s what made you so attracted to the other, much to everyone else’s surprise. Question is will he muster up the courage to ask you to go to the Yule Ball with him?

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: IMPORTANT NOTE: I know, I know, I know, the Yule Ball is only around for the Triwizard Tournament, but let’s pretend like it doesn’t exist just then!! I wanted to age everyone up to year six and give Ron and opportunity to redeem himself from the robes his mother sent him hehe. I literally am a fucking fiend for Ron Weasley, my love for him should be ILLEGAL. Ron content on here is MINIMAL TO NONE! If anyone has any great fic recs for Ron, PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY. LOOK AT THAT MOTHERFUCKER!! I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

All it took was for you to walk down the hall to get people to look at you and start whispering between each other. It wasn’t a bad thing at all, in fact you quite liked it. You were a confident girl and sometimes that confidence intimidated people. It gave you this sense of power that you liked to use when you needed something out of someone. Not to mention the people you surrounded yourself with in your house were also quite intimidating people, one of them being Draco Malfoy.

You and Draco were best friends, a dynamic duo of sorts. People thought that you two would end up together, falling madly in love. But Draco was like your brother. He took you under his wing when you got Hogwarts and he was the person who helped you unlock that unfaltering confidence within you. Besides, Draco and you’s personalities clashed too much for it to work with you. You were both dominant, confident, intimidating people; Both of you needed to be in control at all times. Far too similar.

Instead, you took a liking to people who were more reserved. People who thought before they acted upon their impulses. You needed someone who balanced you out. But someone who could dominate you and keep you at bay when you needed it. Only problem was people like that were scared of you or found you unapproachable. Which you understood, but at the same time, you wished that those people could suck it up and make a move.

As you walked down the hall today, Draco made his way next to you. “We should skip Potions today,” he states as you roll your eyes. Sometimes Draco kept this cool boy act up too much and you knew he was a big softie on the inside and he actually enjoyed school more than he liked to admit. “Seriously. We could ditch Slughorn’s class and hang out in the common room or by the Black Lake,” he tries to tempt you.

“Dray, we’re going to class whether you like it or not,” you speak as you continue to walk to class, Draco groaning when you tell him this. “Slughorn is may be old, but he says valuable things,” you push his shoulder.

The blonde boy just sighs. “I hate when you’re right.”

The both of you walk into Potions class, your face lighting up when you see that your other friends from Slytherin were already in class, awaiting your arrival. You grab a seat with Draco on your right and Pansy on your left. Pansy already starts gossiping about people who you could honestly care less about, but you give her the attention she wants anyway, her being one of your closest girl friends in the school.

As she blabs on about some poor girl from Hufflepuff that she picked on during lunch, you watch as some Gryffindors enter the classroom, your eyes sticking on the Weasley boy. Ron Weasley was someone who you watched from afar. He was one of those boys who had that boyish charm that made you blush. The ginger was funny, for sure, but he had thoughtful and kind mannerisms that made your heart flutter when you watched him. You picked up on how he would notice when Granger would get distressed and he would offer her a sweet from his backpack that he had stored for occasions like this. You watched how he always packed more than one quill because Potter always managed to forget his. You watched how his eyes widened with fear when Slughorn would talk about how Potions can go wrong quickly, the Weasley boy fearfully concocting his. All of those little ticks made you develop a little crush on him after months of watching him.

Ron sat down in his typical seat next to Hermione and Harry, but he could feel a set of eyes on him from the moment he walked into the classroom. “Is she looking at me?” he nervously asks Harry.

Harry glances over in your direction, watching that your eyes were glued on Potter’s best friend. When you notice Harry looking at you, you quickly turn away and pay attention to Pansy who continues to ramble. “She was,” Harry reports back. Ron nervously groans. “Oh come on, maybe she has a crush on you.”

