#feel giddy in my new room this morning and the house feels crowded with my two main characters.

[romanromulus]

finished a read thru of the first draft of my novel and I loved it. loved it. it didn’t deliver on any of the themes, the emotional beats didn’t hit, revelations were glossed over, the characters were more or less cardboard, and I read it in one sitting and couldn’t stop. I loved it. in fact I feel deeply sad about having to rewrite it from scratch because I’m so attached to this flawed little mess. I’m in love with the shadow of the thing, even though I know I’ll love the thing itself even more. oh I’m having a romantic moment. i’m so happy and i’m so scared and so excited and i’m in love! I can’t wait to start the second draft and at the same time i’m putting off starting it. big weird feelings and all of them are gooey

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Nothing New

James Wilson x peds!reader

"How long will it be cute All this crying in my room Whеn you can't blame it on my youth And roll your eyes with affеction?"

description - y/n meets someone from her past and she becomes a casualty in his sick game.

warnings - swearing, major angst, discussions of a nude picture, said nude picture being made public, revenge porn, discussions of sexual assault and rape, crying, physical assault, men not understanding, not a particularly happy ending.

word count - 1.3k

authors note - based on the lyrics of Taylor Swifts 'Nothing New'. This is very much a personal expression of how I feel about situations like these, specifically the way women are usually treated in them. If anyone has gone through anything like the things I've mentioned, my messages are always open if you need to talk to someone.

Masterlist

Requests open - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

I slumped down the hallways. Today was not my day. I had just concluded that 2 out of the 3 children recently submitted into my care, were not going to make it.

“Hey, princess.”

I froze. That nickname. That voice. I turned around and, instead of being greeted by my Prince Charming, I looked into the eyes of the devil himself.

“Josh. Hi.” But my voice only held faux politeness.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m the new Head of Cardio.”

“Really? I wouldn’t say you’re very good handling hearts.”

“Oooo burn. Seriously, y/n, it’s good to see you again.” He places his hand on my shoulder and strokes it with his thumb. It felt foreign now.

“Thank you. It is actually nice to see you too. You’re looking well.”

“You too. You look really good.” He gave my body a brief once over and then landed back on my eyes. I hated how he still had this power over me, that a part of me still felt giddy when I saw him. 4 years don’t just get erased from a person completely, and, even though my body had a bit of muscle memory, my heart still knew its true place was with James.

“You know, I’m new in town. I don’t really have any friends yet so how about we get a drink tonight. Catch up.”

“I would, but I don’t trust you.”

“What do you mean, honey?” he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“That! That is what I mean. And I don’t want you to try and say I led you on so you should know, I’m seeing someone.”

“Really? Who?” He says giggling in disbelief.

“James Wilson, Head of Oncology.”

“Well, you did always have a thing for head.” I shoved his shoulder, not believing he was talking about me like this in our place of work.

“This conversation’s over.” I briskly left. But as I was leaving, I missed the punch Josh delivered into the wall and the flash of anger that overcame his face.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*James’ pov*

I arrived to work alone this morning. Y/n had stayed overnight to watch over an emergency patient. I desperately wanted her to come home to a proper bed, promising her she’d have her pager right next to her, but I knew she wouldn’t. That wasn’t the type of person she was.

I walked in carrying the sports bag I’d packed for her filled with essentials: toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, change of underwear, some normal clothes, and fluffy socks to keep her comfortable. I even packed one of those under eye face packs she uses just so she doesn’t feel like her face looks like death.

Before I even made it to my office I was nearly tackled to the floor by House.

“I don’t know whether to congratulate you on your girlfriends body or beat you to death with my cane!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It wasn’t you?”

“What wasn’t?”

“Out of curiosity, did you walk past the noticeboard on the 3rd floor by any chance?”

“No, I didn’t come in that way. Why?”

“I think you better come with me.”

We make our way down to the 3rd floor and House directs my attention to the noticeboard. Many men and a few women are crowded around it, all eyes seem to be directed to a photo. I shove my way past. There I see it. Before I can think of anything else, I rip it down and shout at everyone to get back to work. I storm off to my office.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

The door to James’ office was ripped open. I cowered further into the couch afraid of who it could be. My fragile frame was revealed, and his eyes landed on my face. I had stopped crying a while ago, but the tears still stained.

“You know, they always tell girls to go out and have fun but then they just love to hunt the ones who actually do it.”

James went to approach me, “Baby, I am so sorry.” But I held my hand up. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

He relented and sat on his office chair. Affording me the space I so desperately wanted.

We both just sat there in silence. James afraid to speak when I didn’t want him too, and me without the words.

“Do you want to know the story.”

“Only if you feel comfortable to-“

“Oh, stop with the moralistic bullshit, you want to know don’t you.”

He took a minute and looked down. “Yes.”

“Josh, the new Head of Cardio. We dated for 4 years. Once he was going to be away at a conference for a week, so I decided to send him a little something. We’d been going through a rough spell; I guess I thought it would reignite the magic. Instead, I practically signed my own porn contract.”

“I’m really sorry that happened to you,”

“Thank you.” I whispered whilst wiping away my tears.

He mumbled under his breath. “If you hadn’t sent it, he wouldn’t have had anything on you.” My movement halted.

“What?” He looked down sheepishly.

“It’s just logic. If you don’t take it, it can never be out there.”

“Fuck you.” He looked up in shock, I was a little in shock myself.

“Excuse me?”

I stood up and stalked towards him, fury in my eyes.

“You don’t get to sit there all high and mighty, Mr 2 Divorces! I was in a relationship with a man I loved who I trusted and who I thought I would marry! I trusted him with my heart so yes maybe I was stupid enough to trust him with a photo!”

“I didn’t think of it like-“

“I’ve never heard you complaining about anything I send you. Do you open it and get hard, or do you think about how I’ve basically just handed you some revenge porn.”

He was speechless.

“It’s always ‘girls don’t send pics.’ ‘Girls don’t take nudes.’ ‘girls don’t wear short skirts.’ How about ‘guys don’t rape!’ and ‘guys don’t share your girls’ pics.’”

He can’t even look at me in the eyes.

“It’s always people like you who shoot us down and then sigh and say, ‘God she looks like she’s been through it.’”

“I’m really sorry.” I could see tears welling in his eyes that matched the ones spilling out of mine.

“This isn’t even new to me. There is nothing new here, because somewhere in my childhood I went from growing up to breaking down because of men. And you can’t ever understand. Because you’ve never been catcalled on the street, groped in a club. Your mum never told you what to do if a man grabs your hair or where to kick a man if he’s trying to feel you up.”

He stands up and goes to embrace me, but I stop him. “I can’t, not yet. I just need some time.” I leave the office and leave James stuck in his melancholy state. He had just woken up to something new.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Josh smirked to himself as he picked up his patient files for the day. He turned around once he felt a distinctly wooden object tap his shoulder.

“Hi, Josh, is it? New Head of Cardio. Yeah, you’re fired.”

“What? Who are you? The only person who can fire me is Dr Cuddy.”

“You see I’m Dr Cuddy’s new pet, sexual stuff, and she gave me the honour of firing your sorry ass. You see pinning up a naked picture of someone without their permission is not only a fireable offence but also a crime. But don’t worry I came to an agreement with Cuddy, she’d fire you and not call the police if I got to do something first.”

“What do you m—”

His thought was cut off by the end of House’s cane being jammed into his special place.

“Now, I’m going to call the police.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I know it doesn't seem like a happy ending, I promise this isn't the end.

[orqheuss]

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) PART 1

(Ominis/Sebastian/GN!Reader FLUFF)

Parts: 1 2 3

Summary:

After everything the three of you have been through together, there's only one grand journey left: marriage, and the sweet hereafter that comes with it.

***

The finale of my series "Life is not a paragraph, and death, I think, is no parenthesis" Can be read as a stand alone fic! Title from the E.E. Cummings poem "i carry your heart with me (i carry it in]"

The scent of sweet maple syrup and savory bacon stirred you from your slumber, bringing a smile to your face as you greeted the new day. You could feel the soft kiss of the morning sun flutter across your closed eyelids, and you stretched your limbs upwards like a flower blooming in spring. Throwing your arms downwards, your palms landing on each side of you with a soft ‘pap,’ you slid along the silk sheets as you searched for one or both of your partners— your Slytherin boys were both absent from the bed. A small, grumpy frown began to tweak at the corners of your mouth until you heard Ominis’ angelic giggles come from downstairs, a mischievous tint to his voice, followed by a boisterous, indignant shout from Sebastian. Even with the size of the house you’d inherited, you could still pinpoint their voices in any crowded room, no matter the volume or the magnitude of the space. You smiled again, your lips turning upwards and warding away any semblance of sadness that briefly crept into your heart as you sighed contently. The band on your left ring finger dazzled in the sunrise, sending tiny rainbows along the creamy yellow walls all around.

Other than having them beside you, arms crossed over your torso and faces pressed into your skin as they groggily entered the world of consciousness, there was no other way that you would want to wake up. They were your world— your little slice of heaven, your Versailles. You would know them in any timeline— in life, in death, in sleep, at the end of the world, and even in the sweet hereafter.

Padding towards the large windowsill in your master bedroom, the glass stretching from floor to ceiling with a grand arch decorating along the top, you stop to run your hands along the fine dress robes hung on the coat rack. Three sets of wedding clothes swayed in the fresh breeze, each regal and beautiful in their own way. What could only be described as pure, childlike giddiness filled your body as you realized what day it was. In just under ten hours, you’d be married to your two loves— your soulmates.

Drawing the shimmering chiffon curtains, you gazed out at the beautiful countryside that stretched through your estate. Fresh dew coated the soft grass, wetting the hooves of the speckled deer that grazed in the field just over the hill, snacking on wild hydrangeas and buttercups, and teaching their newborn fowls how to prance. From the trees came the gentle cry of morning doves, fluffing their feathers as they wake to the sunrise and singing their sweet birdsong for their friends. The sky painted everything a fiery rose, shades of pinks and purples, blues and oranges streaking across the horizon and glowing through the bewitching sanctuary you called home. It was like something directly out of one of the fairytales you had read as a child. Just under the window, their trouser legs rolled up to keep them dry and their messy bedheads cascading over their faces, your closest friends raised the tent you would be using for the ceremony. You couldn’t help but cast your eyes over the beauty before you, both of nature and of a familiar, domestic love— your eyes softening and absolute adoration swirling in your chest.

The house, or mansion really, was left for Ominis when he was of age by his dear aunt Noctua. His wretched family had hidden the details from him for the longest time, stowing it away in their family vault at Gringotts where they thought he would never find it. You remembered the day he left for the wizard bank, keen on clearing out every last knut he was owed before he cut them off forever. You had expected to see at least a few bags of galleons weighing down his hands and pockets as he apparated into your shared living room later that day, but what you didn’t expect was that and a rolled up scroll clenched in his fist, tears streaking down his cheeks as a shaky smile stretched his lips. He took you by the shoulders and dropped the bit of parchment into your waiting hands, letting himself be enveloped by his brunette partner as you read over the words on the page before dissolving into sobs yourself. The three of you had a home, a place outside of the never ending sounds of London, and a place where you all could grow old together in the comfort of each other’s arms. Maybe a few little ones could even be in your future, their tiny legs running up and down the long halls and twirling around in the private ballroom. Dreams flashed behind your eyelids like a moving picture; little boys and girls with ashy blond hair and coffee toned eyes, their curls unruly atop their heads and birthmarks scattered along their skin like tiny constellations. Maybe they’d have your nose, or your temperament, or maybe even your magic— only time would tell. A calming warmth filled your chest, contentedness enveloping your entire body and sending a pleasant hum through your mind, stretching from your ears to the tips of your fingers and singing with magic. Your wistful sigh filled the air around you as you smiled down at your friends again.

Maybe one day— that’s what the three of you decided long ago. One day soon, you hoped, but simply one day was as good as any. You had more than enough love in your heart for a few more souls.

A knock broke you from your thoughts of the future, the smell of breakfast stronger in your nose and the sound of your darling fiance’s whispers filling your ears. You smiled as the door opened, letting your body fall gently against the glass of the bay window as you took in the sight before you. Sebastian poked his head in first, his eyes jumping over to the bed looking for you before his eyebrows tweaked briefly in confusion. He craned his neck slightly, and the most glorious smile broke across his face when he saw you standing there in the morning sun. You looked divine — the orange rays caught your hair just right and made the strands look like pure heavenly fire. A look of what could only be described as instinctual, encompassing love poured into his eyes, and yours glowed in tandem.

The brunette jostled slightly, his face turning into a slight frown of annoyance at the impatience of his second partner.

A huff came from behind him. “Honestly Sebastian, can you move, please? This tray is heavy.” Ominis shouldered his way into the room, lightly shoving his freckled love out of the way as he carried in a small feast of delicious looking food. “I’m sure they look ravishing as always, but good lord, have some decorum.”

The taller boy stumbled into the room, catching himself against the door frame and sending a scathing look at the blond as he crossed the room and placed the meal on the coffee table across from the bed where there was a little seating area. You giggled lightly at their antics, smiling behind the hand covering your mouth. Sebastian turned his gaze back to yours and leveled you with an equally tiffed look, but even still his amber eyes held a softness at the sound of your laugh. Ominis unsheathed his wand from his pocket, quickly scanning the familiar room for your aura. He could feel how happy you truly were through his wand, hear the soft thrum of your heartbeat as you took in the two loves of your life. An equally lovestruck smile graced his face as he felt you by the window, basking in the warmth of a new day and the joy of what was to come in mere hours. He quickly crossed the room, taking you into his arms and twirling you away from the perfect view. More laughter spilled from your smiling lips, filling the room with a rapturous mirth and mingling with the song of his. You briefly caught sight of Sebastian still leaning against the door jam between turns around the room, the softest look you had ever seen from him coloring his features— like you both put the stars in his sky, like you turned his world and kept his heart beating. Your whole soul leaped with happiness.

Ominis pulled you against his chest, the backs of your knees brushing against your unmade marriage bed as he rested his forehead against yours, steadying you from the blinding dizziness that turned your world.

He murmured softly to you, his breath brushing against the apples of your cheeks. “Good morning, little dove.”

You lightly kissed him in return, taking him further into your arms and letting him envelop you in his contentedness. You closed your eyes and drank him in— everything about him called to you like a lighthouse in a torrential storm. He was everything. They both were your everything— your life and your death. They were the moon that ebbed your tides, the sun that warmed your skin, the stars that caught your wishes and dreams, the earth that held you steady and safe. You wouldn’t wish for anyone else to spend your life with.

You could hear Sebastian’s soft steps as he crept closer to the both of you, a smirk dancing at his mouth. “As lovely as this is, I got up very early this morning to cook for the both of you and I would like to go back to sleep.”

He stepped into your space, wrapping his arms around your forms and pressing delicate kisses to the tops of your heads. You moved to leave the tangle of their limbs, eager to eat the hypnotizingly good smelling breakfast that called to you on a primal level, but the brunette seemed to have other plans. He tightened his hug, laughing at your noises of shock as he hoisted you both into the air and unceremoniously dropped you atop the soft bed sheets. He all but shoved his way onto the bed, wiggling around like a worm in the dirt, squeezing you in the middle of him and Ominis and wrapping his arms around your waist like they belonged there.

You giggled against the blond’s shoulder, your breath warming his skin through the fabric of his nightshirt. “Sebastian—”

A hum broke off your train of thought, the brunette hugging you tighter to his chest and shoving his face into the crook of your neck; you could feel his toothy grin against your pulse. “Nope, you both are staying right here with me— no arguing on my wedding day.”

“Our wedding day,” Ominis drawled from your other side, but relenting nonetheless, crossing his arms with Sebastian’s and threading their fingers together on your hip bone. You couldn’t hold back the giggles that spilled from you.

“You both are ridiculous.”

Ominis smiled softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Oh most definitely, but you love us.”

You sighed contently, your heart nearly bursting from your chest with how much you loved them. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

There, tucked in their arms in your king size bed, a sweet birdsong flowing through the window and a cool breeze brushing against your skin, was exactly where you wanted to be for the rest of your life.

This— This was bliss.

Of course, peace could never last long with your friends around. You and your partners were startled from the sweet call of sleep by a loud bang— your bedroom door ostentatiously swung open and smacked against the wall just beyond. Anne Sallow strutted into the room, her eyes covered and a mischievous smile stretching from ear to ear.

“Everybody put your trousers back on, I’m here for the ones that aren't my brother!”

Sebastian groaned into your neck, lamenting on the small iota of tranquility he was able to snag before the hustle and bustle of the day reached him. Ominis did the same into your hair, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulled you impossibly closer. They both spoke at the same time, an equal amount of whining lacing their tones.

“Bugger off, Anne. I just laid down—”

“I thought you considered me a brother as well? Quite offensive if you ask me—”

The brunette girl rolled her eyes, peeking out through her fingers and taking in the sight before her. Deciding it was safe and everyone was in proper levels of dress, she dropped her hand and leaned heavily against the door frame, crossing her arms across her chest and looking at the three poor souls she called her family wiggle around helplessly on their bed. You could hear the eye roll in her voice.

“Yes, Ominis, you’re my brother too. I’m here to collect those that don’t share a face with me.”

The blond sighed heavily, giving up on his comfort and rolling away from your tangled crossing of arms and legs. Sebastian bemoaned a high pitch whine into the silken sheets when you did the same, letting all of his body weight flop dramatically atop the blankets and pillows.

Ominis embraced the standing Sallow twin, rocking her gently back and forth before placing a soft kiss on her temple. “Now that’s more like it, my dear.”

You greeted Anne similarly, hugging her with all of your strength and laughing lightly as she scolded you for dragging the boys back into bed with you. You shook your head at her, gesturing towards her sulking brother who had decided to sit up finally, a pout stretching the corners of his mouth and his shoulders slumped over his lap.

“Don’t blame me, you’re demon spawn of a brother all but tackled us when he got back to the room.”

Sebastian gawked at you, looking highly offended at your verbiage before turning his face back to the bedspread and muttering to himself. You distinctly caught the tail end of what he was saying, something along the lines of “—didn’t hear you complaining.”

Anne held you at arms length, shaking her head and rolling her eyes again at her stubborn mule of a sibling. She took one of your hands into hers, grabbing Ominis’ with the other and began to pull you out of the room with her, calling over her shoulder at the still very much pouting freckled man.

“I’m taking your spouses with me, Sebastian! Garreth and Imelda will be up momentarily to help you get ready.”

You could hear your future husband's complaints from down the hallway. “Why them!? It’ll be a miracle if my dress robes aren’t covered with assorted potion ingredients or torn to shreds by that feisty devil woman and her ginger puppy.”

You snorted, letting Anne drag you the rest of the way down the grand staircase and into the foyer where the rest of your friends were waiting. The Sallow girl spun Ominis towards the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw of your group, smiling at his laugh when Poppy and Amit caught him before he could fall, before shoving you into Natty’s arms.

She stood before you all, hands on hips and a grin on her face. The girl clapped her hands together resolutely, speaking to her audience like she was delivering a grand speech to the Minister of Magic himself.

“Alright, let's get you both ready to walk down the aisle, shall we?”

And with that, you both were whisked away in different directions and towards your future.

***

like what you read? here's more!

[xsugarysweetsx]

Congrats on 2k mama sweet,,,!! :))

Since there is no sk8 requests yet how about option 2 - Kaoru x reader <3 Had this thought after reading ur arranged marriage fic... how about at the start of the marriage reader thinks that Kaoru is cheating on her when he sneaks out at night but after he tells her about S, reader feels kinda silly for thinking so.. next thing you know Kaoru is taking reader to all the beefs as his lucky charm. Reader even has a matching costume and the others start calling her "Lady Cherry" or smth,, teaches reader to skate (she's lowkey jealous of carla >.<) + some domestic fluff (what if reader finds out she's pregnant....) This doesn't have to be connected to the other fic & you can ignore the cheating part if u like... :-*

A/N: :0 Lady Cherry is a super smart name!

other fic here

Please enjoy~🍰

*******************************************************

There he went again...

The sliding door of your shared room altered you from your sleep. This was the 6th night in a row that he left without a word in the middle of the night. The first 2 nights you thought he was simply tending to business and was just busy. After the 4th day, you were suspicious and a bit hurt. He did tell you he didn’t want to hurt you and treat you right....so where was he going?

This was another night he had gotten up, so instead of staying in bed you followed him. 

“Carla, make sure to lock the doors when I leave“ he said to his AI

“Yes, master“ you scoffed. You had to admit the stupid computer got on your nerves. He practically loved talking to her and every time she answered him, he gets all giddy. You were really jealous but you wish he’d get that way with you.  

Just as he was going to leave you called for him

“Kaoru?“ he froze and turned around “It’s late...“ you said coming closer to him. That’s when you noticed what he was wearing, he was in a sleeveless yukata with a black mask over his face, and a...skateboard?

“Y/N I...um...“ being that he can’t speak about S he was contemplating whether to tell you or not. But you were his wife and he wanted to be open with you on everything. However what you said next caught him off guard

“...if there’s someone else please just tell me...“ and the way you looked when you said it just broke his heart. Did you really think he was cheating? Even though this was arranged, he couldn’t ask for someone better to be his wife. You were smart, shy but bright, not to mention beautiful.

“Y/N“ he walked to you and rests his hand on your shoulder “I would never cheat on you and I assure you there is no one else.”

“Then why do you leave at night?“ you ask

“*Sigh*....I go skating.“ he said bluntly. There was nothing to hide from you and it was all true

“...huh“ he lifted his board for you to see

“Some friends and I go skateboarding in a secret location for races and such. We only go at night so we go unnoticed.“ he held up a small pin “It’s called S..now that you know you can’t tell anyone. Now go throw something on, we’re heading out.“

Just as he said you were heading out in the dead of night. And of course you had to ride on Carla, every time he spoke to her it was like he was talking to his crush. As you approach a gate with two guards he gives you a larger sticker of the letter ‘S’. You show them to security and make it inside where people had started screaming. You knew he was popular among women but this was more than you thought

“Lord Cherry!!” one screamed 

“Kao-”

“Cherry” he interrupted 

“What?”

Getting his bike to a stop he helps you off and says “we don’t use our real names here for security reasons. Here I’m Cherry blossom.” 

So what he was telling you was true. You honestly felt a bit silly for jumping to conclusions so quickly. Before he was off to what he called a ‘beef’ he introduced you to JOE. You were surprised to see the popular chef here as well, although you knew they had been friends for years. The large screen in the area showed you just how goof he was at this. 

He was fast but graceful, sharp an precise on corners. The crowd only cheered louder than before. 

“So, you’re the one he’s been talking about huh?“ Joe asked 

“He’s been...talking about me?“ you asked

He nodded “He was gone for like 3 days in a row not to mention he was brushing off more women now. That’s when he told us there was someone he wanted to be loyal to.” okay, now you felt really silly. After the race was done and over with Cherry had made his way back to you. He comes and embarrass you and whispers in your ear

“You brought me good luck.“ you felt your heart skip a beat from the feeling of being close to him

“oooo, look at Lord Cherry with his lady~“

“Shut up you big oaf!!“

<>

During the next few months you had gone with him to almost every beef. You had even gained a name for yourself, ‘Lady Cherry’. You had become quite popular among some men there and even cherry’s female fans. He would usually bring you as his ‘lucky charm’, it was cheesy but sweet at the same time. They also had a habit of saying 

“The Cherries have arrived“ 

On his free time he would actually taught you how to skate, well he tried anyway. Balance wasn’t exactly easy and being from a traditional family, this was unusual for you. You’d be holding on to his shoulders while his hands held your waist

“Don’t let me fall“

“You’re doing just fine dear. Why don’t we try some tricks“ he offered  

“Are you sure you’re the man I married?“ you ask with a smirk

“The one and only dear“ he kissed your cheek 

It was honestly so cute to him. You’d have a scared but excited look on your face. Your cheeks would turn pink and it just made his heart fluttered. On top of all that you were willing to indulge in something he has loved from a young age. He always took you with him to each beef he attended. Both for showing you off an he is in love with the idea of winning every race for not just himself but for you as well.  

Although tonight you wouldn’t make it to the beef. He was going to race Joe but that was put on hold. You had been feeling sick all day and you just finished emptying your stomach. As much as you told him to go, he refused to leave.

