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fbfh · 3 years

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I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#leo valdez x reader #leo x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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kaylans-imagines · 3 years

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2. i hate the way you cut your hair

synopsis: in which y/n hates everything about peter parker, especially the way she can’t really hate him

↳ loosely based on the movie with the same title

warnings: cursing, fluff, a generous amount of angst, peter's an asshole, y/n's an asshole, familial death, incarceration. i don't know if there's more.

chapter warnings: cursing, peter's an asshole, y/ns an asshole, peter's an instigator, a terrible ending that i didn't like, and jealousy

series masterlist

*picture credits to the rightful owner*

-i hate the way you cut your hair-

Peter was at a crossroads. He had spent the weekend thinking about the deal he had made with Flash and Y/N. She hadn’t been on his mind in years, except for the times where he cursed her out in his head, but never in a cordial way. He thought about how he would have to change if he wanted to get that money and how he would ask Flash for more; it was a small price for him to pay, especially since Peter was the one keeping Y/N away from Jules.

Then he lamented over their friendship and what it once was. He thought that Y/N was going to be his forever friend and a constant symbol of why his life was good. He wished he could put their differences aside and forgive her, but the heart that swelled in his chest was irreparable. No apology, no matter how sincere it was, would get him to forgive her. It wasn’t going to happen. That didn’t mean he didn’t value everything they did together, but it was hard to reminisce when his memories were tainted red with hatred.

Monday came, and he sought out Flash, determined to get more out of their godforsaken agreement. If he had to go into the dragon’s den without protection, he needed something more than three hundred dollars for compensation. He found the aforementioned boy leaning against Jules Y/L/N’s locker, a smile painting both their faces. Peter stopped in his tracks to look at the pair, mainly on Jules. She wasn’t Y/N, and for the most part, they didn’t look that alike, considering they had different mothers, but she had the same smile. The smile that he saw every day of his childhood—the same one that brought him the happiest moments.

“Flash, can we talk?” he growled out after he shook himself out of his stupor and interrupted his pitiful flirting. The smile on Jules’ face dropped, and Peter wouldn’t admit it, but he was sad that he couldn’t see it anymore. Instead, the happy look on her face changed into one that bore daggers into the side of Peter’s head, and if he hadn’t gotten used to the Y/L/N death glare, he would’ve shivered. Y/N’s was a lot scarier.

“We were having a moment, Peter,” Jules answered instead. Peter pursed his lips and looked at her. He knew that having Y/N hate him, it would be obvious that Jules hated him too. It was just the fact of the matter. Everyone knew the Y/L/N sisters had an unbreakable bond. They stood in solidarity for one another, and it was only evident that Y/N had told him about their falling out. But in Peter’s eyes, he was blameless. He was expecting the hatred from her, but he felt as if it was misplaced. If anyone was in the wrong for their failed friendship, it was Y/N.

“Right,” he nodded, “but I have to talk to Flash about the math homework.”

“Can it wait, Penis? J and I were busy,” Flash butted in. Peter glared at him and shook his head, reaching out and pulling him by the ear. He shot Jules a forced smile as he ignored Flash’s pained cries.

“I just upped my price. A hundred bucks a day, in advance,”

“Forget it,” Flash scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Peter closed his eyes and mirrored his stance.

“You can forget Jules, then,” with a displeased look, Flash turned his body away from Jules—who was looking at the two in confusion—and dug into his wallet. He handed the curly-haired boy the money and looked at him, a stern gaze in his eyes.

“This better work, Penis, or else I’ll be the least of your worries,” he threatened. Peter knew what he was implying. He wasn’t scared of a lot; he couldn’t be. He was Spider-Man, and to be the masked vigilante; he had to be primarily fearless. This, in turn, gave Peter confidence in his day-to-day life. But Y/N was the exception. He didn’t like her, but she was scarier than any bad guy or danger he ever went against. It was hard to make her angry to the point that she lashed out, but when she did, her anger was explosive and took down anything in its path. Peter wasn’t scared of her anger; it was about what she could do with it. They shared secrets, it was what best friends did, and those secrets had the potential to ruin his life. That’s why he was scared of a vengeful Y/N.

He waved Flash off and watched as he walked back to Jules, who was still looking at Peter like she wanted him to fall off the face of the earth. He turned away from the pair and walked towards the art room. He knew she would be there, and he knew he had to do a better job at befriending her again. If the plan was going to work, he had to be better. Trapezing into the bright room, his eyes wandered the area until they landed on her figure. She was leaned over a piece of paper, a tight grip on her pencil and a goofy grin on her face. It was a grin he hadn’t seen on her face in years, and he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t miss it.

“Hi,” he greeted cheerily. She looked up, and the smile on her face dropped. She crossed her arms and looked at him.

“What?”

“What what?” he asked, a tilt in his head to display his confusion.

“What do you want?” she sneered.

“Well, this is the art room,” he said, “I wanted to do some art.”

She looked at him in disbelief and huffed in response, “you are so….”

“Charming?” he proposed, a teasing smile on his face, “wholesome?”

"Unwelcome.” Y/N deadpanned. Not sparing him another glance, she looked back at the lackluster drawing in front of her. Peter slightly cringed as he tried to figure out what the image was meant to be.

“You know, you’re not as mean as you think you are,” he stated, making camp on the stool next to her. He took a piece of colored paper from the stack in the middle and grabbed a pencil from his backpack.

“And you're not as nice as you think you are,” she replied.

“Someone still has her panties in a twist,” she turned so fast, he thought he was going to get whiplash.

“Don’t for one minute think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties,” she snapped.

"Then what did I have an effect on?” Peter asked cheekily, not bothering to hide his smirk.

“Other than my upchuck reflex, nothing,” she sassed. Peter cracked a smile but kept his mouth shut. He focused on the drawing he had started; grey streaks covered the purple page and became the image he had in his head. Peter wasn’t the best drawer; he was sloppy and shaky and preferred clicking a button on a camera to capture a scene more than creating one. But he was determined to make his sketch look good, if anything, just to compete with her. The two sat in silence. Peter didn’t have anything to say, and Y/N wanted to convince herself that Peter wasn’t there. It was a peaceful silence for once, and neither felt as if they were drowning underwater because of it.

Peter was the first to move and disrupt the stillness between them. She looked up at him with hooded eyes and furrowed eyebrows, ready to demand why he was disturbing her happy place. The words died on the tip of her tongue when Peter held up the purple paper he was drawing on. In the center, or as close as he could get it, was a hyacinth plant. He motioned it over to her and looked at her with expecting eyes when she kept her hands rested on the wooden table.

“What’d you do to it?” she asked skeptically.

“Nothing,” he waved off, “seriously! I was here the whole time; there’s no possible way I could have done anything to it.”

With a tentative hand, she reached out and took it from him.

“Why?” she asked after placing it in a pocket of one of her folders.

“That was me extending an olive branch,” Peter shrugged.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, her eyes narrowed and disbelieving. Peter was worried he had been caught and she was going to unleash hell on him on the spot. Y/N was bright; it was only a matter of time before she realized that Peter was trying to be nice for selfish and vindictive reasons. A weight fell off Peter’s shoulders as she nodded after a moment of silence. She stared at him before grabbing her bags and walking out of the room, leaving him on the stools. Peter scrambled to catch up to her, haphazardly pulling his bookbag over his shoulders and stumbling over his feet. He watched as she walked away, slightly baffled at how she walked so far in the time it took for him to get his bag and get himself together.

Y/N wasn’t a liar. She valued honesty, whether it was her own or others, more than anything. She would be a hypocrite if she said she hadn’t felt a burst of joy course through her when Peter had given her the drawing. She couldn’t find it in her to forgive him for the pain he had put her through since middle school, but something inside of her had swelled at the thought of him not throwing more insult to injury. It was the first step towards a mended friendship, the most crucial step.

She smirked to herself as she heard Peter stumble over his feet in hopes of catching up with her. Part of her felt like they were going back to their old ways before the confines of pain and betrayal dug their roots deep within them. She would never admit it out loud, at least not anytime soon, but she truly had missed the bumbling boy. The city was never the most kid-friendly place, but he had made every day an adventure. He would create new ideas seemingly from nowhere, but she always found herself enjoying her childhood. She hoped that aspect was one he hadn’t grown out of.

“You walk so fast,” Peter wheezed the moment he fell into step with her.

“That was a hint, Parker,” Y/N informed, “leave me alone.”

“But do you really want me to?” Peter teased, “anyway, do you remember when we were kids-?”

“I’d prefer not to,” Y/N snarked, cutting him off. Peter blinked at her response and let out a terse laugh.

“Okay,” Peter said slowly, “can you work on the project today?”

“Yeah,” she said shortly. She was shocked by her own tone; she didn’t want to be short with him or cold with her words. However she may have felt about Peter after the drawing, it didn’t last long. She was conflicted; she wanted to wholeheartedly believe he had good intentions and wanted to rekindle their friendship, but part of her convinced her that it was all a scam and that Peter was getting something out of it. She reasoned that no person could go from hating a person with everything in their being to wanting to be on good terms again. It didn’t work that way.

She had been deceived all her life. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Peter turned out to stab her in the back as well. Y/N couldn’t think of what she would do if he ended up disappointing her; part of her wouldn’t be surprised. The other part of her would be hurt. She knew herself well enough to know that it would be like pouring salt on a wound that had yet to heal. She thought it would never mend and that she would walk around with a hole in her heart, waiting for someone else to make it wider.

She chastised herself for being leery of him. He was Peter Parker; he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He had been beaten down his entire life by the world— he would never intentionally hurt anyone. Even when they were younger and the kids in their class teased him, he would sit back and keep to himself. He would never retaliate or say anything to the teachers. It was always Y/N standing up for him and defending him—she had even thrown a rock at one of her classmates in fifth grade because he had pushed Peter in the hallway. She had to move on from the past and forgive him; it had been four years, it was time to get past it.

But she couldn’t get past it. The words he had spoken were engraved in her memory, and unwilling to let go of the grasp they had on her. She didn’t know if she would be willing to let herself get closer to him and to give him access to a different side of her. She wasn’t a fool, but she was trusting. She craved closure and finding serenity in the things she couldn’t fix anymore, but the only way she could get it had to be by confronting the devils from her past. And the boy beside her happened to be a big one.

“Did you want to go to your house?” he asked. She nodded in response. He eyed her and sighed, reaching out to place a hand on her arm but stopping himself halfway, remembering the way she warned him against grabbing her.

“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped, unable to stand her short answers or her silence. He would’ve preferred her insulting him for breathing over the curt replies.

“Excuse me?” she questioned. Offense laced in her words.

“You haven’t insulted me in like, ten minutes,” he said exasperated, throwing his hands up in vexation.

She rolled her eyes and turned to him, “I’m thinking. I know you probably don’t know what that is, but people usually do it internally.”

Peter let out a dry chuckle, “you know I thought me showing you amity would mellow you out and open the door for friendship, but clearly, you haven’t changed.”

She felt guilt run down her veins at his words, but she couldn’t help but feel as if trusting him would end up in tears and hostility—more than usual.

“I don’t trust you, Peter,” she confessed, “I feel like you have some other motive.”

“What could I possibly get from being your friend?” he laughed in disbelief.

“I don’t know, but I will find out,”

Peter was nervous. Y/N was brilliant, and if she found out he was being paid to befriend her—among other things—he would surely meet his demise. He wouldn’t die a hero; he would die a spiteful person and at the hands of a girl who wasn’t enhanced and had never trained a day in her life. If he did go down that way, it would have been all his fault. He knew what he was doing was wrong, to play on a person’s heartstrings in the way he was, but it felt good. It was wrong of him to use her weaknesses against her; she would give him the power to hurt her, he knew she would, and he could use that against her. He would use that against her. He knew that made him a bad person, a terrible one at that, but he felt it was justified.

Everything coming in her direction was merely karma’s way of reminding bad people to do better—and she happened to be the worst of the bunch. At least in Peter’s eyes.

“Trust me, Y/N, I have no other motive for being your friend other than wanting to put the past in the past,” he lied.

“I don’t trust you in the slightest, Peter,” she stated, “everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie,” she said, unlocking the doors to her car and motioning for him to get in. Midtown High was courteous enough to allow seniors early dismissal, but Peter knew they wouldn’t leave until Jules was in the car. The silence was stifling, and Peter fidgeted in his seat, racking his brain with topics to break the deafening nothing around him.

“Y/N is the nicest person in our class,” Peter sassed in response.

“Shut up, Parker,” she snapped, “no talking.”

Peter decided against being snarky and kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to push her buttons, not when she would, without a doubt, throw him out of the car and run him over repeatedly. So, he sat in silence and let his mind go into the land of mathematics and physics. Until it landed in a dark place of reminiscing and wishing to forget. Her laughter echoed in his head and vibrated until it was the only thing he could focus on. The children’s perfume her grandmother made her wear lingered in his nose so much that he yearned to find it so he could seek out happier days. Everything brought him back to his childhood and to simpler times, and he hated her for it. He couldn’t have those days anymore, they were a thing of the past, and for her to take him back left a bitter taste in his mouth. Even if it was unknowingly on her part.

“What the fuck is this white bitch doing in my seat?” came Jules’s inquiry. Y/N chuckled lowly and only shrugged, gesturing to the back seats. With a huff, the younger Y/L/N sister opened the white car’s door and shuffled in, crossing her arms with a pout.

“Peter and I are working on our English project,” Y/N informed as she pulled out of the school's parking lot.

“In our house? What if he infests the place?”

“Jules,” Y/N warned, “cut it out.”

“What?” she asked flabbergasted, “I don’t like vermin near me.”

“But you let Flash near you?” it was meant to be a harmless comment in their banter. He also didn’t like the way she was talking about him as if he were invisible.

“Flash?” Y/N screeched as her eyes drifted towards the rear view mirror to look at her younger sister. Peter felt bad for involving himself and creating a potentially messy situation, so he shrunk into his seat and hoped for them to forget he was there. And he hoped Jules Y/L/N wasn’t as scary as Y/N was when it came to her anger.

“It’s not a big deal, he’s a nice guy,” Jules defended. Peter could feel the glare she was sending his way through the back of the seat.

“Harry Osbourn is a nice guy. Flash Thompson is a guy who pretends to be nice,” Y/N barked, “stay away from Flash, Juliette, I’m serious.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,”

“End of discussion, Jules,” the tension in the car was palpable, it made Peter wish he had gone home instead. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the way Y/N’s jaw tensed and how her fingers gripped the steering wheel with a tightness that had Peter wishing he could scurry further away from her. He had never envied people more than he did at that moment. He knew it wasn’t a full-blown fight, but it did make him feel better about not having any siblings.