“I highly doubt it. I bet she’s planning how to rip my heart out of my chest and then serve it to Malfoy on a silver platter,” his voice cracks. “She scares me.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, “Oh, please, Ronald. Just because the girl is confident and knows what she wants doesn’t make her scary; it makes her smart. I don’t know why she would have a crush on someone like you.”

Ron just looks at Hermione. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he exclaims.

With a huff, Hermione turns to Ron and Harry. “It means I’m surprised that she doesn’t have a crush on someone like Draco or Blaise Zabini. She likes someone like you, Ronald. Merlin, I didn’t think I would have to spell it out for you,” she turns back to the board, ready to start class.

Your conversation with Pansy is interrupted when Professor Slughorn appear in front of the classroom and starts class, telling you to get into pairs. You turn to Draco, who was always your partner, Pansy with Blaise, Crabbe with Goyle. Everyone in the class regardless of their houses worked with the same people. Slughorn notices this and asks, “How about we switch it up and work with different people?” This earns a chorus of groans from the class. “I’m glad all of you are so eager to work with each other,” he says sarcastically. “I’ll assign the partners.” This earns more groans from the class.

Slughorn starts to pair people up with each other. You start to think that Slughorn is trying to make drama in the class when he starts. “Parkinson and Potter,” he announces.

“You’re bloody joking,” Pansy huffs making you laugh with Draco, making Pansy turn beet red. She grabs her things and moves to a work table in the back of the classroom.

Slughorn continues to rattle off names of unlikely duos. “Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy,” Slughorn continues as you have to stifle your laugher and Draco whispers multiple profanities, slapping your shoulder, him grabbing his things in a huff. Hermione was definitely not happy about this pairing either as she has a scared look on her face as she looks at Ron before she moves to the back tables. “Miss (Y/L/N) and Mr. Weasley,” Slughorn announces.

Your heart quite literally stops and Ron looks like a deer in headlights. You did not expect this pair to happen. You can hear Draco cackling in the back of the classroom as you whip your head around. “Shut it, you nitwit,” you spit at him as he continues to laugh. You grab all of your belongings and make your way to a back table as Ron follows. Draco is still laughing, so you waste no time, slapping him upside the head, him letting out an ow! as you do so. “Bloody moron,” you huff at him before plopping down at a table with a shy Ron next to you. It is awkward.

Slughorn calls out the last few partners before giving you the assignment for the day. After he finished speaking, the class is silent for a long beat before the small chatter beings. You turn to Ron and offer him a small smile which he nervously reciprocate. The poor bloke is afraid of me, you think too yourself. “-so-”

“-um-”

The both of you talk at the same time. “You go,” you insist to Ron.

He shakes his head. “No, no, go ahead, I don’t even know what I was going to say, something stupid probably,” he tells you. His comment makes you lightly laugh. You suggest how you should start the task given. “Yep, much smarter than what I was going to say.”

You laugh again, “I’m sure what you were going to say was not stupid, Ron.” You had him a few vials of liquids needed to craft this potion. He carefully takes them from your hands and you notice how he actively avoids touching his hands against yours as if they were poison. Your heart kind of sinks at this. Were you that intimidating to him? You start, “You know,” you grab a pair of gloves, “I don’t bite. I know other people in the school say otherwise, but I’m not that bad.”

Ron gives you a genuine smile and laughs, looking down as his feet. “I’m sure you don’t,” he tells you as you blush lightly. “I guess pretty girls scare me.” Your heart rate picks up at the compliment, gulping a little bit, not making eye contact, too scare to. This was so unlike yourself. Ron clears his throat, “Anyway, let’s start, shall we?”

Within thirty minutes, you and Ron have completed all of the assignments for today’s class. You still had thirty minutes left of class, but Slughorn comes over. “Everything looks right to me!” he exclaims with excitement. “Well done, Miss (Y/L/N) and Mr. Weasley! Since you’ve completed your work, I can dismiss you early from class!”

“What? That’s rubbish!” yells Draco from the other side of the room. You stick your tongue out at him before grabbing your things and thanking Slughorn for the great class.

