#this is what I get for not picking up a WC book since the fourth series

[cushfuddled]

You can tell I'm going through old folders lol! Some Warriors OC's: Skybird the calico (a dark forest cat attempting to weasel her way into StarClan via good deeds...this plan is Not Going Well); Cricketfang the fluffwad (lesbian TNR cat); and Rabbitnose (old man who has slept through both a fire and an avalanche)

[livingemkayde]

waterfront

neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: Rated 18+. CONSIDER THIS YOUR FUCKING COMMUNITY LABEL LOL. Minors please dni. Smut. unprotected p in v. age gap. Pet names. Dirty talk. Dom!joel. Oblivious ass reader's dad. Not proof read one bit (per usual). 

a/n: thank you so much for the recent love. you guys are honestly so funny - COMMENT ASK REQUEST PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME IM SO LONELY ON HERE. this lil mini series has really pushed me to write despite some…things (and by things—i actually have been getting a shit ton of hate on my din fic for some weird reason?? so im really happy this dbf corner of tumblr is very accepting cuz that was really making me feel…SAD LMFAO). also do you guys picture joel in this fic as game joel or hbo joel - i wanna know. please enjoy this token of my gratitude as always. 

wc: 4.5k

this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:

part i part ii

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars.  “That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 

“Sweetie? Have you seen the sunblock?” 

“Yeah dad, in the back bathroom!” you yell back from your room. 

It’s honestly unbelievable. 

Packing. 

You’re packing. 

For a weekend getaway at some beach house property one of Joel’s client’s offered him for the weekend.

Joel’s client. 

Joel Miller.

Who got down on his knees for you at your graduation barbecue. Who fingered you in the front seat of his pick-up truck when your dad was looking for you. 

Who refused to talk to you after that. Not like you were trying anyways. This had to stop. Especially since you and Liam have been talking more and he’s…nice. Boring—sure. But he’s what’s good for you. 

He even got you a job at some hardware store on the other side of town. 

Liam was keeping you company—no—keeping you busy. But not enough to stop the incessant thoughts of your middle aged neighbor who is—even worse—probably your dad’s only close friend. 

You tried to keep your distance. For your sake and Joel’s. You don’t want to know what’s going on in his mind anymore. All you know is he continually runs laps around yours. 

You can’t shake how he looked at the barbecue. How the sea of people parted for him like he was Moses, greeting him with strong handshakes and acrylic nails wrapping around his bicep. But even worse, you can’t stop thinking about how through all those people—he found your eyes first. 

You tried to convince yourself that maybe Joel was thinking the same thing you were. That this—whatever it is—was actually fucking ridiculous and had to stop. 

Because it did have to stop. But it never felt ridiculous to you, as much as you will yourself to believe. 

You tried to convince yourself that much when your hand was down your pants in the middle of the night. Something sounding a lot like Joel’s name on the tip of your tongue as you made yourself come. 

You aren’t sure if your dad has seen much of him either—saying something about how he was booked through the fourth of July weekend with a huge project he was working on with his brother. 

That’s why you were shocked when your dad came up to your room with a grin explaining he counted you in on the weekend getaway with Joel, Sarah, and the two of you. 

You were excited to see more of Sarah — she had really grown up in the time you were away. But with Sarah comes Joel, and you aren’t sure if the butterflies in your stomach were from anxiety or anticipation at that thought. 

A half a day after your dad told you to get packing, you’re in the backseat of Joel’s truck, Sarah at your side, while she talks everyone's ear off about something. You aren’t really paying attention because Joel can’t stop stealing glances at you in the rear view mirror—and let's be honest. You can’t stop either. 

“—so then she said to me that it was my fault. I mean can you believe that?” Sarah slaps your arm gently while finishing her story. 

She looks around the car for approval and the dads just shrug their shoulders. You give her a sympathetic look. 

“Sorry Sarah, sounds crazy,” you say, grabbing her hand. You—honest to god—tried to pay attention but there were so many names thrown out you couldn’t keep up. It didn’t help that the man in the driver's seat kept you up at night—almost every night—since the barbecue. 

“I know! But then Jackson was like okay with it so whatever,” she gives you a knowing look, finishing her story—don’t say anything else because my dad’s here.

“Boys,” your dad murmurs to Joel under his breath, but you catch it. 

You also catch Joel shaking his head in response, letting out a huff and a—

“Tell me ‘bout it.” 

You meet his eye through the rear view mirror and drop his gaze quickly. His knuckles go white on the steering wheel. 

You think you’re almost off the hook and maybe can get some rest but Sarah lets out the first of many—

“Are we almost there yet?” 

Four more of those and you arrive at a secluded beach house on the coast. Joel pulls up to the back of the house, you can see the deck which leads down to the beach. Sarah and your dad hop out of the truck hastily—excited to see the house, and enter through the back door. It leaves you and Joel in the car together. Alone, for a few uncomfortable seconds until he finally speaks. 

“You alright?” 

It throws you for a loop. Joel Miller asking if you’re okay? You must be dying. You look at him through the mirror, an eyebrow raising. 

“‘M fine,” you reply back, monotone.

“Do you wanna talk?” 

Another surprise. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. You made that clear,” you huff, putting an emphasis on you so maybe he can start to feel an ounce of what you do. 

He gets out of the car but you don’t move from your position. Your dad and Sarah have disappeared into the house, undoubtedly claiming the best bedrooms and rifling through the owner’s things. 

He opens your door, his hand hanging off the top of it while his other braces himself on the car near your head. He dips his head closer to you, taking up the entirety of the door frame. 

“You gonna be a brat this whole trip?” His drawl, rich and velvety, almost tricks you into leaning up to kiss him, but you snap out of it from his words. The name shouldn’t make you clench your thighs together like it does. You opt for anger over letting him see what he does to you.

“I’m the brat?” You bite back. He’s not going to do this again. If it’s your last dying wish, Joel Miller will learn a lesson this trip. For leaving you high and dry. For being a fucking asshole, just like you told him at the barbecue a couple days ago.

“You think parading that lil boy ‘round here s’okay?”

“Again with Liam? It’s not any of your business.” 

You look at him. Really look at him—and there’s a certain emotion behind his eyes you can’t place. Like he’s biting his tongue, and you know he is.

“What, Joel? God,” you say, exasperated. 

“Nothin’—I—” he pauses like he’s trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. Then he says something that surprises you—like maybe he really does care about you and what happened in his truck. 

“He make you laugh?” 

You stare at him, shocked, and you can’t help but soften your gaze. You feel like bursting into a puddle of tears—but what’s even worse—you feel like running into his arms. 

“He doesn’t make me cry.” 

He looks down at that. Like he’s defeated. 

“I told you I care,” he throws his words back in your face. From when he had his tongue buried inside you. 

You roll your eyes. 

“What? You think I want it like this?” He continues when you don’t respond.

“I have no fucking idea what you want.” 

“I want to not be sneaking around behind my friend’s back. Your dad’s back.”

“Didn’t stop you before.”

He pushes off the car at that, putting his hands on his hips while scoffing to himself. You think you catch him mumbling something and before you can bite your tongue you urge him to speak up. 

“Insane,” he grunts.

“Sorry?” 

“I said you drive me fuckin’ insane.” 

You pause at that. Partially because his tone suggests it’s not the typical insane but like he can’t stay away from you. Like you drive him up the walls. Like he can’t stop thinking about you. Maybe even the kind of insane he makes you feel. Maybe it's the same thing he does to you. And you didn’t know you did…anything to Joel. 

“That’s my job,” you reply sarcastically instead of saying something stupid—or something you regret. 

You break his gaze—looking down to unlatch your seatbelt. When your hand goes to click the button, you stay fiddling with it; the latch fails to come out of the buckle. 

“‘S jammed. Need to get a repair,” he reaches over you to unlatch it himself. 

But you don’t get your hand out of the way quick enough and your fingers meet over the button. 

He pauses, you both do. The contact makes your head spin. 

You think he’s going to pull away. An apology is already braced on your tongue but instead of moving or retracting, he tentatively rubs your hand with his thumb instead, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature. 

He’s in your space, and he smells like Joel, and you don’t think the two of you have ever shared a more intimate moment. Not even when his mouth was between your legs. 

You look up at him, hesitant, because you aren’t sure what’s going to be looking back. But he stares at you, his eyes soft. Joel looks down to your lips and back up to your eyes. His brow twitches a bit. You let out soft pants—the peaks of your breasts threaten to ghost against his chest. 

He looks at your lips again and inches closer, starting to duck his head. 

“‘M sorry,” he grumbles in a low, dangerous drawl that shoots right up your spine. 

You don’t think it’s a phrase he says often. You’ve never heard it. It sounds foreign on his lips, especially when they’re inching closer to yours. 

“For what?” You squeak out, a breath cutting through your words. 

“Everythin’.” 

Your eyes urge him to continue. 

“Thought I could stay away f’m you.” 

He gets closer. 

“Thought it was the right thing.” 

You shake your head. 

“But I don’t think I can stay away.” 

“Don’t stay away. Don’t go,” you plead with him and shake your head. All of your plans to make him pay have honestly gone out the window. But when he says things like that and he really—honest to god—means them? You know you’re fucked. 

“'M here.” 

You close your eyes at his words and will your tears back when they close. All you can smell is Joel and all you can feel is his hand coming up to loosely wrap around your throat, the curve of his palm hugging your collar bone. 

“Look at me.” In a blink, you do. 

He’s closer, if possible. 

And he kisses you. It’s the first time he’s ever kissed you. It’s not tentative, or aggressive.

This kiss feels like the real apology. Not him on his knees for you and then ignoring you after. He kisses like he’s willing you to forgive him. You know he’s not good with words—that’s why this kiss feels like the heartbreak that had settled in your chest is scattering. It feels like your old fantasies and butterflies breaching the surface are making you moan into his mouth. 

He kisses you like a man starved, but also like he’s scared of messing up again. 

It feels fucking good—he feels fucking good. 

His hand on your throat lengthens your neck to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his bicep and squeeze the life out of him. 

His other hand pulls at the hem of your shirt and almost ghosts the skin of your stomach but the sound of a door slamming snaps you both out of it. Joel turns to see Sarah pushing out of the patio door with her back turned towards you, carrying towels and a cooler. He quickly unbuckles your seatbelt with dexterous fingers, helping you out of the car.

You act like you were helping him unload the flatbed when Sarah turns around—a big smile cast on her face.

“Get your bikini on! Let’s go!” She looks at you and nods towards the ocean over her stack of beach supplies. 

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” 

You hustle into the house with a duffle slung over your shoulder. You can see your dad in the kitchen rifling through the pantry—the cooler for drinks and food abandoned on the floor near the fridge. 

You find a bathroom and change into your swimsuit quickly. You don’t miss the wet spot on your panties. From a kiss nonetheless. You’re beginning to think you’re way more fucked than either you or Joel like to believe. 

You rush out onto the patio. Sarah is probably shoulder deep in the water and it’s way too fucking hot to be sitting under the sun without taking a dip. You haven’t been to a nice beach like this in a really long time. You don’t remember the last time you went on vacation. 

This is nice.  

Joel is being way too…nice. 

You pass him on the way to the beach where you see Sarah jumping through the water. He looks at you, subtly. Out of the corner of his eye. You try to avoid his gaze and hide your blush but you can feel his burning eyes shift to the back of your head as you give him a small smile in passing. 

“Dad! C’mon let's go!” Sarah yells from the water. You look to see Joel staring back at you—you drop his eye when your dad busts through the door. 

“‘N a minute!” Joel grumbles as he throws his duffle over his shoulder, carting in a crate of barbecue things for the weekend. 

Your flip flops splat on the deck as you break into a small jog down to where Sarah is. She smiles at you as you run into the water. The two of you playing in the salty spring like teenagers—well she is—you aren’t. 

You can see your dad and Joel settle on beach chairs some yards away from the shoreline. They sport a couple beers and talk amongst themselves while watching you and Sarah play in the water. 

You catch Joel’s eye a couple times. He even comes down and throws around a football with your dad. He splashes and teases you all day. 

When the sun finally extends down to the horizon and the water turns orange from its light, Sarah tells you she’s beat and basically hobbles back over to the dads on the beach chairs. She slumps down onto the one next to Joel, you move towards them as well, trying not to blush because you know Joel is looking at you before you meet his eyes. 

“Tired?” Joel asks, not to you or Sarah in particular, but it falls on you—Sarah already asleep on the beach chair. 

“Exhausted.” You plop down on the chair beside your dad, taking a towel and drying your hair off before moving to the rest of your body. 

“Want dinner? I’ll make my burgers,” your dad inquires, beginning to stand and take the beers with him. 

“Sounds good dad.” You stand and wrap the towel around your body. “Need a shower.”

You try to wake Sarah up gently, she grumbles and stalks off to the house, you, trailing behind her. She kicks her flip flops off at the entrance and moves to the couch in the living room. She’s back asleep before you get the chance to enter the door. 

Your dad moves to the kitchen, you don’t know where Joel went. Maybe you left him back on the beach. You move to take a cold shower, the small tug in your stomach grew to be quite big when you caught him staring at your exposed skin on the beach. 

When you get upstairs, you enter your designated bedroom. You smile when you realize it has a bathroom attached to it. You strip off your bathing suit, putting it in the sink of your bathroom. 

You wrap a towel around your body and go to twist the knob of your shower. When you tug it towards hot it comes off the shower wall with a chink and you curse to yourself, the water coming out in a leak rather than a stream. 

You huff. This is not what you need right now. 

“Dad!” You call from the doorway of your bedroom—not wanting to venture further in just a towel. 

You turn away from the door—moving into the bathroom, trying to chance figuring out how to fix it instead, when a pair of footsteps fall by your bedroom door. 

“You okay?” A voice calls from your bedroom, but it’s not your dads. 

You jump at the sound of a honey rich southern drawl echoing your name as Joel pushes through the bathroom door to find you in your towel, holding the shower handle.

“Jesus—” he looks away with a cough, you can tell he’s shocked to see you in just a towel. But when he sees you holding the handle he does a double take. 

“What the hell did y’do?” He flips between giving you privacy and moving toward you with an outstretched hand, taking the shower handle into his own. 

“I just tried to turn it on and it snapped off,” you try to reason with him, a flush coming to your cheeks when he comes into the bathroom. 

“Move,” he grumbles, sneaking by you. In the brief moment you come chest to chest, you look up at him and he lets out a groan. His hand snakes by your waist. He looks down at you—a dangerous look in his eyes. 

Joel breaks first, moving towards the shower. 

“I’m gonna—yeah—just…uh thanks,” you gesture to your towel and shut the door to the bathroom behind you. Leaving Joel in there alone. 

You throw on an oversized t-shirt and underwear before he comes out, sans shower handle. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, suddenly self conscious you didn’t have time to put on pants. You aren’t sure why. Joel’s seen…a lot already. 

“‘Course,” he says, but doesn’t leave like you anticipated. 

“You havin’ fun?” He asks. There’s something in his tone that suggests he doesn’t actually care. 

“Yeah,” you reply, breathless, “Thanks for inviting us.”  

“sorry—I—” he points to the bathroom, “thought you were in trouble or somethin’.” 

“‘S’okay.” 

He looks at you, and down to your bare legs, your underwear just peeking out from beneath your shirt’s hem. 

The way Joel looks at you—like you’re the only one who matters—stokes the fire growing in your stomach. The look in his eyes tells you he’s still wrestling with his moral compass. Like he needs to stay away for his own good, but like he said in the car—he just can’t. 

Joel nods, and steps back like he’s turning to leave. You don’t want him to. You need him. When you take a tentative step toward him, he suddenly breaks into stride in your direction. The dam of fleeting touches and wandering eyes for half a day breaks. He grabs your face in his hands, kissing you hard. His tongue slips to run over your bottom lip and you whine into his mouth. 

Your hands come up to rest on his chest. His, wrapping around your waist while he dips his head to start kissing your neck.

“Joel–” you start, but the feeling of his lips on the sensitive parts of your collarbone punches your breath.

He only hums at that sentiment. 

“Where are we going?” you manage to get out, when he’s tugging you into the bathroom by your wrist, shutting the door behind him. 

“Need to fuck you,” he groans into your ear as he spins you around, so your hips press into the bathroom counter. You can look into the mirror and see your reflection. You look entirely too fucked out from a couple kisses and he looks stone cold. 

“J-Joel—ah—jesus,” you moan when his hand dips to your front and catches your clit through cotton. 

“Say please,” he groans into the skin of your neck. You turn your head to catch his lips in a chaste kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, but you don’t mind either way. He’s close, he’s here and he’s kissing you. 

You break away from the kiss just enough to whine out a small, “Please–fuck–”

You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but you know if that’s what he wants—you’d give him anything in this particular moment. 

“Nicer.” 

You whine, the pad of his finger catches your clit just right.

“Please, Joel,” you cut out through bated breath. 

He huffs, you can hear the sound of clinking and shuffling behind you—the tell tale sign of his belt coming undone. 

“Alright, baby, c’mon,” he pushes you down, folds you in half, your breasts pressed against marble. It's cold, and his hot hands on your waist, snaking down to slot his fingers in your underwear makes you dizzy. 

“You’re a tease,” he groans when he eases your underwear to the side, the head of his cock catches your clit.

“Joel—p—fuck—” His cock catches at your entrance. You both pause for a second, reveling in the feeling. One of his hands grips your waist so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises by dinnertime. The other pushes your face down—fingers tangling in your hair. 

“Look in the mirror,” he growls, lifting your head up by your hair, just enough so you can watch his face as his tip slips past your entrance. 

He stretches you out just from that, you muffle down a scream in your throat. 

Joel’s mouth goes slack but he doesn’t react much with his face. He just looks down at your bodies connecting and pants while he slowly slides home. 

“‘S big Joel. Feel so good—oh my god—” he breaks you open and splits you in two. His breath cuts somewhere behind your head—your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. 

He buries himself to the hilt, you curse and mutter inconsistencies into the bathroom. His iron grip on your body goes tighter if possible. 

“Eyes open,” he growls behind you. “You can take it baby, c’mon.” 

You will open your eyes, focusing on him in the mirror. He has a sheen of sweat already casing his forehead, his shirt is half unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“Relax, angel,” he pants. “You’re squeezing me — could barely get it in,” 

He settles there, you try to relax but the stretch makes you squirm underneath him. He lets you adjust to his length, cursing every time you clench around him. It’s filthy. Obscene. He’s pushing your head up — lifting you by your hair, so you can see him spear into you with no remorse. He’s filthy, and so are you. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars. 

“That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 

“More please,” you whine, meeting his eye in the mirror. The air is thick in the bathroom now, the potpourri on the sill of the window doesn’t really mask much of anything. 

He complies—surprisingly. Moving faster and harder, each push of his hips knocks you into the counter. The grip on your waist gets impossibly tight. The hand pulling at your hair finally lets you rest back down on the counter, pushing hair out of your face when you look back at him. It rests on the back of your neck. 

“Feel so good baby,” he groans. 

“Joel—I’m—I can’t, I’m gonna—” 

“C’mon angel, come for me,” he says, you take another peak at him through the mirror. He looks wrecked. But you look even worse. 

You get impossibly tight around him while he mutters things you can’t hear over the ringing in your ears. You think you hear him toss out a small that’s right when you finally spill over the edge. 

He fucks you through it, his pace doesn’t let up, the coldness of the counter brings you back to reality. Where his breaths are becoming groans and pants and he strokes your cheek with his thumb. 

“‘Nother,” is all he says when your tight walls finally relax, molding to him and only him. 

“I–I can’t—” you say, slumped against the counter. You sound cock drunk. It’s halfway true though. No one else has ever made you come twice in one night. You were starting to think it might be a myth. 

“Know you can, pretty girl,” he goes slow at that, angling down so the tip of his cock catches something inside you that lights the fire again. “There we go. ‘S okay, can feel it already.” 

He pushes you towards another orgasm, it washes over your entire body and you slump against the counter. Maybe it’s some sort of weird trance he has you in. Or maybe you were right and this — whatever it is — is getting bad. Fast. You’re threatening to fall. But he’s there, and he picks you up and holds you down. 

“Jesus. Fuck, baby,” he curses into your skin when your release coats his cock and lets him sink deeper, thrust faster, push harder. 

“Joel—fuck. Fuck.” Maybe the overstimulation should be getting to you, but you stay there like that, as he speeds up and his thrusts become more frantic. He chases after his own orgasm. 

“Turn over,” he says, hastily. His hands move at your body before you can process his words. He flips you around and slots himself in between your legs—sliding back in deep, grinding into you while folding over so his head is in the crook of your neck. 

“Please,” you whimper. You both know what you’re asking for. But he pulls out, ripping your shirt up and spilling all over your stomach and breasts. It coats you, the liquid hot and he dips his head to watch it coat your body. He lets out a strangled string of curses, bracing himself on the counter as he comes. 

He kisses you. Really kisses you. You grab his face and moan into it. Like you’re willing him to stay there, in between your legs forever. 

But he breaks first, moving to grab a towel out of the cabinet above the toilet. He cleans you up gently, wetting the towel with warm water before it touches your skin. The sentiment could make you cry. 

When he’s done cleaning you up, he kisses your forehead. Joel wraps his arms around you as you sling yours over his shoulders. He holds you there, his hand coming to cup the back of your head, stroking your hair and breathing hot kisses into your crown. You smile, lazily. 

He pulls back just enough to look at you. You know you still look wrecked and are in desperate need of a shower—he looks perfect by contrast, completely untouched and definitely unbothered. 

“Dangerous,” he mutters when you look at him through your lashes. 

You kiss him instead of responding.

You know Joel's right—this is dangerous. 

But it feels way too good to stop. 

_

part iv

taglist! (comment or message me if you would like to be added) kisses to you all:

@nostalxgic @iluvurfather

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 6

Series Masterlist

➪in which you and bradley reach a new point in your...‘relationship’ after your fourth date takes an unexpected turn, and it leaves both of you aching for more.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You were going into your second hour of class when Bradley texted you, and while you would usually remind yourself to get back to him later and focus on taking notes, you put your pen down and pick up your phone instead, hiding it behind your book as you read the text. 

Fratley: What are you doing later tonight?

You glance up at your teacher, and once you were sure he wouldn’t catch onto what you were doing, you quickly text him back. 

Nothing, why? 

Fratley: There’s a new horror movie out. For some reason I have a weird feeling that you’re into those kinds of movies.

You laugh to yourself, making sure Mr. Clarke wasn’t paying attention before replying to him.

I have no idea how you knew I like horror movies, but I’m down. What time?

Fratley: It starts at 7:20. I can pick you up for 7?

Sounds good. 

You were giddy throughout the rest of the class and had barely paid any attention to what Clarke was saying by the time the class ended. 

You got home at around 6, and quickly had a shower before Bradley would be here. The fact that you and he haven’t gone more than a day without seeing each other since you met was making you feel all sorts of things, and all of them were good. You couldn’t believe how much you liked him in such little time. It was almost concerning. 

Sam was still a bit pissed off with you since you officially ended things with her brother, but you knew she would come around sooner or later. You didn’t need to marry Luke to be able to consider her your sister. In all honesty, you never saw yourself marrying Luke in the first place. You were still so young, why were you even thinking about marriage right now?

You push away those thoughts and get ready for the movie, opting to dress in black leggings and a cropped tee. You grabbed your UVA hoodie and draped it over your arm as you ran your fingers through your still damp hair. It would dry on the drive to the movies, and you were lucky enough to be one of those people whose hair didn’t get overly frizzy if you didn’t blow dry it. 

Fratley: I’m here early. I couldn’t help it. 

You smile at your phone and leave your room. Just as you were making your way to the door, your fingers typing out a reply to Bradley, Sam leaves her room and blocks your path. “Jesus,” you laugh as you abruptly stop walking. “I didn’t know you were home.”

Sam crosses her arms and tilts her head. “Where are you going? On another date with your rebound?”

You furrow your brows and put your phone in your pocket. “My rebound?”

“Yeah, that guy you’ve been seeing pretty much every day since that party,” she replied, squinting her eyes at you afterwards. “You know, the party I took you to.”

She was acting hostile again, and you weren’t sure why. This couldn’t be because you and Luke were done and that you were moving on, right? She wasn’t that petty, right? “Oh right,” you play along, crossing your own arms. “The party you ditched me at.”

Sam straightened up at that and her scowl deepened. “I already said I was sorry for that,” she muttered.

“I know, and I’ve already forgiven you, so I’m not sure why you’re bringing it up again,” you huff, annoyed that she was still going on about this when you could be with Bradley right now. 

“Because,” she rolled her eyes. “If you never went to that party, you would’ve never met that Bradshaw guy and you would’ve never broken up with Luke.”

You laugh in disbelief. “Are you serious?” You ask, and when her expression doesn’t change, you stand up straighter. “Well maybe I would’ve met him on campus. We ran into each other the day after out of pure coincidence, I could’ve met him for the first time then. And Luke and I have been broken up. For a while now. I’ve moved on, and so should the both of you.”

Sam opened her mouth to respond, but you were fed up. You pushed past her and grabbed your keys from off the coffee table, glancing back at her as you shoved them into your bag. 

“And for the record, Bradley is not a rebound,” was the last thing you said before opening the door and closing it behind you. You were a bit heated as you stepped outside, but the sight of Bradley leaning against the passenger side door of his Jeep calmed you down a bit. You were a bit breathless as you walked swiftly down the steps and reached him, lifting your hand and setting it on his shoulder. “Hi.”

He smiled down at you, his hands wrapping around your middle and pulling your body right up against his. “Hi,” he said back before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss caught you off guard since it was only the second one you’ve shared with him, but the surprise quickly wore off as you deepened it. Bradley kept his face close to yours when he pulled away and murmured, “I saw that you read my text but you didn’t come out for a while. I got worried.”

His confession had you feeling warm for a completely different reason and you smiled up at him, sliding your hand down and gripping his bicep. “Yeah, sorry,” you trail off, your head a bit fuzzy from the kiss. “I was going to text you back, but Sam, my roommate, decided to start something with me just as I was about to leave.” 

“Ah, the roommate,” he teased, reaching up to run his knuckles along your jaw. “Do I get to meet her soon?”

You laugh and shake your head, glancing behind you at the closed door before turning back to him. “Probably not. She’s my ex’s sister, and she’s a bit more than pissed that her brother and I are done,” you say and Bradley presses his lips together to stifle a laugh. “Might not be the best idea to formally introduce her to my ‘rebound’.” You complete the sentence by lifting your hand and finger quoting ‘rebound’, making Bradley let out a loud laugh as he leans further back against the Jeep. 

“Rebound, huh?” He grunted. “That hurts, babe, it really does.”

You blush and shrug, meeting him halfway when he starts to lean back in for a second time. He kisses you quickly before pushing away from the Jeep and opening the door for you. “Thanks,” you mumble and sit in the passenger seat. “You kept it running?”

“Had to make sure your seat warmer was on,” he simply answered and your blush deepened, but he thankfully closed the door before he could see it. The darkening sky also helped hide it. “Ready to go?” He asked once he was in the driver’s seat, looking over at you with his annoyingly pretty brown eyes. 

“Yeah,” you whisper and put your seatbelt on as he pulls away from the curb. “So what’s this movie about?”

“I don’t know, I think maybe it’s about a nun getting pregnant or something like that,” he answered and you nod with a quiet laugh. 

“Nice choice,” you tease and he glances over at you. 

“Hey, it’s supposed to be one of those scary convent movies. I thought you’d be into that kinda thing,” he smirked and you had to physically restrain yourself from kissing him again. How was he so effortlessly hot?

“Oh, I’m into it,” you hum and take his hand when he holds it out to you. He kept his left one on the steering wheel as you lace your fingers with his, and you tried not to think about just how big his hands are. 

