#its so weird though because it feels like something's shifted and now as cringe as it is i have a weird fondness for it

[bonetrousledbones]

every once in a while i go back and reread my old abandoned fic that’s been making me cringe for years and years and this last time i did it i was half cringing but then a new thing of like. remembering how much fun i had writing it. how even though the tone is so off in so many places a lot of the humor is still kinda funny. almost wanting to draw some things from it. anyway the point of this post is to say i am so so annoyed that a fanfic i both started and abandoned in middle school is what has given me the drive to start working on atbb again

[www-jungwon]

in which roommate!heeseung insists on decorating, and you're sure he's up to something (why has he got so much mistletoe?) ୨୧

tw. yellinggg, kissing, idk what rlly went through my head when writing this its kinda cringe bro wc. 887

“ok, i give up.” heeseung looks over in confusion, holding a box of christmas decorations in his hand.

“just tell me! i give up.”

“what are you talking about?” he squints, shifting the box in his arm.

you shift on the couch agitatedly, pausing your tv show. “why are you hanging all these up? like, do you want my room, or you feel bad because you broke something that’s mine, or you’re trying to hint you want-”

“it’s for christmas spirit!”

you roll your eyes. you’ve been trying to figure out your roommate’s obsession with decorating the apartment for the last week, but every time he’s answered with the same response. ‘christmas spirit.’ christmas spirit your ass. you’ll figure it out, you just need a couple more days.

“sure.”

he raises his eyebrows innocently. “i don’t know why you don’t believe me.”

“maybe because in the 3 years we’ve lived together you haven’t ever even lifted a finger to help me put decorations up?”

he shrugs. “change of heart.”

definitely up to something.

–

heeseung is being weird. he keeps trying to hide his decorations when you walk in on him, like he’s scared of you seeing them. even though you’ll see them anyway, because it’s your apartment.

after seeing him drop his box for the third time in two days, it clicks. a party. that explains his controlling of the decorations to look his way, and the secret phone calls he’s been making. you absolutely hate crowds, and your one rule the only time you’ve lived here has been no parties. he’s never complained before, but you suppose he’s finally gotten tired.

you’ve never felt more betrayed. heeseung, the most considerate roommate you’ve ever had, heeseung who keeps track of the amount of chocolate in your storage, heeseung who buys you things just because they reminded him of you, heeseung who is in charge of all the groceries, no discussion. heeseung, who you think you might be in love with, that heeseung, trying to throw a holiday party in your apartment without your permission when you leave tomorrow.

and as you see him emerge from the doorway, his head brushing the mistletoe he hung, fiery anger builds up inside you. how dare he hum, act all normal like you didn’t just watch him try to hide his decorations, how dare he do this secretly, how dare he make you love him while he’s betraying you like this?

so when he asks what you want him to make for dinner, you want to hit him in the face.

“you what?” he asks, and the way his nose scrunches in confusion only makes you angrier, and you snap.

“lee heeseung, i hate you!”

his doe eyes widen in surprise.

“what? i-”

“you’re so stupid! i can’t believe you would do all this just for a stupid holiday party! over me!”

you’ve stepped up to him, him backing up slightly as you walk forward.

“i don't know what-”

“and i wouldn’t have cared if you just asked! i’m not even gonna be here! but i thought that you at least cared about me enough to ask instead of sneaking around.”

“y/n, i-”

“and you find it so amusing when i ask you why, and this whole time it’s been for a party? you’ve been lying to me, sneaking around, just so you can throw a party without my permission? do i mean that little to you,” your words are choked by a sob, “that little, that-”

“y/n, i promise i-”

“that little, that a party is more important to you than me.” tears cross down your cheeks, tracing over the edges of your face.

heeseung’s brows are furrowed now, a concerned frown pushed onto his face. “y/n, i swear-”

how dare he act concerned, when it’s his fault. 

a yell rips out of you, “you don’t get to care about me now! not after, not after this, not after i’ve spent three years loving you and you’ve just thrown all my trust away for a party.”

he’s broken now, you can see it on his face in the way his brows are drawn in and you know you’ve hurt him, and you feel awful. he watches you carefully, taking a deep breath before he moves almost imperceptibly closer.

“y/n.”

you sniff weakly, “yeah?”

his voice is soft with hurt. “i love you, too. and i’d never throw a party without your permission, and it wasn’t that, and i’m sorry i was being so secretive but i promise it wasn’t because of that and i think- i think you should look up.”

you hadn’t realized how close you were to him now, your hands brushing his. you turn your head up slowly, your lips almost pressing against his, and you see it.

the mistletoe.

“i love you, y/n. and i thought- i wanted to tell you, before you left and i didn’t know how, but since you were always decorating instead of me doing anything i wanted to do something nice for you, and then i realized maybe if i could put mistletoe up then you would get the hint and i wouldn’t have to say anything.”

his arms slide around your waist tentatively, pulling you into him, and you look down, falling into him as your lips push into his.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

part of winters of us, an advent calendar : day 009 prev

extremely late sry

comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist !

general @bucketofhiros @addictedtohobi @ariadores enhypen @cutesiepatootsie @sammm5225 @eupherbia

[syntaxfraud]

Vent

TW: mentions of bl0od, some cusswords, dysphoria

I was questioning my identity as a non-human, and I mightve figured that I most closely identified to being a vampirekin (potentially a fictokin? Idk if I spelled that right) or an alienkin. Also keep in mind that Im fifteen, so my vent could have a few grammatical mistakes.

I could be a therian as well but I realized that I could be 'choosing' to identify as one to find some community to relate to (since Im autistic and cant really socialize with people, especially with my peers in HS). I dont necessarily feel a connection with most animals, let alone nature, and I felt emotionally numb when I did quadrobics.

So there's probably a low chance of me actually having a connection to animals, therefore it wouldnt be best for me to identify as a therian. But at the same time, Ive shown the most important criteria of being a therian, such as dreaming, shifting, etc,. Specifically, Ive shifted into a bat (flying fox) in dreams and phantom shifts. This could have some correlation to being a vampirekin in a sort pf eay though, because in the dream I remember I was a vampire.

On the otherhand, Ive always had some connection with supernatural beings and aliens. I think I was around seven when I watched a vampire movie (hotel trannsylvania) and I quickly felt this weird connection with the vampires. I legit wanted to be a vampire, hell I even dreamt of becoming one multiple times (I still do, Ive tried lucid dreaming because of that). The problem was that I didnt have the urge to drink blood, I mean I've tried when I was 12-14 (Im 15 now) and in my edgy phase (so its either I did that because its cool or because it has something to do with my kintype). Idk, my guess is that I could have some non-human dysphoria (since I always wanted sharper canines), maybe a bit of a psychological connection to vampire kintype, and definitely an emotionally connection to vampire kins.

But theres another problem, because I noticed that the vampires that I had an emotional connection to most were only from the castlevania show. I am aware that multiple shows/movies/etc,. can potray vampires in various perspectives but if I only related to vampires from one specifc kind of show, then shouldnt that logically indicate that Im a fictokin? I've kinned multiple characters because I was able to relate to their personalities, backstories, development, etc,. (even though those specifc characters werent created to be relatable)

So my concerns are that;

I dont know if its possible to have multiple other-kin types. I mean it sorta makes sense, since there can be gray areas in a black and white concepts but still lmao-

Also, if my idenity as a therian and otherkin are both valid, Im afraid if I might be considered cringe or delusional. Like I've seen people react to cringe comps with people saying that they're (example): "lesbian, transgender, cat/wolf therian, fictokin" (Im just putting random identities as an example, no bigotry intended) and they did not take that lightly, because apparently those peopke are putting 'too many labels on themselves'. Because of that, Im afraid if I might be one of those people, since I also personally identify as a lot of stuff (trans male, pansexual, potentially otherkin/therian).

I'm not sure if I'm choosing to be a therian/otherkin, since I could be trying to fit myself into a specific community due to social isolation (which Ive struggled with my entire life). Im also scared if my identity could be a phase too tbh.

Honestly any advice is appreciated, I would also definitely like to know how yall figured out that you were non-humans <3

[klance-daydreams]

can't go a day without it ☕

(a space ranger vlogs mini fic)

==========================

Keith is not a morning person. He'll wake up on time, sure, but actually wanting to wake up?

Out of the question.

Most days, when his phone's alarm sings its default tune, Keith turns it off, and starts the coffee machine for him and Lance. But he's tired this morning. They drove all night for Pete's sake! All the way from Salt Lake City in Utah to Reno, Nevada. And it's cold. Keith hates the cold.

 The van is usually good with keeping a bearable temperature from the inside, but like all road vehicles, it's never perfect. Hence, Keith doesn't want to get up. He pulls the comforter towards himself and shifts closer to Lance, who is still peacefully snoozing away, unaware of anything happening right now.

Late morning light filters through the cracks between the shades and the van's windows. Nobody can see the inside of the van, and nobody can look out either. Obviously, Keith knows where the camper is parked. He knows what to expect when he opens the shades; a 24-hour parking lot at a local store. But for now, he can't see the outside, and it's like him and Lance are in their own little world. Which is kind of cheesy, but whatever.

 And normally, they're both already awake, eating toast or granola bars and overall getting ready for the day ahead. Lance would grab the camera, Keith would carry the backpack, and they'd be off filming another vlog. But today is a rare day off. And Keith wants to take advantage of that. 

He wraps his arm around Lance carefully, taking in the warmth of the other boy as he does. He inches closer. Lance's hair is matted from sleeping, and his clothes wrinkle in the weirdest places. His body goes up and down and up and down with each breath. Sleeping over with your best friend is one thing, and this is another. And sure, you could call this spooning, but that word makes Keith cringe. They're not spooning. Couples spoon, and Keith and Lance are not a couple. Somehow.

Keith closes his eyes for a few minutes, maybe for longer. It feels like seconds. He's fallen into that state where reality feels like a fever dream. Like he's floating and sinking at the same time. He's aware, but in a split second, his consciousness could disappear.

Just then, the mattress shifts. "G'morning,"

Lance turns over to face Keith with a sleepy grin. They're probably four inches apart at this point. They've slept and woke up side by side like this for months now, and Keith will still never get over Lance's morning voice. Luckily, Keith has a good poker face. 

"'Morning, Sleeping Beauty." 

Lance gasps with offense as he turns back around dramatically. "Whatever. I'm going back to sleep. And yes, I am a beauty, Keith. Try not to be so jealous."

"Oh no. I'm so sorry," Keith scoffs back. He wants Lance to turn around again. Please let him turn back around. When he doesn't, Keith decides to take matters into his own hands. 

"Lance, hey, LANCE." He doesn't know how else to get his attention, so Keith aggressively pats the other boy. How else can you get your friend to move because you want to see their stupid pretty face without making it weird? The tactic works, though, and Lance is successfully facing Keith again. 

In the middle of a yawn, Lance replies, "Y'know Keith, sometimes people wake others up by gently rubbing their back. Keyword: gentle." Lance sits up to stretch. 

"Haha." Why is he sitting up? Why can't we lay down some more together? Keith can't translate those words to something platonic, so he instead sits up as well, and climbs out of the bed. Chills shoot up his spine as his feet touch the cold, hard floor. He regrets everything.

"I'm going to start the coffee."

Lance nods and checks his phone. Keith grabs the mugs and starts the morning brew. In a few seconds, the brown liquid trickles down into the first cup, and its aroma wafts all throughout the van.

Keith stares back at Lance, who's scrolling through Instagram. He likes a post with two cats cuddling each other. The boy scratches his face, and scrolls down to the next post. 

Mornings like this are rare. They're rare, and they're the best ones, because the morning can drag along slowly. Giving enough time to wake up whenever Keith and Lance want. Enough for them to sip their coffee together in bed and chat. Keith smiles. He'll never be a morning person, but can surely get used to this.

==========================

[pbpsbff]

3, 20, 22~

hiiiii thank u for the ask

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

ok so this is less a scene and more an entire fic concept but i literally cannot figure out a context to put it into and it hurts because i really like it

there’s a family living there now, from what he’s heard. a mom and a dad, and two daughters. maybe he should tell them about the money. but what would he even say? hey, there’s a twenty dollar bill somewhere in your walls. also, a part of me died here and i’m afraid his ghost might be wandering the halls. is he overstaying his welcome? i’m sorry if he is, by the way. i’d recommend you a nice priest for an exorcism, but he’ll probably just leave if you tell him to go.

peter thinks maybe he’ll slip a note under the door instead, but there’s too many words to fit on a page to describe the way his bones ache when he passes by the building, how he still wakes up in the morning expecting to smell burnt toast and hear may singing along to some garbage song from the 80’s she claims is the best thing she’s ever heard, or all the different creaks and moans of the apartment, all its quirks and flaws that he once knew like the back of his hand.

he could explain it all away; that faucet leaks because i was an overachieving nine year old who thought he could take it apart and put it back together without a problem, or that weird brown-ish stain on the ceiling is from when may accidentally flung spaghetti across the room, or why are you trying to rid this apartment of all the evidence of it being a home?

maybe i make it into something post nwh?? idk. this isn’t even all of it

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

i wish i could say that all my writing is really deep and there's clues everywhere but most foreshadowing in my fics is something i did on accident and then went holy shit i can use this. i'm a genius.

i will say though, the way tony rhodey and peter's dynamic changes throughout everything i have posted for r&r (and everything in my drafts oop) is probably my favorite thing ever like idk i'm a huge fan of the walking dead and the way relationships shift with each new experience and that is exactly what i wanted to do when i started the series

i was gonna look through a couple of my fics to see if i could find specific references but ao3 is fucking. DOWN and i'm too lazy to pull up my google docs. god bless

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

i reread them all the TIME omfg. a lot of the times i'm cringing at spelling or grammatical errors (and then i fix them) but idk there's something so fun about being able to go back to a fic and think wow i would've done that differently if i wrote it today. it's also fun to read through a fic i don't remember writing at ALL and being like holy shit............ banger.............. it's an ego boost i guess

[hide-away-wally]

You know, tumblr is still kind of good, actually. I suppose if you consider what became of twitter, the bar is quite low, but it's too bad that long form blogging started to be seen as "passé" at some point in the not too distant past.

I vaguely remember when the format was still quite relevant. I had one when I was in college. It was a WordPress site. It started as a free one, the sort that was hosted on the WP servers, but I eventually got all weird and entrepreneurial, what with trying to start up a literary magazine from scratch and so on, so I discovered how web hosting worked, and learned web design, and eventually had my own custom Wordpress installation hosted on a shared server.

I honestly kept that same host for two decades, which makes me feel sad and old. I've been running out of money, and possibly time, and I didn't renew the subscription this month. I just couldn't. My custom email address, the email address I'd been using for those same two decades, is dead now, but it occurred to me that I never got emails I was genuinely interested in anymore. It was just there for password retrieval, spam, and random notifications from various corporate entities. I don't mourn my websites and such, but it's obviously a problem to have the email down for too long. So I caved ... though I didn't renew the same host. I started paying them 8 bucks a month way back when, and I didn't even notice how it gradually became over 20. I shopped around, and found something that was 12 bucks for the YEAR. Now, that's only the first year, but I don't give a fuck, a deal's a deal. That's a huge saving. Anyway, the problem is that my domain names are hosted elsewhere, and I forgot the password ... and the email the domain registrar has on file to sent reset links and such is the DEAD email address. So fuck me, I guess. I've reached out to them and sent them my ID and all that garbage, so hopefully their "ownership" department can sort this little Catch-22 out eventually...Serves me right. But I digress. Nobody read the blog I used to publish back in college, of course. Same as this one. What in this case is largely by design, back then was a source of anxiety for me. Harper and I are both artists, or were. And I began to realize just how much our civilization despises artists fairly early on. It only tolerates us when we generate capital, specifically for the benefit of non-artists. So at the time, I was quite afraid of what obscurity and failure would do to me. Rightly so, of course. It did everything I was afraid of, and so much more. I remember coming down to the front desk to consult with an acquaintance who was working the night shift there, picking her brain about all the blog stuff, how to actually build an audience and so on. She gave me all sorts of advice, bless her, but I just couldn't properly understand or apply it. Something about tecnorati, and some other website that was kind of like reddit but not quite, and aggregators, and maybe actual reddit? I was asking her specifically because she had a semi "successful" blog at the time. I can't remember what it was about. Something to do with nature, maybe? Hiking? Fishing? I don't know.

