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theweasleysredhair · 4 years

Text

I Wanna Be Yours [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 6025

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Love is complicated. Especially when the boy you love likes someone else. Or does he? [Based on the film Some Kind of Wonderful].

WARNING: brief mentions of alcohol and drinking

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @valwritesx @hufflrpuffforfred @cappsikle @kiwi-sloan @potter-redheads @pigwidgexn @twinkyjohnson @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @user12345321 @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake @heavenlymidnight @aylinw3asley @andineversawyoucoming | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: i am again naming my fics after arctic monkeys’ songs - fun fact this one is named after my favourite one of theirs, i’m considering having it for my wedding song bc it cute af

also yes i watched some kind of wonderful whilst writing this and cried. it’s not even a sad fic, i’m just emotional smh

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

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“Y/n! Wait up!”

You span round on your heels, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen, “I said I’m fine, Fred! Okay? I’m fine. Absolutely fabulous, in fact.”

Fred stopped in front of you, a shimmer of pity in his brown eyes that made you feel even worse than you already did, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I-I’m sorry-“

“I know. I know, Freddie,” you replied, your voice quiet as you pressed your lips together, reaching out to grab his hands in yours, “It’s okay. It is, really. I just... I need to be alone.”

“But I- I just... it’s his loss, just so you know!” He pleaded, shaking his head at you, and swore under his breath at the sight of one of his closest friends in tears over his brother, “Merlin, he shouldn’t have given that to her- I shouldn’t have said anything-“

And that’s where your problem had started. Because a few weeks ago, you were, as you claimed, fine. Well, you had a few essays due and were having trouble finding the textbooks to help you write them, but that was all really.

How you wished you could steal a time turner and go back in time.

And yes, when this all started you knew that George had his heart taken by someone else. It’s not his fault, not really, that his whole plan, scheme, escapade turned into something that would completely crush your heart.

Affairs of the heart. That’s where this started. Because before a few days ago, you were unaware of your own feelings. Before a few days ago, you were unaware of any feelings towards him at all.

But that fateful moment - the one where you were sat with George in front of the fireplace, a half-drank bottle of firewhisky sitting between you, laughing and joking - was the one that changed everything.

You hadn’t even realised yourself, until Fred pointed it out to you the morning after, when he’d found you curled up by George’s side, empty firewhisky bottle laying on the floor in front of the couch, George’s arm around your waist, your face buried into his chest.

In Fred’s defence, he thought you knew. He thought you’d be aware of your own feelings.

How was he supposed to know that you didn’t know you were in love with his twin?

_________~*~_________

“This is the year I reckon,” George announced to you as he collapsed onto the sofa beside you, throwing his legs over your thighs as he rested his back against the arm of the couch, his arms resting behind his neck, “She’s finally single, first time since second year. Now’s my chance!”

You popped a Bertie’s Every Flavour Bean into your mouth and closed the book you weren’t really paying attention to, before dropping it on the table in front of the couch, “And how long have you liked her again?”

George blinked at the way you raised an eyebrow at him and sat up a little, “Since I found out she was single again.” At your pointed look, he shot you a grin, “Nah, since before the summer. Point is, I reckon I could really like this girl.”

“Poor love, having you snivelling around her all the time. I wonder how she’ll cope,” you grinned back, throwing one of the jelly beans at his head.

“Well you seem to cope just fine,” he retorted, batting another jelly bean away from his head.

“That’s just because I’m desensitised to you by now.”

“Is that so?” George asked with a raised eyebrow, a grin etched onto his face as he sat up properly, leaning a little closer to you. You turned your head to face him, meeting his stare as you nodded, “Course, how else would I have put up with you so long?”

He leant further forward and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, “Willingly, because you love me, stupid.”

You nudged him, making him laugh as he went back to lying down comfortably, “Yeah, yeah.”

You watched a few first years clamber through the portrait hole, laughing to each other as they made their way through the common room, an absent-minded smile gracing your lips as you recalled being the same in your first year with your friends.

“How do you reckon I should ask her out?” George’s voice brought you away from your reminiscing as you looked over at him, “She deserves something amazing, something no other guy will have thought of for her.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing this would be the topic of conversation for the rest of the evening, but nevertheless gestured for him to continue on. “I wanna go all out if she’s gonna turn out to be everything I’ve ever wanted in a girl,” George finished, a dreamy, faraway look crossing his features.

Reaching into the box of jelly beans, you grabbed a handful and threw them at him, ignoring his indignant “hey!” as you replied pointedly, “Don’t go mistaking paradise for a pair of long legs.”

Because truthfully, that was why a lot of guys were interested in Kiara. She was smart - being a Ravenclaw and all - surprisingly funny, and, as far as you knew, was really kind too. Not that this mattered to many of the boys in your year (and the years above and below), apparently, because she was also beautiful, with long, glossy brown hair, perfect doll-like features and, yes, long, lean legs.

“That’s not why I like her,” George insisted, grabbing one of the jelly beans that had fallen onto his lap and throwing it back at you, laughing as it hit you on the forehead. You playfully glared at him, rubbing your forehead in mock-hurt.

“Sure it’s not, stupid,” you replied, using his minor insult from before. “Ohhh, I’m the stupid one now, am I?” He scoffed, though the smile on his face told you he wasn’t offended in the slightest, “Now you’re in for it.”

He moved his legs off you and poked your sides, knowing you were ticklish, making you laugh out and push him away, “George, stop!”

“Take it back then, love. Say I’m the smartest wizard you know,” he grinned, continuing his minor tickling assault, making you move away from him so abruptly that you fell off the couch and onto the carpeted floor, bringing him down on top of you.

“Ouch- never! You are stupid, stupid!” You laughed, laying on the floor as you tried to catch your breath, George’s hands either side of your head, holding his weight up above you.

Both of your laughter faded a little and you found yourself staring into his brown eyes, his face barely centimetres from your own. You could have almost sworn that he started moving closer - though maybe it was your imagination - before he rolled away and lay beside you on the floor, his hand brushing yours.

“You’ll help me right?” He asked after a moment. You turned your head to look at him, taking in his side profile as he stared up at the ceiling.

“I’ll help you what?”

“Get a date with her,” he said as if it were obvious, turning his head to meet your gaze. You shot him a smile, “You’re George Weasley. You could get a date with anyone you wanted.”

“Just not you, right?” He turned onto his side, resting on his elbow as he looked down at you. You shook your head with a laugh, “Yeah well, I don’t count. I’m not just anyone.”

The smile he gave you made your heart beat a little faster, “You’re right about that.”

***

“All I’m saying is, is it such a bad idea if you just, I don’t know, asked her out simply? By using words? I really don’t think you need to wax poetic, or write her a bloody song to ask her out,” you shook your head in despair at the nerve-wracked boy sat across from you in the Great Hall.

“I can’t just ask her out,” George replied in a horrified voice, “What if she thinks I’ve not put enough effort into it and rejects me?”

“Trust me, Georgie, if she’s going to reject you, it won’t be because of the way you asked her out, I can guarantee that. It’ll be because you’re annoying, or because you smell, or, and I can’t stress this enough, because of your below-average skills in potions,” you laughed at his unimpressed look, taking the opportunity to grab a slice of toast off his plate.

“You’re supposed to be my best friend, you know,” he grumbled, waving his fork at you. “Yes,” you replied, “And as your best friend, I say to just ask her out. Look, joking aside, you’re a great guy, George. She’d be lucky to have you.”

He nodded, smiling gratefully at you as he reached forward and grabbed your hand to give it a squeeze, “Okay, I’ll trust you on this one. I’ll just... ask her out. How difficult could it be?”

Turns out, extremely difficult. You felt second hand embarrassment as you watched George head over to the Ravenclaw table, to where Kiara was sitting, wincing as he nearly dropped a goblet of pumpkin juice over her.

“Who’re you watching?” A voice said from beside you, making you jump. Fred laughed as you rolled your eyes at him, before replying, “For your information, I’m watching your brother ask Kiara on a date.”

“Wait, he’s asking another girl on a date?” Fred frowned, his eyes darting from George, who was currently speaking to Kiara, his cheeks reddening as she touched his shoulder and laughed, to your confused expression as you looked up at the older twin. “Yes?” You replied, bemused, “Why?”

“Does it not... bother you?” He asked gently. You laughed, “Why would it?”

And as you watched Kiara throw her arms around George’s neck, his hands coming to hold her waist, you swallowed thickly, before shaking your head at the odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Why would it bother you?

You forced a smile onto your face as George made his way back to his original seat, a smug grin adorning his features. “Well?” You asked, rather redundantly as you had seen the whole thing yourself.

“She said yes,” he replied excitedly, picking up his fork and popping some bacon into his mouth. “I told you!” You grinned at him, though you pushed your own plate away, no longer hungry.

“Attaboy, Georgie!” Fred congratulated his twin, “When’s the date?”

“This Saturday, at The Three Broomsticks,” the younger twin replied. You zoned out of the chatter on the table about this newest revelation, feeling your heart plummet at George’s words, though you couldn’t place your finger on why.

George was your best friend, you should be happy for him... right?

***

Saturday arrived quicker than you wanted, after a week of tedious lessons, and a bombardment of questions over what George should do on his date.

You watched him pull out two different jumpers, holding each one up at a time and looking at you expectedly. Tilting your head to the side, you pointed to the red one, “Was always my favourite one.”

“Red it is,” he nodded, throwing the other jumper onto his bed as he held the red jumper out to you for you to hold. Without warning, he pulled the t shirt he was currently wearing off, leaving his toned torso on show as he dropped said t shirt onto the floor and held his hand out for the jumper.

You handed it to him, gulping a little as you forced yourself not to stare at his abs. It was no secret the George was good looking - you’d always known it - but knowing and seeing were two different things. Being a Beater had done tremendous things to his body, you noted.

“Do you reckon I should bring her flowers?” George asked you, looking at you through the reflection of his mirror as he messed his hair up a little.

“Couldn’t hurt,” you shrugged, sending him a half-hearted smile as you grabbed your wand, muttering ‘orchideous’ and handing him the bouquet that was produced.

He thanked you, before taking a deep breath, “Well, what do you reckon?”

The smile that spread across your face this time was genuine, a soft look in your eye as you replied, “You look great, Georgie. Now go get her!”

He shot you one last grin, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before heading out of his dorm, leaving you alone. You picked up the t shirt he’d dropped, folding it and placing it at the end of his bed, before grabbing the jumper he’d discarded.

You took a breath before deciding to put the jumper on, relishing in the smell of George’s aftershave as you pulled it over your head, before rolling up the sleeves and heading out of the dorm.

***

“How many dates has it been now, three? Four?” You asked, wrapping your coat further around yourself as you trudged through the thick snow of Hogsmeade, passing by a couple of cute shops.

“The Yule Ball will be the fifth.”

You froze at the mention of the Ball. Somehow you’d assumed you’d be going with George - you didn’t even think about the fact that he’d have a girlfriend he could take, “Oh! So you um, asked Kiara to the Ball then?”

“Last night,” George bit his lip as he smiled, “Can’t wait!”

Your stomach clenched and mind raced, eyebrows furrowing as you realised you now had just under a week and half to find a date to the Ball - if anyone was still available, that was. You thought about every single eligible boy you knew of, wondering if you had the courage to even ask any of them, before you were pulled from your thoughts by George’s voice.

“I wanna buy her something for Christmas, what do you reckon?” George asked, picking at a strand coming off his woollen hat before placing it back onto his head.

“I don’t really know the girl,” you said truthfully, forcing yourself to stop thinking about George and Kiara dancing and him holding her all night, “I assume you’d have better judgment.”

He nodded over to a small shop on your left, one that you’d passed by many times but never had the chance to look in.

“The jewellery shop?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. He grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the door, “Let’s just have a look, yeah?”

The bell chimed as you stepped inside and you instantly became enamoured with the little shop, rows of glass cases showing off sparkly pieces of jewellery and adornments. Most, you noticed quickly, were much too expensive for you - and by default, much too expensive for George, too.

“Are you sure about something from in here?” You asked, staring down at a ring adorned with sapphires, “These are pretty pricey.”

“They might be, but she deserves it. Besides, gotta prove I’m better than all the guys that want to date her, right?” George replied from across the shop.

“Georgie,” you looked over at him with a pointed look, “I can promise you are better than all the other guys.”

“No harm in making sure.”

You gave up arguing, knowing he wouldn’t listen anyway, your eyes taking in the beautiful products, before your focus was taken by a rather stunning necklace. Stepping over to it for a closer look, you breathed out in shock at the price, but nevertheless knew you were in love with the chain, a little pendant surrounded by crystals displayed at the centre.

“What’ve you seen?” George spoke, suddenly standing behind you and leaning over your shoulder.

You pointed at the necklace, “Someday, I’m gonna buy that one.”

George glanced down at the look on your face and grinned to himself, “Someday, I’ll buy that one for you.” You turned to look at him, shaking your head in amusement, “You need to choose something for your girlfriend before you start promising me presents.”

“What’s the fun in that?” George laughed as you both left the shop.

You sat beside George on the couch later that night, resting your head on his shoulder as you shared a bottle of firewhisky between you.

“It was not!” You screeched, your laugh echoing through the empty common room as you nudged the ginger boy, making him laugh along with you. “It absolutely was,” he insisted, grinning before taking a sip of the firewhisky, taking in the sight of you looking so happy, and realising your laugh was one of his favourite sounds, “You were the one who wanted to sneak food from the kitchens, so it was your fault we got caught!”

You shook your head, “It was you tripping into that metal armour. All that noise when the bloody head fell off.”

“You pushed me, stupid!” George scolded indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a child.

“I shoved you,” you corrected, laughing as George playfully nudged you, causing you to nudge him back, and soon you were play fighting on the couch.

He, once again, was above you, almost pinning you to the couch as he looked down at you, and it was only then that you realised just how inebriated you both were, the empty firewhisky bottle having fallen onto the floor.

George’s tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, “You know I love you, right?”

You smiled softly up at him, arms around his neck as you nodded, somehow feeling like those words had more weight to them than usual. Leaning up to kiss his cheek, you replied, “Of course, Georgie.”

Morning arrived quickly, much to your dismay, and you were woken abruptly by the sound of heavy footsteps stomping down the stairs. You couldn’t bring yourself to move to see who it was, too comfortable with your head resting on George’s chest, his arm securely around your waist, but luckily for you, said culprit of the noise came right by your line of sight, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Well what do we have here?” Fred cooed, rocking back and forth as he looked at you curled up in his twin’s arms. “Me and George falling asleep after drinking maybe a tad too much?” You replied as if it were obvious.

“You look awfully cosy,” he grinned, “But then, I suppose I would too if I was cuddling someone I was in love with.”

You felt like your heart stopped and you nearly choked on air, “Wait wait wait, someone I what?!”

“‘Someone I was in love with’?” Fred repeated slowly, narrowing his eyes at you, “You do know... right?”

At your blank expression, Fred raised an eyebrow, “You do know you’re in love with George... right?”

“I’m not in love with-“ You paused as you thought back over the years of your friendship. You’d never really thought about it before - never really had to. But you treated George differently to any other friend you had. No one could make you laugh like he could, or make you feel as protected and safe as he did. And no one ever made you feel like you were flying, like he did.

“Oh Godric... I’m in love with George!” You whisper-shouted, a hand coming to cover your mouth as the realisation dawned on you.

Fred nodded, “I didn’t know that you didn’t know.”

“That’s why you asked me if it bothered me when he asked out Kiara, isn’t it?” You suddenly realised, gulping harshly.

Fred nodded again, though a tad more hesitantly than before, “Hey, but listen- I really think he feels the same, if it makes you feel any better! He just doesn’t know it either.”

You moved out of George’s grasp and stood up, pressing your lips together as you looked at Fred, “He’s got a girlfriend, who he’s taking to the Yule Ball and who he adores and they’re probably gonna get married and have kids and I’m going to be alone forever!”

“Hey, that’s not- that won’t happen,” Fred replied, his gaze softening as he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and stroking your back comfortingly.

“He loves you, I know it. And he knows it too. He just doesn’t know that he knows it.”

***

Ever since your realisation in the early morning, you’d tried your best to act normal around George. It wasn’t easy, and you felt that maybe you were being a little more distant than usual, however you quickly pushed that thought aside as you noticed George being equally - if not more - distant, sitting at the end of the table beside Fred, Kiara on his other side as he whispered things in her ear, making her laugh.

You felt a pang of hurt, one that got worse the longer you stared at them, watching as they kissed, as George stared at her lovingly, as he pushed her long, brown, stupidly perfect hair behind her ear and making her blush.

Sitting on the opposite side of the table, you made yourself look away, instead immersing yourself in the conversation Ron and Harry were having about the Yule Ball.

“This is mad, at this rate we’ll be the only ones in our year without dates!” Ron hissed at Harry as you were all sat in the Great Hall, supposedly studying. You hid a laugh as Snape walked past and pushed his head.

“Well, us and Neville,” he continued with a small laugh. Harry leant over to him, “Yeah but then again, he can take himself.”

“It might interest you to know that Neville has already got someone,” Hermione interrupted their laughing with a frown.

Ron sighed, catching your gaze as you laughed at him - which made him sigh again, “Now I’m really depressed.”

You observed from the other side of the table as Fred threw a piece of parchment over to his younger brother, winking at you when he noticed you watching, as Ron frowned at the words on the page.

Ron handed the parchment back, glancing around to avoid Snape and whispered, “Who are you going with then?”

Fred grabbed the parchment and crumpled it up into a ball, before throwing it at you, the paper bouncing off your shoulder. You looked down at the paper, before meeting Fred’s gaze with a raised eyebrow.

He grinned at you, before miming the Ball, nodding over at you. You rolled your eyes, glancing round for Snape before throwing the parchment back at him, hitting him square in the face and causing half the table to hid their faces as they laughed.

“Well?” He asked, seemingly unfazed by the parchment that was now resting at his feet.

“Yeah, go on then, I suppose,” you whispered, shaking your head at him as he winked at Ron. When all the attention went back to school work, you caught Fred’s gaze again and smiled thankfully.

He saluted playfully, making you laugh, neither one of you noticing George’s frown and clenched fists beside him.

***

You hadn’t seen much of George since Fred had asked you to the Ball, him being too busy spending practically all of his time with Kiara.

It hurt, you had to admit, that he was constantly choosing her over you. Though you assumed it was only natural, what with Kiara being his first proper girlfriend.

Didn’t mean it hurt any less. And the fact you were so used to having George to yourself didn’t help - sometimes turning to ask him something, and then realising he’s not there.

He’d moved seats in class to sit by Kiara, meaning in some classes you were sat with whoever happened to be her previous partner, which therefore meant you were forced to watch as the boy you loved flirted with another girl, his hands constantly on her waist, sneaking kisses when the professor wasn’t looking, and, more often than not, simply not even acknowledging your existence, not even saying a simple ‘hello’.

In other classes you were sat by Fred, who, by all accounts, was actually a pretty good partner, being able to make you laugh and distract you from the show that tore your heart every time you saw it.

In fact, Fred had pretty much mastered exactly how to make you laugh until you cried, his aim in most lessons now, as he hated how sad you were because of his twin.

You were both giggling in the back of the classroom at something he’d said when McGonagall had pointed it out, asking you both to “Please quieten down.”

You bit your lip to muffle your laughing as Fred looked down at you, just happy he could make his friend smile when he knew how much you were hurting.

Much to the dislike of a certain redhead towards the front of the room, who immediately frowned every time he heard your laugh, knowing he wasn’t the one causing it, but his older twin.

His twin who was taking you to the Yule Ball.

George clenched his jaw as he heard you whispering something to Fred, barely being able to focus on anything else.

He knew you and Fred were friends, but since when were you both that close?

***

By the time the Yule Ball arrived, you and George were barely speaking at all. You’d cried about it more times than you’d like to admit, but you had decided that tonight, at the Ball, you would make it a night to remember, not wanting to mope and ruin Fred’s night since he had asked you pretty much as a favour - despite the amount of times he’d insisted he wanted to ask you, you knew he fancied Angelina Johnson, and had things played out differently, you were sure she’d have been the one he’d thrown the parchment at in the hall that day, not you.

Either way, when you’d made your way down the steps to the Great Hall, your dress swirling around you, hair and makeup perfect, Fred made a huge deal of wolf-whistling and complimenting you.

“Well aren’t you bloody gorgeous,” he grinned, taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss the back of it, “I am one lucky guy.”

“You clean up pretty good too, Weasley,” you grinned, reaching up to straighten out his tie.

George scowled as he watched you with Fred, hating you being in such proximity to his brother, hands clenching and knuckles turning white as he watched Fred kiss the back of your hand. He had to force himself not to run over and shove Fred’s hands away from your waist, as he guided you off to the Hall. He was so distracted by firstly how stunning you looked, and secondly by how forward his brother was being, that he barely even noticed when Kiara had arrived by his side, until she nudged him a little and he forced out a smile.

He complimented the brunette girl, guiding her into the Hall as his hand reached into his pocket, brushing over a box to make sure it was still there.

Fred had been the perfect date all evening. He was a gentlemen - besides the occasional flirty comment - and insisted on staying by your side and dancing, even when you tried to usher him to ask Angelina to dance.

He was just about to give into your insistence with a laugh, when he noticed your expression changed as your attention was taken from him to whatever was going on behind him.

He cursed under his breath as he watched George hold out a small black box to Kiara, who had a huge smile on her face as she took the lid off. She pulled out a necklace, bringing George into a hug immediately, pressing kisses to his face.

Fred stood in front of your view of them, taking your hands in his, “Y/n... I’m sorry. He’s an idiot- he doesn’t know he’s got such a good thing, and wouldn’t know it if you punched him in the face - which, for the record, I think you should do.”

You wiped a stray tear from your eye, forcing yourself not to cry, “He gave her the necklace.”

“I know. I know, but he-“

“No Fred,” you interrupted gently, “He gave her the necklace. That necklace is one I saw when we were in Hogsmeade, and I said I wanted it. He-He even said he’d buy it for me one day! Not that I’d let him but- He bought it for her.”

Fred’s gaze softened, his heart breaking at the sight of your sad face, wrapping his arms around you and swaying a little to the music absent-mindedly.

“I’m sorry,” Fred whispered in your ear. You nodded, leaning against his shoulder, “Not your fault your brother is stupid.”

The song that was playing ended, and Fred grabbed your hand, leading you over to the table where the food and drinks were, pouring you a glass and offering it out to you. You took it gratefully, thanking him before taking a sip.

“Didn’t know you two were that close,” a voice came from behind you. A voice you knew well, one you could pick out anywhere. Fred reached out to squeeze your hand reassuringly, as you placed your glass down, nodding at him before turning around.

“Fred and I have always been good friends. I do have friends, other than you, you know. Which is a good job, considering you’ve been so distant with me,” you replied, focusing on keeping your voice level, rather than on the fact that he’d just given your necklace to his girlfriend.

George felt himself get angry as he noticed yours and Fred’s intertwined hands, swallowing harshly and shoving his hands into his trouser pockets.

“You know I’ve been trying to impress Kiara, being in a relationship takes up time. Not that you’d know, but I thought you’d understand. Didn’t think you’d replace me that quickly,” George retaliated in the midst of his anger, only being able to focus on you and Fred, and how close you were.

“Replaced you?” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “You barely even say hello to me! So yes, I turned to a friend so I wasn’t alone. You’re the one who replaced me! And you gave her the necklace, George. The necklace you knew I wanted. You gave it to her.”

Not waiting for a response, you shot an apologetic glance towards Fred before rushing out of the Hall, suddenly needing some fresh air.

“Look what you did now!” Fred almost growled, before storming out after you, in an attempt to find you.

George took a shaky breath, cursing as he watched the two most important people to him leave.

“George?” A soft voice spoke from beside him.

“Kiara?”

The brunette girl smiled, pressing her lips together as she looked at the ginger, “I um... I think we should break up.”

George frowned, though he was surprised to find he didn’t feel too badly about what she’d said.

The girl held out a black box and placed it into George’s hands, “This should be hers. It’s more her style than mine, I think you know that too.”

The redhead hesitated, unsure of what to say in this situation, “Look, Kiara, I’m sorry-“

“She likes you,” Kiara interrupted him, grinning despite the situation.

“She doesn’t-“

“She does. And you like her. Now go find her.”

With one last hug, and another muttered apology, he nodded determinedly at her, and ran off in the direction of his brother and, he realised now, the girl he truly loved.

***

“Y/n! Wait up!”

You span round on your heels, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen, “I said I’m fine, Fred! Okay? I’m fine. Absolutely fabulous, in fact.”

Fred stopped in front of you, a shimmer of pity in his brown eyes that made you feel even worse than you already did, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I-I’m sorry-“

“It’s okay, I promise. It was always bound to happen right? I was always destined to fall for him, whilst he fell for her. Even if you hadn’t said anything, I would’ve realised. I’m- I’m so stupid, aren’t I? Falling for my best friend,” you let out a broken sob.

“You’re not stupid.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and you swallowed back another sob as you turned around slowly, your eyes catching George’s gaze.

He stood, hair messy as if he’d raked his hands through it a few too many times, tie askew and shirt almost untucked in his haste to run and find you. He felt his heart clench, knowing he was the one to make you feel like this, and stepped forward reaching a hand out towards you as you blinked back tears, allowing him to bring you into his arms as you finally let the tears fall.

You knew you shouldn’t, that you should leave to your dorm, but being in George’s arms had always made you feel safe, made you feel protected.

More tears fell as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, muttering over and over again how sorry he was. How he was a fool, a git, a complete idiot.

You finally calmed down a little, looking around the empty hallway, not being sure exactly when Fred had disappeared but thankful for the privacy.

You wiped away the last of your tears, cursing mentally as you realise your makeup would be a mess - if the state of George’s shirt was anything to go by.

“Kiara told me you like- I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he breathed out, a hand cupping your cheek as you blinked up at him.

“Yeah well, you’re stupid. I always knew you were stupid,” you replied with a sad laugh.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked with a frown, his hands moving to hold your waist.

“You never asked. And then you-you got a girlfriend. What was I supposed to do?” You asked quietly.

“I’m in love with you,” George said suddenly, earnestly, genuinely as he held you against him.

“Not Kiara?”

He shook his head quickly, “She knew I liked you before I knew I liked you. Maybe I am stupid.”

“Maybe you are,” you let out a watery laugh, looking away from his gaze.

George suddenly reached into his pocket and brought out a familiar box, “This is yours. I don’t know what I was thinking, giving it to her. It’s yours - it’s always been yours.”

He opened the box, taking out the necklace you loved so much, and offering you a sheepish smile, “It’s not a good enough apology, I know. But I’m hoping it’s a start.”

He gently turned you around, placing the necklace around your neck, you shivering at the feel of his fingers brushing against your skin, before turning you back around to face him, this time much closer than before, his forehead resting against yours.

“So, and correct me if I’m wrong,” he spoke as he leant forward a little more, his lips almost touching yours, “Does this mean that I like you and you like me and we both don’t think of each other as friends?”

You nodded a little, offering him a soft smile, “I don’t want to be friends, George,” you whispered just as his lips brushed your own, “I wanna be yours.”

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley

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kiri-ah · 3 years

Text

Something To Sink My Teeth Into || she/her pronouns version

Themes: Supernatural AU, Vampire AU, strangers to lovers, angst and fluff (so much fluff), something similar to those symbiotes from Venom and Hanahaki disease combined, interplanar travel, Jaemin and the reader are oblivious and Chenle gets mad about it, long conversations about vampires, vampires can't cry

Pairing: Vampire!Jaemin x Female Human!reader

Warnings: mentions of blood (minor), mentions of eating (human food and vampire food), character death, Chenle is kind of a butthole, in depth conversations about humans and vampires which include biting and blood drinking, Yuta's house gets set on fire

Word Count: 26.4k

Taglist: @bluejaem, @heyyyun, @generantionct (untaggable), @stayctday, @kunrengui, @allegxdly, @leetaeyonglover, @koishua, @choppedupcactus, @hyuckworld, @alexameliamg, @notbeforelong, @jaemotel

Summary: A trip to Poland goes terribly wrong - or maybe terribly right - when you're bitten and kidnapped by a vampire. Between passing out, almost dying multiple times, and falling in love, you have a lot on your plate. Oh, and the magic. Right. Teaser here.

A/N: This is so much longer than it was meant to be... *sigh*

This has only been edited by myself and a friend of mine, please excuse any errors. I worked hard to make the best experience possible. For that reason, please note that this is the !she/her pronouns version! He/him pronouns may be found here, they/them pronouns here. Please enjoy!

You were on holiday in Krakow, Poland. For your twenty first birthday, your parents had gifted you a weeklong trip over Spring Break, and you had been having the time of your life. You had found Krakow rich in historical influence - it had been the capital of Poland until 1596 and still had remnants of the past, like a Renaissance-era trading post and sections of the medieval walls that surrounded the city. Plus, the section of the city that you were staying in was very close to the city center, where you discovered aforementioned trading post, called the Cloth Hall, and an old cathedral named St. Mary’s Basilica.

The first night of your stay, Sunday night, you had struggled to sleep, because of the time difference and the excitement of arriving. You stayed in Monday morning, trying to at least rest a bit, and then ventured out to the nearest coffee shop when that didn’t alleviate your sleepiness. The barista had whipped up your favorite pick-me-up morning drink, and you went to sit outside in the fresh air, surveying the plaza over the rim of your cup. It was just the right time of year, you thought, because it was nice and warm without being too hot, just how you liked it. The sun had started to rise about the buildings around you, illuminating certain structures and giving them an unearthly glow.

When you finished your drink, you put the cup into the collection bin and walked back out onto the main square, just enjoying the sun on your face (over the sunglasses you had bought in the airport after forgetting to pack yours) and letting the warmth sink through your limbs after the tired night. One of the unfortunate things about the time of year you had travelled was the tourists. There were families and older couples and people your age taking trips with their friends, and most everyone stayed right where you were staying as well: right in the heart of the city. To avoid as many crowds as possible, you had booked a tour of St. Mary’s Basilica for Thursday morning, and reserved entry to the underground museum for this afternoon.

Tomorrow you planned to go and see Grodzka Street, where you were going to try and find a souvenir. In the same neighborhood was an ancient church called St. Andrew’s Church, which dated back to around 1079. On Wednesday, you were going to brave the crowds of people in the Cloth Hall for the same purpose, and also because it was a historical landmark that you just needed to explore. Wednesday afternoon was blocked out to be a rest period, as was Thursday morning. Then on Friday you were planning to go and see the Wawel Castle and Cathedral. From there you would explore the various attractions on the property, and then return to the plaza later to eat. That afternoon, you planned to go to the Jewish cemetery. Saturday was blocked out for a trip to Auschwitz-Birkenau, which was a Nazi concentration camp and a Holocaust memorial out of the main town. When you returned to the hotel late that afternoon you would pack and get ready for your flight Sunday morning. It was going to be a very full and very fun week. Or at least you hoped it would be fun.

You explored the main square a little bit that first day and unpacked your things, making sure you had everything you needed for your trip and you didn’t need to walk to one of the convenience stores nearby.

The days passed quickly, and you finished each one completely satisfied. Everything and everyone here was so wonderful and you started to wonder how you had never heard of this place before this trip. It was absolutely one of the best places your parents could have picked.

On Friday morning you got up bright and early (well, actually, it was dark and early) to go to the Wawel Castle. You had heard from a travelling site that tickets sold out fast and it was important to get there early in the day, and you tried to heed that warning. At 7am when you arrived it was already busy, but thankfully not so much that the lines were too long. You wandered through the small exhibits and around the grounds. It was a bit more chilly today and you wrapped a scarf around your neck as you shivered, trying to find a less windy spot to hide out for a second. You found a little spot where you could take a moment and recharge your inner heater and were doing just that, burrowing into your small scarf mountain, when you realized that a person stood next to you. You looked up through your lashes at them and caught your breath - holy cow he had good genes. He had a sharp, sloping jawline that stopped at a chin less pointy than you had expected. His lips were plush and round, although he needed some chapstick. His hair was pushed around by the wind but despite that he looked, well, amazing. Sections were bleached, giving his hair an almost halo-esque look. His nostrils contracted as he inhaled and then his eyes cut down to yours, dark and deep and was that eyeliner?