Seriously, Y/n, get a grip here. He’s cute, but he’s just a guy. A very cute guy. A kind guy. A stupidly attractive guy. 

And that’s how you found yourself feeling completely screwed for a second time this week. 

-

Even though it had only been a day, Bradley somehow found himself missing you. 

It was crazy, because he shouldn’t be missing you so soon, but he couldn’t help it. He also couldn’t help the way he kissed you against his Jeep when he picked you up, and he was a bit nervous that you were going to react negatively since you and he weren’t actually official. 

But you kissed him back and he was given the reassurance he needed to go on with this date.

Is this a date? Is this his third date with you? Or maybe fourth if you counted the brief movie night at his place, which he does. 

Four dates in and he hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He’s seen you almost every day this week, and things were going great in his opinion, so why hasn’t he put a label on this yet?

He never took Bri out as often as three times a week in the eleven months he was with her, so maybe she was right about him not putting enough effort in with her, but that clearly changed with you. He didn’t want to be stuck inside anymore when he could instead be somewhere with you. 

Bradley was still feeling a little guilty about allowing her to come over the other night, and that might have partly played into why he kissed you. He knew now that he wanted you, and knew he was going to stop wasting his time pining over a girl who only wanted him for his body and dick. 

You were so different from her.

Bradley parked in the underground parking lot, and the whole drive here he had to pretend he didn’t notice the way you hadn’t pulled your hand out of his the entire time. Backing up with one hand was hard, but he didn’t want to be the first one to pull away. Maybe you were a sucker for physical touch like he was. 

God, he hoped so. 

You argued with him about buying your ticket, then dropped the attitude when he suggested that you pay for the drinks and popcorn. “This actually works out perfectly,” you hum as you take your drink and the tall bag of popcorn. “I paid for the garden, you paid for dinner, and now we’re equally paying for this.”

“I wouldn’t count me paying for dinner as anything,” he laughed as he tossed a bag of candy onto the counter after you had already paid for the drinks and popcorn. “Five Guys is so cheap.”

But you ignored his words as you glared at him, watching with squinted eyes as he pulled out his wallet. “Hey, I was supposed to pay for the snacks,”

Bradley just smirked and grabbed the bag of skittles. “I can’t have you paying for your own candy,” he said simply then laughed when you raised one brow. “Fine, we’ll share it.”

“I’ll pay you back,” you offered but he just shook his head and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, careful not to spill his drink on you. 

“It’s like, four dollars worth of skittles,” he brushed off your words and guided you over to the ticket person, handing the guy both yours and his tickets. “I don’t think it’ll break me.”

“I just feel guilty when people pay for things for me all the time,” you say quietly as the guy pointed in the direction of the theater. 

“Don’t,” he said just as quietly, pulling you along with him. “I don’t mind paying for things, babes. I have enough money to get me by for quite a while.” He didn’t want to go into too much detail of why he had a fair amount of money as he felt like bringing up the whole dead parents thing was a bit of a weird thing to announce before watching a movie that may include people getting brutally murdered. 

You glanced up at him in a way that made you look so innocent, he wanted to kiss you right in the middle of the hall. “I like when you call me that,” you confess and he grins down at you, deciding to actually go for it now.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and he was still smiling when he pulled away. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep calling you it,” he stated, watching as you blushed before ducking into the theater and booking it to your seat, leaving him to laugh as he followed after you. 

Bradley had picked seats that were in the back row since you had told him that you preferred to not have anyone directly behind you, claiming that you’ve had your seat kicked one too many times now. 

The more he found out about you, the more he wanted to know. You had all these cute characteristics and were so incredibly attractive to him, he was sure he would rather spend his time just talking with you than doing anything productive. 

When he sat down next to you, he draped his arm over the back of your chair and leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. He had a feeling that it would make you blush again, and he was right. 

Even in the dark room that was only lit up by the previews on the screen, he could see the way your face tinted with a blush, and the way you squirmed a bit. “You’re driving me crazy,” you whispered as someone came in and sat down a few seats away from you. 

Bradley laughed and dropped the bag of skittles onto your lap, making you jump slightly. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love the way he was able to make you feel all flustered just by doing the smallest of things, like kissing your cheek. “Trust me,” he murmured. “The feeling is mutual.”

When the movie started, Bradley really couldn’t be blamed for not being able to pay much attention to it. He had, what could simply be described as his dream girl, right next to him and he had made you a blushing mess. 

He was a bit annoyed that he hadn’t met you sooner, and he wondered how he had never seen you around campus before until this week. Surely he would’ve remembered you. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the time he spent with Bri felt like a waste now that he knows he could’ve possibly been spending it with you.

Not even twenty minutes had passed since the movie began and Bradley had already lost interest. It seemed like you might have, too, since you had been not so subtly glancing over at him every now and then for the past five minutes. 

The hand of his arm that was draped over your shoulder moved closer to your neck, and soon he was tangling his fingers in your hair. You shifted in your seat slightly, and the next time you looked over at him, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing you. 

You kiss him back almost instantly, as if you had been craving to do it as much as he was. Usually Bradley wasn’t into excessive displays of affection in public, but to be fair it was pretty dark in the theater, and the movie itself took place in a dark convent, so it’s not like anyone could see what you and he were doing. 

And he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself right now. He’s been so into you since that night at the party, he didn’t know what to do with himself. You were giving him the impression that you were into him, too, and that was enough for now, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he wanted more. 

He wanted you.

Bradley reached over with his free hand and gently gripped your jaw, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss that was quickly becoming too heated to be deemed acceptable in a public setting. 

He wanted to take you out of here and back to his house, but he also didn’t want to rush things with you. He wanted to take his time.

Then you grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your thigh before sliding it upwards, and he was prepared to ignore all of that.  

You grab onto his shoulders then slide your hands up until they are tugging at his hair, and he swore he had never felt anything better than that. When you started biting down on his bottom lip, he knew he had to either pull away and keep his hands to himself, or take you right out of this theater before something happened. “Y/n,” he rasped when he pulled back, only able to get out the one word before you were kissing him again. He held onto your forearms and pulled away again after a few more seconds. “Let me take you out of here, baby.”

The look you gave him had him not even caring how desperate he sounded as you bit down on your lip and tugged at his sleeve. “Call me that again,”

Bradley was smirking now as he leaned over until he was well into your personal space. “Come on, baby,” he whispered right next to your ear, “Let’s get out of here.”

The moan you let out after that had his cock twitching with want, and you stood up quickly, grabbing your drink as you made a beeline towards the stairs. Bradley grabbed his own drink and the half eaten bag of popcorn, rolling the edges of it until it was closed, then he was practically running after you. 

When he made it out into the hall, you were already halfway down it, but he was able to quickly catch up to you. He wrapped his arm around your middle and turned your body, leaving a chaste kiss to your mouth before he was guiding you back towards the stairwell that leads to the parking garage. “Should we wait for the elevator?” You asked as he pushed you up against the wall beside it, glancing up to see that the elevator was on the seventh floor.

You began placing kisses to his neck and jaw, and when you poke your tongue out and ran it along the scar on his throat, he huffed through a moan, “No, let’s take the stairs,” 

Then he was pulling the door open and tugging you down the three floors with him, neither of you caring at all about the looks everyone gave you as you finally made it to the garage. Damn near everyone in that movie theater were given a free show of you and him not being able to take your hands off one another, as were the people in the lobby, and it just excited him more because he had never felt this worked up before. And he was just kissing you when it happened. 

“Why did you have to park so far away?” You whined as you tried to keep up with him. “I’m dying here.” 

Bradley let out a deep laugh before stopping abruptly. He turned around and picked you up before you could accidentally run into him, and you squealed when he threw you over his shoulder. “Problem solved,” he grunted as he resumed his fast pace towards the back of the garage. 

“Bradley,” you laughed as you clung onto the back of his shirt. 

“What? You were going too slow,” he smirked as he tightened his grip on the backs of your thighs. He finally made it to his Jeep not long after that, and he set you down and held your body close to his with one hand while he unlocked it with the other. 

It was considered a miracle that he was somehow able to not spill his drink on you with just how handsy he was being. He tossed the bag of popcorn onto the passenger seat next to your hoodie then grabbed your drink and set both yours and his safely in the cupholders, turning to you with a smirk now that his hands were free. 

Bradley grabbed hold of your waist and pulled your body close to his, connecting your lips in a deep kiss as he pressed you against the back door. His tongue slipped into your mouth and brushed against yours, and the strained moan you released had him bucking his hips. A string of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled away and murmured, “Come on,” 

He got up onto the driver’s seat and pushed it all the way back before holding his hand out to you. He helps you up and slams the door once you are settled on his lap, then his lips are against yours again. Your hands tangle in his hair as his grip your waist, tugging your body so your chest is right up against his. 

“The things you do to me,” he mumbled when you pulled away and began placing open mouthed kisses to his jaw and neck, focusing on the spot where the hickey Bri gave him was beginning to fade. “It’s not right, the way you make me feel.”

Your laugh against his neck had him grinning as he closed his eyes and leaned back. “How do I make you feel?” You asked, removing one hand from his hair and tracing the tip of your index finger along the scars on his cheek. “Do I make you feel excited? Overwhelmed? Maybe a bit nervous but in the best way? Because that’s how you make me feel, all the time.”

You whispered those last three words directly into his ear and Bradley groaned loudly. “Yeah,” he breathed out, guiding your body into a slow roll against his. “That’s exactly it.”

“Oh, God,” you moaned and it was probably the prettiest sound Bradley had ever heard in his life. Your hands find his shoulders again and twist his shirt as you take it upon yourself to grind your hips against his, tilting your head back and exposing your neck to him. 

Bradley’s eyes dropped down to your throat, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to your soft skin. The feeling of your covered core rubbing against him was surreal and he felt himself getting more worked up. He wasn’t even properly feeling you, wasn’t even inside you and he still felt so fucking good. 

When he pulled away from your neck, his eyes darkened at the hickey he left that surely would be hard to cover up later, but luckily it was the weekend. Though he didn’t really care much. He secretly wanted the other guys on campus to see it.

Each drag of your core had you moaning louder and louder, and Bradley wanted to make you feel like this all the time. “Feel good, baby?” He asked in a teasing tone, smirking at the whine you let out as you nod. 

“Yes,” you whisper, leaning in to press your forehead against his. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you parked far away.”

A blush took over your face and it sounded like you were forcing yourself to be quieter, and Bradley didn’t like that. “I don’t care if someone hears us,” he rasped, bending one of his knees and grasping your hips tightly. You moan at his words, then moan even louder when he takes full control and bucks up against you. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, clinging onto his shoulders. 

Bradley had never done anything like this in public before, but he knew he couldn’t wait until he got you back home. He also didn’t want your first time together to be in the front seat of his Jeep as he thought you deserved something a bit more romantic than that, so it was kind of good that this was an on top of the clothes type of thing. 

“You’re so pretty,” he groaned as you met his thrusts halfway. “Way too fucking pretty for me.”

You grip his jaw and press a searing kiss to his mouth, the back of his throat silencing your cries of pleasure as you get yourself off on top of him. “Bradley,” you moaned his name and he had to physically hold back a surprise release at just how hot you sounded. “I like you so much, it’s almost pathetic.”

How sweet you sounded when you were insulting yourself. “I like you, too,” he said back, kissing up the side of your neck until his lips met the skin below your ear. “Ever since that night at the party. I thought you looked so fucking good standing in my dining room.”

You bite your lip and dig your nails into his shoulders. “You saved me from being by myself that night,” you struggled to say as you quickened the grind of your hips. “I was ditched just minutes before you came up to me.”

Bradley still had no clue why Sam ditched you, then he remembered that she is related to your piece of shit ex, and it suddenly made sense. He thought back to that awful text Luke sent you when you had fallen asleep during your movie night, and he was appalled that he had the nerve to talk to you like that.

But he could get annoyed with your ex another time, not when you were currently rocking your hips into his and kissing along his nearly healed scars. “You’re gonna make me come,” you warned in a tone that should not have sounded so innocent given the circumstances. 

“Yeah?” He grunted, also feeling himself get close. “You’re going to make me come, too.” 

You grin down at him and kiss his lips as you give a few more rolls of your hips before you tense up against him and release a string of loud, whiny moans. “Fuck,” you stuttered above him, twisting his hair in between your fingers as you came. 

As you were coming down, you never stopped rubbing yourself against him, and not long after Bradley was coming, too. He dropped his head onto your shoulder as he let out deep and breathy groans, feeling his release coat himself in his boxers and jeans. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered as you finally stopped and let out a small laugh. 

Your hands trailed through his hair as you both tried to regain control over your breathing. “Did you..” you trailed off as if you were embarrassed to ask him if he came or not. 

It was almost comical since you had just given him what he thinks was the best orgasm of his life, and he never once penetrated you. All his past times with Bri felt like a bit of a joke now that he knew how good you felt, even fully clothed. “Yeah,” he answered, watching as a proud smile formed on your lips. Bradley leaned in and pressed a much more gentle kiss to your mouth, his hands coming up to smooth out your hair. “Sorry we didn’t get to watch much of the movie.”

Then it dawned on him that you and he left not even halfway through a movie about nuns and celibacy to go hook up in his car, and he had to hold back a laugh of disbelief. 

You huffed as you shook your head, laughing afterwards. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really paying much attention to it anyway,” 

“Me either,” he replied and you laughed again, hesitantly moving off him and crawling over to the passenger seat. 

Bradley watched your every move, and when your eyes trailed down to his lap, you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry,” you gasp, making him furrow his brows in confusion before he looked down and noticed the wet spot on his thigh. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he waved you off, not caring a single bit at the dampness on his jeans, but you seemed to be mortified. 

“I’m embarrassed now,” you murmur and cover your face. 

“Don’t be,” he said again, reaching over and taking your wrist in his hand. “I mean it. That was so fucking hot, and I already couldn’t stop thinking about you before. This definitely won’t help.”

That seemed to make you feel a little better as you slumped against the seat and gazed over at him. “I don’t want this night to end yet,” you confessed quietly. 

Bradley slid his hand along your arm until his fingers were laced with yours. “I don’t, either,” he mumbled. “It’s still early. Why don’t we just sit here and talk?” His offer reminded him of the conversation he had with you that night Bri came over and nearly ruined his whole day. Then you called him and made things better, and he found out just how much he likes talking to you - though it was pretty obvious before. 

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling over at him as you got into a more comfortable position, still keeping your hand locked with his. “Let’s play that question game again.”

“Okay,” he laughed, leaning back as well. “What’s your favorite holiday?”

“I love Christmas,” you answer. “It’s like the one time my family actually puts in an effort to spend time together.”

Funnily enough, that was one of the reasons Bradley didn’t like Christmas. He didn’t have a whole lot of family left, and the one person who was a constant in his life wasn’t a big fan of the holiday either. “You guys aren’t close?” He asked and you shook your head. 

“Not really. My parents and I are close, but my sister and I haven’t really talked much since I came here,” you shrug and look over at him. “What about you? Does your family go all out for Christmas? Or is it a once a year type thing like mine?”

Bradley smiled and looked down at your joined hands. “I don’t really celebrate Christmas that much anymore,” he murmured, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “I loved it as a kid, but now it just feels like a memory.”

Your face scrunches up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Oh, God, was he really about to willingly have the dead parents conversation right now? Right after you and he just got each other off in a fucking parking garage? “Um,” he trailed off, looking at the various cars around. “Well…I don’t really have anyone to celebrate it with.”

He looked back over at you when you sat up and gave him your full attention, and he knew there really was no reason why he couldn’t just get this topic over with. 

“My dad, he…died when I was really young, so I don’t really remember much of him,” he mumbled, feeling the way your grip on his hand tightened just slightly. He brought it up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before continuing, “And my mom died when I was still in high school, so the only person I really have is my uncle, and even he is hardly around anymore.”

There it was. His depressing as fuck backstory. 

“Bradley,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what to say.”

He shook his head and gave you a small smile, reaching over with his free hand and running his fingers along your jaw. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,”

You frown and press the back of his hand against your cheek. “I’m sorry,” you whisper and he shakes his head again. 

“It’s okay, really,” he brushed off your words. “I can talk about this stuff more now without getting too upset. I mean, there’s nothing I can do about it, so that kinda makes it easier to talk about it.”

You nod and kiss along his knuckles. “Hey, I never did ask about what you wanted to do once you graduate,”

“Join the Navy,” he answered as if it was the easiest question he’d ever been asked. “Like my old man.”

“The Navy?” You echoed and sat up. “What, like, the Marines?” 

“No, the Air Force,”

Your eyes widened at that, “You want to fly planes? Like, aviation?”

“Well, fighter jets,” he corrected with a laugh. “But yeah, I wanna fly planes.”

“Wow,” you trailed off, looking out the front window for a few seconds before glancing at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “What do you want your call sign to be, flyboy?” 

He grinned and shrugged. “I don’t really know. Maybe some kind of bird like my dad,”

“What was your dad called?”

For some reason you were super interested in his life, and he actually appreciated it more than he thought he would. “His call sign was Goose,”

“Goose,” you repeated the name with a small smile. “You should be…Duck. Your call sign should be Duck.”

“Duck?” He laughed and shook his head. “No, absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on, that’s a good one,” you laughed, too, somehow able to effortlessly turn a dark and depressing conversation into a much lighter one. “Fine. How ‘bout…Rooster.”

That one actually didn’t sound too bad, and it had the double ‘o’ like Goose. “Rooster,” he tried it out for himself. “Okay, that’s not terrible.”

“It’s settled then,” you state and lean back. “Your call sign will be Rooster.”

Bradley watched as you kissed the back of his hand before pulling yours out of it in order to open the popcorn bag. He was glad you knew about his parents now, as he wasn’t sure how awkward it would be to bring up later.

“What is your favorite holiday?” You asked as you dug around in the bag. 

“Um, Halloween,” he replied and opened his mouth when you held a few pieces of popcorn up to his lips. “What was one subject in school that you just…fucking hated?” 

You laugh and set the bag in between the two of you. “I was really bad at science subjects,” you mumble. “Like, really bad. I passed Chemistry with a 52.”

Bradley tried to hold back a laugh and brought his drink up to his mouth. “Well, Chemistry is pretty hard,” he offered, then couldn’t help but say, “But yeah, a 52 is pretty bad.”

You glare over at him but the smile on your lips told him that he didn’t offend you. “I’m aware,”

When Bradley was forced to drive you back to your place a little while later, he kept his hand on your thigh the whole time. He wasn’t kidding. He couldn’t stop thinking about you before he got you off in his front seat, and it would only be harder to after this. 

“You know, we need to stop having so much fun every time we see each other,” you mumbled once he parked outside your dorm. “Sooner or later I’ll start expecting it.”

“What, having fun with me?” He teased, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Trust me, babes, you’ll have fun all the time as long as you’re with me.”

You grin over at him, “I’ll hold you to that,”

Then you were leaning over the center console and pressing a deep kiss to his mouth. One that had him shamelessly groaning and wishing that you would invite him in with you, but he was also trying to remind himself that he wanted to take his time with you and not rush into things. “Have a good weekend,” he muttered when he pulled away. “I’ll be thinking about you nonstop, I’m sure.”

You blush and reach for the door handle. “The feeling is mutual,” you whisper, then get out of the car and make your way inside, leaving Bradley to wait until he felt like he had enough control over himself to be able to drive back to his place.

[krisdreaming]

Home

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader (reader is "Mommy")

Summary: Tetsurou is away on a business trip, and it hasn't been easy for you or your daughter.

WC: 824

A/N: Can I write about someone other than Kuroo? Yes. Will I? No.

It's the evening of the fourth day of Tetsurou's trip, and secretly, you're glad that it's bedtime. You hadn't anticipated how difficult it would be without him around, but you and your daughter are both feeling his absence. She's been especially moody, and you've been struggling to keep things running smoothly on your own. Her nightly bedtime story is just one more thing that your husband would normally take care of.

"Mommy," She breaks in when you pause to turn a page, "When is Daddy coming home?"

You bite back a sigh. This must be the fifth time she's asked since you picked her up from preschool this afternoon. "In two days, honey," You remind her again. "Not tomorrow, but the next day. Okay?"

She nods slowly. "Daddy does the voices better than you do." This time, the sigh slips out. There's nothing like the brutal honesty of a four-and-a-half year old to put you firmly in your place.

"Well," You try to keep your voice level, "Do you want me to finish, or are you ready to go to sleep?"

She hunkers back against her pillows meekly. "You can finish," She concedes quietly.

"Okay," You give your head a small shake. It is a little difficult to give your all to the story, because you know that as soon as it's over, you'll be tucking your daughter in bed, and you'll finally have a little time to yourself.

Finally, you close the book. "Alright. Time for bed," You say, pulling the covers more snugly beneath her chin.

She gives you a sleepy smile. "Night, Mommy."

"Good night. I love you, Baby," You say softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Love you too, Mommy." She echoes sweetly. You can't help but smile, cupping her cheek in your fingers for a few moments. She may be a handful at times, but she's your handful.

"Sleep tight," You say as you get up, leaving her room and leaving the door cracked open.

In the kitchen, you fill the kettle, then sink down into a chair with a sigh. You'll have a cup of tea to help you unwind, read a chapter or two of your book, and then head to bed yourself. Tomorrow, you'll be getting up and doing it all over again.

You're just pouring the hot water over the tea bag when you think you hear the doorknob of the front door jiggle. Your eyes dart in that direction nervously, and your heart is suddenly in your throat. This is just another reason you've been on edge without Tetsurou here. Every strange sound makes you jump.

When you hear the door open, you still, instantly assessing just what you should do in a situation like this. You've just about made up your mind to reach for the rolling pin when a familiar messy head of hair pops into the kitchen.

"Tetsu!" You're instantly across the room and throwing your arms around his neck, sagging against him in relief. "I wasn't expecting you home tonight," You breathe out shakily, half reprimanding.

"Sorry," He laughs into your hair, "We finished early. I got the soonest plane I could. I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, it worked," You can laugh now that the terror is wearing off. You lean up and press a kiss to his lips. "Missed you," You murmur, letting him press back into a longer kiss.

"I missed you too," He finally pulls away to reply. The moment is interrupted by a shuffling sound behind you.

"Daddy?" Comes your daughter's bleary voice, then again, "Daddy!" When she finally catches sight of him, darting across the kitchen and into his arms.

"Hi, Pumpkin," He presses a kiss to her cheek. "Ooh, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Daddy!" She says breathlessly. "Mommy doesn't do the voices like you do," She pouts.

He chuckles. "Doesn't she?" He shoots you a glance over her head. "I think Mommy's great at reading your stories."

"Not as great as you," She insists. He gives an almost imperceptible shrug in your direction, and you press your hand over your heart in mock betrayal. Even that doesn't sting as much now that he's back home.

"Alright. Well, what do you say we get you back to bed? I'll read your story tomorrow night," He promises, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Okay," She agrees, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'll put her back to bed," He says in a low voice. "Just relax, okay? Finish your tea," He gestures to the still-steeping tea you'd just poured. "And after that, I'll have you all to myself." He shoots you a grin that, after all this time, still makes you feel a little weak to the knees.

"Can't argue with that," You reply softly. You can't keep the smile from your face as you watch him carry your half-asleep daughter back to bed. You know without a doubt that you wouldn't trade this for the world.

[beezlub]

Daffodils & Dragons || Draco M. x F! H! Reader

synopsis; studying for the NEWTs, time had caught you and you had completely forgotten about the yule ball. finding yourself at a gryffindor party a few days before, your short friendship with draco starts to unravel, leading you to a side of him you’ve never seen.

a/n; teehee. this is. long. it was a very self indulgent fic, as a plus size reader/writer who has a very soft spot for draco, i just wanted to write for him 🫶 also this is my first time writing smut, please be nice

story notes; SMUT (MINORS DNI), plot with porn, alcohol, p in v (wrap it before you tap it, PLEASE), mattheo is kinda an asshole and does mean things to (y/n), self-conscious thoughts abt self, romance, angst at the end BUT THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING

tw; sexual assault, potion misuse, alcohol spiking. please lmk if there’s something i’m missing!!

wc; 13.2k. i got carried away whoopsies

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The NEWTs were known to be the worst exams you could ever take at Hogwarts, hence their full name; nastily exhausting wizarding tests. For the first half of the year, it had been filled with studying, attending tutoring sessions by my professors, and more studying. Exhausting, truly. I knew I didn’t need to push myself so hard, but I was trying so hard to follow in my parents footsteps, to become a potioneer.

I'd grown up around them explaining and showing me the processes of potion making, and it occupied a good portion of my mind for most of my childhood. A NEWT in the subject would mean the world to me, and hence the studying was needed.

“(Y/n), dearie, you need to get your head out of that book and get some air,” a voice said from behind me, and I noticed it was hannah.

“I’m quite alright, thank you though Han,” I said, quietly resuming the notes I'd been taking. I still had a few hours left until dinner, and I was keen on studying until then.

“(Y/n), please love. Take a break. You’ve been in your notes all semester. It’s a wonder how you aren’t burnt out yet," Hannah said, sliding into the chair next to me as she grabbed my hand, pulling my attention away again. “Join me tonight; there’s a party I want to go to, and I know you aren’t keen on them, but I think it’ll do you good. You haven’t been to a party since your fourth year. You need to relax,” she begged, her eyes silently pleading for me to go.

“Hannah, you? A party? What happened to miss prefect,” I said, giggling as I shut the book in front of me.

“I know, I know. It’s just…” she trailed off, her cheeks gaining a pink hue to them, and I immediately knew what she was getting at.

“I get it. Longbottom will be there, won’t he?” I teased, enjoying the way her cheeks flared, her eyes avoiding mine as she nodded. I let out a laugh, gathering the notes and pens I had scattered around the table. “Fine, I'll be your wingwoman. But for this, you owe me a butterbeer next time we go to Hogsmeade!” I mused, putting the materials in a neat pile as I heard Hannah cheer.

“Oh, thank you (Y/n)! Thank you! C’mon, we’ve got to get you out of these robes, and I need to do my hair!” She said, happiness apparent in her voice as she pulled me from my chair and out of the library, my books in my arms as she dragged me all the way to the Hufflepuff dorms, ignoring the stares we received, and into our shared room.

Placing my books on my desk, I took off my robe and draped it over the bed, leaving me in my uniform. Undoing my hair from the loosened braid, I let it fall over my shoulders as I sat on my bed, watching Hannah dig through the trunk at the end of hers.

“I don’t even know what to wear. I didn’t think this far ahead. I'm so nervous (Y/n), what if he doesn’t even notice me!” Hannah said, picking out a few dresses she had stored and throwing them over her bed. A dark red one caught my eye, and I quirked an eyebrow.

“Han, that one,” I pointed to the red one, watching as her face darkened again.

“(Y/n/n), that one…it’s too revealing!” She squeaked, getting off her knees as she picked it up, holding it to her frame. “It’d show…everything!”

“Isn’t that what you want? Neville will definitely notice you then,” I smirked, watching as her eyes widened with realization.

“Merlin, (Y/n). Find something and change, I'll be right back,” she said, skipping into the bathroom with the red dress as I let out a giggle. “Oh, Hannah,” I said, shaking my head as I left the plush surface of my bed and dug through my own trunk. Throwing out a few options, I sighed, wondering if I even had a dress that would be good enough for a Gryffindor party, though I thought it was odd they were throwing one on a Thursday.

“Hannah, can I rummage through your trunk?” I shouted, hoping she could hear me through the door.