“You’re my wife and you’re clearly not okay“ he said helping you up off the floor “you come before any beef or competition. Now come on, let’s get you to the hospital and get you checked out.“

A short drive to the general hospital was taken that night. No, he would not wait until tomorrow morning. He wanted to know that you were okay and didn’t have anything terminal. After speaking with the nurse and giving some blood and urine samples you both patiently waited. You leaned against him playing with the digits of his fingers. 

*Knock knock* “Ma’am we have your results” the doctor says holding up a couple of papers and even some medicine. “well, you’re clear for any terminal conditions or diseases. although you have some hormonal imbalances and some new ones kicking in.”

“Meaning?“ Kaoru urged him on

“Congratulations, you’re 4 weeks pregnant.“

“....“ you both sat in shock at the news. You were pregnant? Well, you two were active, and maybe Kaoru has his own little rituals. Either after or before a beef he’d get frisky and was set on pleasing you both. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that this would have happened, still it was shocking news

“These are some prenatal vitamins you’ll need to take for the month. Make sure to make an appointment to check on the baby alright?” giving you the vile of pills he takes his leave leaving you both in silence. What were you supposed to say? How were you going to deal with this? Were you even ready?

“-together.“ you didn’t catch his whole sentence 

“I’m sorry what was that?” you ask him

“We’ll this together alright?“ he took your hand in his “believe me I’m as shocked as you are but, we’ll figure this out together okay?“

“Alright“ you smile back 

“We should probably start with a bigger house for the three of us“

<>

“Kaoru, come on it’s just paint I can-“

“You are not moving a muscle“ he cut you off “I want you to rest all you can. You’re making a baby and that’s enough.“

To say he was strict during your pregnancy was an understatement. As soon as your belly started showing you were no longer going to beefs with him. You were currently 6 months along, and expecting a girl! Kaoru was over the moon to know it was a girl. he would have been happy with a boy too, but a little copy of you was like a dream. He couldn't wait to see the little girl that would look like you and act like him.

Today was nursery day, which meant painting, building and organizing. Kaoru had you only fold and organizing the clothes and things while he painted. Of course being your idea you had called the boys over to help. Joe was building some stuff along with Shadow. Langa and Reki were actually helping to paint the walls. 

“I appreciate you guys coming to help“ you smile 

“Hey it’s no problem, at least you told us about it“ Joe commented. Oh yeah, he also wanted to keep it a secret so that 

‘the idiot wouldn’t ruin your pregnancy‘ which made you laugh for a good 5 minutes. But they were very good help and made the process easier 

“Hey so what are you naming the baby?“ Reki asked 

“Well, Kaoru kind of wanted to associate it with his skate name so we agreed on Sakura.“

“AAWWHH“ everyone said out load slightly teasing him. Without turning from the wall he said

“....I just wanted a beautiful name for her was all.“ although he was cold at times they knew he meant well especially for his family.  A while late Joe made a small dinner for you all to enjoy. You thanked them for coming over and you were done for the night. You were putting on some lotion over your rounded middle when Kaoru came behind you. He wrapped his arms around and over your own hands and rested there for a moment

“Who would have thought we’d be here huh?” You whisper

“In all honesty I was hoping for it” he admired “before we married you were described as a caring and sweet woman. But you were so much more once we were married. You’re compassionate, intelligent, stubborn, beautiful, and absolutely perfect” he said kissing the side of your head “and now, you’ve given me the gift of being a father. Thank you”

Turning in his hold you wipe away small tears “oh Kaoru , thank you too. You’ve treated me like I’m the only person you need. On top of that you take care of me but still give me my freedom. I love you..”

“And I love you” he rests his forehead against yours as his fingers trace over your baby bump.

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay!❤️

[hxseok-honee]

atlas heart || part 37

a/n : uhm,,, so this was 20 pages long,,,, whoops -- hope you enjoy the pain!

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___________________________________

“Jimin… psst-- Jimin, wake up--”

“Wake up, motherfucker!” Jimin’s eyes fly open right before he’s shutting them again, unable to cover his face in time to block the throw pillow that’s being launched at him. It falls to his lap when he sits up, and Jungkook chuckles in the doorway.

“Y/n’s been in here for fifteen minutes, trying to be nice and soft about waking you up, but you sleep like the dead. We’re gonna miss our ride at this rate.” Jimin blinks the sleep from his eyes as he focuses in on the girl that’s kneeling next to him on the bed. She’s nodding along as Jungkook speaks, and even in his half-awake state, Jimin finds her insufferably cute. He also notices that she’s fully dressed and seemingly ready to leave, her backpack by the door.

“What time is it?” His voice is groggy, but the yell he lets out when Hoseok appears suddenly at the door, disheveled and angry, is crystal clear. It looks like the Slytherin’s also just woken up, which is bad news for someone who’s yet to see Hoseok’s infamous ‘morning temper’.

“It’s almost 4:30 in the fucking morning, that’s what time it is. Our ride gets here at 5 -- I’m leaving whether you’re ready or not.” He disappears then, dragging a fearful Jungkook with him back to their room to pack their bags. Y/n turns from the doorway, settling back on her heels as she chuckles awkwardly.

“He’s just really excited to see Yoongi…”

--

When a minivan fit for a soccer mom with 4 kids screeches to a halt in front of the house, Jimin has to rub at his eyes to make sure he’s seeing things correctly. At the wheel sits Jin, an alarming amount of excitement in his eyes as he chugs coffee from what’s less of a cup and more of a vase with a lid. In the passenger’s seat is Namjoon, clinging to his seatbelt for dear life, and behind him are Taehyung and Yoongi, the Slytherin scooting into the middle so Jungkook can pull the end seat down and squeeze into the back row.

He waves Y/n in, and she pulls a stunned Jimin into the back with them. When the end seat locks back into place, Hoseok is throwing himself into it, wrapping himself around Yoongi once the door is closed. His boyfriend smiles with contentment, and even half-asleep, Jimin can appreciate the quiet happiness they share.

Jin slams his concerningly large coffee cup, now empty, down into the middle console and lets out a roar of energy.

“Next stop, Quidditch World Cup!” Pressing down on the gas hard enough that Y/n actually feels the tires squeal against the pavement before starting to turn, Jin takes off, rounding the rest of the massive courtyard before flying back down the winding driveway. Her hand reaches for Jimin’s on instinct, and if she wasn’t squeezing so hard, he might have blushed.

“What’re the chances of us dying before we even get there?” Jimin chuckles at her question, cutting himself short when the car slides into traffic much too recklessly, so he just hums.

“Probably much higher than you want me to admit--”

“Hey, who has my road snacks? I’ve got such a hankering for one of those cinnamon roll thingies--” Jin reaches blindly back into the middle row, searching for the bag of food on Taehyung’s lap.

“Both hands on the wheel!” It seems the entire car’s in agreement, because Jin just returns to his previous position, a small whine leaving him.

“Alright, alright, you big babies. Namjoon -- feed me, buddy.” The Ravenclaw groans loudly, and for a moment Jimin can’t believe he’d missed all these idiots while he was away.

--

When Jin pulls into the campground for the World Cup, they’re all gasping as they take in the scene around them. The arena’s unbelievably massive, towering over them in the distance. The sea of people is endless, crowded beyond belief with spectators and traveling merchants preparing for tomorrow’s match. Following Yoongi’s directions until they manage to find the plot of land his parents had reserved for them, Jin pulls off into the treeline and puts the car in park.

The group stumbles from the vehicle, groaning and stretching, shaking off the anxiety of entrusting Jin with their lives for hours. It’s a little past 11am, enough time for them to set up before lunch. Y/n follows Jimin into the spacious area, admiring the excited chaos of the enormous campground around them. She can hear Jin mumbling a spell under his breath to shrink the car and put it in his pocket, followed almost immediately by Jungkook excitedly asking if he can 'do that with a house -- or Hogwarts!'

Jimin takes her hand, and for a second, she thinks that maybe he’s making a move on her, something that leaves her embarrassingly hopeful. But all he does is pull her close to him, pointing at Yoongi with his other hand. The Slytherin is pulling a tiny tent out of his own pocket and setting it on the ground in the middle of their plot of land. Y/n doesn’t even see Yoongi utter a spell before the tent is growing to full size, and she can only imagine that the inside has been bewitched to fit all 8 of them -- something else that Yoongi’s done without speaking.

“Nonverbal magic?” It slips out without her thinking, and Yoongi hears it, glancing at her and becoming visibly shy under her curious gaze. He nods, pointing back at Hoseok, whose attention is caught trying to convince Jungkook not to try shrinking himself with Jin’s spell.

“We both know it -- most Slytherins do, actually… should I call it a defense mechanism? We don’t like to let people know what we’re thinking.”

“It’s pretty fascinating, if you think about it.” It comes from Namjoon, where he and Tae are unpacking not too far away. “Even in class, Yoongi would always practice nonverbally -- he’d get in trouble for it, too.” The Slytherin shrugs as if performing nonverbal magic isn’t difficult for most people unless the caster is under incredible distress.

“What can I say? A habit’s a habit. I haven’t used verbal magic in years -- it’s just more comfortable this way.” He ducks into the tent then, poking his head out and waving them in once he’s checked the quality of his adjustments to their living space for the next couple days.

They all head inside, Y/n looking around in awe when she sees just how big it is. There’s a section of bunk beds on the far side of the room, and the rest is filled with endlessly cozy spaces -- couches and cushions, corners piled high with blankets and pillows. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner, which Jin makes a beeline for in order to 'preserve his perishables'. Jimin shakes his head at the scene, always amused by the depth of the Hufflepuff’s stomach.

Jungkook pulls Y/n to one of the couches, where they collapse on it in a sibling pile that Jimin’s gotten used to seeing over the last 24 hours. It doesn’t stop the rest of the group (sans Hoseok, of course) from gawking at the pair, everyone unused to seeing the dynamic that’s been essentially nonexistent at Hogwarts. They don’t even notice, Y/n looking up at Jungkook with emotional eyes.

“I can’t believe I have friends to share this with.” She doesn’t realize the group is listening, and they all feel simultaneously touched and saddened by her words. Jungkook only ruffles her hair fondly.

“Get used to it, kid -- things are looking up for us.” It’s then that Jungkook happens to glance up, catching Taehyung’s gaze and seeing glossy tears in the boy’s eyes. Looking around, he notes that everyone’s got a similar expression, and he wonders what they must think of Y/n -- of the girl they don’t know enough about to understand her sentiments. He also wonders why they seem so moved by her words.

The awkward moment’s cut short by Namjoon clearing his throat. He points toward Jin, who’s standing by the fridge.

“We have enough food in there to feed us for a week, but Jin said it’s all ‘snacks’, so it looks like we have to go buy lunch.” Everyone nods, accepting that Jin would probably bite them before letting them into the kitchenette, and they start heading back out into the campground.

--

By the time night’s fallen, they’re all exhausted and a bit giddy. It’s almost 10, the effects of waking up at 4am weighing down on the group as they sit together in front of their tent. Hoseok and Yoongi had set up a small fire for them to gather around, Jimin playing music quietly from the small speaker Tae had packed as they talk amongst themselves.

Namjoon leans against a decently sized pile of rocks, reading quietly with the light from the fire. Y/n suspects he’s not actually reading, having caught his smile every time someone had cracked a lame joke, but she doesn’t call him on it. He looks peaceful there, in his quiet corner. Yoongi and Hoseok sit together on one side of the fire, whispering to each other and smiling about things only they know. Jungkook, Tae, and Jin are huddled, having a small argument about some of the merchandise being sold by the traveling shops that are set up around the campground.

Y/n sits with Jimin, watching the group and jokingly judging Jimin’s music taste as he scrolls through his phone. They’re sitting awfully close together, and Jimin thinks in the back of his mind that they must look about as cozy as Yoongi and Hoseok do -- that thought brings him much more joy than it should.

Despite the endless chatter and liveliness of the campground, the night starts to wind down, the sky clouding over in a way that makes it seem darker than it already is. It’s a perfectly good time for everyone to head to bed, but the chaotic trio has apparently decided to escalate their quarrel, the three of them jumping up at the same time.

“We’re going to check out some stuff -- it’s important!” Jungkook calls out to the rest of the group right before disappearing into the crowd with Jin and Tae. Namjoon promptly shuts his book, standing with a groan and heading in the direction they’d just gone. He offers them a shrug as an explanation.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on them.” He’s gone soon, leaving Jimin and Y/n to make awkward eye contact with Hoseok and Yoongi. Y/n locks eyes with Hoseok, and Jimin gets the strange feeling, from the way Hoseok’s eyes widen and then narrow suspiciously, that they’re communicating telepathically. The Slytherin shakes his head subtly, and then again a little more forcefully, before sighing heavily and rising to his feet. Holding his hand out, he helps Yoongi -- who looks as confused as Jimin feels -- to his feet before pointing noncommittally in the same direction their friends had gone.

“Apparently, I’m hungry enough to go searching for a snack, even though we have snacks in the tent.” Yoongi smirks at the clear annoyance in Hoseok’s voice, tugging him toward the crowd.

“Come on -- let’s go find a tree to make out under.” Immediately, Hoseok’s gaze becomes one of mischievous excitement, and he practically skips after the shorter boy into the distance. Jimin makes a noise of disgust, mirrored by Y/n’s expression.

Jimin only properly registers that they’re alone when his phone automatically starts playing a slower song -- rather, he properly registers that Y/n had asked Hoseok to leave them alone. Turning to her suddenly as if for an explanation, he finds that she’s staring into the fire with the intensity of someone who’s very socially awkward. He can’t help the breath of laughter that leaves him, one that becomes real laughter when she glares at him.

“You look like you just realized the consequences of your actions.” Her jaw drops, and she pushes at his shoulder, affronted.

“Sue me for wanting to spend time alone with you!” Immediately, she’s hiding her face in her hands, groaning. She wonders if maybe -- if she wishes for it enough -- the ground will just open up around her and swallow her whole. Her ears feel like they’re being set on fire when she hears Jimin’s laughter ringing through the air, and she hates that she loves the sound anyway.

“When are you just going to admit that you’re in love with me, Y/n? I promise I won’t laugh.” She mumbles something into her hands, and it sounds suspiciously like ‘you’re already laughing’. Jimin tugs at her wrist, dragging her out from her hiding spot and forcing her to look at him.

“How about we make a deal?” Y/n sends him another glare, but it’s her pout that catches his attention and drives him to the brink of insanity. “We can say it together -- count to three and admit how crazy we are about each other at the same time.” Y/n rolls her eyes and snatches her wrist from his hold, turning back to the fire, which has basically died down completely by now.

“Stop messing around, you big dork.” Jimin holds his hand to his chest and gasps.

“I have never been so serious about something in my life as I am about this.” He keeps talking, a dramatic monologue about his integrity, but something triggers the alarm bells in the back of her head -- the same alarm bells that have kept her alive up to this point -- and she’s immediately distracted.

Glancing around, she finds that nothing’s changed in their surroundings -- families and groups of friends still celebrate the start of the World Cup, the chaos of thousands of people in one place never-ending. But there’s something in the air, something that sets her nerves on edge. Looking up, she realizes that it’s gotten exceptionally dark, the clouds concentrating into one dense curtain in the sky, removing any sign that the stars had been there in the first place.

“Jimin, wait… this doesn’t feel right.” Realizing, based on the pained expression that fills Jimin’s face when she interrupts his secretly heartfelt rant, that she’s said the wrong thing at the wrong time, Y/n shakes her head quickly, motioning out into the distance. “I’m talking about this -- something’s off.” She ignores Jimin’s lingering eyes on her when she stands from her spot on the ground, looking to the treeline and taking in their surroundings. He joins her when he gets a clear look at her face and sees how urgent her gaze is.

The breeze is gone, leaving her with the taste of stale smoke in her lungs, the air still foggy from the bonfire. It seems the sense of freedom had left with the boys, since all she can feel is an invisible weight coming down on her chest -- something coming for her.

And come it does, in Jimin’s frozen form and horrified gaze, staring straight over Y/n’s shoulder into the sky behind her. Whipping around, terrified about what she might find, she’s stepping backwards and colliding with Jimin’s chest before she can even register what she’s seeing. The clouds have darkened considerably and are moving of their own accord, twisting and turning as they take shape in the sky. Jimin begins to shake uncontrollably as the storm clouds become one, revealing the skull with the open jaw, a massive snake emerging from within and wrapping itself cleanly around the top.

“That’s-”

“Guys!”

“Jimin, Y/n-”

“We’re so fucked!” The rest of the group comes crashing into the space in panicked chaos, tearing through their campsite with thinly veiled terror. Taehyung and Namjoon make a beeline for their tent as the sounds of pained screams start to filter in, replacing the comfortable memories of the bonfire with something much darker. Yoongi stands near the fire pit, turning in circles and pulling at his hair desperately as he realizes where they are.

“This isn’t -- this tent, it’s in the middle of --” He stops, breathing hard, hands still buried in his hair as the thought finally hits. “My parents put us in the middle of Slytherin territory.”

Jin comes in behind everyone else, firing curses over his shoulder as he calls out to the group, scanning their faces and doing a mental headcount.

“We need to get out of here -- the muggleborns should go first.” He locks eyes with Namjoon as the older Ravenclaw exits the tent carrying a bag. Namjoon nods, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist and moving toward Y/n, who hasn’t left Jimin’s side.

“I grabbed everything important, so let’s just go.” He reaches for Y/n’s arm, triggering Jimin’s protectiveness. Jimin pulls her closer on instinct, and Namjoon sighs as he releases Taehyung in order to grab both of them. “We need to go.” He addresses Y/n under his breath. “You’re not safe here, either.” They keep eye contact for just a moment, but it’s enough that Y/n is left with the feeling of ice in her blood even after Namjoon’s turned back to the group.

How much… does he know?

Before she can question Jimin about Namjoon’s suspicious behavior, Jimin’s tugging her toward his friends as they move toward the edge of the forest. Pulling back and forcing Jimin to a stop, Y/n points at Jungkook, who has now flanked Jin and is defending one part of their campsite from the oncoming hoard of Slytherins.

“I’m not leaving without him.” The conflicted look that crosses Jimin’s face tears at Y/n’s heart, but she stands her ground, motioning back toward Jungkook. “I have to stay-”

“What? No, you have to go!” The call comes from behind her, and it’s only a matter of moments before Jungkook is by her side, shoving her into Jimin’s arms. “Take her with you! Don’t you ever let her out of your sight-”

“Jungkook, watch out-”

Taehyung yells out to him, just a moment too late. Y/n watches in horror as a red light appears just over Jungkook’s shoulder. It grows bigger and bigger as it flies toward them, accompanied by the disgusted shriek of “Blood Traitor!”, and all she can do is hug Jungkook to her as she waits for the curse to strike him in between his shoulder blades.

Pulling him close, she barely manages to catch the flash of silver that appears, encompassing them as another body slides into view and blocks out everything else. The shield charm is cast wordlessly and so powerfully that it knocks the Slytherin who’d attacked them clean off his feet. Thrown back at least ten feet, he’s left bewildered and sore.

Hoseok stands between Jungkook and the army of Slytherins, breathing heavily as the shield dissipates around them. He holds his head high as he stares down the group, resigning himself to the fact that, after years of hiding his true self from his housemates, his loyalties have been clearly defined in that moment.

The silence that follows is only broken by the soft fwip of a wand being slipped out of a pocket, and it’s as Hoseok is whipping his head around that another red light appears, its caster completely silent. The curse burns through the air, almost as if in slow motion, cutting through the space right under Hoseok’s ear with the sharp precision of a skilled marksman and meeting its target on the other side, searing the ends of Hoseok’s hair as it goes. The Slytherin who’d been poised to attack from the treeline is hurled backwards, disappearing into the forest as everyone watches him go, Yoongi’s wand still trained on the spot where he’d stood.

The cold fury that fills Yoongi’s eyes is replaced with concern as he lowers his wand and rushes to Hoseok’s side, giving him a once over before turning to face the growing crowd of Death Eaters in-training, aligning his loyalties just the same as Hoseok had. Y/n allows herself the small smile that arises when she sees the gaze that Hoseok casts upon Yoongi, filled with the kind of love she could only hope to have in her own life. The moment doesn’t last long.

The group of friends, realizing almost simultaneously that they’re being surrounded, forms a huddle facing outward, wands steady as they prepare for the attack.

“If we make it out of this shit alive, I’m going to throw the biggest fit of my life when I get home.” The mention of the Dark Lord’s most loyal Min family sets off the first wave of curses, their traitorous son the target.

One by one, the group takes down their attackers, tiring out but never giving up. Minimal injuries are sustained on their end, their will to survive too strong to forgive even the slightest mistake. Jimin keeps one hand on Y/n at all times, unwilling to lose track of her for even a moment, as if she’s not been stuck to his side all night.

Curses rain down on them from all sides, the Dark Mark in the sky peeking through the shower of red lights as they fight for their lives. Jimin feels Y/n stagger beside him, but she seems to be unharmed when he looks her over. Glancing in alarm at the moon, barely visible amongst all the smoke and mayhem, Jimin curses under his breath as he remembers the date -- and more importantly, that she hadn’t yet taken her dose for the night. He pours all his energy into his attacks from that moment on, everything suddenly becoming much more urgent.

Time passes so slowly that none of them are quite sure how long they’ve been there, fighting in a war they’d never asked for. Just when Y/n thinks they might be losing -- that they might be forced to pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord, or even killed where they stand -- there’s a loud pop and a gush of wind passes over all of them.

From within their circle comes the angered cry of Sirius Black, who manages to deflect a rather mean curse headed straight for Jin’s chest. He’s followed by James and Remus, the three of them throwing themselves into the mix so carelessly that it catches the Slytherins by surprise. James takes advantage of the delay, surging out of the circle toward the largest density of Slytherins and pointing his wand at the ground closest to them.

“Confringo!” The earth beneath their feet shudders under James’ command, collapsing in on itself before exploding outward, sending no less than 10 people flying through the air and creating a chaos too intense for the rest to handle. The world around them becomes fuzzy and confusing, and Y/n feels nothing except the hands that pull at her and urge her forward into the forest.

They all manage to stumble far enough away from the mess to gather their bearings, but the shouts of their enemies are not far off. As soon as they confirm that they’re all alive and relatively unscathed, Remus takes Y/n by the elbow and pulls her gently to him. Jimin is reluctant to let her go.

“I need to talk to you -- we have to go somewhere safe.” Sirius is collecting the rest of the group and giving them the location of a safe place to meet, a small cottage in the countryside where he and Remus had been living.

“You guys head there first, we’ll meet you.” He hands the keys to Jungkook, who nods in understanding as he sees that Remus has no intention to rejoin the group. Jimin starts to reach for Y/n, unhappy with their separation, but Hoseok speaks up from the back. He’s being half-carried by Yoongi, his leg having suffered a bit of damage from James’ blasting curse, but not so much that he couldn’t walk. Y/n bites back a smirk, suspecting that Hoseok had just been looking for an excuse to need Yoongi, who is absolute garbage at hiding how pleased he is.

“Make sure you come back soon. I trust you guys, and I know you need to talk in private, but I don’t like not having Y/n close in times like this.” Remus nods, acknowledging Jungkook as well, before leading Y/n away. The boys start to apparate away, James helping Hoseok and Yoongi get to the house safely before returning to join his friends. Remus has led Y/n a safe enough distance away that the Slytherins would have a hard time finding them and is explaining the gravity of the situation to her.

“-- to infiltrate a pack of werewolves living in the mountains. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, Y/n.” Y/n examines Remus’ face, noting the new scars and the exhaustion that lies heavy in his eyes. He looks nothing like the bright school boy from just a few months ago, and she knows he’s seen unimaginable things in the short time that he’s been working under Dumbledore. They all look drained and, frankly, terrified. The lives they’d been promised from a young age were fading away into this dreary nothingness, this thankless job where nothing is more uncertain than the future.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you? Just tell me you’ll be careful -- all of you.” Remus looks taken aback by her words, and Sirius can’t suppress the soft chuckle that escapes him, amazed at this girl standing before him, not nearly as reserved as they’d all thought her to be.

“Of course we’ll be careful, love. Don’t you trust us?” Y/n shakes her head, smiling despite her scoff.