He smiled then, a smirk that seemed far too self-assured for the situation, and leaned over towards your exposed ear. “I can feel you staring, sweetheart,” he murmured. The top of your ear, which had been feeling rather numb, flamed hot at his words. It almost hurt, the sudden jump into heat. You turned towards him fully, only eyes exposed by the scarf mountain. Your hair whipped around as the wind shifted again, but he didn’t seem cold, although he was in only a pair of black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black jacket. The jacket caught your attention for a second - it was studded with thousands of little rhinestones, like a varsity jacket gone shiny. Then he shifted closer into your space and you were forced to look back at his eyes, glittering in a way that seemed almost predatory. You sucked in a breath through your mouth and started to back away.

“S-sorry,” your breath came out in a whisper. Nobody seemed to notice your interaction. “I didn’t see you there, I’ll just leave.” You turned to go before his hand, surprisingly strong, clamped around your arm and pulled you back into his chest.

His voice came out in a growl as he blocked your scream with his other hand. “I am far, far too hungry for you to leave right now, precious.” The strength in your legs seemed to dissipate at his tone, you knew you needed to defend yourself, but ‘hungry’? What was that about? And precious? The hand wrapped around your arm let go and started unwrapping your scarf, exposing your face to both him and the frigid wind. He started to lean down, and you pressed your lips together tightly. At the very least, he wasn’t getting in your mouth. You may have lost the strength in your legs, but not in your will. Then he bypassed your mouth and leaned into your neck, inhaling and causing cold air to course along the column of your throat. He chuckled when you shivered, then bit into your neck.

The pain was overwhelming, you could feel each individual blood cell crying out, every organ protesting, your head started to pound with it. It hurt far more than even a dog bite should. It hurt like a shot at the doctor going on and on, echoing through your body and you were powerless to stop it. The pain flared in your neck and your brain seemed to slow down as the blood flowed away from it and into his mouth. You crumbled into him, and without detaching from your throat, he scooped you up into his arms, holding you there to be his personal bloodbag. You had long since stopped trying to scream, it was too difficult, too much effort.

Vampires, your thoughts whispered, before the pain covered you and you passed out, collapsing completely.

☽༓☾

You woke up in a... cozy cottage? There wasn’t any sign of your attacker and, in fact, no sign of anything vampire esque either. You looked around the single room at the soft fabric couch (covered in boho style throw pillows), the kitchenette (complete with pre packed food), and the window, through which you could see a combination flower and vegetable garden. There were two doors off of the room you were in, one that led towards the lush green outside, and one that must have concealed the bathroom.

The moment you realized this, you also realized that you really needed to use said bathroom, and struggled to plant your bare feet on the floor. Your legs didn't want to hold your weight, and you crumbled to the rug with a whine. Two seconds later, the door to the outside opened with a swish of fresh air and there, outlined by the sun, stood the most gorgeous person you had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. When he saw you on the floor, he groaned and ran a hand through his pink hair. "Shit, I'm so sorry, let me help you!" He ran over and you allowed him to half carry you into the bathroom. It wasn’t like you had any strength to protest, and he seemed nice. He smelled like sunshine on fresh earth.

Once you had finished using the toilet you tried to stand up again, now that you at least had some semblance of strength in your legs. After a few tries you were able to support yourself against the bathroom counter, with more than half of your weight against the frigid tiles. Your legs shook as you started standing more straight up, and you made a high pitched keening sound that you didn’t even know you could make; the man’s worried voice came through the door. His voice was higher and slightly panicked.

“Are you okay? Do you need help? Are you hurting too much?”

Your voice, which you hadn’t managed to make work properly, came out lower than usual and scratchy. A portion of your throat ached as you tried to make the sounds audibly. “Yeah,” you rasped out. “I can’t stand up properly.”

“Do you need me to come and help?” There was something about his voice that just made you want to trust him. It was soft but strong and even though he had toned down the panic, it still had soft tremors of worry running through it.

You thought about it for a second and considered yourself in the mirror. You looked, quite frankly, horrible. Your hair was a mess (more than usual), your eye bags were sagging unnaturally, and your eyes themselves were dull. You did look like you needed help. You sighed. “Sure.”

A moment later he opened the door slowly and stepped into the space with you, putting one arm around your waist to help support you. You relaxed some of your weight onto him and closed your eyes briefly. It would have been a wholly relaxing moment if not for your stomach. It grumbled up at you and you thought for a moment that it sounded like an angry octopus trapped inside of you. Then you blinked to clear the thought away as the man laughed. It was deeper than you expected from a man with pink cotton-candy colored hair, a low chuckle that rumbled through his body and, in turn, yours. You shook against him slightly with the movement and his other arm came to help you lean more against his body. He was stronger than you expected and you could feel the muscles in his arms shift as he reoriented himself.

“Let’s get you some food,” he said, smiling. “Unfortunately I’m not sure I’ll have much you’ll like.” You just nodded. Your throat was still throbbing uncomfortably where you were bitten and you weren’t sure you had the energy to even debate his statement. You were sure you would eat whatever he gave you. He led you into the main room again and helped you settle onto the couch. He walked over to the kitchenette and picked up a can of soup, then walked back to you to verify it was a kind that you liked. Once you had approved it, he went back and put it in a pot on the electric stove, starting to heat it up. As he stood over it, you had some time to think as you sat on the couch. The first thing you realized was that you still didn’t know what his name was, which was an issue. You couldn’t thank him properly without knowing his name. The second thing you realized was that you didn’t know where you were, exactly. The third was that you had probably missed your flight back home and your parents were going to murder you for it when you eventually got back. You shifted so you were more comfortable before trying to speak again. You started with the easiest vocal warmup you remembered and the man looked over at you with eyebrows raised.

“You good?” he asked. You nodded in response, hoping that your throat would relax and stop throbbing.

“Yeah, I think so,” you told him. “The side of my neck really aches where that man bit me.” His eyebrows furrowed at this and you thought maybe you just imagined it, that nobody actually bit you, but the pain was real enough in that moment and it was certainly real enough when he bit you. “Also,” you continued, “I still don’t know what your name is.” He seemed to think about this for a moment.

“I’m Jaemin Na,” he said eventually. “This is my house. And I think maybe we need to take a closer look at your bite, I didn’t realize it still hurt. Usually the throbbing goes away after a day or two.” You found yourself nodding along before his words sank in.

“Okay, uh, nice to actually know who you are now. I’m Y/N,” you said. There were suddenly many more questions floating around your brain. Usually he had said, which meant he had dealt with vampire bitten people before. How? Was he one? Why weren’t you a vampire? And how long had you been asleep for? They circled around your head like a dog chasing its tail until you realized that Jaemin was in front of you. It seemed like he was waiting for you to say something.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “What was that?”

“I said we have all the time in the world for you to ask me the questions I know you must have. Don’t psych yourself out. You’re safe.” Despite the fact that you knew next to nothing about him you found yourself once again trusting him without reason. He just seemed like a genuinely nice person, someone you could believe to tell you nothing but the truth.

“Okay,” you agreed, and it came out like a sigh. Your throat gave a particularly unpleasant throb and you unconsciously brought a hand up to rub at it. Jaemin’s hand fastened around your wrist and pulled it away, looking closely at your skin. He sighed.

“You’ve probably figured out by now that the man who bit you was a vampire. If you haven’t, have your moment of denial now.” You just looked back at him, surprised.

“Denial?”

“Yeah. Usually when humans find out about vampires for the first time they aren’t very accepting of it. I’ve had to replace my windows a few times from thrown objects.” You almost laughed before realizing that he was serious.

“Okay, well, I already got that, so go ahead,” you prompted.

“Great!” His eyes got just a little bit less heavy with your statement and he continued, “contrary to popular belief, vampires don’t actually turn humans all that often. If we had that little self control the whole population would be dead or turned already.” You noted his use of the word we and shuddered a little. He could attack you too? He seemed so gentle.

For the first time you noticed your soup in a bowl on the coffee table. Jaemin reclaimed your attention by speaking again. “We’re also pretty good at choosing who to bite, and when. We’re not heartless. We try to choose people with good metabolisms so that we can return them to Earth quickly.” At this you inhaled so sharply that he paused, looking over at you.

“We aren’t on Earth anymore?” you asked shakily. He shook his head with a quirk of his lips. That distracted you enough to calm down for a moment. He really was a gorgeous person. Was the word person still applicable to vampires? You didn’t know. He sucked you out of your thoughts again with a hand waved in front of you.

“No, we’re not on Earth. Where we are… it’s like a parallel plane of existence. Vampires can live here, do live here, in bigger bunches than we can on Earth. We call it ‘Vahmpyr.’ I always thought that was a really unoriginal name, but I was turned after it was discovered so I didn’t have much of a say. It would be like you trying to rename Earth.” He picked up your bowl of soup and stirred it around, handing it to you, before continuing.

“This is my vacation house of sorts, where I nurse humans who have been bitten back to their healthy selves. Generally we vampires try to keep one certified nurse or doctor in each coven just in case, more if the coven is large. It’s a handy skill to have. Especially if you happen to have parts of your coven who are as chaotic as ours.” He looked over at you and smiled wryly before adding, “I didn’t poison the soup, you know.” You looked down at your lap where the warm bowl sat and laughed under your breath before picking up the spoon and taking a bite. It was delicious. You flashed him a thumbs up with your mouth full and he smiled brightly again.

Once you had swallowed you asked, “how can you bite humans and not turn them? I didn’t know it was possible to not turn us.” He nodded like he was expecting this question.

“It’s kind of a strange feeling,” he told you. “Biting, I mean. It’s not like the human feeling of biting into a piece of meat. It’s just… it’s amazing. It’s like cold fruit on a summer’s day, hot chocolate while snow falls. It’s at once a feeling of absolute power and absolute devotion because tasting a human’s blood puts them above everything else, at least for a few moments. At the same time you’re aware that their body is falling apart and right into you. It’s intoxicating. Every once in a while you’ll bite someone that just tastes extraordinarily good, or meet someone with a unique and, pardon my language, delicious, smell. Then your body sort of automatically realizes you want them to stick around and releases the venom.”

“So,” you said, interested by his version of vampires, “if you bit me right now, I’d be fine?”

His eyes sparked with something new. Anger, you thought, or something close to it. “I just spent four days nursing you back to health and you want me to bite you just to see what happens?” he asked incredulously.

“No! I was just confirming. I’m sorry,” you murmured, and shoved another bite of the soup into your mouth for good measure. He sighed.

“I’m sorry too, it feels so easy to talk to you. I forget that you’re new to this.” You choked on your soup while he and he hurriedly patted your back as you regained your breath. “Are you alright?”

“Did you say you spent four days nursing me back to health?” you asked, head spinning. Four days. Four days. Four days. “I’ve been missing from Earth for four days?”

He deliberated for a moment. “Yes, and no. You’ve been off of Earth for four days, yes, but you aren’t missing.” You raised an eyebrow in response and he hurried to explain more. “I mean, obviously you’re here, and yes, you’ve been here for four days, asleep, recovering from Jisung’s bite. On the other hand, there’s still a you on Earth right now. That’s the interesting thing about Vahmpyr. We can bring humans back, with some effort, and while they’re here, a version of them is still on Earth. It’s still you. And if you go back, from what I understand, you get your other half’s memories back, like you never left. It’s quite the phenomenon.” He seemed completely serious and you were inclined to believe him, but this was insanity. Another you, a perfect copy, walking around on Earth while you hung out with the vampires in their parallel plane? You pinched yourself. It hurt, and you winced. Jaemin looked at you with this horrible understanding glimmer in his eyes like he was saying I know how this is. It’s weird and unimaginable but it’s here. Please don’t break any of my things.

Eventually you just kept sitting and looked back at him. “This really is good soup,” you said. He looked at you in surprise before bursting out laughing, face lighting up like the horizon at sunrise.

“You’re not going to attack me?” he asked between chuckles. “That’s the normal response. And thank you, that’s my favorite kind of soup too.” You shook your head, smiling back at him.

“I decided that there’s no changing it even if this is just a fever dream induced by an infected human,” you explained to him. “And wait, can you actually eat still? Like stuff besides blood?” In response he ran over to the small kitchen and grabbed a spoon of his own, dipping it into the bowl and moving it to his mouth. When he was done he smiled at you.

“I can still eat human foods. Nothing is as good as blood, of course, but I can still enjoy it. It’s just dulled by the transformation. And I’m glad that’s the stance you take on being transported to a different plane, I’ve known humans to react rather badly.” He took a moment to think. “For example, there was a woman who was convinced we had sexually assaulted her, which is a fair thought, but she wouldn’t let me explain anything to her. She ran outside as soon as her legs were strong enough and ran right into Lucas. He’s a really big guy, wide and tall and strong and such. She was so terrified she ran into my bathroom and I had to give her the spiel from through the door. Not the finest of interactions.” In spite of yourself you laughed. You could imagine the woman’s fear, especially if this Lucas was as infuriatingly gorgeous as Jaemin and the man who had bit you. You probably should’ve felt the same way, but something about Jaemin was just relaxing, and you felt safe with him.

“I get it,” you told Jaemin. “All of you guys; the guy who bit me - what did you say his name was? Jisung? Yeah, him. Jisung and you and probably Lucas, you all look like models which I guess goes with the vampire narrative, but it’s a little shocking since I’ve never seen someone so good looking. It’s nearly scary.” You looked back up to see Jaemin looking surprised.

“You think we’re good looking? Even after you got bitten by one, abducted by another, and have only heard of the third in a story about someone running away screaming?”

You shrugged. “All of that doesn’t change the facts. You’re still some pretty perfect looking human beings.” A moment later you realized what you had said and wrinkled your nose. “Sorry, uh, creatures. Is that offensive?” Jaemin laughed again and wow you could get addicted to that laugh. It was so carefree. You supposed that came with immortality.

“Technically ‘creatures’ is more accurate but isn’t very nice-sounding, even if we are unnatural monsters.” He said this as though he had come to terms with it. Even if we are unnatural monsters.

“I don’t think you’re unnatural,” you told him. “I mean, if there is a higher power out there then He or It or They created a whole plane for you and if not then nature did. I don’t think Vahmpyr would exist if you were unnatural.” He looked at you without speaking as you took another spoonful of soup.

“That’s… that’s a new way of looking at it.” He looked conflicted, like he was trying to reconcile your view of him with his view of himself. “I don’t think our plane was meant to exist though, by higher power or nature. Humans are beautiful because they age and there is room for change within your society. It’s hard to change an entire plane full of the unchanging.”

“Maybe so,” you argued, “but you’re obviously gorgeous on the outside, and on the inside it seems like you have a good system too. If I was a vampire I don’t think I’d take care of the humans I had bitten. It wouldn’t have occurred to me. They would all die. I would be dead, come to think of it.”

“That’s true,” he conceded. “You really do have a unique view of things.”

“Thank you?” It came out sounding more like a question than you intended. You finished your bowl of soup, licking the excess off of your upper lip. Setting the bowl back down seemed to break whatever spell had kept you in eager conversation with him. You supposed all of your questions had been answered, for now. Jaemin helped you get set up with Netflix on his TV and went back outside to his garden. He explained that you could call for him through the open window if you needed him, he would be right nearby. You nodded, already distracted by the opening scene of your show.

After a while you realized that there were low voices coming from outside. It sounded like Jaemin was talking to someone. You turned the volume down on the TV a little bit to listen. Maybe you could meet the infamous Lucas or someone else in Jaemin’s vampire family.

“... have to bring her to me?” Jaemin was saying. “You tasted her, you know her scent. This is painful. Her scent is all over my things, my bed.” He let out a small groan and the other man with him chuckled breathily.

“Hyung, I didn’t mean for her to smell so good I swear, it was a spur of the moment decision. I was hunting in her area and her scent was so enticing. Plus, I was hungry!” You shuddered at the mention of hunting. This one, who must be Jisung, was far less civilized than Jaemin, it seemed.

Jaemin made an angry noise and his words hissed out when he spoke. “You think it was enticing out in the open air of Poland? On a windy day? I’ve been smelling her acutely on my things, in my house, for four days and it hurts. My venom has been going non-stop for the entire period and it’s not like I can just change her, she’s got a life ahead of her!” Part of your heart went out to Jaemin - he was trying so hard to take care of you and even caused himself pain for it. That explained why he had reacted so negatively when you asked what would happen if he bit you. You wouldn’t have been fine. You would’ve become like him. The thought didn’t cause the anger or disgust you thought it should have. It sounded nice, almost, to be like him. To stay in his safety for eternity.

“Jaemin,” said a new voice. It was strong and rough like tree bark lined his throat. “You can return her back to the real world in just a few more days and you’ll be free of her. It’s not like she would want to stay here anyway, her friends and family are back on Earth. We can keep Jisung home and have him feed on Chenle until he learns his lesson.”

Someone, presumably Jisung, made a wounded noise. “I can control myself, I promise. Don’t make me feed on Chenle, Hyung, he doesn’t taste anywhere near as good.” Definitely Jisung.

“Jisung,” said Jaemin’s voice. “Don’t argue, you brought this on yourself. And me,” he adds as an afterthought.

Jisung’s sullen voice responded, “fine, Hyung, but Chenle isn’t going to be happy either, you know.” You thought maybe Jaemin must have nodded or something because nobody said anything for a while. You turned off the TV, suddenly bored with the program and head full of new questions. The top one on the list was why. Why did you affect them this way? Why did Jaemin treat you so nicely when you were hurting him? Why did Jisung sound like a puppy who had been reprimanded? Why did Jaemin and the other man have the power to ground him, essentially? Then there were the who questions. Who was the man with the voice like tree bark? Who was Chenle, and why wouldn’t he be happy? Lastly were the when questions. When would you be going home? When would you see them again? Would you see them ever again? When would Jisung be allowed to hunt again?

You were so deep in your head that you didn’t notice the door opening and Jaemin coming in, two men behind him, until he stopped and waved a hand in front of you.

“Y/N, you okay? I brought you some people to meet.” He stepped back and you forced your eyes to refocus on what was in front of you. When you looked up at him, he presented the two other guys like he was a car salesman and these were his favorite models. “This is Jisung, you’ve met him already although I don’t know if you remember him.” You nodded, looking over him. He had on a grey crewneck sweatshirt over a pair of black sweatpants today and looked far less terrifyingly beautiful flanked by his hyungs.

“I remember him,” you told them. “You’re the one who bit me.” You didn’t think it was possible for him to look more sheepish than he already did but he managed to, and shrank back so that he was standing half-behind the other man. The other guy had bleached hair falling messily over his forehead, and even though he was shorter than Jisung, he seemed to command your attention more. He had on a green sleeveless shirt that showed off arms rippling with muscles. You gulped, looking up at him, but then he smiled at you. His whole demeanor changed. He felt less like he was about to kill you and more like he might accidentally strangle you to death in a hug. His eyes scrunched up into little crescents and you found yourself smiling back.

“I’m Jeno,” he said, walking forward to shake your hand. “Sorry I didn’t come to visit earlier.” His voice still sounded like bark lined his throat, but less so now that he wasn’t bothering to limit his volume.

“That’s fine,” you replied. “I just woke up earlier today.” You glanced towards Jaemin; he looked like a proud mom watching you interact with his friend. “Jaemin fed me, and since then I’ve just been sitting here watching TV. I can’t find my phone, and even if I did I’m not sure I could walk over to it. My legs are out of practice.”

Jeno smiled again. “That’s pretty common for Jisung’s victims. We found out he has these little back teeth that make it more painful for the people he bites so they usually need more bed rest to recover from the strain on their bodies and the blood loss.”

You nodded, as though that made sense. They still let Jisung hunt with his unpredictability and extra teeth? That seemed a little irresponsible of them, but you supposed that Jeno and Jaemin weren’t that much older than him in the first place. You tried to bring up your next subject subtly.

“Speaking of recovery, when do you think I’ll be going back to Earth?” The change in the room was immediate. Jeno’s smile faltered enough for you to see his eyes, Jaemin’s shoulders slumped, and Jisung’s foot started tapping against the rug. “It’s not that I don’t like it here,” you interjected, “I'm just worried that my, uh, double self will get up to trouble and stuff. What if someone notices it’s not me?”

Jisung looked at Jaemin. “You either did a really bad job of explaining this or she wasn't listening, Hyung.” Jaemin glared at him in response and chose not to dignify the statement with an answer. Jisung huffed at him and turned to you. “It’s you, y’know, back on Earth. Like… when a starfish gets cut in half, both halves grow into full starfish again. Something similar happened to you. Same organism, same you, just two different places. Is that a weird comparison?”

“What he means,” interjected Jeno before you could reply, “is that the you down there has all of your experiences and memories and the same brain. It’s the exact same person as you, just two versions of you. When you go back you won't even have a bite scar.” At this you lifted your hand to rub at the mark on your throat. You saw Jisung’s eyes follow the action and he licked his lips. You put your arm back down into your lap and swallowed, the sound echoing in your head.

Finally Jaemin spoke. “And to answer your question, as soon as we get you strong enough to walk on your own you can go back. I mean technically there’s a body waiting for you down there, but we don’t know what would happen if we sent you back faulty, so we like to be careful.” You laughed at his use of the word faulty and nodded.

“Okay. Do you guys have a portal or something that’ll take me back?” At this all three men burst into laughter and a high pitched squeal joined the mix, coming from the doorway. Yet another man was standing there, thin orange-dyed hair flopping as he doubled over laughing.

“A- a portal,” he wheezed out between laughs. “No, we don’t have a portal.” You threw him a disgruntled look.

“I was just asking…”

Jaemin looked equally off-put and said, “Y/N, this is Chenle, Jisung’s best friend and our second child. Sorry about his lack of a filter.” His lips pursed unhappily and you rushed to reassure him.

“No, that’s okay, I don’t know if that was stupid question. No feelings hurt, he’s fine.” Jaemin looked unconvinced, so you sat up more towards Chenle and reached out a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh is that your name?” he replied breezily, shaking your hand quickly. “They were right, you do smell good.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jaemin shift protectively.

“Chenle.” His voice came out a growl, raising hairs on the back of your neck. “Don’t you dare.” It was interesting, you thought, how this dynamic worked. From what you had heard with Jisung, Jaemin had always contained himself, like he was reprimanding his favorite child. With Chenle he seemed almost dangerous, like it was possible for him to hurt a fly, and things much bigger than a fly. You wondered if he was this way with all of his patients, or if Chenle just bothered him more with you than usual.

“I’m not going to, mom, chill out a moment.” Chenle, you decided, must be the bad egg of their group. Every family had at least one, and here was theirs. He seemed the most likely to hurt something for the fun of it, and it almost seemed like he should have been the one to attack you, not Jisung. You wondered, in the distant back of your head, whether he had extra teeth for biting like Jisung did. Maybe it was better not to find out.

“Please don’t call me mom,” Jaemin sighed in response, all of the fight leaving him a rush. His muscles were still tense, though, and he ran a hand through his cotton candy colored hair.

“Chenle,” said Jeno, “I think you and Jisung should go talk. He has news for you.” Jisung shuddered slightly, his nod small and tense. You remembered his reaction earlier, when he had been informed that he needed to feed from Chenle for the time being. Chenle looked between Jisung and Jeno and an expression appeared on his face that didn’t seem natural on him - uncomfortable confusion. What you had seen in this past tension filled minute was that he was self assured and rambunctious. Now you wondered if he respected Jeno, regardless of that. You supposed you didn’t really have time to find out, you would be going home as soon as you could walk on your own. Speaking of which-

“I need to use the bathroom again,” you said as Jisung walked out of the house with Chenle right behind him.

“You should try getting up on your own,” Jeno suggested. “The more you sit around the harder it’ll be for your legs to get strong again.” You nodded and used the arm of the couch to haul yourself to your feet. Your knees started shaking again and Jaemin hurried to support you a little, until you felt a little more steady on your feet. Once you did, you tentatively took a tiny step towards the bathroom. Your arms flew out to your sides to help with balance and Jaemin took the mother bird stance, worriedly standing within arm’s length to catch you if you started to collapse. Jeno watched from a few paces away and smiled at you.

“Let’s see if you can get to me, okay? Then we can help if you need support.” You nodded and gritted your teeth, shuffling forward on your weak legs slowly. The good news: you made it to him without falling or using Jaemin’s ever-there assistance. The not so good news: you practically fell into Jeno when you got to him, using his body for support. He helped you find your center of gravity again before acting as a crutch to get you to the bathroom.

“If you need anything,” Jaemin told you, “I’ll be right out here. Don’t over-exert yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s just like one step to the toilet, and there’s a nice strong counter” you assured him, and closed the door behind you as you stepped away from Jeno’s warm strength. Immediately you felt weak again but you reached out to hold on to the edge of the counter while you walked and got safely to the toilet. Your legs screeched at you as you lowered yourself onto the seat and you relaxed a little bit once you were seated. Recovery was going to be hard.

☽༓☾

Two days passed in a blur of pain and people. You met quite a few new people, like the infamous Lucas (who was a giant baby and who adored you), a woman named Joy who had actual red eyes like the legends said, and a man that everyone called Ten. Actually, you weren’t sure if Ten counted as a man. He dropped by Jaemin’s house the third day, right after Jisung and Chenle had just left after getting some flowers from Jaemin’s garden. He walked in on tentacles, long and thick ones that wrapped around the door frame and curled and uncurled as he talked. He muttered something about wishing they would just admit they were gay and asked Jaemin if he happened to have clams. Jaemin, looking amused, supplied him with an entire bucket of the little creatures. Ten gave him a jar in response and flounced out the door without even looking at you.

“Jaemin,” you asked, “what, or who, was that?” Jaemin laughed happily and the sound was so perfect that you wished he would just keep laughing forever.

“Ten is kind of unique,” Jaemin said. “Obviously, he’s got tentacles, which is unusual, and then he’s also not a vampire so none of us can quite figure out how he can get here, to Vahmpyr. But he can see the future, sort of, which is pretty helpful sometimes. Warns us when we’re getting too active and need to be careful of humans. He’s also convinced that Chenle and Jisung are gay and that they just need some guidance.”

You couldn’t decide on a question to ask about these revelations, so you settled for a very intelligent sounding “huh,” and continued your walking around the house. You were doing a lot better now with your exercises and had been able to make it around the room without holding onto anything for support four times now. Jaemin laughed again and you felt yourself actually flinch from the force of his happiness. It was addicting, almost. He went back to his Gaelic scrolls, which he was translating for a man called Kun, who you had yet to meet.

You had a sudden thought and you found yourself needing to talk, to explain about the other day. “Jaemin,” you said, dropping into the seat across from him at the table with a low groan. “The other day when Jisung and Jeno came, you guys were talking outside, you know?” He looked up from the scrolls, giving you a raised eyebrow like ‘so?’

“So I may or may not have listened to your conversation,” you told him, watching as he gave you his full attention, clicking his pen closed and rolling up the scrolls gently. He didn’t look angry, exactly, more apprehensive than anything. Like he was back to worrying about you throwing things and breaking his windows.

“And?” he prompted, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them you saw something strange there, like fear. But certainly the immortal and beautiful Jaemin couldn’t be scared of you. You must’ve been interpreting it wrong.

“Well you guys were talking about my smell,” you started slowly. “And, uh, you said that you- that I was causing you pain. And I was just wondering, why keep me around? Why not take me to a human hospital, or just kill me? Or turn me? Why did you make yourself suffer?”

He inhaled deeply and then shivered a little bit. When he spoke, his voice was soft and a little scratchy. “For one, we’ve never had a case like this before. I mean obviously there have been people who have smelled good to me before, but usually I’m able to ignore it. With you… it’s like my vampire body can’t get enough of your scent. It wants to turn you, to keep you, in its selfishness. That part of me is weak, in its greed. And of course I couldn’t kill you, I could barely control myself when Chenle- when he-” Jaemin took a deep breath to steady himself. “He wanted to bite you. You smell good to our whole coven, to everyone who’s met you, at least, which is a first. Thankfully you don’t appeal to Jisung the same way you do to me though, because by now you’d be a full fledged member of the family. Jeno is really good at hiding it, but I could tell he wanted to drink from you too, when you used him to help you walk the other day. I think the only ones not affected by it are Lucas and Ten, although that could be because they’re both gay, I’m not sure.” As an afterthought, he added, “actually Lucas is demisexual but I’ve only ever seen him date guys.”

Skipping over the bit about Lucas’ sexuality, you spoke, horrified. “I’ve been hurting all of you? Seriously, why not just make me go to a regular hospital on Earth?”

“Well it would be a little hard to just give you to a hospital on Earth and be like, ‘here, take this body which may or may not have a vampire bite in its neck,’” Jaemin told you. “And also because I haven’t given up on a patient yet, and I didn’t want the first to be because I can’t control myself. And as to why I didn’t turn you… I didn’t want to take your life away. I still don’t. I think your life is going to be a good one and I don’t want to steal that. That’s why you’re going back tomorrow.”

An empty feeling settled in your chest. “You’re sending me back tomorrow? I still haven’t met so many of your friends though!”

He leveled you with a stare. “The rest of my patients never got to meet any other members of the coven. This was a one and done. You don’t need to know the rest of them. Especially not Yuta or Hyuck, good gracious.”

Who are Yuta and Hyuck? you wanted to ask, but his tone implied the end of the conversation, so you refrained from forming the question. “Okay, uh, I’m going to go sit in the garden.”

Jaemin flashed you a barely-there smile, opening his scrolls again and clicking his pen open. “Mhm. Be careful.”

You went out to sit under a tree in his front yard. Actually there were a lot of trees in his front yard - his house was in a forest. He had neglected to mention that when he first told you about his home and you had found it fascinating how it worked. When you walked out, there wasn’t any path out of the small clearing that housed his cottage. When you imagined a person, though, a tree tunnel would open and you could go any which way you wanted. You had tried imagining your parents the first time Jaemin told you about it and it hadn’t worked. He had explained that it only worked for people on this plane of existence, which made sense. When you had imagined Joy, it had shown you a way to a small town. Jaemin had forbidden you to go anywhere without him in case someone got territorial or hungry and killed you by accident. You respected that, you didn’t want to be murdered, but you wanted to see Lucas, and talk to him. He had fun stories to tell of his best friends. Jaemin seemed a bit huffy. It would be fine to go and see him, right? You’d just go and be back quickly before Jaemin even realized you were gone.

You decided that you just needed to talk to a friend right now and focused your mind on Lucas, finding an apartment building on the outskirts of the largest vampire city you had seen so far. With a little more effort you could find his apartment, although you couldn’t see him. The trees opened and you glanced back at Jaemin’s cottage before setting off.

As you walked down the path you reveled in your ability to walk. After two days of walking in short bursts and trying to regain strength in your legs you were finally able to walk like a normal human being, no flailing arms or stops every few meters to take a break and rest your muscles. It was nice, after so little freedom within Jaemin’s one room cabin. You liked being out here better. You avoided tree limbs and roots as you went, always focused on getting to Lucas. At one point your focus switched from his apartment to a convenience store and you panicked, realizing that you couldn’t go there. There, you might actually get murdered like Jaemin had predicted. He hadn’t nursed you back to health and struggled through your scent just for you to go and get yourself killed. You waited, walking more slowly, until the view at the end of the tunnel switched back to Lucas’ apartment’s front door. You breathed out a sigh of relief and continued on your way.

It was fascinating to you how there was no life in the forest besides the plants. You didn’t hear or see any insects or birds and you wondered if that was because they were afraid of the vampires or if they just didn’t exist on this plane. You decided to ask Lucas when you got to his house. After a while you realized that the image at the end of the tree tunnel was no longer a moving image of where you wanted to go, but rather the actual thing, growing bigger as you progressed down the path. You found yourself increasing your pace in your hurry to see Lucas.

When you left the comfort and relative safety of the forest, you nearly ran across the street separating the apartment complex from the trees. You stumbled at one point and almost fell to the pavement but recovered and kept going. You entered the main door and started up the stairs, still hurrying a little faster than your body thought was necessary. You speed walked until you reached the third floor and started looking through the numbers, looking for a door marked with ‘311,’ the one you had seen in the forest while looking for Lucas. After a good few minutes searching, you located the hallway his apartment was in and walked down it, looking at the odd numbers on the right. They counted down from 39, so you had a ways to go. Part of you wondered if the vampires just didn’t care about your presence, because apparently your scent was pretty strong and you were sure that you were stinking up the whole hallway with your human-ness, but nobody had come to murder you yet.