“Do you not have a dress, (Y/n)? I thought you had that sparkly green one?” She shouted back, and I turned my eyes back to my trunk, digging through it until I found what she was talking about. It was a dress I had bought a few years ago to attend a Slytherin party, but never ended up wearing or even attending, due to not wanting to be tormented by Draco or his goons. Standing up, I held the dress to my body, watching as the dark green fabric sparkled in the dormitory light. Shrugging, I figured this was as good as it was going to get, and stripped off my uniform and tights before unclasping my bra and pulling the dress over my head. My figure had definitely filled out since I had bought the dress; it bunched up around my hips, and the low chest line left little to imagine as it pushed my chest up slightly. The dress ended mid thigh, and the sleeves were a sheer dark green that fell off my shoulders. I'd be lying if I said I didn’t feel sexy in this dress, and I ran my hands over myself, feeling the pudginess of my tummy. Turning around, I eyed the low cut in the back, wary of how it almost showed off my ass, but other than that it was perfect. Running a hand through my hair, I enjoyed the waves in the length from the hairstyle it had been in all day.

“Han, can I borrow some of your makeup?” I asked, looking at her as she exited the bathroom. The red dress hugged her figure tight, accentuating her hips and showed off more of her thighs than I could ever think of. “Wow…Han…you look stunning,” I said, shaking myself from my best friend's beauty as she laughed.

“I could say the same about you, dearie. You look hot!” She grabbed my hand and spun me, a laugh ripping its way from my throat. “I'll do your makeup, sit on my bed!”

Listening to her, I took place on her bed, sure to not let the material around my thighs ride up as I heard her murmur a spell, her wand directly in my face as I felt a cool breeze against it. “All done!” She sang, hopping up from the bed to slip on some black kitten heels and I rolled my eyes.

“I thought you were against using magic for makeup?” I asked, making my way back over to the mirror to see what she had done.

“I am, for the most part, but tonight calls for a special occasion.”

Looking in the mirror, I brought a hand up to my face, careful to not smudge the makeup on my face. The blemishes on my face were covered, the blush on my face making me look flushed constantly. There was a shimmery eyeshadow on my lids, along with a fine flick of eyeliner and mascara. Tinted gloss was on my lips, and I felt prettier than ever. “Thank you, I look so pretty!” I beamed, turning around at Hannah who had a smile on her face.

“You always look pretty, now grab some shoes! The party has already started!”

"What?!"

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The music boomed in my ears as Hannah dragged me into the Gryffindor common room. I could already smell the booze in the air, and everybody was tightly together. My eyes wandered, and I saw a pair of hands on a girl's hips, dragging her ass into the male's crotch, and I inwardly cringed. If I had known this was how the party was going to be, I would've contemplated a bit more on coming, or wearing something different.

"I'm going to go get something to drink, Han. go find Neville," I said, removing my hand from hers as she nodded, and in an instant, her body was lost in the sea of seventh years. Shaking my head, I maneuvered to the side of the room, my eyes landing on a bottle of sherry and my heart eased its panic. Grabbing a cup, I poured the liquid in, but just as I was about to grab a mixer for it, a pair of hands slithered onto my hips.

"(Y/n), you look stunning tonight," the voice whispered in my ear, barely audible over the music, and the smell of firewhiskey invaded my senses. Turning around, I was met with Mattheo, a fellow seventh year who I had a few classes with over the last few years.

"Hi to you too, Mattheo," I said, giving him a polite smile as I tried to turn my attention back to the alcohol in my hands.

"Whadda shame," he slurred, his hand gripping my hips even tighter as he leaned in closer, "I woulda loved to take you out, now that I know what would be under that dress of yours," his hands ran up and down my sides, an unwelcome shiver running down my spine. Mattheo was far past drunk, and while I couldn't excuse his actions, the better part of me knew I needed to get him away from the alcohol.

"Matt, c'mon," I said, placing my cup down on the table behind me as I grabbed his sleeve, tugging him towards an empty loveseat in the corner. His frame towered above me as we made our way over, the music growing quieter as we moved away from the speakers. Gesturing for him to sit down, I ran a hand over the butt of my dress before sitting, cursing the way it slid up anyways.

"Y'so pretty, y'know that (Y/n/n)? I always thought you were pretty." He said after a few moments, his head lifting up from where it was resting against the back of the couch. I blushed at his words, hoping it wasn't visible in the dim lights.

"You're drunk, mattheo, you don't mean that." I said, pulling my gaze away from his face and scanning the crowd. I could see Hannah grinding against Neville, a drink in both their hands as they laughed, and my heart felt heavy again. Hannah was so pretty, her hair falling over her shoulders as she danced with neville. Her dress hugged her in all the right spots, the red complimenting her skin. If she hadn't been sorted into Hufflepuff, Gryffindor would've been my next guess, solely because of the color with her skin. The thoughts gnawed at my mind for a few more songs, constantly comparing myself with the other girls I knew, and how drastically different I looked than them.

As the next song played, a warm and calloused hand gripped the bare skin on my thigh, slowly working its way up. I didn't need to turn to know who it was; Mattheo. My skin froze, and I could hear my heart in my ears.

"Bet if I reached up a little more, I could feel how wet you are, baby," he slurred in my ear, his other hand coming to grip my face as he slammed his lips against mine. A muffled yelp escaped my lips from the contact, and I could feel his fingers against my pantyline. Panic flooded my system, and I pushed myself away from him, attempting to get up from the couch before he pulled me into his lap.

"No, no, (Y/n). I know you want me just as much as I want you, baby." Mattheo's hand clawed at my chest, groping one of my breasts as the other one kneaded my ass. It wasn't pleasurable; it was the opposite. I hated it, I wanted his hands off me, I wanted to burn this dress and my skin.

“Hey, mate. What's the big idea?” A voice said from behind me, and it was that moment that I realized I had been crying. Cedric stood behind me, his arms crossed against his chest before reaching out for me, pulling me up from Mattheo.

“Cedric,” I whimpered softly, feeling one of his hands rub my arm as he continued to glare at Mattheo, who had thrown his arms up in defense, and the smirk on his face made me want to puke.

“She wanted it, man. I could feel how wet she was under that slutty dress," Mattheo started before he was met with a punch to his face. The people around us had started to stare, and I could feel myself shrinking into Cedric's arm, trying to hide from them.

“Don’t ever say that about her, or another girl for that matter, Riddle,” Cedric spat, turning us around to make way to the other side of the room. “Are you okay, love?” He asked, his hand rubbing my arm once more as I pulled my dress down more. I couldn’t do anything but nod, trying to stop the tears falling from my eyes as we sat down with some other Hufflepuffs who had taken residence at one of the tables.

“(Y/n)? oh my god, love. what happened?” I heard Hannah behind me, and I turned around to face her, watching as she left Neville's arm and rushed over to me, cupping my face in her hands as she brushed stray tears away from my face.

“Riddle is what happened. I saw his hand up her dress when I went to get another drink, so I went to get her. Ended up decking the fucker in the face,” Cedric said, rubbing his knuckles as Hannah continued to comfort me.

“I-I think I might just go back to our dorm, Han.” I said quietly, holding one of her hands as she nodded. “I'll come and walk you back,” she got up, and I shook my head. “I don’t want to ruin your night, you stay here with Nev and the others. I'll be fine,” I said, lifting myself out of the chair.

“(Y/n), I’m not comfortable with you walking around the school after this. Somebody needs to walk with you,” she stated before a cough behind us distracted us.

“I'll walk her; I'm leaving anyway,” Draco said, his eyes shifting between the two of us. His sleeves of his black dress shirt were pushed to his elbows, his usually neat hair tousled as his eyes landed on mine. He looked like he had been in a fight too, but then I noticed his knuckles were bright red, just like Cedric's, confirming my suspicion. I wouldn’t put it past Malfoy to do something, on tonight of all nights too.

“Fine, but if I hear one thing from her, your ass is mine, got that Malfoy?” Hannah said, her hands resting on her hips as he nodded. “Noted; let’s get you back to your dorm, (Y/n),” Draco said, moving out of the way so I could leave the table. A shiver ran down my spine from him calling me by my first name; usually it was (L/n), or mudblood. First name basis was reserved for people close to him.

The walk to the Hufflepuff entrance was quiet, not many students to be seen. It was well past midnight at this point, and I cursed myself inwardly for letting time slip so fast. Thank Godric there were no prefects out at the moment though.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked, breaking the silence as he fell into step beside me. Looking up at him, I could see the concern written on his face, but he didn’t dare touch me.

“I think I'm alright. I’ll be fine, anyhow,” I started, unsure of what else to say as I wrapped my arms around myself, the late fall air cold, even inside the building.

“Here,” Draco held out a jacket, one I was unaware he was even holding, and I shook my head.

“It wouldn't fit, but thank you anyways,” I gave him a sad smile, brushing some stray strands of hair out of my face.

“Merlin, you’re stubborn,” Draco groaned before setting the jacket over my shoulders. It was warm from being in his arms, and smelled like musk and apples.

“I…thank you,” I muttered, grasping the edges of it gently as it fell quiet again. Soon enough, we reached the Hufflepuff entrance; its giant oak doors were daunting to me as I tried not to let the events of the last few hours crash down on me in front of Draco.

“Do you need me to go in with you?” He asked, noticing the worry on my face as his hands shifted a bit, almost as if he did want to help me.

“Oh-um. No, thank you,” I squeaked out, embarrassed that he saw the worry on my face, “here, thank you again,” I said, shuffling off the jacket as I placed it back into his arms, the brush of my fingers against his arms electrifying.

“Of course. i’ll see you in potions tomorrow,” he said, turning around, leaving me in the hall with a pale blush on my face, not one caused by makeup.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The blaring of my alarm woke me up with a jolt, and I couldn’t help but groan, throwing a pillow over my head as I tried to drown the noise out. Just because I was in the sweetest house of them all didn’t mean I couldn’t be a bitch without sleep.

“Godric's sake, (Y/n) turn that blasted thing off. I have a bad enough headache as it is," Hannah groaned, throwing one of her pillows at me as I reached for the alarm on my bedside table, smacking around a bit until I hit the button, silence once again obtained. Pushing myself up, I blinked a few times, trying to figure out the mess that was on the floor. Clothes were scattered everywhere, a wand on top of everything. Shoes weren’t neatly put away under the beds, and a pile of clothing I didn’t recognise was on top of Hannah's trunk. The green dress I had on last night was draped neatly around one of the posters on my bed, and it took a few moments for a few things to click. One was that Neville was sleeping soundly on the other side of Hannah, hence the pile of clothes I didn’t recognise. Two, was that Draco was oddly nice to me last night after everything that had happened, and that if my speculations were right, he also got a few punches in at Mattheo.

“Hannah, c’mon. you’ve got to get up,” I said, throwing off the warm blankets as my feet met the cold stone on the ground.

“Not going to classes…Too hungover…” she moaned from under her blankets, and I stifled a laugh as I stripped out of my sleepwear and into my uniform.

“Snape will be mad at you, you know that right?” I asked, tightening the tie around my neck before leaning over to place the school loafers on my feet.

“Don’t care,” she replied before a heavy snore echoed through the room. Oh Neville.

“I'll miss you; make sure you use a condom,” I snickered as I grabbed my bag and robe, leaving the room before another object could be thrown at my head.

Settling down at the Hufflepuff table, I grabbed the notes out of my bag before filling my plate with the breakfast goods. I could feel eyes burning into the back of my head, but I opted to ignore it as I smiled at Cedric, who had just joined the table as well.

“Morning, (Y/n). how’d you sleep?” He laughed, ruffling my hair as I scoffed, threading a few fingers through my hair to undo the mess he had just made.

“Just fine, thank you.” I mumbled, rolling my eyes with a smile as I flipped open the notebook in front of me, ignoring that Cedric had stolen a sausage link off my plate. “Any more of you got laid last night?” I asked, enjoying the uproar of laughter that echoed out.

“Cedric got close with Cho, if I recall correctly,” Abby said, nudging him in the side as Ethan tossed a crumpled up straw wrapper at him from across the table.

“I probably would’ve, if you two hadn’t interrupted the game!” He laughed, which made me look up from my notes.

“There was a game?” I asked, looking around at my friends.

“Yeah, Ron started a game of spin the bottle, the one muggle game, but Pansy added on seven minutes in heaven. It was wonderfully funny.” Ethan cackled before shoveling eggs into his mouth.

“Oh…sounds lovely.” I mused, shaking my head as I turned back towards my notes.

“Malfoy wouldn’t play after he returned though. He looked seriously shaken yet deeply in love," Abby commented, Cedric nodding in agreement as he continued to eat off my plate.

“Wait…Draco came back? He said he was going to his dorm after he walked me back.” The confusion must’ve been written clearly across my face, as everyone fell silent.

“He..he did come back. But didn’t do anything but pour a cup or five of firewhiskey for himself,” Ethan shrugged, looking around the group. “What? She asked, and I told. Pansy threw a nasty fit when her spin landed on him, and he refused to kiss her for the bare minimum.”

“It's fine, guys, I swear. I just didn’t know, that’s all,” I said, shutting my notebook and giving a fake smile before I took a sip of the orange juice in front of me. The bell rang a few moments later, and we all said our goodbyes as we headed our separate ways. I usually had Hannah alongside me while we made our way to potions, but because of her ‘hangover’, she wasn’t here, and I felt extremely anxious. Another set of feet were following close behind me, and it made my pace pick up as I clutched my bag tighter in my arms, but their pace increased too. The anxiety inside me was skyrocketing as I reached the door of the potions room, and I flung it open, rushing to my usual seat. I didn’t want to see who was behind me, I didn’t want to know if it was some poor student trying to catch up to me, or if it was Mattheo trying to make another move. Settling down, I took a few deep breaths to try and calm down as other students filled the room. Hearing the chair scrape on the floor next to me, I pulled my gaze from my lap to see Draco sitting next to me, an irritated look on his face as he slouched back, his gaze on the board at the front of the class. I guess he noticed me looking at him, and he turned to me with a scoff.

“What? Something on my face, (Y/n)?” He asked, his word choice not matching up with his tone. “You’re a bloody fast walker, by the way. Practically running down the hall, you git.”

I blushed, turning away from him as I dug my notes out of my bag, watching as Snape scribbled something on the board. “I didn’t know it was you following me. I thought it was…” I trailed off, not wanting to recall the memories from last night.

“He won't be bothering you, love,” Draco said before shutting up. Besides being one of Snape's top students, it didn’t stop the glares from the professor to get him to shut up.

“If the class would like to start, we will be going over Amortentia today. You will be expected to make a decent potion of it by the end of class and have a three page essay over its components and your results by next Monday,” Snape said, my eyes drifting over the ingredients laid out on the table in front of us. I could hear the groans emitting from the students around me; an essay over the weekend wasn’t something anyone wanted.

“You will be partnered up with your desk mate today; given the…amount of students missing,” Snape continued, my head snapping up. Oh Godric. Hannah was usually my desk mate, the spot now taken by Draco. Not that he was a bad potions partner per se, probably the best in the class actually, give or take me. But we walked a line I didn’t know existed until a few months ago, when the term started. Always on the receiving end of his taunts, the boy’s words stopped carrying the sting they did from the first few years of school. Now, they stopped all together, and he was…friendly. In a Draco way. It was confusing, especially after yesterday’s events.

“Right, I muttered to myself, following the instructions I had written down in my notes, distracting myself from my previous thoughts as I poured my attention into the cauldron in front of me. I didn’t notice the way Draco was watching me, his gaze scanning my face, noticing the way my brows furrowed in concentration and how I stuck out my tongue as I bruised the peppermint heads with the mortar and sprinkled them into the potion, then dropped the whole leaves in. He continued to watch as I dropped in the powdered moonstone, stirring three times and seeing the way my eyes sparkled over the golden cauldron.

Scribbling down notes quickly for the essay, I turned to look at Draco, quirking a brow at his unlit cauldron.

“Aren’t you going to start?” I asked, dropping a handful of rose thorns into the pot before I covered the top with a silk cloth.

“We’re partners, if you didn’t hear Snape correctly. We were supposed to be doing this together,” his eyes glanced over the covered cloth, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Oh, shit,” I clamped a hand over my mouth, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I'm so sorry, Draco. I got carried away,” I moaned, hiding my face behind my hands as I rested my elbows on the table. He laughed from beside me, a delightful sound to my ears as I peeked between my fingers.

“S’alright, (Y/n). Less work for me. I guess to pay you back for doing the hard work, I'll tackle the essay for you.” A hand found its way to my shoulder, and I jumped in surprise before it retracted immediately. “Sorry,” Draco mumbled, and I removed my hands from my face, watching him stare at his own notes with a slight pink tinge to both our cheeks.

“S’okay, Dray,” I said, the nickname rolling off my tongue as I lifted the silk. “Looks like it’s done, yeah?” I asked, looking at the pearlescent color swirling around.

“It does. Let me take a whiff," Draco said, grabbing the other side of the silk as he lifted it off. I watched as his head went closer to the pot, his eyes closing as he inhaled the scent.

“What does it smell like?” I asked as he pulled away, watching as he took his sweet time to exhale the breath he was holding.

“It smells like..amber and vanilla. and a hint of cinnamon,” he finally said, and I scribbled it down. My chest felt heavy at the description, but for what, I couldn’t pin. Was I upset that draco didn’t smell me? Was I happy that he didn’t? I didn’t know.

“Your turn,” Draco said to me as he finished writing his findings, and I gave a curt nod, brushing back a strand of hair so it didn’t dip in the potion as I leaned forward. My senses were flooded with the smell of apples, sandalwood, musk, and a hint of peppermint.

“What does it smell like?” Draco asked as I removed my face from the potion, pulling my hand down to let my hair fall back down.

“It smells like apples, sandalwood, and peppermint,” I said, grabbing my quill again as the bell rang for class change. I missed the raging blush on Draco's face as I put away my things, making sure the leftover ingredients were left on the edge of the desk.

“I'll help you with cleanup, professor,” a voice said over the chatter of students. I noticed it was Mattheo, and I groaned, anxiety settling in my bones once again. I hadn’t even realized he made it to class, surprisingly, but at least this meant I didn’t have to deal with him in the halls.

“Start with the back row; dump the cauldrons into the sink and wash your hands after everyone,” Snape's voice called out, and as I made my way out of the room behind Draco, I noticed Mattheo sending me a sly smile, making my skin crawl as I exited the room.

“What's your next class?” Draco asked, his long strides growing shorter as his steps fell into sync with mine.

“I have a free period next; I'll probably spend it studying in the library. The potions NEWTs are next week, and I want to be as prepared as I can,” I replied, my voice getting lost in the sea of students as they chatted and moved out of the way for us. Seems Draco still held his reputation around school.

“Ah, well, good luck with studying. I'm sure you’re going to ace the NEWTs next week, even without studying. You’re top of our class, (Y/n).” He said as we both unconsciously made our way to the library.

“You’re too kind to me now, Draco. What happened to your comments?” I asked, leaving no room for a response as I opened and closed the library door behind me, leaving Draco in the hall.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

I had taken up residence at my usual table in the library, books and notes once again scattered around me as I pounded information into my weary brain. I'd very much had skipped my classes for the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon; it wouldn’t hurt to lose a point or two off some assignments that were going to be turned in late in lieu of studying. Dropping my quill, I stretched back, my arms above my head as I heard my back crack. A low moan left my lips from the pop, and I slouched back down, pulling my skirt back down from its shifting upward.

“Merlin, (Y/n), have you been here all day?” A voice said, and I looked over to its owner.

“Hi, ‘mione. nice to see you too,” I laughed, watching as she set a tray down in front of me.

“You missed dinner, so I brought you some. I figured you’d be in here since you weren’t in defense or herbology.” She said as I eyed the potatoes on the tray, and she pushed it closer, rolling her eyes with a laugh as I said a quick thanks and scarfed the food down. I didn’t realize how hungry I was, having been too engrossed in the books to realize my bodily needs.

“If you weren’t so kind, you definitely would be in Ravenclaw,” Hermione shook her head as I gave her a shy smile.

“Just trying to be my best, that’s all.” I said, placing the fork down on the empty plate.

“Oh, by the way, someone asked me to give you this. Not a clue what it is though, so be wary,” she said, handing me a small box with a note tied to it. “Looks like you have an admirer, (Y/n/n),” she teased, a blush coming to my cheeks as I opened the note.

“Be my date to the yule ball?” It read. No name attached either. Handing the note to Hermione, I opened the box, surprised to see little heart shaped chocolates in them.

“Oh, that’s sweet!” Hermione chirped as I popped one of the chocolates in my mouth, feeling it melt on my tongue as it left a tingly feeling throughout my body.

“I had totally forgotten about the yule ball, to be honest. But there’s no sender, so why would I go with them?” I quipped, my body growing hot as I swallowed the chocolate. I'd never had a secret admirer before, and the thought of it made me blush, but not knowing who it was was nerve wracking. “Plus, it’s tomorrow. Why would they ask so late?” I continued, popping another chocolate into my mouth, the same tingly feeling exploding throughout my body as I closed the box, munching on the melting chocolate.

“Who knows? But you are going, aren’t you? I'd love to see how pretty you are in your dress!” Hermione smiled, grasping my hands from across the table as I nodded.

“Yes, I do plan on going. I might just tag along with you lot. I was supposed to go with Hannah, but she snagged Longbottom and I don’t really want to third wheel,” I laughed as she nodded.

“I'd love to have you there, (Y/n). Now c’mon, pack up sweets. You need your beauty rest for some dancing tomorrow. Studying can resume on Sunday.” Laughing, I nodded as I cleaned up my space and slung my robes and bag on, holding the chocolates and note in my hand as I walked back to the Hufflepuff dorms.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The next morning had come and gone; most of it was spent soaking in one of the dormitory tubs. I couldn’t get myself to get out of the always-warm water and the bubbles that never popped. It was relaxing, but I knew I needed to get out soon. Hannah would be looking for me soon if she wasn’t already. She was keen on doing my hair and makeup again, saying she knew the perfect look for me to suit my dress. Letting out a groan, I unplugged the tub stopper, immediately missing the warmth as I stepped out and wrapped a towel around myself and patted myself dry as I picked up my clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket. Never in my years here did I question how they always knew what clothes belonged to who, but I was thankful for it.

Walking down the hall, I could hear the excitement emitting from the dorms and it brought a smile to my face as I entered my dorm, seeing Hannah on her bed, a mirror up to her face as she perfected her makeup.

“Oh, there you are! I was beginning to think you drowned yourself,” she laughed, setting down the eye pencil and mirror in her hand as she watched me plop down on my bed, a sigh escaping my lips as I stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars I had pushed on the angled room at the beginning of the term.

“What's wrong love? Something got you down?” Hannah asked, moving from her bed to mine as she grasped my hand, making me look at her and give a soft smile.

“I don’t know, Han. I don’t feel as excited for this as everyone else,” I admitted, sitting up, her hand still holding mine.

“Is it because you didn’t get asked? Merlin, (Y/n), if that’s the case, that’s an awful reason to not feel excited. I thought you’d be one of the first girls to be asked out, with how kind and pretty you are. Not to mention you’re an amazing dancer," Hannah said, moving a hand to stroke the side of my face as I nuzzled her palm softly.

“No, it’s not that. I did get asked out, but I don’t know by whom.” I admitted once more, letting out a small laugh at her gasp.

“You got asked out anonymously? What a twat!” She exclaimed, her hand holding mine tighter as I let out a giggle.

“It’s fine, Han. If I had to place it on someone, it would be Riddle. I don’t know how much more he can make it obvious that he likes me, especially since he slid his hand up my dress Thursday.” I shrugged, getting up from my bed to grab some underwear to slip into.

“That git…I swear if I see him tonight, I’m going to hex him. I don’t care if it costs me my prefect title, what he did was awful and I can’t believe the professors or headmaster aren’t doing anything about it!” She mumbled, falling on my bed like I had done a few moments ago.

“It wasn’t an open party, hon. If the professors knew, we’d all be in detention right now.” I laughed, shimmying on a pair of black underwear. “Do I wear a bra? My dress doesn’t have sleeves, but I feel like I’d need the support,” I asked, turning back to Hannah as I tossed my towel on my trunk.

“Just wear a bandeau. You’ll get the support, but no straps”

“Right,” I muttered, grabbing a nude one out of the dresser and slipping it over my head, adjusting my breasts so they sat right in the bra before I sat on Hannah’s bed. “Doll me up; do your worst,” I smirked, watching her face light up as she sprang from my bed, giggling as she made her way over to me.

An hour and a half later, I couldn’t recognise myself once more, but in the best way possible. Hannah had truly worked her magic. My hair was curled, a few pieces pinned back with a white carnation pin, and tickled my bare back. My makeup was perfect. Blemishes and imperfections covered once again, a pale blush scattered across my cheeks. She had done a shimmery eyeshadow over my lids once again, and a dainty line of dark eyeshadow to mimic eyeliner, but she had buffed a dark brown under my eyes, topped off with filling my brows and a luscious layer of mascara to make my eyes pop.

“You look more beautiful than ever, (Y/n),” Hannah smiled softly at me, kissing my cheek softly as I beamed up at her. If this was the wizarding equivalent of a muggle prom, I felt like the prom queen, even without my dress on.

“Thank you Han, now go get your man,” I winked at her, shooing her away as she laughed, picking up the bottom of her once again dark red dress, the layers falling behind her as she made her way out of the dorm. Smiling, I could finally feel the excitement creeping up on me as I looked at my dress hanging on the side of my wardrobe. I reached out, feeling the tulle between my fingers before I got up, taking it off its hanger and slipping into it. It was a beautiful daffodil color, a sweetheart neckline that had flowing layers that ended at my heel, with an intricate floral lace on the bodice that trickled down onto the skirt. Spinning around, I enjoyed the way it ballooned out before falling against my legs once again. It was like a princess dress, in my eyes. Hearing the 7 o’clock bell ring out, I grabbed a pair of teardrop pearls and put them on, then a matching necklace before slipping into the nude flats I had gotten in Hogsmeade earlier in the semester before leaving.

I could hear the music being played from inside the Great Hall, and all of a sudden, I was swarmed with anxiety. I’d be entering alone, the music was so loud, what if Mattheo was there? I struggled to find my breath, placing a hand over my chest to try and even out my breathing as I sat on the stone steps outside the entrance to the hall. I could see my friends inside, watching as they danced and laughed together, while I was holding myself together with pieces of tape. Feeling beautiful moments before didn’t help me, and I struggled to not let any unwanted thoughts in my brain, but they came crashing down anyways. Was I not good enough? Was it because of how big I was? Was I just some checkbox for the boys here to flick with their quill; to try and get into my pants to say they fucked the fat girl? Was I even pretty enough? Were my friends just my friends because they pitied me and couldn’t dump me after the first year?

The thoughts swirled in my brain, and tears brimmed at my waterline as I curled into myself, clutching my head as I rocked back and forth, a pitiful attempt to try and calm myself down before I fully broke down. I didn’t notice Mattheo standing above me until it was too late.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?” He asked, sitting down next to me as I bit my lip, his presence making my anxiety worse.

“Go away Mattheo; I don’t want to see you,” I quivered, turning my body away from his as I rubbed my arms, the feeling of his hands on me from Thursday ghosting over my skin, even though he wasn’t touching me now.

“I wanted to apologize, (Y/n). It was wrong of me to force myself on you, and I deeply regret my actions. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, badger,” he spoke, his words whispers on my ears. “But I did mean it when I called you pretty all those times; I truly think you’re one of the prettiest girls at this school, if not the most,” he continued, and I brought my watery gaze to his, already finding his eyes on me. “Please, if not your forgiveness, can I at least ask a dance of you? And perhaps a drink, too?” He pleaded with me, sincerity glazing over his eyes for a moment, and I nodded, not finding the words to speak as he offered me a hand, pulling me up from the steps as I sniffled, rubbing gently at my undereye to not smear the makeup. “Thank you, darling. Now, shall we?” He asked, extending his arm to me, and I slowly linked with him, guiding me through the grand oak doors and down the steps. I could see my friends turn to the late entrance, their focus on me and the man who had me wrapped around his arm. I could see Draco in the back, standing by Pansy and Theo, a faint blush on his cheeks, but a scowl on his face as he saw who I was with. If a grand entrance was what I was hoping for, this was the closest thing to it.