Come to think of it, I can't remember what mine was about either ... Which is only striking me as a bit odd. It was probably garbage, to be fair. I am sure that's the reason. It couldn't have been much good if even its actual author can't recall. If I had to guess, it was basically just like this ... a lot of ramblings and digressions, except now there's at least a nominal "focus" ... kind of.

I probably haven't changed or grown all that much ... For much of your life, you look back on your younger self, and you often think "wow, I was one silly and goofy piece of jello back then, and I am so glad I grew out of that phase." At some point that seems to have changed for me. I begin to realize that the old me was never a terrible person by any stretch, even if I was a bit cringe and made mistakes and all that, but I felt like a terrible person, all the damn time, especially when I was depressed. And I still feel exactly the same way now, like a terrible person. Except I can tell the old me wasn't that. They were just naive and innocent and still had hope.

Depression is one hell of a killer, you know. Over the past few decades, people seem to have made it out to be the "acceptable" mental illness, or a "universal" one. Depression and anxiety are used as the butt of self deprecating jokes by people who don't actually understand what they are. PTSD is another one. People think that watching a scary movie or weird commercial qualifies as "childhood trauma." Oh, honey, that's sweet. That's precious. I've got OCD too ... people still think it means you're meticulous or like a clean room or some shit. The reality is so much worse. The constant intrusive thoughts. INTRUSIVE thoughts, not impulsive ones. It's not a compulsion to say or do something goofy for your friends to laugh at. It's vivid images of people you love being slowly tortured and cut open by indistinct perpetrators, so violent and horrid that you WINCE, at least once an hour, its detailed worst case scenarios, atomic bombs, home invasions, gruesome accidents, running through your head multiple times a day, so immersive that you have to shake and shake and shake till you can push it loose. I've got all the good "acceptable" ones. The so called "treatable" ones. The ones it's supposedly okay to talk about, except it really, really isn't. It really, really isn't. Harper had 'em too. Harper was the only friend I had who actually got it. The rest have gone away. I am left in the underworld all alone. Fuck em.

Depression is one hell of a killer. Real trauma is one hell of a killer. There is no healing. I know that now. No recovery. There are occasional remissions and relapses, and then there's death. Fuck, what was I talking about. Eh. Clearly, I am not well.

[popstarryeyed]

second impression of midnights (more favorable)

lavender haze - i think i would've liked this better as a track off reputation. like now taylor writing about her reputation is overdone but the idea of falling in love while the world hates you is actually compelling. i love "delicate". objectively it's not a bad concept for a song. it's also very jack antonoff-y production wise and i don't mind that but it is very noticable.

maroon - still can't get over "so scarlet it was maroon". not the same color! also one of the things i find fun about taylor swift is her continuity with imagery and theme, and in "daylight" she talks about how she used to think love was burning red (like the song and album red) but it's golden. i don't know how maroon fits into that established color imagery.

anti-hero - the first few lyrics are a bit too hashtag-relatable (saying the word depression directly instead of just describing the experience) but overall i really like the song. i feel like people might think the sexy baby/monster on the hill line is cringe but i actually really love it bc i can totally see tall 30-something taylor swift feeling odd and ungainly next to younger music industry girls. and as a fat woman in my late 20s, i definitely feel that way sometimes about college students on the train. the music video skit IS cringe though

snow on the beach - it's pretty, but saying it's featuring lana del rey is laughable. if i didn't know she was on there i wouldn't have noticed.

you're on your own, kid - kind of growing on me. i've certainly felt alone a lot of the time. i like that this album is giving some insight into taylor swift as a kid being kind of lonely and weird. when she first got famous, i saw her as a very normal popular girl but a) i don't know what she was like pre-fame and b) getting famous at a young age would make you weird.

midnight rain - i really want to love this bc the lyrics and concept are so good. taylor swift thinking back to someone who wanted a more stable life but she wanted to pursue her music career and how they just had such wildly different priorities. i love the imagery of sunshine and midnight rain to convey this distance, reminds me of that verse from "your best american girl" ("you're the sun / you've never seen the night / but you hear its song from the morning birds"). and i can totally imagine that she still thinks about it sometimes because pursuing her fame has also fucked her over. BUT that pitch-shifted voice. it's not the worst pitch-shifted voice i've heard but i don't like it and i think the song's lyrics would hit harder if delivered more directly.

question - this is good, asking a past fling for closure makes sense with the whole midnights thing. i like when taylor gets pointed

vigilante shit - it's so...revenge as aesthetic. like she does some interesting stuff on the song, revealing her ex's crimes, teaming up with his ex-wife, but the way it comes back to how she's dressed makes it so hollow. like it's not a story about her getting revenge, it's about the aesthetic of being a vengeful woman. like scary scary sexy lady from crazy ex-gf but not a joke. "mad woman" does the "aren't you tired of being nice? don't you want to just go apeshit?" theme better, and "no body no crime" has an actual revenge storyline. this does neither.

bejeweled - i like it. flex on that loser

labyrinth - not particularly memorable

karma - sounds lovely but i don't love the smugness

sweet nothing - i think this is about how the world expects so much of her but this partner expects nothing and it's so comfortable. but idk. something rubs me the wrong way about it. especially the bit about people asking her to do more but she's too soft for it. like obviously i get the appeal disconnecting from the world to be with your partner but that's not a solution to the world's problems

mastermind - i like this one. i get it, trying to orchestrate things because you don't get things if you don't.

the great war - i still like this one a lot. maybe my fave overall.

bigger than the whole sky - still good.

paris - again with the whole "i'm totally disconnected from the world with my boyfriend" thing. except paris is, in fact, a part of the world.

high infidelity - i like this one better on second listen. rolling eyes at a jealous lover like do i have to tell you every detail of my life? ugh!

glitch - i like it. the idea that falling in love is some flaw in the plan, some electronic glitch in your programming - i feel it.

would've could've should've - i totally understand why this relationship is still bothering her over a decade later. i still listen to dear john and feel homicidal.

dear reader - i don't like songs where the singer just gives you advice. it's always so trite.

overall i am far more positive on it than i was. still think there's some filler and weak songs, but hey, that's typical for a taylor swift album

[llamagoddessofficial]

Thank you @eldritch-and-tired for commissioning this lil’ /Reader piece of @megalommi‘s Sans, Baggs. I will ALWAYS be a simp for this sexyman. Enjoy!!

Tw: injections, unwilling hypnosis/mind control

...

You giggled.

The light was so pretty. Swirling, undulating, cyan and magenta warping and shifting in and out of one another in an endless hypnotising rhythm. It made you think of a funfair... spirals everywhere, from the tops of the stalls to the decorations on the rides, to the signs leading you around to those huge lollipops that tasted tooth-meltingly sweet. Happy memories, carefree, far away and non-solid but still wonderful. What were you doing? You couldn’t remember anything. You liked blue and purple, they were everywhere, all around you, such pretty colours. 

Pretty, pretty...

“... there we go. easy now.”

... You didn’t realise he was even there until he (somewhat cautiously?) spoke. Your senses were just colours. The voice was odd and a bit disembodied at first but slowly, slowly, you became aware of its source- a face hovering just over you. The awareness spread to your body, too... you were bent at an odd angle with your feet just barely lifted off the floor, your back flat on a rather uncomfortable table, gravity pulling your hair and cheeks. And he... he was just a few inches over you, pinning you by one of your wrists.

...

A tight and tense, cutting smile, clear signs of stress around his face and shoulders making it obvious that this was the smile of a man on the edge and not one of any particular joy. Deep sockets, so wide they looked borderline painful, glaring down at you with so much intensity...

... You could feel his body heat. And his breath against your face. Your heartbeat, your slightly itchy nose, how tight he was holding your wrist.

“... Mh... Huh?” You said, ever-so articulately, vision spinning in the same direction as the swirls emanating from his left socket. A similar way to how the world rocked when you were dizzy... except for you, it never righted itself. It just kept spinning and spinning and spinning. Everything was so bright, as you fell under a pleasant fuzzy sensation burrowed into your chest and mind, blanketing your thoughts as if you were just in the middle of a nice dream where nothing much mattered.

“shh...” 

When he gently closed his gloved fingers around something you had gripped in your pinned hand, you put up no fuss, loosening your hold and allowing him to take it... when did you pick up a scalpel? What an odd thing to have. The back of your head hurt and your knuckles felt the telltale aches of having been tense a few moments ago, even though they were now just an unwound coil like the rest of you.

... Dr. Baggs let out a long slow, breath. You could feel it against your nose and neck, he was that close... his mouth open barely a crack, the magenta hue of his tongue glinting against his fangs. 

“... alright.” He said, voice silky, gentle on your thrumming ears and head, sockets easing around the edges as he calmed down. The bluish shadows of sleep deprivation under them became more apparent as the tension in the room, face and posture waned. “that’s better.”

... Yeah. You thought, relaxed and calm. It is.

... He gave you the bare minimum of personal space, leaning back and helping you to sit, lifting you with the perfect combination of gentle but firm as if he knew you’d immediately feel so dizzy when you became upright. Your hands moved up and held onto his shoulders to steady yourself- the fabric of his lab coat was surprisingly soft, it was very nice to touch. 

... He was so close. Supportive but strict hands on your elbows, your knees on either side of him, he smelled like... the artificial flavouring they added candy that just wasn’t quite natural. And a specific, scented brand of antiseptic; clean and sterile and prepared.

“... well.” He hummed, reaching out of sight for something with one hand. Your forehead would bump his collarbone if you leant forward any more. His voice was so soothing and calming, especially since you were only a few inches from his clavicle... you were getting pretty close to shutting your eyes at this point, but a prick in your arm kept you from completely nodding off- you barely noticed it, too busy studying the aesthetically pleasing purple trim to his coat and enjoying the funny fuzzy sensation in your chest and temples. Oh, he suddenly had a full syringe in his hand that he was putting a cap on... where did he get that? 

“i knew from the start you’d be uncooperative, but... not that kind of uncooperative.”

He held something up to your face. You opened your mouth, (wait, why am I opening my mouth...) and he quickly placed it on your tongue. You swallowed, again, without knowing why... it was like your body was following a list of instructions that you couldn’t see or hear. Someone else had taken the wheel; tugging the right strings to make the right parts of you move when they were needed. 

... You didn’t think about it much. No panic, no confusion, no considering the implications. The thoughts were disconnected... just ships in the night, sailing by your muffled brain. All you could really think about was how whatever he’d given you was very strange and bitter and ew, you cringed, an odd acrid taste lingering in the back of your throat.

... Another prick in your arm. That’s weird, he keeps pricking me. Oh well. This time, you looked just in time to see him removing a now-empty syringe; he wiped where he’d poked your forearm with something very cold, then placed a little circular red band-aid over it.

...

There were six other band-aids on that forearm. Two green, three navy, one black... and now the red one.

Hm... I feel like I should be alarmed by that...

Again, all you could think about was how nice you felt right now. Dizzy, warm, safe. Like you’d had a little too much to drink, but now you were laying out in the sun with your friends... I miss the sun...

“most of my ‘patients’ are at least... consistent.” Baggs hummed, continuining to hold you carefully by the elbows, predicting your post-jab swaying. He didn’t seem to realise he was talking aloud, just a scientist observing his experiment, and you weren’t really paying enough attention to what he was actually saying- too many words to process, boooring. “uncooperative awake, uncooperative under. you’re always displaying aggression toward me... and yet as soon as you have no control, there’s an obediency so immediate it’s borderline subconscious. rather fascinating.”

Instead, you...

“... Sexy voice.”

...

...

“... what?” 

Apparently, that was enough to finally break him out of his thoughts. You glanced up at Baggs’ face, still only a few inches away, you kept forgetting where things were around you... the cushion around your soul never wavered but for a moment there was a little blip in the swirls. A slight interruption.

“Mmmhm.”

...

... His expression sort of... well, ‘melted’ was the wrong word. It was more akin to the sun peeking out from between two clouds. The detached, observational, scientific air to him thinned and began to evaporate... revealing something a little more warm.

The razor and unfriendly edges of his smile were rounding into something organic. Perhaps even, daresay, resembling forward. 

“my.” He purred. “how forward of you.”

“S’very nice. Very smooth...” Your tongue felt... eh. And your arm, where he’d poked you, was starting to itch. “And you have a nice face too... handsome man. I think so.”

...

His smile started growing even more, and he leaned back an inch or two as if to look at all of you and make sure you were really the same person he’d brought into this examination room less than an hour ago. “... oh really?”

“Yeah...” ... Your hands had been just holding onto his coat... but, spurred on by your sudden drunken confidence, you properly looped them around his neck.

... He blinked, but he only let himself appear taken aback for a moment or two. Despite how ominously his magenta eyelights glowed in his dark, shadowed sockets... you could tell he was enjoying himself, and this sudden turn of events. “i’m flattered.”

You laid your head on his chest. It was getting kinda hard to stay upright. 

... Your nose scrunched.

“Funky smell, though.”

That was enough to get an actual laugh out of him- albeit shortlived, his skull cocking like a curious mirthful bird. “are you... genuinely telling me that i smell, darling?”

“Yeah. Because it’s true. You’re gremlin.”

 “i’m... gremlin?”

“Mhm.”

“stars. i wish i could tell pap about this.”

Your body shifted, enough to make you lightly squeak- things were spinning so much that it took you a minute to realise Baggs had picked you up, an arm hooked under your legs and another around your back.

“you’re all done for the day, pet.” His eyelights had become a thrumming, almost amethyst colour as he looked at you, a far gentler shade of purple than his previous headache-inducing magenta. You weren’t sure what’d caused that but you weren’t complaining. You weren’t sure what’d caused him to carry you either, considering he usually just brought someone to collect his ‘patients’ for him... but, again, not complaining. “it’s time to get back to your room.”

“I feel funny.” You mumbled.

“that’s normal.”

He started walking. The halls all looked the same, as he moved through them, blending into one another... white and sterile, a few doors dotted inbetween if you were lucky but mostly just the exact same tiles and patterns and lack of anything that would clue you into the fact that people had actually (at some point) existed in this area. 

“Hm... is this where you work...?”

A little chuckle. He was sounding further and further away. “yes. this is my job, dear.”

“It’s so g... ug-ly.”

“oh? you think so?” Baggs’ tone had become... light? Perhaps a little teasing. 

“Jus... put up some nice posters, or something.” Your head was so heavy. Since when was it this heavy? You had to rest it against his chest, feeling that nice fabric against your cheek, hearing an equally nice humming sound from inside his ribcage. “Paint the walls. It’s so... white. Clini... ...clinicic... Calic...” 

“clinical?”

“... Yeah.Tthat.”

A gloved phalange touched your arm. It was probably an attempt at a comforting gesture- stroking the skin. “good to know. i’ll make sure to pass that eloquent advice along to the decorating team.”

“Good.”

He brought you to a cell-like room. It was... vaguely familiar? A bed with one pillow, thin white sheets... some strange posters and a window with bars over it. You felt like you’d spent a long time in there, but it was impossible to think straight enough to actually muster up any memories.

Baggs laid you down on the bed, slowly, handling you like you’d fall apart at any moment. You made a little noise- it wasn’t a very soft bed... but it was good enough. And your body felt so strange and tired that any soft surface honestly was nice enough to lay down on forever.

“comfy?” He asked. Since when did he inquire if you were comfy?

“M... no. S’whatever.”

...

You peeked at him, crouched by your bed... and you reached out, pressing your inexplicably heavy finger against the top of his nasal cavity in a booping motion. You mumbled a little victorious “Silly skeleton.” 

...