“Trust you guys? I didn’t realize you were an aspiring comedian, Sirius.” They laugh openly now, thankful for even just this moment of reprieve from the hell they live in. Remus leans over, patting her adoringly on her head, as if they weren’t damn near the same age.

“Good, that’s good. Don’t trust anyone, Y/n, you hear me? Don’t trust anyone you wouldn’t die for. Can you do that for me?” Y/n nods, the picture of those boys in that cottage in the countryside coming to mind so easily.

“I know who my people are. There’s no one else besides them -- and you guys. So try your best not to get yourselves killed?” James salutes her once as Sirius nods. Remus moves to agree, but the sound of leaves crunching not too far away triggers an immediate response in him. Lunging forward and taking her into his arms, he throws Y/n over his shoulder and takes off running, knowing better than anyone else what it would mean if she were caught. Y/n watches with horror as two Death Eaters appear out of what looks like thin air, sending James and Sirius into action. She can do nothing but watch as they deflect curses while maintaining their ground.

Remus sets her down a long distance away, trying to warn her again, but her attention is on the action they’d just managed to escape. She tries to push past him to go help James and Sirius, but he grabs her by the shoulders quickly and forces her to look at him, shaking her roughly in the process.

“Listen to me, Y/n- listen to me!” She meets his eyes, alarmed by the frustration in his voice. “The public knows. They know now just to what extent the werewolf population is siding with Voldemort. Everything before this summer was just speculation -- of course the evil magical beasts should side with the Dark Lord, right? Well, the Minister of Magic just released a statement this morning. Everyone knows now. And it won’t matter how much we cry and beg and plead for our lives -- if they catch us, we’re dead. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Y/n can do no more than stare into Remus’ eyes, wishing this all away -- wishing that they could just be back in school, a bunch of kids with no worries about the war. But the longer she stares into his eyes, the longer she realizes that they don’t just have to worry about the war now. They’re part of it. Two werewolves with way too many people keeping their secret. James, Sirius, Peter, Jungkook, Hoseok, and now Jimin? And --

Does Namjoon know, too? Just who the hell else has to be put into danger because of what I am?

--

Y/n steps through the front gate of the cottage, having been dropped off by Remus -- she’s not of age yet to apparate alone -- before he disappeared again, presumably to help his friends escape. She’s barely within ten feet of the front door when it’s flying open, Jimin appearing before her with wild eyes. He rushes at her, taking her into his arms with a desperation he didn’t even know he felt. She pats at his back, unsure of what to say, still dazed from everything Remus had told her.

“I was only gone a few minutes…” Jimin pulls back, looking at her as if she’s insane.

“I don’t care. Those were the worst few minutes of my life. I hated not knowing if you were okay.” He looks her over, patting at her arms gently. “You are okay, right?” When she nods he sighs before glancing around them urgently as if realizing they’re out in the open. He tugs her inside, shutting the door tightly behind them. He’s about to motion her down the hallway into the living room, where the rest of their friends are regrouping, but she stops him. The look she gives him is suspicious, and he’s unsure why.

“Jimin, you told me you would never breathe a word of what I am to anyone…” He looks at her with alarm, shaking his head.

“I didn’t tell anyone anything -- why? What happened?” She examines him for a moment, seeing that Jimin’s as confused as she is. She proceeds with caution, realizing that if Jimin really hadn’t said anything, then this conversation is about to be very uncomfortable.

“I think… Namjoon might know something…” Jimin feels like he can’t breathe then, the air stopping short in his chest as his heart drops out from under him. He swears without thinking, the word slipping out as he processes what she’s saying.

“Fuck… shit… fuck…” Y/n squints at him, unsure of where his mind’s just gone. Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, another swear falling from his lips as guilt overcomes him. He opens his mouth to explain, but he can’t bring himself to look her in the eyes.

“Before I figured out… everything, I would talk to Joon about things that confused me… about you.” He opens his eyes just enough to glance at her before looking away, but he’s surprised that she isn’t fuming with anger. She’s only thinking carefully about his words.

“So, he probably put it together on his own.” She comes to the conclusion as she ponders, offering the reason for Namjoon’s comment to her earlier. Jimin lurches forward, taking her hand in both of his, eyes pleading.

“I swear to you, Y/n, I didn’t say a word of this to him after I figured it out. I completely dropped it, and when he asked me why, I just told him I was respecting your privacy by minding my own business -- I promise, I never said anything--”

“Jimin!” His name cuts through the air, and his mouth snaps shut immediately to give her room to talk. “I’m not mad at you. I’m more worried than anything… I wonder who else knows…”

“Uhm, actually--” The new voice has them both turning to look to the end of the hallway, where Tae’s standing awkwardly in the doorway to the living room. He’s flanked by Jin and Yoongi, Namjoon standing with Jungkook and Hoseok just inside the room.

“--I think we all know…” The blood drains from both Y/n and Jimin’s faces as Jungkook and Hoseok look to each other in alarm. Jin nods, Yoongi smiling awkwardly to confirm what Tae’s saying. The air in the house is cold, no one willing to break the tense silence while Y/n processes what she’s just heard. She meets Jungkook’s eyes then, his gaze betraying the immense fear that he’s feeling, much like the ice running through her veins.

None of them even notice the front door opening behind Jimin, the three Marauders stumbling into the house, disheveled but generally unscathed. They stop short at the scene before them, glancing amongst themselves before James is breaking the silence himself.

“Are we… interrupting something…?”

--

“Okay, someone start talking before I go insane.” They’re all crowded into the living room meant only for a few people, Y/n and Remus sitting together on a couch in the middle of the room, everyone else taking up the extra seats and floor space. It looks like a club meeting gone horribly wrong, if the discomfort in everyone’s eyes is anything to go by. Y/n looks around after demanding an explanation, finally looking to Namjoon, as he’s the only one she’d been aware of until a few minutes ago. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“After Jimin suddenly stopped all the obsessive theorizing and curiosities, I got suspicious… I had a feeling he’d put everything together, and I was worried that he was getting himself into some kind of trouble because that’s just the kind of nosy Ravenclaw he is. I just put it together myself so I could help him if I needed to…” Jimin grimaces at Namjoon’s words, knowing them to be true but disliking the description all the same.

The glare of irritation Jungkook’s been shooting him doesn’t help, but Hoseok pulls the Gryffindor’s attention away with a bump of his knee against Jungkook’s thigh. When Jungkook drags his burning gaze away from Jimin to look at Hoseok, Jimin’s shocked to see that Hoseok’s simply shaking his head at the Jeon heir, silently telling him to back off. Jimin’s eyes widen then, never having experienced such a sense of stunned relief as he feels in this moment with Hoseok’s quiet support.

Jungkook turns his annoyed gaze over to the spot where Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi sit. He locks eyes with his roommate of six years.

“Tae?” The boy in question looks down at his hands sheepishly, glancing at Y/n in a way that seems almost apologetic. When he lifts his head, he speaks directly to her, feeling that his explanation should be for her and her alone.

“Jimin’s my best friend… it would be weird if I wasn’t worried about him with him acting so strange. I didn’t really figure it out until the beginning of the summer, when I started spending more time with you -- I noticed how sick you’d get around the same time each month, and you’d always look so tired afterwards. I know we don’t know each other as well as Jimin knows you, but I was worried about you, so I… did my own digging and put the pieces together. It also explained a lot about all the times Jungkook would run out of our room in a panic in the middle of the night. There were just… a lot of things that made sense once I’d started to think about it.” Y/n keeps her eyes on him, trying to process the guilt in his eyes and wondering why he sounds so upset. “I know that you’re probably terrified of us knowing, but I promise I was just worried about you. I’m sorry I was snooping in your life…”

Y/n sees then that Taehyung feels the same kind of responsibility that Jimin had always carried in his eyes -- one of fear that his actions would bring her harm. He’d been sitting with that for the whole summer, quietly trying his best to keep her safe by pretending he knew nothing at all. She opens her mouth to tell him that he has nothing to feel bad about, but Jin’s clearing his throat.

“I, uh-- we--” He gestures to the space between himself and Yoongi, whose gaze is one of cautious observation as the conversation goes on around him. “We… were on our way back to Yoongi’s room and overheard you and Hoseok talking -- something about Jimin finding out… Hoseok was really upset, and he was kind of yelling. We didn’t mean to eavesdrop -- it’s just that we were right outside, and you were trying to calm him down, and he was just saying a lot of stuff that was confusing and weird, but it was obvious what was going on.” Jin glances over at Yoongi as if to confirm his story, and the Slytherin only nods. He turns back to Y/n, finishing his explanation. “We found out together--”

“Actually--” Everyone’s attention turns to Yoongi, who shifts uncomfortably under the weight of their gazes. He clears his throat, scratching at his neck while he finds his words. “Actually… I already knew by then. I think, based on what everyone’s been saying, that I probably knew before any of them…” He trails off, leaving the group to devolve into strained chaos.

“Wait, you knew?”

“How long have you known?!”

“When did you find out?” Ignoring the barrage of questions, Yoongi only looks to Hoseok, whose eyes tell how shocked he is. Flicking his gaze to Y/n, Yoongi continues.

“Do you remember when we first met? That night in the Hospital Wing -- it was before winter break.” Y/n’s jaw drops as her memories fly all the way back to December -- almost a year prior. “I went to visit you, originally because Hobi had mentioned something about going to visit a friend and I was looking for an excuse to see him.” Hoseok laughs under his breath, still stunned into disbelief about the situation, but Yoongi hasn’t stopped talking, almost rambling now.

“I had just found out that you guys were even friends -- it was really weird for me to think about, you know? Until then, he’d only ever been friends with Slytherins, and even then he seemed hesitant about getting close to them. I mean, I get it, that’s how I was, too. But to find out that my roommate since first year had a secret friend group with people that made no sense for him to know -- I was curious about you. I wanted to see what you were like. Especially because Jimin was, like, obsessed with you -- sorry, Jimin.” The Ravenclaw grimaces again, hating that he’s been described only as obsessive but knowing that that’s exactly what he’d been like.

“So… what does that have to do with finding out about me? How did you know?” Y/n leans forward, elbows on her knees as she looks intently at Yoongi. He sighs in response.

“Look. My entire life, I’ve been trying to separate myself from my name. My parents are objectively fucking insane, and I want nothing to do with them, especially now that they pulled that bullshit with the World Cup reservation. I can’t be like them, okay? I would rather die fighting on the right side of this war than ever pledge my allegiance to that nose-less freak. But that doesn’t change the fact that I still live at the Min Estate. And the Min Estate -- it’s like a beacon for the wicked and evil. I’ve seen every kind of creature walk through the doors of my house whenever my parents hold their Death Eater meetings. It’s like a monthly book club, but for murder. So I know what werewolves are like. I know the signs and the symptoms, and I know how cruel and vicious they can be.”

Y/n breaks her gaze then, staring down at her feet as he confirms every fear that she’s ever felt -- that she would be seen as a monster, an evil beast with only the instinct to kill. All the same, it hurts to hear him say it out loud.

“And that’s why I knew you were nothing like them.” Y/n’s head whips up, and she sees that Yoongi’s focused on conveying to her with his eyes that he means what he’s said. He doesn’t see the affection that fills Hoseok’s gaze, replacing the icy fear he’d been feeling the entire time Yoongi’s been talking.

“You’re nothing like them, Y/n. You’re kind and considerate, and you’re so shy around new people that even I’m in pain just watching you struggle to talk. You’re really fucking weird, and your sense of humor has been shaped by growing up with a crazy ass Gryffindor brother and this sarcastic asshole--” He points then to his boyfriend, finally feeling confident enough to look Hoseok in the eye as he cracks the joke before returning his attention to Y/n.

“So, yes, you’re a werewolf. But you’ve got nothing to worry about with me. Or any of us, to be honest.” The rest of the group nods then, and Y/n feels the air returning to her lungs after so long of holding her breath. It’s only when she looks to Remus, who still seems unsure, that she remembers how complicated their situation is.

“I appreciate that, I really do. You guys have no idea how scared I was that you’d find out… but it’s not as simple as you think -- not that any of this has been simple to begin with. It’s just… more complicated--”

“So, are we talking about Remus, or something else?” Taehyung speaks up, looking genuinely confused about what she’s alluding to. James and Sirius tense where they sit on either side of Remus, whose gaze has just become very guarded.

“I’m not sure what you mean--”

“The ‘you being a werewolf’ thing? Yeah, that wasn’t hard to figure out once I knew what to look for in Y/n.” It’s Jin who cuts him off, Yoongi and Namjoon nodding along. Jungkook throws his hands in the air, flopping back against the couch with an exasperated sigh.

“Just how bad are we at keeping things a secret around here?!” Remus groans in response, but James and Sirius seem to be taking the news in stride.

“Look on the bright side, Moony -- now we have an army of hooligans to keep you guys safe!” Remus rolls his eyes in irritation before looking to Y/n for help. She stares down at her hands, feeling more exhausted than she’s ever felt in her life -- and she experiences monthly painful transformations that leave her bedridden for days after.

“This isn’t a joke, James.” The Potter boy snaps his mouth shut when, for the first time since meeting her, Y/n’s voice carries an edge when she addresses him. “The number of people that are in danger now because of what we are has just doubled. And now there are muggleborns involved -- what’s going to happen if anyone gets wind that they know something about us? With what the Ministry’s just released… it’s too much. This is all too much.” Namjoon hums then, pulling Y/n out of the dangerously dark mental dive she was just about to take.

“I mean, we’re involved in this war whether we know about you guys or not. We’re already fighting for our lives -- what difference does it make if we know what you are? If anything, it gives us a reason to fight harder.” He gestures among all of them, all eleven of them in that room.

“We’re all we have left in this war -- why wouldn’t we do everything it takes to keep each other safe?”

[maximumjinx]

Ladybug’s Finale Chapter 8

1, 2 3 4 5 6 7

Absolute chaos ensued. 

Adrien put on a smile, easy and giddy, but turned to Ladybug with eyes that said What the fuck?. 

She could tell she had made a mistake. 

One loud mouthed blonde managed to push her way through the crowd and wrap  an arm around Adrien. 

“If this crowd doesn't clear out in two minutes I’m calling city police.” Chloe seethed, her blonde hair up in signature ponytail and wearing a loose sundress. She turned to Ladybug, hard eyes set on the heroine. 

“I’ve got him from here, you can go.” Adrien felt like a baton had been passed, and while Ladybug looked as if she wanted to say more, she nodded and swung away.

“Chloe-” he tried, but was cut off by the honk of a loud horn. Chloe’s car had pulled up beside them, blocked by reporters.

“50 seconds.” She yelled again, phone high in the air like a weapon. It was probably the scariest weapon she had. 

The mob grumbled and began to disperse. 

“You’re just causing all sorts of trouble these days, aren't you Adrikins?” Chloe sighed, and quickly ushered him into the car. Well, it was a shove really. Chloe has never been gentle, even as kids. 

“Where are we-”

“I have to say, I’m just glad it’s not Dupain-Cheng.” She interrupted loudly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as the car began to move. “Don’t lead that pitiful girl on though, it’s uncouth.”

Adrien blinked. Lead Marinette on?

“I- I wouldn’t. She doesn’t like me like that!” He coughed, feeling like he had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. 

Chloe turned to her childhood friend and stared.

“We’re just friends.” Adrien finished lamely. She snorted and shook her head.

“Thank you for the help back there. We were really caught off guard.” He added, after a moment of silence. Chloe picked at her nail polish. 

Adrien remembered Chloe used to do it more as a kid, picking off the color of her nails and being chastised for it by Audrey. Even now she never seemed to kick the habit. Freshly painted nails every morning, and clean ones by bed. It was the reason Adrien himself was a skilled manicurist. 

“You can drop me off at home.” 

“Hah.” Chloe said flatly, “What, so Natalie or your dad could interrogate you? You and Ladybug have been headline news since this morning. Thanks for leaving me alone in class by the way.”

Adrien felt his heart rate quicken. So much for stealth, he doubt he could sneak around the house looking for miraculous when he had just been seen with the person trying to take his father down. 

“I have no idea why she would say we were dating.” Adrien groaned, head in his hands. Was it his ultimate dream? Obviously. Was it the worst timing and pretext? Yes.

“Arent you? You’ve been in love with her for like- a year.”

“What!?” Adrien blubbered, turning to Chloe with ears and cheeks red.

“You forget I’m one of the few people that has been on your computer hon.” She rolled her eyes, taking out her phone.

“You told me you were googling stuff for homework!”

“Normal teenage boys hide much worse than 389 photos of Ladybug in an unmarked folder.”

Adrien blew a breath. He couldn’t bring up the extensive back up drive with more content and fanfiction.

“Daddy?” Chloe brought up her pitch to a dull whine, phone tucked between shoulder and ear as she continued to pick at her nails. “Adrien is staying over tonight. No daddy, he’s not sleeping in my room. Just go to your meeting.”

“Well we aren’t dating.” Adrien huffed as she hung up.

Chloe shot him a look. The way that Ladybug looked at Adrien...

Well, she supposed she could hold onto one more secret.

“Whatever you say.”

—

“I’m an idiot, I am so stupid, why did I say that?!” Marinette paced around her balcony while Tikki watched, comically large cookie in tiny all powerful paw.

“I’m sure you can fix it Marinette.”

“I can’t! The press are vicious they’ll think we’re secretly dating if I deny it now!”

"Then why say it?"

"Freudian slip of the tongue?! I don't KNOW!" Marinette fell to her knees with her head in her hands.

"I never much liked Freud... he had a weird fixation on his mom." Tikki pondered while munching.

Marinette felt her phone blow up with alerts from the ladyblog. She still followed it to keep track of akuma attacks, but she knew that this couldn't be an akuma now.

It was the mountain of gossip she had placed herself under.

This wasn't like the negative emotions she was used to blocking. The emotion that was building in her chest was anxiety, panic and a smidge of embarrassment. The tips of her ears burned.

"Adrien is going to kill me. And then his father is going to lock him up forever."

"Hawkmoth wouldn't touch Adrien, not when he thinks it will lead to Ladybug's miraculous." Tikki assured. She floated in front of her holder, carefully prying Marinette's hands from her face. "You can use this to your advantage."

Marinette looked at her tiny friend helplessly.

"How? Adrien is going to be watched like a hawk now. He probably won't be able to train or transform."

"Maybe, but he's been defiant of his dad for a while now. He was probably close to being sent to boarding school. Now Hawkmoth is forced to keep him in school and close by, where he can watch." Tikki gave a hardened glare to her chosen. "Think it through Marinette, what are your options?"

It wasn't like she could suddenly see the objects around her light up to make this situation better. Marinette screwed her eyes shut and forced herself to think.

Okay, so Hawkmoth thinks Ladybug and Adrien are dating. Ladybug was now the distraction, the illusion that will keep Hawkmoth's attention away from their plan. He may think they've slipped up, but it will make it so that he's not paying attention to her biggest asset.

She could make this work, but she needs to be able to talk to Adrien without the mask and the attention.

"I have to tell Adrien my identity Tikki, we're going to need "nobody" Marinette to start pulling some weight." She gave an uneasy smile. "Spots on!"

__

Chloe was almost done with Adrien's hair. Her favorite past time, what better way to use a model than like a giant Ken Doll? She smiled giddly as her hands slicked his blonde locks on the side of his head back, leaving the top of his head lightly curled at the edge of his brows.

"I wish you would let me cut your hair like you used to." She purred, absolutely delighted with the casual greaser look she has managed to perfect.

"My father banned you for a year last time you did that."

"Yeah," Chloe shrugged, "but it was worth it. Did you know Sabrina used to have hair down to her back? I thought she would look better with a bob."

"God, Chlo."

"What?" She huffed, "Sometimes I'm wrong. Very rarely. I'll admit it."

Adrien shook his head. He was trying to calm down and Chloe was doing a great job distracting him, but he wished he could talk to Ladybug and figure out what the game plan was.

Almost like magic (kwami magic specifically), a knock was heard outside the door.

"Jean-Pierre, that better be the blue crop top for Adrien or you're fired!" Chloe hollered, running to her bedroom door with excitement. The door swung open to show Ladybug, sheepishly (and terribly) disguised in a cape and motor cycle helmet.

"You were able to get in unnoticed like that?" Adrien gaped as she pulled the helmet off, the door shutting behind her.

"Not quite unnoticed, but no one recognized me!" She huffed, clearly just having used to the stairs to come up.

"I find that hard to believe." Chloe scoffed, pinching the cape in her fingers.

Ladybug shooed her hand away, pulling off the last of her disguise. She turned back to Adrien, a small blush on her cheeks.

"Your hair looks nice."

Adrien beamed, "Tha-"

"Thank you! Finally some taste around here." Chloe smirked.

"Chlo, would you give us a minute?"

She wrinkled her nose, "Just don't do anything gross. This is still my room and the maids just washed the sheets."

"Chloe!" Two voices yelled.

"What? I'm dead serious." Chloe huffed, stepping outside and slamming the door behind her. An awkward silence filled the room.

"That was my best and only friend for most of my childhood."

"I'm surprised you didn't turn out worse."

"Hey!"

"I only speak the truth." Ladybug shrugged, collapsing onto the couch. "Speaking of... I messed up earlier.

"Oh?" Adrien sat beside her. "What gave you that impression?"

The top read article right now included facemorphs of their potential children. There was poll ranking baby names.

"There is a bright side!" She ignored his sarcasm and began to explain the benefits to having Hawkmoth focused on Adrien and Ladybug's fake relationship.

"We can continue to plan our attack while he's focused on you and I, as our alter egos!"

"Problem," Adrien interrupted, "I don't know your civilian identity."

"Solution!" She gave a weak smile, "You actually do."

"I do?!" The blonde jumped up, eyes wide. He put both hands up.

"Wait, wait, you just said it would be very bad to reveal yourself at this point."

"Master Fu gave his blessing."

"But I'll die." He looked at Ladybug seriously, "when I find out who you are my heart will stop beating and I'll die."

"Aren't you being dramatic?"

"How did you react to finding out my identity again?"

Ladybug couldn't meet Adrien's gaze, "Not well?"

"Not well!" Adrien agreed, "And I'm in love with you, so I'll freak out much more!"

A deep blush flooded her cheeks, "Adrien!"

"It's true Bug!" His cheeks were also scarlet, "I like you. You're identity will kill me."

"You can't possibly like me that much!"

"I do! I super duper do! The only way I could possibly like you more is if you were-" Adrien sealed his lips, eyes wild.

"Who?"

"I can't say it."

Ladybug furrowed her brow. "Adrien, who is it?"

"We just started getting close, I can't say it!" He stomped his feet like a child. He tried looking away.

"Chat-!"

"It's Marinette!" He slapped his hand over his mouth, neck and ears fully red. He shut his eyes. "Oh god, I like Marinette, okay?"

He heard Ladybug let out a wheeze, and the sound of her dropping back on the couch. She stared endlessly across the room.

Adrien couldn't open his eyes, "Say something LB."

"Say what?"

"Anything." There was a beat of silence.

"Spots off."

[army-author]

BTS’s reaction to teaching you how to play an instrument:

➝ anonymous asked: hello! this is my first time requesting and aaaaa,, can I request a situation where BTS teaches you how to play an instrument? ((can I also request suga's to be a piano if that isnt too much to ask; v; )) thank you!

➝ author’s note: this is so so late! i’m sure the person who requested this has long forgotten they requested it, but i want to eventually get through the backlog of requests i have. sorry if you’ve requested something from me, and i haven’t got around to it yet! i hope you all enjoy this. i haven’t written a reaction in a while, i forgot how fun they are.

Jin: “Human fingers are not meant to bend like this!” you complain, frowning down at your hand, your fingers awkwardly straining to reach the frets on your guitar.

“No, no, no,” Jin hurries to correct you, “It shouldn’t be that tricky. You’re bending your wrist too far forward, and making everything more difficult for yourself as a result.”

Your boyfriend sits down beside you on the sofa, his hand taking a hold of your wrist gently. He guides your fingers to a more comfortable position, and, suddenly it all makes sense.

“Better?” he asks.

You turn your gaze to him, “Yeah, wow, so much better.”

He gives you one of his winning grins. The kind that instantly melts your heart. “See, it’s easy.”