I could feel my dress swooshing behind me and the magic in the air as Mattheo guided me to the dance floor, spinning me gently to face him before he rested a gentle hand on my hip, his firm fingers digging into the fat of my hips before he took my other hand and started dancing. I followed his movements, swaying to the beat of the slow song as other pairs started dancing around us. Looking up, I could see the candles had stayed, floating in the air but accompanied by little stars and constellations. The whole room was magical, quite literally and aesthetically. It was like we were planted in the middle of the woods, looking at the starry sky. Flowers and vines crawled across the floor and walls, an echo of a creek played behind the classical music, and it smelled like fresh rain, along with the cologne Mattheo had put on. I hadn’t realized I was resting my head on his chest until the song ended, and I stepped away with a blush.

“Sorry,” I murmured, hearing him chuckle.

“It’s okay, (Y/n). Why don’t you go mingle with your friends, and I’ll find us something to drink. I did promise a drink, afterall,” he said, shooing me away with a soft smile, and I glanced back while making my way over to Hermione, seeing Mattheo still standing there, a wonderstruck look on his face before he turned to the assortment of drinks and goods by the stairs.

“You danced with Mattheo!” Hemione said, grasping my shoulders as she shook me, a confused look on her face as Cedric and Cho stood there, interlocked in each other’s arms, the same look of confusion on their faces.

“He asked me to dance, and he also apologized. I agreed; I didn’t want to make him feel bad, ‘Mione,” I stated, stepping back as I shrugged.

“Did you accept his apology? After what he did to you?” Cedric spoke up after a moment, his brows furrowing and I shook my head.

“No, at least not verbally. He apologized, and then said ‘if not your forgiveness, at least a dance and a drink after,’ if I recall properly,” I said, sitting at the empty table behind us, seeing Draco make his way over.

“(Y/n), Sherry, right?” Mattheo said, turning my attention back to the curly-haired male. Nodding, I accepted the glass from him with a smile.

“Thank you, Mattheo.”

“No worries. I’ll be right back; they’re refilling the firewhiskey as we speak, so I’m going to go grab a glass for myself,” he responded, sending me a wink before disappearing into the crowd once again.

“He tries to be all goody and nice, I can’t believe the audacity of that man,” Hannah said, scaring me as I whipped around.

“Han! When did you get here?” I asked, bringing the bubbly drink up to my lips, taking a sip. It burned more than normal, and an overwhelming sensation flooded my system, making my head spin as I took another sip, thinking I was just parched.

“When Riddle was giving googly eyes at you,” she rolled her eyes, resting her elbows on the table as she scanned me over. “You don’t look too good, (Y/n). Are you okay?” She asked, reaching over the table to feel my forehead. “Merlin, you’re burning up!”

“I-I’m fine, I swear. It must be the mix of alcohol and dancing. I’ll be alright, Han,” I said, my words slurring together as I felt my face flush again.

“I don’t think it’s that,” Draco’s voice called from behind me, and I turned around again, my vision blurring from the too-sudden movement.

“Dra-Draco.” I greeted, biting my lower lip as I looked up at him, my vision dancing with stars as I tried to focus on him. I heard the chair next to me scrape back, and I could hear Mattheo’s voice. It was muffled though, as if I was underwater.

“I think…I think I’m going to go get some air outside, guys. I’ll be right back,” I mumbled, swaying as I got up from the seat, gripping onto Draco’s bicep as I steadied myself for a moment before making my way outside.

“Too much alcohol for her? I mixed it with the lemon-lime soda she likes,” Mattheo commented, watching as I ascended the staircase and out of everyone’s view.

“Hm…I don’t think it’s that, Riddle. She’s handed much more alcohol than that before,” Cedric chimed in, sending a glare at Mattheo, who threw his hands up in defense.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear. You can ask Ginny; she was at the refreshments with me,” he said, his eyes widening before a loud cough echoed through the speakers.

“Excuse me, students,” McGonagall’s voice spoke through the mic. “It has come to my attention that while we do allow alcoholic beverages here during the yule ball, one of the punch bowls was tainted with. It didn’t seem like too many students took a cup of it, but if you or one of your friends had a cup of Sherry and ingested it, please report to Madame Pomfrey immediately. We do not know what was put in the bowl, but it is urgent that whoever needs it, seeks the antidote right away,” McGonagall finished, and murmurs floated throughout the crowd.

“Oh, fuck,” Mattheo whispered, running a hand through his curls as he leaned back, panic on his face.

“Where’s Draco? Did he have some of the Sherry too?” Hannah asked, glancing over the group. She didn’t know that once Sherry was mentioned by McGonagall, he took off, looking for your whereabouts.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

I don’t know how, but I had found myself in the dungeons, taking solace in its chilly temperature as my body burned. The Sherry tonight was much more potent than usual, and I wanted more after I cooled off. Running my hands along the cool stone walls, my mind flooded with thoughts of Draco. How nice he had been to me, walking me back to my dorm the other night, how lovely his hair always looked. I imagined his lips on mine; how they would feel as his fingers wove into my hair as he peppered my neck with kisses. A small whimper escaped my throat from the thought, and I used the wall to hold myself up, my knees growing weak from the flooding of indecent thoughts about the boy I had known since I was twelve.

“Fuck..” I muttered, sliding against the wall onto the floor, my breath coming out in small pants. Placing my hand over my heart, I could feel it beating a million miles an hour, and my brain was so foggy. The thoughts flooded my mind, and a burning sensation lit in my abdomen, only fueling my thoughts about Draco. What would he be like in bed? Would he treat me good? Does he know what he’s doing, unlike me? Godric, I was horny for this man. I could feel it in my panties, the way they were sticking to me was a sign, but I couldn’t do anything about it, not with this dress on at least.

“Fuck, (Y/n), you feel so good,” his voice echoed in my brain as I tried to steady myself against the wall, a rush of slick pooling in my panties as I let out a choked sob. I could feel the fabric of my bra and bodice brush against my breasts, the friction burning in the most pleasurable way possible. If I didn’t get out of here soon, someone would see me in this pathetic, alcohol-induced state of horniness.

“Be a good girl for me, yeah darling? That’s it,” the voice continued in my head as I staggered along the wall, my shoes scuffing along the floor as I slowly made my way down the hall, my chest heaving with every breath as sweat started to bead on my hairline.

“(Y/n)? Merlin, there you are,” I heard Draco hall from me, and I cursed silently under my breath as I heard him start to run up to me.

“N-No..Draco, don’t come any closer,” I whispered, trying not to let a choked moan escape my throat, the heat between my thighs burning with every step I took. I held out a wavering hand in front of me, a fruitless effort to get him to stop, to leave me alone so there wasn’t another reason to be embarrassed. Feeling his hands on my shoulders, a loud moan ripped from my throat as I collapsed against him, my brain too foggy to care anymore as his hands sent electricity down my spine.

“We..We need to get you to Madame Pomfrey, right now,” Draco said, ignoring the blush on his cheeks and the way his pants tightened from the moan I had let out. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, helping me steady myself, the blush on my cheeks darker than ever as I gripped the sleeve of his suit, cursing how I wished how I knew he looked under it.

“N..No…I can’t let anyone see me like this!” I exclaimed with all my strength, looking up at him with watery eyes, hoping he could see my plea behind them. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head.

“Fine. I’ll bring you to my dorm, then I’ll get Madame Pomfrey to come see you,” Draco guided you to the Slytherin door, whispering “Pure-Blood.” I watched as the serpent decoration moved, revealing the door to the common room. I let Draco guide me to his room, goosebumps littering my skin as his grip on me tightened. We soon entered his room, and he guided me to his bed. I let out a soft whimper as his hands left my bare skin, letting me sit down on the bed. I relaxed into the soft bedding, only to feel Draco gently brush up the material of my gown, his hands grasping one of my ankles softly.

“Draco..” I whimpered, feeling his slender fingers slide down, slipping my shoe off and placing it by the foot of his bed, repeating the process for the other one.

“It’s gonna be okay, (Y/n),” he whispered, getting up from his crouched position to brush a stray curl behind my ears before he traced a finger along my jawline, sending another jolt of electricity down my spine. “I’m going to go get Madame Pomfrey; stay here, please,” he said, locking his eyes with mine as I nodded, my lips parting slightly. I saw his gaze graze over them, licking his own before he turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door gently. I could hear the echoes of his shoes running down the hall, clicking until he was too far. I let myself fall back on the bed, resting my hand over my eye. I was so confused, the alcohol wasn’t helping my confusion, and I was so fucking horny. Everything stacked on top of each other wasn’t making sense, with Draco, the ball. The only thing I could do was sigh, making the dress shift on me once more, another soft moan leaving my lips.

After a bit, Draco returned, but without Madame Pomfrey. I noticed the shirt in his hands, and a pink blush on his pale cheeks.

“Ma-Madame Pomfrey? Where is she?” I asked, adjusting myself so I could sit on the bed, clenching my thighs as I felt another rush of slick come out of me. I swear my brain was being fried, with how hot I was at this point.

“She’s…she’s occupied, with other students right now,” he coughed, turning his head away as he tossed me the shirt in his hands. “I went to your room too, by the way. Figured you’d want something better to change into while we figure out what to do.”

“Oh, thank you,” I murmured, feeling the soft fabric beneath my fingers. It was an old shirt I had stolen from my dad years ago, I forgot I even owned it. Where Draco found it is beyond me. “You said she’s occupied with other students? Did something happen at the ball?” I asked, reaching around to fiddle with the dress’s zipper, feeling it slide beneath my fingers as I grunted from the loss. “Can you help me?”

“Er, yes,” Draco whispered. His actions were concerning me, to the point where they were fighting against the horniness my brain was screaming release from. “Somebody spiked the Sherry at the ball…she’s trying to help the few other students recover from it,” He mumbled, dragging his fingers along my shoulders, and I couldn’t help but shudder from his ministrations. Hearing the zipper fall, I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, the dress constricting more than what I thought, and it felt like I had just taken the first actual breath of air in hours.

“Thank you,” I got up off the bed, shimmying out of the dress as it pooled around my feet. The cool air of his room hit the wetness in my panties, and I let out a small whimper, pulling the oversized shirt over my head. I missed the way Draco’s eyes glazed over me, his eyes stopping at my underwear and his eyes locking in on how dark they had become, and the slick that had dripped onto my thighs, glimmering in the low light. “What…what do we do about…” I asked, shyly gesturing a hand to me as I met his eyes. There was no way I could leave his room, looking like this, but Madame Pomfrey was busy, and it could be hours before she could come here.

“I…er…” Draco coughed, his head turning away from me with a dark blush, sending another bolt of electricity down my spine. I bit my lip to stifle the moan threatening to spill from my lips as I waited for him to continue. “She…she said we could wait, or…” He trailed off again, and I noticed he was fidgeting with his hands. I could only watch as he gathered the strength to say what he was trying to say. “Or we could. Um. They figured out what the potion was. It was a lust potion, and well, the obvious answer is to fuck it out of the person, or wait for it to run its course, which could be hours or even days, depending on how potent it was. Professor Snape and McGonagall are working on an antidote right now,” he rushed out, his hands moving to the front of his trousers, trying to hide the obvious erection he had at the moment. It took a moment for the words to sink into my skin, and another bright blush coated my face, burning so hard I could feel it on my ears.

“O-Oh.” Was all I could squeak out, my hands trembling at my sides as I sat back down on the bed, trying my hardest to ignore the friction the sheets provided against my mostly bare ass.

“I…I could help you,” Draco said, and my head shot up, his light grey eyes locking with my eyes. “I don’t want to see you in pain, (Y/n),” he spoke again, taking a few strides to stand in front of me, and his hand was on the side of my face. If possible, my blush grew hotter as I watched him, feeling his thumb stroke the side of my face gently and I let out a small pant. I felt like a dog in heat, and as much as I wanted to get rid of this potion in my bloodstream, how could I let Draco do this? We’d barely been friends for the term, and now he was offering to help me with this problem?

“Draco- I…I don’t know. We’ve barely been friends for the term; I don’t understand at all,” I started to confess, and the words just kept tumbling out. “You were so mean to me up until this year, and now you’re standing up for me against Riddle, your best friend. You’re walking me to classes and being nice to me, bloody hell, you aren’t sneering at me in potions for doing all the work, even offering to do the paper we have due,” and then it hit me. I had smelt Draco in the Amortentia potion. How could I have not noticed until now? His fragrance hit me again, apples, sandalwood, and peppermint filling my senses once more as he leaned down between my parted thighs, and tears pricked at my waterline again. “Fuck, I’m so stupid,” I mumbled, wiping away at the tears that threatened to spill as his large hands moved to my thighs, continuing to rub them in small, gentle circles.

“You aren’t stupid, (Y/n). If anyone is stupid, I am. I was mean to you because I didn’t know how to process the feelings I had for you when I was younger. Fuck, I still don’t know how. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore this year; I made that decision over the summer while studying potions. I had recreated the Amortentia potion to practice for the NEWTs as well, and I had smelled you; the smell of honeysuckle in your conditioner, the ever-staying smell of vanilla from the Hufflepuff dorms, even the scent of marshmallows,” Draco said, his eyes locking with mine as a hand moved back to my face, gripping it gently. “I realized I was in love with you, (Y/n). I love you a lot more than my pitiful heart can process, and I never want to hurt you again. I regret my actions from the past, more than I can convey, and I want to make it up to you from here on out. I don’t want to take advantage of you, so if you don’t want to, just say the word. I just want to help you,” his words turned quiet as he finished, and there was a twinge in my heart, hearing him say he was in love with me. A few moments passed, letting the quiet around us settle back in before I nodded, grasping his hand that was on my thigh.

“I want you to help me, please,” I said, my heart beating faster with every word I said. I didn’t even realize it sounded like I was begging until after, but I pushed the thought away as he stood up in front of me, a soft smile on his face as he stripped his suit jacket, tossing it across the chair by his desk.

“I’ll help you as best I can, (Y/n). Just lay back for me now,” he whispered, and I obeyed, leaning back on the soft sheets as he settled between my thighs, pushing them a bit farther open as he leaned in over my face. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” He asked, a hand resting against my cheek as I nodded, and that’s all it took for his lips to be on mine. It felt like a million fireworks had gone off in my body as he moved his lips gently against mine, unspoken words behind every movement. Reaching up, I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him closer as I kissed him with more fevor. Feeling him shift, I could feel his hips grind against my clothed pussy, eliciting a loud moan from my throat as I pulled away, resting my forehead against his as he let out a soft chuckle.

“You’re so pretty, (Y/n),” he whispered against my lips before kissing me once there, then moving down to my jaw, then neck, leaving wet, opened mouth kisses along the tender skin. Whimpering, I released my arms from around his neck, letting him continue his ministrations, until he was met with the collar of my shirt. “Can I take this off, love?” He asked gently, watching as I nodded, trying to catch my breath. I could feel his cool fingers sliding under my shirt, another whimper leaving me as his hands bunched up the fabric before bringing it off my arms and over my head. “Godric, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, kissing along my collarbone, nipping at a few spots, making me mewl.

“Draco, please,” I moaned, feeling one of his hands come up to cup my breast, kneading it softly through the thin material of my bra. His thumb grazed over my perked nipple, obvious through the fabric before he dipped down, licking over it, a strangled moan escaping me. “Merlin, that feels good,” I managed to get out before he stood back, wiping a hand over his wet mouth.

“Take off your bra,” he demanded, no harshness behind his voice as he started to unbutton his dress shirt, and I complied, digging my fingers under the band as I lifted it over my head, feeling my breasts jiggle as they came back down. Draco’s eyes never left my chest as he finished with his shirt, throwing it off into the room somewhere as he kicked off his shoes before he sat down on the bed. “Come here,” he said, grabbing my hips as he lifted me onto his lap, a soft squeal coming from me as I sat down, feeling his dick poke into my wet panties.

“O-Oh,” I moaned out before his lips crashed back down on mine, his hands sliding down my hips to grab my ass, making me moan before he started grinding me down on him. His fingers dug into the fat of my ass, dragging me across his clothed cock as a moan escaped both of us, my head falling onto his shoulder as he continued the action, low groans flowing into my ear.

“I want you so bad, (Y/n), please,” he begged into my ear, and I nodded into the crevice of his neck, nipping at it gently as I felt his hand slip under me, his slender fingers dragging along my soaked panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he commented, digging his finger between my folds, enjoying the wetness that collected on his fingers before he drew small circles around my clit, a high pitched moan leaving my lips as my hips buckled into his hand, desprate for more friction.

“Draco, please,” I moaned into his ear, grasping his wrist, bringing it closer to my core. Understanding what I wanted, he moved my underwear to the side, dragging a finger along my wet folds before slowly inserting it into me, another moan rippling through me as he pumped it in and out of me, the wet squelching noises lost between my moans. “F-Fuck, it feels-” I shuddered out, tossing my head back before his lips attached to the sensitive spot beneath my ear, nipping at it as he slid another finger in with ease, curling them up into the spot inside me that had me seeing stars. “Draco!” I gasped out, feeling him abuse the gummy spot as I rutted my hips against his hand, his palm catching on my clit. His other hand continued to knead my ass, spurring me closer and closer to the edge. “I-I’m close,” I whimpered out, threading my fingers into his hair and giving a sharp tug right as his fingers pushed me over the edge, my vision spotting as I came on his fingers with a broken moan of his name. Stilling his motions, he left his fingers inside me, using his other hand to grab my chin, smashing his lips on mine. Kissing me, he slipped his fingers out of me, making me whimper at the loss before he flipped us over so he was on top, his lips never leaving mine as he pulled his pants down, taking his underwear with it. I could feel the tip of his cock hit my stomach, and I reached down, grasping it in my hand before I gave him a small pump, a shaky moan leaving his lips.

“Don’t,” Draco murmured against my lips, bringing one of his hands down to stop my hand, and I looked at him with teary eyes.

“I wanna-I wanna make you feel good too, Dray,” I whispered, watching him shake his head in protest.

“No, you come first,” he said against my lips, pulling my hand back up before he tapped my hips. Lifting them, I felt his fingers slide under the band of my panties before slowly taking them off, shuffling a bit so he could take them off my legs. They got thrown over his shoulder somewhere, landing on the floor before his lips landed back on mine. Running his tongue over my lip, I parted them, allowing his tongue to enter, entangling with mine as he gripped my hips, dragging me to the edge of the bed. “Fuck, I know I’m supposed to be helping you, but I want you so bad (Y/n). I can’t wait to feel you,” Draco whispered against my lips, grasping his cock with one hand, dipping it in the slick on my pussy. The action sent a shudder through my body, followed by a moan as he gently pushed in, the fat tip of his cock stretching me farther than I thought it would. Pushing a hand against his chest, I let out some soft pants, feeling the pain melt into pleasure.

“Dray, I’m..I’ve never done this before,” I admitted, watching as he nodded.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” was all he said before he slowly pushed into me, a guttural moan leaving my lips. Everything burned with desire; Draco was making shallow thrusts, his hands gripping my hips tightly, as though he’d lose me in this act. Shifting my hips a bit, his shallow thrusts hit the same spot that made me see stars with his fingers, and I moaned, biting my lip as I kept moving them in sync with his thrusts.

“More, I need more,” I begged, gripping onto his biceps. I’m sure I left little crescent marks in them from my nails, but that was the least of my worried as Draco started going faster; his shallow thrusts started turning into longer ones, his cock almost leaving my pussy entirely before it would slam back it, making me moan over and over. All of a sudden, it felt like a too tight coil was placed inside me, threatening to snap with each of his thrusts, and my whimpers came out broken, shifting my legs further apart so he could be closer to me. “Dr-Draco!” I let out a loud moan, the coil inside me snapping as my vision saw stars again, and I could make out the grunts coming from him above me, his dick shuddering inside me as my walls clamped around him.

“Fuck, (Y/n), you feel so good,” Draco leaned down, capturing my lips in another kiss as I felt him shudder above, his hips stilling for a moment until it felt hot inside me. He came inside me, and he seemed to realize that as he pulled out slowly, a whimper left me from the sensitivity. “Shit, I didn’t mean to-” He stammered, a hand on his creamy cock as I sat up, my brain feeling less fuzzy than before.

“S’okay, Dray,” I murmured, looking up at him through my lashes. “I’m on the pill; I’ll be okay,” I said with a soft smile, a hand running over his abs, enjoying how they felt under my fingertips.

“Fuck, every word that comes out of your mouth just gets hotter, princess,” he chuckled, making my clench my thighs from the pet name. It didn’t go unnoticed by Draco though, who just let out another chuckle. “You like that, don’t you princess?” He purred, grasping my chin to make me look at him. I could only nod, seeing a smirk come across his face. “Good, because I’m far from done with you. Need to make sure every drop of that potion is fucked out of that little brain of yours, darling,” he said before grasping my thighs and flipping me over, my ass in the air for him to see. His hand met the squishy fat, and a sharp slap echoed through the room, making me moan from the contact. “You’re such a dirty girl, (Y/n). Even though you just got fucked for the first time, I can see you want more,” Draco murmured, and I could feel his hot breath against my pussy, making me shudder.

“Draco, not there, it’s…it’s gross,” I said, a blush coming across my cheeks as I turned around, only seeing his bare shoulders and his platinum hair behind my ass.

“Oh, love, I want to though,” was all he said before licking a stripe up my lips, a strangled moan coming out of me as his tongue dipped into my pussy, sucking and licking everywhere until my legs were shaking and I had come again from his tongue. I was so sensitive, and I could feel myself clenching around nothing, and a soft laugh sent vibrations through me, goosebumps littering my skin as Draco removed his face from my pussy, all evidence of his cum and mine gone, only leaving his saliva and new waves of slick on me.

“It’s going to be a long night, princess, I hope you’re ready,” Draco said, shifting behind me as he gripped my hips before filling me up with one long and hard thrust, sending me forwards onto his bed.

Oh Merlin.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

I woke up to sunlight streaming on the bed, warming my thighs, and for a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was. All I cared about was cuddling back into Draco’s chest, ignoring the world around us.

Wait.

Draco.

I was in his bed, in a t-shirt and no underwear.

Sitting up, I ran a hand through my hair, untangling the knots that had formed, and my back ached. Looking around, I saw Draco asleep, right next to where I just was. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and from the looks of it, only boxers, which made my cheeks light up as I hid my face in my hands. Memories of last night came flooding into my brain; the Sherry being spiked with a lust potion, Draco finding me by the Slytherin commons, him offering to help me because he didn’t want to see me in pain, and mostly, him fucking me brainless on almost every surface in his room. His bed, his desk, against his dresser. I don’t remember if there was a spot where his dick wasn’t inside me. Feeling him shift next to me, I looked down to see his grey eyes looking at me, messy hair covering his forehead, and I felt my heart flutter a bit.

“G’morning, love,” he said, his voice husky with sleep as he sat up next to me, a soft smile coming to both our faces. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Ah, yes, I did. Um…thank you, Draco,” I said, peeling my eyes away from his as I looked at my lap, clutching my hands together. It was probably a one night stand; he probably pitied how pathetic I was last night, and wanted to get some points with Crabbe and Goyle. The thought brought tears to my eyes, and I sniffled a bit, remembering how I smelled him in the Amortentia. There was no doubt that I liked him, but he probably didn’t like me back, so what was the point in staying around? Shifting, I let my legs dangle over the edge of the bed before I pushed myself up, my knees buckling underneath me and in one swift motion, Draco was by the edge of the bed, holding me up by my hips.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his voice soft.

I gulped, unsure of if I should tell him the truth. “I…I’m leaving. You can tell Crabbe and Goyle you bedded me, and get the bet money. I can be another checkmark on your list of boxes, I just can’t be here anymore,” I whispered out, my voice cracking as I tried to ignore the way his hands gripped my hips tighter as I spoke.

“Bet money? (Y/n), what are you talking about, love?”

“I-I know you were just trying to help me, but I know I’m just another game to you. Fuck the fat girl, get the money. I know how it goes, Draco,” I spoke, my voice quivering as I fought back the tears that threatened to fall as I looked at him. He looked...heartbroken, and confused, which only fueled my confusion as his mouth opened to talk.

“(Y/n), darling. There was no bet, for Merlin’s sake. I helped you because I wanted to, not because you were a box for me to check off. I love you, have I not made that clear enough?” He asked, guiding me back onto the bed and onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“I..I thought you didn’t mean it last night. Godric’s sake, look at me Draco. I’m nothing like Pansy, or Hermione, or Cho, or any of the other girls here. You could have so much better than…than me,” I said quietly, the tears finally falling. I knew my worth, and in comparison to the other girls here, I was close to the bottom of the list, if not at the very bottom.

“(Y/n), look at me, please,” Draco asked, placing a hand on my jaw, his thumb rubbing small circles on my cheek as he guided me to look at him. I could see the hurt in his eyes, and the frown that was on his face. “Yes, those other girls are pretty, but they hold no light next to you. You are the brightest light in my life, the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. You’re so smart, witty, hardworking, I could go on and on for hours about the things I love about you. You are all I’ve ever wanted, and more. If anything, I don’t deserve you,” he spoke, and I could hear the sincerity lacing every one of his words as he wiped the tears from my face. “I meant it when I said I loved you. I love you more than words could ever describe, and I’m so glad it was you I smelled in the Amortentia over the summer, and even in class. It hurt my heart to say it wasn’t you I smelled, but I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know how much more I can say or even do to make you believe I love you, but I will keep trying and saying and doing things until you believe me, love.”

Nodding, a soft smile came back onto my face. “Maybe another kiss will make me believe you,” I whispered, causing Draco to laugh.

“If that’s what it’ll take, then I’ll kiss you til the day I die,” he said before pressing his lips against mine, weaving his hand that was on my jaw into my hair as our lips moved in sync for a few moments. Pulling away, I let out a small giggle, pressing my forehead against his before another thought came into my mind.

“Dray?” I asked, pulling away a bit to see his face.

“Yes, love?”

“Does this mean..we’re like..together?”

“Is it not obvious?”

“Well, you never asked me, so…”

“Merlin, (Y/n). You’re going to be the death of me,” he laughed, grasping my hand as his other one untangled itself from my hair, going back to its place on my jaw. “Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/n) (L/n), the most beautiful Hufflepuff and woman to ever walk the face of this earth,” he asked, making me laugh.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I said, smiling as I leaned in for another kiss before pulling away again, making Draco groan. “You still have to do the essay today, love,” I reminded him, a cheeky smile coming to my face as I saw him roll his eyes before he leaned back down, taking me with him with a squeal.

“Let me have this moment with my girlfriend, (Y/n). Then we can talk academics.”