When you finally got to the door labeled with a faded ‘311,’ you stopped to take a breath before knocking on the door. An uncomfortable pause (where you wondered if Lucas was out after all) later, the door opened and you breathed out a sigh of relief, only for the air to stick in your throat at the sight of a man shorter than Lucas, but much scarier.

He had dark brown hair, obviously lightened but only a bit. It fell over his forehead and stopped just short of his eyes. His lips set in a grim line as he looked over you before they pulled back into what should have been a heart stopping smile, but was instead a snarl, a grimace of distrust and anger. The feature that stuck out most to you were his eyes. You imagined that when he was happy, his eyes would glow with an inner light. Now they were dark and they promised violence.

No sooner had you come to this conclusion before he had you pinned against the opposite wall. “Give me one good reason,” he hissed, “why I shouldn’t just kill you.” His arm pressed into your throat, keeping you pinned against the wall, on your tiptoes to accommodate the height of his arm.

Lucas, I came to see Lucas, you tried to say, but it got stuck on the way out of your throat and instead what came out was a weak, “Lu…” followed by a wispy groan. The man furrowed his brow and moved to hold you against the wall by your arms so you could speak. “Lucas,” you gasped, air rushing back into your body and allowing you to speak once more. “Friend.” The man put you completely down now, on the floor, and you moved to massage your throat before his eyes, dark and threatening, halted your movement. Lucas certainly has a knack for choosing friends, you thought.

“Don’t move,” he growled, “Or I’ll throw you out our living room window. It may not kill you, but it will hurt.” Then he turned around slightly and called, “Xuxi! There’s someone here to see you!”

You heard shuffling inside before the figure of Lucas appeared, tall and thick and seeming like safety incarnate in the presence of someone as terrifying as the man who still had one hand next to your head.

“Yang?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”

The man, Yang, shifted so that Lucas could see your face. “This one just came knocking on our door and said he wanted to see you. Do you know her?”

Lucas gasped slightly and sped up, blurring a little, so that he reached you in less than a second. “Oh my gosh, Y/N, are you okay? Yangyang, this is the human that’s been staying with Jaemin for the past week, she’s my friend!”

“Hey Lucas,” you said weakly, finally reaching up to massage your throat now that you had someone to protect you from being thrown out the living room window. “I’m okay, I think. Just a little lightheaded.” Part of you wanted to add, Is his name Yang or Yangyang? but you figured now wasn’t the time to ask.

A strange look crossed Lucas’ face. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright, come inside and sit down, I’ll get you some water.” You followed him into the apartment, Yang (Yangyang?) behind you. He still slightly scared you and you stayed as close to Lucas as possible. Lucas spoke again as he grabbed a water bottle for you. You noted idly that it was Dasani. “But, uh, didn’t Jaemin tell you to, like, not come out here? So you didn’t get murdered? Cause that could’ve ended a lot worse.”

“Not you too!” you cried, exaggerating the syllables. “I know I could’ve died, but I wanted to see my friend! How hard is that to understand? Did it bother you so much that I wanted to see you?”

Lucas figited uncomfortably. “Well I appreciate that you came to see me, that’s really nice of you. It’s just that Jaemin was right. This really isn’t a safe place for you to be. I mean Yangyang could’ve killed you if he didn’t have such a heart of gold.” You threw a disbelieving glance towards the man in question and he shrugged, mouth tugging up in a mischievous grin.

“Okay, I mean, I can go back if you don’t want me here, I have to be back before Jaemin realizes I’m gone anyway,” you said, drinking more of your water. Yangyang and Lucas both froze.

“You didn’t get his permission?” Lucas asked in a tone that confused you. Was he scared of Jaemin? “Or tell him you were going for a walk? Or anything?”

“No, of course not. He would’ve said no!” you protested unhappily. This was not how you imagined this trip going.

“Okay,” Lucas said. “I’m taking you back right now. Jaemin will- well, he won’t kill me, but he’ll be scarily close if he finds out you came here.”

With a heavy sigh, you stood up. You knew that if he needed to, he could just throw you over his shoulder and carry you all the way back to Jaemin’s cottage. Darned vampire strength. “Fine.”

You got down the hallway and into the stairwell before Lucas tensed up again. “Shoot,” he muttered, looking down the stairs below. You couldn’t hear or see anything, and you were about to tell him so when he sighed and you heard a pitter patter like rain, growing louder by the second.

Moments later Jamin appeared in front of you, pink hair mussed and eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger. For a moment he didn’t even speak, just glared at you. The fear faded from his eyes. When he did speak, the words seemed like poison being spit off the tongue of a snake.

“I can’t believe you,” he seethed. “I kept you in my house, fed you, nursed you back to health. I let you use all of my things and was even going to send you home once you were perfectly healthy again. I gave you one rule. One! Just to keep you safe! And you go and break it. You could have died, Y/N, do you understand that? I did everything in my power to keep you in an environment where you weren’t in danger! I didn’t allow Hyuck to come over, I made sure that you were prepared to meet Lucas and Jeno and even Jisung! But all of my efforts faded to nothing when you opened that doorway to the city. I’m taking you home right now, I can’t bear to keep you here any longer, not when you obviously have no sense of self preservation!”

He picked you up before you could even blink and you felt a sharp wind on your face as he ran home. His steps sounded like raindrops falling on pavement, sharp but small, a pinprick of sound in an otherwise silent stairwell. Lucas had disappeared from view in less than a second and you shut your eyes against the vertigo of being carried at such a speed. Everything blurred, everything was indistinct and most things weren’t even worthy of notice. Jaemin smelled like ink, and you had space in the very back of your mind to wonder if he had spilled his, in his haste to find you. It didn’t seem like a very vampire-like thing to do.

A few moments later you entered the canopy of the forest and every once in a while you heard a stick break under his foot or a rock get catapulted out of the way. Then you felt the sun on your back again and you gasped as Jaemin dumped you onto the warm grass, standing tall before you. He said something in a language you didn’t know - it sounded vaguely like Latin - and the grass fell out from under you as the ground opened up and you fell into space.

☽༓☾

When you woke up the next morning to your alarm, you wondered briefly if your entire experience with Jaemin and the other vampires was a dream. The puncture wounds that had been on your neck were utterly nonexistent, and there was no evidence on you that you had even left the comfort of your bed. On the other hand, you had clear memories of your time in Vahmpyr, short as it was. You remembered how it smelled and how the trees had felt as you walked outside. You remembered the feeling of the cool granite of the bathroom countertop. Mostly you remembered being with Lucas, Jeno, Jisung, and Chenle. You remembered almost dying at the hands of Lucas’ roommate and you remembered the terrifying flight in Jaemin’s arms.

Jaemin.

You grimaced at yourself in the mirror and spit out your toothpaste. There was no way your mind could have made up someone as excruciatingly kind and beautiful as Jaemin was. At the same time you felt anger bubble up inside of you. He hadn’t even given you a chance to say goodbye - he had just put you through to your Earthly self without any words between the two of you. You hadn’t said goodbye to Lucas or Jeno either, nor had you seen the rest of your new acquaintances. The anger flared, hot against your insides, and you could swear you actually felt your chest twinge. You spat out the last of your toothpaste and replaced your toothbrush in its holder, going to get ready for your day.

The next few days were spent alternately missing the simplicity of life on Vahmpyr and being angry at Jaemin. Assignments piled onto your shoulders and in addition to that, you discovered some sort of disconnect between you and the part of you that had stayed on Earth while you were out. That part of you seemed to dismiss your time in Vahmpyr as something it had dreamed up all on its own. It didn’t acknowledge you and liked to take control of your body whenever you weren’t paying full attention to it. Every time it did that you felt the twinge in your chest again, except it got more and more painful. You started having headaches that the other part of you didn’t seem to feel but which pressed against your skull like tiny war hammers thudding into the bone by your temples and occasionally your eyes.

Your vision would go blurry and you started having lapses of consciousness, only to wake up and find yourself doing just fine with your other part in charge. During these lapses you would dream of being in Vahmpyr again, and you saw Lucas smiling with Yangyang, Chenle rolling his eyes at Jisung before hugging him tightly. Other men you didn’t know and other women you hadn’t met also flew across the screen of your eyes but they disappeared quickly. Ten even passed by once, haughtily scrolling past everyone until he sidled up to a tall man with long blond hair who smiled down at him and pressed a gentle kiss to one of Ten’s tentacles. A man with red hair and an eyebrow slit served coffee to a man who chewed like a rabbit. A group of three guys held up a sign that said “Go Taemin!” as a group played football. A woman in a suit jacket over jean shorts sat with a box of papers, crying. Joy played a game with other girls where they tried to push lockers over on each other. Everything (with the exception of the lockers) looked like fun. It was better than Earth, at any rate. Every night you went to bed wondering if you might just die by morning and leave the other half of yourself behind to control the body. You were just along for the ride at this point.

The evening of your fourth day back on Earth you went to sit outside the dorm building on a bench, just for some fresh air. For once you had control of the body and you let your head tip back, closing your eyes and just feeling. The bench pressed up against your back in a way that hurt slightly, but your body had been wracked with pain for two days straight and it didn’t ache so much as behind your eyes or inside your skull. The evening breeze blew across your eyelids and brought with it the scent of sun-warmed dirt.

It smelled like Jaemin, that first morning you woke up in his house. When he had helped you across the cottage towards the bathroom and been outlined by the sun, when he had made you soup and sat with you on the couch while he explained where you were and what he was.

Your body shook with a particularly painful pound on the inside of your ribs. You let yourself relax against the bench again and the sensations enveloped you once more. You felt yourself let go of your body on Earth and float away, less falling and more weightlessness, floating away on a wind that smelled of sun on dirt and felt like arms wrapping around you while rain fell on summer-warmed pavement. You floated away on this wind and it lifted you endlessly until you nodded off, finally free of the pains that had kept you company for the past few days. You wondered if perhaps you had died of it, if being back on Earth had perhaps been more detrimental to you than beneficial.

Then your back hit something hard and the breath was knocked from your lungs, waking you up again and telling you that something had gone very very wrong or very very well. You gasped air back into your body and rolled over weakly, now in a body you recognized as the one you inhabited on Vahmpyr. Grass poked your inner arms and you pushed yourself up to sitting with your legs crossed. You massaged your chest as you inhaled and found yourself miraculously free of pain, aside from the slight burn of breath inhaled too quickly after loss of oxygen. The war hammers in your head had vacated the premises and the aches of your ribs had subsided, making it easier to breath and just sit without drawing in pained gasps.

You registered a return of cold as a shadow fell over you and looked up to see none other than Chenle, with Jisung behind him. Did they never go anywhere without each other? Well, besides hunting.

“Y/N?” He gaped down at you, and you looked back up at him.

“The one and only,” you said, before you realized that didn’t apply to you anymore. “Well, one of only two in existence.”

He laughed that weird dolphin laugh he had again and reached out a hand to help you up. You took it, standing unsteadily on two feet that didn’t ache the moment you put weight on them. “What’re you doing back here? Jaemin-hyung said he sent you back to Earth.”

You feel the corners of your mouth tug down almost instinctively at the mention of Jaemin. “He did. I don’t think Earth agreed with me,” you told him. Jisung walked forward and looked you up and down.

“Maybe we should take you back to Jaeminnie hyung, he’ll know what to do.”

You groaned. “I really don’t want to deal with him at the moment.”

“We can take him to Kun-ge,” Chenle interjected smoothly. “He’ll know better than Jaemin-hyung anyway, he’s been a doctor and a vampire longer.” A side of Chenle appeared that you hadn’t seen yet, a side that took charge in a way that wasn’t just insulting anyone near him. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. He took your hand with one of his and grabbed Jisung’s arm with the other.

“Come on, let’s go see Kun-ge!”

☽༓☾

Kun, as it happened, lived in the same building as Lucas. Actually he lived one apartment over, behind the door labeled ‘313.’ When he opened the door he seemed strangely unsurprised to see you there, just breathed out a sigh and let you in. He had nice light brown hair that worked well with his skin tone and eyes that smiled even when he wasn’t. He had this aura of parenting around him, like he took care of everyone he knew. It was comfortable to be around him from the start. Once Chenle had explained where he found you, Kun sat you down and asked exactly what had happened.

“Listen,” he said seriously. “I’ve never seen a human react the way you did. Nobody has ever come back, from what I know. We have to figure out exactly what happened, why you came back, and how to get you back to Earth.”

You inhaled deeply, relishing in the painless breath. “Okay, uh, I’m not really sure where to start,” you told him.

“Tell me about how you got sent home.”

“Okay. So, I left Jaemin’s cottage to come and see Lucas and I guess Jaemin is a lot scarier when he gets mad, because he was not happy when he found out I had left. He did this, like, superfast running thing, very Twilight, and carried me to this random clearing, I guess, I didn’t look around much.” You paused to let Kun write that down on his very professional looking clipboard, but he waved you on. Right, he was a vampire. He could write stuff fast.

“So he sort of dumped me on the ground and said something in a language I didn’t know, it sounded like Latin but I’m not sure. Then the ground sort of opened up and I fell and fell and fell until I rejoined my, uh, Earthly body.” You paused to take a breath and think about how to convey what happened when you got back to Earth.

“When I got back there was this weird disconnect with my body. Like, uh, there was me, in my body, and there was also this other part of me, the part of me that stayed behind when I came here the first time. That other part sort of took the main control of the body we lived in, and it felt like I was along for the ride. It liked to pretend that I wasn’t there, that my time here in Vahmpyr wasn’t real. It was weird. Then a little into my stay, I started getting these super bad pains all over my body.”

Kun interrupted you by holding up a finger. “How long were you home before the pains started?”

You thought back, struggling to pinpoint when they had started. “I think maybe a little longer than twenty four hours? When I got back I woke up in that body, and about one sleep later I started getting the pains, which would be like twenty five hours. Twenty four and a half, maybe. At first it was just these weird twinges in my chest, like my ribs were popping every time I took a breath, then it progressed. I got these horrible headaches, and my chest hurt all the time, and walking felt like attacking my feet, and my neck was always super achy. The thing is, my other half didn’t feel any of that. It was just my half of our consciousness. Then about on my fourth day back I went outside and sat on the bench outside my dorm. I laid back and, uh, it felt like I died or something. I just felt my consciousness leave the body and I guess the other half is still there living down there and now I’m here.”

Kun, Chenle, and Jisung all sat on the couch together, Kun looking over his notes while the other two guys just sat in silence. After a minute Kun spoke. “I don’t really know what happened to you, but I’m almost certain that your connection to your human self is gone. Or at least, your Earthly self. I don’t think we can send you back anymore, I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes full of remorse. You expected to mirror that feeling, but you discovered that it didn’t bother you so much. The other half of yourself would keep all of your friends and family from having to mourn you, and you could stay here, painless.

“I’m actually kind of glad about that,” you told them, and Chenle’s head snapped from picking at his jeans to look at you.

“Glad?” he demanded, incredulous. “To stay here?”

“Well yeah, I mean I was in pain most of the time I was back on Earth so it’s not like I’m eager to go back there. Plus, since I didn’t actually die nobody has to mourn me. And part of the time I was like… seeing Vahmpyr. Like is Ten dating this super tall guy with blonde hair? And Joy was pushing lockers over on her friends? And you two!” You turned an accusatory finger at Jisung and Chenle. “You two are adorable together!”

Jisung sighed. “Not you too…”

Kun shushed him. “You could see what was going on here in Vahmpyr?”

“Well, sort of,” you told him. “I saw that Lucas and Yangyang were having, like, a picnic?”

Kun’s eyebrows furrowed and he muttered, “I knew they had one without me.”

“I also saw this guy with red hair giving coffee to a man who sort of chewed like a bunny. And there was this group of three guys holding up a sign that said “Go Taemin!” I think, and I guess Taemin must have been playing football with the others I could see, although I couldn’t recognize any of the people playing. Oh, and there was this lady with really pretty hair who had a box of papers and she was just, like, sitting there and crying. She had the part of her hair near her neck bleached and the outer layers were still black, and she was wearing a suit jacket with jean shorts, which is kind of a weird combination.”

Kun looked over his notes. “That’s really interesting. All of those things have happened since you left, definitely. Joy and her friends like to play games where they try to kill each other, because they’re all immortal. The red haired man was probably Taeyong, and the bunny man would be Doyoung. Ten is dating Johnny, and yes, he is pretty tall and has blonde hair. I haven’t seen Taemin-hyung in a while so I don’t know if he’s playing football again or not. I don’t know about the woman with the cool hair either.”

“Definitely Taeyeon-noona,” Jisung interjected. “She broke up with her boyfriend a few days ago, and she does have hair dyed like that right now.”

Kun raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “Huh, I hope she’s doing okay. Actually I think maybe we should worry more about whoever she broke up with, she’s not exactly good with breakups.”

As though it’s a secret, Jisung’s next words came out in a whisper, and he leaned closer to Chenle and Kun. You had to strain a little to hear. “I heard it was a human. He, like, got super insecure about the fact that she wasn’t aging with him and broke up with her. It’s killing her. She really liked that guy.”

“Why did she get with him in the first place?” Chenle sounded absolutely confused. “She knew it would end like this. That’s how the last two ended.”

“I don’t know, but now I’m really worried for the guy,” said Kun. “We might have to cover up for her.” The implications of his words sank in and you made a small sound. All three men snapped their heads up and it looked as though they forgot you were there.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry Y/N! Do you have anywhere to stay where you’ll be safe for at least a few days? Jaemin’s cottage should be pretty easy to stay hidden in.”

“She doesn’t want to go and see him after what happened,” Chenle supplied helpfully. “I’m taking her back to my place once we’re done here.” Kun appeared to consider that, and then nodded his approval.

“That sounds alright. Tomorrow we can go out and get her some things to make her stay more comfortable. Maybe we can find one of the Outer Plots to put her on.”

“Outer Plots?” you asked, because the way he said it demanded capitalization in your head.

“They’re sort of exactly what they sound like,” Kun explained. “There are these pieces of land around the edges of the towns that nobody really lives on but they’re solid places to live, if we can get a good one. It’s a little bit like Jaemin’s land out there, lot’s of forest, so we can set up tree tunnels for you to get here fast, if you need to.”

You nodded. “That does sound pretty good. I don’t know what I’m going to do though, it’s not like I have all that many hobbies. I was midway through getting my bachelor’s when I left.”

“That’s fine,” Chenle said. “I have plenty of things to keep you entertained, and we can get some of the other guys to keep you company if we’re busy. There are a lot of us with a lot of open time. I also have a ton of extra textbooks from learning languages, so if you want you can spend your life becoming fluent in Japanese, Latin, French, German, Scottish Gaelic, Hawaiian, or one of the others I have. Or multiple, if you learn fast.”

“Thanks Chenle.” He wasn’t actually so bad, you thought. He had brought you to Kun and he was offering to let you use his house and his things. “I might just take you up on that.”

“You guys should probably leave now, actually,” Kun said. “At human speeds you’ll get home right on time.”

Chenle checked his watch and nodded. “He’s right. We should get going.”

You thanked Kun again and Chenle led you out the door, Jisung following behind you. You separated ways with him once you left the apartment building, his figure disappearing swiftly into the trees. Once you blinked there was no finding him again.

You walked behind Chenle quietly, choosing to observe your surroundings. You didn’t see much in the way of low quality or old houses here. It seemed as though a lower class had been eradicated entirely and the vampires could choose where they wanted to live. When you asked him how that was possible, Chenle laughed that peculiar screech of his and said, “when you’re reborn into a family of beings that has been around for millenia, you accumulate some shared wealth. Especially when some of the coven members have doctorate degrees and work on Earth full time, and some of us had familial connections as well, like money left in wills and such.”

You nodded. “So you guys are basically like the elite class of the universe.”

“Pretty much. My house is probably the biggest you’ll ever be in, because I like to splurge a little bit. Unfortunately you might get lost, though, and if you do, just call for me. I’ll make sure to be listening all night in case you need me.”

“It’s that big?” you asked in disbelief. “Do you live in Buckingham Palace?”

He grinned, showing off his incisors. “Bigger.”

“And you live alone?”

“Well, I haven’t always. Jisung and I will probably have sleepovers for all of eternity, and whenever a new coven starts they stay with me for a few days while they get their own living quarters set up, but for the most part , yes. I don’t actually spend a ton of time in the house, it’s more just for the sensation of owning a building that large.”

You shook your head. “As a broke college student, I find that completely unfair. I was working two jobs just to keep my head above water and you’re on this alternate plane just chilling in your house that’s bigger than Buckingham Palace.”

He smiled again. “Nobody said life was fair, Y/N. Nobody.”

☽༓☾

Three days and a shocking amount of Gaelic verbs later (you only got lost in Chenle’s palace four times), a house was ready for you to move in. Johnny and Ten had furnished it for you, and Chenle had explained that the two of them were the stylists of the coven, for the most part. The mysterious Yuta had also taken part in finding high quality fabrics to fit their vision. You had thanked the whole group of vampires who helped with the house profusely for not only building said house, but also for getting you a bunch of comfortable furniture. They had smiled and said it was their pleasure and all of the typical things, but what really stood out was Ten’s reaction. He had barely paid attention to you - he barely paid attention to anyone besides Johnny and Yangyang, who he called their baby - this whole time. When you had thanked him, however, he wrapped all but four of his tentacles around you in a surprisingly dry hug.

“It’s refreshing to have you around,” he had told you. “I’m glad we could help you get settled.”

Later as you reflected on it, you figured that it probably got pretty boring to know what was going to happen all of the time, and maybe you had disrupted the usual happenings of his visions and the vampires in Vahmpyr. Maybe you made other people happy too, to have a new person around.

One person who didn’t seem thrilled to have you back was Jaemin. Every time you made eye contact with him (twice, over the three days), he grimaced and turned away like the sight of you hurt him. Maybe he was mad that you were back within scenting range. He wouldn’t get near you, so it wasn’t like you could ask.

While settling into your new normal, you discovered that Chenle was actually a good friend. His love language was insults and pointed jabs, but he actually did care for his friends quite a lot. He had watched Jaemin from across your front yard as they were laying down grass seed and sighed.

“I wish he would just talk to you,” he told you sadly. “I’ve never, in all our years together, seen him like this. I’m not sure anyone has, even Taeil-hyung.” He didn’t elaborate on who Taeil was, and you didn’t press him. Was Jaemin really so mad that he couldn’t even look at you?

“Well,” you had said, “I don’t want to talk to him. He dumped me through an interplanar tunnel without warning me and yelled at me like the world was ending when I took a walk. I don’t think there’s much to be talked about. He must hate me.” Over Chenle’s shoulder, you had seen Jaemin flinch slightly. How strange. Part of you hoped that he felt the same pain that you did, a sort of ache that told you that you were unwanted. Another part of you murmured quietly in the back of your mind that you were being petty. You had chosen to ignore it for the time being. You were being petty, but so was he. He had thousands of years on you, so he should be the mature one, right?

“I don’t think he hates you. I think you both need to grow up and talk like adults,” Chenle had said flatly, orange hair seeming to flash in the sun. Jaemin sort of curled in on himself.

“Tell that to Mister Millenia before you lecture me on growing up,” you had replied. Then you reopened your Gaelic textbook and pretended to bury yourself in it, blatantly ignoring Chenle’s judgemental gaze.

“Fine,” he had muttered angrily. “You can both suffer for all I care.” Then he had stalked off and started pounding fence posts into the dirt so hard that Jeno had to tell him to take a break before he broke them.

You found yourself thinking about that moment as you walked through the trees, ironically on your way to see Jaemin. Since you had close to nothing to do , you had offered yourself up as an errand person to anyone that would hire and found yourself working for Kun running scrolls across Vahmpyr while he translated and examined them. It kept you busy and in shape, and Kun seemed happy with your service. This morning he had sent you to get the Scottish scroll back from Jaemin, along with a few other documents to pick up and drop off. You had saved this one for last, procrastinating on having to see him again. As his cottage came into full view, you sighed, preparing yourself for a cold shoulder and a very quick visit.

“Jaemin?” you called, knocking on the front door. It was closed for once, usually he kept it open for better air circulation. A moment later the door opened and there he stood, in all his cotton candy colored glory.

“Y/N? What’re you doing here?”

“Kun sent me, he wants that Scottish scroll back. He said he hopes you’re done translating it since you’re had it for a few weeks now,” you replied, willing your voice to stay professional. You were here for the scroll. When Jaemin didn’t reply, you looked up at him. “So? Where is it?”

“I don’t know why he sent you out like this, but I sent that scroll back three days ago, on our agreed upon date. I know he got it, because he sent me back a thank you with those little stickers he likes to use.”

“Oh. Um, I’ll just go then,” you muttered, turning around as you spoke. “Sorry I bothered you.”

Suddenly a hand was wrapped around your own, keeping you in place. Your breath caught in your throat, remembering the last time that had happened with a vampire. All that came out of Jaemin’s mouth, however, was, “Can I talk to you? Please?”

“Jaemin, please let me go,” you said, trying to keep your tone even. His hand released you immediately and you stepped a pace away from him and turned around so that you could see his face. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, uh, do you want some tea? I have some inside…” It was clear he hadn’t expected you to actually agree and he needed to collect his thoughts, so you nodded and he led you inside, sitting you on the familiar couch while he busied himself in the kitchen.

“I actually wanted to apologize,” Jaemin said after a minute. “I worried so much about protecting you that I forgot to let you enjoy your time here. It scared me how good you were at adjusting to this world, how much you liked being with Lucas and my other friends… I’m not used to humans reacting positively.” The kettle whistled and he took a moment to pour water into the mugs, steam rising gently from them in silvery whisps.

Once he poured the water, he continued speaking. “I wanted to make sure you knew that it wasn’t all fun and games here. I didn't want you to go looking for a place in our community because I was worried that you’d get killed. Vampires are pretty possessive of their property on Vahmpyr, for the most part, and you went right into one of the biggest apartment complexes within a day’s travelling distance - and that’s vampire distance, not human distance. Lucas told me about what happened with Yangyang, and I almost tore Yang’s arm off, I was so mad. He could have actually murdered you, and I couldn’t stomach the thought. What if Lucas hadn’t been home? What if Yangyang hadn’t given you that one moment to explain yourself? What if you had met another one of us on the stairs, without any protection? It terrified me to consider.” He walked over, a mug carried in each hand, and sat on the couch, leaving a large space in between you. It was strangely reminiscent of that first day, when he had explained Vahmpyr to you over soup.

“Of course,” Jaemin started, and you refocused. “That was only after I had sent you home, that he told me about that. When I dumped you in that tunnel, it was just fear of you being unsafe that made me so mad. The fact that you would willingly put yourself in danger, when I valued you so highly? Inconceivable. And yet, it happened. So I made another big mistake: I sent you home. I thought you would be better off there, regardless of what was happening. I knew you were healthy enough to walk to the city, so I thought you were fine. Apparently not. I heard from Chenle and Kun what happened to you back on Earth and it broke another part of me apart. I hurt you, in sending you back, not just in temporary emotional pain, but in physical pain that persisted through your entire stay. We still don’t know why you reacted the way you did, but it scared me to hear of it. I had made yet another mistake that could have killed you.” He paused to take a sip of his tea, and you did too. It was pleasant, not too hot and not too cold, just warming up your insides.

“Then the last straw came when you said I must hate you…” Jaemin’s voice broke slightly. “If anything, it’s the exact opposite, I realized I missed you more than I should, given you should be just a patient. I wanted to hug you the second I saw you, but you looked so mad to see me that I couldn’t do it. I was literally building a house for you and still couldn’t look you in the eyes for more than a moment. So I went home in shame, knowing that you were right, with thousands of years under my belt, I should be the more mature one. I decided that the next time I saw you, I would talk to you, no matter the circumstances. I couldn’t have you keep living thinking that I hated you. I didn’t actually expect you to come in when I asked. I thought I’d have to follow you through the woods, honestly.”

He fell silent, took another sip of his tea, and for the first time, you spoke. “I really didn’t want to talk to you. I wanted you to realize how much I hurt from your actions, but I think maybe I took that a little too far. I knew you were protecting me, but I really wanted to see somebody, and I knew you wouldn’t let me out, so I ran away. I didn’t really know what I was getting into. I probably should have asked you to accompany me, at least. Not my finest moment.”

Jaemin laughed weakly, taking another sip of tea. “Not mine either. I should have trusted you more.”

“And I shouldn’t have run off without even asking for your help..”

He smiled at you, that gorgeous little smile that made your heart smile back.

“Friends?” you asked.

He hesitated for only a moment, a strange sort of disappointment flashing across his face, before he was extending his hand to meet yours. “Friends.”

You grinned at him, finishing your tea. “Great. Now I need to go yell at Kun for sending me out to see you when I didn’t need to.”

“Isn’t it good that he did?” Jaemin asked with a confused frown on his face.

“Well yes, but it was a very Cupid-like thing to do, wasn’t it? I don’t tolerate my friends trying to play Cupid with myself and my other friends.” You stood up and walked your empty tea cup to the kitchen. “Do you want to come?”

He laughed. “No, you can just tell me all about it tomorrow, okay?”

You nodded. “Alright.”

You walked out into the cool twilight and started going towards Kun’s house. He had a big storm coming.

☽༓☾

A few days later, you were sitting in Jaemin’s cottage again, Gaelic textbook open on your lap. Since he was close to fluent in the language, he was helping you learn it. It wasn’t an extraordinarily difficult language, but some of the words were hard to pronounce and he had been eager to help you.

“Look here,” he said, pointing at some words on the page. “Say this for me.”

“Tha gaol agam ort,” you replied. He grinned.

“That’s how it’s written, but not how it’s said. Okay, now listen to me pronounce it. ‘Ha geul akeum orsht’. Repeat that for me.”

“‘Ha geul akeum orsht’? That’s how you say that?” you demanded. “This is like French! They don’t spell things anywhere close to how they’re said!”

“Unfortunately, most languages don’t. The same goes for Korean verb conjugations and English words and, yes, French everything, but it’s just learning new rules. After a while you understand it. I promise that you’ll get it eventually. You have the rest of your life.”

You looked over at him suddenly, questions rising to the forefront over Gaelic words. “Am I really going to stay here forever? Am I never going to see Earth again, just sit here as a useless human surrounded by powerful and immortal vampires, until I die?”

He seemed surprised by the questions. “I’m not sure any of us had really thought about it,” he said carefully.

“You all had just accepted the fact that I was stuck on your plane of existence with nothing worth doing to do? When am I going to use Scottish Gaelic, Jaemin? When will this actually come in handy, except to distract me? I’m here to do nothing, and the moment I go back to Earth, I start suffering. What am I meant to do here, Jaem?”

Jaemin gently lifted the textbook from your lap and put in on his coffee table, then pulled you into his side for a hug. You snuggled into him, inhaling the scent of sunshine and warm earth. Comfort.

“I don’t know exactly how to make you feel better,” Jaemin murmured from somewhere above your head. “But we all like having you around, you know that. It’s nice to have someone young around. We haven’t turned a human in about thirty years, so the novelty has worn off, and here we have this beautiful creature who is new in so many ways. You’re refreshing, and you’re human, so you’ll continue to be refreshing.”

“Well, thank you,” you said, muffled in his side. “But still, I don’t feel like I have anything worth doing here. You can all do anything I can do, just ten times faster. I have no unique skills or brains or anything. So what am I meant to do? I can’t even go spy on the other humans or anything because I can’t go back to Earth!”

Jaemin shifted you a little bit in his arms and started rubbing your shoulder softly. “Is there anything you particularly enjoy doing? Maybe you could do art, or gardening? Or I have this book of old forms of witchcraft?”

You turned to face him. “You have a book of witchcraft sitting around?”

He released you and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I found a papyrus scroll in this ruined Egyptian city, and I kept it just ‘cause it was cool. Then I learned hieroglyphics so that I could translate it and made a copy. Unfortunately, witchcraft is… not my strong suit, and I’m somewhat afraid of giving it away in case I never see it again. I spent a lot of time and energy on that translation.”