You’re not so sure. It may be better, but it’s certainly not easy either. At least you have Jin by your side to help you struggle through. You can’t help but stare at him, gaze locked on his features as his guiding hands move you through the chords. 

He notices you staring, and pulls back inquisitively. “Is something the matter, sweetheart.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I was just admiring your handsome face.”

He grins, “Flattery isn’t going to get you out of this guitar lesson! You asked for this.”

“Alright, alright,” you laugh, “But know that you’re not getting out of cuddling with me afterwards!”

He chuckles, “It’s a deal!”

Yoongi: Never were you more in love with Yoongi than when he was engrossed in his passions.

Whether that passion was you - tangled up in the sheets at two in the morning; or whether that passion was music - sitting at his computer with an adorable pout on his face, concentrating on his newest project, Yoongi bloomed when he was doing what he loved.

That’s why, as he sits down at the piano stool to help you learn a new piece, you can’t resist wrapping your arms around your boyfriend.

“Hey,” he objects as your arms lock around his torso, “I thought you wanted me to teach you the next part of this piece.”

“You can teach me like this,” you say, arms stubbornly wrapped around him.

He smiles, shaking his head, “Alright. I’m not going to complain about this.”

As you hug him, his hands wander over the keys. “So, this next section should be played staccato.” His fingers spring lightly off the keys, ringing out a bouncy tune, as he follows the sheet music. “Like this.”

Focusing on the music, Yoongi’s brow becomes furrowed, dark eyes intense. He’s lost in the sound, his body becoming one with the strings of the piano, his finger tips whispering his bidding.

“Hey, are you even paying attention?” he asks, as you grin at him from your comfy spot, your chin nestled on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you say, “You’re just so handsome, it’s distracting.”

You see the edges of his ears turning pink. “Hey, you lured me out here to help you with piano, not to compliment me!”

“I can’t help it,” you say, “You’re just too cute when you’re absorbed in your music.”

Before he can retort, you’re kissing the pout from his lips. At once he’s kissing you back, hands grabbing onto your waist, and pulling you closer to him on the tiny piano stool. His breath is warm, his lips soft, and it doesn’t take long for the both of you to completely forget about your piano lesson, tangled up in one another.

Hoseok:  “I give up,” you groan, throwing down the sheet music in frustration. You’ve been staring at the bars for a good fifteen minutes, and they make even less sense than before.

Hoseok glances at you, with your cheeks puffed up, irritation dripping from you. He had offered to help you learn how to sightread, but you were only getting more annoyed as the lesson continued. “I think it’s time we took a break,” he says, “What do you think?”

“Okay,” you humph, letting him slink an arm around you and lead you out of the room,  away from the piles of sheet music that torment you.

❋ ❋ ❋

At your favourite restaurant, with a warm bowl of spicy noodles in front of you, your annoyance ebbs away.

“All better?” Hoseok asks, across the table from you.

“Yes.” You reach a hand across the table to him, and he takes it with a wide smile. “You always know what to do to make me feel better.”

“Well, I have been dating you for almost two years now,” Hoseok points out. “It only makes sense that I can spot the warning signs when you’re getting hangry.”

“I was not hangry,” you scoff, but as you fill your mouth with noodles and spicy broth, you feel your grievances melting away like magic. Perhaps you were a little bit hangry...

Hoseok chuckles at you, as you fill up on food, your cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk. “If you say so, princess.”

You would retort back, but the food tastes too good to waste time bickering. And besides, Hoseok is looking so wonderfully perfect in the low light of the restaurant, his molasses eyes inexplicably compelling. He makes you feel the same giddiness that you felt on your first date with him. You simply give his hand a squeeze. “Thanks, Hoseok.”

Namjoon:  You wait patiently for Namjoon to pick up the call. 

Finally, the screen crackles to life, and you see your boyfriend’s smiling face on the other end, holding up his phone to his face. He’s in his parked car, wrapped up in a coat and hoody. “Hey, baby!” His face breaks into a dimpled smile on seeing you.

Your face is a mirror of his, showing a grin as wide as the one he graces you with. “Hi, Namjoon,” you say, “Is this a good time?”

“Any time’s a good time for you.”

A glow of warmth spreads through you. “I just had to see your face,” you admit, “I miss you.” You know the business trips are necessary for his job, but it still saddens you when the two of you are apart.

“I miss you too,” he replies, “But I’ll be home soon. I promise. So, how’s the music production going while I’ve been gone?”

You had been pestering Namjoon to teach you how to produce music, and in his spare time, he had been assisting you in mastering the basics.

“It’s going well,” you tell him. You have been practicing in his absence. Music connects you, even when you’re apart. Every time you feel an ache in your chest from his departure, you sit down at your computer, stick on your headphones, and let the music envelop you. “Actually,” you continue, “I’ve been working on a song while you’ve been gone.”

His eyes light up, “Can you send it to me?”

“It’s not quite finished,” you hurry to say.

“That’s okay. I’d love to hear it.”

“Alright,” you send the file across, from your phone to his. He frowns down at his phone screen, opening up the file containing your work in progress. At once, you hear your music floating back to you, tinny over your phone speakers. As the melody plays out, a smile spreads across Namjoon’s face. The music is incomplete and imperfect; you know it needs work. Still, it spells out a story of your love for Namjoon, it spells out your lonely days without him at home, and despite all the flaws, it spells out the deep-rooted emotion, raw and perfect.

Even in the low quality of his phone camera, you can see the shine in Namjoon’s eyes as he looks at you in awe. “It’s amazing!”

You blush with pride.

Jimin: “Jimin?” you wander into the kitchen, where your boyfriend is brewing a cup of tea.

“What is it?” he looks up from his mug, brown eyes soft - a familiar caramel gaze that always trips you up, falling into the melting depths for the millionth time.

“I want you to come listen to this,” you smile.

Jimin picks up his mug of tea, and follows you to the living room, where the piano sits.

You take a seat at the stool, and Jimin stands behind you. Taking a deep breath, you begin playing the song that Jimin’s been teaching you. While he’s been out of the house you’ve been practising secretly, with the intention of showing him how much progress you’ve made.

As the melodious tones float out from the piano, you find yourself melding with the familiar tune, fingers sinking naturally into the chords, just like Jimin had taught you. The song passes by in a blur, and you make it through without a single mistake.

When you swivel around on your stool, you find Jimin with his tea untouched, mouth hanging open.

“Woah,” he says, “Yeah… Woah. Amazing.” He gives you a thumbs up, and within that simple signal, he encapsulates all his pride. You feel ready to burst with happiness.

“It’s all because I have such a good teacher,” you grin, and now it’s his turn to beam with delight, cheeks flushing.

“In that case, I suppose we make a pretty good team,” he says.

Taehyung:  When you had started taking saxophone lessons from Taehyung, it had simply been a ploy to spend more time your crush.

You hadn’t expected Taehyung to reciprocate your feelings.

And you certainly hadn’t expected to be good at saxophone!

Now, as you stand on stage with a thousand gazes on you, you search for a singe face in the crowd. You see him in the front row, eyes wide - eyes you fell for long ago.

Taehyung grins up at you, giving an encouraging nod, and a flood of courage rushes through you. You put the mouthpiece to your lips and begin to play, just as Taehyung had taught you.

Your melody fills the stadium, and you lose yourself to the music. It transports you to a different place, a different time, to earlier in your relationship with Taehyung. He wraps his arms around you, repositioning your body to help you play better. He feels warm, his hands are soft, he smells familiar - like the smell of home. Blood rushing to your cheeks, the giddy thumping of your heart, your racing thoughts. The feelings of falling deeper in love. This is what you hope your music portrays.

With your song drawing to a close, your eyes find Taehyung again in the crowd. His face says it all: pride, awe, love. You know that as you step offstage, Taehyung will be turning to the people beside him, and proudly stating, “That’s my girlfriend!”

The thought makes you happier than you can comprehend.

Jungkook:  “Jungkook?”

Your boyfriend looks up at the call of his name. He’s sitting on the sofa, a controller in his hand, video game paused on screen. “What’s up?”

“Can you help me?” you ask.

He’s up from the sofa in an instant. “Of course,” he walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you. His sweater is soft as he pulls you into its folds. He smells of detergent.

“I’m struggling with a particular piece of a song,” you explain, “I can’t quite get the rhythm right.”

You lead Jungkook from your living room to the study where his drum kit sits. Picking up your phone, you play a section of the song for him. The tune bounces along, with the drums switching up the rhythm.

“I can’t even figure out what time signature this is,” you groan.

Jungkook quirks his head, listening to the music. He takes your phone from you, rewinding the song a few seconds so he can listen to the tricky rhythm again. “This one is a polyrythm,” he explains after some consideration, “That’s why you’re struggling with it. The drummer’s playing two time signatures at once.”

Your eyes widen, “That sounds hard.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook smiles, “Let’s go through it together.” He sits you down on the drum throne, urging you to pick up the drum sticks. From behind, he takes a hold of each of your hands, fingers closing around yours. With your right hand he taps out a slow simple rhythm in one time signature. With your other hand he brings in a new time signature that beats alongside the first. The feeling is foreign to you, each hand feeling strange as it beats the drums independently. Jungkook’s hands are confident on yours, and even when you feel you’re stumbling, his rhythm is unwavering.

“It’s just  matter of practice,” Jungkook says, “It will feel strange at first, but if you get used to how the different time signatures feel, it will soon come naturally to you.”

You stop, swivelling around on the throne to face him. From where you sit, your head only reaches his stomach. You rest your face against the soft fabric of his sweater, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thanks, Jungkook.”

He runs a hand through your hair, and you hear a smile in his voice, “You’re welcome.”

! I did not make these gifs, all credits to original creators !

[requests are closed at the time of posting]

[rocorambles]

A Skulk of Foxes

Pairing: Kita x Reader

Prompt: Fantasy

Genre: SFW, Fluff, Fox Shifter Kita, Fantasy AU, Shifter AU

Summary: You moved to the woods to start fresh, begin a new chapter in your life. Little do you know just how much your world is about to change because of a skulk of foxes.  

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s SFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Masterlist goes live Thursday, October 29th 11:00pm U.K. time!) 

You sigh with relief when you finally finish unpacking the last box of your possessions, stretching your aching muscles as excitement finally begins to bubble inside of you when you proudly look at your new home you’ve made for yourself. Reality is finally sinking in and your giddy with the feeling of a fresh start, a new beginning. The quaint little cabin is certainly different from the cramped modern apartment you had in the heart of Tokyo, but different is exactly what you need and you nestle into the cozy armchair by the window in your new living room, a cup of hot tea in your hands as you enjoy the silence of nature and the view of swaying branches. 

If anyone were to have told you that you’d willingly choose to live in the middle of the woods by yourself a few years ago, you would have laughed. You were a city girl through and through and the idea of not being surrounded by the noise of traffic and crowds of people was baffling. But after your long-term relationship had taken a nosedive into the ground and crash and burned, suddenly the city felt suffocating, filled with too many memories, too many mutual acquaintances and when you had seen this listing on your way back home from work one night, you had jumped at the opportunity to escape it all and start a new chapter. 

Your new way of life takes some adjusting to, but you don’t mind as you pull on your new hiking boots, eager to explore the acres of wooded lands you’re surrounded by. The air is crisp and fresh, and you inhale deeply, soaking in the peaceful quiet only interrupted by the crunching of dirt and grass under your feet. And that’s how your days idle by, you scoping out the area in the early mornings as the sun is rising with your trusty nature handbook you’d bought in one hand, a basket in the other hand as you look back and forth between the herbs and plants you see and the painted illustrations and tips in the book, returning with a bundle of freshly picked produce before signing onto your work computer and dutifully putting in your hours. It’s a tiring grind, but when you finally get to power down your laptop and sit outside under the bright night stars with a glass of wine in your hand, it doesn’t seem so bad after all. 

You get savvier and more adventurous, really leaning into country living as you begin to grow your own vegetables and fruit, set up a fire pit, plant flowers that you use to spruce up your living space. It’s a wonderful life, but there’s only one slight concern in the back of your mind.

The foxes. 

Growing up in the city, you’d never learned how to handle animals other than the rats and roaches the concrete jungle was infested with. Sure, you love your share of fluffy dogs and cats that you’d pet and play with, but there’s a big difference between domesticized pets and wild animals and you had noticed early on that your neck of the woods seemed to be rampant with foxes. You wonder if it’s just the fact that you’d never seen a fox in real life before, but you can’t help but think these foxes seem much larger than your usual fox, their fur and eye colors ranging far more than you thought was biologically possible. But even though they seem to like hovering around you and watching you intently from a distance, they never draw near and they leave your gardens alone, so you dismiss their presence, letting them do as they please as you go about your own business. 

The weather’s getting colder and you figure now is the time to test the fire pit you’d built. It takes a bit of fumbling around, but you beam with pride when you get a flame started, mesmerized by the flickering light and warmth beginning to billow. And although the wind has a bite to it, the radiating heat keeps you comfortable as you roast the chicken you had bought in town, mouth already watering as the smell of cooked meat begins to permeate throughout the air. But you’re startled when two furry bodies suddenly brush up against you and you stay perfectly still, unsure what to do when a gold fox leaps into your lap, curling into a fluffy ball as he stares at you while a silver fox calmly sits next to you, nudging your hand with his head in a silent order to pet him and you tentatively scratch behind his ears, staring in awe as he leans into your touch. 

For wild animals, they’re oddly well behaved and affectionate and you’re frankly stunned that they hadn’t just pounced at the raw meat and ran away with your dinner. But you’re not complaining and you continue petting them as your meal continues cooking, only stopping to their dismay when the chicken is ready to be cut up. Your heart breaks a bit when you see them staring expectantly at you and you swear they're both pouting as you make a move to bring the chicken inside the house, but their ears perk up when you leave your door open and beckon them inside and they’re quick to race towards you, rushing between your legs before making their way to your dining table and jumping up on the extra chairs you have set. It’s certainly an odd sight to see two large wild foxes easily make themselves at home, but you can’t help but fondly smile at them when you prepare three plates of food and they eagerly dig in. 

They’re surprisingly neat about eating and it’s almost eerie how they seem to purposefully keep the scraps and bones on their plate, almost human-like the way they grab your napkin, using it to wipe their mouths and paws. Maybe they used to be someone’s pets? But you don’t dwell on it, enjoying the company they provide as they curl up by your feet as you wash the dishes, as their feet pitter-patter after you as you do some errands around the cabin and you’re almost sad when they nudge you to the door, waiting for you to let them out before you go to sleep. 

You quickly realize there’s nothing to be sad about, not when you have a furry entourage that walks beside you whenever you’re outside, not when bodies are weaving in between your legs, almost threatening to trip you with how excited they are to play with you, not when heads are constantly butting against you, begging for pets. It seems like your two friends had spread the word and now you have a whole slew of friendly foxes wanting to get to know you better and you love every second of it, even building a little door for them to easily walk in and out of your cabin and it becomes a common occurrence for you to wake up to fluffy bodies curled around your body, for foxes to be perched on your dining room chairs at meal times, for you to have a lap full of needy foxes wanting your attention when all your bellies are full.  

But there’s one fox who keeps his distance from you and even though he’s not the largest of the bunch, even you can sense the quiet authority he has as the other foxes are quick to lower their heads submissively and run to him when he barks at them. Even the golden fox who you’ve come to pinpoint as the troublemaker of the group seems to quiet down a bit around him and one day when he’s being just a tad too rowdy with you, nipping you harder than usual as he excitedly pounces on you, he immediately whines and sinks his head into the crook of your neck in apology when the light gray leader harshly growls at him. You affectionately pet the sad gold pile in your arms and verbally assure the gray fox that you’re fine even though you’re sure that he can’t understand a word you’re saying, but to your surprise, as if he comprehends exactly what you’re trying to convey, the gray fox relaxes a bit and lies back down, going back to quietly watching his pack and you. 

The weather’s becoming frigid and you know it’s silly to worry about clearly healthy and strong wild animals who’ve fended for themselves their whole lives, but you can’t help the pang of concern you have for your furry friends as snow begins to creep in. However, in hindsight, maybe you should have been more concerned for yourself. It’s an especially brutal day and you really shouldn’t be outside at all, not with the wind whipping at neck breaking speeds and torrential amounts of snow pouring down, but like a true city idiot, you’d procrastinated about restocking your wood supply and now with nothing left to keep you warm, you have no choice but to venture out and collect as much as you can to at least keep a fire going on during the worst of the snow storm. 

You pride yourself on knowing the woods like the back of your hand now, but the pain of the wind whipping your face and the never ending white in your vision as the snow keeps on coming down makes it hard to concentrate, makes it hard to orient yourself and as the frost begins to get to you, making you shiver, making you lose all train of thoughts other than the fact that you’re literally freezing to death, you panic. You’re frozen stiff as you wildly circle around, trying to calm the swirling dark thoughts in your head as you try to make sense of where you are, but it’s no use. Everything looks the same now and you think you might be sick from the rocketing anxiety inside of you, but you’re pulled back to reality by a harsh tug at your coat sleeve and you almost sob in relief when you see a familiar light gray pelt tipped with black. 

Brown eyes look imploringly at you as he gives your sleeve another harsh tug and that’s all the encouragement you need to stumble after him, trusting him to bring you back to safety. Your legs are numb and there’s not a hint of grace in your steps and for a second, you’re afraid of falling behind, but your heart warms at the way he makes sure to never be more than an arm's length in front of you, always turning his head back to make sure you’re still right behind him, nipping insistently at you when you pause for too long. And even when you finally reach your cabin, he practically shoves you through your door with his whole body, almost ripping your clothes as he rapidly helps you remove your soaked through clothing. 

You’re shocked to see him still standing outside your bathroom door when you finally step out of the warm water, but still overwhelmed and exhausted by the day’s events, you only briefly acknowledge him as your body barely makes it to your bed before collapsing. And as your eyes shut and you slip under a heavy cloud of sleep, you swear you feel arms and hands rearranging you, carefully tucking you underneath your blankets, propping your head up on a pillow. You swear you hear a male voice scolding you for putting yourself in danger, telling you to rest. But too exhausted to open your heavy lids, you chalk it up to your imagination before completely drifting off. 

You’ll never be able to fully explain what happened as you finally wake up only to find that a fire has been started, a healthy supply of dry wood set up by it, your wet clothes hung up to dry, but unable to really remember much after you’d been guided back to your cabin, you think you must have just been working on auto-pilot before you passed out. (Never mind that you certainly don’t remember collecting that much wood.) But with no better explanation, you let it be, just glad to be safe and warm. And it seems like you’re not the only one happy to still see you alive and kicking as familiar visitors come by to check in on you and you have a strange suspicion that they’re worried about you, even the gold fox being more docile than usual as he cuddles with you. To your surprise, their leader also pays you a visit and you can’t help but feel chastised when you thank him for rescuing you, only to get a sharp nip and a growl in return and you swear he’s glowering at you. But it seems that all is forgiven when he shoves the gold fox out of your lap and regally takes his place, curling up and falling fast asleep on top of you. 

They never let you leave your cabin alone again that winter and it’s almost comical when they let out a series of howls as you climb into your car when you refuse to let even one of them ride with you. You wonder if an outsider would think you’re crazy as you speak to them, telling them you’d be right back after you pick up some much needed supplies and food from town that you can’t get by yourself in the woods. But eventually they quiet down and you chuckle when you see them all sitting outside your cabin through your rear car window, watching you leave, and you have a strong suspicion that they’ll be in the same exact position waiting for you when you return home. 

The town’s small, but everyone’s so friendly and helpful that you don’t mind waiting a tiny bit longer in line as the sole cashier takes care of everyone, enjoying the friendly chitter chatter and catching up on what’s been going on. The sheriff greets you and you smile at the handsome man. Daichi had been one of the first people to go out of his way to greet you. “It’s a sheriff’s duty to know everyone in town,” he had said, but you had a feeling that sheriff or not, he’d still be friendly enough to try and get to know the new person in town. Conversation is pleasant as both of you share what’s been going on in your lives, but your heart drops when he warns you to be careful of poachers in your area. His team is still trying to find and arrest them, but until then, he cautions you from wandering too far from home. He continues rambling on, but you’ve completely tuned him out, your mind only thinking of your new furry family and everything is a blur as you shakily pack your car trunk and race home. 

Relief floods through you when you see the foxes still lazing about and lounging in your yard, perking up at the sight and sound of your rapidly approaching vehicle. But their fur stands up and their tails rise in agitation at your distressed state as you usher them into the safety of your cabin and before you know it, you’re surrounded by multiple bodies whimpering and trying to jump on you to soothe you. You know it’s silly to talk to them and try to explain what’s going on, but with no other way to relay your feelings, you tell them what Daichi had told you, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when you beg them to be careful, telling them they can use your house as a safe shelter whenever they need, and you don’t even realize that you’re almost completely sobbing until their light gray leader leaps into your lap and gently laps away your salty tears, nuzzling his face against your cheek as if he’s trying to comfort you. And whether or not that’s really what he was intending, you do feel better as you hug his large body close to you, burying your face into his soft fur. 

You feel lighter after that night, still a little wary and concerned for your newfound friends, but days pass and life seems normal. You don’t hear gunshots. You don’t see strange men roaming through the woods. Daichi and you keep in contact and although he tells you they still haven’t caught the perpetrators yet, slight hope rises in you and you wonder if they’ve moved on to a different area. But your hopes are instantly dashed when you’re abruptly woken by paws frantically clawing at you, loud distressed howls right in your ear and with your heart thumping out of your chest you stare with wide bleary eyes at the gold and silver foxes nudging you out of bed, one leading the way, the other repeatedly rushing you, his head pushing against the back of your legs. 

You have a bad feeling about what has them in such an uproar and you hate that your apprehension was warranted when you see their leader crying in pain, an ugly sharp metal contraption digging deeply into one of his front legs and suddenly you’re moving even faster than your furry companions as you lunge towards him, quickly, but carefully trying to assess the damage, trying to figure out how to untangle him from the horrid trap. You’ve just managed to pry open the trap enough for him to free himself and limp a bit aways when you hear the sounds of men's voices and approaching footsteps. And there’s nothing friendly about the way they’re shouting, nothing welcoming about the glint of their guns in the flashlight beams bouncing around, so before you can even strategically think about what you’re doing, you pick up the injured fox, careful not to jostle or touch his wound as you run as fast as your legs can move, not stopping even when your lungs are burning from exertion, even when you want to keel over from exhaustion, urged on and not allowed to slow down by the nips to your ankles the gold and silver foxes give you as they run alongside you. 

Gunshots are whizzing around you, but you have the knowledge of the terrain and expert guides on your side and the angry screams get quieter and farther away the longer you race forward before soon enough there’s only your labored breathing and the tiny cries of the fox you’re holding to your chest. But despite that, you don’t slow down, throwing your front door open as you slowly lay the gray fox on your bed, rushing to grab your first-aid box while simultaneously calling Daichi, putting him on speaker phone as you wash the bloody matted fur. You know you must sound frazzled, distracted as you fumble with words, trying to give him the best approximate location you can of where you’d lost the poachers while you tenderly pet the whimpering fox who’s hissing with every wipe you give to his bleeding injury, but you thank whoever’s listening that Daichi makes sense of your stuttered words and tells you he’s on his way to scan the area and for you to get some rest before hanging up and leaving you to give your sole attention to your patient. 

You whisper sweet encouraging words in a soft tone, apologizing and stroking his stomach everytime he winces as you continue cleaning his wound, but he stays perfectly still, not budging even an inch despite his discomfort and when you finally bandage him up, you smile as you see him finally slumping into your bedsheets, exhaustion finally catching up to him now that adrenaline isn’t amping him up and you can’t help the affectionate kiss you plant on his forehead as you tuck him into your bed, unaware of the way brown eyes stare at you in shock, unblinking as they process the intimate gesture you’d gifted him. And when you get ready for bed, shooing the other foxes out of your room to give your special guest some space and peace to fully relax, you’re still oblivious to the way a wet snout tentatively returns your gesture when you close your eyes, making light contact with your own forehead before curling his furry head underneath your chin and basking in your natural warmth. 

