#urge to draw acts up when i try to focus in class

[sargehev]

Brig

I doodled instead of paying attention in class orz

[dawbi]

hi i was wondering if you could do what it’d be like to be in a love triangle with midoriya and bakugou? i really liked the one you wrote with todoroki 👉👈

PART 1

nonnie, i— you almost got me to write a fic i am not joking 🙃 but i fought the urge and followed the format of the todoroki one !! sorry this is so late :,((

warnings - none !!

phase 1 - the tres amigos but one of them is an asshole

i picture you three would be childhood friends. you and midoriya are next door neighbors that walk to school together everyday and bakugou would be the kid everyone thought was fun and cool. somehow, your worlds collide and you're seen together everywhere. "can i try your ice cream, bakugou?" "ew no! get your own!" the blonde guards his popsicle with his life lol. "don't worry y/n. you can try mine!" midoriya says as he hands you his. bakugou would scowl and change his mind. "mine is better, try it!" that's how it'd always be with izuku and katsuki. the competition for your attention and for who's the better friend. then before they know it, the first feelings of wanting to hold your hand and protect you. oh no, it's a crush. midoriya would act the same way around you, being a young kid gives him less worries about what you think of him romantically. bakugou on the other hand, is the typical elementary school boy that picks on the person he likes. "y/n, that backpack is lame!" annoyingly throws eraser shavings at you in class and calls you gross when another classmate asks if he likes you. feelings of jealousy haven't blossomed yet but showing off is definitely there. "hey kacchan! you wanna play ball with me?" izuku is all smiles and offering a ball to bakugou. "go away, deku!" and as soon as bakugou is about to walk away, your voice appears. "hi guys! what are you doing?" katsuki does a whole 180 and takes the ball from midoriya. all of a sudden he's doing tricks. all of a sudden he wants to play 🤨

phase 2 - izuku has to deal with katsuki’s jealousy

now middle school changes a lot of people. phases start and end, emotions and hormones evolve, and lessons on friendship and love begin. in this case, bakugou finds himself a new group of friends and the friendship between him and izuku is no longer. you don't know how it happened. it felt like you were all friends just yesterday. midoriya mostly keeps to himself but, he'll talk to your friends once in awhile. you still spend most of your time hanging out and trying to survive the new environment. izuku being quirkless makes him a target to many people but you always have his back and he always has yours. "whatcha writing there, izuku?" you ask midoriya as he sits alone at the lunch table. he quickly hides the notebook. "n-nothing!" you raise a brow and tell him "if it's an all might fanfic, no judgement here." midoriya awkwardly laughs. "you promise you won't laugh if i show you?" "come on. i'm your best friend." you prepare yourself for some all might literature but you see notes covering the page. "what's this?" you ask. "notes on different quirks. i think it's...cool." midoriya shyly plays with his hands while looking down. you flip through the pages and everything is so neat and thought out. "wow. i like it." midoriya looks up at you and silently admires you as you read through his notebook. he feels fluffy inside and doesn't focus on the fact that there's a page on you and your quirk. you come across it and "is this mine?" izuku snaps out of his trance. yes it is your page. but there's a drawing of a heart with his initial + yours on that same page. "yesbutitsnotdoneyet!" he quickly closes the notebook and is blushing tremendously omg help him. luckily for him, you think it's someone in your math class as you had seen them talk before. with bakugou, he's relatively mean to you but less than midoriya. he throws insults here and there and will sometimes bump into you. katsuki wants to distance himself from you and his feelings for you. yet he can't help being there for you even if it's behind the scenes. if someone ever tries messing with you, he'll deal with them later without you ever knowing.

phase 3 - the revelation

a few years pass and a new dynamic is approaching. aspirations are rampant and romantic feelings have matured and grown even stronger. even the three of you have quirks now. it saddens you to see the friends you grew up with so distant and polarized. the tension and aggression increases whenever you're around and you have no idea and neither does midoriya. only bakugou knows. he always loves having the upper hand in situations but not this one. why? he and his childhood friend are in love with their other childhood friend. what does only him knowing do? nothing. absolutely nothing. to be completely honest, bakugou is a rather fearless guy but you on the other hand, make him feel nervous. at times he struggles maintaining eye contact whenever you compliment him and his heart races whenever your nearby. so, he’s not confessing anytime soon and inside he knows midoriya would have the balls to confess to you. It's awkward between you guys now but you don’t know why. there are times when you catch midoriya sneaking glances at you but you don't think much of it. bakugou remains cold and distant but always comes to your rescue. again, you don't think much of it. the other ua students notice the tension between you 3 but, don't wanna get involved. i don't blame them 💀 there would come a time until bakugou finally knows what he wants. and that's you. it'd take him some time to finally accept the fact that you make him feel this way. the guy does worry that you're closer to izuku more than him. for that reason, he needs to start getting closer to you again. so, he'd make sure midoriya and him were the last two in the room. “oi, deku.” midoriya's body would stiffen, anticipating an altercation of some kind. "y-yeah?" "i like y/n the same way you do.” izuku is speechless. where is this coming from all of a sudden? “thought i should let you know...” bakugou pauses and looks to midoriya’s side. “i'm not gonna hold back." the blond-haired boy walks off with his hands in his pockets. nonchalantly. midoriya is frozen still. this changes everything.

a/n : this is just the first part cuz it got so long lol sorry ,, i might finish the second part after i finish writing my other wip 💓💓

[littlemissnoname13]

Hello can I request where draco in fourth year having a crush on a hufflepuff reader but acts as arsehole cuz he doesn’t know how to show affection , leading it to her avoiding him which makes him depressed about what did he do wrong ?

Hi love. Thanks for the request.💕

I love writing Draco x hufflepuff!reader stories! I am a sucker for a slytherin x hufflepuff pairing.

I added a few extra details here and here. Hope you like it. X

Hopeful (Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader)

Word count: 2100 sorry got a bit carried away. 😅

Warnings: None. Soft!Draco being an absolute blubbering idiot.

Draco’s thoughts are written in green

Spring had arrived. 

It could be felt in the cool and gentle zephyr that made the shiny new leaves on top of the once barren and dead trees rustle. 

Daisies were in full bloom and the wind had managed to carry some of the petals away—making them fall to the ground, acting like a harbinger of the fast approaching summer. 

Draco couldn’t be bothered if it was spring, or autumn or winter. 

In that particular moment, all he wanted to do was get away from the Slytherin common room and Pansy Parkinson. 

He had taken her to the Yule ball and things had sort of fizzled out afterwards. He couldn’t get himself to see her as anything other than a friend. 

Having ran all the way to a far and secluded area of the Hogwarts grounds, Draco leaned against a tree trunk and panted heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. 

“Are you—are you alright?” 

Your voice startled him and he quickly stood up straight to look around. 

You were sitting criss-crossed on the grass with your transfigurations textbook opened on your lap. Your shirt sleeves were rolled up and your yellow and black tie hugged very loosely around your neck. 

“Fine.” He muttered as he slowly sat down noticing a single daisy tucked behind your ears. 

After sitting there in complete silence for the next few minutes, he finally spoke up. 

“What are you even doing here anyway?” 

“Just wanted some peace and quiet to be honest.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s a beautiful day.” 

Draco just hummed in response and kept staring at the daisy in your hair that swayed lightly with the breeze. 

“What?” You asked when you noticed. 

“You have—you have a twig stuck in your hair.” 

“A daisy.” You corrected him as you closed your book and moved a bit closer to where he was sitting. “It’s a daisy.” 

“Yeah I know that. I’m not stupid.” He said quickly. “But why?” 

"Well, Daisies are essentially two flowers blended together in complete harmony." You said pulling the daisy out of your free falling hair before putting your hand forward to hand it to him. 

“And?” Draco reluctantly took the flower from you and blinked his eyes in confusion. 

“They are said to resemble innocence—true love even.”  You explained getting comfortable next to him.

“You believe in all that?” Draco scoffed, twirling the flower between his index finger and thumb. He couldn’t tell if the floral fragrance was coming from you or the air but it made him slightly queasy nonetheless. 

“Merlin. No.” You scrunched up your nose. “It just gives me hope I guess.” 

Draco gave you another hum in response. For someone who came up with snarky and sometimes witty comments on the spot, he found himself weirdly tongue tied. 

“I know you were hiding from Pansy by the way.” You remarked, making a small smile pull at his lips. 

“How come?”

“What do you mean how come?” You rolled your eyes. “Everyone can see that she is obsessed with you for some reason that I personally can't seem to comprehend.” 

~~~~~

The next day during potions class, Draco slowly opened his book and started to absently doodle on it with his quill while Snape talked about the upcoming potions essay that had to be done in pairs. 

Draco knew he should be paying attention but he just couldn’t get the interaction between you two out of his head. 

And just when he took a deep breath and decided to focus, a familiar scent started to fill his lungs up. 

Fruity, almost spicy notes of strawberry and pink grapefruit mixed with gardenias, vanilla and musk. It felt like someone had tossed a huge bouquet into the room. 

He knew it was you without even bothering to look up from my book. 

"Ah, Miss y/l/n. Late again." Snape muttered. “Five points from Hufflepuff house.” 

You quietly sat down next to your friend with your head hung low and Draco fought an unexplainable urge to give you a hug. 

"The essay must be done in pairs.." Snape said.

Great. 

"Ronald Weasley and Gregory Goyle." 

This is exactly what I needed right now. Thanks Snape. 

"Blaise Zabini and Hannah Abott." 

The last thing I need is someone weighing my essay down. 

"Draco Malfoy and y/n y/l/n." 

What? 

You turned back to look at Draco and gave him  an apologetic smile and he didn't understand why you kept smiling at him. It's not like the both of you had suddenly formed an unlikely bond with each other. 

Draco scowled at you in return and quickly raised his hand. "May I work on my essay alone?" 

"No. You may not Mr. Malfoy."

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

You and Draco had been studying in the library for almost an hour. Because you were quietly sitting next to him, his elbows and knees slightly brushed yours every few seconds and as much as he hated to admit it, He secretly enjoyed it. 

Contrary to yesterday, Draco was trying very hard to make a conversation with you. You seemed somewhat offended that he had asked Snape to work on the essay alone. 

“I am happy to do most of the writing if you can look up all the ingredients.” You offered.

You don’t have to do all of that yourself. I am happy to help with the writing too. Is what he should have said. 

“Fine whatever.” He said instead as he reached for a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. 

That night, Draco stayed up tossing and turning in his bed before giving up on getting any sleep for the night. 

He lethargically walked towards his dresser and put his hands in his blazer pocket pulling out the now dried and pressed daisy from the other day. 

Taking a deep breath, he put the flower in between the pages of his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. 

You were drawing him in, undoing him, unraveling him even. 

He knew that. 

But did you?

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

"Draco! Open up." 

His head jolted towards the door and He quickly walked over to open it. 

You stood on the other end with books tucked in your arms, wearing your denim shorts and a plain white tank top—looking like summer personified. 

The more time he spent with you, the more he started to notice your quirks. Like that the way your skin glowed as the days got warmer. 

Compliment her. Do it. It’s not Difficult. 

“Did you do something different to your hair?” 

“Uh—no why are you asking.” 

“It just looks a bit strange.” He commented wanting to slap himself. 

"Okay, well are you going to let me in?" You questioned, wondering why he was blocking the way and asking you about your hair. 

Why did you have to wear that God damned tank top-

"Sorry?" You asked stepping inside making his cheeks burn when he realized he wasn’t meaning to say that out loud. 

"Just shut up and get back to working in the essay or whatever it is that you were doing." Draco grumbled feeling embarrassed as he grabbed some fresh parchment. 

Okay. Focus. The Strengthening solution requires...

You stretched a little and pushed your hair away from your face. 

several days to mature...

"Staring is rude Draco." You suddenly interrupted his thoughts as you set your eyes on his—peering right into his soul.

Draco felt like he was giving you some sort of power over him and the possibility of you using that power and leaving him heartbroken made him feel so very vulnerable.

He couldn't take the vulnerability a second longer.

 "I don't think we should study together anymore." He blurted quickly standing up. “It's for the best.”

"Huh?" You stood up contorting your face in total confusion—wondering just what you had done to piss him off. "What's wrong Draco? Did I do something wrong?" 

"Leave. Now." He muttered with his teeth clenched. 

Please don’t go.

"Just go—leave please."

You couldn’t help but feel a sharp sting burning your insides as you gathered all the books that were on the floor and ran made your way towards hufflepuff dormitories with tears threatening to flood your eyes. 

As soon as you ran off, he punched his wall and muttered out the plethora of angry curses when the impact bruised his knuckles.

~~~~~~~~~~~

During the following week, Draco failed to show up to any of your shared classes after you had refused to talk to him after what happened. 

Even if you did manage to see him walking down the halls or walking with Crabbe and Goyle, you noticed that he looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days. 

On a Tuesday, Draco looked at the Hufflepuff table during breakfast and when you caught his eye, all you did was look away. 

Everyone at school had their opinions about him—most of them weren’t good opinions. 

But when you were with him under that tree, he seemed different. His smirk was more playful than condescending. It managed to charm you in a way. 

You took a final bite of your toast and gathered all your books, walking to your Potions class. 

His seat still remained empty and you shook your head, trying to snap away from the thoughts of him as you flipped open your book. 

Only it wasn’t your book. 

You didn’t remember writing on the margins and making annotations on your book. 

Running your fingertips along the pages, you flipped to the very first page of the book. 

D. Malfoy was written in ridiculously neat handwriting and you shook your head when you realized that you had grabbed his book with you that day by mistake. 

And just when you were about to put his book away, something fell from in between the pages and fell onto your desk. 

It was the daisy you had woven into your hair the other day. Even in its dried state, the petals remained intact like her had done something to keep them that way.

When class was finally over, you made a quick beeline towards the slytherin dungeons, bumping into people along the way. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Some hufflepuff girl is standing outside the dungeons asking to see you.” Theo shrugged when he saw Draco at the common room sofa. “Says it's urgent.” 

He felt terrified yet so elated as he quickly stood up and made his way outside. 

“Here’s your book.” You said taking a step towards him. “You never told me what’s wrong by the way.” 

“Thank you.” Draco quickly took his book from you and stared at the ground. 

“Why did you stop talking to me y/n?”

“You told me to go away—If I remember correctly.” You said shaking your head at him. “Tell me Draco, what’s wrong?”

“Everything.” He said quietly, meeting your gaze. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You make me feel all weak.....and smiley...and I hate it." He looked at you with agitation.

"Weak?" You ran your  fingers through your hair in confusion. 

"And your ridiculous white tank top." Draco half yelled. 

"What's wrong with my top?" You asked, raising your voice slightly as if you had had enough of this. 

"Nothing is wrong except for the fact that you look stunning in it.” He blurted involuntarily. "It is absolutely distracting when one is trying to study!." 

He watched you open your mouth in shock and close it. Before he could spend another minute trying to solve the riddle that was your expression, you grabbed him by his tie and placed your lips on his. 

His brows furrowed as he kissed you back tenderly. Tasting the sweetness of your lips—pouring out every bit of suppressed passion and adoration he felt for you with his lips.

There was something so strange and euphoric about finally kissing someone he had been longing to kiss for so long. 

Something so magical about holding the person that fits perfectly into his arms. 

Freaking Finally. 

He was slightly disappointed when you slowly backed away, but the glow on your skin and the glossy ness in your eyes made him smile. 

"I guess I'll leave before I realize the consequences of what I have just done." You said softly as you held his face and placed a small peck on his lips.

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

The next day, you found a tiny box and an envelope on your desk when you woke up. Your roommate let you know that Draco Malfoy had stopped by late last night when you were asleep and half begged and half threatened her to leave the box on your desk. 

You slowly opened the box and found a bedazzled and whimsical looking daisy necklace, encrusted with gems.  

A Daisy for my daisy. 

You give me hope.

- D.M

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

Draco Taglist: @dracomalfoyisindahouse @dracomalfoys-wh0re @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @desiredmalfoy @dlmmdl @trainintersection @fa-me @dracoswhore007 @paulina1998 @wh0re4blaise @marrymetheonott @quacksonsssandtea @letoof @rvaldez7569 @loloo22 @emma67 @berriemalfoy @thegaudess @itchywitch33 @louweasleymalfoy @lunar0se10 @savagelysarcasticslytherin @fleursbabe @teawineaddict @thebitchybeatle @malfoyxxdraco23 @fantasyfairysworld @trashyvicks @h0ggyw0ggyh0gwarts @l0vely-lupin @linasylveon @amwitherspoon @the-bisexual-bitch

Love you all sm. (if i was unable to tag you, please look into your privacy settings)

Fell free to send me reuests. My other stories can be found here.

Join my taglist here.

- violet-Anne

[icequeenbae]

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.7k (Chapter 1)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist   >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Yay, this is happening!!! My first BaekBaёk, oml I’m gonna-

Ok. I’ll admit right off the bat that I wouldn’t be posting this any time soon without my lovely beta @baekshoney​ 🖤 She’s the person I turn to when I think there’s a million little things I could’ve done better, because that’s what I always think. I had to give myself a cut-off date to finally give up editing this 😅 So, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could share your thoughts and opinions on this too. My asks, dms and comments are places where you’re always welcome! Now, let’s get into this!

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 1. The beginning of the end 

It was all too sudden.

The words he’d said deafened you. Refusing to believe what you were hearing, you shook your head and took a step back, as if doing so could start the conversation you’d just had over. Or rewind the time and allow you to prevent the words from coming out of his mouth in the first place. But he was firm, unyielding in his stance.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It’s my fault. I should’ve known better.’

Than to start this relationship, was what he meant. That he should have avoided getting in a relationship with you altogether, and breaking up with you would’ve never become an issue.

‘Why?’ You tried to speak, but your lower lip started to tremble, silencing you at once.

This was all wrong. It couldn’t have been true, what he was saying.

He licked his lips, looking away, hands forming tight fists at his sides as he tried to recollect himself and urge his body to stay frozen on the spot.

That did not work for long – the sight of you, so small, so stunned and defeated, with tears welling in your eyes while you tried to stifle them… He couldn’t. It was stupid of him to break his act so easily, but you were too precious to him to just leave you like this.

Sighing and cursing himself out in his mind, he took a stride towards you and gathered you tightly in his arms.

‘I am sorry, Y/N,’ he continued softly, hearing you hiccup in his unexpected embrace. ‘But I have to leave. We- I should’ve stayed away from you from the start. Forgive me for being so weak.’

You sobbed at his words, shaking your head stubbornly and clinging to his broad chest as an act of desperation.

‘I can come with you!’

‘No,’ he interrupted your crazy idea. ‘I’m leaving you behind. To keep you safe.’

‘Safe from what?’ You questioned, half-annoyed now.

He kept insisting that he wished to protect you, but how was leaving you all alone ensuring your security? And why would you even consider it, when you only felt safe while with him?

‘I cannot tell you. The more you know, the more dangerous it is.’

‘Baekhyunie, please,’ you wiped the tears and grabbed onto his vest as he moved to pull away. ‘You can’t just decide this on your own!’

‘Y/N,’ he took hold of your wrists, not removing them just yet. ‘I know it’s hard, and I never wanted to hurt you like this. But there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind. I’d rather break your heart than risk your life, so it’s not really a choice.’

He looked around as if to make sure you were not being watched, and then leaned in to place a farewell kiss on your temple – his favorite spot. You sniffled, realization of the inevitable setting in.

‘Just let me go, flower,’ his voice lowered to a whisper, and you sobbed at the pet name. ‘You’ll be better off without me, I promise.’

‘No,’ you protested as he freed himself from your grasp, and took a step back. ‘No, Baekhyun, don’t leave,’ you clawed at his forearm, trying to stop him. ‘We can deal with it together, we can think of something! I don’t want to be without you,’ you whimpered sorrowfully.

He shook his head, shying away from your touch, while you desperately tried to hold him back.

But you couldn’t. He gently peeled your hands off to walk away, and you missed the pained crease between his eyebrows when he turned his back on you to escape your apartment.

‘Please, don’t do this…’ You whispered, voice breaking in anguish. Just as your heart was.

Yet, Baekhyun kept walking. Leaving you to weep in the unwelcoming emptiness of your home.

Leaving you for good.

***

Your relationship with Baekhyun started almost three years ago.

Still new to university life, you found yourself in the midst of a soap opera worth of drama when a bunch of transfer students joined all at once, some even in the same year as you. All highly attractive, they usually hung out together and spent less time than needed socializing with the outside world.

Not that you cared too much – sure, the excitement going around was making you curious, but they looked too handsome, almost to the extent that you found it intimidating. Ironically, the most intimidating you found Baekhyun. His then long dark hair with strands of red and a mullet hairstyle, the sharp green eyes, the pierced eyebrow, and the lip ring that made him look like a very attractive hooligan... The piercings turned out to be just as fake as the eye color, which did not disappoint you at all.

Funny enough, you only got to know this bad boy because he took a liking to retreating to the campus library. Hiding from all of the attention, of course. While some members of his clique actually basked in it, he preferred to disappear to the remote aisles of the quiet space and read a book, or, more likely, sleep with one on his chest. You saw him like that often, since you were stuck in there yourself – essays for different classes were piling up rapidly. As a diligent student, you were determined to do well in your first year of university, so dragging yourself to the library to stay glued to your laptop was the best option.

Coincidentally, you also preferred to stay in the less lively spaces, as you tended to seek peace and quiet to focus on your assignments. Your attention span… wasn’t impressive, to say the least, so you did your best to avoid any distractions. However, you didn’t count on a certain sleep lover to be one of them.

It was not the first day you spent close enough to notice the tranquil expression he wore on his face as he was snoozing. It was, however, the first time he caught you staring mindlessly in his direction. Burning the deepest shade of red in your cheeks, you grabbed your books and quickly made yourself scarce, thanking heavens for the multiple aisles of books around. You walked around for ten minutes or so, actually placing your books back where they belonged and finding a secluded corner to check out what else was on the shelves. Squinting, you tried to read the name of the tome that had gotten your attention, and raised your arm to get it from the level that was clearly too high for you. Thankfully, someone reached over your head and helped you obtain the book. You turned around to say thank you but instead were suddenly pushed back into the shelf by the taller figure with neat red strands. Speechless, you only held your book close and gaped at him, as he leaned forward.

‘Ever heard about the cat killed by curiosity?’ He hummed, eyes piercing you from above.

You swallowed, knees getting weaker as you registered the fresh musky smell coming off of his brightly colored shirt.

To push your buttons, he decided to get even more scandalously close to you, arm holding onto the rack behind you to keep balance.

‘Nothing wrong with being curious!’ You jabbered. ‘In fact, if people preserved the curiosity they have as kids they would’ve had a much bigger learning capacity as adults.’

He huffed. You weren’t sure if he was shocked or amused, because your eyes looked anywhere but his face. In fact, they lowered enough to fix on your forearm, resting across his rib cage, and your fist pressing slightly into his pec to keep him at least at a minimal distance.

At this you gasped, eyes widening and returning to his face, only to catch an inquisitive spark in his retinas as he nudged the lip ring with his tongue. Sighing, he took a step back, finally allowing some space between you.

‘Can’t write a philosophy essay with this, little flower,’ he chuckled. ‘Or if you can… I’d be impressed.’

You looked down in confusion, understanding that the book you were holding was from a Botanics section. ‘The Oxford Book of Wild Flowers’, read the title.

But… How did he know about your philosophy assignment?

***

Only later had Baekhyun confessed that he had had an eye on you for a while by the time this incident took place, but the moment of your outburst was what got to him. When he looked down at your cornered form, holding a book to your chest so innocently, and keeping him away instinctively with one arm. He had to bite his tongue to prevent a smile from making its way onto his face. That was it for him, and even though he wanted to avoid you and keep interactions with you to an absolute minimum, he couldn’t help but find ways to draw your attention. Like that one time, when you walked out of the library because the loud noises from the outside made your concentration for the night crumble.

The source of that noise was, in fact, a certain convertible, blasting the music for the entire campus to hear. You would have come up to complain that your studying was cut short if you didn’t have perfect eyesight. It allowed you to see that there was a red-haired problem sat in the car, with a bare foot resting lazily against the panel. Ready to run the other way, you turned around, meeting a solid chest with your forehead. You discovered that it was a rather cheerful guy in the same year as you, Jongin, and the other one with him was Sehun. And those two stalled you long enough for Baekhyun to make an entrance.

It was the first time he tried asking you out. And got rejected.