The familiar white home with the red door had Peter reeling back as memories of wasting time in the home flooded him. He would spend his nights in the Y/L/N home with Y/N’s grandmother doting on him whenever May and Ben had a late shift. Every Tuesday, they would walk home from their bus stop and waste the afternoon away until either May or Ben forced him back home. Most of all, he remembered the feeling of wholeness he felt whenever he stepped inside and sniffed the permanent smell of vanilla and the floral wall fragrances Nana Y/L/N bought. The Y/L/N was a home away from home for Peter Parker, and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed it until he was in front of it.

It hadn’t changed much in his absence. It still had the same friendliness and love the Y/L/N matriarch was known for, and the pale yellow walls were littered with pictures of the Y/L/N sisters. He made out his young features in some of them, standing beside a younger Y/N. The only noticeable difference was the abundance of baby toys littered around the area.

“Oh, Peter! What a lovely surprise!” if Carmen Y/L/N knew what happened between him and her granddaughter, she didn’t let it be known. Peter gave her a smile before his eyes settled on the little boy in her arms. “Y/N, take your brother so I can hug, Peter please.”

He didn’t know whether he was surprised by the fact that his former best friend had a brother, or if it was because of the constricting hug the elderly woman gave him. He decided against questioning it and wrapped his arms around Carmen. In Peter’s opinion, she gave the best hugs. It had been ages since he hugged the older woman, and he didn’t know how much he was yearning for one until then.

Y/N was slightly jealous. She watched from the background as her grandmother complimented and adulated over Peter. It was irrational, she knew, but she felt as if her grandmother was favoring him over her.

She didn’t know she could hate Peter Parker more. She despised him. Everything about him made her want to scream. From his stupid hair to his stupid voice; it all made her mad with envy and red in anger.

taglist: @jackiehollanderr @multiholland @hommyy-tommy@visualhollands @wicked-starlight-collector @coni-martina@dummiesshort @nearlydanger9 @selenitawars @slytherinbth@misshale21 @y0ungandfuckingdumb @livinglifethroughfanfic@racheldon @popluckbih @ephemeral-limerences @tomshufflepuff @petersasteria @justafangirlduh @jayhlstead@just-a-littlebit-of-everything @savcks @sahi-raa @xeniarocks@hunnybunimdun @lou-la-lou @aussie-holland @parkerpeterparker2004 @adayasgeorgia @organicpurplepants @sadxaries @bagelofthelord @marlenetough @xxxxdelenaxxxx@racheldon @itsallyscorner @quaksonhehe @slutforsr @stillfindingmyway @determined-overthinker @imawhoreforu @alwaaaysadream @kiwismoothies @dracoswhore007 @xxxstormyninixxx @calmspencer @moonlightbaby10@sortagaysortahigh @givebuckyhisplumsnow @crazyfore3 @sweet-symphony @annedub @millennial-teenybopper@pignolithecookie @empath-bunny @interstellarhao @weirdoome @n-pg-pw @evanpetersisreallyhot @slut-for-steve-rogers@tomsgf @thesunflowergirl @Heyitsmeyabitch200 @noonelikesori @ bxby_riah @woopwoopwoop222@marauders-whore @Sarcasticallywitty15 @cutesparker@saraintherain @okaybestfriend @lehmehgeh @joyleenl (if your name is crossed out, its bc i couldnt tag you ): lmk if you want to be taken off the general masterlist or have any name changes ;D)

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Note

heyy congratulations!!! i would like something about george weasley with “ i can’t let you go. ” and “ what world do you live in ”. <3

NATURE MOURNS WITH THE MOURNING

PAIRING: George Wealsey x reader WORD COUNT: 1.1k SUMMARY: You and George finally find solace after the Battle of Hogwarts A/N: So uh this broke me. Anyways, thank you nonny for requesting! WARNINGS: Mentions of death. Grief. Mourning. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

You see him, red under the moonlight, glowing in the darkness of the night. Through weary eyes, it’s the sight on his back that calms your erratic heart. The nights have been sleepless, dreamless—you will only dream of resting your eyes for once though they never seem to do just that. How could one rest with the aching and sorrow of one’s heart?

When you do sleep, for short minutes during the day, you dream of Fred. He seems to be always present, always watching in your peripheral vision but never speaks. Always there. Fred Weasley was the happiest and cheekiest boy you have ever met paired with intelligence and a slightly off moral compass.

Without him, things are never the same. The magic of happiness is forever lost in the creaking of the Burrow as the Weasleys scurry up and down the winding staircase. The smell of gunpowder will forever lose the hint of mischief that Fred held. He was a brother, a son, a friend.

You don’t know how George can breathe without the heaving breath of his brother.

George. He’s an anchor and has a huge heart with so much love to give.

His hair gleams like firelight against the greens of nature surrounding the house, sitting on the trunk of his father's Ford Anglia. He stares ahead and into the dark, mind drifting somewhere but the present. Reality is too hard to grasp upon.

He doesn't hear you approaching, light feet padding against the grass. The crickets hum the tune of a song for the lost. The trees are beginning to slant. The summer breeze tingles the strands of your hair against your cheeks as if wiping the stains of your tears.

Tonight, nature mourns with mourning.

"Hey, you."

Your voice is soft, trembling with the leaves that rustle in the passing wind. George turns to you, saddened eyes meeting your own. The last time you saw them was when you wrapped your arms around him, kneeling over the lifeless body of Fred. A part of him died that day. You will never forget the agony that tinged his teary gaze.

"Hi."

It comes off as a whisper, raspy and thick with hurt.

He’s trying to hold it in, but you see right through his facade of solemnity. It’s like shattered glass, holes peeking through the secrets of his mind. Even in sadness, you are still awestruck by the beauty of his heart and soul.

Without a second thought and a spoken word, he shifts in his seat, making room for you as you swiftly hop onto the trunk. Your shoulder brushes against his.

"Did you get any sleep?"

This is the longest he has spoken in weeks.

"No, not really. It’s just that, every time I sleep, I keep seeing—"

You cut yourself short, realizing how your tongue spits faster than your brain.

A moment of silence passes, your heart returns to its once erratic heartbeat. It was weeks of treading carefully, just wanting to be enough for George. But, you are afraid that with the name that never slipped your tongue but the intention is clear, you will lose him forever.

Maybe, he is ready to speak the secrets of his mind.

"Fred," he says with an odd air of contentment. Not with grief, screaming the name of his dead brother. George is different now.

You turn to him, attempting to hide your wide-eyed gaze. He continues to speak, "I see him too. Not just in me, but in everything. Everywhere. Every time. As if he's still here with us."

The steadiness of his tone disappears. You just sit there, next to him, listening.

Like a montage of life fully lived, you see snippets of your time with the twins, swimming in stacks of parchment from your Potions essay as you watch the two experiment on an invention like mad scientists creeping at night. You always smelled like gunpowder. No one would ever come near you except for the twins, of course.

You remember how fell for George. You remember how Fred found out about it and teased you for being upset when George asked Alicia to the Yule Ball.

Gone are your melancholic teenage years but your love for George never faded.

You watch him swing his eyes to the sky, blinking at the stars above. “I thought it would never happen. That he will be the first to leave. But, now...now, this world feels like it's crumbling and everything is burning...I don’t think I can ever be happy again.”

It’s the stinging of eyes that made you notice the return of your flowing tears.

“You know what Fred would say?”

George turns to you through his own flooded eyes too. You heave a trembling sigh.

“What world do you live in? The bloody dark ages?”

You’d imagine the sarcasm in his tone, said through the laughter of disbelief. He would nudge his brother a little too hard and George would respond, hissing in pain. The two will bicker and you will be there, rolling your eyes as you continue to submerge yourself in the sea of homework.

Now, it’s only the two of you, with the silence of the night.

George deserves to be happy. Fred would want that.

You hear him snort and your heart flutters.

“That was a really bad impression.” Despite his words, he still looks amused. You hum in response, a vague smile playing upon your lips. “I know.”

Maybe, it was the overwhelming sense of yearning for the embrace of someone because as soon as the two of you fall into silence once more, he takes hold of your hand. Through the bitterness and the sweetness of the unfortunate never-ending events, the warmth of his touch manages to seal the wound that was open for the world to see since the battle. For the first time, you see him. You truly see who George Weasley is amidst the chaos. He is just as scared as you are, no matter how strong he tries to be.

You then bring his head into your chest, running your fingers through his ginger hair. He holds you like you’re the only thing that’s keeping him together.

“Please don’t ever leave me.”

It’s a plea and you wonder why he would ever think such a thing. You shake your head, holding him closer. “I won’t leave you. And you know very well I can’t let you go anywhere without me. I will always be around.”

Tonight, it’s just the two of you, holding each other and left with the lingering thoughts and memories of a shared lost one.

Tonight, nature mourns with mourning.

Tonight, nature loves with the loving.

#happy 1000!#george weasley x reader #george weasley oneshot #george wealsey imagine #george weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred #harry potter #hogwarts #draco malfoy #ron weasley #hermione granger

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neverknewgrey2016 · 3 years

Text

First

Okay, so I know this is bad. I wrote it while at work, and it is rushed and I suck. But @gamerwoo has been encouraging me to write again, so here is something I threw together. It is based off of a song, but I’ll put it at the bottom of the fic.

Warnings: fluff, angst, if you squint a bit of crack, I don’t wanna give away too much, but if there is something you think needs to be on here, let me know and I will add it.

Characters: WonwooxReader, MingyuxReader

Words: 1278

Summary: It’s your wedding day and Wonwoo can’t help but think back on certain memories between you guys.

Wonwoo stood at the altar awaiting your arrival just like everyone else. To say he was anxious was an understatement. It was your wedding day, and he could barely contain his emotions. Any moment now and you would walk through those doors, and walk to the altar where he already stood.

His eyes scanned the hall that was filled with your friends and family. a small smile tugging on his lips as he thought about when you had first met.

~~~~~~

"Guys, this is y/n, they are an exchange student, and my new lab partner.” One of Wonwoo’s friends introduced you. Now, Wonwoo didn't believe in love at first sight, but when he saw you, he knew you would be significant to him.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," He gave a polite bow, only a little shy ... yeah, only a little.

With a wide smile gracing your face and you bowed back with a similar greeting. And that was the end of it for Wonwoo. Two minutes into meeting you, and he was smitten, barely even paying attention to the conversation that continued.

“What happened to your last lab partner?” Another friend asked.

“We had, uh, some differences. He liked his eyebrows, and maybe I mixed the wrong solutions and he now no longer has any.”

~~~~~~

Wonwoo snapped back to reality when the doors opened, and you made your entrance. All eyes went to you, but your eyes were only on one. Love and adoration was written all over your face. It was clear this was the happiest moment of your life thus far. Wonwoo smiled brightly as you walked towards him. His heart raced seeing you looking ethereal. You really did have that wedding glow about you.

He thought about how these were the last few moments before you were no longer considered single, despite being in a relationship for years. He wasn’t sure if he should savor them or not. Your eyes locked with his, and another memory popped in his head.

~~~~~

He was sitting on the roof of a random apartment during a party when you came and joined him.

You sat next to him where he had been stargazing.

“Whatcha doing?” You asked, handing him a drink. He smiled at you, accepting the offer.

“Just needed to catch my breath. Parties aren’t really my thing.” You giggled and nodded.

“Yeah, mine either.” You replied. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you, turning his head to look at you. You turned yours at the same time, faces inches apart. Your eyes locking with each other. Maybe it was because it was only the two of you there, the feeling of being in a completely different world with a party raging in the background, or if it was the twinkling stars surrounding you both, but the atmosphere was that of a perfect movie scene.

“I-” You take a deep breath, so much had happened in just a few months, and you hadn’t had time to talk much to Wonwoo. “I’m so happy.” When you said this, Wonwoo couldn’t help but compare your smile to the brightness of the stars. Of course your smile beat the stars without any competition. The feeling Wonwoo had at your words was something he couldn’t express. But he smiled at your words. You being happy made him happy.

“I’m glad.”

~~~~~~

Wonwoo’s heart started racing even faster, if it were possible, the closer you got to the front of the room. It was so close. You were about to be married.

He felt a hand on his back, a pat from a friend. Soonyoung, a groomsman. Soonyoung gave him an all too well knowing look.

~~~~~

“I am screwed.” Wonwoo said as he walked into his friend's dorm.

“Hey Hosh, how are you? I’m good, and you?” Soonyoung sassed before turning to face Wonwoo. He paused as he took in his friend. “What happened?”

“I’m in love.” Wonwoo said, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?” Sonnyoung laughed at the expression he received from the taller boy.

“Yeah, it is.” He replied shaking his head.

~~~~~~

Wonwoo forced his smile to stay on his face as you stepped up in front of his best friend, Mingyu. An all to familiar pang in his chest returning as you smiled brightly at your soon-to-be husband. For years he knew this would happen. He remembered that the same day you met, after you left, Mingyu turned to him and said ‘I’m gonna marry them someday.’. And as Wonwoo stood behind Mingyu as his best man, it would be impossible to say he was wrong all those years ago.

He had been there throughout your entire relationship. At first, he thought you were just another one of Mingyu’s crushes, until he realized you weren’t.

~~~~~~

“You know, Hyung, I really like Y/n.” Mingyu rambled on, not even paying attention to the homework in front of them. Wonwoo just nodded along, nothing he hasn’t heard before from his younger friend. Mingyu always ‘really liked’ someone. Always fell hard and fast, but the flame would burn bright and die out just as quickly. Wonwoo thought this time was no different, except so many things about this time were different. Never had Mingyu and himself liked the same person before.

“I- I really think I may be in love with Y/n…” Wonwoo’s eyes shot up. Mingyu was never a player, but he never used the L word. Let alone the ‘in L” word.

“What makes them different from everyone else?” He asked.

“What doesn’t?” Answered the other boy. And as much as Wonwoo hated to admit it, Mingyu wasn’t wrong.

~~~~~~

Of course Wonwoo never said anything. He never would. This was his best friend, he would never cross that line… outside of his head anyway. But he would never act on anything or try to sabotage your relationship with Mingyu. So, whatever those moments may have been, or those fleeting glances may have meant, they were nothing now. He was never going to ask you, not that he ever wanted to know the answer anyway. Because deep down he knew the answer. You were just as sickeningly in love with Mingyu as he was with you.

~~~~~

“Hyung, I have a question for you.” Mingyu said, sipping his drink. He had asked to meet up. It had been hard to do since they were no longer roommates and no longer young college kids.

“What’s up?” Wonwoo asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

“Would you be my best man?” Wonwoo froze, “I’ve asked Y/n to marry me, and I can’t imagine anyone standing behind me as my best man besides you.” And despite his heart shattering into millions of pieces, he couldn't say no.

~~~~~~

Though as you and Mingyu both said your “I do’s”, Wonwoo couldn’t help but think about how maybe in a different life, you and him would have worked, but in this life, the life you were in, he would never try.

He watched as you and your now husband shared your first kiss as a married couple before walking out of the hall, hand in hand with matching smiles, part of him was so happy for his best friend. But the other part was jealous.