[kokichis-dead-dove-club]

I know there are lots of WC books, boy do I know. But put your most faves of the series and rate them - shipping-shiggy.

oh fuck this is HARD

hmmmmmm...... im gonna do this in categories i think, putting under the cut bc this could get long

alright i'll start with super editions, since theyre the most cut and dry i think

crookedstar's promise, it's super good, very emotional, i love crookedstar

tallstar's revenge, very gay, love it

this one's kinda difficult bc i havent read most of the older ones in a long time, so i think my answer would probably change once i've reread them, so... tentatively, im gonna say crowfeather's trial, for the sole reason that i have been a crowfeather fan since i was 10

ok next up im gonna do it by arc, and then after that i'll pick my faves out of those faves

for the prophecies begin:

into the wild, ofc

rising storm

i think a dangerous path and the darkest hour are tied here

honestly, the first arc in general is just rly solid, probably the best in the series (altho not my favorite arc)

now for the new prophecy... disclaimer, i havent read these books in at least 6 years, and i dont remember hardly anything so im going off wiki summaries lmao

starlight (windclan civil war my beloved, oh if only you were better fleshed out and expanded on)

sunset (good bramblehawk content lmao)

moonrise

power of three time

eclipse!! when i was a kid i reread this book over and over bc i thought the battle in the tunnels was just SO fucking cool, and yknow what? i was right

dark river

the sight

omen of the stars

the last hope for the sheer impact it had on me as a kid (also i still cry over firestar's death lmao)

night whispers

the forgotten warrior

dawn of the clans, my favorite arc!

the first battle, it has my favorite line in the series and is just. so good.

a forest divided

path of stars

a vision of shadows

SHATTERED SKY this is in my top 5 of all time, i LOVE how fucking dark it is, i can't get enough, i want more warriors books that are this level of fucked

thunder and shadow

the apprentice's quest

honestly this arc... kinda sucks lmao, it has some high points but overall... nah

the broken code! this is probably my 2nd or 3rd fave arc, i rly liked it

lost stars, incredibly strong start to an arc

the silent thaw, was not bored for even a single page reading this one, which is very rare for warriors

darkness within bc of how dark it is, even in comparison to the rest of this arc; like, that scene where the sisters are trying to summon bramblestar's ghost but instead it's a bunch of ghost cats screaming in agony?? fucking awesome

aaand i can't rly rate the current arc since theres only one book out dnfgdjkfh but i really loved river, i think this arc is gonna be pretty good!

soooo overall rankings! we have:

shattered sky, i could read it again and again, i swear

the first battle

into the wild

and just for funsies here are some of my least favorite books, not rly categorized bc im getting tired of typing<3

yellowfang's secret, leopardstar's honor, squirrelflight's hope, the sun trail (seriously fuck this book), outcast (every time the erins write a traveling book i die a little more inside), the fourth apprentice, river of fire, and the place of no stars

[hercleverboy]

Congrats!!! I love your writing!! I’d like to request a blurb with #36 from the general list and #41 from fluf 💕💕💕

thank you so much! enjoy! 

I don’t really like this piece too much, so please let me know what you think! 

wc ↠ 1.7k

General #36 ↠ “Do you trust me?” “No.”

Fluff #41 ↠ “You say you hate him but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

Spencer Reid had hated her from the moment he met her.

Y/N was absolutely sure of it. When they met for the first time when she joined the BAU, he seemed polite enough. Though he just never let her in the same way he let in the other team members. She understood at first, Spencer had known the rest of the team for years at that point. She even found herself incredibly attracted to the young genius, developing somewhat of a crush on him. His reputation certainly proceeded him, particularly when it came to his issues with germs, so she kept to herself. She understood it would take him time to get used to her, but where the rest of the team warmed to Y/N and accepted her as a part of their family; Spencer never did. 

During paperwork days when Y/N would get up to make coffee in the corner of the bullpen, Spencer would already be in the kitchenette, stirring his sugar in with intent. She’d always offer him a polite smile and some light conversation. However, it seemed that as soon as she started to speak, Spencer would pick up his coffee and head back to his desk. She let that go, thinking perhaps she was getting too much in his personal space, though it hung around in the back of her mind for weeks afterwards. 

 After cases when they’d get on the jet to go back home, she would take a seat opposite him, offer him a kind smile and then pull out a book to read, wholly intent on minding her own business. But Spencer, without even looking up at her, would simply get up and move to an empty seat at the other end of the jet.

Y/N exchanged a look with JJ, who had just shrugged in response. She couldn’t understand Spencer’s dislike for the woman who’d been nothing but kind, and who the team were all already incredibly fond of. She had good initiative, was brilliant in the field and had a capability to pick up on patterns earlier than the rest of them, sometimes even before the resident genius himself. The team suspected that Spencer’s supposed hatred for her was actually his poor attempt at disguising the fact that he was madly in love with her, but he never confirmed nor denied it. 

Then somehow, as if she didn’t already think Spencer hated her enough, it got worse. Any time she made contributions to their group conversations, Spencer would cut her off. It was belittling, honestly. It made her second guess her intelligence whenever she’d pose a theory. Every time, without fail, Spencer would pipe up and say, ‘You’re wrong. It’s actually more plausible that—‘ 

One day, they were sat around the roundtable, having finished debriefing after a long case. The team exchanged murmurs of plans to head down to the bar, with Garcia smiling enthusiastically and insisting that the first round was on her. Y/N had felt pretty awful for the majority of the case, and to top it off she was sure she was coming down with a cold too. 

“How about you, Y/L/N? You coming?” Morgan piped up, his usual smirk on his lips. 

She forced a smile, scoffing. “No, I think I’m just gonna head home, but thank you.” 

Morgan shook his head, determined. “Come on. Even Reid’s coming!” 

Y/N looked over at Spencer then, who busied himself with packing away items in his satchel, although she didn’t miss the scowl that seemed to plant itself on his face. She looked back to Morgan. “Sorry Morgan, I’m just not feeling it.” 

Morgan sighed, but still tried one last time, raising his eyebrows suggestively.  “You sure? It’ll be fun, maybe you and Reid will finally start getting along after a few drinks.” 

“Y/N bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sure there’s at least a hundred other people that Reid would rather spend the evening with.”

At that comment, Spencer threw his satchel strap over his shoulder and left the room in a hurry, a look on his face that seemingly resembled hurt. 

Y/N swatted Morgan’s shoulder playfully. “Look what you’ve done now! You know how much Reid hates me.” She whined. 

Morgan chuckled. “Please, Pretty Boy doesn’t hate you.” 

“Uh-huh, sure.” 

“It’s true! Don’t tell anyone I told you, but the team has an ongoing bet on when you two will finally admit your feelings for one another.” He leaned in closer to her. “And I’ve got $20 riding on it being in the summer, if you could help a guy out?” 

Y/N groaned at that. “Well be prepared to lose your money, it’s never going to happen. Spencer Reid hates me, and do you know what? I hate him too.” She said defiantly, although it was all too obvious that she was lying through her teeth. 

Morgan smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. “You say you hate him, but your red face is telling me otherwise.” 

Y/N just waved him off, ignoring how he chuckled at how flustered she’d gotten, and that was that. 

Reid’s quite frankly petty behaviour was really winding down on Y/N mentally, and although Hotch often told him off for his snarky comments or gave him the third degree for constantly trying to one-up her, Spencer persisted.

They’d been working on a new case for a week, and Garcia had just sent the team the location of where the unsub was holding his fourth victim hostage. Hopping out of the SUV’s, the team regrouped in front of the house as Hotch ran over the plan with them. 

“JJ, Morgan and Rossi, you’re with me. Y/L/N and Reid will take the back. We take the unsub in alive if possible, understand?” He instructed, everyone nodding as they reached for their guns. 

“Can’t you switch Morgan and Y/L/N over?” Spencer began to whine but was quickly shut down by Hotch shooting him a warning look. He scoffed, rolling his eyes in defeat. “Great.”

After entering through the back of the house, the two began checking each room they passed by. As they rounded a corner, stalking towards a closed door, Spencer moved so he was in front of Y/N, in what she noticed was an almost protective manner. He leaned closer to the door, listening intently for any sign that the unsub was inside. 

“Is he in there?” She whispered, and Spencer looked back at her, nodding. 

“I think so.” 

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment in thought, running over the important details of the profile in her head. “Do you trust me?” 

Spencer scoffed quietly. “No.”

“Well, you’re not going to have a choice.” She mumbled, and before Spencer realised what was happening, Y/N had burst open the door, her gun drawn. 

*

Y/N was stood in the local police station’s conference room, collecting together files and taking down crime scene photos from the evidence board. The case had ended well. Based off of the profile, Y/N had decided that the best course of action was to confront the unsub head on- and it worked, too. Hotch had already told her that she’d done well that day, and that made her heart swell with pride. But Spencer? He hadn’t said anything on the ride back to the police station, busying himself with other things as they prepared to head back home. 

Y/N sighed at the thought, looking up from the evidence board just as Spencer entered the room. He immediately turned around, heading back out the door when she called out for him. 

“Reid!” 

He stopped, turning back around. “What, Y/L/N?” 

“What is your problem with me?” She asked, exasperated. She was so tired of just accepting his mistreatment, and she refused to do it any longer. 

“I don’t have time for this.” He shook his head, turning to leave again. 

“Spencer Reid! You’ve made my life hell since I first joined the Bureau and god help me, you are going to tell me what your problem is!”

“My problem?” He countered, his jaw clenched. “My problem is you! Putting yourself in danger like that without a second thought for the consequences.” 

“The consequences? It turned out fine! My plan worked!” She bit back, voice rising. 

“It was stupid and reckless, you know better than that.” He spat, making Y/N scoff. 

“Why do you care?” She shouted frustratedly. “You can barely stand to be in the same room as me, and for the life of me Spencer I cannot figure out what it is that I did to make you hate me so much!”

Spencer’s defensive stance dropped, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find appropriate words. “Y/N, I know you think I do, but I don’t hate you.” 

She gave a humourless chuckle. “Yeah, well you could’ve fooled me.” She sighed, hands running over her face as she attempted to calm herself down. “I don’t understand why me putting myself in danger bothers you so much-”

“Maybe because I love you!”

The silence that fell between them only lasted a handful of seconds. Spencer, prompted by the look of shock on Y/N’s face, scrambled to explain himself. 

“I don’t hate you. I-I don’t really think I could if I tried.” He reiterated, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. “I’ve loved you since the day I first met you.”

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly so dry. “I don’t understand-“

“I’m so sorry, I know how poorly I’ve treated you. The only explanation I can offer is that I was so sure you wouldn’t feel the same that I thought it would be better to push you away than face rejection.” He whispered, moving closer to her, shame in his tone. 

“You love me?” She murmured in disbelief. The words barely left her lips, so faint and shaky that Spencer nearly hadn’t heard her. 

He laughed quietly, as though he was laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Yes, yes I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” 

He’d moved to stand before her, the two of them looking at one another in absolute awe that they both felt the same way. Spencer’s eyes trailed down to her lips, moving back up to meet her eyes. 

Y/N didn’t know how to respond, looking up at him incredulously. “Spencer..”

He bit down his lip, the words leaving his lips in a whisper. “Would it- would it be alright if I kissed you?” 

She was nodding before she’d even processed his words, and when his lips met hers- it was euphoric. Like they were simply meant to be. 

Perhaps Spencer Reid wasn’t that bad after all.

[jishyucks]

Eight Count ‣ lmh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn

‣ wc: 10.8k

‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners

‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!

i.

You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.

It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.

Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.

Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.

"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.

You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.

After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.

A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?

Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.

It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.

"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."

You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.

Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.

Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."

"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"

"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.

"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.

You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."

This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."

ii.

"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"

"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.

"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"

"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.

"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.

You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.

This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."

Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.

It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.

The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.

"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.

"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.

As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.

"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.

Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"

Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.

"What else do you think?"

Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.

"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.

"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.

"Easy for you to say," you sighed.

From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.

You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.

Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.

"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."

"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.

Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?

Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.

"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.

"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.

Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"

"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."

You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.

"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."

"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.

You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.

Right?

iii.

"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.

Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.

Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"

"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.

"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.

"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.

Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"

"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"

"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.

"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.

Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.

"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."

"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?

Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"

Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"

"I'm…?"

"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.

"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.

Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.

But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.

iv.

The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.

"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.

"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."

"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.

"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."

"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.

"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."

"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"

Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."

Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.

Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.

"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.

Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."

Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"

"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.

"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."

"But professor–"

Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.

Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.

At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."

"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."

The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.

"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.

The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.

"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.

"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.

"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.

"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.

Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.

Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.

"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.

"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"

You replied.

"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.

"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."

"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"

Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.

The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.

"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.

"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.

You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.

He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.

"Done staring at me yet?"

You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.

"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."

An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.

You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.

"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."

You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."

Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"

You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."

"And?"

"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."

"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"

"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."

"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.

"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."

"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.

"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.

The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.

Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.

Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.

The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.

Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.

He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.

"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.

You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.

"What the–"

"Join me!"

You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?

"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"

"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.

"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.

"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.

When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.

Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.

You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.

Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.

v.

There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.

Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.

When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.

"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"

Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.

This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?

Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.

Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.

"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.

He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.

As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.

"No one."

None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.

Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.

"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.

Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."

"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.

You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"

"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"

"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.

Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."

Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.

You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.

"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.

"You already know," you elbowed him.

Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."

You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"

"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.

"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"

Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.

"No," you say flatly.

"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."

When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.

-

"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.

"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.

The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.

Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.

Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.

You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"

You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"

"Studying?"

"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."

Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.

Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.

"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.

Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"

"Just don't be loud."

Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.

You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.

The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.

Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.

"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."

He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.

"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.

"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."

Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'

vi.

Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.

There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.

"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.

"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.

You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?

Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.

"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.

Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.

"And?"

"And what?" Minho ridiculed.

"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.

Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"

The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."

Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"

"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."

"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.

"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."

"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."

"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"

"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.

Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.

"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.

"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'm not lying."

"You staring at me says otherwise."

"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"

Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.

-

Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.

You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.

"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."

You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."

She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.

The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.

You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.

You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.

You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.

You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.

"Y/N?"

Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.

"Minho? What in the world?"

He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."

"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"

Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.

"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.

"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.

"Weren't you just leaving?"

"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.

"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."

"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.

"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.

"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"

"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.

"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."

Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."

No judgment.

The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.

"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"

Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?

"Because you care."

You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"

"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.

How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.

You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"

"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."

"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.

"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.

"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.

Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"

There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.

"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?

"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."

"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.

"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.

"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"

"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.

Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.

His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"

Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"

Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."

Bonus:

"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.

"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."

"Well, you look very handsome."

Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.

"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.

He was right.

"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.

"We shall."

Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3

[lofitowns]

six facts

“ TWO THINGS I’LL FOREVER BE SURE OF, THE SUN WILL ALWAYS FALL FOR THE MOON AND I WILL ALWAYS FALL FOR YOU “

pairing. simeon x gn!reader

wc. 2.3k

summary. in which every time you see him, he overwhelms your senses (fluffvember 1/15)

an. i’m low key unprepared for this month,, BUT i’m really excited + taglist is in the comments. if you want to be on it, just message me :)

five things you know and the one thing you don’t

first; he touches you and you light on fire. your wrist blazes where his fingers feel your skin. the burn doesn’t show, but it’s hard to breathe with ash in your lungs. it’s so hard to breathe. you’re suffocating daily.

    The sound of your feet hitting the stone floor was the only thing echoing through the halls of RAD. You were currently struggling to stuff your books in your bag and run at the same time. You were late, very late. You should have been back at the House of Lamentations hours ago, but your review with your teacher had run late.

    You had a very important test coming up, and even with the curve they gave exchange students, you were struggling. Devildom history was not one of your strong suits.

    It finally dawned on you that there was no one to walk you home. Lucifer had insisted someone always be with you at night. Sometimes it seemed annoying, but walking home alone in the dark didn’t sound too fun.

    You pulled your DDD out as you rounded the corner, only to be met with a warm chest. You flew back, landing hard on the group with a pained groan. You heard a small chuckle above you, causing your gaze to snap up. Simeon. A sheepish smile tugged at your lips.

    “Oh... Hey, Simeon,” You greeted, your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Of course, you had to run into him.

    He laughed at you again, reaching his hand out to help you stand, “What are you still doing here?”

    “I stayed to get some extra help. I didn’t realize how late it’d gotten. I was about to call one of the brothers to pick me up,” You explained as he grasped your extended hand. Electric shocks flowed through your body, making you tingle from head to toe. Your eyes were blown wide, almost unable to make your legs move. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling of your chest squeezing becoming more and more prominent when he didn’t let you go.

    As he looked at you, you tried to focus on breathing. The sparks set off like fireworks in the pit of your stomach when he finally let your hand fall from his. The skin of your palm was on fire; you had to look down at it to make sure there wasn’t a burn.

    “Why don’t I just walk you?” He offered, to which you nodded, not trusting your voice. He turned around, and the two of you walked in step with each other. You were still trying to regulate your breathing when a realization hit you.

    “Wait, why are you still here?”

    “I had to come back. I forgot my homework in the classroom,” He admitted. The smile he sent you was breathtakingly beautiful. You let out a shallow laugh while your throat tightened.

    The heat of your hand was starting to die down as you walked, but then his fingers brushed against yours again. It was a pleasant warmth this time, something you didn’t mind feeling.

    The night was cool and calm; walking with him was something you could get used to. The house came into view all too quickly, and you nearly scoffed in disappointment. Halting next to the gate, Simeon swiveled to look at you. “Well, here we are! I hope you have a wonderful evening (y/n).”

    The heat of your cheeks spread to the tips of your ears. “You too, Simeon.” With that, he was off the way you came, and you were walking up the stone steps.

    The scolding later was worth being late.

second; it hurts to watch him. he shines. he’s brighter than the sun, he’s too beautiful for your eyes. it’s hard to look at him. it’s even harder to look away from him. you’re going blind.

    How can someone look so radiant doing homework? You didn’t think someone could be more breathtaking. His tanned skin had a soft glow from the dim lamplight, and it made your breath hitch.

    It hurt. Looking at him hurt. But your eyes were trained on him, and you couldn’t look away. It was like a drug. His presence made your heart palpitate and your palms sweat. His eyes flicked up, catching you in your daze. His smile was wide, teeth pearly white.

    “Have you finished the worksheet yet, (y/n)?” He questioned, quirking a brow. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You cleared your throat and shook your head. If you were honest, you hadn’t done much of the worksheet at this point. Since the moment you had stepped into his room, it was like you couldn’t avert your eyes.

    “Oh, no. I... I needed help on number 11,” You finally voiced, scooting the paper across the table to him. His eyes began scanning it, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he concentrated. A shallow sigh fell from your lips as you watched him.

    You tried to stay focused, you really did. He just made it incredibly difficult.

    “You were doing it right. You needed to add five instead of four,” He explained, pointing to the spot you messed up. Even his hands looked good. You never even paid attention to anyone’s hands. How could one person so striking be real?

    You nodded, taking your worksheet back, “Thank you.” His fingers brushed yours, and like the last time, you could feel the searing heat of his touch.

    His smile was dazzling. You could compare it to the sun; it made your skin warm and your eyes water. He deserved his own place in the sky where everyone could see him. He deserved to be worshiped. But you also wanted him to yourself. You wished the smile he gave you was made for only you.

    “Do I have something on my face?” He asked after holding your gaze, reaching a hand up to brush his cheek. You shook your head, dismissing his thought. “No, it’s... It’s nothing.”

third; your ears are tuned to his voice. you could pick him out of a sea of thousands. his voice makes pretty singers who sing pretty songs sound dull. his voice makes everything else ugly.

    Hanging out with Mammon was always eventful. He always seemed to be getting himself into trouble, no matter what he does. He begged you for days to go shopping with him. You repeatedly declined, knowing he had no money, and he would make you pay. But when he gave you those puppy dog eyes, you couldn’t say no.

    That was how you ended up walking down the dimly lit streets of the Devildom.

    You were struggling to keep up with the rambunctious demon as he kept running ahead to look at different storefronts. It didn’t take long to lose him in the crowd, but you figured he’d come and look for you eventually.

    Strolling by yourself wasn’t bad, but you always liked to have company. And you felt a little safer with at least one other person around. Since you arrived, there had seemingly always been a demon by your side. Your eyes were drawn to a particularly bright colored window. The inside showed beautiful necklaces and shiny watches.

    You weren’t standing there long before your ears caught a voice that sounded smooth, like milk and honey. It was gentle, melodious. It made your heart start beating at a rapid pace. Your head turned until you could see the angel standing there in all his glory.

    “It’s alright, Luke. I’m sure you’ll find it next time!” Simeon assured the smaller boy, setting a hand on his shoulder. Your breath caught in your throat as you listened to him laugh. The sweet sound sent shivers down your spine.

    “(y/n)!” Luke called when his eyes fell on your figure. This seemed to pull you from your trance, causing you to look at the shorter boy.

    “What are you doing out here by yourself? Did those demons abandon you here?” The blonde boy gasped, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. While he looked sweet, whenever the brothers were brought up, his face would scrunch in disgust. Except for Beel, he seemed to like Beel.

    “I was here with Mammon,” You told him, shifting your eyes from Luke to the tall figure behind him, “But he ran off. I’m okay on my own, though.”

    Simeon sent you a warm grin, “Well, you may join us if you’d like. We’re headed back to Purgatory Hall.” It sounded homey, like your favorite song. You’d do anything to keep hearing that sweet, sweet voice.

    So you agreed, taking your place to Simeon’s left. You knew Mammon would be mad at you later for leaving him, especially if he knew you ran off with the angels. You’d deal with that when the time came.

fourth; the color of his eyes is blue enough to drown in. he is turning you into a cliched love-wrecked being. you are drowning, always sinking. down, down, down.

    The beach was always a nice place to visit, especially the private beach of Lord Diavolo. The sun shined down warmly on your skin, and the cool ocean water lapped at your toes. It was a lovely day.

    And it was even better considering who you were with. The seven demon brothers were running ramped, each doing their own thing. You were also joined by your fellow human, Solomon, and the two angles.

    You closed your eyes and tilted your head up towards the sky, letting the light shine over you. A few seconds later, a presence appeared at your side.

    Simeon was standing next to you with a gentle kindness filling his features. A smile graced his face when you look back at him. “Enjoying yourself?”

    You nodded, a content smile gracing your lips. “Yeah, it’s a really nice day today. I’m glad we could all come out together.”

    By far, your favorite part of living in the Devildom was the connections you had made. Each of them had such distinct personalities that made them stand out. You couldn’t imagine your life without them anymore.

    The conversation flowed, but eventually, you couldn’t focus. Your eyes were staring into his, and they were such a deep sapphire. You could hardly concentrate on the words leaving his mouth. You didn’t think he could get more beautiful than he looked at that moment.

    You could compare his eyes to the sea spread out in front of you. They were deep and blue, holding both kindness and mystery. They shimmered in the sunlight, and you felt utterly helpless. You were drowning in them and couldn’t make your way out.

    Simeon noticed your lack of attention, of course. He stopped talking and began to take you in as well. He couldn’t deny how enamored he was by you. There had been something about you the moment you met that he couldn’t shake.

    He wanted desperately to love you, but he also knew what happened the last time an angel fell in love with a human.

    But maybe, just this once, he could indulge himself for a few moments.

fifth; you know him. you love him. through a thousand lifetimes, across millions of stars, you’d find him. you’d never leave. you love him. till death do you part.

    The night was quiet, and the lights were dimmed low; the soft melody of classical music filled your ears. You enjoyed having quiet nights like this. Nights, where there was nothing to do and you could just relax.

    But you felt far from relaxed. For one, you weren’t in your room. You weren’t even in the House of Lamentations. You were currently sitting on Simeon’s bed, brushing shoulders with him as warmth crept up the back of your neck.

    It was becoming painful. You didn’t think love was supposed to feel painful. Whenever he touched you, you burned. Whenever you looked at him, you felt like you were drowning. You felt so drawn to him that being separated made your heart ache.

    You knew that if you didn’t tell him soon, you’d combust. You could feel the searing desperation bulging at your seams.

    So you looked at him again. His eyes were focused on the book in his lap; it was one he had just started. He had explained to you earlier that it was about a boy and a girl that began as friends. This soon led to them getting closer and closer until they blossomed into something more.

    You wondered how it felt. What it would be like to love and be loved in return. You felt your throat tighten at the thought. It took you a few moments to regain your composure. And when you did, you spoke.

    “Hey, Simeon?”

    He could listen to you talk forever, he decided. Your voice was music to his ears, even more beautiful than the sound of all the angels in heaven singing. Your smile made his heart twist in a way it never had before. You were radiant.

    “Yes, (y/n)?”

    Your heart hammered against your ribs as his eyes met yours. You could back out right now, and things would be fine. But what if he happened to feel the same way you did? That would surely make all this pain worth it.

    “I just... I just thought I should tell you something,” You paused in an attempt to gather your thoughts. Should you just come out and say it? Should you hint at it? The patient smile on his face made your thoughts scramble.

    “Simeon, I’m in love with you.”

    The words came out easier than you had thought they would. They fell out, and there was nothing you could do about it now. You looked away, not wanting to see his reaction. You didn’t think you could take it if he looked disgusted. But this is Simeon. He wouldn’t do that. Would he?

    A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest when you turned away. He reached a hand up to cup your jaw and turned you to face him again.

    The look in his eyes and the smile on his face gave you everything you needed to know.

sixth; he loves you too.

     thank you for reading :) have a good day!

[akaashisupremacy]

Heads or Tails

Summary: A handsome stranger approaches you in a bar while you wait for a friend. Can you get to know him well enough before the night ends?

Notes: For Mattsun’s birthday celebration lol. Read till the end if you want Makki to make you swoon 👀

HQ Masterlist || Multi-fandom Masterlist

Matsukawa  x reader  

genre: Fluff, mystery??  (wc: 600)

“Hey gorgeous,” a handsome stranger slides into the stool next to yours, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh, I’m kinda waiting for a friend. I’m sorry I’m not looking to be picked up tonight.” You look up from your book, waving your hands apologetically.

He’s handsome with dark, loose curls and a broad muscular frame. Despite his tall frame, he has an easygoing devilish smile and seductively slanted eyes.

“Can I at least keep you company while you wait?” he offers, ordering a beer.

“I guess you can,” you shrug, hands still wrapped around your book, “You here often?”

“Often enough to tell that this isn’t your regular place.” he answers cheekily.

“I’m not really into bars.” you admit, closing your book, a small smile forming at your lips. You try not to stare at him. It’s way too easy for you to get absorbed into his languid manner.

“So tell me about yourself. What’s your usual spot like?” he gestures to the bartender for a drink for you.

———————————————————————————

Your friend doesn’t show up after an hour. Although you don’t mind too much, you’re starting to get hungry for real food and not the stuff they serve in bars.

“I don’t think my friend is coming.” you sigh, taking a sip of your drink.

“Too bad.” he pouts. The look on his face has no sympathy for your friend though. That much is transparent.

“Well, I kind of want to get out of here, so maybe talk to you another time?” you note, cocking your head at him.

His face is so close to yours, eyes boring into you as you speak. You’re trying hard not to timidly look away.

“Let’s keep things interesting before you go,” he smirks, bringing out a coin, ”Heads, you give me your number. Tails, you kiss me but no number.”

“A kiss?” you repeat dubiously despite your amusement.

“Yeah, you look like a good kisser.” he winks.

“You look like a good kisser.” you quietly murmur, drawing circles on his forearm with your finger, “I’m alright. Nothing too fantastic has been the general consensus.”

He lets out a low laugh which stirs something in the pit of your core.

“I mean, only one way to find out.” his eye glints as he leans in even closer.

He flips the coin. Tails.

You place one hand on the side of his cheek and press your lips to his. He opens his mouth to draw you in for another kiss then another and a fourth one after that.

His lips are warm and his scent musky. Did the night with him really have to end here?

“Do you maybe wanna come home with me?” he murmurs in your ear, hands sliding to your back, “Since you’re not really busy anymore.”

You don’t even think twice. You arch your back when you press one last kiss onto his neck, “Sure.”

——————————————————————

“Are we really heading home already?” you ask Mattsun when you step outside the bar, “I’m feeling munchy.”

You think about the home you share with him and how there was currently no food in the fridge.

“I’m actually kind of hungry, too” he shrugs, “Wanna stop by our usual diner? We can get that pork broth soup that you like.”

Mattsun tugs at your hand as he talks. He does this whenever he feels enthusiastic. You felt it was cute when you first noticed it a couple of years ago when you started dating.