However, as much as you wanted to take ownership of that and say that you were playing hard to get when you walked off and left him stunned by your refusal, that was not the case. This guy made your throat go dry at the mere sight of him! He was way too handsome, and he also looked kind of… well, he looked like he’d break your heart without thinking twice about it. And that you couldn’t allow.

But then again, good girls do tend to fall for bad boys. Or was he only pretending to be bad? You’d never heard anything that discredited him, except for the way he stared people down sometimes. That once happened to a fellow student in your class. After he sat next to you during lunch.

Actually, almost the entire week following that incident you had lunch alone because everyone kept making excuses to sit elsewhere. That was how you became friends with Jongin and Sehun. Having had a few classes together, you were more or less acquainted with each other, so you didn’t mind when Jongin suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a tray and asked you if they could join. He even had lunch with you when Sehun wasn’t around – you figured that it made Jongin even more chatty. So much so, that one day he leaned across the table to get slightly closer, and used his most clandestine voice on you.

‘You know, hyung could burn a hole in anyone next to you with his glare, but I’m immune to his ‘charms’, thankfully,’ he giggled and added, ‘Still, I think you should give him a chance. Baekhyun’s a good guy, and he’s kinda torn as it is. Asking you out was a pretty big step for him.’

Honestly, you had a hard time believing that. Baekhyun… was probably the kind of guy, who never even had to ask. You could look around and easily spot a dozen eyes that were fixed on him at this very moment. Why in the world would he want to date you, clearly not the ‘easy-going’ party type? He probably wanted to get into your pants just for sport, like the rest of the pretty boys.

‘Whatever you’re thinking, it’s far from the truth. Ugh, Junmyeon will kill me for this!’ Jongin cursed himself and continued, before you could ask. ‘Hyung looks rough around the edges, but he’s really a softie. Trust me on this.’

‘Are you his wingman or something?’ You snorted dubiously, getting a little timid from this discussion.

‘Ha, are you kidding? He’s gonna strangle me if he finds out. Like I said, he’s torn between staying away from you and persisting in his efforts to take you out. Just think about it,’ he ended with an attempted (but failed) wink.

As if to take away your chance to process the unexpected input, Jongin shoved Baekhyun in your direction the very next day. Disappearing from the cafeteria right after, of course. Envy his subtlety. But, apparently, what he said earlier had an effect, so you only nodded when a flustered figure asked for permission to sit with you. He looked quite different from the previous times you saw him up close – much less confident and intimidating. But he seemed sincere when he said he just wanted one chance.

And that was how your relationship picked up. It took a whirlwind course from the very beginning, and the hot summer before your second year of university was the most torturous time ever for the both of you. Still wary of getting played, you only trusted Baekhyun enough to get intimately close months and months into dating. And he was patient with you, going at a slow pace, letting you pull away whenever you wanted. Until you didn’t want to anymore.

That last leap of faith was a beginning in itself – a true beginning of you and Baekhyun. The final seal was broken, and you entrusted yourself fully to him, which he repaid by showering you in his affection and feelings that he himself had not come to acknowledge just then.

After a year together, you were not simply allowed into the inner circle, but also educated about the special abilities that Baekhyun and his friends had. You were first interrogated by their leader, Junmyeon, who wanted to make sure you had no ulterior motives and were not going to tell a living soul about them. He called it ‘a quick chat’ as he dragged you in a scarcely furnished room where he sat you down at the small metal table across from him. The leader asked you questions and tried reading your verbal and non-verbal cues, so it was clearly an interrogation. Junmyeon was pretty experienced in this, so he could instantly tell that you were harmless. And you also passed the test, answering the most ridiculous questions about Baekhyun – apparently, that was to make sure you were not ‘faking it’ – so, he accepted you into their family.

However, knowing too much was dangerous, so you only learned about their powers and how they came from the so-called EXO Planet when they were young (talk about dating an alien!), and that the organization they called ‘the Red’ amongst themselves wanted to hunt them down. They also used to be held hostage by these people – and that was just about as much you knew about the issue because Baekhyun kept you away from the ‘unnecessary details’. He only told you that they seemed to be hidden well in this town, surrounded by just enough people to blend in and disappear. And you worried, always, because you knew too little about the dangers surrounding the group, and even less about how you could contribute to their safety.

Baekhyun laughed when you once brought it up, finding your concern nothing but cute.

‘You don’t have to worry about it, flower. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, not the other way around,’ he then said, playing with the curly ends of your hair.

You frowned at that. Why was it not your job to take care of him? If you could help, you wanted to help. But he always brushed you off, saying that the only thing you should do to help is staying out of trouble. Like that was a challenge – you either studied or hung out with him and his friends, not much room to stir trouble. The only other person you talked to regularly was your roommate, and she was also pretty harmless.

As time went by, you got closer to your own graduation, basically, one year left before you had to figure it out for yourself again. Your boyfriend was always supportive, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he imagined your future. He was always up to something but never shared it with you since it was ‘nothing for you to worry about’. Had he not shown you his actual abilities before, you would’ve certainly thought that it was a crazy lie he told you to cover up for some kind of illegal activity. In reality, some illegal activities were going on, especially since hacking and cracking was one of Minseok’s specialties (but mostly because they needed to keep their identities out of sight). Another reason why they didn’t all go to the same school when they arrived, and also why they changed their appearance ever so often. The lucky mullet was long gone by the time you had your first Christmas together, and you had had the pleasure of seeing him in multiple hair colors throughout almost three years of your relationship. Notably, the first dozen or so make-out sessions you had with him took place when he had just cut his hair and dyed it pitch black. And he still wore his fake lip ring at the time, which was an experience in itself. He did know how to use his mouth…

Admittedly, you were kind of used to being the object of the boys’ shameless teasing every time you hung out together. The way Baekhyun kept you close and fussed about everything was, apparently, atypical for their usually chill and humorous hyung. He was their second-in-command, after all, the genius behind the strategic planning of the group, and the mind that kept them hidden for so long in one place.

Because of you.

One of the boys had previously let it slip that they hadn’t lived anywhere for that long before, maybe not even for one full year. But this time Baekhyun was determined to stay for a while, now that he had an anchor.

But the day came. When he found out that they might’ve been compromised, he got scared. The way he’d never feared anything before. And he’d been through a lot, to put it mildly. Baekhyun could maintain a cold and sharp mind at all times, that was his thing, but not when it came to you. Once he figured out that there was a real chance, that they could’ve found the EXO hideout and, thus, could connect you to the boys, he couldn’t think straight. Overwhelmed by a sudden panic, he sought advice from the leader.

‘You know it’s not me who’s supposed to decide,’ Junmyeon sighed, looking at his disheveled second. ‘I told you a relationship wasn’t a good idea. I also think that keeping her close means putting her life in jeopardy.’

His words were cutting through Baekhyun as he paced the room, long fingers grasping his own hair.

‘But it still may be a safer option than leaving her here,’ the leader added, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘We need to relocate fast, and you have the ‘better of two evils’ situation on your hands.’

‘I know I should leave her,’ Baekhyun stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the leader. ‘But what if they already know, hyung?’

‘Minseok had every trace of her erased, not a single camera in town had a glimpse of her with you. They might have found our footprints in the sand, but those don’t necessarily lead to her. I suppose they should move on as soon as they come here and realize that we’re nowhere around.’

‘Most likely, but what if-’

‘They can very well catch up to us while we run. Like I said, there isn’t a right answer, but a choice. And I think that you’ve already made it when you should give her a voice, too,’ the leader pushed.

‘I-’ Baekhyun turned away to hide the glassy eyes from Junmyeon. ‘I have to give her a chance, hyung. I cannot sentence her to a lifetime of running and danger. And I know she’s silly enough to throw herself into it if she has a say in this.’

‘And if you’re wrong? You’re going to break her heart as a precaution?’

‘She won’t die from a broken heart. Can you imagine what they’d do to her if they find out?’

Junmyeon bit his lip. This time, the choice was completely out of his hands. He thought his second was making a mistake, but it was not his place to decide. Exhaling again, he nodded.

‘Tell her in the morning. We’re moving out as soon as the rain starts.’

>> Chapter 2

A/N: So, what do you think? This is more of an introductory chapter, I know, but it covers quite a lot of their relationship with Baek. You must be excited to see where this goes and when Baёk appears? Or if Baekhyun is coming back? Me too, me too 🙈

[sporadic-gremlin]

Ever since this afternoon, the thought of Cassandra or Daniela sucking me dry under my desk while I’m in class has been on my mind and I’m writing it to get it out my system.

Includes: public blowjobs, voyerism (Daniela), deepthroating, facefucking (kinda?), gn reader, cum swallowing, recording

Umm we’re gonna say they can still transform into flies but it’s a modern au. It’s for the plot, okay?

Cassandra Dimitrescu

It started off as a joke that you would sneak her into class and she could do whatever she wanted to you, and of course you didn’t mean it but it awakened something in Cassandra. The thought of you squirming in your seat while you tried to hide the fact that she was literally taking your soul, turned her on immensely.

So, she confronted you about and you were baffled at first. Cassandra really wants to try this? But now…your mind is shifting from your professor to the fingers that are slowly trailing up your thigh. You had to hunch forward or someone above you might see what the hell was happening. She’s teasing you, palming the bulge forming in your jeans and you can’t help but pray that Cassandra moves a bit faster.

She taps your knee, urging you to look down and give away your position when she unbuttons your pants, feeling her fingers digging into the waistband of your underwear. Picking up your pen, any attention that was on the inevitable pleasure you were about to receive, was now on the instruction in front of you. You let out a shallow breath, cock finally exposed to the cool air of the room. Now all that’s left was to wait for your soul to ascend.

Soft kisses were peppered around the tip, building up the sensitivity. Cassandra’s breath was cool against your throbbing shaft but soon her mouth engulfed the head of your cock, a groan leaving your mouth, fuck. Her tongue danced around you, mouth slowly moving down to take in more of you. Right now, the rest of the world was a blur, your only focus on the woman between your legs.

Cassandra smirked. You were so cute, giving her your undivided attention when you really should be paying attention to your class. She withdrew and didn’t go back until you started to write on your paper. When Cassandra did go back, she already established a steady pace, her tongue stroking the underside of your cock. Shit, shit, shit! She felt so good around your cock like this and being in class made it even better.

If you weren’t in class, your hands would probably be tied behind your back as Cassandra slowly licked your cock like a lollipop. Or she could be riding you, feeling your girth stretch her out. Fuck, this felt good.

So good that you didn’t even notice your professor shouting your name. “Y/n! Please answer this question for the class.” You sat up, pushing your chair in, forcing more of your cock down Cassandra’s throat, a small moan leaving her lips. You cleared your throat, “Right…sorry.” While answering the question, you could feel your tip hitting the back of Cassandra’s throat, her moan sending tingles up your spine.

Somehow, after stuttering over your answer a few times, you got it right and seemingly, as a reward, Cassandra softly started hum. So light that no one but you could actually hear it. As you got closer to coming, your hand moved under the desk and to your lap. Hips slowly rocking to draw out as much pleasure as possible, head hanging over the back of your chair, you could feel that coil getting tighter. Light airy moans left your mouth but someone could mistake it as you mumbling under your breath.

The vibrations from Cassandra humming slowly brought you closer and closer until you wrapped your hand in her hair, pushing every single inch of your cock into her mouth and holding her there. Your eyes closed as cum filled Cassandra’s mouth, the feeling of her swallowing every drop making your head cloudy. Her tongue swirled around every inch, licking up any cum that may have escaped before pulling off and giving you a kiss on your stomach.

Just a few second after, you saw a fly buzz past you, the space between your legs now empty and your head a jumbled mess.

Daniela Dimitrescu

Daniela is always down to try something new so when you asked would she suck you off while you were in class, her answer was already yes before you could finish your sentence. You both had no shame. You’ve had sex in places that many people wouldn’t if they didn’t want to be embarrassed for the rest of their lives but your girlfriend is unhinged so.

Which leads up to now, at the top of your class with only two people sitting in the same row as you, just a couple seats away from each other. With Daniela here, this class would finally have some excitement. The professor was an old lady who’s presence constantly kept the mood of the class relatively low. Between your legs, you could hear Daniela giggling, the excitement of trying something new getting to her.

Unbuttoning your pants, your opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, a sign for Daniela to do the same. You took your cock out and slapped it against her tongue a few times before her mouth closed around it, half of it already gone. A soft sigh left your mouth, eyes closing while Daniela sucked on half of your cock and jerked the other with her hand.

“Good girl,” you praised, carding your fingers through her hair and pushing more of your cock into her mouth. A languid pace was set and your hands found themselves behind your head while the professor kept talking. In the corner of your eye, you could see your classmate looking at Daniela with a surprised expression. A small laugh escaped your lips before you groaned. They couldn’t take their eyes off of your pretty girl until you looked over at them.

“Enjoying the show?,” you asked. Their eyes darted around, obviously embarrassed at being caught. “Record her, I don’t mind, nor does she.” They showed hesitance at first but eventually did pull out their phone and recorded Daniela sucking you off. Your fingers curled around her hair, controlling the pace and fucking her face, eyes trained on her. You rocked your hips gently, tip hitting the back of Daniela’s throat.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well for me,” you groaned, eyes closing when her cheeks hallowed out. Daniela bought her hand up and fondled your balls, the pleasure pooling as your pace got rougher and faster. “Gonna cum soon.” You let out a choked moan, opening your eyes and making eye contact with Daniela.

You hummed, feeling the cord snap with your belly and ropes of cum shot down her throat. When you opened your eyes, Daniela made a show out of cleaning you up before tucking your cock back in your pants and sat next to you. The same person recording you had a bright blush on their face and a few other eyes were on you.

By the time the day had ended, word had gotten out that you were receiving head in class. Not that you minded, though…

I think I did decent but it was kind of obvious I enjoyed writing for Daniela compared to Cassandra. I was really tense when writing her because she’s sadistic and seems teasing so I wanted reader to kind of be her counterpart. We all know how Daniela acts, she’s the youngest for Christ sake.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Pendent.

Written for a very lovely, very patient anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Bokuto/Reader (Haikyuu!!).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: F. Reader, Toxic Relationships, Possessive/Protective Mindsets, Co-Dependency, Non-Consensual Touching, Threats of Violence, Slight Victim Blaming.

[Part One] / [Part Three]

Unfortunately, Bokuto wasn’t very good at his keeping promises.

He tried to, for your sake. He wanted to be a good boyfriend, but he wasn’t perfect, he had his flaws. He was sure you had yours, too, even if they were difficult to find from his perspective – straddling the seat in front of yours, his head on your desk, your fingers idly combing through his hair as you worked on something, an essay or a worksheet or another boring, complicated assignment he didn’t have a chance of helping you with, despite being a year ahead of you. If it was anyone else, he might’ve whined, pouted, gotten distracted and forgot why he bothered to visit you in the first place, but he restrained himself to toying with your sleeve, to listening to the soft, mumbled curses you let out whenever you stumbled onto something you didn’t understand. He liked watching you work. He liked watching you, in general. He liked you.

He was sure he’d like you even more, if you let him take you somewhere a little more private.

Bokuto opened his mouth, ready to buy for your attention, but he was interrupted by a group of boys jeering near the ground of the classroom, girls whispering in the furthest corner, your classmates, your peers, your friends that were forced to a distance by your gentle excuses and Bokuto’s poor reputation, outside of the sport’s sector. He’d promised he wouldn’t be jealous, swore up and down he wouldn’t act like some brooding, possessive jerk, but he could still be annoyed, he was still your boyfriend. He wasn’t jealous, he was just irritated. He wasn’t pestering you because he wanted to get you alone, no, he just wanted to let you focus. He just didn’t want anyone else distracting you, not while he was there.

“(Y/n),” He drawled, earning a hum in response. It was what he expected, your dedication was one of the many things he loved about you, but part of him hated how focused you could be. How hard it was to get your attention, despite your constant reassurance. “Can’t you do this in the courtyard? I’m dyin’, over here.”

“I just need a few more minutes.” That was what you’d said five minutes ago, and five minutes before that, and every five minutes since the first time he thought to ask. “If you’re bored, you could always…. I don’t know, try going to your own class?”

The jab was playful, but Bokuto still sulked, sitting up just enough to lean into your hand, letting you cup his cheek as finally, finally, your eyes shifted from the paper in front of you to him, an exasperated smile already tugging at the corners of your lips. “But then I wouldn’t be with you.” This time, he let himself be shameless about it, pressing a fleeting kiss into the heel of your palm as you flushed, averting your eyes with an unimpressed scoff. “This is your free hour, you can do anything you want! C’mon, there’s this really nice spot by the—”

This time, he was cut off entirely, but not by background noise or distant laughter or something as easily dismissed. No, it was worse than that, more unignorable – your name, shouted across the room from a boy with messy black hair, his smile a little too eager and his voice a little too grating as he called for you again, intent on getting your attention, one way or another. You didn’t seem to mind, popular enough to be used to this kind of thing, but Bokuto’s glare was reflexive, ingrained, as instinctual as he way he barred his teeth as he turned towards—

You caught him by the arm before he could stand up, before he could do anything messy and drastic, your smile never waver. That was why you were the better half. between the two of you. You were just too much of an angel to ever stand back and let someone get what they deserve. “He’s just a friend,” You explained, the clarification unnecessary, but still appreciated. “It’s not every day my boyfriend takes time out of his busy schedule to babysit me. He’s probably just trying to get under my skin.”

It was a conflicting feeling. His heart skipped a beat at the implication, at that soft, casual reminder that you were his and he was yours, but he still didn’t like the idea of someone teasing you, the idea of someone thinking they were good enough to get away with it. He scowled, but you didn’t give him the chance to complain, your fingers already digging into his bicep, urging him to listen. “Please?” You tried, your tone caught somewhere between hopeful and questioning. A queit, optimistic urging you already knew Bokuto couldn’t resist “I’ll make it up to you, but please, let it go.”

He wanted to keep his promise. He really, really wanted to be a good boyfriend.

If this meant he could be a little better, he was willing to give it a shot.

“I’ll try.”

~

He was telling the truth. He was going to try. He wanted to try.

He was just having a little trouble. It was hard to teach an old dog new tricks, even if Bokuto was desperate to learn. He just needed a little help, and luckily, Bokuto knew just who to go to when he needed help.

“It’s not like I’m tryin’ to hurt her feelings.” It was already late, the sun low in the sky and practice long-since over, but Bokuto’s pace was unhurried as he walked at Akaashi’s side, unrushed, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to care about getting home quickly. Unfortunately, Akaashi was too used to him to complain, only nodding along as Bokuto went on. “I just don’t want anyone else to hurt her feelings, either. If I back off, I gotta take that risk.”

Akaashi was quiet, for a moment, his eyes on the sidewalk. He’d known you longer than Bokuto, technically, been there for you longer than your boyfriend had, and Bokuto would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t feel a pang of resentment because of that. But, Akaashi wasn’t a threat, Akaashi wouldn’t hurt you. If Bokuto couldn’t put a little faith in him, he couldn’t put faith in anyone, and Bokuto wasn’t ready to admit that to himself, just yet. “(Y/n)’s smart,” He started, hesitantly. “If you give her room to breathe, she’ll take care of herself. She likes doing these kinds of things on her own.”

Bokuto knew that. You were shy, despite everything, too much of a sweetheart to ever burden anyone else. Somehow, the reminder did little to ease his nerves. “I can’t do that.” It just wasn’t an option. Akaashi might’ve known you longer, but Bokuto knew you better. It just wouldn’t be the same if he let something come between the two of you. It wouldn’t be good for your relationship, it wouldn’t be good for you. It wouldn’t be good for Bokuto, either, but this wasn’t about him. Or, he’d really like to convince himself it wasn’t, at least. “I mean, it took her months just to talk to me, and you should’ve seen had badly she was tremblin' when she confessed. She’s shy, like that. Poor thing couldn’t make it on her own, not without people like us.”

He glanced toward Akaashi, serving for a small smile, a confident nod, a sign of affirmation, but Akaashi wasn’t next to him, anymore. Glancing over his shoulder, Bokuto found Akaashi behind him, his neutral expression suddenly scrunched, concerned, worried. That was enough to make Bokuto stop, too, his heart tightening in his chest as he turned. “She… She’s just shy, right?” His voice came out uneven, uneasy. He trusted you, obviously. He knew you. He was just willing to admit Akaashi knew you differently. He might’ve known… different parts, things you were too timid to ever show your boyfriend. “I mean, I get that she’s popular, but… She’s gotta be shy, man. That’s why she needs me.”

It took Akaashi a second to respond – a long, painful, agonizing second. It was worse than any injury he’d ever gotten, any sprain or bruise or dislocation. It was pure, unadulterated agony, it was torture, and…

And, it was nothing compared to the way his heart broke, when Akaashi finally opened his mouth.

“There’s something you should know.”

~

Bokuto was trying. Bokuto was trying so, so, so hard.

He just didn’t know you were going to make it this difficult for him to improve.

Your parents weren’t home. They never seemed to be, not when you asked Bokuto to come over, and not when he showed up on your doorstep, less than an hour after his talk with Akaashi, his face pale and his hands shaking at his sides. Most days, it was a lucky coincidence, just another factor that proved you needed somebody like him to come along and support you, take care of you, love you. Tonight, though, it seemed like a godsend.

He didn’t bother knocking, just scrambling for the spare key you kept under the mat. In the back of his mind, he made a note to badger you about finding a better hiding spot, but that wasn’t important. If anything, your careless behavior served as an advantage, a reinforcement, another reason he was right and Akaashi wasn’t. You needed him. Both of you needed each other.

Your room was on the second floor. If you’d heard Bokuto let himself in, you didn’t bother coming to investigate, letting him drag himself up your staircase and down the hall without any unwanted attention, even if he did find himself lingering in your open doorway when he finally reached it, abruptly unable to make a sound as he took you in. You were beautiful, obviously, you always were, your uniform swapped out for an oversized hoodie, your legs folded and a laptop open on your bed, but he only got a minute to admire you before his shoulder knocked against the doorframe, drawing your attention. It was painful, having to watch you flinch back, your eyes going wide and your lips parting, but you didn’t sound afraid as you leaned towards him, moving to the edge of your bed. “Baby?” You started, startled, but not scared. Never scared. Not of your boyfriend, not of Bokuto. “I didn’t know you were coming over. Everything alright?”

He didn’t answer. His voice would’ve cracked if he tried, and it was easier to force himself to trudge forward, to trip over his own feet as he approached you, barely making it to the edge of the bed before collapsing into your arms, letting you catch him with an airy gasp. He didn’t bother trying to resist the urge to wrap his arms around your waist, to bury his face in the crook of your neck, to bring you closer and keep you closer, despite the feelings of your hands on his shoulders, feebly trying to nudge him away as your heart raced, the sound just a little too loud, just a little too telling. He tried to ignore it. He wanted to ignore it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he had to deal with that, too, on top of everything else.

“C’mon, big guy,” You tried, letting out a small, nervous laugh. “It won’t get better if you don’t talk about it. What’s wrong?”

Looking back, he should’ve been more gentle about it. He should’ve thought of a better way to ask. At the moment, though, it was all he could do to open his mouth and let the words fall out. “Do you love me?”

There was a pause, a hesitation. Suddenly, the sympathy in your voice felt false, too unfaltering to really be believable. “What’re you talking about, Kotaro?”

“Akaashi told me.” You shrunk underneath him, curling into yourself, but Bokuto didn’t let you go, he couldn’t let you go. There was still a chance that Akaashi could’ve been lying, that Bokuto was going to lose his best friend rather than his girlfriend. He’d still be distraught, obviously, but it wouldn’t destroy him, not like this would. Not like this was going to, by the time he was done. “But, he didn’t tell me everything, right? Like, I know my team put you up to it, asking me out and all, but that can’t be the only reason you’re still with me. I’m not in a rut anymore, right? If you didn’t really love me, you wouldn’t still be—” He cut himself off, inhaling sharply. “You love me, you have to love me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be doing this. You gotta love me, at least a little.”

“I don’t want to say this, Bokuto.” His surname. Something twisted in his chest, and for a second, he wondered if it’d be less painful to rip out his own heart and do the work for you. “You’re a really nice guy. You shouldn’t have to hear this from me, if you’re going to hear it from anyone.”