“And you want me to use it?” you asked, confused. Why on earth would he give it to you if he didn’t trust the perfectly composed vampires around him? “I mean it sounds super cool, but aren’t you worried about it being in my hands? I am a human, after all.”

“Well-”

Jaemin was cut off at that moment by a sharp knock on the door. At least, you assumed it was a knock, it sounded a little bit more like a wet thwap than a knock. Jaemin blurred slightly as he ran over to the door and opened it, revealing cloudy skies dropping rain onto a harried-looking Ten.

“Ten-hyung?” he asked, sounding as confused as you felt. “I’d say this is a nice surprise, but why are you here? I thought today was your Earth day? Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Ten said, gasping slightly as he spoke. “I ran straight here from the Pacific.” You took a second to think about the fact that Ten was swimming in the Pacific Ocean before refocusing on him. “-future just completely shifted, a few minutes ago. Y/N-” He turned to face you completely. “Whatever you two just did, it caused you to become a vampire in the future.”

“But we were just talking?” you told him, confused. “It wasn’t like Jaem was about to bite me.” You turned to Jaemin. “Right?”

He looked at you solemnly. “If you were going to have been bitten by me, it would have already happened. Ten-hyung, are you sure that she’s a vampire in your future? Can you see more details?”

Ten closed his eyes briefly like he was trying to focus, and in the meantime a tentacle wrung the salt and rain water out of his hair. Jaemin wrinkled his nose at the growing puddle. Ten spoke, eyes fluttering open slowly. “In the parts I can see, she’s covered in this, like, tree? It’s a little bit fuzzy. It’s green, and looks like it has brown splotches like branches. Maybe a tree falls on her or something. Anyway, you take one look at him and bite her. She goes limp... After that? Fuzzy scenes of her waking up and you taking her running. Like, really running. Vampire running.”

Jaemin took a shaky breath. “Okay, I don’t know why our conversation would have caused a tree to fall on her in the future. We were talking about, like, Earth and art and stuff. Oh, and my witchcraft book.”

Ten’s eyes refocused on him, narrowing slightly. “You’re going to give her your witchcraft book after not letting me touch it? That’s a little underhanded.” His eyes narrow briefly before looking at you. “But maybe that’s it. You’ll just have to make sure that she doesn’t practice any witchcraft under the cover of trees. Otherwise I think you’ll be fine. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thanks Ten,” you murmured. “For warning us and stuff.”

“Of course. Now I need to go back to the Pacific. Ta ta!” Ten waved to you and walked out the door.

“Well,” Jaemin said, “that’s some news, huh?”

“Yeah. Do you think that it’s okay for me to practice witchcraft with this in my future?”

“I do. I think you’ll be fine. We’ll keep you as safe as we possibly can, and if you become a vampire… at least it won’t be because I gave in. I’ll still be strong.”

“Jaem, I don’t think that was ever in question.”

“It was for me.” His voice went dark momentarily, then he brightened up again. “At any rate, I think we can safely teach you some things that’ll keep life interesting.”

You grinned. “Then let’s get started.”

☽༓☾

You were surprised at how easily witchcraft came to you, in the beginning. Jaemin insisted that you had some sort of gift with it, and as much as you told him that was silly, it seemed possible. You could easily understand instructions on Jaemin’s careful translations that even he couldn’t decipher. You gave up on Gaelic after a while, focused more on learning the original Egyptian Hieroglyphs of the spells and potions. You trusted Jaemin’s precise translation, but there was something unique about seeing an instruction in a new language and being able to understand it.

Days turned to weeks as you experimented with the materials growing in and around Vahmpyr. Taeil, who you eventually met, turned out to be a valuable resource. He was an avid collector of ancient written works, including but not limited to an original Greek copy of The Odyssey, Chinese bamboo books saved from the book burnings of Emperor Qin Shi Huang, and an exact replica of the Rosetta Stone. Taeil must have been ancient himself to have all of these valuables, but he still had the energy of the far younger members of their coven, which amazed you. He showed you different specialties of different cultures within witchcraft, ideas born from scrolls and tablets, bamboo strips and wax blocks. It was far more information than you could ever decipher or use during your short human life, but every day you got better, starting out small with poultices that you had to injure yourself to try and ward spells that exhausted you but could make your home more secure than any in Vahmpyr (or on Earth).

At one point Chenle gifted you a book covered in old stains and strangely familiar drawings that you started to use before abruptly realizing that it was an old chemistry textbook. You invited him over that afternoon and whacked him over the head with the thick pages. He told you with a disgruntled look that he put a lot of effort into that, thank you very much. And besides, chemistry was a magic in itself. (His words, not yours.) After that you made sure to thoroughly inspect any gifts you received from the more mischievous family members.

Lucas came over and helped you set up more complicated equipment that you couldn’t lift, like a big cauldron, which you actually did use on the regular after you learned how to use it, and after some consideration you set up a chemistry station for the odd experiment. At this point your house was more magical items than actual living space, something that Kun was quick to point out when he came over.

“You know, you should really be more careful about having all of these powders and dusts and-” He cut himself off with a distasteful wrinkle of his nose. “Things.” He pursed his lips, looking at you. “We don’t really know what these things will do to you in the long run. You have to be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded distractedly, making his coffee and a drink for yourself. “Maybe I’ll clean it all up sometime, but you know I’m awfully busy these days.” You used a spoon to stir in the milk and sugar, tapping the metal against the china in a soft clink.

He sighed tiredly. “Your health is less important than staying busy?”

You gave him a look that you hoped conveyed your need to stay busy, to continuously learn and improve. “Keeping my schedule full keeps me healthy, Kun. At least mentally.”

Kun didn’t look impressed by your reasoning. “I think your mental health will go down pretty quickly if you get sick and can’t do anything because you’re stuck in bed twenty-four-seven.”

You gave a sigh of your own at that. “And as always,” you announced to the room at large, “Doctor Kun gives amazing advice that I shouldn’t ignore but probably will.”

Y/n,” he said in a warning tone. “Seriously. You need to be careful! No human has ever lived here for so long, and I worry about you catching some mysterious illness that nobody has ever heard of!”

“Kun, I will do my best to keep myself healthy. I’ve put every kind of ward that I can around my house to protect me, I have magically circulated and cleaned air, I have literal superhumans to protect me from anything else, and I’m happy here! I finally have something to contribute. Maybe someday I’ll find some concoction or enchantment that will let me visit Earth, even. I just don’t know. But I’m going to keep trying.”

He took his coffee out of your grasp and walked back into the living room, which housed your indoor plants, magical and earthly. “That’s all I can ask,” he said, voice betraying his disappointment in that fact. “I’ll still give you monthly checkups for a while though, just to make sure.

“Can’t Jaemin take care of me?” you asked, thinking of Jaemin with his warm smile and caring words and the smell of sun on dirt and- well. Jaemin felt like safety in a person. Kun was wonderful, but Jaemin was just that little bit better, that little bit more comfortable to be around.

“He could,” Kun replied after taking a sip of coffee. “But I know he’s been busy lately though, he’s been on Earth for a few days checking on all of his businesses and stocks and his human personas. On the other hand, I hardly go back to Earth for more than a twelve hour shift here and there.”

“I understand.”

“Plus, I’m about two thousand years older than Jaemin, I have a lot of experience.”

“How old are you?” Two thousand years older than Jaemin would make Kun… pretty darn old.

Kun grinned. “I was around before and after Jesus came to Earth. I was around before the Terracotta Army was built. I was born in China circa when the Hanging Gardens of Babylon are said to have been built. Taeil-hyung turned me into a vampire when I was twenty five, and I’ve been twenty five ever since. None of us know when he was born. When you’re as old as he is, even with a vampire’s memory, history starts to blend together. He says he remembers the Pyramids at Giza going up, though, and that was after he had been a vampire for what he thinks was a few hundred years. He’s literally prehistoric.”

“Wow,” was all you could think to say. No wonder Taeil had so many artifacts. He was one. Kun was too, for that matter. And Jaemin… Jaemin would have been born AD, but how far into it? You asked Kun this question and he chuckled.

“Jaemin was born in fourteen forty two. He was twenty when Jeno turned him, and he’s still twenty, five hundred years later.”

“Who turned Taeil, then? I can hardly imagine a vampire older than him, even.”

“We’re not sure. Whoever it was is so unimaginably old now that even I can’t comprehend it. But whoever the original vampire was must have turned a whole lot of people. There are dozens more vampires just within our small community, and an entire plane full of them. From what I can tell, Taeil isn’t even the oldest. There’s this man who lives in the mountains by himself, and from what I hear, he hasn’t been seen by another vampire in nearly three thousand years. He’s almost a myth around here anymore. Taeil knew him back when Vahmpyr was sparsely populated, and he told us that the man - his name is Jinyoung Park - is older than him by so many years that he is to Taeil as Taeil is to me. He probably lived before Mesopotamia existed, even, or was right at the beginning of it. Before him, we have no idea who the first vampire was. If that vampire is still alive, he she or they hasn't been seen since, well, before living memory. If they still exist that would mean that vampires have been around since before modern humanity. I really wish we knew.”

“I wish you knew too,” you breathed. You had never really considered that immortality meant that the same vampires who existed before the Pyramids at Giza still lived among humanity today. It was mind boggling. The history in just their brains alone could fill thousands of textbooks and solve history’s greatest mysteries. But they couldn’t show themselves to the humans without risk. Even the people that they bit and sent back to Earth wouldn’t dare talk about their experiences, for fear of sounding crazy. Their gift to the world would never be wrapped up in gold tissue paper and presented with the proper awe, but here you were, in this modern metropolis of history. It truly hurt your brain to consider everything that came with that sort of age.

Just then a yell came from outside. “Kun-ge! Are you with Y/N?!” It sounded suspiciously like a panicked Yangyang. He never got panicked.

Kun stood up and hurried over to the front door, blurring in his hurry. “What happened?” he demanded.

“Well, uh, we may or may not have set Yuta’s house on fire…” Yangyang’s voice trailed off as Kun’s face reacted. First his eyebrows raised, then his mouth dropped open, and finally his eyes squeezed shut before reopening after a moment.

“You did what?”

Yangyang’s voice was small. “We set Yuta’s house on fire?” His voice was so high and squeaky that it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Me, and Hyuck, and Taemin-hyung.”

“Oh my,” Kun said, running a hand over his face and through his hair. “I am going to murder Taemin-hyung.” He turned to Yangyang. “I might murder you and Donghyuck too.”

“We didn’t mean to,” Yangyang said. “It just happened.”

“You didn’t mean to set Yuta’s house on fire? How do you accidentally set someone’s house on fire?”

“You put on an impromptu fire show right next to the house, mess up a trick, and accidentally throw a flaming baton on their house. It was surprisingly easy. Anyway, I know that you would know what to do. You and Y/N both.”

Kun ran his hand through his hair again. You watched as a few light brown strands flew to the carpet with the force of it. “Y/N, do you have anything for flaming houses?”

You looked around your living room as though that would help you remember whether you did or not. “I think so, let me check my storage room,” you muttered, already dashing away. You did, in fact, have something that you loosely translated from the Egyptian spell scroll as “Fire Away Goop,” or something similar. It was a green, nearly transparent goop that sloshed in its bottle but it was too thick to really flow. It oozed more than anything. When it hit heat, it tended to solidify into a more solid green that would be easily removable from Yuta’s house, if said house was still there by the time you got to wherever it was. You grabbed the bottle and rushed back to the living room, panting. Kun turned to you.

“Is it okay if I carry you, to make sure we get there in time?”

“Won’t I be too heavy?”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “We’re literally the strongest things known to man. I’ll be fine.”

“Then sure. Let’s go save Yuta’s house!”

Kun carried you piggyback as fast as he could, your face tucked into his shoulder to avert most of the vertigo induced by such high speeds. Trees flashed by in browns and greens, and then you were going through the city, past the city, through more trees, in a rush that you couldn’t quite comprehend but which caused a sinking feeling to settle in your gut. Yuta’s house was far away. By the time you got there, the house was fully consumed by the flames, the fire burning merrily without knowledge that it was ruining a man’s home.

A man, presumably Yuta, stood out front, another man on his knees next to him. Once you were next to them, you realized that the standing man had the kneeling man’s ear in a tight grip. You figured that the man on his knees must have been the infamous Donghyuck.

“Yuta-hyung, Hyuck,” Kun greeted them as he set you on the ground.

“Yangyang,” said Yuta, turning around, “You’re a bit late.” He nodded at you and Kun in acknowledgement, as Donghyuck yelped at the tug on his ear. Yuta had black hair streaked through with neon green, and it framed a narrow face and startlingly pink lips. You wondered, in the back of your head, if he used lip tint. You also briefly entertained the idea that he contoured his face, because there was no way that he looked that good without makeup. He’s a vampire, your consciousness provided. All of them look that good.

“Sorry hyung,” Yangyang murmured. “We came as fast as we could!”

Kun stepped forward. “We brought Y/N, as you can see, and she has something to put the fire out.” Something like hope sparked in Yuta’s eyes as he looked over you again, taking in details of your appearance.

“Do you really? Well, go ahead.” He gestured to the house and the flames danced in your face, leaving you to hope that this gloop worked for fires this big. You took a deep breath and poured the goop onto the grass, where it oozed between the blades of grass like a big blob of snot on the lawn.

“Atlaq alnaar,” you murmured to it, and it rose into the air, following your mental directions toward the fire. The moment they made contact, the goop started to solidify and expand, covering the fire rapidly. Green overtook bright reds and oranges as you focused on the fire and made the goop cover it.

“Y/N!” Someone was calling to you, their voice out of focus as though you heard them from underwater. “You’ll get covered!” You were vaguely aware of a hand trying to lead you away, but the spell kept you rooted in place, your feet seemingly super glued to the lawn. You kept focus on the fire as the last flames were overtaken and put out. Yuta’s house was now a giant green blob. From what you could see through the jello-like goop, it had sustained a minimal amount of damage considering the amount of flames you had seen. You were so engrossed in the green substance that you missed the warning signs before it swallowed you up too, ever expanding.

It took your outstretched hands first, pulling you forward into it. Through your panic you had just enough brain power left to be amazed at how thick it was before your feet and legs were covered too, nearly encased in the goop. You leaned your head back as far as you could, trying to keep yourself in the open air, but the goop kept expanding. You felt more than saw the vampires try to dig you out, but while the spell still fueled it, the goop was surprisingly strong. A hand grasped your elbow as the goop grasped your neck and chin, keeping you completely still as it covered more of you. The hand let go. It couldn’t do anything now.

You took a deep breath just before the goop covered your mouth, nose, and eyes. You thought you felt something on the back of your neck but didn’t think much of it until it started burning. Any strength you had left crumbled as your eyes started stinging and your oxygen ran out. You couldn't see, but it felt as though the world was spinning around you, as though you had been disconnected from everything but the pain. Even through your lightheadedness the pain persisted. It had spread now, from your neck over your shoulders like the creeping vines on the back wall of Jaemin’s cottage.

Jaemin.

You realized through your hazy thoughts that you would never see him again. Your eyes and nose burned now, from tears you couldn’t cry and the pain slowly enveloping you.

You couldn’t hold on any longer.

Black.

☽༓☾

Across a forest and a small town, Jaemin was working on his Hindi pronunciation when Ten burst into his home for the second time in what seemed like a very short period. He wasn’t dripping this time, just looked thoroughly terrified of something.

“Jaemin! She needs help!”

“What? Who?” Jaemin stood up and walked over to his friend. Ten’s tentacles curled and uncurled repeatedly as he spoke.

“Y/N! The vision got sharper, which usually means it’s happening. The green blob wasn’t a tree, it was some sort of spell! She’s going to die if we don’t get there fast.”

“Where are we going?” Jaemin demanded as they ran through the trees around his cabin.

“Yuta’s house. Or, at least, where it used to be.”

“What happened to Yuta’s house?”

“Yangyang and Hyuck burned it down.”

“Ah.”

Ten was panting as he continued speaking. “I think that must be what the spell was for. Some sort of fire putter-outer.”

Jaemin tried to think back to all of the books he had given you, recalling a spell that sounded suspiciously like what Ten described. “If the one I think you’re talking about is the spell she used,” he told Ten, “we might not be able to save her by the time we get there.” A pang echoed through his chest. An empty feeling, as though your small human life had affected his own so strongly as to make him miss you without knowing that you were gone. Jaemin ran on, leaving Ten behind when he paused to rest, sprinting at his highest speed towards where you were.

When he arrived on Yuta’s plot, most of his vision turned green, not because things were actually green, but from the sheer size of the lime coloured stuff all over Yuta’s house. He had been correct when he guessed at which spell you had used. His gaze fell on Kun, Yangyang, Yuta, and Donghyuck, who stood at the still-expanding base of the blob, seemingly trying to get something out. He gasped. You were in the thing. He ran up and tried to help the others dig you out, to no avail. They couldn't do anything against the spell so long as you were alive, and he wasn’t about to kill the person he had worked so hard to protect. He tried to hold onto your elbow as it was swallowed, but was afraid of hurting you. They all watched as you took a deep breath and the gloop covered your face.

Jaemin slumped, out of ideas. There was no way to save you that he knew of. Then he thought back to Ten’s vision. He had to change you. It was the only way. You wouldn’t need to breathe, wouldn’t need to do anything. You could still be here with him. It was with that in mind that he lunged forward at the last moment and latched onto your neck, stretching his jar as wide as it would go. His fangs, already dripping uncomfortably with venom in your presence, sank into your veins, and he felt it as you stiffened slightly. You couldn’t move much in your current situation, but your muscles seized all the same. He stayed next to you as long as he could, until he was in danger of being swallowed into the goop as well. He licked the wounds closed as efficiently as possible and stepped back with the others to see what happened.

It was obvious that you had gone unconscious. The goop stopped moving so rapidly and seemed to pause in its conquest of the front yard. It started oozing slowly around again, creating something of a reverse muffin top as the top shell hardened and the bottom bits leaked out. They backed up to the edge of the yard and Jaemin used his (admittedly small) knowledge of spellcraft to create wards that would protect the house down the street and hopefully contain the goo. They watched in silence as the green kept expanding. Then Yangyang spoke.

“Will Y/N die?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jaemin slowly. “She shouldn’t, at any rate. I bit her.”

A collective tremor went around the group, as though none of them wanted to appear surprised but they all were.

“It was the only thing I could think of that gave Y/N a chance, so I had to try it,” Jaemin continued. “But Kun-hyung knows more than me on that subject.”

Kun looked pensive as he considered what Jaemin had said. “It should work, in theory. But between the wards always up around Y/N’s house, this spell, and the venom in his system, her body might now be able to take it. It’s just a game of chance, unless we can find some way to take some stress off of her body.”

They all looked to Jaemin again.

“Is there some way to break the wards that she has up?” Yuta asked.

“I don’t think so,” Jaemin said, frowning. “Not without taxing her further. We definitely can’t affect this spell without killing her, and as far as the transformation goes, we’d need to be able to get to her body in there. That’s obviously not happening either.”

“So what can we do?” Donghyuck’s voice was small and he sounded almost repentant, as though he thought this whole thing was his fault. It sort of was, but it was odd to hear that tone from him.

“We ask Ten what he can see of the future and go from there,” Jaemin said. “There’s not much else that we can do, unless anyone knows someone better with spells than Y/N.”

The whole group shook their heads. Spells could be cast by any human variant creature that they knew of, but spellcraft was a human specialty. You in particular were gifted beyond what they had seen in a very long while.

While they thought about it, Ten burst forth from the trees down the street and ran towards their group. He slowed down as he took in the blob, now pressing against the wards that contained it. Jaemin could feel a subtle sort of pressure in his head as his spells kept the goop within Yuta’s plot.

“So?” Ten asked Jaemin as he walked up. “Did it work?”

“We’re not sure. She’s not dead, or the Fire Away spell would have gone small and liquidy again. On the other hand, none of us know any way to get her out, and Kun-hyung’s worried about the toll that all of this” - he waved his hands at the blob - “will kill her while he turns. We wanted to ask what you were seeing as of now.”

Ten closed his eyes, most of his tentacles going still as he focused. There was one that whacked anxiously against the dirt beneath him, beating a steady rhythm against the earth. After a few minutes, his eyes opened and he refocused his eyes on the group around him.

“Well?” Yangyang prompted when he didn’t speak. Ten sighed.

“Good news is that she’s probably not going to die.”

“And the bad news?”

“She might die.”

“What do you mean, Ten-hyung?”

“I can’t… I can’t tell which future is the one that will come true. It’s like there are two possible ways for the future to go, and neither of them is solid. Either she makes it through, or she dies. The worst part is that I can’t tell what causes her death. It could happen two seconds from now, or two hours, or two days. I just don’t know.”

“I don’t remember your visions ever having two outcomes,” Kun said, brows furrowed.

“I haven’t ever had one like this.”

“Well,” Jaemin said, “I’ll just stay here until she wakes up.”

“And where should I go?” asked Yuta. “Maybe nobody told you, but this is my house that just got burned down.” He threw a glare at Hyuck and Yangyang.

“Go stay with Mark-hyung or something. You sleep over with him all the time anyway,” Donghyuck suggested, and Yuta grinned, a complete change from two seconds before.

“He’ll hate that. See you guys later!” He skipped a few steps before running full tilt, phone in his hands and fingers tapping. The glow of the screen disappeared quickly from Jaemin’s view, and he turned back to their now-smaller group.

“Are you sure that you want to stay here until Y/N wakes up?” Kun asked Jaemin. “I know that you don’t need sleep or anything, but that seems like a waste of time.”

“I have eternity,” Jaemin told him. “I just need to be here to watch it deflate, whether it’s because she’s turned or because…” His voice went weak. He couldn't see you die. He just couldn’t. Kun patted him on the shoulder.

“Okay. We’ll come check on you tomorrow.” As he walked away with Yangyang and Donghyuck, Jaemin heard Kun’s ‘mom voice’ come out as he lectured on the dangers of playing with fire. It made Jaemin smile a little.

His head was starting to feel uncomfortable with the pressure of his wards, so he carefully widened them, centimeter by centimeter, until there was less gloop on them. He couldn’t keep this up until you completed the transformation, he knew, but it would work for now. Maybe he could call Kibum-hyung tomorrow for help.

Until then all he had to do was sit and wait, and look at your form encased in neo pearl champagne colored jello.

☽༓☾

It was exactly twenty five hours, forty minutes, and nine seconds since Jaemin had first settled in when the goop started deflating. The hard casing that had developed collapsed in on itself when the slightly softer insides began to shrink, reminding Jaemin slightly of Honey Lemon and her chemical reactions in Big Hero 6. He sprang to his feet, rushing forward to where he could see the outline of your body inside the collapsing bubble, grabbing the empty decanter that the goop had once been held in. He scooped up the small oozing goop that remained from the spell and plugged the decanter, turning around slowly to look at your body once more.

As your still-limp body collapsed to the ground, Jaemin felt his unbeating heart sink. You didn’t move, there was no rise and fall to your chest. There was no sound of your breath in the air. Your eyes didn’t roll around under your eyelids. You seemed… corpselike. Dead. But it couldn’t be. Ten had said that you would probably survive! Jaemin opened his phone and pressed Ten’s contact to call it. He answered on the third ring.

“Jaemin? What’s up?”

“Ten-hyung,” Jaemin said, and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Y/N… I think, is dead?”

Ten sucked in a breath, audible even through the phone. “Jaemin I’m so sorry-”

Jaemin cut him off. “Hyung, you said she would make it!”

“There was always that chance that she wouldn’t-”

“But you said-” Jaemin’s voice cracked again and he fell into silence. He couldn’t cry, and he had never wished he could until now. Tears might convey the hole in his chest, the emptiness of his existence without your life to partner him.

“Jaemin,” came Ten’s voice, and it was soft, delicate. “I’m so so sorry. I thought that she would make it, but there was always that second path. I can’t-” He took a deep breath. “I can’t see her anymore. I think… I think she might be gone.”

“No!” Jaemin exclaimed hotly. “She can’t be!”

“Jaemin-”

He hung up. Whatever Ten-hyung had to say wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t bring you back. He was along now, with your body and this stupid Flame Away Goop that had managed to take your life despite Ten’s prophecies and Jaemin’s best efforts. The person that you were was gone. Now you were just a still corpse, a painful reminder of what could have been and what should have been and what couldn’t be.

“I’ll give you a proper funeral,” Jaemin told your body as he lifted it into his arms gently. “I promise.”

For the next three days, Jaemin worked non-stop. He prepared a funeral for you, ignored everyone except to invite them to the event. He could still picture your smile, the way he had to support you those first few steps. He remembered how you had called him gorgeous, how you had said I love you in Gaelic to him without knowing what it meant. He recalled the trust you had for him despite his own occasional self-loathing, the way you had reminded him of his worth every time you were around him.

He missed you. He missed you a lot.

People had called him, came knocking once an hour. He eventually just shut off his phone so he didn’t have to hear their pleas for him to let them in. All of his hyungs and all of his noonas came to make sure he was okay, but would he ever be? There was a Y/N shaped hole in him that he didn’t think could ever be filled up again. Jeno came around three times a day with hug offerings, but Jaemin shut him out. He knew it hurt his friends, knew they only wanted to help, but you were gone and nobody understood. Nobody had loved you the way he had. Nobody had your blood quite literally on their hands, flowing through their veins.

It hurt to think about that. He “lived” while you were dead; he had gained life through your death and that was the most ironic thing. In his attempt to save you, he may have killed you.

He hurt.

On the fourth day since your death, Jaemin gently dressed your body in the best clothes he could find, brushed your hair, and put you in a casket, standing you in an open clearing, the one where he had tried to send you back to Earth. It was the largest clearing nearby, and all of the vampires that had met you plus Ten came to pay their respects. They spoke about the short time they had known you, and the strong impact you had made despite that. They told of how you had gone back to Earth and suffered until you had returned. They told of your feats practicing witchcraft and most of all they spoke of your kindness, the lack of repulsion towards them. They spoke of your kind smile and the way you had fit in so nicely with their community.

Jaemin started not-crying, as vampires did, and he thought he would be alone, but Jeno joined him. Lucas joined him. Jisung and Chenle joined him. Ten and Johnny joined him. He was not the only one who had loved you. Donghyuck joined him. Yangyang and Yuta and Kun joined him. He was not the only one who felt that your death was his fault.

Jaemin was not the only person who choked out their words in an imitation of crying. Jaemin was not the only person who missed you. Jaemin was not the only one who wanted you back. Jaemin was not the only one.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed his friends until they surrounded him in a huge hug. It wasn’t a warm hug, necessarily, but it was a hug nonetheless and made him feel better. He was not the only one.

He was still dealing with the hole in his chest, but he had others to patch himself up with now. Like each person who had known you could bring a part of you back through their memories of you. It was nice, almost.

☽༓☾

The first thing you realized was that you could hear again. Your ears were uncovered, and you vaguely registered words being choked out somewhere near you. It sounded like a large number of people were very sad about something. You wondered what it could be. The second thing you realized was that you were laying down on some sort of padded… thing. It felt like too much work to open your eyes, so you felt around and realized that you were in a padded box. A padded box? That was new.

You tried to sniff the air and were met with the smell of cologne, not too strong but apparently on enough people that it permeated the air. You got hints of perfume too, but it was far less strong. Something in the box shifted and you felt breaths on your face. Were people looking at you in your sleep? Come to think of it, why were these many people around you while you slept at all? That seemed sort of rude. You tried to remember getting here but came up blank. Your last memories were of the pain before you passed out. You shivered at the memory.

“She’s awake!” someone shouted. The noise hurt your ears after the deafening silence of your previous state, and you itched to get away from them. A murmur of sound rolled through the room and then a familiar scent invaded your senses, that of sun-warmed earth.

“Y- Y/N?” Jaemin asked hesitantly. “Can you hear me? Are you in there?”

He sounded absolutely wrecked, like his voice had been stripped of his usual honey and sunshine. You tried to open your eyes, but it was too bright and you just couldn’t, so you nodded slightly.

“Oh my- Y/N,” he continued. “Can’t you open your eyes for me, please?”

You shook your head no.

“Okay, that’s fine, sweetheart. Let me get you out of there.” There was the sound of something wooden being bonked against a wall, but that faded in comparison to the name. Sweetheart. Sweetheart.

You were lifted gently from your padded box and carried somewhere shady and cold. It felt nice against your skin. He felt nice against your skin. He carried you gently, like you were made of glass, but you felt surprisingly strong, just out of sorts. As though while your mind struggled to catch up, your body had strengthened. It was a very different sensation to that of your first time waking up in Jaemin’s house. He walked you through what you thought must be the forest for a bit before he sat down and nestled you into his side. You felt as though some muscles should be unhappy about the position, but you felt completely comfortable.

“Y/N.” Jaemin’s voice came to you, soft and warm and familiar. It was shaking slightly. “Can you open your eyes for me now?”

You focused on your eyelids, raising them slowly until you could see Jaemin. He had on a suit; black jacket over a white shirt, accented by a thin black ribbon tied loosely around his neck. His pink hair fell neatly in waves over his forehead and you reached up to brush away a piece that had fallen over his eyes, smiling.

“Hey Jaem. What happened?” Your voice wasn’t weak, like you supposed it should have been. It came out like a melody into the air, and you marvelled internally at the sound of it, how smooth it was. It felt nice.

“You-” Jaemin broke off for a second, rearranging your limbs next to him. “You were trying to save Yuta’s house. We had to rebuild part, but it’s fine. He stayed with Mark for a few days. For the most part, your spell worked. But then, it- it swallowed you. I got there in time to watch as you were absorbed by this green goop and I thought I was too late. I bit you, back here.” He brushed his fingers gently over the sides of your neck and you shivered. “But you didn’t wake up… I thought I was too late. You weren’t breathing, and you weren’t awake… I have no idea how you managed to cancel the spell without waking up or dying. So I-” He made a choked up sound and tightened his arm around your shoulders. “We’re at your funeral. Ten couldn’t see your future anymore, so we thought you were dead…” He trailed off.

“Wow,” you said. “I died? Then how am I here now? I feel alive?”

“It worked. It must have. You don’t have a heartbeat, but you’re awake. I don’t know what happened exactly, but you must be a vampire now.”

“Huh. I thought I’d feel more… hungry.”

He laughed. It glittered over your ears and you smiled, an involuntary reaction to him. “It’ll kick in, don’t worry.”

“What about the others? I mean, Lucas and Kun and everyone? Are they just at my funeral right now? Without me?”

“Oh.” Jaemin looked as though he had forgotten about them. “I guess they are. Let’s go see them?”

“Let’s.”

☽༓☾

After that day, it didn’t take you long to realize that the other vampires were purposefully putting you with Jaemin for just about everything. On days where you went to hang out with Lucas, he would ask you how Jaemin was doing. If you didn’t know, he would suggest that you go and visit him. Kun asked you to make sure that Jaemin was feeling okay. Yuta, who you were finally allowed to meet and hang out with, constantly suggested that you should spend more time with him. It was strange. Nobody had seemed to mind that you had your own hobbies before your transformation, but now that you were a vampire, it was as though you were meant to be with Jaemin all of the time. You asked Lucas about it once you got sick of the mysterious treatment and he looked at you heavily.

“When you got trapped in that goopy stuff, Jaemin went all weird. He didn’t move for, like, more than 24 hours, and once he thought you were dead… he didn’t talk to any of us until the funeral. We worry about him, and you seem to make him really happy, so we’re trying to keep you two around each other.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that, so you chose the very eloquent “oh,” as your response. Lucas chuckled.

“I know. It was really weird, I’ve never seen him like that. I think we’ve seen a lot of new sides of Jaemin since you came along.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s… well, I don’t think it’s bad or good. It just is. You affect him differently than anyone else we know.”

“Why is that, do you think?”

“Y/N, you idiot, he’s in love with you.”

“He’s what?”

Lucas sighed. “He’s in love with you.”

“Why do you think that? This is Jaemin we’re talking about here. Jaemin. He’s, like, beauty incarnate and he’s smart and kind and wonderful in every aspect of everything. He just can’t be in love with me.”

“He’s in love with you.”

“He’s not.”

