#tried my best to make her dress vibrant and green cause the last time i giffed this scene it looked more teal. so this set is kinda yellow

[flimsy-spine]

my favorite madney scenes: [22/?] ⇢ Seize the Day, 3.11

[harrysgloves]

This Will Be Our Year

Summary: Harry comes home with you for your family New Year’s dinner.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Language. Shitty families. Smut/ Harry’s got a filthy mouth.

A/N: Okay, lets all pretend that I got this out on Saturday instead of Tuesday... Big shout out to @meetmeinfleetwood for making this “to lovers” fic challenge. It was the first fic challenge I’ve ever done! And I loved trying to figure this one out.

I picked ‘Friends to Lovers’ with the prompts: “You think anyone heard us?” & “You keep that photo of us in your wallet?”

>>>

You didn't miss the upward turn of your best friends' lip when you anxiously readjusted the hem of your dress for the millionth time. You didn't even bother trying to steady your shaky hands as they tugged down on lacy black fabric that touched a few inches above where you normally wore your skirts or shorts

"Stop it." You huffed as he let out the tiniest breath of a laugh at your struggle. 

"Sorry, love, think y'look great." He smiled that lazy half smirk that made your stomach flutter but you had no time to worry about that right now. No, right now, you were on your way to visit your parents for the first time in a year.

The excuses of being busy with work, having no time to travel, not having the money for it, or literally any other excuse you could come up with had finally stopped working. Your mother fully demanded for you to come back home for the traditional New Year's dinner your family had every first weekend of the new year. You would have said no, but the second her disappointed voice floated in from the other end of the phone, you knew there was no way out. 

You deeply loved your immediate family. It was the extended family that you could go without. The bitchy cousins who always seemed to be doing better in life than you. Know-it-all Aunts who gave you unwelcomed dating advice or worse, they'd sit and examine why you didn't have a man 

"Yeh sure 'bout this?" He asked from the driver seat, his hand grasped on the wheel so tight you could see his knuckles turning white. "We could fake sick or somethin' if yeh want out. Bad gas station sushi, maybe."

A smile broke across your solemn face. The snort of a laugh that creaked out of your lungs washed a bit of relief over Harry. His hands gently lifted pressure from the wheel.

"Gas station sushi is the best you could come up with?" You teased from beside him, head turning just in time to see that dimpled smile you loved so much. 

"Wha' not believable?" He grinned, playful green eyes shot your way before focusing back on the road. 

You shook your head no as silence fell over the car again. Only one more turn and you'd be there.

"If yeh get uncomfortable, just tug on my shirt and we'll go, yeah?" He said as the gravel from your parents driveway crunched under the car's weight. Your stomach churned at the sight of everyone else already there. Anxiety flaring deep inside of your body, your chest suddenly felt tighter even when you let out a deep breath.

"It'll be okay." Harry said after a moment of letting you try to calm down. His ring filled hand enveloped your own shaky hand that rested on your lap. A calm washed over you from his touch. His warm hands melted away the troubled feeling that was lurking in the depths of your soul.

"I'm sorry in advance for whatever they say." You mumbled, giving his hand a squeeze. You missed the small up turn of his lips from your action, the way his cheeks tinted the softest shade of pink. You thought his cough was to dismiss what you'd said, not knowing it was him trying to himself that you only saw him as a friend.

"'M pretty sure I can handle them, love." He smiled even though you shot him a very unimpressed look. "Wha'? I survived Simon Cowell, think I got yeh family." 

"Shut up." You chuckled as you brushed your hand off your leg. The other flung open the car door before you had a chance to chicken out.

>>>

Dragging Harry along for this dinner was the best idea you'd ever had in your whole life. Your family's attention was so far off you that you barely talked the hour before dinner and Harry was handling all the attention like a champ. His hand pressed to your lower back as your uncle grilled him about every famous person he'd ever met.

"Wait, so you're telling me that you know The Mick Jagger?" Your uncle looked a second away from breaking into a full out fangirl attack. Your lips rolled in your mouth to stifle the laugh that was bubbling in your throat before a harsh squeeze on your hips from Harry had you glaring daggers into him.

He nodded his head full of soft flowly curls, that you always wanted to run your fingers through, before shooting a smirk down to you. 

He was living for this. He loved being able to touch you, lead you around to talk to people. Adored when you playfully shoved him with your shoulder when he said something embarrassing about you. He tried to be as cool, calm, and collected as he could but when you fully leaned into his side his breathing caught in his throat. His hand pressed tighter into you, mostly to hide how much it was quivering from your closeness.

He had tried for over a year to come up with a way to tell you he wanted to be more than a friend. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to be more since the night you two met, but he was too insecure about himself to speak up. You were just so vibrant. Your laugh, your smile, the way you talked with demand but was always such a sensitive soul. 

He was absolutely fucked for you and you had no damn idea.

You always thought he was too out of your league to even begin to entertain the want of something else with him. He was the great Harry Styles and well, you were just you. You, who happened to be friends with Glenne, who dragged you to a bar for a karaoke night almost two years ago. The rest between you and him was history. You'd gotten along so well and at first, you thought, it might have turned into something more, but he never tried anything more than stupid flirty banter which he seemed to do with just about anyone. So, you dropped it. Moved on. Now he was just Harry, you're really good, super hot, you may think about him when you meditate late at night, friend.

"Gonna get more wine." You said after you drank the last drop from the glass in your hand. You were going to need so much more wine if you were going to be listening to your uncle for the next 45 minutes until dinner was ready.

"Will y'bring me some too?" Harry asked with a glimmer of desperation in his eyes. You figured maybe he'd need the alcohol more than you did tonight. He had been putting up with a lot of crap from your family. 

You nodded your head yes before taking off through the hallways you used to run down when you were a kid, towards the kitchen. Your mind lost in a hazy of memories of you learning to ride your bike on your mothers freshly polished floors while the babysitter sat on your house phone with her boyfriend all night. The time your brother told you carving your names into the fancy trim along the bottom of the floor meant you two would live forever. 

The memories came to a screeching halt when you finally rounded the corner to the kitchen. Your cousin aka the bitch you hated most in the world lounged casually on the counter, her back towards you as she chatted with a friend she had brought along.

"Didn't think I was going to meet Harry fucking Styles. Would have at least done my hair." The girl you didn't know huffed out as you pressed your back to the wall. Desperate to get away from both of them. Suddenly you felt 12 again, hiding from Shannon before she had a chance to torment you.

"Not like you even need it. You already look better than Y/N without it." Shannon snorted out that nails-on-a-chalkboard laugh as your stomach sank. 

"True, girl is a bit mousy." 

"Don't forget annoying. Can't believe someone famous is hanging out with her."

A part of you wanted to turn around and walk away, but the other part was morbidly interested in what she said behind your back. Maybe, whatever she had to say, was what everyone said about you two when you weren't around.

"Think they're dating?"

"Fuck no." She scoffed with so much certainty behind her voice it made you cringe. You knew it was a bit dumb, especially since you tried to not picture yourself with him as much as possible but it still hurt. "Y/N's boring and bland as hell. He's probably too nice to tell her that he isn't interested and he feels bad that she never has any friends or a boyfriend." 

You knew you should have walked away when you had the chance. Every word that was uttered by the voice that caused your childhood trauma floated into your mind with daggers. 

Every bad thing you thought about yourself. Every reason you thought Harry would never like you was now confirmed by someone else.

"It's like his charity work for the year or something."

The last sentence was the one that broke you. Your eyes filled with tears as your feet finally unglued themselves from the permanent spot they seemed to be in. You ran for the safety of your childhood bedroom. Your mind too preoccupied with the thought that maybe, he did feel that way about you, to pay attention to anything else around you. You didn't register that Harry was only a few feet away from you when you slammed yourself into your old room.

The knocks on your door didn't bother you. You could care less to explain to our mom right now about what happened but tried your best to pull yourself together anyways. Your crying turned to quite sniffling when the knocks came again.

"Y/N, wha's wrong?" His anxious voice echoed through your door causing all tears or sniffles to stop immediately in their tracks. What the hell were you going to tell him? Your mind panicked for some lie you could use to cover up the fact you had a breakdown when the door opened, the hard metal of the door knob pushed you out of the way.

"'M sorry fo' comin' in but I saw yeh cryin' and I had to check on yeh." He mumbled uncomfortably from beside you as he shut the door again. "Wha' happened?"

"'S nothin'," you said as you dried your own eyes with the back of your hand. "Just, my cousin saying shit. I just took it a bit too personal for no reason." 

"'M sorry, petal." He cooed as his hand stroked the rest of your eyes off your cheeks away. Your head instantly nuzzled into his warmth. "Wha' was she goin' on 'bout?"

You tried your best to not tense up. Your eyes remained shut, head buried harder against his hand that still hadn't moved from your face.

"Told you, it's nothing. Really, it was dumb and I just- it's stupid H." 

"'S not stupid if it made y'cry." He frowned deeply as he lifted your chin up. Your eyes finally fluttered open to see disappointed written all across his face.

"She just-" you sighed, feeling dumb for being caught up in the moment. Her words stung but your knee-jerk reaction to cry was a bit over the top. You were embarrassed, your skin heated as his eyes trained on you. You desperately tried to look anywhere but him- the floor, the dresser, the door- anywhere. "She just… she said some things to her friend about how boring and bland I am. Said I had no friends and blah blah blah. Just dumb stuff." 

You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable talking about what had happened. You gave him the geist of it without having to divulge into the whole story. You figured it was better to leave the part about you being charity work for him out of it. An angry Harry was the last thing you wanted to deal with today.

"Yeh the least boring person I know." He said, finally breaking the silence. "And yeh far from bland. I mean, look at yeh," he gestured to your outfit, his eyes sparked as your face heated from the attention he was giving you.

"Shut up." You groaned, hands covering your burning face as he wrapped you up in a hug. His chest vibrated with chuckles as you buried your head into the crook of his arm.

"Come on, don't be embarrassed." His chin rested on your head as you fought to keep the pink blush across your face at bay. "Know I think yeh pretty. Prettiest petal've ever met." 

You could feel his body straighten up. Almost as if he got uncomfortable with being so forward with you. His hands held around you just a bit tighter and you could physically hear his heart start to race. You started to realize, maybe, just maybe, you'd been reading all the signs wrong.

You pulled away from him slightly, your lips rolled in your mouth as you peered up to him. The blush that lingered across his nose ran to both cheeks. His jaw clenched together, shifty eyes finally met yours after a long moment of avoiding your gaze. You could see gears turning in his mind.

"H?" You barely breathed out before he surged forward, his lips met yours with so force you were almost thrown off balance. Your hands quickly grabbed on his forearms to steady yourself. Your nails dug into the soft silk fabric of his sleeves as your mouth desperately tried to keep up with his frantic movements.

It was everything you'd ever imagined kissing Harry would be like. Soft, amazing lips pressed to yours. Warmth flooded your system, almost like he was bringing you back to life. His hand rested on your cheek as he pulled you closer, other hand around your waist, helping you keep balance on your tiptoes. Even if it was a bit rushed, it was perfect to you.

But then you felt him go rigid again.

"I shouldn't 'ave done that. 'M so sorry, Y/N, I know yeh don't like me like that and I got caught up and, and-nd, fuck 'm so sorry-" he rushed out in a ramble the second his lips parted from yours. Your eyes barely opened by the time he'd finished his rushed out speech. His hands ran nervously through his curls. Panic radiated off him.

"Who said I didn't like you?" You asked, halfway out of breath. His hands fell from his perfectly messy hair, down to his side. His mouth gaped open as he blinked slowly at your words.

"I, well, I thought-" He trailed off as you both stood there completely dumbfounded. 

You'd both liked each other this whole damn time.

"We're idiots." You giggled. Quickly ceasing the opportunity to close to space between you two again. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him to your level. This time, he was the one pleasantly surprised. The light humph out of him only fueled your fire as you dominated the kiss. Your tongue ran across his bottom lips, begging him to let you in. Tongues danced together in an unknown language as his arms circled you again. Holding you close as your fingers ran through the back of his hair.

It was quick. Both of you moved so fast, desperate for more. More touch, more skin contact. You felt that desire you'd pushed to the side flame to the surface as you both stumbled for balance. Your back was pressed tightly against the door after you both got your footing. 

Kissing was easy, but kissing passionately in an unknown space when you could give two shits-less about anything but each other, was hard. 

It wasn't long before the scruff on his face was burning into your sensitive and puffy lips. He'd taken over control over your mouth so long ago you had no idea where you started and he ended. Your hands, along with his, roamed uncharted territory of each other's bodies. Small gasps and light whimpers were flooding the room but you couldn't be bothered with caring right now. You were finally getting what you wanted, him.

"We should stop." He groaned, half annoyed with himself for trying to be considerate to your family. His forehead rested against yours as you both breathed in deeply.

You whined in protest at his words, your hips involuntarily grinded against him in a sense of desperation. He had winded you up like a damn play toy. He breathed a laugh at your neediness, his head shaking but you could see those dimples popping out when you stared up at him with doe-eyes. 

"Don't wanna fuck yeh fo' the first time in your parents house, lovie." He smiled widely as you let out a disappointed huff. Sure, you understood his point but that throbbing in core wasn't going to be going away any time soon. 

Harry considered it for a moment as he looked down to your glistening chest that was heaving in deep breaths. The swells of your breast had always been mesmerizing but, fuck, right now they look irresistable. His sight finally moved off your chest to your swollen and puffy mouth. He groaned at the sight, his mind instantly wondering if your other lips would look as beautiful when he was done with them.

His hand moved on it's own accord. Slipping up your dress, to your absolutely drenched panties. Your lip tucked under your lip, hips bucking in a need for more when you heard the most glorious moan fall from his lips.

"Can't leave y'like this, now can I, pup?" His lust filled eyes seemed to darken when you shook your head no. Your ruined underwear pushed to the side by his fingers, his breathing catching in his throat from just how fucking wet you were.

You whimpered and whined as he took his time leisurely circling around your clit, his finger skimming across your needy hole only teased you further. You could feel your nipples pebble against the roughness of your bra, feeling left out of the action, but you weren't complaining. 

"Quiet, or yeh gonna get us caught, sweetheart." Harry tried to scold you but you didn't miss the smug look of pride that sat on his lips. "Gonna have to keep you quiet, sweet girl." His free hand moved from the door, to your mouth. Three fingers tapped against your lips for you to open and holy fuck, you didn't think this would be happening today. 

A chill went down your spine as his fingers sat heavy on your tongue. He licked his lips as he watched you mimicked how good you'd suck him off later when two fingers entered you quickly.

"Fuckin' hell," he breathed out, the situation in his pants grew impossibly bigger while you moaned wildly against his fingers. "Jesus, fuck, yeh so tight. Gonna 'ave to prep yeh fo' me later, sweetheart."

You could barely register his words as he pumped into you again. His thumb pressed against your aching numb. He was reaching places inside of you that you'd never been able to reach. Places that you had no idea could feel this good. All sense of control left you as he hit that spot. His hand quickly pulled from your mouth to cup over top of it.

"Sing so pretty fo' me, puppy. Can't wait to hear how you sound when y'on my cock." Your walls quivered at his words, your juices dripped further down your leg as you began to quickly approach your end.

"'M ruin this little pussy later, gonna fuck y'until yeh can't handle it anymore." He started to ramble about how good you felt, how tight you were, how he was going to stretch you over his cock so good tonight that he'd ruin you. Your legs started to shake as your mind melted into a goo of pleasure. 

"Fuck, yeh like when I talk to yeh like that, don't yeh sweetheart?" You weakly nodded at his words, his hand around your mouth making it impossible to say anything but it wasn't like you'd be able to speak right now anyways. His fingers curled inside of you, pumping, his thumb switching from light touches to hard pressure. "I'd let y'talk to me like that later tonight but my dick is gonna be shoved in all the holes I can get into, puppy."

You could feel your eyes roll into the back of your head as the overwhelming flood of your release washed over you. Blinding white lights of adrenaline ran through your veins as you let out a guttural moan from a depth you had no idea existed inside of you.

You were a panting hot mess when his hands finally left your body. Sweet kisses pressed to your lips to calm you down.

"Do y'think anyone heard us?" Harry asked, his lips still hovering over your mouth as you let out a croak laugh.

"You think I care about that right now?" Your eyebrows raised as you peered up to him. His smile growing by the second as he wrapped you in a hug. "Come on, let's go, you have a few promises you made about tonight that I want to hold you to." You giggled as his cheeks flamed red, your hand reached for his but he didn't move. His boy glued in place as his eyes scanned around your old room.

"What?" You asked as you turned around to see him studying every inch of your childhood. 

"I didn't get to see it earlier." He shrugged a bit, trying to not seem like he was hyper focused on every detail. Your pile of old notebooks your mother kept "just incase you ever wanted them again", your old dresser that you'd painted at some point, your rose pattern bedspread, the mountain of books and magazines that were shoved away.

"Wha's this?" He pointed to the huge wall that was covered in nothing but pictures. 

"Oh, uhm, I used to put pictures of me and my friends on my wall. You know, like people used to do before Facebook." Harry chuckled as he shook his head at you. His hand fished into his back pocket as he moved away from you.

"What- what are you doing?" You asked, your eyebrows furrowed tightly together as you moved towards him. The picture of your and Harry's drunken photo booth session from New Year's last year in his hand.

"You keep that photo of us in your wallet?" You finally asked after he pinned it on your wall. His cheeky smile across his face as he threw an arm over your shoulder.

"Yup." He smiled widely as you chuckled from beside him. Your arm rested around his waist.

"Dork."

[mediocre--writing]

Heyyyyyy can you write something sweet with George Weasley?

Maybe reader works in a flower shop nearby? Or literally anything with him because reasons😄 thanks😘

Summary: After your initial meeting, you and George become fast friends, but what if there’s more under the surface?

Word Count: 2066

Warnings: none

The Weasleys, a large pack of gingers who seemed to always overtake any space they were in, were on their yearly trip to Diagon Alley.

As usual, it was destined that one of them would get lost or get distracted by the pretty displays along the sidewalks.

Ginny, the youngest of them, was entranced by the flower shop near the corner of the street. There was a lovely bouquet of daffodils near the window and their bright color was so magical, she felt as though they were calling to her.

As the rest of the family moved onward, Ginny started walking towards the flower shop.

The twins, ever the distracted, decided to follow their younger sister into the shop.

An older man stood behind the counter, going through the till, wrapping coins into rolls and putting old receipts in a box. Behind him, there was a woman arranging a bouquet of roses and baby's breath.

There was soft music playing in the shop and when the bell above the door rang, both the man and woman turned to look at Ginny, then the twins behind her.

“Hello!” The woman perked up at the shoppers, “What may I do for you all today?”

“Just looking around, ma’am,” Ginny spoke as she looked around the shop.

There were vines crawling down the walls, lavender in bunches hanging from the ceiling, drying out. It seemed as though flowers were being grown in the shop itself, rather than another field somewhere.

A younger girl, probably around the twin’s age, came from the back of the shop, flowers braided into her hair as well as pinned on to her apron.

Fred had followed Ginny over to the window display, where she saw the daffodils, and George had been taking in the spectacular shop. The girl who had come from the backroom looked at George for a moment, recognizing him from somewhere.

“Do you go to Hogwarts?” She asked him, jumping him out of his trance. He nodded, “Me too! What year are you?”

“Going into Third, you?” He asked, unconsciously straightening his sweater.

“Going to Third, as well,”

She has such a pretty smile, George thought to himself as he stared at her face, which had to be made by the gods.

“So why’re you here?” She asked kindly, to which he jabbed his thumb over to Ginny and Fred.

“Sister came in ‘cause she thought the flowers in the window were pretty.”

“Cool, cool,” She nodded. “So what’s your name?”

“George,” he smiled, then nodded over to his siblings, “That’s Fred and Ginny.”

“Well, my name’s Y/n. What house are you in?”

“Gryffindor,” He held himself up a little straighter, as if being a Gryffindor was the greatest accomplishment. “What house are you?”

“Slytherin,” She smiled and he felt his brain hurt after her statement.

She was so kind and sweet and if he had to guess, he would have said Hufflepuff, or maybe Ravenclaw, but not Slytherin.

“Right, well,” He didn’t know what to say, how were you supposed to react to that?

Luckily, he didn’t need to respond, as Fred had called him to leave the shop and go back to school shopping.

“I’ll see you at school!” Y/n yelled to him as he walked out, but she didn’t get a response.

“Make another friend, Bug?” Her dad asked sweetly.

“Probably not,” She smiled the best she could.

While walking away from the shop, Fred noticed that George seemed out of it, he wasn’t laughing along with them.

“What’s up?”

“The girl in there, she was sweet, right?”

“Seemed it,” Fred commented, “You were all blushy around her,”

“She’s a Slytherin,”

“Ooh, bad luck,” Fred said, then the conversation was dropped.

He tried not to think about her.

He didn’t think about her smile and how she seemed so inviting. He didn’t think about the pretty red flowers she had in her hair. He didn’t think about how she had dirt all over her apron and clothes, but still looked absolutely stunning.

He most definitely didn’t think about how in her element she looked in the shop, like there was no other place in the world where she felt so at home.

It wasn’t until they were back in school that he saw her again. But it took a few weeks into the term for them to talk, since they hadn’t been alone.

They talked for the first time when McGonagall had to separate Fred and George, so she stuck George next to Y/n.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, but seemed tense and reluctant when doing so.

She tried to start conversations, and he talked along, hesitant at first, but ultimately relaxed as she went on about her day, or a story from when she was younger, and he would respond with a childhood story of his own.

And thus began the wondrous friendship between a Goofy Gryffindor and a Sweet Slytherin.

Every once and awhile, she’d sit with the twins at dinners or breakfasts, which got her weird looks the first few times, though people were used to it by the fifth time.

With the years following, they only ever got closer.

She comforted him in their fourth year when his sister, Ginny, had gone missing during the Basilisk attacks.

He wouldn’t leave her side when word of Sirius Black being near the castle was going around.

When he and his family had gotten tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, she’d been invited, being close with the twins and all.

Molly instantly took a liking to her, especially because she showed up with a bouquet of Our Molly Roses Y/n had made as a thank you.

When the attacks happened the night after, George refused to let her out of his sight, insisting that she preceded him while running to the forest.

He’d become a bit more protective after that, not letting her out of his sight when he could help it.

During their sixth year, when he and Fred tried to get past the age line, she was the first to laugh. That year, she also became closer with Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

Ron was a little twerp and Harry had so much anxiety she wasn’t sure how he was still alive. Hermione, however, became a good friend to Y/n. She looked up to her as an older sister, which made Y/n want to cry, being an only child and all.

But as the Yule Ball approached, Y/n was being asked left and right, given her kindness and beauty wooed most of the boys, and some girls, at Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang alike.

George instantly felt inferior compared to all the others attempting to coerce her into being their date. He felt he had an advantage, however, given she’d said no to every person who’d asked her so far, and he was her best friend.

When he’d finally gotten the courage to ask, a mere week before the dance, they’d been laying on a hill far from the castle, watching the sun rise early in the morning.

She was the only person to make him wake up at the ass-crack of dawn to watch a measly sunrise.

She was threading flowers around themselves, fashioning a ring of yellow and green as she picked them from around where they lay.

While she was focusing on her flower crown, peeking up at the vibrant sunrise every once and awhile, George couldn’t take his eyes off of her beautiful side-profile.

He admired the way the new sunlight made her face a beautiful golden shade and enhanced each curve and point of her face.

“Stop staring, Weasley,” She said with a smirk as she continued her ring of daisies.

“Wasn’t staring, L/n,”

“Don’t lie,” she chuckled as she began to wrap the first daisy around the last, officially making the circle.

“That’s a wonderful flower crown you’ve made there,”

“Yeah, I’m giving it to the most amazing person I know,”

The way she looked into his eyes made his heart falter for a moment. He felt like she could see into his soul, like she knew what he wanted to ask her.

However, she proceeded to place the daisy crown onto her own head, straightening it as she kept eye contact with George, who let out a loud snort.

“Of course,” He said through giggles, eventually laying back onto the grassy hill, her body following after his once the crown was secure on her head.

“I mean, could you think of anyone better?”

“Never,” He smiled as he tilted his head to stare at her. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Course,” She smiled, “But if you want the crown you’ll have to fight me for it,”

“Oh, I’d never steal your crown, your highness,”

“Ooh, I like that. You should always call me ‘your highness,’” She smirked wickedly, but her eyes were filled with pure joy. “So what’d you wanna ask?”

He scratched his head, pushing his hair out of his face. “I know you’ve been asked by just about everyone, and said no, but would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“Yes,”

“That was quick,” He grinned at her immediate response.

“Well I’ve been waiting for months,” She rolled her eyes. “All those other people just wanted to go with me to say they went with me, but if I went with you, then it would really mean something.”

“You mean a lot to me,”

“Same here,”

They laid there, in their chunky sweaters and pajama pants, on that hill, until they could see kids walking to their first class of the day.

George and Y/n had the same first period class, so they leisurely walked to the greenhouses in their warm pajamas and none of their school supplies, to which they talked their way out of a detention with Sprout, and then got dressed and grabbed their stuff before going to their second period.

As the Yule Ball drew closer, Y/n became more and more frazzled.

The night of, she’d promised to help Hermione first, given she was going with Victor Krum, and therefore had to have the first dance. She’d done her hair and gotten mostly ready, apart from the dress and final details, then gone to prepare her little friend.

Y/n had done Hermione’s hair, which looked great, thank you very much, and helped her learn to walk in the heels she’d gotten, which was a lot harder than it needed to be.

About 20 minutes before Hermione needed to leave, Y/n had gotten her dress on, since it needed to be tied in the back, and gotten Hermione’s opinion on her hair and makeup.

Y/n then sent Hermione to the dance.

She was still making sure that her hair wouldn’t get too out of place and was fastening her shoes when she began to hear music from the Great Hall.

She was running so late.

She raced down as quick as she could in her heels, trying not to sweat too much as she got to the Great Hall.

Waiting until the first song finished, she pushed open the door and began searching for George, who was already staring at her in awe.

So was most of the hall.

Scurrying over to the ginger, she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.

“You look…” He let out a breathy sigh as he couldn’t find the words.

She had on a deep green ball gown that had a faint floral pattern on the skirt, shining in the lights. In her hair, just like the day they’d met, she had flowers braided into her hair, yellow ones this time, and they looked almost as beautiful as she did

“And you as well,” She chuckled as she took in his maroon, velvet robes that had lace detailing on the trim, though it looked really good on him, or maybe she was just biased.

“Shall we dance, your highness,” He bowed jokingly.

“Ahh, you remembered my real name, how nice,” She laughed as they went out to the dance floor, twirling around and smiling brighter than any other couple there, and drawing the most attention, too.

For good reason though, they gave hope to others that happiness bloomed from the heart, and despite scary times, love would grow endlessly.

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list and that you give these fics a lot of love.

Happy reading!

1) Your Good Time | Explicit | 3070 words

Louis nodded along with what the guy was saying, apparently his arousal taking over his brain to mouth filter as he said, “Who would want to hide a fit bloke like you? That guys an idiot.” Louis scoffed, dramatizing the word ‘idiot’, giving the guy a sly smirk. The guy leaned an arm against the bar, turned his body to Louis and fixed him with a curious look before he held out a hand.

“M’Harry.”

Louis and Harry meet in a bar when Harry's date is an ass. Inspired by Temporary Fix by One Direction.

2) I Push You To The Limits | Explicit | 3846 words

Louis is a brat who likes seeing his boyfriend get jealous and possessive over him.

3) Overkill | Explicit | 4354 words

Louis was never going to get over how fucking attractive Harry was. How glorious his big, tall, curvy body was. The feeling of Harry behind him, hot and heavy, trapped on the tube after they’d been somewhere during rush hour. His thick hands, full of pretty rings sometimes, handing Louis a cup of coffee, then getting one for himself.

4) Too Nervous to be Lovers | Mature | 6445 words

Louis doesn't want to spend quarantine with Harry, his straight roommate, who doesn't even acknowledge his existence.

5) Fratboy In Love | Mature | 6830 words

Harry Styles was a frat boy who loved to sleep around and flirt with boys and girls. Louis was a good uni student who loved to stay in and study and wasn't much of a partier.

Insert his best friend Niall who talks him into going. Louis gets drunk and ends up sleeping with harry. The next day he leaves before Harry wakes and tries to avoid him at all costs. Thinking Harry wouldn't care since Louis was just another conquest. But what if Harry did care. And actually have a crush on Louis. Read and find out

6) My Sunflower | Mature | 7057 words

Louis would rather be sunbathing at the beach with his friends, not slaving his spring break away in his father’s flower shop.

7) Waiting | Explicit | 8023 words

Louis Tomlinson was Harry’s omega, of this Harry had always been sure. Unfortunately for Harry, Louis seemed to think they were just best friends. The six weeks that Harry has to live with Louis were going to be rough.

8) Shine Light Upon Your Ground | Explicit | 8506 words

Note: The fic pairing is Louis/H, which the reader can picture as Harry or Henry Cavill.

Louis sighs again and fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist, twisting the charms around and petting the fake diamonds.

“How much for a night?” A deep voice suddenly asks him. The man who approaches him is already pulling out his wallet and flicking through a bundle of bills. Louis, who had been sitting at the bar completely innocent and minding his own business, lets out an offended, strangled sound.

“Excuse me?” He demands, straightening up in his seat. The hem of his dress creeps further up his thigh but he pays it no mind.

9) Glistening Under The Sun (You're My Honey Soaked Love) | Mature | 8996 words

“Oh Petal,” he picks her up nuzzling the top of her head with his cheek as she nibbles on the lavender, “How lucky are we? I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy, the only thing we have to be sad about is that soon I won’t be able to hold you like this,”

10) Connected To The Heart | Explicit | 9059 words

Note: This is an coda scene for this fic.

“Your stage cue is way too close for you to be wearing that look you’re wearing,” Louis informs him. He can’t stop himself from looking up at Harry through his eyelashes, the silk of Harry’s dress shirt brushing against the backs of his knuckles.

“Twenty minutes,” Harry agrees. His breath is minty from the gum he was chewing earlier, fresh and warm. “Twenty minutes can be a long time, baby.”

This time, Louis has to force himself to roll his eyes. “Not nearly long enough for the way you always want to fuck me.”

11) Fuck U Betta | Explicit | 11438 words

There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.

OR the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.

12) Kiss Me In Your Chevrolet | Explicit | 11569 words

"Yes, Lou?" Harry asked, rubbing his tired eyes. A gust of wind came through the open windows, sending chills down Harry's arms as a light rain began falling outside. He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back to the couch arm rest.

"Can we go there?" Louis asked, probably pointing somewhere. Harry opened his eyes and felt his heart jump in his chest, a magazine page a couple of inches away from his face. Startled, Harry closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to collect himself.

Harry blinked a few times to focus his eyes on the page Louis still held in front of his nose. "You want to go to the Grand Canyon?" He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the left to look at Louis' face.

13) Pull The Trigger | Explicit | 12007 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #16 on this list.

Louis has never been alright with killing. Will that change when he learns what it's like to be the one holding the gun?

14) Open All Night | Explicit | 12537 words

It’s six in the morning when Harry finally makes it back home.

Harry's a bartender, Louis' got a nice ass and a shit taste in men. They make it work.

15) Among Other Things | Explicit | 16073 words

“Harry, it’s 7:45, oh my god, my class starts at 8:15,” and Louis wants to cry. Harry’s busy under the bed trying to find the tiny silver key but Louis knows that fate just hates him and he needs to find a way to get up. “Harry, I—fuck,” Louis whines. Harry stands up in a rush.

“I can’t seem to find them. It. The key.”