He could’ve laughed. He might’ve, but the noise came out cracked, jarringly stilted, too unintelligible to be recognized. Again, you moved to pull away, to shrug him off completely, but Bokuto didn’t let you. He didn’t want to. “It’s not---”

“It’s over.” You weren’t breaking up with him. You couldn’t be breaking up with him, but it sounded like you were, like you could’ve been trying to. Like you were about to do something shortsighted and cruel, and he wasn’t sure how to stop you. “Your friends noticed you couldn’t play, and they asked me to cheer you up. That’s all it was,” You explained, your tone now light, casual, borderline uncaring. Like you didn’t have a reason to be half as torn up as he was. “I wanted to help. I was going to let you down gently, but then you just got so… intense, I wasn’t sure how to get out.”

“Intense?” He pulled back willingly, if only to make his confusion obvious. “What do you mean, princess?”

A pang of discomfort flashed across your expression. Thankfully, you were kind enough not to correct him. “It’s just… You get so overbearing, sometimes. It was starting to get suffocating.” You sighed, letting yourself close your eyes. Bokuto might’ve winced, if he wasn’t already so spent. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe without having to see you take it out on someone else. It’s better, this way. We’re just not compatible.”

“You love me.” He might’ve been whispering. He might’ve been screaming. Bokuto couldn’t tell – blood was rushing past his ears, clouding his thoughts, making it impossible to hear on anything else. “You love me, just like I love you. You couldn’t have went through with this, if you didn’t. You can’t—” You winced, and Bokuto realized he was digging his nails into your sides, that he was holding you a little too tightly and you probably didn’t like that. Then again, he wasn’t sure what you liked, anymore. He couldn’t be sure you’d ever even liked him. “You need me. We need each other. You can’t just pretend you don’t because of some shitty deal.”

In your defense, you didn’t yell, you didn’t lose your temper. You just shook your head, dropping your gaze to the sheets. “Go home, Bokuto. This is better for both of us. You’ll see that, when you calm down.”

“No, no.” He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to, he needed to show you that the two of you were meant for each other, but you looked so serious, he was forced to shove the feeling down, to stave it off for another few minutes. You weren’t acting like yourself, right now. You thought you didn’t love him. “It’s fine, babe, we’ll talk it out. You just need some time to—”

You didn’t bother to soften the blow, this time. “There’s nothing to talk about. Go home.”

“No.” He was grabbing at your arms before he had a chance to hold himself back, taking you be the shoulders, trying to stop you from doing something reckless. That’s what this was — reckless. You weren’t thinking. You couldn’t be thinking, not if you were about to say something so heartless. “I just need to show you I’m—”

There was a blur of movement, a sharp crack. By the time Bokuto realized what happened, his head was turned to the side, his cheek burning where you palm collided with his skin. Reflexively, he let go of you, moving to nurse his bruised ego, and you didn’t waist time, standing and retreating to the opposite corner of your small bedroom. “Get out.” You were trying to growl. You were trying to intimidate him, you were trying to care your boyfriend. That hurt more than the slap ever could, honestly. “Get out now, before I call the fucking cops.”

It might’ve been the shock. You caught him off-guard, at his lowest, when his resolve was just thin enough to snap, and when you glared, when you looked at him like he would ever hurt you, he’d be lying if he said a part of him didn’t break, shattering and giving away like a thin layer of ice trying to hold something twice its weight. For whatever reason, he didn’t argue, he didn’t even look at you, keeping his eyes on the ground as he pushed himself to his feet. You were being irrational. You didn’t want him to stay, to comfort you, to help you be reasonable.

If he didn’t know better, he might’ve said you didn’t want him at all, anymore.

At least he made it outside before he collapsed, buckling under his own weight as soon as your front door shut behind him. In an instant, his vision blurred, the tightness in his chest turning into a throbbing ache, but he couldn’t seem to care. He couldn’t think. He didn’t want to, not if it meant admitting everything that’d just happened was real.

It was all Bokuto could do to fish his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his contacts blindly until he found what he was looking for. He wasn’t even sure who he planned on calling, not until his phone was already ringing, a familiar, reliable voice immediately picking up, on the other end.

“Akaashi?” His voice cracked, and distantly, he realized he was starting to cry.

“Do you have a minute? I just… I gotta tell you about something.”

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Nineteen ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3722

Warnings: None

A/n I’m back bay-beeeee!!! Thank you for your patience while I took a few weeks off to finish school. I did something kinda stupid and booked a full semester of classes for the summer session *pained smile* and asked for more shifts at work *pained smile*. So! In light of this ~questionable~ choice, I'm changing my update schedule. Updates will now come for sure once a week on Wednesdays, with the occasional bonus chapter. Thanks for understanding, and happy reading! 

I leave Cosima at her door.

I’m surprised by how much of my willpower it takes to walk away.

Now that I know what it’s like to hold her close, to feel her lips on mine, to hear her say that she loves me, I find it incredibly difficult to distance myself. I want more of her. I want to jump head-first into the ocean that is Cosima and allow myself to drown.

Though, I suppose, that is exactly what I am doing. Because loving her will be the death of me.

But denying the need to be with her is an even worse fate. And, by the way she seems to wholeheartedly return my affections, she feels the same.

Regardless, I have yet to even officially ask if I can court her — I have no right to invite myself into her chambers, especially not for the night. So, I return to my room. Thankfully, Rumil is still out. He adores Cosima almost as much as I do, but I guarantee he will not be pleased by the development in our relationship—understandably. Choosing to bind myself to a mortal means something difficult for my family. I will have to tell them soon, but not tonight. I don’t want to tarnish the euphoria my time with Cosima has given me.

I fall into bed.

I should be exhausted. After all, deciding to stop fighting reason and giving in to what I’ve been resisting for so long is quite tiring.

But every time I close my eyes, I remember Cosima looking up at me, dazed and adoring, the way her lips searched after mine, the way she looked when I told her how I felt.

It makes for quite a restless night.

{***}

My day seems endless. Every meeting, every drill, every task, my mind is consumed with Cosima. Now that I know I can hold her, kiss her, openly declare my affections, that is all I want to do. With every free moment in my day, I fight the urge to seek her out. We have plans to meet for dinner, and I anchor myself in that — I will see her then.

After a long day of agony, the time for dinner arrives.

When I hear the knock on my open door, I have to force myself not to run across the room. I take a deep breath when I reach the door, trying to push myself into my usual state of self-assurance. Once I’ve got myself under control, I open the door.

And the assurance vanishes.

Cosima steps into my room, beautiful and lovely as ever, wearing for the first time in all that I’ve known her, a shy smile. I understand it. Though we have been alone a thousand times before, and been friends for what feels like ages, after last night, everything feels new, unsure.

I close the door behind her.

“How was your day,” she asks, fiddling with her fingers.

I smile, trying to act normal. “It was alright.” I step forward, as close to her as I dare. The brilliant light of the sunset dances across her hair and I can’t help reaching up a hand to trace over the waves. “I admit though, I found myself quite distracted.”

She grins and quirks an eyebrow, already seeming much more like herself. “Would you like to tell me why?”

I dip my head closer to hers. “I’d wager you can guess.”

I press my lips to hers, all at once feeling the elation that comes with doing so and the anxiety that she will push me away and ask what in the Valar I think I’m doing. For all I know, last night could have been a fluke. She could have changed her mind.

But her lips move against mine and her hands find the back of my neck, holding me in place, and my worry vanishes. It is replaced by a new feeling, one that clouds my brain and blocks out everything around me except for her.

Cosima pulls away and rests her forehead against mine, looking up at me with wide, vulnerable eyes. “So you haven’t changed your mind?”

Oh, how alike we are. I take her hand, wrapping my other around her waist. It feels so strange to interact with someone like this. Not strange in a bad way—not at all—but I have spent my entire life keeping my distance from others. Never in over three thousand years have I wanted to take someone in my arms and hold them as close to me as possible. I squeeze the hand in mine. “No, I have not. And I won’t change my mind. I meant what I said last night. I choose you today and I will choose you for the rest of my life.”

She lets out a shuddering breath, her hand tensing on my shoulder. “I shouldn’t let you.”

Despite the concern I feel for her—I can see that my words have caused her a measure of stress—my lips quirk in a smile. “Cosima, I am fully grown and capable of making my own choices, just as you are. Though you can send me away if you wish—that is your right—it would not stop me from loving you.”

She sighs somewhat sadly, but she raises on her toes and kisses me again. “Well, you’ve got me completely besotted, so congratulations.”

I laugh, relieved to hear the words and to see that the sadness has left her eyes. I bury my face in her neck, hugging her tightly. “I guess that’s good to hear.”

She jabs her elbow into my ribs, presumably at my sarcasm, which only makes me laugh harder. She pushes against my chest, raising up for another kiss, when a knock sounds through the room.

We freeze.

Thank Valar I shut the door.

As if agreeing to an unspoken plan, Cosima hurries to sit at the small table where the dinner plates I have for us are set. Her presence shouldn’t be anything to cause alarm—we are well-known friends—though, I suppose, we have been avoiding each other for months.

I hold back a sigh. Yes, her presence probably will raise an eyebrow or two.

Once she’s settled, I roll back my shoulders and assume a neutral expression, opening my door.

It’s Orophin and Lavandil.

I smile, moving out of the way so they can enter, and welcome them in.

“Cosima.” Orophin falters upon noticing her presence.

She smiles and waves, standing from the table and joining us in the center of the room. “Hey, what’s up?”

Orophin glances between my human companion and myself. “I…” He furrows his eyebrows, obviously trying to draw a connection between Cosima, the closed door, and my hopefully neutral expression. I don’t think he gets there. “I am glad to see the two of you have reconciled,” he says finally, nodding at us both.

Lavandil, on the other hand, has her eyes blown wide. She stares pointedly at Cosima, looking like it’s taking all the effort in the world not to run over to her and demand an explanation. Cosima’s stoicism is not as practiced as mine, and she breaks eye contact under Lavandil’s stare, looking at the ceiling instead.

We’ll have to work on that later.

“What brings you here,” I ask, hoping to redirect the focus.

My question has an unintended effect. Orophin and Lavandil exchange glances, a weight seeming to fall on both of their shoulders.

Orophin clasps his hands behind his back, looking me square in the eye. He takes a deep breath. “I am staying in Imladris.”

Cosima makes an audible intake of breath.

I don’t move.

Orophin continues, hurrying to explain himself. “I know this seems sudden, but the thought has weighed on my mind for a while.”

Again, I say nothing.

My mind runs through a million things at once, analyzing previous conversations, expressions, looking for any clue that this was coming. In hindsight, there are many. How could I have missed the signs?

Orophin takes a step forward. “Brother, it…it is getting more dangerous in this world by the day. I understand my duty to my people but I will not leave Lavandil unprotected.”

I can respect that.

My eyes involuntarily turn to Cosima.

I can understand that.

There is nothing in this world that could stop me from doing all that I can to keep her safe.

I nod slowly, turning my gaze back to my brother and his love. “You are released from your duties until you decide to reclaim them. I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”

Orophin’s shoulders sag, his face breaking into an expression of relief. “Thank you, Haldir.”

Lavandil’s eyes shine and she steps forward, giving me a pleading look. “I’m sorry.”

Voices overlap as Orophin, Cosima, and I all hurry to reassure her that she has nothing to be sorry for. Lavandil smiles, still teary-eyed, though thankfully the guilt has faded from her face. She turns to Cosima, eyes softening. “I will miss you, mellon nîn.”

I watch Cosima closely. She blinks rapidly and, when she speaks, her voice is scratchy with emotion. “I’ll miss you, too.”

{***}

Orophin and Lavandil stay for dinner. The four of us talk, laugh, and carefully avoid the subjects of our impending departure from each other. When I shut the door behind them, a heavy realization make me want to slump my shoulders.

I will miss my brother.

Of course I am happy for him — he will no longer be separated from his love — but it is still sad to leave him behind, especially as this world becomes more and more perilous. Here in Imladris, he will be out of my control. I won’t be able to keep him safe.

I turn to Cosima, noticing the tracks of tears that run down her cheeks. I sigh, holding a hand out to her which she takes readily.

I pull her into a hug and rest my cheek against the top of her head. “Are you okay?”

She laughs without humor, burying her face in my chest. “Are you?”

I ignore the question. “I know you and Lavandil have become close.”

Cosima sighs, nodding. “I don’t think I actually ever considered that we would be leaving here. All the friendships I’ve made, all the things I’ve come to love about Imladris…I’m going to be leaving it all behind. It’s just,” she sighs again, her arms tightening around my back. “I don’t remember my home, but Imladris has become what I think a home would be.”

I purse my lips, feeling guilty. I didn’t consider how all this would affect her, though, now that I think about it, it is sure to. “Lavandil and Orophin will visit. I am even sure you will see Elrond again before long. And, should you desire it, Lothlórien will be your home. My people will be yours, they will welcome you and care for you as their own. It will become your world as much as it is mine.”

She exhales shakily and smiles up at me, giving me a look of adoration that takes my breath away. I bring a hand to her face, catching the tears before they can run into her smile.

“Thank you,” she breathes. She kisses me quickly on the lips before pulling away, wiping her tears and rolling her eyes. “Come on, I’ll stop crying so we can finish dinner.”

I laugh and follow her back to the table.

{***}

The next morning, I meet Cosima at her door. She smiles up at me, eyes still glazed slightly with sleep. She steps back, pulling the door with her to allow room for me to enter. Upon seeing the guest I’ve brought with me, her eyes widen.

“Good morning, Cosima,” I greet swiftly, knowing she won’t be pleased with my ambush.

Predictably, she purses her lips together, crosses her arms over her chest, and raises an eyebrow in my direction. “I told you, I will not be wearing that bulky, hot armor for the trip. There’s no need to bring a seamstress to measure me.”

At my side, Galina the seamstress shifts uncertainly.

I fix my gaze on Cosima, clasping my hands behind my back. “And I told you that you will be traveling as a member of my company, and as a member of my company, you are required to adhere to safety measures that I, the commander, deem fit.”

I’m used to glares.

Enemies, wardens, my brothers when they were children — all have given me scathing looks before, and it never bothered me. But the fire behind Cosima’s eyes puts all that experience to shame.

I remind myself to stand my ground.

Regardless of her personal feelings towards the armor, it will keep her safe. And I’m not even putting her in that much — just chainmail over her neck, arms, and torso. Alexander will be required to wear it as well.

She knows this of course, and still isn’t pleased.

But she throws her arms out to the side, allowing the seamstress to do her work. She stares me down the whole time, eyes narrowed, chin raised, face impassable.

Is this what I look like?

Galina takes the measurements and leaves quickly, off to Alexander’s chambers and then to the armory. I talked to Alexander earlier and he has no qualms with wearing the armor, so why is Cosima putting up such a fight?

The door closes behind Galina, and Cosima crosses her arms over her chest. “One of these days, I’m going to ambush you, see how you like it,” she mutters, continuing to glare at me.

I give her a stern look. “You know my reasoning and I will not be moved on this. In Imladris or Lothlórien it is different, but on the road, I am in charge of ensuring the safety of every member of my company. Were you anyone else, I would still insist on the armor — no one travels without it. You can imagine I am doubly focused on safeguarding the woman I love.”

Her expression softens. She smiles somewhat begrudgingly. “I guess I can’t fault you for that.”

I return her smile and take a step in her direction, pleased to be on good terms again.

The eyebrow shoots back up and her eyes narrow once more.

I freeze mid-step.

“But I can fault you for showing up so early in the morning with Galina without a minute of warning! I’m still in my pajamas!”

I raise an eyebrow to match hers. “I highly doubt you would have gone to the seamstress willingly.”

She huffs. “Maybe I would had I known the alternative was a sneak attack.” But despite her words, the playfulness returns to her eyes. She extends a hand in my direction. I close the distance between us, taking the offering gladly.

I decide to push my luck. “I must admit, I find the sight of you in your pajamas quite endearing.”

Cosima snorts, laying her head against my chest. “Yeah, well get ready to be endeared for three weeks straight. I’m only wearing old tunics on the road — I’m not risking ruining any of the new things from Lavandil.” A pause, and she sighs. She moves her head back so she can see me. “What are we going to do on the road?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “I don’t follow your meaning.”

“Are we going to tell your brothers,” she clarifies, shrugging her shoulders, “or are we going to pretend that we haven’t…” She huffs, searching for her words, “changed the nature of our relationship?”

“Right.” I take a deep breath.

I dread telling my brothers. While I am elated at finally being with Cosima, I know my brothers are likely to focus less on my happiness and more on my impending demise. I’m the one in love, and I struggled for months with the reality of my choice. Regardless, it is important to tell them soon. Hiding it would only make it worse. “I would prefer to tell them before we leave Imladris. I don’t want to waste any time with you pretending we’re not together, especially since they’re going to find out eventually, anyway.”

She nods, looking up at me in understanding. “Whenever you’re ready. I suppose we’ll have to tell Alex, too.”

I fight the urge to grimace.

She sees right through it. She laughs, pushing against my chest. “He’s gotten so much better and you know it.”

“True,” I allow. Learning Sindarin and researching his condition have done wanders for his personally — I would say the man is nearly tolerable by now.

Of course, that is likely to change on the road when he is away from his books and under my command.

“Oh, and once we tell your brothers, I want to tell Lavandil, too,” Cosima reminds me. “She’s been rooting for us.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Rooting for us? I didn’t even know she was aware of our mutual interest.”

Cosima grins guiltily. “You may have come up in conversation once or twice.”

I roll my eyes, trying to cover up how pleased I am. “Well, there’s no sense in delaying it. I had planned to dine with my brothers after training tonight. Would you like to join us? We can tell them then.”

She nods, taking a deep breath. “Sounds good. Oh, and I guess Baranor will need a heads up as well.” She scrunches up her eyebrows. “Gosh, that’s a lot of telling. Can’t we just send out a newsletter?”

I laugh, pulling her back against my chest. “If only it were that easy.”

{***}

My brothers and I dine in Cosima’s chambers. Her seating area is larger, the table as well, and I’d rather tell them in the privacy of her room than in the dining hall where anyone could react.

Rumil suspects.

From the moment I asked him to meet in Cosima’s room, suspicion entered his eyes. He had passed through the doorway warily, looking as if he expected some sort of ambush. When he locked eyes with Cosima, he had given her a meaningful, almost pleading look.

Orophin, on the other hand, walks in hesitantly, shooting nerves glances towards Rumil, and I wonder how Rumil took the news of Orophin deciding to stay in Imladris. By the tension I notice between them, it didn’t go exceedingly well.

I feel a bout of anxiety for my youngest brother.

The four of us gather in the seating area. Cosima babbles nervously, telling my brothers every minute detail of her day. They appear politely interested, but I know by the distant looks in both of their eyes that they are lost in their own worries.

No sense in dragging this out.

I can tell I surprise everyone when I take the spot on the couch next to Cosima rather than the empty armchair. My brothers freeze, exchanging a look. Cosima glances up at me, her eyes wide and nervous.

I take a deep breath. “Orophin, Rumil, I suspect you have been aware of my feelings for Cosima for quite some time. I discovered recently that she returns them, and we have committed ourselves to each other.”

Silence.

Rumil clenches his jaw. “Have you bonded?”

“No—“

“—then there is still time!”

“But I intend to,” I finish, hating the way my youngest brother visibly wilts at my words.

With wide eyes, Orophin glances between myself and Cosima. “My friend, you know I mean no offense, but—” he shakes his head, turning his whole focus to me. “Haldir you cannot tie yourself to a human. You will die.”

Cosima sucks in a sharp breath, eyes falling to the ground.

I take her hand in mine, keeping my gaze steady on my brother. “I know.”

“Then you are a fool!” Rumil’s shout shocks us all with its volume. He stands and grips the back of the chair, looking ill.

Orophin groans, resting his elbow on his knee and bringing a hand to rub at his temple. “You have to know how ridiculous this is. There are a thousand other elleth out there. Save your eternity and use it to find one you could love.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Could you leave Lavandil behind and search for another?”

Orophin grits his teeth. “That’s different. Our lives are compatible.”

“Are they? Though you are both eldar, your relationship is not without sacrifice. For years, the two of you sacrificed being with each other to continue your usual lives. Now, you’re sacrificing your home, your career, and your family because your love is worth it. Allow me the dignity to choose my own sacrifice.”

Orophin’s breath catches in his throat. His pained face falls into hopelessness, and he shrugs his shoulders. “So we are to resign ourselves to a handful of years left with you?”

In my hand, Cosima’s begins to shake.

I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss on its back. I address my brothers once more. “I have had over three thousand years in this world. I count myself blessed to spend the remainder of those days, however long they may be, in the company of those I love.”

Orophin’s mouth goes slack. He looks between Cosima and myself, and, vaguely, I wonder what sort of picture we paint. An elf and a human.

“I cannot say that I am not saddened by your choice, nor that I understand it. But if it has to be a human, then I am glad it is you, Cosima.” Orophin, Valar bless him, tries for a smile in Cosima’s direction. It’s strained and sad, but it’s an effort — one I am very thankful for.

Rumil hasn’t moved.

Cosima looks to him, worry in her eyes, and I remember how close she and my brother are. Right from the start, he has been one of her closest friends, and it must hurt her to be at odds with him, to know that something she can’t control is causing him pain.

When she speaks, her voice is fragile, vulnerable. “Rumil?”

He continues to grip the back of the chair and looks to the ground, avoiding our eyes. He grits his teeth. “Stay away from me, both of you.”

And he storms out of the room.

A/n Likes, comments, and reblogs are always cherished <3 Hope you’re doing well! (But its okay if you’re not!)

|next chapter|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist @that-cute-stranger

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff @sleepyamygdala @thranduilseyebrows

**Strikethrough means Tumblr won’t let me tag you :(**

[lemontwst]

crossing the line. ❤️ ace x m!reader

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: in which ace runs his mouth and then gets his cheeks clapped by an mc with immense big dick energy.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: ace trappola x m!reader

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.2k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: non-con to dub-con, revenge/hate sex, mentions of voyeurism, public sex, enemies to lovers, mc has magical devices he definitely should not be having, grim is not present in this particular scene. 

“You don’t even know about the Great Seven?—”

His malicious voice bounces around your skull like thunder, drowning out the rest of the world like you've suddenly plunged into deep, cold water.

“Are you that ignorant?"

Tranquil rage licks at your insides, your stomach twists with nausea and your hands twitch with the impulse to wrap around his neck.

“Maybe you should go back to kindergarden before thinking of coming to this school.”

Don't punch him. You dig half-moons in your palms, inhaling a deep, shaky breath. Your muscles tighten from the strain of holding yourself back, from resisting the urge to punch this idiot's face in and drag him across the boulevard by the hair. Your heart thump thump thumps against your ribcage like it wants to jump out of you. Don't punch him.

"Aww I'm sorry, did I offend you?" The redhead's features morph into an expression of cheap remorse. His hands clutch his chest like he's so heartbroken, then the joke is over and that obnoxious smirk curves his lips once more, "—just kidding. Why don't you go cry about it to your mom? You won't last long in this place if you can’t stand up for yourself.”

Your reach into your pocket and your fingers brush against one of the slips of paper Crowley gave you before you parted. Paralyzers, he called them. They look pretty useless to you — just a bunch of small, fragile talismans cut from some yellowed paper, but according to Crowley, these things can subdue weaker magical beings for a limited amount of time. The headmaster gave them to you predicting that you would end up in less than savory situations, being the only ordinary human in a school full of wizards, shapeshifters and God knows what else.

“The immobilizing effect will last for about ten minutes,” Crowley had mused as he handed you the talismans, “Do try to escape the situation before the time runs out, would you? It would reflect poorly on our beloved school if one of our students were to die, after all.”

Escape. You snort, your eyes slowly appraising the other student who is still mouthing off. This place still doesn’t know you’re not one to go down without a fight. You’d much rather cling to the monster that’s tearing you apart, digging your teeth in its flesh even as you bleed out all over the pavement than turn tail and run. The carrion on your skin is a hard enough shield, the rot that stains your soul a powerful balm that turns the sting of your wounds into repugnant adrenaline.

"...Anyways, unlike you I actually have classes to attend to," The redhead throws you one last condescending smirk before turning around and giving you a half-assed wave, "Have fun cleaning the halls, janito—"

The words catch in his throat as you stick the Paralyzer to his vulnerable back, grabbing him by the hair and throwing him not so gently behind the obnoxiously large statues and out of the open street. 

The student rolls a few times across the grassy side of the road, almost crashing into the flowerbeds that fence the statues off, then he finally lands on his back, coughing and spluttering more from the shock of the sudden fall than actual pain.