“He is.”

“He can't be.”

“Why not?”

“I just told you why.”

Lucas sighed again, more deeply. “But you’re in love with him.”

“I-” You consider that. “I guess?”

“That wasn’t a question.” He rolled his eyes.

“Do you think it’s possible that he actually does like me back?”

“Yes.”

Somehow, after that, Lucas managed to steer the conversation onto other subjects and you refocused on those things, but it echoed in your head. He’s in love with you.

☽༓☾

Even with this new information bouncing around the forefront of your brain, you still had to go and spend time with Jaemin. Maybe it was a little strange for your thoughts to short circuit when you saw him, the little whisper of what if in your head. Maybe it was a little peculiar for a vampire such as yourself to stutter through sentences because you were busy thinking about what life would be like if he really did like you back. Maybe you spent less time talking on your walks together because you wanted to lay next to him in a clearing and watch the clouds instead. Just maybe.

If Jaemin noticed any of your strange behaviour, he didn’t call you out on it. He either really wasn’t paying all that much attention, or he knew enough about you to know that you wouldn’t want him to pry. It was strange, really, how well you knew each other in such a short time. You supposed that since you spent so much time together it wasn’t improbable, but he knew you nearly as well as your old human friends back home.

Thinking about your old memories was a strange experience. You could remember everything as clearly as your human self could, but you noticed more the lack of detail within the images, the way your human eyes couldn’t move as fast as your vampire ones, and your reflexes weren’t as fast, and the way you fixated on one part of the picture without taking in the details of the rest of your vision. You had entirely blocked out memories of driving, they were too harrowing. You recalled more easily now all of the times you had nearly hit something or someone, and while you couldn't die now, at least not that easily, you could have easily fallen prey to the fatal blind spot more times than you’d care to admit.

When you told Jaemin about that, he laughed that laugh you loved so much. “I was born in fourteen forty-two, Y/N. We didn’t have cars back then. The only thing on the street that would run me over was a horse-drawn carriage.”

“Well,” you retorted, “you should consider yourself lucky then. Carriages and horses don’t sound half so bad as giant hunks of metal flying at each other at eighty miles per hour.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he mused, stroking an imaginary beard. “Maybe I was lucky to be born in Korea during the 1400s. You may have heard of the emperor Sejong the Great? I was born during his rule. He was one of the best emperors Korea ever had, he introduced hangul and united the country under Confucian principles so that there was more love for the country and the people living in it. Peaceful few years we had there, from what little I remember. After that, though? Lots of killing, children on the throne, et cetera et cetera. Not so fun. And I was actually able to die through all of that, so that wasn’t pleasant. But then King Sejo, the one who did the killing, actually did a pretty okay job of ruling the country and we had a few more years of prosperity. He died six years after my transformation. I missed that event because I was here in Vahmpyr getting to know Jeno, who turned me.”

“How much of the group was around, at that point?”

“Well…” Jaemin closed his eyes briefly in thought. “Here, let me draw you a family tree.” He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote ‘Moon Taeil’ at the top. “Okay so as you know, Taeil is here as the first of us. He turned Yuta-hyung, Kun-hyung, Johnny-hyung, and Taeyong-hyung.” He wrote in their names under Taeil’s, spacing them out across the paper.

“Yuta-hyung turned Sicheng-hyung and Shotaro; Kun-hyung turned Dejun-hyung and Lucas-hyung; Johnny-hyung turned Jungwoo-hyung and Mark, and Taeyongie-hyung turned Hyuck, Doyoung-hyung, and Jaehyun hyung.” He labeled all of these names, then drew more stems leading from Jaehyun, Lucas, and Dejun.

“Jaehyun-hyung turned Sungchan, Lucas-hyung turned Hendery-hyung and Yangyang, and Dejun-hyung turned Renjun.” He drew all of these connections and stemmed Renjun’s name down even farther.

“Renjun turned Jeno and Chenle, then Jeno turned me, and I turned Jisung and now you.” He finished the tree with a flourish, black ink stark against the creamy paper. They were all connected, in some way, to Taeil’s venom. And there was you, at the very bottom, your name small next to Jisung’s.

“You guys are all so… connected.”

“Yep! We’re all one big family.”

“Do you guys have, like, family reunions? And who changed Joy and her friends? Or what’s-his-face? Taemin?”

“We don’t really all get together a lot, just because most of us have jobs on Earth or spend our days doing stuff on our own. Some of them like having flings all the time. Obviously none of us can get STDs or get pregnant, so they can do that, no strings attached. We sort of hang out in our individual groups for the most part, and then hang out every once in a while. As far as the others, we think that they must have come from the same person as Taeil-hyung, a very very old vampire. There are other stories like ours across Vahmpyr, where one vampire created one member of each coven and let us grow from there. The difference is that some of them actually have good relationships with those older vampires, whereas I’ve never met ours. I’ve heard that there’s a man called Park Jae-sang who actually comes around to spend time with the vampires he’s changed. The closest we have to an old vampire is Leeteuk-hyung, and he isn’t really around much, plus he’s not that much older than Taeil-hyung.

“Anyway, to answer your question, when I was turned, nearly everyone was around already. Only Yangyang, Sungchan, Shotaro, Chenle, and Jisung are younger than me. And now you.”

“Wow, so you had to meet everyone right after your transformation? I bet that was chaotic.”

“It was, but it was also fun. I got to be the baby for a while. Then the others came around and I somehow became a mother figure.”

You laughed. Jaemin was a mother figure, for sure. He liked to take care of the people around him, including humans that his brothers had brought home for him to patch up. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

He giggled along with you, that laugh you adored so much, and grinned. “I guess it sort of fits me, doesn’t it? Mother Jaem.” He rolled the name over his tongue and you collapsed into laughter again. “I think that works well, yep.”

The next few days, you called him Mother Jaem, and everyone gave you weird looks, but it made Jaemin laugh hard enough that it was worth it.

☽༓☾

One day after this, Chenle pulled Jaemin aside to ask him what on Earth was going on with this whole “Mother Jaem” thing. Jaemin explained happily how it had come about. Chenle rolled his eyes dramatically.

“When are you two getting married?”

Jaemin just gave him a blank stare. “What?”

“It’s so disgusting how much you guys love each other! When can we shove you two together in a house and call it a day?”

“Um, okay, first of all, that is not how you get rid of somebody. Second, she doesn't love me? And third, there is definitely not enough space in her house for me, even if she did.”

Chenle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lucas was right, you guys are blind fools. Of course she loves you! She goes to see you all the time! And enjoys it! You’re both in love with each other and both of you are cowards.” He ran his hand through his hair, knocking a piece into his eye. He squinted unhappily but didn’t try to move it.

Jaemin sighed as he got the chunk of hair away from Chenle’s eye. “This is Y/N we’re talking about though! She might hate me for everything I put her through and only stick around because I turned her or something. Plus, she spends as much time with Lucas as with me.”

“My God, your logic is terrible. You love her, she loves you, you need to get together. Watch some dramas and kiss her in the rain or something. Lucas even told me that she loves you!”

“That’s astonishingly specific for someone who doesn’t have a romance under their belt.”

“That’s besides the point!” Chenle grabbed the sides of Jaemin’s face and held him still while he spoke. “You need to confess sometime or another before the rest of us go crazy watching you run in circles around each other.”

With that he stalked away, leaving Jaemin rubbing his face where Chenle’s fingertips had pressed into the skin. It didn’t hurt, but the echoes of his voice and his fingers held Jaemin still for a long time afterwards.

☽༓☾

The next week, Kun and Taeil invited the whole coven to a reunion at Kun’s country estate. Having never been, you looked forward to seeing the giant house as much as meeting the rest of the family. It didn’t disappoint, it was absolutely massive, at least four or five floors and extensive gardens in front. Kun gave you free run of the place, asking you to please not enter rooms marked with a “Do Not Enter” sign. Simple rule to follow. You entered the main hall first, feeling like royalty in such an elegant room. Twin staircases led from the upstairs, leading your eyes to an extravagant chandelier covered in hundreds of crystals, and a mint green ceiling. From either side of the large room extended hallways with lush pale blue rugs and endless vases on platforms. It felt as though you had entered the past, or maybe a very expensive movie set. You moved through hallways and rooms, gazing at velvet chairs and old paintings that screamed money. You wondered if someone in Vahmpyr painted them, or if they were from Earth. You found only two rooms marked “Do Not Enter,” one of which was in a long hallway of bedrooms, so you assumed it was Kun’s.

The other was in the back of a positively colossal library. The library caught your eye because of the sheer size of it. Rows upon rows of books lined the walls and seemingly endless freestanding shelves. It was as large as the main public library back home, taking up at least four average rooms worth of space per floor. Not to mention the height. You estimated that it was at least three floors high, perhaps four. An entire long wall was devoted to Kun’s studies in medicine, dating back to leeches and poultices on open wounds through Magnetic Resonance Imaging and the most advanced of current surgeries. He had records of patients stacked by century, and a desk that popped out of the wall to reveal his own notes on developing vaccines and other medicines. Had you still been human, you were certain that a room like this would have given you a headache, from the size and the amount of books to look at.

From the medicine section you moved to other sciences like forensics, geology (although that section was considerably smaller), and astronomy. You also discovered an entire section on aviation. In the astronomy section, you found cork boards with maps pinned to them, stars drawn in detail, space stations built for both humans and vampires, and more drawings you didn't know how to interpret. You pulled out a few books at random and flipped through them, smiling at the notes in the margins. Past those sections were books on every type of science you had ever heard of, and some you hadn’t.

Beyond those were histories, and Kun’s travel section. He had bins filled with brochures, maps, and travel magazines and accounts of, from what you could tell, every war known to have occurred past Kun’s turning. That blended into social studies, and you found books on language next to copies of the Bible in seemingly every version, translations of the Quran, and more religious texts. Stock market trends were recorded and stored next to books on how to hire smart and anthropology. Cultural studies were stored with ethics and political records. Newspapers appeared as well, although those were fewer than the books by far. They appeared to be from a singular area, a place called Taining County, in China. Kun must have some sort of tie to it. You made a mental note to ask him when you rejoined the others.

You climbed a staircase to the second floor, where you found a fireplace and sitting area within the books. It appeared that the entire second floor was books organized by language, starting each section with children’s books and working their way up to novels. You found all of the Romance Languages, German, Hindi, Greek, Tagalog, Russian, Dutch, Japanese, Cantonese, Thai, Korean, Arabic, Bengali, Telugu, Tamil, Urdu, Latin and more that you didn’t know. In the back was a small compilation of different countries’ sign languages, as well.

You climbed the next flight of stairs to the third floor, finding the fiction section. These were organized by genre, with horror on one shelf, science fiction hogging four shelves on the opposite walls, romance taking up a large section next to that, et cetera. You spotted a section marked “Transcribed” and walked over to it, finding books handwritten by Kun, presumably taken from other forms and written over to fit in his library. You imagined the wax tablets and stone slabs of old books and shuddered. Even as a vampire, transporting those wouldn’t be easy. This floor was open in the middle, looking down at the second. Above you, the next floor was open as well and housed more shelves.

You walked up the last staircase and came upon a musical archive. There were phonographs on tables next to more recent record turntables, followed by cassette players and CD players. Each one was in impeccable condition, and behind them were shelves of every format that would work with those machines. These were shorter shelves, since the music was thinner than books, but there were still many many of them. You saw cassette boxes labeled with the albums contained within, records in yellowed sleeves, and CDs in thick storage cases. They were organized by decade, with the earliest dating back to the late nineteenth century. You guessed that was when recorded music had been invented. Perhaps Kun could still remember older pieces though; something else you would have to ask him about. You were looking through the most recent music to see what he liked and if you had heard of it when you heard someone calling your name.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

“In the library, fourth floor!” you yelled back.

“Will you come back to the kitchen and help me with this?”

“Sure!”

You weren’t sure who was calling you, but it sounded like Lucas, so you ran towards the kitchen. You weren’t sure entirely why there was a kitchen, since you all drank blood anyway, but you figured there was a good reason. You added that to your growing list of things to ask Kun. You understood why you had a kitchen in your house since you had lived in it while you were still human, but Kun hadn’t been to Vahmpyr before he was turned as far as you knew. Besides, he usually lived in his apartment next to the other guys. Maybe it was just necessary to have a kitchen in a house, you didn’t know. It would have felt weird, you guessed, to live in a house without one.

When you arrived, Lucas was outside as you had guessed.

“Will you run in and grab these things for me?” he asked, handing you a sticky note. “I’ve been tasked with rounding up everyone else.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied, walking through the doors into the room. It was industrial, like Kun cooked for dozens of people at a time, and there was a surprising amount of cooking utensils that wouldn’t work on raw bodies, like spatulas. You looked down at the sticky note for the first time. If you don’t confess, it read, I will smack you when you come back out. And you know how big my hands are, I will make it hurt.

“What?” you murmured to yourself as Jaemin walked into the room.

“Oh hey Y/N, did Chenle send you?”

“No, Lucas did. But did Chenle perhaps give you a sticky note with things to get for him on it?”

Jaemin glanced down at a hot pink slip of paper in his hand. “Yeah.” He looked back up at you before his brow furrowed and he looked more thoroughly at the writing on it. He groaned. “I am going to kill Chenle.” He ran a hand through his cotton candy pink hair. “I guess I should just get it over with then.”

He walked closer to you, setting the sticky note on the counter as he came. “I’m kind of in love with you? And I have been for a while? I mean I get if you hate me after everything I put you through, but according to Chenle you like me back? And… yeah?”

You were left speechless. Hate Jaemin? Never. And he… loved… you?

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Jaemin waved a hand in front of your face. “I’m sorry, I’ll go, Chenle must have set up a prank.” He started walking away and you grabbed his wrist.

“Jaem, hold on. I’m just in shock. I thought there was no way you could like me back…” Your voice got steadily smaller until it trailed off at the end of your sentence as a whisper.

His entire face lit up like a Christmas tree plugged in for the first time, glowing and cheerful. “It’s not a prank?”

You rubbed a hand over your face. “No, it’s not a prank. I thought Lucas was kidding when he said you liked me back. Or at least that he was wrong. You- you’re actually telling me that you’re in love with me?”

“I am.”

“Holy shit.”

He laughed, a ringing sound in the quiet of the kitchen. It echoed back at you as though the happiness of the laugh had been multiplied. “They’re going to be so smug,” he muttered.

“Oh yes they are. We’re going to have to get back at them someday.”

“Well, we have forever,” he reminded you. You grinned and held out your hand. He took it.

“Let’s go get the teasing over with then.”

You walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. “What did Chenle threaten you with if you didn’t confess?” you asked.

“Oh, he was going to tell the group about the fling I had with Jeno when we were younger.”

You looked at him in shock. “You had a fling with Jeno? Why would you choose me over him?”

“It was just sexual attraction. While that works for some people, both of us were happier just being friends, so we ended it. I actually am in love with you, which makes all the difference. Anyway, Chenle got that story out of me on a dare once and has held it over my head ever since.”

“I wonder if he’s told Jeno he knows?”

“Probably.”

You had reached the front room, and you took a deep breath as you walked forward, though it did nothing for your undead body. “Let’s throw ourselves to the wolves.”

As you walked out into the sunlight, a cheer rose up that would have sent birds flapping away, had there been any. You heard Chenle’s unique laugh paired with Lucas’ happy shouts of “yes!” and the voices of the other men you had gotten to know, paired with ones you didn’t. They stood in a group in the garden, whooping and throwing up hats if they had any. Lucas was the first to reach you.

“I can’t believe you actually did it! I thought I’d have to smack you!” He sounded far too happy at the prospect for your liking.

The rest of the boys ran over. There was a repeating round of “finally” until someone mentioned the food getting warm and there was a great rush to get back to the patio in the garden. You sat next to Jaemin in patio chairs as the sun slowly sank past the tree line and talked with friends old and new.

There was something new, something warm inside of you. A feeling of belonging more than ever when Jaemin fed you a little and the rest of the guys booed jokingly. Under the rising stars you kissed him for the first time, a quick peck at the behest of Yangyang. There were more cheers and hugs and someone had a polaroid camera out, the flash lighting up the scene as everyone laughed.

This was where you were meant to be.

End.

!!reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!!

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sunfleurry · 3 years

Text

Fires and Flames

Warnings: Smut, language, & alcohol.

Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!

I should’ve left the minute I saw the look in his eyes when I told him. I was laying with my head on his chest, my bare skin sticking to his with the sheen of sweat covering our bodies. His fingers were lightly tracing the length of my spine as we caught our breaths in the quiet of the night under the lavish chandelier he had splurged on for his bedroom. I knew he could feel my heart rate speed up as my mind fought the urge to tell him, just tell him how I felt—how I still feel—before the courage I had would slip away. So, I did.

“I love you.”

If the room wasn’t quiet before, it was quiet now as his fingers stilled and we both stopped breathing. In my case, it was because I wanted to put all my focus on his response, his reaction, anything. In his case, well, I didn’t know why he did that. I thought it was from pure shock of hearing me say it for the first time, but deep down, I knew it was because of a deeper reason. A reason that would only be the downfall of what was once considered “us.” And I saw it coming the moment we met.

________________

My friend Vi was yelling something in my ear but I could barely hear her over the loud music, so I simply nodded. She looked at me weird and I realized that nod may have been the wrong response.

“I can’t hear anything you’re saying,” I yelled.

She leaned over and cupped her hands around my ear and proceeded to loudly repeat what she said. “That guy has been staring at you since we got here.”

“Who?”

She pointed at the bar and I followed her finger until I spotted a man in his mid-twenties who was alone, nursing a cup of God knows what. When we made eye contact, he nodded his head in acknowledgement then took a sip of his drink.

He was cute.

“Should I go talk to him?” I asked Vi.

“Are you kidding me? If you don’t I will.”

I laughed. She had a point. He was handsome, what with his brown hair that curled slightly around his ears and forehead, or the tattoos that littered his arms. I eyed his clothing and wondered if there were more underneath.

Straightening myself, I awkwardly started walking towards him, extra cautious of my ankles as I hoped my heels wouldn’t betray me in front of the handsome stranger. Seeing me approach, he set his glass on the counter, and watched me make my way over. I was getting self-conscious under his gaze, but I kept my head held high until finally I was standing right in front of him.

“Are you going to ask for my number or are you going to keep staring at me all night?” My words exuded the confidence I was not feeling on the inside.

His lips twitched, the corners turning upwards. It was barely noticeable, and I had to rip my eyes away from his gorgeous green ones to see it. “How about we skip all of that and go straight to mine.”

I laughed in disbelief. “No thank you.”

The man nodded in understanding, then turned back to his glass.

I don’t know why I didn’t leave him alone after that. Why was he here all alone? I asked him just that.

He slowly turned his body towards me before looking away a moment later. “Can’t a man go out for a drink on his own? Maybe I like my own company.”

“You don’t seem to be having a fun time.” I was overstepping it. Who was I to make assumptions about a stranger?

He sighed and looked down at his drink. I decided to sit next to him. “What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I rolled my eyes. Well, I tried. I put my palms on the counter to lift myself up when a ringed hand covered my own.

“It’s Harry,” he said.

I studied his face, trying to understand what exactly was going on inside his head. He had the eyes of a boy trying his best to make up for a mistake he didn’t know he made. He almost seemed desperate for me to forgive his aloofness. It was as if he was just learning how to be social for the first time.

I smiled and replied with my own name.

________________

Harry didn’t say anything for the longest thirty seconds of my life. I lifted my head to peer at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He was frowning lightly, his gaze fixed on my face but not my eyes. He seemed to be frozen on the outside, but I knew that his thoughts were running a mile a minute–it’s what he does. He’s an overthinker, and that moment was not different from all the other moments he had to stop and think about people’s intentions towards him.

I would be lying if I said the fact that he had to question my confession didn’t sting, or that the look in his eyes was nothing of what I wanted to see. I wanted to see relief, happiness, contentment. But all I saw was nothing. Emptiness.

Finally, he opened his mouth, and I stupidly felt a surge of hope, but then he closed it without a sound—and my hope deflated.

I leaned over and softly brushed my lips to his cheek. “It’s okay,” I whispered before I started detaching myself from him. I wanted to cry but not in front of him. Instead, with a heavy lump in my throat and tears threatening to spill, I found my panties on the floor and slipped them on, then threw his button up over my shoulders.

I heard rustling behind me, then my name sounding from his mouth stopped me at the doorway to his bathroom.

I turned around and he winced. I imagined it was because the emotion I’ve always been bad at hiding was clear as day on my face. It’s something I struggled with since I was a child and still try to work on to this day.

He was sat up now, the blanket covering his lower half, his back slightly curved. He looked at me with a pained face. “I don’t–”

“I know,” I sighed before concealing myself completely from his view by finally closing the door behind me and letting out a large breath. I clutched at the fabric covering my chest, as if I was holding in my aching heart, my tears spilling, one by one. I dropped my head in my hands to stifle my sobs, not wanting him to hear how much he affected me. I’m not sure why I thought that would work, when not two minutes ago I told him I loved him.

________________

That night, we ended up in my bed together.

“Yes,” I gasped, “harder.”

He fucked me like I’d never been fucked before. He was rough the way I liked it–he quickly learned how to push my buttons.

I was on my knees, my face pressed into the mattress as he took me the way he wanted to. My hands clenched around the sheets at a particular hard thrust and he groaned when I tensed around him. I gasped when he pulled out but then he flipped me over on my back. I smiled as he got on top of me, his arms caging my head, before he entered me once again.

I was mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he stole pleasure from my body. I wrapped my legs around his hips as did my arms around his shoulders to bring him closer to me. I welcomed his comforting weight on top of me.

I carded my fingers through his hair and when he moved his gaze from my breasts to my face, I couldn’t resist but lift my head and connect our lips. Upon realizing what I did, I quickly pulled away and opened my mouth to apologize profusely.

“I told you not to kiss me,” he panted as he pulled out of me.

“I know I’m sorry! I don’t know what got over me, I was just in the moment.”

He rolled off and slumped on the bed beside me, the both of us breathing hard. He was quiet, I didn’t know if he was expecting me to say anything else or if he was planning on leaving.

I swallowed and stared up at the ceiling feeling guilty. One of the first things he had told me when when we got in the cab was not to kiss him. I thought it was a weird request, and I was kind of bummed, but I respected it. I tried to at least.

I was about to start another wave of apologies, but I didn’t have time to think about what was happening before Harry leaned his weight on his elbow to slot his lips with mine. I didn’t think twice as I kissed him back, brushing away the initial shock. I realized at that moment that I liked kissing him. A lot.

With his lips still moving with mine, he got back on top of me, and finished what he started.

________________

After a moment of trying to control my breathing, I slipped off what little clothing I had on and climbed into the shower. The steamy water hitting my body helped me relax and my mood lifted slightly as I washed and soaped my skin and hair. Watching the water fall down the drain, I imagined it to be my feelings, one by one, disappearing into the ground and out of sight.

I faintly heard the bathroom door open, then his footsteps, and finally the shower door. Harry climbed in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pulled me closer, holding me against him. His damp curls tickled my cheek when he leaned forward and kissed my neck twice, before bringing his lips up to my ear.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I swallowed the lump that had once again formed in my throat. I brought my hand to my stomach where his arms were and entwined our fingers. “I’m not taking it back. I meant it.”

He kissed my skin again. “I know.”

I rolled my lips inward as I nodded my head once, then turned around, his arms still encircling my body. I reached up and gently held his face to simply lock eyes with him. I secretly cursed him for making my heart stutter just by looking at him, at those eyes that say so much, yet nothing all at once. I’d always been captivated by them, not just by their striking green colour, but the stories they hid. Every day, I tried so hard to read him, understand what he was thinking about, what he was worrying about, what he was remembering–I even asked him at times, “what are you thinking about?” or “what is it?” He’d always just shrug, smile and kiss me to make me forget. But I never forgot.

________________

It wasn’t the first time this happened. I was in the kitchen washing the dishes and he was in his room. I was drying my hands when suddenly I heard him call out my name. The tone of his voice had me drop the towel on the floor and hurry towards his bedroom. He was leaning over his dresser, an arm on the top keeping him upright as he took shallow breaths.

“Oh, Harry,” I whispered as I rushed to his side.

I carefully led him to his bed to have him sit down. “Breathe with me,” I said, gently.

His eyes were wild as he tried to comply. I breathed calmly and grabbed his hand, urging him to copy me. The contact seemed to help as he started to calm down.

“Now count with me,” I said. “We’re going to get through this.”

After a while, his breathing finally eased up, and tears welled in his eyes but didn’t fall.

“Come here,” I said as I helped him lay down. I crawled behind him and tangled our legs together while I hugged his back to my chest. I kissed his hair as I worked on keeping my breathing steady, making sure he was still doing the same.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he croaked.

“I’m right here,” I whispered into his hair.

“I need you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

________________

He let go of me when I grabbed the shampoo. I squeezed some onto my palm as he sat on the protruding ledge in the shower, making it easier for me to reach his hair. One thing I knew about Harry was that he loved it when I washed his hair. I didn’t mind, because it gave me an excuse to run my hands through it, another feature to admire of the man I fell in love with. I could feel my eyes stinging once again and this time I let the tears fall freely. He was peering up at me as I lathered his hair with my fingertips, making sure I soaped his roots thoroughly. I hoped my tears were blending into the water–that he didn’t know I was crying–but then his face fell in concern.

“Hey,” he slid his hands behind my thighs to urge me closer. “Come here.”

That did it for me. A sob clawed its way out of my throat, and Harry quickly sat me on his lap as I buried my face into his neck and let everything I was holding in escape. I felt him lean forward before the water was shut off and we were left in the steam of the shower as I proceeded to break in his arms.

________________

“What the fuck is this, Harry?” I was seething.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Of course it’s what it looks like!” I yelled as I shoved the phone in his face.

“They’re just friends,” he sighed.

Tears of frustration welled up as I tried to grasp at this whole mess. “You left, Harry. Without a fucking word and days later I find pictures of you at some beach resort with a random girl all over you?”

He held his hands up. “We were just dancing, I promise.”

I pulled at the roots in my hair. “You don’t get it! Forget what you were doing at that exact moment, Harry! I visit you every day because I care about you and I get worried about you and I want to make sure you’re okay. Then one day you don’t answer the door and excuse me for thinking of the worst case scenario! You don’t answer my calls or my texts, hell, I even fucking emailed you, only to find out days later via Instagram that you were outside of the fucking country having the time of your life?!”

I fell back on the couch feeling nothing but raw anger and hurt as I waited for him to say something.

He got on his knees in front of me but I moved my head out of the way when he tried to cup my face. “Don’t touch me.”

“Baby–”

I balled my hands into fists. “Don’t call me that, I don’t want to hear you calling me that right now.”

“Fine, fine,” he cried. He hugged my legs and laid his head on my knees. “I’m so sorry. You may not believe me but I thought of you every day while I was gone.”

I scoffed at that and crossed my arms over my chest, making sure I didn't touch him. I quickly wiped at the wetness on my cheek, not wanting him to see that I am not only mad, but also sad and hurt. “Disrespect me one more time and we’re over, Harry.”

His head snapped up and panic took over his features. “No, please. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I started crying because everything was too much for me. He did something that had me panicking for days.

“I don’t deserve you,” he continued.

“This isn’t the first time you do this, Harry,” I sniffled. He got off the floor and pulled me into his arms as he laid back on the couch.

“I know and I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed, and I feel like I’m in a box, like my surroundings are closing in. It makes me want to escape, it’s animalistic, I feel like I’m going crazy. At that moment, as if someone was listening to my prayers to make it go away, my friend called me asking me if I wanted to go on a short getaway with him and some other people. I said yes and out of sheer desperation, booked a flight right away.”

“And you didn’t even think of me.”

He held me tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what I was thinking. It was like I blacked out. Again, I am so sorry.”

I let out a long, exhausted breath. I knew what I was getting myself into when I met Harry yet I still went through with it. He was a sad man, a broken man and I still believed he would be the perfect boyfriend. “It’s okay,” I rubbed his chest. “It’s okay.”

As we both laid there in each other’s arms, I couldn’t help but think, I shouldn’t have been comforting him. He was supposed to be comforting me.

________________

“Please don’t cry,” I heard him say as he brushed back my wet hair, the majority of it sticking to my neck. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

I continued to cry into his neck, not believing how much I had bottled up until that moment. Suddenly I felt wet droplets soak my skin, and I knew it wasn’t the water.

A sniffle escaped Harry and it confirmed my suspicions as he hugged me closer and cried with me. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered brokenly.

I closed my eyes, as we held each other tightly, and didn’t deny it. He was right, I thought sadly, he didn’t deserve me. He put me through hell, and I let him. I naively believed that I could change him, make him feel better–fix him. I wanted to laugh at myself. How could I have been so stupid? He pushed me away too many times to count, yet I stubbornly stayed. Because I loved him. I let myself fall in love with him. And now we’re both facing the heartbreak that’s been looming over our relationship–or whatever it was–since the start.

When I reluctantly leaned back to look at him, I wanted to break down all over again. I’d never seen him cry, and it was a sight I wished I could unsee because his sadness felt like a stab in my heart. I always knew he was a sad man but I’d never seen it on his face so clearly. I saw it through his actions, through his words, but seeing the red eyes, the lowered brows, the downturned lips that I thought about every day, and the tears that littered his red cheeks made me wish I was some magical being who can erase the broken pieces of him.

His gaze followed the movement of my throat as I swallowed then it lifted back up to my own. It was like we were having a silent conversation with our eyes–like we were both dreading opening our mouths and actually sounding out the words that would be the end of us. Then his hand trailed up my skin and the pressure of it on the back of my head encouraged me to lean forward and attach my lips to his.

________________

I smiled brightly as I spotted Harry sitting on a park bench reading a book. He looked so handsome in his tortoise shell glasses and messy hair. As if sensing my presence, he looked up and the smile that graced his features made me want to melt in a puddle. That smile. All for me, I thought giddily as I hurried my pace, eager to be in his arms.

Then, I felt a tug on my skirt and fingers brushing the skin on my thighs. My eyes widened as I looked at the man who had just walked by me and didn’t even look back. When I snapped my gaze to Harry, he was already marching towards the man who had touched me, completely ignoring my pleas to let it go.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyes still glaring at the man who was now talking to a woman ten metres away.

“I’m fine, Harry,” I said warily, putting my hands on his chest.

“That fucking entitled prick,” he said, anger boiling inside him.

“It’s all good, calm down.”

“Fuck this,” he brushed my hands off and stomped towards the man. The latter barely got a look at him before my boyfriend’s fist connected with his face.

The woman and I let out a short scream. I ran towards Harry, pulling his shoulders to get him off the stranger who was now on the floor, flimsily blocking the onslaught of Harry’s hits to his face.

“Harry! Stop!”

He didn’t seem to hear me as he didn’t let up. I looked around for help, but everyone seemed happy to watch two men fight. I gasped when the man was able to hit Harry in the jaw. There was no room for careful consideration before I flung myself towards the two men with the intention of throwing myself in between them before someone grabbed me by the waist.

“Get off me!” I yelled at the boy who was holding me back but he only laughed.

I was beyond exasperated and annoyed. “Harry, I swear to God if you don’t stop I will turn around and never look back.”

He seemed to hear that at least. The creep put me down, thankfully before Harry saw.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

________________

I poured every emotion into the kiss. I held his head in my hands as our lips moved together in sync, like they always did. I was telling him I loved him again with that kiss. He nudged my leg and I complied with his silent request to bring it over his lap to straddle him.

He deepened the kiss as his arms snaked around my waist. He’d never kissed me like that, like he was desperately trying to make me understand who he was and why he was the way he was. He kissed me with love and comfort, happiness and fulfillment, but also with sadness and regret, sorrow and dejection.

I was growing tired of my tears but they seemed to be here to stay as my eyes started watering again. “I don’t know how I’ll live after this,” I choked but he only shook his head as he brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Listen to me,” he pleaded when I looked down, unable to hold eye contact. He nudged my chin up to lock eyes once again. “You are the light of my life. And I’m begging you,” he whispered, his breath fanning my lips, “don’t let me be the reason that light goes out. I’ve done enough damage, don’t let me do any more.”