“Sounds good,” you smile, “All that flirting worked up an appetite.”

“For me?” he smugly grins.

“Among other things.”

General taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumithings @holaaaf​ @glxar @francxsca

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! :D

[liibrii]

Chapter 3: In the light, your name

Ojiro Aran x fem!reader

Series Masterpost || Ch. 1 || Ch. 2

wc: 4.7k

warnings: time skip spoilers, swearing, internalised guilt and shame, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, drinking.

a/n: this only took forever cause I got carried away (what a surprise). if you wanna be tagged in future chapters lemme know, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! 

A step forward, two steps back. Like a dance, just like his mother taught him, dancing and laughing back home, only this dance holds no joy, only cruel turns and twirls and your hand slipping from his as fate whisks you away.

“One Ace special coming up!“ Osamu places a plate of freshly made onigiris in front of Aran. They look amazing, as if taken directly out of one of those fancy cooking books. The practice had been especially gruelling that day and yet Aran has no appetite. All he wants is to go home and sleep. He would have, if Gao hadn't dragged him to the newly opened Tokyo branch of Onigiri Miya.

More out of politeness than really being hungry he takes a bite. It's good, much better than ones he remembers Osamu bringing to practice. “Woah, this is tasty!“

Osamu practically beams at Aran's praise. Even he has changed, notices Aran. Has he grown a little? The grey of his hair is gone, and he smiles so much more. Aran doesn't remember ever seeing him so talkative.

Has everyone changed so much while he wasn't paying attention?

While chewing he pulls phone from his bag, in some silly hope there'd be a message from you. But the screen is empty and seeing his screensaver is almost a mocking to his hopes. What else did he expect? People don't always mean what they say, but a storm doesn't mean to blow away roofs either.

Lost in his thoughts Aran barely takes notice when Gao says his goodbye and other customers slowly start leaving.

Osamu closes the shop then places two more cans of beer on the counter. Without much enthusiasm Aran opens the can and pours the fizzling liquid into a glass. Which drink was it, third? Fourth? For a moment he considers telling Osamu everything. About you, how he feels and how he screwed up. Just to get it out there. But Aran knows Osamu talks to Atsumu, and Atsumu never learned what keeping a secret means. So he blames his sour mood on practice.

 Even if Aran was a good liar Osamu'd see through his little ticks. They've been the same ever since elementary school and so obvious; the nervous scratching of his nails, rubbing of his neck. Ever since he'd grown a beard he added rubbing it to the list.

“I should probably get goin',“ says Aran before downing half the glass in one long gulp.

“What's a few more minutes?“ Osamu doesn't bother pouring his beer. “I'll clean up later. Don't have any other plans anyway.“

A low chuckle leaves Aran's lips. “Life goin' that good, yeah?”

“Could say that. Could be far worse. How about ya?“

Aran massages his temples. He's getting light headed and still he takes another long sip. “Like ya said, could be far worse. Had a rough couple weeks. Women, ya know?“

Osamu hums and nods, wisely. “Women. Got dumped, did ya?“

“In a way...“

“What happened, did ya forget her birthday or somethin'?“

Aran laughs. Oh no, he knows exactly when your birthday is. “Said somethin' stupid.“

“Just somethin'? If she gets upset so fast then maybe she's trouble.“

“Wasn't like that. She trusted me and I... had a bad day and took it out on her.“

Osamu takes an onigiri Aran hasn't touched yet. “Have ya apologised?“ He asks with his mouth full. “Should start with that,“ he continues after Aran shakes his head, “treat her to dinner. I know some good restaurants if ya want. Or better, cook somethin' yerself.“ He opens the browser on his phone. “What's her favorite food?“

Aran tells him. “Whichever recipe ya find I can tell ya right now I can't cook it.“

“I found a few even Tsumu can make,“ laughs Osamu still scrolling through his phone. “What's she like? More into fancy stuff or more homey? Fried rice's easy but not very fancy, more of a safe bet. Maybe with an omelette. I can show ya how to make it to look like a panda. Success guaranteed!“

“How can omelette look like a panda? It's yellow.“ 

“A yellow bear then,“ Osamu shruggs before putting away his phone. “Does she like bears?“

“Does- I ain't sure...“

“Ya don't know?“

“No! Why would I? Is that what ya ask folk ya take on dates?“

“Usually I ask what they think about apple curry.“

“I don't think she likes apple curry... Or maybe she does...“ He gloomily stares at the empty glass in front of him. “Gimme one more.“

Osamu obliges and pours him one more, deciding this is the last one for him. Aran's eyes are getting glassy and he dreamily observes the white foam before downing half the glass.

“We went down to the Kamakura beach,” he says, scratching at his immaculate fingernails. “She looked s' pretty in the sunset... She likes sunsets... I think. Ain't sure 'bout anythin' these days.“

“Everyone likes sunsets,“ nods Osamu. “Never trust people who don't like seein' sunsets. I'm tellin' ya, buy her some udon. Or bring her here, I'll give ya a special discount.“

Aran bursts into laughter. “He'll know then...“ Osamu leans his head to the side, wondering what his old teammate meant by that. “She's ex of a friend.“

“Ow,“ is all Osamu says. That explains everything. You don't date a friends' ex. “Sorry. She sounds great.“

“Yeah, yeah she is... Kinda almost like a whasit's called again, kotatsu? Warm...“ He's just blabbering now, his mind a hazy labyrinth of disconnected thoughts. He misses you, he misses you so bad, and he fucked up, and he doubts cooking you a dinner would repair the damage he's done. Once it would be pretty easy to bribe you with the right snacks but you've changed. You've changed so much he still fears he doesn't know you at all. “Hey Samu? Hav' I changed?“

“Yea? I doubt the old Aran-kun wouldda come to me for advice.“

Corners of Aran's lips perk up. Why is his glass empty? “Yer a good guy ‘Samu. Can ya call me a taxi? I've got practice t'morrow.“

He has to stop visiting Onigiri Miya on the evenings Aran thinks on another morning after drinking and talking with Osamu till late night hours. The cool breeze of the early morning hours is refreshing but isn't doing anything to ease the hammering in his head. Sky without a cloud promises the day to be sunny and hot. Aran's just glad he found his sunglasses ad that the gym has air conditioning.

There's a distant ringing in his ears. Ringing that doesn't stop and causes other people on the train to send him sideway looks. It's because his phone is ringing but he's too focused on trying not to throw up to notice. He only does so once he's walking the short walk from the train station to the gym. Seeing your name over the 'missed call' almost makes him drop the phone. He calls you back, frantically tapping his fingers on his arm, hoping you'll pick up. You don't.

The sun is too bright. Pouring rain would be more appropriate to his mood. Aran's glad he can hide from the warm rays inside the gym. No matter his mood volleyball always takes his mind off things, and even now he hopes it will help him see things more clearly. The thought of you has become a wind chime, singing at every little thing that makes him think of you. Staying focused on the ball in front of him is harder than expected. But first and foremost he's a professional volleyball player with a new season just around the corner. He can't let his team, his fans down. Since your first year of high school you've been his supporter too. He can't let you down.

When his phone rings again he’s in the middle of receiving drills and this call too goes unanswered. Instead your message waits for him.

           (9. 45) Aran are u free this Sunday? the shrine down the street is holding a festival. wanna come?  

A wide smile spreads over his face. He's more than happy to come he writes back, his smile spreading even wider when only a few moments later you text him place and time.

“Ojiro what are you looking at?“ Gao peers over his shoulder and Aran quickly puts his phone away.

“Nothin'“

“Nothing, ey? Does the nothing have a name?“

Aran rolls his eyes and heads for the showers, ignoring the teasing laughter of his teammates. Honestly, he's too excited to see you to care.

Aran glances on his phone to check the time. Five more minutes and he'll be only ten minutes early. He kicks the small stone form the pavement onto the road. Then he straightens his shirt. Maybe this colour wasn't the right choice after all, maybe you would've liked the red one better. Once in passing Akagi said red looked good on him. He sends you a short message, letting you know he's already here.

Minutes later he catches the sight of your figure manoeuvring between visitors flocking towards the many stands. “Sorry, I got worried all the best mochi'd sell out,“ you apologise, pointing to plate full of different kinds of mochi in your hand. “Samu isn't here yet?“

“No.“ His heart clenches. He didn't even think about the possibility of you inviting anyone else. “He's probably just late,“ he quickly adds, “let me call him.“

“Always late,“ you complain, “tell him I got his mochi but if he doesn't appear soon I'll just eat them myself. Want one?“

He declines the sweet and you shrug. While he waits for Osamu to pick up he avoids looking at you. The call goes unanswered. “I'll send him a message.“

“Tell him every minute he's late is a free onigiri,“ you mumble, your mouth full of delicious mochi. “And he's paying for drinks. I saw a stand with soya smoothies up the street. And a stand with takoyaki.“

“Have ya mapped out all the food stands?“ chuckles Aran.

“Well you know Samu, food is his best motivator. You sure you don't want one?“

He gives in and takes the matcha one. He watches with a fond smile as you stuff an entire mochi in your mouth.

“What?“ you mumble when you catch him staring.

“Ya look like a hamster.“

You roll your eyes in an effort to cover the smile creeping on your face. “Very funny. How's life?“

“It's fine,“ he nods, awkwardly.

“Good.“

“Yeah.“ He rubs his chin. The beard is getting a little long. He glances over at you. He should say something. But what? “I'm really sorry about what I said,“ he finally utters. “I do care. About you.“

“We all say things we don't mean, right?“ The soft look in your eyes makes his throat tighten. He hurt you and yet here you are. Reaching out, again. “It's all water under the bridge. Besides, I really missed hanging out with you. So, where do ya wanna go?“

“Shouldn't we wait for Osamu?“

“Nah. It's his fault for being late, he'll find us. And he better buy us those smoothies. Want one more mochi? You should really try the chocolate one, it's amazing.“

Never again. Aran doesn't want to see you hurt ever again.

The festival is crowded, which is to be expected in Tokyo, and he keeps an eye out for you. The last thing he wants is to lose you somewhere in the sea of people. He stays close, quietly delighting in seeing your excitement over different attractions of the festival. A few times your hand brushes against his, sending a shiver down his spine.

Osamu never shows up, messaging about an hour later he got stuck at work, promising you both as many onigiri as you'd like the next time you come around Onigiri Miya. “A shame. I was hoping to hang out with him while he's still in Tokyo.“

“He'll have time in the future,“ says Aran, doing his best to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.

“Probably. But will there be fresh soya smoothie for him to treat me to?“

Aran buys you the smoothie you so crave, grinning upon seeing your excitement. You walk around the festival grounds and from time to time he steals sips of your smoothie. You pout and nag he should buy one for himself but don't stop him. 

As night falls you search for a good place to watch the fireworks from. Just after they start Aran puts his hand on the small of your back to gently push you forward so you'd see better. But you don't budge and he bumps into you, his chest to your back. The sounds of festival fade, as if the crowd disappeared and all that remains is you, looking at him, fireworks reflecting in your eyes. The softness of your gaze causes his heart to do somersaults. You snicker and flick his nose.

Tease, he thinks and tickles you. He wishes he could properly put his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. He wishes he was here as more than just your friend. He wishes he alone would be enough of a reason for you to always have the same soft look in your eyes.

But if Kita, the perfect Kita Shinsuke, Kita who knew you better than anyone wasn't enough, how could he be?

His hand lingers on your arm for a heartbeat longer. He could try, he could always love you with all he has and hope you'd love him back, hope he could be enough. But if he failed... he'd only hurt you more, wouldn't he? And you've been hurt enough.

During lunch break his phone rings and his hearts jumps, hoping it's you. But instead Osamu's name is written over the screen. A bit disappointed Aran picks up.

“Aran-kun whatcha doin' this Saturday?“ Not even a'hello'. So many years and still so rude.

“Practice till afternoon, then watchin' a movie.“

“Amazin'! Want some company?“

A boys' night out? Why not? It would be nice to spend some time with someone who wasn't his teammate. “'Course.“

Osamu laughs. “Knew ya would. I happen to know someone interested in a blind date. I'll tell her to meet ya at the cinema.“

“What? Osamu I'm not really one for blind dates-“

“The ex of a friend. She's Kita-san' ex, isn't she?“ Aran's silence is an answer enough. “Ya asked me for advice. This is it, go out, try meetin' someone else. Whatever you want to have with her it won't end well.“

Aran knows. He knows all that. He knows you returning his feelings would be the worst case scenario. Sooner or later he'd have to tell Kita. “I know,“ he says. “I know that.“

Osamu doesn't answer immediately, waiting if Aran will add anything else. “Just go on this one date, see how it goes.“

“I'll think about it.“

He does think about it. The entire day in fact. Meeting someone new would be nice and who knows, she might be the one he's waiting for. A part of him, the guilty part that's been way too loud in the past weeks, stays firmly against the idea. Searching for the right one when you're right here. What if this blind date is just a crazy fan who somehow found her way to meeting him? And what about you, it asks? It would be cruel wouldn't it, leading you on while going on dates behind your back.

But he isn't leading you on, Aran argues with the voice inside his head, you're just a friend anyway. He cares about you yes, but only as a really good friend. Osamu is right, you should never be more than that. You're Kita's ex. And you don't date your friend's ex. So why break his heart further?

           (17.48) I'll go on the date. send me time and place.

That's the thing about making plans, the moment you make them something else comes up. Just the following day his phone rings, making his heart flutter when he sees your name.

“Hey.“ Your voice alone makes him smile. “I, uhm, I have a request.“

No beating around the bush. It makes Aran wonder if you've been hanging with Osamu so much you picked up his habits. “Oh, do ya?“

“Yeah. It’s is a bit awkward... Listen, I have a very important exam next week but my roommate's gonna have her boyfriend over for the entire weekend. Let's just say earplugs aren't helping and leave it at that, yeah? So, could I maybe crash at your place till then? I just need a quiet place to study. I can sleep on the couch! Or the floor, I really don't care!“

“'Course ya can,“ says Aran without hesitation.

This is how we finds himself sitting with a bunch of your notes in his lap, you leaning on his back explaining one of the questions. There are at least 4 empty mugs on the desk of his living room. He hopes you've left some coffee for breakfast.

He's amazed by how naturally you fit into his life. Almost like the space beside his shoes in the closet was meant for yours and the jacket hanging beside his was always meant to be there. You've even found your favourite mug already. The bedroll on the floor of the living room is the only reminder you're only crashing at his place for a couple of days. If you asked he'd let you stay longer.

The next morning you wake up the same time as him, sipping your first cup of coffee for the day, half asleep and draped in the hoodie he strategically left on the counter last night. You don't even raise a brow when he takes your phone and asks you to unlock it. “I'll send ya a playlist. Just some classical music. It's good for studyin'.“

“Sure,“ you answer in a groggy voice. “Have fun bouncing the ball around,“ you wave him off when he gets ready to leave.

Your sleepy face makes him smile for the rest of the day. Practice runs longer than usual and he returns late, stepping over two stairs at the time. The lights are still on when he enters but there's no answer when he calls out. He finds you behind the desk, so absorbed in your notes you don't notice his approach. When he places his hands on your shoulders you jump and shriek. “Aran!“ You remove your headphones. “Do you want to give me a heart attack?!“ He laughs and you smack his leg before he sits on the floor beside you.

“Is the material so interestin'?“ He looks over your many notes and pushes an empty mug to the edge of the table.

“I was listening to music,“ you rub your eyes. He notices they look a bit reddish. He takes your phone and clicks the play button and music continues. It only takes him a moment to recognise the piece.

“Dmitri Shostakovich, Waltz number 2. My mom's favourite. Used to dance to it with dad every Thursday.“

“That's sweet.“

He stands up and offers you his hand. “Come, ya need a break.“

You take his hand without question, only raising your brow when he places his left hand on your back. “Ya have to put your hand on my shoulder,“ he grins to your more than apparent confusion.

“Oh, right,“ you mumble. “I can't really dance you know. Not waltz at least.“

He gently holds your right hand in his and gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Don't worry, I'll teach ya. I start with my right foot forward, ya step back with yer left, yep, just like that, then my left foot forward,“ you jump in surprise when he turns you around, “and the first turn, now yer right foot forward, then left, and turn. See, it ain't hard.“

“Easy for you to say,“ you disagree, your eyes fixed on his feet and your mind preoccupied with trying not to step on his toes.

“Just follow my lead,“ grins Aran, gently pulling you a little closer.

He counts the steps and beats in his head and step after another you relax and follow his lead. All those Thursdays when dad wasn't home and mom pulled him into taking his place are finally paying off.

“I didn't know you could dance so well.“

Aran laughs at your words and gently pushes you into a twirl under his arm. “I guess there's a lot ya don't know,“ he says when he pulls you closer again. 

You follow his steps and soon begin catch on the slightest of his moves. Music changes but you don't let go so you dance on through his living room, off beat and saying quiet 'Sorry's,' every time you step on his toes. The way your brows furrow when you mess up is adorable but Aran doesn't give you the time to ponder over the mistake, pulling you into the next turn with ease and certainty of someone who has danced these steps countless times.

When the last song ends Aran leaves his hand on your back. You're so close, your hand in his. Looking and smiling at him. His eyes linger on your lips. It would take so little to close the space between you. So little that would change so much.

He pulls away.“ Do ya want tea?“

“Don't I always?“ you muse and head to put the water on, then open the cupboard but the last cups stand on the highest shelf and even on your tiptoes you can't reach them. Aran gently pushes you to the side and reaches for them. “Here.“

He pours himself a glass of water then pulls his phone out to check the time. Shit. The blind date. That's today! He glances over at you, making your tea, humming the melody of the last song you danced too. His heart drops.

What is he doing? He can't... This is getting out of control. He clenches the glass tighter. You're so close, he wouldn't even have to fully extend his arm to tap your shoulder. If, right here and now, he told you how he feels, how would you react? He lifts the glass to his lips. Probably not in the way he wants you to. A leap of faith, one that could take him anywhere. To the love of his life, he thinks watching you stir, or to the stone to shatter the friendship you both tried so hard to rebuild. A risk he doesn't have the courage to take.

The half empty glass he leaves in the sink draws your attention. You watch Aran head for the bedroom and you don't think much of it. It's his apartment, he can do what he wants. It's only when almost ten minutes pass that you decide to poke your head through the door to see what he's up to. The clothes he's wearing certainly aren't what one would wear for staying at home. “Going somewhere?“ you ask, curious as to why he's wearing a pretty alright polka dotted shirt.

“I have a date.“ He awkwardly fixes his collar. He doesn't want to meet your eyes.

There's a short silence before you answer. “A date? In this shirt?“

Your judgemental tone makes him turn. “What's wrong with this shirt?”

You scrunch up your nose. “It gives you that,“ you wiggle your fingers, “successful businessman in his forties looking for a wife vibes.“

“What's wrong with that?“

“What's wrong with-?! Aran! You're a professional athlete!“ You enter his bedroom and start looking through the closet. “Don't you get invited to fashion shows and stuff? One would expect you'd get some fashion sense purely through osmosis. Ouch!“ you yelp when he playfully smacks your shoulder. “Here, this one.“ You hand him a shirt of dark violet colour.

He takes it from your hands and inspects it. Then he hands it back. “I like this one better. And I'm runnin' late already anyway.“

You shrug and hang it back. “As you wish Mr. CEO. Wait, are you bringing your date back here?! Shit, I need to clean up my stuff.“

“Relax. I'm not bringin' anyone back. It's a blind date anyway. Ya keep studyin' alright? I'll be very disappointed if ya don't get the highest mark.“

“What do you mean a blind date? Damn, I didn't expect that from you player boy,“ you tease and it's a distraction enough for Aran to miss the forced smile.

“Osamu's idea.“

A small “Ah,“ is all you reply at first. “Get going then, being late is the worst you can be on the first date!“ You push him out of the room. “Have fun, don't say anything stupid, and don't only talk about volleyball.“

“It's not my first date y/n, gosh, stop bein' such a mom. Why are ya so excited anyway?“

“Probably too much caffeine.“

When he returns you're still up. You have two cups of tea ready before he even takes his shoes off.

“So, how was it?“ You push the cup across the table. “Come on, come on, no need to be shy,“ you grin, “tell me!“

Aran rolls his eyes at your sudden excitement. “It was nice, but nothin’ special,“ he tells you.

“Just nice?“ You tap your fingers on the table. Aran recognises the rhythm, it's one of your favourite songs. You sent it to him a few days ago. “Dating must be harder now that you're famous,“ you say, absent-mindedly. “Or is it easier?“

Before answering he takes a cracker from the bowl on the table. “Harder,“ is the answer he settles on. “Ya never know if they're attracted to ya or yer status. What about ya?“ He focuses on chewing crackers and taking small sips of tea, anything to keep from glancing at you.

“Ah you know,“ you sigh, “have enough other problems at the moment. College is messing with my head enough already. Why put another person in the mix?“ This time Aran doesn't miss how your voice trembles, and how you rub your forehead. Maybe you just have a light headache. You do look exhausted.

He changes the subject, feeling the talk of dating is quickly approaching dangerous territory. “How are ya feelin'? With studyin' and all?“

You lean on your hand. “Could be much worse. It's just a lot. Probably should have started with studying earlier.“

“But with work ya didn't even have enough time, right? Don't be too hard on yerself.“

“Actually, I quit. I thought it would help me focus on studying,“ you say upon seeing his questioning gaze.

“Ya know what will help ya study better? Some good night's sleep.“ He takes your empty cup. “I'll do the dishes, ya go ready for bed. No talkin' back,“ he points his finger to your face, “ my house, my rules. No stayin' up past midnight.“

“It's one in the morning.“

“Past time for ya to go to bed then young lady.“

After that you don't protest and before he even finishes doing the dishes you're snuggled on your bedroll and half asleep. Seeing you fills him with warmth. He could get used to this, coming home to you every night. He turns the lights off.

When he lays in his bed he wonders what's with the sinking feeling in his chest. There's anger. Why were you so excited for his date in the first place? Why did you look almost disappointed when he said it was nothing special? He hugs his pillow, thinking he'd much rather it was you in his arms. You must be soft. If only you'd be here, his nose filled with the scent of your shampoo. Teeth of shame sink in his heart. Why does he have to feel like this?

He wants you to be jealous. It's so damn childish, he knows that. It's something his teenager self felt when you hugged Kita after a game but only gave him a high five and a head pat.

How long is he going to keep lying to himself? He's in love with you. Not the you he remembers. You here and now. You sipping your fourth cup of coffee, you frantically flipping through notes wearing one of his old hoodies. That at least hasn't changed; you still steal any hoodie you can get your grabby little hands on. Not steal, he corrects himself, borrow. You borrow them. For an undetermined period of time.

He buries his face in the pillow. You're not the always cheerful manager he remembers anymore. But you are still you.

Tag list: @aonenthusiast @rosecaffelatte @kara-grayson04

[smol-and-grumpy]

Light My Fire - CH09

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: All the fluff

WC: 2818

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​ <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST 

BECOME A PATRON ~ BUY ME A COFFEE

Sam and Dean show up about thirty minutes later, right when she finishes her fourth gin. 

They make a beeline to where she and Ruby are sitting, grab themselves some chairs that were standing around unoccupied and sit themselves next to them. Someone is singing Bohemian Rhapsody and people are cheering along.

“Hey,” Dean greets them both, looks from Ruby back to her, before he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over his chair. He folds his shirt up to below his elbows and Sam follows suit. 

God, they really look so good, both of them. They really put all the other men in here to shame. And the women are talking behind their backs.

“Hey, how was the meeting?” She asks, and sees Dean rolling his eyes, it’s the answer to her questions, she knows. And she frowns because she’s a little scared that they might lose after all. 

Dean notices the change in her face, leans in to place a kiss on her cheek before he rests his head on her shoulder. He mumbles to her, “We got this, don’t worry.”

“More drinks?” Sam asks into their round, and beckons the waitress over. 

Both she and Ruby nod their heads.

“You want more?” Dean asks her with one raised eyebrow, “Or will you be too drunk?”

“Hey, I’m not drunk.” She says but she thinks that he can see it in her cheeks that she’s very tipsy. Maybe she’s already drunk, she doesn’t know. The line’s very slippery between tipsy and drunk. One misstep and she’ll be on the other side.

“Liar,” Dean shrugs with a grin, “I’ll allow one more. I need you sharp tonight.”

Before she could even ask what he meant by that, he had ordered her a drink and they began to talk about other things. 

It’s when Sam suddenly stands up to walk to the front that they all started to cheer for him. 

Sam walks to the DJ and whispers something to him before he walks back and grabs the mic. He clears his throat, and she can’t help but laugh.

“Oh no,” Dean groans, feeling second hand embarrassment, and he shows the waitress a sign before ordering two more drinks for himself. “Gotta get on your level to enjoy this,” He whispers to her.

The music starts and everyone starts cheering. 

And then they’re waiting for Sam to start singing, “I believe in miracles,” Sam sways his hips, “Where you from, you sexy thing,” He winks at Ruby and she can swear that her friend whimpers and squirms in her seat.

“I believe in miracles, since you came along, you sexy thing,”

Y/N’s full on laughing and Ruby blushes. 

Sam takes off his tie and swings it around.

“Oh, man,” Dean rubs at his face and she has to laugh at him.

While Sam’s singing, Dean places his hand on her thigh, strokes it up and down and leans closer, rubs his nose along her cheek, “How are you feeling?”

She tilts her head to him and he catches her lips, kisses her soft and tender. His hand cups her face. 

He grins when he parts, strokes the pad of his thumb along her cheek and she smiles, too. “Light headed, but good,” She answers him.

Dean looks at her, presses his lips into a playful grin, “Not too drunk for what I’m going to tell you, I hope.”

“I’m listening,” Her heart thumbs in her chest, curious but also a little scared of what he has to tell her.

He leans closer to whisper into her ears, “I’m taking you on a honeymoon.”

“Dean, no,”

“Dean, yes,” He chuckles.

“But the court thing?” She raises her eyebrows, frowns a little too.

“It was Sam’s idea,” Dean jerks his head to the front where Sam finishes his song and they paused their conversation to clap and cheer for him.

When Sam walks back, he sits down with one hand draped on Ruby’s chair and she’s basically all over him, looking at the younger Winchester with heart eyes.

“So,” Dean drapes his arm over her chair as well and one hand is still on her thigh, “What do you say? We leave on Saturday. Ten full days.”

“Dean, you really don’t have to.”

He lets out a huff of air, “It’s good if we go. Someone will notice us, they’ll see us on our honeymoon,”

“Someone will notice you, you mean.”

Because that’s the way it is. People recognize him sometimes, and they don’t really care about her. But Dean might be right. If someone sees them it’s even better for their case.

“You’ll be recognized, too. So I have to make sure that it’s going to be alright for you.”

She bites on her bottom lip, thinks long and hard. 

Suddenly Ruby’s laughing and she watches her friend get up to walk to the mic.

“Oh, no,” She clasps her hand over her mouth and Dean laughs while Sam claps his hand and lets out a loud whistle.

The music starts playing and Ruby turns her freak on when she sings, it’s when she gets to the chorus where it gets wild, “I wanna kiss you all over,” Ruby points her finger at Sam, winks at him, “And over again,”

“Oh my god,” She groans but Sam’s smiling from ear to ear.

Y/N turns her head to see if Dean’s laughing at Ruby too, and she finds him grinning. Instead of watching Ruby, though, Dean has been watching her. He lifts his one eyebrow as if he—

—oh, yes, he’s waiting for an answer.

“Uh, I don’t know, on Saturday? But work..”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll cancel everything and the ones I can’t cancel, I can do them in Jamaica.”

“Ja-what?!”