It’s warm when you wake up, which is welcome when it’s frigid outside of the safety of your blankets and you instinctively lean into the source expecting to feel the familiar plush fur of the foxes who come to share your bed sometimes. But your eyes shoot open when you feel warm skin underneath your fingertips and you have to fight back the scream when you come face to face with a man you don’t recognize who’s groggily opening his brown eyes, your body scrambling backwards. Tangled in the sheets, you don’t get far and fear lances through you as you stare wide-eyed at the stranger beside you who’s...panicking even more than you are? 

You pause in your escape attempt as you take a closer look at the man who’s frantically wrapping your blanket around his bare body, brown eyes staring at you in fear which is strange considering this is your room he’s intruding in. Common sense tells you to be wary and yet there’s something familiar about his eyes and when you finally take note of his light gray hair tipped with black and the bandage around his arm, disbelief runs through you as you tentatively approach his huddled form. 

“Are you- are you the fox I took care of?”

Brown eyes warily observe you as you draw near, but they widen in surprise when your hand gently runs through his hair and you give him the same sweet smile you’ve always given him when he was in his fox form. 

“You’re not scared of me?” 

You laugh. “If anything, I’m more surprised than anything else. Care to explain?”

And spurred on by the hope that the human he’s come to love might actually accept him for who he really is, he is quick to tell you everything and anything and you listen in amazement as he tells you about shifters, how him and his pack are all fox shifters, how there are different types of shifters all over the world, how they’re much more common than humans realize. He tells you his name, Kita, and the names of every fox shifter you’ve met. He tells you about the awful history of humans hunting them down to sell on the black market which has led them to live as foxes, deep in the woods, away from any living soul. He tells you about how you’re the first human his pack has interacted with for years, the first human to gain their trust after years of loneliness, never being able to access or connect with their human side. 

There’s a brief moment of silence as you take everything in, still softly carding your fingers through his hair. But the lingering question in your head finally slips out. 

“Why did you reveal yourself to me now?”

And your lips quirk at the shy flustered expression on his face as he buries deeper into your cozy blankets. 

“I was too exhausted to keep my fox form after everything that happened last night.”

But before you can tease him a bit more, there’s a knock on your door and you panic, unsure how to explain the unknown man in your cabin. However, it seems that you have nothing to worry about when you spin around, only to see Kita’s fox form nonchalantly curled up in your bed, looking at you with his own smug amusement at your gaping mouth. You rush to the door, Kita padding after you, a slight limp from his front leg and upon seeing the sheriff through your peephole, you greet him, giddy with relief when he tells you that they’ve managed to apprehend all the poachers thanks to your tip last night. 

It never crosses your mind how strange it was that Daichi so easily arrested all the men despite your extremely vague directions and despite it being pitch black, but unknown to you, it’s easier than you think to maneuver through the dense night woods when you have wings. However, Kita’s more perceptive than you and when he scents the air, he looks in interest at the man who smells like a crow and brown and black eyes lock for a second as a hint of acknowledgement runs through Daichi’s eyes when the shifter inside of him sees the fox for what he really is. But it’s only a fleeting glance, too quick for your human eyes to notice, and Daichi parts ways, subtly nodding to the fox who’s currently laying on your feet before waving goodbye to you, leaving Kita and you alone once again. Well, maybe not that alone, you think, as a group of familiar foxes come racing towards the both of you once Daichi is gone. 

Life is chaotic, in a good way, but chaotic nonetheless after that. It’s a new dynamic for all of you as you try to merge your two worlds and ways of life together. It no longer phases you when you see glimpses of naked men running here and there as they shift between their human and fox forms and you’ve learned to always have spare sets of clothing on hand to quickly throw their way when they do decide to take their human shape for a spin. Atsumu has finally stopped whining about not being allowed to sleep in your bed with you anymore after Kita had put him in his place and your face goes hot when you remember exactly what had transpired during that conversation. 

When you had found out they were shifters, you found yourself being a little more self-conscious and self-aware around them. It seemed unbecoming of a woman to be sharing the same bed or changing in front of foxes that turned into handsome men and soon Kita was the only one allowed in your bedroom. Atsumu had howled and complained the first night that Kita slipped into your bed next to you, demanding to also be let in, questioning why Kita was allowed to sleep with you, especially in his human form. And suddenly feeling like a parent who suddenly has to explain the birds and the bees to their child, you grow flustered, unsure how to broach the subject. But sensing your panic, a large hand gently grabbed your chin, turning you until you were facing the serious countenance that you’d come to love, and in front of the still wailing younger man, he had captured your lips in a searing kiss before pointedly looking at a suddenly silent Atsumu. 

“That’s why,” he had calmly said, but before he could even fully voice those two words, Atsumu had quickly retreated, closing the door behind him and leaving the two of you alone. 

The two of you had skirted around directly talking about what was going on between the two of you, but that kiss had officially sealed the deal and you both stay up late that night, talking about your future life together, as his mate, as your boyfriend and it seems like unsurprisingly, Atsumu has run his mouth off and the whole pack is there waiting to congratulate you two on finally getting together the next morning. 

And now here you are, living in a recently expanded cabin, loud and full of bodies, both furry and human. You take a sip of your coffee, rolling your eyes as you hear the twins bicker, a slight smile on your face when you see Aran and Suna in their fox forms, napping on the couch, the others sprawled out here and there as they cook and eat breakfast. But it’s the strong arms that wrap around your waist from behind, the mouth stealing a sip from your piping hot mug before burying his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder that makes your heart flutter and you turn to kiss Kita, melting into his hold as you both survey your new family, your new home.   

[heliads]

Hometown Memories

Sam Wilson left more behind in Delacroix, Louisiana than just his sister and his family home. Sometimes, memories of the past come more frequently than you’d expect.

masterlist

Sam’s only about half an hour from the harbor when he thinks he sees her.

By all accounts, it shouldn’t make sense. Not every rusted, dented car has to be hers, not every flash of a smile could belong to her. Sam hasn’t seen her in years, and even the memories of them are scarce and far between. Yet with every mile closer to his old home, Sam can’t help but remember. 

The car comes and goes beside him, but it doesn’t matter. He’s already lost in thought.

There had been a girl one street over and four houses down. She was only there half the year, her family always off on work trips and dragging her along. Sam always looked up when he heard the roar of a car’s engine down that road, just in case it was her. Most times it wasn’t, and he’d go back to whatever he was doing before with slightly less fervor, but sometimes it was, and he couldn’t help getting up just to make sure. Just to see if he was right.

She always ran down to the docks when she first arrived back home. You could tell it was her even from a distance, even when her back was turned. She’d jump down onto the wind-washed wooden slats, and pause for a second, letting the sun drown her whole. She’d stand still, and then by some magic she would be able to tell Sam was there and turn around, smiling. 

Back already? He’d ask, and she’d smile. We can only stay away for so long. They were young then, elementary schoolers then teenagers always returning to the water to escape from everything for just a second. Sam chuckles now to think of it. What he wouldn’t give to go back to those days, when the largest troubles seem like nothing now. But, he concedes, he wouldn’t truly be able to go back. You can’t turn back the clock forever, and the past must always stay in the past. That being said, Sam can’t seem to shake the habit of reminiscing.

Y/N L/N was one of many friends Sam made on the docks. She was also the only one like her, in a class entirely by herself. Sam can still picture the smile that flashed onto her face at anything and everything, like any small sunrise or happening was cause for a celebration. In times of worry, Sam sometimes wonders what she’d think of him. Does she know that he’s the Falcon now? Has she put the two together to realize that the broadly grinning boy from the boats is the same man with metal wings and a duty that never seems to stop growing heavier?

To be honest, if she saw him moping over the past she’d probably laugh. She’d cover the smile with her hand a second later, as if trying to force herself to stay serious, but it wouldn’t work for long. Her eyes would dance with the glint of laughter, and then the corners of her mouth would tug up as if they couldn’t stay sober for much longer. He’s seen this exact look before, been witness to the moods that changed like the tides.

Sam can remember one day in vivid history. He’d flopped down onto the beach, and seconds later, a pair of sand-tapped footsteps appeared next to him. She’d sat down, curious, and he’d explained himself. Some worry, some trouble that seemed to swallow the world whole. It seemed major to him, of course, but Y/N could never stay worried for long. You could never catch her with her guard down, her impulses always dancing away from you. 

That’s what made Y/N herself, after all. Never serious for a second. Her parents used to click their tongues and mutter about how she’d be brought down hard by the real world. For some reason, this thought makes the smile die away from Sam’s face. What would she be now? After the Blip, after everything that they’ve been forced to go through, would she have that same carefree smile? The idea of her burdened down by worry, her brow creased as it never had been before, seems so utterly unreal that Sam realizes he doesn’t know what to do if he sees it true. The Y/N of his memories is so different from the Y/N of today that for a second he doesn’t know if he could recognize her at all.

The Y/N from that day would have laughed at him. Of course you’ll recognize me, she would say, I don’t look that different at all. That’s basically what had happened that afternoon, anyway. She’d found a way to spin his troubles into a better light, to give him hope. Then she’d stood up, offering a hand and betting that she could race her sailboat around the coast and make a better time than his boat. She’d been right, but only because she managed to time it so that Sam got stuck behind a group of kayakers that he couldn’t ditch for the world. 

When he’d complained of this, she’d just laughed and said that they hadn’t set any rules about trapping your best friend behind the slowest paddlers on the planet, so she didn’t intend to start now. Sam had considered this for a second, then burst out laughing. You’ll regret that in our next race, I promise. You’ll be so far behind me you’ll need a second boat. Sam can’t remember if his vow held true or not. They’d had countless races, some won and some lost. The outcome rarely mattered, anyways- it was worth it from the second Sam looked across the prow of his boat and saw Y/N, cheeks whipped by the wind and a look of giddy concentration on her face. He’d partaken in a thousand races just to see her smile.

Sam doesn’t know why he’s thinking about her so much. In truth, they hadn’t had that many memories to share. If Y/N was only there half a year, and they were busy most of their days, they didn’t see each other often at all. Yet somehow those few moments were even the better for it, because they were stolen away despite all the work and hubbub of the usual days. 

The signs for Delacroix, Louisiana, are coming up into view now, and Sam turns off onto his exit. Maybe he keeps thinking back to those sunlit days because he’s guilty over how they ended. Sam had left Louisiana for the Air Force, trading out the tide lapping at the beach for heavy artillery fire and too many friends gone. Sam had thought that he’d have more time before being shipped off, but then he’d gotten the call late one night telling him he’d be expected at the base the next day.

So, early that next morning Sam had driven off to the regular crowd of well-wishers. Just before he had ducked into his car, he’d seen Y/N standing at the edge of the group. He’d moved towards her, but she was always one arm away or his path was intercepted by a kindly, too talkative neighbour. Just when he’d reached her, he was being pulled away again lest he arrive late. He had never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

Sam can still see that road before him, see Y/N standing in the edge of his rearview mirror. She’d watched him go for as long as she’d thought he could see her, then turned and walked away. Her steps were sure, her back straight against the chill of the morning air. Sam had stayed in Afghanistan for years, and then spent most of his time in Washington, D.C. after that. The few times he’d visited the Louisiana docks, she was never there or never saw him. That was that, and slowly the memories of the two of them faded from his mind. If he saw her at all, he would have no idea what to say to her.

Sam is saved from conversation by the true reason of his arrival at his hometown. He’s not here to see old friends, or ghosts of his past, he’s here to help his sister Sarah. Sam feels twinges of regret when he sees the new worries creasing her eyes, the new burdens that he should have been there to fix. How do you solve the problems of the years when you were dead? Even the experience of the Avengers can’t help him there. There are two battlefields he must face, Sam realizes, and he’s only replaced one with the other.

Sam’s helping Sarah carry some boxes from the boat to the house. As they walk the faded slats of the docks, though, he can’t help glancing at the turned heads of passing neighbours for any signs of a familiar silhouette. When they cross the roads, he listens for that telltale roar of the engine. Sam does his best to be discreet, but Sarah must be paying attention, because at last she turns to him with a teasing grin.

“You’re looking for her, aren’t you?” Sarah doesn’t have to say a name for Sam to know that she’s talking about Y/N. Who else would he be looking for? Sam nods, eyes still trained on the distance. “I have regrets about how I left. She’s one of them.” Sarah nods, falling silent for a second. “She is here, you know. You were lucky with timing. You’re not the only one who seems to want to spread your wings.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “If that was supposed to be a Falcon pun-” Sarah busies herself with the latch on the door. “I thought it was pretty good. Not that much of a bird-en.” Sam groans. “That was awful. Is this my punishment for not being here as often? I get hit with the bad jokes?” Sarah drops her boxes off in a corner of the room, pointing a finger at him even as she begins to laugh. “That’s not a punishment, that’s a blessing. Keep it in mind.” Sam chuckles in spite of himself. “I’ll do my best.”

As the sun sets on the horizon, Sam finds himself heading back to the family boat. Some part of him is hoping that Sarah will reconsider selling it, that she’ll think of all the family history and be swayed to save it. But Sam knows that the memories aren’t the problem, it’s the bank. You can’t afford to keep the memories of the family boat fresh in your mind if you can’t afford the cost of the boat itself. Sam steps onto the boat, feeling the familiar sway of wood on the water. He stares out at the horizon, at the blue lines of tides and fishing boats returning late at night. Maybe Washington did good things for him, but Sam has a special place in his heart for his hometown.

He stays there a while longer, running his hands over the worn wood paneling and the photos still tacked onto the walls. At last, he relents and leaves, stepping out into the gold drenched sunset of the docks once more. Sam is just turning to step off of the wooden slats when he nearly bumps into someone and turns to check if they’re alright. The apologies die on his tongue when he recognizes the woman. It is Y/N, of course. Sam doesn’t think he could truly step foot back at the bay without seeing her again.

She looks just like the girl from his memories. Her eyes are older now, carry more memories with them. Her parents would be happy, she seems to have learned to scrap by in this contest of a world just like they’d hoped. Yet even with the passage of the years, she still has that glint in her eyes, the one light that could never truly disappear even as she grew up.

She doesn’t have to consider him a moment before a smile curves her lips. “Sam Wilson?” Sam returns her smile, something like relief blossoming in his chest. He hadn’t considered that fear before- maybe it would be worrying if he didn’t recognize her, but something about her not knowing him would be worse. He didn’t think of it before because he was so caught up in the past, but knowing that she knows him is enough to calm a wound he didn’t know was there.

He must have stood there silent for too long, because a slight uncertainty bubbles up behind her eyes. “We used to hang out when we were younger. I’m-” Sam cuts her off. “Y/N L/N. Don’t worry, I couldn’t forget you if I tried. You were always the best with the boats, remember?” Y/N laughs at that, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you’re evidently still the kindest boy to walk these shores. I didn’t know you thought I was the best.”

Sam chuckles. “I didn’t need to say it. Remember when you beat my motorboat in your sailboat?” Y/N smiles too, her eyes glowing as she thinks back to that day. “All because of a trick. I was so proud of myself for trapping you back behind those kayakers. Sometimes I can stand tourists after all.” Sam groans. “It was terrible. I had to explain myself to everybody why I upset so many newbies in boats.”

Y/N’s smiles deepens. “You upset them? It’s not like you mowed them over and left them struggling in your wake.” Sam shudders. “You wouldn’t have known by talking to them.” They stay silent for a moment, reveling in the chance to soak up the old memories, then Y/N speaks once more. “It’s not like you’ve been the worse for the years. You're getting up to some pretty important things, I hear.”

Sam sighs. “It’s certainly an experience. Some days I have to shake my head and wonder how I got into these rooms to speak to these people.” Y/N clicks her tongue. “You know, I’m not entirely surprised. You’ve always had a knack for standing up for people, this is just that at a bigger scale. You and your big heart, always finding a way to look out for more people.”

Sam’s gaze softens. “That’s one way to look at it. Sometimes I worry I do more harm than good.” Y/N places a hand on his arm, the comforting gesture somehow connecting the two of them in a way that words could never manage. “I have a feeling you’ll figure it out. You’ve got a good heart, Sam Wilson, and I’d count on a good heart a thousand times before anything else.”

Sam offers her a hand as they both step off the docks and back onto solid ground. “Will I be seeing you around?” He asks, and Y/N tilts her head. “I don’t know. I never plan on staying long, but I could make an exception.” Sam feels oddly pleased at this. “For an old friend?” Y/N looks back at him, the smile hitting him like a sunray. “For the girl who never got a chance to say goodbye.”

When they go their separate ways and Sam walks back to Sarah’s house, he can’t tell whether or not Y/N feels the same way about him. There will always be more chances to see her again, to remember her little phrases and changes in expression. This is part of going back, of making the commitment to his family and his home and his past. If Sam wasn’t here to see Y/N again, he wouldn’t be here at all. Tomorrow brings with it another day, and Sam has a good feeling that he’ll be waiting for a hometown ghost to take his hand once more.

[muffindaddystyles]

HUSBAND!HARRY HEADCANONS (NSFW+)

He'd be an excited puppy at his wedding day. Getting emotional to an extent he'd stutter his vows only to shove his face into his palms out of shyness and hug you making everyone laugh and hoot.

At the after party would be pulling you close by wrist whispering dirty things and sweet nothings not forgetting to mention of Mr/Mrs. Styles each time.

Danced and drink his arse off making you sneak with the whines that he can't wait anymore to take you instead knacker out the moment he touches the mattress.

Would apologise in the morning with room service, his mouth and fingers.

Would be smothering you in loud wet kisses when you'd dress up to go outside with him.

Wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself even in public and steal pecks when no-one's watching. The whole time lacing his fingers in between yours, swaying them when walking through streets of italy and kissing each knuckle with a smile worming up.

You would drag him to local food stalls and have an eating competition with him. In the end when you'd get too lazy would be all pouty and doe eyes asking him to pick you up.

Alot of love making. Like alot it would make you cancel plans of next day.

Lazying around the suite in Styles embroidered robes.

He'd have flowers bought to you every morning. Pastel heart shaped boxes of different chocolates. He's too romantic. It rots your teeth.

Would have tea in the evening at hotel's balcony.

If you'd be two feets away from somewhere outside he'd call you "wifey/hubby" to gain your attention. The cocky bastard he's would point at you when everyone would smile at the new couple fondly.

You'd groan at the airport stomping your feet because he bulked up so much luggage due to his habit of drooling over every decoration piece, "'m sorry! Kay? I'll ask Jeff to figure something out." He'd give you sheepish smile and it always does wonders.

Coming back home you'd give eachother back rubs and shoulder messages which soon turns into a hard fuck.

He'd book spas for you stating he wishes that you don't find him a boring husband.

Would proudly introduce you to everyone as his life partner tucking you by his side knowing you get socially akward in the crowds.

Would help you in the kitchen in burning pots and pans squealing to have a run when you'd get grumpy. Would come to bed after scrubbing them nicely and you'd jump in his lap telling it's okay and rewarding him with kisses.

The first big fight you'd have would lit up from the stupidest reason. Could be from fact he didn't like the fictional character you love so much and you mock him that he always does this leading it to a huge fight that he doesn't love you. Making him sleep at the couch only to crawl to him in the wee of night and he'd just sprawl his arm for you to cuddle into him without a word.

Would look at lil toddlers and wrap his arms around you, chin on your shoulder exclaiming "we'll make beautiful babies one day too."

Would help you in laundry moreso his opportunity to stare your ass and tease you. Making you sit at the dryer to watch you thrash with vibrations while he does nothing but kiss you everywhere except where you need him most to annoy you.

Would sternly tell you to give a resign to your job as they treat you bad.

Would ask someone in his rich friends circle for your job and it would be the cause of your guys first serious fight where you don't talk to him for days, then when you'll cry softly in his arms "do you think 'm not capable of getting a job that you'd have to ask your friends?" So innocently it breaks his heart and he smooches kisses at your forehead with sorrys that it wasn't his intention at all.

Would have lavender and salt baths running for eachother after a hectic day.

Would share excited news with eachother first.

He'd make you listen his songs and would be all giddy fumbling with the hem of your cardigan. When you'd sob his head would perk up like a pup and he'd wipe your tears only for you to ask, "Wait. How did you write such a sad breakup song? We had our fights but they weren't thatttt serious." Then he'd just slip under duvet to hide and you'd throw it away slithering up his chest to suffocate him. "Harry!!! You bitch I'll kill you!!" He'd just laugh out loud trying to cup your cheeks and kiss you.

Would drag you late nights to have ice-cream parlour visits.

When he'd get sick would make you stay with him in bed all day. Follow you to kitchen wrapped in blankets and when you'd scold would slump. Look so cute with those teary eyes it's hard to ignore him.

Would give you mischievous glare and dimpled smile while writing from Mr and Mrs Styles on presents or something to gift.

He could be very messy and dirty sometimes. You'd throw his soggy socks at his face from the floor and he'd just dodge them with a snarky retort.

You guys would gossip with eachother while watching telly. He'd have imaginary feuds with your rude co-workers and would snap his finger while chewing on pringles in a loud voice, "Brent and Vroe are fucking. Mark my words."

When you'd scream "Harry Styles I hate you!" He'd just grin from far smacking a flying kiss. "Too bad darlin' ye're stuck with your enemy."

He'd try to be the best husband for you because when Harry loves someone he loves with each drop of his blood.

When you'd be away from home for sometime and come back to surprise him finding your house a cluster fuck he'd be like "don't be mad. I know I'm too lazy and it's a bummer.'

On the wedding anniversary he'd try to be the most romantic. Making you count each day to the amount you'd get annoyed.

Would have a tattoo for you inked on himself.

While trying to have a baby he'd be the filthiest. Would keep your legs raised and when you'd whine would sush with you kisses.

Fuck you in every corner of the house to claim you his's with marks and love bites, "do you think we did this time?" He'd huff face hidden in the crook of your neck.

Make brekkies and have dances when the vinyl is on low hum.

Would take you to Taylor Swift's concerts knowing how much you love her. Have a blast and would give you a piggie ride when it ends.

He'd look sick from anxiousness while taking pregnancy test and when it comes out positive would shrink like a shrimp and sob out loud instead of hugging you. You'd just roll your eyes laying beside him taking his face and making him look at him, "We're pregnant." His nose red and cheeks stained. "We are." You'd grin kissing him.

Next morning you'd be treated with delcious brekkie, a nice sloppy morning sex, in the shower too and a bouquet of flower with a note "To the mother of my baby."

He'd record everything on his camera roll. Each day. Your routine. Your bump. With his side cheeky commentary, "Hi me lil bunny look you're growing. Can't wait to have you in me arms. Mama's glowin'."

Would take maternity break for himself to be with you through these months.

Would gobble junk with you knowing you'd be guilty afterwards.

Would massage your feet before sleeping, fill hot water bottles, and have a whole night stand's cupboard full of your night cravings.

"How Chelsea sounds?" He'd quip from behind the baby names book, "I can't tell if you're serious." You'd blink and when his expressions remains same you'd cry. "Harry you love Chelsea boots so much doesn't mean you could name your child that!!" Then it turns into a long lecture. "Yeah, can't wait for our baby boy to be named Tom Ford cause his daddy's favourite perfume–" But he shut you up with a soft kiss and murmurs to relax.

He'd have his babies feet imprints inked on his bicep. (Sobs he'd be that kind of a dad)

Would be stoic on his descion to build all of his baby's furniture himself.

Would come up with creative ideas for baby shower.

When doctors would call him to cut the cord he'd be shivering and would probably knock his knees at the sight.

He'd be dressing up his kids in matching outfits as him. It would be super cute!!

You'd complain that he bribes his kids to drift to his side but he'd just make sure to let you know how lucky he's to have you. The person who gives him reason to live every day and his anchor.

He probably would be an embarrassing dad.

His daughter's friend's would tell her how hot he's and she'd tell him as a gossip.

He'd tease his son if he'd catch him masturbating on accident, "No worries buddy we all do it."

Ok this's the only I could think of right now. Feel free to add more with reblogs !!!! Wanna hear all of yours cause I'm bored lol.

[gryffindors-weasley]

Wild Hearts

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: You and Ron go for a ride in his fathers car one summer night.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none—fluff and kissing, light swearing

A/N: This is inspired by the song Stargazing by The Neighbourhood! It is also a continuation from a part of one of my fics here

It was the start of summer, your second summer spent at the Burrow since you and Ron had moved into a place of your own. To have not only one home but two was a dream in and of itself; twice the comfort and twice the opportunity to be homesick should you stray too far from either for too long. It was a delightfully bittersweet feeling, but you wouldn’t trade what you’ve got for the world. The Weasley family had always been welcoming, radiating the utmost of warmth and boisterous energy, but the same could not be said of that chaos when night rolled around. It was strikingly quiet.