Through his forced smile and the real happiness he felt for his best friend and person he was in love with being together and happy, he couldn’t stop part of him from thinking about the worst part of it all.

You would have loved him, if you met him first.

(The song this is based off of If You Met Me First)

#wonwoo #Mingyu #Wonwoo imagine #Wonwoo fic #svt #svt imagine #svt fic #wedding #Wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #Gyu imagine #woo imagine #reader insert #gender neutral #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen fic

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linawritestwst · 2 years

Note

1, 21, 23, 29 for Riddle, Ruggie, and Epel!

riddle rosehearts.

1. my first impression of them.

i actually wasn't that interested in riddle until i saw him in his heartslabyul dorm uniform and i was like "OHHHHHH HE LOOKS GOOD". also i just really like "royal themes" and aesthetic so when i saw him in his dorm uniform and found out that he's based on queen of hearts, i just knew that he's gonna be one of my faves.

21. when do you think they were at their happiest?

hmm, in the end of chapter 1, maybe? THIS ENDING MAKES ME FEEL SO SOFT EVERY SINGLE TIME IT'S JUST VERY COMFORTING

23. future headcanon

i like to see fanart of riddle being a doctor in the future (some fanart makes me go *imagine a blushing emoji here, i'm on pc right now*) and i like to imagine him still being a strict type, but he's very caring and responsible!! he may end up having the same career as his parents, but he's a much better person than them.

29. how do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?)

again, strict but loving! he does make sure his children study and do their homework, but he wants them to be educated properly and he never gets mad at them if they get bad grades despite trying their best. he's kind of an anxious/nervous parent, but it's okay, he's learning! he just cares a lot about his children and doesn't want anything bad to happen to them.

ruggie bucchi.

1. my first impression of them.

i am.. so sorry but literally the first thing i thought when i saw him was "is that kokichi ouma furry version or what". yes. i didn't think that he would be one of my faves and i didn't care about him that much at first but then i was like "wait.. he's kinda.. he's kinda cute actually"

21. when do you think they were at their happiest?

i. i'm not sure actually I'M SORRY MY MEMORY AND KNOWLEDGE OF TWST LORE SUDDENLY DISAPPEARED

23. future headcanon.

i literally just want ruggie to have a future where he's happy, he doesn't have to worry about money and stuff like that and he's free to do whatever he wants, am i asking too much

29. how do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?)

a very fun parent! a very cool parent! he's not a regular dad he's a COOL dad! loves to play with his kids and they're definitely not safe from his jokes. he's chill most of the time, he wants his kids to have freedom to do what they like and follow their passions, but he can get a little overprotective sometimes. just a little though.

epel felmier.

1. my first impression of them.

answered here!

21. when do you think they were at their happiest?

same answer as ruggie's. i don't know, I'M SORRY DHDJDKDL

23. future headcanon.

answered here!

29. how do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?)

remember me saying that riddle would be a nervous and anxious type of parent? EPEL WOULD BE EVEN WORSE. he doesn't know what he's doing. he spent most of his life talking to people that were MUCH older than him, what is he supposed to do with kids. he can get mad at them sometimes, but he apologizes immediately after that. he's confused, but he got the spirit and he tries to spend as much time with his children as he can!

#lina plays ask games #friend: taruchi! 🌊

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stverogersdiary · 3 years

Text

Here’s a few dreams (more memories) i have had of him recently

It was a warm July evening, my birthday was in a few days so we were up late planning the party, i was about to turn 16. He told me he loved me first. And i told him i loved him, and even if i wasn’t sure if i did, i felt it common courtesy to say it back. And maybe that was wrong of me, but then i slowly began to realise that i loved him with all of my being. I loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, the way his smile would bring a warmth in my chest which reminded me of a lazy summer afternoon like this one, the way that he made me feel handsome and strong even when i didn’t believe it myself. i fell in love a little more each day. And by the end, i felt that the words ‘i love you’ didn’t even come close to expressing how i felt for him.

In this one we had just gotten back from school a couple weeks after the first dream, mum forced us to complete our homework before dinner. He grinned at me. “You’re the stupidest person i’ve ever met, did you know that?” he chuckled. “i get that a lot, Good thing you help me with me with my homework! But you love it, don’t you?” i teased, he creased my cheek. “I don’t know, do i?” he laughed. “I sure hope so, because God, i’m so in love with you. You’re probably the only smart decision I’ve ever made. And if it’s that way forever, i’ll be the happiest man alive.” He kissed me sweetly, like he was whispering love sonnets onto my skin. I hated waking up from this one.

This one had mum in it too, i was happy to see her more, i miss her more everyday. We were at Brooklyn national park, the Barnes’ took us all in a huge family day out to celebrate Rebecca’s 7th birthday so we were about 14. Bucky was sitting with her while she open presents. “You’re staring at him again” my mum says out of nowhere while she’s nibbling on her cake. “I’m not” i reply. “Simply just gazed over in a direction and he was there” i smiled. “Then why was that look on your face?” “what look” i ask. “You look a certain way when you see him.” she informs “You look at him and it’s like you’re staring at some sort of galaxy.” i’m confused “And?” She looks at me right in the eyes “you love galaxies baby” i wasn’t in love with him then, or i was but pushed that part way down because i knew he’d never feel the same.

This one happened on Christmas Eve 1934, me and Buck admitted we loved each other just over 6 months before but nothing was official, my mum knew and so did Rebecca but Bucky was so against telling his parents which i understood so we stayed at mine but my mum got sick about a month before so it was just us in my small apartment. We had put up the small tree a week before and we were listening to christmas songs on the radio that Buck stole from his parents. He made me hot chocolate and gave me a early christmas present, as a ripped open the paper i saw this beautiful set of pencils with a note attached that said “for Stevie, so you can draw your beautiful boyfriend if you’ll have me?” I cried out of pure joy and climbed into his lap and he ran his fingers through my hair as i kept whispering ’yes’ over and over again. i was so happy.

The last one. We were 18 so just under 2 years before i got the serum. We had been out to get our tattoos that day so we were still kinda sore on the hips, he kept kissing mine and kept caressing his. Then out of no where tears started collecting in his eyes. i was so confused, scared i was hurting him so i asked him what was wrong. He rambled but i fell more in love with every sentence. “Marry me. Let’s spend our nights eating cereal on the floor when there is a perfectly fine table behind us.” he started and i wanted to stop him right there and remind him we can’t do that, that what we are doing is wrong but he wouldn’t be stopped. “Marry me. We can go to the movie theatre and sit in the very back row and just make out like we’re kids falling in love for the first time” i started again but it was no use. “Marry me. We’ll paint the rooms of our house and get more paint on us than on the walls” I wanted to kiss him just to shut him up. “Marry me. We can hold hands and go to parties that we end up ditching to drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub together” that one broke my hear because i loved bathing together. “Marry me. Slow dance with me in our bedroom with an unmade bed and candles on the nightstand” i couldn’t think of anything worse. “Marry me. Let me read to you while you draw me so we can both become super smart” I stopped him, he finally let me break through his ramble. i broke his heart then, told him i couldn’t, told him he hadn’t told his parents so how could we be out to the world, it’s illegal. it’s wrong. I woke up crying remembering that i was so cruel to him. He didn’t speak to me for weeks after that but then i needed him, my mum got worse and i showed up at his door, a new drawing for him to collect. i apologised profusely and he forgave me, he stayed at my house that night and i wanted to hold him and whisper yes into his collar bones but i couldn’t get the words out. I regret that everyday.

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iamnotoriginalphil · 4 years

Text

Confessions of a Teenager (Bucky Barnes x f!Reader)

Synopsis: The town delinquent shouldn’t make your heart flutter as much as it does

Words: 1533

Warnings: swearing

**GIF not mine**

He was glaring at you again. You were trying it ignore him, in the back corner of the classroom but his eyes were boring into the back of your head. You were watching the teacher with an intensity you wouldn’t usually have if you weren’t fighting against every instinct to turn around and look at him. You couldn’t afford to look at him.

As soon as the bell rang you gathered up your books in your arms, hurrying out of the room. You disappeared amongst the crush of other teenage bodies, fight hard to get to your locker as soon as possible. You pulled open the door, dumping your stuff inside. You stuffed your homework into your bag, swinging it onto your shoulder, not bothering to make sure you didn’t hit anyone. You slammed the locker door closed and pushed your way back into the flow of students.

You were expelled out the front door, taking a deep breath, filling your lungs with fresh air. You pulled your shirt straight and hurrying off into the parking lot. You slid into your car, throwing your bag into the back seat with the rest of the crap you were driving around with. You took a deep, shuddering breath and turned the key in the ignition.

You jumped when the passenger door slammed closed. You turned your head, keeping your hands on the wheel, your grip tightening until your knuckles turned white. In the seat beside you he was sitting, his eyes boring into yours. You felt your face heat up.

“Bucky,” you breathed.

“Get driving before anyone sees us together,” he commanded.

You pulled out, assuming from some of the looks your fellow students had already realised who was in your passenger seat. A phone pointed in your direction told you this would be the equivalent of a front page news story around the school tomorrow morning.

You tore out of the parking lot, wanting to put as much distance between you and the school as possible. If this might be the last time, you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible without interruption. He stayed silent until you pulled up at your house. He pushed his door open, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“When will your parents be home?” he asked.

“Six, like normal,” you replied.

He nodded, pulling himself out of the car. He opened your door before you managed to. You looked up into his blue eyes, wondering how you’d gotten to this point. He held out a hand, almost mockingly. You put yours in his, hauling yourself out of the car.

You didn’t bother with the niceties of offering food or drink. He never accepted and you knew he wasn’t interested in it. Instead you lead him into your bedroom, the only room in the house he seemed to care about. He flung his leather jacket off, hooking it on your desk chair. He fell back on your mattress, staring up at the ceiling that still had the glow in the dark stars stuck up their from your childhood.

You perched on your desk chair, watching him carefully. He let out a long sigh, scrubbing one hand over his face.

“Mum wants you to stay for dinner tonight,” you said, “she misses seeing you.”

“I don’t want to impose,” he said.

You chuckled, too quiet for him to catch. He sighed again, his hand thumping down on the bed. You got up, making your way over to him. He looked up at you, giving you one of those smirks you were used to him throwing in the direction of girls. More than once you’d seen it work so well he’d managed to take a girl home. Each time you’d pretended like you weren’t burning up from the inside while watching him lead whoever it was away.

“You know you’re never an imposition,” you said.

He reached out, running his fingers down your forearm, then over the back of your hand. You suppressed the pleasant shiver running down your spine. He sighed again, sitting up.

“It would be nice not to have to go home,” he said.

“Stay,” you said.

A lazy smile grew on his face. He patted your hand, falling back on the bed. You climbed up beside him, laying down and staring up at the stars with him. Your head was close to his, your fingers brushing together. Two thumps told you he’d kicked off his heavy boots.

“Do you remember when we were kids and your parents took us out to the lake?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

“And you ate so many sandwiches you threw up into the water?” you replied, equally as soft.

“I think that might be my happiest memory,” he said, “I was terrified your parents were going to tell me off, but all they did was look after me and make sure I was alright. They didn’t even yell.”

“They sent you home with so many sandwiches because you’d eaten so many and they were worried,” you said.

He turned his head to look at you, his hair a mess as it fanned out under his head. You turned your head too, never wanting to look away.

“You’ve always been nice to me. Even when I bullied you for being the smartest in class. Even when I stole your jewellery to sell. Even when I keep telling you I don’t want to be seen with you,” he said, “you shouldn’t be nice to me.”

“But you’re my friend,” you said.

And you meant it. It was that simple. Bucky was your oldest friend. You’d known him basically your entire life and while your life paths might have diverted far from each other for a long time being told you had to tutor him was the best thing that had ever happened. Once the awkwardness was gone, it was like no time had passed and you were back to normal. As long as it was in your house. Everywhere else, you did not know one another.

Until now, if your suspicions transpired.

“All of my happy memories are with you,” he said, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t catch you. You thought maybe he didn’t want you to catch it.

“I think you’re my favourite person in the whole world,” he said.

You rolled onto your side. He mirrored you, reaching out to brush his fingers along yours. You shivered, biting down on your lower lip. He shuffled closer, his eyes turning from ice to liquid as he gazed at you.

“I think you should know people noticed us leaving school together,” you said, “it’s not like you were trying to be sneaky today.”

He paused, his eyes scanning over your face, as if trying to gauge your reaction. You waited, wondering if he was about to draw back and tell you to never speak to him again. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Are you okay with that?” he asked, “it’s your reputation on the line. Little Miss Goody Two-shoes and the town delinquent.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be seen with me,” you said, your voice quiet.

“I don’t care anymore,” he said, “six months and we’re out of here. Fuck them and anything they say.”

“Buck, what are you saying?”

You sat up. He slowly followed looking unsure of himself. His fingers were twisting together the way he used to do as a child when he thought he was going to get in trouble. He looked down at them, not meeting your eye.

“What I’m saying is I’ve been in love with you since we met and when school lets out I’m following you wherever you go,” he said.

“Then why do you keep being an asshole to me?” you asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked in return, “I didn’t know how to handle how I felt so it was better for you to hate me.”

“I’ve never hated you,” you said.

“And that’s why I don’t care anymore. You make it so hard to push you away,” he confessed.

“And all those girls?” you asked.

“Distractions,” he replied, “they all looked like you.”

“No they didn’t. They were all beautiful,” you said, ducking your head.

“You don’t see yourself very clearly,” he said, gently tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

You looked up at him. He ran his fingers down the column of your neck, featherlight and barely there. You shivered again.

“The only thing left to do is for you to tell me how you feel,” he said, “I’ve confessed a lot and you’re not giving me a lot back.”

“Oh Buck.”

You flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips crashed into his, pushing him back on the bed. You landed on top of him, not letting him go for a second. His own arms came up around you, keeping you pressed against him as he kissed you until your lungs burned.

“I guess that answers my question,” he chuckled when you finally drew back for air.

“You, Bucky Barnes, are a fucking moron,” you said.

He kissed you again.

Tags: @libellule2001

#writersmonth2020 #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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adenei · 4 years

Note

A romione fic where Hermione is checking out Ron in his Quidditch gear. During 6th year, wishing she was in Lavender place

Hi anon! I hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.

******************************

You should be mine

Hermione was working on homework in the common room before she had to attend the annual ‘club’ picture day in January. She’d put on her best robes, and made sure her uniform was more crisp than normal with her prefect badge pinned prominently on her robes. Ginny and Harry were sitting with her, donned in their quidditch gear. Ginny had asked her if she wanted to walk down with them. Of course she’d yes, but that was before she knew Ron would be joining them as well.

She should have known, but part of her assumed he’d be pulled behind by ‘Lav-Lav’ who would want to tag along. Ron came down the boy’s staircase dressed in his quidditch gear, but was holding his robes in his arms because he had the prefect picture as well. Surprisingly, Lavender was nowhere to be found.