You and Ron exit the class. “Job well done, indeed,” you laugh as you nudge Ron’s shoulder as he laughs. The two of you walk side by side down the hall. “Um, well, I guess I’ll see you around, Weasley.”

Starting to walk in the opposite direction, you hear Ron call, “Wait! Uh...” You turn around to see Ron behind you. “I have nothing to do for the rest of the day, and I was, um, do you wanna hang out by the Black Lake? I had snacks that I stole from the kitchen this morning.”

You cannot prevent the smile that forms across your lips. “Yeah, sounds fun.”

Ron’s lips form a cheeky grin. “Wicked.”

The two of you made your way to the Black Lake, making small talk here and there until you reached your destination. The both of you sat side by side on the grass as Ron handed you a bag of crisps from his backpack as you thank him for the snack. “So,” he starts, “this might be a weird question, but...why are you friends with people like Malfoy and Parkinson?”

You smile and lightly laugh at the question. “Draco and I are like siblings. He’s the brother I never had. When I got to Hogwarts, as hard as it may be to believe, I was really shy. I didn’t talk to many people and he took me under his wing. He helped me find my voice. I owe that to him. But that’s all that Draco and I are. Friends,” you stress, trying to express that you and Draco’s relationship was simply platonic. Ron nods. “Pansy on the other hand, she and I became friends because of Draco, but to be honest, she annoys me more than she does entertain me.”

This makes Ron laugh. “I thought I was the only one who found her dreadful,” he chuckles.

“What about you? Why are you friends with Harry and Hermione?” you ask him before munching on a chip.

Ron takes a deep breath in. “Like you said, Harry’s my brother. He gets me into deep shit, but he’s my brother.” You laugh at his passing joke, Ron looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “But seriously, Harry and I met on the train to Hogwarts. He and I have been inseparable since. Hermione, on the other hand, butt her way into Harry and I’s friendship. Again, she gets me into some deep shit, too, but here I am...The two of them are much braver than I am though, so I don’t quite understand why they think I’m a good addition to this team.”

You nudge his shoulder. “I disagree with that,” you speak truthfully. “You’re a Gryffindor! You’re like a lion,” you shimmy your shoulders, making him laugh.

“A little lion,” he retorts.

“More of a lion than I am,” you counter, making him blush.

-------

More classes like this came along. You and Ron partnered up and finished your assignment for the day early, escaping class to hang out by the lake, eat snacks, and clown around. The more time you spent with Ron, the more comfortable you were with each other. But most of your interactions were limited to Potions class and your Blake Lake encounters. Other than that, you hung out with different people, spend your free time doing different things. This made you both cherish your private moments more.

You sat by the Black Lake today, eating biscuits that your mom sent in a parcel to you. As you munched, you spoke, “The Yule Ball is coming up.” The mention of the Yule Ball makes the both of you tense. Neither of you had dates yet and you both secretly hoped the other wanted to go with each other. “You reckon you know who you want to ask?”

Ron munches on his biscuit quietly before swallowing. “Not really,” he lies through his teeth. I want to take you, Ron thinks. “What about you?” You shake your head no. I want to go with you, you think. “I’m sure you’ll have someone ask you, (Y/N). How could you not get a date? Look at you,” he tells you as you blush.

You wanted to scream at him to ask you. That you wanted him to take you to the Yule Ball so you didn’t have to go with someone like Crabbe or Goyle. But you don’t. You just sit and finish your biscuit. “I think I’m gonna head back,” you confess, not really wanting to stay any longer with Ron no matter how much you actually wanted to capitalize on your time with him.

As you rise, Ron watches you gather your things. You bloody idiot, just say it, he thinks to himself. Mustering up all of the confidence he has, Ron stands up and stops you. “(Y/N)?” he asks, stopping you from walking away from him. You look at the Weasley, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Ron takes a deep breath in and then says, “Go to the Yule Ball with me.”