Dean chuckles, “You heard me,”

“No,”

“Yes,” He smiles, and her hand goes up to cup his face, she can feel the scruff pricking the palm of her hand, “You have a passport, right? Ruby told me you have one.”

“Yeah,” She nods. She does have one because she wanted one, not because she was going to go traveling. 

It’s her that kisses him now, and she teases her tongue along his teeth. Their tongues meet, it’s nothing like the kisses they shared before. It’s teasing, playful. It leaves her wanting more. And then she remembers. He wants to fucking take her to Jamaica!

“Okay,” She grins, pecks his lips, “Do you want me to book tomorrow?”

Ruby sings something off-key and they both have to look her way. 

Dean’s chuckling next to her ear, “Nah, I already sent Ruby the details this evening. You think she’ll be able to come to work tomorrow? Jesus, I can see her panties when she lifts her leg like that,” He turns his head to bury his face into the crook of her neck and she’s laughing, her hands go up to stroke the short hair on the back of his head.

“She’s a professional at work, you know that.” Y/N reassures him.

He looks up right when Ruby is finished and they clap for her. Sam even gets up from his chair, giving her a standing ovation. 

“Well, if Sam will let her go to work at all tomorrow,” Dean scoffs in the direction of his brother.

When the clapping and cheers die down, Dean whispers to her that they should go home and she agrees because it’s late. Dean gets up from his chair and immediately Sam shouts to the front that Dean’s the next singer.

Dean stands there, frozen, “What?!” He hisses at Sam and Sam just laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

Ruby joins in, calling out Dean’s name and Y/N can’t help to cheer with them. Dean sends her a glare and she immediately shuts up and tries to hold in her laugh.

“Come on, Dean!” Sam shouts out, clapping way too loud.

“Please?” Y/N looks up at Dean who’s still standing there, his hands in his pockets. 

“Y’all owe me,” He grumbles as he walks to the front and she wonders what song he’ll pick.

He walks to the DJ and after Dean whispers something to him, Dean turns around and looks into the audience. His eyes quickly find hers.

When the music starts, Dean grins and there are people cheering him on.

Oh, no.

Kokomo.

Dean looks at her when he sings, “Aruba, Jamaica, oh I want to take ya, Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama, Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go, Jamaica..”

Y/N starts to laugh and buries her face into her hands. 

When she looks up again, Dean’s still grinning while he sings. 

“Afternoon delight, cocktails and moonlit nights. That dreamy look in your eye, give me a tropical contact high..”

Dean finishes his song and to her surprise, he got the most cheers, and that of course, makes him so fucking proud because he’s smiling at everyone with that boyish smile of his.

“Now Y/N!” Sam says, and she looks over to send him a glare but instead of the glare, her eyes widen because Ruby sits on Sam’s fucking lap.

“Nah, I’m good.” She shakes her head. 

Dean walks over to weave his arm around her waist and kisses her temple, “Okay, let’s go,” He picks up his jacket and they are already turning around when Dean stops to turn back to Sam, “Good luck tomorrow, Sammy.”

Sam just lifts his hand to a salute.

Dean’s still humming when they sit in the Uber and she has to chuckle.

“You seriously still humming The Beach Boys?”

Dean groans, “Can’t help it. I have it in my head now.”

*

The ride in the Uber was kind of bumpy and when they arrived, she felt somewhat dizzy. In hindsight, maybe she shouldn’t have taken that last drink. 

Of course Dean has to notice and is quick by her side, “You okay?” 

She nods, “Yeah, just— maybe I had too much to drink.”

“Come on, let's get you inside,” He has one hand firm around her waist and helps her to the elevator.

Inside, Dean lifts her up to sit on the kitchen island and goes to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. He opens it and holds it out for her to take before he walks to his room wordlessly.

She wonders where he’s going but then she hears him walking back. He grabs her wrist and places two Tylenols into the palm of her hand.

“Take it and drink up,” There a frown etched deep in his face and he watches her as she downs the pills and drinks up the water. 

He picks her up after she drinks, carries her to her room she assumes, but then he opens up the door to his own bedroom.

“Dean, I need to clean my face and brush my teeth,”

“Right,” He mutters and backs out of his room to go into hers. He walks straight through to the bathroom but instead of setting her down, he lowers himself with her still in his arms, “Take the things you need,”

She doesn’t really know why she needs to take her things, but she does and has to laugh when her hand misses picking up the toothbrush twice.

“You got everything?”

“Uh-huh,” 

Dean walks her out and right into his room again. Oh my god, does he really want her to sleep in his room tonight?

He sets her down in his bathroom and tells her to get herself ready for bed before he walks out.

Y/N doesn’t feel like arguing, so she does what she’s told, and starts to clean her face. 

When she’s brushing her teeth, Dean walks in and sets something on the sink. She can’t really see because he’s now behind her and he is only in his underwear. Distracting is what it is.

Dean doesn’t push her aside but instead, he works around her, crowds her in as he reaches for his own toothbrush and begins to brush his teeth. She can see him watching her through the mirror.

She finishes and rinses her brush and Dean hurries to finish as well. He turns her around, cups her chin and makes her look up at him, “You feeling better?”

“Yeah,” She breathes out, because it’s true. After drinking so much water she feels much better already.

“Good,” He nods and then he begins to take off her dress. She didn’t wear a bra so as soon as Dean slips the dress over her head, she covers her boobs and Dean has to laugh at that, “Y/N, it’s really nothing I haven't seen before.”

Yeah, he might be right but still?

He takes the shirt he placed on the sink and pulls it over her head, lets her slip into the arms of the shirt.

“Let’s go to bed,” Dean’s already pushing her towards the door but she stops him. “What?” He asks with a frown.

She has to giggle at the worried look on his face, “I just drank so much. Where do you think it all goes?”

“Right,” He mutters, blushing a little too. She thinks it’s cute. Dean pats her shoulder before he walks out and she closes the door.

When she finishes and switches off the light, she needs to wait a couple of minutes for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. 

It doesn’t take long, only a couple of blinks to see Dean’s face bathed in moonlight. He looks good, like a perfect oil painting, the cover dragged half across his body. 

Dean lifts the covers, pats the space next to him, and she goes in willingly. How can she not?

He holds out his arm for her to lay her head on and she likes that, it makes her feel safe. She snuggles up to him, even after a tiresome day he still smells so good. It’s making her even more light headed. 

“Why am I sleeping here?” She has to ask for her own peace of mind.

Dean kisses the top of her head, “Because I wanna know that you’ll be okay in the night.”

After a while of silence, Dean starts to hum Kokomo and she lifts her head to glare at him, “Really, Dean?”

“I can’t help it,” He chuckles and turns to his side, drapes an arm around her waist. He noses at her temple and sings into her ear, “Aruba, Jamaica, oh I want to take ya,”

“Oh my god,” 

“Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama,”

“Are you really sure you can take the days off?” She tilts her head up, her nose meets his scruff.

“Super sure,” He leans back a little to look her in the eyes, “When was the last time you remember me taking days off?”

She pauses to think and yeah, he’s right, “Never?”

“Exactly, and if I remember correctly, you have only taken a couple of days yourself. Five, was it?”

How does he know? He must have looked into her records. 

“Yeah,” She says, “Mostly when Jack’s home from college.”

“So, we’ll go away, get tanned, drink cocktails and you always wanted to go there, haven’t you?”

It blows her mind that Dean remembers that conversation. It’s only yesterday that they spoke about it but still, she never thought he would put so much weight into her words. 

“Yeah,” She smiles.

“Good,” Dean grins and leans down to kiss her. It’s really tender and he’s playful with his tongue, teases her own tongue enough to make her whimper. He’s such a good kisser and she absolutely hates how addicted she is to him, “‘K let’s sleep. We have work tomorrow.” Dean pecks her lips once more and she lets out a frustrated groan which, in turn, makes him chuckle. 

With a last good night kiss, she turns around on her side and it’s not long until Dean finds his way to her, and spoons her from behind, his arm draped protectively around her. She can feel the bulge in his pants. He’s half hard, at least. Y/N can’t help but press her ass against his groin and she hears him hitching his breath.

“You should stop that.” One of his hands tight on her hip now, to keep her from moving.

“Why?” She sounds whiny but she doesn’t care. She blames it on the alcohol.

“Baby, because you’re still half drunk and I’m not doing you like this. Stop trying, you can’t change my mind.”

Wow, Dean definitely has more self control than she does.

“Fine,” She pouts.

“You know,” He says, blanketing her with his body as he makes himself comfortable, “I can’t remember if I’ve said it before, but I’m happy that it’s you.”

She can hear his even breathing behind her, and is thankful that he can’t see the blush in her face.

CH10

[prose-for-hire]

My loneliness is killing me

Pairing: Spike x fem!reader

Request: “Please can you do a spike x reader where spike comforts reader when she is sad and they are both lonely” 

Requested by: Anonymous 

Warnings: None?

WC: 957

You were alone. No, not just alone. You were lonely. You were on the peripheries of the Scooby gang as it was. They brought you in to help here and there but other than that, you were left to your own devices. This often meant a lot of free time waiting for the next stake-whittling session or the next big, bad book club meeting at the Magic Box. You got on with them well enough but sometimes when you saw them with their in-jokes and their gossip you got a little jealous. For the most part, it didn’t really bother you. They had a hive-mind that you didn’t need to get caught up in. But tonight, you were incredibly lonely. 

Devastatingly so, that you maintained a conversation with the formerly evil and currently annoying bleach-blonde vampire when he came to sit next to you. He did this often, you figured that it was because you were easy prey. The others never really spent free time with you which meant there was usually a spare seat beside you, almost as if it was being saved for him.

“Alright, pet? What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this” He smirked, this was his usual line. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t incredibly attractive and the man knew it, too. He enjoyed the way you shifted and scowled at him slightly. You had a reputation for being a little crabby with people at times, perhaps that’s why the Scoobies don’t invite you many places. 

“Drinking” You opted for stating the obvious, sipping on your alcoholic beverage of choice. He noticed the way your eyes seemed a little watery, the way you hunched over your drink as if you were clinging to an old friend.

“Cheer up, love, it might never happen…” he said softly, his head cocked to the side as he scrutinised your face. If it was anybody else you would have taken it for concern. But this was Spike.

“Huh?”

“Tell me, what’s going on in that mind of yours” He tapped the side of your head with two fingers, freshly painted black polish on his nails. You stared, almost crying at the contact of his fingers on your skin. Were you really that lonely? Had it been that long since someone had cared to ask or pressed their skin, even innocently, against yours?

“I’m lonely” you say quietly, busying your hands picking at the label on his empty bottle as he stared at you. That penetrating gaze, as if he was shocked at you being able to feel the emotion. He was quiet for a moment, a light frown as if he wanted to say something. As if he wanted to let you know he knew exactly how you felt. But apparently, he decided against that.

“I can show you a good time… you just had to ask” he smirked, taking a swig of the beer he had just been handed. 

“Thanks Spike, I can always rely on you” You sigh, getting yourself up from the bar ready to walk home. You tripped in your haste and Spike grabbed your arm before you could tumble to the ground.

“Better watch it, love, fallin’ in my arms like that… makes a fella wonder” He said, grasping your arm firmly until you pulled yourself from him. You were embarrassed and he could tell.

“Wonder what Spike?”

“A girl like you, fallin’ into a man’s arms? Doesn’t happen often” he said, a glimmer in his eyes. The way he looked at you sometimes, you could mistake him for a man. Not a vampire who had killed thousands and threatened you and your friends countless times. 

“Give it up, Spike you’re not using me to get to Buffy. I’m not that kinda girl” You stated and he raised an eyebrow. You knew if he wanted to get in with the Scoobies he would have chosen somebody that was actually in the Scooby gang but he didn’t want to make that apparent. Anyone else and he would have pointed it out, but he could tell it would hurt you. And he really didn’t want to do that. You stood just looking at each other, neither of you able to read the others expression before you decided to get out of there. Walking through the streets of Sunnydale or confronting your loneliness with a dead man? You’d take your chances with the monster of the week.

He caught up to you easily as you walked down the street, he kept glancing at you and when  you caught his eye the fourth time, you had to say something, “Just, leave it, Spike… I shouldn’t have said anything”

“No, love, you’re sad… I can see it eatin’ away at you” He said, a waver to his voice that seemed to point to concern.

“I’m just alone, that’s okay. I didn’t mean lonely. I’m used to it, really” You spoke, knowing it sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself more than him. There was a pause where he searched your face, almost looking embarrassed before willing himself to look you in the eye.

“Well, pet, I was just thinking… maybe we could be alone, together?” You both stared at each other for a moment, you unsure what kind of ulterior motive he had and Spike unsure why he had even offered. Maybe you needed each other. You nodded and he shrugged and then you walked around together for the rest of the night, until the sun threatened to come up. The loneliness in your chest forgotten and, unbeknownst to you, the loneliness Spike had been harbouring had been forgotten too.

[nanamismoonchild]

Result of the Eclipse

Summary: A prophecy that foretold the witches getting the patron of the Moon and her child spurred an uprising between the races of the witches, vampires, and wolves. Jealous rage fueled their fight, and soon the Moon had no choice but to separate the races. 

Pairing: namjoon x reader

Genre et Rating: vampire au, witch au, angst, fluff, mature

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of blood, a really bad spell (i’m sorry) 

A/N: I have not written in a looooong time, so when I started this, I couldn’t stop. I had to force myself to stop so I could work on an important assignment. So this will most definitely have a part 2! This was also part of the halloween event by @heartsforbtsnet​.  

There had been a time where the three races of supernaturals lived together in peace. It was centuries before the crowned prince and goddess met.  Stories were passed down from the old about special gatherings where drunken laughter and the occasional moans resounded through the streets of the town.  

But that was centuries ago and nothing but wild fairy tales to tell the children.  

The fight that ended the harmony between the wolves, the vampires, and the witches was a small but powerful one that would not heal on its own.  

The day the Moon gave herself over to the witches was the day that no one would ever see amity again.  The wolves and the vampires were jealous and jealousy is the ugliest emotion. It can make reckless decisions for oneself. 

“How can the Moon betray us like this? I thought we were her favorite,” the vampires hissed.  

“You? We are born under her light and become even more powerful than we know,” the wolves howled. 

The fighting soon began to become violent between the three races. Witches cast horrible curses to keep themselves safe from the poisonous bite of the vampire and the sharp canines of the wolves.  

The Moon took matters into her own hands and separated the races as sorrowful as it made her. She promised they would be reunited as one again when her princess was born and learned the ways of the witches.  

The vampires and wolves grumpily accepted and built their own cities while the witches prepared for the upcoming Eclipse that would bring them their most powerful goddess. Everything was peaceful.  

But that was centuries ago. 

 Namjoon waddled into his grandmother’s arms and gave her a kiss. He loved hearing the silly stories she told--no matter how sad or frightening they could be.  They were almost always about the old days before he was born. 

Many Eclipses had come and gone through the years he’s been alive, and, yet, no one had announced the new princess. But his grandmother always told him to believe and keep his mind open.  

But he didn’t need her to say that. He knew she was alive and well. And as the five-year-old he was, he just wanted to find her like a game of hiding and seek. He knew he couldn’t leave the cities’ limits though. So he only let himself believe and told no one about his intuition. 

His grandmother sent him to bed and kissed on the cheek. 

“Good night, my little prince. I feel there will be good news for you tomorrow.”

“Well then I need to sleep quickly, so tomorrow can come! Night!”

His grandmother smiled and left the room. Her little one could sleep through the night and even through the morning’s breakfast. There were times he would wake up the very next night and sleep an hour or two later. He was very keen to his vampiric nature even at such a young age. Luckily he had not a thirst for blood as others did.  

 The prince was awake the next morning, as he had promised. The noise level of the castle was more than what he was used to.  The servants were running around with fresh linen and buckets of blood at their side. The rare activity excited the small child at the news his grandmother suggested. 

Bouncing into the dining room for breakfast, he was met with his mother’s and father’s serious faces. Sensing their child, they immediately put smiles on their faces and alerted the kitchen servants. A few minutes later, his plate was piling high with pancakes in the shape of bears and a cup of orange juice.  His parents had tried giving him blood as a supplement to the orange juice, but it disgusted him, and never wanted it again. 

The King and Queen kept smiling at him, their nervous energy unbeknownst to their son. After a few bites, the Queen pushed aside her plate and leaned towards her son. 

“Joonie. We have some big news to tell you!”

Namjoon paused the fork that had a piece of his pancake, and glanced at his mother, “What? Grandmother said it would be good!”

“Well, it is, baby. Good for you..... The Princess has been alive for 6 years! And she is coming to visit us for 2 days.”

“I knew it! So I’ll be able to play with her!”

“You knew?” The King asked.  He peered at his wife, a silent message passing through the both of them. 

“Yes! I’ve also had dreams of her! She’s really pretty!”

“Oh dear. If this means what I think it means…” The Queen trailed off, watching her husband inform the kitchen of the new plan. 

The Princess would not be coming to stay with them. Not now.  

“Another fire, Princess?”

The servant witch stared in shock at the spreading fire you had accidentally started. It was the fourth one today, and, if you were being honest, you thought you were getting better at controlling fire spells.  

“Yes, another one. Will you help me put it out once again before Mother comes?”

The servant nodded and proceeded to recite the spell for you, ending the fire’s spread. Normally, servants were not allowed to use their magic. However, your mother had thought it necessary when emergencies occurred. Emergencies like fires and floods caused by you. 

Sighing deeply, you slumped into your chair, feeling the headache that followed your disasters.  Half of your room was charred and it would take another spell to fix it. Twenty-six years of practicing and you still weren’t able to do the simplest spells without going overboard. 

“Is there anything else you need Princess?”

“I’m fine. Now leave me alone please.”

The servant nodded and left the room, leaving you in complete silence.  

“I bet the other witches don’t have to clean up ashes.”

Your spell book was part of the ash but thankfully you had memorized the spell for cleaning up.

“All right. Not too much and not too little. Just enough,” you recited the spell, closing your eyes not wanting to see the catastrophe that might occur. 

When nothing could be heard, you opened them and let out a happy wheeze. Your room was clean and your possessions were in one piece again. 

“Success! Finally!”

You were definitely getting better. 

A knock on your door interrupted your silent celebration.  

“Come in!” Your mother, the Moon, walked in and took note of your happy form.  “I assume you did not cause another fire?”

“Ah...No. However, I did manage to clean up the mess myself. “

“You’re getting better! The servants told me the fire was spreading on half of your room.”

You smiled at the praise, striding over to her and giving her a warm hug. 

“I missed you.”

“As I missed you. Your father likes to be prepared for Eclipses even though we’ve done them countless times. One of those Eclipses even brought you into the world.” “Mother, I have heard the story before and I do not wish to hear it again. Please save me my innocent ears.”

“Innocent?” Your mother chortled. “Sweetheart, I have seen you ogling the male witches. You may even have a crush on one if I remember correctly. Oh, what is his name?”

“Seokjin! And he is only a friend. I have no romantic feelings towards him. You should know this after you snuck into my artbook!”

“I did not sneak into it. It was lying open and I peeked at it.  Very...detailed,” your mother raised her eyebrows knowingly. 

You shook your head and made your way over to the cursed book in question. It was true. The man you had been drawing since you could dream was etched into your artbook. You had no idea who he might be, but you knew he was a vampire. 

Flipping to a page where you knew his smile was prominent, you noted the details of his dimples and how his fangs were not as sharp as the vampires you had met. 

“Very handsome indeed.” Your mother’s soft voice surprised you causing you to jump and drop the book. 

The page it landed on was of a full body portrait. It was of the unnamed man standing in front of giant double doors with a suit on. His expression was grave, drawing it had made you worry for the man.  

The Moon picked up the book, studying the details. 

“Oh,” she gasped. “ I recognize this crest. It’s of the royal vampires. He must be part of the family.”

“There are royal vampires?”

“Yes. Do you remember when you were six years old? We were preparing for you to spend a couple of days there.” A sad smile formed on your mother’s face.  “However, they cancelled suddenly. And I may have a clue as to why now.” “You think it has something to do with me and my dreams?”

“I know it. Remember the stories I used to tell you.”

You remembered clearly. Your mother was the Moon and had ultimately stopped a war by sending the three major races of supernaturals to separate parts of the kingdom. Only her unborn child, you, could reunite them if you found the one you loved.  How would the vampire royalty figure out their son was your true prince? “Could he be dreaming of me as well?” The thought of the man seeing you as you saw him made a rush of blood warm your cheeks. 

“It’s possible. I would say we visit them as a surprise, but there still may be wounds that have not been cared for yet. They would not like to see me.”

You understood her words. Your mother’s reasoning behind choosing the witches as her patrons was a reasonable one, but the vampires and the wolves would not hear of it.  The vampires were too selfish and the wolves were too prideful.  

“You’re too kind for them anyway. I wouldn’t want a prince who turns his back on my mother,” you took the artbook from her and closed it with a huff.  

Grinning, you poke your spellbook open to the spell you had been practicing for the past few days. 

“Invisibility? What pranks are you trying to pull now?”

“Oh nothing Mother. I just want to show you”

“Well then. Go ahead.” 

Letting out a deep breath, you spoke the words, feeling a rush of wind flow through you.

As you opened your eyes, you looked in the mirror and your shoulders fell. It had not worked again.

Your mother started chuckling, trying to stop herself from laughing uncontrollably. 

Annoyed, you ask, “What is so funny?”

“You recited the wrong spell. I believe the spell you did was the floating one.” She pulled the book towards her and nodded. 

Confused, you looked down and gasped. You were floating. How had you not realized the first couple of times? 

“Fuck.”

“Language,” the Moon called out between breaths of laughter. 

“You aren’t supposed to laugh at me, I put all the effort into this!”

“I think your effort is top tier, my dear. But please, can we go to the right spell?”

After a few hours of practicing several of your weakest spells, you were allowed to venture into the garden. Your favorite place in the entire kingdom.  It was in the middle of the city and grew every single sort of flower anyone could imagine. You treasured the zinnias the most. They represented remembering or thinking of one’s friends or lovers. Ever since you first dreamed of the man, you were always thinking of him. 

You had recognized the crest, and your mother’s affirmation only proved that you needed to do something wild and forbidden. 

Picking a bouquet of the zinnias, along with a few others, you place them into a basket and draw the cloak you had brought along with you over your head. 

Reciting the invisibility spell, you felt the same woosh of wind from earlier. It was an odd feeling spreading through your body. But you knew it had worked when a servant came whistling around the corner and didn’t double take at your appearance. 

The city of the vampires, which you had learned was called Saorsa, was only beyond the limits of your kingdom.  It would be almost an hour’s trip by walking. You didn’t plan on walking as your dainty feet wouldn’t last that long, so you opted for the enjoyable version. 

Seokjin was waiting for you at the beginning of the forest line. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking around every so often for anyone that would think he was suspicious.

“Seokjin, you’re doing this for Y/N. Get it together.” 

He heard the bush rattling, and glanced over to it.  

“Y/N? Princess? Is that you?” “Yes!” You said behind the frightened man.  

Jumping back a few feet, your friend let out a yelp. His handsome face scrunching in fear. 

Laughing, you come out of your invisibility and raise the hood of your cloak. “My friend you are such a scaredy-cat. How will you survive encounters with the vampires?”

“By not interacting with them Princess,” he scolded. He took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. “Now let’s go ahead and get this over with. Remember what we practiced? I do not want to be turned into a rat again.”

“I can do it this time. I’ve even mastered the fire spell you taught me.”

“I heard your room went ablaze again.”

“I call that progress Seokjin.”

Seokjin laughed and stood back. 

You spoke the spell excitedly, watching as your friend transformed from a handsome man into a gorgeous brown horse. 

He neighed, stomping his foot in hurrah at the success of your spell. 

“Yes! Let’s go. Let me hop on!”

Hopping up to the horse’s back was a trial but you managed it by grabbing his mane, a little huff coming from him, and lifting your leg as far as it could go. Clutching onto his mane, you steadied yourself and took at the dense forest. 

Not a soul could stop you from meeting the man that captivated your thoughts.  

“Seokjin, I think we’re almost there! I can see the castle from here!” 

The hour’s walk had turned into a mere thirty minutes with the quickness of Seokjin’s hooves and a little magic.

The home of the vampires was close as the outline of the foreboding outline of the caste. The stark difference of your home and the vampire’s was colour; there seemed to be a lack of colour. Your mother had always told you vampires loved the darkness, which is why they loved her so much.  However, you had never thought it true. Who wouldn’t love to see colours pink, red, and yellow? The grey and black was hideous in your eyes. You could only hope that the man, who you now assumed was a prince, loved colours as much as you did.  

The tree line was slowly leading to a row of houses and you sensed that you would have to cloak soon.  

You had never practiced with two people--let alone a horse--so you could only pray to the Moon that it worked.  

Before you could try, Seokjin abruptly launched you into the air. Landing with an unprincess-like grunt a few feet from him, you make out Seokjin’s broad figure laying unmoving. A figure appeared from the shadows, blood dripping down their neck as they kneeled next to you. 

Whimpering, you tried to move away, but the sting of your broken leg kept you still. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”the figure cursed. 

Your vision was blurring, and you could almost hear your mother say, “Language.”

The moonlight that spilled onto your face was almost blinding. Blinking a few times, you manage to register that you were on a bed with silk sheets draped across your body.  Foreign, yet it was warm and comfortable. 

You had no recollection of being put in bed-let alone being carried to the room. There wasn’t a clock on the stand next to you, but you knew it had to be close to midnight. You weren’t too sure of the day. 

The throbbing in your leg was barely noticeable as you sat up to collect your thoughts and survey the rest of the room.  The only light in the room came from the Moon, giving you a little bit of calmness. Your mother was watching in spirit.  

Seokjin wasn’t in the room with you. You could only hope he was fine. His unmoving body was singed in your mind and the guilt was slowly beginning to take over you. It had been your idea to use him as a horse to travel to the unknown land of the vampires. Unfortunately, it seemed only disaster struck as soon as you reached the city. The figure, that you assumed was a vampire, must have carried you here.  He seemed to be frantic once he realized what he had done.  Maybe Seokjin was here as well being taken care of. 

Wiping away the tears that slipped from your eyes, you stood up testing the weight of your legs. The pain was minimal and manageable. You presumed that it had been broken, perhaps it was only sprained. Opening the door of the room, you peek out into the hall that appeared to only house your room.  

“Hello?” your question echoed through the hall.  

No one answered so you stepped out into the hallway, letting the door close behind you.   

  There were no audible or visual signs that anyone was nearby. Just the soft steps of your feet as you made your way towards the staircase at the end of the hallway.  The stairs were dark, the moonlight not being able to reach it from the windows. There was only one spell you knew that could provide a light for you, but it was the cause for most of the fires in your room. 

“Can’t hurt to try. And if it does go ablaze, perhaps someone would smell it and come!” Your mother had told you optimism was one of your best gifts, and you intended to use it in this strange place.  

“ Light is what I need,

To guide my way through the dark

Just a little to lead.”

 Feeling your palm warming, you opened it, smiling at the little ball of light that hovered in your hand. 

“Finally!”

You let yourself gloat for a second before continuing up the stairs. They wound up several stories to a heavy door.  Pushing it brought you no success, and knocking on it would only hurt. You had no choice but to use your magic to open it--not that you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to practice. 

The heavy door exploded open with your spell; the sound of it slamming against the wall should have been loud enough to alert anyone lurking. When no one seemed to be making their way to you, you continued your self-guided tour of your containment. 

“Where is everyone?”

Your home was always bustling with activity, day and night. From the stories your mother and father told you, you had expected vampires to be awake at night when the Moon was at her highest.  Mayhaps they slept through the night to dishonour her. Your mother did say the wounds had not healed though it was centuries before you were born.  