________________

I loved him like this. Relaxed, no creases between his eyebrows, a smile on his face. We were spending the afternoon at my place–talking and laughing about stupid things, the wine we drank making us even more giggly.

We were progressing with our relationship and I was somewhat satisfied with it. I knew it would be tough to get him to open up, but slowly and surely, he’d been getting much more comfortable around me–enough to tell me more about himself. Not his secrets of course, the ones that left him the broken man he is, but he was definitely becoming more affectionate. He was letting me in. I had seen pictures of his brothers and sisters and his mother and father around the house but every time I asked about them, he’d shut down.

I asked him again another time and he gave me a little more.

“They’re not around anymore.”

That could mean so many different things, but I decided that was enough for now. I was satisfied with the fact that he was able to give me that sliver of information. Any progress was good progress.

“We’re all out of wine,” I pouted as I stared at the empty bottle on the coffee table, leaning back into the loveseat.

He chuckled. “There may or may not be an extra bottle in the kitchen.”

I jumped up and started making my way to the kitchen but as I passed by him, he intercepted me and I squealed as he left me to fall on his chest. “I hate you,” I laughed.

He kissed my nose, making me giggle. “No you don’t”

“No I don’t.”

“See?” He asked as his hand tickled my side.

I squirmed out of the way, an obnoxious laugh escaping me. “I need to get the wine.”

“I don’t want wine anymore,” Harry said, encouraging me to lay my head on him. “I have you now.”

I sighed in contentment and smiled as I listened to his heartbeat.

________________

“I love you.”

“Don’t,” he winced. “Please.”

I kissed him again and he responded without hesitation. This time, the kiss held more passion and fervour. It reminded me of the first time we had sex almost a year and a half ago, when it was all a rush and we couldn’t get enough of each other. I moaned when his tongue touched mine and he reached down to slip his fingers between my folds, the palm of his hand a constant pressure on my clit. I whined into his mouth when he inserted a finger inside, then two, and started carefully rubbing my inner walls. I reached down and grabbed his dick and stroked until I felt it start to harden in my hands.

“That’s enough,” I mumbled and reached down to stop his hand. I was already going to come.

“I’m sorry. I just assumed–”

“No,” I pressed my lips to his in a searing kiss. “That’s not what I meant.”

I ran my thumb over the tip of his length and he shuddered. “Are you sure?”

I smiled sadly and rested a hand on his cheek. “Yes.”

He helped me lean forward, letting me align his length with my centre before I started sinking down, and he slowly entered me in a way I never got used to. The delicious stretch always required a moment for me to adjust before I started moving. He tightened his hold on me when I started doing just that.

________________

“Harry,” I asked as I brushed his hair with my finger. We were sitting on the floor, my back to the couch as he sat between my legs. I had just helped him through another panic attack and there we were, fifteen minutes later still on the floor. My ass was getting numb but I didn’t want to get up until Harry was ready. “Have you ever considered therapy?”

He stiffened. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“But–”

He turned around and gave me a long look.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed.

He leaned over and kissed me. “Thank you.”

I said, “This isn’t over. I’m not letting this go.”

“I know,” he shook his head before making me lay down on the floor and trailing his lips across my chest. “Need you.”

I laughed and helped him undress me.

________________

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I gasped as I started moving with the help of his hands on my hips.

The steam from our shower was already fading away, but the heat remained and paired with our movements, sweat coated our bodies, allowing us to move more easily against each other.

My knees were planted on either side of him on the ledge as he held me to him to prevent me falling backwards. Our lips never separated, moaning into each other’s mouths as we relished in the feeling we were experiencing for the last time. The thought made a sob escape my mouth and he squeezed my hips, pausing my movements.

“We can stop,” he mumbled sweetly, ducking his head to try and get me to look at him.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I’m fine,” my voice broke at the last syllable. Finally mustering up the courage to look at him, I only wanted to cry harder. He had tears falling, eyes red and sad, and I wished we could turn back time and fix every problem we had the way we were supposed to. I wished we were other people, in another lifetime, who had no issues and who knew how to make us work.

“Come here,” he said and I closed my eyes when his lips touched mine.

I started moving again and he whispered words of encouragement and praise.

Break-up sex was supposed to be quick and dirty. What we were doing right then was sheer torture. We were prolonging the pain, both too scared to face what reality we would face as soon as we were done.

________________

“Harry, we need to talk about this.”

It was another fight. About the same damn thing.

He snapped his head towards me.

“You can’t keep relying on me for your happiness.”

He frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“I mean you finally agreed to go to therapy which is great, but this is the fourth time you ‘forgot’ to go this month.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. Why out of all times, he chose then to act stupid? “Baby, if you would just talk to me, open up to me, I wouldn’t be after you about this but you won’t even tell me anything. Sometimes I sit back and think to myself, I know nothing about him. My own boyfriend.”

He scoffed. “You know plenty.”

I grew restless. “I know your name, I know where you work, I know your favourite drink–especially because you reach for it more than you should.”

He grit his teeth at the last statement but I stood by it. I continued, “I know your birthday, I know what car you drive.”

“What’s my favourite colour?”

“Orange. Harry, that means fuck all compared to what I am trying to tell you. I don’t know where you grew up, I don’t know any of your friends–”

“I told you why! They’re not good people!”

“Then why do you spend time with them? Tell me why!”

“I don’t need to tell you anything,” he snapped.

I decided the best response was to walk away, which was what I did. Fuck that, I couldn’t deal with him anymore.

“Don’t walk away from me!” He yelled and I could hear his footsteps catching up to mine.

That fight ended one of both ways all our fights ended. With me comforting him or sex.

________________

His arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me in place as he started rutting upwards. The moans I emitted told him he was hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on his as I let myself feel every inch of him as he got more rough by the second. I knew he was watching me but I couldn’t take it anymore–looking into his eyes hurt my heart, I could feel it break the longer I stared at him. For the first time since I met him, I let myself hide from him. I didn’t give him what he wanted, I didn’t keep my eyes open the way I knew he wanted. I stood my ground, kept my eyes closed despite the tears slipping past my lids, and selfishly let myself feel him for the last time.

My climax hit me out of nowhere and I jerked forward, clawing at his shoulders as he continued to pound into me. My moans echoed loudly in the closed shower stall as I continued to tense around him.

Harry groaned as he held my head in his hands and wiped my tears with his thumbs. I finally lost self control–I let my eyes meet his and saw grief, a look I had only seen once and that was when I asked him about his family. “Harry,” I breathed.

“Shhhhh,” he kissed me. “I’m okay. I’m only worried about you.”

I shook my head. “No, you—“

He kissed me again to shut me up. I reciprocated this time.

Suddenly he groaned as he thrusted a couple more times and I winced from the sensitivity down there. He tensed and burrowed his face in my neck allowing me to hold him close through his orgasm as he breathed hard and finally spilled into me. I didn’t want him to let go. I didn’t want this to be the end.

“I love you, Harry.”

He didn’t say anything.

I separated myself from him and he steadied me before I looked at him for the last time while wiping his wet cheeks. I couldn’t resist leaning down and giving him the softest of kisses.

“I don’t regret you.”

Then I left.

Part 2

A/N: HI BITCHES IM BACK AFTER A MUCH NEEDED MENTAL HEALTH BREAK <3 I missed you. I’m gonna be uploading my favourite fics that I deleted months ago along with my blog.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one-shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

The Fickle Finger of Fate//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Underaged drinking, slight language, one teeny paragraph of sexual content but no details, sexual references(all characters are legally adults in the wizard world), mentions of nudity, mentions of death (minor character), ANGST

Summary: Soulmate AU, but with a twist. How much can someone test fate, and what are the consequences when that happens?

Prompts: "I can't lose you." "You already did." and "Let me go."

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: @love-peachh's writing challenge!! with above prompts and the soulmates trope, the third fic in Abby's Week of Weasley !

~Abby's Week of Weasley Masterlist~ ~Masterlist~

Message me to be on the taglist!

May 1995

Today was the day. The one you had been waiting for your entire life. The day that would change everything for you. Today was the day you would find your soulmate.

It was your sixth year at Hogwarts, and the last day of school was just around the corner. Which meant it was time for you, and the rest of the Sixth Years at Hogwarts to line up and await for your name to be called. One by one you’d step into Dumbledore’s office and perform some sort of ceremony--what is was you weren’t entirely certain--to determine who your soulmate would be.

You bounced with excitement as you met up with Fred and George Weasley, your best friends since first year. They were much less excited about receiving their soulmates, but they laughed and supported your glee.

Truth be told, you were secretly hoping that Fred would be the one you were spending the rest of your life with. You’d had a crush on him for years but had always been too afraid to say anything. If it was announced that you two were destined to be together, then there would be nothing holding you back anymore.

“Excited, are we?” Fred teased, watching you tap your foot in impatience.

“How could you not be!” you exclaimed. “This is when we find out our soulmate, Fred. The person we’ll love for the rest of our lives! It’s kind of a big deal.”

He only shrugged, not caring in the slightest. “We’re 17. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, why do we need to be tied down so early?”

“I second that,” said George. “I’m all for settling down once I’m older, but knowing who it’s gonna be with? It feels kind of weird.”

“Oh, you two just aren’t romantics,” you said, sighing dreamily. “Trust me, after this everything is going to change,”

And it did.

The second you completed the ceremony where Dumbledore cast a spell that read into your soul, the name of your soulmate was hovering in the air above you. Fred Weasley.

You almost cried with joy and you rushed out of the room, telling Fred that he had to go next and see who he got. You were on the edge of your seat waiting for him to reemerge, for him to say that it was you and always had been, for him to sweep you off your feet and pull you into the first of your many sweet kisses.

When Fred finally exited the office he looked at you and smiled. But it wasn’t at all what you were expecting. He didn’t seem enthusiastic at all. In fact, the smile he sent you was the same one he always did, a friendly teasing grin.

You shook your head, telling yourself not to overthink things. You two were meant to be together, it was fate.

“So,” you prodded, “who was your soulmate?”

Fred’s grin faltered and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Can we go somewhere to talk? Somewhere private?”

You agreed after a moment of shock, nerves trembling in your stomach. Why wasn’t he happy? What did he have to talk about?

The both of you ended up in a secluded corner of the castle and you sat down next to him, his hands holding yours. “So, I’m assuming that I’m your soulmate?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” you said. “And you’re mine?”

He nodded and you felt your insides burst. You knew everything would work out. Fred Weasley was meant to be with you. Slowly, you leaned in toward him, tilting your head to the side and licking your lips slightly.

Fred moved back.

“Freddie?” you asked, wondering why he was hesitating.

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, giving you a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Look, Y/N, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad it’s you. I think that some day the two of us would make a great couple! We already know so much about each other and we’re so comfortable with each other that I’d be surprised if my soulmate was someone else. But…”

There it was. The but. Everything was supposed to be perfect today, it was all supposed to come together. What was going on?

“But…” he continued, “ we’re young. And we’re destined to spend our whole lives together, so, why don’t we just...put a pin in it?”

“Put a pin in it?” you asked unbelievingly.

“Sorry,” he said, “wrong choice of words. What I’m saying is, we have plenty of time. Why rush into things? How about you do your thing and I’ll do mine, and then when we’re older we can see how things are going. Sound good?”

Your mouth suddenly went dry, hands becoming clammy and tears welling up in your eyes. He wanted you, but not now. He wanted other girls now. But he was your soulmate. It would all work out in the end. It had to.

“Y-yeah,” you said, desperately holding back your tears. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Great!” Fred said, pulling you into a hug. “I knew I could count on you, you’re the best.”

“Mhmm,” you muttered. “The best.”

Fred kept holding you for a few seconds before getting up and running to find out who his twin got for his soulmate. You stayed sitting on the corridor floor, wondering how in the world the best day of your life had suddenly turned into the worst.

No, you chided yourself. This was Fred, and he and you were meant to be together. You’d find your way back to each other someday. You sighed a breath of relief and stood up, wiping away the few teardrops that managed to make their way out. It was ok. It would all be ok.

September 1995

“Fred! George! How was your summer?” You were sitting in one of the compartments of the Hogwarts Express, waiting for the twins to join you. They arrived looking exceptionally happy and exceptionally good looking. You assumed they must’ve had a very eventful few months.

“Hey!” said George. “It was great. We moved to a house in London for the summer, long story, but Harry and Hermione were there so it kept Ron out of our hair.”

“Yeah, it was fantastic,” said Fred, plopping down in his usual seat next to you and throwing his legs across your lap. “We got to meet so many new people. And so many new girls.”

George and you both stiffened, but Fred was none the wiser.

“There was this one girl,” he continued, “she was so hot. I swear I shagged her on every piece of furniture in that house. What a summer.”

You remained silent, hands folded and your head gazing down at Fred’s feet below you. A part of you thought that maybe he was joking, that maybe he was saying this to get you all worked up and he would ask you out later that day. But one look at George’s guilt-ridden face and you knew exactly what Fred’s summer had consisted of.

Fred looked around as the silence passed, wondering why everyone had suddenly become so quiet. “How about you, Y/N, anything fun happen?”

“Well umm, nothing too exciting,” you said. “Mostly hung out with some old friends, went swimming a lot.” You looked at Fred, wondering if you could get a reaction out of him. “There...there was this one guy.”

That wasn’t a complete lie. There was this one guy, your best friend's cousin, who you had spent a lot of time with in the last three months. You would drive around late at night and get up early to watch the sunset. But one night when he kissed you, you had to pull away. Your heart belonged to Fred, and it felt like cheating to be making out with someone who wasn’t your soulmate. Apparently Fred didn’t have the same sentiment.

“That’s great!” he exclaimed, the complete opposite reaction you were looking for. You had wanted him to get upset, jealous even. But if anything he looked relieved. “See,” he whispered so only you could hear, “I told you this would work out. We each do our own thing and get together in a long while. This is perfect!”

You didn’t say anything, only smiled and leaned back into your seat. George subtly moved forward and put a comforting hand on your knee, letting you know that he understood and he was with you. You gave him a reassuring look. It would be ok. Fred had probably gotten it out of his system over the summer. You could see how things went this year.

February 1996

Gryffindor parties were always the events of the month, rivaled only by Slytherin’s secret and exclusive gatherings. There was everything any teenager needed: food, firewhisky, and sex.

You and Angelina were taking shots in the corner, laughing and stumbling over yourselves. You scanned the crowded common room, eyes focusing on George dancing like a madman in the middle of the room, knocking over a few girls with how wildly he was moving.

You looked at your friend who was gazing lovingly at the ginger boy. “Hey,” you said, “can I ask you something.”

Angelina took her eyes off of George and gave you her full attention. “Of course.”

“When you and George found out you were each other’s soulmates, what happened? I mean, you weren’t dating before but you got together over the summer. Aren’t you worried you’re missing out on other people?”

Your friend knew where this was really coming from. She grabbed you a drink and took you to sit down. “Thing is,” she said, “at first we didn’t want to date. We both kind of thought that we weren’t ready for anything too serious, so we did our own thing for a few months. But we kept writing over the summer and I realized that he’s my best friend and I didn’t want to go any longer without being with him. As much as the both of us hate the concept of settling down, we realized that we don’t have to suddenly turn around and be married. We’re taking it one day at a time, but constantly talking about our relationship and where we think it’s going.”

You nodded, starting to understand. “Are you guys exclusive? Or are you seeing other people as well?”

“We’re exclusive. Like I said we’re nothing serious, but we don’t want to mess up what we have. So far it’s going great, just taking it slow and getting to know each other even more. Is there a reason you’re asking me this?”

You muttered a “no” but Angelina didn’t believe you for a second.

“How are things with Fred?” she asked. “Have you two been talking about your relationship?”

“Not really,” you said. “He likes to ignore the fact that we’re soulmates. Nothing has changed since we found out. But it’s ok though, we’re just waiting until we’re ready.”

Your friend watched you take another shot of firewhisky, face scrunching up in distaste. You had looked so sad the past few months, and Angelina knew the reason. “But you’re ready now, aren’t you?”

You whipped your head around, groaning as the quick motion made you dizzy. “What…” you said, holding your throbbing head, “what do you mean?”

“You love him. You have for forever, Y/N, and this must be killing you.”

“No!” you argued. “It’s fine. Fred will tell me when he’s ready for a relationship and we can settle down then.”

“And wreck yourself in the process?” Angelina asked. “Y/N, love, I know that you two are soulmates, but you can’t let him treat you like this! He goes out and does what he wants and who he wants, knowing that you’ll always be there when he’s bored of all the other girls. You’re his fallback.”

Angry tears fell from your face. “I am not!” you yelled. “He loves me, he just doesn’t want anything serious, and I’m ok with that.”

“No you’re not!” she yelled back. “It’s tearing you apart. You need to talk to him.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried!”

Angelina went silent at this new information, watching you finally break down.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried talking to him, explaining that if we’re soulmates then maybe we should act like it. It kills me seeing him bring a different girl back to his dorm every night when he’s supposed to be with me.” You hit your head against the wall behind you hard enough that you knew there would be a bruise in the morning, but you didn’t care. “But every time he gets mad at me, saying that he can’t settle down, that he’s too young, that I’m being selfish and impatient.”

Angelina wrapped you up in a warm hug, stroking the back of your head softly. “Then you need to move on Y/N. If he doesn’t care about your feelings, then I’m sorry but you need to find someone else.”

You sniffled, lifting your gaze and seeing a Ravenclaw girl grinding up on Fred. He whispered something in her ear and dragged her out of the common room and up to his dorm. “I can’t,” you said. “He’s my soulmate. It’s destiny. We’re meant to be together, even if that means I have to break a little every time he’s with someone else. It’ll all work out, you’ll see.”

Angelina continued to hold you tightly, praying that one day you would see what was really happening.

April 1996

Cheers erupted from hundreds of students, all of whom were crowded in the courtyard, watching their new heroes fly away from Umbridge’s reign of terror. You stood silently on the outskirts of the group, disbelief coursing through you.

How could he leave you? You thought that he would at least tell you about it, at least sit you down and explain the future of your relationship. Would you stay in touch? Would you visit his shop often and hang out with him and George? Where was your friendship, and more importantly your relationship, going?

You pushed your way through the crowd, wanting more than ever to be alone right now. Angelina stopped you, a wide grin on her face. “Y/N! Did you see that? Oh I’ve been waiting weeks for them to finally make their escape, it was even better than I imagined.”

“You…” you said slowly, “you knew? They told you?”

“Of course! George told me a while ago. Didn’t Fred tell you?”

“I have to go,” you muttered, ignoring her calls and running back into the abandoned castle. You made it back to your dorm and threw yourself onto your bed, curling up into a ball.

You’d given Fred the benefit of the doubt so many times. You understood that he wanted to fool around for a while and you let him. But you thought that maybe once school was over things would change. Apparently you would never know, because he didn’t bother to even have a conversation about your future.

You should try to get over him. Yes, two months of no Fred would be perfect for you! You could see other people, something you hadn’t done in over a year, and it would be the perfect distraction.

But then you remembered his warm brown eyes and soft ginger hair. How happy he could make you with just one touch. You couldn’t give up on him, you were being foolish. Fate was never wrong. You just needed to keep waiting. Everything would be fine in time.

January 1997

Small snowflakes fluttered to the ground, the cold crisp air whipping your face as you made your weekly trip to Diagon Alley to visit Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. After you had graduated the first thing you did was run off the train and make your way to the shop. Fred and George were delighted to see you and they immediately talked about their success so far with their planning. Neither you nor Fred brought up what happened months ago.

After the first encounter, things seemed to go back to normal. You got a job at The Ministry involving Curse Breaking, which you enjoyed very much. You’d get up every day excited to go to work, and every Sunday afternoon you’d enter your friends’ shop for a day of talking and goofing around.

And just as things had remained the same, that included your relationship with Fred. He’d mention his different hookups, sometimes going into extreme detail that you really didn’t want to know. You asked him to stop talking about that and he did, but he didn’t stop his actions.

Today was the day you were going to talk with him. You couldn’t keep putting yourself through this heartbreak if it wasn’t going to end any time soon. It was the last chance you were giving him.

“Hey Freddie,” you said as you walked through the shop doors.

“Hey, love, how’s it going?”

“Pretty good, I was wondering if we could talk, somewhere private maybe?”

“Of course,” he replied, taking you up to the loft. You entered the familiar place and plopped down on the couch, hearing the shower running in the bathroom.

“Is George here,” you asked as he brought you a cup of coffee.

“Umm, not exactly,” Fred replied sheepishly. “The bathroom’s currently occupied by the person who occupied my time last night, if you know what I mean.”

You did. Your face turned red, whether with embarrassment or anger you didn’t know, hearing that the girl Fred hooked up with was just a room away from you. Gathering up all the strength you could, you finally told him everything you’d been holding back.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, actually.”

“My hookups?” Fred asked quizzically. “I thought you didn’t want to hear about those.”

“No,” you said shaking your head. “I wanted to talk about us. And where we’re going in the future.”

Fred groaned and threw his head back on the couch, rubbing his temple. “Oh not this again, Y/N. I thought we agreed that we’re too young for anything serious.”

“Well when I said that, I thought you meant that we’d finish out school and see where things went after that. We’re bloody adults now, shouldn’t we be talking about where we want this to go?” You were growing angry, not expecting Fred to be so blunt and rude about your feelings.

“I’m still 18, Y/N! I’m not ready for anything yet.”

“And when will you be? You keep saying you’re not ready and I keep staying by your side, waiting for that moment when you finally decide you love me. So when’s it gonna be, huh? Am I wasting my time?”

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed. “You’re being so annoying right now, why can’t we just be friends and figure it out when we get there?”

“Because I’m tired of giving you every part of me when you give me nothing in return! I...I can’t do this anymore.”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“I--excuse me?”

Fred stood up, gesturing for you to follow him. “How about we spend some time away from each other? You can work out whatever feelings you want to, and when I’m ready to settle down I’ll come find you.”

You were speechless, absolutely dumbfounded. Fred couldn’t be serious, could he? He’d come find you, like you were some lost puppy that belonged to him?

Fred grabbed your shoulders and gave you a peck on the forehead. “We’re soulmates, baby. There’s no rush for anything. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

This was it. This was what Angelina had warned you about. He was so comfortable knowing that you'd have to end up together that he didn’t bother to put in the effort. He knew no matter how many times he messed up, you would always be right around the corner ready to jump into his waiting arms. This was the last chance you had given him, and he blew it.

“I’ll just be going then,” you said, grabbing your things.

You stormed out of the room but Fred didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. Or maybe he did notice and he just didn’t care. You would always come back to him, wouldn’t you?

“Love ya, Y/N,” he called before turning his attention to the wet girl who was exiting his bathroom.

You left the loft in a hurry, not even bothering to say hi to George on the way out of the shop. You used to believe in fate and destiny, and deep down you still did. But you couldn’t keep counting on the universe to provide you with happiness when only one of you was putting in the effort. Almost two years of pining later, you decided it was time to move on.

May 1999

Fred slowly came down from his high, panting heavily and groaning in pleasure. He rolled off of the girl he was with this week, a cute blonde he had met at a bar, and stared up at the ceiling trying to catch his breath.

It was a good ride. It was always good, Fred prided himself in his abilities and the girls he was with were usually just as spectacular. But the past few months he had been growing tired of it.

Sure, he loved going out and meeting hot girls, dancing with them and bringing them back to his place for one night of lust and passion. But even that gets old after a while, and after years of thinking with his body, he was finally ready to think with his head and his heart. He was ready to see you.

The next day, Fred got dressed up, putting on a nice sweater and trousers, buying a bouquet of roses from a nearby flower shop. He hadn’t contacted you to let you know he was coming. He wanted it to be a surprise, and besides, you would definitely be thrilled to see him.

He made his way to your old place, hoping that you still lived there. He hadn’t seen you in over two years, not since the two of you decided to stop seeing each other until Fred was ready. And now, after long last, he was.

He knocked on the door of your apartment, bouncing on his toes in anticipation of seeing you for the first time in so long. He bet you’d gotten even hotter, and were somehow even kinder and funnier than you were before. To his surprise, it wasn’t you who opened the door, but a familiar face from back in his school days.

“Pucey?”

Adrian Pucey, a Slytherin in your year, was standing in the doorway, with ruffled hair and a bear chest with gray sweatpants. He smiled apprehensively at Fred, remembering how the two of them had never gotten along back in school.

“Hey Fred. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my soulmate,” Fred said, anger and jealousy evident in his tone.

Adrian paused and his smile vanished. He looked as if he wanted to slam the door in Fred’s face and never see him again. Fred then heard a voice calling from inside, and he peaked around to see you sprawled out on the couch wrapped up in a blanket.

“Adrian? Who’s there?” you asked.

“Babe, you might want to come see for yourself.”

Fred grimaced at the nickname. Any suspicions he had that you were dating Adrian were now confirmed, and he hated seeing you with anyone else.

As you reached the door you looked shocked to see Fred there, holding a large bouquet of flowers for you. “Why don’t you head back in, love,” you said to your boyfriend. “I’ll handle this.”

He smiled and pecked you lips, giving Fred one last glare before letting you shut yourself and Fred out in the hallway.

“It’s been a while,” you said. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Fred said, trying to hand you the roses but you refused, “I was thinking last night. About us, and about how I’m ready. To be with you.”

If he thought you were going to be elated about this news and drop everything, including your boyfriend, to be with him, he was completely wrong. You just stood there, looking if anything sad for him. “Oh Freddie.”

“What?” he asked, heart thumping in his chest. “What does that mean? I said I’m ready to settle down! To be with you. Isn’t that what you want?”

You scoffed, putting your hand on your temple like he did to you so any years before. “Look, I’m flattered, and I’m glad you’re finally ready to have something real. But it’s not going to be with me.”

Fred could physically feel his heart shatter into a million pieces at those words. “Not with you? What does that even mean, Y/N? We’re bloody soulmates!”

“Yeah well you didn’t seem to care about us being soulmates the countless times I wanted to talk to you about it!”

“I wasn’t ready then!”

“But I was! And you didn’t even take my feelings into consideration. I was constantly by your side, waiting for you to confess your feelings and ask me to be yours. Every day I broke a little more, because you treated me like absolute shit. So I’m done waiting Fred. I’ve moved on”

Fred couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You were supposed to be in love with him! The two of you were soulmates for a reason, how could you just settle down with someone else?

“What about Adrian’s soulmate?” he asked, voicing his thoughts. “Aren’t you depriving him of true love?”

You sighed heavily and looked at the closed door behind you, lowering your voice. “Adrian’s soulmate died a few years ago. She got really sick and didn’t make it. I ran into him while he was trying to get over her loss, and we really connected. We’ve been together for about a year now, and we’re both really happy.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Fred said, pacing up and down the hall. “We’re soulmates Y/N. The universe destined us to be together.”

Shaking your head you replied, telling Fred the conclusion you had come to after years of pain. “I don’t think it works like that. Soulmates aren’t two people who are going to be together no matter what happens. They’re two souls who, if they both contribute and try in the relationship, would make a perfect pair. But you, Fred, never tried. And I finally got over it. I love Adrian, and I’m happy about my decision.”

“No, no no no,” Fred said, growing panicked. “This can’t be it, Y/N, I can’t lose you.”

“You already did.”

Fred’s lip quivered slightly, eyes searching yours for any telltale sign that this was a joke. Some huge, elaborate prank. But it wasn’t. It took you a lot of time and soul searching, but you were at peace. You were fine without your soulmate, because for so many years he had been fine without you.

“Let me go, Freddie. Because I let you go a long time ago.”

The two of you stood there, all feelings out in the open. Fred had never felt so vulnerable around someone, and he never thought once that he would have to let you go.

The door slowly creaked open and Adrian stepped back out, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head. “You alright, darling?”

You kept looking at Fred, imagining all of the things that could’ve been, that never would be. “Yeah, I’m fine. Fred was just leaving.”

You turned around to your apartment, not even bothering to look back. Before you shut the door, Fred could see a beautiful smile grace your lips at something Adrian had said. You were happy. He was making you happy.

In a perfect world, you and Fred would be an ideal match. If both of you put in the effort and tried for the best, you’d have the best relationship possible. It was fate.

But fate is a fickle thing. You can’t try to trick destiny into doing what you want. Fred had thought that no matter what he did, the universe would give him what he believed he deserved. The universe doesn’t work like that.

Maybe, if he had taken some form of responsibility for his actions and actually cared about what was happening in the moment, it could’ve been him cuddling up next to you, falling asleep with his arms around you and hearing how much you loved him. But he didn’t. He tested fate, and he would forever pay the price for his actions.

Tag List: @famdomhideout

#lovepeachh600writingchallenge #abby's week of weasley #fredweasley #fred #fredweasleyfic #georgeweasley #george weasley #soulmates #soulmate au #harry potter #hogwarts #weasleys wizard wheezes #fred weasley

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mandareeboo · 3 years

Note

ok now im curious what your most petty thing is (regarding the dp post)

Oooh boy, here we go! Buckle up fuckers this is gonna be a longer one.

My senior year of high school, I took a creative writing class. Partially because I needed to fill the slot, mostly because I wanted to improve my writing (spoiler: I did not). Now, my high school was a three floor building- first was mostly gym, second was general, and the third was senior lockers and art classes. I spent a good chunk of my schedule senior year on the second and third floor, going between an art class to my earth science (I took that one entirely as filler, but also bc I like science) to my locker and so on.

Creative writing? Creative writing was in the fucking basement. Go to the first floor, go to a corner generally used for health and development classes, to another corner, follow a ramp and some stairs, and boom there it is kind of basement. (Side note but this teacher was REALLY into attendance and would get you in trouble if you were late which was really annoying since basically no other class was in that part of the building).

My creative writing teacher wasn't bad, per se. I've had worse teachers. I had an algebra teacher who delighted in making freshman girls cry and mocking them for it. I had a journalism teacher who would use her class time reporting how Hilary was secretly ill during the election. I had a history teacher say trans people weren't real to an openly gender nonconforming student (I didn't know them well enough to ask for specifics on their alignment, but they were using they/them at that point) and set up assignments just to mock students on the take they were told to make. It was more that she was uncreative and took it out on the kids doing creative writing.

She gave us two books to read. Basically “how I write” by published authors. I don’t remember the first one well enough and I donated it ages ago, but the second was Stephen King’s “On Writing”. It was 3/4′s personal stories about his life and 1/4′s “also write a bit every day”. I mostly remember the first author bc she had those fake dreadlocks white people do when they destroy their hair and she gleefully told a story about making her son have a meltdown at a party or wedding or something bc he got overwhelmed and she wanted him to learn that “sometimes you don’t get what you want”. So. You know. Not much there.

She also instructed us to write in a journal every day, which she would check every few months or so. It had to be at least half a page. She would leave little comments in every one else’s journals when she checked them, but not mine- I realized pretty quickly she was a bit uncomfortable with LGBT+ content, so I made it my mission to make every journal drabble as gay as possible bc I was bored and she couldn’t mark them WRONG when she just stated we needed to write.

But it doesn’t end there! Through the entire class, we got exactly five writing projects. Stories that follow very specific guidelines that we would then read in front of the class, group proofread, and then have the teacher give final grades for. These things were approximately like a thousand words a piece, and I was writing out my 10,000 word “It Starts off Small” story in class when I got bored, so it wasn’t difficult.

Our first project was a character going through a difficult decision. Or... something? I honestly forget the criteria. Anyway, I was HYPE. I’d had this idea for a long time now a human choosing between peaceful death or reincarnation, and this gave me the push to write it! I had a whole thing planned with death being a deer and reincarnation being a wolpertinger (bc reincarnation leads to many possibilities, ed boy, so a Frankenstein bunny made sense to me). Anyway I poured my heart and soul into this bastard and, bright eyed and bushy tailed, handed it in. My classmates all thought it was pretty good. Not to toot m’own horn, but there was some pretty bad ones going in, so I thought I’d get a solid B or something.

I got a D. I guess the struggle was too metaphorical, or it didn’t perfectly fit her criteria. I was devastated. Then I was mad. Bc I was a bored senior who thought they’d made something pretty decent for this completely optional class and her refusal to see that really hurt me at sixteen (I was always a year younger than my other classmates, so despite being a senior I didn’t turn eighteen until almost a year after graduation)

Well, fuck it, I decided. I’m going to parody the shit out of this class.