Your heart flutters and the biggest smile appears on your face followed by beet red cheeks. Ron stares at you, relishing in how beautiful you look in this moment with kind eyes and rosy cheeks. “Okay. Yes,” you shake your head, making Ron smile wide.

“Brilliant,” he whispers, picking up his bag, walking back to the castle with you. “I’m glad you said yes.”

Nudging his shoulder, you tease, “Well, you didn’t make it a question, little lion.” Ron chuckles. “I would have said yes either way,” you admit.

-----

The Yule Ball rolled around and you were ball of nerves and excitement. You couldn’t wait to just go downstairs and see Ron and spend the evening with him. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing your hands over the satin crimson fabric of your dress. You smiled to yourself, you chose this dress mostly because of how beautiful it was, but also knowing it was the colors of Gryffindor. You wanted everyone to know who you were at the dance with. You were wearing these colors with pride tonight.

Before you made your way to the ball, you met up with Draco. “Wow,” he claps as you walk towards him, you rolling your eyes. “You look stunning,” Draco tells you as you smile.

“You look fine,” you shrug as Draco teasingly slapping your shoulder. “I’m kidding, Malfoy, you look great.”

Draco offers you his arm as you both make your way to the hall where the Ball was. “I never asked you,” Draco says, “who was the lucky bloke who asked you?”

As you turn the corner to the hall, there Ron was, dressed in a black suit with a jacket that was a smidge too big on him. Probably a hand-me-down from Fred or George. Regardless, Ron looked handsome as ever. Your heart thumped out of your chest when you saw him. “Him,” you whisper breathlessly.

Draco chuckles at first because he thinks you’re kidding. “You’re going with a Weasley?” he asks in disbelief. You ignore his snide comment, disjoining you from Draco, and you walk over to Ron. Draco turns to Zabini, “Did you know she was going with Weasley?” Zabini shakes his head. “What has gotten into her?”

Ron feels as if he may faint. You looked absolutely breathtaking in your dress of crimson, hair perfectly falling to frame your face. He felt like a fish out of water in his older brother’s old suit, but his thoughts were pushed aside when you approached him. “You are gorgeous,” he blurts, making you blush. “I can’t believe you’re my date,” he lightly laughs, grabbing your hand. “I’m the luckiest guy here.”

Smiling at the boy in front of you, you squeeze his hand. “I can’t believe you’re my date,” you confess. “I have the kindest, handsomest boy as my date to the Yule Ball.” Ron blushes a deep shade of red, almost matching your dress. “You want to go in, lion?” you call him his nickname. Ron nods and guides you inside to the ball.

-----

The Yule Ball was fun for the first hour and a half. But soon enough you grew tired of dancing and jumping around. Ron looked over at you and spoke over the music, “You wanna get out of here?” You don’t even have to answer him, you just grab his hand and start making your way out. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs.

When you are outside of the hall, Ron tells you, “Give me one minute. I need to grab something from my room before we go. I’ll be right back.”

You watch him leave, a big smile on your face as you smooth out the material of your dress. This night felt nothing short of magical. Ron was a gentleman, making you laugh, dancing with you the whole night, making sure you were comfortable. He was perfect.

“You went to the ball with Weasley? (Y/N), you can do so much better,” Pansy laughs from behind you. “He’s a complete git.” Anger starts to rise in your chest. “You really could have anyone in this school and you chose the man who wears his brothers’ old clothes. He can barely stand up for himself, he has to let Granger fight his battles for him.”

“Will you shut it, Parkinson?” you snap. “Just because Draco didn’t ask you to the Yule Ball doesn’t mean you have to pick on everyone else’s dates because you are unhappy that you had to settle for Goyle. It’s not my fault that you get upset when people are happier than you. So how about this? Keep your opinions to yourself, because I can assure you no one wants to hear them. Not me, not Draco, no one.” Pansy’s face turns sheet white. “I like Ron. I think he’s brilliant. And I’m going to enjoy my night with him.”