Perhaps your Prince would want to change that. 

There was another set of stairs that went up for several stories. They had put you in the lowest part of the castle. At least you surmised it was the castle, there was no other possible reason why a house would have two basements. 

At the next door, you could hear the clear, distinct sounds of laughter and clinking glasses greeted you. 

Delighted to finally have a form of contact, you quickly cast the spell to open the heavy door, announcing your presence to the entire kitchen. 

Three servants gasped at your appearance, dropping a few of the goblets and plates. 

“H-hi? I’m from-”

“Witch,” one of the servants hissed. 

Their fangs lengthened as they circled you. 

“Please. I do not come to harm you,” you backed up against the door, arms in front of you as a sign of peace.  “But I will if you come any closer.”

They all laughed at your words--the threat doing nothing to them.  

“The ugly witch threatens us?”

“Where did she even come from?”

“The dungeons perhaps?”

You whimpered, not understanding what you needed to do to escape the wrath of the servants. Magic seemed to be the only wrong answer.  Harming them was not something you wanted to do. 

“I am your future Goddess. My name is Y/N! Daughter of the Moon and the Sun.”

They laughed again. The old wrenches caring only about draining you. 

“We do not care about your mother. She betrayed us long ago.”

“I’m sorry for what she did, but you deserved it. You hurt the witches because of your people’s jealous rage. You’re lucky she didn’t take away your existence completely.” You had no idea where the confidence to say the things that were always hiding in the back of your mind. Your mother had regretted the decision to separate the races for centuries, and there was no reason for her to continue to have a contrite heart any longer. 

The vampires hesitated for a second only to continue their dance towards you.  

“Strong words coming from a witch,” they all hissed. 

“Strong words coming from my guest, servants,” a powerful voice coming from the doorway. 

All four of you glanced, and your heart sped up. 

It was him.  

He stood regal in the doorway, hands hidden in his suit pocket. His brown hair was messy as if he had just woken up. There was a twitch of annoyance in his grey eyes as he made his over to your shaking body.  

Taking your hands into his, he ran a finger across the skin. A touch of warmth spread across your body and instantly calmed you. 

“Breakfast was supposed to be served minutes ago,” he cast a look at the servants who had since backed away from you. “And then I hear the voice of our guest trembling in fear. How do you think that makes me  feel?” “We are sorry, Your Highness.”

“Yes very.”

“Saying sorry isn’t enough sometimes, isn’t it? You should all be aware of this as the Moon herself has said it countless times, and what did your families do?”

You had no idea what was happening between the four of them, but your Prince certainly had leverage.  

The servants bowed in submission to their Prince and scurried away. 

He turned towards you and caressed your cheek; his face turning into one of elation, “I cannot believe you’re actually here.”

“I cannot believe it either. I had a rather unfortunate welcome.”

“I know. And for that I’m sorry. Taehyung thought it was someone coming to attack us. He’s our best soldier and uses his fangs first before thinking. “

Frowning, you asked, “And what of my friend? Seokjin? He was a horse before he was forcefully turned back. The last I saw him...he was not moving and your “best” soldier wore his blood on his face.”

The Prince grimaced, your tone not something he wished to hear again. “He’s safe. Recuperating in the infirmary. He passed out from being forced to turn into a human and from the little nick of blood Taehyung took. He seems to be afraid of his own blood.”

Satisfied with his answer and the safety of  Seokjin, you lean into his chest, wanting to be close to him. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”

You giggled, “All of my dreams of you, and not one of them ever told me your name.”

“Mine did. Welcome to my home, Y/N.” 

[redevenir]

rigil kentaurus (pt. i)

The brightest star of the Alpha Centauri solar system – our closest neighour. Its name is the latinisation of the arabic رِجْل القِنْطورُس‎ Rijl al-Qinṭūrus, meaning the Foot of the Centaur. It is slightly larger and more luminous than the Sun. W

seungkwan x reader

wc : ~ 4000

summary : you are only a spectator of your life until they take your hand and let you live it.

a/n : started it as a seungkwan piece, then turned it into a johnny one then coming back to seungkwan bc this is how i wan to keep writing it. it's like i can't keep writing it if it's not seungkwan i don't know.

« It’s the fourth one. » Chan’s voice is only a hushed whisper but you hear how bothered he is. You don’t answer.

I know…

No, It’s already the fourth one tonight, and it’s only eleven!

I know…

It’s like they’re not even trying! Seungkwan barely avoids the tea towel as Chan raises his arms out of exasperation. If they don’t what a cappuccino is, why do they order it anyway? It’s a coffee shop, just buy a coffee! You know you don’t need to answer that. You’ve been working here for months and complaining about customers seems to be a universal way of breaking the ice. You’ve heard this speech from your first week at the counter, and with time you’ve come to agree with whatever colleague you were with, on every single point. Not once have you considered quitting to find something else instead. It is, indeed, not the best place. At the entrance of the city, the beginning of the highway. It is neither cozy nor warm. The air conditioning is too strong half of the year, the radiator too hot during the six months of winter. You are either sweating or shivering. The playlist is sickening, and never in tune with the season. You ignore Maria Carey’s christmas’s vocals as you give a customer a refill. Night workers and truck drivers are your only customers during the night shifts. You have stopped judging them long ago.

For months on end, the only thing Chan could tell about his coworker was that you were not a model employee. It was hard to blame you for anything specific. But you felt off. You felt nothing. When Seungkwan asked him how his shifts went, he would just shrug. It felt like he spent many of his nights on his own rather than with you. Like you were not there with him. Every evening he would arrive, greet you and feel like it was the first time ever. And he would grumble about it.

Can you believe I know nothing about her ?

Well, she’s surely a very private person.

Yes, and that’s rude.

You make little to no effort to appeal to the customers. In fact, you barely engage at all with them. Although, and this is your secret, you do have your favorites. From the three maintenance workers of the power plant to the security guard who comes four times a week, before the end of your shift, after the end of his own, Chan has found out that, if he listens to you close enough he’ll learn their names. Because you know them. You often seem to be elsewhere, but when you wish them a nice evening, or good luck, you do say their name, quietly, without any fuss. A sign to him you weren’t completely indifferent but thoughtful in a different way from his. There is nothing likeable to the Dreamy Drivin Chan works at. First of all, it is not a drive-in, nor a drive-through, it is a mere coffee shop. Not a fancy one, not a chain one. The counter’s light green is ugly, the temperature’s always off, and the pay is honestly not much. This is how life is at the border of the city. You catch what you can get and you try to make it work. He assumes the reason you’ve landed there is the same as his and Seungkwan’s : dropped from school, without any proper qualification for a living. He assumes you are his age, that your face must look younger when you are not tired. Chan is nice. Well, Chan likes to tease his friends, but Chan is nice. He tries to reach you, one sentence at a time.

White noises. The purring of the coffee machine you’ve never seen off. They come in, white shirt, stained jeans, black coats. They order the same thing, the largest, darkest coffee you got. You serve them with a « good night », « good luck » if you feel in a kinder mood. Since Seungkwan’s smile is bright and big and loud, you’ve decided you didn’t need to fake one of your own. They pay for their order and leave for never ending roads you cannot quite picture in your mind. When you work long shifts, it seems to you the world is shrinking, that if you open the front door you will fall into a bottomless pit. That the joke of a coffee shop you work at is some sort of asteroid gas station where rocket drivers stop by on their way to the Andromeda galaxy. You tell yourself Earth is also a little rocking drifting among the stars. You welcome a new customer. You dream of outer space. It is known people turn to alcohol and other substances to forget their troubles, but you don’t need that. Numbness greets you every time the pointing machine does its trick, and you even lose sight of your daily life. Surely you have one, plants to grow, books to read, hiking to walk and messes to clean. People to see and a sun to meet. But here, behind your pale green counter, you consign it all to oblivion. Here, there is only the world in your head and the star who takes orders by your side that exist. Your hear Chan’s annoyed sigh. You serve another coffee. It feels like taming the crow that lives in the tree in front of his building. Like he could give you bread and even croissant crumbs every single night and you would still be distant. And one day, you initiate the conversation, and he knows he’s done well. He remembers it just fine now. It was probably a boring wednesday, late in the afternoon. It had been a cloud few hours since he had woken up. A dim midday sun dissolving into the thick gray air. He was already behind the counter, checking the clock, when you had busted in the room, panting. There was some pathetic charm about the whole scene. You don’t hide your surprise when you see Chan already there, and a smile had made its way – oh so joyful and unsettled. The smile on your face had remained unchanged when he had asked you. And why are you late ?

I am not ? You had answered. What the manager doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

Ooh, so that’s how it is. Chan relates to that. He never complains about you again. Next time he talks about you, he tells Seungkwan you are his friend now. His quiet, merry friend who never works day shifts. Chan does. As it happens, Chan hates working the night shifts and only does it when Seungkwan can’t. Seungkwan is kind. Seungkwan is the most loveable being Chan has known in years. Seungkwan is grounded and warm, and steady. Moving in with him was like having finally his roots planted into rich, reliable earth, instead of the slippery mud he had been walking on for most of his life. Chan is heard, is seen. Chan sleeps well, and goes out of his way whenever Seungkwan asks him a favor, because it is easy to satisfy him. Easy, and right. He tells Seungkwan you’ve asked after him, and watches as the other chokes on his coffee.

Can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t notice.

When Seungkwan comes back to the night shifts, you don’t mention him ever leaving, but he notices the change in you immediately. When you greet him, he looks at your face and wonders what was so bad that your better rested face still looks worn out. You’re not as lively as he is, you’re not as lively as Chan is, hell, you’re not even as lively as Chan said you were with him – which wasn’t that much to begin with. But you are here. There is a relief in your presence. Seungkwan said nothing about his absence, and diligently drinks the cup of coffee you offer him around three. Seungkwan regrets the day shift but still. It could be worse. As he tries his best to maintain his customer service to its level – it is hard and how, how did he manage to do it before ? Is this the reason why you don’t ? Don’t set any standard, at all, so no one can be disappointed – and especially not you – when you don’t live up to them. Seungkwan wonders how hard you really are on yourself, and if he isn’t being dramatic. Maybe you’re all right. Maybe you look terrible because that’s how you look. Maybe you were born tired and he has no need to worry about you. Maybe you don’t need him to meddle in your privacy. Surely, if you wanted him to know about your life you’d tell him yourself.

The softest clunk ever heard by a human ear snaps him out of his thoughts. He meets your concerned look and the large cup of latte you’re handing to him.

Seungkwan, you should go home. Take it easy. Night shifts are hard.

He looks at you with wide eyes, opens his mouth, close it, opens it again and stutters.

But- no ! I mean- I can’t- I- I- you- I can’t let you do this alone- It- It- no, it’s not right! You shrug and gesture vaguely toward the empty diner hall.

It’s whatever, really. You try to elaborate as he doesn’t answer. No one’s here, you’re clearly not here, there’s only two hours left, just, you know. Go to sleep. I really don’t mind. You don’t have to fight me on this, by the way, it’s not like I’d tell anyone.

Seungkwan does as you say, doesn’t fight you on this. He can’t manage a proper thought, a proper thank you. He goes in the locker room, picks up his stuff, only to hesitate before the front door, until you repeat yourself, a sweet promise of rest. He spends the journey back home away from his body, replaying the scene over and over. He knows he’s screwed when he opens the door to his and Chan’s apartment. It’s ridiculous, and he would feel ashamed if he wasn’t so tired. How easy it is to let you take care of him. He crashes on his bed still in his work clothes and forgets his last thoughts.

Your shift passes without a fuss. It doesn’t feel like you’re there either.

You close your book when you realize you’re not reading anything. There is a light buzz in your brain, but it is quiet. Unthreatening. You close your eyes and your reaches for the cup of hot cocoa on your desk. It’s all nice and quiet here, and you wonder how you’ve managed to make your apartment such a peaceful nest when your mind is so often washed out by fierce tempests. You let your mind drift away, floating on a safe shore. Breaks from work are nice. Your sleep schedule is well set by now, and you can properly enjoy those forty-eight hours for yourself. You don’t spend every week night longing for them, because you never project yourself into the future, but you would if you did. Dawns are definitely your favorite moment of the day. Either they mean you can go home, or that you have an entire day to relish in the warmth of your place. It is a nest indeed. A kitchen and a bedroom, all stuffed into the maze of a much bigger building. The wooden floor is quite creaky and you do hear when the neighbor upstairs wears their heels. The walls are a very faded shade of orange, which you love – sun-like colors are for good luck. The furniture is definitely older than you are – older than your parents, probably – but it is nice. And the day you’ll leave it will remain exactly the same. More used but untouched. In a way, the atmosphere is not unlike the Dreamy. Homey and decay. Anonymous, but in a belonging way. Chan would hate it. His apartment – well, their apartment – is probably… You can’t picture it. You don’t know enough about home interiors to picture someone else’s home. Comfortable. Maybe furs as bed-covers? You have never touched one before, but sometimes you catch a glimpse of them on the passenger seat of a car. Your gaze never lingers though : you are not to look at a car owner in the eyes.

Seungkwan feels like he’d sleep nested in a bed of wool and furs. He’d probably like the soft but rough feeling of it against his skin. There’s something comforting about raw fabrics, isn’t there? A bubble of heat slowly builds in your chest and you close your eyes shut to chase the thoughts of Seungkwan’s bare skin in his bed.

Seungkwan is quiet, but not discreet. He is clumsy and always in his own world, parallel to yours, but you wonder how many light years are between you, and it is all to his credit. There is something you find commendable to his behavior. A reliable honesty. Not unlike a dog, you can tell from the look on his face whether he is content or anxious or annoyed. You do not have to imagine his hidden agenda – you are positive he has none. The easiness with which Seungkwan expresses himself still amazes you, even after a year or so of observing him a few nights a week. It seems to you his feelings have no hindrance to them : pure joy, pure irritation, pure panic whenever one of you breaks a cup – it happens more than you like to admit. When his voice rushes to tell you a quick joke between two customers, the joyful spontaneity of his tone carries you miles away from the counter, to bright afternoons on windy shores. He is quick-witted and never misses a chance to tell you whenever he notices something amusing. Simplicity is Seungkwan’s most beautiful quality, you have decided. When you are not drifting around other solar systems, when you come back home to your place, when you are lying in bed a few minutes more before getting dressed up, you try to imagine what he is doing at the same time. What does his apartment look like, what does he like to cook, does he have a dog and why is his smile so charming. Sometimes under the shower you wonder what he would think about you if he were to see you naked. You try to leave these thoughts in the shower where they belong but you cannot always control your mind and you find yourself embarrassed in front of him more often than you care to admit.

You collect information about him like a gold digger their gold nuggets. Every word he addresses you, you replay in your head again and again until you can hear him breathe them against your ear in the darkness of your bedroom. So when Seungkwan comes back, all quiet and cautious, pondering on his words and his welcoming attitude almost erased, you act on it as best as you can. You are not brave enough to properly ask him about it, so you do what you do best. You observe. How quieter he has become, and the slow but unstoppable growth of the bags under his eyes. Not that he seemed well-rested at all, which is also worrying. What did he go through that was even more tiring than working night shifts? Of course, it is none of your business. If Chan were there, maybe he’d spill the tea, but Chan made it very clear he didn’t want to work a night shift ever again. Will you ever talk to him again? The little one you’re so found of. Chan said Seungkwan was a neat roommate to have, and for him to give up the sunlight for months, you assumes he means it. The understatement is lovely. Chan would never spill Seungkwan’s secrets.

You light up the gas, put the little orange pan on it, pour the milk in it. With that you empty the milk carton, and throw it in the trash. Who knows when you’ll be able to afford milk again? You haven’t seen any in the store for weeks – and you restrain yourself from stealing the Drivin. It isn’t worth it. As you wait for the milk to heat up, you hear a gentle knock on your door. You lower the fire, apprehension growing in your chest. You’re not expecting anybody, so this can’t be good. On your tiptoes, breathing deep, you reach the front door and slowly open it. Wary, you let yourself look at whoever is standing outside.

Oh, miss, hello! Sorry to bother you! Someone just called after you, so I thought I’d let you know ! She lived here too. You don’t know her name, but she’s definitely older than you are. She lives upstairs, you’re not sure of the floor. She looks like a teacher, and her enunciation sounds like that too. She has a little polite smile on, aware of your discomfort, the stiffness of your body being obvious. As she sees your absence of reaction, she hands you a piece of paper, covered in smooth carbon writing. Definitely a teacher. One of your coworker, he said he was. I forgot yo ask for his number, but if he calls back, do you want me to tell him something specific ?

Huh, no! I mean- No, no, no, you don’t need- you don’t- you don’t need to do anything, miss. I’m- I’m sorry he took the liberty to call you, I don’t wish to bother you ! You mouth is so dry. Thank you! Thank you! Sorry again! I’ll leave you be then! Have a nice day! You shut the door without noticing the smile she has on again.

The ringing in your head takes over everything else. You try to reach for something to keep your balance and crumble against the wall, choking for air. You crumple the piece of paper in your fist, nails digging in the soft flesh of your palms, tearing little moon crescent that taint the words you haven’t even read. She knows now. What kind of person doesn’t have a telephone at home? Who, if not someone who is trying to remain unreachable? Untraceable. Your head is about to implode from the pain. Now she’ll know. Now, she knows you have something to hide. You lie on the floor, chasing after your breathe. Who will she tell? Does she live alone ? Is she a public teacher ? How long do you have until she tells on you? You cannot dare to think you might have to go now, tears burning your eyes as you hiccup desperately. The hawk claws on your chest only dig deeper and deeper until your forehead is against the floor, searching for cold, for a relief from the blades in your brain.

The crisis lasts for hours.

The room is dark when you emerge, and a faint, panicked thought about being late comes to you but you’re quick to remember you don’t have to work tonight. Smoke and the smell of burnt is all around you. Shit, the milk. Mouth dry, head numb, you slowly sit up, body hoarse. Feeling a light pain in your hands, you let your fingertips brush over the scab already formed. The piece of paper is still in your left hand, torn and bloody. Finally, you smooth it and read the few words on it. Coworker wants to know when next free day is. also have a good day. You stare at it without making any sense out of it. What coworker? Which one? Your planning is with everyone else’s at work. You feel nauseous. Muscles sore, you stand up and go to the kitchenette to turn the fire down. Without second thought you throw the now empty pan in the trash. Fuck all of this. Mindlessly, you reach the bathroom, undressing yourself as in a dream. After you’re done you let yourself fall on the bed. Quiet, in the back of your head, you start to make a list. Tomorrow, tomorrow you will pack. Just in case.

When you arrive at work the next night, you put an obviously packed bag under the counter. You don’t greet Seungkwan. You don’t look at him. The shift goes by without a word addressed to him. At dawn, a few minutes before you’re both free to go, Seungkwan clears his throat next to you.

I-… Hum. I, well, it’s obvious you don’t want to talk about it, but- Well, just- Just so you know. Chan says he’s sorry. He would never hav- You cut him off, stern, as you wipe the cloth over the counter to make it shine. So it was Chan.

I don’t know what you’re talking about. You hear him open and close his mouth. He seems to understand his place.

O- Ok. Have a good day rest then.You don’t bother to answer him before leaving, bag on your shoulder.

Time passes slowly.

You haven’t looked at Seungkwan in the eyes for so long now, Chan wonders if you still know what he looks like. Every afternoon when Seungkwan eats his breakfast and Chan comes back home to a most welcome snack, the night worker sighs heavy, burdened by your silence. It’s unbearable.  It’s unbearable for him to go to work every night with someone who was once friendly and has turned into a wall, a wall for which he longs to love. It’s unbearable for Chan to see his roommate on the verge of tears because of the guilt. It’s unbearable to know their action has you ready to run away every minute of every day.

The thing with Seungkwan is that he is quite good at reading people. Even though he does enjoy some unnecessary drama as much - and maybe more - as others - he usually manages to get through his life without ruffling any feather. It makes it a lot harder to comfort him with empty words when he knows you’re avoiding him, because he has been looking at you. This is how one should talk to people, he has learned. Not everyone is comfortable doing so, he also learned. Sometimes, Seungkwan says nothing, for he is afraid to annoy you away. There is no pleasure whatsoever in taking the night shift. The place is already dull by day, but by night it reaches a new dimension of boredom. Sure, it pays a bit better, but it is not worth it. Since he is not asked anyway, and he does not get to choose his shifts, Seungkwan tries to prize the strays of light in this fog of ennui. First, the night regulars seem to like him better than the day ones. He likes to think they enjoy his enthusiasm and maybe it is one of the reasons they keep coming and ordering there. The other one is you. Although now you are not at all like a light ray and more of a far away storm, high at sea.

Seungkwan would’ve liked it better if had you unleashed hell upon him. Before you used to not talk to him, but it felt more like you were shy, or reserved. Or merely didn’t know what to say, which is a very understandable feeling when you’re still at work at two in the morning five days a week. It didn’t feel awkward. Well, it sometimes felt a bit awkward, but not in the bad way. Now… Now you’re very obviously pretending he is not there, and Seungkwan wants to cry. All of it is his fault. Chan only called to you because of his rambling. I would have called her anyway. I like her. She’s my weird work friend. It’s unbearable. He jumps when Chan drops his fork on his plate with a loud clunk.

I’ll make it up. I can fix this. The eldest doesn’t look up from his meal. Chan wants to rip his own eyes and scream. With her. Inquisitive and tired eyes shoot up. I’m gonna do something about it.

Wha- Wha- Chan, there’s no fixing it, what are you talking about ? She comes to work every day with a bag which I’m sure is full of necessary stuff. You know what that means. I know what that means. She obviously know what that means. There is no fiwing this.

I know, I know. I don’t mean- Deep breathe. I know I can’t fix everything, obviously. But I’m going to apologize to her, and she’ll talk to you. And, well. It’s going to work. Seungkwan shrugs. He says nothing more until he leaves for work.

Chan slumps into the sofa. He’s fucked up big this time. It sucks. He really is a fool. Living one day at a time, he’s lost perspective. He has even forgotten why his life is like that in the first place. How could he be so careless? He’s a fly. Well, all of you are flies. Clearly, you’ve managed to get out the web and he has brought you back into it. Chan’s a fool. He stands up in a sigh, put on his shoes and goes back to the Dreamy Drivin’.

[solargroup09]

Yue bookish stories ep.5

× episode five

× yueliang and luna go ghost hunting

× wc 1219 words

× tw mentions of death and swear words

× credit to @daybreakx for the banner

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

So... let's talk about when we investigated about WJ Entertainment ghost!

Rumor has it that our old building was haunted by a young woman who used to be a trainee. According to the voices, she had left this world in a tragic accident and her spirit stayed back, haunting the company where she wanted to debut so badly. No one knew many details about this girl, but everyone feared her. It was told that she lived in the basement and that she sometimes appeared in the big practice room on the first floor. And, since the ghost only manifested during the night, these two spaces got locked every evening by a manager, just to be sure. Also, most of the trainees that worked overnight, usually chose the practice rooms on the third or fourth floor to avoid her.

I've never been the kind of trainee that practiced until late, because I always had classes in the morning, but I remember a particular day where I stayed back at the company with Luna to work on a choreography that I had problems learning. We had been using a practice room on the third floor and around 2 am we decided to go back. We changed clothes and picked up our things while chatting. We took the elevator and went back to the first floor. We walked towards the back door and by doing so, we passed in front of the basement entrance.

Luna had just made a joke, so we were giggling when we heard a rattling sound coming from the basement. I stopped and looked downstairs.

-Did you hear that?- I asked.

-Ehm...

I looked at Luna: -Is it the ghost?

She went to grab my arm: -The correct answer is no, no I did not hear anything and no, it was not the ghost. Now let's go.

-But...

She was pulling me away when we heard another sound, like a muffled moan or a soft cry. We exchanged a look and Luna shook her head: -Yue, no.

-I'm curious! Let's just see if we can open the door!

-Chasing ghosts is a bad idea!

I smiled: -I can go by myself if you prefer...

-As if I'd ever let you do something dumb alone!- she hissed, -I'm sure the door is closed anyway.

It was not.

-If something bad happens, I'm blaming you!- Luna said, while I pushed the door open. We took our phones and light up the flashlight. The basement had a little staircase and it looked dusty and full of cables, pipes, and spider webs. There were some large boxes and some materials like cardboard and wood pieces. There was a path between all the mess and we started walking.

The room was silent and I could only hear the sound of me and Luna breathing. The basement was a big echoey area so it was hard to distinguish sounds.

-Yue... this place is too creepy, I want to go home...

-C'mon just two more minutes- I whispered, trying to take a good look around.

-What if they lock us in here?

-We left our bags in front of the basement door, it's okay.

Luna and I were holding hands while exploring, just to make sure we could not get lost or be separated. Suddenly she pulled at my hand, making me lose my balance. I dropped my phone and Luna screamed. She was frantically pointing the flashlight around, looking for something.

-Yah... why did you do that?- I protested, picking up my phone.

Luna looked at me, fear in her eyes: -I saw something, I swear!

I stood up, looking around myself suspiciously. Then I felt something on my back. I turned around immediately: -Did you just touched my shoulder?

-No!- she said loudly, -Oh God, can we please just leave? I'm terrified!

-Shh, be quiet!

I hear again the footstep kind of sound and the rattling.

Luna and I just looked at each other.

-Did you hear that?- I whispered. Luna nodded.

We pointed our flashlights around us but we could not see anything.

We heard the clatter again and it was coming from the floor. We lowered the light and we saw the biggest rat ever, just standing there staring at us.

I swore loudly and Luna screamed before she grabbed my hand and run away back to the door.

We shut the door behind us, panting.

-Well, I guess this place is not haunted- I said.

-It is haunted. By big fucking rats!- Luna hissed.

I giggled and after a second, we were both crying laughing.

-What are you girls doing down here!?- someone asked. We stopped laughing and we looked up. There was one of our managers, looking even more surprised than us.

-We... ehm... went exploring?- I said.

-It's dangerous! You shouldn't have gone inside! Thank goodness I found you, girls! We have rats down here and we are waiting for the disinfestation!

-Yeah... we know now- Luna said.

-But what about the ghost?

-What ghost?- he asked while locking the door.

-The ghost of the dead trainee that haunts this place! The reason why you lock this door and the big practice room!

He looked at us like we were aliens.

-We don't have ghosts!

-What about the rumors?

-No trainee died since we started the company- he said, -and we close the basement because of the rats and the big practice room because we store there all the tapes about trainees’ auditions. We don't want to risk someone breaking in and stealing personal things.

Luna and I exchanged a look: -But they told us someone died! That it was a tragic story!

We walked out and the manager than said: -Well, we had a very promising trainee that was forced to leave the company because she had to help her parents with the family business. It was very sad because she was extremely passionate. Unfortunately, she will never become an idol...

Luna shook her head: -So someone misunderstood her "leaving" the company with "leaving" this world?

-I guess that's what happened. You know how rumors go...

-That's crazy!- she added.

-So we got a rat problem, not a ghost!

And this is how we found out we were not haunted by the undead.

Luna and I still talk a lot about that crazy adventure and it always brings us laughs.

The basement got cleaned up and the rumor of the ghost died right after. After about eight months we actually moved to a new building in Cheongdam-Dong, not too far from other entertainment companies.

The book I recommend this week is "A Good Girl's Guide to Murder" by H. Jackson. It is a good mystery novel and I had tons of fun trying to understand who the culprit was before the end of the book!

Stay tuned for the next episode! 📖🌒

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Just a note: Luna and I were reckless to go and explore a place we knew we had no permission to enter in. Please refrain from doing so because if a place is closed probably there is a good reason (like: rats). We were lucky that we were not injured or anything but please, be safe! 🥺