He quickly tries to hoist himself up, but his arms and legs feel boneless and he falls back down, eyes wide and panicked as a jolt of electricity runs him from head to toe. He tries to get up again, but it seems like the more he struggles, the weaker he becomes. The talisman saps every ounce of his energy in a matter of seconds, leaving him unable to do anything more than lay there, eyes to the sky as he tries to catch his breath.

"What—the fuck—did you do?!" He snaps, his crimson eyes filling with hate when you slowly enter his field of vision, blocking out the sunlight and hovering over him with disinterest written all over your handsome face.

His temples throb with the strain of his thoughts traveling at supersonic speed, his head hurts like he just slammed it against a wall, and the cold look in your eyes makes his stomach twist into tight knots in what he stubbornly decides to be fear—even as his skin starts to heat up like he's been sunburnt the longer you look down at him.

"Oh, you know…" You casually put one foot on his stomach and lean in, ignoring the long, pained gasp that scratches his throat raw, "Just thought I'd teach a cockroach in my path a little lesson. I was thinking of letting you go quietly, but all your whining really got on my fucking nerves." You step off of him and he twitches and coughs, trying and failing to curl into himself for some sort of comfort.

"...Ha...so what, are you just gonna beat me up?" He says, smirking through the pain as if he's used to it. You don't doubt it—his mouth has probably gotten him in trouble plenty of times before—but simply hitting him would be so boring. You kneel between his legs, spreading them apart with ease and his smirk falls, "Hey—what are you doing, you idiot?! Get off me!" You ignore him as he tries to squirm out of your grasp.

"Since you act like a little bitch..." You take his shoes off without untying them and throw them somewhere behind you, then you unbuckle his pants and do the same thing, slightly annoyed with the way he whines and struggles—as if he has any chance of wrestling you off when his body is about as responsive as jello, "I'm going to fuck you like one."

The redhead's breath stutters and he stops moving, looking at you like you just escaped the nearest psych ward, but the sudden flash of crimson that lights up his face and the subtle way his eyes fall to your crotch before quickly focusing back on your face betray just a smudge of confused desire—he's probably seen something like this in porn and he’s relieving it in his mind.

"W-we're in public, you bastard! Are—are you insane?! Get away from—" His brain slams on the brakes and his head empties like it's hyperspace.

A shocked gasp leaves his lips when you bring your index finger to the front of his boxers, lazily drawing a circle over the growing hardness beneath. His stomach clenches, ripples of pleasure seemingly falling from where you're touching him to pool in his belly like molten lava.

His breathing picks up the pace, loud and humid in his ears as his eyes stay on your hand like you've hypnotized him, "...H-hey, s-stop that—this isn't fucking funny—"

"Says you." You hum, stopping your slow circling on his now visible erection to finger the elastic band of his boxers. The intimate touch makes his muscles clench and his head fils with air, "I find the way you're sprawled on the grass with no pants on absolutely hilarious." He makes a sound between a shriek and a gasp when your fingers grab his cock and pull it out of his underwear.

This isn't happening. He looks at his cock standing out in the open with a horrified look on his face.

It's not happening—it's a dream—the thought of other students walking the boulevard and seeing him there, behind the statue of the Queen of Hearts, his erection out and his body unable to move makes bile pool in his mouth—and his dick throb, but he doesn’t have time to consider his fucked up reaction because you suddenly blow on his glans and his entire body spasms, his head hits the grass and his eyes find the clear, blue sky once again. He briefly registers the feeling of his underwear sliding off his legs. This isn't happening.

You ignore his useless protests and start unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it off his shoulders roughly but not quite taking it off -- the contrast of his pale, heaving chest and his flushed face as he lies helpless in front of you with his dick out almost makes you forget how irritated you are with him. Almost. But just because he’s cute doesn’t mean you’re not going to make him pay for daring to talk to you like you’re a piece of garbage on the side of the road.

You envelop his hard shaft with your hand and start pumping, slowly, letting him feel the soft texture of your palm and ignoring his pleas for you to wait. With every stroke his sensitivity increases, the thought of being caught flies away as if someone just blew in his skull and the redhead can only claw at the ground and pull at the grass with jerking fingers as a sweet voice starts spilling out of him.

It's just broken gasps at first, confused, scared and excited in equal measure—and then the world loses focus and it's full blown moans, little sighs that grow in volume the more you manhandle him. His shaft and your fingers become slick with precum and the movements become easier and smoother, the tingles in his crotch fly up his spine and he has to remind himself that this is wrong to keep himself from bucking up into your hand.

Stubborn as he is, he almost succeeds in resisting you. But you know just how to break him, allowing yourself a few seconds to listen to his cute moans while you wet your fingers, saliva dripping down your wrist as you methodically suck on the appendages as if they were the hard, leaking dick in your hand.

When you decide your fingers are wet enough, you bring them down to his ass and spread his cheeks to find that tight hole no one has ever touched before.

His entire body jolts when you start circling it, the sensation completely knew and so unexpected that he momentarily comes back to reality. "Wait—not there!" He tries to raise his head but his willpower leaves him when your middle finger draws a deep semi-circle around the rim.

It feels so fucking weird, he jerks his head this and that way as he tries to focus on the hand on his cock and the finger prodding at his hole at the same time. It's tingly and intense and he doesn't want it, his hot asshole parts under your push, welcoming you in a cavern of velvet, and the gasp that leaves him is the loudest one yet. 

"Relax, you little moron." You stretch him carefully, briefly wondering if he's going to come from your handjob before you even have the time to reach his prostate. He's so fucking tight, unused, pure and yet vulgar as he moans and twitches under your skilled hands.

You insert another finger in and his voice turns high-pitched, then you brush against that little button inside his ass—barely, just the ghost of a touch—and he falls off the edge, convulsing like he's been electrocuted and cumming all over himself.

His semen lands on his chest and jacket and as he slowly comes down from cloud nine, eyes glazed and drool on his chin, he briefly wonders how the fuck he's going to go back to his dorm with cum on his uniform. Then he feels you crawl on top of him and that thought too seems to dissolve into thin air.

No one can blame him for being unable to think, unable to act and, somewhere in the deepest recess of his mind, unwilling to move when you start stroking his sensitive dick again, your hair tickling his chin. He can feel how warm your body is and how nice you smell now that you're so close. If you weren't such a fucking demon it would almost feel nice.

"What's your name?" You exhale next to his ear and he shivers, feeling sick to his stomach when he realizes it's because he wants your lips on him.

"A-Ace…" He mutters, tilting his head away from you as much as he can. The white expanse of his neck is right there and you place a few slow, open-mouthed kisses on his vulnerable skin. Ace's heart does a fucking pirouette, little sparks of pleasure run down his abdomen and he lets out a soft moan, one he wishes he could stuff back in his mouth as soon as he hears it.

He feels the sudden urge to cling to you as he lets you kiss him everywhere. He wonders how it would feel to have your mouth draw a line from his collarbones to his stomach before you take his cock in your mouth and the thought alone makes his entire body tremble with need, little gasps leaving him as you lick the curve of his jaw and then blow on it.

"Ace." You growl his name against his skin and the vibration threatens to destroy the rickety dam that keeps his sanity in place. You're doing something unforgivable to him, fuck, Ace knows it and he hates you for it, but the way you say his name makes him so fucking glad to be born, glad to be lying in the grass like a slut with his pants discarded somewhere and your hand slowly stroking his cock.

"Fuck—don't say it like t-that…" He practically wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut as he focuses on the scorching waves of pleasure that pulse through his abdomen when you chuckle against his skin. This feels so fucking nice, one of his hands reaches down to grab your wrist while you continue to stroke him and he absentmindedly caresses your hand as you pump his cock.

He curses loudly as he takes in the hard curve of your knuckles and the wetness of your fingers. Your touch is different than what he's used to, rough but with a regular rhythm that pushes him closer and closer to his orgasm with every flick of your hand. You lazily nibble at his jaw and he suddenly finds himself overrun by the universally irresistible urge to come. Fuck, he's gonna come so hard in a hand that's not his own—

"S-so—sensitive—fuck, gonna cum all over your fingers—" His other hand grabs your shoulder in a way that almost feels too romantic given the situation, but Ace doesn't give a damn. The only thing that matters right now is your hand jacking him off and the trail of stars that dances behind his eyelids as you shatter his galaxy.

So close—so close—his moans become loud and shameless as he bucks up into you, ignoring how useless his body still feels because right now he really fucking needs to come again. 

The muscles in his abdomen tighten, hot white pleasure flashes in front of his eyes and Ace is so fucking ready when he arches his back, but instead of feeling relief, a tidal wave of frustration and disappointment crashes into his electrified body and his loud voice trails off in a pained whine as you suddenly take your hand off his dick, denying him the sweet mercy of orgasmic bliss.

The disparity between what he’s feeling and what he expected to feel is so vast it takes him a minute to realize what happened, the dam in his head breaks and he’s left gasping and sobbing and twitching, hands flying and grasping at the grass beneath him as he struggles to catch his breath.

"—What the fuck?!" He basically screams, looking at you with teary eyes and a face that screams betrayal, "W-why did you s-stop?! I told you I was close!" His chest heaves and he looks almost possessed when his own hand reaches for his abused, throbbing cock, fully intent on finishing the job one way or another.

You stop him before his fingertips even reach the shaft, meeting no resistance when you pin his hand back against the grass.

Ace glares at you but it's feeble and pathetic, the last remains of his rejection completely snuffed out by the shock of being denied an orgasm for the first time in his life. He doesn't look proud and hateful anymore; he’s now just a brat naked from the waist down, this close to crying because he didn’t get fucked the way he wanted.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you wanted me to stop? Did you change your mind, Ace?” The voice that whispered his name almost lovingly in his ears now drips with venom, almost as if you’re imitating the way he talked to you just a handful of minutes earlier.

Ace flinches, his heart sinks and he looks fucking crushed as he takes in your cold expression. You’re not going to stop, are you—? Not now that he actually wants you to touch him—?

“No...that’s not—I didn’t—” He splutters, flushing up to his ears when he realizes he doesn’t even know what he wants to say. Do you want him to beg? Because at this point Ace doesn’t really care enough to even object to that. He just wants you back on top of him. He wants to feel your warmth and have your scent fill his head while you bring him to his release again.

“Dont...be like that...come on,” He groans, letting his head fall to the ground. His dick hurts. His back hurts. Fuck, everything hurts, even his heart for some fucking reason. He doesn't like it when you look at him like you hate him. If anything he should be the one looking at you like that, not the other way around.

"Y-you want me to beg? Is that it?" Ace scoffs and weakly spreads his legs, leaving his cum-stained self complete exposed to your scrutiny. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but when his glazed eyes slowly go from your face to the tent in your pants, what you see in them is not disdain or shame, but pure, unbridled lust.

"You'll beg without me having to ask for it." Ace follows your hand as it goes to your belt, and when you unbuckle it, the soft, erotic click makes his body tremble and his heart flutter.

It's not like he wants to see it—his eyes stay on your crotch as you slowly pull your pants down, revealing the black underwear beneath.

Are you—are you going to pull it out? Out here where everyone can see?—Ace momentarily forgets that he's had his dick out in public for more than it's considered appropriate in every fucking country across the world. Every one of his thoughts comes to an abrupt halt, like he's suffered a concussion.

Except he hasn't, he's just drooling in his mouth at the thought of your cock.

"You don't get to come again, I told you you're going to be fucked like the little bitch you are." You finally pull your dick out, hissing when the air hits your feverish skin and Ace thinks he’s going to spontaneously combust.

The rush of heat that flares beneath his skin is unlike anything he’s ever felt and his slow mind has trouble comprehending whether he suddenly feels on fire because he can see your erection right in front of him or because of the sound you just made. Both. It’s probably both.

“Is that right…” He probably sounds as dazed as he feels—his breath catches in his throat when you lean down again, hovering over him but not quite touching him, the ghost of your breath on his lips threatening to turn him delirious.

You teasingly drag your wet erection across his stomach and Ace moans, his eyes falling shut when your dicks touch. He grinds up against you without thinking and suddenly his body is weightless and he's on the verge of coming all over himself. It feels like every nerve he has is experiencing its own little earthquake, the sound that leaves your lips makes his mind fall apart at the seams and the only thing he can say is a long, desperate "Fuuuck."

His eyes flutter open and he finds you smirking down at him; the sight is so surprising and so beautiful that Ace’s heart lodges straight in his throat.

"Turn around and raise your ass." You chuckle and he goes redder than his hair, but ultimately doesn't protest, waiting for you to give him some space before complying.

The sleeves of his uniform are completely ruined at his point, wet with dew and mud and grass as he pulls himself up on his elbows and gives you an expectant look from over his shoulder. 

What he doesn't expect is to feel your thick fingers push into him again. He almost falls face first into the dirt as he gasps, waist shaking as he's once again wrecked by the feeling of his rim being teased. 

You stretch him more insistently then before, the saliva and cum on your fingers aiding you in your preparations. You try to avoid his prostate, because Ace is already shaking like a leaf and you know how close he is to his climax, but your redhead seems to have had enough of being edged and insistently grinds back into your fingers until you touch that sweet spot inside him that makes his dick leak precum like a faucet. 

He's still not used to it however, and the shock of such an intense stimulation makes his elbows give out as he falls unceremoniously on his face. But he doesn't seem to care, cheek pressed against the grass and eyes squeezed shut as he experiences having his prostate massaged for the first time.

Fuck, he’s sure his legs are going to give out soon too. If just your fingers feel this good, what’s going to happen when you stick your dick in—? Is he going to lose his mind—? Somewhere along the line he seems to have completely forgotten that he's outside in broad daylight with his ass in the air. But even if someone were to see him getting fucked like a slut, would it really be so bad—?

"Hold on tight, stupid," You take your fingers out and he whines softly, sounding surprisingly disappointed for someone who has never had their ass played with before, "I'm gonna make sure you can never come just from touching yourself ever again."

You line your hard cock against his opening and Ace shivers from both anticipation and fear. You’re so big—is—is this gonna hurt? I mean, after everything you've done to him this should be a walk in the park, right—?

It isn't.

You slowly push your dick inside and Ace's first instinct is to scream.

His mind shatters into oblivion as he takes in the feeling of your thick cock stretching him like he's a fucktoy. But this is still nothing, you haven't done anything yet and he's already broken. You pull your hips back and thrust into him hard, your dick scrapes against his prostate and Ace falls into a state of euphoric delirium.

He was made for this, he thinks. Born with the sole purpose of being your slut, ass up and legs spread as he invites you to plow him harder, to mess up his head until your cock is the only thing he can think about. 

And he doesn't even know your name, Ace realizes as his body bounces back and forth against the grass with the force of your thrusts, his tongue lolls out and he tries his best to match your movements with his exhausted body, his hole squeezing your dick like it doesn't want to ever let go.

"Fuuuck—can we do this like…..every day from no—ah!—now on?!" He'll let you do anything you want if you promise to keep fucking him like he's your girlfriend. On his bed in front of his roommates, in class, on the headmaster's desk, anywhere you want him, Ace will be a good bitch for you.

In response to his nonsense you griiind into him and the explosive pleasure that flashes in front of his vision is almost seismic, devastating like nothing he's ever experienced as he breaks and cries and cums all over the grass, eyes rolling back when you roughly grab his hair and thrust a few more times before painting his insides white with your own release.

You make sure to fill him to the brim and Ace doesn't pull away. Instead he remains obediently glued to your crotch as the feeling of hot semen running down his legs completely obliterates his sanity.

Your nasty temper placated for the time being, you pull out in one swift motion and let his boneless body fall to the ground.

Ace groans and curses you under his breath, then he very slowly rolls onto his back, still dazed by the fact that you just came inside him.

If he thought everything hurt before, now he thinks he might actually need to pay a visit to the nurse's office. The effects of the Paralyzer have worn off by now but he's so fucking tired—he startles out of his drunk reverie when something like a curtain falls on his head. 

Except it's not a curtain, but his pants. He takes them off his face and gives you a weak glare as you adjust your belt.

"Wear a skirt next time," You throw him a smirk over your shoulder and Ace hates the way his heart quivers, "Like a good girl."

You barely have the time to dodge the shoe that comes hurtling towards your head, Ace quickly reaching for the other shoe when you start running back towards the school building.

 "Fuck you!—"

[rymndsmth]

querencia (jang han seo)

🎤 hello and gather around fellow himbo lovers, here is a small fic about our beloved and his life after That guy kicks the bucket. also idk how i managed to turn this into a love story? anyways lmfao, hope y’all enjoy! 

Everything felt so different.

Truthfully, Han Seo never imagined what his life could be like, would be like, without the proverbial ever tightening noose around his neck. One that had been unexpectedly and disappointingly placed on him as a child by the one person that was supposed to remove such things. He was now free of that person, and the fear that stemmed from veering off the path set by them, but wasn’t entirely too certain that he was free of that feeling. 

His muscles couldn’t shake it. The sudden chill to the bone, the anticipation of retaliation from an act that hadn’t yet occurred. Such an act that could never occur anymore given that his brother was dead. He knew this, but his mind had never been good at accepting possibilities that were positive. 

This much was evident in the case of his relationship with Vincenzo. There was no reason why the stoic yet baby faced Mafia member would want to keep him around, at least not any that he could see. So, Han Seo spent the first few weeks asking the question both silently and aloud, will you kill me? Vincenzo had the motive, it’s not exactly like his hands were clean in his previous dealings with Babel, and he most certainly had the means.

It wasn’t until Han Seo was told that because he was trying to make amends, he wouldn’t end up in the Jang family crypt well before his time that he started to feel at ease. Still, for months after that conversation, he still had the nagging feeling that some invisible fist was lurking around every bend. 

Regardless of that, Han Seo decided he would not waste his liberation however short lived it might have been. He made up his mind that he was going to do all the things that he was either too scared or outright forbidden to do before. The first thing on his list was to clean up his business. Luckily for him, the Guillotine file made it easy to weed out the snakes in the grass and allow him to steer Babel in the direction that the core of the business was about. 

The hardest part was going to be restoring the public’s faith in the organization. Cha Young told him as much, and advised him not to agonize over it as there will be new corruption that will grab their attention (and hers). He intended to be the Chairman that such a company deserved, and therefore continued to study no matter how nonsensical and outdated the information seemed. 

The second order of business was moving out of the place that felt more like a prison than a home to one that he liked. The realtor immediately recommended a few luxury places, but he turned them down to their surprise. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had seen what the quest for material wealth had done to his family (or more realistically because he wanted to be closer to newfound hyung  and his girlfriend). 

Either way, the house he settled on had its luxuries, but in a more affordable and quaint neighborhood. Han Seo even went as far as to attempt painting on his own, which went as well as expected for someone that didn’t even know the difference between a brush and a roller. 

Being able to do what he wanted proved to be chaotic at times. There was no one to stop him from going on last minute trips to Jeju just for oranges and a quick dip into the ocean. Or to take away all the sweet and savory snacks that he found at these things called convenience stores. 

He would stay up all night sometimes, not to binge watch all the shows he missed out on, but just to sit in silence. He didn’t know that the quiet could be so nice. That it was a space of tranquility and relaxation rather than one filled with anxiety. Of course, Han Seo more often than not regretted the choice not to sleep and ended up at the cafe a few blocks from his place. 

While obviously no one had better coffee than the one at Babel, he found himself going to the cozy spot with increasing frequency because of her. The first time he saw her, she was deciding on which apple to choose from the basket beside the register. He then noticed that her canvas bag was filled with art supplies, and decided that it was a brilliant idea to draw a conclusion. 

I think the one to the right would make a great subject on paper, he grinned. 

She stared at him in a way that made him contemplate whether to not she was related to Vincenzo hyung before replying flatly:

I’m looking for the tartest one to go with my tea. 

He was left a bumbling mess of flustered sounds and rapidly blinks, not getting the opportunity to insert some retort that undoubtably would’ve put him deeper into the realm of idiot. 

The following morning he went again. No cup of coffee, not even the ridiculously overpriced espresso at Babel, would give him that jolt of electricity he felt under her gaze. And sure enough, she was there. This time her apple sat upon a folded napkin right beside her tea, and in front of them both was her sketchpad. On the page? A picture of the fruit. He couldn’t control the noise of exasperation that left him as he passed her table. On his way out he tossed over his shoulder with a grin so wide it hurt:

Nice drawing. 

Their interactions continued in that same vein. Short, filled with just the right amount of bite. The balance of who had the best and last say constantly shifting, becoming somewhat of a competition. 

You’re outside today, is that weed your subject?

As if there weren’t enough clowns in this neighborhood already.

You buy a lot of lattes for an artist that’s supposed to be starving.

Ironic coming from the gentrifier walking around a working class neighborhood in thousand dollar shoes.  

He had look up what that g word meant after their last exchange.

There was something else he never got to do in his past. Sure, Han Seo had the occasional date or two, but commitment? That was out of the question. It wouldn’t have served his brother well if there was anyone around that would motivate him to step out from his hold. The realization that he never had a serious relationship hadn’t hit him until he started to have inconvenient thoughts during board meetings about stuff like taking a long afternoon stroll, and holding hands with her.

Han Seo could barely focus on the stack of jargon dense reading before him. He sent Vincenzo a text saying that he was coming over with soju, not waiting for a reply before making the short journey to Geumga. Cha Young’s face fell when she answered the door, muttering that she thought he was her delivery, but lit up once she saw he brought along alcohol. After poking around the rice he begged for them to share and sighing loudly for half an hour, Vincenzo ushered him out. He implored him to get a hobby so that these late night visits wouldn’t become a habit.  

He was confused by that. Weren’t studying and running a company hobbies? On his walk back home he spotted a flyer that someone was offering private classes for beginners painting. The nightmare of a time he had trying to get the walls in his kitchen evenly colored popped up in his brain, instantly making him tear off one of the numbers. He didn’t exactly know how learning to paint homes was going to be a practical hobby, but hell, he would have something to show Vincenzo later. 

While he was on one of his impromptu trips to the seaside, Han Seo had his assistant set up the class for him to take when he returned. As a gift for the instructor, he thought it would be nice to bring them an extra bag of oranges. If the session sucked, or if he hated it, at the very least there was going to be something to brighten the mood. 

The day he got back, he even went as far as to tidy up the place on his own and put some fresh flowers around so the air was lightly scented. He practically waited at the door until the alarm sounded to let him know that his instructor arrived. 

Is this a joke? She huffed.

No, I didn’t even know you were the teacher! His protest was adamant. I was on a trip and even brought back Jeju- He paused. Han Seo knew he wasn’t the brightest, but bringing up the oranges seemed like it would upset her given their previous history. 

You brought back what? Her brow raised.

Mmm, good energy! Don’t you feel the vibes from the ocean? He spread his arms wide. 

Han Seo waved her inside hurriedly, trying desperately to get past the awkward exchange. Of all people, he never would’ve thought it would be the neighborhood’s cute sass machine. A small noise of happiness couldn’t be stopped from escaping him as she accepted the invitation. Her eyes scanned the place without restraint, nose wrinkling when she took a look at the kitchen. 

Where are your supplies? A slender finger ran across the surface of his counter. 

Supplies? He thought that was included in the price for the lessons. 

She sighed, placing a sketchbook, brushes, and small pots of paint onto the table. It was now very apparent to him that the advertisement did not mean what he thought it did. Thank goodness he also didn’t decide to open his mouth about that beforehand, it probably would’ve made her smack him with her bag. 

Here, the materials were slid over when he sat. Paint something.

His facial expression surely mirrored what he was thinking. Han Seo had no recollection of ever trying to do this, not even during the course of his way overpriced private school education. She urged him on with a nod, only relaxing into her chair when he flipped open the book and picked up a fine brush. 

There was nothing in particular he wanted to paint. Hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted to paint at all. This was simply something random that came up when he needed it. 

To avoid being chastised, he dipped his brush into the light blue color and started swiping randomly across the blank page. He swapped the brush and added some dark green, then pink, and finished if off with small dots of white. At the end it looked like something a toddler would’ve considered a masterpiece. She eyed it with surprising interest. 

You clearly didn’t know what you wanted to achieve with this, or why you were doing it at all. 

Han Seo was about to interject with a prideful defense before she continued. 

That’s good. It’s better to work with an unbiased mind. Her eyes met his. Your technique is shit though. 

He laughed, like truly laughed. It was a full bellied, unashamedly loud, attack of sonic waves. She seemed to find it amusing, a hint of a smile dancing across her lips. 

Alright, let’s start with how to actually hold a paintbrush. 