You lay there in the small bed once belonging to Ron throughout his childhood, crammed for space as you lay pressed against his side like you had been for the better part of an hour. It felt as though just one wrong move from either of you and one of you would be sent toppling to the floor; it has happened before. The two of you stared restlessly at the slanted wooden ceiling, the moonlight shining in the window illuminating the little bits of dust being pushed around by the breeze coming in through the cracks in the walls. If you tried hard enough, you were so bored you just might have been able to count them.

It was impossibly quiet save for the chirping of the crickets outside and the occasional myriad of chimes when the clocks around the home struck a new hour. A new hour of doing anything but sleep. The different pitches of unsynchronized clocks signaling it was only one o’clock in the morning had been taunting you. Ron had made a few attempts to sleep, he even snored for a span of ten or so minutes, but ultimately he was left to lay awake just as you had been. Your minds were far too busy and had yet to slow down with the chaos of the family game night just hours earlier.

A huff puffed up your cheeks and left your lips while your fingers tapped absentmindedly, your hands clasped and rested in your stomach. His own sigh was soon to follow, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth in an attempt to fill the quiet of the room. As if on cue, you turn your head to the left as he turns his to the right, and you share a mirrored look as you bite the inside of your cheek. No words needed to be spoken, rarely did they ever at this point in your relationship. You knew each far too well by just a simple look.

“Wanna go for a drive?” He asks after a moment, the tip of his nose nearly bumping yours in the crowded and close proximity.

Your smile forms at the mere mention of the idea, widening more so when he matched your grin with one of his own. You laugh softly as you look up at the ceiling once more for a brief moment before returning your gaze to him, your giggling never ceasing. “You mean in the car you’ve been forbidden to use for the rest of life?”

His smile is lopsided as he tries to look at you in discontent at your question, moving to prop himself on his elbow. “That was twelve years ago,” he squints as he defends himself, “besides, I didn’t do half bad.”

“Half bad? I suppose I should ask the whomping willow. Or perhaps I could just use my memory,” you retort with a scoff and he throws his head back, heaps of ginger hair flopping out of his face momentarily. He groans, smiling nonetheless. He knows you’ll never stop teasing him about it for as long as he presents you with an opportunity.

“For old times sake?” He asks after a little while longer, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile once he brings himself to look at you. You laugh softly at him, his hair falling back around his face once more. You pretended to ponder the offer just to get on his nerves in playful mocking.

“As if I could say no to anything to rescue me from my boredom,” you beam as you kiss his nose, quick to get up from the squeaky mattress in search of your shoes.

He follows suit as he slips on his jeans, nearly tripping over his own feet as he snags his converse from under the bed. He grabs his tattered denim jacket from the back of the chair at his desk, knowing full well you’d need it.

The trip to the very first floor was not an easy feat. Not with the creaky old stairs working against you, not with the giggles you could barely seem to stifle, certainly not with the miscellaneous shoe on a step Ron hadn’t seen. It was sent tumbling down each and every step with a near painful sound that had you narrowing your eyes at him as he shrugged. Regardless of the utter clumsiness you managed to make it without waking the large family.

Ron stood in place for a moment as you looked at him quizzically and waited, watching as he shrugged on his jacket and wandered to the uneven countertop in the kitchen. He steps on the very end of a loose board and you start to smile as the other end pops up, a set of glimmering keys snatched from its spot. He turns to face you with a proud smile.

“Perhaps my mum should’ve picked a new spot,” he chuckles, spinning the keys around his finger.

You respond with an eye roll when you grab his hand, tugging him out of the door in hushed laughter. The fresh air and breeze was much better than the stuffy confines of his room at the highest point of the house, and you found yourself even more excited for the spontaneity of your plans. Even on your rush he still stopped to open your door, an action not having gone unnoticed by you as you smiled brightly at him.

“Are you sure you know how to fly this thing? You never quite seem to stick the landing,” you quip once he joins you, looking over at Ron with a half smirk, one that widened with the sheer look of offense crossing his face.

“Yes, I very well do, love,” he scoffs as if it’s the most obvious thing to know, not without grumbling under his breath either. “You try flying a car when you’re twelve.”

You laugh to yourself and shake your head, and when you turn to look at him once more, he’s already looking at you fondly despite his counter. It’s a fleeting moment of love not needing to be spoken, only heightening when he leans over the center console to kiss you once more. He nearly winces when he turns the key in the ignition, the headlights flickering on and the engine roaring to life with a certain rumble that had been telling of the car’s age. His father could no longer ground him for this, but his mother would not hesitate to scold him till the end of time if she knew just what he’d been doing.

Without much of a second thought he put the car in drive and set off down the path, tires spinning quickly down the old dirt driveway and leaving behind a cloud of dust in its wake. Surely they must have heard the tires squeal.

When you reach the end he lifts above ground in a not-smooth-takeoff, but you were far too caught up in the familiar rush, rolling the windows down. The summer air pulsed through the car in waves as he lifted above the treeline, seemingly one with the stars still far from you. You looked to each other briefly with the same beaming smiles, your laughter mingling in the space and filtering out into the night air. Everything felt weightless as you soared along, the wind blowing warmly through your hair as you stuck your arm out the window. There was no need to be hushed, no need to refrain from the giddy cheers and comical howls at the moon.

In that very moment, nothing else mattered. Not the imminent scolding of his mother, not the work you had to do when you returned to your own home, not the repercussions of a night having gone unslept. What mattered was the memory you were living, the way Ron let loose and felt free as he hollered at the moon, the way your heart raced with utter happiness. That’s what mattered.

He knows you’ll always have a hold on his heart, you have since the day he met you and he knows it’ll never change, not that he wants it to. You’re everything wonderful the world has to offer wrapped up in one person, and he doesn’t quite know how it’s possible. He’s enamored, that he did know. He’s enchanted and far beyond spellbound, feeling more than lucky that you chose to love him of all others in the universe. It was him you loved with the utmost of certainty, the sincerest of loves. It was him.

You passed over rolling hills and thriving trees, Ron’s hand in yours in wordless protection as you moved to look out the open window. That’s when he found himself staring when he knew he shouldn’t be. Staring at the way the moonlight danced across your skin and glimmered in your hair to the point that you looked ethereal. At the way you laughed joyously and freely, eyes closed as the ever-flowing breeze swirled through your hair. At the smile gracing your lips he so desperately wanted to kiss. It was his gawking that nearly made him swooped too low and scrape the front end on a hill, his heart thumping wildly as the two of you shared a fleeting look of surprise before laughing.

He knows that is but another thing you’d make sure to never let him forget, at least not for a long while. But how was he to help his distracted attention when you capture it so easily? When you steal it with no effort at all? The answer still remained to be seen.

—

The strikingly memorable clearing soon made its appearance, Ron releasing your hand to slow the car and dip to a landing. A very expectedly rocky landing he knew he’d be hearing about.

You parked in the grass, giddy and breathless as you pushed open the door and rushed out without care to close it. The night sky was vast and clear, not a cloud in sight as it sat littered with twinkling stars while you looked up at it with outstretched arms. Ron was quick to follow, not bothering to close the door either as he trails close behind. But rather than focusing his attention on the sky, he finds he’s much more content focusing on you. It was then that he enveloped you in his embrace and it was then that your gaze pulled from above you and moved to the beaming smile belonging to your blushing redhead. You grin brightly as he twirls you in his arms, hold never faltering as you rest your forehead on his, his nose brushing against yours.

“I love you,” he laughs, still jittery from the thrill of the ride. “Bloody hell I love you.”

Before you have a chance to respond, his lips are on yours, soft and tender as his hand settles on your cheek. Your quieted laughter seeps into his kiss, your fingers gripping the striped fabric of his t-shirt. He kissed you with every bit of love he had to give, cheeks flushing what was surely the same shade of his hair. You hadn’t wanted to part from him, didn’t ever want to but he’d gone and kissed you breathless, more than you already had been.

You cheeks burned a dull heat when you pulled away, lips still brushing against one another as you exhaled a breathy laugh, sharing an adoring smile. You couldn’t help but kiss him once more—twice more. It left his heart bounding within his chest, left him feeling as though this was the first time kissing you. But he was starting to think that every time felt like the first time.

The softness of his smile spoke volumes as he looked at you, leaning to rest his forehead on yours again.

“I love you,” you murmur, and his hands drop down to squeeze your own.

The moment lasted all too briefly as you pulled him with you, but he found he’d follow you just anywhere so the thought hadn’t bothered him too much. The two of you sat on the old blue hood, backs pressed to the windshield as a breathy laugh leaves your lips. Surely his muddy converse would leave his ever distinctive shoe prints that he’d forget to clean off, and surely Molly would scold him all the next morning for it. But that could wait for now. Everything else could wait.

“You’re a bad influence, you know,” he chuckles, his hand falling to his side to grab a hold of yours.

“And you’re a bad driver,” you counter, turning your head to the right to meet his already narrowed gaze.

It softened within seconds, however, a gentle smile on his lips as he allowed himself to stare. He didn’t care that his hair was poking in his eyes, or that laying on the hood of a car was ridiculously uncomfortable. He didn’t care that it was a tad too warm for a jean jacket or that his cheeks still burned from nearly wrecking his dad’s car again. When he looked at you it didn’t matter.

Without hesitation he rolled to his side, his grip on your hand never faltering as he leaned in and kissed you again. Soft and sweet, tender and loving. When you parted he stayed mere centimeters from your lips, nose bumping yours as his smile when unseen but his laughter obvious against your lips. With one more kiss he rolls back over, grinning like the lovestruck fool he knew himself to be. He was always your lovestruck fool.

In that moment everything settles around you. The laughter quieted, your pounding hearts calmed. It was serene in the way the breeze blew over you in such a way he rid himself of his jacket to give to you before finding your hand again. Peaceful in the way the crickets sang and the lightning bugs fluttered all around you. The sky seemed too breathtaking for its own good, vast and endless and full of sparkling beauty.

You hadn’t done this—you hadn’t been here since you were seventeen. Though being twenty-four hadn’t felt much different. You were still hopelessly in love just as much as you always had been.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He starts.

“The moon.”

You finish a sentence you knew all too well. The look he gives you is priceless and precious all the same and you can’t help but smile.

“What?”

“I’m beginning to think you’re just as sappy as that love potion made you be,” You jest, and he chuckles as he looks above him, quiet for a short while.

“I can’t believe Harry told you that bit,” he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m glad he did,” you say softly, and he turns head and looks at you then.

Your eyelids had grown heavy as the late hour had started to catch up with you, your smile small yet loving as you blinked at him slowly. He released your hand in favor of pulling you close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, then one to your nose.

“Me too,” he murmured.

He knew it was only a matter of time before the two of you fell asleep. He knew he’d come home to his parents waiting for him with crossed arms and worried expressions soon turned angry. He knew it all but couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment.

Your hearts were too wild and you were far too in love to let this pass you by.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @anchoeritic @harrysweasleys @hahee154hq @amourtentiaa @snitches-at-dawn @awritingtree @lupinsclassroom @dracosathenaeum @writeroutoftime

[angelisverba]

come out, come out wherever you are

in which y/n agrees to do something really stupid, and harry is a bit of a shit

word count: 5k

pairing: vampire!h and y/n (different au from my other vamp!h fics, though)

warnings: drug use, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of blood (duh, he’s a vampire). 

author’s note: okay so i know that i put vampire!h in the pairing, but this h is a wierd succubus x demon x vampire mix where he can feed off the emotions he wants to?? i’ll explain it in the story. enjoy your reading :)

She shouldn’t have agreed to play hide and seek in a cornfield.

At night.

During a full moon. 

On Halloween.

Y/n’s logic always disappeared when she was… under the influence. Whether that be with alcohol or other sorts of… fun substances. That was not to say that she was an alcoholic, or a drug addict, she just… hated to be a party popper. When her roommate invited her to college parties, she didn’t say no to the red solo cup because she knew that some way or another, she would end up giving in by the end of the night. Or when it was just her and her closest friends passing around  a freshly rolled joint, she didn’t say no because she didn’t want to be the odd one out.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that she enjoyed it… most of the time. 

This? This was not one of those times.

*    *    *    *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Josephine, her roommate, had barged into her room with a smile over her lips as the brightness of her phone lit up her face from the bottom up, casting spooky shadows since y/n’s room was dark and she was falling asleep. 

“Y/n, look!” She said, turning the phone so beams that felt like they came from hell illuminated y/n’s pinched face, marks from her pillow decorating the place above her lip. She mumbled something, and Josephine kept speaking, “Travis just sent me an invitation to one of the frat’s Halloween parties! Come with me, it’s gonna be so much fun!”

And to get her to leave her room, she agreed. She must have, because the next morning as she was getting ready for her 10 a.m. literature class, she was bombarded with a series of costume ideas and questions about what was considered cheesy or overdone. Josephine had made it clear that it was okay that they didn’t match, especially because of their differences in clothing choices. Jo was more risqué, and y/n liked to dress in what she felt comfortable in. 

It didn’t take her a long time to figure out what she was going to go as for Halloween. That same morning, just before she walked into class, y/n stopped to stare at a framed art print in the hallway. 

La Belle Dame sans Merci by John Keats was a poem that she knew by heart, and the painting was one that she could get lost in for hours. Stopping to stare at it before walking into class was not an unusual occurrence for her, but that time an idea came to her, almost like it was written in the long locks of her red hair. 

Y/n would go as a Victorian princess. The dresses had always fascinated her, with the intricate lace details and elegant rippled of muslin fabric that flounced in a puff around the hips of Countess, or trailed behind the average cottage girl as she frolicked in fields full of daisies. She could picture it in her mind, and it made her giddy to know that there was a possibility she could look as pretty as one of the poet’s muses. She spent the entirety of the class switching from writing notes to browsing the five pages worth of gowns on Amazon, looking for something pretty yet within her price range. 

By the end of the period she’d had what she wanted in her cart. A baby-blue wisp of a dress with intricate lace detailing at the neckline that curved like the top-hald of a heart to cup her breasts. The sleeves bunched around her arms mid-bicep, and scrunched again around her wrists, the transparent fabric looking as if her arms were wrapped in the sky. Built in ribbing created a corset that added an extra curve to her waist to make way for the heaps of fabric that exploded from her hips and cascaded down to the floor like the foaming spray of a waterfall. 

It fit like a dream. When it arrived a few days before the party she dropped everything she was doing to try it on. The moment Josephine patted her shoulder to tell her that she was finished zipping up the back, y/n twirled around in the limited space of their dorm room to see herself in the narrow mirror at the end of her bed. 

Every penny she had spent on it was worth it. Sure, it was snug around the bust and refrained her lungs from expanding the extra millimeter they needed, but it made her feel… nice. Pretty. She liked the way it cinched her waist, how her wrists looked dainty covered in the lacy ends of the sleeves, and the way her breasts looked… accentuated by the frilly detail. 

Jo had squealed once she had a full look at her friend, and wouldn’t stop talking about how good they were going to look walking in together. She was going as Cat-Woman, complete with the latex suit, boots, mask, and all. She looked every bit as fantastic as y/n, only on opposite ends of the Halloween costume spectrum. 

Building up to the day of the party, the pair talked make-up and hair details, both of which Josephine would be taking care of because she was better at them. At one point, y/n thinks she even dreamt about making a grand-entrance, boys and girls gawking at how amazing she looked, and the most handsome guy stepping forth to profess his undying love for her. 

Which wasn't really how it went the night of, but she attained the same satisfaction. 

The party was located a little ways away from the city, at a plantation-style frat house in-front of a huge cornfield. Carved pumpkins with candles illuminating them from the inside out lined the pathway up to the front-doors, the trees nearby created crunchy pathways of orange and yellow leaves, and the moon was out; yawning tiredly, but glowing an eerie yellow color over the scene. 

It looked like the opening scene of a horror film. 

Y/n did receive a lot of stares, though. Most of them were from guys whose beady little eyes pointed straight to her chest, and the ones she got from girls were on the nastier side of envy. She could tell. But, oddly enough, she liked the attention. 

Josephine y/n’s hand and led her through the mass of costumed-bodies. There was a variety of ‘sexy’ professions (the usual: nurses, cops, cowgirls, and school girls) and those that come from fandoms (Hogwarts’s students, Eleven from Stranger Things, Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction, multiple heroes from the Avengers) or those that came for shits and giggles (T-rex blow-up costumes with tiny hands, Joe Exotic, sumo-wrestlers, those things that sway outside car-dealerships, and even a Trojan condom packet). There was a lot to see, and honestly, it was beginning to overwhelm y/n.

Not only was it slightly disorienting to see everyone disguised, the interior itself was something to look at. Chandeliers and velvet sofas, gold lamps and fancy carpets and curtains. The epitome of privilege. She felt trampled, every once a while there was a tug on the ends of her dress. 

“How about a shot to start off the night, y/n?” Josephine asked her, hooking a latex coated arm around hers. The music was a rumble on the backs of their heads, shaking them through and through as some nameless rapper sang of drugs, sex, and money. What it always came down to. 

She agreed, and took the plastic shot cup. On normal nights, she would’ve usually required some type of coaxing, but not then. Y/n was almost looking for the hangover the next morning. She wanted fun. 

Three shots later and her fingers were dragging in front of her face. Her knees were wobbly and cheeks tinged with spirits. Everything was funny and if you asked her what two plus two was she’d tell you five. There was a new swagger in her step, and some might say that was the influenced hand-eye coordination, but to her it was newfound confidence. She felt good, she looked good, and she was having a damn good time. Laughing, making the best conversation she’d ever made, and when Jo suggested they go dance, she danced the best she’d ever had.

And sure, she was drunk out of her mind. A light weight. Everything was under a glamourized rose filter. It only made sense that the crowd parted like the Red Sea at God’s feet. 

Y/n’s lungs stopped working the moment her eyes locked with his. 

He was her counterpart. Literally. 

Dressed in a navy blue Victorian prince’s suit decked in gold trim and gold medals pinned to the breast. The tan pants that hugged his muscular thighs like they were made just for him, and his hair was slicked back. Jaw a sharp, smug line that worked as he popped a piece of pink bubblegum between his molars. A gleam of appreciation sparking in the forest of his eyes as they raked a path on her figure.  

It was like the work around them stopped, put on pause by some higher power so they could relish the moment of their discovery. What was that shit called? Divine Intervention? The millisecond before and after and between the time Eve’s teeth sunk into the taught skin of that forbidden red apple, and the snake’s tongue slithered out to see her. He was a stranger to y/n, but it seemed as if the feeling he stirred deep in the core of her being was one she’d always known, one from a past life. Besides her, Jo stopped doing whatever lucrative dance she was doing to see what had caught her friend’s attention. Y/n stood, tongue dry, feet glued to the ground as the handsome stranger approached her, a clear path in front of him. 

Then, he takes one step  forward and whatever conversation he had been involved with before was no longer of importance. Besides her, Jo stopped doing whatever lucrative dance she was doing to see what had caught her friend’s attention. Y/n stood, tongue dry, feet glued to the ground as the handsome stranger approached her, a clear path in front of him. 

“Oh,” Jo huffed in her ear, “he’s hot.”

“I-Is he?...” Y/n’s question died on her tongue.

“Coming right for you, girl. Good luck,” Jo pressed a kiss to her cheek and disappeared in the crowd. 

The stranger stops closer than she would have thought him to; a finger away from her nose, and when he spoke, she could feel the vibrations of his speech through her breasts where they nearly grazed his chest. 

“I don’t believe we’ve ever met before... princess?” His voice is deep, raspy and filled with grooves like the bark on a tree. He mocks a bow (given their costumes) and their nose touch before he straightens again. Up close, y/n can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, and she hopes her mouth doesn’t stink (it probably does, given the alcohol she’d had). A chilled palm grips her bicep, and the fabric of her sleeve sinks under his touch, “Would you like to get off this shitty dance floor and speak somewhere else?” He asks her. 

Her heart is pounding and she wonders if he can hear it because she certainly can, rushing in a taunting, roaring stream past her eardrums. Y/n nodded her agreement; yes, she did want to speak with him. A thrum of warmth comes from where he holds her, and he tugs her so that she’s standing in front of him, her back touching his chest as he pushes her through the crowd. 

Her fingers shake as she lifts the fabric of her dress to avoid tripping, and her saliva goes thick. Not because of what might happen, but because the man who ripped her bicep tenderly, like she was made of the most fragile china, was the most good-looking man she had ever seen. Her mind ran images of things to compare him to, and almost all of them were of the Greek statues put up in museums for all to admire. 

He leads her past the crowd and the kitchen where everyone was making drinks, past the wrap around stairs on the inside of the house, and even past the calmer sitting areas where couples were making out or groups of friends passed a smoking joint. He leads her right through the open back doors of the house so they faced the seemingly endless cornfield and the barn that was a speck behind it. The deck was less populated than the couches where kids smoked weed, but y/n guessed that it wasn’t to his liking because instead of turning off to the side so they could have a much less strained… conversation, he continued to walk- this time standing beside her instead of behind her. 

Grass crunched under their feet as they got closer to the stalks of corn. Confused, y/n spared a glance to what she was leaving, and then to him. He stared straight ahead, but she caught his eyes flickering in her direction, and a smirk quirking cockily on his lips before they returned to the yawning face of the moon. 

There was a short wooden fence separating the house from the cornfield that reached her hip, and he stopped there. 

“Finally,” he sighed, “Some peace and quiet.” He makes a gesture to the fence, and pops his gum. 

Dizzied, the tequila still in her head, she watches his tongue gather the gum back into his mouth, his lips shining with his own spit. Y/n doesn’t register that the movement towards the fence was his way of telling her to take a seat on the wooden bars. 

“C’mere,” he murmured. Placing his hands on her waist, he lifted her up so she could sit on the wooden fence, and her hands went to his wrists instinctively, trying to keep herself steady. 

Suddenly out of breath, her eyes shot straight up to his. There’s no way he can’t hear my heart right now, she thinks. He’s so close to her, his breath on her face. He smelled like pink bubblegum, cologne, and a liquor much more sophisticated than what she had to drink. His eyes held the same spell that she felt she was under. 

“What’s your name?” He asked, his hands still on her waist. He didn’t look like he was in a rush to step away from her, and that was okay because she didn’t want him to. 

“Y/n,” she whispered. It was physically impossible to raise her voice any louder. The stupid corset was making it harder for her to breathe, along with the added pressure of being in his presence. “You?”

“Prince Harry, at your service,” he smiled then, and y/n got a glimpse of shockingly sharp canines. They had to be fake. Longer than most in length, and she swore she saw one of those cartoonish-diamond glitter at the knife-like tips of his teeth. 

She pointed to his mouth and said, “Are you a vampire prince?”

He looked at her strangely, his brows furrowing and his tongue running along the inside of his cheeks. Then, he laughed. “Something like that.” 

“I-” She was gonna say something along the lines of ‘I think you’re a very good looking vampire prince’ until he cut her off.

“How about we play a game?” One of his hands lifted from her waist, and she let go to steady herself by grabbing onto the plant. Y/n hoped that her dress wasn’t getting dirty, but the moment that Harry brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear it flew out the window. 

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned into his touch like a purring kitten. She blamed her blatant carelessness on the alcohol. “A game?”

“Yes, y/n. A game,” he muttered, watching the way her eyes twitched under her eyelids. 

“Which game?” Her eyes fluttered open again, and her breasts pushed against the corset as she took a deep breath, “I thought you wanted to talk?”

“Oh,”he glanced down, to her lips and for half a second, to the repressed mounds of her tits,  “I promise the conversation is going to be much more interesting after a game of hide and seek.” 

“Where would we even play t-that?”

“Right,” he pinched her chin with two fingers so that her lips smushed together, and gently tilted her head towards the field of corn. “There.” 

That’s how she found herself, running for her life in the middle of a corn maze, at night, on Halloween. 

What had started off as her giggling and running had soon into a panting, scared-shit-less run for no reason. Maybe it was because she just couldn’t get Harry off of her tail, or maybe it was that she was running with no direction into a cornfield she was sure was lost in. Maybe it was a combination of all those things. 