The silence between you is deafening when you finish. Pansy just stares at you as you catch your breath from yelling at her. You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Spinning around, you see Ron behind you. You wished you could feel embarrassed right now, but you don’t. You just grab his hand and leave a shocked Pansy behind. “Merlin, remind me not to make you angry,” Ron diffuses the situation, brilliantly. You laugh at him before intertwining your fingers, leaving the Ball behind and escaping to your signature spot.

Draco leaves the hall and sees you leaving with Ron, hands clasped together. “Can you believe her?” Pansy asks Draco.

Draco just looks at Pansy. “I don’t care who she’s with. As long as she’s happy and they make her happy. That’s all you should care about too,” he speaks before walking away from Pansy with Crabbe and Goyle not too far behind him.

Soon, you and Ron arrive to Black Lake and sit beside each other on the grass in your ball attire, not caring if it gets dirty at this point. You look out at the lake as it shimmers in the moonlight. The night was beautiful. Just chilly. Ron immediately notices you shiver and without hesitation, he takes off his suit jacket and places it over your shoulders. “You don’t have to,” you insist.

“Yes, I do. Don’t want you to get sick now, do we?” Ron smiles at you, wrapping an arm behind you carefully as you lean into him.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, you resting your head on his shoulder as he lays his head on yours. “What did you have to grab from your room?” you curiously ask him.

You can feel Ron smile against your hair. “Reach into my jacket pocket. The left one.” You do so and pull out a small red rose. Its petals were lightly crushed from being pushed into his suit jacket pocket. You look up at Ron, eyebrows furrowed as if to say what’s this all about? “I wanted to get you a whole bouquet, but they wouldn’t have fit in my pocket,” he jokes as you laugh. “I like you, (Y/N). A lot. I like spending time with you and being around you. You make me happy. So, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend?”

His confidence is palpable. You’d been rubbing off on him. He must have been rubbing off on you because there is a deep shade of red on your cheeks, you feel almost unable to speak. You finally find the words and say, “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Weasley.”

Ron smiles big and just gawks at you. “You’re my girlfriend now?”

“I’m your girlfriend,” you repeat as he laughs. “And you’re my little lion now.”

The two of you just look at each other for a moment before he speaks, “I’m going to kiss you...if that’s okay.” You nod your head and close the gap in between you two. The kiss is gentle and his lips are soft against yours. He kisses you like he is afraid of breaking you. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you in closer. You smile lightly into the kiss before pulling away slowly. “Bloody hell,” he whispers, inches from your face. “I’m so glad that this went better than I expected,” he admits as you laugh at your boyfriend.

#ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #ron imagine #ron x reader #ron x you #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley oneshot #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron weasly #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

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hoodedguitarist · 3 years

Text

Luminescence

Gif not miiinee Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn x Jedi!Reader

Summary: You and Qui-Gon find yourselves on one of the lesser known, lesser visited planets. Having narrowly escaped a sudden attack from some raiders, you and your crew have landed on this serene and beautiful planet to make a few repairs and take a break before returning to Coruscant.

Warnings: Fluff, Mush, Kisses, Confessions, not held responsible for any cavities you may develop whilst/after reading this. :D

Notes: Apparently there’s a serious shortage of Qui-Gon x Reader fics?? This is what I heard. I’m doing my part, saving the fangirls and all. Qui-Gon is one of my absolute favorite characters but I can’t bring myself to write a smut thing for him. @chadillacboseman this is the best I can do. This is for you my dear <3 I hope you like it. Also, I just made this planet up on the fly. ALSO also, loosely based off of this beautiful poem. Can you tell I want to go to a bioluminescent bay? Cause I do. Ok I’ll shut up now.

The ship had been in a good enough condition to land properly. Luckily, none of the raiders had followed, but repairs were needed before you could continue.