There was no telling when their interactions had gone from less than playful banter to warm and friendly (still with a side of joking). Han Seo couldn’t put his finger on it. Did it happen during the second lesson where he mistakenly put paint on her hands, and didn’t settle for no when he said he would wash them off for her? 

Or was it the time he was running late for work, but the barista already had his order prepared because she told them that he was on the way? Perhaps it was the time she had to reschedule their Saturday morning for the evening instead, and all he could think about was trying to replicate the color of her alcohol flushed cheeks onto the page before him. 

Han Seo had never done the whole confession thing before, so he wasn’t sure about how it worked. An unfamiliar kind of anxiety crept up his spine as he poured glasses of wine and organized a fruit plate. Soft music played in the background accompanied by the crackle of the expensive candles he bought specifically for the occasion. Her mouth parted slightly as she took everything in once she arrived for what was supposed to be an ordinary session involving watercolors. 

Wow, got a hot date later or something? Her legs seemed to automatically take her to the table. 

Actually, He brought the glasses over to where she sat. It’s for you. 

Oh…She gasped. A few seconds passed that felt more like minutes before she picked one up and held it high. Cheers then!

Something about it made him feel like he made a mistake. Did he misread their change in demeanor towards one another? Was she truly just being kinder to him because she considered him to only be a friend? Han Seo tried to not let the embarrassment he felt seep into the room, keeping a smile locked and loaded for when she made a witty remark about stuff like him painting in the most inappropriate white button down. 

Don’t you have something to say to me? She quipped, neatly putting her things away after he finished. 

Me? I- no…I... He clenched his fists. Why couldn’t he come out and say it?! This was as good as a chance as he was ever going to get. If he let this opportunity slip, he wasn’t sure if there would be one again. He had to act, he had to-

What sounded like a small growl came from her as she raked her hand through her hair. She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, her nose just shy of rubbing against his. 

Jang Han Seo, when are you gonna stop driving me insane? She murmured, labored breaths dancing across his cupid’s bow. 

If only she knew how true and reciprocated that question was to him too. From the moment he couldn’t fight against thoughts about her entering his mind, to the smile she wore when he stepped across his threshold, and the way she said his goddamned name, it was all enough to make him want to combust. To burst out of his skin, transforming into something or someone else entirely. A person that fully accepted that there were no more restraints on their lives, that they was no more fear and no more betrayal. Someone that was completely in control, and free to take what was theirs. And so he did. 

It was painful, almost, the first time he kissed her. The second time even more so. By the third time, coupled with the question of her tongue prodding at his bottom lip, Han Seo had shedded the last of his previous being. He cupped her face, thumbs toying with her curled sideburns as he consumed her. Quiet whimpers made way for desperate cries, shivers were replaced by the searing heat of skin on skin. 

The high he’d chased fruitlessly so many times throughout his life was finally achieved with his arms wrapped tightly around her, their bodies pressed together as she shuddered and sighed his name. He was in disbelief that what he had experienced was real, so he chased it again and again, receiving the same result each time his sweat slicked forehead bowed to meet hers. 

Han Seo would learn that it could be obtained outside of that space they filled with the tangible evidence of their desire. It was also in buying melon flavored ice pops to eat in the park together on sunny days. The look on Vincenzo and Cha Young’s face when he timidly made the introduction. Her expression when she took her first bite of Hee Soo’s tteokbokki. When Mr. Nam and her had an hour long debate on which shade of red made the most realistic fake blood color. The flashing Best Chairman Ever coming from her phone when Babel secured their biggest deal yet without any dirty deals behind the scenes. 

That feeling, one that outshone the other by such a long shot that it was nearly eradicated, had been there all along in the life he’d made. She just helped him see it.  

[writingdumpsite]

Of silence and mermaid’s voice (g.w.)

Summary: George still has to meet the girl who works in the music shop in front of  Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

Pairing: George Weasly x fem!Reader

Words: 2k

A/N: just pure fluff because don’t think I’ve ever read of music shops in Diagon Alley

At that time of the day, few people wander in Diagon Alley. Probably because the sun has yet to completely rise and most shops are still closed. And though there’s a light breeze, George Weasley loves roaming along these streets he knows so well. Because of his hectic job, he has started to wake up way before Fred to enjoy the quietness of the early morning. Every morning he wakes up, gets dressed, has breakfast and then spends the rest of his free time walking. All this in complete silence.

When he was at Hogwarts he couldn’t stand the silence and everything that came with it. It meant that the class was taking a test and everyone needed to be quiet. Over the years, George had also started to associate it with trouble because in a school with hundreds of student, it was uncommon to hear silence.

As he approaches his shop, ready to start another day, George comes to the realisation that he likes the silence that every morning welcomes him. It’s the moment of the day where he can think without the fear of being interrupted. Where he can appreciate everything that surrounds him. Every day, since he has started waking up early, he’s happier. More focused on what he has to do, and at night he goes to bed calmer, ready to start over the next day.

All his thoughts come to an end the moment someone passes him and goes towards the music shop in front of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. His eyes follow the figure as he finally takes a look at the shop, almost worried. Usually, it is already open when he reaches his joke shop but it’s not today’s case. The lights inside are still off and the usual soft music is replaced by the same silence that accompanies him every morning. As he stops on the doorstep of his shop, George can’t help but observe the figure. Now inside the shop, he is surprised to notice that the someone switching the lights on is a girl, a rather attractive one. So he spends the next few minutes looking at the good-looking girl, hoping not to be caught. It wouldn’t be the first time. And the silly yet constant fear of never finding someone to love starts to resurface the more he stares at the girl in the music shop. It seems like everyone around him is ready to take the next steps in their lives, finding partners, settling down and making a family of their own. And it isn’t that George doesn’t feel ready or isn’t friendly enough to socialize. In fact, George Weasley is exactly the type of guy who can strike a conversation with any living being in a room. The truth is, he doesn’t have time for love right now. If he isn’t refilling the shelves f the shop, he’s perfecting new inventions or doing paperwork or talking to investors. And when he eventually gets a day off, he usually spends it catching up with his family and close friends or with his sleeping schedule.

He’s sure he has never seen her before because he could never forget someone as gorgeous as her. Soft hair and welcoming eyes, or at least those are the things that have attracted George in the first place. Though he needs to head into the shop, he feels like he can’t wait to learn something more about the mysterious girl. He has this strange urge to approach her and introduce himself, to make sure she knows who he is. He's also wondering what her hair smells like and if it is as smooth as he imagines.

“Already in love with the lovely Y/N?” asks Fred from behind him and George is suddenly brought back to reality. How long has he been staring at the girl? She’s now nowhere to be seen and he can’t help but wonder if his gaze went unnoticed. He hopes so, otherwise, he will never be able to look at the girl in the eyes.

“Y/N? Is that her name? How do you know her? When did you meet her? Why didn’t I know about her existence?” questions are so quick to escape his lips. But he doesn’t give Fred time to answer as he enters the joke shop and starts getting everything ready for the day. George is confused because they are brothers. Or better, they are twins and best friends. They have always shared everything so what exactly has he missed? Of course, Fred would tell him if he dated someone, wouldn’t he? He hasn’t even noticed his face going from pale to red but he definitely feels the warmth spreading across it. A loud laugh is all that comes from his twin’s mouth.

“I’ve always thought you were not one of those who could fall for a girl with just one look.” Fred is trailing behind him, joking. “And to answer your questions, I met her last week. Do you remember those delicious biscuits we ate one night? Well, that day she saw me outside the shop and gave me some. She told me she had baked too many and didn’t know what to do with them.” concludes Fred before going behind the register, leaving his twin alone. George sighs in relief, happy to know that the assumptions he has made in his mind are not true. Now happier, George goes towards his office.

George is not surprised when he reaches his shop the next morning and finds the music shop already open. Of course, that morning was an exception for the girl. But now that he knows about her existence, he can't simply forget her and go on with his life. So, like the day before, he observes her from his doorstep. It doesn’t take long for Y/N to catch him staring at her. And if George makes every effort to hide, she smiles wide and waves at him from her spot in the shop.

One day he notices her clothes are colourful and comfy. He believes that long skirts aren't the most practical ones to work in but the way she wears them makes every move seem effortless. Another day, he focuses on her behaviour around the shop and on the way she treats customers. From his spot, he can only see how she uses her arms and her hands to talk to people. And the passion for her job makes her eyes sparkle with joy. But it’s on a warm and sunny day that he seriously starts to think he may already have developed feelings for Y/N without even knowing her. While waiting for Fred outside the shop to have lunch together, George starts to hear strumming from the music shop. It’s almost inaudible but it’s there, light and constant. He knows it's her. He knows she's the only one in the shop that day. After some seconds, a voice follows and George cannot believe he has lived for so long without a sound so sweet. He remembers from some muggle book about Greek mythology he has read, that mermaids use their voices to attract men and kill them. He wouldn’t be surprised if he found out Y/N is one of them. He's so fascinated that starts to ponder the pros and cons of not eating lunch at all to listen to her. If Fred doesn’t come out now, I’ll go see what she’s doing. He’s repeating the sentence like a mantra, too hesitant to act. Fred joins him after only a couple of minutes so he has to put his plan aside.

As the day goes on, George keeps repeating to himself that he should at least introduce himself if she has already met Fred. In his head, he tries not to plan their first real meeting. But he knows he’s failing miserably. That night, the only thing he does is tossing and turning because of the thousand scenarios that alternate in his dreams.

Because of the terrible night, George is not exactly in a good mood the next day and not even his usual walk seems to help. He also notices that Y/N is not in the shop (and if she is, he can’t see her) and that only makes his mood worse. So he decides that he'll focus on his shop. It’s only at lunch that he manages to go outside to enjoy some fresh air. And like the day before his attention catches the sound of strumming coming from the music shop. This time Fred isn’t here to stop him and before he can think about it too much, George crosses the street and enter the music shop.

Stepping inside, he thinks that he has never seen a shop this beautiful. It’s so much more colourful than his and Fred’s, though he must admit that it is more chaotic. But Y/N doesn't seem to notice him because the strumming doesn't stop. Instead of drawing attention to him, George starts wandering around the maze of shelves and instruments. He’s never been into music, even though he knows the most famous artists. His focus has always been on pranks and how not to get in trouble for that.

“Has anything caught your attention?” Y/N has suddenly appeared behind him, making him jump at her words. George isn’t the type of guy to get clumsy easily. The initial redness on his cheeks spreads further on the rest of his face when he turns around to face the girl. Struck by the girl's beauty and the sudden closeness, he knocks a whole shelf of books and music supplies down.

“Merlin, I didn’t mean to...” he tries to apologize but Y/N is quick to show him a warm smile. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she says before taking her wand out to put everything back in its place. “Besides,” she continues once she’s finished “I’ll take it as a sign that I have to rearrange the shelves”. She chuckles after the last sentence and proceeds to lead George somewhere a little more spacious. All this time, George remains silent. He admires first the precision used to tidy up and then the grace with which she carries herself around the shop. He’s aware that the girl works there, so of course, she's familiar to every corner. But he’s entranced nonetheless by the way her hips sway trying not to bump into anything.

“So, is there anything I can help you with?” Y/N asks once they have reached the front of the shop. What is George supposed to answer? Oh, I wanted to see the gorgeous girl who plays the guitar so well. Or Oh, nothing, I just wanted to come in and say “hello” and apologize for staring at you from afar. That wouldn’t be a strong beginning, would it? Instead, he introduces himself as “the twin who you still haven’t met”.

“It’s a shame I only have seen you from my shop, you seem like nice” he adds. The girl laughs at his words, throwing her head back. Her laugh so contagious that in a matter of seconds George finds himself laughing with her.

“Well, I’m quite busy here, you know? And if I'm not here, I'm teaching. You know, how to play the guitar and stuff. It’s a miracle I manage to wake up early and open the shop on time. I’m such a heavy sleeper.” from that moment conversation between the two flows so easily. And when he goes back to his shop, George wonders why he hasn’t introduced himself before. Y/N is so easy to talk to and in the short time spent together, he has discovered so many things about her. From her favourite colour to all the details of her dream house. He now knows her parents' names and how she takes her tea in the morning. She has told him all about her passion for music and how she has learnt how to play the guitar.

George feels so good once he's in his office again. He can’t even hide the huge smile on his face and it’s only when Fred notices something out of the ordinary that he’s brought back to earth,

“Why did you buy a guitar?!” Fred’s voice can be heard from outside the shop.

“She’s so passionate about music, I couldn’t leave the shop without buying something!” is all George can answer because now that he thinks about it, he’s not sure either why he has a guitar in his office. Though he’s sure, he’ll pay Y/N another visit to ask her to teach him how to play it.

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Two Bros Chilling in A Hot Tub/Lightning Struck

Summary: Freed knew he had a lot to learn about being a professional wizard, and when he was paired up with Laxus for a mission he expected to learn a lot. He didn't expect to spend a day with him in a hot tub, and he certainly didn't expect to get an entirely unrelated education about life and about love.

Notes: Hello everyone, happy Fraxus Week. For the two bonus days, I've murged the prmopts together to make a two-shot. The second chapter will be uploaded on July the 22nd. I hope you all enjoy it, and head over to @fuckyeahfraxus to see all the other content for the event.

Links: Chapter Two ||| Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Chapter One

Year: X782

Location: Magnolia, Fiore

Professional Wizardry was still new to Freed. He hadn't wandered into the profession without the expectation that he'd be forced to do things that previously would have been unthinkable, or that his life wouldn't change entirely the moment he had joined a guild, but he felt like he was learning a new aspect to his profession every day. His expectations of the job and the reality of the job was almost entirely different, and Freed found himself enjoying the challenge.

He'd thought he'd be on missions near constantly. He'd go to some place in Fiore, use his magic to fight off a monster or dark wizard, and get paid for it. He hadn't expected there to be a community attached to it, that they'd be such a rigid tier system of missions, and how missions could be anything from finding a lost item, to being on a team attempting to disband a cult. There was so much more, and it was all fascinating.

After his eighteenth birthday three months prior, the jobs that he was allowed to accept had greatly opened up. They were more difficult, presented him with a greater threat to his life, and he was relishing the challenge. He could have gone on those missions earlier, but he much preferred working alone. While he was accepting that being in Fairy Tail meant there was a certain level of comradery with fellow guildmates, and that with that comradery there also came obligations, he didn't see the point in splitting his finances with others while he was powerful enough to perform these missions on his own and take home all the money himself.

The exception to this was Laxus Dreyar.

Master Makarov had approached Freed on his birthday with a proposition. He was worried for his grandson, wanted someone to look after him, and wondered if Freed would mind occasionally attending missions with him. He claimed that, while officially the money would be split between them, Makarov himself would make up the difference for Freed so that he would be paid in full. Freed had agreed, and that had been that.

Up until that afternoon, Freed had not gone on any missions with Laxus. They'd hardly spoken, even with Makarov's assurances that they'd get along. Freed would only be on certain missions and that afternoon's mission was apparently one of them. Makarov told Laxus Freed needed training in more advanced missions, and that he should be the one to do it. Laxus hadn't argued.

Somehow, while attending to a supposedly A-Class mission, they found themselves in Magnolia's hot spring and spa resort.

It was surveillance, so the mission stated. The Rune Army themselves had place the job, stating that they believed that members of a potential dark guild were using the site to host meetings and plan attacks. The resort had been trying to get rid of the suspects but couldn't do so without putting their staff in danger, and having an army presence suddenly appearing would tip the dark guild off and give them time to hide all evidence. The Rune Army wanted mages from Magnolia who could plausibly be in the spa for leisure time, but could also defend themselves from attack, to watch them for suspicious activity. Freed had a feeling that Laxus had taken the job to have a day relaxing in a spa, rather than because he felt the Rune Army needed the help.

None of this would have been a problem for Freed – he'd long since accepted that what constituted a job was a wide array of things – if it weren't for the elephant in the room. Or to be more precise, the Adonis wearing nothing but swimming trunks in the room.

Freed was a professional, but he was also eighteen years old and in the presence of an undeniably handsome man. Nobody, no matter their opinions on Laxus, would state that he was anything but sexy. Tall, blonde, square jawed, barrel chested with a scar over his eye and a tattoo over his pecs. His abs looked to be cut from steel and his legs comparable to tree trunks and, well, Freed was only human. Laxus was distracting.

"So," Laxus suddenly spoke as he slung a towel over his shoulder. "I don't exactly know what Gramps wants you to learn from this, but I'll try and teach ya some shit. Surveillance rule number one: fit in with yer surroundings. You seem pretty good at that."

It was only a moment, but Laxus' assessing gaze over Freed's body was exhilarating. But unprofessional.

Laxus didn't seem to notice, and instead started to walk out of the locker room they'd both changed in, and towards the area where they were meant to be watching. Freed followed, making sure to look straight ahead, rather than give into temptation to check out the man's back and his ass, and it wasn't a difficult task. While Freed had no qualms admitting his attraction to the blonde, he knew where his focus needed to be put. The mission was important, not his hormonal desire for his guildmate.

"That's the door we need to watch," Laxus said as he tilted his head to the door. Freed knew that of course, but Laxus was speaking again before he could say anything. "Pretty open room, lots of vantage points. Where should we go?"

Ah, it was a test then. Good, a worthy distraction and hopefully it would nip any ideas that Freed was in some way Laxus' inferior in the bud. Freed looked around the room quickly, glanced towards the door that they needed to keep in their sights, and quickly made a plan of how the rest of the day would go. Strategy was his strong suit.

"The hot tub," He said firmly. "At least for now."

"Why only for now?" Laxus asked. There was no condensation in his tone, he was simply asking for Freed's reasoning.

"Staying in the same place throughout the afternoon would be suspicious. We know who the suspects are, but that doesn't mean they're the only people involved, so we need to look like regular customers constantly," Freed explained, speaking quietly as they walked further into the room. "As we've only just got here, it makes sense for us to use a facility instantly. Going to sit by the pool or at the juice bar would be odd, at least for now. The massage tables and spa treatments are too distracting, but the hot tub allows us to sit and watch without anyone questioning it. It'll give us the lay of the land without drawing any attention on us."

"And we both have to do it?" Laxus probed. "Wouldn't it make more sense to split up and cover more ground.

"Later," Freed dismissed. "We came in together; we'll need to do things at the same time at least once in a while. As I said, the treatments are distracting and as such we should do them one at a time rather than simultaneously. If we spend the whole day apart after we've arrived together, it'll raise suspicion. The hot tub is a good vantage point, and so a good way to be seen together while not losing an advantage."

Laxus thought for a moment, before nodding, clasping Freed on the bare shoulder, and giving him the smallest of grins. "Yer good at this."

"Of course I am," Freed retorted, and that seemed to make Laxus grin wider.

They walked towards the hot tub, which was at the back wall, attached to the main pool. As it was a Tuesday afternoon, only a few people were loitering around the resort and the hot tub was empty. Freed placed his towel on the handle provided and walked into the hot tub, soaking his entire body sans his head in the hot, bubbling water. His muscles relaxed instantly, and he felt himself slinking down ever so slightly.

"You ain't here to relax," Laxus said in a voice almost teasing as he climbed the stairs into the tub. "Eyes on the mission, remember."

Freed went to point out that, given Laxus was looking at him rather than at the door, he was just as distracted. But Laxus chose that moment to sit down, submerging his chest in water and spreading his arms wide. His left hand was close to Freed's shoulder, and Freed felt that it was an act of great resilience that he didn't give into base urges and watch Laxus as he adjusted to his relaxed, wet – very very wet – state.

"I will if you will," Freed eventually said back, looking towards the door. He missed how Laxus' gaze lingered on his body just a little too long.

They fell into silence, and Freed made a genuine effort to keep his gaze away from the man who shared the hot tub with him. He truly hadn't thought this through. He hadn't realised that, as good as Laxus looked from afar, he looked better up-close. Maybe he should have denied the request to join the mission. And maybe he should have worn a looser swimsuit…

"So," Laxus said after a while, looking up at the ceiling for a moment to crack his neck. "How much is the old man paying you to spy on me?"

Freed halted, and removed his eyes from the door and looked towards Laxus. His face only, of course. "Excuse me."

"Rule two, you gotta trust the guys you're working with. So don't bullshit yer team members," Laxus said with a little grin. "Answer the question."

"For every mission that I do with you, he'll cover all the money you take from it, so I'm fully paid," Freed explained. He saw no point in lying.

"Guess we're gonna be doing some well-paying missions together then, if we wanna bleed the old bastard dry," Laxus smirked, and it was an oddly alluring look on the man. Freed looked away from it, and towards the door again. "You gonna tell him that I'm onto him?"

"I'd rather keep the deal up, I can get good money doing this," Freed shrugged, and he saw Laxus grinning a little from the corner of his eye. He tried not to pay attention to the expression, and instead focused on a man who could fit the description of a suspect. The man walked past the door, but that didn't mean he wasn't who they were looking for. "Why did you agree to this if you knew your grandfather wants reports on you?"

"Because it's gonna happen anyway, might as well accept it," Laxus shrugged. "I knew he was gonna get someone to do it, kinda glad that it's you."

"Why?"

"Because yer interesting," Laxus said, looking up at the ceiling again and closing his eyes as he lowered himself deeper into the water. Freed's gaze flickered low on the man's abs for a moment before looking to the door again. "We get a hell of a lot of mages joining Fairy Tail. Lots of people who think they're tough shit and wanna become the next powerhouse. Yer the only person I think whose got a chance of actually doing it."

The compliment was flattering. Laxus had something of a reputation for being generally rude and selfish, and either they were exaggerated or Laxus was making an exception. Freed felt it was a combination of both, but he accepted the compliment without complaint.

"You know my magic?" He asked.

"I've been keeping tabs on you since you came here, yer interesting," Laxus nodded, wading a hand through the water absently and sending ripples through the bubbles. "People give the darker magics a lot of shit. They're idiots. You can kick ass, and you're not bad to be around. Pretty much the opposite of a Fairy Tail mage right now."

"Does that opinion extend to you?"

"What d'you think?" Laxus asked with a cocky expression that Freed found himself enjoying.

"I wouldn't be here if I thought you weak."

"Good."

They fell into a silence, with the bubbling water warming Freed and making his muscles loose and relaxed. He kept a steady gaze on the door, making sure to avert his eyes when someone walked into the room, so his staring wasn't too obvious. It was a worthy distraction, and one well needed now that Laxus had apparently been watching him for all of eight months. That, combined with the fact that Laxus was wearing swimming trunks and was less than five feet away, could all become rather an issue if Freed didn't focus on anything else.

"Okay, your turn to relax now," Laxus said, cutting through Freed's thoughts. His voice was a little more relaxed. "You can't stay lookin' at the door all day. You'll get a crick in the neck."

"I'll be fine," Freed dismissed.

"Doesn't matter," Laxus stated, shifting slightly to get closer to Freed. It was to get a better view of the door, but the body heat that rivalled the warmth of the water was a noticeable feeling and Freed tensed. "Rule Three: lean on yer teammates. Sometimes you'll need to slack off, that ain't something to fight against. So long as someone in the team is on full alert it isn't too bad a problem. So sit back, close yer eyes, and let me take over for a while."

Freed was hesitant, but Laxus was clearly taking over keeping his gaze on the door, and Freed eventually found himself sliding down to further cover his body in water, and closed his eyes as relaxation flowed through him.

When his mind began to slip, Freed found himself thinking that Laxus was actually rather helpful. Freed wasn't quite so arrogant to think he knew everything about wizarding work, and an S-Class mage would have things to teach. Laxus especially would be useful to learn from, given their apparently similarities in working styles. Freed would need to learn how to work in a team, even if it wasn't fond of the idea, and Laxus might know how to offer actual advice rather than pointless mantras like 'your team should be your family' and other nonsense he'd heard from Fairy Tail. Without lying about why he was there, his team-ups with Laxus might be mutually beneficial.

Perhaps relaxing wasn't too bad an idea, either. Freed's mind had been somewhat consumed by his work. Finding a place to live as a seventeen-year-old had been difficult, and he'd put in a lot of effort in getting rent on time. But now he got better paying jobs, that urgency could fall away a little.

With a bit of effort, he tried to push the fact he was on a job to the back of his mind.

Once this whole thing was dealt with, maybe he would invest in a pass for the resort. In his preliminary research for the mission, he'd heard good things about the facilities, and even though he'd only been in the hot tub as of yet, he felt inclined to agree.

Though perhaps Laxus' company was partially to blame for his mood.