He took your hand in his gloved one, gently, before it could go limp and flop down. You couldn’t really make out his expression at this point.

“don’t tell the other subjects...” He murmured... he sounded amused, at least. “but i think you’ve become my favourite.”

“Course.” You shut your eyes. “I’m... m’amazing.”

“... yes. course.” 

A feeling, like a kiss on your hand, before he placed it by your side.

“... go to sleep.”

...

And just like that, your body obeyed him before your head could even process what he’d said, and you were asleep.

[formulawonu]

flutters / mick schumacher

(not my gif! creds to owner <3)

warning: kissing, getting a little touchy,, and just being flustered idk

summary: *requested by @gpiggy98​ <3* mick has just finished an intense race and you’re the only person he really wants to be around at the moment since you’re his best friend. you’ve secretly liked him for a while now and offer/give him a massage to cool down after the race and you can’t help but get flustered at the intimacy of the moment.

a/n: honestly. what would i give to have mick as my best friend. what would i give to basically have mick in my life. FOR REAL. ugh mick schumacher supremacy. anw i didnt know how to end this one properly so idk if im 100% satisfied but it was fun writing hsjakdhasd but enjoy anyway x (i’m always open to requests btw!!!!)

It’s the end of the Hungarian Grand Prix and you feel like you can finally breathe properly after a couple of hours. You’d think you’d have gotten used to going through race weekends by now but you always seem to find your breath caught in your throat and worrying over the safety of your best friend. Mick had finished in p12 - his current best finish throughout the season - and you were extremely proud of him. Despite how well he did defending from other cars on the field in the car he has, you can tell from the way his brows furrow together after removing his helmet that he’s far from satisfied. Watching him go through the procedure after each race required by the FIA from the garage, you decide to make your way back to the hospitality in order to not get into anyone’s way. You figured that you would just talk to Mick when he was free and tell him proud you are of him. What you were not expecting was Mick to show up at the hospitality earlier than you had expected, his body language clearly still tense, and motioning you with just his head to follow him up to his assigned driver’s room. He doesn’t really stop to wait for you or anything because he knows you understand that he doesn’t want to be around a lot of people right now. It leaves you feeling pleased that you’re still the one he wants to talk to. Perks of being his best friend.

“Hey, you.” You say as you enter Mick’s room, shutting the door behind you. You stand there for a while, leaning against the door as you take in Mick sitting down on the couch, his eyes shut with his head thrown back. His hair is all messy from wearing his helmet but it looks good anyway. You knew this wasn’t the right time to be thinking it, but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t acknowledge how Mick made looking stressed extremely attractive. Sexy, even. Mick pops open one eye as he lazily looks at you. “I’m so frustrated.” He mumbles. He then pats the space beside him, telling you to come sit beside him. You make your way to the couch and plop down beside him, trying not to mind the way your heart beats faster as the distance between you both has marginally decreased. Immediately after and without warning, Mick drops his head on your lap. You want to blame the lack of AC for the sudden rise of temperature in the room you’re both in, but you know that the heat is really just rising in your cheeks as you imagine how close Mick is to your body. “I’m so tired.” He continues, shutting his eyes again. You can’t stop the way your heart is rapidly beating inside of your chest and you wouldn’t be surprised if Mick could actually hear it. The vibrations that come from Mick’s voice run through your whole body, leaving you to slightly shift your thighs closer together. You bring your hands to run through his hair, hoping to distract yourself from your own thoughts by giving him a small massage. Mick hums in response. You rub small circles into his temples, picturing him doing the same thing to you in another area of your body. You have to stop yourself there. You seriously cannot be thinking about this while you’re trying to distract yourself from the fact that Mick, your best friend, is all hot and sweaty. Well, there’s always points for trying. 

You don’t realize you’ve stopped the small massage you were giving him until you feel Mick’s hand grip your knee. “Why’d you stop? That felt so good.” The heat rushes to your cheeks and you can feel Mick’s eyes on your face. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes because you’re flustered at how dirty your thoughts had gotten because of a few words Mick had muttered in passing. The fact that his hand was still on your knee also did not help your case. It was something you had come to terms with a while ago: you deeply liked your best friend - that was why you were acting like this around him. You had tried your best to ignore the fuzzy feelings that came up every time you thought of him or the way your stomach would drop whenever he was around. You tried to deny and cover it up by saying you just really appreciated him as a person, but you eventually gave in and realized it was pointless to fight your feelings. It didn’t matter anyway. Mick was still your best friend, regardless of whatever feelings you had for him. 

“Oh. Sorry.” You mutter, still refusing to look at him as you try to will the heat in your cheeks to disappear. You knew not to make eye contact with Mick because those damn eyes knew you almost better than you knew yourself so meeting them would just spell out disaster for you. He would figure out something was off immediately. You begin moving your hands again through Mick’s hair, kneading in a new pattern. Your eyes land on the hand still resting on your knee. You focus on it as you continue to massage Mick when suddenly it begins to draw circles of its own nearer your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat and you accidentally tug at Mick’s hair because of your unguarded reaction to his hand. You quickly look at his face to see if he’s felt that (though surely he has) and you find yourself looking into a pair of amused eyes. There’s a hint of playfulness in them as he’s probably made the connection that you are... well... currently going through it. “You okay, there?” He whispers, raising an eyebrow at you. You try to play it off, as you usually do. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I-” His hand moves higher up and you involuntarily pause. “-be.” You swallow and desperately try to focus on anything else but the hand that is now closer to you than you had ever imagined it to be. How white the wall is, how cool Mick’s helmet is, how comfortable the couch is. Mick suddenly shifts his position and the hand on your thigh disappears. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. The place where Mick’s hand once was now feels incredibly bare. Mick is still moving around until he’s positioned himself to be facing you, still lying down, with his head propped up by his hand. The arm propping his head up is over your legs - suddenly, you feel like you’ve fallen into a dangerous trap. 

“Hey there.” He whispers, smiling at you with those damn eyes filled with amusement. Like he knows. “Hi?” His free hand moves to trace lines up and down your arm. Goosebumps immediately come and you shiver. He smiles even wider, noting the way your body has unintentionally reacted to his touch. “Are you cold?” He continues to run a finger up and down your arm, mindlessly drawing his own patterns. His eyes never leaving yours. You know you should be answering him now, replying with anything really, but his hand has made its way back down and is now drawing circles on the part of your thigh he’s resting on. “Am- Am I what?” You ask, not remembering what he’s just said a few seconds ago. Your eyes move to glance at Mick’s hand then back to his face. Mick then fully sits up, this time lifting your legs to rest over his lap. “Something’s bothering you.” He says, gently turning your chin to have you face him. Your eyes land on his lips before you meet his eyes. “Not at all. I am just peachy.” He chuckles as you inwardly cringe, knowing full well that you didn’t sound convincing at all. What were you supposed to do when his other hand was now drawing those same distracting circles this time on your side. You had never been this close with Mick. You weren’t supposed to be this close to Mick. His eyes drop to your lips. “Can I try something to get whatever it is off your mind?” He whispers. You nod before you can think about what he’s just offered, too taken by how Mick’s face seems to be inching ever so closely to yours by the second. Your eyes flutter shut when you feel the touch of another pair of lips on yours. It starts out slow, almost shy, as if he’s checking to make sure you’re okay with what’s happening. But then you pull him closer to you, slightly parting your lips to invite him in. Your hands make their way around his neck and tugging at the ends of his hair. The pace has suddenly shifted and Mick has lifted you on top of him, letting you straddle him as he now moves his hands up and down the sides of your body. 

There was no way this was actually happening. All you wanted to do a couple of moments ago was tell Mick how proud you were of him. You push your body closer to his, trying to eliminate the almost nonexistent space between the two of you. Mick moans in your mouth, his hands gripping your waist tighter. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.” He says in between kisses. He’s trailing kisses down your jaw then your neck. “Me too. You have no idea.” You breathe into his ear. You’re about to kiss him again when suddenly you hear a knock at the door. You both pause, looking at each other wide-eyed. 

“Mick, it’s Guenther. We need to debrief quickly. Won’t take long, I swear.” You slowly move off of Mick, trying not to make noise. You were sure no one thought you guys were doing anything weird anyway but you didn’t want to be caught looking like it. Mick is still sitting next to you, both of you trying not to laugh. It’s almost like he doesn’t want Guenther to think he’s in the room. “Mick,” You hear knocks coming from the other side of the door. “The earlier we start, the quicker you can get back. Hi to Y/N, who is in there too.” You both burst out laughing, the jig obviously up. Mick finally gets up, chuckling and accepting he has to go and start debriefing. 

“I’ll see you when I get back. Still need to get that thing off of your mind.” He says, winking at you as he steps out of the room. 

[andypantsx3]

Hii can I request a deleted scene for "if I could keep cool" that tells chapter 2 from Shouto's POV? I would absolutely love to c what was going through Shouto's head when he figured out that Y/N was just a cleaning lady and what was the moment that made him want to ask her out when he saw her at his house afterwards! Thank u!!

I accidentally got carried away, so this bad boy is 1.9k!! My apologies lol. I hope you like it!!

It wasn’t every day that someone told Shouto Todoroki to go fuck himself. 

Particularly not quirkless civilians, and never those he’d rescued. 

There was usually a lot more breathless gratitude, some bowing and scraping, and—mystifyingly—a lot of phone numbers, handkerchiefs, and very unsubtle attempts to get a hand or two around his biceps. Shouto didn’t really know what his biceps had to do with it, but he’d seen the same thing happen to Midoriya and Kirishima as well—and Bakugou once, before he’d nearly gnawed the woman’s hands off—so he assumed it was just another social cue he’d never understand.

As little as he cared for social cues, however, he was certain that there was usually a lot more thank you and a little less go fuck yourself involved in the whole rescuing process.

But then, he’d also never told off a civilian for having been kidnapped before. 

A civilian who, he’d come to realize almost immediately afterward, hadn’t deserved it.

When he’d asked his mother her advice over the phone, she’d told him the best thing to do was to be honest and try to start fresh. “White flowers mean forgiveness—tulips new beginnings,” she’d advised him.

So Shouto had ducked into the nearest florist and brought back an apology in hopes that you would accept it. 

He might have known, however, that you’d manage to turn even a simple apology completely on its head.

The clatter of cleaning supplies in his kitchen on Thursday afternoon told Shouto you’d let yourself in for your usual shift. He followed the sound, only for it to halt at his approach, the kitchen seemingly empty as he drew nearer.

He stopped short, fighting down a surprised swell of amusement when he realized you’d ducked down, hiding yourself behind his counters as if anyone, especially a pro hero, might be fooled by that.

“I know you’re there,” he said, keeping his tone even.

He heard a muttered swear word, and then you were rising slowly to your feet, wearing a sheepish expression, and clutching a bottle of windex like a weapon.

You looked just as you had the day of your rescue, though obviously a little less harrowed by a kidnapping. You were dressed casually in jeans and a simple shirt, no indicator that you were an employee of a cleaning service—Shouto felt at least a little justified in his mistake from last week.

You were clearly a college student, the backpack dumped at his kitchen island was evidence of that much, overflowing with textbooks and notes as it was, and you looked just slightly disheveled, like you might have come straight from class.

It was part of some nebulous, unassuming appeal to you, now that he had occasion to notice. He’d remembered your features twisted up in disdain, but they were open in surprise now, your eyes wide, fixed on him. His own eyes were drawn to the scrunch of your nose, a little curl of embarrassment that he suddenly found himself unable to tear his gaze away from.

“I, uh, thought you weren’t supposed to be here,” you admitted to him with a visible cringe.

Shouto almost laughed. He didn’t know much about you, but it was clear to him now that you weren’t anything like a crazy fan. You looked like you’d rather be anywhere but here at the moment. In fact, you looked rather like you might bolt any second.

A strange feeling shifted in his chest, and Shouto cut right to the chase.

“I owe you an apology,” he said simply.

You startled so violently that you dropped the windex. “W-what?”

Shouto sighed, admitting, “My manager schedules the cleaning days. I didn’t realize that you were—that is to say, I thought you were a fan who had broken in and managed to get kidnapped while you were at it.”

You gaped, another confused little expression that Shouto found himself fixating on with an intensity that surprised him. The weird feeling in his chest shifted, burning a little hotter. 

He wondered absently what other expressions he could get you to make.

“Oh, I, um...nope. Not a fan,” you said, and the feeling grew more insistent. 

He paused over the phrasing—not a fan. 

It had never bothered him before, when someone was a bigger fan of a classmate than they were of him, or weren’t really a hero fan at all. Shouto honestly did not quite understand why hero work was so tied up in fandom in the first place, and only attended fan events because his manager’s temper was not a thing to be trifled with. 

He wanted to be a hero who put people at ease, but ease was the last thing he felt with people clamoring all over him. Fighting villains was infinitely more preferable.

So why did your admission that you weren’t a fan of his niggle at his brain, like a particularly insistent parasite?

Who were you a fan of, if not him? 

“...Well, glad that’s cleared up now. I’ll just, uh, go then,” you said, grabbing an armful of the cleaning supplies and shoving it back under the sink hastily.

Shouto had moved before he knew what he was doing, getting himself in between you and the door out to the hallway. 

“Wait,” he said, feeling uncomfortable. “I want to make up for what I said to you. You...didn’t deserve that, especially not right after you’d been kidnapped by a villain.”

He watched you eye the space between his hip and the counter, like you were considering making a break for it. As he watched your face, he felt some strange hope that you might try it, a certainty he would catch you. 

...Why did he want to catch you?

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. You saved me, we can call it even.”

Shouto’s mouth turned down minutely. He’d behaved badly, but surely you’d credit him better manners than that. “It’s my fault you were taken in the first place. I’d like to apologize properly.”

Your face did something weird, then, another distracting little curl of the nose. “You don’t actually have to go fuck yourself,” you blurted.

Shouto stared at you, caught off guard.

“Uh, I mean. You saved my life,” you babbled suddenly. “And yeah what you said to me was super rude, but what I said to you was also super rude. So, um, I’m sorry too. And I really would just like to call it even and forget about it because it’s super embarrassing for both of us and I could literally die thinking about it.”

You stopped suddenly, looking self-conscious like you’d realized you’d been rambling. Shouto almost wished you hadn’t.

“I hadn’t really planned on it,” he said quickly.

“Hadn’t planned on what?”

“Fucking myself,” he clarified. You choked on a shocked laugh, and he let a small smile tug at his mouth—there.

Finally.

Finally you looked a little more comfortable with him. 

Shouto tried hard not to look too pleased with himself.

“Oh, well that’s good, then," you said. Then you puffed up a little, adding, "That’s probably a job for your actual secret lover.”

Good lord. “Not you, too.”

You threw him a smile, and Shouto’s heartbeat tripped over itself. “But I have evidence. I saw that homemade soup in your fridge once with the love note attached.”

It took him a moment to focus on what you were saying, but Shouto recalled the soup in question. It had been quite good, even if Bakugou had spent almost a half an hour ranting about what a weak ass little bitch he was for catching a cold. It had almost been worth it, the soup was that delicious. “Ah yes. That secret lover.”

“Cute pet name, too,” you said.

Shouto let out a low laugh, recalling the note. “You fucking fuck, was it?”

You laughed too, tension easing from your shoulders. Shouto’s eyes hungrily traced even that small movement.

A dawning sense of what was happening finally settled over him as he pronounced, “As it happens, however, I did already plan more of an apology.”

You looked up at him, your brow furrowing. “You planned...more of an apology?”

He gestured to a tall vase of white tulips on the kitchen counter. Your eyes went a little rounder as you observed them. You looked like you weren’t sure if they were for you, as if there were another previously kidnapped cleaning girl lurking about, who might be in need of an apology.

What a fascinating thing you were.

“I’ve been told that they mean forgiveness and new beginnings. I had hoped that we might...start over,” Shouto explained. He couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.

“I didn’t bring you any flowers,” you blurted.

He covered up a surprised laugh with a cough, the feeling in his stomach burning hotter. “I hadn’t expected them.”