Or, Louis’ the teacher of Harry Styles’ daughter. Their paths shouldn’t cross like this. This meaning Louis showing up to school handcuffed to a headboard.

16) A Bullet And It's Gun | Explicit | 18156 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #13 on this list. 

Louis’ parents arrange his marriage with Harry. He’s fully ready to accept that he’s going to be a sad and lonely person for the rest of his life. But then Harry starts proving himself as more than just an asocial man with money.

17) By Such Slight Ligaments | Explicit | 26764 words

Note: The fic pairing is Louis/Henry Cavill.

A late night visit to a patient sets off a series of events that will turn Louis' world upside down.

... Here there be monsters.

18) At Your Fingertips | Explicit | 27384 words

He finds himself wrapped up in sheets in bed on Thursday night, staring at the familiar name on a new story that was posted the night before.

His fingers twitch, ready to hit play and surrender to his impulses, saving the regret and turmoil for later.

And still he hesitates, internally praying that he’ll somehow gain the strength to exit out within the next few moments before he inevitably loses his patience and hits the button.

Three…

Two…

One.

Play.

19) Forgot My Roots Now Watch Me Bloom | Explicit | 28334 words

Lonely transit worker Louis pulls his longtime crush, Peter, from the path of an oncoming train. At the hospital, doctors report that he's in a coma, and a misplaced comment from Louis causes Peter's family to assume that he is his fiancée. When Louis doesn't correct them, they take him into their home and confidence. Things get even more complicated when he finds himself falling for Peter's brother, Harry. Loosely based on the movie "While You Were Sleeping".

20) Push You Out, Pull You Back In | Explicit | 31544 words

Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.

21) Baby Blue | Explicit | 39439 words

Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head.

He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin.

“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”

22) Lidocaine And Palm Trees | Explicit | 44653 words

Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.

Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.

Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.

A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.

23) Sleeping On Our Problems | Explicit | 67369 words

Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

24) Truth Would Be | Explicit | 91869 words

“You want me? I’m not a… a thing to be owned!” Louis stuttered, still very angry and confused.

“Hmmm…” The alpha tapped his lips as if he was contemplating something. “Last time I checked, the debt was paid off and the only thing I had asked in return was… you. So technically I do own you.”

“You are crazy…” Louis muttered as he began to back towards the door. Harry’s impossibly green eyes turned a shade darker, but his tone was still teasing and light when he said, “Maybe I am…”

The I-paid-off-all-your-debt-so-you-are-mine AU in which Omega Louis wants to be left alone by Alpha Harry but it's super complicated when he starts to not hate the alpha all that much.

25) Collision | Not Rated | 224594 words

Note: This fic was finished in 2018, but two new epilogue chapters have been added.

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[harrysgoldenbum]

Want You Pt. 1

--Harry is June’s ex. June is Y/N’s best friend. Months after the break up the two meet again, and there is an attraction Y/N is just not ready to address.-- 

I want to thank @for-fucks-sake-h​ @andwhenshesays and @oh-honey-styles​ for letting me participate in this challenge. As a new writer its a bit intimidating but I hope y’all enjoy :)

warning: mentions of smut, but nothing too juice... yet. 

Y/N couldn’t believe it. 

Of all the damn colleges in the country, he had to attend the same one as her. And out of all the parties that were happening tonight, he had to be at the same one she was. 

She turned away from the vibrant green eyes of Harry Styles and wished the ground would swallow him whole. She was looking forward to getting wasted tonight. She had a tough week with four exams, her mother once again pushing her buttons and something went wrong in the system and Y/N couldn’t sign up for the classes she needs next quarter. Now she is a fourth-year student and is going to fall behind on her major. Y/N was over all of it. Seeing Harry was just icing on top. He was her best friend June’s ex-boyfriend. 

And a complete douchebag. 

He’s also really fucking attractive. 

Hoping the dancing bodies and the loud music would distract him and not having him come her way, Y/N grabs her roommate’s hand and starts to walk farther into the room. Y/N doesn’t know how Carrie convinced her to go to a party on a Thursday, and yet here she is. When they enter the next room, Y/N tells Carrie who she saw.  

“Is he here?” Carrie asks over the music. 

With a nod of her head, “I thought I saw the last of him last year! June had said that he was planning to transfer out. I guess he didn’t.”

With a shrug, Carrie gulped her beverage from the red solo cup. 

“I should tell that jerk what I think of him.” Y/N seethes taking in her surroundings to see if he is anywhere near her. 

“You could say whatever the hell you want, but it won’t bother him. Especially when he practically has an endless supply of pussy.” 

Immediately, Y/N pictured Harry between her legs. His green eyes look up at her, while his tongue fucks her pussy. She has to clench her thighs and take a deep breath. She pushes the guilt away from her mind and tells herself that she’s too drunk and was thinking unclearly. But fuck, he is hot. But no matter how attractive he is, he is still an asshat. 

“There are so many stories about that boy’s dick,” Carrie states over her cup, dreamily. 

Y/N looks over at her friend in shock, “What?! That was before they broke up! All I had to do was wait until June was wasted and she couldn’t stop talking about how good he gave it.” 

The two friends move to a quiet corner, Carrie looking for a possible partner for the night. It takes about five minutes, then Carrie is leaving Y/N for the guy that was undressing her with his eyes across the room. Two minutes later, she’s taking his hand and disappears somewhere in the house. 

With a heavy sigh, Y/N pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through her socials. It doesn't take Harry even two minutes to slide right up to her. She tries to ignore him and continues to look at the pictures of people. But she can feel his eyes on her. She feels his eyes travel up and down her body until they rest on her face. 

She finally snaps. “What do you want?” she all but snarls.

With a slight laugh, he leans his forearm onto the wall she’s leaning against. “Well, I want to talk to you.”

“Talk to me? Why would you want to talk to me?” Y/N asks, “we aren’t friends, not even close! Especially not after what you did to June!” 

Harry flinched.Y/N sees the look of pain and hurt flash across his face. But seconds later the emotion is wiped clean and is replaced with that flippant, self-assured, asshole persona that fits him so well. 

“Well, we can become friends, can’t we love?” There is a dangerous gleam in his eye that had the hair on the back of her neck rising. “We can get to know each other.” 

Something about the way he says that makes Y/N shiver with anticipation. The fire in his eyes’s putting her on edge. Looking into his forest green eyes, a shiver starts from the base of her spine and travels up and around her body. She can feel her nipples tighten. And prays to god that her padded bra keeps them hidden. 

Y/N was a year younger than him, and when June and Harry had broken up, she had finally moved to the college town just a couple of months before. So she wasn’t lying when it came to friendship Harry Styles. He might have dated her best friend for almost six months, but she only met him a handful of times. And that was after she finally gave up on commuting to school and found a small, cheap studio apartment for herself. Thanks to all the scholarships and grants she had received, she didn’t have to worry about a roommate. And working as a waitress at a local diner helps with her other expenses. The weeks later, June and Harry were no longer together. Y/N always assumed it was a messy break up because it led to June transferring to a different college on the other side of the country. 

“Why would I want to be friends with you?” she asks. “You cheated on my best friend.” 

He clenches his jaw and avoids her eyes. He looks like he’s in an argument with himself. But once again when he turns to her he’s showing her his easy-going smile, the smile that had so many girls swooning because of his dimples. Harry’s eyes travel up and down her form and he doesn’t even try to hide his appraisal. 

“You look really good tonight, Y/N. Really good,” he laughs, covering his face to hid his blush. “Fuck, I saw you from across the room, you dress make your legs… damn… your legs look like they go on forever.” 

Y/N hates herself for blushing. She hopes the darkness that consumes the house helps her hide her heated cheeks. She’s torn. One part of her is eating up the compliments from the attractive guy that’s feeding them to her, leaving her hot and horny. And another part of her fighting the attraction and reminding her of her loyalty to her best friend. 

She does the one thing she can, she crosses her arms and looks away.

Taking his snapback off his head, Harry runs his hands through his hair and puts it back. “Look… is it because of the way things ended with June the only reason that is keeping you from letting me get to know you better?” 

Turning back toward him, Y/N sees a slight frown on his face, causing creases on his forehead. 

“What do you mean only thing? How can you come to me and act like you cheating on a girl, who you were in a serious relationship with, who was so in love with you, not a big deal?!” 

“I never said that,” he replies calmly. “I asked if that was the only thing keeping you from maybe not hating my juts.”

Looking up at him in confusion, Y/N can’t help but question what he was asking her. 

The desire to put him in his place overcomes her. “I don’t like you in general,” Y/N starts. “Cheating is one obvious reason, but you are arrogant and annoying. You are used to getting your way, especially when it comes to the number of girls you’ve been with. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Throwing his head back, a deep laugh escapes from Harry. He looks absolutely gorgeous. His laugh seemed to come from deep in his belly, his smile pops out his dimples and lights up his face. He looks down at Y/N with amusement twinkling in his eyes. 

“Seems to me someone is uncomfortable with their sexuality.” 

Y/N’s jaw drops. “What?! No! That’s not true! You’re - Just because I’m… I’m not attracted to you!” she stutters. Her cheeks heat up at the bald-faced lie she tells him. 

“It’s alright love, I have that effect on a lot of women,” he responds with a smirk.

With a scowl on her face, Y/N looks at him with disgust. “Good for you! Why don’t you try putting your moves on one of them?” she gestures to the number of college girls that are at the party. Most of them are giving them side-eyes, clearly wondering why Harry would be giving Y/N his company. “Because I’m definitely not interested.” Looking him dead in the eyes. “Especially not a guy that would cheat on a woman. Whether she is my best friend or not. It highlights your character and its a trait that I am not attracted to.”

Harry’s cocky smile falls off his face. “I didn’t cheat on June.”

His face goes sober, catching Y/N off guard. She takes a moment to study him, looking for any hint of a lie. She doesn’t find one. 

She tries to say something, but he beats her to it. 

“You don’t have to believe me. I highly doubt that you will, but the chance that you do - the chance that you know, might not… hate me anymore…I figured that you should know. I never cheated on June.” 

“And I am supposed to just… believe you?” Y/N asks, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“You can do what you want Y/N,” he laughs, “I’m just trying to tell you my side of the story. Do you want to know what happened? I told her that there was someone else and she just assumed. I just never made the effort to correct her. That’s what ended us. I encourage you to ask her.” 

He stands straight and starts to walk away. Harry had taken two steps before he came back to her. He wraps an arm around her waist and puts his other arm against the wall behind her. “Maybe knowing that I’m not the asshole you think I am will make it easier on you to accept that you want me just as bad as I want you.” He says to her. Harry brushes a couple to strands of hair out of her face and soft kiss her cheek before turning around and leaving her alone for the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~

The next day, Y/N decides to do some investigating. 

Y/N and June tried to keep in contact with each other since she transferred. They would text each other a couple of times a week and try their hand at calling each other at least once a week. But it has been a couple of months since the last time they called each other. 

So, that morning, Y/N sends June a text telling her that she ran into her asshole of an ex last night and informed her that she put him in his place. But, she also tried to dig for more information. Y/N had never gotten the whole story from June, Y/N knew that she was planning to transfer schools after her second year and Harry had said that he would join her too. But by the time June was getting ready to leave, they had broken up. And Y/N being the supportive and helpful friend she is, Y/N helped June not only pack and eat endless pints of ice cream and drank more than their fair share of wine. And plenty of chick-flicks to make her feel better. 

When Y/N got a response from her, to say she was confused was putting it lightly. 

Okay, so I may have overreacted and made him look worse then what was actually going down. I appreciate your loyalty as always! Haha, I was just super into him and things are going good. But then out of now where he tells me that there is someone else. I guess I never did find out if he slept with her or not but I didn’t give him the chance to explain himself. Whatever, I’m over it. He texted me a couple of weeks ago apologizing again. I don’t plan on becoming his friend, but I don’t hate him anymore. Talk to you soon Y/N. xoxo.

After rereading what was sent to her, Y/N started to think that maybe Harry Styles is as bad as she thinks. And that just maybe, he is telling the truth. 

She pushed the thought from her mind and started to work on her fourth-year thesis.

It isn’t until late at night when she thinks of him again. So maybe he didn’t cheat on June, but that doesn’t mean she can stand the guy. He makes her uncomfortable. And Y/N is pretty sure that he is just looking for a quick fuck, which she isn’t entirely against. But when the guy is an arrogant son of a bitch, Y/N does her best to avoid them. 

~~~~~~~~

Sunday morning, Y/N does her best to be productive. Looking around her apartment to see what chore she should start with, she picks up her hamper and the dirty clothes thrown on the floor and goes downstairs to start her laundry. She’s wearing her only clean clothes, a pair of boy shorts that she usually wears to bed (because they barely cover her ass) and a stretchy tank top without a bra. She gets to the laundry room and starts to separate her dirty clothes. 

“If this isn’t the best thing I’ve seen all day!” 

Y/N freezes at the sound of the voice that rings through the room. She’s bent over the washer stuffing her clothes, realizing that she is probably exposing more than half her ass. She stands straight and looks over her shoulder, and sure enough. It’s Harry freaking Styles. He seems to be holding a bag of laundry over his shoulder. He’s wearing athletic shorts and a plain white tee. His cocky smirk irritates Y/N further. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I thought this room was for the whole building,” he starts walking to the empty washer next to her and starts loading his clothes. “I was told that anyone who lives here can use it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and her jaw drops. She tries to convince herself that her heart is racing because she is just irritated. “You’re fucking joking right?” 

“Nope,” Harry says, popping the p. “We are neighbors” his dimples peek out as he grins. “I’m 2C. Where are you?” He adds detergent to his machine and starts the wash cycle. 

“3C” she replies, watching him carefully, “are you stalking me now?”

He breaks into a deep laugh. Going as far as clutching his flat stomach. “I can assure you, it is 100% a pure coincidence, love.” 

With a sigh of frustration, Y/N closes her washer's lid and starts her wash cycle. She glances at him and sees him leaning against the machine and checking her out. His jade color eyes move slowly over her body and Y/N finds it difficult to breathe. Her nipples grow hard. Realizing she isn’t wearing a bra, she crosses her arms across her chest. 

Suddenly, he eagerly asks her if she talked to June and if she backed him up.

“I did, congrats, I guess your character isn't all that bad. But I still can’t stand you.”

Harry moves his hand to cover his heart. “You wound me, love. You know I’m not a two-timing type of guy, can’t you ease up on me a little?”

“No” Y/N scowls. She enjoys him begging for her attention. She feels as if it's the first time he is working for something in his life. 

“Playing hard to get then?” he teases. His green eyes light up with amusement. 

“Or maybe not all women want you like that” Y/N scoffs. 

That arrogant smirk reappearing, Harry leans toward her. “That hasn’t happened yet.” 

Resisting the urge to scream, Y/N rolls her eyes and turns to collect her stuff. Just as she is about to comment, hoping to get the last word, two girls walk into the laundry room. They both stop when they see Harry. Blatantly check him out, and clearly liking what they see. 

“Hi, I’m Amelia and this is my roommate Alexis. Did you just move in?” she asks, twirling her hair around her finger. 

Harry steps in front of Y/N and shakes their hands. Y/N clenches her jaw and tries to convince herself that she’s annoyed because she can’t stand Harry, not because of the two other girls hitting on him. 

Suddenly, Y/N doesn’t feel comfortable leaving the laundry room, so she tries to prolong her stay by making it look like she is doing something while the others make small talk. 

Y/N’s ears perk when she hears Amelia offer Harry a tour of the building and the neighborhood. But Y/N knows what type of tour Amelia really wants to give Harry. A strong arm wraps itself around her waist and pulls her closer to Harry’s body. His thumb rubs circles on her hip bone that was exposed from her tank top rising. 

“That’s very sweet of you, but Y/N just offered to do that, right?” he’s only looking at her. Heat races throughout her body and tingles travel down her spine. 

Looking up at him with wide eyes. She finds it fascinating that one person who she finds attractive can be just as infuriating. “Right,” she confirms with a fake smile. 

She would rather play along rather than letting these skanks sink their claws into Harry and spread whatever diseases they carry. Harry holds on to her while the two girls get their now dry clothes and leave the room. Y/N wiggles out of Harry’s grip and goes to grab her hamper and phone. But Harry beats her to it. 

“What are you doing?!” Y/N shrills. She suppresses the urge to stomp her foot like a three-year-old throwing a tantrum. 

He messes around on her phone for a minute before giving it back to her. “There. I gave you my number and texted myself, so I have your number. We are going to start working on ‘not hating my guts’ thing, yeah?” he tells her with a smile. 

Whirling around Y/N stomps out of the laundry room. Looking over her shoulder, “Don’t bet on it,” she shouts over her shoulder. 

~~~~~~~~

It's later in the evening when someone knocks on Y/N’s door. She just finished cooking herself dinner and had Netflix queued. When she answers it, a shirtless Harry Styles is standing in the hallway. His tattoos stand out against his tanned skin. Y/N’s mouth waters. His body is built and his muscles are defined in all the right places. His abs are just tight enough to stand out without him trying too hard. He’s holding a tupperware box in his hand. Y/N feels heat leak between her legs. 

She quickly drags her eyes up to look at him. “What do you want?” she snaps, hoping once again that he can’t see her hard nipples. Irritation streams through her body. Her body acting as a traitor even though her brain knows that she doesn’t want anything to do with him. 

“I thought what better way to convince you that I’m not an asshole,” he starts, “than by baking you chocolate chip cookies… and brownies.”

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t sure what you liked and wanted to give you something you might like. I use to work at my gran’s bakery and she taught me how to bake really well.”

Taking the box from him Y/N is flabbergasted. Once again she sees a side to Harry she didn’t think he had. And it's thrown her out of the loop. “Well, um… thanks.” she stands there awkwardly, unsure what else to say. 

Harry’s forest-green eyes are looking at her. His eyes darken and he takes a step toward Y/N. “One more thing.” He wraps his arms around her waist and dips his head. He sucks on the skin just below her ear. “I can fuck pretty well too,” he whispers. His lips lingering at the shell of her ear. 

Before Y/N can say a word, Harry turns around and walks away. 

In a daze, Y/N shuts the door and moves to her couch and collapses. Only two words enter her mind. ‘Well, fuck.’

Part 2 Here

My Work

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 10: The Perfect Gift”

Part 10 is here! Not gonna lie, this chapter is short and not my best work but a necessary bridge to get to the climax of our story! Fair warning, it ends on a cliffhanger. Enjoy! ❤️ 

It was the Tuesday after the dramatic Carisi lunch. You typically had Mondays off from the gallery and after fucking Rafael senseless in front of the fireplace, it didn’t take much convincing on your part to get him to play hooky. The majority of your day was spent in bed— making love, browsing through Netflix, and eating Chinese takeout. It was a much needed escape from your chaotic lives and you still had a few more hours before reality set in. 

The brilliant warm rays of the early morning sun peeked through your curtains. You languorously stretched your limbs, reveling in the sensation of your bare legs against the soft cotton sheets. With a long, drawn out yawn, you reached over to the nightstand for your cup of coffee and aimlessly flipped through a copy of the New Yorker. However your attention was otherwise preoccupied with a freshly showered Rafael walking around your bedroom with a towel hanging low around his hips. You nearly spilled your hot drink into your lap while counting the water droplets on Rafael’s bare chest, watching one droplet slide down his stomach towards his happy trail.

He let the towel drop to the floor and began to get dressed for work, arching his brow when he caught you perched on the edge of the bed staring at him with your jaw hanging wide open. 

You blushed and cleared your throat. “Are you sure I can’t make you breakfast?”

“Thanks for the offer but I should try to get to the office early,” he said, holding up two ties for you to choose from.

You picked the silk violet tie. The purple hue brought out your boyfriend’s brilliant green eyes. “Ok, but promise me that you’ll eat something other than the stale pretzels at the precinct.”

“I promise.” Rafael gave you a quick peck on the lips and wrapped his tie around his neck when he realized that he was missing a key element to his wardrobe. “Where’s my shirt? I swore it was right here a min—” His search for the missing shirt came to a screeching halt when he noticed you were wearing it.

“Sorry babe.” A nervous giggle escaped your lips. “Who knew Armani made such comfortable clothes and besides I love how it smells.”

Rafael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “How it smells?”

“Uh huh.” Your cheeks turned bright pink and you nervously fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “It smells like you.”

An warm, fuzzy feeling coursed through Rafael’s veins at your confession. He cupped your face and tenderly kissed you before pulling away. “If you love the shirt so much, then it’s yours.”

“Really?” You glanced down at his undershirt and the tie draped around his neck. “But what are you gonna wear?”

“I have a spare shirt in my office that I keep in case of emergency coffee stains.”

You beamed brightly and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Best boyfriend ever,” you murmured against his lips before kissing him.

He deepened the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue as his hands inched further down your back towards your ass. You moaned in response, feeling him squeeze your cheeks.

“Mi amor,” he said between kisses. “I have to go.”

 “No. Five more minutes. Please,” you whined, pressing your body against his.

Rafael groaned, all the blood from his brain rushing towards his cock. You were playing a dangerous game. “If we keep this up in five more minutes I’m going to be between your legs, fucking you so hard that you’ll forget your own name.”

You nuzzled against his neck as your hand began to palm his growing erection. “Well they do say that testosterone is higher in the morning. Care to put that theory to the test?” 

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone.

With a sigh of defeat, you stopped. “Alright, can’t blame a girl for trying.” You planted one last chaste kiss on the tip of his nose and gently pushed him towards the door. “Go on. Get outta here.”

 “I’ll see you later tonight.” He grabbed his jacket and left the bedroom only to return 30 seconds later. “I forgot something.”

“What did you—” Rafael cut you off with a passionate kiss causing you both to fall back on the bed.  Your heart fluttered. You were so lost in the moment that you forgot how to breathe. You could taste him on your tongue. All too soon the kiss ended and you were left dazed with thoroughly soaked panties.

“I love you,” he purred and playfully nipped on your lower lip before leaving with a smug smile firmly planted on his face.

“Love you too,” you mumbled and held up the shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply. 

*****

A few hours later you were sitting in the small studio at the back of the gallery, dotting leaves onto a canvas. You skipped to the next song on your playlist and stepped back to analyze your work. The painting was of a large, vibrant tree in the center of a grey, bleak city. The tree was designed to look like Rafael. Its leaves matched the color of his eyes. Of course it wasn’t typical for trees to have seafoam green leaves but that was the beauty of art. You even tried to sketch his face in the trunk, its bark resembling his crooked smile and strong aquiline nose. 

Underneath the tree stood the shadowy figure of a woman meant to be you. The tree’s branches were outstretched, gently caressing you, comforting you. In the palms of your hands, you cradled your heart, offering it to the tree as the only possession you had to give. In your opinion, it was the perfect depiction of your relationship. Rafael was your protector. With him, you felt loved, safe, hopeful for the future. He symbolized a new chapter in your life.

Your “Rafael-inspired” piece was meant to be a surprise, since the elusive search for the perfect art for his home was still ongoing. Lucky for him, inspiration struck one rainy Saturday several weeks ago. Well, lazy for you. Rafael was busy typing away on his laptop. Snuggling against him with the rain pattering against the window, a flood of emotions washed over you. The next day you woke up before dawn, grabbed your brushes and paint and snuck over to the studio.

From above the sound of your music playing through your headphones, you heard the door open and turned your head to see your coworker, Phoebe, walk in.

“Bonjour, ma petite aubergine!” she said in a tone that was way too chipper for 8:30 in the morning. 

You snorted a laugh and turned off your music. “Good morning, my little eggplant?” you repeated the phrase.

“I love eggplant,” she replied with a shrug and went to stand behind you, surveying your work. “Hmmm… I like it.”

You made a face. “You sure? It’s not too cheesy?”

She hemmed and hawed for a moment before answering. “A little, but that’s ok. It's the good kind of cheesy.”

A sigh below past your lips. “You sure?”

“Absolutely,” she tried to reassure you. “And anyways, love makes people cheesy.” You blushed and went back to your painting while she milled around the room looking at your other pieces. “Ya’ know, there’s a new artist night at this gallery my friend works for. You should reach out to them. See if they’ll let you show your art. There are enough pieces here to choose from.” You opened your mouth to speak but she cut you off. “And before you say anything, I don’t wanna hear any excuses.” She gently took you by the shoulders and made you stand to face her. “You are incredibly talented and you should share that talent with the world while making a few bucks in the process.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you conceded, glancing back at your unfinished canvas.

Phoebe’s eyes widened. “I am? I mean, of course I am! Damn, this is the first time I’ve ever heard you consider doing a show. That Rafael guy must be a good influence on you.”

“Yeah, he’s the best.” You smiled, thinking back to earlier that morning. 

“Speaking of which,”—she grabbed a spare chair and sat down, getting comfortable—“how did the whole ‘meet the parents’ scenario play out?”

You threw your head back and groaned. “Ugh, why did you have to remind me?”

“Uh-oh. Sounds like we’re gonna need coffee.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’m gonna get a cappuccino from the cafe around the corner. Can I get you something?”

“An Americano and a cinnamon roll.”

“Be back in a flash. I wanna hear all about it. Family drama sustains me, especially when it’s not mine,” she teased before leaving.

You rolled your eyes and began to tidy up. While you stood at the sink, cleaning your brushes, watching the colors swirl and dissolve down the drain, you wondered if Rafael would like his surprise. You hoped he would. It took you hours to get just the right shade of green. 

This gift was a big deal. Apart from your parents, you had never created a piece for anyone else. Your art was private. It was personal. Giving it away was like giving away a part of you. But you and Rafael were beyond that. This past weekend only confirmed what you had known from the moment he stepped into the gallery— that you were his, completely.

The sound of the door opening snapped you out of reverie. “That was fast, Phoebe,” you said over the running water. “I guess the cute barista wasn’t working today cause normally you spend a solid twenty minutes flirting before actually ordering your drink. I’m almost finished here. Give me a sec and then I can tell you about the worst Sunday lunch in the history of the Carisi family and that includes the time my Aunt Anita stabbed my Uncle Tony with a fork. ”

“Awww c’mon, babe. It wasn’t that bad,” said a voice that you recognized all too well. 

Stunned, your hands froze, the brushes clanging against the sink. “This can’t be happening. Please, God don’t let it be him,” you thought, slowly turning around only to find your ex-fiancé standing right in the middle of your studio. 

“Theo,” you stammered. “What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question and took a step towards you with a sinister smile that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

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[hanaasbananas]

100 Ways to say I Love You Chapter 19

I picked these for you (Marichat)

Note: takes place before the events of Chapter 5

AO3

“Will you do me the honour of accompanying me to the ball- ugh no that’s too formal” Adrien muttered angrily to himself as he walked, tugging at his coat to make sure he looked presentable.

Some might have said it was serendipito0us that Adrien had fallen from his horse on the stretch of country road that ran behind the Dupain bakery; that despite his protests, the owner-Tom-had insisted that on taking him in and allowing him to recover in his own home; that he’d had his mask with him and was able to conceal his identity as a nobleman's son.

Adrien himself wasn’t the type to believe in such things, but still, he found himself praying to the fates as he made his way back to the bakery.

It had been two months now since he had last been there. Two months since he had last seen Monsieur Dupains daughter-Marinette. Two months of sleepless nights as he lay awake thinking about her until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He’d only known Marinette for three weeks, but somehow she had made a place for herself in his heart, haunting his every waking moment, haunted his dreams with her blue eyes, and her laughter, and her kindness.

Though he hadn’t been able to do much work while he healed, Adrien had insisted on helping out as much as he could, and Marinette hadn’t laughed at his pitiful attempts to bake, or his terrible milking skills. Rather, she’d taught him-never once losing patience like his tutors would have after the third attempt at explaining.

Truthfully, he hadn’t ever wanted to leave.

“Oh, God,” Adrien stopped in his tracks, staring at his empty hands in horror before spinning on his heel and veering into the fields. How could he have forgotten? He berated himself furiously, looking around at the wildflowers, searching for the best ones.

Well. At least now he had some extra time to think about what he’d say.

***

“Maman, I’m just going to the market for the fishmonger-” she cut off abruptly as she opened the door to see Chat Noir standing on the other side, his hand poised to knock.

Marinette blinked. “ Chat?”

“The one and only.”

She thought she’d never see him again. After he’d left, she’d tried to put him out of her mind, and had only been partially successful.

Marinette liked to think that she was a sensible girl. The type who didn’t get carried away with flights of fancy, or romantic notions about love. She was practical, maintaining the house while maman helped papa in the bakery, and making sure the bakery ran smoothly by ensuring the wellbeing of their animals. Marinette had even begun to make a name for herself in the village as a talented seamstress, and so always had a project of her own at any given time. In a year or two, she would be of marriageable age, and her parents were sure to find a suitable match for her. This practicality would suit her well then, and she was sure to be content.

It wasn’t until she met Chat Noir, that Marinette realised that happiness and contentment were not one and the same.

“I-” Marinette began “I-what are you doing here?”

Chat didn’t answer. “I picked these for you-” he said instead, thrusting a small bouquet of wildflowers into her hands. “Will you walk with me?”

She bit her lip, looking over her shoulder back into the house. “Alright.” Marinette tightened the shawl around her shoulders, stepping out and closing the door. “I was just going to the market, so do you mind…?”

“No, no! Of course not!” Chat exclaimed, walking beside her as she set off down the path. “So…” Marinette trailed off awkwardly “What brings you back here again?”

Chat frowned. “I couldn’t have just wanted to see my friend?”

She looked down at the flowers she’d put in her basket. “Do you give all your friends flowers?”

“Only you.” He grinned “pretty flowers for a pretty lady. Though these blossoms pale in comparison to your own beauty.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Flatterer.” It was a cool day, the wind biting at her cheeks, and Marinette hoped that he would believe the flush on her cheeks to be caused by the weather. She’d almost forgotten how Chat made her feel with just a few words, how he sent her heart racing and made her laugh with his dramatics.

“I speak only the truth, my lady”

Arriving at the market, they didn’t speak much, walking in companionable silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence, and it was only when they began to walk back to the bakery that Chat spoke again.

“Actually, Marinette, I did have an ulterior motive in coming to see you today.” At her prompting, he continued “I’m sure you’ve heard of the ball that’s being held in a week's time?”

Marinette nodded. Invitations had been extended to everyone, regardless of station or rank, and Marinette had been flooded with requests for ball gowns and dresses by the girls in the village.

“Well, I-” Chat licked his lips “I wanted to ask, if you would accompany me. To the ball.”

“What?” Marinette stopped in her tracks, staring at Chat incredulously. He couldn’t mean…”Chat you can’t mean that. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb in a place like that!”

“You’ll be the most beautiful person there.” His vibrant green eyes were trained intently on hers. “Anyone else in attendance would pale in comparison.”

“That’s kind of you to say,” she ducked her head “but we both know that isn’t true.”

“It is to me.” Chat stepped closer to her, taking her hand in his. “Marinette,” he looked down at their hands, “I have spent so long in your world, getting to know you, falling in-after I fell that day. I simply ask that you step foot in mine, if only for a day.” He met her gaze earnestly, his eyes searching hers. “I understand completely, if you do not wish to go, and I will not press the matter further, but...”

“You’ll-” Marinette cleared her throat, interrupting him. “You’ll be there?” she asked quietly, not quite believing the words coming out of her mouth; that she was actually considering accepting his invitation.

“Yes. I will be at your side, the entire time. You have my word.” 

What could be the harm? Marinette swallowed roughly, her mind running through all the possibilities. Chat had never lied to her before, and surely, she’d never get such a chance again. Why shouldn’t she go?  “Very well.” She said, nodding once, resolutely to herself, finding herself smiling in response to the grin that had spread across Chat’s face at her answer. 

“Will you come, then?”