Fairy Tail had sometimes felt like a lonely place. Their focus on friendship, family and their revoltingly sentimental ideas about goodness were nice in principle, but when you were on the outside looking in it could get under your skin. Freed knew he was at fault for his lack of relationships with his guildmates, but perhaps Laxus might be a good starting point. Ironic, given that nearly everyone had told him Laxus was off-putting and rude.

The bubbles sent a pleasant chill over him, and Freed felt his tenseness ebbing away. When he got a pass for the resort, he'd have to explore the idea of a massage. He'd never thought it appealing, but perhaps he could be convinced.

There wouldn't be much convincing needed if Laxus were the one massaging him.

"Shit," Laxus hissed, and Freed's eyes whipped open. A rush of panic filled him that somehow he might have said that aloud, but the idea was ridiculous. He looked to Laxus to see worry flickering over him. "The suspect saw me looking, I think he went to get backup."

"Are you sure?" Freed asked, mind suddenly back on focus again.

"No, but we made eye contact. He's suspicious of me," Laxus was clenching his teeth, seemingly annoyed at himself. "We can't fuck it up, the Rune Army don't take shit like this lightly. We need a distraction or to get out."

"A distraction will be easier," Freed concluded. "Does he know for sure that we're looking out for him?"

"I wasn't being careful. I was watching him for about a full minute without being subtle. Pretty sure he knows it's not a passing glance."

"But that doesn't mean you know what he's doing, it just means you were looking at him," Freed mused aloud. "What if we throw him off the scent, give him another reason for why you were so focused on him."

"The hell would that be?" Laxus growled a little, and Freed scanned the room. They were the only two people in there now.

"Maybe you wanted him gone," Freed thought, plans forming in his head. Many of them he had to dismiss outright. "Perhaps if he sees something he wasn't meant to see, he'll think you were looking at him because you wanted him to leave."

"What the hell would I wanna do that I wouldn't want him seeing?" Laxus snapped, agitation rising. An idea came to Freed. It was good, it would get them out of the situation no doubt, but it might have a few repercussions in the future. Many arguments both for and against it flung through his mind, and his indecision must have been obvious, as Laxus continued talking a moment later. "Rule four, if a mission's going to shit and you think you can salvage it, you do it. So if you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them."

Freed went to open his mouth to explain his idea, but he heard movement from across the room and glanced towards the door. It was opening, and two more suspects were walking through it, stone-faced and angry.

Before he could second guess himself, he launched himself onto Laxus and began to kiss him.

It was a sloppy, energetic, and passionate kiss. Laxus was frozen for a few moments, but Freed forced himself to push on in the hope that Laxus was trying to understand what was happening. Laxus quickly started to kiss back, and a hand ran down Freed's back, pulling him close. Freed began to mess his hands through Laxus' hair, heart pounding and a ringing in his ears cutting through his panic. He couldn't think of how bad an idea this was, about how there were probably hundreds of other ways to deal with this, because rumours stated that the dark mages were powerful, and he didn't want to get into a fight he could avoid.

Kissing wasn't enough for his plan. People kissed all the time. They needed to get… intimate. Freed began to run his hands over Laxus' torso – damn was he strong – and he felt large hands groping at his ass in return. He gasped into the kiss, and forced himself to remember that it was just for the mission.

The sound of a door closing snapped him back to reality, and he glanced to the side without breaking the kiss to see the suspects had left. He pulled himself off of Laxus, to find he'd been dragged so he was straddling the man's thigh at some point, and turned away with a blush, panting quietly.

"Good plan," Laxus said, voice also breathless. "Think it threw them off."

"Yes," Freed agreed. He couldn't look towards Laxus now. He simply couldn't. "I'm sorry for doing-"

"Don't, you did what you had to do," Laxus cut him off, voice somewhat stern, which wasn't helping the situation. "I would've done the same if I thought of it, and you fixed my fuck up. So no complaints."

"Okay," Freed didn't feel any better. He stood up and reached for his towel, still not looking at Laxus. "I think I should sit at the juice bar for a while, we've been together for long enough."

"Wait," Laxus began, shifting slightly but Freed was climbing from the hot tub before he could reach for him. "This ain't- you don't have to leave on my account."

"I'm not," Freed lied. Because of course he was. Laxus might be straight, he might not like Freed, and he might not appreciate being kissed like that at random. "If we spend all out time in the hot tub, it'll look odd. It was overdue, more so now they've seen us."

Laxus looked ready to argue, but sighed and nodded. Freed walked towards the juice bar, fighting the urge to touch his lips. Electricity danced over them.

Kissing Laxus… it felt like being struck by lightning.

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #28

Warning: I'm absolutely not sure I need one, but better safe than sorry. Mention of a slightly NSFW joke, blink and you'll miss it.

A/N: Julian Bennett belongs to the wonderful @slytherindisaster

Word Count: ~ 4.600

_______________________________________________

Chapter 28: No Heartache, No Distraction

“I forgot again, how do you harvest Dittany leaves?”

Skye scowled at her textbook as she flicked through the pages in search for an answer. Her frown deepened when she reached the end of the chapter without finding a satisfying conclusion and repeated the process for probably the fourth time by now. Her hair was tousled from the many times she had run her hands through it in frustration, little strands of the blue section sticking out from the braid pinned across her forehead.

She was looking as exhausted as Lizzie was feeling. It was almost the end of May and the term had slowly but surely entered its final stretch. With the O.W.L.s breathing down their necks, Lizzie and Skye had found themselves in the library more often than ever before.

Lizzie didn’t mind concentrating on studying for what felt like the first time this year; besides from it being more than necessary by now, it was an effective way to take her mind off the final match against Gryffindor that was scheduled for the next week.

Her insides were already churning with anxiety at the thought of what was at stake, but she wasn’t the only one on edge; the whole student body seemed tense, the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors in particular. Neither House had won the Cup in a few years and both were eager to end their streak of bad luck. Even Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, who were known to be great friends, were feeling the building tension, only exchanging a minimum of polite words during mealtime.

Over the years, Lizzie had found several ways of dealing with her pre-match anxiety, her favourite one being keeping her mind busy by spending time around her friends. This year, however, she didn’t have that many people left to hang out with.

Although a good few weeks had passed since the match against Slytherin and its eventful aftermaths, the atmosphere between Lizzie and her friends was still as tense as before.

Contrary to what she had thought, Charlie hadn’t wanted to speak with her when she had tried to apologise on the same evening of their fight. She had tried to catch him a second time the next day, only to be informed by Julian that Charlie had made it very clear that he had no desire whatsoever to talk to her anytime soon.

“I believe his exact words were ‘She can bugger off’ but you know how he is,” he had told her sympathetically, “give him some space and he will get over it eventually.”

But as of today, she was still waiting for any sign of readiness for peace from his part. Lizzie regretted her rash words and wanted nothing more than to apologise for them; but if Charlie was still too hurt to listen to her, she had to accept it, albeit begrudgingly.

Where Lizzie knew what she would tell Charlie if he only agreed to speak to her, it was exactly the other way round with Rowan.

When Lizzie had told her about the outcome of her decision, it had been clear to see that it was not what Rowan had expected. Although she had immediately tried to hide it, there was no denying the surprise flickering across her face.

Both of them had tried to make peace with one another and continue with their friendship as if nothing had happened. They had always been able to talk to each other openly, but now, neither girl knew how to approach the other.

Lizzie told herself time and time again that they only needed some time to heal before they could go back to normal, but there was this nagging voice in the back of her mind that kept getting louder and louder every time Lizzie felt more relieved than anything else when Rowan left her to herself. Maybe all the things that had gone wrong between them were too many; maybe, there was no going back for them.

Lizzie could tell she wasn’t the only one unhappy with the situation. Penny was always troubled when there was fighting within her immediate group of friends; she couldn’t stand the uncomfortable silence when they all met up in their dorm at night. Usually, they would all recount their days, laugh and joke and gossip about what had happened, with Penny being the happy centre of it all.

Nowadays, no one was speaking and if so only in hushed voices. Lizzie and Skye kept mostly to themselves, Tonks was out more often than not and Rowan was so concentrated on her textbooks she now carried with her all of the time, that Penny often sat alone on her bed, brushing out her braids with a sad expression on her pretty face.

The whole situation was draining Lizzie of all her energy. She was sleeping uneasily and was having trouble concentrating in class, much to the dismay of her teachers.

Not even Quidditch practise brought her much joy anymore. She tried her best to pull herself together and play well, but she knew her performance had taken a dive. Neither she nor Orion knew how to act around the other; when they were playing, it somehow worked after a fashion, but beside that, Lizzie couldn’t even look at him without feeling guilty and ashamed all over again.

The only one of her friends she found easy to be around these days was Skye. Although Skye’s fears had been confirmed when their team dynamics had gone south yet again, she had stuck with Lizzie without even questioning it; Lizzie had never been so grateful for Skye’s total disregard of anyone else’s opinions before.

Skye wasn’t Lizzie’s favourite study partner by a long shot, but she would have preferred her to Rowan any time these days; her constant complaining about the massive workload the teachers were piling upon them, didn’t help Lizzie’s lacking concentration, however.

Thankfully, the library was currently deserted, with them and Madam Pince being the only exception. The afternoon classes were still taking place and the fifth-years had gathered on the training grounds with Madam Hooch for flying lessons. Not considered mandatory for the members of the House teams, Lizzie and Skye had excused themselves from class to catch up on their increasing pile of homework.

They had been brooding on an essay for Professor Sprout about the different healing properties of Dittany for the past hour; Lizzie hated to admit it but her progress was bordering on pathetic. Her scroll was still more empty than not and try as she might, her concentration was constantly slipping.

She couldn’t help the thought that Orion would certainly know exactly how to answer all of the required questions; with a sigh, she dipped her quill into the inkwell she and Skye were sharing and started writing again.

Skye didn’t even look up from her textbook when she broke Lizzie out of her thoughts again only moments later.

“You’re doing it again, Jameson.” Her tone was mildly impatient while she flicked through the pages of her book.

“What?”

Raising her eyes for a second, Skye only nodded towards her parchment for an answer.

After a few words, Lizzie’s thoughts had started wandering again and so had the tip of her quill, drawing tiny swirls and circles on the edge of the scroll. Looking at the bits she had written so far, similar drawings could be found on the edge of her essay in regular intervals.

“Oh,” was the only thing she said before she stopped it. Even if she managed to complete her assignment, she would have to copy the whole thing before handing it in.

With a resounding smack, Skye closed her book and looked at her friend reproachfully. “We agreed on something. No heartache, no distraction; just focus.”

She gestured vaguely at Lizzie’s sorry excuse of an essay, “And that doesn’t look like focusing to me.”

“Come on, give me some credit for trying,” Lizzie pouted. “It’s just that I’m so distracted these days; especially doing Herbology,” she sighed wistfully, thinking about the countless hours of tutoring she had spent with Orion in the greenhouses. Lizzie knew she was acting like a ridiculous, lovesick girl but she couldn’t help it; she missed him like crazy.

Skye was slouching back in her chair as she shook her head at Lizzie’s whining, “I really hate that depressive state of yours. Where’s your fire gone, mate?”

“I can’t help it,” Lizzie flicked her ponytail back over her shoulder with an irritated motion. She felt a little annoyed at Skye calling her out, but more about the fact that she was right than anything else. “Everything is so awkward now, you’ve seen it yourself at practise. I can’t even look Orion in the face and half the time I don’t know if Everett wants to knock him off his broom or if his aim has gotten even worse than before.”

At the mention of their disliked teammate Skye rolled her eyes. “That bloody idiot.”

“Exactly,” Lizzie agreed. “And that’s not the only thing. Given that I called it quits on everything that could have been with Orion for her, you’d think Rowan would act a bit more warmly but no, not at all; you can literally see how glad she is every time we’re leaving her and Penny alone. And don’t even get me started on Charlie.” Her face darkened and she angrily threw her quill away out of frustration. “Did I forget anything?”

Skye had let her rant without interrupting; now, she tilted her head to the side and watched her for a moment. “You know, there is one other thing I’ve noticed.”

“What?”

Skye drew a deep breath, as if collecting herself. “I have come to a conclusion, but I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

“Out with it, Parkin,” Lizzie urged her on. Her brow had furrowed at Skye’s hemming and hawing; somehow, she didn’t like the sound of this.

When Skye reached out and covered Lizzie’s hand with a solemn expression, Lizzie felt the colour drain from her face. “After all these years of being friends, I can’t deny it any longer,” she squeezed Lizzie’s hand and dropped her eyes to the table, “I can’t believe I’m saying this…”

Lizzie’s eyes widened in shock; afraid of Skye’s next words, she held her breath in fearful anticipation when Skye suddenly raised her eyes again to meet hers, sparkling with suppressed laughter as a wide grin spread on her face.

“… but even if you’re all fuzzy in the head right now, your notes are way superior to mine; let me copy that, will you?”

Now fully laughing at Lizzie’s baffled face, she reached for the half-finished essay. Relief washed over Lizzie when she realised she’d fallen for Skye’s joke; her cheeks blushing bright red, she playfully swatted Skye’s hand away from her work.

“Do you think you’re funny or what, Parkin?”

Skye simply shrugged, her grin still plastered onto her face. “Actually, I do; you should’ve seen your face.” She pulled an exaggerated face mimicking Lizzie’s flabbergasted look from before, coaxing a laugh from her friend. “Sorry to disappoint you, Jameson, but you’re not my type; I prefer blondes.”

Lizzie couldn’t help but roll her eyes, but the smile was lingering on her face. She had been so miserable the past few weeks, smiling at Skye’s horrendous jokes felt almost foreign to her.

“On a more serious note,” Skye picked the conversation up again, “constantly butting heads with as many people as I do does have its perks, you know.”

“I wonder what those would be?” Lizzie remarked wryly.

But Skye wasn’t deterred from her point. “I know how to properly apologise; want to hear my advice?”

Lizzie considered Skye for a moment, trying to determine whether she was still joking or not; but Skye looked deadly serious at her offer. Rubbing her temples with her fingers, Lizzie nodded finally. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but go on.”

“Let’s make one thing clear first,” Skye declared and held up her index finger, “I’m not a fan of Weasley and I disapprove of fraternising with the enemy. However,” she added quickly as she saw Lizzie’s face darken, “I know he’s important to you, so I’ll let it pass.”

“Well, thanks a lot,” Lizzie mumbled, followed by another eyeroll.

“Want my help or not?” Skye grumbled and Lizzie shut her mouth again. “He’s mad and won’t talk to you, so you have to find a way to make him see you’re sorry. I’d say go and show him some sign of good will. Remember when we were fighting back in the days, when you were getting a bit too friendly with Rath?”

As if Lizzie could have forgotten that; it had been their first real fight and the worst one as well. “Of course I do; you organised tickets for a Catapults match afterwards, it was amazing.”

“Exactly; I knew you liked the Catapults – for whatever reason – and it worked like a charm.”

Lizzie raised her eyebrows sceptically. “But you also apologised for being a brat and saw reason,” she conceded dryly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, that’s not the important part right now. What I wanted to say is, do something nice for Weasley and I’m sure he’ll be much more willing to talk things out with you.”

Thinking about Skye’s words for a moment, Lizzie couldn’t deny that Skye’s method had worked on her in the past; maybe it was worth a shot. She had nothing to lose anyway.

“Okay, you genius, maybe you’re right. Any idea how I get Rowan to be normal again as well?”

“Of course I am right, Jameson. Told you, I’m good at apologising.” Now it was Skye’s turn to roll her eyes. “As for Rowan; if you ask me, she’s acting super childish, but whatever. You did everything she wanted, now it’s her turn to make an effort. I’d say, just act as normal as the two of you get; worked for Penny and me as well.”

Lizzie only hummed in response. It was true, Penny’s and Skye’s friendship had normalised again; but the starting situation between them had been a very different one. On the other hand, Skye had a point; Lizzie had met Rowan’s terms for reconciliation; it would take both of them to fix their friendship, not only her.

“You got any advice on Orion as well?” Lizzie asked quietly.

Skye raised her hands defensively and shook her head. “Blimey, I’m absolutely no expert in that field. I’d suggest you go to Penny for that; or Murphy for all I care. I bet he’d have some statistics to share with you.”

Laughing at the thought, Skye got up and stretched her arms. “Anyway, look at me getting all wise and reasonable, I’m almost getting scared by myself; let’s get out of here.”

Lizzie pointed at their half-finished assignments. “We’re not done yet.”

“No, but Flying lessons are bound to be over soon and I want to get a run in before places are getting crowded again; wouldn’t hurt you too, you know. Running helps getting your mind off things.”

She looked around at the old, dusty bookshelves towering around them. “You can only get depressed in a gloomy place like this.”

*

Skye had been right; after she and Lizzie had gotten changed into something more suitable for running and stepped outside into the blinding summer sun, Lizzie felt her mood lift almost instantly.

They were going at a good and demanding pace, each spurning the other on when they began to slow. The combination of sunlight, fresh air and the pounding rhythm of their steps was clearing Lizzie’s head and she felt a good bit of her energy returning to her.

Under normal circumstances, the Hufflepuff team would have exercised together to get into proper shape for the upcoming Quidditch final. The circumstances were anything but normal, however, and Orion hadn’t been in the spirits for extensive group training exceeding their official practise times.

So Skye and Lizzie had taken up running as a compensation for the many hours they were spending hunched over their notes and textbooks. Both being more on the competitive side, their workouts never failed to wear Lizzie’s mind and body out in the best way possible; it was one of the only things that helped her fall asleep these days.

They were racing along the path leading towards the Black Lake, which was glittering brightly in the sunlight. When they had reached the shore, Skye slowed her pace to a moderate jog, allowing both of them to catch their breaths.

Running while the rest of the school was still stuck in their classrooms had been a good decision; before long, the shoreline would be swarmed by students enjoying the warm weather. But now, the scenery was remarkably empty, allowing them to run next to each other without having to dodge picnic blankets, school bags or the odd Fanged Frisbee.

“Now, look who it is.”

Skye had slowed even further, now coming to a halt in the shadow of a tree. Lizzie joined her and dipped her head back, eagerly gulping down deep breaths into her burning lungs. After her heartbeat started normalising, she followed Skye’s gaze.

A good bit ahead of them Orion and Murphy were sitting in the shade of a willow tree overhanging the shore. At least, Murphy was sitting; he was bent deeply over one of his playbooks, scribbling something into it before crossing it out and starting over again.

Orion, on the other hand, was taking his own spin on preparing for their match. One of his favourite ways of exercising besides broom balancing had always been doing yoga; he had even tried to implement it into their practise routine a few years ago, until Skye had threatened him with open mutiny.

At present, he was balancing in some sort of handstand, his weight resting on his underarms. His hair was falling into his face, but Lizzie knew his eyes were closed in concentration to keep his pose and balance. Every time he wavered, she could see the exposed muscles of his arms tensing ever so slightly to keep himself upright. Being upside down, his white shirt had slipped downwards, revealing the bronzed skin of his toned stomach.

Suddenly feeling light-headed, Lizzie turned away, only to face Skye watching her with a smug expression. The blush on Lizzie’s face didn’t only stem from running in the heat of the afternoon sun anymore.

“Yeah, I heard Flitwick was ill today, they probably got some time off.” She leaned on Lizzie’s shoulder grinning like a Cheshire cat at the flustered state of her friend. “Want to go over?”

The warmth that had spread in Lizzie’s stomach despite her best efforts died down as quickly as it had appeared. Her eyes dropping to the ground, Lizzie quietly shook her head.

She staggered a bit to the side as Skye’s weight suddenly left her shoulder. Her friend was looking at her sympathetically. “Oh man, no, that’s not what I wanted; don’t go looking all sad again. Remember what we said, no –“

“No heartache, no distraction,” Lizzie finished what had somehow become her own personal mantra. “I know.”

But she couldn’t help the wistful sigh that escaped her as she surreptitiously glanced over at Orion one more time. Luckily, neither of the boys seemed to have noticed them so far.

She was brought back to her senses by Skye snapping her fingers in front of her face. “Stop the pining, Jameson, that won’t help you get over this.” Her voice turned softer when she added, “For what it’s worth, I think you guys would’ve made a smashing couple after all.”

Lizzie took a moment to answer, as she thought about what might have been for a second. “Maybe, but it’s not going to happen now,” she muttered defeatedly. “Besides, I thought that went against team philosophy.”

“It does,” Skye confirmed, “but still, would’ve been better than how it is now. Quidditch used to be a lot more fun when you and him were talking to each other.”

Her eyes suddenly flashed with determination and she started moving away from Lizzie. “You know what? Screw Rowan, I’m going to do something about this.”

It was only thanks to her reflexes that Lizzie managed to catch her elbow before Skye was out of her reach. “No, you are absolutely not,” she hissed. “Stay out of this, Parkin!”

She waited until Skye had abandoned her attempt to march over to their friends before she added, “And besides, what Orion’s doing is actually pretty difficult, I don’t want you to ruin his concentration.”

Skye watched him sceptically. “You sure? He’s looking pretty relaxed to me.”

“He always does but believe me, it is hard. He showed me how to do it once and let me tell you, I didn’t know my body could hurt that much; he positively wrecked me.”

Skye guffawed at her words. “He wrecked you, huh?” she snickered. “Is there more to the story than what you told me?”

Realising what she had said, Lizzie felt herself blushing furiously. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Skye Parkin!” she cried, but not without a laugh ringing in her voice. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

But Skye was working herself into a laughing fit and Lizzie felt a grin spread on her own face as well. She shoved Skye playfully, who was doubling over from laughter by now. It resulted in Syke falling to the ground, which made Lizzie burst into laughter herself.

Before long, both girls were crying tears of laughter, not even laughing at Skye’s joke anymore but simply for the sake of it. Lizzie was so distracted by her hurting cheeks and stinging sides, that she didn’t notice Skye stealthily moving closer to the water; she dipped her hand into the icy cold water of the lake, splashing a good load of it into Lizzie’s face.

Lizzie screeched when the water hit her face, making Skye cackle even harder, but Lizzie was having none of it.

“That means war, Parkin!” she exclaimed, trying to tackle her friend down into the grass.

But Skye was already up and running again, with Lizzie hot on her heels. “Only if you catch me, Jameson!”

*

Contrary to what Lizzie believed, Orion and Murphy had, in fact, noticed Lizzie and Skye. Their voices drifted over to them, too far away to make out what exactly they were saying, but the familiar sound was tugging at Orion’s concentration.

He felt both his physical and mental balance slip and breathed deeply, trying to block out his thoughts by concentrating on staying balanced on his underarms. His fingers dug into the cool grass and his brow furrowed from the prolonged effort of supporting his body with the strength of his shoulders alone.

Focusing on the stinging in his muscles, he embraced the pain before letting it go with a slow breath; his wavering body became still again as he returned to his peaceful headspace.

Murphy had seen the girls as well. Orion could hear him closing his playbook, followed by the rustling of his clothes as he leaned his back against the trunk of the tree.

“Skye and Lizzie seem to take your directive of preparing for the finals seriously,” he glanced at Orion, who was still frozen in the same position he had been in for quite some time now. “Counting you doing whatever the hell you’re doing there, at least 42.86 % of your team is increasing their physical fitness on a regular basis.”

Orion only hummed noncommittally in response; he wasn’t in the mood for talking.

But he wasn’t surprised to find Murphy happily ignoring his silence. “Gryffindor is the fastest team out of the four by a whopping 24.7 % on average. The only thing to raise your stakes is improving your technical features and come up with a flawless strategy, which I am working upon; theoretically, that is,” he added quickly, “I am, after all, impartial.”

Murphy’s chatter had it for his concentration. With a sigh Orion let his feet slowly fall back to the ground and sat upright with his legs crossed beneath him. He waited a moment to let his head adjust to his shift in position before he opened his eyes.

Lizzie and Skye were standing in the shadow of a tree, probably taking a moment to cool down from the summer heat. Orion noticed the blond streaks running through Lizzie’s usually honey brown hair, where the sun had lightened it over the last few weeks. It had grown longer again, her beloved ponytail reaching down between her shoulder blades. The lighter hair contrasted beautifully with her tanned skin, bronzed from the countless hours he knew Lizzie was spending outside. All the running and practising had toned her body even more than it had been anyway and her face was flushed from the fast pace she and Skye had been going at.

With a sigh, Orion closed his eyes again, letting the butterflies rising up in his stomach subside. Thinking about her in that way was no use; it held nothing but distraction for him.

Lizzie had barely been talking to anyone but Skye for weeks now. Although she still sat with her friends during their meals, Orion could see that she wasn’t happy.