Our next project was a fantasy story. I was bitter and grumpy. The other fantasy stories read aloud were stuff like “yeah this dude fought a wizard and got a girl, then they went home and banged” (this was not hyperbole, he would’ve written and read the smut if allowed, I knew him personally) and “this girl that NO ONE UNDERSTOOD was called CRAZY but this S@!$ cheerleader who Stole Her Boyfriend so she killed them all” (fun fact: the girl who wrote that was my age and a sort of half-friend from middle school. She was a yaoi fangirl who didn’t mind lesbians as long as they, you know, didn’t FLIRT with her or something.)

So I get up there. It’s the last day of presentations. And I present with a polite cheer. My story is about two magical shepherd type figures who are called Sister Brighten and Brother Dick as they chase down a werewolf who was drunk off his ass and accidentally bit someone else. They then revealed they were basically supernatural designated drivers for the whole town. I made Brighten mention that Dick’s name wasn’t even Richard. I titled it “His Favorite Brand is Grayhound”. It fit every single criteria. I got an A. I could tell she didn’t want to, because there was no comments or anything like everyone else’s, but she had to follow her own criteria.

Our third was a conjoined effort thing so I didn’t pull any fuckery there, but the fourth one was about common myths and spinning them into real or fake. One girl did the hook-handed door handle thing and the boyfriend ended up above his truck hanging (somehow???). I think someone did the age-old adage of a haunted wedding dress? I kind of read through those presentations.

Now, I’m salty-salty at this point. I wasn’t expecting His Favorite Brand is Grayhound to get me a good grade. I half-assed a lot of it. I am in full Not Happy Teenager at this point. I grab a daddy long leg and settle in.

My fourth story of the year is “Paperskin.”

Paperskin is about a boy named Billy with the thinnest skin membrane ever. Just full on body horror. You could see his teeth behind his lips. Billy gets bored one day and wanders out of his house, tries to kick a soccer ball, and breaks a leg. As he’s laying in the grass a daddy long leg bites him- and his skin is so flimsy the fangs sink in and he dies. I’m actually still pretty proud of Paperskin. It’s a horrifying, Edgar Allen Poe of a monstrosity, but it made people squirm, which was the point. The teacher is clearly a bit unnerved at this point, but she gives me another A.

I wrote a more “normal” story after that of a contentious objector forced to house kids going to see if any confirmed soldier deaths were any of their parents as my final one and I could feel her spite as she gave me a B.

So, yeah. That’s the story of when I tormented my creative writing teacher with The Gays and my weird ass sense of humor after she called one of my best works at that age a piece of shit.

Here’s a google drive of these bad boys, because yes I do still have these things. I turned these fuckers in for grades, people.

#Ask #Anon #Question Mandar #Life #Humor #Writing #I was a good kid I swear #I didn't make much noise and I didn't argue much #It was just this one lady

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meigh-day · 3 years

Text

Mine (Bokuto x F!Reader)

Title: Mine

Pairing: Time Skip Bokuto x F!Reader

Characters: Bokuto, Atsumu, Hinata, Sakusa, Female Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, Mild angst to fluff

Status: Complete

Word Count: 5k

———————————————————–

"Hey, Y/N?"

The sound of running water and a voice at your side brought your hazy thoughts back to the present. You hummed a response as your eyes focused, widening at the sight of water overflowing into the basin. "Ah, shit..."

"You ok?" Atsumu tilted his head at you, concern lightly pulling at his features. He watched you hurriedly turn off the tap and replace the cap on the bottle before giving him your attention.

"Mhm, I'm fine." A smile trails onto your lips, as you offer up lies of reassurance. You were fine. Sorta. Good enough to be at practice anyway. Sure, your head was dully throbbing and you felt far too warm on such a cool day. But yea you were fine. The blonde setter made a small sound of disbelief as he pressed his hand to your cheek.

"Fine huh?" He frowned down at you. "Do ya think I'm an idiot? What are ya doing here when yer sick?"

He had a point. Why were you here when you were sick? It wasn't like this was an official practice. Some of the jackals had wanted to get in a little extra practice over the weekend and it's not like you had to even be here. So why had you taken time away from your days off to come? Well that was easy. A certain grey haired spiker was going to be there and the two of you just so happened to have plans to hang out later.

"Who else is going to take care of you guys?" You laugh, gathering up the bottles but before you can lift them they are already up and off the floor. "Hey..."

"Ya know it's a good thing Sakusa isn't here today... he'd have yer sick ass outta here so fast..." Atsumu settles the bottles into his arms and looks down at you as you stand.

"I know..." Your eyes shift to the side, your expression looking fairly pathetic.

He sighed. "Look if ya promise to take it easy then ya can stay for all I care."

You look up at him, a smile brightening your features. "Really?"

"Yeah yeah... I'll take care of water for the guys. Just relax and take notes or something."

"I will. Promise. Oh uhm... Atsumu?"

---------------------------

A pair of golden eyes watched the two of you from around the corner. Watching as Atsumu gently caressed your cheek. Watching as you smile up at him. It was difficult to hear what the two of you were talking about, especially with Miya's back to him, but that way you responded spoke volumes. And if what he saw wasn't enough, the words that did reach his ears, sealed the deal.

"Hm?" Atsumu turned back to you as his name left your lips.

"Don't tell Bokuto."

---------------------------

Bokuto stood, arms crossed and a look of irritation all over his features. The two of you were supposed to be hanging out together later. In fact the two of you had been spending quite a bit of time together outside of the team. At first the two of you just found yourselves together during team outings and before you knew it that had lead to exchanged numbers and a generic 'we should hang out sometime' sentiment. However, that sentiment had actually become a reality and soon the two of you were texting every night, having dinner together or going to a movie. Sometimes you'd just walk together after practice was over for the day. The time spent with you had started to become special to him but it was obviously not as special to you. Not with the way you had been smiling up like a lovesick puppy at that damned Miya idiot.

---------------------------

"Bokuto!"

"Huh?" He turned at the call of his name but it was too late. He watched as the ball sailed by him and dropped to the floor, rolling under the net.

Hinata went running after it as Atsumu turned, hands on his hips. "I dunno what yer daydreamin about but if yer not gonna spike my sets then I'll send 'em to someone else."

Bokuto grit his teeth, turning wide angry eyes at the blonde setter, ready to let him have it but before he could get out a word he was interrupted.

"Ah, damn it. Hold that thought." Atsumu was watching you from across the court, gathering water bottles like the rebel you were. He proceeded to march past the angry grey haired spiker and over to you before he unceremoniously hauled the bottles from your arms.

"Ah, ah... We talked about this." You huffed at him, trying and failing to grab at the bottles while he easily swatted your hands away.

"Now settle down or else." He smirked at you as he glanced over to Bokuto and then back at you.

You followed his gaze, his implication clear. Consider your attention grabbed. With a pout, your hands drooped to your sides in defeat. "Yea yea, I'll just sit here and do nothing I guess..."

"Good." He smirked down at you and proceeded to give you a head pat before briskly exiting the gym.

With a sigh you picked up your notebook and pen, intent on at least taking some notes for the guys. Normally you tried to be more involved in their practices. Making sure they had enough water and towels, taking notes and even tossing balls for them. Just anything they might need. You really cared about each of them and wanted to see them all do well, so it was annoying that you couldn't do much else except take notes and sit down without Miya noticing and mothering you. Though there was a small part of you that was thankful for his watchful eye, just gathering the water bottles had kinda taken it out of you and you were starting to wondering if it had really had been a bad idea coming today.

As you turn back to the court you are met by a pair of crossed arms and a frown. A smile immediately spreads across your lips. "Hey Bo."

You couldn't help the way your lips parted as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, your eyes lighting up, whenever he was near. What had definitely started as a friendship had started to turn into something else, at least for you. You always had so much fun with him, didn't matter what you were doing, you were just happy to be with him.

He does not return your smile, in fact his frown only seems to deepen at the sight of it. "So you're getting Miya to do all your work?"

"What? No. He...uh...just..." You stammer a little trying to think of a plausible excuse without exposing the fact that you were sick to the one person you were trying to keep it from.

Bokuto let out an annoyed huff as he looked away. "I really don't care. Just try to keep the flirting to a minimum."

"Flirt... What? Bo it's not like that."

"No? Then why are you even here today? It's just an extra practice, no reason for you to have come in the first place." Your expression fell at this words. While making plans to hang out you had offered to come along to practice since you were free anyway and, at the time, Bokuto had eagerly agreed. Now it seemed like he was regretting any and all enthusiasm he'd once expressed at the idea.

"I just wanted to help you guys out today." Your voice came out a little quieter than normal. It was true, your intentions weren't totally selfless for being here. You took every chance you could to be around Bokuto, even if it was merely watching from the bench as he practiced. He was such a beautiful person inside and out but there was something special about watching him playing that made him really glow. However, your doubts at coming today began to flood back in as he questioned your presence.

"By what? Sitting around doodling in your notebook? Honestly, y/n if you aren't going to do your actual job then you should just go home. We don't need you here."

We don't need you here...

Don't need you here...

Don't need you...

Go home.

His words felt like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head. "You don't..." The rest of the words died on your tongue as you saw his irritated expression staring you down. "Oh." You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes lower, willing the tears that were stinging your eyes not to fall.

You take in a slow breath as you slip the notebook into your bag. This was not how you had seen your day turning out. You'd wanted to spend time with the team and do your best to help them. Then you'd hoped to end the day with Bokuto, someone who had become really special to you, but now you were left holding back tears as you turned back to him. "I, uh, " You feel your voice waiver and think better of whatever you had been about to say. " Sorry..." The apology is quick, almost as quick as the bow you offer up before hurrying out of the gym.

There are two pairs of eyes watching as you leave and both are confused. Bokuto lets out a sigh as he rakes a hand through his hair. He was already regretting this. It's not like you were his girlfriend and yet here he was being a total ass to you just because you were getting friendly with Miya. It shouldn't bother him so much but it did. He likes you. Liked you? Likes... Shit. After a moment he turns and start across the gym, his mind in disarray.

---------------------------

Atsumu wanders back in several minutes later, water and towels in hand. He sets them down on the bench, noting your absence on the bench as well as within the gym itself. Hinata grins at the blonde as he picks up one of the bottles. " Thanks Atsumu!"

"Mhm. Shoyo, where's Y/N?"

Hinata freezes a moment, opens his mouth and then closes it before quickly glancing around. Atsumu isn't sure what the hell this kid is doing, its almost like he didn't realize she was gone and is frantically looking around. Hinata was in fact looking around, but not for Y/N, he was merely making sure it was just the two of them before he spoke. "Oh, uh, she went home."

"Oh yea? Good. She shouldn't have come in the first place." Hinata went to open his mouth, an objection ready on his lips but then Atsumu continued. "She must like him an awful lot to come here sick on her day off..."

"Sh... Wh... Huh? Y/N is sick?!"

Atsumu looked down at the surprised red-head. " Yea. Isn't that why she left?"

Hinata pressed his lips together as his gaze travelled across the gym.

---------------------------

"What the hell is wrong with ya?!" Bokuto glanced up in time to see the approaching blonde heave a bottle at him, a curse falling from his lips as he fumbled to catch it.

"I.. what?"

"Don't pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about! I heard what ya said to Y/N you ass!" Atsumu yelled as he followed up the bottle with a towel.

The towel sailed across the small space between them and hit Bo square in the face, the larger man just having managed to get his hands on the bottle. "Knock it off Miya!" Bo grumbled as he pulled the towel off his head before tossing it onto the ground.

"Where do ya get off talkin to Y/N like that? Sendin' her off like she's some huge inconvenience."

Bokuto lets out a huff, muttering something under his breath as he turns his face away from the setter. Atsumu narrows his eyes at the man before him. "What the hell do ya have to be grumbling about you big idiot! Yer not tha one who got yelled at. She only came in today to try and help and ya sent her home like she'd done some terrible thing!" Atsumu crossed his arms, annoyance clear all over his face as he started to turn away." I don't get why she likes ya so much... Comin’ here on her day off... and sick too."

Bokuto was already feeling badly about what he had done even before the setter had come over to scold him. He hadn't meant anything he'd said. It didn't matter to him why you had come in, he was just happy to see you. He had been looking forward to seeing you after practice to hang out and maybe finally tell you how he really felt. But he'd let jealousy rear its ugly head and his harsh words had sent you away.

He watched as Atsumu started to walk away, the setter’s final words hanging heavy on his shoulders. You were sick. Sick?! Bokuto's eyes widen, his feet moving as he grabbed for the other man. "Sick? Y/N is... sick?" Atsumu turned, his annoyance softening a little at the stricken look on Bokuto's face. "Yea. I tried to get her to go home earlier but she was keen on stayin'... Wanted to see you..." He paused as he pressed his lips together and shook his head as he looked Bokuto up and down. "...for some reason." Bokuto let his hand fall away, the setter merely sighing as he gave him a pat on the shoulder before striding across the gym.

A moment later the doors to the gym open to reveal a rather damp Sakusa. He stalks into the gym, swipes a towel off the bench and starts drying himself off. "What happened to you?" Miya smirks at the man who simply returns a glare. "It's fucking pouring outside you dumbass." Atsumu tries and fails to catch the wet towel before it hits him in the face.

"Raining?!" Bo appears before them, worry etched into his features. Sakusa merely offers a grunt of affirmation before disappearing into the change room. The two men left behind exchange glances before turning their gaze to the doors.

-------------------------------------------

You had managed to make it out of the gym and almost a whole street away before tears started to slowly trail down your cheeks. Today was supposed to be special. You were going to go to practice, hang out with Bo afterwards and maybe, just maybe, finally confess your feelings. But now you were walking home, kicked out by the very person you had gone to see, and now you were crying. It felt like everything good about the day had turned sour and now all that was left was a bitter feeling that seemed to grow heavier with each step. In fact it seemed so heavy that you almost felt like you were having trouble walking. It's not like you were sick and probably had a fever and because of that your steps were much more sluggish. Nope, definitely not.

You wiped at your tears with your sleeve, letting out a heavy sigh as you trudged along the side walk. A moment later you felt one and then another slide down your cheek and you wiped those away too. It did strike you as a little strange, you were pretty sure you had stopped crying. As that thought struck you another drop fell on your cheek, and then another, it was only when you looked up that you realized it had started to rain.

Within a few minutes the small droplets that had started to fall turned into a downpour. You were running, your bag held over your head, as you tried to search for some shelter to wait out the rain. You're apartment was too far to keep going in this weather and your body was starting to feel fuzzy. Well your head was at least. Despite the cool air and even cooler rain that feel you felt too warm.

Finally, a small bit of luck came your way in the form of a park. There were several large trees that would do rather nicely to at least partially shelter you from the rain. You hurried under the nearest one, leaning against it as you let your bag drop to the ground and try to catch your breath. With each sharp inhale more dots began to dance in your vison. Your shaky legs deposited you at the base of the tree and as your vison goes black, your body going limp, you swear you hear someone calling your name.

-----------------------------------------

Heavy footsteps pound on the sidewalk as Bokuto frantically searches for you. He knew the route you took home each day, he's walked it with you enough that he could practically walk it blindfolded. He had tried calling and texting you before racing out of the gym. Even now, in the rain, he had his phone to his ear in another attempt to get a hold of you. With each failed attempt the guilt dug further into his stomach. The things he had said kept repeating in his mind. How could he say such mean words, such lies?! Truth was the team did need you there. He needed you there. It didn't matter if you just sat on the sidelines doing absolutely nothing, just you being there was all he needed.

With a sigh he taps the call button one more time. " Please… please answer." He begs to the air as the ringing starts again. A small distance away, a melody can be heard playing in time with each ring in his ear. At first Bokuto thinks nothing of it but as it gets louder with each step he finds his already fast pace increasing. A moment later he sees you, huddled under a tree to hide from the rain, but the tiny moment of relief he felt is gone in an instant as he sees you collapse. The only thing he utters is your name as he runs across the grass, dropping to your side and pulling your trembling body into his arms.

"Oh my god. Y/N?!" He takes in your appearance, drenched from the sudden downpour and cheeks flushed against your otherwise pale skin. Bokuto can feel tears in his eyes as he looks down at you in his arms. It was his fault you were out here in the first place instead of warm and dry inside the gym. Hell if he'd bothered to actually pay attention to you today instead of wallowing in jealousy maybe he would have seen you were sick and you'd be home, safe and comfortable. Because of him you were much worse off. Bo shook his head and grit his teeth. This was not the time to be floundering in self-pity. He needed to get you somewhere safe and now. So with that goal in mind, he scooped you up into his arms and took off.

-----------------------------------

Every time you opened you eyes you saw him. It was like your mind was playing some awful joke on you yet you couldn't help but feel comfort at the sight. Your eyes wouldn't open long but when they did you were greeted by Bokuto's face, concern carved into each feature. Sometimes it almost felt like he was really there, his large hands gently pressing against your cheek or forehead, his normally boisterous voice gentle and soft as he reassured you that you were going to be ok.

Finally, your eyes did open and they stayed open. The room was dark except for a soft light coming from the table lamp beside you. As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, confusion and panic started to eat away at the sluggishness you had been feeling. This was not your room, not your blanket and, when you look down at yourself, not your clothes.

"What the fu--" You pause, your eyes settling on the figure at your side. Bokuto's large frame was hunched over the side of the bed, his head resting on the crook of one arm the other outstretched, hand resting over your leg. One more quick inspection confirmed this was Bokuto's room, his blanket and.... oh my god... his clothes. After a moment he started to stir, his yellow eyes slowly opening as he yawned.

"Morning..." You say quietly. He hums in response but then freezes, his eyes traveling up to yours and then he's on his feet. "Y/N?! You're awake!" He cries out, hand pressing against your cheek and then forehead before he grabs you by the shoulders. "I was so worried!" Before you can do or say a thing you find yourself crushed against his chest as he pulls you into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have said those things to you. We do need you, we always need you. We'd be nothing without you!" Bokuto relaxes his hold on you and you can feel him take a deep breath before speaking again, his voice coming out softer this time. "But as much as the team needs you... I-I need you." He whispered, pulling you tightly against his chest, one large hand firmly against your back while the other cradled your head. You relaxed into him, cheek pressed against the top of his shoulder as he whispered apologies into your hair while you softly trailed your hand up and down his back.

You felt your cheeks grow red from his confession and were thankful your face was hidden against him at the moment. "I hope you can forgive me Y/N. I was.. Well... I got jealous when I saw you talking to ‘Sumu and took it out on you. You don't deserve to be treated like that and I get it if you don't want to be friends or anything anymore but I promise I'll be better from now on."

He paused, almost holding his breath as he waited in the silence that followed. When you said nothing he felt his poor little heart breaking but he understood. He had been so mean to you and for no reason. After a moment he started to pull away, certain this must be a very awkward position to be in, when he felt your arms slide around his middle, your hand pressing into his back as you return the hug.

"Oh.. Uh.. You don't ---" Bokuto stammered before your slightly muffled voice broke through. "It's ok Bo. But you're right... I don't want to be friends anymore." You could feel his body stiffen in your arms at your admission and you could only imagine the heartbroken expression he must have on his face. You kept your arms around him and continued on. "I don't think I can keep being just your friend... I want to be more to you than that."

Bo released his hold around you, pulling away as he looked down at you, his own cheeks flushed at your confession. " You mean it?!" He looked so uncertain yet hopeful, like one word from you would break him down or build him up. You finally lean back and look up at him, a soft smile on your lips. "Bo, I've liked you for as long as I've known you. One bad day isn't going to change that." That was it, you could have simply nodded at him and he would have been elated but in just a few words you simultaneously filled his heart with joy and relief. Tears started to well in his eyes as he sniffled and you could feel your own tears wanting to fall.

"Hey now, no tears." You smiled up at him through your own glassy eyes, gently swiping a thumb across the apple of his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into your soft touch before his own smile stretch across his lips. "Like you're one to talk." He peeked down at you before mimicking your action, his thumb coming away wet.

The two of you sat in each others arms a little longer, relishing in the new warmth and comfort your confessions had brought. As your thoughts began to settle, a new question began to bubble to the surface and curiosity begged to have it answered. "Uh, Bo?" You lean up and away a bit so you can see his face. He sits up as well, his arms releasing their hold on you only to have his hands searching for your own. "Hmm?" He looks at you expectantly but you find yourself a little distracted as you gaze down at your intertwined hands.

"Y/N?"

"Oh, uh right." You look down at yourself a moment, taking in the shirt and shorts that were obviously too big for you, before looking back up at him. "These are yours, right?" He nods in affirmation, a small blush on his cheeks as he notes how cute you look in his clothes.

"Uhm, " You pause, the question poised on your lips has your cheeks turning a dark shade of pink. " How...uh... That is to say.. Uhm... How did I... get in them?"

Bo smirked, watching you stutter through your question, almost too distracted by how adorable you are to really listen but after a moment his expression shifts to confusion. "Huh?"

You fidget around a little, not really wanting to repeat it. "How did I get in them? I... I don't remember changing myself so... did... You. Or?" You let the sentence trail off, too embarrassed by the implication of what you had said.

"What? No!" Bo laughed and then froze when he realized what you must have been thinking. "Oh my god!! No No no!! I didn't! I swear!" He was frantically waving his hands in front of him, his face red and eyes wide. "I would never... I mean not that I don't want to see.. Shit I mean not like this... Oh my god shut me up." He covered his face with both his hands in an attempt to hide just how embarrassed he was from the sudden word vomit.

You on the other hand were highly amused and trying not to laugh. "Bo. Bo?" You pull at his arm to try and reveal his very red face but he doesn't budge. "Hey, It's fine just tell me what happened. Honestly, the last thing I remember is being in the park. After that it's all a bit fuzzy." He peeks at you through his fingers and finally relents after you aim a sweet smile his way. He goes on to tell you how he found you and carried you to his place since it was much closer. How he wrapped you in about three blankets while he called one of his sister's over to help. She had been the one to change your clothes and dry you off while Bokuto paced like a nervous wreck in front of the bathroom door the entire time.

You made a mental note to thank her in the future but for now, with your curiosity sated, you felt the pull of sleep at your body. Bokuto noticed it too, watching as your eyes started to droop. "You should get some more rest. You're not fully recovered yet and I want to take my girlfriend on a date as soon as possible." His words had you nodding slowly, you knew you weren't fully recovered yet and sleep did sound nice, a date sounded even better. Wait. You pause and glance up at him, the drowsiness momentarily paused. "Girlfriend? On a date?" He grinned down at you, the soft sleepy smile on your lips warming his heart. "Mhm, now get some rest."

You can't help the silly lopsided grin on your face as you start to lay back down, sleep already tugging at your mind. "Bo?" He pauses, body halfway standing as he moved to get off the bed. "Stay with me?" You request has his heart squeezing. "I'm not going anywhere." He says as he starts to move back into the chair. "No.." You mumble, peeking an eye open at him and pointing beside you. "Here." Bokuto just about trips over himself when you make your request all the more clear. Both of your eyes open when you hear him stumble, the chair stuttering across the floor as he braces himself on it. He looks down at you to see you peering up at him, a small little pout on your lips. "Please?"

He drags a hand across his face and through his hair, his nerves feeling a little frazzled. "I- are you sure?" He finally asks, already noting how easily he's caving into to you. A smile breaks out across your sleepy face as you reach out to him with grabby hands. Well, how could he resist? Bokuto crawls into the bed beside you, a little unsure how much space to give you. You on the other hand are quick to wiggle over until you are nestled up against him, sleep and sickness throwing any shame you may have normally felt out the window. Taking a cue from you, he slips an arm under you and pulls you closer, your head now resting on his chest. He lays there listening to your breath start to even out, his free hand carefully pushing your hair away from your face, fingers gently twirling the ends.

This was not how either of you saw your day ending, or how you had planned to confess but somehow it seemed to work out just right. Maybe in the morning, when both your brains had recovered with some sleep and inhibitions were back, there might be lingering embarrassment from waking up in the same bed, from words you’d said or sleepy demands made. Though, none of that would matter. Not when, in the end, he gets to call you his and you get to call him mine.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #hinata #sakusa #x reader #msby #Bokuto kotaro

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luxekook · 5 years

Text

chapter one.

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I'm pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

"Come on, bitches! Let's get some drinks," Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?" She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion... He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona," he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey? We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung...

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa

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kkusuka · 3 years

Text

Third year songs <3

this is most of the thrid years- not all

from my spotify liked playlist <3

comes with a side of slight character analysis

These are my interpretations of HQ characters and these songs!!

Time-skip spoilers!! (very slight)

---

Karasuno

Daichi Sawamura

Waiting for Superman- Daughtry

She's waiting for Superman

To lift her up

And take her anywhere

Show her love

And climbing through the air

Save her now

Before it's too late tonight

She's waiting for Superman

Daichi seems like he makes a lot of promises, that he just can’t physically keep. He just has so many things going on that he just can’t pay attention to all of them at once. This leads to far too many forgotten dates and even more broken promises. You know its not his fault and he does too, he just can’t leave anyone hanging.

Koushi Sugawara

Island- Florida Georgia Line

We might as well be on an island

Like we're the last two on this Earth

Like we're frozen here in time

Like it's empty here tonight

I feel like suga likes to put himself back into happier times. And that he tries to hold into happy moments as they are happening. He says he is a man of the moment, but when he feels down, he tries to put himself back into the more joyous times.

Asahi Azumane

You say- Lauren Daigle

You say I am loved when I can't feel a thing

You say I am strong when I think I am weak

And you say I am held when I am falling short

And when I don't belong, oh You say I am Yours

And I believe (I)

Oh, I believe (I)

What You say of me (I)

I believe

Asahi is clearly very attached to how people perceive him. So when people shower him with compliments, he attaches onto them. He likes what makes him comfortable and he wants to stay comfortable for as long as he can. Words are important to him, so when he hears something bad it can ruin him for a while. He really does believe what the people he loves say to him.

Kiyoko Shimizu

Mothers daughter- Miley Cyrus

Oh my gosh, she got the power

Oh, look at her, she got the power

So, so, so

…

Must be something in the water

Or that I'm my mother's daughter

The power this woman carries. She’s built her confidence and she’s not letting anyone ruin it for her. I truly believe that her friends all become more confident because she wants everyone around her to feel confident too. Since she doesn't speak all that much she lets her body language do most of the expression.

Nekoma

Tetsurō Kuroo

High school sweethearts- Melanie Martinez

Could you hold me through the night?

Put your lips all over my mine

Salty face when I start cryin'

Could you be my first time?

Eat me up like apple pie

Kuroo definitely takes trust very seriously. I feel he’s also really scared of someone breaking this trust, so he does form it with a lot of people. That saying if he does, he wants it to last forever.

(...Step twoThis is a waste if you can't walk me down the finish line…)

He truly believes in the people he surrounds himself with.

Nobuyuki Kai

Kill the Lights- Set it Off

Now I am cutting ties clean off

And I can breathe at last

So we all stand enthralled by this bland curtain call

And the truth we pursue as we all, we all beg you to

Kai seems like he wasn't really that invested in volleyball, so having all these passionate people around him was a shock. But he really got into third year, and he wants people to feel that passion too. In the back of his mind he feels bad for not feeling it like the rest of the team, but since looking in the past means nothing now, he tries to move on.

Morisuke Yaku

Mama- Mcr

And when we go don't blame us, yeah

We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah

You made us oh so famous;

We'll never let you go

And when you go don't return to me my love

I mean, he is part of the mom squad. But it's ever so slightly more deep. I’m gonna say it's momma-bird syndrome. He doesn't want people to move on without him, seeing people achieve their dreams is great but he doesn't want you to do it if that means loving him.

Seijoh

Tōru Oikawa

Prom Queen- Beach Bunny

Maybe I should try harder

You should lower your expectations

I'm no quick-curl barbie

I was never cut out for prom queen

I feel like oikawa is constantly feeling like he has to catch up to everyone around him. At some point in Argentina he came to the conclusion that he was good enough and didn't need to rise to anyone's standards of him, but when he got picked for the national team everything came back. He still has all of those feelings from high-school. Never making it to nationals, feeling like he failed his team.

Issei Matsukawa

Bubblegum Bitch- Marina and the diamonds

Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll

Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all

Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored

I'm the girl you'd die for

I feel like to earn Mattsun’s trust, he would put you through some ridiculous trial of sorts. I also feel that he is very comfortable with who he is, and he takes no shit about it. But that comes with the fact that he rarely takes fault in things, and that sparks arguments. He’ll use your love for him against you, he’ll be as cold as he can muster, until YOU take fault.

Takahiro Hanamaki

OUT THE ROOF- Chase Atlantic

Yeah, we stay lit

We fuck bitches, pop on pillies, that is it, yeah

Holy moly, holy shit, yeah

Me and all my people are heaven sent, yeah, yup

9this is a strait vibe for Makki)

I feel like Makki drowns his problems out with meaningless activities. Like smoking or one-night stands. He’d rather drown out his problems then have them in his face. Or when he’s forced to face them, he’ll deflect until he has nothing else to deflect. Because when you’re high there nothing to worry about! Why stress about meaningless problems when he can be having fun!

Hajime Iwaizumi

Endlessly- The Cab

Yeah, your friends may think I'm crazy

Cause they can only see

I'm not perfect, but I swear, I'm perfect for you.

And there's no guarantee

That this will be easy.

It's not a miracle you need, believe me.

Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me

But I will love you endlessly.

Iwa knows that he can't be there for you all the time. Physically he tries his best, mentally he can help when he can. But you both know that you're perfect for one another. He just can't help but listen to the people around him sometimes. You deserve the world, but he doesn't know if he can give that to you.

Fukurodani

Kōtarō Bokuto

Prima Donna- Andrew Lloyd Webber

Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?

Think of how they all adore you

We’ve all seen how Bokuto gets what he’s praised for literally anything remotely impressive. So that makes him a cannon prima donna! but that also means the lows and really bad mood swings. This song just fits him so well it’s scary.

Shiratorizawa

Wakatoshi Ushijim

More- Usher

If you really want more, scream it out louder,

If you on the floor, bring out the fire,

And light it up, take it up higher,

Gotta push it to the limit, give it more.

This seems kinda obvious, but Ushijima never gives up. Ever since he was a kid, he set a goal for himself and he went beyond what he even set out for. And that comes with a lot of work and training for every new level of volleyball. He’s just going to get better and better until he retires, or is forced to retire.

Eita Semi

strawberries and cigarettes- troye sivan

Long nights, daydreams

Sugar and smoke rings, I've been a fool

But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

Headlights, on me

Racing to 60, I've been a fool

But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like

Blue eyes, black jeans

Lighters and candy, I've been a fool

But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

I feel like semi always thinks about how Shirabu replaced him on the starting line-up. But he’s mostly gotten over it, but certain things bring him back into that stage of his life. Then the cycle starts all over again. He constantly looks back on the game against Karasuno and thinks about wat would have happened if he was the setter instead.

Reon Ōhira

Remember when- Chris Wallace

So can we push push push rewind,

Go go back in time,

When we were kids sneaking bottles of wine,

Take take take me back, I wanna go back,

Back to what we had! Do you remember when we started this mess,

My heart was beating out of my chest!,

Remember when we stole your dad's car,

Reon gives me the vibe that his days at Shiratorizawa were some of the best of his life. How can they not be? He made the greatest friends of his life there. And I also feel like he looks back on them a bit more than he wants to admit.

Satori Tendō

This Side of Paradise- Coyote theory

Are you lonely?

Passion is crashing as we speak

You seem so lonely

You're the ground my feet won't reach

So if you're lonely

Darling you're glowing

If you're lonely come be lonely with me.

I get the vibe that Tendou attaches himself to whatever makes him feel wanted/safe. (ex. volleyball) he knows it isn't healthy, but he can't help it. This does lead to him completely distancing himself from you over and over because he thinks you’ll leave him.

Hayato Yamagata- House of gold- Twenty one Pilots

I will make you

Queen of everything you see

I'll put you on the map

I'll cure you of disease (Ooh)

And since we know that dreams are dead

And life turns plans up on their head

I will plan to be a bum

So I just might become someone

Even though we don't see a lot of him, I get the feeling he treats people really well. Like he cherishes people a lot more than some of them deserve. As you can see this leads to some unfair relationships and toxic people. He just wants to hold on until a good person comes along.