He watched you turn back thoughtfully to the bouquet, certain now.

Over the phone, his mother had also said white flowers carried connotations of honor and purity. Two notions, Shouto realized with a growing sense of curiosity, that may be entirely inapplicable to his feelings about you.

He didn’t know much about you, but he knew for certain that he’d like to know more. And as he watched you reach out to pluck at a petal, wearing a shy little smile, he thought that yes, honor and purity had very little to do with his intentions at the moment.

You thanked him for the flowers, and Shouto made it clear to you that he hadn’t meant what he’d said about you being unwelcome here. He wanted—no, desired your return now. 

“That’s good to hear, thank you,” you said. Then your smile went a little mischievous. “As you can see, though, it didn’t really deter me.”

Shouto let himself smirk. “If I hadn’t seen the cleaning supplies already on the counter, I would be concerned that you’d come back for revenge.”

“There’s still time,” you joked. “Maybe I was going to play the long game and fill all the bottles with Sprite.”

The mulish statement surprised him into another laugh. “I hope the flowers are enough of a deterrent.”

You looked over the flowers again, then smiled up at him. His eyes caught on your mouth.

“The bribe has been accepted. Your countertops are safe from me.” You paused, then added, “For now.”

The hot feeling was everywhere now, simmering just underneath Shouto’s skin. He left himself lean towards you, relishing in the way your breath caught in a tiny hitch. “Be warned that I will do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of my countertops.”

You complained that he hardly used them, but complied nevertheless. Then you bullied him out of the kitchen, that tiny little scrunch back on your nose.

Shouto let you have your way, making his way over to the couch and settling on it with a book he had absolutely no intention of reading. Instead, as he watched you clean, he considered things.

He had always been straightforward about his goals. Once he’d chosen heroism as his dream, he’d let nothing stand in his way, working diligently all through UA, shooting nonstop through the ranks before breaking into the top five this year, one of the youngest to have ever done it. 

He was deliberate about what he wanted. He worked hard for what he wanted.

And as he wandered back towards the kitchen, questions ready in his mouth, he knew what else he wanted.

He wanted to know more about you.

He wanted to spend more time with you.

He wanted…

Well, he rather thought he wanted you.

I was going to edit this but every time I went to touch it, I made it worse. I hope you liked it anyway!

Garbage Fest masterlist & schedule.

[thestarrynightslover]

How to Say I Love You

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,582

Warnings: Smut implied.

Summary:  One day, Jay takes it upon himself to be an extra-cute boyfriend. The reason? It takes (y/n) a while to find out.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Posting super late because the day was hard. So, just some more Jay fluff to brighten our days. Hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

As soon as you woke up, you felt light kisses being pressed to all of your very exposed skin, and an inevitable smile came to your lips.

“Good morning, princess.” Jay whispered in your ear with a husky voice.

“Good morning for you too, baby.” You answered him while bringing his face closer to yours. On that movement, before you could kiss him, you caught a glance of your bedside clock. “Oh my God, Jay! Look at the time! I thought we’d agreed to get as much sleep as we could after last night!” You quickly reprehended him. “Or have you forgotten that both of us still have to go to work today?” You asked, trying to sound annoyed at him when the most you managed to do was breathe out was a moan, as he nibbed your earlobe.

“Oh, I know how much you like sleeping, babygirl. But I know that there are a few things you’d give up your sleep for.” He stated in a very sexy tone.

“And what exactly makes you think that you’re one of those things?” You teased your boyfriend, hoping he’d respond to it like you thought he would.

“Ah, just a little something,” he teased back while slowly putting his hand between your legs, not even bothering to lift the hem of the shirt you were wearing, “like this.”

“Oh, Jay…” And, just like that, you were completely fine with waking up early.

                                                          ---

Throughout the day, you just couldn’t keep the smile off your face, as your boyfriend took it upon himself to be the cutest person in the world. Why? You had no idea. All you knew was that he'd gotten the day off but, since you couldn't the same, he'd decided to go to work nonetheless.

His romantics for no apparent reason started with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a note that read:

“Will you be my lunch date today? *blinking face*

P.S.: 12:00 - 13:00 is all I have. Sorry, doll :(

Meet me at our spot?

⎼ Your bae.”

He used bae. If he wasn’t so cute, and if you didn’t love him so much, you would have cringed at the choice, and he knew it. Ah, that man...

A few hours after that, you went to meet Jay for lunch at your spot ⎼ which was one of the benches along the Riverwalk, where you’d first met ⎼, absolutely decided on calling him out for being so mushy. But, as you walked closer towards him, you could see that your boyfriend was holding a picnic basket in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other, and, as corny as that was, you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Drinking on duty now, detective?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Nope. This one’s without alcohol. And, trust me, you’ll like it.” He told you, a sweet smile on his lips.

“Hum, maybe... But I wouldn’t really mind if it was bad either.” You half-whispered at Jay.

“Oh no?” He asked you with a smirk this time.

“No. The company makes up for anything else.” You said while moving to kiss him.

“Geez, babe, you're such a dork!" He said, making fun of you after the kiss was over.

"Really? That's what you're going with?" You, the dork? Big joke.

"What else can I say if it's the truth?" Jay asked you through his lashes, an innocent expression in-face.

"Look who's talking!" You said while rolling your eyes.

Not long after that, he put an end to your little banter. Saying that he didn't wanna spend another second of the few moments the two of you had until the evening arguing was an understatement. You agreed, even though you knew that both of you secretly enjoyed the bickerings as well as you did everything else.

Later, on that same day, when you were about to leave work, you decided to call your boyfriend.

"Hey, babe." He answered, on the fourth ring, voice letting on some tiredness.

"Hey there, handsome! I'm already leaving work, think I’mma go swim a little. Unless… There's a chance you're getting off a little earlier yourself?" You tried your luck, thinking about making him relax a little before you two left for dinner.

"Uh… Sorry, babe, I don't think I'll be able to." A deep sigh. Something was wrong.

"Jay. Is everything okay?" Another sigh. Shit.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, baby. Just a pain-in-the-ass case we can't seem to solve. When all I wanted to do was be home with you." He confessed.

"Huh. Now, tell me, who's the dork?" You heard his muffled laugh over the phone.

"I am. You know it. I know it. Everyone who knows us knows it." At that, you were the one who giggled. "And, believe me, I bear the title with pride." More laughing, from both of you this time.

"Okay, then… So, um, is there anything I can do? Maybe we cancel that dinner reservation?"

"No! No, not at all! You just… Go do your swimming and don't worry about me, okay?" Jay sounded a bit weird this time, but you brushed it off, thinking that it was just the stress of the day.

"Okay…" You replied, still unconvinced. 

"Alright, I gotta go now. Love you."

"Okay, bye. Love you too. Be safe!"

"Always, baby." With that, he hung up quickly, which he never did ⎼ always dragging the conversations for as long as he could. But, once again, you decided to do what your boyfriend told you to and not worry about it.

It was already a bit into the evening and you were stretching your body to leave the swimming pool, when you saw him. Jay. So you got out and walked over to him.

"Fancy meeting you here, miss (y/l/n)." He greeted innocently.

"Well, this is a surprise. Yet another one. On the same day." You said, just to let him know that his weird behaviors weren't going by unnoticed.

"Ah, you know what they say… Gotta keep the relationship interesting!" Ha, ha. He was up to something. So you just gave him a suspicious look. To which he answered with a huge smile, saying: "What?"

"Nothing. Nothing besides the fact that you're up to something. What is it?"

"Oh. My. God." Jay said emphatically, faking offense. "I'm offended. You think that poorly of me?"

"What do you mean?" You asked him, a bit confused this time.

"You really think that I can't just try and brighten my princess's day?" He said, walking closer to you this time.

"Well, I guess that I wouldn't object to that, but what I'm saying is tha-" Before you could finish your sentence, he was pulling you towards him, pressing your bodies on a tight embrace and kissing you passionately. 

"Oh no, Jay, you should let me go! I'm all wet!" You squeal out as Jay keeps holding you up in the air against his firm abdomen.

"I don't mind." He told you with a shrug of shoulders. "I'm used to having you like this." He, then, whispers in your ear and you can feel his smirk, as he kisses your neck.

"Jay!" You hissed in fake disapproval. "We're in public! You can't be saying these things to me in public!"

"Sorry, baby. But you know that I just can't help myself around you." He tells you, deliberately taking his time. At that, you just throw back your head in laughter. "Besides, it doesn't seem to me like you're feeling all that bothered with my actions…"

"But I am!" You said assertively. But then you remembered your conversation from earlier and asked him, in a softer tone: "Hey, um, how did the case go? Are you still feeling up for the dinner thing?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you watched Jay shift his entire demeanor.

"Yeah! We're definitely still going! And, as I told you before, the case was just a pain in the ass, nothing more." He sounded nervous. Weird. Like he was hiding something.

"Jay…"

"Let's just go, okay? Cause we still need to get ready for dinner. I already put your stuff in the duffel bag. My car's right outside." Jay told you quickly, like he didn't wanna give you time to make any conclusions.

"Okay, then…"

                                                           ---

“C’mon, (y/n/n)! We’re running late!” You heard your boyfriend shouting for you to come out of your shared bedroom.

“Hey! Don’t you dare to rush me! Not when you’re the reason I’m running late in the first place!” You sharply answered, stepping out into the living room whilst putting your earring on. “Besides, that place we’re going is just too fancy. I need to look perfect.” You added more calmly, only now realizing how Jay was staring at you. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Wha- wrong? No! No!” He quickly assured you and closed the distance between the two of you. “You already look perfect. Every single day.”

“What? Jay, I’m serious!” You pouted, giving him an annoyed glare.

“I am too! You look gorgeous, baby.” He told you with that glorious smile of his. “And, really, there’s just no place on the planet that could make you look any less gorgeous.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to get me to hurry up!” You accused, hitting him with considerable strength in the chest.

“Ouch! That hurt! And, yes, I am trying to hurry you up! Because we have a reservation!” He yelled at you in response. If it was any other time, you would’ve argued with him, of course. But even you had to admit he was right, you were on the clock.

“Okay, okay! I’m just gonna grab my purse and we’ll go!” You shouted back, already from the bedroom.

After that, the two of you managed to leave your apartment and get to the restaurant on time, due to Jay promising the cab driver a doubled pay if he went faster.

As soon as you arrived, though, you saw it was worth it. You still had no clue of what got in your boyfriend’s head to take you out on this kind of date for no apparent reason like that, especially after everything else he’d already done, but you obviously weren’t about to complain either.

 The maître walked both of you two to a table on the upper floor of the establishment, it had an amazing view of the city and it was a pretty reserved space. So, right after you'd placed your orders and been left alone, you half-squealed at Jay:

"Oh. My. God." Your smile was wide and your eyes were shining. "This place is incredible, babe!" He looked at you with devotion, clearly amused by your reaction.

"I know right? I'm really glad we got to come here." He stated, his whole behavior letting you know that he was just as impressed.

And, like that, the evening flew by and you caught yourself stifling yawn after yawn.

"Baby, you’re not too desperate to go home, are you? Because there's still one thing I wanna show you." Your boyfriend said, pulling you by your hand to get up. Then, he guided you to that part where you'd been able to view most Chicago, earlier in the night.

"Wow," you said, leaning against the balcony to see the details, "this really is great, babe." When you’d walked past this part you wondered about why they hadn't put any tables there, only a small couch, but now you knew. They didn't want to make that space ⎼ that landscape ⎼ prisoner of one couple, or one family, that would most likely stay there the entire night.

"It is." He agreed with you.

"You know, I hadn't brought it up yet, because I thought that you'd eventually tell me on your own, but you've been acting a little weird the whole day. This morning in bed, the flowers, then the picnic lunch, picking me up at swimming, and now this… You didn't sound too good on that call either, and I gotta admit that when you said we were going out for a fancy dinner, I didn't think it'd be here, where it's practically impossible to get a reservation. So, just… Talk to me, Jay."

"(y/n/n)... Would you even believe me if I told you that that's what I've been preparing to do the whole day?" He asked you with a shy smile.

"Will you be mad at me if I say no?" You asked, a bit apprehensively. He just laughed.

"Nah, not really." He told you jokingly. "But I have." He said, more serious this time. “Baby, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He started telling you.

“Jay-” You whispered nervously, sort of anticipating what was about to happen.

“No, just- just please let me finish. I need you to understand how important you are to me, princess. Hell, I know that words aren’t really my strongest suit, but you deserve to know that you’re my light, my lifeline, my happiness… You’re my everything, (y/n/n). My entire world. And, because of you, now I think that it is actually okay to dream, to hope for a better future, for a future. That’s why I wanna ask you, tonight, to be my future, just like you already are my present.” At that moment you couldn’t keep the tears off of your face anymore, and you would’ve jumped him right then if he hadn’t gotten down on one knee. “Will you marry me, (y/n) (y/l/n)?” He asked you with a timid smile and teary eyes of his own. As you took in the man you loved, kneeled before you, holding an open box with the diamond ring you’d recognized as being his mother’s, you just stood there crying, not managing to say anything. “B- baby? Please say something.” Jay spoke again, letting out a nervous choked laugh. So you forced yourself to answer him.

“Oh m- my God, yes!!” You squealed out.

“Yes?!?” He repeated what you said, still on the ground.

“Of course, yes!!!” You confirmed, pulling him up to kiss you. While at it, your boyfriend, now fiancé, almost dropped the small velvet box he was holding.

“Okay,” he started, chuckling, after the two of you parted a little, “let me put this thing on your finger before you back down!”

“Ha, ha. As if I was going to! You’re only in a hurry because you’re scared you’ll drop your mom’s ring.” You bickered a little, letting him know that you recognized the jewelry, to which he responded with a bright smile, saying:

“It’s your ring now, princess. And, trust me, she’d love you almost as much as I do if she were still here.” He told you, shining eyes meeting yours, as he slipped the stunning piece in your finger.

“Jay.” You breathed out as the tears resurfaced in your eyes. “It is so beautiful…” You told him looking down at the ring you had in-hand. “And… You really mean that?”

“100%, princess. If I’m being honest, there are a lot of times when you actually remind me of her…” He said, tearing up a little.

“Awww, babe...” You said throwing your arms around him again.

And that’s how you two stayed. Just holding each other, under a very starry night in Chicago. More than ready to start walking down that new road together.

[raineydays411]

Kind of want this adventure to be over.

Bruce Banner x Daughter!reader

Summary: You have finally found your father...just not the way you expected. You sort out your feelings and have some realizations about people in your life.

You felt sick. 

You couldn’t believe it. There he was. Your father, the man who has been missing for four years. 

He was here, being forced to slaughter people as a gladiator on a whole different planet. 

So many questions were running through your mind. How did he get here? Why hasn’t he escaped? How long has he been the Hulk?

You watch as Thor attempts to talk to him, but... it was almost like Hulk...like the attention. You watch in horror as Hulk charged at Thor. Throwing him into the wall. Both you and Loki looked at each other in concern, then glance at the Grandmaster who watched in glee.

You felt dizzy as you watched you father pummel his teammate. It was like he didn’t recognize him. He fought viscously. You cringed when you saw him slam Thor on the floor.

“YES!” Loki shouts, startling you and the Grandmaster, “THATS HOW IT FEELS!” 

You both stare at him, alarmed at the sudden outburst.

“I’m just a big fan of the sport...” He chuckles awkwardly.

He sits back down and looks at you. Concerned as you looked grey, like you were going to be sick. 

He strokes your back comfortly, “ Y/n, if you need to step out...”

“I can’t...I have to stay...” You whisper, watching Thor get beat by the Hulk. You prayed that he would get up. Then it happened.

A bolt of lighting shot the Hulk off of Thor. Then he rises, lighting engulfing his hands. The two charge at each other, and Thor starts to gain the upper hand. You breath a sigh of relief. The audience eats it up. Chanting “Thunder”, but the Grandmaster does not seem happy. Just as Thor was about to finish the fight, he was stunned by something, leaving him motionless on the ground. 