Her energy had the power to light up a whole room, drawing everyone into her orbit, whether they wanted or not. Nowadays, her fire seemed dimmed, her shoulders constantly slumped and her beautiful smile had become a rare sight.

Orion was a firm believer that everything in life was balanced; for every good, there was a bad, a low for every high, a pattern continuously repeating itself in an eternal cycle.

But lately, he had been wondering how long this particular low after the short high he and Lizzie had experienced together would last. He was worried about her, and not only because of their final match being almost on their doorstep.

For the first time since he’d known her, she didn’t seem to have her heart with her on the pitch. It was apparent that she was trying hard to perform well, but he could see how much she was struggling. There was nothing Orion wanted more than to help her regain the fire he admired so much, but he didn’t know how to go about it..

The sound of laughter drifted over to them and before Orion could do anything about it, all the emotions he had tried to let go of earlier were there again, bubbling under his skin even stronger than before. Hearing Lizzie laugh was a rare sound these days and a pleasant shiver ran down his spine. He couldn’t help his lips curving into a smile of his own.

“It’s good to hear her laughing again,” Murphy noted quietly. Apparently, Orion wasn’t the only one worried about Lizzie’s state of mind.

“It is,” Orion agreed, his eyes still closed while he tried to find his breathing pattern again.

“The chances of her being in the right state of mind in time for your last match stand at 48.5 % to 51.5 %.”

Orion opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows in McNully’s direction. “Don’t you think that’s rather vague?”

Murphy let out a cheerful laugh. “Well, if there’s one thing hard to predict, I’d reckon it’s girls.”

Orion chuckled along with him as he finally stretched his arms before letting himself fall back into the grass.

“For once, my friend, I can say that I wholeheartedly agree with you.”

[curiosity-killed]

evidence of a lost past part 6

Cw: anxiety attack, body dysmorphia, disordered eating, implied grooming — Xie Lian feels anxious and upset during a conversation with Jun Wu and fixates on how his body composition has shifted in the years since he left professional dance and thinks about purging & disordered eating. He recognizes that this isn’t a healthy or fair reaction and doesn’t act on it but does still explicitly focus on it for part of the conversation.

takes place before part 3

His phone rings while he’s pulling grass out of the kale bed, interrupting the cheerful melody of a pop song he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t usually play music when he’s working, but Haven, a younger volunteer, had taken one look at his phone and whipped out a charger first thing in the morning before he could say anything. With the battery set to last for the whole day, he allows himself thirty minutes of listening to music on it before he turns it off again. He’s smiling as he reaches for the pause button on his earbuds, flushing a little at the thought that Hua Cheng might be calling. They’d been texting this morning, the reason his battery was so drained, but he’d told Hua Cheng he wouldn’t be able to reply as well while he was digging in the beds. Trust Hua Cheng to think of this solution. “Hello!” he greets, wiggling his fingers down into the soil to get a good grip around the base of the weed. “Xianle.”

Fingers knuckle-deep in the dirt, Xie Lian freezes. There’s only ever been one person who calls him that, and the sound of his voice makes Xie Lian’s heart jackrabbit. Swallowing, he eases his fingers out of the dirt and kneels back. “Jun Wu?” he asks. Despite promising to stay in touch all those years ago, he hasn’t heard from the older man since he left the company. He’d been too embarrassed to reach out, not wanting to take advantage of Jun Wu’s generosity and kindness. “It’s been too long, Xianle,” Jun Wu says now, a gentle reprimand. Wiping his fingers on his jeans absently, Xie Lian brushes his hair back from his face with his other hand. Hearing Jun Wu’s even voice, always so elegant and controlled, makes him suddenly conscious of his dirty jeans cuffed at his ankles, his fraying gardening hat and dirt-smeared cheeks. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he says. “It has been a long time.” “I had hoped to hear from you during these years,” Jun Wu says. There’s a hint of chastisement in his tone, but worse than that is the concern, the disappointment. During his brief time in the company, Xie Lian had known nothing but kindness and support from Jun Wu. He’d been spoiled by it—though no one had quite been willing to point it out so bluntly. Early on, Jun Wu had noticed his promise and taken Xie Lian under his wing. Such treatment was a rare gift, not to be spoiled on someone unworthy. Even at the end, Jun Wu had made sure Xie Lian had his phone number and urged Xie Lian to call him—when he was settled, if he needed any help, just to let him know that Xie Lian was still alive and out there. Guilt twists Xie Lian’s stomach, makes it ache abruptly. “I’m sorry,” he says again, more quietly. “I meant to call, it just—” He falters, unsure of how to continue. Is it even true that he meant to call? Hadn’t he just stuffed Jun Wu’s number into a jacket pocket and never looked at it again? He hunches in with his arm wrapped around his stomach, fingers pinching hard into the skin along his side. His fingers squeeze the flesh there until his guilt is mixed with a familiar queasiness. He’s glad Jun Wu can’t see him abruptly, not just for the clothes he’s wearing but because of how he looks as well. Over the years, he’s grown thicker and broader—filling out with bulkier muscles from hauling heavy boxes and furniture at his various jobs and with a squishier layer over top so that his abs are only visible if he flexes. He certainly couldn’t wear the costumes that were tailored to his shape for performances. “A lot happened,” he finishes. “Xianle needn’t apologize so much,” Jun Wu says gently. “I only worried about your wellbeing.” Chewing on his bottom lip, Xie Lian resists the urge to say sorry again. Jun Wu really is too compassionate, always so understanding. “It would be good to see you again,” Jun Wu says after a quiet moment. “Mm,” Xie Lian mumbles. He can’t shake the uneasiness that’s settled deep in his belly, making his own skin feel strange and uncomfortable to him. He doesn’t think so much about his body anymore usually; some part of him is aware that he hasn’t always had a healthy relationship with it and so he’s tried, in the last few years, to be more patient, a little gentler. Still, there are—moments. “Think about it,” Jun Wu says. “You could come take class or observe. I would be glad to see you, Xianle.” He hangs up after Xie Lian mumbles out a noncommittal noise that’s neither agreement nor dismissal and they say goodbye. Immediately, the pop music Xie Lian had been listening to floods back in, and he flinches, fumbling as he tries to hit the pause button. His hand is too clumsy, and he tugs the earbuds out entirely instead. Dropping them on his lap, he bows over and forces himself to breathe. He’s fine. He’s fine. The sun is warm on his shoulders, the ground presses steadily against his knees. He is sitting in the garden at Puqi Community Center, he doesn’t have rehearsals or cameras waiting, he can wear his baggy jeans with the ragged holes and his baggy t-shirt. Still, his breath comes too quickly as if it can’t quite escape his chest, and his stomach squeezes with a familiar, ugly urge to vomit. He doesn’t—he never has, but there were times standing in his dressing room or alone in his apartment when he would think maybe. Just to try. To see if it helped. Jun Wu always seemed to catch on, another way he always looked out for Xie Lian. He’s the one who told Xie Lian how stomach acid can eat away the enamel on one’s teeth, dissolve the pretty white smile the cameras loved. Better to be mindful about what went in in the first place and how it balanced with training and exercise. He was always going out of his way to help Xie Lian, guide him gently into a promising future. No one could ever say that Jun Wu hadn’t tried his best for Xie Lian. Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyebrow ridge, Xie Lian draws in a stuttering breath and forces himself to slowly unbend. He picks up the earbuds mechanically, turns off his phone. Any more surprises and he really might be sick. He turns back to the kale and digs his fingers into the earth, closing tight around the dandelion base and tugging. The roots cling, stubborn, but another yank brings them shivering into the light, finely furred in dark soil. Tossing it to the side, he reaches for the next and buries his thoughts among the weeds.

[mellifluousmalfoy]

flower curse. // cedric diggory x reader.

HANAHAKI AU.

gn!reader

warnings; blood, unrequited love and angst obvi.

word count; 4.3k

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it, not only deep in your gut but in your chest. Something was definitely wrong and it was hard to ignore as you tried to focus on the notes you had meant to be taking during astrology, but your mind was full of something else, hence as to why you were scribbling idly on the sides of your notebook, dragging your quill easily across the paper as you fought the urge to draw his name. Your chest felt uncomfortably tight, and the feeling of something growing in it caused worry to grow over you like a sudden storm cloud enveloping itself around you. You could feel the drumming of something soft hammering against your lungs, the touch as light as a feather, but with the numbers increasing so did your worry. The soft feathers, you called them, floated around in your chest for what felt like forever as you focused your hardest on your paper, trying to figure out what was happening. Petals.

You never knew why you felt like this, you just always noticed it always seemed to happen around him. It was confusing at first, but your understanding only seemed to grow as it only ever did happen around him, and it was slowly but surely becoming clear to you. You were sick, and it was his fault.

A scowl grew on your face as the harsh words in your mind seemed ruthless on him, but your heart was weakest for him and you hated the vulnerability. Your mind slowly drifted back to what you thought was the sickness, it confused you like many things did. It wasn’t clear to you as to why you were sick, but you never told a soul. No one knew of your turmoil, and you planned to keep it that way. Guilt built up in your chest as you thought of your best friend whom you knew would be worried sick, knowing of your recent coughing fits, even offering to stay in your dorm with you if you didn’t want to go to class. Your mind slowly started to drift back to the cause of everything, and you bitterly laughed as you recalled all the times you choked up the petals just to spend a simple five minutes with him, although it seemed to kill you inside every single time, you endured it. You’d endure anything for him.

You finally mustered up the courage to break your strong glare on the paper below your arms as you let your eyes wander over to where he was sat. He sat bent over his desk, his auburn hair falling over his eyes as his nose scrunched up into the small crinkle you loved oh so much, a habit of his, as his eyes were glued to his book as his nose dug further into it, a small laugh escaping your chapped lips as you observed the dashing male. And once again you were reminded of what was happening to you. You sighed out in frustration, out of frustration to the fact that a simple glance at the boy could get your heart running and the petals banging aggressively against the inside of your lungs. You stood up clumsily, a few pens falling off your table as you tried to leave the classroom as fast as possible, knowing what was coming. You excused yourself as you ran out, not without catching a few strange glances, trying to find the closest bathroom which thankfully was across the hall. You could feel the worried eyes of Cedric burning into your back as you retreated into the marble room.

Cedric Diggory. Mr Diggory. The instigator behind your entire situation, albeit he didn’t know a single thing about it. And he had no idea how much pain he was just putting you through. As soon as you stepped into the bathroom petals were already leaving your mouth before you could even reach a stall, and once you reached one you let everything out, shamelessly belching the petals that were so beautiful but so painful to look at. You looked down at the yellow petals in horror as your mind tried to calculate just what was happening to you. Sunflowers. You absolutely loved sunflowers, from the height to the beautiful yellow of the petals, but they looked absolutely hideous leaving your mouth like that. A huge wave of confusion washed over you as you tried to comprehend why it was happening. The pain in your throat becoming unbearable as if Cedric himself was standing in the stall with you, slowly tighten barb wire around your neck. You squeezed your neck tightly as you tried to soothe the pain.

You were racking your mind to figure out if you had read anything in the disease that seemed to be infecting your body, but your mind was blank. You ran to the library to try to find any material you could on the sickness. You flicked through multiple books before pulling out one that looked promising. You read the pages and your heart broke.

Flower Curse; a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

You couldn’t help your heart from breaking into pieces. 

-

Sunflowers.

They were said to be “false riches” because of Spanish explorers thinking they were made of real gold. I guess in this scenario, it’s showing your false hope.

-

You watched him intently as he conversed happily with other students. He was always so bright, he was radiant in the room and everyone and anyone wanted to be the one who he smiled at, and you admired that about him. He had multitudes of beautiful features that would make him stand out in any crowd. You watched him as he smiled at her like he always did. You hated the fact that she was the reason behind his smile, and you could feel that hatred blooming in your chest. She was one of the biggest reasons as to why you didn’t confess, his heart was already stolen. He was already in love, and your pride made you hold everything in, for him. You felt as if you weren’t enough, for him at least. He smiled brightly at her and it was shining in the classroom. You could hear the petals now, they were begging for your attention, the attention that you refused to give them.

You were once again reminded of what was growing inside your body, of what was slowly killing you inside. The flower petals flew around freely in your chest, coating the walls of your lungs in bright colours. You were completely oblivious to how dangerous your condition was and how it was affecting you. But for now, you focused on the male who sat with so much happiness radiating off of him it was hard not to smile.

You stumbled into your house’s common room and immediately let out what you had been holding all day. A variety of colours spilt onto the floor as you crouched over in pain. You caught the worried gaze of your best friend, Fred Weasley, who looked away from the fire that he was so intently watching before. Worry washed him as he watched you.

Orange lilies. Such a pretty flower, but such an ugly sight to see blooming in your chest. Your coughs turned into gags and soon you were hacking out aggressive gags, trying your best to get out the flower that made itself at home in your throat. You no longer threw up pathetic petals, they were full flowers. The orange lilies terrified you as they laid on the ground fully intact. You held the last fully bloomed flower in your hands, your eyes slowly blurring from the pain that resonated in your throat from what abuse it had just gone through

You could feel the harsh stare from your best friend who was speechless. You lifted your gaze from the flowers to meet his eyes. He could see it. He could see the fear that drowned your beautiful eyes. He had no idea how to react to what he had just witnessed, but he was quick to your side as his large frame enveloped your fragile body. He held you tightly against his front, he didn’t need an explanation, he just knew you needed him. You cried in his arms for what felt like hours and it pained him incredibly, he didn’t want to see you in pain like this. More flowers spilt from your mouth as he held you tightly, this time red and white. He expected an explanation, which you could not give him right now. For now, he held you tightly against his chest and cradled you as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

-

Orange Lilies.

They are said to symbolise hatred, pride and disdain. You hated the girl and Cedric for what they did to you, and it embarrassed you.

Anemones.

They are said to symbolise fragility, while the red and/or pink are said to symbolise death or forsaken love.

-

Cedric noticed. He noticed how your demeanour always changed around him, how your eyes always stayed on his figure for a second or two longer, and how you acted as if you were being cautious. He was confused as to why you acted like this. It wasn’t until the day you had run out of the classroom, flowers spilling from your mouth into your hand. It was barely noticeable, yet he noticed. He always did. He understood exactly what you were going through because he had gone through it himself in his fourth year, last year, when he had fallen for a sixth year from Gryffindor who wouldn’t give him the time of day. And so he did the thing he thought would be best for you, he distanced himself. 

He never glanced your way anymore and graced you with the presence of his warm smile that always made your day, it broke your heart. You watched him desperately from across the table. You were currently in class and you were assigned a group project, Cedric being in your group and completely ignoring your existence. He glanced around the classroom looking incredibly uninterested, ignoring you as if he had lost all interest in not only you but the entire project. Your group discussed who would be assigned to which part of the project before the devil himself stood up abruptly, pulling his bad with him, “Sorry guys,“ he apologised as he gathered his things, “my girlfriend is waiting.”

His explanation was brief and he tried his best to keep it just at that, grabbing his robe and clutching it tightly before leaving the empty classroom you all had been meeting in, the guilt that boiled in his stomach was slowly eating away at his insides. The tight grin you always wore faltered as you stood up a few moments after Cedric had left, “Miss Sprout had asked me to help her with the Mandrakes she has been harvesting, I hate to leave like this,” the lie flowed out of your mouth easily as you quickly gathered your things and basically ran out of the classroom. 

You sprinted towards the Gryffindor common room which would most likely be empty, your last period was free and you had just finished your fifth meaning you would now be alone. Once you reached the common room you spluttered out the password and the portrait swung open, you wanted to get in as soon as you could before more flowers would leave your mouth. Fred stood near the entrance, pacing worriedly and instantly came to your side when you walked in and caught you before you could reach the ground. He had been waiting because someone had told him about your behaviour in class today.

You had no tears this time, as if you were beyond that pain. It overtook you to the point where you felt numb, emotionless. As if you had surpassed the breaking point, as if you had been stripped of all your feelings. Yellow flowers spilt past your lips as you didn’t have to struggle for the dainty things to come out. You could feel it. You could something stuck in your throat as you pushed away Fred’s arms causing you to fully collapse, not having the strength in your legs to keep yourself up. You clawed at your neck, gasped for air just trying to get that thing out, and you coughed, and coughed and coughed. You gagged as you strived to get whatever was in your throat, out of it. Yellow flowers kept spilling out, so much to the point you were laying in them, and slowly they came out covered in a crimson liquid that you hated oh so much.

 You kept clawing at your throat, the object was still in there and it was beyond painful. Fred could only watch in horror as you laid with the flowers that were once yellow, screaming out in pain and all he could do was stand there like a clueless fool. Your screams came out pained, as you tried to get that stupid thing out of your throat, but once again only more flowers spilt out. And it all happened so quickly, you hadn’t even realised that it had come out, maybe the flowers had washed it out but now it sat in front of you, glaring at you.

Fred got down onto his knees after he snapped out of it and brought you into his arms, hoping that just maybe his embrace would bring you any type of comfort as you both looked at the object that had come out of your mouth, terrified beyond belief.

A root. A root coated in your blood. It wasn’t small, it was as wide as two of your fingers and as tall as your entire hand but it was thin and nimble. How could that have come out of your throat? You didn’t know, yet here it was sitting in front of you, glaring at you. What you did know was that this sickness, this disease, was killing you.

-

Yellow Carnations.

They are said to symbolise rejection and disdain. Cedric only wanted to help, but it only made things worse, both for you and him.

-

You cried on the floor as your best friend, Fred, watched you with heartbroken eyes, wishing for all of this to be over. You looked up at him with desperate eyes, silently begging for all of this to end. You tiredly explained you encounter with Cedric earlier, trying not to let your sobs interrupt your story as you tried your best to explain everything in detail, “Fred,” your voice was hoarse as a few petals fell past your lips, “it hurts, so so much.”

Fred couldn’t do anything, he was incredibly hopeless in this situation and all he could in this situation was hold you, and that’s what he did. His eyes glazed over as he watched his best friend in so much pain, he took you in his arms again and slowly swayed in hopes of calming you down, “I know, I know..” he whispered out painfully, trying his best to console you, to stop your cries, your sobs were loud. 

Sooner or later he had picked up your smaller frame and took you to one of the sofas in the common room, hoping the soft light from the fireplace could comfort you, and you fell asleep against him, small sniffles leaving your mouth, “How could he hurt you so carelessly?” He thought aloud to himself as he glanced over your tear stricken face. You hadn’t looked so peaceful in what felt like forever, and your calmness was beautiful to him as if nothing could harm you, as if you had no worries in the world. You couldn’t feel the pain, and that’s all he had been begging for the past few days.

He slowly stood up and magicked away the flowers from earlier, picking up the root before the portrait swung open, a first-year followed by the last person he wanted to see at that moment. Anger boiled in his blood as his eyes raced toward you, who laid innocently on the couch, anyone would just assume you were napping not knowing of your turmoil, “Cedric,” he greeted his peer as politely as he could, “what brings you here?”

“I wanted to check up on L/N,” Cedric simply explained, not being able to see you from where he was standing next to the tunnel toward the portrait, “L/N didn’t look well during the meeting today,” He scratched the back of his neck nervously as a sheepish smile was painted on his face. He felt extremely terrible for how he behaved towards you and became incredibly worried when he saw you sprinting out of the classroom and toward the Gryffindor common room.

“Y/N’s feeling a bit sick, but they’ll be on their feet again sooner or later. Thank you for checking up, though.” Fred lied through his teeth, technically it wasn’t a lie and Cedric knew that himself. And Cedric took that as his cue to leave.

He stood outside of the common room as a wave of sadness washed over him, “I’m sorry,” he muttered softly, a tear sliding down his cheek before he left the portrait who watched him as if he was a mad man.

Fred went back to the couch and he could see more flowers next to your head. Had they left your mouth when you were sleeping? How often did this happen? He wondered, he knew these were questions he could never ask you so he was always left to wonder. The flowers were purple and they looked so terrifyingly beautiful laid next to you, if no one knew the context they would think of it as just beautiful.

-

Purple Hyacinth.

It is said to mean “forgive me”, the perfect apology flower, but in this context, it’s your nightmare.

-

Maybe it wasn’t the best choice for you and everyone around you, but you did it anyway. You were sick and tired of the pain you went through daily for nearly two months. Petal after petal, flower after flower, root after root. You hated the pain, not only had it affected you but everyone around you. And you hated to be a burden to them, no matter how much they denied the fact that you were a burden, you knew the truth. It made them tired, and you were beyond exhausted. Fred was practically worrying his head off 24/7, and you wanted to end not only your pain but his pain, and whether yours was worse was the least of your worries. 

And so you both approached Madam Pomfrey and begged her to take you to get the surgery. Your parents were told by owl and they apparated to Hogsmeade that night where they escorted you to St. Mungos. That was just before the term had ended for the Easter break, you hadn’t returned the next term and never left the house during summer. The surgery was a success, and no one had to worry anymore. That’s what you told yourself constantly. You were cured of the sickness, but now you sat in the common room, an empty vessel as everyone hurried around out of excitement, it was the year for the Triwizard Tournament and the Gryffindor common room was booming with the excited screams of all the gals and pals. 

Fred looked at the time and noticed it was now time for the welcoming feast, and so he dragged you out of the common room and through the castle towards the Great Hall. You didn’t resist, you didn’t want him to worry about you but you knew he did, he always did. You pulled your arm from his grasp before turning the opposite direction, muttering an excuse to use the toilet and he could only watch your back disappear into the crowd with a worried gaze. 

You thought about the last five months that had passed, they were hell. You hated every second of it and you couldn’t understand why you didn’t feel relieved these past five months. Now there was just a void, an empty you felt as if could never be filled. Fred visited you often, as often as he could and he was an amazing company to have, and he always made sure he left you smiling, and your parents loved him to the end of the earth for it. Your parents were your shadow, always watching you even if they thought they were being inconspicuous. Cedric hadn’t popped up in your mind at all, now that you thought about it. All you could think of were the flowers, the different coloured petals, the blood-covered roo-

You were brought out of your train of thoughts when you collided with something, or rather a person. Suddenly there was a high pitched voice in your ear that sounded too happy to see you thought caused you to flinch. The voice greeted you and you instantly recognised it. Cho Chang. Cedric’s current fling. How she knew you in the first place? You had no idea, you had never spoken to her before this interaction so you only gazed down at her in confusion before you painted a smile on your face, or at least what you thought was a smile. You nodded your head in acknowledgement before you continued your way down the hall, trying to find a bloody bathroom. 

But before you could go any further a hand caught your wrist, and your eyes caught his. Cedric Diggory. It’s been months since you had last seen him, thought of him, and you wanted to jump up in happiness. Not because you’re seeing him after what felt like forever, but because your heart didn’t flutter when your eyes met, the familiar feeling of a blush creeping it’s way up your neck was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t feel a damn thing while looking at him and you wanted to jump up in glee and scream out eureka. Your pain was over. But you bit back all of your joy and stared monotonously at the boy in front of you, “Oh, hi Cedric.”

Your voice showed no interest at the young couple and both of their expressions faltered. Cedric’s eyebrows furrowed as he noticed how different you behaved. Your usual blush was nowhere to be seen and you held the eye contact instead of your eyes shooting everywhere nervously. Your eyes held close to no emotion, he could only see boredom. You glanced at him briefly, not even caring to hold eye contact anymore, but you noticed his eyes and how they glazed over with disappointment. You had to fight the urge to laugh bitterly at him, “What is it, Cedric?”

Your harsh tone brought him out of his thoughts, he noticed he hadn’t replied to your greeting and you noticed how less and less students were passing you, they all must be in the Hall eating now. Cho glanced between the two of you confusedly, mostly confused with Cedric who stood there speechless, “Oh- I- um-” he stuttered as he removed his hand from your wrist, a small embarrassed blush creeping up his neck. A loud voice boomed in the hall the three of you were currently standing, as Fred called out your name happily, a small grin on his face as he ran towards the three of you. A small grin made its way onto your face when you caught sight of the goofy redhead and the large shit-eating grin he wore. 

“Hey Cedric, Cho,” Fred greeted the young couple happily, slightly out of breath from how fast he had run out of the Hall when one of the third-years had let spilt that you were currently talking to Cedric and Cho in a hall, alone. And so he came to your rescue. You stared at him, feeling something growing in your chest again, but it definitely felt different this time. They didn’t feel like those terrifying flowers, it felt warm. As if you had just taken the first sip of your coffee on a winter day, the warmth spreading through your chest into your entire body. Merlin, it felt incredible.