Marinette had always thought that she was a sensible girl. Maybe it was time to be impulsive for once.

“Yes.”

[sittinginacornerihaunted]

august

masterlist

content warnings: some cursing? mentions of alcohol and drinking

word count: 5,189

Chapter 1

I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try.

He was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. And I know that’s a cliche statement, but in this case, it was one hundred percent true. He walked past me with a gait that both intimidated and intrigued me. He walked as though he knew he would never falter, never trip, and never fall. He had a jawline that looked as if it were chiseled by Zeus himself. His curly brown hair fell right above his eyes, not completely masking his bold eyebrows. And his eyes. Oh my god, his eyes. The more I looked at them, the more I got lost. They were a deep hazel, with specks of green and gold, that could surely be seen from space. His hands were encapsulating, as if they had a magnetic force emitting from them, pulling me towards him. The way he briefly touched his beautiful lips with the tips of his fingertips did something to me I couldn’t explain.

I realized I was staring and quickly tried to pull my attention back to the book I was reading, but I continued to glance up at him. He walked by me, close enough that I could feel the slight breeze he caused to blow past me. It vaguely smelled like cedar, cotton, and- was that vanilla? I looked at him briefly before he walked completely out of my eyesight and let myself dream for a second. Who was that? And why have I never seen him before? Okay sure, campus is about 40,000 people large, but still. He was in my vicinity now, so surely he had a class around here.

Okay, that was enough daydreaming. I tried to inhale his scent once more before checking the time. My watch said 12:36 pm which meant that my next class was in twenty-four minutes. I spread myself out on the ground by the tree I was at and continued to read. Today was the first day of my Criminology class, so I wasn’t too nervous about getting any studying in beforehand. Plus, the class was huge, so I didn’t need to worry about getting called on to answer a question if I didn’t want to. I checked my phone before getting up and making my way to class. It was a beautiful day out, as if that boy- excuse me, man, I saw earlier created the perfect environment for him to walk in. The sun was shining but there were just enough clouds speckling the deep blue sky. The trees were a vibrant green, going perfectly with the freshly cut grass. It felt impossibly perfect, considering it was the middle of August. Shouldn’t it be excruciatingly hot? But no, the breeze felt perfect on my warm skin and didn’t cause a chill as I picked up the pace into the Behavioral Sciences Building.

As I walked through the glass door, I felt the chill of the AC hit me as soon as my foot graced the tile floor. It immediately sent a shiver down my spine, similar to the one I felt earlier when that immortal in human form glided past me. I felt myself lose focus and completely miss the elevator I planned on using. I shook it off and pretended like walking to the stairs was what I had intended all along. I opened the door to the corridor and began ascending the stairs that seemed to never end. I checked my watch one more time, to assure that I was still on time, and I was actually ahead of my own extremely strict schedule. As I reached the floor I needed, I took out my phone to scroll mindlessly while I waited for my professor. Of course, I was here before anyone else. My mom always told me “on time is late and early is on time,” so I always made sure to be early by her standards: at least fifteen minutes before any event was supposed to start. But not for parties. I promise I’m not that much of a nerd. Maybe.

Anyways, I took a seat in the third row, close enough that I could see the front without straining my eyes, but not so close that I would be able to eyefuck my professor throughout the lecture. Not that I would. But I’ve seen some try. I don’t understand why people have a professor kink, but to each their own I guess. I stuck my nose into my twitter feed and waited for time to pass. About thirty seconds later, I heard the door open. I expected to see another student, but instead I saw the God that had graced my presence earlier. I tried to stop my jaw from flying open, but I failed miserably. Trying to play it cool, I tucked my hair behind my ear and started to organize my things for class. I looked up at him, seeing that he was already, was he? Staring at me? But I managed a meek smile and basically whispered the word “Hi.” His mouth moved and he spoke the word “Hello” before taking a seat at the front of the class. This kid was the professor? What was I supposed to do? Not stare at him the whole class? I just decided to keep my head down and try to focus solely on moving around my things, whether purposeful or not.

About fifteen minutes passed and as more students strolled into the lecture hall, the man I am definitely not staring at, began to write his name on the large whiteboard at the front of the class. “Dr. Reid.” Hmm. Sounds pretty formal. I instantly began to wonder if he was going to be a hardass and to dread the drudgery that I may encounter throughout this semester. I was taking six classes with a course load that could make a grown man cry. Or in my case, a 19-year-old girl. I do my best to pay attention throughout the lecture, rather than staring at the beautiful man in front of me. The class’s material genuinely interested me, but I couldn’t get over the fact that this man, who I thought was a (gorgeous) student, was my professor. He looked too young to be a professor. Far too young to be a Doctor. How quickly was he able to get his degree? Or maybe I’m just terrible at guessing ages, which I usually am.

Before I got too lost in thought, I heard a firm voice come from the top of the room. “Hello everyone. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid and I will be your Criminology professor this semester. You can call me Spencer, Professor Reid, or Dr. Reid, I really don’t mind. Before we get started today, I want to tell you all a little bit about me.” He clears his throat and leans back on his desk, laid in perfectly in the center of the room, and I see his dress pants crease slightly. I shake myself in desperate need to pay attention to the words he was saying, rather than his legs, which I could only assume were as perfect as the rest of him. I tried not to aim my gaze around his waist but it seemed to land there all on its own.

“I have a full-time position at the FBI with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They allow me time off on Mondays and Wednesdays to teach, which is how I’m here today” He chuckles lightly. “We work on serial cases and the occasional kidnapping case across the country. We use our knowledge of human behavior to analyze the serial killers we chase down. It helps us understand why they do what they do and what their next move might be. I’ve always found human behavior extremely interesting, which is what brought you all here today I hope.”

He walks around his desk and gathers a large stack of papers in his hands. Oh god, those hands. His fingers were long and slender, and his veins were so prominent, it should be illegal to have hands that attractive. I, once again, caught myself before he made his way down the middle of the row of seats, handing a small section of the papers to the student sitting at the end of each row. He made his way to the third row and handed me a portion of the papers. I took the stack from his hands and briefly looked up and found him looking right into my eyes. My breath hitched as I tried to focus myself and not fumble the papers everywhere. I collected myself and took a syllabus for myself and passed them down my row. Soon enough, I found myself looking back at him as he handed the rest of the syllabi out, hopefully not drawing attention to myself. He walked back down the steps and placed himself at the front of the lecture hall. “I understand that the majority of you will find it strange that I am handing out physical copies of the syllabus, but I have always preferred hard copies to digital ones, and I believe that should apply to students as well. In fact, direct mail requires twenty-one percent less cognitive effort to process than digital media, suggesting that it is both easier to understand and more memorable. Post-exposure memory tests validated what a cognitive load test revealed about direct mail’s memory encoding capabilities. When asked to cite the brand of an advertisement they had just seen, recall was seventy percent higher among participants who were exposed to a direct mail piece than a digital ad. Long story short, handwrite your notes.” A small wave of laughter settled over the class. I found myself smiling like a giddy schoolgirl, staring at Dr. Spencer Reid. How am I supposed to focus when he looks like that? I guess I’ll have to figure it out.

The rest of the class went smoothly. The handsome professor went over the syllabus and his expectations for us in his class. The clock struck 2 pm and I found myself writing down the reading assigned for tonight. Reading? Who assigns reading on the first day of classes? No matter, I read the beginning of our textbook ahead of time, so I didn’t find myself too worried. I stuffed my papers and my journal into my bookbag and tried not to stumble as I gathered my things to walk out of class. I walked past the man I had been trying, and failing, not to stare at for the entirety of the class period. I smiled a small smile and softly said “Thank you” as I walked out the door. He smiled back and waved softly as I melted into the hallway.

I had three classes on Mondays and I always tried to end my day as early as possible, so I walked back to my on-campus apartment; Criminology was my last class of the day. Yes, I start my day earlier than 8 am and I can probably be classified as certifiably insane. At least, according to my roommate’s standards. As I entered the cramped apartment, I found my roommate, Amber, asleep on the couch, a tv show playing softly on her laptop. I laughed at the sight of her, limbs everywhere and mouth agape, wondering how she could sleep like that in the middle of the day. It didn’t matter, she knew what worked best for her. She was one of the most accomplished people in our class. She majored in Political Science and International Studies and she seemed to ace every class with ease. I was in awe of her in that regard, as well as her ability to nap at any time and anywhere. We met each other last year in our Freshman Honors lecture and we had been attached at the hip ever since. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as close and safe with a person as I did Amber. I trusted her with all of my secrets and she trusted me with hers. I was extremely grateful to have her in my life.

Scoffing at Amber, I made my way to my bedroom and sat my stuff down in the corner of the room. I jumped onto my bed and began to scroll mindlessly on my phone. About fifteen minutes passed before Amber barged into my room. “Amber!” I jumped, embarrassingly startled by her entrance, “Jesus Christ, you scared the fuck out of me, I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” she started, “but now I’m not. Funny how sleeping works like that.” I roll my eyes at her. “Anyways,” she continues, “I heard there was gonna be a big party tonight in honor of the first week of classes and I was thinking we would go!” She bounces on the balls of her feet, smiling innocently at me.

“Amber, you know I don’t really party” I say.

“I knowwwww but… I thought I could drag you out tonight?” She clasps her hands dramatically. “Please? I just want to have some fun with you before we’re both consumed by homework. Please? I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.” She smiles her stupid smile again.

“Okay fine, I give in.” I say and she jumps up and down.

“Thank you Y/N!! You won’t regret this!” She says as she exits my room. I sure hope not, I think to myself as she closes the door. I go back to scrolling on my phone before setting it down to take a nap before getting ready to go out tonight. I never stay up late so I needed to prepare myself if I was going to stay out all night. I know Amber will want to get drunk and party until at least 5 am, and I wasn’t about to abandon her just to get a good night’s sleep. This could be fun, right?

---

I stare at myself in the mirror as I put on my tightest fitting dress. It was a red bodycon dress that I never felt especially confident in, but tonight I felt pretty good! I put on a pair of simple black heels to go with it. Normally I would wear something more practical, like shorts and a crop top, or something a little more moveable, but Amber insisted we go all out. “If this is the only party you’re going to this semester, you need to look your best! Why not?!” I couldn’t argue with her, she was right. I might as well look good, who knows, maybe I’ll meet someone tonight. I hadn’t had a real relationship since, well, ever. I was never one to put myself out there. I always focused on my studies and I worked part-time jobs whenever I could. Relationships and romance were never a top priority for me. Sure, it would be nice, but I could live without it. I had much more important things to tend to. Amber was helping me forget about all of those responsibilities tonight, which I admit, was a nice feeling. I sat down at my desk to finish my makeup and touch up my hair before I presented my look to Amber. I stood up, smoothed out my dress, and walked out of my bedroom, doing a dramatic twirl for her. “Ooooh, GIRL! You look hot!!!” She squealed and I smiled wide as I bounced over to her.

“So do you!! Bitch you always look good, how DARE you!” I said teasingly as I dramatically fawned over her. We grabbed our phones with our ID’s (real and fake) and some money tucked in the cases of them, not wanting to carry much else with us. I double-checked to make sure I had everything put away and everything with me that I needed. Amber stood in the doorway, checking her wrist as though she was checking the time, silently telling me to hurry up and that I was worrying over nothing. I sighed, “Okay, okay!” and ran out the door behind her. I triple-checked that we locked the door and followed Amber down the stairs of the apartment complex.

We made our way down to the lobby and out of the building’s front doors, the temperate climate and humid breeze hitting us as we walked to the edge of the street. Amber and I turned our heads to see our Uber approaching from the left and I double-checked to make sure that the car was definitely ours and that the driver inside matched the picture from the app. Amber always told me that I was too skeptical and cautious, but I don’t think that’s even possible, being a woman in the twenty-first century. An Uber driver could be a kidnapper or a serial killer, who knows! As soon as I verified the Uber’s identity, Amber climbed over to the far side of the car as I trailed behind her. I sat down on the covered seat and looked over as Amber gave the driver the location of the bar we were headed to. A feeling in my gut started to arise but I wasn’t sure what it was. Probably just nerves, I told myself as I took a few deep breaths and looked out the window. I tend to get nervous about almost any event, regardless of the severity of the situation. Amber asked the man sitting in front of us if she could play some music from her phone and he obliged. She proceeded to put on “Party in the U.S.A” by Miley Cyrus and I looked at her and grinned. This was always our going out song. We danced in the back of the car and sang obnoxiously loud in preparation for the night.

We finally arrived at the bar in which one of the biggest parties in the school was happening. Honestly, I’m more into house parties, but the only house parties here are the ones happening in frat houses and I am not down for getting drugged and harassed by rich, white, republican frat guys. We paid (and tipped) the Uber driver and made our way into the club. The line wasn’t long at all, considering most people had gotten there as early as socially acceptable to maximize their partying time. The bouncer let us through (thank GOD because I spent enough money on that fake ID) and we danced our way through the crowd and to the bar. We met up with a group of friends from our shared freshman year English 101 class and proceeded to get a round of tequila shots. One round turned into four and into ten. One could say I was officially wasted. I don’t normally party, but when I do, I party hard. Go hard or go home, right? Thanks to my not-completely-ruined inhibitions, I made my way to the bartender and asked for a large glass of water. “Party-pooper!” Amber slurred as she grabbed my shoulder for leverage.

“Hey! I just don’t wanna be super hungover tomorrow. It’s literally-” I hiccupped and giggled as I stared into Amber’s eyes, trying to gain some semblance of solidity in my footing, “It’s literally only Monday. I have three classes tomorrow and I always start my days earlier, you know this! I don’t wanna be drunk at my 8 am lecture!” I basically yelled at Amber’s face because the music and bass were so loud, I couldn’t hear my own thoughts.

“Okay, okay!” Amber shouted back at me, “Take a seat at the bar lame-o! I am gonna dance with that cute guy over there and maybeee you and I won’t be leaving together.” She pointed to a tall, blonde-haired man who was smiling and staring at Amber. She waved a flirty hand at him and started to walk away but her hand lingered on my shoulder.

“Amber!” I grabbed her wrist before she walked away, because I was not standing up right now. “Just… Be careful, okay? Text me if you do leave with him because I do not want anything happening to you. And I expect you to update me with texts with your location when you leave and if anything else happens okay? I love you, you know that right?” My fears were sobering me up quicker than the water was.

“I know! I love you too, silly. I promise I will be careful. I’ll make sure I know he is who he says he is before we leave and I won’t let him drive, we’ll take an Uber or something, okay? I don’t even know if I will leave with him, I was just thinking about it.” She paused for a second. “Thank you for caring about me, Y/N. I really do love you.” She smiled at me and I smiled back as she walked away to go dance with the handsome stranger across the floor.

My happy feelings dwindled for a moment as I sobered up and realized I was no longer a part of any group. Mine and Amber’s friend group had dispersed across the bar and the dancefloor, all trying to go home with someone. I would make that my mission too but frankly, I was too drunk to be completely aware of the goings on around me. I took out my phone and pulled up the Uber app, ready to go home. My plans changed when I looked around me and saw a familiar face at the very end of the bar. Dr. Reid? Why is he here? This bar is mainly occupied by college students, plus today was a huge party day, it didn’t make sense. Against my better judgement, I found myself standing up and walking towards him. I tried my hardest to walk straight and keep my eyes focused. I didn’t want to make my first real impression with him, one of me being blackout drunk. I downed the rest of my water before making my way to him. “Professor?” I questioned as he stared off into the distance.

“Oh! Hi. I’m sorry, what was your name again?” He asked nervously. Why did he seem nervous? I don’t think I ever told him my name. In fact, I barely think I even said hello.

“Oh, it’s Y/N.” I smiled at him. Normally, I would extend a hand to greet someone of authority, like him, but my hands were clammy and probably dirty from being in a bar like this. I hope he doesn’t think I’m weird. He looked down, expecting me to extend a hand as well, I assume. He looks back up and meets my eyes.

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” He says.

“You too.” I say and smile. We’re both quiet for a moment and I look around, trying to think of something to say. I’m so awkward. I take a deep breath, in hopes that it would spur a thought or initiate something to come out of my mouth, but it doesn’t.

“You look very nice.” He says and I come short of shaking my head in surprise.

“Thank you! My friend insisted we dress up tonight.” I laugh softly and smooth my dress down with my hands. Should I compliment him too? Would that be weird? “Um, if you don’t mind me asking,” I continue, “why are you out at a student bar tonight? I assume you knew about the party happening?” I don’t know where the confidence came from for me to ask him a question, but I was curious nonetheless.

“Um,” He chuckles and looks at the ground for a moment. “My friend and I were out with our coworkers and he insisted on coming here afterwards. I mentioned the parties that are thrown during the first week of classes and he couldn’t resist, I guess.” He nodded his head to point me in the direction of a very handsome man, dancing with a woman who couldn’t be much older than me.

I laugh and turn back to him. “Are you not the partying type, Dr. Reid?” I don’t know where these conversational skills were coming from. I had a hard time opening up to people my own age, much less authority figures.

“Not really. I mostly teach, work, and go home, to be quite honest.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Please, sit down, you don’t have to stand. I’m sure those shoes aren’t really meant for standing.”

“Thank you.” I laugh at his comment about my shoes. “Yeah, I wouldn’t say they’re the most comfortable pair I own.” I take the seat next to my professor. “And me too, for the most part. My friend kinda dragged me out here tonight.”

“And where’s your friend now?” He questions. I point to the far corner of the club, where Amber was grinding on the man she was telling me about earlier.

“She’s a little more outgoing than me.” I laugh and ask the bartender for another glass of water. I can tell he’s looking at me from the corner of my eye. Why does that make me so nervous? I instinctually start to bite the nails on my left hand. I barely noticed I had started doing that, so I didn’t expect my professor to notice it at all.

“Are you nervous?” He asks and I pull my nails away from my mouth.

“Um, I guess so? I don’t go out too often and new places and people tend to make me anxious, I guess.” I look down at the bar and the glass in my hands.

“I get that.” He says.

“Um, do you mind if I ask how old you are? I’m sorry if that’s a little bit out of nowhere, I just remember you introduced yourself as Doctor this morning in class, and I initially thought you couldn’t be much older than me.” My curiosity got the best of me, I suppose.

“Uh, I’m 28. I have three PhDs in chemistry, mathematics, and engineering.” He rattles the list off as if he says it every day.

“Woah, what are you, like a genius or something? How the hell did you get three PhDs before 28?” I cover my mouth almost immediately. “I’m sorry for cursing, I don’t know, is that not appropriate?” I blush and look down again.

He chuckles, “No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. And I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and I can read 20,000 words per minute so, yes, I guess technically, I am a genius.” He smiles at me and- is that a smirk I see?

My jaw practically flies open. “Wow, I guess I’ll have to try extra hard in class to impress you.” I find my courage again and look into his eyes. I almost immediately get lost in the swirls of gold and green. I find myself blushing again and somehow more words leave my mouth. “Would you, um, like to go talk outside? It’s really loud in here and my throat is getting sore.” I begin to stand up after he nods. I look for Amber and as soon as I make eye contact with her across the room, I mime typing on my phone as a signal for her to text me and that I’ll text her with whatever I’m doing. What am I doing? Am I going to talk to my professor and leave? Or am I going to leave with him? No, I can’t even think about that, that’s ridiculous. Whatever, Y/N, just worry about getting outside of the bar.

I push the heavy wooden door of the club open, exiting while Dr. Reid follows. I make my way towards the edge of the building, the music muffled by the walls. I lean up against the stone wall of the building and fiddle with my phone in my hands.

“Is this weird? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be blunt but, you’re my professor. Do you normally talk to students at bars or was this just a weird coincidence? Or is this not weird, considering we’re not too far apart in age, I guess, and I mean, we’re both adults, right? I’m sorry I’m rambling I just feel awkward I guess I’m not sure what to say, um…” I cut myself off and look away, trying to find solace in the air around me.

He laughs again. Why is his laugh so attractive? “No, I don’t think it’s weird. It’s nice to have a conversation every once in a while, even if it’s with a student. Even if it’s outside a college bar. I don’t find much time to talk about topics that aren’t serial killers or behavioral analysis.” I jump as he uses his hand to bring my face and my eyes back to his. What was that? “I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just don’t want you to feel nervous or like you can’t talk to me. I really do enjoy talking to students, and just other people in general. Most people don’t enjoy talking to me so it’s nice when I find someone that does.” He blushes. Wait, he blushed? Why are his cheeks turning red?

“Well, I enjoy a good conversation too. And it’s okay, I just didn’t expect you to touch me, I guess.” I pause for a second. “Why wouldn’t someone want to talk to you? You must have so much knowledge to share, being a genius and all.”

“I guess that’s why,” he begins, “people find my rambling to be annoying. I want to share the knowledge I have, but that’s not always what constitutes a good conversation in some people’s opinion.”

“Well, not in my opinion.” I say boldly. I feel sober but drunk at the same time. Sober me would definitely not be having this conversation in the first place. But I don’t feel drunk, I feel… grounded. And focused. But I feel tipsy, like this conversation is affecting me the same way as alcohol. Maybe I shouldn’t think too much about it. You’re blowing it, Y/N. Blowing what?

He smiles and looks down at the ground. I find myself reaching my arm out and placing a finger below his chin, gently nudging his head back up to look at me. He looks surprised. I quickly pull away and begin to play with my hands again. I check the time on my phone: 5 am. Has it really been four hours? It barely felt like fifteen minutes. “I should probably get going soon, I have class in, holy shit, three hours, and I would like to get at least a little sleep before then. It was really nice officially meeting you, Dr. Reid.” I begin to make my way back to the entrance of the bar to find Amber and get us both home.

“Please, call me Spencer.” He says and turns as I start walking away. I pause my movements.

“Okay. Spencer.” I smile and disappear into the bar.

[agustdomain]

Ventana

Synopsis: Your favorite window seat and silence were unexpected allies in the love that grew between you and your neighbor. 

Word count: 6k (a baby considering my other works but I love it just the same)

Genre: neighbor!au, boynextdoor!au, fluff, nothing too grand but it is something light-hearted. 

Warnings: Some language. Teeth-rottening sweetness, really. 

Pairing: Jisung x Reader, ft. Chenle, Jaemin and Jeno!

Author’s Note: Hey friends! This is a short and sweet dessert to hold you over for the main course coming up! I missed my dreamies so I wanted to write something for them. But I can’t wait for your thoughts on my chris work coming up. I have lots planned for the summer so brace yourselves! ~Angelo

The sun was heartless on this beautiful summer day. The window you lounged beside had been your absolute favorite spot in said house since your family moved in when you were younger . Most summers growing up, it was hard for your sisters to convince you to move from that little window seat. The summers were solely yours- that was, until Jisung started staining them.

Looking back on it, all of your favorite memories of Jisung were bathed in summer glow.

Your first memory was when you were eight years old. Mid-June, perched on your window seat and reading through the Goosebumps books you owned one by one. Your mom had forced you and your sisters to go introduce yourselves to his family next door. You were brief with him, but he was super quiet and only stared at you wide-eyed and with nothing to say.

Back then he didn’t have glasses yet. He was a short, lanky boy with a bowl cut, peeking at you from his second story window almost every single day that summer. It made you smile behind the pages, the first time in a long time distracted from the words filling your mind. After the first time you noticed, however,  you ignored him for the rest of that summer. You didn’t even pay him mind when his curtains would obviously dance whenever he thought you were going to catch him watching you.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Your second memory was when you were twelve.

Your oldest sister Chaeryeong- 13 and a fire in her blood like mom-adamantly insisted that you and your younger sister join her for the school dance. If Chae was one thing, it was persuasive. You wouldn’t have gone, after all, if she wasn’t going to use her saved up allowance money to buy you a new DS game. 

Besides, you had been wanting to wear your new summer dress for a while now. And it wasn’t going to hurt to see your friends one last time before the school year ended. 

Yuna, the youngest and 11 at the time, complained the entire car ride there. Chae knew the exact words to shut her up, sharing a look with you from the passenger seat before dramatically drawing out, “I just remembered who’s going to be there!”

Yuna narrowed her eyes at the headrest before her, causing you to stifle a laugh.

“That’s right! Ryu told me that Chenle was coming tonight!”

Yuna glared at you as you tried and failed to stop smiling. “Shut up,” She crossed her arms defiantly, “I don’t care if he’s going.”

You all knew perfectly well that Yuna was sporting major heart eyes for the boy who had recently moved in down the street with his family. Even your mom was hiding behind her smile in the driver seat.

“Leave her alone,” She said, though her tone suggested her scolding wasn’t serious. Chae’s methods worked though, as Yuna was silent the rest of the ride there, fiddling with her dress and hair. 

Inside the small gymnasium, you quickly wondered if a DS game was worth the stifling and humid air. The lights were flashing green and blue, and the air still smelled like sneakers and basketballs. And sweat. 

“Chae!” Yuna whined as your eldest sister forgot all about you two at the sight of her best friends. “She drives me crazy!”

“Tell me about it,” You told her, your eyes scanning the dark room. You couldn’t spot any of your friends, but you didn’t really want to walk through your sweaty peers. “I’m starting to wonder if a DS game was worth this!”

Yuna looked over at you, face shocked. “You’re getting a game out of this?”

Eventually, you and your sister got comfortable on the bleachers, playing hand games to pass the time. Soon, you got bored and quiet as you observed your classmates around you. For some reason, the darkness and loud music gave them the excuse to act like they were adults. 

“Do you see Jeno over there? He’s dancing so close to Ryujin! I didn’t even think that was allowed,” Yuna whispered, face flushed from the heat of the room. How was a school dance a good idea in May?

“Look,” You pointed at the chaperone beelining toward them, “They’re about to get yelled at.” You both broke into fits of laughter as your school’s P.E. teacher wiggled his arms dramatically, Ryujin quickly scattering away as Jeno tried to talk down his coach.

“Chae would get in so much trouble with mom if she did that,” Yuna shivered at the thought.

“She’s smarter than Ryu, though.”

“Is she, though?”

“Fair point.”

Then, something strange happened. One moment, you two were gossiping more than you should have been, the next there were two boys in front of you. 

Zhong Chenle was awkward and his haircut was one he usually hid under a beanie. Tonight, it was slicked back with gel, a red bowtie bright somehow in the dark room. But not as bright as his smile. Beside him was the neighbor who always liked to quietly watch you from his bedroom window, Park Jisung. 

Jisung was always quiet, even in class. Never speaking up unless prompted to by Mr. Harris. Yet, he was still one of Mr. Harris’ favorites. He was about the same height as Chenle back then, his presence less vibrant. Yet, you still noticed him. 

“You’re Y/N,” Chenle pointed a finger at you, then trailed it over to your sister, “And Yuna, right?”

Yuna gawked up at him, utterly floored by the presence of her crush. Not to mention, the fact that he was talking to her. Elbowing her, you smiled.

“Yes, that’s us.”

“I’m Chenle,” He reached his hand out to shake yours, always keeping that bright smile. His hand lingered on your sister’s, and you were slightly worried she was going to pass out. “This here is Jisung. I’m sure you’ve met him before.”

You nodded slightly, feeling his eyes on you. “We’re neighbors. And in the same class.”

“We just noticed you were sitting all alone and realized that hey, we’re the life of the party, and if we bring the party to you,” Chenle tapped his chin before shouting, “You won’t feel so alone anymore!”

You blinked at him. “Uhhhh-” Your eyes trailed to Jisung behind him then, his mouth urgently mouthing something to you as he frantically and subtly pointed at something. You realized what he was mouthing at the same time Chenle stuttered while talking to Yuna. 

He likes her, he mouthed at you. 

Smiling mischievously, you stretched your arms out like a cat waking up from a nap, “Yeah, I’m feeling pretty tired actually.”

“Me too,” Jisung mocked your fake yawn, taking a seat beside you. 

With a smile you could barely hide, you said, “But Yuna loves to dance. I always catch her dancing to Jesse McCartney late at night when she thinks we’re all asleep.”

“Y/N! Why would you-” Yuna, who looked mortified, quickly grew quiet when Chenle’s face brightened.

“I love Jesse McCartney,” Chenle’s smile was kind, sweet. As he and Yuna shared a moment, you realized that your sister’s dream was unravelling before you. All she needed was a chance. 

Soon, it was just you and Jisung. The silence was awkward, but you didn’t mind as you daydreamed about the new game you were going to get. Should you get Nintendogs? Everyone talks about it these days.

“He hasn’t stopped talking about her since the day I met him,” Jisung talked so quietly, you almost missed it. But something about his voice, as quiet as it was, you would still hear even if you were miles apart. Okay, that was dramatic but it was crazy you heard him in the first place.

“Same goes for Yuna. She wouldn’t move from the porch since the day he moved in.”

Jisung cracked a smile. “I always wondered why she would be out there all day.”

You played with the hem of your dress, side-eyeing the boy beside him. For the first time, you realized just how cute his face was. Shaking the thought away, you rose to your feet and hopped down each bleacher before reaching the bottom. Looking up at Jisung, you missed how he never stopped looking at you. “I heard there’s some leftover cookies. We gotta find them. You in?”

“As long as they’re not raisin or oatmeal.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Your third memory? You were fifteen and going through a romantic and contemporary book phase. Why was that special? Well, it meant that window seats weren’t romantic enough anymore and you needed the outdoors to immerse you in the experiences of Jane Austen. 

Chae had a secret boyfriend now- not so secret since your mom knew just about everything courtesy of Yuna’s big mouth, but Chae thought she was being sly. Now that she had a part-time job, her bribery with you was bigger and better, and free money had always been your biggest weakness. 

Which is why you were always stuck third-wheeling when you went to the park. Chae ignored your huffs and puffs as she cooed and kissed her boyfriend Renjun. Beneath the trees, as Darcy drew you in and the sounds of swings creaking became your background music, you could forget about the gross PDA your sister never spared you from. 

That was, until one day Chae got smacked in the face with a basketball. 

“What the f-” Renjun jumped to his feet as Chae held her nose, blood pouring from behind her hand. 

Your eyes were wide, book forgotten as you crouched near her. As you rummaged through your bag, then hers, a shaky voice gathered your attention.

“I-I’m so sorry. It banked off the headboard and went flying!” Eyes trailing up the Nike shoes, the red basketball shorts, the shirt too big for the boy before you, Jisung held his hands up in surrender as his face drowned in sweat and worry. 

“You think that makes it okay?” Renjun snapped, picking up the basketball then chucking it at Jisung. Jisung, unprepared, coughed at the impact with his chest. 

“Hey!” another boy, one you think was named Jaemin, appeared behind Jisung. Narrowing his eyes he said, “Watch it, Ren. It was just an accident.”

“He made my girlfriend bleed. You think I give a shit?”

“Oh, take a chill pill,” Your words came out cruel, but frankly Renjun was being more dramatic than Chae at this point. Renjun regarded you with disbelief, then barely concealed disgust before he noticed Jisung jogging away from them. “Hey! Hey where do you think you’re-”

Jaemin stepped in front of Renjun, his face stern. “I’m not going to tell you again to calm down.” As they began to argue, you pulled Chae’s hair from her face. “You okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. It just won’t stop bleeding.”

White flashed beside your face, and the both of you looked up. Trailing up the thin arm, your eyes found a bent over Jisung  holding a tissue out for her to take. His face, beyond embarrassed. Yet, he still bravely ignored the fuming boyfriend who was in the middle of being scolded. 

“I really am sorry.”

“I know, Jisung. I am too. For, you know,” Chae laughed, taking the tissue and standing up, shaking her head at Renjun before walking away to take care of herself. Jisung lingered, long after Renjun cursed at him and stormed after her, even after Jaemin retrieved the basketball and told him the others were waiting. 