Harry yelled, “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” and it only made her want to cry. 

It was strange, really. Y/n didn’t know where this fear was coming from, it started out with them actually having fun, the tips of his fingers tugging at the fabric of the skirt before he let her run a bit, calling out how he was going to get her, how he was gonna catch the princess and she was giggling, turning to see him disappear when she turned. 

Then he went quiet. The footsteps stopped. And his tone of voice dropped to something much more… sinister. 

“Come out, little one,” he said, a clear whisper poured directly into her ear. 

Y/n turned, and she felt him getting closer so she tried to run faster. But she was getting so, so tired, and it felt like she couldn’t get any air into her lungs. All she knew then was the moon, with her tired face, and the intimidating, tall stalks of corn. 

Harry supposes that he’s doing her a favor. A lot of people wish they could run through a field wearing a dress like the one y/n has on. He was a bit of a shit, sure, setting her up for failure given he had abilities that she did not possess, but, he knew just as he knew the sky is blue- that she liked and wanted to walk into the corn field. Now, it wasn’t because Harry happens to be really good at reading people, no.

As an empath- one of the terms in the fine print of the being he was- he was able to connect into the funnel between her veins, the curved out thrum of what she was feeling. The witches he knew compared it to reading an aura, but it was much more than that. There was no need for interpretation of colors because it was like he was her, feeling what she was feeling. And she liked it.

Up until, of course, he switched up his game. 

After a few minutes of running around and playing with her like she was a mouse, Harry decided that he wanted to scare her. He wanted to give her a taste of himself. He wanted her to be scared- to not like him. Because he was something that shouldn’t be liked. It was a sick thing, really, that he happened to be so good looking when he was a literal monster. Harry fucking drank human blood. He wasn’t something that should be thought of as Greek statues. 

The part of him that remained human throughout the years felt bad for doing this to her. But, he had to. It made him feel better when he sunk his teeth into a victim’s skin. Almost like… he’d warned them, and it was their fault that they hadn’t taken the signal.

A scarecrow loomed overhead, and her lungs were running out of air, so he decided to go ahead and make his final jump on her. 

When y/n broke through the final turn to reach the very small clearing in the center of the field where a scarecrow stood in between a few bales of hay, she felt his breath at the back of her throat, and her knees buckled. 

She’d never really been much a screamer during a jump scare. Instead, she sucked her breath in, really loud and sudden, and because she was having such a hard time breathing, that instinctually breath caused black dots to litter her vision and suddenly those weak knees contributed to a faint. 

Harry caught her, and picked her up, huffing a small laugh to himself as he laid her across the piles of hay. 

She really was a sight to see. Flushed, hair a mess from all her running. Her lips were dewy and her waterline was agitated, he could see the moisture in the place where her eyelashes sprouted. 

With a few pats to the cheek, her eyes fluttered open, he was still hovering over her. Harry did not make a move to scoot back. 

“You’re awake, princess,” he said, smirking.

Y/n blinked, her eyes wide, and… gasped when Harry pressed a kiss to her cheek. His lips were cool against her heated cheek, and the curved ends of his slicked back hair tickled her chin. 

“You chased me,” she gulped, “for a long time.”

“Yes, I did. And you liked it. Didn’t you, little one?” He allowed the tip of his nose to follow the line of her jaw, testing the waters. She liked it, he could feel the shudders it sent to her heart in his bones. 

“I did.” Her eyes furrowed at her own admission. Why was she being so carefree? Why was she allowing herself to continue to stay in this cornfield? What was stopping her from questioning further what the fuck was going on? Her attraction, and his implied interest, that’s what.

Harry’s tongue slipped out of his mouth, and licked at her jaw before he placed another kiss to it, “Good. What do you say we have some more fun?” “What kind of fun?” Her head titled, and he was given direct access to what he wanted. Her neck. The column of her throat was pulsing with the beat of her heart, and the veins he could almost taste criss-crossed beneath her skin. 

“Fun is fun, pet. But if you must know, the kind of fun I’m talking about involves a lot of mouth to mouth,” He moved so his face was directly in front of hers again, and his palm gripped her waist beneath him. Unconscioslu, her legs parted and Harry had more space to slide both of his thighs between hers, one of his knees resting on the bales of hay she rested on. 

Y/n was no longer worried about the state of her dress, but rather, where his mouth would land, and where she would put her hands. Her eyes bounced between his, but they struggled to remain still under his intense hold. “O-okay. I’d like that.” 

“The prettiest princess I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled into the hollow underneath her jaw. And it was true. He’d seen a lot of royalty all throughout his wretched life, and none of them had been as pretty as she was. He felt a shiver of arousal go through her at the same time the air came fresh into his lungs, and it felt like he was going to explode from the inside out. 

“I think you’re the most handsome prince I’ve ever seen.” 

Y/n wanted to slap a hand over her mouth the moment those words left her lips, but Harry only chuckled and the vibrations felt heavenly against her skin. 

“You've been seeing other princes’, little one?” Harry teased, his mouth tracing their words against her lips. He pressed forward and kissed her; just a peck, testing. Again, she liked it. 

“No, just you,” she shivered. Her words were coming out in pants now. The fabri of her dress was too thick and too abundant to allow for any frisky actions, but his mouth was enough. One of his fingers was running over the tops of her breasts. Her mouth opened, she wanted more. Harry tasted of pink bubble gum. She wondered where it went. 

He chuckled and kissed her once more. “Then how do you know you know I’m the most handsome?” 

“I just do,” she said, arching into his touch. His finger was hooking into her sleeve, and he let it snap into her skin. 

“You do?” He licked her bottom hip, and she whined. This game, whatever it was, she wanted it to be over. It was too much for her to handle. 

“Yeah,” y/n said in a dreamy, far-off voice. “I mean, yes. Yes.”

Harry relished in what she felt, and soon enough, his cock twitched in his trousers. He never let himself become… involved in his meals emotions, but it was different with her. She was tender, and sweet. Willing and not a nuisance that he drowned out before biting. 

“Am I handsome enough... for you to let me bite you?” And that was another thing. 

Harry never asked for permission. Y/n was drunk enough that she’d wake up the next morning and think that he was just some kinky dude who’d left a sick hickey on her throat, as all of his ‘victims’ were, but still. Harry had asked for permission. 

“Bite me?” She was confused, head fuzzy with the same feeling that was heating in her groin. The lacy knickers she wore were probably soaked through. The bale on her bum was beginning to hurt. 

“Yes, princess. Bite, right,” he licked a stripe right where her pulse was the strongest to accentuate his intentions. “Here.”

“Okay, Harry.” 

He was handsome. And she was horny (with a mix of other things), she didn’t see a reason to say no. 

“Thank you, pet.” 

It was the same as it always was. Harry nuzzled into the spot, sniffing like a dog meeting a new friend, and with no preamble, he bit into her. The tips of his teeth pierced her flesh, and he allowed them to retract once the blood started to flow. When the first drop touched his tongue, he groaned. She was good, one of the best he’d ever had, and the heady flavor was just as sweet as she was. He was so caught up in his own satisfaction that he didn’t notice the moment her hands bunched the fabric of his suit from the late 1700s into fists, or her body going tense before he slowly relaxed, her heartbeat an irregular mix as she decided whether or not she should be panicking. 

But, he knew that she continued to enjoy what she was doing. 

“H-harry, I-”  She went limp in his arms, and the small squeak that left her mouth was the mermaid’s song that enchanted Harry. 

He knew this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see her again. 

*     *      *    *    *   *   *   *    *   *   *    *   *    *   *

hi! happy halloween babies! or better yet, happy harryween! i hope you enjoyed this peice, it was for sure out of my comfort zone and something new for me. if you haven’t yet, please check out my fanfic on wattpad in which harry owns a more aesthetic version of playboy mag. you can read it here.

[princessmariaphiliper]

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 5 The Contemplating

Notes: James Acaster, Original characters, No warnings this week just some good innocent fluff. I lied. I mention babestation twice, one day I will write something innocent. 

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader 

Genre: Fluff with eventual smut, Slow Burn fic

Words: 2,439

Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way. 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /  Part 9

The following Sunday morning you awoke to sunrise draping lazily through your cream curtains. Pulling the duvet back you dragged yourself out of bed with a soft stretch. Making your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You looked out your window at the dusty London street. 

It was going to be a pleasant day today. Temperature making its way up to the mid-twenties. So late last night you had decided you would have a day outdoors. You had some writing to do for a project you were planning therefore you’d figured today was as good as any to start. Brushing your teeth idly you started your, now rather frequent, internal dialogue on James. 

Your mind had been running circles since Wednesday evening and the kiss he’d given you on his way out. Part of you kept telling yourself that ‘maybe this was just a way he said goodbye to people’. After all, the two of you hadn’t had a sober goodbye up until that point. Perhaps it was just his formalities. And it wasn’t as if he’d called or even dropped you a text since then to indicate a romantic gesture. But the other half of you could help read between the lines of his subtle touches you could still feel on your skin.

Washing your face and leaving the room you moved to your wardrobe. Pulling out an oversized white tee and dark wash jeans. You began to get dressed. Considering where you might like to go today. After some deliberation you decided on the coffee house beside Camden lock. You sat down at your desk, putting on some concealer, liner and brushing up your eyebrows. You looked into your y/e/c eyes, edging the spoolie in between your fingers and resting your chin in both hands. Letting out a large sigh, the confusion continued.

You’d always considered yourself to know right from wrong. However, your thoughts of James had lately been trivial to that. Although you knew that James wasn’t happy in his relationship, that didn’t mean that his partner wasn’t. This was yet another hurdle of guilt that was blocking you from admitting growing feelings for James. But as much as you blocked it from your mind, you couldn’t block out the way James made you feel. A sense of calm, giddiness and as though you had known him all your life. Yet it had only just been one week since you first met. 

Dropping your hand and sighing you shook the thoughts from your head. Brushing your hair quickly, grabbing your laptop bag and heading out for the day. 

The air was warm, the sun shining down onto the streets as you stepped out from your apartment complex. You inhaled, sucking in the early summer air. It was busy on the streets, as it usually was on a Sunday in London. Many people basking in the final day on their trips before getting the train home. You would always recognise how lucky you were to have the chance to live in such a vibrant city, doing the work that you loved. Trotting with a skip in your step to your local tube station. A smile across your face from your blessing. 

The tube, as always, was muggy and dirty. Passing a burst of carbonated air through every once in a while. But eventually you made it to Camden station and were able to bask in the sunlight once again. You made your way up Camden market, the bright colours above the stylistic storefronts. People weaving past as you pushed through the crowd, heading straight up towards the lock. 

After some time of fighting past bodies you reached the lock, the filthy black bars and open arms of the coffee shop embracing you on arrival. You ordered your usual drink, nestling down onto a free table in the outside seating area. Under a parasol in the corner.

There were lots of people sitting and chatting around you, enjoying the sunshine with each other's company. You people watched for a while, taking pleasure in voyeurism was one of your favourite things to do in the city. It was filled with an array of characters, outside the restraints of the cafe’s fencing. The lining of the lock was littered with people, sitting, eating and drinking casually. There was a young couple beside you, seemingly on a first date, their conversation awkward and laced with anxiety. Reminding you subconsciously of how alone you were. Not only in this moment, but somewhat in day to day life.

Mostly working during the day, you hardly indulged in the thought of spending your time going on dates, let alone falling in love with someone. After your previous relationship you needed time for yourself. To learn, grow and understand who you were as a person. And yet here you were, years down the line having done all these things. Working alone in a coffee shop, surrounded by people in love. You pondered the idea for a moment, staring at the half drafted document on the screen of your laptop before beginning to type.

Comically however, just as you did so, your phone started to buzz from the pocket of your jeans. You reached inside, studying the caller ID before you answered. It was Olive, you pressed it to your ear. 

“Olive” 

“Hi lovely, I just wondered what you’re up to today?”

“Not much, I’m just starting the Eraser project I told you about the other day. I was going to send you the proposal a little later to see if you're on the same page with my thinking”

“Oh, brilliant, I was actually going to ask if you wanted to meet up over coffee to talk about it. I could come by yours in about an hour if that's okay?”

“I’m actually not in at the moment, I’m in Camden, I can meet you somewhere if you like though?” 

“Camden sounds lovely on a day like today. I’ll come down and meet you there!” 

“Alright perfect, I’ll text you the cafe I’m at when you set off?” 

“That's great thank you, I’ll see you soon.” The phone cut out, leaving only the hubbub of people as your background noise. With a smile you began to type once again, grateful for someone to  subside your lonely feeling. 

Olivia arrived about forty five minutes after your initial call, the second call being moments ago when she couldn’t find you in the seating area. She was wearing a jade kimono that had an intricate peacock pattern on top of a black cotton jumpsuit. Paired with embellished sandals as well as multiple chunky bracelets. She gave you a warm smile as you waved at her above the sea of people. 

“Y/n!” she said, making her way over and sitting across from you. A cup of jasmine tea in her hand. 

“Hello lady Olivia,”

“How have you been?” 

“On off, how about you?”

“About the same, grateful for the sunshine!” She exclaimed, raising her hands passionately in the air. 

“So.”

“So” You grinned at one another, excited to be discussing a new creative project. “What are your thoughts”

“I think first of all it should be filled with colour. Hopefully, if all goes well, we’ll be able to set up an open air theatre by the end of summer, just before the kids go back to school. I want flowers and paint and colourful lighting.”

“That sounds amazing, what do you want me to do on the other side of things”

“Well I’d like for you to take a bit more of a writing hat this time around. I think you’re ready for it. I’d like to see what you can create and bounce off of one another that way. I think it’d also be lovely to get a balance between different age perspectives with what were wanting to talk about”

“I’m up for that one hundred percent, I’ll be the old crone you need whenever you need it love” You laughed at her choice of words, not having intended your statement in that way but nonetheless you appreciated her humour. “How long until you’re wanting to book a space for making?” 

“I can get us one by next week if you want?” 

“Yeah that's fine by me.” 

The initial project proposal you’d brought forward was to explore gender and sexuality through growth. With memoirs, dance and music that was reminiscent of your own identity. You’d been brewing on the project for some time now. Unsure of how to put it into the world with its fullest potential. Then, you’d been working with Olivia and watching her grow at a later stage in life, you’d brought back out the project with a new filter. Wanting to go on a journey of creating ‘Eraiser’ along with her. The creative juices were flowing. You were on your third drink of the day, now accompanied with a muffin as your stomach had begun to rumble. You’d been brainstorming stories and concept ideas, bouncing off one another for a while when your phone began pinging on the table. It was a text from James causing you to do a secret giddy dance. The message that came through that read,

Are you in Camden? 

I am, why? 

Initially confused by how he knew your location before an image of you and Olivia from a distance came through. You smiled at the sound of his voice calling out your name above the early afternoon sun. 

“Y/n!”

“James!” You responded, him making his way towards your table. You stood from your chair as he came closer, embracing him in a hug. James was dressed in a pair of yellow canvas shorts and a white tee to match your own. He enclosed his arms around you. Being slightly taller he was able to naturally rest his chin atop of your head. 

“How’ve you been?” He murmured, placing a stealthy half kiss in your hair, before you released one another from the embrace. 

“I’m alright how are you?” 

“Okay thanks, you smell nice by the way” An offhand comment that made your hands curl around your middle finger. 

“This is Olivia, my co-worker. Olive, James”

“Lovely to meet you” James held out a hand to shake Olivia’s. Once again causing you to question his ambition by how he interacted with her in contrast to you. From the handshake to the lack of speaking her name in a sentence as he did with you. You regained your seat as the two chatted.

“You too James. Might you be James from the telly?” 

“Depends what channels you’re into.”

“Babestation?”

“Thats me”

“Have a seat,” She offered as the three of you chuckled, pointing to an empty table behind him. Accepting the invite to the table graciously James grabbed a chair and sat down beside you. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Just having a meeting, enjoying the sunshine.” You squinted up towards the sky. 

“Oh sorry, I’m not interrupting am I?”

“No no,” Olivia spoke with a slightly devilish grin, “We were about finished I think.” 

This was a lie, you had been in the middle of explaining something to her when James had texted you. Knowing the implication behind her smile you rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long story to tell her once James had left. She continued, 

“So where did the two of you meet?” 

“We have a mutual friend, we met last friday for some drinks.” James nodded in agreement, mumbling a, some under his breath with a shake of his head. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Oh you know, getting out of the flat while it's nice out. I’ve been working all week so haven't had a chance to see many people that I don't have to be funny for” 

You felt slightly guilty but somewhat better about the fact that James hadn’t called since Wednesday. Selfishly forgetting he was a busy man, attempting to balance working to please people with a crumbling relationship. Not wanting him to feel lonely or burnt out. “Grab a drink if you like, I don’t mind not laughing at your jokes.” You responded sarcastically, however your intention was somewhat laced with care. James flashed you a kind smile, eyebrows raised in excitement. He placed his hands on the table, squaring his elbows in a half stand. 

“Only if you’re sure, I don't want to impose!” 

“No please join us, Y/n is not as interesting company as a real life pornstar” Olivia joked, causing a ripple of smiles and a light ‘fuck off’ to roll from your tounge. James stood from his seat with a ‘I won't be long’. The two of you watched him disappear into the cafe before Olivia turned to you with a knowing look on her face. You sighed, taking a sip of your drink. 

“So, is he good in bed?” 

“We haven’t had sex,”

“You should, he’s dishy” 

“It's not like that,” You trailed off “He has a girlfriend.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah… but it's complicated apparently”

“How so?” 

You explained as briefly as you could the events of the past week or so. Trying to watch out for how close James was getting towards the front of the line inside. After your word vomit Olivia’s grin was back. 

“So you like him then?” 

“I-” You contemplated, not having audibly admitted your thoughts for him yet. And the idea that you would have to face him in a couple minutes after doing so made you nervous. “It’s confusing.” you settled with. 

“It doesn’t have to be Y/n” 

Silently agreeing, you observed James as he ordered his drink now. Standing gently with one hand in his pocket, the other placed on the counter, his pelvis angled towards the window you were looking in from. Olivia continued, 

“Listen to me. I’m twice your age love, and I know it might sound complicated and terrifying now but you’ll regret the things you didn’t try for when you’re my age. He seems lovely and it's clearly something that you want. You’ve been around him for less than ten minutes and your face has been lit up since he arrived. Even if its short lived its worth a shot, plus, it looks like he's into you”

“You don’t know that” 

“Please, the way he had his hands around you earlier. I was practically gushing” 

James had started making his way back to the two of you now holding an iced tea in his palm. He flashed you a smile as he came through the door. 

“Just think about it.” Olive started again with a wink, “Because if you don’t, I might”

Thank you to all the lovelies who have been following the fic so far. I’ve been posting now every other day just to try get better quality of writing so hopefully yall are coping with that. Let me know any thoughts you have about the fic. I’m also taking James x Reader oneshot requests via DM’s so if you have anything you need desperately to be manifested I’m your gal. 

- Princess Maria :)))))

Taglist @josies-polestar @queensantiagoofthe99 

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, feel free to tell me!

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Ray Stantz

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You first met Ray when you were both still working at the University. You worked down the hall from him and would run into him frequently.

- In the mornings, the two of you would arrive at the same time and he’d open the door for you. You’d make small talk whenever you ended up in the same room or walking in the same direction and he was always willing to lend you something; or a hand, if you needed it. You didn’t know him incredibly well but you did know that he was a sweet guy.

- Ray had a major crush on you. He pretty much fell for you the moment he saw you but his own insecurities kept him from trying to do anything about it. You were smart, gorgeous, and had an amazing personality. What would you want with him?

- It takes him a while to actually ask you out. He keeps going back and forth on whether or not he should, wondering if he’s willing to make a fool of himself just for the off chance that you’ll agree. Peter has a field day with him when he’s in this state, constantly teasing and prodding, urging him to just get it over with and see what you say.

- There was definitely a few instances of him approaching you and/or opening his mouth to say something to you, then quickly shutting it and excusing himself with an apology. It takes him nearly a year to actually go through with it.

- You were just leaving the building and preparing for your walk home when he caught up with you and somewhat shyly asked if you would like to have dinner with him sometime. To his utter shock, you smiled and agreed, and the two of you made plans to meet.

- The two of you went out to a not so fancy restaurant which was perfect for the occasion. He felt like he was walking on clouds the entire night; here he was, with you, and you actually seemed to like him. What were the odds that you would actually like him?

- But regardless of his disbelief over how lucky he was, the two of you had a really great time together and you were happy to see him again the next day at the university.

- The two of you shared your first kiss on your third date. He was walking you home and you were both stood in front of your door, saying goodbye. You were just about to walk inside when you paused, turning around and placing a gentle kiss on his lips before saying goodnight again and closing your door.

- He was frozen in shock for a good minute and a half but you should have seen the smile on his face.

- It wasn’t long before the two of you considered yourselves a couple, and he couldn’t have been happier.

- Ray is a big sweetheart and you can’t convince me otherwise, though I doubt you would even try. You’ll never meet another man who treats you so right.

- He loves Pda, especially when people recognize him in public. He feels particularly cool with you hanging on his arm.

- Quick giddy kisses. 

- He keeps his hand on your lower back whenever you’re standing together, it’s just a habit of his. 

- He likes using nicknames; he thinks they’re cute. He usually just calls you things like honey, sweetheart, and beautiful; he’s somewhat old fashioned in that regard. He wouldn’t even mind you calling him pet names. In fact, he’d probably love it. 

- He’s a strong boy and proud of it! Ask him to hold something! Ask him to open a pickle jar! Ask him to carry you! He’s got it covered! …Although, occasionally he wont be able to open the pickle jar and you might actually show him up when trying it again for yourself. 

- Cheek kisses. He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you in, pressing his lips to your cheek enthusiastically and smiling down at you.

- Stealing his sweaters. They’re big and cozy and he melts every time he sees you wearing them.

- Takeout meals. You order in or pick something up at least once a week.

- He’s not afraid to make a fool out of himself so the two of you always have a great time together, filled with jokes and stupid/ridiculous behavior. He loves being able to make you laugh. 

- Cuddling? Sign him the fuck up! No matter what you’re doing, he’ll find a way to squeeze himself beside you and wrap himself around you in some way. Whenever you’re going to bed, you’ll rest your head on his chest with his arms wrapped around you; …or you’ll just be laying almost completely on top of him. 

- A lot of your dates are going to be interrupted, it just sort of comes with the territory. When something strange is in the neighborhood, he’s the one being called so you just have to be patient and understanding. He always makes it up to you anyway.

- Occasionally, he’ll stop and pick up flowers or a movie you’ve been wanting to see from the rental place on his way home. He likes surprising you with something nice, especially if he was called away when you were supposed to spend time together.

- Becoming close with Egon, Winston and Peter. You see them constantly so it’s sort of hard not to.

- Sticking by his side and cheering him up when the Ghostbusters aren’t too popular anymore. 

- You may or may not be a partial owner of the bookshop. As much as he loves being a Ghostbuster, he can’t deny that he likes running the place with you. 

- He’s always there if you need someone to get you something or somewhere. He’s particularly good at pushing through crowds and coming up with things to say that will make it easier for you to do what you have to do. He also just doesn’t take no for an answer so, ya know. 

- He’s a total pushover when it comes to you. You can always convince him to do something for you.

- Ray looks like he knows how to fix things. He looks and acts like a man I could trust with my things. If my car broke down, his smiling face would be the one I would ask to help me. So, if you need anything fixed around your house, all you have to do is ask. 

- Little traditions. Things like watching a specific show after dinner, going to a certain place every weekend or eating certain things on certain days. 

- He loves hugs, they’re pretty much his favorite thing in the entire world.

- Random playful harassment. He kind of likes to tease you, jokingly making fun of and tickling you. He thinks the way you react is cute and it’s usually after you do or say something to him so technically it’s revenge. 

- Now, I’m not saying that Ray owns action figures or other toys of that nature, but Ray would definitely be the type to own them.... You may or may not have a little shelf full of figures when you move in together. 

- He’s a big fan of going to zoos. You practically know the animals at your local zoo by name from how many times you go to see them. 

- Carnival and amusement park dates. 

- He gets this dopey smile on his face whenever you try to give him a massage or dote on him in anyway. He’s just so overjoyed that you actually like him and care about his wellbeing. He also just loves the feeling of your hands. 