“This planet is peaceful,” Qui-Gon assured you and the other two who were with you. “And I’m sure they will have the part that we need. It’s a simple enough task. Jado, Tyla?”

“We know what to look for and we know what we need,” Jado, the mechanic, answered. He gave a reassuring smile and a nod.

“Good. In that case, we will stay here with the ship,” Qui-Gon motioned to himself and you.

“Are you sure it’s safe enough to send them out on their own?” You asked gently. “Shouldn’t one of us go?”

“We can take care of it,” Tyla, the pilot, promised. “We don’t need the Jedi constantly watching over us, we’ve got our blasters and know how to use them,” she smirked.

“Clumsy and random,” you quipped back with a smile.

“Not in our hands,” Jado chuckled. He nudged Tyla. “Come on, let’s head out. We’ll try to be back before dark.”

The pilot and the mechanic made their way off the ship, and you and Qui-Gon were alone. You couldn’t help but be a little worried. You weren’t very familiar with this planet and had certainly never visited. He sensed your unease and stepped over to you, looking down into your eyes.

“It’s alright, my dear,” he assured, sliding a hand onto your shoulder. His touch comforted you and made a warmth spread through your chest. He gave you a knowing smile. “I told you, this planet is peaceful. My instincts tell me we won’t have any trouble.”

You raised a brow, amusement written on your face. “Qui, when are we not in trouble? This whole situation was caused because trouble found us. And don’t try to quell me with your sweet talk, it won’t work.”

You and Qui-Gon weren’t really together… You went on an awful lot of missions together, though, and you flirted a lot. It was mild when people were around but when you were alone, it always seemed a bit more serious. He always made your heart beat a touch faster and gave your stomach butterflies.

You were also at least half sure that his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, could sense something between the two of you, but he never said anything. Obi wasn’t there, though… And the realization that you and Qui-Gon were alone together suddenly hung heavy in the air.

“I am not trying to quell you,” he had a soft laugh in his voice. “I would never try to do such a thing to you, I only mean to reassure you.”

“Well, perhaps I would feel better if I explored a little outside. I’ve always heard this place is beautiful at night but this is my first time being here.”

“Ynirro is known for its magical oceans and white beaches. If you want to explore, I will stay with the ship.”

“What’s so magical about the oceans?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“When night falls, I will show you,” He had that look about him, that look that clearly said he knew something that you didn’t. It was mischievous, but endearing. “For now, stay in sight of the ship. I know the beach is close by, but wait for me. I wish to see it with you.”

“That’s very romantic of you, Master Qui-Gon,” you teased softly, placing your hand over his that still lay on your shoulder. His smile faded and was replaced with a more thoughtful look. Your chest tightened in slight panic. Did you say something wrong? Was that too much?

His features soon softened, though, and a gentle smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He lifted his thumb and ran it along your fingers, even going so far as to clasp your hand in his. His blue eyes locked earnestly with yours.

“Only for you,” his sincerity startled you a bit. Your heart began to race. He took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Go on, go do your exploring. I’ll be right here.”

“Alright…” You barely managed the word. It came out as more of a soft breath than an actual word. He had enraptured you and your skin now tingled pleasantly where his lips had touched. You took a step back but squeezed his hand gently one last time. He returned it before you both reluctantly let go.

When you finally made it outside you had a chance to take a breath and calm yourself down. Of course, the first thing that popped into your mind was the Jedi Council. They hung like a little grey cloud over your head, always watching, always wary. You and Qui-Gon were not like the other Jedi. The both of you followed the will of the Force more than the code, often going against the Council’s wishes at times. If they found out about this, they would not be pleased and you ran the risk of being kicked out.

You blinked and had found that your feet had already started walking while your brain went in another direction. Your eyes took in your surroundings, noticing the lush greenery of the forest and taking in the sweet scents of tropical flowers that bloomed around you. It was a paradise, that much was certain. You made a note to come back to Ynirro when you had free time, if only for a slight vacation… And maybe you wouldn’t be alone.