You freeze, watching as your father leaped into the air and came down, smashing Thor into the ground and knocking him out. Finishing the match. You turn to see the Grandmaster lean back in pleasure. 

“So, how do you like it?” He asks casually.

You can barely speak. Too shook up to even form a thought. Seeing your unease Loki spoke for you.

“It was very intense. A very entertaining fight indeed.” He says with a smile.

“What’s wrong with the kid?” the Grandmaster asks taking in your pale face. “ She does not look good.” 

“Yes! Well, um, it seems as though she has eaten something that made her sick. Perhaps it was the jar jar fruit”

“Oh no,” The Grandmaster states, “This is terrible.”

“Yes well--”

“I had a whole bowl!”

“Yes...I’d better take her to her room. Rest shall do her some good.”

Then Loki rises and helps you to your feet. He leads you through the crowds of people. 

You can barely walk. You don’t know why you’re reacting like this. You knew your father was here. 

Maybe it was because of how gruesome this fight could have been. Or maybe because you knew that for four years, your dad has been trapped as the Hulk, murdering aliens as a gladiator for some old lunatic. And it seemed like he liked it. 

Your legs grow weak and you nearly topple to the ground. 

“Woah, easy.” Loki says, “ Darling, take it slow.” 

“I- I think I’m going to throw up” And then you lean over, throwing up into a plant. 

“Ew.” Loki says, watching you defile that poor plant. 

You wipe your mouth and try to stand, you sway a but, almost falling to the ground. Loki then sighs and scoops you up. 

Your face burns, “ I’m sorry...”

“Shut up. I shouldn’t have made you go anyways.”

You stay silent. Resting your head on his chest as he walks you to your room. 

“You know...my dad never did this...” You whisper. Loki looks down at you in confusion.

“Did what?”

“ Carry me to my room. Especially if I was sick.”

“Oh..” Loki says, not really knowing how to respond.

“My mom was the one who did all that. But then...she got sick and...” You trail off. It was rare when you thought about your mom. It hurt to remember all the good times the three of you had, so like your father, you pushed it all down. 

“My mother did that too..” Loki muttered. He walked into your room and set you on the bed. 

“Get changed and lay down. I shall be back in a moment.” Then he walks out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

You change clothes and ay down. Trying to wrap your head around what just happened. 

Your father was here. You found him.

But he was the Hulk and basically a gladiator. 

He’s been here for four years. Killing people for sport. 

“God, I may have seen some weird shit living with the Avengers but this really takes the cake”, You think to yourself, shifting under the covers. You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the ceiling. After a few moments you heard the door open. It was Loki holding a tray of food.

“Here, this should make you feel better.” He says placing the tray in your lap. It consisted of a plate of some kind of soup, some cracker like snack, and a glass of water. 

“I know it looks heavy, but it made me feel better when I was a child and ill. Although, the one made by the cooks back home may have tasted better.” Loki rambles, “I do think I did pretty well, considering the circumstances.” 

Seeing this side of Loki was shocking. Sure, you both had your moments and you knew he cared about you, but you thought it was more like a forced partnership. But, he could have left you here alone and he didn’t. He went out of way to make you something so you’d feel better. You can feel your eyes water. 

And for the first time since you’ve been on Sakaar, you cried. You cried because you haven’t seen your father for four years. You cried because you were on a completely different planet, millions of light years away from your home. You cried because Loki was being so kind.  

You cried cause you were scared.  You felt like you were in over your head, like you can’t do anything but wait. You have no idea what you’re going to do from here on out and it terrifies you. 

Then you feel a cold hand on your shoulder. You look up to see sad green eyes. Then you’re pulled into a hug. 

“I know.” Loki says softly, “It is overwhelming, and you’re still a child.”

You take a deep breath, taking in the scent of leather and something sweet. You then closed your eyes sinking into the embrace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In another part of the castle, Thor had just woken up. Scaring the crap out of the women who were tending to his wounds.

He painfully stands up, looking around the room he was in. It wasn’t like the first cell he was in. No, this one was actually clean. It didn’t smell like body fluids or...death. It was red and white, with weapons and armor laying around. He can see a large bed and a hot tub in the room. 

Thor looks out the window, taking in the scenery and trying to figure out a way to escape. He’s startled out of his thoughts by a splash. He turns to see the Hulk in the tub, sitting in the shadows.

“...Are we cool?” He asks, holding his hands up in surrender. 

He doesn’t get a response, just a low growl. But he isn’t attacked so Thor takes it as a a sign. He goes to the window again and mutters to himself, “Huh, a Hulk in a hot tub.” 

Then he turns to Hulk, “ How long have you been like that?

“Like what?” Hulk grunts

“Like this. Big, green, and...stupid”

Hulk sits up slightly, half of his face in the shadows, “Hulk always Hulk.”

Thor doesn’t respond, opting to look out the window again, then he realizes,

“How’d you get here?”

“Winning” Hulk says proudly.

Thor rolls his eyes, “ Do you mean cheating? Did they have one of these shocky things on their necks? I meant, how did you arrive here.”

Hulk imitates a whooshing and crashing noise, “Quinjet.”

Thor gets excited, “ Yes! Okay and where is the quinjet now?” 

Hulk doesn’t respond, instead he gets out of the tub. The only problem is that he didn’t have a towel...or anything to cover himself. Giving Thor a good look at his goods.

“That’s naked...very naked” Thor says cringing. “ That’s in my brain now.”

“Quinjet.” Hulk says, pointing to where the plane is. Uncaring about the state of undress he was in.

Thor gets excited again, “Yes! I can get us home, off of this awful planet. You’ll love Asgard! It’s like earth but gold”

“Hulk stays.” Hulk grunts, taking a bit out of some fruit.

“What? No no no, I need your help to prevent Ragnarok.” Thor says desperately.

“Ragnarok?” Hulk questions uncaringly. 

“Yes, its the destruction of my home planet, the end of times.”

“Thor go. Hulk stay.�� Hulk says stubbornly. 

Thor is desperate. He needs to get home before Hela completely destroys everything he holds dear.

‘Look, I’ll tell you what, you help be get to Asgard, and I’ll help you get back to earth.’

“ Earth hate Hulk.”

“What?” Thor exclaims, “ Everyone loves Hulk! You’re part of the team, you’re our friend!”

“Banner’s friend.” Hulk grunts, not believing a word Thor is saying.

“WHat? I don’t even prefer Banner” Thor says awkwardly, “ He’s all ‘ NUmbErs aND SCienCe’ and stuff.”

“Banners friend!” Hulk exclaims. 

By now Thor is frustrated, “Fine. You stay here on this awful planet. Besides this room his hideous. The red and white, like just pick a color.”

“Smash you.” Hulk grunts

“You didn’t smash me, I won that fight.”

“Smash you!” Hulk throws the fruit at Thor.

Thor dodges it calling Hulk a baby. He heads toward the entrance that is left open.

“Thor go!” Hulk shouts.

“I am going!” Thor shouts back, but before he can step out of the room he’s shocked. The obedience puck stunning him

 As he falls to the ground, he can hear Hulk laugh. 

“Thor no go. Thor home.”

He sighs, looking out the window. He briefly hears Hulk say something about training. Then he sees her. The woman who got him into this mess in the first place. 

She pays no mind to him, instead greeting Hulk like they were long time friends. 

They go train, leaving Thor alone with his thoughts. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up in the dark room. It seems that Loki has left as you were alone. Your eyes sore from crying, you look around for your bag. You find it, pulling out your phone, earbuds, and journal. 

You write your feelings as you listen to music. 

You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to go find your father and Thor, but another part trusts Loki and wants to stay. It doesn’t help that he has been the most fatherly figure you’ve had in a  while. 

Sure you had the Avengers. You could even argue that Tony has filled that role of father figure since your dad went missing. But, you and Loki formed a tight bond in a few days that took months for you and Tony to form. You both got along well, bonding over distant fathers, dead mothers, and theater. Not to mention you both had a sarcastic attitude. If anything, he’s taken over a big brother role, but nevertheless; betraying his trust was one thing that you couldn’t do.

You sigh, knowing what you were going to do. 

You were going to find your father.

So you get out of bed and change into your suit. You put your phone in your stuff in your bag and grab your weapons. 

You walk down the hallways, not knowing where to begin to find your father. Then an idea hits you. If you can find out where Thor is, you’d most likely find out where your dad is. So with that in mind you decided to ask a guard. 

“Excuse me.” You say to a red guard, “ Do you know where the …”Lord of Thunder” is staying? The Grandmaster allowed me to go and meet him. I am a big fan” 

The guard hesitated, not knowing who you were. But since you dropped the Grandmasters name, he pointed you to the hallway Thor was supposedly in. 

“Thank you!” You beamed, making sure to skip away as if you were a fan. You skip till you were out of sight and sigh, slowing down to a walk. You strolled down the hallways, throwing fake smiles at the guards you passed. 

Finally, you reached a room at the end of the hallway. You notice a woman pass you and walk staright into the room. You hide behind a wall and listen to the conversation. 

“Hey big guy!” She says, you notice that she has an accent similar to Thor’s.

“Angry girl!” another voice says...Your fathers voice. You can hear footsteps coming your way. You quickly pull out your phone and sit down, hoping they’ll walk right past you. You don’t need Hulk seeing you right now. If anything, he’d change back to Bruce and that’ll cause a whole bunch of problems. 

Thankfully, they pay no mind to you. You watch as they joke around and nudge each other. It’s strange, seeing the Hulk to at ease with another person. 

It kind of hurts, in the same way it hurt to see your dad with Natasha. It was like you couldn’t get close to either side of him. Or he chose not to get close to you. 

Pushing away your feelings, you get back to the mission, finding Thor. 

You head  to the room at the end of the hallway. Surprisingly, there were no guards or even a door blocking your way. You can see Thor, standing by the window. His back was turned to you but he was completely still. 

You walk through the door way, and look around the room. It was messy and kinda ugly. The red and white really didn’t clash well.

Then you were startled by Thor loudly gasping. You run up to where he was.

“Thor? Thor are you alright?”

He focuses on you, eyes widening at your presence. 

“Y/n?” He says slowly, “ Y/n?! What are you doing here?”

“The Dr. Wizard said my dad was here. So I came looking for him...” You say slowly. “ Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.” Thor laughs, “ Have...have you been here this whole time?”

“Yeah, I got here the same day Loki did, so about two weeks ago. Since then I--”

“Wait, have you been with Loki this whole time?” Thor asks.

“Yeah, he’s the reason I’m still alive to be honest.” You say, “ He helped me get in favor of the Grandmaster and he’s been looking out for me ever since.”

“Loki?” Thor says in disbelief, “ My brother, Loki? He has been taking care of you?”

“Yeah, I didn’t believe it either...but he’s been so kind to me, Thor. Kinder than anyone has been in a while.” You say softly. 

Thor smiled, he was glad that there was still a part of the Loki he knew growing up. That you were alright. 

“You look awesome.” He says taking in your outfit, “Where did you get those clothes?!” 

You laugh, “ It seems like the Grandmaster likes to give make overs.” You look at Thor, “ Dude they cut your hair?!” 

“Yeah some creepy old man cut it off.” He says, suddenly he pulls you in for a hug. “ I am beyond glad to see you here.” 

You blush and hug him back, “I’m glad you are okay.’

Then you frown, “ My...my dad...he’s here.”

Thor freezes, “ Oh Y/n I completely forgot..”

“It’s okay... he looks fine” You say bitterly, remembering how chummy he was with that girl.

“ He can’t know I am here.” You say quickly, “ If he does, he’ll change back and raise suspicion.”

“I need help to get out of here.” Thor says, “ Asgard is in danger.”

“Why don’t you just walk out the door?” You ask

“Because, this neck thingy shocks me whenever I try to leave.” Thor says showing you his neck.

“Ohh so that’s why you lost the fight,” You say realizing what happened.

“I dis not lose” Thor said, “Your father cheated.”

You snicker, “What ever you say Lord of Thunder.” 

Thor sighs at the name, knowing that you weren’t going to stop calling him that. 

“Y/n, I need you to help me get out.” Thor says desperately. You furrow your brow, thinking of a way to get him out of here. 

“Okay...I have an idea.” 

You spend the next thirty minutes comin up with an idea. Revising and editing ideas that’ll get him out of here unscathed. 

That’s when you realized that you shouldn’t be here when Hulk gets back. 

“I have to go.” You say quickly, gathering all your stuff. 

“Wait, wait, how are you going to escape...” Thor says worriedly. “ Your father doesn’t even know your here.”

You sigh sadly, “ I doubt he cares. He seems pretty content here.” 

“Y/n, that’s Hulk, not Banner. Your father loves you.” 

You chuckle, “ You know, in last few weeks. Loki showed he cared about me more than my father has in all the years I’ve been alive.”

“Oh...that’s bad.” Thor says, because if you knew Loki cared about you and not your father...that was saying a lot.    

“Good luck Thor, I better go before some guards show up.” You say, patting his arm and dashing off. And again, Thor was alone. 

Running through the hallways, you bump into someone. You fall to the ground in a huff.

“Watch where you’re walking!” 

“Sorry dude, jeez don’t get your undies in a twist.” You say, getting up from the ground. You look up to see the girl who was with the Hulk. 

“Do..do I know you? You look familiar.” She says, closely looking at your face. 

“Umm, I tell stories to the Grandmaster.” You say quickly, “I better go.” 

Then you run off again, leaving a confused Valkyrie behind. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You finally make it to your room. Panting as you close the door.

“Where have you been.” 

You jump, not expecting anyone to be in your room. 

“Relax, its just me.” Loki says, rolling his eyes, “ Now, where were you? I came back into your room, expecting to find you in bed, resting.”

“Sorry, I... I went to see Thor.” You say honestly. 

“Y/n.” Loki starts, but you interrupt him.

“I know! I know I shouldn’t have gone, but I felt really bad and wanted to make sure he was okay.” 

Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked at your face, seeing your guilty eyes and frown. He’s demeanor softened, “ You are too kind for your own good.”

You chuckled, “Well, one of us has to have redeemable qualities.”

“Hey!” Loki shouts offended. You laugh at his face.

“I can get used to this” You think to yourself. You yawn, suddenly tired from all your activities.

“Get some rest.” Loki says, “You’ll need it’” 

Then he leaves the room after ruffling your hair.

As you get ready for bed and finally lay down, you realize you can’t sleep.

 You have a crushing feeling that something big was going to happen the next day.

[theladyismyshepard]

37 kill for Daniela the red head, She kills one of the servents because of jealousy but the maiden is into it?? Maybe kinda nsfw

Sorry for the wait, my friend

I Always Feel Like Somebody’s Watching Me (NSFW)

TW: Violence

The sun was beating down on your back as you tended to the garden that you grew in the back courtyard. You had appealed to the Dimitrescus the benefits of planting your own vegetables and fruits and possibly the occasional pretty flower here or there. The Lady seemed uninterested in the thought altogether, making it clear that her mind was reserved for more stimulating subjects. Bela seemed halfhearted with her thoughtfulness, quickly zoning out. Cassandra had rolled her eyes and walked away after the word “garden”. Daniela was smiling though, her eyes glittery before she nodded along almost vehemently.

“I agree,” she said unabashed, ignoring her mother’s arched brow and Bela’s scoff. “Think of the ingredients we could grow ourselves instead of sending for delivery every other week.”

“Daniela, dear,” started Alcina, sighing almost exasperatedly, “Do you plan on going out and tending to this “garden”, hmm?”

You wanted to interject, it was the perfect moment to take responsibility for the care of the garden, and possibly even the grounds just to improve your worth around the castle. Yet, it required a lack in manners to interrupt a Lady when she’s speaking, and Alcina had a severe standard when it came to manners. And so you were forced to go with the smart move and bite your tongue as Daniela’s face dropped. That didn’t stop you from attempting to gain eye contact to give her a beseeching look.