Gathering you and Chae’s belongings, you practically bumped into him as you rose to your feet. “Oh, you’re still here,” his face falling made you backtrack quickly, “What I meant was, are you okay?”

A laugh broke from him, startling you. You had never heard him laugh. “I just hurt your sister and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “Well, I know how it feels to be singled out. Renjun had no right to treat you that way. Just between us, Chae should’ve dumped him a long time ago.” You started to walk away. Just as you took a few steps, you looked back at Jisung. 

Sweat lining his hair, face flushed from shame or from basketball you didn’t know. For the first time, you found yourself really looking at him. Seeing not just a neighbor you hardly know, but a boy whose laugh you wouldn’t mind hearing again. 

“Thanks again… Jisung.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Your fourth memory was when you were seventeen and Yuna fulfilled the prophecy of her and Chenle’s fated love. 

With their love came a bond of association with none other than Jisung. 

From one day to the next, Jisung became the young boy you caught glimpses of from your favorite window seat to sitting straight-backed on the sofa in your living room, just as silent as always.

Jisung didn’t suit your old-styled living room. He was bigger than this library haven. He was an entire book series, the longer you looked at him. A complete mystery except to those who opened him up.

When Yuna, Chenle, and Jisung casually chattered throughout the movie playing on the television, you found yourself re-reading the same paragraph of your current read over and over. 

Giving up in frustration, you peeked out from the top of the book just as Jisung quietly laughed at the comedy playing in the background. He had a nice laugh, one that softened his features. Now, he wore these round glasses that made him look super cute. 

Something funny happened in the movie again because Jisung smiled. You liked how he looked, like life was easy. He must’ve sensed your creepy staring because he looked over at you. Quickly,  you retreated back behind your book- but not before shooting him what you hoped was a charming smile. You think it was, because he shifted in his seat and quickly looked away.

As you flipped through your book, you wondered if this was the first time someone made you feel like your favorite fictional characters did. Maybe you understood how a real-life Augustus Waters would be.

When you were eighteen, you and Jisung had become good friends, so much that you forgot about all those hidden moments. Looking back on it, you couldn’t figure out who was responsible for one of the greatest people to fall into your life. Was it Chenle, for being best friends with Jisung all these years? Was it Yuna for finally working up the courage to confess her love to Chenle? Or was it you, for not being afraid to get to know him?

Every morning your senior year, Chenle honked his obnoxious car horn and waited for you and Yuna to come out. Jisung was waiting outside the car, always holding open the backdoor for you like he was your driver or something. 

Routinely, the two of you laughed over internet memes or showed each other a priceless YouTube video you watched the night before. When the two of you were too excited to wait, random midnight texts would spam each other’s phones, making the other smile too widely for a simple friendship.

He was a lot more eccentric than you thought he would be, and you loved that about him. Rambling about the anime he was watching, the latest song he learned how to play on his guitar made you smile whenever he spoke, or the endless thoughts in his mind that make him want to bust out his sketchbook and express “the wild concoctions of his mind”- his words, not yours. Anything he said, really, was like hearing your favorite song. 

You remembered telling him an embarrassing secret, that you always wanted to re-enact the scene from You Belong With Me since you two were neighbors. In the moment he hadn’t said anything, but that night, he had texted you to go to your favorite window seat, and when you did he was holding up a paper to his window. In big block leaders, he had written HI Y/N. I MISS YOU. Next to it, was a pretty good drawing of a cartoon version of himself waving at you. 

You didn’t know he could draw well.

It wasn’t long before you realized he wasn’t just a neighbor, or a friend. He wasn’t the love interest that you rolled your eyes at in your romance novels, or even Augustus Waters. He was the boy who was unafraid to be himself with you, and it made you feel like you could take on the world.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Here you were now, looking back on all those fond memories of him and smiling to yourself. The two of you had come a long way, and it never occurred to you that Jisung would become a significant part of your life. One you never want to depart from.

It was a couple of weeks before graduation. After many hours of working up the courage, you found yourself quietly knocking on Jisung’s front door. His mom answered, never failing at shooting you knowing looks and sneaky smiles. 

Once Jisung appeared, he sat with you on his front porch. He never lost that quietness about him all these years, but what you gained is an attachment to it. You found yourself edging closer, constantly aching to be near. Your eyes trailed to your window, the one that lent your your first ever glimpses at the boy beside you. Oh, how far you’d come. 

His face was more mature and slimmer now, hair shorter and styled more. His clothes were more intentional, preppy one day and street the next. That was the great thing about him- he wasn’t someone you could pinpoint. Maybe that’s why with one flicker of a gaze, he could knock the breath from your lungs. 

You had come over to tell him how you feel. 

Why were you choking instead?

He was fiddling with the bracelet Chenle had bought him for one of his childhood birthdays. Bright colors, worn around the edges. You’d never seen him without it, now that you look back on it. You focused on that as you tried to calm your nerves. Think of something, anything. Maybe how the bracelet is quite similar to its owner. Jisung, a mix of all these colors that somehow become beautiful together. 

“Everything okay?” He asked casually, eyes trained ahead. 

“Yup.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you usually don’t do this. The last time you came to my house, you were just dropping off the textbook I left over at yours. You never come to visit.” Ouch. You hadn’t realized. You were too worried about looking like a stalker. When had you become the one peeping from the window instead of him?

“I just, uh, I missed you.” You wanted to cringe, not missing the shock that ran through Jisung’s face. He coughed audibly before adjusting in his seat, using a random stick to pick the rocks out of the bottom of his shoes and tossing them one by one.

“That’s cool,” He said, and now he was hiding his face. Great. In that next moment, he turned your world onto its side. “I heard Jaemin asked you out today.”

Like a video buffering, every prepared sentence you had went out the window. Blinking, you shook your head before stuttering, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, he did.” Tell him you’re not interested in Jaemin. Tell him.

“You two make a lovely couple.” Was that bitterness? Sarcasm? Was that… sincere? What was that supposed to mean?

“I think you’re misunderstanding,” You laughed forcibly, and you realized quickly it was a mistake as he regarded you with zero amusement. 

“He’s been wanting to date you since that day I made Chaeryeong’s nose bleed.”

Your face scrunched up, scoffing as you said, “I don’t even remember him being there.”

“That’s new. Most people don’t forget Jaemin’s presence.”

A moment, one breath of nerves, before you jumped. “I remember you that day.”

As you bravely looked him in the eye, you saw it in his face. You saw the understanding dawn on him, like a fishing line tugging. Jisung was never one for words. You read the message clear on his face, felt him comfortably relax as his body edged closer to you. 

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

On your eighteenth birthday, right in the middle of summer, Yuna was whispering your name in the darkness of your bedroom. 

“Y/N! Wake up!”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Then why did you ignore me?”

“You tell me.” You complained when she smacked your leg before silently following her out into the dark hallway. “What’s up?”

“I know we already sang you happy birthday an hour ago, but there’s one last surprise I forgot to tell you about.”

“You’re lucky I was awake.”

She led you into the living room, where the moon offered seldom light from the windows facing Jisung’s house. Except, your eyes found a piece of paper resting on the window seat. 

Looking at your sister, you quietly walked over to the seat and picked it up. Flipping it over, your heart fooled you into thinking it was the middle of the day, the sun kissing your skin and your favorite book in your lap. It was a feeling of complete and utter bliss. 

It was a sketch drawing split into four pictures. The first picture is of a younger you, face focused and legs crossed, sun bathing you in light. Your hair was messy, your face amused, and you were sporting your favorite orange spaghetti strap you used to wear way too much when you were little. 

The second picture is you a little older now, face frustrated and fingers gripping your DS tightly. You didn’t remember ever playing the DS on the window seat. 

The third photo was one that looked most like you, curled up uncomfortably in the window seat as you took a nap. The last time you did that was at the beginning of high school, and you vowed to never do it again after waking with your entire body stiff. You still wore that same green hoodie.

The last photo is of you sitting on the middle school bleachers, that very summer dress you loved for years drawn perfectly. There are other people, a crowd that’s parted with you in the center of the drawing. Everyone else is drawn as shaded shadows, a glow and beauty to you that you never even noticed. You were smiling directly ahead, and you wonder if he pictured himself as the object of your affections. 

With a big smile, you perched yourself on the window seat, your hand spread on the window as you looked toward his bedroom window. You knew before you even saw him that Jisung would be waiting. His head in his hand, eyes hooded and drowsy. They widened as he spotted you.

Holding the gift to your heart, you blew him a kiss and hoped your expression conveyed how much you loved this present. His small smile was one of understanding. 

His silence always told you everything you needed to know.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

About a month later, it was the night before Jisung’s flight- the night before he moved and left for university. You were in bed, long after saying your goodbyes and wallowing in sadness. Heart heavy, you couldn’t sleep, not now, not when Jisung was so close yet so far. You weren’t going to cry, not because you didn’t want to but because it was ridiculous to act like he was gone already. 

All this time and you never told him how you felt. 

Shutting your thoughts off, you threw your blanket aside and left your room, pulling on your shoes and quietly leaving out the front door, heading toward the outside of your favorite side of the house. Surprisingly, his window was completely open, so you tried to whisper-shout his name to get his attention. Nothing happened. 

You huffed, looking around before spotting an old bouncy ball you and your sisters used to throw at each other when you were young. Taking a moment, you aimed the ball before chucking it at the window. It missed, bouncing off the windowsill and miraculously down on your side of the fence between your houses. Picking it up again, you aimed once more before chucking it as hard as you could. 

At that same moment, Jisung popped out from his window with a confused look. You covered your mouth and cursed loudly as the ball smacked him right in the face, his glasses flying off as his body fell back out of view.

“Jisung! Oh my gosh, Jisung!” You hissed, worried out of your mind. After a few beats, a highly unamused Jisung peeked out of the window. “I’m so sorry!”

Jisung rubbed at his face before pushing his glasses up his nose and nodding. “I guess I deserved that. ‘Sall good. What’s up?”

“I want to talk to you!”

“I’m kinda panicking right now. Not even close to finished packing and my flight is in a couple hours.”

“I can help!” You called, looking around before saying, “Please! Before I get caught out here!”

He stared at you for a moment, face too serious for your taste, before he nodded and called quietly, “Back door.”

It was weird, sneaking through Jisung’s dark house. Even weirder, how aggressive your heart was beating in your chest as he clasped your hand tightly to lead you up the stairs. In the safety of his room, you felt vulnerable. 

You had never been on the other side at night. This was the other perspective, the room he used to peek at you from, the one that housed the boy whose silence you’d grown to love. It was invasive. 

“Yeah, uh, it’s a mess right now.” You turned to him quietly, sweat building at your lower back. All you could was nod as you tried to find the courage. 

This boy had been this close to you since you were eight years old. Feet away. Even though you knew his silence, you were still trying to figure out how to break it. You got too comfortable and too attached to it. Too attached to him. 

Seeing how bare his room looked filled you with an unbearable sadness. What was life going to be like without him living next door? Not to mention hundreds of miles were going to be between you. Luck was on your side that he was going to a university only three hours away. Three hours too many, it seemed, since Jisung was struggling to meet your eyes. 

“Your room’s great.”

“Thanks.”

You sat in his desk chair as his bluetooth speaker played some band called MAD. Back when you had some classes together, he liked to make you laugh from across the room as he used to pretend to be the drummer of the band. You watched him as he quietly packed the large suitcase on the floor. His T-shirt sleeves were rolled up around his biceps, sporting his favorite sweats.

This was the Jisung she always knew and yet he wasn’t. 

He had somehow taken up all the space in her heart. 

The only time she had the heart to confess was the night before he moved away. 

A moment. Feeling nauseated, you braced yourself with a deep breath and opened your mouth to speak. Just as the words flew from your lips like skydivers racing to the ground, Jisung spoke as well. 

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“I can get you a drink if you’re thirsty.”

You both froze, his body twisting to look at you as you took up extra curiosity in the pencil box on his desk. 

“You what?” He gasped.

“I’m good. I drank some water before bed.” Did you just answer him? Squinting at the pencil box, you pushed it back and forth across the wood.

“Y/N.” You couldn’t look at him, eyes swimming suddenly in a wave of emotions. You heard his feet approach you before he was crouching down and slowly spinning the chair to face him. Like a child, you squeezed your eyes shut. 

Did he really ask you if you wanted something to drink? Just as you confessed your love for him?

“Y/N?” Your eyes were open but you couldn’t look at him. His head mimicked yours, tricking you into looking at him. You still couldn’t look him in the eye, opting for his chin. “Will you please look at me?”

Meeting his gaze, silence fell over you. One that you knew very well. The same silence that you originally thought separated you, but had brought you together over time. The silence he met you with when he first moved in, the silence behind two windows. It was in the silence that you realized just how important he was to you. 

With the easiest smile that Jisung solely owned, he told you how he felt.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. Even before the times I watched you from the window like a creep. The day we moved in and your mom, your sisters and you came to welcome us, actually, was probably love. Even though I was eight, it was love for what I knew it to be. Yuna was little, she was shy and hiding behind your mom. Chaeryeong was giving me a no-nonsense look, as if she thought I was going to be trouble. But you…”

He swallowed, suddenly nervous. Your hand moved of its own accord, shyly resting on his shoulder. Taking a breath of bravery, he continued.

“You were my fairy,” He laughed to himself, “Back then, my mom used to read me a lot of fantasy books. All of my favorites had to do with fairies. Because they were both magical and beautiful, and that’s what I thought fantasy should be. And when I saw you? I thought fairies actually existed at that moment.”

“I would say you’re my Peter Pan, but him and Tinkerbell don’t end up together.”

He smiled, his hands taking yours in his own before he looked up into your eyes once more. “You’re better than Tinkerbell. Even better than Fawn.”

“You know the other fairy names?”

“What can I say? I loved Pixie Hollow.”

“I was more of a Club Penguin girl.”

“Who wasn’t?” 

And because you couldn’t wait any longer, you pushed back the seat and crouched down in front of him as well, just so you were nearly eye level. He was quiet, his silence showing his understanding of what this all meant. 

“Jisung?” You whispered, arms sliding around his neck. 

“Mhm?”

“Is it alright if I kiss you?”

“You’re more than welcome.”

This time, when the silence fell around them, it was to declare your love. His lips were cold, soft, but shy. You took the lead and he followed, his hands unsure but gaining confidence as he hugged you to him. 

When you pulled away, every single book you loved was reflected in his gaze. 

That was the thing about guys like Jisung. They reminded you of the worlds you visited but wiped the slate clean at the same time, proving you had your own story to tell. 

Was there ever going to be another novel that would make you feel like you did in this moment?

“I think I’ll have something to drink now.”

He stood, a smile pulling at his lips. As he approached the door, he looked back at you and mirrored you from moments before. “I’m in love with you too.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Jisung was fifteen when he realized how the circle of people you trust has to be few and far between. What was sad was he realized this because of his good friends. 

“That wasn’t a foul, asshole, that was a clean steal,” Jeno stood with the basketball tucked under one arm, the other pointing accusingly as Chenle argued with him. Chenle, who was irritable from the sun and from relationship problems with Yuna, wasn’t backing down. 

“It was dirty and you know it,” Jeno barked.

Jaemin clapped once and held out his hands to Jeno, exclaiming, “Okay guys, that’s enough. This is fun, remember? Shouldn’t be whining and complaining about one shot. He gets the point, Jeno, cool?”

Jeno rolled his eyes before checking the ball to Chenle, grumbling, “Whatever.”

As Jaemin went on defense for Jisung, he surprised everyone by his random questions to lighten the mood. Soon, they were back to joking and messing around with one another. Jeno even gave props for Chenle at one point when he stole the ball. 

“Did you hear Jeno and Ryujin broke up? Again?” Jaemin snickered, watching Jisung closely as he waited for a chance to juke him. Bouncing the ball behind his back, then between his legs, Jisung watched him having played him plenty of times before. If anyone knew his tricks, it was Jisung. 

“Sorry to hear that, man,” Chenle said.

Jeno waved his hand. “It’s whatever. Not surprised she’s done with my ass. I forgot it was her birthday. Again.”

Jisung shook his head, and Chenle said, “Dang, then it really is your fault.”

“Never said it wasn’t,” Jeno snapped, breaking out of Chenle’s defense and finding an opening for the pass. Jeno proceeded to pull off an effortless hook shot. 

“Besides, he has his eyes set on someone new already,” Jaemin teased, always something dark hidden in the brightness of his irises.

Jeno glared at him. “Oh yeah? And you’re so innocent right? Why are you putting me on blast?”

“I know I’m not an angel. You just pretend you are and I think it’s hilarious” Jaemin grinned proudly, checking the ball with Jisung before quickly taking a three point shot, sinking it perfectly. “What about you, Jisung? Any apple of your eye?”

“Oh, he’s more sprung than I am with Yuna,” Chenle cackled, silenced by themurderous look from Jisung. Jisung was never one to be vocal about his personal feelings.

Why? Because he hated that look of curiosity forming on Jaemin’s face. 

“Oh? And who has my little friend’s heart?”

“None of your business,” Jisung grumbled, causing Jaemin’s head to fall back as he laughed. Jisung took the opportunity to steal the ball, sprinting for his side of the court. Jeno was too fast, quick on defense. 

“Come on, Ji. I promise I won’t judge,” Jaemin poked. He knew Jaemin all too well, his friend being well known for stealing his friends’ girls from right under their noses. It was all a game to him. 

He refused to give in. 

After five minutes of being murdered on the court, Jisung was hot and seething. His head wasn’t on straight, his thoughts unclear. It didn’t help that you were in clear view from this position, lounging beneath a tree and reading to your heart’s desire.

It was fate that the girl of his dreams was here the day he was pestered to let his friends know of your existence. 

As he prepared for the three pointer, getting a look at Jaemin’s stupid smug face, he was struck with a moment of peace. Because if he didn't have a chance with you, Jaemin sure didn’t. And that right there filled him with a joy he couldn’t understand.

“You see Y/N over there?” He motioned with his head, all the boys glancing at you before finding him again. Jaemin narrowed his eyes at the boy. 

Jisung dribbled the ball, his heart swelling with pride as he confessed, “That’s the girl I’m going to marry someday.” As he watched the ball soar, he realized that was the first time he had ever expressed just how deep his love for you goes. Maybe you didn’t see him, maybe you never would, but for him you were all that he needed. 

His moment of sentiment ended as the ball smashed into the headboard, flying in the direction of the topic of conversation, his heart plummeting in fear. 

His thoughts of marriage, of you, of his fears, they all faded as he ran toward you. Seeing the blood on your sister’s face, he realized you may never fall for him the way he had for you.

“What the f-”

“I-I’m so sorry. It banked off the headboard and went flying!”

[fork-tectors]

trusted ║ arlo

; among us au trusted ; crewmate! arlo x crewmate! reader

[ edited ] [ word count ║ 1271 words ] [ part one ║ part two ]

John/Black was an imposter. One (1) impostor remains.   

The recently ejected person's best friend blandly stared at the screen. Once she had processed the words, her face contorted into an expression of anger and betrayal.    

Her shaking hand curled into a tight fist. She spent most of her time on the ship with the dark-haired male. They had been here for almost four days, and they had bonded; she felt deceived. Was he only using her as an alibi?   

Sure he hasn't killed her, but, he would've done it afterwards since it would only be a matter of time. There are no friendships in this game.   

She wanted to use her ability to turn back time and ask him. But, she shook her head with a weak laugh. "It isn't worth it," she whispered to herself.   

After Elaine did her best to console the upset short-haired girl, we all went our way. The mentioned two leaving with the company of each other. I felt horrible for her. It isn't every day that your new best friend turns out to be a murderer.   

I made my way to go to Admin with the guy in the yellow spacesuit, which I afterwards learned his name was Arlo, walking side-by-side. He wasn't very talkative was honestly quite distant and cold to everyone, but, I didn't want to wander alone, and that we both had a few tasks in Admin left for the day. We thought it would be convenient that we head there together. I will bet my life that he was safe; I watched him do the scanning task, and he hasn't done anything to be called "sus".   

I'm sure he was still sceptical of me since I had no assigned tasks to prove my innocence. Not that I need it to show that I am just a mere defenceless crewmate.   

We arrived at Admin quickly; it was near the cafeteria anyway. I jumped to do my work, and so did he.   

I kneeled onto the ground; the blonde-haired guy was still seen in my peripheral view. I pulled out my ID card. Taking some info from talking to the other crewmates, they complained about how hard the card swipe was. I didn't think it would be that difficult. I mean, how hard can it be?   

I unscrewed my helmet to make myself adjust to my comfort level, placing the headwear near me on the table. I started my job, readying the item needed.   

Swipe!  Too fast.   

Swipe! Too fast.    

Swipe! Bad read.    

Swipe! Too slow.     

Taking a quick break after two failed ones, I sighed and continued with a whine.   

Five attempts and the constant reminder of doing something wrong later, I was tired and annoyed with it. I slammed my fists on the hard metal surface which startled the boy who was performing his final task of the day.  

"What's wrong?" He asked as looked over at my work station to see me sitting on the ground, slumped over.  

"... I hate card swipe," I murmured.  

I heard the subtle sound of zapping before hearing metal come into loud contact with metal.  

"Get up."  

I felt the sudden grip on my right shoulder, "Hey, stand up."  

I looked up at him to see his sparkling blue eyes, taking notice that he had taken off his helmet too. His eyes are so pretty, I awwed. It was kinda stuffy in the suit, so I guess it was expected.  

I followed his command and grabbed my wrist with my fingers wrapped around the card, "here." He guided my hand to help me with my work.   

He coiled his hand around mine as I positioned the laminated piece of paper to do my thing. With one steady motion, the mission that took more than ten tries was completed.  

"There. It wasn't that hard, right?" I gave him a sarcastic look, though he just ignored it.

"That was your last task?" I hummed in agreement.   

We were caught off guard when the loud alarm rang through our ears, someone must've pushed the emergency meeting button. Without warning, I clutched his arm and set off to retreat back to the cafe, not wanting to be late. Arlo just quietly obeyed and sprinted with me.  

I notice a person dressed in an orange spacesuit standing near the table, the red button left uncovered. He must be the one we called a meeting, I thought.  

Soon the crewmates slowly arrived with their buddies and some alone. My eyes circled the room to see if everyone was present. Pink. Cyan. Red. Dark Blue. Green... Wait a sec, where's green?   

Speaking of the devil, she appears to be the last to arrive. No, I'm not gonna call her suspicious just cause she the last to enter the room. That's a dick move.  

"Who called the meeting?" Dark Blue, or Holden, spoke up.  

Orange, or Isen, help up their covered hand, "I did."  

"So, why?"   

The orange-haired boy sighs, "It's Green."  

Hearing their colour be brought up, Cecile glares at him in surprise. She seemed taken it back by his abrupt accusation, "excuse me...!?"  

"Tell me, what's your alibi then?" Orange was acting more persuasive than usual.  

The pink-eyed female growled at him, narrowing her eyes. A vibrant glint of pink visible from her irises, as if to indicate that she was powering up her ability. "I was at Med bay, doing my task like a responsible cremate should, unlike someone who's going around accusing people. What's your proof?" She looked somewhat agitated.  

Isen imitated the girl's action, his glare was prominent, and an orange hue was projecting from his eyes. Both leant near, looking like they had the intent to harm the other. If they didn't have the madness in their eye, I would've thought they were gonna kiss.  

Before the situation could escalate itself, a girl who was dressed in pink intruded and pushed them off of each other. "Getting angry and fighting won't resolve any of this!" She yelled.  

At first, I thought Isen was just nervous. I kept noticing how fidgety he was every time I encountered him, that was just a mere observation. That didn't really come across as unusual since everyone else was acting the same. Honestly, I was beginning to become sceptical of him despite that I've no proof of him doing anything strange.  

There's another impostor still on board? I thought. Could it be Orange...?   

As if he was speaking my mind, Arlo stabs an allegation at Isen. "Isen, why are you so eager to vote someone without any evidence? That's extremely shady. If I were to be the judge, I'd think you're an imposter or either siding with them."   

"Hey, man! He's not an imposter, he's been with Remi and I a lot of these days!" The redhead jumps to protect his friend.  

"So did John," Sera said.  

It didn't feel right to give more statements about what's happening since people were already arguing. Maybe being stuck in this ship with anyone being an alleged murderer was taking a toll on everyone's mentality. I yawned, I feel tired.  

"None of what you people are saying mean anything! None of us knows each other personally. Don't be fucking stupid! We're all just strangers! We can buddy up with someone, but we can't be sure that they're fully safe to be with!" She inhales, pausing, "Look at John, you think someone could've known that he was gonna be the imposter?!" Cecile stayed silent once she finished with her rant. We did similarly.  

"Let's just vote to skip for now."   

And that's what we did.  

This will only go two ways. Either with Arlo or with Isen. Btw, they’re all strangers here, if you haven’t caught on. They don’t know each other outside of this. This might get a part two if I become motivated enough to finish it:>

ngl the card swipe task ain’t that hard though

[thewritewolf]

In Due Time Chapter 1: Witch AU

Hello and welcome to my entry for Marichat May 2020 - In Due Time! Figuring out an idea for this fic was an exhausting journey and I must've gone through nine or ten different ideas before inspiration struck and I ended up with this one. I've very excited to tell this story, and I hope you will like reading it just as much as I did writing it.

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Summary: For eight years, Chat Noir and Red Beetle have been fighting to bring Hawkmoth to justice. But after so many years with no progress to show for their efforts, there are rumors that the Red Beetle has given up crime fighting.

Alone and without even a partner to rely on and all the while facing increasingly more dangerous akumas, Chat Noir has to find someone worthy of taking up the ladybug miraculous.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 

Read on Ao3

Marinette stood in the bus with a handful of strangers, most of whom were sending her curious glances. That didn’t surprise her too much and she couldn’t blame them, even if it was making her a little self conscious. Paris might be a large, cosmopolitan city, but even so, someone dressed like a witch at sundown was sure to attract attention.

As she clenched her hands against her heavy skirt, Marinette was glad she’d at least designed her outfit to be practical. Having to endure all this scrutiny while freezing in the late October weather might have caused her to just head right back home before even reaching the party. And having to keep track of a purse while holding onto her prop broomstick would’ve been just awful. Another benefit to being a designer - she could add pockets to whatever she wanted.

It came as a huge relief when she got off the bus and started seeing more people in costume. At least she wasn’t sticking out in the crowd any more. Although now she was wondering just how many people were going to be showing up to Alya’s party. For all that talk about how Marinette went overboard with things, Alya could certainly keep up with the craziest that Marinete could pull and then some.

Maybe it was because of all the traffic the Cat Chat had been seeing. It had never really died down since those early years in lycee - the opposite, actually. The longer Hawkmoth’s war on Paris dragged on, the more that Chat Noir and Red Beetle were put into the spotlight and lauded. Or critiqued, Marinette admitted with a frown. That last article she had read had been scathing, but Alya had been quick to rip it to shreds on the Cat Chat.

As she stepped into the building after flashing her VIP ticket to the doorman, there was no doubt in her mind that the now infamous article was why there were so many people wearing costumes of Paris’s heroes today. Well - wearing costumes of Chat Noir, that is.

“Girl!”

Marinette looked around, clutching her broomstick tightly. She smiled when she saw Alya, wearing a female version of the Chat Noir costume, bulldoze her way through the crowded floor.

“Alya!” The two women kissed cheeks and hugged. “It’s been a few days, how have you been?”

“Crazy and frantic,” Alya said with a laugh. “But you know I wouldn’t have it any other way, girl.” She took a step back and walked around Marinette. “And look at you! You really went all out with this costume, huh?”

“What was I gonna do?” Marinette said with a smirk. “Not splurge for my bestie’s Halloween party?”

“I appreciate it, M. It helps the atmosphere.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Especially with how tacky some of these costumes are. But hey!” Her voice returned to her usual volume again. “I can’t expect everyone to have a snazzy outfit for the first annual Cat Chat Halloween party.”

“You’re obsessed.” Marinette giggled.

“Why shouldn’t we get to have some Halloween fun too? Trust me, this is the start of something great.” Alya glanced behind her and cursed. “Or at least it would if people would stop trashing things. Sorry for bailing, but foods over there,” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder as she started edging away from Marinette. “Have fun! Socialize!”

And just like that Marinette was alone again.

Now, Marinette wasn’t a shy wallflower by any stretch of the imagination. But this was a perfect storm of eroded confidence that she had emerged into. The lingering stares on the bus. The press of people all around her. The fact that she knew literally no one here except for Alya. Which was surprising, at least until she remembered that Nino was busy today with a gig on the other side of town. He may not understand his girlfriend’s obsession, but at least he was supportive.

Regardless, it all piled up on her until she found herself floating at the edges of the party, using the big buffet table and the wall at her back as a buffer against the giant throng of people.

“Pretty big turn out, isn’t it?”

Marinette just about jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice just behind her, causing her pointy black hat to fall over her eyes. As she fumbled her broomstick and drink to try and fix it, she felt it be lifted and placed carefully back on top of her head.

“Sorry about that, little witch,” came the voice again and now she could see vibrant green eyes like shining emeralds looking down at her. Down because the person they belonged to was so tall, even lounging against the wall like he was. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No sweat,” she replied mechanically, her designer eyes already at work sweeping over his outfit. It turned out to be the sixth Chat Noir costume of the night, but she could hardly complain. It was leaps and bounds better than the usual cheap stuff that she’d been seeing all night.

“See something you like?” There was a teasing lilt in his voice. Her eyes rose back to his and she saw the flirty smirk he was wearing.

“Sorry, I was just admiring your costume. It is definitely the most accurate one I’ve seen all night.”

“Are you something of a Chat Noir expert?” He asked, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Well, I’m a designer so I have an eye for those sorts of things. Everyone remembers the ears and tail, and most people remember the bell,” she flicked his, delighted that it had a pleasant metallic ring. “Getting the size of the bell, the leather-like quality of the ears and tail - those are common mistakes.”

“Well, if I’m going to be Chat Noir, I may as well go the full distance, right?” Again there was a playful look in his expression, like there was a joke he wasn’t sharing.

“Yeah, but most people don’t even realize that the super suits are made up of tiny hexagons,” she said, pointing at the miniscule figures making up his costume. “How do they even do that? Heck, how did you?”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “You must be a really big fan then, huh? Like you said, most people don’t know that trivia.”

“It helps that my best friend runs the Cat Chat,” she said with a smirk, expecting him to be impressed. Instead, he snorted.

“Yeah that makes sense. If you’re Alya’s closest friend, you probably get sent all the articles before they’re published.” He patted her shoulder. “My condolences. Even I can’t keep up with everything she puts out.”

“Which reminds me-”

“Witch reminds you?” He said, looking very pleased with his pun.

Marinette chuckled, shaking her head. “Sure. Anyway, you haven’t given me your name?”

His smile widened. “You can just call me Chat Noir.”

“You might have to be more specific there,” she said with a glance to a couple of Chat Noirs nearby.

“Ah, trying to rely on my good manners to figure out my true identity. Very clever, but no, you’ll have to make due with just Chat Noir.”

“You really are playing the part, aren’t you?” Marinette rolled her eyes. “That’s fine, I suppose. But seriously, what’s your costume made out of?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well, I’ve always been curious about the real deal since I’m an up and coming designer-”

“In my experience,” Chat Noir interrupted with a grin. “‘Up and coming’ usually means ‘down and out at the moment.’”

She glares at him for a moment before turning away. Intending to get a refill of punch and some distance away from ‘Chat Noir’, she started walking away. He snagged her elbow - not tightly, but just enough to make her pause.

“Wait! Sorry, that was rude of me. This is the longest I’ve gone talking to a pretty lady for a while, please excuse me.” When she turned back around, he breathed a sigh of relief. “So, you’re a designer?”