Nohebi

Suguru Daishō

Mr Loverman - Ricky Montgomery

I'm Mr. Loverman

And I miss my lover, man

I'm Mr. Loverman

Oh, and I miss my lover

I feel like this was way too obvious, but it really is his song. It’s literally cannon, every lyric in this song is what happened with Mika. but in the end he got her back and made his promise to be a better loverman <3.

Kazuma Numai

Nonstop- Drake

Future took the business and ran it for me

I let Ollie take the owl, told him brand it for me

I get two million a pop and that's standard for me

Like I went blind dog, you gotta hand it to me

He looks and acts like a guy who listens to drake. He just seems like a guy who won't stop or give up even when things take a turn. He’ll just keep fighting until nothing’s left.

Kōji Hiroo

At the Wheel- Colorblind

I need something to wake me up

It's never strong enough

I'm just getting colder and starting over

Going numb is just the way I run from

All my problems when I can't solve them

Need to break away

Escape the way I'm feeling

Hate to be fake, but I'm just dealing

This one doesn't really have a true reason, i really just felt like this was his song. Sorry just the vibe.

;)

Inarizaki

Shinsuke Kita

Oh Ms Believer- twenty one pilots

Oh, Ms. Believer, my pretty sleeper

Your twisted mind is like snow on the road

Your shaking shoulders prove that it's colder

Inside your head than the winter of dead

I will tell you I love you

But the muffs on your ears will cater your fears

My nose and feet are running as we start

To travel through snow

Together we go

I feel like kita is unintentionally cold towards the world, like he wants to open up but can't figure out how. But in turn if you can get him to feel “warmer” (get closer to him) he’ll share everything with you, almost oversharing. Just because he can't help it, he’s kept it all in for so long. Sometimes he just needs someone to hold him and make HIM feel better, because he does it for everyone. If you can manage all of this i feel like he’ll keep you with him forever.

Ren Ōmimi

Armor- Landon Austin

I'm not bullet proof when it comes to you

Don't know what to say when you made me the enemy

After the war is won

There's always the next one

I'm not bullet proof when it comes to you

I feel like not a lot of people approach ren because of how intimidating he looks. This has made him weary when people are really enthused to first meet him, because he thinks it’s a joke. After getting over that hurdle i feel like he just isn't an open person so it’ll take a long time to even get to a point where he trusts you. Hence the other wars after the first.

Aran Ojiro-

Never really over- Katy perry

Two years, and just like that, my head still takes me back

Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over

Oh, we were such a mess, but wasn't it the best?

Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over

Just because it's over doesn't mean it's really over

And if I think it over, maybe you'll be coming over again

And I'll have to get over you all over again

After all of these years, I really don't think Aran has truly gotten over losing at nationals in third year. And now on the national team he sees Hinata and Kageyama all the time and it takes him back. It makes him re-feel all the emotions he felt after the game. It hurt him to know that he gave his everything and still lost. Like when he’s in bed he puts himself back into that self loathing phase of his life.

Michinari Akagi

Try Hard - 5sos

It's obvious she’s so out of reach

And I'm finding it hard 'cause

She makes me feel, makes me feel

Like I try, like I try, like I'm trying too hard

'Cause I'm not being me

And it’s getting me down that

She makes me think, makes me think

That I try, that I try, that I'm trying too hard again

Akagi gives off boy best friend vibes. But like to EVERYONE, so the person he liked just thought he was making fun of them and he didn't like them back. And i feel like that kinda traumatized him a bit, so when he got a new s/o he tried really really hard to make them special, but the same thing happened.

i may do some with the second and first years, idk this took so long :)

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Note

Can you write a jolex Easter fic when they celebrate Easter with their kids. I would love that.

bunny kisses and easter wishes

I speed typed this lil thing, because I got this request a few days ago, so I apologize if it isn’t very good. and that it’s kinda short. i only really checked over this once, so i’m sorry if there’s a lot of mistakes. i just really wanted to get it out today. happy easter to all those who celebrate!

Easter Sunday had become a big deal in the Karev household throughout the years. It’s love and intensity wasn’t nearly as close to the ever-so expensive Christmas, but it easily took over second place as the family’s favorite holiday. (For the kids at least. Jo and Alex would always love Halloween the most for many reasons.) They decorated their house’s outer appearance to the nines, complete with easter egg lights that stuck in the ground, small inflatables, signs, and the occasional plastic bunny or two. Hanging from the tree on their lawn were easter baskets that they had tied to a piece of string, full of fake grass and hand-dyed eggs in extravagant colors. Inside, they had set out the Easter themed tablecloth, and traditional candy from the holiday could be found inside of ceramic bowls in the shape of bunny’s.

It came as no surprise when at exactly seven thirty in the morning, three children came bumbling into their room, feet heavy against the hardwood floors as they raced each other down the halls, eager to awake their parent’s first. They were told that they couldn’t wake up Alex and Jo earlier than that, or they would postpone the hunt. The oldest, Blaire, reached the two sleeping figues before her little brothers, running up to the bed and shaking them both awake.

“Mommy, Daddy, get up get up!” she cheered, a wide grin across her face. At ten years old, she knew that the easter bunny wasn’t real, but it was still more than fun to hunt for eggs across the house. Plus, she knew how much her parent’s appreciated the fact that she still put on a show for her younger siblings, who were a few years younger than her, and still full of belief for traditional holiday characters.

Not even a second later, two more bodies came flying onto the bed, taking the liberty of jumping up and down to wake up their parents rather than shaking them. Their youngest, Chase, jumps onto his dad’s back in all of his two year old glory, as if Alex wasn’t already aware of the presence of the three in the room. Months upon months of being on high alert while raising them as newborns turned both him and Jo into incredibly light sleepers, much to their dismay. They had been awake the second their footsteps had come down the halls, it was just nice to close their eyes for a bit longer.

Jo slowly wakes up next to him, giving him a sleepy, half smile that he never failed to make his heart stutter. She takes six year old Holden into her arms, giving him a hug as well as she could while he tried to squirm away. Being in first grade meant that he was too cool to give hugs to his mom, but Jo refused to acknowledge that, and still hugged and kissed him like he was still the tiny baby that would snuggle in her lap at every given opportunity. Sometimes, when he refused to give her a hug before he went into class, she would shout an ‘I love you baby’ just to get back at him. It was petty, but it worked, because after enough times he had learned to give his mom a hug before class.

“No mommy! The easter bunny came!” the boy protests, eventually escaping her grasp when he lands back on the floor, brushing a strand of too-long hair out of his eyes. Jo had been trying to set up a haircut for the past week, but they both were struggling to find enough time out to do so. It wasn’t like Holden was complaining, actually preferring the floppy hair more than he shorter haircut, but Jo said that he wasn’t going to look like his Uncle Link used to as a grown man. (Which Holden hated, since Uncle Link was seriously the coolest and he would definitely have floppy hair if the blonde used to as well.)

“I know. Give me and Daddy a minute, and we’ll be right down. In the meantime, go see if the easter bunny ate all of his carrots, ‘kay?” Jo mumbles, rubbing her palms against her eyes in an attempt to rid herself of sleep faster. Footsteps then padded out of the room and down the stairs, excited chatters echoing through the halls of the house.

Jo and Alex give each other a small, exhausted smile. They had been up until two thirty that morning, hiding eggs after both working fifteen hour shifts, and to say they were tired was an understatement. Bags hung heavy under both of their eyes, but they both knew it would be worth it when they would see the kids hunt for the plastic eggs. They lean in and connect their lips for a quick peck because they were both aware of their terrible morning breath. When they pull away they both crash back onto their pillows, taking a few seconds to let the tiredness leave their bodies before the start of an eventful day. Dragging themselves out of bed, they brush their teeth and try to make themselves at least somewhat put together so they didn’t seem like absolute zombies in front of their kids. Jo pulls her phone off her charger, tucking it into the pocket of her robe before they head down the stairs, the kids eagerly sitting at the island next to a plate of ‘bunny eaten carrots’ and a note.

“Mommy we can’t read it. The writing’s too messy.” Blaire complains, waving the paper around, surely wrinkling it a bit in the process.

Jo holds back a chuckle. Alex’s penmanship was barely legible on it’s own, let alone when he was practically so tired he could barely take a few steps without feeling like he could slump over whatever surface was available to him and take a nap.

“Hmm,” Jo hums, taking the paper and squinting to read it, struggling herself to figure out the words on the note. “Blaire, Holden, and Chase, Happy Easter! I have hidden forty-five eggs around the house for you to find this year, fifteen for each of you. Chase’s eggs have spots, Holden’s have stripes, and Blaire’s are plain. All eggs are hidden in the kitchen, living room, and dining room. Make sure not to take any eggs that aren’t yours. Happy hunting! Easter Bunny.” Jo reads off.

She folds the paper in half, placing it back down on the island. “Before you guys find the eggs, open up your baskets.” She points to the three different colored baskets that were on the table, each holding separate items based on their children’s current interests. They dig in quickly, each pulling out the candy first, marshmallow peeps, chocolate bunnies, and packets of Reese’s peanut butter cups eggs.

Blaire grabs her basket first, the purple wicker one with hints of green, her face lighting up when she sees the book she’d been eyeing for weeks now and a new shirt that she had been begging for since she saw it online last month.

Hudson lets out a boyish cheer when he pulls two video games out of his basket, pumping a fist and smirking. Jo gives Alex a relieved smile. New video games were coming out constantly, and it seemed like the second they got him the one that was on trend, it was being replaced by another game. So, for the two games about blowing random things up to still be considered ‘in’ was something they were both taking a large, silent victory about.

Chase giggles when he pulls out a few toys, running over to Jo to show them to her immediately. He was easily the quietest of the three kids, tending to hide in Jo’s shoulder whenever meeting someone new or clutching onto his older sibling’s legs whenever they were out in public places like the park. “Look Mommy! T-rex!” he exclaims, trying to open up the box that held the green dinosaur.

“I know baby! But you gotta go put it back now if you want to look for eggs,” Jo reminds him, placing a kiss on the top of his head, nuzzling her face in his hair. She savored these moments with her youngest, knowing that Chase was only getting older every day. Her and Alex both agreed that they were done at three, so with that she seemed to imprint every detail of Chase’s childhood to memory, taking more videos and pictures. It had gotten a little bit overboard at some times, but Alex knew where she was coming from so he never complained. They had both chastised themselves for not filming more things with their first two, sticking more to pictures, so they were making up for it with their youngest.

The two year old toddles to the table, climbing back up to the chair with the help of his sister, pulling out more toys and setting them down beside his candy. Once the baskets were free of anything except the paper grass at the bottom Alex tells them that they can begin their search.

“Blaire, help your brother.” Alex calls out from his spot on the couch, pulling Jo closer to him while she films the hunt, thankful that their house had an open floor plan so she could record moments like these.

The girl nods, grabbing Chase’s tiny hand and bringing him along on her search, picking him up to reach eggs that were out of his reach. All of his spotted eggs had been significantly easier to find than the other two’s, something Hudson had complained about at first until Alex shot him a look that immediately made him close his mouth.

“Aww c’mon I can hear the money in that one!” they hear Hudson complain, trying to reach for the egg in his sister’s hand.

“No, it’s mine. Your’s have money in them too, you know.” Blaire argues back, putting the blue plastic egg in her basket, shooing Chase off to the couch since they had found all of his eggs already.

“Daddy look. Eggs!” the young boy dumps his basket onto the couch, thankfully not cracking any open in the process.

“Woah, good job buddy,” Alex ruffles his hair, shooting him a proud grin and pulling him onto his lap so he was now rested between him and Jo. “We’ll open them once Bee and bubs find all of theirs okay?” he reassures, making the toddler nod his head.

“Aww c’mon, can’t we trade? Just once?” Hudson pouts from the kitchen, holding out one egg in exchange for the one his sister had just put away.

Blaire smirks, eyes flicking to her mom for a brief moment before focusing back on her brother’s. “Fine. But I get to pick which egg.” Did he not know that the heavier ones were all coins and the lighter ones had dollars? Well if he didn’t, that worked in her favor.

“No, you can’t trade.” Jo butts in, seeing what angle her daughter was trying to play. On one hand, props to Blaire, because Jo thought it would be another year before she made the very obvious connection, but on the other, she had assigned the kids certain eggs for this reason exactly.

“But mom—” the girl starts, jutting out her bottom lip in hopes to let her mom let it slide.

“—The Easter Bunny said that you can’t trade. I don’t know about you, but I want him to come back next year, and I don’t think he will if you guys don’t behave.” Jo tells them, raising her eyebrows to show that she was serious.

Little Chase looks up at her with wide eyes. “No! Bunny come back!”

Alex quickly reassures him, pulling Chase closer to him and giving him a squeeze. “Don’t worry bud, he’ll come back. Bee and bubs are just being big buttheads right now so Mommy needs to knock some sense into them.” he knows that the boy didn’t understand half of what he said, but he feels a grin split across his face when the toddler erupts into giggles.

“Buttheads!” he laughs, smiling so widely that Alex can’t even pretend to hold back chuckles of his own.

“Yep, buttheads. But don’t say that word, it’s not very nice. Only mommies and daddies can say butthead.” he clarifies. The last thing he needed was Jo knocking him upside the head because their son was the only baby in daycare to say bathroom words.

Minutes passed, the two older children looking for eggs around the house, climbing up on tables and chairs no matter how many times Alex and Jo told them that they weren’t hidden inside of the light fixtures.

When both kids had found their eggs, they bounced back to the couch, dumping their eggs on the cushions and immediately cracking them open, cheering every time they got a dollar versus coins. Chase didn’t have money in his eggs, but rather jelly beans, something he liked much more than change. (two year olds had no need for money, and jelly beans were something much more fun than coins)

In the end, the two of them had gotten one twenty, two tens, three five’s, and five one’s. Chase had a mountain of multi colored jelly beans gathering on the coffee table. A bit much? Yes. But they liked to splurge on holidays like these. They didn’t just become surgeons because they wanted to save people. (That was the main reason, but they both agreed that healthy paychecks did make a big decision in deciding their career path when they were younger. Now? Now it was all about saving lives, the money was just a nice bonus.)

“I can get a new game!” Holden cheers, tossing his dollar bills up into the air as if it was ‘raining money’. In his eyes, he was rich now. Sixty bucks and change? Next step was becoming a millionaire.

Jo scrunches her brows, looking at the boy confused. “You just got two new ones?” she clarifies. Were there seriously more games that he wanted to get?

“Yeah, but they just came out with a new Call of Duty,” the boy smirks, as if the answer was obvious.

Jo groans, showing her obvious dislike of the game. Normally, she was all for virtually blowing things up and killing fake people, but the game seemed just a bit too mature for a six-year old. She would just have Alex play with him in the beginning to make sure it wasn’t too bad she guessed.

She claps her hands together a large smile painting her lips. She gets up from her seat and grabs three bunny ears headbands from a table in the entryway. “Put these on, and I’m gonna take a picture of you guys. After this we can get ready to go over to Auntie Mer’s for waffle Sundays, okay? If you guys are good, Daddy might make them into easter shapes” she grins as she hands each of the kids a pair of ears, only Blaire looking displeased at having to wear them. She gives her daughter a look, which makes her huff and reluctantly put on the shiny purple ears.

Alex ushers Chase off of his lap and into line with his siblings, Jo placing the blue ears on his head, matching his basket. She smiles wide, putting the kids side by side.

She pulls out her phone, opening up the camera app and putting it on portrait mode. “Okay, on the count of three, say ‘Little Bunnies’!” she’s met immediately with groans, Hudson telling her ‘no’ the second he hears it. She’d been trying to get them to say it for years, but each time she got the same response. Insanity, Alex told her year after year with a crooked smirk, Is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. He always followed with, You’re basically insane for thinking that they’re gonna wanna be called bunnies if they didn’t last year. Plus, they always see it coming. It’s been happening for years now.

“It was worth a shot,” Alex pipes in, pulling Jo into him, resting his head against hers, not even bothering to hide his smile at the scene in front of him.

“Okay, fine. On the count of three ‘Happy Easter’. Sound good?” she confirms, earning nods from all four of the Karev’s.

“One, two three!”

“Happy Easter!”

24 notes · View notes

officialsporkintheroad · 4 years

Note

Oooh Gin n Tonic for the soulmate ficlet!

(Author’s Note: OKAY so this one got away from me--it’s almost 3k words. It’s a little darker/sadder than I thought it would be--I started off with Power Couple vibes, and then it became canon compliant, so obvi that didn’t quite happen. Ginny’s still a bad bitch tho. Thanks for the prompt and I hope you like <3)

SEND ME A HARRY POTTER RARE-PAIR FOR SOULMATE AU FICLET

TW: brief & mild self-harm, depression, off-screen attempted murder, minor character death

**********

Here’s the thing.

By the time Ginevra Weasley is born, there are six other Weasley children already. It’s hard enough to distinguish yourself when you’re poor, when your family name is synonymous with Blood Traitors in some circles and Pity in others, when everything you own is second-hand and handed-down and usedbrokendirty. It’s even harder knowing half her siblings will make a name for themselves before she’s even out of nappies.

Bill is the most talented. Charlie, the most fearless. Percy is the smartest. The twins are funny and inventive to a degree that’s nearly unbeatable. Even Ron is the best at chess, the best at strategy.

What’s left for me, she wonders.

But when she’s old enough to understand soulmarks, old enough to read them, she realizes that magic herself has marked her as different. Nobody in her family two sets of words the way she does.

**********

Here’s the thing.

Tom Riddle is born to nothing but the name falling from his dying mother’s lips, but even in a sea of orphans, he is extraordinary. First, because he is a pretty child. Then because is so very bright. And later—though not much later, because as noted, he is extraordinary—because of his magic.

And because, unlike the other children at Wool’s, there is a string of words winding around his wrist in narrow script that read, “I wish someone would see me instead of my family.”

Soulmarks. That’s what Professor Dumbledore calls them when he visits, when he explains magic and Hogwarts and the words his soulmate will one day say to him.

“Someone made just for me,” Tom mutters under his breath, enchanted by the idea. Someone who will understand him wholly and completely, who will be his entirely—

“Well,” Dumbledore says, and he has a strange, cold look in his steely eyes. “Not all soulmates work out.”

Tom gets the impression Dumbledore might not like him very much, and that’s before the man sets his wardrobe on fire.

Still, before Dumbledore leaves, Tom asks one more question.

“Sir. Do people only have one soulmate?”

Dumbledore pauses, assesses Tom. “Almost always.”

Tom nods quietly and lets the old man leave.

(There’s a second set of words in a more elegant script above Tom’s left hip that read, “It’s always you, isn’t it?” Another sign that he’s more than the wizards around him—two soulmarks instead of the usual one—but Tom doesn’t tell anyone about them. Not yet.)

**********

When Ginny meets Harry Potter—for only a split second just outside platform 9 ¾ —she hopes it will be him. Probably lots of people hope Harry Potter will speak their words; he’s a hero and he has the prettiest green eyes and the nicest smile. He doesn’t speak to her then, and she’s too shy to say anything, and that means there’s still a chance.

Still a chance when Harry Potter comes to visit the next summer.

But of course, then he waves and says a cheery, “Hello!”

Ginny freezes, turns and all but runs back up the stairs. Neither of her marks is a simple, “Hello.”

For the next few days, weeks, she wallows a bit in her disappointment. Harry Potter is not her soulmate.

The excitement of Hogwarts dulls the hurt of her doomed crush, though, right up until she puts on the sorting hat and it says, “Another Weasley.”

And in the Gryffindor girls’ dorms late that night, having unpacked and found a strange, blank diary that she doesn’t remember buying, Ginny writes down the thought that’s been plaguing her practically from the moment she was born.

“I wish someone would see me instead of my family.”

She doesn’t expect the book to write back.

“I see you.”

She stares at the words, the pretty, delicate script, for only a moment, and then she’s running to the bathroom, wrenching her nightgown down off her shoulder because even though she’s looked every day since she learned to read, she has to be sure.

“Those are my words,” she whispers to herself, vaguely aware she’s nearly hyperventilating. She all but runs back to the book—her soulmate is a book?—and writes more.

“I’m Ginevra Weasley, though I go by Ginny. Who are you?”

**********

When Tom Riddle is 16 and overconfident and proud and desperate to prove himself, he opens the Chamber of Secrets and inadvertently kills Myrtle Warren.

Waste not, want not, he thinks. The girl’s death might have been a bit of an accident—he’d planned to kill someone, if not her specifically, and perhaps not right now—but that won’t matter for the ritual he has planned.

When he makes his first horcrux, he feels as though he’s being split apart. The agony is blinding, burning. But eventually it fades and he hauls himself up, dusts himself off, and sneaks back into the Slytherin dormitories.

It’s only the next morning that he realizes the soulmark on his wrist is gone. Not burned off. Not faded to gray the way they do when your soulmate has died. It’s as if it never existed.

(The one on his hip remains unchanged.)

Ultimately, he decides, it’s of little consequence. Soulmates are a childish fancy that had appealed to him when he was an orphan nobody. Now, Lord Voldemort is on the horizon—a grander image for himself that will elevate him beyond the paltry frivolities of mortal men.

He doesn’t linger on this loss, or what it might mean for his soul.

**********

Ginny wakes up on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, soaked to the bone in filthy water, Harry Potter bleeding profusely beside her. The diary—Tom—is on the floor, a huge hole gaping on the front cover.

He tried to kill me, Ginny realizes, a sick feeling in her stomach. Tom had possessed her for months, had made her kill chickens and set the basilisk on muggleborns, had dragged her down to the Chamber so he could suck the life out of her. And now he’s dead.

At first, there’s nothing but the relief of surviving, tinged with bitterness and a vile, betrayed feeling in her gut. The idea of telling anyone that her soulmate was Tom—was Voldemort, as it turns out—makes her throw up. And then, of course, it occurs to her that no one has to know.

It would be better if no one knew.

She keeps that tidbit to herself, even with the anger and the grief. Everyone attributes her moods to the fact that she nearly died, but eventually they stop worrying so much. Eventually they leave her alone.

The mark on her shoulder—“I see you.”—once black, now has faded to a pale gray. So light it’s nearly invisible to anyone else.

The other mark is fine.

**********

Ginny throws herself into her life with the energy of a person who knows what it means to die. Where she was quiet and shy before—always overwhelmed and overshadowed by her siblings—she’s now loud and bright and fearless. If Tom has taught her anything, it’s that nobody else is going to come along and make her great. That’s something she’s going to have to do for herself.

So she tries. She makes friends with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. She studies hard, makes sure she answers questions in class. She goes to the tri-wizard ball her third year with a nice boy named Michael Corner who is not her soulmate. She dances and she has fun and he doesn’t try to kill her, so it’s a win.

She thinks she might finally be getting the hang of things.

Of course, that’s when Voldemort resurrects himself.

Harry lands in the stadium, sobbing and clinging to Cedric Diggory’s body, and suddenly the sick feeling from the Chamber is back.

**********

Cedric Diggory was Harry Potter’s soulmate.

Ginny learns this late at night at Grimmauld Place because dreams of the Chamber and Tom are keeping her awake and when she goes to make a cup of tea, she finds Harry at the table, staring blankly in the dark.

The clock reads 2 a.m.

“I barely got to know him, and he’s gone,” Harry says, voice ragged from crying. “And it’s my fault—”

“It’s Tom’s fault,” Ginny snaps. Not her Tom, really, but they’re the same enough. Both murderers and jackasses as far as she’s concerned.

Harry looks up at her, wide green eyes, and she realizes that no one else has told him he’s not to blame. Not for Voldemort coming back, or for Cedric dying. She wonders if anyone else even knows that they were soulmates.

Maybe that’s what prompts her to tell him.

“Tom was mine.” The words taste like ash, scrape up her throat and leave her feeling raw. “The diary. He was my soulmate.”

She shows him the grayed-out words on her shoulder.

“Fuck,” Harry chokes out eventually. “That’s…”

There really aren’t words for this.

“It’s all fucked,” she agrees.

Her tea is scalding and soothing and not nearly enough. But she’s been here for months; she knows where Sirius has been hiding the good stuff from her mom. She reaches into the false bottom of the china cabinet, pulls out a bottle of Ogdens, and pours a shot into her tea.

Harry raises a brow, but she just shrugs.

“I think we’ve earned it, don’t you?”

He takes the shot she pours for him, and there’s a silent promise that they won’t talk about this. Not with anyone else.

**********

She shouldn’t have come here.

That’s what she thinks, standing in the Department of Mysteries, in the Hall of Prophecies. One moment, they’re looking for Sirius, and then Lucius fucking Malfoy is there, and Bellatrix Lestrange, and a handful of other Death Eaters, and Ginny knows they’ve stumbled into a trap they’re not getting out of unscathed.

Harry was holding the prophecy, but sometime between him taunting Malfoy and when they all send out a simultaneous stupefy, she feels him slide it into her pocket. It takes less than a second for her to understand. They’ll think Harry has it, and even when it inevitably comes out that he doesn’t, Ron and Hermione will be the next obvious choices. Ginny is unexpected; Ginny can keep it safe.

They scatter, each one of them running in a different direction. Ginny’s dodging spells left and right, tossing hexes over her shoulder. She’s always had a fair amount of power, but the DA has honed her skills in a way they never were before. She lands more hits than she expects, hears the belligerent cursing of the man behind her when a well-placed diffindo makes him stumble. She can’t look back and see the damage herself—that would be stupid and she can’t afford to give up her meager lead—but she tosses a reducto and listens as the walls collapse.

She has three seconds to be proud of herself before it all goes to shit.

Somehow they all end up back in the same room—a strange one with a pale, shimmering archway standing in the middle—and then they’re surrounded: Death Eaters on all sides.

Voldemort himself strides forward from the darkness. He’s tall and pale and snake-like, but those movements, that grace, are all Tom.

The room is too cool and dark and for a moment, she’s back in the Chamber, she’s fading, she’s dying, she’s staring up at Tom’s face, twisted into a mocking, cruel smile that she’ll never forget as long as she lives.

“Harry Potter,” Voldemort says, breaking her out of her memory. “And I see you’ve brought your useless friends.”

There’s a split second of nothing, and then Harry’s clutching at his scar, screaming. Ginny is distantly aware of Ron helping to catch him, but she won’t be distracted now. She keeps her wand level, steady, and aimed at Voldemort.

That’s why she sees when his gaze shifts to her: red and piercing and horrid.

“Don’t be stupid, girl. Give it here,” he says, words half-hissed, and he holds out his hand for the prophecy.

She stares at him. Stares, and then laughs. It’s something manic and bitter and this is not the time, but she can’t help it. Fuck.

Because those are her other words, the ones etched across her ribcage.

(When she was younger—before the Chamber incident—she’d never liked these words as well as the other set. Her soulmate was calling her stupid, for one thing, and seemed demanding to boot. After Tom and the basilisk and nearly dying, she’d looked at these words with the last shred of hope she had left. She’d hoped, first impressions aside, that maybe this person would be the one to love her. Maybe this person she’d be allowed to keep.)

What a fucking joke.

“It’s always you, isn’t it?” she spits and has the joy of watching Lord Voldemort freeze on the spot.

She has managed to strike him speechless. It’s almost enough of an advantage.

But in the end—Ginny is starting to think some things are inevitable—Voldemort and his Death Eaters rally, the Order of the Phoenix shows up to save the day, the prophecy shatters, Sirius dies.

**********

Back in the safety of Hogwarts, of the Hospital Wing, Ginny puts her fist through a mirror.

Then she takes one of the shards to the words on her ribcage, tries to scrape them off.

Madam Pomfrey has to stop her, has to restrain her to the bed while she heals the bleeding wound.

The mark stays. It’s magic, her soulmark; it goes deeper than the skin.

***********

Voldemort sits in his study in Malfoy Manor.

The prophecy is destroyed. Harry Potter has escaped. The Minister, idiot that he is, won’t be able to deny Voldemort’s presence now that he’s seen him firsthand.

It has been a shite evening, in short.

Then there is the matter of his soulmate. Ginevra Weasley.

“It’s always you, isn’t it?”

Even his new body, freshly formed out of the cauldron, had borne those words. The ones that, no matter how many horcruxes he’d made, had stayed firmly printed above his hip. Years ago, he’d thought they would disappear when he made the ring, then the cup, the locket. He’d wondered why he lost those first words but not the second set.

Now, of course, it all makes sense.

Well. He’s still not quite sure why magic has deemed some scrawny, red-haired chit deserving of Lord Voldemort.

Draco Malfoy is a well of information. Largely useless information, granted, but information all the same.

She’s a quidditch player, apparently, and—according to Draco—nearly as good a seeker as Potter. She’s got a mean bat-bogey hex and a short temper, but on the whole, she’s a year below Malfoy, so he doesn’t know much.

“Oh, but—” and here the boy pauses, pales, and swallows nervously “—she was…uh…the one who nearly died. In…in the Chamber of Secrets.”

Draco looks like he’s worried Voldemort will curse him for that, but really he’d gotten all—okay, most—of his frustration over that spectacular disaster over with when he’d first heard Lucius had given away his fucking diary.

But he didn’t know Ginevra was the one his horcrux had almost killed.

My horcrux that took my first soulmark, he thinks, and something in the back of his brain clicks.

“It’s always you, isn’t it?” she had said. Always. Because they’d met before.

She was both his marks.

**********

“I had—have—a second mark,” she tells Harry, because he obviously knows something is up. They’re sitting together up at the astronomy tower. It’s one of those nights where the dreams creep in and she wishes she had the memory of Gryffindor’s sword in her hands. She wishes she’d been the one to kill Tom all those years ago. Wishes she could kill Voldemort now.

But that, apparently, is Harry’s job.

Despite the fact that she’s pretty sure he’s already guessed the truth, and despite the fact that she knows he won’t judge her for it—he didn’t judge her for Tom, he won’t judge her now—she can’t stand to say it aloud.

She shows him the words on her side instead.

Don’t be stupid, girl. Give it here.

“I…I tried to get rid of them,” she whispers into the night when the silence stretches too long. “Why is it him?”

Harry wraps her in a hug that’s just shy of smothering.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I’m so fucking sorry.”

**********

Dumbledore is dead. It’s only a matter of time before the ministry falls. Lord Voldemort is more powerful now than he’s ever been.

He can’t stop looking at his soulmark.

It is ridiculous, he tries to tell himself. Lord Voldemort has no use for a soulmate, no want for one either. And certainly not one that’s a mudblood-loving bint fighting for the enemy.

He should kill her and be done with it. It’s not as though he can just leave her be.

But.

But for all that Voldemort has remade himself into something near-godly, there is still an orphan boy somewhere inside of him that used to steal the things he coveted, that used to collect what little treasures could be found in Wool’s and keep them close.

Once, he saw his soulmarks and thought, There is someone made to be mine.

And that?

That’s a temptation he cannot quite pass up.

#gin n tonic #Ginny Weasley #tom riddle #soulmate au #ficlet

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kiri-ah · 3 years

Text

Something To Sink My Teeth Into || he/him pronouns version

Pairing: Vampire!Jaemin x Male Human!reader

Word Count: 26.4k

A/N: Okay so uh... this wasn't meant to be this long. I hate my brain sometimes. *sigh*

This has only been edited by myself and a friend of mine, please excuse any errors. I worked hard to make the best experience possible. For that reason, please note that this is the !he/him pronouns version! They/them pronouns may be found here, she/her pronouns here. Please enjoy!

He smiled then, a smirk that seemed far too self-assured for the situation, and leaned over towards your exposed ear. “I can feel you staring, baby,” he murmured. The top of your ear, which had been feeling rather numb, flamed hot at his words. It almost hurt, the sudden jump into heat. You turned towards him fully, only eyes exposed by the scarf mountain. Your hair whipped around as the wind shifted again, but he didn’t seem cold, although he was in only a pair of black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black jacket. The jacket caught your attention for a second - it was studded with thousands of little rhinestones, like a varsity jacket gone shiny. Then he shifted closer into your space and you were forced to look back at his eyes, glittering in a way that seemed almost predatory. You sucked in a breath through your mouth and started to back away.