- Ray sort of craves domesticity. Seeing you wearing one of his shirts and cooking breakfast or being there to welcome him home after work or surprising him by doing some chores would literally make him melt. He’s a centimeter away from proposing to you on the spot.

- The two of you are pretty much the epitome of two best friends dating. You have the time of your lives together and are always completely comfortable and happy in each others presences. 

- Walking around New York together. You wind up just wandering around the city a lot, occasionally stopping for food or drinks or whatever comes to mind when you pass a store. 

- He isn’t the most sensitive person to talk to when you’re upset or scared about something but he apologizes when he goes off on a tangent or says the wrong thing. Don’t blame him too much, he’s got a skewed view of what’s considered a problem rather than a good scientific discovery. 

- Ray gets easily excited about a lot of things, he’s sort of like a puppy at times so even though you might not be so amused with a situation, he’ll be incredibly happy. Whenever he notices that you aren’t thrilled, he’ll usually just give you a sheepish smile and a “sorry honey”. 

- Having him randomly show up and borderline embarrass you when something big is found out. Just picture the restaurant scene from the second movie.

- Visiting him at the office. 

- Letting him gush to you about the paranormal and supernatural. 

- Helping him with his research, experiments, and invention. He loves having you around and hearing your input.  

- He’s definitely named something after you, whether it be a theory, project or machine he’s created. It’s cute, in a geeky sort of way. 

- Be prepared to get scared and not just by ghosts. Sometimes Ray will just pop into view out of nowhere, excitedly talking about something he just saw and scaring the living daylights out of you. He doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, did he do something wrong? 

- He works with all things supernatural and paranormal; he’s seen a lot over the years and because of that, he’s gradually gotten more and more protective of you over time. Wouldn’t you if you knew that evil slime once ran wild underneath your girlfriends apartment? 

- He gets particularly miffed when jealous, not livid or angry just …miffed. You know he’s not upset with you but you can tell that something is bothering him. Occasionally, you won’t even have to figure out what because he’ll insult whoever he’s jealous of like he’s talking about the weather. 

- The two of you don’t really fight all too often, you rarely have a reason too, even though your lives are incredibly hectic most of the time. He doesn’t really have one certain way of responding when he’s angry, everything depend on the situation. One day, you’ll bicker, the next, you’ll yell.

- He always feels bad whenever he snaps at you. Almost immediately after he storms out, he’ll get this pang of guilt in his chest and debate on whether or not he should just walk back in and apologize. He usually doesn’t right then; wanting to give you time to yourself, but does come back not very long after and apologizes, admitting he was wrong if he was and asking if things are alright between the two of you.

- He’s always happy to say he loves you, and gosh does he love hearing you say it.

- Your family probably loves him. He’s a guy that’s easy to get along with …and he’s a ghostbuster so he’s got that going for him.

- Ray is sooo ready to have kids and settle down with you, he’s just waiting until he’s in a more stable work environment. He doesn’t need any ghosties lurking in your kids nursery, even if he’s the most equipped to get rid of them.

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

airhorn sounds in your ear as you try to sleep ITS FIC TIME, CHILDREN

His father’s first reaction is, predictably, nervous. They’re sitting in the living room as a family, all sort of hanging out, but doing their own thing. Hoarders is passively playing, Lydia is tucked under the couch with a book and flashlight, Emily is in the corner with her laptop, and BJ and Charles are each sitting on opposite ends of the couch, going through their phones. He gets a very sweet text from Adam, showing that the other teen has put the photo Lydia took of them in a frame, and he grins, and holds the device to his chest, feeling giddy and flustered. His dad notices. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” Charles smiles, and BJ figures this is as good a time as any. “I got a text from my boyfriend.” Charles stares. From her chair in the corner, Emily’s typing slows, and then stops, as her brain catches up with that sentence. His phone pings again, and he looks back down at a message from Barbara, then back to his parents. “And my girlfriend.” Emily closes her computer. Her smile is enormous. “Shut up.” “No, seriously!” he grins back at his mother, and then notes the color Charles is going. “Adam and Barbara?” Emily asks, knowingly, and he nods. “We made it official yesterday. I took em to th’ Smallpox Hospital.” “Awww! That’s so romantic!” “You’re dating?” Charles finally finds words. “Unclench your everything, dad, jeezus.” “It’s just… do you think that’s a good idea?” “I think it’s a great idea,” BJ says, a little defensive. “What, I’m not allowed to date? M’too weird for it?” “That’s not what I meant, BJ,” Charles frowns. But he can tell it kind of is.

“Charles, honey, he’s sixteen. He’s going to date,” Emily says softly, and Charles looks back at her. “But two people at once? And they’re-” “They’re what, Chuck?” “Humans. They’re human, BJ.” “Holy shit, they are? Here I thought they were just really crappy demons.” “I just don’t know if you’ve thought this through. Wouldn’t you be happier dating another demon?” “I don’t know any other demons, dad,” he growls, temper flaring. “Unless you want me to date Sam, an’ look like a total creep, since he’s stuck at like, ten.” “Stop it, BJ.” “You stop it! Just be happy for me!” “I am.. Happy. For you.” BJ sits back, crosses his arms, and scowls. “Got a funny way of showin’ it.” His father stands, and takes to pacing. Christ. “We should lay out ground rules.” “Me an’ Adam an’ Barb did that already.” “No, I mean, house rules,” Charles says, rubbing at his beard. “Things you’re allowed to do, and not. Oh, god, first things first, I’m going to get you a box of condoms.” Betelgeuse feels himself flush, and then Lydia finally pipes up, sticking her head out from under the couch. “Gross.”

“You’re seriously blowin’ this out of proportion. We’ve barely held hands!” “I was a teenager. I remember how things escalate. The last thing we need is someone pregnant. Especially with whatever a human and a demon would make.” “Th’ anti-Christ, maybe,” he says, unhelpfully, and he sees the way his dad’s expression twists into further worry. “It was a joke! Oh my god!”

His mother, bless her, swoops in, just then. “BJ’s just told us good news,” she says, standing, and putting a hand on Charles’ arm, which stops his pacing. “I need you to reassess how you’re making him feel, right now.” Charles looks from his wife to his son. BJ rubs at his nose, embarrassed and upset, and probably purple, and he sees his father make a choice. “BJ, I’m sorry,” Charles comes over, hesitantly reaches down, and Betelgeuse responds by throwing his arms around his dad. Chuck rubs his back. “Tell me about them,” he says, “and I promise to be cool. As cool as I can be, at least.”

That’s at least something. He can tell his dad is still worried, but he does listen, as Betelgeuse describes his two partners. “We spend a lotta time together,” he tells his father. “An’ they’re both goody two shoes. Seriously, they’re borin’, nice people.” “Tell us how you met them, BJ,” Emily smiles. He regales them with the story of Barbara and the flower, and then Adam in the library, and by the time he’s done, he’s back to feeling green, all smiles and excitement and stimming hands. It feels really, really good to not be alone.

Monday comes a day too soon, and he sort of misses the atmosphere of the library, because at lunch, he’s forced to pick up trash, with Honeywell watching him intently from a bench. The only consolation prize to this is the vice principal’s time is also being wasted. He doesn’t miss how a few kids walk by and intentionally throw things at his feet for him to pick up. They don’t get away with it, though, because either they trip and find their shoelaces are mysteriously tied together, or for those unlucky ones without laces, they’ll find a snake in their lockers. The miserable part is, Adam and Barbara aren’t allowed to hang out with him while he’s working. They’d tried, and were told in no uncertain terms to leave him alone, leave him to his task, or they’d be sent to the other side of the campus to do the same thing. A little bit of punishment, he understands. But he draws the line at threatening Sexy and Babs. He’s absolutely plotting exactly how he’s going to ruin the overbearing adult’s day when he feels a strange sensation in his chest, like a slight tug. He pauses. It’s not a pain, not really, more like a pull away from himself, which doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what it is. He has to assume it’s another demon thing.

He glances at his watcher, who seems engrossed in paperwork.

Man, if only this guy would fuck off, he could be enjoying lunch with his friends- The pull away from himself is stronger, this time. He concentrates on it, and then remembers how physical the summoning of clones is, requiring a motion like he’s tossing something, and he gives that a try, this time, gently lobbing nothing at a student passing by. The kid looks surprised, and then goes rigid, and he thinks maybe he’s killed someone for the first time, but then the teen straightens up, and stands, stiff, facing him, and BJ feels mentally split, between two bodies. He raises his right hand. The student mirrors the action, eyes wide, confused. He lowers it, then kicks his leg out to the side, and again, he’s copied. Not copied.. Followed? The other student is like a marionette, and his mind is the strings, or something close to that. “Possession,” he grins, wickedly, and then he pulls himself back all to one body, and the kid falls on his ass, confused, and scrambles away.

Oh, he is so going to use this new power for evil.

“BJ Deetz! I don’t see this quad getting any cleaner!” Honeywell has looked up from his paperwork to find Betelgeuse standing there, grinning to himself, and the teen responds by spinning around, and throwing nothing at the overbearing authority figure. Honeywell also goes rigid, and BJ lifts his hands, directing the VP to stand, and the hapless adult does so. “Looks clean enough to me,” he mouths, and hears that sentence come out of Honeywell’s lips. “Clean enough to eat offa!” With a swiping motion, he forces the man to knock his own hardly touched lunch to the ground, and then BJ crouches low, and the adult follows, shoving his face into what was clearly leftovers from some night’s dinner, and coming back up with a mouthful of noodles and dirt. The big man’s eyes are wide. He’s scared, confused. It’s thrilling. With a hand motion, BJ forces the breather’s face back into the mess of food and dirt, and doesn’t let him up until the muffled cries become truly panicked. Possession out in public might be a bit too noticeable, though, because there’s a gathering group of kids watching what the teacher is doing, their phones out, taking video, and he doesn’t need them connecting his own strange movements back to Honeywell’s. He makes a final hand motion, releasing the adult, and shoves his hands in his pockets, just in time for Adam and Barbara to appear as faces in the crowd. Honeywell, freed, sits up, coughing and sputtering, and looking horrified. “What the heck happened?” Adam asks, and BJ shrugs. “He started throwin’ a fit, outta no where,” he lies, but he feels the vice principal watching him, staring up from the dirt, where he’s still sat, dazed. He gives the adult a grin. “Totally fuckin’ weird.”

The rest of his lunch period is freed up, suddenly, as Honeywell goes to clean himself off in the men’s room.

This fun new ability requires further testing, but not right now, now when Adam and Barbara are around. Soon, though. Very soon. “I’m really bummed we can’t be in the library anymore. I tried to pop in to grab something this morning and the librarian chased me out.” Adam looks genuinely sad, at that, which startles BJ out of his downright vicious thoughts. “By the way,” Adam adds, “They put up the casting sheet today. Want to guess who got that dentist part?” Barbara is grinning wide. “Me?” he croaks. A few other kids tried for it.. He didn’t think he’d get picked, honestly, thought that maybe someone more likable, or more friendly, would be chosen over him, but Barbara squishes his cheeks in her hands. “You!” she cheers, and he blushes. “You’re going to be amazing! But that means,” she tells him, suddenly serious, “-that you have to actually try.” He nods, as much as he can, her hands still on either side of his face. “Effort,” he grunts. “Got it.” She leans forward and kisses the tip of his nose. He scrambles to throw his hood over his head, and cinches it closed, knowing for a fact he’s gone pink from the tips of his hair down to the roots. “BJ?” Barbara giggles, as he peers out at her from his hood. “Should I not do that?” “NO! No, no, I, uh, just.. Warn a guy, next time.”

He hadn’t thought through the logistics of this, clearly, because he can’t be scrambling away from them every time one of them kisses him, just because his stupid hair won’t behave itself. God, he’s going to have to start wearing a beanie, or something, until he can get this color thing under control. Annoyingly, his dad was right. He really hadn’t given this much thought, beyond, Adam and Barbara pretty, wanna kiss them. Now he’s got to work out the logistics of how he’s going to actually achieve that goal, without basically, for lack of a better word, outing himself. He doesn’t want to think that something like what happened with Kevin could happen again, but he hadn’t really seen that situation coming, and it had ended about as poorly as a budding romance can, with parental murder. So yeah, he’s not exactly confident he can trust them with this secret. Better to keep it to himself, play his cards close to the chest, not let them all the way in. That’s safest for all of them. Good plan, BJ, he thinks to himself, watching Barbara dust wood shavings out of Adam’s hair, a leftover byproduct of his shop class. No one gets hurt. No one has to know anything. He can keep playing human with his cute new partners for as long as they’ll let him.

Stretching before him, suddenly, he foresees a lifetime, several lifetimes actually, given the span of existence for a demon, lifetimes full of deceit and lies and partners who age without him, and it all makes him very tired, and sad. This is going to be how it is, he realizes. He’s going to pretend and mimic and do his best to fit himself into a template that he wasn’t made for, and he’s presumably going to be doing it forever, maybe until the minute the last human takes their last breath, because playing human is as close as he can get. It's easier to play pretend, throw a glamour on and act along, than to be himself and risk the pain and rejection, or the truth that maybe his worth is tied into what he can do, not who he is. It all leaves him dizzy, this sudden moment of unwanted clarity. He pushes it down, far down at it can go, to somewhere deep in his chest, and tries to come back to this moment, right now, because his boyfriend is looking at him. “You going to stay in that hood all day, shy guy?” Adam smiles, and BJ peels the hood back, and runs a hand through the mop of green mess that passes for his hair, and smiles, like he didn’t just have a mini existential crisis in the middle of a Monday afternoon. “What do you guys do for lunch when you’re not being wooed by an errant library assistant?” Betelgeuse forces an extra bit of pep that he doesn’t feel into his voice, and Barbara brightens. “You can come meet my friends!” She says, and he lets her lead him by the hand, across the quad, a corpse playing pretend at being alive, holding hands with the living.

They find Barbara’s friends at the lunch tables. He’s never sat over here, never really had reason to be over here at all, actually, because each table is always claimed by a friend group, and he’s never felt welcome enough to try and squeeze in with any of them. But he sort of has a group now, he supposes. If three can be a crowd, it can be a group. He does feel eyes on him as he’s directed on where to sit by Barbara, other kids at other tables watching him, maybe confused on how he’s ingratiated himself enough to actually have a place to sit. Barbara arranges where they sit, seemingly very intentionally, with herself between Betelgeuse and Adam, and Allison and Blair on the other side of the table, and they begin eating. The air is a little tense. He picks at his lunch, leftovers Charles packed for him. It smells amazing, but he doesn’t want to scarf it all down, not when he’s feeling watched, the way he is. And he is being watched, very intently so, by Barbara’s friends, who are apparently also Adam’s friends. Everyone but him seems to know so many other people. It’s almost insane, like, how do they keep them all straight? He’s only vaguely aware of which one of these similar white girls is Blair, because he’s spoken to her, at least once. Allison might as well be a balloon with a face painted on it. “So,” Blair puts down her fork. She’s eating a dry salad with little chunks of chicken in it, low carb, low cal. He’d be worried for her health if he gave a shit. “So,” he copies her instinctively, tilting her head the same way she does, holding his hands in front of himself in a mirror of her own movements. Barbara catches what he’s doing, and gives his arm a gentle pinch. “Is this for real?” Blair isn’t asking him, she’s looking between Adam and Barbara, who are both looking a little surprised at the sudden question. “What do you mean?” Adam asks, unsure, and Blair gestures between the three of them. “This whole.. This! When Barbara said she suddenly had two boyfriends, I had to check my calendar, make sure it wasn’t April Fool’s. And then it turns out to be you and..” Her eyes fall back on Betelgeuse. “Him. You, Adam, I get. You and Barbara together, that makes sense. But, like, BJ?” “Sure, if you’re offerin’,” he says, and Blair makes a face. Go on over to Ao3 to read the rest!! There's more waiting for your hungry eyes over there

[seanfalco]

Nothing Wrong | Vincent Rhodes x Reader

Word count: 1.7k Prompt: Can I pls request a soft vincent x reader fluff/angst fic where he might be having a rough tic day, and the reader comforts him. Requested by: @elliethesuperfruitlover​

The cafeteria was more crowded than usual today and you hesitated as you caught sight of all the people, nearly turning on your heel and fleeing back to your room before you felt Vincent’s arm wrap around you.

“Woah!” he exclaimed, holding you in place next to his side.

“V, c’mon please, there’s no way too many people in there,” you whispered, your feet rooted in place, though Vincent’s arm around you was nice and you shrunk back, pressing closer to his side.

“I know,” he murmured softly, glancing down at you.  “But you can do this, [y/n],” he insisted, giving you a squeeze.  “You’ll have me and Alex with you too.  You won’t be alone,” he assured you, but a thought hit you and you quickly peered around the lunch room.

“What if our usual table’s full by the time we get there?”

“Then we’ll find somewhere else to sit,” he answered, taking a step, pulling you with him.

“But what if there’s no more empty tables and we have to share with someone else?” you countered, your chest constricting with dread and your appetite all but disappearing at the thought.

“Then we’ll… meet someone new,” he offered, his voice more positive than he probably felt, but you had to admit you appreciated it despite the way you groaned and dragged your feet.  “If it helps, you can always keep your eyes on me,” he whispered in your ear as you got into line and you picked up your plastic tray.

Glancing up at him, you were met with a cheeky grin that made your heart give an excited flutter.  “It’s hard to take my eyes off you enough as it is,” you murmured back teasingly, enjoying the blush that spread across Vincent’s face.

By the time you’d grabbed your plate of food you found Alex saving you and Vincent a seat at your usual table, the other chairs blessedly empty and you breathed a sigh of relief, sitting with your back to the rest of the room.

“There, see.  Nothin’ to worry about, right?” Vincent said, leaning in to murmur in your ear as he sat next to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, though the fond grin you wore as you ducked your head gave you away.

It was about halfway through your meal when you noticed Vincent grimace and clamp his jaw shut, a look of intense concentration on his face.

“V…?  You okay?” you asked, half reaching across the table to touch his arm when he suddenly jerked away, gripped by a particularly strong cluster of tics that lasted longer than usual, his tray of food clattering from the table.

The room went eerily quiet and you froze, feeling eyes on your back, everyone turning to stare at you and Vincent.  Too petrified to turn around, your breath stuck in your throat, all you could see was the embarrassed look on Vincent’s face as he stared at the table, anger in his eyes before he pushed his chair back and strode from the room, kicking his tray out of his way as he went.

Stunned, you glanced up to share a wide eyed look with Alex who looked just as lost as you were, torn between going after Vincent and staying put.

Closing your eyes all you could see was the pained look on his face before he’d stormed out.  When you heard the whispers begin to break out behind you, something in you snapped, and despite the paralyzing anxiety that gripped you like a vice, you stood, scraping your chair back before reluctantly turning to face the crowded room still gaping after Vincent.

“What’re you all looking at?” you demanded at the sea of eyes, though your voice wavered dangerously and you pulse pounded in your ears so loud you could barely hear yourself over it.  “The fuck is the matter with you?  Haven’t you ever seen someone with Tourette’s before?” you exclaimed before taking off after Vincent, pushing through the double doors as if the devil himself were on your heels.

As soon as you stumbled outside you pressed your back to the side of the building to catch your breath while your ears buzzed and your heart tried to pound its way through your rib cage.  A wave of nausea overtook you and you fought to stay upright despite the way your legs shook.

It took you several minutes to calm down, breathing deeply through the anxiety attack, but all you could think of was Vincent and where he’d gone, if he was okay.

Straightening, you took a deep breath and took off around the building, deciding to first check the picnic bench he’d taken you to on your first day.  If he wasn’t there, your next guess was his room, but something pulled you to the small wooded corner of the grounds.

Sure enough, you found Vincent sitting under the boughs of the large oak, his back pressed to its wide trunk and his knees drawn up to his chest.  When he heard you approach, he lifted his curly head.  “[y/n],” he asked, clearly surprised to see you. 

“Can I sit?” you asked, your heart still racing slightly, afraid he’d tell you to leave.

“Yeah, sure,” Vincent mumbled, scooting over so you could sit next to him, your shoulder touching his.

“You okay?” you asked hesitantly, trying to get a better look at his face as his curls hung in his downturned eyes.

“I’m just… frustrated -- CUNT!”  He sighed, averting his face.  “I haven’t caused a scene that bad in a while,” he explained, his shoulders tensing.  “And the look on your face…” he trailed off, covering his face in his hands.  “You were already having a hard enough time being in there as it was, and I made it worse.”

“Hey, no.  Oh, Vincent, please please don’t blame yourself,” you exclaimed, turning toward him fully, but he shook his head, unable to make himself look at you.

“I could feel it building and I just kept trying to hold it in and it only made it worse,” he groaned.

Reaching over to gently turn his face toward you, you tilted your head, catching his eye.  “I’m okay, V,” you insisted, and for a moment it looked like Vincent was gunna argue with you, but you pressed on, not giving him the chance.

“Just look at it like… it gave me a chance to face my fear -- a behavioral exercise, right?” you said, though the look Vincent gave you looked doubtful. 

“Look,” you sighed, taking his hand and threading your fingers with his.  “Before I came here I didn’t ever leave my house, much less my room some days.  And my dad, though he loved me very much, he didn’t know how to help me and so he enabled my behavior.  He did everything for me so I never had to be uncomfortable, but ultimately all that did was hurt me in the long run,” you explained, fighting past the lump in your throat that appeared every time you thought of him.  “His funeral was the first time I’d left the house in nearly two years.”  

At your words, Vincent’s head jerked up, his eyes wide and an apologetic look on his face.  Smiling sadly, you shook your head.  “Yes, its uncomfortable, and yes, some days all I wanna do is hide, but if being here, if pushing myself out of my comfort zone is gunna help me, then I wanna do it,” you said, determination creeping into your voice, but when you turned back to Vincent, your expression softened.

“I told you before, Vincent, I’m never embarrassed to be seen with you.  I like spending time with you, and you’ve done more to help me work through my problems than anyone in a long time,” you insisted, holding eye contact, though your heart rate spiked.

“Your tics don’t bother me, V, and fuck all those people for staring,” you exclaimed heatedly, bringing a small grin to his face.  “I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough morning, but I’m not going anywhere.  I’m here for you,” you insisted, leaning in to press a hesitant kiss to the corner of his mouth.  

For a moment Vincent’s eyes widened, flicking from your eyes to your lips and back before wetting his own lips and leaning in, somewhat jerkily, pressing his lips to yours for a proper kiss.

When he pulled back, his eyes fluttering open, you realized how hot your cheeks had grown and your eyes dropped, though you couldn’t banish the giddy grin twisting your lips and Vincent cleared his throat, smiling as well as he rested the side of his head against yours.

“Thank [y/n], that means a lot,” he murmured, sighing contentedly.

“Anytime,” you replied, sighing as well, your mind unable to quite get past that kiss and you wondered if he was thinking about it too, still.

After several minutes your stomach growled, breaking the silence and Vincent chuckled.  “I’m hungry too,” he admitted, straightening.  “What d’you say we try lunch over?” 

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” you agreed, letting Vincent pull you to your feet.

——

“Vincent, you should’ve seen it!” Alex exclaimed as Vincent collapsed atop his bed after finally returning to his room, having spent the rest of the afternoon with [y/n].

“Seen what?” he asked, letting his eyes close, his thoughts drifting back to the kiss he’d initiated earlier, remembering as many little details as possible -- how soft her lips had been, or the flavour of the chapstick she’d been wearing, to the way her breath had caught and her body seemed to melt against his side.

“[y/n], duh!” Alex answered, pulling him from his reverie and he frowned, his eyes opening to fix on his roommate as he half pushed himself up. 

“What’re you talking about?”

“After you left the cafeteria earlier.  She practically confronted the whole bloody room just to tell them off for staring,” he explained with an incredulous chuckle.  “I would’ve never believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself.  I mean, she was shaking like a leaf the whole time, but it was brilliant.  She must really like you, you lucky bastard,” he pointed out, his thick dark brows raising pointedly.  “...For some reason,” he added under his breath, but Vincent didn’t hear him, his mood instantly buoyed by this piece of information.

If she was willing to face the thing she was most afraid of for him…

Grinning like an idiot, Vincent flopped back down on his bed, planning out just how he was gunna make it up to her.

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