“Yes,” she said, still feeling a little miffed but also feeling a boost to her ego from the pretty lady comment. “I actually made my costume for this party.”

“Really?” Chat said, surprised. “I thought it looked a cut above what everyone else was wearing. Do you mind if I take a look?” He smirked, but it lacked some of the cockiness from before. There was a slight shyness that was endearing. “I don’t want to just… oogle you without permission.”

She giggled. “Sure! I’d love for someone to actually appreciate the work that went into this.”

Setting down her drink, she held her broom and spun around slow enough that he could get a good look. When she was facing him again, he was wearing an impressed look.

“Its even better than I thought it was. Naturally, I realized it was excellent quality, but not many designers today would remember to balance comfort and practicality in addition to appearance. Plus,” he added as he ran a claw along a seam, “these stitches are expertly done. I bet you’ve been practicing sewing for a long time.”

“Since before lycee! I was making clothes and accessories even back then. In fact…”

Their conversation wore on for the next couple hours and it turned out ‘Chat Noir’ had more than just a cute face and a flirty tongue. He had a surprisingly good knowledge of fashion and the industry, even gave her a few tips for how to break into it.

As much as she tried to steer the conversation toward him and what he did, he always managed to expertly get her back into talking about her. It was almost as if he had plenty of practice doing it, but she was just glad to have someone new to talk to. All her work recently had left her without many friends to casually talk to. Which was no doubt another reason Alya had gone out of her way to give her a VIP invite.

Eventually, though, ‘Chat Noir’ left. It was only a few moments later that she realized she had forgotten to ask his name again, or at least ask for his number (he was a cutie after all). But by the time she turned around to look for him, he’d vanished without a trace.

Not that she had long to dwell on it. Just as she was frowning and searching the crowd, Alya stormed over to her. Her eyes were wide and she had that manic energy around her that Marinette had rightly learned to dread over the years.

“Girl! Do you know who you were just talking to?!”

“Some guy that wouldn’t give me his name and insisted I called him Chat Noir,” she said with a sigh. “Which sucks, but-”

“That’s because that was Chat Noir!”

“I get why you think that - it was a super impressive costume - but-”

“No, girl. Listen to me.” She put her hands on Marinette’s shoulders and stared her in the eye. “I’ve spent eight years running a blog with a cat pun in the name because of that furry. Eight years of studying Chat Noir and Red Beetle. I’ve interviewed him! If anyone can point out the real Chat Noir out of a bunch of lookalikes, its me.”

Alya shook Marinette in her excitement. “You just spent the evening flirting with Chat Noir, you amazing minx!”

Marinette smiled as Alya babbled excitedly, but in the comfort of her own mind she frowned. That wasn’t at all what she expected the bombastic, energetic hero she always saw on television to be like. With the party dying down, she headed back to Alya’s place to spend the night, still trying to merge the image of the larger-than-life hero of Paris and the shy boy asking her if she’d let him look at her costume.

There seemed to be more to Chat Noir than she had ever given him credit for.

[cheekymochiiii]

Surprise

part 4. [cont. from Where is Lucy ->]

✰ Mini Series

✰ NaLu Short

Natsu and Happy stand wait outside the guildhall door’s of Blue Pegasus debating the best way to approach Anna Heartfilia. The pair knows Gajeel may already have a head start but the boys know Anna is their best resource to find Lucy.

“Are you suuuure you wanna do this?” Happy asks uneasy about seeing Ichiya and the Three Idiots. Remembering the last time they were here the boys were forced to dress in penguin suits and be escorts to random people.

A job the boys were not wanting a repeat of.

“Anna is our best chance to find Lucy,” Natsu states fiercely.

“Aye sir!” Happy nods matching Natsu’s bravado.

Natsu knocks and the guild’s doors swing open.

“Welcome to Blue Pegasus, how can we—oh Natsu and Happy. What are you guys doing here?” Hibiki asks cocking his head to the side. Before the pair can answer Hibiki’s eyes light up, “I know! You’re here for the entertainment!”

“Huh?” The duo asks in confusion.

“Places everyone we have newcomers!” Hibiki announces ignoring them and pulls the boys inside before shutting the door behind them, the lights clicking off and a spotlight shining on Jenny who is standing on a center stage.

There are other customers sitting in the booths that allow them a view of Jenny. All the men drool and stare with wide eyes. Natsu and Happy begin trying to sneak away but Hibiki forced them to stay in their spot.

“Hey man we’re just looking for Anna,” Natsu complains.

“We’ll tell you where she is after you watch our number,” Hibiki says, “Don’t move!” He tells the best friends as he runs to join the other two, Eve and Ren, who are background dancers to Jenny.

Jenny begins singing a soulful song and with each line she begins stripping her clothes. Natsu’s eye twitches, “Let’s get out of here Happy,” Natsu states turning to leave when Ichiya blocks them from the doors to freedom.

“Meeeennnn,” he croons while striking his signature pose, “What brings Sir Natsu and Sir Happy to our humble guild hall?”

“We’re looking for Anna,” Happy states using his exceed wings to hover.

“Lady Anna is at the school as we speak. She is in the middle of teaching a class on the outskirts of town,” Ichiya informs the two while stepping back and forth in that small dance he does.

“Great we’ll find it ourselves,” Natsu states pushing past Ichiya to escape the torturous performance.

“You don’t want to watch the rest of Jenny’s performance?” Ichiya questions.

“No thanks,” Natsu quickly denies causing Jenny to send a glare at his back as the duo quickly ventures off.

“How will we know which direction to go?” Happy asks as he soars next to Natsu.

“My nose, duh!” Natsu grins as he easily picks up Anna’s scent and begins tracking her, “We’ll find her in no time.”

The duo manages to reach the teacher in the middle of her outdoor activities with her youngest class. She is chasing a few of the children in a game of tag, some of them even using magic to get away from the others.

“Yo! Anna!” Natsu greets as Happy is instantly attacked by the children’s grubby hands and all try taking turns to ride and pet the exceed.

“Natsu and Happy what a pleasant surprise, what can I do for you two?” Anna asks kindly as she picks up one of the students off of Happy but the others are relentless in their chase to catch him.

It still surprises Natsu how much she and Lucy look and smell alike. It makes him smile at how different they are in personality. While Anna is refined and graceful, Lucy is brash and rowdy much like the guild she joined, which he likes far better than how she was the first time he met her. He remembers she would be haughty and scared of nearly everything but she’s changed. She isn’t scared anymore and isn’t the princess she was supposed to be. He wonders what she would be like if she had stayed at her estate. What he didn’t like to think about was if he had never met her at all.

“We’re looking for Lucy,” Natsu states pulling himself out of his thoughts, “She’s been gone a few days now and we aren’t sure where she is.”

Anna’s face changes then as she recalls where her relative is. “Did she say how long she would be gone?”

“She only left us a note about being gone for a week,” Natsu shares.

“A week?” Anna echoes unsure if that time would be too long for poor Lucy.

“Do you know where she is?” Natsu questions wondering what is with all the secrecy.

“Yes she, um...” Anna trails off trying to decide if it would be appropriate for her to tell him where she is. After all, Lucy had turned down her offer to accompany her to Acalypha. Anna looks to Natsu and can see the desperate look behind his eyes.

“I need to know where she is so I can beat Gajeel to her!” Natsu says competitively as he shakes a fist to the sky as if Gajeel could see him.

So that’s why he looks so determined, Anna thinks with a funny smile.

“Natsu help!” Happy cries as the children have now somehow managed to tie him up and have gone to tossing his precious fishies back and forth as a game with each other.

Natsu starts laughing, “They sure got the jump on you didn’t they buddy.”

“Hey why are you talking to Miss Anna?” One of the children with wild blonde hair asks looking up at Natsu with scrutiny.

“I’ve got to find a friend kiddo,” Natsu answers raising one eyebrow as he looks down at the boy.

“I’m not a kid!” The boy shouts looking to Anna with a blush, “I’m a mature man just like the wizards at Blue Pegasus. More mature than you are clearly.”

“You think those weirdos are mature?” Natsu mutters, “Wait a second!”

“If it’s Miss Anna you want, then I’ll fight you for her!” The boy challenges Natsu.

“Oh yeah? Bring it on!” Natsu grins.

Anna only laughs, “Now boys there will be no fights while I’m the teacher here. Reo it’s time to go inside anyway. Why don’t you go ahead and pick out a book for me to read to the rest of the class?”

The blonde haired boy nods fiercely, “Right away Miss Anna!” He agrees and leaves to the classroom.

“Alright children that’s enough rough housing for today let’s get back inside for our story time!” Anna orders the class as she opens the door for them. They all cheer with excitement to learn more from Anna and rush inside the school house.

“That snot-nosed kid,” Natsu grumbles.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much time but I can tell you where Lucy is. She will need her friends most today,” Anna says with a sorrowful look.

• • •

The morning for Lucy was long. She was tossing and turning all night after she had finished her writing. She wasn’t sure why she was so anxious. All she knew was that the moment she saw her parents it would melt away. Luckily, the sun was out and brighter than ever. Despite the cold snow and air the sun was keeping Lucy’s face warm from its rays.

She spent time in the market getting items for her picnic, but when she tried to find two flower bouquets for her parents the shops were out of stock. All that were left were empty vases and wilted stems.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you flowers,” she tells her parents now standing before their gravestones with a sad smile, “I’m also sorry I couldn’t face either of your for so long,” Lucy admits sniffling.

“Hey Lucy.”

The celestial wizard turns recognizing the voice and is in awe of the bouquets of flowers in Loke’s arms.

“Loke? What are you doing here?” She asks.

“These flowers are from all of us,” he explains holding them out to her, “Plue told us you were in need of flowers before you closed his gate and we all chipped in with some flowers from the celestial spirit world.”

Lucy gazes at them in awe as she gently takes them from Loke. In the sun the chrysanthemums twinkle and almost glow beautiful shades of purple and blue that remind her of the skies in the celestial spirit world. The stems are long and have leaves that are a vibrant green against the snow.

Lucy feels tears building in the corner of her eyes, “Thank you so much,” she tells Loke as she meets his eyes, “They’re beautiful. You all did an amazing job putting them together.”

“Plue said you’ve been upset and we all wanted to try and ease the pain,” Loke admits and gives her a glistening smile, “You’re far too beautiful to have permanent frown lines and puffy eyes so if it will make you feel better I’m willing to go out with you now,” he says putting a gentle finger under Lucy’s chin and leans incredibly close to her.

“You never give up,” Lucy rolls her eyes as she swats his hand away from her and begins placing the flowers on the graves. She dusts the snow off of tombstones and gives them a sad smile as she places the stunning bouquets down. “I wish I could talk to you both...one more time,” Lucy tells them with a sad smile, “I’ve gone on so many adventures and made even more friends. I think you’d be proud of me Father. I never got to thank you Mother for the sacrifice you made for me...” Lucy trails off and feels the tears sliding down her cheeks as she wipes at them.

Loke puts a gentle hand on her shoulder and helps stand her up as he does a quick dark movement flashes across Loke’s periphreal vision.

“Lucy look out!” Loke exclaims and pushes her out of harms way causing a metal clawed hand that is connected to a chain digs into his side and the wielder of the the weapon pulls back causing a gash to form in his side.

“Loke!” Lucy cries out for her celestial spirit.

“Damn it!” Loke grunts and disappears back to the celestial spirit world leaving Lucy alone.

“Surprise!” A voice shouts with enthusiasm, “Well, well, well look at who we’ve got here, Lucy Heartfilia,” the person says with a terrifying grin.

Lucy looks over at the person and sees a man with a red and black striped sweater and a black fedora on his head. He’s wearing worn pants and heavy boots too. He swings the metal claw around on its black chain with a malevolent swagger.

“Looks like I’ll finally have my revenge today,” he says licking his lips as he looks at Lucy.

✰exxtra comment || y’all I finally updated from my short like months ago! lol I’m only doing one more chapter to this mini series so I hope y’all will like it when I finally get it done.

[gifted-burnout-archive]

The Morana-Andstone Letters

Chapter One: A Complicated Friendship

Word Count: 9.7K+

Author’s Note: Boom, chapter one baby! I really loved writing this, I mean it just made me happy. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

Warning: swearing, threat of violence

—

For the best part of two years, Oliver Andstone had played the role of ‘imaginary friend’ without complaint or quarrel, because he was quite sure he had lucked out on the job. He was by no means imaginary, and spent most of his time reminding himself of the fact, since Oliver was the sort of person to appreciate everything he was given in life. He enjoyed the cool crisp air on autumn mornings, the leaves turning from vibrant green into a kaleidoscope of warm yellow and brown hues; he savoured the food that landed in his mouth, often caught chewing through the bite until it turned to mush just to be sure he had encountered every flavour; and he watched every summer sunset with awe, never certain which would be his last. He tried his hardest to experience life to extents no imaginary person would be capable of, and for all his faults, he could at least be sure that he was alive, he could be sure he was real.

But every time he received a letter from Katherine Morana, by God, he was sure he had to be some figment of imagination.

He felt just the same way as the summer came to a close and he received another letter from the girl in question. It’s arrival halted his rather half-hearted efforts to pack for the upcoming school year, and when Oliver’s father, William, called up the stairs to mention that he had received post for perhaps the fortieth time over the three months of summer, he left his dad, Jaiden, rather amused as he scampered down the staircase, leaving him to finish off the packing of clothes.

“You know, if you leave your dad all alone up there, you’ll have no say in what he packs… Do you really want a repeat of Barcelona?” Will asked his son as Oliver snatched the letter from his hand, tearing it open with reckless abandon: his final plans of the summer would be confirmed by the letter, after all. “Are you- you know what? I’ll be sure your dad packs the dinosaur pyjamas.” Will offered one last attempt at stealing his son’s attention from the letter.

“Uh-huh…” Oliver replied offhandedly, moving into the living room to take a seat as he read, leaving Will to join his husband and finish Oliver’s packing for him.

Cross-legged on the white couch in the centre of his parents’ parlour, Oliver’s eyes flicked over the shabby handwriting he had become an expert at reading over the close to two years he had known Katherine. The letter wasn’t the only thing in the envelope, a ticket had dropped from the mail once Oliver had opened it fully into his lap. He barely noticed it in all honesty, rather invested in the words Katherine had written to him from a few hundred miles away in London. While Oliver had spent his summer travelling with his dads, Kat had been stuck with her family over June and July, then left to her own devices in London for August. He had been hopeful that he could maybe visit her, or her him, but it never quite worked out. However, with the ticket on his lap, he felt quite certain he would be seeing her for the first time outside school in only a few days. Unbeknownst to Oliver, his parents descended the stairs, watching him read with eagerness.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better…” Jaiden started, a grin on his face, which his husband quickly interrupted with a scowl.

“Don’t embarrass him, or he’ll never bring her home.” Will reminded, a warning to his partner, who was quick to keep quiet, moving up the stairs to fetch Oliver’s trunk and bookbag from his bedroom as their son finished his letter:

… Regarding our discussion about the World Cup, I have good news: we will both be attending. I have told my parents that I’ll be there with some friends and further down the stands. You’ll need to dress for the cold, but I’ve sorted out everything else. All you need to do is be at the co-ordinates on your ticket for 7 am tomorrow morning.

Don’t be late, Andstone,

Katherine.

And there it was, after a page of writing about their upcoming assessments and school year, the confirmation Oliver needed: he was going to the biggest sporting event in modern history, and Kat was coming with him.

“So?” Oliver looked up to see both his parents watching him with hopeful expressions, wondering if the plans had formed like Oliver had wished. In response, the teenager went red in the face.

“I need to pack warm; I’ve got the address of where to be… She’ll meet me on the other side.” Oliver explained with a shy smile, and Jaiden couldn’t help letting out a clap of excitement.

“Your first date! Ollie, isn’t it exciting?” He asked, and Oliver quickly shoved the letter and ticket into his pocket along with his hands, starting a march for the stairs.

“We’re friends… We would never date anyway dad.” He mumbled, stopping at the foot of the stairs by his trunk, and looking at his parents with a raised eyebrow. “You guys packed this?” He asked, to which Jaiden and Will nodded. Oliver proceeded to lug the trunk back upstairs with him to repack, leaving his dads laughing, heading off to make dinner as Oliver started to prepare for perhaps the most exciting trip he would ever go on.

As much as he loved holidays with his dads, there was nothing quite like the Quidditch World Cup.

--

At 6.52 am, Will stopped the car on the side of a beach just outside Newquay, Cornwall, about twenty minutes from Oliver’s home, the excited teen to his left. Jaiden had bid his goodbyes over pancakes at an early breakfast, and with Oliver returning in a few days to grab his things before they made the trip to King’s Cross and sent him off for the school year, William wasn’t feeling too sentimental… Yet. The pair stayed in the car for a few moments, until a few figures appeared out of nowhere on the sands below, a sight Will wasn’t quite sure he would ever get used to.

When Jaiden and he had adopted Oliver almost fifteen years ago, they had never expected their son to be a wizard.

He never would have guessed that wizards were real, for starters.

“Have you got your toothbrush?” Will asked, not the first of the questions Oliver had received that morning. He had triple-checked his bag the night before, and was still half-expecting to find his necessities had vanished once he landed… wherever he was going.

“Yes, dad. Toothbrush, extra blanket, money, and there’s a satellite phone at the campgrounds if anything goes wrong and I need to call.” Oliver reassured his dad and himself, glancing at the car’s clock. 6.54, he should be getting down there.

“I love you, ok? Be safe, behave, don’t be causing any trouble.” Will started to ramble, and Oliver reached over the centre console to give his dad a hug. It was a tight embrace from both ends, the affection was evident, the nerves of Oliver leaving also.

“I’ll make sure to tell you everything when I get home.” Oliver promised, and Will nodded in response, a smile on his aged features: his son’s excitement was contagious.

“Wand?” Will asked finally, and Oliver nodded, opening his jacket to reveal what some might have thought was a nicely carved twig poking out of a pocket. With the final checks done, Oliver opened his door, and waved a final goodbye to his dad before starting in a jog for the coordinates his ticket directed him to.

As his clock read 6.57 am, Oliver came across a group of ten or so individuals, all gathered rather close to an old broken wall clock, something that looked like it belonged in a kitchen from the 50s, sat on the sandy shores of the Cornwall beach. He shrugged his backpack back onto his shoulders, knocking some of the damp sand from his shoes with the help of a seaweed-coated rock, and upon looking up found an older woman stood across from him with a smile on her face.

“Oliver?” She asked, and he nodded in response, not sure quite what to think about her knowing his name. No doubt Katherine’s doing. “I’m Claire, nice to meet you. You’re our last traveller.” She explained, the mixed group starting to make their way over to the portkey. She gestured for him to follow her, and Oliver did, falling into step with her and her family: from what Oliver could make out, she was travelling with her husband and two sons, both decked out in merchandise for the Ireland National Team.

“Have you travelled by Portkey before, son?” Another in the group asked, a gentleman of about sixty who was with his wife.

“No, sir, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.” Oliver said in a chipper voice, causing a few laughs amongst the group’s older members: he was missing something.

“Portkey travel is fast and efficient, sure, but your stomach will not be thanking you afterwards.” Claire’s presumed husband explained, and Oliver nodded, not quite sure how to respond.

“I keep telling Gerald that we should have gone with the muggle train.” The older man’s wife spoke up, the pair sharing an endearing smile. “But it keeps us young.” She sighed happily, glancing at her watch. Oliver was prompted to do the same. 6.59.

“Hands on everyone.” A member of the third group instructed, a set of late-twenty somethings. “Kid, you might want to take a deep breath, settle whatever nerves you’ve got. And don’t let go of the clock until we tell you. Got it?”

“Got it.” Oliver responded, getting a tight grasp on a section of the clock, locking his fingers tight as drizzle started to pour from the heavens.

“And 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” Claire counted the group down, a sudden wind picking up as a few rays of sun broke through the rain clouds, and suddenly Oliver was spinning into the air with nine strangers.

Oliver had to admit, as he spiralled into the air and flashes of light melted away whatever world had lay beneath him a moment ago, the group really downplayed the ‘upset stomach’ thing. He had read about Portkey Sickness before, how before the Hogwarts Express was created, dozens of students would fill the Hospital Wing of the school for the first few days of semester with PS, but experiencing it was a whole other thing. It took all his might to focus on his grip and keeping down his breakfast pancakes, all while his head began pounding from the tornado of light they seemed to be trapped within.

“Right, time to let go!” Someone shouted over nature’s chorus of howling wind and hard-hitting rain, and Oliver took a second to register the words before looking around. Let go? They were still in the air, higher than he could figure out with the headache, and all that seemed to lay below was more light. He had fallen from heights before, as a Quidditch fanatic and player, one has to prepare to fall at some point, but the last time it happened he was drinking Skele-Gro for a week trying to fix a collarbone injury. He didn’t need an injury like that again.

Lucky for him, he wasn’t the first to drop. In pairs, the rest of the group started dropping down: first Claire and one of her sons, then her husband and the other, and then Gerald and his wife, leaving Oliver and the group of three. Two dropped down together, and Oliver looked across at his final travel companion.

“Let’s go, kid!” The voice shouted, the same who had instructed him before they left, and Oliver took a gulp of air before letting his hand slip its grip from the clock, and let his body go limp as he fell into oblivion… And then landed with a rather heavy thunk onto fairly soft dirt.

“I see your first portkey ride has got you looking like shit.”

Oliver didn’t need to look up to know who had addressed him, he could tell by the heeled knee-high boots that had stopped about a foot from his face, still perfectly clean despite where they seemed to be, that being the middle of a field somewhere, with pointed toes so sharp he was convinced that Katherine could stab a man with one good kick.

It might have been the first time they had seen each other dressed in anything other than school uniform, Oliver realised, though it didn’t stop Kat from being noticeable, if anything it just emphasised it: she had swapped out her usual green-edged robes and tie for a dark emerald green jumper and tight navy blue jeans, her wand poking out from it’s usual spot at her knee, a pocket made in her shoes just for the tool. Her skin seemed even paler in the early morning sun, Oliver quite glad that it was no longer raining, and her platinum blonde hair was tied up in a bun atop her head, a few strands curling to frame a face hosting blood red lips and striking blue eyes.

A manicured hand reached down to him, his companion pulling him up to his feet and taking a step back as Oliver dusted himself of dried grass and mud. He took a moment before looking up, and doing a double take, much like Katherine had. When the pair left school last May, Oliver was proud to be just taller than Katherine: it seems over the summer the inch that separated them had turned into almost a foot, the heels not doing much to assist the height difference.

Oliver hadn’t really thought about them both changing over the summer, in fact it hadn’t even occurred to him that he would start growing when Katherine stopped, or that she would somehow become prettier after all she reported was a miserable summer stuck indoors.

“Are you going to vomit or are we ready to go?” The tone Oliver had become so acquainted with since their second year of school together forced a grin onto his face, and subsequently one onto Kat’s. They would never have said they were friends before, but after a summer of letters back and forth, and at an event so huge the chances of running into anyone they knew was about as likely as being hit by a car, Kat’s comment was quickly followed by a pair of thin arms wrapping around Oliver’s torso, his pulling Kat closer and resting around her shoulders.

“See? You missed me, didn’t you?” Oliver teased as they broke apart, earning a rather hard punch on the arm. “Really? Two minutes reunited and you’re already assaulting me. New record, Morana. I’m impressed.” Oliver rubbed over the impact point, but his tone was still playful, the roll of his eyes much more in jest than malice: whatever personal bubble Oliver had around himself with the other witches and wizards he travelled with, it disappeared when he was alone with Katherine. “So… How far do we have to walk?” He asked, glancing around himself: all there seemed to be was field for miles, cut off only by a long row of trees. Katherine smiled at his question, taking him by the wrist and starting into a run up an adjacent slope, leading her friend through the long grass and coming to a halt suddenly. Oliver followed suit.

“Hold out your ticket.” Kat instructed, demonstrating herself. Oliver rummaged through his pockets, taking a moment to find the pass before lifting it out and holding it in front of him. It took a moment, and a few blinks for Oliver’s eyes to prepare, before the most wonderful sight faded into view.

The Quidditch World Cup campgrounds were something to marvel at, and as Oliver took a few steps forward, he passed through some sort of sound barrier and was met with a barrage of noise: drum beats, whistles blowing, cheers and hollering as famous Quidditch players flew overhead, music coming from all sides. Rows upon rows of tents, all different shapes and sizes, covered the fields as far as the eye could see, with a shining masterpiece of architecture place perfectly at the top of it all: the stadium.

“Jesus…” Oliver muttered, only brought back to reality by the giggle to his left, Katherine stood with a proud grin on her face as she watched him take it all in. It was her doing, his being here; she had called it an ‘early birthday treat’ for his fifteenth coming up in the autumn, and it wasn’t like Oliver could refuse the offer, not when he was probably the biggest muggle-born Quidditch fan out there. He had only been familiar with the sport for three years and had already landed himself a spot on his house’s quidditch team, and Katherine would be lying if she hadn’t known this would be the ideal gift for Oliver.

“The final isn’t until tomorrow night, that’s the game we have tickets for, so.” Kat started, linking her arm with Oliver’s and beginning a steady amble into the crowds. “I shall be your guide to the Quidditch World Cup. It’s, like, my sixth one of these.” It was actually her ninth, but Katherine wasn’t the sort of person who cared an awful lot about the wizarding world’s most beloved sport. “And again, if you tell anyone about this…”

“Like they would believe me.” Oliver chuckled, and Kat gave a soft smile. It was certainly true; no-one would believe him for a second. He and Katherine were far from compatible, let alone similar enough to be friends. Oliver telling anyone he was friends with Katherine Morana would probably end up with him in a hospital ward for severe delusions.

For the rest of the morning, the pair traversed the campgrounds arm in arm, Katherine being sure to point out the best spots for food and where all the essentials were: the stewards who could direct you back to your tent with a wave of their wand on your ticket; the satellite phone Oliver planned to use to call his dads later that night; the highest quality butterbeer merchant; the merchandise. Ollie named players as they flew overhead, explaining their positions and game stats with so much enthusiasm Katherine couldn’t bring herself to silence him. They stopped for butterbeers, watched jugglers and music groups and dancers, placed a few healthy bets on who would win, ate their lunch overlooking the Devon Cliffs. By the time 3 pm had rolled around, both were baring team scarves and merchandise: Oliver in the Bulgarian colours, his favourite team, and Katherine in Ireland’s green and white, simply because she felt a need to oppose Oliver’s choices. It was an added benefit she kept herself in green.

“Ok, ok…” Oliver wheezed his way through the words, sat by Katherine after he surprised her with a Shrieking Sherbet and had her screaming a good chunk of the campground into a daze. She had a hand held over her mouth, clamping it shut as she waited for the fizz to disappear from her tongue. “What’s next on the agenda? Am I finally getting to teach you how to fly a broom?” He questioned, and Kat picked up her butterbeer, quickly gulping down a swig and removing the last of the jinxed confectionery from her mouth before answering.

“First of all, I know how to fly, I just prefer not to ruin my hair, thank you very much.” She said with a smile. “And second, it’s not what’s next for us, but for you…” Oliver raised an eyebrow at her response, rightfully confused. This trip was meant to be time for them to spend together, a chance for them to act like actual friends. Was she already sick of him? If she were, Ollie was certain he would have been turned into a cabbage hours ago.

Katherine helped him from his seat, taking his hand as she led him through the masses and in the general direction of the stadium. Oliver didn’t complain, letting her drag him along with strength he had forgotten she had: the amount of times she had shoved him away from her or pulled him behind bushes to talk without being seen should have taught him better. They weaved through tents and people, careful to lift their feet over guy ropes and avoid other people’s feet. Oliver was still taking the place in, one hand in Katherine’s and the other holding tight to his butterbeer, sipping as his eyes roamed around him.

If only he had seen this when he was younger…

Katherine led him off the main road through the camp and into where a small cluster of tents, in a circle, sat. They were all rather small, and Oliver wondered which would be his. He had gone camping in the past, sure, and was an outdoors person to an extent, but he was rather hoping the tents perhaps had some sort of sound barrier charm on them, or he’d never get a good night’s sleep.

“So, the second part of your tour will begin shortly, but I can’t be there for it.” Kat started to explain, and sat Oliver on a log bordering a campfire in the cul-de-sac’s centre. “I will see you tomorrow for the full day, we’ll still be at the game together… But my uncle has demanded I see him for dinner.” With the words, Oliver nodded with understanding: her uncle wasn’t a man you say no to, none of her family were.

“Breakfast at 10?” Oliver suggested, and Kat nodded in relief, thankful he sympathised with her predicament. He shrugged off his backpack, letting it rest on the dirt behind him. “Am I allowed a clue who my next tour guide is or…”

“I’m a woman of mystery, Andstone… Wait and see.” Kat smirked, wrapping her scarf around her neck as she walked away and disappeared back into the rabble on the main road, leaving Oliver to mull over the day’s events so far, and realise just how tired he felt. A nap wouldn’t go amiss, he realised with a sigh, setting himself up to snooze on the log when a familiar voice sounded from round the corner.

“I do say, my boy, I’m awful excited to meet our bunk mate.” Oliver managed to catch an older man’s statement, sitting back up straight when he heard the responding voice.

“Dad, you might need to calm down a little, or you’ll scare him off.” The carefree ease of the voice was more than familiar to Oliver, it was friendly. He shot up from his seat as the two rounded the corner into the circle of tents, Oliver coming face to face with one of his oldest friends at Hogwarts, and his friend’s father.

Cedric and Amos Diggory.

Oliver Andstone, on his first day at a school for magic, having no previous knowledge that the concept of magic was real, was slightly nervous. A worried little eleven-year-old with no clue what was going on, Oliver was sorted into Hufflepuff, and found himself sat beside fourth year Cedric Diggory, who was then trying very hard to grow a moustache. Oliver had asked him what the caterpillar was on his lip, and after getting the entire section of the Hufflepuff table laughing, and after Cedric shaved the ridiculous thing off a few days later, the two kindled a sort of friendship. Oliver was muggle-born, Cedric was not, so the older boy found quite a lot of fun in teaching Ollie about the world he had grown up in, getting him accustomed to life as a young wizard. When the likes of Draco Malfoy came around to tease Oliver for his blood lineage, Cedric was quick to step up and defend the kid, and quite soon a large portion of the Hufflepuff seniors had their eye on Oliver.

As he grew up, and became integrated into the world of wizarding, proving himself in both theoretical and physical aspects of his work, Cedric was the one to convince the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain to let a third-year Ollie try out for a seeker position, which he evidently got. Cedric introduced Ollie to the Weasley twins in his second year upon discovering his love of humour: in short, Cedric was Oliver’s first friend at Hogwarts.

And now it seemed they were bunking together.

“Cedric?” Oliver questioned, walking forward to give his old friend a hug. It was quick, manly, but sincere, Cedric pulling back to ruffle the kid’s hair. Cedric didn’t have siblings, but Ollie was the next best thing.

“I suppose by your tone you didn’t send the letter?” Cedric asked, and Ollie felt himself turning red.

“Yeah, my friend may have impersonated me to keep up the surprise.” Ollie admitted, and Cedric let out a light laugh.

“I could tell by the handwriting. The thing was practically illegible.” The older responded, seemingly only just remembering his father stood beside him, who had been quite patient in his waiting for an introduction. “Dad, this is my friend Oliver Andstone. Oliver, this is-”

“Amos Diggory, my boy.” Cedric’s dad interrupted, taking Ollie’s hand in his own and shaking it vigorously. “Cedric has told me all about you, and I must say we are happy to have you staying with us.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m sorry if I seem surprised, a friend arranged it on my behalf.” Ollie tried to apologise, but Amos was already picking up his bags and headed for the tent, muttering something about meeting people for dinner. Cedric and Oliver fell into step with one another, stopping just outside the tent’s entrance.