“What am I thinking?” You said softly to yourself. “Kai Adi-Mundi has four wives!” You shook your head. There was no way that you were going to let the council control that part of your life. You and Qui-Gon seemed to share a bond, even from the moment you first met. The both of you always knew what the other was thinking or feeling… Dare you even think that you shared a bond within the Force? That it led you both to each other?

Your heart leapt at the idea and you glanced back in the direction of the ship. You would try not to get your hopes up, however. You didn’t want to jump the gun, or blaster as it were. You were sure he was thinking through a few things as well with the time that he had. Instead, you turned and walked into another direction, letting your fingers ghost over the soft petals of a blue flower. The sun would be gone soon but it would give you both enough time to think before nightfall.

~*~

Twilight was fading and it had grown darker as you made your way back to the ship. A few lights were on and the platform was extended still. You smiled and adjusted your robes before heading up into the ship.

“Qui-Gon?”

“There you are,” he turned, smiling at you. “Well, do you feel better now? More at peace?”

“I do. Not just with Ynirro but with a few other things that were on my mind as well.”

“I did the same while you were gone. Night has fallen but I would like to wait for Tyla and Jado to return-” A noise cut his sentence off and the both of you looked back to see the two in question come in.

“We got the part!” Jado said excitedly. “Tyla and I will get to work on it right away.”

“Take your time, don’t rush,” you said gently. “The ship must be fixed properly and if we have to stay here overnight, so be it.”

“I agree. A rushed job is often a poor one,” Qui-Gon said wisely.

“We’ll take our time,” Tyla promised. “We’ll get it done right and be back in Coruscant before you know it.”

“Well, we’re going to observe the beach. I hear the ocean is quite a sight to behold. When you two finish, come and join us. I promise you won’t be disappointed,” Qui-Gon put a gentle hand on the small of your back and you stood up a little straighter, your smile widening.

“We will! Have fun!” Tyla chirped before she began to rummage around in a box of tools.

You and Qui-Gon both headed out and into the warm night air. You couldn’t hide the excitement now that the two of you were alone. “I can’t wait!” You walked close to him, looking up at him. “What is it? Can you give me a hint? Is it creatures of some kind that live in the ocean?”

Qui-Gon tilted his head a little and smirked. “To a degree, yes,” he gave you a sideways glance. “But that is all I will tell you. Come, take my hand,” he stopped and held his hand out. Your eyes met and you smiled, sliding your hand into his. He laced your fingers together and led you through the bushes. You noticed that there was a faint blue glow coming from up ahead. You stayed close to him, your hand tightening in his with anticipation. The glow was calm, soft, and became brighter the closer you got to it.

Suddenly, the terrain changed beneath your feet and you noticed the white sands. You were at the shore line.

“Close your eyes,” Qui-Gon’s voice was right at your ear. You could feel his breath brush down your neck and it made your lips part. A soft breath left you and you turned to look up at him. The both of you were a mere inch away from each other. He smiled at you and let his eyes run over your face for a moment before his free hand came up. He pushed a stray strand back from your face and curled it behind your ear. His fingertips ghosted down the shell of your ear and down along your neck. “Close your eyes, love,” he whispered.

You nodded, licking your lips and taking a deep breath. Your eyes fluttered shut and you tightened your grip on his hand just a little. Your other hand came up and you placed it on his arm. There was the sound of leaves being pushed apart and Qui-Gon tugged you gently in his direction. You stepped forward, being careful of the sudden thickness of the sand. You could feel that you were actually on the beach now, having cleared the tree-line.

Qui-Gon carefully lead you further and further until he stopped and you stopped with him.

“Alright, open your eyes,” he whispered. You did as you were told and what you saw made your jaw drop and your eyes widen.

The ocean waters of Ynirro were shimmering with beautiful blue lights. It was as if the stars had fallen and landed in the waters, making the oceans their new home. As the waves rolled up onto the white sandy shores, the lights brightened when the water stirred them, and then they calmed again when they floated back into the sea.