“I’m sure we can find someone.” insisted Daniela, her eyes cutting to you before snapping back to her mother. “Someone very dependable,”

“I can do it,” you piped up, taking the opportunity, eyes dropping to the floor once Alcina’s gaze fell onto you.

“The question is will you,” drawled Alcina, eyes narrow as they looked you up and down. “As in, will I allow a human thing as yourself to control anything that is mine?”

You would have fell to your knees beneath the weight of the Lady’s attention had it not been for a certain redhead to stepped closer to you. You wanted to grab her hand, pull her close, wrap yourself around her for comfort, but you don’t. You never act on it, and she never dragged you to her bedroom cackling and giggling wildly as she did with other maids when she needed to get off. Though you were also the only one who didn’t emerge scarred and torn up.

“Of course, my Lady,” you conceded, bowing your head to show a sign of submission.

“Mother,” said Bela quietly, calmly interjecting, and waited until Alcina turned to address her. “I also think that a garden would be beneficial.”

Daniela had clapped happily when she realized her sister was aiding her in swaying their mother. Your eyes couldn’t settle between the three of the Dimitrescus. Alcina cocked her head to the side, adopting a fake look of thoughtfulness to cover how unimpressed she was.

“Oh, you do, darling?”

“Yes,” pressed Bela before her mother could continue on. “Imagine the access to ingredients for remedies to give the livestock. We could even grow foreign plants required for different potions!”

Fuck the fruits and vegetables, I guess.

And that was how the Lady was worn down and forced to give into her daughters desires. The garden didn’t necessarily consist of the produces that you originally planned for, but it got you out of the castle for extended points of time, and you weren’t complaining one bit. Castle Dimitrescu was a rather large estate, so there was plenty of room for the several varieties of roots, plants, and flowers that the Dimitrescus requested you take care of.

The heat of the sun had you pulling at the hem of your shirt to bring it up and wipe the sweat from your brow. The warm breeze hit you squarely on your exposed midsection, and you felt the dripping sweat drying grossly against your flesh. It felt as though eyes were upon you and when you let go of your shirt, ready to turn to check the windows of the castle, a person standing next to you nearly had you jumping out of your skin.

“Oh!” gasped the woman — a maid, “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“It’s alright,” you assured, breathless and attempting to return your heart rate back to normal. “What’re you doing out here?”

Being outside was a luxury that none of the other maids could afford, so you were confused as to how this maid, Elle, had managed to avoid the lingering eyes that were everywhere. Her eyes averted as a slight blush came to her cheeks, and that’s when you saw the glass of water in her hand and your brain put two and two together. Oh.

“It’s hot today,” said Elle nonchalantly, even shrugging. “I figured you might need this.”

“Thank you,” you replied earnestly, grabbing the glass and taking greedy sips before you handed it back. “I appreciate it.”

“Well, I can’t have you fainting and bringing attention to yourself, now can I?” joked Elle, smiling bashfully.

You could’ve sworn that eyes were upon you, and you even went as far as to turn and check the windows, and while you thought you saw one of the curtains shifting, it also could’ve been a trick on your eyes. You furrowed your brow but turned back to Elle, who was looking at you expectantly, and for what, you weren’t sure. You smiled warmly.

“Thank you again, Elle, but I don’t want to hold you up any longer than I have.” You warned, making a face to emphasize, and she nodded in disappointment but reached forward to squeeze your hand.

“Stay safe,” she said, the maids’ usual words of departure.

“Stay safe,”

Eyes were watching you, but you couldn’t see from where, and that was the most dangerous predator: the one who hides before striking, and there was one predator who always had her watchful eye on you. Daniela. You gulped at the thought of Daniela catching another maid outside just to talk to you... no one, not even you were allowed to bend any of the rules, not even once... not when you were so easily replaced. Hopefully if you just went back to attending to the garden (rather stiffly), you could pretend that nothing would be amiss when you went back inside.

***

There was tension hanging in the air, thick enough to choke, and it had your spine as straight as a rod as you trudged through the pristine castle with your overall dirtiness, your shoes abandoned at the door. It was oddly quiet, and when the maids spotted you, they turned away quick, eyes wide with fright. Every step you took towards any of them, the maids took about six or seven steps away from you. Castle Dimitrescu might’ve been weird, but that was a new one...

You gave up on making conversation and instead wandered off to find a clean uniform to change out of the more comfortable wear you wore to tend to the ingredients. There was the nagging feeling that something was off in the air... Where were the Lady’s daughters? Their signature cackles failed to echo off the walls, and it left an uneasy silence in its wake. Now that you thought about it, you weren’t running into Elle either as you wandered deeper into the castle and found the maids’ quarters.

You quickly changed and made yourself presentable for your next task, and then you were again walking through the silent halls as you made your way to the kitchen. There was no real warmth to the kitchen, not when the stove had gone untouched for as long as you had been there. It wasn’t your place to question things around there, but you couldn’t help but to ask questions when you stepped inside and there was a silver platter with the cover still hiding what was underneath. What had you puzzled was the note that simply read your name propped right up against the cover.

You craned your neck when you felt eyes upon you yet again, but nobody was there... you knew better though and that’s what had needles prickling your skin and a cold sweat to break out. All that was missing was the giggling, but this really seemed like one of Daniela’s games she enjoyed playing. You turned back to the platter, and reached for the handle of the lid. After a shaky moment of building yourself up, you ripped the cover off like a bandaid, and froze, arm still raised.

Placed neatly upon the silver platter was Elle’s severed head. Her eyes were closed, and for that, you were grateful... you were too ashamed to look her in the eye seeing as this was all your fault. As your breathing hollowed out, that was when you finally heard a deep chuckle, one that had you going rigid... this wasn’t the Daniela that you had gotten used to, but it was one you were aware she could possess. Was she directing it towards you? You dropped the lid with a clatter.

“I didn’t like her very much.” said Daniela simply, and you gulped. “She liked you too much.”

You couldn’t miss the edge in her voice on the word. You finally blinked (your eyes suddenly burned) and looked away from the platter to connect eyes with the redhead. She wasn’t smiling and that was never a good sign. You forced a smile, one that you were scared was too obviously false.

“I didn’t like her either.” You choked out, fully turning your body away.

“You didn’t?” asked Daniela, her voice suddenly small and seeking reassurance, and you were struggling to keep up with her complete 180.

“Daniela...” You couldn’t say what you really wanted to... She was just bringing me water! “Why does it really matter to you so much?”

“Because you are mine!” She snapped, and you frowned.

“Doesn’t every maid here belong to you?” You countered, though you had to admit, you have more leeway than others did.

“They belong to the family, but you, you are mine, darling.” purred Daniela, stalking forward very slowly until she was before you. “No one else can even look at you the way I do.”

“But the other maids that you’ve...” You cringed, unwilling to finish, but Daniela picked up on what you were trying to say.

“I feed from them and that is all... Getting them a little scared makes the blood just a bit sweeter.” chuckled Daniela, and you frowned yet again.

“I thought you-”

“Slept with them?” Daniela drawled, now it was her turn to frown at you. “As tempting as it was, I think there’s one delicacy that I’m saving my pallet for.”

Her eyes roamed over your body with no holds barred, and you weren’t sure how you felt about the shiver that tingled down your spine. The fact that there was a severed head behind you was kinda throwing you for a loop. Daniela had her index finger and her middle finger tiptoeing up your arm until she was gingerly holding the side of your neck with obvious care. You gazed into her eyes and you were thoroughly entranced by the red headed beauty that would kill for you.

“Do you love me?” You whispered, almost afraid that what you were asking was a stupid question. Daniela’s face softened.

“I absolutely adore you, my love,” cooed Daniela, pulling you into a searing kiss that had your heart stuttering in your chest, and when the need for air had you pulling back, she already had her eyes open and watching you. “No one can take you away from me.”

Any sane person would hear the threat for what it really was, but there was nothing sane about the feelings she evoked from you just by being near you, even with Elle’s head served up right beside you. There was something about her possessiveness that could make you either feel very secured, or somewhat aroused, and you could hardly think of anything else but the fingers scratching at the hair at the base of your neck.

“I doubt anyone would be capable of taking me away from you.” You mused, and it was true. Bless the soul who tried to free you from the clutches of Daniela.

“Hm,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as her eyes cut over every inch of your face. “Perhaps I should leave my mark for all to see?”

What surprised you the most was it seemed as though she was genuinely asking you. Her hand was still scratching the back of your neck, and her free hand reached up to rub soothing circles along your jugular with the pad of her thumb. Daniela’s compulsive attitude can lead her to doing whatever the hell she wanted without fear, but here she was, asking for your permission to drink from you. This redhead never failed to be full of surprises, and you found that you kinda liked that Daniela was so crazy for you.

“I belong to you,” You said quietly, unwilling to break the atmosphere that was enveloping the two of you, and you knew you said the right thing when her eyes shone with nothing but adoration and if you looked closer, love.

Daniela continued to cup the back of your neck with one hand, and used the other to hold you carefully by your shoulder, and she gently guided you to expose your throat just a bit more before she slowly bit into your throat. You gasped at the initial sting of your flesh giving way beneath the power of her teeth, but you allowed her to continue what she needed to do and permitted the subtle pull at your bloodstream. You felt the vibration of her own moan against your skin and it had you lightheaded.

“Daniela,” you groaned, feeling her teeth still inside of your skin with every syllable, and it also felt good when the hand on your shoulder rubbed down your arm and up your back.

“Does that feel good, darling?” pressed Daniela, unlatching just long enough to pull back and bat her eyelashes at you. “Do you love this as much as I do?”

Her tongue flattened against your bite mark, cleaning you of any trickling blood before she moved to the opposite side. She placed an open mouthed kiss there before she latched on once more, prompting your whole body to flinch within her grasp, but trust Daniela to hold on tight. It felt as though there would be a couple bruises by the time the next morning rolled around, but something told you that was a good thing to have within Castle Dimitrescu. It was like your own charm to ward off the evil that could lurk around the many hidden corridors.

You felt her pushing you back up against the table, and your foot brushed against the lid, causing it to scratch against the floor with an unflattering sound. The small of your back connected with the table, leaving you no more room to go backwards. Your hands flew to the edge as you used the table as support as Daniela basically leaned her full weight into you as she fed and marked you.

Your eyes flew open when she abruptly pulled away, her chin smeared with your blood and her eyes crazed with desire, but also soft with emotion and it was directed right at you. She never broke eye contact as she slowly dropped to her knees before you, and your breathing became irregular as she reached forward to push the end of your uniform up higher and higher until you had to shiver at how exposed you felt.

“Do you love me?” asked Daniela suddenly, bringing your wandering mind to a complete halt, and you looked down into her wide, almost innocent eyes as she stared earnestly up at you. “I never heard you say it to me.”

“I love you more than life itself,” You responded and you were surprised at just how honest it felt... You could die tomorrow and you’d have felt content enough to just allow it.

Daniela’s megawatt grin was so wide that you knew there was no way of it coming off anytime soon, not with the pure happiness radiating from it, and certainly not with the way it reached itself to her eyes. She giggled madly and soon it was the only indication of her because she disappeared beneath the skirt of your uniform and you jumped at the warm tongue that was persistent in searching your body. Your knuckles turned white as your grip on the table tightened and you lost yourself to the wetness of Daniela’s tongue on you, and you found that it was true...

No one could ever steal you away from the perfection that was Daniela. Not when she was the only one that could turn you on with a familiar severed head just inches away..

[lazywonderlvnd]

Hi, if you are still taking prompts; A magically powerful Harry not noticing that his magic does things to make Draco happy. This can be pre-relationship or established relationship. Like it starts of with his tea being exactly as he likes and always the right temperature. Then evolves to rooms changing colour or weather changing or people being unable to invade Draco’s personal space due to an invisible barrier or something ridiculous. Btw Draco doesn’t notice as well.

anon.....you really killed me w this one. i’ve been so emo over this wyugeahrwiw might end up writing smth longer tbh bc this concept is literally the only thing that matters to me!!!!!!! i hope u enjoy i had so much fun with it ❤️❤️❤️

“Harry, you do it. Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“We’re fucking watching something, Draco!”

“So just pause it!”

Harry grabs the pillow on his lap and slams it onto the sofa next to him. Hermione can see dust rise in its wake. He pauses the telly. 

“Are you doing it?” Draco asks hopefully. Harry scowls at him. 

“Well you won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry disappears into the kitchen and Draco sits there looking smug.

“It’s kind of sick how you get off on bossing him around,” says Ron, his tone one of simple observation. His fingers are idly playing with Hermione’s hair, but she doesn’t think he notices he’s doing it. 

“If I’m not mean to him a few times a week I break out in a rash, Weasley,” Draco says blithely. “Besides, he makes it perfectly. I don’t know how he does it, it’s always exactly the right temperature and sweetness and all that. I s’pose his years as a house-elf for those Muggles gave him plenty of time to perfect the art.”

“You’re a twat,” says Ron. “And my mum makes tea better than him.”

“Well you’re just a pitiful little mummy’s boy, aren’t you, Weasley? We can hardly trust your opinion.”

“Hark who the hell’s talking,” Ron scoffs. “Least I’m not twenty-three and still calling my mum ‘mummy’ like the world’s biggest bloody ponce.”

Draco splutters but before he can retort Harry’s coming back into the room hovering four cups of tea that float placidly to each of them. Draco looks exactly like a satisfied cat as he takes his and Harry drops back down onto the sofa next to him. Not too close, but certainly not too far, either.

“Literally exquisite,” Draco declares after he’s taken a sip. Ron rolls his eyes.

“It’s just tea, Draco,” says Harry, and he grabs for the remote to turn the film back on. “You’re such a demanding little brat. Merlin’s fucking tits.”

But Draco looks happy and Harry looks suspiciously content as well. Ron turns to her and makes a silent gagging face. Hermione snorts and puts a finger to her lips. They’ve decided not to say anything yet.

*

“Wasn’t this place a lot … uglier last time?”

“What?” Harry says absently. He’s not listening — he’s got all his attention zeroed in on a stack of parchment he’s holding. They’d only barely dragged him along to lunch; earlier the captain of the English National Team had apparently owled him a great number of brand-new Quidditch plays and required Harry’s extensive thoughts and notes before their next practise, which was tomorrow morning. 

“Uglier,” Draco says emphatically, and Ron mutters something she doesn’t catch. “Remember? The walls were that tragic egg-yolk colour.” He shivers. Hermione thinks it might have been an honest-to-god shiver of revulsion. She also thinks she knows what’s happened, even though the extent of it surprises her.

“Maybe someone heard you whingeing and changed it,” Ron apparently can’t stop himself from saying with a snigger. Hermione elbows him hard and he shoots her a glare, mouthing, he doesn’t know!

Harry would usually be the one to take the lead and get them a table when all four of them go out to eat together but today he’s too wrapped up in his Quidditch plays, so Ron steps forward and does it, which makes Hermione’s chest flutter pleasantly. He’d blush down to his bones if she ever said it aloud but he’s quite capable of being a leader in Harry’s absences. 

“Whatever happened,” says Draco pointedly as they’re led to their table, “it’s a great bloody blessing, I was genuinely unsure I’d have the mental fortitude to survive another assault like that on my delicate senses. And, I mean, this —” he gestures to the walls, which are now an admittedly pleasing dark teal above a white trim “— is stunning. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Is it? So weird they picked your favourite colour completely by coincidence,” Ron says, and Hermione elbows him again. Draco notices nothing and neither does Harry, although he does finally set the plays aside once they’re seated at the table.

“Are you complaining about the wall colour again?” he asks drily. They would both be extremely displeased to know they sound like an old married couple. Draco snatches haughtily at the paper napkin on the table and unfolds it to place over his lap. The first time he’d ever done this at a regular, decidedly not upscale restaurant Ron had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal adopting a posh accent to match Draco’s and saying things to the waiter like “Don’t you have crystal?” while holding up a glass cup full of Pepsi and then commenting “These aren’t real silver, you know” after making a show of inspecting the titanium utensils. 