“So, what’s her name?” Cedric asked, and Oliver’s eyes darted up.

“How do you know they’re a she?” He tried to remain nonchalant, but Cedric just chuckled and opened the tent door for Oliver to enter through.

“Because I know you, and I’ve only ever seen you go that pink when you talk about girls.” Cedric gestured for him to head in, and Oliver ducked his head through and expected to find the small tent he saw on the outside, inside.

Instead, he was greeted by a space about the same size as his ground floor back home, like a hotel had been fit neatly into a piece of fabric. The walls were warm yellows and oranges, Amos Diggory was lounged on a couch by the front door, a heater sat in the centre of the room. The kitchen, which Oliver had no doubt was fully stocked for the next two nights, was off to the right, the cabinets all made of wood, and to his left sat a closed off space he could only assume was a bathroom, beside it three separate open doors, the bedrooms. Ahead of him, a dining table, a cabinet beside it stocked to the brim with magical board games: he and Cedric would no doubt have a game of wizard chess that evening.

“I love magic.” Oliver stated quite confidently as he tried to conceive just exactly what he was witnessing, what he was a part of. As he walked further into the tent, he made sure to take cautious steps, worried it was all a joke and he’d end up running into an invisible fabric door any second now. But, it was most definitely real, Amos and Cedric moving around freely in the space, the former making his way to the kitchen to fetch some refreshments.

“Now, my boy, we’ve put you in the far room, I hope you don’t mind.” Amos offered Oliver a glass of pumpkin juice with a warm smile and happy temperament. It made sense that Cedric was a Hufflepuff, with a father so joyful and kind, it only made sense for Cedric to be the same way.

“I don’t mind at all Mr Diggory, I’m just glad you’ll have me.” Oliver answered with a grin, taking a sip of the pumpkin juice which was followed by an unexpected yawn.

“You must be tired, the Cornwall portkey got here at what, seven this morning?” Cedric interrupted, lifting Ollie’s backpack and setting it inside his assigned room. “Dad’s organised dinner with the Weasleys tonight, why don’t you get some sleep before we go?” He suggested, to which his father quickly agreed.

“Oh yes, old sport, we wouldn’t want you falling asleep over cards tonight. Cedric and I are going to see about a broom purchase anyway, nothing special. Get some rest, we’ll leave for the Weasleys at eight?” Amos offered, and with a quick set of goodbyes and finalisations, Oliver was left alone in the tent to catch some shut eye.

As he flopped onto the bottom bunk of the beds in his room, he couldn’t help but think about Katherine, and her quite obvious reasons for leaving him to himself this evening. Even if she hadn’t been called away by her uncle, Katherine’s family was a far cry from welcome at the Weasleys: his time spent tonight with friends would be infinitely less complicated than if Katherine had joined him for the evening.

His sleep was peaceful, and when Amos and Diggory had returned from a later afternoon meeting people around the campgrounds and running errands, Oliver had already changed and readied himself to a presentable standard for meeting the Weasley clan and guests. While he was friendly with Fred and George, thanks to Cedric, Oliver had yet to spend any extended amount of time with Ron and his friends. He knew, obviously, that Harry Potter was one of them, and after multiple people had explained exactly what happened to make his classmate so famous, mainly Katherine, he knew the general plot of his backstory; Oliver was, however, yet to speak with Harry, or Hermione Granger for that matter, him only sharing a class with the trio once a week.

“You dressed up for anyone in particular, Andstone?” Was what welcomed Oliver back to the land of the living as Cedric came over, slinging an arm atop Oliver’s shoulders. “Are you seeing this mystery girlfriend tonight?” He teased, and Oliver elbowed him off playfully.

“I don’t have a girlfriend Ced, I like to make a good first impression. Remember yours? You know, Caterpillar is a great surname.” Ollie teased right back, earning one of the couch pillows to the arm.

“if you boys are quite done dawdling, I have supper I’d quite like to eat.” Amos called from outside the tent, the older man having gone in and out without Oliver even noticing.

“Ready to face the redheads, Ollie?” Ced smirked, pulling his jacket tighter around him as he stepped outside. The breeze of the Atlantic left a chill in the air, not like Britain got anywhere near warm in the summer anyways. The three trudged through the crowds, still as vibrant and loud as when Oliver had arrived that morning.

“The fun never stops, does it?” Oliver chuckled as someone threw a lei the colours of the Bulgarian team around his neck. Ahead of him and Cedric, Amos was rushing through the crowds, muttering occasional ‘come ons’ and ‘hurry ups’ as they careened eastward.

It took them a good ten minutes to get across camp to where the Weasleys were staying, but the trio arrived right on eight o’clock, which seemed to make Amos very happy.

“Amos! Right on time, come in, come in. We’ve got the table all set, I’ve made my world renowned chilli, just the way you like it.” A tall, older ginger haired gentleman around Amos’ age appeared from the doorway of the tent, beckoning the trio in. Amos went first, then Oliver, and finally Cedric, finding that quite a party had formed with their addition: Fred, George, Ron, Ginny and their father were hosting Hermione and Harry Potter as well; luckily, their dining table seated twelve, so there were seats to spare. “We’ve got your places set at the table boys, go take a seat. Ron, get up here and help me serve food.” Arthur instructed, stopping for a moment to look Oliver over. “We haven’t met yet, have we? You must be Cedric’s friend Oliver. I’m Arthur.” He held out a hand, which Oliver quickly shook.

“Thank you for having me sir… Fred and George tell me you work in the Muggle Artifacts department at the Ministry?” Oliver spoke as he sat himself down between Cedric and George, the latter seemed to be betting on something with his younger sister. Ron helped his father serve the food, and pretty quickly everyone was sat back at the table, chilli before them.

“I do. Do you have an interest in the subject?” Arthur asked once he had finally sat down and begun to eat, prompting the rest of the table to do the same.

“Oliver’s muggle-born, aren’t you?” A voice got to Oliver’s point before he did, Hermione sat at the far end of the table sending him a weak smile.

“I am… My parents are businessmen.” Oliver explained after he swallowed a forkful of chilli: he hadn’t tasted chilli this delicious ever.

“You have muggle parents? Oh, how exciting! Now, what do they do, as businessmen?” Arthur questioned, and the table seemed to have turned their attention to the conversation, and to Ollie.

“Well, my dad Jaiden is an entrepreneur. He, he invents things people need, helps design new products, that sort of thing. And my dad Will, he’s in stock marketing, or was, he retired a few years ago, focusing mainly on his garden now.” Oliver explained with a smile.

“That is… Fascinating. Amos, Cedric, keep this one around. I’ll have to pick his brains over the next day or so.” Arthur grinned, and the conversation split into parts once more. Only once chilli was finished and apple pie was distributed amongst the kids, with Cedric in charge, did Amos and Arthur disappear for a friendly pint with some Ministry pals.

The course of dinner had been friendly, if somewhat reserved, but once the parents had left, George and Fred seemed intent on bonding time. While the group dug into the apple delight with content, Fred struck up conversation.

“So, how is it you’re friends with us,” He gestured to himself, George and Cedric. “But not with those three?” He gestured to the trio, Hermione keeping steady so as to not wake the snoozing Ginny on her shoulder. Oliver took a moment to swallow, accompanying the action with a shrug.

“I just don’t see them in class, that’s all. Have to see your faces almost every day thanks to Ced.” Oliver admitted with a grin, to which Cedric just smiled back.

“He barely needs me anymore; he’s got a secret pen pal. A lady pen pal.” Ced wiggled his eyebrows, earning laughs from around the room.

“At least girls are interested in me, Ced. Last time a girl tried to talk with you, you spat water at her. Is that right?” Oliver hit back, earning more chuckles from the room and playful shove from Cedric.

“You know Oliver, I think we have classes together this year.” Ron spoke up, only after he had finished his dessert. “Actually, I think we all have classes together. Not to mention you and Harry facing off at Quidditch this season.” He pondered, and Ollie smiled.

“I promise I won’t be shy.” He assured, and as Fred and George seemed to complete their mission of widening Oliver’s social circle, Arthur came into the tent with a rather tipsy Amos on his arm.

“My boy! My boy’s friend!” Amos cheered, waking Ginny with a start. Oliver and Ced shared a glance, getting up in unison from the couch and taking Amos off of Arthur’s hands.

“Time to get you to bed dad. Have fun at the game tomorrow, everyone.” Cedric bid goodbye, and Oliver turned to wave a farewell.

“Nice to meet you all properly.” He added before they exited the tent, readying themselves for a long walk home and a much longer sleep.

--

Katherine Morana was, quite simply, an unattainable ideal. She was not only from wealth, but had been blessed with the good looks the women in her family shared: a sharp jawline, platinum blonde hair that never lost its shine, bright eyes that seemed to hold a fire within them. What she lacked in height was made up by the fear she seemed to strike in the hearts of those around her, a practice she had developed from a young age.

She learned quickly that her voice would not be listened to if it filled conversations, at least not in her family. She learned to shut up, learned to behave, learned to maintain her beauty, and she took the time to practice her magic as much as possible. She was, seen by most, a statue – beautiful yet silent. She didn’t have flaws, not to the common eye, and as such she became a reminder to those around her that other-worldly beings don’t stop at mer-people and giants: she was a deity among mortals, her presence was a cold reminder of how flawed the world was, how flawed the people were.

At least, that’s what almost everyone saw. The perk that came with the title of ‘imaginary friend’ was an insight into the girl people couldn’t help but gawk at. Oliver had the chance to examine, to learn, to understand the girl who had berated him almost two years before for beating her on a Potions test. And while her flaws were miniscule, they were still there. She was still human, but no one would believe Oliver if he told them.

That next morning, as Oliver promised to see Cedric after the game, and watched him walk away with his father, he saw Katherine enter his field of vision from the other direction, and grinned at the girl he managed to make smile. She was dressed for the game later that night, a deep green blouse and skirt set paired with her signature boots and a fluffy white overcoat. Her wand held her hair in place today, though a few strands had been blown from their tight bun. She didn’t wear her red lip like usual, settling for a soft pink, and she had decided on letting her freckles show, Ireland colours painted on her cheeks just below the scattering of dots across her cheekbones and nose. Around her neck, her Ireland scarf, and as she got closer, Oliver noticed a streak of green in her hair.

“Wow, you’ve certainly gone all out.” Oliver remarked, though he wasn’t too far off her sports fanatic appearance. He had painted his cheeks red and black, wore his scarf and a hat perched atop his mop of hair.

“I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed, dressed up on your own.” She snapped back, but the smile on her face remained. “Breakfast?” She offered, breathing hot air onto her hands before stuffing them into her pockets; it seemed that autumn had come early, a patch of heavy rainfall the night before having left everyone feeling the chill.

The day continued much like the one before, with plenty of butterbeer and buying of memorable trinkets. Oliver called home from the satellite phone, promising his dads he was still alive and well before running off to join Kat at a game stand some of the wizards had set up. The pair did have to be slightly more careful on game day however, a much larger number of the British viewers arriving by portkey the date of the match. Oliver and Katherine found themselves dodging past those they knew from school, only stopping for a moment so Oliver could shout a hello to Dean Thomas while Kat got them lunch.

The Quidditch World Cup Stadium was hosting one hundred thousand spectators that night for perhaps the most exciting game in the sport’s recent history, and the pair found themselves queuing for the match some two hours before kick-off, not that either minded: Oliver was free to ramble through statistics and fun facts about the players in the starting seven on each side, and Katherine was happy to listen to him, encouraging him to tell her stories of the night before when he had finally completed his eighty minute spiel on Quidditch.

As they started their way up the staircase to a floor a few above and across from the Minister’s box, Oliver started to realise Kat was keeping him talking so he didn’t ask about how dinner with her uncle and cousin went, but he happily obliged her. From what limited contact he had had with Kat’s cousin, he could only assume his father was just as bad, if not worse, and by how invested Kat seemed to have become in the pre-game antics on the field as they found their space, Oliver knew she was trying to force whatever had been discussed the night before into the back of her mind.

“Merlin, I understand the extra layers now.” Oliver chuckled as they finally found their spots, a cold front of air pressing into them and most of the stadium’s east side. Kat nodded with a smile, pulling out two pairs of gloves from the pocket of her overcoat, handing the larger of the two to Oliver before putting her own on. Oliver noted the colours; she was wearing green, and had made the conscious decision to buy him yellow.

“So you can wear them later in the year.” Kat shrugged as she spoke, having noticed him looking at the mitts. He smiled down at her, slipping them on and tightening the scarf around his neck. “You know, it keeps getting better.” She muttered, and before Oliver could ask what she meant, he saw it: a sweet trolley. There had been a few stands selling the treats around the campgrounds, but seeing a trolley just like the one he frequented on the Hogwarts Express caused his smile to form dimples on his cheeks. “I think I might just be the best friend you’ll ever get, Andstone.” Kat remarked as he rushed off to grab them some snacks. While he hadn’t managed to get to Gringotts over the summer, he had visited their Spanish counterpart while vacationing in the Catalonia capital, ladened down by the coins that he had remembered, the morning of his departure, to bring along.

As he sorted himself and Katherine out with snacks for the big game, opting to buy himself a pair of omniculars as well, with hopes of earning a few tips from Victor Krum’s flying technique, his excited haze was interrupted by a voice, and one he wished he wouldn’t have to hear until the start of school.

“Katherine, my father wants to know why you won’t sit with us in the Minister’s box.” There was a wheeze in the voice, the inflections painting the perfect photo of a nose turning up in disgust at the more affordable seating Oliver and Kat had opted for.

“Draco, I already told my parents I’d be spending the game down here. I prefer the view from here anyway.” Kat replied, Oliver paying and turning to observe her stare out at the field below: the mascots for both sides seemed to be in some kind of argument.

“You know you’re better than the likes of this place. We both are.” Draco said again, his eyes locking on Oliver. He let out a laugh at the tall chocolate-haired boy’s appearance, like it proved his point. “You really want to be seen in the same places mud-bloods patronise?” He asked, his eyes not moving from Oliver, who was stood still in slight shock. Kat turned at Draco’s words, her face expressionless, her eyes uninterested in Oliver’s appearance, like the pair hadn’t spent the past two days in one another’s company.

“Are you trying to prove a point, Malfoy? I don’t even know who the beanpole is.” And just like that, Oliver was placed back into the role of imaginary friend right before his very eyes. Gone was the giggling, glove-gifting, butterbeer-sharing friend he had enjoyed the company of; now replaced by the façade the rest of the world got to see, that Oliver had managed to break through in their second year of school together.

“Clean yourself before you come near me again, alright? I don’t need whatever diseases these degenerates possess.” Draco finished, defeated in his convincing of the stone-faced blonde, and he marched his way back down the stairs, making sure to send Oliver stumbling with a flick of his wand. Ollie did his best to hold himself and the snacks up, leaning against the food trolley until the jinx wore off and Draco disappeared from sight and mind.

“Oliver…” Kat’s voice approached him, her hand clasping his and helping him back to steady legs, her other arm scooping half the snacks from her companion to ease his load. He took her hand gratefully, the two walking back to their spaces and sorting through the selection Oliver had grabbed them. Neither spoke for the few minutes it took to distribute and organise their treats into the hanging baskets in front of them, and once both had a warmed butterbeer in their hands and snacks at the ready for an exciting game ahead, Oliver finally spoke.

“You know, you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, taking a sip of his beverage and sending a side glance to his companion, almost back to her cheerier persona. “You could just cut him off, if you really wanted to…” He trailed off with the last words, gaining a sigh from Katherine. They had talked about Draco before, many times before, and the fact that Kat’s continued association put her in a difficult place: publicly, she associated with pure-bloods and only pure-bloods, and there were more than a few people that thought she believed what they did.

“You know it’s not that simple… You’re right, I know you are Oliver but…” Before Katherine could finish her sentence, a sudden swell of cheers surged from the crowd, the Ireland team swooping down from above in a tight V formation, circling the stadium with trails of alternating green and white smoke coming from their brooms, before flying up into the sky and each casting a spell with their wand in tandem, fireworks appearing and painting a dancing leprechaun across the heavens. Balloons in white, orange and green erupted from below, hundreds of them starting a journey upwards.

“We’ll talk about it another time.” Oliver called over the noise, and Kat sent him a smile, taking his free hand in hers as the light display lit up their faces, Oliver unable to help the smile on his face as he watched through the reflection of Kat’s eyes, so alive under the lights.

A roar came from above, a dragon of fire breaking apart the leprechaun and leading the Bulgaria team onto the pitch, Oliver deciding to keep his word and focus on the game, pulling up his pair of omniculars to watch with a slack jaw as Victor Krum led in the team of red and black. The young seeker was Cedric’s age, someone Oliver couldn’t help but idolise when it came to his abilities on the pitch: he was fast, he was sure, he was talented. If Oliver were to compare the seekers alone, Bulgaria would have won hands down, but the Ireland squad had a united front and level of collaboration that went unparalleled in Quidditch.

The match was sure to be an interesting one.

“Good evening!” A voice echoed around the upturned dome stadium, the celebrations of the crowd quieting down to listen to the announcement by none other than Cornelius Fudge himself. Kat tapped Oliver’s shoulder for his attention, gesturing for his omniculars to travel to the minister’s box. “As Minister of Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup. Now, let the games begin!”

Katherine was quite upfront about her complete lack of interest in Quidditch: she understood the sport, sure, but the idea of hurtling through the air at ungodly speeds to catch a tiny golden ball had never really appealed to her. However, with Oliver by her side, explaining the gameplay with such enthusiasm and vigour, she felt like she was an expert in the game herself. Even she could see that Ireland were the far superior team, and was quite glad she had invested her galleons into their merchandise.

Much like the semi-finals where they decimated Peru, Ireland continued to prove themselves as the best team out there in the finals: the first three goals of the match were scored by Ireland, Oliver mentioning player names as each goal was made, though Kat only picked up on Troy. After a goal from a Bulgarian, crowds gasped at Krum’s successful attempt at the Wronski Feint, which sent the Irish Seeker to the grass below.

After two hours of gameplay, and the Ireland Seeker out for the count with the team leading 170-10, the Bulgarian seeker Krum caught the golden snitch, ending the game at 170-160, and securing the World Cup to Ireland.

As the crowds began filing out, forming a winding queue down the staircase it had taken thirty minutes to climb, Kat finally looked away from the pitch and Irish celebrations to face her companion: Oliver had been silent for the last quarter of the game, completely entranced by the play in the air. He stood with a jelly slug halfway between his collection of snacks and his mouth.

“Andstone. Andstone!” Kat clapped her gloved hands with a thud, and Oliver’s daze slowly broke, the honey-eyed boy blinking away his stupor to try and refocus his eyes on Katherine. “You look like you’ve suffered a stroke.” She commented, a snarky insult to bring the boy back from his dreamscape, which she followed with a quick lift of his arms to be sure he was still functioning properly.

“Wow…” He managed to mutter, taking a thoughtful bite of the jelly slug in his hand. “What a game… I mean, two Wronski Feints? Krum is incredible.” He continued, and Katherine sighed with a happy shake of the head, taking Oliver’s free hand and pulling him into the descending spectators, keeping his hand clasped in hers and resting on her shoulder.

“If you’re quite done drooling over the Bulgarian…” Kat started with a laugh, and Oliver went red in the cheeks: he hadn’t realised just how focused on the game and Bulgarian seeker he had been.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, and a squeeze of his hand in Kat’s showed the apology was accepted.

The descent was quicker than the entrance, with the pair joining the floods of people heading back to their tents within ten minutes or so. The crowd seemed to split between those destined for sleep, those already heading for portkeys home, and those looking to celebrate, Oliver quickly coming round and taking lead towards the closest butterbeer vendor, a smiling Katherine following close behind, her free hand coming to cling to the taller student’s arm, anchoring them together amongst the crowds.

“Two butterbeers please.” Oliver called, pulling coins from his pocket to pay, and lifting a galleon out with the sickles. “And, to the victor goes the spoils.” He added, addressing Kat as he passed over her butterbeer and the golden coin. She flipped the coin between her fingers, looking over it with a little smile on her face, before tucking into her pocket, then taking Oliver’s hand and leading him to a nearby bench. The pair sat down, sipping on their butterbeers as the world passed by around them, the celebration loud and all-encompassing.

“Your portkey is leaving a 3.28, right where you dropped off yesterday. I know it’s a bit short notice, but it means you can go home and get ready for school without rushing, means I don’t get charged for another night on campgrounds.” Katherine explained over their drinks, cradling the warm brew in her gloved hands with a froth moustache decorating her upper lip and her head bobbing along to some tune a nearby group were singing.

Oliver couldn’t give a damn about what she was saying in all honesty; he was rather amused and transfixed by how genuinely joyful she could be. It was a complete contrast from their time at school, where she spent most of her days with a look of indifference on her features and a sharp tongue to fight off people just like him. Here, under stars and trying to keep off the cold Atlantic sea breeze with fuzzy mittens and a scarf coming up to cover her ears from the chill, Oliver was quite sure she must have felt happier than she had in a while, and all that did was make him happier too.

“Dance with me.” He asked as Katherine took the final gulp of her butterbeer and a much more lively melody started up nearby, prompting the crowds to jump up on their feet and begin to dance away. Katherine almost choked on the last of her beverage, wiping away the butterbeer on her top lip with a swipe of her tongue and taking a breath to counter the shock of Oliver’s offer.

“I’m sorry, what?” She asked with a laugh, not quite sure if it was from nerves or judgement. Oliver didn’t seem to be taking no for an answer, pulling her up onto her feet and spinning her under his arm. “Oliver, I think you’re one too many drinks in… Let’s get you packed up and off to rainy Cornwall, yeah?” She offered, pulling him back through the dancing masses towards his tent.

Oliver pulled them to a stop with a grin when they finally got to the cul-de-sac of tents, his own to their left, and looked around for a moment, causing his companion to raise her eyebrow.

“Come on, Morana. I can still hear the music. One dance, with no-one watching?” He offered once more, and Katherine tried to bite back the smile on her face. “As a thank you for my birthday gift.” He added, holding out a hand to her. Katherine pondered for a moment, the smile spreading further and further across her lips.

It was as their hands touched that a sudden scream caused Oliver to pull Kat close, and prompted both of the teens to pull out their wands: Oliver from his jacket, Kat from her hair. And for a moment, they thought they were insane, that it was a trick of the atmosphere.

But more screams came, this time accompanied by flashes of light and bursts of flames.

“No… No, no… This isn’t right…” Oliver heard Katherine mutter before she looked up at him and pushed him towards his tent. “Get your things, Andstone.” She instructed, and when Oliver was frozen in his spot, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the tent.

Inside, the pair came face to face with Cedric Diggory, who held his father’s and his own rucksack in hand, with Oliver’s pack on Cedric’s back. There was a moment of silence, where Cedric almost introduced himself to the stranger Oliver had brought with him to flee, but then he looked again, recognised her, and quickly scowled.

“Get him out of here. Please.” Kat found herself begging, squeezing Oliver’s arm once more before disappearing out the tent, without so much as a goodbye.

Oliver was quick to dart out after her, meeting heat and smoke, the other tents in their cul-de-sac had begun to burn. He caught a glimpse of near white hair amongst the shadows, a flash of green in the locks starting his footsteps to chase after his friend, when an arm pulled him back in the other direction, away from the flames that were eating away at the tent fabric around him faster than the snitch Krum had caught that night.

“You absolute moron!” Cedric chastised as he started a run in the other direction, tossing one of the bags in his hands to Oliver, who put it on his shoulders as they rushed for the exit. To keep up with Ced’s gruelling pace, he opted not to ask why he had been berated, the pair reaching the edge of the camp Oliver had entered from rather quickly, with Amos coming into view, checking his watch constantly, wand at the ready. Just before they reached Amos, Oliver finally managed to ask his query.

“What did I do?” He questioned, met only by a tug on the arm from Cedric.

“Newquay beach?” Amos questioned his son, who nodded quickly, each Diggory grabbing onto one of Oliver’s arms.

“Think of the beach, Oliver. Or else you’ll get splinched.” Cedric warned, his father and him sharing a final nod.

“We’re apparati-” Before Oliver had a chance to finish the question, the three disappeared from that field in Devon in a flash of yellow light.

In a moment, they had arrived in the shores of Newquay beach, quite literally: the tide was in, and the three had landed in the shallows of the salt waters. Oliver’s hand immediately went to his head, his ears ringing from the sudden travelling, only to refocus and find Cedric glaring him down as Amos trekked towards a car parked on the nearby road: no doubt Will coming to pick up his son, who was early even for a wizard.

“I cannot believe you.” Cedric let out a cold laugh, gripping Oliver once again by the arm and marching him out the shallows and onto the sandy beach after his father. “When you said you had a pen pal, I was thinking you had started dating one of your friends from quidditch: Alexis or Lucy, or you had asked out Hannah Abbott… I’ll tell you, you’re ballsy…” He was speaking in hisses rather than whispers, his anger quite clear, and Oliver finally realised why right before Cedric stated the undeniable fact.

“You’re the only muggle-born I know who’d actually be friends with a Malfoy.”

—

Tags: @im-a-writer-right @leahstypewriter

[jeonggukookies]

better || one

summary: jimin is your best friend and you wouldn’t want it any other way. or so you thought.

word count: 6,983

genre: bestfriend!jimin, college!au, bestfriends to lovers!au - fluff/slow burn angst

The first time it happens, you don’t think anything of it. Neither does he.

The hour train ride to Seoul from Incheon wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. You were seated towards the front exit and all the passengers seemed silent and tired. All you could hear were the sounds of the wind going against the train as you stared outside the window with your face pressed against the glass, admiring the blue sky along with all the cars and buildings.

You were about to close your eyes and drift off to go into a short slumber before the train came to a sudden halt, making you become fully awake. You shook your head, got up and rolled your metallic suitcase on the ground while pulling your phone out of your green hoodie to text your cousin, Taehyung that you safely arrived and asked where he was at.

At this time, you had recently turned seventeen, quietly grieving over the passing of your mother, but four months after her loss, you were forced to pack up everything that can fit in your suitcase to live with your aunt and her family as your father worked abroad, not wanting you to live that same lifestyle.

Your phone buzzed causing you to snap out of your thoughts. To your surprise, he was calling you which wasn’t something he would do often. He would always decline your calls and would just text you back right away. He was one of those people who didn’t want to use their voice over the phone. Not only that, but people couldn’t tell if he was being idiotic or was joking when he asked bizarre questions.

Sliding your thumb to answer his call, you put the phone up to your left ear and stood on the tip of your toes to see if he was nearby. “Hey, where are you? Are you even here?”

“I’m nearby your terminal.” You tried to scan the crowd for your cousin, but it was difficult when everyone was rushing to get on or off the train. “I’m by the posters in the back next to a really short blond dude.” You hear someone in the background get offended as you look far in the back, trying to identify Taehyung and the blond person who he said was next to him. “I think I see you! Do you see me waving?”

Taehyung waved at you and beckoned you to come over his direction as quickly as possible. You ended the call and groaned as you headed towards his way, knowing he wasn’t going to walk towards you. He would have gone to where you were at, but he decided not to go and let you roll your silver suitcase to him and his friend.

“Hey.” You greeted him with a small hug, not wanting to make him uncomfortable in front of the blond boy he was next to. “How are you? How was the train ride? Any problems getting here? Was everything alright? When’s the last time you’ve ate? Are you tired?”

“Besides the fact that my father forced me to move from everything I know and live here, I’m feeling alright. I could go for some of your mom’s rice cakes right now.” He rolled his eyes at you as you pulled away from his hug. His blond friend was staring at you, not knowing what to say or how to even introduce himself. You sighed and nudged Taehyung. “Did you think someone completely stole my identity and appearance or did you just happened to forget what your favorite cousin looked like?”

“Of course not. I just needed to make sure that was you! Besides, you changed your appearance!” He scoffed, trying to make himself sound believable. It had been four months since he had last seen you, and the only thing that was different was that your hair was now longer and you were a little bit taller, but those things weren’t noticeable. It wasn’t like you completely dyed your hair another color and changed the way you dressed. “But god, that would have been super awkward if that had been someone else.”

“Thanks for remembering what I look like when I did nothing,” you deadpanned and looked down at your suitcase. It wasn’t that heavy, but you wanted to complain to give him a hard time. “And thanks for helping me get this. You’re an amazing cousin.”

“You have useful arms and legs that function too!” He argued, getting all agitated. “In my defense, you saw me first and came to my direction before I could go over to where you were.”

“That’s totally what happened.” You chucked as Taehyung’s friend was still staring at you. Compared to Taehyung, he wasn’t that much shorter, perhaps three centimeters shorter, but you weren’t surprised he was being teased and taunted about it. Unlike Taehyung who was wearing all black sweats, he was wearing a vibrant yellow flannel and ripped blue jeans with dark converse. You were actually impressed with his sense of style. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Jimin,” he said with a small smile on his face and pulled his left hand out. Smiling at his small gesture, you reached out and firmly shook his warm hand, examining his soft facial features. “Taehyung’s friend. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You suppressed a gasp coming out of your mouth once your hand made contact with his. For two seconds, you held onto his hand, feeling a tingly sensation. By the look of his face, you could tell he felt it too and was startled. You hastily let go of his hand and reached to grab the cold handle of the carry-on. “Shall we get going?”

“Right.” Taehyung agreed, grabbing the car keys out of his pocket of his black hoodie. He started walking ahead while you and Jimin walked behind him, side by side. With the corner of your eye, you see Jimin slow down, so you would be able to walk by his side. “The car is nearby, so you don’t have to drag it around much longer.”

You didn’t understand the reason why Taehyung brought his friend to come pick you up. The only reason you could think of on why he brought Jimin here was that ever since your mother’s funeral, everything was not the same with Taehyung. Having a conversation with him was now awkward and silent because all he can think about is saying sorry that your mom died, and that reason was absolutely pathetic. He knew you hated the pity, but that was the only thing he could feel for you.

Everything with him used to be effortless. Although he lived an hour away, he was one of your best friends that you talked to on a daily basis. Of course, he would often tease you like an older brother would do, but he still knew how to be serious and would always try to comfort you whenever needed and you would do the same. But after the funeral, he started to become more worried about you and stopped texting you because he was afraid he would say the wrong things and upset you. He knew you didn’t want to hear any sympathy, so he didn’t say anything at all, and you missed the cousin who would always make you laugh and would ask about your day.

“Here, let me take that. You’ve had a long trip.” He took your suitcase away from you and held it behind him as the three of you wait for the valet. “You know, Taehyung has told me a lot about you.”

“Is that so?” You raised your eyebrows at Taehyung, hoping he didn’t mention anything to make you seem like you were a horrible, embarrassing person. “If it’s anything of what I think it is, It’s definitely not true and probably about himself.”

Jimin laughed at your comment, somehow making you feel a bit at ease with him. He looked at you causing his smile to grow bigger. “Don’t worry, they’re all good things, I can promise you that.”

“Oh really?” You saw Taehyung look back to raise his eyebrows at his friend, giving a look of confusion as he gave the valet his car ticket. Jimin looked back at him, giving the same look. You bit your lower lip and tried not to laugh once you realize that Jimin was just trying to start a conversation with you, but he didn’t know what to say.  “Is that so? What things has he said?���

“Well, actually.” Jimin nervously laughed and used his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, trying to think of something to make up on the spot. He was cute, sweet and had the most squishable cheeks you’ve had ever seen. His presence was actually tolerable, understanding why Taehyung brought Jimin instead of the other friends you’ve met before. “I thought that would make you feel a bit more comfortable if I said that, but obviously that plan backfired on my part.”