“Qui-Gon…” Your voice was breathless with awe, your eyes transfixed on the enchanting sight before you. In all your years of being a Jedi, all the places it had taken you, you had never seen something so beautiful.

“Microscopic bioluminescent creatures. They live in the oceans and soak up the sun's rays during the day, then put the stars to shame at night,” he explained.

You were enraptured by the sight before you…

And Qui-Gon was enraptured by you.

The way the lights bathed you in a soft blue glow. It shined in your hair, on your face, in your eyes. He was taken with the sight of you and loved to see you in such pure wonder.

Your senses pricked at you lightly and you blinked, turning your gaze away from the sight, only to see Qui-Gon already looking at you. You felt a blush try to crawl up your neck, but you smiled and laughed softly. “Qui, this is the most… Amazing thing I’ve ever seen. It’s so beautiful.”

“It is… Beautiful…” His voice was soft and his eyes never left yours. Your hands were still clasped. You stood side by side, both bathed in the glow. He turned to face you and his hand came up again, cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb ran across your cheek bone and you gave a soft in-take of breath.

“Qui-Gon...” His name was a plea on your lips, a soft begging lilt as you leaned into his touch. You placed your hand over his and your eyes darted to his lips. That was all the indication he needed. The Jedi Master leaned down and captured your lips in a slow, loving kiss.

Your eyes shut and you leaned into the kiss, a peace settling over you. It was as if this kiss was the last missing peace, the last thing that was needed to solidify the bond growing between you. You wrapped your hand gently around his wrist, rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand that still cupped your cheek. He let go of your hand in favor of sliding it around the curve of your waist and pulling you closer.

It felt like your heart had grown wings, like it wanted to flutter out of your chest. Your free hand slid along the back of his neck and into his long hair. There was no space left between the two of you. Qui-Gon had pulled you flush against him and he had deepened the kiss. Your lips moved slowly against each other, savoring the moment and every feeling. You were sure you’d never been kissed so passionately and so lovingly in your life.

He pulled back, only barely, and your eyes opened and met again.

“I love you,” he admitted. “I cannot hide it any longer and I don’t care what the Council thinks.”

“The Council doesn't need to know,” you answered without missing a beat. “They are already in our lives too much. They already root around in matters that should not concern them.”

Qui-Gon smiled at this and rubbed his nose against yours. “Then this will be ours. This moment, this love, this bond we share, it is ours and is of no concern to anyone else.”

“Except perhaps Obi-Wan,” you teased softly. Qui-Gon chuckled, low and warm.

“He is clever, but I trust him. If he does know or if he figures out, I know he will keep our secret safe.”

“Good…” You rested your forehead against his, running your fingers gently through the loose part of his hair. “I love you Qui-Gon…” You whispered.

He ran his fingers through your hair and pulled you close again, kissing you deeply while you bathed in the celestial glow of the luminescent waves.

Yeah, I’m soft and cryin a little, not gonna lie. We’re all just gonna pretend Qui-Gon lives and yall live happily ever after, training Anakin and Obi-Wan and Anakin grows up with a stable father figure in his life and doesn’t turn to the dark side. Palps gets OUTED like the trash he is and Anakin and Padme have lil Luke and Leia and You and Qui-Gon become like the most awesome grandparents in the galaxy. THE END

*takes a deep breath*

Thanks for reading everyone! I headcanon that Qui-Gon is on some serious romantic level shit. Like that man will make you feel loved, give you all the passion, and make sure you feel it deep down in your soul.

As always, if you wanna be added to the tags list just shoot me a message! Inbox/asks is always open. If I hit 200 followers I’ll do some drabble requests. Never done that before, sounds fun and chaotic. I’m here for it!

Tagslist: @the-grey-jedi @hayley-the-comet @pinkiemme @swordandstar @chadillacboseman

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