“Who’s idea was it to be in specific uniform for all these pictures, anyways? And why am I the only one who has to do a wardrobe change?” Ron lamented.

“It must be such a tough life, worrying about two pictures. Such an important life you lead. Quidditch keeper AND prefect,” Ginny teased him.

“You didn’t have an issue with this last year,” Harry reminded him. Ron gave a rude gesture in their direction as Hermione packed up her bag.

“Let’s go. Quidditch pictures start in ten minutes,” Ginny said as they set off for the Great Hall.

They entered the hall and joined the rest of the Gryffindor team. The Gobstones and Frog choir were next in line, so they waited. When the Gryffindor team was called, Ron looked around awkwardly towards Hermione. “Would you, er, could you hold this for me?” he asked her, stumbling over his words. It was late January and they still weren’t exactly on talking terms. She reluctantly held out her arm to take his robes. “Thank you,” he said.

Hermione tried to ignore Harry and Ginny, who were hovering in case things turned out poorly. Once Ron’s arms were free of his robes, Hermione noticed how fit he looked in his uniform. She was reminded of the times she’d attend their practices, just so she could sneak peeks at him in his form fitting robes. They hugged his muscles in just the right way.

As they were getting into position, she happened to see Ginny looking at her. Ginny raised her hand to her jaw, and made a motion that indicated Hermione was gawking at should shut her mouth. She did quickly, but not before she saw Ron’s surprised look on his face. Ginny was having a hard time stifling her laughter. Oh my god this is not happening right now. It was bad enough that she and Ron still weren’t really talking, and he was still with Lavender (even if they were spending less time together lately), but he definitely just caught her staring, mouth wide open.

A new surge of jealousy shot through her. It should be her that was with Ron, not Lavender! She’d asked him to the party. She’d been carefully laying the groundwork to gradually move out of the comfort zone of being friends, and then Lavender just had to go and snog him and ruin everything. Now she had to watch her parading around with who should have been hers. Not only had she lost her shot with him, but she’d lost her best friend, too.

“Er...Hermione? I can take my robes back now. I don’t have a lot of time to go change.” Hermione hadn’t noticed them walk back over, all done with their turn.

“Oh! Right...sorry,” Hermione said as she shoved Ron’s robes back to him. He took them from her and headed out of the Great Hall to go change. Hermione couldn’t resist watching him walk away.

“Like what you see?” Ginny had crept up behind her and whispered in her ear.

Hermione jumped, “Oh, shut up!”

Ginny was laughing harder than ever now as Harry smirked knowingly at her, too. “You know,” Harry said, “He’s starting to spend a little less time with her. They may be starting to fade..”

“Oh, don’t get her hopes up, Harry,” Ginny said. “Though, if you keep looking at him like that, he may dump her sooner than we all think.”

“Will you two leave me alone? He hates me. I hate him. That’s all there is to that.”

“Mmhmm, keep telling yourself that, Hermione,” Ginny said.

“What are you two still doing here anyways?” Hermione changed the subject.

“I told Ron I’d wait so I could take his uniform back up,” Harry explained.

As if on cue, Ron returned, tossing his uniform at Harry. “Thanks, mate.”

“No problem, see you back in the common room?” Harry asked.

Ron nodded, and Harry and Ginny left. Ron and Hermione stood awkwardly next to each other, neither saying a word. They waited as each of the fifth year prefect groups were called, and finally they moved on to the sixth years. Thankfully, Gryffindor was called first. They were instructed by the photographer on where to stand, and once they were satisfied, they were told to smile.

Both gave a half hearted smile. The photographer came out from behind the camera and said, “Act like you like each other. Come on, now! I was a Hogwarts student once, too. I know how often you prefects have to spend time together. You must be friends?”

Ron’s ears turned red as Hermione gave a strained look.

The photographer tried one more tactic that always worked. “Think of your happiest memories together, prefect related or not.”

And just like that, both Ron and Hermione broke into the widest smiles, their bodies relaxed, and for a split second, their eyes met as if they were sharing a silent secret before they turned back to the camera.

Snippets of moments flashed through Hermione’s mind. The troll, stolen moments at the Burrow, prefect rounds fifth year, study sessions where nothing was accomplished.

“Now that is perfect!” the photographer said, and just like that, Hermione snapped back to reality. “Now, I don’t normally show people the playbacks, but you two should see this.”

Hermione wanted to say no, but didn’t know how to do so politely, so instead she followed Ron behind the camera. Hermione reluctantly looked to see herself and Ron, absolutely radiant with their wide smiles. He’d caught them looking at each other as if there were no one else in the world. All they saw were each other before turning back to the camera, sharing their happiness. Well, memories of happiness.

“Isn’t that wonderful? I’ll be sure to give ol’ McGonagall a copy of this for you two. On me.”

Hermione smiled weakly at him, as Ron said, “Thanks.” They both turned to walk toward the great oak doors, and Hermione felt as if her heart had been gutted. Just when she’d finally felt like she was coming to terms and would finally, finally be okay, the rug was swept out from underneath her again.

They exited the Great Hall and turned to head back to the common room. Hermione couldn’t stand to walk with him, to be that close with him. Not when she’d just been reminded, once again, of what could have been. The tears formed and she couldn’t hold them back.

“Hermione,” she faintly heard him call as she began to block it all out. She shook her head at him, and picked up her pace to distance herself from him. Ron felt helpless as he watched her walk away. Somehow, some way, he needed to make this right.

#romione #ron x hermione #hbp #keeper ron weasley #hermione granger

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writing-of-a-british-bitch · 4 years

Text

You Promise?

Fandom: Harry Potter

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

TW: (Y/N) calls Umbridge out, George being adorable, little bit of swearing, lowkey wish I had a relationship like George and (Y/N).

Genre: Mostly fluff

Word Count : 2.2K

Request: Would you write about George Weasley dating a Slytherin girl? I love the idea since he’s the softer twin and he would never judge. With the family and friends being rather sceptical thinking she is maybe just pranking him, but they actually love each other a lot :)

PART 1- I promise

Masterlist

A/N: I know a lot of this is out of character but George is so sweet and I just-. Also I really didn’t know how to end this - sorry! Hope you guys enjoy

"Let me see," George demanded the second (Y/N) stepped out of the Slytherin common room. He'd been waiting at least twenty minutes for her, ready to walk her to breakfast as he did every morning. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at the ginger, putting her hands in her pockets, silently. George narrowed his eyes slightly and extended his hand. She pushed past him, beginning to head to the great hall, but he caught her arm. "(Y/N), show me. Please."

(Y/N) released a small sigh and reluctantly removed her right hand from her pocket, allowing him to take it. He slowly removed the bandage, face growing a deep red in anger at the words embedded into her skin. She winced as he gently ran his thumb over it, and he apologies under his breath. Cut into the back of her hands were the words 'I will not corrupt the Slytherin house'.

"She's talking about us," (Y/N) stated quietly. George's eyes shot up to her saddened ones. "In the detention, she wouldn't stop talking how Slytherin's that were friends or in a relationship with any other house were traitors."

"Umbridge can say whatever she wants about us, but that will never stop me from loving you. You have given me some of the happiest moments of my life, and you have my heart entirely," George replied firmly, rewrapping her hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. (Y/N) smiled at him fondly.

"God, you have gone soft, haven't you Weasley?" She teased and George dropped his head, letting out a chuckled, pulling her to his chest.

"Careful, (L/N), your Slytherin is showing," He mumbled, pressing a kiss to her forehead "Now if we're quite done pouring our hearts out in front of the Slytherin common room, I'm rather peckish."

"You always have to break the mood don't you?" As if on cue, (Y/N)'s stomach growled and George threw his head back in loud laughter, earning a glare from a group of fourth years as they stepped out the common room. He shook his head and took her uninjured hand and led her to the great hall.

Fred ran over as soon as the pair walked into the great hall, and all of a sudden the trio felt like all eyes were on them after (Y/N)'s outburst the previous night.

"What did that toad do to you?" Fred asked immediately, barely allowing the couple to breathe.

"Freddie, I'm fine, it's nothing worse than what she did to you and George. Don't worry about me," She answered, placing a hand on his arm to reassure him, but she noticed the twins exchange a look that screamed, "we'll talk later." George walked her to her table, kissing her cheek before hesitantly walking to the Gryffindor. A few Slytherin's glared at her, but whether it was because of her relationship with George, the number of points she lost them last night or just the general Slytherin etiquette, she'd never know.

(Y/N) had never been more glad that she shared a class with both the twins, even if it was with the hag. She felt like she was walking with two personal bodyguards, rather than walking with her best friend and her boyfriend. Defence Against The Dark Arts was the only class she had with both boys, she had Potions with Fred and Transfiguration with George but she was sat far away from them in both classes, probably because both heads of houses knew the antics you normally got up to. However, in DADA, she was sat on a desk with Fred, with George on the desk beside her. Really bad planning on Umbridge's part but she'd never complained.

"How's Ron's hand doing? His injury looked particularly bad - I think it will scar," (Y/N) commented absentmindedly. A smile tugged the corner of Fred's mouth and George snorted silently as they thought back to their brother's ramblings at breakfast.

"He's doing fine, love. Think he's more scared of you than anything else," Fred snickered and (Y/N) turned to the ginger, slightly confused.

"He'd never seen you angry before, and with what happened last night, he wouldn't stop going on about how he didn't want to get on your bad side this morning," George rolled his eyes at the memory. (Y/N) giggled at the thought and George didn't even notice the look of adoration he was giving her. But Fred did.

"You guys are so adorable," Fred smiled before scowling playfully "It makes me feel sick," (Y/N) and George laughed so hard it sounded like a cackle, as they arrived at the classroom. Umbridge was stood outside the door, hands placed neatly in front of her, a sickeningly fake smile on her face.

"While I'm sure whatever you are talking about is truly hilarious, boys and girls must remain three inches apart," Umbridge tilted her head and (Y/N) had to bite back a snarky comment. The three shared a look before the twins took an exaggerated step away from (Y/N). She had to force back a snort at the look on Umbridge's face as she stepped into the classroom and to her desk.

All lesson, Umbridge had been getting on her nerves, making her hands clench under the table, though Fred had taken her injured hand a few times to stop her from aggravating the wound further. Eventually, (Y/N) had let out an exasperated sigh, that was a little too loud for her liking. Umbridge's eyes instantly snapped over to her, like she'd been waiting for her to slip up.

"Is there a problem, Miss (L/N)?" She asked, her voice high pitched and irritating. (Y/N) looked up at her, and sat back, folding her arms.

"Several, actually. Though I doubt you really care all that much," (Y/N) shot back and she could feel all eyes on her again. Including the worried ones of Fred and George. Fred knocked his leg against hers under the table, telling her to quit it for her own sake.

"Oh, do tell. The happiness of my students is my key priority," She responded and she heard snickers scattered all over the classroom.

"Alright then, why tell us three off when we didn't do anything wrong?" (Y/N) gestured between herself and the twins. Umbridge's eye twitched slightly in annoyance

"You were disobeying the school rules. All boys and girls must remain six inches apart." "So you're breaking your own rules then."

"How so?" Umbridge raised her eyebrows expectantly. George opened his mouth to try and get his girlfriend to stop, knowing this would only result in another detention. He didn't want her hurt again.

"You have this stupid rule about six inches between girls and boys, but they sit together in the great hall and common rooms. And even if you tried to enforce this rule, please tell me where you'd find space in the common rooms and great hall to ensure they stayed six inches apart. Also, in your own class, you have everyone sat boy-girl. How is that keeping six inches apart?"The class looked flabbergasted and even Umbridge looked speechless. No one quite knew how to react.

"The rule is in place to prevent inappropriate behaviour in corridors and communal areas. In whole student areas, teachers are there to monitor students and punish them when necessary," Umbridge answered after a long pause. (Y/N) smirked slightly, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh? So, inappropriate behaviour in the classroom, would that include a teacher using a black quill on their students, for example?" She questioned, an innocent tone to her voice, though every word was laced with venom. Fred and George couldn't quite believe this was the same (Y/N) who was terrified to meet their parents in the summer. Umbridge stuttered over her words, before letting out an indignant huff, storming to the front of the classroom and commanding the students to turn to page 576.

"(Y/N)!" The girl turned to see the youngest Weasley boy running towards her from down the corridor. She stopped, allowing Ron to catch up "I heard about what happened with Umbridge this morning. Did you actually say all that stuff to her?"

"I mean, someone had to say it eventually, it just happened to be me," She shrugged beginning to walk again slowly with Ron beside.

"Bloody hell, (Y/N), you must have a death wish!"

"Kinda comes when you start hanging out with your brothers," (Y/N) joked lightly, nudging Ron with her shoulder. He let out an awkward chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"Look, I, uh, I actually came here to talk to you about something a little more serious. I haven't exactly been the nicest to you because you're a Slytherin and, I know now that you're nothing like some of the people in your house. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry. Oh, and, uh, thanks for yesterday," Ron said, rushed and extremely hesitant as if it was difficult for him to say it. (Y/N) smiled at him kindly, and nodded.

"It's alright Ron, if I had a history with a house like you guys have with the Slytherins, I probably wouldn't be the nicest either," She reassured, Ron nodded uncomfortably before quickly making a quick excuse and dashing off. (Y/N) laughed quietly at how painful his apology was to watch before making her way back to her common room.

"I don't think your brother hates me anymore," (Y/N) commented as she and George sat in the library together, after she'd forced him to actually do his DADA homework.

"Oh, god, what did Ron do?" George asked sarcastically, earning a glare from the librarian, seeing as George had no concept of an inside voice. (Y/N) muffled a laugh behind her hand as George ducked his head.

"He apologised last night, but it was really painful to watch. Something tells me Hermione forced him into it," She explained, still chuckling between each word. George nudged her, a fake pout on his face and she kissed his cheek.

"He wouldn't have apologised at all if he didn't feel at least a little bit guilty deep down," George reasoned, looking back at the book between them.

"Forgive me if I find that hard to believe," She replied, bouncing her foot under the table. George put a hand on her shaking knee, looking up at her.

"Seriously love, if he apologised, he meant it. I told you he'd come around eventually," (Y/N) sighed, sitting back in her seat slightly, raising an eyebrow at George.

"You promise?" She extended her pinky finger and George breathed out a snicker, before linking his pinky with hers.

"I promise."

"Hey, (Y/N), have you seen my tie? I've been looking all over for it and I need to open the shop," Fred called from his bedroom as (Y/N) stood in the living room fixing George's collar. George rolled his eyes playfully, and she let out a small laugh, spying it on the kitchen counter.

"You really didn't look that hard, Freddie. It's in the kitchen, dumbass," She replied and she heard a crash from his room. (Y/N) readjusted George's suit jacket and pressed a kiss to his cheek before going to check on Fred. Fred was on the floor, a pair of trousers wrapped around his ankles, with his duvet all over him. "Do I even want to know how you got in this situation?"