“Hey.” Taehyung saw a genuine smile on your face, something he hasn’t seen for a long time. The last time he saw that from you was five months ago when the doctors had told you that your mother’s health was improving. He watched how Jimin smiled back at you. “Thanks for trying, Jimin. It means a lot, truly.”

And it really did. You appreciated the fact that he didn’t mention or ask you why you were moving here and tried to make you feel relieved about everything. He was trying to make you at home even though he didn’t even know a single thing about you. For all he knew, you could have been a serial killer, yet he tried his best to make conversation. You liked the fact that he was making an effort to talk to you simply because he wanted to, not because he was forced to.

It seemed like there wasn’t a day when you could go without someone being sorry towards you because of your mom, and it hurt. Of course, you didn’t want to forget about your mom, but you didn’t want someone to remind you constantly about your loss. And you were glad Jimin was shying away from that topic.

The valet quickly brought the car over and quickly went to grab your suitcase out of Jimin’s hand to put into the trunk of the car. “Alright now, everything’s all settled and ready. Drive safe.”

“Roger that, Sir Kimberly Kim.” Your eyes widen as you heard Jimin say the same thing to the valet. You turned your head to Jimin as you get in the front seat of the car. He was staring back at you with a hint of happiness twinkling in his eyes. “No way!”

“No, no, no,” Taehyung repeatedly said, shaking his head at the situation. “This cannot be happening. You guys can’t possibly watch that same crap show he finds funny. I can barely stand him saying those catchphrases.”

There was an old show on the kids’ network that would show these two teen best friends who were both polar opposites. They would argue all the time, but at the end, they solved ridiculous crimes together. It was a show your mother introduced you to at a young age while growing up, and you were absolutely hooked by the first episode where you knew all the catchphrases said in the show. The network hardly showed the re-runs of the show anymore and would show it only on the weekends in the middle of the night, so you were surprised that Jimin somehow knew about it too.

Jimin threw his head back and laughed before looking back into your eyes he found alluring. “I have a feeling we’re going to be great at torturing him.”

“Yeah.” You smiled happily, something you haven’t done in a while and resisted the urge to touch his squishable cheeks. “You have no idea.”

“Gosh, please don’t be one of those couples that make-out in front of me too,” Taehyung teased earning a slap from you and Jimin. “Hey! I’m just saying I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys ever get together at this point.”

The second time it happens, you were both getting more accustomed to each other, and you rolled your eyes because he did too.

Taehyung was running late.

It had been six months since you moved in, and he still wasn’t used to you, living here. For example, there were times when he forgot to take you home from school and times when he had long sport practices, so you had to patiently wait two hours (without a single complaint) for him to be done. There were also times when you had to walk two miles home because he would leave early and would forget to come back to pick you up.

He had texted you that he had forgotten that his sports practice was going to be way longer than usual due to team dinner that night. He sent another text to you saying he had just texted Jimin who was now going back to school to pick you up and that he would make it up to you, something he had said the last six times he forgot about you.

You were more okay with Jimin taking you home, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous since this would be the first time you and Jimin were going to be alone without Taehyung. Over the last six months of you living here, you and Jimin had become good friends, but it never had gotten to the point where the two of you spent time alone. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable with him, but you were afraid he would be timid with you and not talk at all. You just assumed he talked to you because your cousin was there with you.

“Sorry you had to come back and get me,” you said as you got in the passenger seat of his car. As you put your seat-belt on, he smiled at you. “I’m really fine with waiting for Taehyung. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing really. How was your day?” He asked as he started driving and moving his head to the beat of the music playing on the radio. “Did anything new happen?”

“Well, do you remember Hye?” You look all over his car as it was your first time being in it. Jimin’s car was very spacious since he kept his car clean and tidy. There was no papers or trash lying around, and all his CDs were stacked in alphabetical order in the CD compartment next to the passenger seat. It was practically like riding in a new car from the car dealership. “The one I told you and Tae?”

Jimin scrunched his nose and gave you a quick glance before looking back at the road. You noticed that he stopped bobbing his head and clenched the steering wheel. Taehyung had told you that Jimin didn’t really drive much especially with people. You thought it was because he was probably a terrible driver and people always criticized him, but he was actually focused and careful driver, unlike Taehyung who sometimes get road rage over the littlest things and would stop abruptly and pump his brakes all the time to irritate you. “The one who admitted to liking you, like, a week ago?”

“Yeah, his feelings obviously changed today.” You grimaced and bit your lower lip in hesistation. “I feel so bad!”

“Come on, it can’t be that bad. What did you do?”

“I kind of might have accidentally knocked him out in gym really hard in front of the whole class.” The words fumbled out of your mouth quickly.

“You didn’t!” He laughed, congratulating you as if what you did was an accomplishment to be proud of. His melodious laugh was contagious and caused you to start laughing as well. “I can’t believe you actually managed to do that!”

“I didn’t even know I can throw that hard, but, I mean, you would expect him to catch the ball or to move instead of letting it hit his face. I know it was my fault, but I mean, no one would stand there and do nothing if a fast ball was heading towards your face.” Jimin was still laughing, wanting to clap and high five you, but he didn’t take his hand off the wheel. “Hey! It’s not funny.”

“It actually is.” He shook his head and now tapped the tips of his fingers on the wheel, matching the steady tempo of the song. “Gosh, I wish I could have been there to see it.”

“You wish you were there to see me destroy Hye’s pride or wish you saw the girl’s volleyball team practice in their shorts and spandex?” You joked, stifling your laughter as Jimin rolled his eyes and ignored your comment. “I thought you didn’t like driving.”

“I don’t.” He took a quick glance at you before looking back onto the road. “I only drive to school and then to home. After my license expires, I don’t think I’m going to drive anymore and just have other people drive me around. Honestly, driving is scary for me.”

Understanding his point of view, you nodded and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Jimin was a cautious person, and you respected that. There wasn’t anything else you could think of to talk about, so you decided to go with small talk. “How was your day?”

“It was good but probably not as great as yours.” You rolled your eyes at him as he makes a left turn when he should have made a right. “The highlight of my day is actually this conversation.”

“Where are we going?” You asked as he took another left. He was driving down a busy street and slowed down onto a busy street. “I live in the opposite direction, you know?”

“You don’t mind getting some ice cream, do you?” He was starting to slow down even more. “Sorry, I should have asked. But do you mind? It’ll be my treat.”

“That’s really nice of you, but you don’t have to do that. It’s really fine.” You look at the time in the car. “Besides, I don’t want to bother you and waste your time when you could be studying or something.”

“No, I want to,” he said, escalating to a complete stop to the curb. “I want to hang out with you. It’s actually nice having it just the two of us.”

If you had known Jimin was going to be this assertive with you, you would have offered to spend more time with him alone. It seemed like your talks with Jimin seemed endless and were just full of laughter and smiles from the both of you. Sometimes he’d be like that when it was the three of you, but you learned he was more extroverted when it was just the two of you.

You and Jimin both get out of the car, eagerly rushing to get inside. There were some strangers on the sidewalk giving you strange looks as you entered the shop, looking at every inch of the place in awe. “Wow.”

To your left, there was a gift shop with a bunch of ice cream related souvenirs and apparel. The whole shop had round tables all around, all waiting to be filled. There were stairs that lead to the upper level of the building. The upper level seemed like a more relaxed area where there were some high tables along with couches. You wanted to go upstairs and look out towards the window, but you decide not to say anything and followed Jimin. “It’s pretty fancy for a regular ice cream shop. Don’t you think?”

“A tad bit.” Jimin shrugged his shoulders. He sat down on the stool and gestured for you to sit down next to him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and put it on the granite counter as you wait to be helped. “You haven’t been here before?”

“I never knew such a place like this existed.” Now looking up at the scintillating chandelier that hung above your head, you shook your head. “I can’t believe I’m just coming here now.”

“You make it seem like it’s Paris or something.” You rolled your eyes at his comment. “I thought Tae would have brought you here now. This used to be his favorite place to eat ice cream.” He bit the inside of his cheek, not knowing if you had heard what happened.

“What changed?”

“He slept with the owner’s daughter a few months back. I think it was right before you came here.” He explained awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “That didn’t end well, obviously.”

“Makes perfect sense.” You nodded in agreement, being nonchalant about what he told you. “Don’t worry, I know all about Tae and his way with girls. It’s kind of disgusting, but I’m cool with it, so no need to act like it doesn’t exist.”

“Thank goodness,” Jimin muttered out as the short shop attendant finally noticed you both and gave a list of options available. “I just didn’t know if you knew.”

Looking down at the menu, Jimin smiled to himself, watching your eyes move as you try to read the whole thing quickly. He watched your eyebrows scrunched together as you try to find a flavor you wanted. “Do you know what you want to order?”

“There’s too many options. I’ll just have whatever you’re getting.” You turned your head and see Jimin raising his eyebrows at you. “What? Is something wrong?”

“What if I just get a vanilla cone for the both of us?” You wrinkled your nose in disgust, hoping he didn’t. To you, vanilla was a bland flavor that you couldn’t stand. Ice cream was supposed to be sweet and colorful, you thought.

“Last time I checked, you’re not that kind of bland guy to get Vanilla.” He chuckled at your comment. “Now, hurry up and order.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Jimin always asked you this question quite frequently. It was like he had to ask you permission to do something just in case he was afraid you wouldn’t approve.

“You ask me that a lot.” A smile on his face grew bigger once he saw you bite down on your lower lip, trying to stifle a giggle. “But it’s totally fine. I like all of them honestly and I probably couldn’t choose one.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s with that stupid grin on your face?”

“You’re counting on me to be the decisive one?” He teased, winking at you. “I didn’t know you hold so much faith in me for picking the perfect and tasteful ice creams.”

“I swear, Jimin, if you put a crappy one, the ice cream will not be going down my mouth instead it’ll go down your pants,” you threatened, but Jimin knew you wouldn’t do that. He knew your bark was much worse than your bite.

“Wow, I didn’t know you were that cold. Perhaps I should just order all of them then and see which ones you do like? Will that make you more decisive about ice cream flavors?”

You were going continue the playful banter between the two of you, but you couldn’t respond when the short store attendant had finally come.

“Is the lovely couple ready to order?” The short store attendant exclaimed, waiting for Jimin to order for the both of you. He shortly paused, rolled his eyes, and then returned to his normal self, ordering two scoops of cotton candy ice cream.

It happens for the third time, and Jimin was unfazed and laughed.

As Taehyung was getting busier with his sports practices, you started to become closer with Jimin where hanging out with him after school had become a new routine. Instead of waiting for Taehyung after school, Jimin would find you in the crowded halls after your last class and would take you home, so the two of you would just spend time together there. Jimin didn’t mind if the two of you were just doing homework or watching dramas, he just wanted to spend time with you in any way possible.

For the first few days, Taehyung’s parents found it awkward were that he was there with you instead of their son. They were actually confused that he didn’t come to play video games, but he had came to study and talk to you. It wasn’t a big deal, but his parents made it into one when your aunt had asked Taehyung if he was okay with the two of you one night after dinner when everyone was dismissed and it was his turn to wash the dishes.

You were in your room, having your back leaned against the white wooden door as you listened to every word of their conversation through the thin walls. “You want me to what? I’m not going to tell Jimin to stop coming over here. That’s absolutely insane! He would go ballistic. Why would I do that?”

“We just find it strange that he’s here with Y/N after school instead of you,” you heard your aunt say to Taehyung. She finished washing the glass dishes and talked her son as he was drying the plates with the paper towels. “I mean, he’s your best friend.”

“He’s also hers,” he replied without no hesitation in his voice. “I’m perfectly okay with this because this is harmless Jimin we’re talking about. Jimin, the boy that played dolls with my younger sister. Not only that, but he makes her happy, and that’s what your sister would have wanted for her own daughter. You should focus on that and want that too, especially with what she has been through this year.”

After that day, his parents slowly realized that he was right. They noticed how the two of you were always laughing happily although you two were just in the living room, finishing homework on the long coffee table. They noticed how you were finally smiling more often and were starting to socialize with people, finally opening up since the move. They had been thinking about if this would affect their son’s happiness when they should have focused on yours.

About two months later, Jimin noticed how you weren’t at school one day. He thought you were home with some sickness and were going to return the next day, feeling better, but he then noticed you and Taehyung weren’t there the next day, and that next day had suddenly become a week.

“Where did you and Y/N go?” Jimin asked Taehyung once he returned to school the following week. They were both in library during their free period, sitting silently at one of the round wooden tables in the back of the room. Jimin was pretending to read a book he had randomly picked up from the rack while Taehyung was doing all the homework he had missed without muttering a single complaint or question. “You guys didn’t answer any of my calls or voicemails. Did you guys forget how to pick a phone call?”

“Don’t worry about it. We were at home and were just fine.” Taehyung tediously focused on his math homework. “The answer to this problem is nine, right? I don’t have my calculator out to check.”  

“Why were you guys at home? Is she at home now? Or is she in class?” Jimin asked in a hushed voice, ignoring Taehyung’s question concerning his maths assignment. “What happened? Is she okay? Are you okay? Did your charger break?”

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” Taehyung picked up his pencil from the table and started writing the problem down on his white lined sheet of paper.  “We’re both perfectly okay. Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

“Why is she home again?” Jimin was worried about you. He didn’t like the tight feeling in his chest when he thought of the horrible scenarios on why you were gone. Had he done something wrong? Why weren’t you answering any of his calls? Were you okay?

“She just misses her mom a lot.” Taehyung wanted to smack his best friend once he saw the confused expression on his face. He grabbed his math textbook and threw it to Jimin who moved to the side to avoid getting hit. The students and librarian gave him a nasty glare and then continued to ignore him and Jimin.

“What was that for?” He asked, trying not to raise his voice in the library.

“It’s been a year since her mom died, idiot.”

Jimin skipped the rest of his afternoon classes and drove to your house after he got a lengthy lecture from Taehyung about how to be a better friend. He knocked on the front door and waited approximately five minutes for you to open the door. He stood outside with a box of cotton candy ice cream and two spoons in his hand. A smile appeared on his face once he saw you. He stared at how your hair was all tangled up and how you had the darkest bags around your eyes, showing you hadn’t slept for about a week. You stood there, wearing your white baggy sweats and bunny slippers with a heavy, green blanket wrapped around you, watching him stare at you. “Let’s talk.”

And the two of you did. Jimin saw the stacks of movies on the coffee table and picked the old version of the Lorax to put in the DVD player. He had a soft smile on his face once he turned around to see you already opening the ice cream he brought. You shared and wrapped the blanket around him, not wanting him to be cold. He talked throughout the entire movie, trying to make you smile and laugh but all you did was sat there, reading the subtitles on the screen and silently listened to all his thoughts.

“My mom loved this movie.” You put the empty box of ice cream down and gulped down whatever was in your throat. Although you and Jimin were close, this was the first time you were talking about your mom. “My dad actually hated it, but he would always watch it with her just to see her all happy and laugh. I was scared to watch it because I thought I would freak out, but I’m glad you were here and talked throughout the whole thing.”

“Of course.” You closed your eyes and leaned your head on his right shoulder as he put his arm around you. His thumb was rubbing the side of your arm in small circles, comforting you. “What was she like?”

“You would have liked her a lot.” He nodded. “She was really funny and laughed way too hard and too much at her own jokes even though they were terrible. And she cursed a lot, but she was still philosophical and appreciative about everything and everyone.” You kept your eyes closed, not wanting to let any water fall from your eyes. You can still hear her voice and picture her face perfectly even though it’s been a year. “She’s a lot like Taehyung actually. We both looked up to her.”

“Was your dad here last week?” Just like your mom, Jimin had never heard you talk about your dad. He actually never heard you talk about your past life and friends from your other town. It seemed like he knew everything about you except where you had came from. The only thing he knew was that he worked abroad.

“Yes.” It was your first time talking about your parents after the move, and it hurt. Taehyung actually had tried to get you to cry and shout about your dad, mom and the move, but you kept your feelings bottled up. You didn’t want anyone hearing about your burdens, but a year had passed, and everything was finally let out. “He came to take me visit my mother’s grave and asked me how I was doing here. He left last night.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s an important executive for this fancy organization. My father used to work for the headquarters here, but started working abroad after my mother got sick to earn more money for her medical bills. I thought he would return to working here, but instead, he worked more and more far away from me.” Trying not to cry, you took a deep breath. You didn’t realize it would be so easy to tell Jimin how you felt and wished you had done it sooner. “I always wondered why he didn’t want to take me and why he wanted me to live here. I wonder if I did something wrong. Perhaps, I would remind him of my mother, but it still hurt that he had left me all alone when I thought we would grieve together. I had to do it all alone.”

Unlike your cousin who would tell you things like ‘everything is going to be okay,’ Jimin didn’t. He listened to you, and that was all you needed. It wasn’t someone would pity and comfort you, but someone who would only listen and that was the comforting you needed. “I’m so glad I met you, Jimin. Thank you for coming into my life.”

You felt your legs intertwined with Jimin’s under the blanket as you slowly drift off to sleep. Jimin’s hand softly untangled strands of your hair, not wanting to disturb you. He kissed the top of your head as he held you tighter. “Sleep well.”

The front door handle rattled for a bit before it was opened. Taehyung’s mom came through the door and took off her black heels. She was about to head to the kitchen to set the groceries down that were in her hand, but she noticed Jimin on the couch with you.

“I hope you don’t mind me being here,” he said quietly. He loved Taehyung’s parents, but he felt awkward to be there after that one night you called him and ranted to him all night about how they didn’t like him here with you. “I was worried about Y/N and wanted to cheer her up a little. I can leave now if you’d like.”

“It’s perfectly fine, Jimin.” She looked down at your sleepy face and chuckled once she saw the corners of your lips was smeared with ice cream. She was trying to get you to sleep for the longest time this week and was relieved to know you eventually fell asleep. “I don’t know what you did, but she’s finally sleeping, and I’m thankful for that. I’m glad both of you have each other even though it’s a little young.”

“I’m sorry?” He heard what she said, but he needed her to repeat it again. Did Taehyung’s parents think you and Jimin were exclusive? Was that the reason why they weren’t fond of him coming over when Taehyung wasn’t home? “What was that?”

“Aren’t you two together?” She emphasized the word together and Jimin laughed at her mistake. He didn’t think it was funny, but he was unfazed and laughed because he didn’t know how to react to her comment. “We just assumed since you spent a lot of time with her after school. I’m sorry.”

“I love her. I really do,” he said, staring at your face as you peacefully slept. This wasn’t the first time he had seen you asleep. There were multiple timers where you accidentally would fall asleep when you were watching them play video games. He admired the way you looked when you were sleeping, and he smiled. “But just not like that.”

From that moment on, that’s what he told everyone when they asked if the two of you were dating or together. He would throw his head back, smile and tell them he liked you platonically.

It’s been six years since the move, and you and Jimin were practically inseparable. Jimin was now sharing a dorm with Taehyung while you lived nearby on your own. The three of you were attending the same university, finishing up your last year together.  

It was Friday night, and Hoseok insisted everyone to go to the nearby club to dance and drink. The boys were on the crowded dance floor, dancing and continuously hitting on girls while you and your close friend, Tiffany were at the bar, enjoying your cocktails.

Tiffany was your exact polar opposite. She was raised by two moms in Daegu and spent a lot of her nights partying and socializing with different types of people. While growing up, she played volleyball and the viola and didn’t really have any male friends up until now after you had introduced her to yours. You met her when she took a seat next to you in your public speaking class and would always laugh at the sarcastic remarks she’d made about the professor under her breath. Although she was completely different from you, the two of you became great friends after being partners for a project.

“Be honest with me.” You nodded and started drinking your drink as the music started to get louder. Your favorite thing about her was that she was blunt and always got straight to the point. It was one of the few traits you both shared. “So there hasn’t been a time you’ve thought about sleeping with Jimin?”

Spitting out your drink, you looked at her as if she was crazy. Within the three years you’ve known Tiffany, she was one of the few people that didn’t ask you if you were with Jimin, and you were quite thankful for that. In fact, when you introduced Jimin to her, she had asked for your permission to go out with him as a joke. “You’re kidding, right? He’s Jimin, my best friend! Nothing more, nothing less!”

“Come on!” She threw her head back and laughed. “I’m obviously not the first person who thought about this. Be honest! Have you ever thought about him in that way?”

“Are we actually having this conversation right now? This is completely disgusting!” She gave you a death glare as you rolled your eyes and set the glass on the bar counter. “I mean, no. Not really. There are times when I find him attractive, but that’s the closest thing I’ve thought about him in the way you’re thinking about.”

“You cannot be serious!” She shouted, not caring if the people around her heard the conversation. “You’re telling me that you and Jimin have known each other for years and never kissed or anything?! Not even accidentally when the two of you are drunk and gazing into each other’s eyes at three in the morning? Not even a dirty dream?”

“Never!” You laughed, ignoring your racing heartbeat. It wasn’t a big deal, and you never thought it was. It was actually quite a shock to you when she finally brought the topic up because you had hoped this conversation would never happen between the two of you. “Besides, even if I did have a crush on him, I honestly don’t think I would do anything.”

“You are completely insane, like, please tell me how we’re friends!” You laughed and turned your head to Jimin. He was bending down to whisper something into a short blonde girl’s ear, probably asking her to dance with him or was giving her an invitation to his dorm. “He’s so attractive and would protect you against anything in the world, but you wouldn’t do anything.”

Biting your lower lip, you nodded. “That’s right.”

“Even if the two of you liked each other, you wouldn’t do anything at all?”

“I don’t think so.” You shrugged your shoulders once again. “For many good reasons.”

“Like what?” She scoffed and took a sip of her drink. “And don’t give me any bullshit answers! Give me actual practical and logical answers.”

“One, he would never like me.” All the girls Jimin went out with were all bubbly and knew how to continue a conversation with other people while you only talked to your friend group and would barely interact with other people. They also had to play a sport, while you never bothered playing anything and dedicated your time on studying or working. “I’m pretty sure he sees me as a sister he’s never had.”

Tiffany stared at you for a few seconds and shook her head. “I feel like I’m friends with Stevie Wonder right now. You are truly blind if you cannot see the way Jimin looks at you!”

Ignoring her, you continued, “Two, if I ever gain those feelings, I rather be close to him and be his friend than to ruin everything. I would be hurt if he didn’t reciprocate those kinds of feelings. He’s my best friend, and I am thankful for that. Him being in my life is all I need.”

You turned your head, and she looked at what you were staring at. She watched as Jimin got turned down by the blonde and stared at you as you stared back at him with amusement in your eyes. Even in the most crowded rooms, your eyes would find a way to meet his, and Tiffany can tell that you two were somehow having a conversation with your eyes. “You guys are literally having eye sex right now, and you’re telling me there’s nothing going between you and Jimin?!”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” And that’s what you told everyone because you thought your platonic feelings for your best friend would never change, but it slowly did before you could even realize it yourself.

[tropicalfreckles]

Friends Again CH 2

MASTER LIST found here B**TLEB*BES DNI

Summary:   Lydia wasn’t sure what to expect, but prepared herself best she could as that familiar figure filled her bedroom with smoke and fire.

WARNINGS: They talk about trauma briefly and Lydia impaling Beej

Lydia raised her voiced the third time, feeling the air around her becoming heavy. Books and knickknacks flew off her bookshelf, clothes flew out of her dresser. A gust of wind flowed through the room out of thin air whipping her hair around. The lights in her room flickered as a fog crept from under her dresser and bed. It swirled with a vibrant green glow that crackled from the floorboards, becoming more intense as the force of the wind joined it. An eerie cackle bounced off the walls of her room. Lydia was glad she raised the volume on her music earlier. Just as a thunderous boom rattled the windowpane of her bedroom, the fog exploded in a light show and floating before her eyes was the demon.

   Just as she remembered him. Though right now he was floating above her floor looking a little bewildered, yet elated with a malevolent grin plastered across his face. He scoped the room out as his body vibrated a little. Jagged, yellow teeth. His dirty disheveled striped suit. That electric, messy green hair bleeding into the brown roots that met his forehead. The moss still growing on the side of his face. Those sunken in eyes, wild as ever. He hadn’t even noticed that she was in the room with him.

    “Hooollllyyyy shiit! Someone actually summoned me! I’m out of that piles of paperwork, bureaucratic hellhole! FREEDOM! FREEE-EEEEDDOOOMMM!” That raspy voice rang out as his fingers rung through that grimy, soft hair of his. He was so ecstatic that he jumped right into being destructive when his eyes darted to the curtains. With a swipe of his hand it lit ablaze and he turned to do more mischief next. Lydia panicked, jumping off her bed as she grabbed at her pillow and threw it at his head to get his attention.

        “Put that fire out, you dumbass!” She hissed pointing the water gun at him. The joy that was once displayed across the demon’s features now was replaced with a more complex one after he looked down. Shock hit him fast. The flames that began to engulf her curtains died out. He let gravity plant his ass right on the floor. Lydia followed his body with her gun never letting up her stance.

    “You? You.. You.” His voice cracked at first. Then became more gravelly and hoarse on the last ‘you’ he managed to croak out. Realization hit like a trucker ramming into fresh roadkill when he noticed which house he was in. Staring up at the girl he once called his friend, his hands balled up into fists as he furrowed his brow. Streaks of blue, purple, and red shot out from his hair a vibrant mix of colors betraying him with it’s display of his emotions. He inhaled deeply as he went to stand up. Lydia stomped her foot down, causing him to flinch for a moment. Beetlejuice stayed where he was instead.

        “No! St.. stay there.” She frowned. His gaze traveled down to stare at the water gun. A guttural laugh ripped from him as he gave her a snort, shaking his head.

    “What’re you gonna do? Get my suit wet? Please. A little bit of water ain’t gonna hurt me. Even if I rather stay dry.” He mumbled, crossing his arms as he eyed her up and down. Clicking her tongue, Lydia rolled her shoulders.

        “It’s holy water! Look, I..” A flash of guilt hit her causing her expression to soften for a moment. “…I just want to talk.” She awkwardly shuffled her feet around a little. Beetlejuice’s shoulders slumped  as he rolled his eyes, giving a heavy sigh.

    “…alright, I’ll give ya ten minutes, kid. Then I’m outta here; now that I’m summoned I rather be any place than here.” He mumbled. Lydia took a step closer to him. In response he shuffled away from her. She opted to sit down then where she was, so she could look at him at eye level. He was curious why she would even want him near her after everything that happened. He’d never admit it but he did feel the tiniest, smallest bit of guilt for what he did to her. Alright he did actually feel guilty. Even though he felt she was a little selfish which he usually valued in a person. I mean really who chooses a mother over their own friend? Most people, probably. However he still had a  smidgen of a grudge about it. She was still fun to hang out with though and treated him nice in her own way. Nicer than anyone ever had been to him, in fact, as pathetic as that was. She even gave him a hug. The colors in his hair slowly faded back to his usual green though small streaks of blue were still branched out from his roots. Lydia seemed to be struggling with starting with whatever she had to say to him. BJ knitted his brows feeling a little anxious himself, though opted to be patient once in his life and let her speak when ready. Still had the gun pointed at him; that was fair with their track record.

        “So.. I just.” She groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. This was hard. This was harder than she thought it would be.

        “..I. I wanted to start off by saying, that. I’m not sorry about doing what I did. I couldn’t let you hurt everyone. I was mad that you almost made me get rid of Barbara. I was hurt that you betrayed me, I told you I just wanted to get my mom back. We could’ve gone back to scaring people after I figured it out. I was hurting, I missed her. I know.. it’s a sore subject for you. I get why parents are something that make you upset after meeting Juno.  But, my mom was nice.. I love her.” Her arm begins to tremble a little.

         "I am sorry for being the reason you had to see Juno again. I’m sorry she tried getting rid of you for good. You’re not a screw up, or a fool.. I just.“ She teared up a little, feeling everything she has been holding back for months begin to creep up on her.

He could just use this opportunity to split. It was uncomfortable dealing with an emotional teen. Plus she was talking about his mother the person he hated the most in any existence. A nagging feeling was keeping him there however. Something about watching this girl. That enjoyed scaring almost as much as he did, crying. It hurt a little for some reason. He rubbed the bridge of his nose when he heard her crying pick up, becoming harder. She hiccuped a little and it was annoying.

    "Okay, okay; no water works kid, please. Also it’s kinda hard to hear you over that music.” He snapped his fingers and the music turned down just a little. He sighed, glad that her attention came back to him when he spoke.

    “Take your time if you gotta. I suck at reading people outside of scaring them. It looks like this had been bothering you for a while. Don’t rush through it.” He mumbled not really knowing how to comfort her. “This the reason you summoned me?” He asked while leaning back as his hands moved behind him to hold his weight. Lydia nodded, wiping some tears away.

    “It’s. It’s more complicated than that… ever since you left. I’ve been having nightmares..” Lydia’s voice gave out near the end of her sentence.

    Nightmares usually were fun so he didn’t understand what the problem was. Although he knew breathers some times had nightmares about things that were really shitty. Maybe it was that. He motioned for her to continue.

    “I don’t know if. If it’s guilt, or my trauma, but.. I never killed someone before. I don’t really want to do it again either. It was.. it was scarier than anything I’ve ever experienced before.” Her voice trailed off barely an audible whisper. She set the water gun down now that she was sure he wasn’t going to do anything.

Even though he wasn’t usually around ankle biters. He had some understanding that while murder was fun for him, that would take a toll on a kid. It was different than him killing for her. She actually killed for herself. He grimaced a little, unconsciously grabbing at his chest where she had impaled him. Lydia had noticed this however and balled her hands into fists while she gripped her dress.

        “If this is too hard for you, you can leave.” Lydia spoke up again staring up into his eyes.

Beetlejuice wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t scared of this kid. He didn’t need any pity. Although maybe she did just want him to feel comfortable. Why was she being so considerate? They never really were friends, right? Even if he thought so. He snorted, waving her off.

            “Kid, I’m fine. So, what’s this nightmare.” He fixed his composure, tightening his tie.

Lydia shrugged as she looked for anything else to focus her gaze on. This next part was going to be hard. She didn’t want to open up to him but she no longer wished to feel dread whenever she slept. The nightmares had to come to an end. She wanted to move on with her life.

     "The nightmares are all the same one, actually. It’s the day I killed you. It starts of as it actually did. You talking about how life was too much to handle. Getting ready to murder someone because you couldn’t process it. Then, me stabbing you. After that though, everyone starts to turn into weird blobs. You and I are the only ones that still have a shape. Everything fades into a dark abyss. Mouths appear out of no where, laughing in a creepy way at us. Blood pours from their mouths..“ She starts listing the things off on her fingers. She was having trouble keeping up with what she was saying unable to make eye contact with him. Beetlejuice tensed a little when she mentioned murdering him, thinking of course she has to talk more about it.

     "Then your mom is there. She’s holding you up, like you’re her captive or something. Then a sandworm eats us. That part got kind of weird. Even compared to the rest of the nightmare.” She mumbled. Finally she manages to look back up at him. Beetlejuice was leaning forward now, his elbows resting on his thighs, hands in his lap. He was staring right at her.

        “Well fuck, Lyds; that is a lot to unpack.” He moved a hand up to stroke his chin. Not really sure what to say in the moment. He needed to collect his thoughts. When he noticed her fidgeting in place, tears brimming her eyes again, he didn’t want her to cry. Beetlejuice crossed his arms as he sat up straight.

       "Alright.. so. Dreaming about killing me, which, I gotta admit; now that I’ve had time to mull it over the past couple of months I’m impressed. You successfully manipulated me by agreeing to help me be alive. Then killed me so you could send me back to the Netherworld. Haven’t been tricked by a breather like you before.“ He gave a small smirk almost proud that the first person that agreed to help him scare in a long, long time could have a conniving side.