“I can complain about hideous design choices if I want to,” Draco tells Harry with his nose in the air. “Thankfully they’ve rectified it this time.”

On the other side of the restaurant, Hermione sees two employees talking, one of them gesturing at the wall with utter bewilderment. She doesn’t point it out.

*

“Twelve o’clock,” says Ron, nodding past Draco’s shoulder. “Some bloke staring you down hard, Malfoy.”

Draco looks excitedly behind him, but what Hermione takes more notice of is the way Harry’s face falls a little. She can’t help but wonder if he even realises it’s happened. She’s almost certain he’s aware of his feelings for Draco even though he still hasn’t said anything to her (and she’s been waiting months now, the effort of holding her tongue growing only more difficult by the day, and she knows Ron’s always seconds away from shouting at him) but she doesn’t think he knows how obvious he is. Draco doesn’t seem to know either, but she thinks that’s because Draco feels exactly the same way. She’d have called them morons, but she remembers too well how long it had taken her and Ron.

“What the fuck, Weasley,” Draco hisses, turning back around with a scowl that makes Ron laugh and Harry perk up again a little bit. “He looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in weeks.”

“Now, now,” says Ron, “mustn’t judge books by their greasy covers.”

“Then you go shag him if you think he’s so fit.”

“Maybe I will,” Ron says airily, as if he really is considering it, and Hermione can’t help chuckling and kissing his cheek. Then his expression changes to one of wicked amusement, which makes all of them look round to see the bloke coming their way. Hermione glances at Harry to find that — oh yes, he looks flustered and vaguely upset.

“Hullo,” says the greasy bloke to Draco as he comes up beside him at their table. He’s really not terrible-looking, but if she’s learned anything about Draco in the last couple years it’s that his standards amount to models and Harry Potter, so this man has almost no chance.

“Hello,” Draco drawls, reminding her fiercely of his younger self at Hogwarts. “I’m not interested.”

“Right little narcissistic bugger, aren’t you?” the man says. And now, finally, he’s begun to look as revolting to Hermione as he’d done initially to Draco — a repellent personality can do that. “Maybe I just wanted to come and have a chat.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at any of the rest of us?” Ron asks, sounding halfway between amused still and a little put off.

“Can you leave, please?” Draco interjects, cringing away from the man encroaching slowly on his personal space. And suddenly, as he looks on the verge of antagonising Draco further, he shifts his feet and slips, landing right on his bum with a yell of surprise. All four of them get to their feet to see, but there doesn’t seem to be any liquid or even slimy food for him to have tripped on.

“The fuck ...?” the man says, getting back to his feet. But when he moved towards Draco, he only slips again, on absolutely nothing at all. Something clicks and Hermione looks at Harry: he seems as confused as anyone else (if obviously pleased).

She looks at Ron then, who catches her eye and lifts his brows like he’s thinking the same thing.

Draco’s suitor gets up once more and steadies himself, looking a bit dazed. Some deep animal instinct seems to tell him to stop trying, and with a wary glance at Draco he finally leaves.

“Well that was a bit of a fucking scene,” says Harry. Draco, coming out of his own startled daze, laughs.

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “wonder what could’ve possibly happened.”

*

“I really thought it was going to rain,” Draco mopes where he’s standing at the window. It’s grey outside but it definitely doesn’t look like rain and Draco appears so upset about it that Hermione actually feels badly, even though she’s quite glad for the clear weather. 

“Just shut the curtains,” Ron suggests from his place on the floor. He’s sorting through Harry’s collection of VHS tapes, trying to decide on a good Halloween movie. Not that he’s ever seen any of them, and Hermione suspects he’ll end up choosing whichever cover he likes best.

“It’s not the same!” Draco wails. “The thunder and lightning is all part of it, you uncultured pillock! The atmosphere is all wrong.”

“It’ll be just as good when we shut off all the lights and draw the curtains,” she assures him, but it doesn’t remove the look of disappointment from his face. It’s a pouty sort of thing that echoes the brattiness of his youth; she imagines a five-or-six-year-old Draco giving his parents similar looks when he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

 At that moment the front door opens and Harry walks in carrying two grocery bags, one of which contains alcohol, which Hermione can tell by the way the plastic is bulging around the cans.

“The fuck are you all doing here?” he says by way of greeting.

“You said eight o’clock, fuckhead,” Ron tells him without looking up. “But it’s fine, I’ve had time to pick a film and Malfoy’s had time to moan about the weather.”

“What’s wrong with the weather?”

“I wanted a storm!”

At that exact moment, a flash of lightning lights up the sky behind Harry where he hasn’t even closed the door yet. Seconds later a downpour begins, and then there’s a rolling crash of thunder.

Hermione’s eyes widen and once more she finds Ron’s gaze, who looks about as shocked as she feels. Draco, meanwhile, has his hands over his mouth and looks like a child on Christmas morning.

For the first time since his magic had begun picking up on Draco’s wishes and granting them of seemingly its own accord, Hermione sees Harry look suspicious. He peers behind him at the storm suddenly raging outside his house before slowly closing the door. When he turns back he looks directly at Hermione, who looks away quickly.

They set up the food Harry had gotten — all kinds of Halloween-themed sweets — and once everyone has their drinks (“Make mine,” Draco tells Harry, “you do it best”) and is comfortable on the two sofas in the room (Harry and Draco are, as usual, as close to each other as they can get without actually touching) they start the movie: The Thing, which Harry swears is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

Funny thing is, an hour and a half into it she looks over and, with a jolt, realises the two of them are kissing half-covered beneath a blanket. She elbows Ron, who positively beams when he notices.

“Fucking finally, dear sweet Merlin,” he whispers, the sound muffled by the continued rain and thunder. “I nearly hit him upside the head when he made it rain, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shh!” Hermione hisses, though she’s smiling. “They’ll hear you. We’ll rag him about it tomorrow.”

A soft sound of laughter comes from the other sofa that Hermione identifies as Draco’s, and when she risks another peek after a moment she sees that Harry has a hand on Draco’s jaw, and that he’s smiling.

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART THREE

Part One, Part Two

Warnings: just some swearing

May 1995

“We’re totally gonna get a record deal!”

Luke said for the tenth time in the past hour as he bounced in his seat.

It was Friday night and normally, you would all be messing around at the park, the beach, or just watching a movie in the studio. But when your phone rang and it was the booking manager for the Orpheum telling you that Sunset Curve is officially the new opener next month, the boys insisted on being there the second your shift at the diner was over.

So instead of arguing about having another Star Wars marathon or playing at the pier, you were all packed in your regular booth at Cece’s for celebratory milkshakes. You sat on the very edge of the booth, practically falling asleep on Alex. Ever since you got the call that morning, every cell in your body felt supercharged with excitement.

But now that the day was coming to an end, you could hardly stay awake enough to pay attention to the conversation.

Bobby, who was in your usual spot, pinched Luke’s arm. “Don’t jinx it, dude.”

“It’s not jinxing if you know for sure.” Luke said. “I mean, we’re awesome! And we’ve worked so hard to get to this point. It’s all gonna pay off.”

As much as you wanted to believe him, you were still nervous. There was nothing you were prouder of than your music, and you knew that a crowd that big would be good for gaining a lot of new fans. But the idea of that many people seeing you perform and hearing your lyrics was nerve-wracking.

You could tell the others felt the same way. Bobby was biting his nails, Alex was bouncing his leg so hard it almost hit the table and Reggie was slumped against the wall. Luke just stared at all of you, his bright smile never fading.

He snapped his fingers so loud that you jumped at the noise, then he started digging in his pockets. “I know what’ll cheer you guys up.”

Luke pulled out a safety pin, then brought its point down into the table, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in concentration. After a few minutes, he brushed off the table and presented his design proudly. It was four words in huge slanted letters.

‘SUNSET CURVE WAS HERE’

“Seriously, Luke?” Alex said, his eyes wide. “Cece’s gonna kill you!”

Luke just smirked and handed him the pin, gesturing to the space under the words. “‘C’mon, man. You’re up first.”

It took a lot of convincing, but Alex eventually gave in, and one by one, you all signed your names.

‘Alex,

Bobby

Reggie

Luke

(Y/N)’

You heard the sound of Cece’s heels hitting the floor as she exited the kitchen. Panicking, you shoved the pin in your pocket just in time as she came up to the table. 

Before she could even see that anything was different, Reggie pointed at Luke.

“He did it!”

Cece frowned before inspecting the table, letting out a deep sigh and putting her hands on her hips.

“Are you vandalizing my diner, Patterson?”

Luke paled. “It was a group effort.”

“But it was your idea,” Alex said with a smirk, no doubt trying to pin the blame on Luke to keep his spot as Cece’s favorite. You had to bury your head into his shoulder to contain your laughter.

You could tell from the way that she was struggling to keep a straight face that Cece wasn’t actually mad but you weren’t gonna tell Luke that. He tried to kick Alex’s leg under the table but he hit yours instead. You hissed in pain and Luke paled even further.

“Shit, sorry, (Y/n).”

“And abusing my staff?” Cece joked, shaking her head.

Luke flashed her a charming smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, Cece. Just got a little excited.”

“I can see that.” She laughed then turned to you. “Hey. Get up. I got you something.”

You looked up at her in confusion but she didn’t offer you any answer as you dragged yourself up. Cece pulled a small blue box out from behind her back and handed it to you. “What’s the occasion?”

Cece rolled her eyes. “Just open it.” 

The first thing you saw was a folded piece of paper with your name on it, under it was a silver key. You picked it up and held it in between your fingers as you carefully unfolded the paper to see three words in Cece’s careful handwriting.

just in case

You looked up at her, eyebrows knitted together. “Cece?”

She just winked as she put her hand on your cheek. “Honey, you know that I couldn’t have more faith in you and your rockstar dreams. But just in case things don’t work out...well, I couldn’t imagine giving this place to anyone else.”

You flew into her arms and hugged her so tight it was a little painful. Of course, all you wanted was for Sunset Curve to get signed to a label and take over the world. But this place was like home to you and the idea of owning it some day made your heart swell. “Thank you!”

The booth erupted in cheers and Cece playfully glared at them as she tucked you under her arm. “But you have to promise you’ll keep these boys of yours from doing any more damage to the property.”

Bobby scoffed. “Hey, we’re not-”

You slapped your hand over his mouth before nodding at Cece. “I’ll try my best.”

The bell on the door jingled to announce the arrival of another customer, and Cece left to greet them. You twirled the key around in your hand and looked at the boys' smiling faces, unable to hide your own.

As you settled back in the booth and took a sip of your milkshake, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was coming together.

2020

L.A was somehow so different, yet exactly the way you remembered.

The way the bright lights flooded the streets, to the way that every surface you see was decorated with a piece of art, made you anxious to re-explore the city you loved so much. 

You couldn’t help but stare through your swinging legs at the crowds walking around below, listening to the soft buzzing of the Orpheum’s sign above your head.

An hour ago when Luke had suggested walking around the city, you figured you would end up here eventually. But now that you were actually here, you couldn’t help the hollow feeling that settled in your stomach.

It must’ve shown on your face because Luke launched into one of his motivational speeches. “C’mon, guys. I know being dead wasn’t our first choice. But you gotta admit, it is easier to get around.”

Reggie pouted. “Easy for you maybe. I lost my shirt on that one.”

You hadn’t even noticed that he was shirtless until it reappeared in a flash and he sighed in relief.

“So, why did you bring us here?” Alex asked Luke. “Just another painful reminder of where we never got to play?”

You smiled sarcastically. “Yeah, thanks, Luke.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Because, we’re not done yet!”

He slung his arm around Alex’s shoulder, and gripped yours as he poofed you all down to the sidewalk, pulling away from you as fast as possible once your feet were back on the ground.

“I’m telling you.” Luke said. “We’ve been given a second chance. Let’s go see how many clubs we can hit before sunrise!”

He started walking down the street and Reggie was quick to follow, leaving you and Alex behind. As you watched them skip down the sidewalk, Alex let out a sharp ‘hey!’ and you whipped around to see him rubbing his shoulder.

A man in a long black suit stared straight into your eyes before tipping his hat to Alex and disappearing down the street. Every hair on your body stood on end as you stared at the spot where he was just standing.

“That was weird.” You said, turning to Alex. “You okay?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You could hear Luke and Reggie’s excited shouting as they ran down the street, but you and Alex kept your distance. He reached his arm out to you and you took it automatically.

Over the last six months, Alex had become your best friend. You had always been close but last summer when things got bad with his parents, he turned to you.

And when things started to get weird between you and Luke or you had a fight with your mom, Alex was the only one you wanted to talk to. 

“Alright.” Alex sighed. “Out with it.”

“Out with what?”

“I know you’re dying to talk about Luke.”

“I am not!”

Alex raised his eyebrows, clearly not convinced.

“Besides, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Nothing-” He took in a sharp breath. “(Y/n), for someone so smart, you’re acting like a dumbass.”

You put a hand on your chest, dramatically gasping. “Alexander Mercer! I had no idea you were capable of using that kind of language.”

He flashed you his middle finger before unlocking his arm from yours and pulling you into his side. “Seriously though. What’s rolling around up there?”

You were quiet for a few minutes as you rested your head on his shoulder. “I just want to know what I did, you know?” 

Alex nodded, but didn’t say anything, as he knew that you were just getting started.

“I mean, he’s always been there. He's always been my person. The one who I could count on for anything. Then that night in the studio, I thought…” 

You trailed off and Alex held you a little tighter. Even though he wasn’t there, he could probably describe that night in exact detail from the amount of times you had told him about it. “I just miss him."

“Yeah, I know.” Alex said, his eyes glued to Luke’s back. “But, hey, you know that he loves you, and that didn’t change because of one night.”

He started to say something else but cut himself off as he saw Reggie and Luke approaching, both with big, goofy smiles. Reggie took your arm that wasn’t around Alex’s back and locked it in his.

“What are you guys talking about?” He asked.

“Nothing!” You said way too fast, cringing to yourself as you dragged Reggie down the sidewalk. “Come on, Reg. Let’s go see if that old comic book shop is still around.”

As the night wore on, you became more and more thankful that you weren’t able to get tired.

You spent the whole night sneaking into concert venues, clubs, and pretty much any place you wanted now that there was no chance of getting caught. It wasn’t until you passed a small street-side café that you let yourself think about the one place you hadn’t been yet.

Cece’s Diner.

When Julie told you it had been 25 years, you assumed that it had closed down. That Cece had moved away. Maybe even reconnected with her son and lived out her life. It seemed like such a perfect thought that you didn’t want to ruin it with reality. 

But now that you had seen the way things had changed in the time you had been gone, you were now filled with a sense of urgency. You launched up the sidewalk until you were in front of the boys.

“Hey, guys?” You asked. They all stared at you curiously as a smile slowly spread across your face. “Anyone up for milkshakes?”

-

When you walked up to the diner - for only an instant - it was as if no time had passed. You felt the urge to run inside, throw your hair up in a ponytail, and make a beeline for the kitchen before you got in trouble for being late for your shift. 

Only as you got closer, you realized how much had changed. The building, which had always been a little ordinary and worn like a well-loved home, now felt about twenty stories tall. You dragged yourself forward toward the door, unable to look away.

The boys lingered behind you, but no one said a word. 

Your hand reached for the doorknob before you remembered that you wouldn’t actually be able to touch it.

I really gotta get used to that, you mumbled to yourself as you walked through the door.

It looked so different that you almost didn’t recognize it.

The bright blue paint had been replaced with brown on every wall, bookshelves lined the corners of the room, and long leather couches had replaced the booths and tables. The old jukebox had disappeared, and some old jazz song was playing over speakers over your head.

“Can I help you?” 

A voice asked from behind the counter. It was a boy that looked a little older than you, messy black hair and an uninterested smile. He dragged a blue pen across the margins of a book as he waited for your answer.

“You can see us?” Alex asked, to which the boy rolled his eyes.

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” He said, raising his eyebrows when you all failed to answer either of his questions.