"I fell," He responded sheepishly, untangling himself from his belonging. (Y/N) placed her hand over her mouth to suppress a laugh, and she crouched down beside him to pull the duvet back on his bed. George appeared in the doorway, investigating the commotion and let out a roar of a laugh, having to lean on the doorway. Fred grumbled like a child as the pair laughed at him, even as George helped Fred up.

"And now you know why I nag you to clean your room," (Y/N) pointed as Fred walked to the kitchen, George close behind.

"You don't half sound like our mother," Fred remarked and she smacked his arm lightly, as he put his tie on. George smirked at their antics and took a sip from his cup of tea.

"C'mon we can't be late for our own official shop opening," George interrupted chirpily, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend's waist.

"Because you two are definitely known for your immaculate timing aren't you?" She teased, booping his nose and George dug his fingers into her side in response, grinning when she squealed.

"Are you ready, Georgie?"

"Ready as I'll ever be Freddie."

(Y/N) sat behind the till fingers crossed beneath the table, smiling slightly at the nervous looks on the twins' faces. The brothers shared a look before looking back at (Y/N), who nodded with an anxious grin, and with a small pause, they unlocked the front door and opened them wide. Business was slow for the first hour or so, and (Y/N) could see the disheartened look on the boys' faces but by 11 o'clock, the shop was swamped with adults and teenagers alike. Soon, the shop was as loud as she remembered the Hogwarts courtyard to be, and it was bustling. Fred and George wandered around talking to customers, laughing and joking, and (Y/N) admired the boyish delight that adorned their faces. George looked over at her and winked with the widest grin on his face, before going back to advertising the puking pastilles. George looked back over to her a few minutes later, and when he saw her talking to a small boy with his mother, he couldn't help but think that life could never get any better than this. His dream job, his dream girl and his brother by his side. Nothing would ever be better than this.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

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#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #phoebe writes #weasley wizard wheezes #ron weasley #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry potter imagine #weasley #hp #weasley twins x reader #phoebe speaks #request #harry potter x reader

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earphonekiyouka · 4 years

Text

Milk Bread

Summary: You are the older sister of Tobio Kageyama, who happens to study at Aoba Johsai Highschool. You and your brother get along well with the shared love for volleyball, but what happens when his arch enemy is your boyfriend.

Pt: 1 2 3 4&5

The weekday's passed by in a blur, the only thing you were focused on for the rest of the week was that your date with Tooru was at the weekend. Akari and Ichika wanted to do a group study for their English assignment so you agreed to help them on Friday night at your home.

��"Tobio I'm having my friend's over, stay away from my room!" Tobio rolled his eyes as he nodded and went to his room, you never knew what secret your friends would spill if they found your brother at your room and they were always so loud everywhere they go. "There are some snacks in the kitchen if you want any" He says before he retreats back to his room "Thanks Tobio you're the best!" you shout at him before you hear your doorbell ring, you run downstairs to open the door as you finally see Akari and Ichika.

"There's the smart one in our group, I hope you're ready to teach two bird brain this afternoon"

"What would you guys do without me?"

"I don't know we'll probably fail and take extra classes without you" You sighed as you lead them to your room after they greeted your mom who also said hi. After you got settled down at your room, you started tutoring both of them about the homework that you all had. They learn quickly due to you explaining it well for them to understand in a pinch.

Some time has passed as you finally finished the homework that you were given, so now you were just chatting about random stuff about school, volleyball, or any other hobbies that the three of loved doing.

"Hey, (Y/N)-chan how is your relationship with Oikawa-kun?" Akari asked as Ichika also bounced at the sudden topic brought up. "Oh yeah! aren't you two going out this weekend?" Ichiko said a little bit too loudly which made you cover her mouth before your brother hears. You were afraid this would happen, they always had big mouths when it comes to talking about relationships. "Shh! Bigmouth much? I hadn't told anyone in my family about Tooru!"

"Ooo First name basis with your senior?"

"Look! his name on her phone is 'My Love'!" Akari was looking at the screen of your phone which had a message notification from Tooru. You ran to snatch your phone so they couldn't see but unfortunately, they were teaming up to get your phone. Luckily a knock on your door had distracted them enough to let go of off you. "Girls, dinner's ready! (Y/N), tell them to eat before they leave" The three of you immediately bolted to the kitchen where there was a lot of food prepared for everyone.

"You have a lovely mother (Y/N)-chan, I'll be eating good tonight!" Just then Tobio came down the stairs with his phone in hand. "Oh, Onēsan how was the tutoring," Tobio asks as he put his phone back in his pocket. "Hey! you're that setter everyone talks about in middle school! (Y/N)-chan you didn't tell us he was your brother!"

"Literally what are you talking about didn't you at least look at his last name" You loved your friends to death but sometimes they could be so forgetful you didn't know how they even pass some of their tests. "He was always referred to as 'King of the Court'! How was I supposed to know!"

"I don't know Ichika maybe if you took the time to look at his last name you would've seen 'Kageyama' there" Tobio ignored the banter between you and your friends as he sat down at the table followed by the three of you. "Did you finish your homework yet, Tobio?" He froze at the question you asked him with a raised brow, it wasn't that he wasn't smart it's just that he devoted most of his time on volleyball. "What did I tell you about balancing volleyball and your school works? If you don't keep your grades up you can get kicked off the team you know" Tobio looked away as he murmured an 'I'll do it later'

"Speaking of volleyball" Akari spoke up after she shoved food in her mouth and gave a pleasing hum. "Do you know about Oika-" You quickly covered her mouth as you shoved an onigiri in her face to avoid her from talking.

"What was that hun?" Your mom asked Akari but you glared at her as she playfully pouted and looked down.

"Don't worry about her mom, she was probably just talking about... Our homework!" You struggled to make an excuse so you blurted out a horrible alibi, you see Ichika laughing at the corner of your eye as she tried to cover her mouth. "Onēsan it's not nice to shove food in peoples mouth" In all honesty, Tobio wanted to know what Akari was about to say because it'd looked like something you didn't want your family to know and he'd grown curious about the person you were talking too at the phone late at night.

"Just drop it Tobio continue eating your vegetables," You said rather harshly he quickly shut his mouth as he can see that the topic was making you uncomfortable.

After you all finished eating Akari and Ichika announced that they should go home, you walked them to the front of your house as you chatted about the upcoming practice match next week. "Well you should practice those spikes for Tuesday we wouldn't wanna lose to them now would we?"

"Of course not, now shoo I don't want your parents to worry about any of you" you hugged both of them as they started to walk further and further from your house.

You went back inside straight to your room just as you got a message from Tooru.