       "We should probably get to the bare bones of the matter.” He clapped his hands together and a bunch of bones came into existence. Clattering onto the floor around them. Lydia jumped a little then stared at them, trying not to let out a small snicker. Good, laughs, that was something he could work with to try and cheer her up.

      “Fiiiirrssst, even though I am impressed you killed me and fair enough since I was being kind of an ass…” Before he could finish his sentence Lydia had chimed in with a quip.

    “I’d say more than kind of. You did threaten me and my family to get me to do a green card marriage.” She quirked a brow, her fingers tapping on the ground as she gave him an unamused look.

        “Alright. That was shitty of me.” He conjured a white flag waving it in peace as he heaved a dramatic sigh.

     "For real I’m sorry I did that. It wasn’t cool and came off pretty sketchy. If you hadn’t noticed I don’t like being alone. So I panicked because I thought you were going to ditch me.“ The purple in his hair began to creep back and Lydia just gave him an understanding look to let him know he could continue.

        "Unfortunately the only way to bring a ghost alive again is to marry them. I should’ve weighed my options better. I’m.. uh..” He gagged a little as he tried to form the words, having a hard time. Saying sorry was one thing, yet doing a heart-felt apology made it feel like he was going to combust.

      “Gimme a sec..” He slapped his face, his head spinning around on his neck comically in a 360 spin as he came to his senses. When he was done being a ham he looked back to her.

        “I’m deeply apologetic about what I did. Normally I take being creepy as a compliment, however out of context of what I was trying to do it’s super…” He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. Fucking creepy and not in the good way. Even in context it’s still shitty.” He mumbled. “Having a talk with Miss Argentina made me realize that. When I heard it outloud for the first time after the fact. I swear I didn’t meant to come off that way, though.” Beetlejuice raised his hand as if doing a mock boy scouts honor salute.

        “Oh, that nice ghost lady I met in the Netherworld..” Lydia leaned back against her bed, feeling like she could relax a little finally.

     "Well. You actually sound sincere, which is weird since your voice always drips with sarcasm or something like that.“ She looked away for a moment as if contemplating something. ”..I know you said that you were impressed. However.. did killing you hurt you? Like, besides the obvious.“ Her gaze drifted back to him.

    "Hurt me? I mean, yeah, it would fuckin’ hurt getting bad art impaled through a meatsack body.” He thought more on what she said then it dawned on him. She meant if it hurt his feelings. He ran a hand through his ever-shifting array of colorful hair trying to figure out how he should respond. Sure it did kind of did hurt his feelings. Yet it’s like he said, the situation he forced her in was pretty shitty. She also mentioned she wasn’t sorry for what she did to him. She was still being nice at least. Maybe those dweeby Maitlands rubbed off on her a bit. Even though he only knew her a brief time the Lydia he knew before probably wouldn’t have given too much a shit about this. While she was fun and sort of nice to him when they scared people. She still easily jumped to kill him.

   "Eh. Maybe just a bit. However I already said I probably deserved it. It’s better that I’m dead anyways. Being human was hard. Even if it was just for like four minutes, or less.“ He counted off on his hand.

    "Okay..” She looked him over, unsure if she should continue. Wanting to get back to the topic on hand she cleared her throat. “So, about the dream..” Beeltejuice took his hand, pounding a fist into the other one.

        “Right, right. The thing you summoned me here for in the first place. Yeah.. so, blood, my shit mom, sandworm. I ain’t really a shrink, Lyds. So what I’m gonna say next is probably gonna be some bullshit. Like.. I don’t know, is it a guilt dream? Why’d you tell me about it?” He was still unsure about some things that were going on her. Though he tried to give his best bet. Lydia shook her head as she grabbed onto her feet, tilting forward.

    “I already kind of understand what the dream means now thanks to my therapist. What I called you here for is I wanted you to hear it. I wanted you to know how I feel. What we all went through together and I wanted to hear your thoughts on it. Also how you felt about how we ended things. I did the apology I felt like you needed and I told you what I wasn’t sorry for. I kind of feel a little better. Although I still feel like crying a lot, too.” She moved her hands away to wipe as her face again.

   "It’s… so overwhelming. I’m.. I’m scared, Beej.“ Lydia softly spoke, admitting finally what she was afraid to say. Beetlejuice was stumped. She actually admitted for the first time to him ever she was afraid. Not of him, he was sure of that at least. Of what he wasn’t sure. The nightmare itself? It’s meaning? He really did suck at this. He grumbled a little then began to drift off the ground, floating into the air to move closer to her. He plopped himself down next to her. Startling her a little as she jumped from him. He raised his hands up in defense quick to respond.

    "Hey, hey, wait; don’t be.. uh. Scared. Just…” He began to hesitantly wrap an arm around her before realizing he probably should ask.

    “Uh.. this okay?” He asked, staring at her as he kept his arm in mid air. Lydia stared at his arm then at him. She wrinkled her nose from the smell of his unwashed suit along with the earthly-dirt scent that lingered off his body. The sentiment he was offering had to have been tough for him to do and it showed he actually cared about how she felt. She gave just a small nod and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He moved his other around around her front and gave her a small hug then patted her back.

     "I don’t actually know what you’re scared of kid. Although I’ve gotta say I’m hurt I’m not scary enough for you.“ Beetlejuice gave a mock-hurt tone to the end of his sentence as to try and lighten the mood. Lydia surprisingly clung to him as she let out a soft whimper. His shoulders dropped as he started to let go of her, only to be stopped when he felt her tighten the hug. She began crying again. He lost count how many times this made now. She buried her face into his chest, sniffling as she curled up in his arms. He wanted to just phase out of the room yet opted to stay since it seemed like she needed this. He rested his chin on top of her head as he just let her continue to sob.

    "I hate this. I hate feeling… this scared. It’s-it’s so suffocating. Why does this hurt? Why do I feel horrible.” She managed to choke out. Beetlejuice tensed while she spoke.

        “Wish I knew, kid; my specialty is scaring, not helping people stop feeling scared. But ya got a good support system Lydia. Those sexy, nerdy Maitlands actually nutted up to try and protect you. Your dad chased after you into the Netherworld when you ran off. That Delilah chick probably cares about you too.” He tried thinking up everyone that she actually had in her life that cared. He wish he had that. Wish he had someone who loved and cared about him. It was a hard concept to wrap his head around, he always felt like he never deserved it. Lydia shook her head, looking up at him finally.

    “Her name is Delia, not Delilah. You know, it’s weird. She actually does.” She sniffled, smiling softly.

  “You weren’t there for that part. Since your mom kind of tossed you out. Delia threw herself in front of me, saying that she wanted to protect me when Juno was threatening to drag me back to the Netherworld. Ever since then she’s been trying her best to understand me. Even if I’m not the warmest to her sometimes. I appreciate the effort at least. I know she’s isn’t faking it.” Lydia patted his side, indicating he could let her go as she sat back again. Beetlejuice moved his hand to rub the back of his neck.

  “You know for someone who says he sucks at comforting, you didn’t do that bad of a job.” She gave him a tired smile, then picked up the water gun again. He eyed it bit warily. She tossed it away then gently nudged him. “Can you believe I was gonna blast your face with that?” That made him crack a grin then gave her a snicker.

    “Yeah that probably wouldn’t have done much, anyways. Other than make me slightly clean.” He stuck his tongue out.

    “Well, it might’ve stung a little. I don’t know. I haven’t had holy water thrown on me before, if you would believe that. It’s rare I scare priests. It’s a hoot when I do even if it’s never in a church. Those places are waaaay too stuffy.” He rolled his eyes. He snapped his head back to her. “So, I actually helped ya..?” His tone shifted to a more softer one. She nodded giving his shoulder a pat.

    “You did; I never thought I would actually hug you again. Oh.. that reminds me.” She got up, walking over to her nightstand. He floated off the ground once more so he could peer over the bed to see. She pulled out from the small cubby under the drawer of her nightstand, a cowboy hat. She held it up as she turned around to show him.

    “I still have this. I don’t know why I kept it, honestly. Guess deep down I couldn’t let a piece of you go. I did hate you for a while. I’m not sure if I can forgive you for everything. Although.. it means a lot that you apologized. Maybe one day.” She walked over, motioning for him to float up a little higher as she set the cowboy hat on his head.

  “Maybe we could be friends again, some day. I’m not sure. I thought this exchange was going to go a lot differently.” He gawked a little. A warm feeling hit him, as he moved his hand up and felt his hat.

        'Be friends again? Is she serious? Why doesn’t she hate me. It’s okay if she hates me, I’m used to people hating me. She kept my hat, though. I just gave it to her as a sign of peace. Even if I was still a little mad. Did she really care about me, then?’  What she told him seemed impossible. He felt like life was just fucking with him again. There’s no way she would ever forgive him he just didn’t deserve anything good. As if sensing sort of what he was thinking, she poked his nose.

    “Listen, I’m not a shrink either. However I think you have a problem with self esteem. I can’t fix that right now. I meant what I said to you. I do appreciate what you said to me, how you tried comforting me. I would’ve liked if you didn’t toss all my shit everywhere when you got here though.” She looked around the room, putting her hands on her hips as she sighed.

   "You’re lucky you didn’t break my camera. It’s a family heirloom from my mom.“ Beetlejuice looked around the room, then gave a small laugh.

    "Hey you know me, Lyds; I gotta make an entrance! It feels nice to be out of the Netherworld. I had to stretch my legs.” He turned his head back to grin at her. There was a worm she hadn’t noticed before wiggling in-between his teeth and she stuck her tongue out. There’s that weird, gross charm of his. She flicked his forehead causing him to scowl. He rubbed where she snapped her fingers against his clam-y flesh. She motioned to her room when his attention was drawn back to her.

   "I know you can bend reality or whatever it is your demon powers do. Please clean my room, I don’t feel like doing it because I’m tired.“ Lydia politely requested. Beetlejuice groaned yet didn’t complain as with a flick of his wrists. Everything began to move back into place. The curtains were no longer fire-damaged, her clothes went back neatly into her dresser and her books were slid neatly into the shelves. Even the random bones he conjured up were gone. She gave him a pleased smile along with a thumbs up. He flipped her off which just made her laugh. He couldn’t help but join her in her laugh. He tipped his hat to her then looked towards the window a moment later.

   ”..so, that all you needed, kid? Guess… we part ways again?“ He looked back to her a tinge of sadness edged at the end of his words. She rubbed her arm as she looked towards the window as well. She walked around him and the bed, then opened the curtains to see it was raining now.

       "I guess so. You did say you wanted to get away from here, right?” She looked over her shoulder at him. He pursed his lips then tapped his fingers against his chin.

   "Yeah that was the deal. I hear you out, then be on my way..“ He sighed then floated over towards her and the window. He placed a hand on the glass, staring off into the distance. She still wasn’t sure how to feel about him yet she knew she wasn’t really scared of him. Even though he was acting off for how he normally was. Maybe he wanted closure as much as she did? He  couldn’t come back on his own before so she hoped this was good for him. She playfully nudged him with her elbow.

   "I mean; even though you probably shouldn’t show yourself around the house. I wouldn’t mind if you came back to my room some times. If you wanna try to build up trust again or something. If you don’t hate me. It’s kind of nice having someone I can weirdly relate to that isn’t a parental figure. Someone I can talk to about this.” He looked over to her then scratched his head.

   "I don’t know. Pretty sure everyone would hate it if they saw-wait. Did you summon me without telling anyone about it?“ He slowly became aware of the very lack of parental supervision as he peered over to her bedroom door. There was no way the Maitlands nor her parents would’ve let him near her without them being around. She inhaled sharply, staring a little bug-eyed down at the ground while pressing her lips together. Shit.

       "Uh.. maybe.” She mumbled. He looked to her. Then let out a bellowing laughter, slapping her hard on the back.

   "Well! Look at you, you little rebel! Ahhhh shit. Part of me feels like messing with the Maitlands again. Unfortunately for me they probably would try to send me back to the Netherworld.“ He grimaced then looked back to the window. "I’m not so sure if it would be safe to keep coming back here. However, other breathers are usually boring as hell. You were pretty fun. As long as the others don’t find out I guess I wouldn’t mind stopping in every so often. Maybe we could even scare together again.” His eyes flashed a mischievous glow as he gave her an malevolent smirk. She gave him an wicked smile back.

   "I probably am gonna have to tell them about you eventually. It’s kind of hard to hide all this.“ She motioned to him knowing how much of a show off he could be. He nodded.

   "Eh it’s true; we’ll just cross that bridge when we get to it.” He stretched out a little. Taking the cowboy hat off he slapped it onto her head. She stumbled a little, giving him a small scowl.

  “Well how about you hold onto this, lil scarecrow. So I have a reason to come back. Now if you’ll excuse me. I wanna go stretch my legs and scare the shit out of some Karen in her forties while she’s kicking back, sipping on her wine box.” He grinned while ringing his dirty hands together.

 "I’ll be back later, Lyds!“ He cackled, then dashed off, phasing through her wall and disappearing into the stormy night. She placed her hand on the window, staring off at nothing now as she fixed the hat on her head.

   "See you soon, Dorothy.” She decided it was finally time for that nap.

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

Little Miss Fortune AU edited with new hero name for Marinette

Summary: In which Marinette is caught in a bit of a predicament Felix/Marinette/Adrien Felinette Adrienette

--------------------

Marinette groaned as she tightened the black tie around her neck, making sure her breasts were hidden under the black suit blazer and white dress shirt, before tucking in the male model she knocked out accidentally on his dressing room couch. She didn’t mean to knock him down the stairs, but she figured her usual bad luck had something to do with it, and hurried into changing into his attire.

She exited the room, looking around cautiously, as she ran a hand through her now pixie cut hairstyle. She hadn’t wanted to cut her hair, but to get Plagg back, it was worth it.

Hawkmoth had stolen her Miraculous successfully, and without any partner to rely on, she was left on her own to chase him down and get Plagg back. She narrowed it down to Hawkmoth being a part of Agreste industries, but she had no clue of exactly where in the company he could be.

Her first objective was to locate where Hawkmoth was in the company, but without any more clues, she was left with no choice but to sneak in. She had successfully made it to the stairway when a model startled her, causing her to flail and accidentally slap him in the face so hard he fell down a flight of stairs.

Cursing that she was stuck with bad luck even without Plagg with her, she hurriedly dragged the unconscious model to his dressing room and, noting he had the same hair color and features, she quickly donned on his black suit and cut her hair to appear like him.

Sneaking down the hallway, Marinette’s mission was to find a directory where all the departments were accessible and told herself she would start there.

However, it seemed like her bad luck wasn’t through with her yet…

“Monsieur Cho! What are you doing? The set is this way!” A woman with glasses and dressed professionally approached her. She looked around confused, before realizing that she was supposed to be ‘Monsieur Cho’ and tried to escape before the woman grabbed her by her arm and steering her towards the opposite end of the hallway. Marinette panicked.

“Oh! Um! I have to go to the bathroom!” Marinette cried. The woman’s glasses gleamed.

“Yes, and I’m sure by magical coincidence you’ll end up instead seeing one of the female models in the nearest broom closet like the last three times you’ve used that excuse.” She commented sternly. Marinette gulped.

‘Scary!’ Marinette thought sweating.

“But I really have to go this time…” Marinette protested weakly. The woman raised an eyebrow and tugged Marinette to the photoshoot by her ear making the girl squeak.

Defeated, Marinette tried to quell her nervousness as the woman dragged her to what appeared to be a photoshoot. Her heart pounded as she eyed all the people around and if she was transformed, her ribbon tail would be in between her legs.

“Now this shoot is very important. You will be working directly with Monsieur Agreste’s sons. If you mess this up with more of your playboy antics, Monsieur Agreste will be sure to make sure you don’t have an opportunity like this again, Monsieur Cho. Am I clear?” The woman directed her frosty gaze to Marinette, who flinched and nodded rapidly. Of course, the person she’s pretending to be would have a bad reputation…

“Y-yes ma’am!” Marinette squeaked. Satisfied, the woman released her, and Marinette was seized by the make-up crew who started the finishing touches on her look. She figured she would be doing a formal shoot with the outfit she was wearing. The girl fidgeted as the team fiddled with her suit, not used to people being that close in her personal space without knowing them well. Alya would probably be laughing now if she knew how much trouble Marinette’s bad luck got her into this time.

‘Okay! I can do this! I just have to find some way to sneak away before I get pictures taken of me! This set’s big enough—no one will notice me slip away!’ Marinette resolved, determined to flee as soon as the make-up team released her. Once the team was done, Marinette bolted out of the curtains and promptly slammed into another body. ‘Shit! Oh well, I can still sneak away after I say sorry.’

“Oh, it’s you, Cho. Are you done wasting our time with your escapades?” a bored voice commented. Marinette looked up to meet icy green eyes. The boy had neat blonde hair and was wearing a suit similar to hers. When he got a better look of her, however, his eyes widened. “Who are you? You’re not Cho.”

‘Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’

“U-um! Hello! I guess we haven’t seen each other in a while because I am very much—”

“I just saw you three hours ago when you left to go flirt with Bridgette.” The boy cut her off, eyes narrowing. Marinette squeaked as he got near to her face, examining her. “You look too feminine to be Cho. He may be effeminate but you’re practically a girl with your features.”

“Uhhhh”

“Felix! Cho! There you guys are!” another boy their age approached them with the same golden sunshine hair and vibrant green eyes that reminded Marinette of summer grass in an open field. The first boy, Felix, turned to address his look-a-like.

“Adrien, this isn’t—”

“Everyone on set! We’re going to start the shoot!” the photographer called. Marinette squeaked as people began to go to their places. She took a couple steps back, wanting to run and hide, but Adrien noticed her fearful stance.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Marinette jumped.

“I… I never done this before.” Marinette whispered. “I want to leave.”

“I heard this was your first real shoot.” Adrien remarked. He gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s scary the first time, but it’s like you’re playing pretend. You just follow what the photographer tells you and you act like you’re playing a part in a play.” He touched her shoulder reassuringly and Marinette felt her heart skip a beat. “The first time I did this was when I was a kid. I used to be really scared of the camera, but my mother helped me be able to add my own style to being photographed. After that, I didn’t find it as scary anymore—it was more like a game I’m playing.” Adrien explained. Marinette returned his smile, his sincere speech soothing to her nerves. It was a shame she was pretending to be someone else. Adrien seemed like a good person who would make a wonderful friend.

“I see. Your mother sounds very kind and fun.” Marinette smiled, and Adrien was struck by how pretty it was. His cheeks turned a red hue as he coughed, hiding his face from her view.

“A-anyway! We should get to the set!” he grabbed her hand to lead her to the set, but his traitorous thoughts told him Cho’s hand was very soft and he felt his ears redden in betrayal. Felix eyed them critically as he examined their interaction from the stage. It appeared he hadn’t ratted Marinette out as everyone was acting normal like she was still Cho, so she was safe for now.

She stood in between Felix and Adrien as the photographer directed their positions. Marinette eyed the camera in dismay, as her cover will be blown when the pictures come out. She squeezed her eyes shut, fists clenched at her sides. Why was she so useless? Plagg was in trouble and here she was stuck and unable to do anything for him!

“Calm down.” Felix whispered. Marinette snapped her eyes open and turned her gaze to him in shock. The boy refused to look at her, instead choosing to face ahead towards the camera as they snapped pictures. He maneuvered himself to place a hand on her shoulder and got close to her ear. The photographer squeed at the display, not realizing Felix was actually speaking to her. “Just play pretend like Adrien said. It will be over soon enough.” Marinette’s eyes widened.

He was trying to comfort her? Even though he knew she wasn’t the actual male model? She looked between the Agreste brothers curiously, and couldn’t help a happy smile appear on her face. They were both so kind…

“Yes Cho! That smile is beautiful! Look at the friendship between you three! The chemistry is amazing! Give me more of that comrade vibe!” Adrien and Felix moved closer to her with their best smiles and the photographer ate it up like a child with a bowl of candy.

A sound of clapping interrupted the shoot, and everyone turned to see Gabriel Agreste standing beside the woman that dragged Marinette to the set earlier. He had a prideful smile on his face, but Marinette couldn’t help but shiver at the cold essence in his eyes. It didn’t match his outward appearance at all. It felt like an act.

“Excellent! I knew pairing my sons with a new upstart would come out grand.” Gabriel commented. Everyone gave him smiles, even Adrien who beamed at his father’s praise, except Felix and Marinette, the latter who felt sick at his performance. The oldest Agreste approached the three and Marinette had the urge to hide behind Adrien and Felix, but didn’t to keep up the act.

Gabriel’s frosty eyes locked onto her and Marinette gulped. Gabriel kept his smile in place, but Marinette felt like she was drowning in freezing water. She barely registered Felix moving closer to her, as if sensing her unease. Gabriel didn’t seem to notice as he placed a hand on her shoulder. The gleam of the Black Cat Miraculous shinning from his finger. Marinette held in a gasp, eyes widening at the realization she didn’t want to accept rearing its ugly head in her face.

“My boy, you will have a bright future with this company. I’m sure of it.” Gabriel praised her. Marinette resisted the urge to squirm under his hold. She tried to keep herself from staring at her Miraculous on his finger. The Miraculous that was rightfully hers. She could feel Plagg’s energy thrumming through her veins from being close to her ring.

‘You thief!’ Marinette snarled in her mind. She wanted to kick, scream, and bite him like a vicious animal. She could feel Plagg’s sadness at being taken away from her. His hatred for being trapped with Gabriel—Hawkmoth—and her fury ignited like an inferno. ‘That’s mine! You stole it from me!’

Nonetheless, she did not reveal her righteous fury. She had come this far—she would not fail Plagg.

“Thank you, Monsieur!” Marinette thanked him with a sweet smile, biting her cheek to resist spitting on his pristine suit. “I look forward to learning under your guidance and becoming even more miraculous.” She felt Plagg’s energy warm at her proximity. Excitement ran through her veins at the prospect of wielding him again and putting an end to Hawkmoth.

A flicker of suspicion sparked into Gabriel’s eyes before he smiled down at her again. Suspicion, and dare Marinette say it, fear making Marinette want to purr. Good. He should be afraid. She would not allow Plagg’s kidnapping to go unpunished. He let go of her shoulder, and Marinette hoped the brief contact was able to soothe her kwami that she wasn’t abandoning him.

Gabriel retreated with his assistant and Marinette narrowed her eyes, intent to follow them. The photographer called everyone to take this places as Gabriel was leaving. Marinette’s eyes widened. She couldn’t let Gabriel get away with Plagg!

Suddenly, she felt someone discreetly push her to the ground, her face hitting the floor hard. People cried out in concern at her fall, but she was too consumed with the loss of Plagg to care. She didn’t register anything but Plagg’s desperation to get away until she felt someone grabbed her by the arm and another hand settling on her back to steady her until she heard a voice.

“We’re going to take Cho to get checked out by the nurse before we continue.” Felix’s voice rang out. He was the one holding her arm and leading her away.

“Yeah. That fall was pretty harsh. I’ll go too to help him.” Adrien added, and Marinette felt his warm hand on her back. They led her away from the commotion and into a private hallway. Felix released her, and Adrien steadied her.

“What was that?” Marinette choked out, wanting to cry at the realization that she might not be able to save Plagg after all. Felix crossed his arms while Adrien looked concerned.

“We should be asking you the same thing.” Felix said. “You looked at our father like you wanted to claw his eyes out.”

“Did Father do something to you, Cho?” Adrien asked, touching her arm. “I know Father isn’t the best person to get along with, but the way you looked at each other was like you were ready to enter into battle with each other.”

‘That’s because we are.’ Marinette thought wryly. She sighed and ran a hand through her now short hair, wishing she had the familiarity of her pigtails to soothe her. “I… I’m not Cho.”

Felix and Adrien looked at her curiously and in shock. Felix didn’t think she was going to reveal herself and Adrien because if this person wasn’t Cho, then who were they?

“Your father… he has something of mine.” Marinette couldn’t bring herself to tell them he was Hawkmoth. She didn’t want to be responsible for bringing them into her fight—her war. “I… it’s really important to me. I need it back.”

“Well we can ask Father to give it back to you.” Adrien promised, not one to believe that his father was capable of stealing, despite the rocky relationship they have. Felix on the other hand knew his father wasn’t a saint for the way he neglects them. Marinette shook her head.

“It’s not that simple. I’ve tried… he refuses.” Marinette clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms at the memory of losing Plagg. It was like a part of her soul was ripped away from her. She knew her and Plagg would sometimes clash, or sometimes he would encourage her to do things that weren’t exactly for a model hero, but she knew that Plagg cherished her and she cherished him. She loved the times they had, through better or for worse. Hell, she’d take every ounce of bad luck that Plagg would accidentally project onto her if it meant she could be with him again.

“We’ll get it back then.” Adrien vowed determined. Marinette’s eyes widened at his willingness to help her. He took her hands into his and squeezed them in comfort “It’s important to you. And Father has no right to refuse you something that rightfully belongs to you.”  He told her. He stroked her hands, willing his presence to soothe her. Marinette smiled, and Adrien’s heart skipped at beat.

“Before we do this, what’s your name?” Felix asked, staring straight into her soul. “Since you’re not Cho, we have a right to know who you really are.”

“I…” Marinette bit her lip, debating on what to tell them. Should she reveal her name? Her superhero name? Should she give them an alias? Somehow though, it didn’t seem right to lie. They were willing to get themselves in trouble with Hawkmoth, despite not knowing who their father really was. She had to return the favor.

“I’m Marinette.” She spoke quietly, as if afraid if she spoke louder she would shatter the fragile alliance they shared. Adrien’s eyes widened as he quickly let go of her hands, blushing like a Christmas light. Felix also had a surprised look on his face, and Marinette wasn’t sure if she saw a red flush on his cheeks or not because he quickly looked away.

“Y-You’re a girl?” Adrien spluttered. Marinette giggled and gave a wink.

“Yup! I make a good boy though, no?” she teased, striking a pose and Adrien and Felix—though he would never admit it—blushed harder.

‘It should be illegal to be that cute in a suit!’

“Alright then, Marinette.” Felix coughed, being the first to recover. “What is it that we’re looking for?” Marinette had a determined look on her face.

“The ring he’s wearing. It’s mine.” She answered.

“Father said he got it from an antique shop.” Adrien supplied. Marinette hissed, and her eyes narrowed.

“He’s a liar. He got it from me.” Adrien however wasn’t afraid of her.

‘Is it possible to find someone attractive even when they’re angry at your father?’ he thought.

“So how do we get it back?” Felix asked. Marinette smirked, and Felix ignored that damn skip in his heartbeat.

“Follow my lead.”

------------------------------

It turned out that Gabriel didn’t wear the ring all the time. He kept it secured in his office and Adrien and Felix were able to distract him with the real unconscious Cho. She crept into the office, the Black Cat Miraculous calling out to her. In his haste, like she predicted, Gabriel did not put on her Miraculous to keep close to him. She grinned in excitement, slipping the ring onto its rightful owner, and Plagg burst to life once more. They both purred in happiness as they reunited, Plagg nuzzling her cheek.

“Please tell me you have some fresh cheese danishes at home.” Plagg begged. Marinette chuckled. “Anything for you, kitty.” She promised. Plagg purred in satisfaction.

“Plagg! Claws Out!” she shouted, and felt the familiar sensation of being transformed once more. She could feel her body vibrating with a violent purr all over her body, but didn’t care. She was so happy to have her Miraculous back.

“Let’s go home.”

She burst out of the office and skidded to a stop as she came face to face with Adrien and Felix, who were watching her with wide eyes—Felix’s was with shock and Adrien’s was with awe.

“Cheshire!” Adrien exclaimed, his eyes sparkling in excitement. Felix also watched her with interest.

“Um! Hello Citizens! I heard some imposter was running around at your photoshoot and I came to help!” Cheshire lied, her heart pounding a mile a minute. She wanted to reveal herself but she knew it would be too dangerous. This was her war, and hers alone. Despite the kindness they showed her, she knew she would never see them again. She then proceeded to run down the hallway. “I’ll be gone now! The imposter has made her escape, so I have to follow her! Au revoir!”

--------------------

Felix and Adrien watched their father storm around, demanding to know how everyone didn’t notice an imposter was running around so easily. Meanwhile, the photographer sobbed at his camera being destroyed by some unforeseen force, as it laid in a pile of ashes at his feet. The twins chanced a look at each other.

“It’s a shame we don’t have a photo to remember her by.” Adrien commented. Felix chose not to comment, but he noticed the atmosphere seemed distinctly dimmer without Marinette around.

“I’m sure we can find a way to make more.” Felix replied, and Adrien raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk beginning to birth on his face, catching the meaning behind his brother’s statement.

“I wouldn’t mind making more memories with Marinette either.”

---------------------

It was Monday again and Marinette groaned at having to walk up early for classes. She stretched in her seat, knowing that she would no doubt be seduced into taking a cat nap when lectures start. Alya laughed beside her.

“Rough weekend?” she asked. Marinette smiled softly. “Love the hair, by the way.”

“Thanks. And you could say that. Made some friends.”

“Really? Maybe you should introduce us sometime. Were they cute?” Alya asked. Marinette laughed.

“Very handsome, but I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again.” Marinette said, sadness in her eyes. Alya seemed to have seen the unshed tears and hugged her friend.

“Hey, it maybe only once, but you’ll have those memories forever, and that is proof of your friendship and the precious time you guys had.” Alya soothed. Marinette grinned, wiping her tears.

“You’re right! They’ll always be with me forever, even if we don’t see each other again.” Marinette laughed. And it was true—she would never forget Adrien and Felix’s kindness towards her. “I’m just a little sad I never got to say goodbye.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing.” Alya responded, “Then that means you are never truly gone to them.”

“Yeah.” Marinette gave her warmest smile, and Alya hugged her once more. She hoped that Felix and Adrien were happy, and that they had done something truly courageous by aiding her in getting her Miraculous back. She felt Plagg’s warmth through their bond, and breathed a sigh of relief that he will never be parted from her again. She’ll beat Gabriel Agreste and bring him to justice no matter what.

Maybe then she will be able to tell Felix and Adrien thank you for all they done.

“Class, settle down.” The teacher commanded, and each student gave her their attention. Mademoiselle Bustier smiled at her students and gestured to the door. “Today we have two new students. Now, I know you may know them from magazines and social media but please don’t overwhelm them with your excitement. Come in, boys.”

The door opened, and gasps and squeals were made when they saw who the two new students were, but Marinette gave a squeak and fell out of her seat. Two pairs of green eyes—one warm and one cool—had a twinkle of amusement spark in them at her display.    

“Girl, you okay?” Alya helped her up. Marinette didn’t answer as she could only gape as Adrien and Felix introduced themselves to the class. Was this really happening?

“Maybe she got struck by cupid’s arrow.” Nino whispered, snickering. Alya swatted him away with a smile.

“The reason we came here was because we wanted to be with our best friend.” Adrien told the class, who were listening attentively. Chloe preened, thinking they obviously meant her as she was childhood friends with them, but Adrien’s eyes practically shined, and his grin widened when he caught eyes with Marinette. “There she is! Marinette, it’s so good to see you again!” Adrien announced, and the entire room gaped at her. Marinette wanted to sink into a hole. Her face was bright red from embarrassment.

‘They can’t be serious! This possibly can’t get any worse!’

“Hey, move. We’re sitting here.” Felix told Alya, who gave them a raised eyebrow like they grew three heads each.

“Um Monsieur Agreste, the seats are only meant for two people at a time.” Mademoiselle Bustier told them, confused. Felix shrugged, and Adrien waved it off, grinning.

“That’s okay! We’ll just sit extra close to all fit!”

Marinette sunk lower in her seat, covering her face as she felt Plagg cackle in her purse.