Fred took your hand in his as he smiled down at you, “Let’s get out of here,” and you happily let you drag him away. Cedric watched the scene that unfolded in front of him, he recognised the look on your face, your gaze, your smile. He had seen it on so many people, including his girlfriend. It was the look of pure happiness, a gaze full of nothing but love, and a genuine smile. Fred had taught you love, and my did you love him so much, and he loved you more than you could ever imagine. He was so genuine, your bond as unbreakable as an unbreakable vow. You had no clue what the future had in mind for you, you just wanted to have a future with him.

Cedric almost felt selfish, thinking he’d have you forever. Thinking if things didn’t go well with any of the girls he had a fling with, he could turn to you for comfort. And now he regretted everything knowing you’d never fall into his palm again. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken you for granted, maybe you would’ve been in his arms instead, gazing at him with those loving eyes. But reality never is on our ides, is it? And so he took his girlfriend’s hand and walked out of that hall, his heart aching knowing you could never be his. He hugged Cho in his arms as he fed her empty promises, not noticing the petal that fell out of his mouth and stuck itself onto his lip. He felt the small dainty thing and picked it up off of his lip, and he could’ve recognised the orange flower anywhere. Even if it was just a petal. How could he not recognise his favourite flower?

-

Butterfly Weed.

It is said to quite literally mean, “leave me,” or “let me go”. Quite a beautiful flower, quite a sad meaning. You had forgiven him but you would never forget.

fin.

[percyinpanties]

hey I'm the pipeyna anon and that's ok!!! can u do pipeyna with piper pining after hot jock Reyna which hopefully ends happy (smutty)

just a quick warm-up, i say, i won’t spend too much time on this. i really had to resist just going on and on and on with this. i miss writing this ship, damn.

anyway - this fits really well with an enemy to lovers prompt i have for jercy, so thats what im hinting at too here.

Read on Ao3

for context : i always write college aus from a UK uni perspective bc that’s all i know and i don’t care to adapt to how it might or might not work in the u.s. (sorry)

rating: teen+ (no smut in this one, but let me tell you, this TEMPTED me)

words: 2.2k 

___

“An actual goddess” Piper says wistfully from where she’s leaning against the wall next to Percy, taking back the cigarette she’d just bummed of him. Her eyes are glued on the field, and more precisely on Reyna, smile on her face and water bottle in her hand as she jogs over to Jason standing at the side of the field. They greet each other with a hug, even as Reyna wrinkles her face, seemingly complaining about her own sweatiness.

It’s coincidence that the end of Reyna’s soccer practice collides conveniently with Piper’s and Percy’s late seminar on Mondays. It isn’t coincidence that Percy and her have taken to sharing a cigarette on the side of the building that looks out toward the field during their break, however.

 Percy makes a non-committal noise and his eyes follow Piper’s gaze while she takes a drag of the cigarette and wrinkles her nose. She needs to quit smoking for good, she thinks, and flicks the ash to the ground. There was a brief moment in first year when Piper thought that Percy might be interested in Reyna, or she in him, but luckily, nothing ever came of that.

 “You think they’re dating?” Percy asks, arms crossed over his chest now, making no move to take the cigarette back again. He’s not even pretending not to be staring, his eyes intense where they flit between Reyna and Jason. Piper on the other hand has the common decency to at least cast her eyes away every now and again before she’s caught looking for a little too long.

At the edge of the field, Reyna and Jason are standing close together now, chatting about god knows what, smiling and laughing. They’re certainly comfortable with each other, but Piper can’t say that’s much of an indication given how she’s around Percy.

 “I hope not.” Piper mutters and Percy laughs at that, even though she knows he agrees. Percy wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but Piper would bet real money that he has a thing for Jason, too, as much as he claims to hate the guy. She’d have to be deaf and blind not to notice the tension between them.

It would make sense, though, in a way. Jason is captain of the men’s rugby team, Reyna of the women’s soccer team. Some of their practices collide and the two clubs do most of their weekly socials together, and Piper’s seen the two of them hanging out aside from that plenty as well. Reyna and her haven’t talked much about Jason, maybe because Piper hasn’t actually exchanged more than five words with him and never had much of an urge to change that, but she knows that Reyna and Jason have known each other before university.

Around Jason, Reyna seems to let her guard down, something Piper has only managed to achieve a handful of times since they met during their first year.

 Jason laughs at something Reyna says, eyes bright and head thrown back and Piper can’t deny that he’s handsome, at the very least. He’s fairly decent, too, as far as guys go, and really, Piper knows she shouldn’t be hoping that there is nothing between Reyna and him if that is what would make Reyna happy.

 “Invite her to the party.” Percy suggests then, drawing Piper’s attention back from the tangent her brain was so insistent to start on. When Piper turns her face to look at him, he’s already looking back at her, one eyebrow arched. “I was going to, anyway, but it’s different coming from you yourself.”

 He’s not teasing her, it’s an honest suggestion, and technically not even a bad one. It’s Percy’s birthday this weekend, and if nothing else, it would be a good excuse to hang out again. Percy knows a ton of people, but he usually doesn’t invite too many to his party, so with any luck, it won’t be too crowded to actually spend some time with Reyna.

More than that, though, it’s another opportunity for Piper to finally get a move on. Percy, Piper knows, thinks that Piper’s pining had reached a point where it’s almost comical halfway through last year, but even so, Piper has yet to manage to actually act on her feelings.

A party is casual enough that she can always play it off as nothing serious when it ends up blowing up in her face. Piper might finally get over herself and just ask Reyna out already – although she’s tried that a few times before only to find herself tongue tied and staring at Reyna like she hung the moon in the sky. She’s been head over heels for Reyna since maybe three weeks after they met in first year, and now that they’re starting their third and final year, Piper needs to get a move on or it’ll simply be too late. Granted, she’s scared shitless at the prospect of being turned down, but at this point, even that would be better than pining forever and never finding out if she’d even stand a chance.

 “Yeah… maybe.” Piper says finally, and manages a small smile towards Percy who bumps his shoulder against hers playfully. They should be heading back inside, so Piper sneaks a last glance toward Reyna and this time, finds her looking back.

    They don’t share any classes this year, and Piper doesn’t usually run into Reyna on campus, so on Wednesday morning, she ends up texting Reyna on her way to class. She fumbles with her phone, almost tripping over her own two feet trying to type the words out as fast as possible, and ends up having to sidestep off the path to actually send the texts.

 Hey you.

we’re having a party on Saturday, it’s Percy’s birthday.

 Piper wants to add more, but instead, she bites her lip and stuffs her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. It’s almost an open invitation like this already anyway, and Piper wants to gauge Reyna’s first reaction before deciding exactly how she’s going about asking. Technically, it would be so easy to just as Reyna to go with her, specifically, to the party, but the intention might be lost over text and anyway, wouldn’t it be simpler to just invite her generally?

Piper frets throughout the entirety of her first lecture, and most of the second one, for nothing. Reyna doesn’t answer, even though the messenger app shows Piper that she’s read both texts already, and Piper tries not to be disappointed about it. She doesn’t know what Reyna’s schedule is like today, the girl might just be busy and planned on replying later. It makes sense, much more than Piper’s second thought that Reyna is not answering because Piper is annoying and Reyna doesn’t actually want to spend any time with her. She knows that thought is stupid, knowing that however does nothing to ease the anxious knot in Piper’s stomach.

 Piper finds herself checking her phone more often than not. It would be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous, and if the lecturer wasn’t so clearly catching on that Piper isn’t paying as much attention to the class as she is to her phone. She texts Percy as well, but she knows he’s in that seminar he shares with Jason, so chances are that she won’t be getting a reply on that end anytime soon either.  In the end, she has to force herself to put her phone away and actually focus on the lecture up front, even though by that point, she is already lost as to what they’re even talking about in the first place. It’s no good, and Piper can’t deny being relieved when the lecturer eventually dismisses the class.

 She doesn’t allow herself to check her messages until she’s across campus in the coffee shop, queuing for some much needed caffeine and fishing out her phone so she doesn’t have to make small talk with anyone while she waits in line. Reyna still hasn’t replied, but at least Percy has messaged her after his seminar.

 I’m gonna strangle him, Piper. You’ll have to bust me out of prison because they are going to arrest me for goddamn murder.

 All she’d asked was if his classes were as boring as hers today, and while she had expected Percy to go off about Jason in reply, this isn’t exactly what she’d thought to be reading today. She smiles at her phone, types out a quick reply and moves up in the queue.

 That bad? What’s he done now?

 The way Percy talks about Jason makes Piper think of a Cartoon Network villain, always plotting, provoking and scheming. The few times she’s spoken to Jason, the guy wasn’t half bad, and if Piper is honest, she doesn’t quite get the vendetta these two have with each other. She suspects though that it has something to do with how ‘infuriatingly attractive, like fucking superman or something’ Percy described Jason after their first class together.

 It’s like he thinks I’m stupid or something. Got a dumb fucking project to do together and he honestly told me that he ‘needs to pass this class so iif I’m not planning to put in the work, we might as well ask for new partners right away’

Like, excuse me, bitch? My grades are better than yours, for one thing

And for another, it’s not like good-old Dodds is gonna let us switch anyway

 Piper huffs audibly while she reads the texts. It’s clear Percy’s actually upset by this, and she figures it will only get worse if they actually have to do the work together in the coming weeks. Before she can shoot Percy a reply though, she’s next in line.

Piper orders her coffee, steps aside to wait once she’s paid, and rereads Percy’s texts before she types her reply to Percy.

 Sounds like a dick move.

 Piper’s almost inclined to defend Jason for a moment, since Percy mostly doesn’t pay much attention in class, especially in Mrs. Dodds seminars – so how is Jason meant to know how much effort Percy puts in outside of it? On the other hand, though, Piper knows how Percy is, and how personally he’s clearly taken Jason’s comment already, so trying to convince him otherwise would simply be fruitless.

Once Piper’s coffee is done, she heads back outside, finding an empty bench to enjoy the break before her next class. If nothing else, at least Percy’s ranting is distracting her from Reyna, and the party, and asking the other girl out – and in between the rapid texts Percy and her are sending back and forth Piper almost forgets about it entirely. Until she has to head back to her last class, that is, and sees that Reyna has, so far, still left her on read.

 Piper hesitates for a moment, clicking on the text field without typing anything just yet. Is she going to come off as desperate if she texts again, or should she just clarify now before it gets too late and Reyna already makes different plans for the weekend?

Piper types out a few words, deletes them again and pockets her phone only to get it back out a few seconds later to try again. She shouldn’t be walking and texting, especially given that she should be going faster to actually make it to her lecture in time, but Piper knows that if she doesn’t send this text now, she’ll spend another lecture agonising over what to say.

 So yeah, I wanted to invite you too ofc :)

 Piper cringes at her wording, but figuring it won’t get much better, she sends the text anyway and finally tucks her phone back into her pocket to actually hurry to class.

   By the time Reyna replies, it’s late and Piper is sitting on the beat-up couch in her shared flat’s living room, watching something trashy on TV without really paying much attention at all. Percy is clanking around in the kitchen, making something that smells good enough to remind Piper that she should probably be getting herself some food, too. She’s about to get up and rummage through her fridge compartment in search of something edible when her lock screen lights up with a message from Reyna, and that derails any thoughts of food immediately. Piper isn’t subtle in the way she practically lunges for her phone, but luckily, Percy can’t see and judge her from his position in the kitchen.

 Sorry, long day, reads the first text, following a few seconds later by another one.

Promised Jason to hang out but I’d love to :(

 Piper bites her lip, knowing before typing out the words that Percy won’t like what she’s doing in the slightest.

 You could bring him? Percy won’t mind.

 Except that Percy most certainly will mind, Piper thinks, and grimaces. If she hadn’t come off as desperate before, she most certainly does now – texting back within less than a minute after having been left on read all day, only to offer that Reyna can bring her friend (boyfriend?) along as well if that means she’ll be there.

There’ll be other opportunities, Piper tells herself, and scrubs a hand over her face. She needs to chill, and maybe she needs to grab a cigarette and step outside and calm down before she embarrasses herself even further.

 Piper stares at the screen. How on earth is she meant to interpret this? At this rate, she won’t make it until Saturday, dying of one crisis or another before then.

 if you’re sure? I’ll ask him.

haven’t seen you in a while, would be nice to hang out again ;)

 I’m sure.

[mypassionfortrash]

Biology Lessons (part two)

After your science cupboard rendezvous with Roger was cut short, you agree to see him again. But you can’t ignore the worry over what this might do to your career. After all, you are his son’s biology teacher.

Warnings: Shameless flirting, you have been warned. This series is strictly 18+. Notes: Thanks for the amazing response to part one – that was immensely reassuring! Once again, I’m going to beg you to reblog this and to leave feedback. I’m only going to continue this if I feel motivated to do so and engagement is a huge part of that. Do let me know if you’d like to be tagged, too.

🧪✨Read from the beginning✨🧪

Tags: @jennyggggrrr​ @wineandwanderings​ @scorpiogemini​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @crayforqueen​ @perriwiinkle​

Rounding off your week with an act of generosity, your final class of the day had packed up early. You couldn’t keep your eyes off the clock as they excitedly chatted amongst themselves, and then to you. You wanted out of there just as much as they did. But you didn’t want to focus too much on the night ahead.

“So what’s everyone’s plans for the weekend?” you asked. 

The usual answers came thick and fast. Shopping. Football. Gaming. Rufus Taylor was especially keen on getting pizza with his dad tomorrow. He directed your question right back at you with a smirk. “What about you, Miss? Anything exciting?”

Choking on a nervous laugh, once again, you were saved by the bell. You, plus your entire class, swarmed out of the lab and into the stampede for the door. You hurried out into your car, eager not to squander precious time. After all, you had a date – and no idea about what to wear.

Three times you had to stamp out the urge to call Roger and cancel. The half-hour drive between school and home offered a bit too much thinking time. All of those reservations and anxieties simmered away. What would happen if this got out? Would your career be ruined? How could you be sure Rufus didn’t already know? Maybe he steamed the note his dad gave to him to give to you? Your thoughts churned faster and faster until you almost ran a red light. You only managed to soothe yourself afterwards by cranking down the windows to focus on the first golden glimmers of spring. And the road ahead.

Then, you had a meltdown because, for some reason, your makeup just wouldn’t sit right on your face. Your foundation seemed to slide off your skin. Your cat-eyed eyeliner came out crooked. And then, to complete your look, your lipstick decided to take a detour on to your teeth. You got as far as hovering over Roger’s name in your contact list when you remembered how riled up he had you on Wednesday – and ever since – all from a few minutes alone. And how stupid you would be to pass up on an entire evening in his company. You grabbed your makeup wipes and started over.

Finally, all dressed up and twenty minutes to spare, something about your reflection caught your eye as you danced around your bedroom with a glass of wine. You did a double-take in the mirror, turning ever so slightly. Your eye was drawn to your stockings. Running from behind your knee, right down to your ankle, was a perfectly-formed ladder. You cursed, wondering how that could’ve happened. You weren’t even sure you had any other stockings. Would it even matter? Couldn’t you just wear tights? Why were you worrying about that? Roger had asked you to wear them. And then, in your head, you decided that this was all Roger’s fault. And you really wanted to cancel on him. For real, this time. Until you looked at the clock on your bedside table at exactly the same time as your hand grabbed what felt like another pair of stockings in your lingerie drawer. Ten minutes to go. He’d already be on his way.

Life always seemed to have a way to cut you off. No sooner had you shimmied out of your ruined stockings, but three loud knocks were rattling your door. You sighed and ran your hand through your hair. Then, you scrambled down the stairs. You could already see his outline through the glass on the door. He was about to knock again.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” you said, running the last few feet. You yanked open the door.

“You look nice,” Roger grinned.

Out of breath was what you actually were, but you couldn’t help wheezing out a giddy, “Thanks,” as you stepped aside to usher him in.

He stood awkwardly facing you in the doorway before he realised he had one hand behind his back. “Got these for you,” he said, whipping out an extravagant red and orange bouquet. 

“Oh.” You took the flowers from him and marvelled at the myriad of colours. Your nerves dissipated as you drank in the sweet scent with your eyes closed. “It’s been a while since anyone’s bought me flowers,” you sighed, looking up at him. “Thank you.”

Roger gave a bashful shrug. “That’s alright. You ready to go?”

“I’m not even finished getting ready.”

“Better get your skates on, then!”

“You know,” you began, darting through to the kitchen to find a vase, “I would’ve been bang on time if you hadn’t shown up early.”

Roger leaned against the kitchen doorway and folded his arms, watching as you dunked the flowers in the water. “And here I was, thinking I was making a good impression.”

Glancing over at him, you noticed just how exquisite he looked. Even dressed for a date he still managed to look a tad dishevelled with his mussed hair and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. His jeans were even tighter than they were two days ago, too. “Oh you are,” you smirked, looking him up and down. “You stay here,” you instructed, tapping him on the nose as you very deliberately squeezed past him. “I’ll be two minutes.”

---------------------------------------

“Rufus tells me you’re one of the only nice teachers at the school,” Roger stated, shovelling a morsel of steak into his mouth. The date had been going well. So well, in fact, that this was the first time Roger had brought up your job. “I know he’s a little shit, though.”

“He’s actually a really bright kid,” you said. “Or at least he could be, if he put in the effort.”

“Everyone used to say that about me,” Roger laughed.

You nodded. “And me.”

Roger raised his eyebrows midway through taking a sip of wine. He was trying to stretch that one glass out for the whole night, point-blank refusing to get a taxi. Swallowing hard, he almost choked: “How so?”

“Believe it or not, I hated school. Sit down, shut up, no you can’t go and pee whenever you like…”

“Don’t draw on the desk… Roger where’s your tie? Why are you late? Did you do your homework? That’s a month’s detention.” You and Roger shared a giggle. “Still quite rebellious though, aren’t you?” he added with a wink.

“Well, I don’t know about that. I like to break the rules and then I’m an absolute shitbag about it afterwards.”

“Everyone is. How come you decided to go into teaching, then?”

“I just wanted to help people,” you shrugged as if that was the most obvious explanation in the world. “I didn’t like school for a lot of reasons and I thought I could at least try to make it a positive experience for kids now. What did you get out of your biology degree?”

An awkward, abashed smile formed on Roger’s lips as he glanced down at his now empty plate. “Well, I actually wanted to be a dentist.” When he realised what he had just said, his gaze snapped back to you. Then, he furiously back-peddled: “Wait, no one actually wanted to be a dentist. Ever. I got the biology A-Level and that was the easiest way to turn it into… gold! I suppose…”

“I have no idea why anyone would want to go poking around in other peoples’ mouths,” you said, shaking your head. 

“I looked terrible in a lab coat, so I packed all of that in. Right before I got to stick my fingers in some mouths.”

Briefly distracted by Roger’s elegant but calloused fingers, you were jolted back into the moment by the dull ache of your teeth pressing into your lip. “Being a rockstar suits you much better. You’ve certainly got the looks for it,” you wittered.

Roger leaned back in his seat and chewed at the skin around his fingers. It was his turn to eye you up. When he got to your chest, he paused and furrowed his brow. “Bet you’d look good in nothing but a lab coat.”

Despite Roger’s smooth and sultry delivery, you couldn’t contain the hysterics that burst through you. Not wanting to distract your fellow diners, you hunched over, burying your head in your hands as hilarity overcame you. “I’m sorry,” you choked, looking up at him with tears tickling the edges of your eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Roger’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry if that was a bit much,” he said. “I just couldn’t help myself after our escapades the other day.”

“Oh, I know,” you smiled, sitting up straight. “I actually haven’t stopped thinking about it since. But I can’t look poor Rufus in the eye.”

“How do you think I feel?” He said, pursing his lips together in a display of pure mischief. “I think he’s seen worse, though. Much, much worse.”

You raised your eyebrows and allowed your eyes to drift towards the window with a comical grimace.

A blanket of comfortable, natural silence tied you and Roger together for a good five minutes as you people-watched through the raindrop-spattered window together. Occasionally catching each other’s eyes lingering for a moment. Your fingertips searched the tabletop void until they finally, perfectly bound together. You noticed Roger’s reflection shifting its focus to the two pairs of hands in front of him. 

“I’ve missed being able to do this.”

The wistful, lamenting thread that slipped through that sentence snatched your attention. “Being able to hold hands?” you quipped.

Roger nodded, continuing to circle his thumbs over the backs of your hands. “Sort of.”

“Are you just doing this because you’re lonely?”

“No,” he said, looking up at you. “Enough time’s passed that I’m not so cut up about Debbie leaving.” He trailed off and gazed out the window again. “Top ten things you shouldn’t talk about on a first date.”

“Exes.”

“Exes,” Roger repeated. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you reassured, giving his calloused hands a squeeze. “Between you and me, I’m slightly out of practice, too.”

“You?” Roger asked, his tone laced with indignation. “How?”

You shrugged. “Just not that into dating. I’m always too busy, too picky or too impatient.”

“Those aren’t bad things to be,” he said. “I’m a bit set in my ways now, though.”

“You and me both. Plus it’s harder to meet people when your friends are all paired off. I’m kind of jealous of you. Must be a walk in the park being handsome and famous. Mums and models alike must fawn over you.”

“Oh god no,” Roger chuckled. “I don’t have any patience for morons. I mean,” he hesitated, his cheeks glowing. “I did go to one of those PTA things a while ago. And the mums did some fawning.”

“Any of them catch your eye?”

“Like I said. Morons.”

“Bit like their kids, really,” you added. “You’re a big hit with the teachers, too. They were practically swooning over you after parents’ evening.”

“I think I know which ones you’re on about, actually,” he grinned. “But shagging Rufus’ English teacher just didn’t appeal to me.”

“Right,” you joked, lifting your drink to your lips. “So you’re going to try it on with your son’s biology teacher instead?”

“Only if she’s up for it. And besides,” Roger leaned forward, like he was imparting a profound secret, and whipped off his glasses. “I still have a thing for lab coats.”

The drive home, much like your date, was rather tame. Roger had chosen a restaurant no less than an hour away from where you lived, and he insisted on driving you home. The pair of you sat in yet another comfortable silence until the odd song popped up on your playlist that Roger either loved or hated; then the conversation flared up. He rather liked Tom Petty and Springsteen. He’d tolerate The Police, too. He pretended not to like ABBA, but he protested a bit too much. But for the most part, he kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. 

And you? You had to fight to keep your eyes open. 

The sound of the rain, the stuffy heat from the radiator and the wipers batting back and forth made staying awake impossible. You only made it halfway home before you nodded off with your face smearing makeup across the window.

“Darling? You alright there?” Coaxing you back to consciousness, Roger tapped your shoulder. The first thing you saw was a sweet smile on Roger’s lips when you woke. “You’re home,” he whispered. “Are you alright?”

Suddenly realising that the car was no longer moving, you sat bolt upright. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry.”

“She’s awake!” Roger joked. “You know for a second I thought I’d have to carry you inside. Don’t think my back’s really up to that these days.”

“It’s just been a long week. I didn’t mean to pass out on you,” you sighed, tilting your head back against the headrest. Your eyes shifted back to Roger. “I’m pretty sure I can make it back into the house.”

“Good,” Roger chuckled. The light in his eyes shimmered up and then down, before settling on your mouth. “Fancy a goodnight kiss?”

You shifted towards Roger, stopping just inches away from him. So close that you could feel his breath on your skin. “Do you even have to ask?”

With his hands on your waist, Roger pulled you into him, gingerly brushing his lips against yours. Meanwhile, his hand wandered down your hip. Towards your thigh. And under your dress. His hands were freezing, and the shock made you pull away and pause. Eventually, his fingers hesitated at the top of your stocking. Suddenly, you remembered what was happening. 

“I should get going,” you said, cocking your head towards your house. “Don’t want to pass out while I’m still attached to you.”

“Oh, right.” Moving back to his side of the car, Roger’s idle hands linked together in his lap, removing the temptation to roam further than they already had. In the dim orange glow from the streetlight above the car, you could tell that he still appeared hopeful, at least. “I hope I’m not being too forward here, but I’d love to see you again.”

When he flitted between recklessly flirting with you and being utterly disarming like this, it was hard to read him. And even harder for you to think on your feet or to decide how exactly you felt. So, with a hint of ambiguity, you leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and with your lips deliciously close to his ear, you answered. “Let me have a think about that.”

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>>NEXT CHAPTER>>

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