That night you and Tooru talked about what you would be doing during your date aside from eating at the cafe, you suggested playing volleyball at the court in the park in which he agreed. Even though it was no fancy dinner or an expensive breakfast, simple dates with Tooru would always be your happiest moments with him. Sometimes you would even teach each other tricks about volleyball or tips on how to improve on different aspects of volleyball.

~~~

It was finally the weekend and you were so excited that you immediately jumped from the bed at 11 am and took a shower, you ate a decent breakfast and chose an outfit that would be fashionable but still be suitable for playing volleyball. After all that you looked at the clock which read 12:55 AM and started to put the necessary items in your bag, you figured Tooru would be the one to bring the ball so you didn't bother getting yours.

"Where are you going?" You look behind you and see your younger brother with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. "Well as far as I'm concerned you don't need to know that, but being the nice older sister I am I'll tell you that I'm going out with Akari and Ichika"

"But you just hang out with them yesterday!"

You sighed as you let go of the doorknob that would lead you outside your house and turned to face Tobio, "Look I know you worry about me a lot but I'll be fine plus we Kageyama's are strong aren't we? So stop worrying, I'll be back at 6-ish" You hugged your brother as he also returned the gesture, once that was settled with you opened the door and left the house. The cafe was kinda far since it was near your school rather than your house so you took your bike to reach your destination faster.

Once you got there you put your bike on the area designated for it then you walked inside the cafe, you look at your phone's watch as it read 1:05 pm. Which was kind of the definition for '1-ish'

"You looking for me cutie?" You turned around and saw Tooru with a bouquet of flowers in hand. You quickly wrapped your arms around him as you enveloped him in a tight hug. "Missed me already? we just saw each other yesterday" He snickered as he also wrapped you up in his arms. "Shut up you know that's different, we actually get a weekend all for ourselves!" You let him go as he gave you the bouquet which was filled with roses, you always received a single flower or two on weekdays when you're in school but it was never as big as this.

"You really outdid yourself with the flowers today"

"Only the best for you cutie, now should we take a seat people are starting to stare" You looked around as you indeed saw that people are starting to stare, your cheeks flushed as you found a table and sat down with a smile. "I already got the Milk Bread, and I ordered you a coffee just before I saw you walk in" He always knew what you wanted and it was little things like remembering your pet peeves or remembering how you loved the color of your volleyball uniform that would immediately be locked in his memory. "Just what I needed"

After eating at the cafe the two of you walked to the nearby park that was surprisingly not filled with a lot of people, which meant you had the volleyball court all to yourself. "So how's your ankle?"

"Well doesn't hurt as much as it did but I should probably just do sets and not move around too much after I stretch" You nodded as you watch him take off his Turquoise volleyball jacket. "Maybe I'm better at you in serving now that I have an advantage" You stuck your tongue out at him as he squishes your face with both his hands. "Even if you are it's because of those tips I taught you"

"Hey! I work very hard to improve my skills in volleyball, Thank you very much!" You remove his hands that were at your face and grabbed the ball that was at his foot.

The day went on as usual as you both practiced volleyball but you advised Tooru to take more breaks than usual, at the end of the day as you saw that the sun was about to set you and him decided to just sit at the bench in the park.

You laid your head against his shoulder as you watched the sunset, you took in every detail about the moment so it could be engraved in your memory forever. At that moment you have never loved Oikawa Tooru as much as you did now.

"Hey Tooru"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, will you be my boyfriend?"

He looked at you for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter.

"Danm it (Y/N)-chan, that was supposed to be me asking you to be my girlfriend"

"So is that a yes?

"Umm let me think~"

"Tooru.."

"I'm just kidding of course I'll be your boyfriend" He stared at your eyes and cupped your cheeks as he closed the gap between your lips, it was sweet, tender and made your heart melt. Yes, it truly was the happiest day of your life.

"Now let's take a pic, (Y/N)-chan, I wouldn't want to waste the moment" He took out his phone as put his arms around you and smiled brightly at the camera before he snapped the picture you kissed his cheeks just as the flash met your faces.

Taglist: @aegeanblues

#oikawa imagine #oikawa scenarios #oikawa toru x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x y/n #haikyū!!#haikyu fanfiction #haikyu fluff #haikyu scenarios #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa

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threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

07 | Illegirl

→ previous | next

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda…

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, kissing/making out, (kinda??) sexual fantasies

→ wordcount: 6.2k

You need to get rid of all the memories you've had with Jimin.

It's quite simple, actually. You've broken it down into four rules.

1. Don't call him Jimin. He's merely your teacher, not friend

2. You've never ever kissed him before. In fact, let's just say you don't even meet him outside of school for whatever reason

3. You don't know anything about him except his age, name and profession. You certainly don't know anything he hides behind his pretty face

4. Lastly, you weren't his friend, you never were

Ever since the mistaken incident, all fun was stripped away from your life. Essentially, whenever Jin was away, you had Jimin to rely on, but even he was distancing himself from you. You knew it was for the better.

You see a bland pattern these days. During class, Jimin still calls on you (to ensure normal behavior), but both of you avoid eye contact. After class, you silently walk into his classroom and walk out when Jimin's ready to leave. You don't ever exchange words, even when he drops you off.

If you're absolutely forced to talk to him, you don't call him Jimin, you call him Mr. Park, because that's what he really is to you. Only friends call each other by their first names, and Jimin's just a teacher to you.

And you're just a student to him.

You count off the long days until your cousin will come back home. Every day seems to drag on and you constantly can't wait to go to bed for a short while but only to wake up again and start the shitty cycle once more.

But finally, finally, fucking finally, the day comes when your cousin will be back. You're a bit reluctant to accompany your teacher to the airport, but you don't have a car, much less a driver's license.

The car ride is awkward, just as you expected. You manage to sit still, looking out the window the whole time to avoid any chance of eye contact, running math equations in your head to distract yourself.

Of course, in the end, the uncomfortable ride was worth it.

It's Seokjin, after all.

"My baby cousin, best friend! Still alive, I see!" your cousin practically screams as he bull-runs towards you and Jimin, his suitcase basically flying behind him. That earns a few strange looks from passers.

When Jin reaches you, he embraces you in a warm hug.

"I've been living off instant ramen," you whine. "It's not fair that you don't let me get out of the house alone!"

Your cousin cocks his head as he looks between you and Jimin. "Hey, don't you two usually eat together after school?"

"We were both busy," Jimin quickly says, glancing your way awkwardly.

"For a month?" Jin questions.

"Yeah... a lot of homework," you trail off. "Mr. Park still made sure I got into the house safely every time though," you add for some good measure.

"Mr. Park?" your cousin says suspiciously, raising his eyebrows. "Since when did you call Jimin, that?"

Busted.

"Hm... did you two fight?" Jin asks, putting a warm hand on your shoulder. He looks at you meaningfully, as if trying to compel you to tell the full truth. You're not falling for that.

"Oh, of course not," you say giggle unconvincingly. "Why would we fight?"

Jimin laughs nervously. "Y/N's right. We didn't fight."

Jin looks like he doesn't believe both of you. But thankfully, he knows not to push it. "Yeah, I expect it was something like Y/N accidentally got a B on one of your tests, Jimin," he jokes, rolling his eyes. "Anyways, I missed you two," he announces joyfully, bringing in you and your teacher for a hug. "I'll treat you two to a nice dinner."

You perk up, face suddenly glowing as you smile—it felt nice to smile, actually. You haven't done it in a while. "Oh thank god," you say. "No more ramen!"

You haven't really had your fair share of awkward dinners, but goddamn, if you had a list, this dinner would be on the very top of it.

Jin is the only one who's trying to strike up a lively conversation as you and Jimin act like brain-dead zombies. You're half-expecting your cousin to give up on his attempts to crack corny jokes, but no, Jin continues on. You guess you're thankful to have him to make the dinner not a complete shitty event.

Halfway through the meal, Jimin checks his phone, his face feigning surprise. "Oh!" he says rather loudly. "Um, something came up... Er, teacher stuff. I've got to go," he says quickly, standing up. "I'll pay."

"Excuse me, Jimin, I said this is my treat. Go on ahead to your... supposed teacher meeting," Jin says, ushering his friend out with the flip of his hand.

Anyone could tell Jimin was just faking this to get the hell out of here, but none of you were actually going to mention it.

Your teacher just looks gratefully at your cousin and practically dashes out of the nice restaurant.

An awkward silence fills the air for a while.

"So... even if the two of you didn't fight, something still happened," Jin says, turning to face you fully.

"It's nothing, really."

"Nothing? Then do you care to explain why you've lost so much weight? You haven't been eating," your cousin lectures. He points at the dark bags under your weary eyes. "And you haven't been sleeping. You're slipping back to your old habits, Y/N. What happened?"

"It doesn't hurt to do some extra studying..." you mutter. "I've got all the time in the world now," you say sarcastically.

Jin sighs, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Y/N," he says sternly. "How many minutes of sleep are you getting a night?"

"Forty-five," you say nonchalantly. "Don't, Jin. It used to be thirty minutes a night so you better not bring out that huge lecture again."

"I thought it was getting better..." your cousin sighs. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, and you know that."

You nod. "I know. But you're here now, right?"

Your cousin looks at you so sadly, you feel like you just might burst into tears. "Y/N, I won't always be here with you. I know I call you my baby cousin, but honestly, you've got to grow up."

His words hit you hard, only because you know he's right.

"I can't always be there to baby you, okay?" Jin says, massaging his forehead with the palm of his hand. "As of now, you're only in high school—in less than a year you'll be going to college. Life is so much more than studying. Stop using that, that shit to distract yourself from things that should mean a lot to you!" your cousin practically yells. He buries his face into his hands.

Your mouth is agape. Jin never cussed. He must be so mad. You fucked up—you've been fucking up for a while, actually.

"Jin," you say, softly shaking your cousin's shoulder. "Jin. I'm sorry."

When he looks up, you're shocked to see smudged tears dwelling on the smooth surfaces of his skin. You've never seen Jin cry—only on stage when it was scripted.

At that moment, you want to tell him everything—you've never actually hidden things from your cousin until Jimin rolled around. You want to tell him about that night Jimin was drunk and kissed you, about your crush on your teacher, how he helped you become the happiest you could be, how a month ago both of you made a huge mistake and kissed... You want to tell your cousin that you've been slipping back to your own habits because you wanted to distract yourself from thinking about him.

But you don't tell him.

"Y/N, I try, okay? I really try to make you happy. Yeah, sometimes it makes me want to rip my hair out, because god, you are such a brat at times!" he chuckles through his tears. "But Y/N, I love you. And I know, whatever has been going on between you and Jimin has been making you happier than ever. It's something I couldn't do for you, and I still beat myself up over that. But something happened between the two of you, and the happiness is gone now. You don't have to tell me anything, but just... don't go studying for hours when you face some sort of problem in your life, okay?"

Fuck, now I'm crying.

You nod, making your tears flow down your face. "Okay. I'm sorry," you manage to say. "I'm so sorry. I've been so selfish—"

Jin wipes your tears away with his soft sweater, pulling you into a tight hug right after. "It's okay. You're still learning, you're only 17. Besides, my outlet is theater. While you were practically starving yourself for a month, I was literally having the time of my life with the drama crew. Don't worry about me too much. I'm not the one who still needs to figure out what to do in life."

All you can do is nod into Jin's chest, sniffling slightly. You love him so much you can't even explain in words.

"Fix things up with Jimin, try, okay? I don't care if you end your senior year having a B, or seven F's—what matters is your happiness. Try to consider that the next time you try to starve and sleep deprive yourself," Jin says softly, his fingers sifting daintily through your hair, caressing it in a way you think a mother would do.

You hum in agreement, your head still resting against your cousin's warm chest. You want to stay like this forever.

But after a few minutes, your cousin tugs you back, smiling brightly at you. "Now, we've put on quite a show in this restaurant, haven't we?" he whispers in a giggly voice.

Whut.

It's only then when you realize this whole episode had happened at the restaurant. In public. You can feel the judging gazes of people.

Oh fuck no.

"Oh my god, this is so embarrassing!" you hiss, gripping your cousin's sweater, face colored bright red as you can't bear to look up again.

Jin laughs heartily. "But what's life without a little public embarrassment?"

He looks up to you as much as you look up to him. As your older cousin, Seokjin always feels the need to take care of you, to make sure you're doing okay. At times, he forgets that he should put himself before others. At times, he forgets that he has a life outside of taking care of you and several grubby high schoolers. At times he forgets who he even is.

But on the days that he forgets, he thinks back to what you always tell him. You, the bratty, but amazing sunshine of his life.

"Jin, you're the goofiest guy I've ever fuc—I mean, freaking met. You'd think such a goofy guy would be empty-headed. But to think that I'm wrong... You're an amazing actor. It's scary to see you on stage sometimes because you're not Jin anymore. Like I swear to fu—flopping god that you change into a completely different person!"

"Y/N, are you complimenting me, or roasting me?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm doing both. One shouldn't take too many compliments at once. It makes them big-headed."

"Well, I can't argue with you, I know that. But you really think I can act?"

"Okay, Jin, I know you can act, alright? I've seen you. Honestly, you should try pursuing it. Oh my god, if you ever get famous, write a play about me!"

Jin chuckles at the memory. He never ever liked letting you see his weak side. To you, he was always some superhero who would always crack up jokes to lighten up any dark mood, his specialty was saving awkward dinners from spiraling out of control.

But since you were deprived of the details of Jin's darker part of his life, he needed someone else to vent to: Jimin.

"Jin, you should start to worry more about yourself than Y/N. Seriously, all you do is talk about her—is she that worrisome?"

"Jimin, bro, you don't even know. She's just... different and I'm so worried about her and how's she's gonna handle you know, life."

"You know what you need to do?"

"What?"

"Take a fucking chill pill. Let the girl be. She's 17, isn't she? You've been babying her too much, you know that? The more you worry about her, the more restricted she'll feel. She'll learn by herself. Life is trial and error—you should know that."

"I—"

"Okay, and in the meantime, holy shit, man, take care of yourself. All you do is teach, take care of Y/N, teach, take care of Y/N, teach, take care of—"

"I think I get the point."

"Yeah? Well, doesn't look like you get it. Jin, do something for yourself for once. What do you like to do?"

"You know, the usual. Sleep... Look in the mirror..."

"If you're not gonna be serious, I'm going to leave—"

"Fine! I like acting okay? I love it. Every year the drama team is invited for competitions and I'm never able to go, so we've been losing every time."

"I presume you can't go to take care of Y/N?"

"Yeah.. uh—"

"I'll take care of her then, buddy. You go fulfill your dream, bro; you deserve it."

"Wait, actually? For real? You'd do that? This better not be one of your jokes."

"Do I look like I'm joking? You deserve to be doing what you want, Jin. Everyone does."

Jin feels so warm inside as he recalls that memory. It was thanks to Jimin that he was able to experience the time of his life at the competition, doing the thing he loved. It had also been thanks to Jimin that you had been happy for quite the longest time.

If Seokjin didn't know any better, he'd say there was just a bit of chemistry between the two of you—it was either that or a solid friendship. But for some reason whatever was there is now gone.

You were colder, more distant than before and even Jimin had stopped laughing so often.

"I know I'm asking you this a lot these days, but are you happy, Y/N? You don't look like it..."

"That's because I'm not. But don't you dare worry about me, it makes me feel selfish. I'm going to find things out when the time comes. You know, I care about you too. And honestly, I want you to stop worrying about me because it's stunting your happiness. I'm 17, I can figure things out myself."

"Can you figure things out by yourself? For real?"

"What did I just say? Yes, I can! I'm telling you, I'm starting to get life, alright?"

Jin shakes his head, sighing. He could always see through your lies. It was painfully obvious you were just saying the things he wanted to hear. He could see the confusion in your eyes whenever you stared at Jimin, he could see how blank your stare was when you were looking at anything else.

So. Obvious.

"Y/N, are you sure there's nothing going on between you and Jimin?"

"I'm absolutely sure."

Jin wasn't so sure you were sure.

The young teacher really hadn't meant to kiss you. Things had just taken an unexpected turn, and judging from your reaction, it had been an enormous mistake. It physically hurt to have lost his other best friend, but he tried hard to not let it affect his life.

He could see it affected you though.

Of course, he had noticed you had lost weight—he also noticed the growing dark circles under your usually sparkling eyes. He could see how much duller you were. He also noticed he was smiling less without you.

Jimin sighs out loud as he makes his way into his car. He really missed having you around, with your unique, spunky personality, beautiful smile and hilarious side comments.