“My, my. Aren’t we chatty.”

“Who are you, exactly?” You said, trying to mask your annoyance with a smile.

“Teddy.” He said, pushing himself off the counter and making his way around until he stopped just a few feet ahead of you. “And you’re (Y/n).”

A shiver ran down your spine. “How do you know that?”

“You were a friend of my grandma’s.”

Before you could ask what the hell he meant by that, a man came walking out of the kitchen. He looked so much like Cece that it made your stomach flip. It was her son.

And as you looked back at Teddy, your mind slowly connected the dots. “You’re Cece’s grandson?”

He nodded.

“Okay, this is just too weird.” You said as you rubbed your temples. There was no way that this was actually happening, right? Maybe you somehow fell asleep and are having some weird ghost dream. 

“Okay, well I definitely feel old.” Alex sighed.

Your head was spinning. “What is even happening right now.”

Teddy smiled. “Well, it’s too bad we’re dead or else I would buy you coffee and explain it to you.”

You internally cringed at his pick-up line but you couldn’t help but laugh a little. Normally, random guys flirting with you made you uncomfortable but behind his cocky attitude, he seemed like a genuine guy.

Maybe it was the way that he twirled his pen between his fingers the way that Cece used to, but something told you that there was more to him than meets the eye.

Before you could answer, Luke spoke up. “Well, it was nice meeting you. But we really should be getting back home.”

You could see that he was right as the pale light came in through the windows as the sky started to lighten.

But you couldn’t help but notice that this was the first time he had interjected in the conversation since you got there, and a small part of you wondered if that had anything to do with the way that Teddy was staring at you.

You shook those thoughts from your head, giving Teddy a soft smile.

“Maybe next time.”

Though you weren’t capable of getting cold, you still shivered a little as you walked through the door and back out onto the street. You could feel Luke’s eyes on the side of your face, flickering down to the sidewalk when he saw you looking.

You gave him a light nudge on the shoulder, and he gave you a soft smile that you couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind.

That was pretty much all you got from Luke these days.

“So,” Luke said, his enthusiasm returning in full force as he threw his arms over Alex and Reggie’s shoulders. “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially back in business.”

-

The second that you landed in the studio, your jaw dropped.

Julie was sitting at the piano, her voice shaky but full of passion as she belted out the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard. Her fingers hit the keys expertly and you smiled.

You closed your eyes, listening to her voice echo through the room and getting lost in the warm feeling the lyrics filled you with. It wasn’t until she stopped singing and sniffled quietly that your heart dropped.

Both you and Alex surged forward to comfort her but Luke shook his head and swirled his finger, signaling to meet up outside. You wanted to protest. To stay and comfort your new friend.

But Julie sniffled again and you thought that maybe it would be a good idea to give her space. You made a mental note to talk to her later and poofed out of the garage.

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

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[spacexcowgirl]

Lightning In A Bottle - G.W.

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: There’s no one who makes George feel quite as alive as Y/N. But will making a move ruin everything?

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Slight drug/high mention (blink and you'll miss it), alcohol insinuation, kissing, George being head over heels in love with Y/N, I don’t think there’s anything else but let me know?

A/N: for the anon who requested a George x Reader based on the song “Electric Love” ! I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go with this originally, but I decided to be lightly inspired by the tiktok trend with this song (where best friends kiss at the peak of the song). Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

If you were to ask George Weasley what he was thinking about at any given time, his answer may vary, but always stay within a similar realm. Maybe he’d say pranks, or quidditch, or missing his mum. No response would be particularly groundbreaking, and you’d probably move on to his twin brother to receive a more outlandish and off-the-wall answer. What you wouldn’t know, though, is that whatever George chose to reply with, was most likely a lie.

You see, George did think about all of things listed, but there was something else that plagued his thoughts far more often than he’d ever like to admit. Y/N Y/L/N.

The two of them had been best friends for years now, having met during their first year at Hogwarts. Y/N had this presence that even at the age of 11 had pulled him in. His worst days could be brightened by her smile alone, his best days made impossibly better when she appeared at his side. She was like the strike of lightning shocking a darkened night sky to life, the sugar rush that surged energy throughout your body. She was a drug that brought George to his highest highs, and he would be remiss to let her slip through his fingers.

If it wasn’t clear, George was smitten with the girl. It had now been nearly half a decade that he had harbored feelings for her, and he had never acted on them. He was terrified of being rejected or messing up their friendship entirely. Some part of him was addicted to the rush her presence brought, the way she lit up every room and nearly set him, body and soul, ablaze. He couldn’t risk losing that over his silly feelings.

So, now he sat at a Gryffindor party, where he should be celebrating after a victory over Slytherin. But, he just didn’t have the heart for it. Not while he watched her speak animatedly to Roger Davies, a beautiful smile lighting up her entire face. Even from his place across the room, George could see that Davies was contributing very little to the conversation, but rather seemed just as enamored by her as everyone else.

“Keep staring, why don’t you?” A voice startled George slightly, causing him to gulp before realizing that it was only Fred. “Not like that’s creepy at all.”

“Oh shut it,” George grumbled in response, although he couldn’t help a slight blush from rising to his cheeks. He hated being caught looking like a lovesick puppy.

“Seriously, mate, when are you just going to man up and ask her out?” Fred took a sip from his cup, and George didn’t miss his slight grimace as the liquid burned his throat.

“We’re not talking about this.” George groaned. 

Obviously, he was closer with Fred than anyone else in his life, but Fred just didn’t get it. He hadn’t met a girl that got his heart racing the way Y/N made George’s heart race. So, any girl that Fred was casually interested in, he went for. And it always worked out. George could take a shot at flirting with random girls that he thought were fit, because they didn’t really matter. But the idea of making a fool of himself in front of Y/N, the possibility of ruining things, it made him feel ill.

Fred looked as though he was going to press his brother further, but was cut off by the music stopping abruptly and a sharp whistle garnering his attention. In the center of the common room, Angelina Johnson stood atop a table, her hands cupping around her mouth as she made an announcement.

“Oi, we’re going to be starting a round of truth or dare, if you wanna join come over.” 

Fred glanced over at his brother, a devilish glint sparkling in his eyes before they both wordlessly communicated that they would be playing. They wandered to the center of the room with a few others, Fred immediately jumping over the back of the couch with ease. George took a place on the floor instead, figuring someone else would want to sit on the couch more. He couldn’t help but grin widely when Y/N took a few steps, then plopped down on the plush carpet beside him.

“I‘ve hardly seen you all night, hot shot,” Y/N bumped her shoulder into his, a teasing smile on her lips. “What, you hit the most bludgers in a game and suddenly you’re too cool for your best friend?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” George teased back, chuckling heartily when she gasped and lightly swatted at his arm. “I’m only kidding! Godric, woman, excuse me for wanting to give you your alone time with Davies.” He had intended for his words to come of jokingly, but he heard the way he sneered out the other boy’s name, and he couldn’t help but cringe.

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up, as if she truly had no idea what he was on about, but before the conversation could progress any further, Angelina was clearing her throat and garnering all those who gathered’s attention. She explained that if anyone refused to answer the truth or do the dare they were given, they’d have to take a shot to make up for it. Hums in agreement sounded around the circle, then it finally got started.

George could feel nerves bubbling in his stomach, because it seemed no one was holding back that night. Of course, he was always up for a challenge and very little scared him, but Fred was playing too. And every time he’d catch his brother’s eye, and Fred would shoot him that smirk, George knew he was planning something. 

It was Neville who was the one to ask Fred ‘truth or dare?’ And George’s stomach immediately dropped. That meant Fred would be going next, and he was certain he’d be choosing him. After Fred finished his one-minute long hand stand, per Neville’s very PG dare, the older twin immediately set his gaze on his brother like a predator locking in on its prey. George gulped, causing Y/N to side-eye him warily.

“Georgie,” Fred cooed innocently. “Truth or dare?”

George pondered his options for a moment. If he picked truth, there was a chance Fred would ask something that would force him to admit his feelings for Y/N. Of course, he could always refuse and take a shot, but that would look awfully suspicious, wouldn’t it? Then again, he didn’t even want to imagine what Fred would come up with for a dare. Biting down anxiously on his bottom lip, George pleaded with his brother wordlessly.

“Come on Georgie, we don’t have all night.” Fred exhaled.

“Dare.” George settled on, not granting himself another moment to ponder which was the right choice. As the corners of Fred’s lips curled upward, making him looking strikingly like the Chesire Cat, George was certain he made the wrong decision.

“Alrighty then,” Fred leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I dare you to kiss Y/N.”

“You creep!” Y/N laughed out, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Why would you want to watch your brother kiss me?”

George was certain his face couldn’t get any redder, but his expression was contorted into one of anger. Fred had never understood limits, he always took everything a step too far, and usually George was the one to reel things back in. Fred’s expression seemed to soften at the sight of George’s genuine frustration, but it offered little reprieve to the situation.

“Or, he can take a shot. No big deal.” Fred scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck, doing his best to fix the situation he created. Everyone else seemed eerily silent as their gazes shifted between George and Y/N.

“Yeah, I’ll just take a shot.” George sighed.

“Why?” Y/N spoke, a little too quickly. If George didn’t know any better, he’d think she almost looked embarrassed.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable…” George trailed off sheepishly.

“Right, right,” Y/N nodded in understanding, but George could sense the change in her usual demeanor instantly. “That would be so weird, especially in front of everyone.”

“You guys could go into one of the dorms for privacy?” Angelina suggested, causing both George and Y/N to shoot her a glare. 

George was prepared to come up with another excuse, to just take the shot and move on, but then Y/N sighed and glanced over at him, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth. It was like the small action put him under a spell, and suddenly his mind was entirely blank. With a shaky exhale, he nodded, then stood and offered Y/N his hand to help her up.

There was a few shouts and hollers as the two exited the group, and George was certain he distinctly heard Lee shout ‘I expect Georgie to be wearing your lipstick when you two get back!’ But he could hardly focus on anything but the feeling of Y/N’s hand in his own. The people who weren’t playing the game sloppily danced and moved around, and George was careful to weave the two of them through the crowd as he guided her towards his dorm.

It was like a sort of electricity was surging between them, flowing back and forth between the spot of their interconnected hands. He found himself wondering if she could feel it too, hoping desperately that it wasn’t all in his head. 

As they ascended the stairs, the music from the party became more and more distant. Still, even when they made it to his dorm and shut the door, they could lightly hear the muffled melody from below. George dropped her hand and looked around desperately, a quiet swear leaving his lips as he took in the disastrous state of his room. Of course, he hadn’t anticipated that the girl he was practically in love with would be in his dorm, so he hadn’t had the good sense to pick up.

“So…” Y/N trailed off, seemingly unfazed by the state of his dorm. 

“So.” George repeated, scratching at the back of his neck.

Y/N breathed out a sigh before stepping further into his room and making her way towards his bed. She patted the spot next to her, signaling for him to join her. George was quick to oblige, of course.

Y/N’s eyes seemed to trace every inch of George’s face, her gaze soft. She was usually so energetic and lively, and George adored that side of her, but this newfound quiet demeanor had him weak in the knees. Godric, he longed to know every one of her sides, to memorize every quirk and edge of hers. After her eyes had exhausted the expanse of his freckled skin, they finally landed on his lips, before returning to his deep brown eyes. Then, slowly, she began to inch just a bit closer, her eyes fluttering shut.

George wanted this, so desperately. He wanted nothing more than to cup her face and kiss her senseless and fill her with that same electricity she constantly filled him with. But there was a small voice in his head that was telling him she would never feel the same way as him, and this was a recipe for heartbreak, and the moment their lips met, everything would be ruined. So, he pulled back abruptly and cleared his throat.

“We don’t have to do this.” George spoke hoarsely. “They’ll never know if we don’t.”

Y/N’s eyes remained shut, squeezing just a bit tighter as she let out what sounded like a disappointed huff. George could read the embarrassment on her face when she finally opened her eyes but couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, her eyes remained trained on her lap.

“Is the idea of kissing me really that awful?” Y/N’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

“What?” George sputtered, certain he must have misheard her. “No! No, that’s not what I mean—”

“What else could you mean?” Y/N’s voice raised, her usual fire seeming to awaken. “Godric, every chance you’ve tried to get out of it. Do you know how embarrassing that is, Weasley? Do you know how that makes me feel?”

George sat stunned, his mouth hanging slightly agape as she continued on her rant. She was now on her feet, angrily wringing her wrists. Her nose scrunched up in that little way it always did when she was frustrated, and even though it was clear she was not happy with George, he couldn’t help but be endeared by her even then.

“Obviously, you can do whatever you want. I’m not saying you have to kiss me.” She continued, pausing her pacing for a second. “But… We’re best friends, yeah? Am I really so bad you can’t stomach even a peck? What does that say about me, George?”

She allowed herself to glance at him for one moment, waiting to see if he’d grant her any answers, before scoffing and turning away. She was about halfway to the door when George’s senses seemed to come back to life and he forced himself to his feet to stop her. His hand gently encircled her wrist and she was quick to whirl around and look at him in confusion.

Perhaps it was the fact that George had dreamed about this moment for so long, but there were a number of things that stood out to him about it. For one, the sound of his pounding heart beat mixed with the music below, both gradually building up to a crescendo. And he knew, that was the moment. 

Their lips collided right when the mixed sounds of the music and his beating heart seemed to hit their peak. It was as if everything in the universe had been building up to this moment, or at the very least everything in George’s universe had. His lips seemed to tingle where they connected, this mutual energy rushing between both of their bodies. Y/N arched against him, thankful when his arms found her waist and kept her from tumbling over. The passion he portrayed in the kiss made her knees feel weak, and all at once she felt both entirely useless and completely alive.

If George thought that just being in her presence had an effect on him, that was nothing compared to having her lips on his. The feeling of her body curved against his was certainly something he could get used to, and he was certain it would kill him to never experience it again.

Y/N was the first to pull back, slowly, and draw in a deep breath. George found that he couldn’t help himself, though, and chased her lips for another, shorter kiss.

When they finally pulled apart for real, they both gazed at one another with the same question in mind; what did this mean? Before George could speak up and ask, he got distracted by her once again biting down on her lip. He did his best to hold in his groan, knowing damn well she would be the death of him.

“Do you feel that, too?” Y/N spoke, her eyes searching between his. 

Y/N didn’t have to explain what she meant, because George knew, and he did feel it. Instead of answering her, he removed one of his hands from her waist and took her hand gently in his own. He placed her palm over his heart, covering it with his own, and let her feel the rhythmic and steady pounding against his chest. Once he was sure she understood, he brought her hand to his lips and placed a light kiss against her knuckles.

“I only didn’t want to kiss you because… I knew I could handle never kissing you, never knowing. But to kiss you once then never again?” His voice was quiet, although he hoped it was reassuring. “I didn’t think I’d be able to do it.”

“George Weasley,” A smile grew on Y/N’s lips, the one he knew so well, the one that sent a shiver down his spine. “As long as you promise to always kiss me like that, I’ll never ask you to stop.”

With that, Y/N used the hand that remained around his neck to pull him down once more, grinning as their lips moved together. He flipped their position around and slowly began to walk her backwards to his bed, only pausing when she pulled back.

“You know, I think we’re gonna have to thank Fred after this.” Y/N teased, eliciting a groan to tear from George’s lips as he tilted his head back.

“Please, love, can we not talk about my git brother right now?”

Y/N’s giggles filled his ears like the sweetest melody, and he was certain that even a siren luring him to his death could succeed if they sounded as beautiful as her. 

Y/N made him feel alive in the way she shot him little smiles at breakfast, or how she’d slide her notes to him when she knew he wasn’t paying attention, or how her voice would carry the loudest as she cheered him on during Quidditch. Now, he knew she also made him feel alive from the feeling of her soft lips against his, from the way her body arched into his touch, and how even in a moment like this, she’d find a way to joke. As he gently pushed her back onto his bed, he realized he couldn’t let her go now that he had her.

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