As he's driving, he can't stop thinking about you. Your face, your laugh, god, even your handwriting—sometimes he just spends long minutes admiring your neat penmanship on your tests. He knows every single one of your writing quirks—how you take your time to put a cute little dash over your 7's, or how beautiful your 4's look compared to everyone else's.

Stop it, Park Jimin. You'll crash your car if you don't stop thinking about her.

It takes five minutes longer than it should've, but Jimin finally arrives at the local market, clutching his clear shopping bag. He painfully looks down at it. It reminds him of you.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Um... clear."

"That's not a color, Y/N!"

"Do I fucking look like I care?"

"But that's like saying your favorite fruit is a carrot."

"Wait, my favorite fruit is a carrot! Damn, how'd you guess??"

He can't help but chuckle at the memory, but he abruptly stops, remembering you two won't be able to share memories like this anymore. Sighing, Jimin trudges into the supermarket.

He's been going here a lot these days. Ever since he found out you had not just one sweet tooth, but 28 sweet teeth, he'd been trying to learn how to bake pastries, buying all sorts of ingredients to create saccharine dishes. Just for you.

It wasn't much of a miracle that the last time you had baked together didn't turn out to be a disaster. Jimin had practiced.

He loves cooking with you. You always look ethereal, hair a bit frizzy from the heat and tied back from your face with stray strands brushing against your face. Your cheeks are always flushed and somehow frosting always gets on your forehead. Even thinking about you makes all his sadness and hurt disappear into thin air.

Except, Jimin wasn't going to the store to buy ingredients to bake. He was going to buy some beer. He hadn't gotten drunk ever since he'd accidentally kissed you—the first time, that is. But he figured today, he needed it. He needs to get his mind off of things. He needs to get his mind off of you.

Jimin walks through the aisles, blank-minded, stopping only at the alcohol section. He randomly picks at a pack of beers, knowing he'll probably end up drinking it all today. He grabs it, hand hovering to place the pack in his clear bag.

But again, it reminds him of you.

"I don't know why the fuck you would ever drink. Like, does it taste good? What's the fucking point?"

"I dunno. I just kinda drink it when I want to alleviate stress, I guess."

"Well, that's stupid. You should try ice cream. That stuff makes you feel better right away and it doesn't make you go wack and do hilarious shit you'll end up regretting."

"Are you actually shading me, right now?"

"So what if I am??"

Jimin smiles at the memory. The first mistaken kiss between the two of you was such a joke—you two would always make fun of it. Why couldn't the second one be treated the same?

He sighs, clutching the pack of beer as he puts it back on the shelf. Chuckling to himself, he starts to make his way to the ice cream aisle.

Jimin scans the series of ice cream flavors to choose from. Immediately, the mint chocolate chip ice cream catches his eye, and without hesitation, he takes the tub and places it whole in his shopper.

Y/N's favorite. Jimin smiles, then starts to walk to the checkout, only pausing when he remembers he needs a new set of his favorite red pens. Nodding his head to himself, Jimin makes his way to the office supplies section of the store, scanning the shelves to pick out his favorite.

Big mistake.

As soon as he picks up the 3-pack of his much-needed red gel pens, it reminds him of grading, which reminds him of grading tests, which was exactly what he had been doing just three minutes before he and you had ruined your friendship. Your face looms in his memory.

Something stings inside. It rips his heart and then shrivels it up as if he had dumped it into highly-concentrated saltwater. Like lemon juice on a paper cut—but the paper cut was a gushing wound.

It was as if he only just realized he lost someone crucial to his happiness.

Jimin can't help but make a sour, hurt face, instantly tossing the pack of pens away from him. He doesn't want to deal with bad memories. The pens can wait.

Instead, Park Jimin finds himself wandering back to the alcohol aisle, absentmindedly buying an even larger pack of beers, setting it next to the tub of ice cream. There's enough room in the kitchen for both anyways.

His thoughts are completely blank as he drives home. It's as if the rush of pain he'd felt earlier had hurt so, so much he was now immune to it. It was numb.

He reaches his house, setting down the beer and ignoring the ice cream that would surely melt if kept out in the open; he pauses in his steps, hand midway through raking his hair back. All because he sees his couch.

You loved that couch. Actually, you practically lived on it whenever you came over, insisting to even eat dinner seated on it because "it's fucking comfortable."

When you sleep over, taking his bed, he sleeps on that same couch where he can smell your soothing scent. It lulls him to sleep.

But then comes the fantasies.

"Someone will hear!"

"Let them hear."

"God, Jimin, you have no fucking morals," you breathe shakily. "What if Jin walks in?"

"Jin? Walk in? In my house?" Jimin laughs hotly against your neck. "You're just making excuses, baby girl."

"Why would I make excuses?" you say weakly, gripping the hem of his shirt. "I want this just as much as you do."

"Oh?"

Jimin hums as nuzzles the sensitive part of your neck with his nose.

"R-really, Jimin? But here?" you stutter as your eyes automatically close and your mouth parts.

"We'll take it to the couch, love," he answers, sweeping you up in a smooth fashion and softly laying you on the couch before making his way on top of you.

Your body is enveloped by the plush couch and Jimin whose legs are on either side of your hips. He dips in unhurriedly, his tongue touching your lips before his. You wrap your arms around his neck as Jimin cups your face with both hands, kissing you slowly.

Lips still attached, you tug at the hem of his button-up shirt, and Jimin takes the hint to slowly start unbuttoning it. You shift below him to help him with his buttons and before long, his shirt is off and discarded somewhere on the floor. Only then do you move apart from each other's lips.

You marvel at his fit body, reaching to run your cold fingers across his toned muscles. Jimin doesn't give you enough time to continue your sightseeing as he pushes you back down, playing with the bottom of your t-shirt. He gives you a seductive look as you practically melt under him.

"Why don't we take this off too?"

"J-Jimin..."

Wait a fucking minute. This isn't right.

Jimin sighs loudly as he gives his head a little shake as if it would erase him of that rather inappropriate fantasy. At least he's glad it was one of the more innocent imaginations he's had of you.

But now he feels more broken than ever. You're something he can't have, your relationship only exists in the depth of his mind, hidden away from judgment. Jimin sighs again, ripping open the pack of beers and taking one. It's not even cold, but at this point, he doesn't care.

He just wants to forget.

On second thought, he grabs the whole pack and takes it with him to the kitchen, setting it down, choosing one and cracking it open in one swift move. It's a familiar, refreshing feeling.

Jimin raises the can to his lips, waiting to feel the rush of the bitter contents on his tongue. But he freezes.

He's thinking of you again. It's as if his brain can't function without thinking of you so often. Yet this time, it's not the thought of you, it's the sight. Jimin sees your smiling face, the way your sweet lips part to reveal your smooth teeth in a brilliant grin. He can't but to smile to himself as well.

Almost immediately, he sets the beer down.

Maybe... Maybe you might not want to be friends anymore, but Jimin knows that he does. He figured that's all it takes to make him happy. If the thought of you can make him content, make him choose the right decisions, then he'll just have to continue thinking of you.

He's sorry he moved in to change a friendship into a relationship so fast, and he might just regret it, but in the end, he's glad he's met you.

Jimin slowly picks himself up to grab the tub of your favorite ice cream, scrounging for a spoon. The first bite is heavenly, wonderful and phenomenal.

Just like Y/N.

He shakes his head as he takes another scoop, placing it in his mouth to melt slowly.

Damn. I'm so whipped for her.

You sift heavy textbooks around in your arms, fumbling with your lock before getting it open. Throwing the books in, you sigh as you slam your locker shut. These days, you had lost interest in a lot of things you used to like—school included. Things just seemed so bland. You didn't ever feel like socializing with anyone, forcibly dragging yourself to class every single day.

"Hey, Y/N!" a familiar voice calls as you whip your head around to respond.

"Oh, Jungkook!" you reply, "ah, and Yoongi, Taehyung..." Immediately, guilt courses through your veins. You'd been ditching them during lunch for quite some time now, ignoring their frequent 'where are you?' texts. They'd come to confront you for sure.

"Were you sick?" Jungkook asks as he reaches you. "I didn't see you in school for a while."

"I bet you happened to drop your phone in the toilet as well," Yoongi snarks.

Taehyung coughs awkwardly. "Since you haven't been answering our texts."

"Well, I—" you sigh. How are you supposed to tell them you've been wanting a lot of alone time these days without brutally mutilating their feelings? The answer was too obvious.

"Uh, yeah I was sick. And yeah, I kinda drowned my phone in the toilet," you say. Lies. "I'm sorry if you worried."

"Damn, did you drop your phone in the toilet after you used it, or before?" Yoongi laughs, earning an elbow to the ribs from his truly, Jungkook.

"You don't have to be sorry, Y/N," the sweet math nerd muses, giving Yoongi a dirty look. "We're sorry you haven't felt well. You're better now, right?"

You stand there awkwardly, not wanting to engage in a full-blown conversation. Your daily dose of alone-time was calling, and you desperately wanted to succumb to it.

"Yeah... um, I'm okay, been better. Sorry, I kinda have to go..." you fib. "Um, doctor's appointment?" It sounds more like a question than a solid lie but it'll do for now. "See you sometime later, I guess."

Turning around, you quickly walk away, faintly hearing confusedly murmured goodbyes from your friends. You speed around a corner, finding refuge in the girl's bathroom. Setting your things down in the big stall, you sigh, sitting down on top of your backpack.

It almost feels like the old days.

Except back then, you didn't have to ditch your friends for solitude because you had none. In a way, you feel slightly guilty. Your friends just wanted to hang out with you, it was that simple. But surely, if you hung out with them, you'd ruin the fun and the happy mood.

It's better to not meet them at all than meet them and remember bad things.

It's an upgrade, you think. You used to be afraid that others would hurt you. Now you're afraid you'll hurt others.

Some kind of upgrade.

It's even worse with the situation you have at hand (ahem, the Jimin one). You rarely lift your head up in class, flinching just slightly when he calls your name to solve a problem. It's harder than you think. To get rid of a crush, that is.

Not only that, but it's also wrong to be infatuated with your teacher. You just don't know what to do anymore. Jin didn't buy your feigned happiness—well, any idiot could tell you weren't as content as before. And now you've got a handful of people worrying, fussing over you of all others.

Why couldn't they just leave you alone?

No, that's stupid.

Deep inside, you want them to care, to worry for you. It gives you a feeling that you're not so alone.

"Y/N? You little liar!" a masculine voice screams from the entrance of the girl's restroom.

"Oh shit," you breathe. That was definitely Taehyung. Fuck. Just stay quiet, it's not like they can—

"We're coming in!" Yoongi yells, making the blood drain out of your face.

"Wait, guys!" Jungkook pleads. But it's too late. Yoongi and Taehyung barge into the girl's bathroom, rattling stall doors. Thank goodness you know for a fact no other girls were in here.

Before Yoongi or Taehyung can break down the stalls, you quickly unlatch your door, coming face to face with the two students.

"Ha! I knew you were in here!" Taehyung declares. "Jungkook swore he saw you go to the restroom and not to the office!"

"Doctor's appointment, huh?" Yoongi smirks.

"Well, I—"

"Save it. Jungkook, you little brat, get in here! Stop being a wimp!" Yoongi yells at the top of his lungs.

"Yoongi, will you quiet down? This is the girl's restroom," you hiss.

"But if this is the place you choose to eat your lunch at, we'll be here by your side," Jungkook says, smiling as he timidly walks in the stall. He looks alert as if anyone could open the door to the restroom and catch three teenage boys in a bad act, (which was perfectly plausible).

You don't know how in the hell you're supposed to respond to this. This. This is what friendship should be, isn't it? You'd never really known until now. It's such a beautiful, heartwarming feeling.

"Actually, JK, my man, you can be by her side, Yoongi and I have some business to take care of," Taehyung giggles has Yoongi links his arm around his.

"Wait, huh? That wasn't the pl—"

"Buh-bye!" Yoongi sings, waving his fingers at you and Jungkook as he and Taehyung strut out of the bathroom, not once looking back.

You and Jungkook are completely stunned into silence.

"Wow, they're really out to get us, huh?" you finally say, laughing under your breath.

"Y-yeah," Jungkook agrees quickly. "Listen, Y/N," he turns to you, the surprising sternness in his voice hinting that he was being extremely serious. "I understand you like your alone time, maybe a bit more than others. But sometimes the most dangerous, harmful and hurtful thoughts come when you're in solitude."

He's right and you know it.

"Aw, Jungkook, don't worry, I'm fine!" you say in the most lighthearted way you can. You chuckle sourly inside. No, I'm not.

"Y/N, you're not fine," Jungkook sighs. "For the longest time, I thought you weren't hanging out with us during lunch because... because you hated me or something. But now, I think there's something going on in your life that's hurting you, keeping you from being the better you."

You're speechless.

"Do you have anything to tell me?"

You do.

"I don't."

"Y/N, it's a burden to tell others every single detail of your life and problems, but it's also a burden to not say one single word about it," Jungkook says. "I don't know anything about you except that you like math... I want to know more about you, what goes on in your life, what problems you have. I want to help you."

It's then when you know you've been a mystery to Jungkook. You know a shit ton about him from your friendly talks, but you never talk about yourself. You realize you had only ever told Jimin everything that went on in your life. He was the one who could possibly know you better than Jin, himself. Jimin.

His name echoes in your head, but it feels so empty and dark.

You hadn't even known you were crying until Jungkook wordlessly wipes your tears away with the hem of his sleeve. He softly pats your back, then hesitates before he leans in to embrace you. Something about that makes you start crying. Too bad it's the ugly kind.

Jungkook seems a bit taken back at your sudden burst of tears, but he only holds you tighter, rubbing warm circles in your back. The best part about it is that he doesn't say a single word. He gives you time to cry your heart out, giving you company when you should feel so lonely.

You hiccup, leaning back from Jungkook's chest but still in the warmth of his embrace. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't... I'm so sorry," you blubber. Damn. Why the fuck—

"Unrequited love?" Jungkook asks softly.

You give him a strange look. "I guess you could say that..."

"Thought so," he mutters. "But he loves you back," he declares confidently.

Your head jerks up and you take a second before you start to laugh, the last of your tears dripping down from your chin to the ground. "How would you know?"

"You're Y/N. Everyone loves you back," Jungkook says, grinning. He dabs at your wet cheeks with his sleeve.

"And you're supposed to say that because you're my friend," you chuckle. "Trust me. It's not even 'love.' It's a little crush that I shouldn't even have had in the first place," you explain. "I'll be fine."

Jungkook smiles. "I trust that you will be." He's about to say more, but you hear the restroom door swing open as a few loud, gossipy girls come in.

You quickly tug Jungkook into the stall with you, locking the door. "Oh shit!" you whisper, grabbing at your friend's shirt.

"That was close!" Jungkook chuckles quietly. He smiles at you, and it's so contagious that you can't help but smile back.

You finally realize that you're not alone, that you shouldn't be alone. There are people willing to listen, to help you. There are people willing to break school rules and hang out in the girl's restroom with you, for goodness sake. You need to get over this 'unrequited love' and focus on the better things.

It took you a good ten minutes to escape the girl's restroom with Jungkook safely—curse high school girls who like to gossip their mouths off when they should really be flushing down their business. The two of you spent the rest of lunch casually talking as if you hadn't broken down crying not too long ago. It felt good to talk to someone. Especially since you've been so focused on shutting people out these days.

Now you're in the best mood you've been in months as you practically skip to Jin's drama classroom.

"Today's been a wonderful day!" you belt out singing as you swing open the door, twirling dramatically into the classroom. Looking up from your little happy dance, the color from your face drains as you see Jin and Jimin staring at you in shock.

Okay. I was expecting Jin. But Jimin? Really?

You're so embarrassed. All the mirth from before had officially been drained away.

Jin's the first one to break the silence as he laughs heartily. "A wonderful day? That's great, Y/N! Did Jungkook confess?" he teases.

You roll your eyes. "No!"

Your cousin wiggles your eyebrows at you as from the corner of your eye, you can see Jimin looking down at his shoes. Your heart stings at the sight.

"Yeah, um, so... Let's go home?" you awkwardly suggest, tightening your grip on your backpack.

"Oh right... About that," Jin chuckles nervously. "Jimin's taking you home today."

The light in your eyes extinguishes immediately. "He can't!" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Jimin looks up at your sudden outburst, your eyes meeting.

Crap. Shit. Fuck.

Jin cocks his head. "Don't worry, Y/N, he's not going to crash the car or anything," he laughs. Your eyes plead at your cousin. "Sorry, for the late notice, Y/N. I have some team meeting I have to go to. Now, behave yourself! I'll be home in a few hours. Bye!" Jin gives you and Jimin an equally goofy grin as he sashays out of his classroom, happily waving his hand as a final goodbye.

You internally groan. This was going to be so bad.

—previous | next

—masterlist

#jimin #park jimin #jimin fanfiction #jimin imagine #bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin angst #teacher au #jimin fanfic #illegirl

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rons-hermiones · 3 years

Text

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Twenty Five

Draco had become sparse since returning to Hogwarts. Ron only saw him whenever he was in the Great Hall, or in potions. Both were too crowded to even corner the git.

Of course, he could ask Harry for the map, but that would raise suspicions. Something he wasn’t willing to do yet.

Other than that, the month since arriving back has been what Ron could only describe as routine. Wake up. Eat breakfast. Go to class. Eat lunch. Avoid Lavender. Maybe dinner. Quidditch. Do patrols. Terrible nightmares. Repeat.

In all honesty, he was doing whatever he could to avoid anyone but Harry and Ginny. People so often offhandedly mentioned her, it made him tick.

“Ah, Harry, do you know when Miss Granger will be back? I’ve missed her at dinners.” Slughorn would question every now and again.

“Oi! Dreaming of Granger again?” Seamus would ask as Ron groaned her name in his sleep.

“Did you send my last letter out to Hermione?” Neville would say every time he saw Hedwig.

“Ron, if patrols are too much, we can always get an interim prefect until Hermione’s back.” Katie Bell would tell him.

But what he thinks may be worse, is the pitiful stares of those who knew the truth McGonagall wouldn’t even berate him for late work. Dumbledore always gave him a sad smile. His family's letters were always full of concern for his state. Said letters had little update on the Order, souring his mood.

His mother would ask him what he wanted for his birthday, which was only about a week away now. She couldn’t give him what he wanted though.

His father would write and tell him they’ve placed wards at the Granger’s and currently have an Auror team dedicated to her case. But it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing was.

Times like those, he had nearly shared his suspicions with his father on Draco Malfoy, but soon decided against it.

All he had were silly dreams, a weird instance on the train, and the knowledge of the git spending all his time in the Room of Requirement. It wasn’t exactly concrete. It was nothing really.

On the bright side, he supposes, he’s somehow avoided Lavender quiet well, but he still knows she’s talking of him. Telling people they’re together and whatnot. He just didn’t have the patience to deal with it right now.

All these thoughts soon halted as a small Gryffindor first year came up to him, looking nervous.

“You’re Ron Weasley?” The little boy asked.

Ron nodded. He was after all on duty, so the kid could need help.

“Someone in the common room gave me a knut to find you.”

“Oh?” He questioned confused, “who?”

The first year who he now recognized to be a little boy named Tommy who Hermione once helped him with his Potions work.

The little boy flushed, “I’m not very good with names, but he said it was about, Hermi-“

“Hermione?” Ron cut off anxiously.

He nodded, “Prefect Granger.” He settled for.

“Okay, thanks so much Tommy!” He called, racing to the common room, somewhere he’s avoided for weeks.

In the excitement that Harry knows something it didn’t even dawn on him that he’s the most famous wizard in Britain, so surely Tommy would know his name. No, he doesn’t have time to think about that.

“Honeysuckle!” He called to the Fat Lady.

“Oh! Been a while!” She said smiling to Ron.

He groaned, “Honeysuckle!”

“Calm down! And I try to be polite.” She huffed, swinging open.

Quickly, he climbed through looking around for Harry.

“Oh Weasley. There you are.”

His face dropped.

Harry wasn’t looking for him. Not at all.

“I see you got my message from Tommy. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks, but you’re not an easy man to find.”

Ron’s fists clench at his sides.

“Or when Cormac McLaggan groped her after Slughorn’s this weekend! Tore her dress and all!”

His eyebrow twitched at the memory.

“No one around here will give me an answer you see. I’ve asked just about the entire tower when Granger will be back. Figured you’d give me a straight answer. You and I seem to have her in common.” McLaggen winked.

And before he could help it, Ron’s fist connected with his nose, making him fall to the floor.

Nearby, people gasped at the sight. Unbeknownst to Ron, Neville was there and soon scurried away to get Harry.

From below, Cormac began laughing. “Touchy subject, eh?” He wiped his bloodied nose, “she talked about you, you know. At Slughorn’s. I, of course, was able to take her mind off you.” He propped up on his elbows, staring Ron right in the eyes.

“Didn’t know she’d be such a good fu-“

Before the words left his mouth, Ron dove on the floor and punched his cheek. Next, he grasped at his collar.

“I know what you did to her! You thought you could get away with something like that, huh?” He bit out in a dangerous whisper, laced with venom.

Though scared, Cormac didn’t back down, “I just did what you never could.” With that, he threw Ron off and hit him squarely in the eye.

“I would never, ever, treat anyone, especially her, that way.” He growled, trying to push the seventh year off, “you don’t touch her!” He bellowed.

“Oh so watching you run around with Lavender Brown made Granger the happiest bird in Gryffindor. I don’t think so.” He commented. The whole tower knew about Ron and Hermione’s fall out.

“That’s not the same and you know it!” He defended, kicking him in the groin.

McLaggen cowered in pain for a moment before moving to punch Ron again.

By now they’ve drawn a crowd.

“Run her off, have you Weasley?” He said in between blows.

“You fucker.” Ron grunted, landing one more blow.

“Ron!” Harry had finally arrived, per Neville.

They kept at it. Rolling around.

“Ron!” He called again.

Ron could vaguely hear Harry but ignored him. This felt good. Way too good. For the first time since Hermione disappeared he felt like he was doing something.

“Ron!” A voice, not Harry’s, yelled, grabbing his attention.

Looking up, he found Lavender standing there in shock.

“Ronald Weasley, I cannot believe you!” She shrieked.

Someone had dragged Cormac away, leaving Ron to stand and face her.

“Come on mate.” Harry says, dragging him up.

“Oh no, he’s not going anywhere.” Lavender claimed, crossing her arms and standing between them and the steps.

“I don’t really see why this concerns you.” Ron grunted, wiping some blood with the back of his sleeve.

“Concerns me? I think it does considering you're my boyfriend!” She yells.

“Boyfriend?” He questions, “I made it perfectly clear to you what we were on the train!”

“And I told you-“ she began to retort angrily.

“What? You told me what? That I couldn’t break up with you. That even though I told you it was over, you just denied it! Didn’t you think there was a reason I avoided you for weeks?”

The pair of them ignored the crowd forming. Anxiously, Harry continued tugging at Ron’s robes, but he just shrugged him off.

“This is about her, isn’t it?” She said knowingly with slanted eyes.

Harry knew the mentioning of Hermione did Ron no good. He continuously called out his name.

“Don’t bring her into this. Don’t.” He warned, voice dangerously low.

“So it is?” She fired back.

“Look Lavender, I’m sorry, okay? I really am. I tried for weeks to break it off with you, and you know it!” Sure Lavender was a bit of a ditz, but she wasn’t by any means a moron, “and I should’ve done it sooner. After that night of the match, honestly, and for that I’m sorry. But when I finally bucked up the courage to end it, you said no, so you can’t blame this on Hermione. You put yourself here.” He told her honestly.

“No,” she repeated, tone similar to the one she used on the train, “no because if you weren’t so hung up on that-that Mud-“

“Don’t finish that.” Ginny called from over Lavender’s shoulders. “Ron would never, but I will slap you silly.”

“Great now you have your sister fighting your battles!” She snorted.

“Well Ginny’s right, don’t ever say that word. Ever.” Ron told her fiercely.

“Again, defending her! Tell me Ron, if you want to ruin everything we had for her, then where is she huh? Where is she?”

He said nothing, mood suddenly shifting.

“If you care so much and you’re so desperate to be her knight in shining armor, then where is she?”

Again, he stood still.

“Maybe McLaggen was right. You did run her off, didn’t you?” Lavender laughed menacingly.

“No. No I didn’t.” He almost whimpered.

“Whatever, if she were here I would tell her that she’s nothing but a no-good-boyfriend-stealing slag!” She exclaimed.

“I said to stop it!” Ron yelled back.

“What’d she do? Hex you? Confund you? Tell you she’d do all your homework?” She accused, “or maybe-“

“I love her!” He admitted.

The whole room went silent.

Harry’s hand slackened on his robes. Ginny’s mouth hung open. Gasps filled the air.

“Alright, I’m sorry if that hurts you, but I can’t help that. I love her.” He takes a shaky breath and runs a hand through his hair, “I’ve been in love with her for years. It’s- I’ve tried not to, but I can’t. I just can’t stop.” Ron said, voice riddled with vulnerability.

He’d never have the courage to do something like this knowing someone could run off and tell Hermione as much. But now, now, he didn’t have anything to lose, did he?

It’s not like Bellatrix Lestrange would report the incident back to Hermione, wherever the hell she is.

Suddenly a harsh sting bloomed over his cheek.

Lavender pulled her hand away, shaking it slightly as it stung from slapping him so hard.

“We’re done.” She claimed before stomping upstairs.

It takes a few moments to register everything that just happened.

Beating up McLaggen. Breaking it off with Lavender. Proclaiming his love to Hermione to over half of Gryffindor. Lavender finally accepting it’s done.

“Bugger off or I’ll give the lot of you detention!” Ron yelled to the crowd as he rubbed his cheek thoughtfully.

Scared, the students scampered back to their respective tasks.

“That,” Ginny breathed to her brother, “that was epic.” She said a little dazed.

“Yeah, cheers.” Ron grimaced as he began to throb all over. The initial adrenaline wearing off as both the slap from Lavender and punches from McLaggen began to throb.

“Come on, we better get you cleaned up.” Harry said, pushing him to the steps, “later Gin.” He called.

Wordlessly, Ron let Harry’s hand guide him up the steps.

“Did that really just happen?” Harry whispered a little astonished.

“Which part? The one where beat up McLaggen. Or maybe when I rowed with Lavender in front of everyone. Oh, how about when I admitted I loved Hermione to the whole buggering tower.” Ron grumbled.

“All of it.” Harry said with a slight chuckle as he set Ron onto his bed and searched his trunk for a flannel.

“I reckon McGonagall will be around soon, giving me detention or something.” The ginger groaned in realization.

Harry shrugged and walked over, “You really think McLaggen would tell and fess up to what he did that night?”

The cold cloth fell on his cheek, Ron winced.

“It’s not like Hermione’s here to explain herself. Is she?” He pointed out.

“McGonagall will believe you. She gets that Hermione can’t be here and that she doesn’t know if she’ll be back.”

The word ‘if’ echoes in Ron’s head. When, Harry meant when.

“If?” A voice questions.

It’s not Ron or Harry’s

Soon, they turn.

Neville stands in the doorway. Concern written all over his face. Practically demanding answers with his eyes alone.

“Hermione might not be back?” He questioned, walking further into the room, ignoring their stunned faces.

They sat still again, not knowing what to say. Never have they seen such fire behind Neville’s eyes.

Ron and Harry jumped when he slammed the door.

“Oi listen up and listen good,” he demanded, voice never wavering, “Hermione may be your friend, but she’s mine too, alright! And I may be daft but I’m not stupid!” Neville cried out.

“The lot of you have been acting weird since holiday ended. I know Hermione is quite a touchy subject for you Ron, but don’t think I noticed how angry you got on the train. Or you Harry! You’re a terrible liar.” He pointed out.

“Neville-“ Harry interrupted.

“No! Harry I’ve given you what, six letters since we’ve been here? Six! And not once reply. You don’t even send Hedwig out the window. My bed,” he points to it for good measure, “is right next to yours, I’m not dumb!”

“Mate-“ Ron now interjects.

“And you!” He points to the ginger, “We’ve shared the same room for six years. I've heard you moaning Hermione’s name in your sleep for over half of that! You think I can’t stop the difference?” At least he has the decency to flush, “now, now it’s different. You’re practically screaming for her. I see when Harry wakes you up, tears down your face. Hell, it pierces your silencing charms.”

The pair exchange a look. They never figured Neville would be the one to figure it out, well that’s not entirely true. They just didn’t think he’d be bold enough to confront them.

“So I’m asking you, not only as your friend, but Hermione’s too. Would someone please just tell me what the hell is going on!” Neville finishes with a huff.

His eyes flick between Ron and Harry waiting for a response. Soon, Harry averts his gaze to Ron, who sits for a moment, before nodding slowly.

“You’re right Neville, we haven’t been honest.”The chosen admits.

The brunette huffs a gasp of air, “I knew it. This would’ve been a bit awkward if I was wrong.” He says like himself again.

“Look mate, Dumbledore told us not to tell anyone, you have to swear you won’t say anything.” Ron says seriously.

“I swe-“

“This is life or death, I mean it.” He added.

“I swear.” Neville states, tone leaving no room for argument.

Weasley then looks to Harry to explain, not having the heart to.

“On Christmas Hermione was taken by,” he gulps, eyeing his friend thoughtfully, “by Bellatrix Lestrange.”

A pained look comes across Neville’s face at the mention of her name. That woman’s caused enough hurt to last him a lifetime. To last anybody a lifetime.

“No.” He breathed.

Sadly, Harry nodded, “she came to the Burrow and-“

“H-h,”

He briefly eyed the room then shoved it away, thinking he was just hearing things.

“Harry.”

No, it can’t be. He must be losing it.

“Mate?” Ron asks worriedly.

“Ha-Harry P-Potter.”

This time it’s louder. It sounds so un-Hermione like, but deep down he knows it’s her.

He stands from the bed shushing Ron with a wave of his arm.

“Harry J-James Po-Potter.”

“Hermione.” Harry breathes before he can help himself, willing Ron to stand and give his friend his full attention.

“T-the b-boy,”

“You’re so close.” He whispers through gritted teeth.

It’s louder now, almost piercing his skull. The pain coming is familiar, but somehow welcome. He knows she needs him.

“The boy who lived.”

At this, the dark haired boy falls to a heap on the floor. Thrashing about as he clutches his temples.

“A pillow Neville, now!” Ron shouts.

Neville obeys and props one underneath their friends head.

This time doesn’t last long. Only a few seconds.

When Harry comes to, his eyes burst open as he gasps for air, sitting up.

He soon meets Ron’s worried eyes and he can only say one word. The very same Hermione was crying out to him.

“Malfoy.”

#Ron Weasley #Ron and Hermione #ron x hermione #rons-hermiones come find me #Hermione Granger #romione fanfic #romione #sixth year #hp fanfic #hp

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calcifermovesthecastle · 3 years

Text

Self insert Vento Aureo

not a reader insert

Cw: mentions of non-con and trauma, blood

I woke with a start 3 days later, the faint memory of a nightmare clinging to my mind. I bit my lip, crawling out of bed when I noticed Abbacchio wasnt with me.

The second I reached the living room, I heard voices in the kitchen. I stood against the wall, chewing my lip.

"No, I know she's supposed to stay with me, but It seems like for the next three weeks I'm going to be gone for days on end, and She won't be safe home alone. Mista can take her for a couple nights, but she needs somewhere safe, and safest is with you."

"I don't mind watching her, but Bucciarati, this is excessive." I could hear Abbacchio sigh, and I bit down, trying to work through what I was hearing. Bucciarati sighed himself, and I heard footsteps.

"She is asleep now, right?"

"Yeah, out cold. She went to bed at 5."

"Good. I'm just… I'm worried. This stand user is targeting girls her age and I don't want her to worry about it. I know she's capable, But these girls are disappearing without a trace. Not to mention I'm doing my damned best to find her rapist. Every time I pick up a trail, it falls out of my hands. Please, watch her."

"You know I'm going to, but I like my privacy, Bucciarati."

"I know… I hate to put this on...Did you hear that?"

I had bit a chunk out of my lip when I heard Bucciarati's words, and gasped when blood spurted in my mouth. I brought a hand up to my mouth, debating on walking into the kitchen or going to the bathroom. I didn't think fast enough, because the light in the living room was turned on, and Bucciarati and Abbacchio stepped in.

"Sasa, I thought you were asleep," Bucciarati said gently. I kept my mouth covered, swallowing.

"...had a nightmare."

"Are you okay?"

"No." I swallowed again. "I bit my lip pretty bad."

"You really have to stop chewing on it." He walked over to me, moving my hand. I couldn't tell if I was mad at him or not, so I recoiled from his touch. Concern flickered across his features. "What was the nightmare? You look shaken up."

"I don't remember the nightmare. Why do you hide things from me?! Why does everyone keep things from me? I'm a member of Passione. I have a stand. Fuck, I was the one who was raped, Bucciarati, so why hide information about it from me? If I meet the criteria to be kidnapped by some mysterious stand user who targets girls my age, why keep it from me? Why not tell me, so I can be on guard?! Why do you insist on treating me like a child, Bucciarati?"

"It's not because I'm underestimating you, Sasa." He sat on Abbacchio's couch, beckoning me over to sit next to him. I shook my head, crossing my arms. He sighed. "You're very capable. You're very bright, and you're strong. But you are only 14, and you have no business being in the mafia so young. The only reason you joined is because you were born with a stand. And because you went behind my back to pass Polpo's test. It breaks my heart seeing you go down this path."

"It's better than my parent's path. At least I'm not overdosing on Heroin." I bit down on my lip, flinching when I bit my wound instead. Bucciarati sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's… It's not like I'm asking for you to let me go with you, Bucciarati." I spoke slowly, so my voice wouldn't shake. I was mad after all. "I just want you to keep me informed on things. Especially if it involves my attacker. I don't like being kept in the dark."

Bucciarati looked up at me, something flickering behind his eyes. He stood and took my hand, leading me back into the bathroom.

"Sasa, look in the mirror. Your nightmares are getting worse and more frequent. You've lost enough sleep to kill. You're working yourself to the bone trying to catch up with school. You look sick all the time, and I know it's because you're stressed. You've got to start taking care of yourself. You don't have to be working all the time to be appreciated and valid. Honestly, it makes me happiest to see you acting like a normal kid your age, when you're doing schoolwork or having fun with Mista. And now, I need you to stay with Abbacchio for a little while longer while I work, okay?"

"Why- I feel like I'm intruding. Why Cant He come stay with Us? That way he can have his own space and I can sleep in my own bed? And then I won't have to worry about you If you're going to be home periodically."

"See? You're brilliant. I didn't think of that. Please, Sasa, for me. Take the backseat and focus on other things right now."

"You know I can't do that, Bucciarati." I swallowed, grabbing a wad of tissues and pressing them to my lip. "You said it yourself. My nightmares are getting more frequent."

Bucciarati cupped my face in his hand, pondering me. "How about this. We'll compromise. I'll keep you updated on everything that concerns you, and you focus on school instead of work, okay?"

"That-that's fair, Bucciarati." My hands shook. "O-oh. um, do you have-"

"Abbacchio told me, Sasa. I put a whole pack in the cupboard for you. But let's get you home, hm?"

"I'd like that…"

Bucciarati smiled, wrapping me in a hug, which I returned, squeezing my eyes shut.

After my much needed shower with my own products, I went out to the living room, sitting quietly on the love seat. Abbacchio and Bucciarati were sitting on the couch, barely any space between them. I chewed my lip quietly for a moment, my hair dripping onto my clothes. Bucciarati opened his eyes when I walked in, smiling at me.

"Are you ready for bed, Bimba?"

"I just have a little bit of homework to do…" I looked between him and Abbacchio, sighing.

"That can wait. I called into your school yesterday and told them you'd be out for a while."

"You just told me to focus on school!" I couldn't hide the frustration in my voice, and I flopped back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling. "Which is it, Bucciarati?"

"It's not… it's not safe right now, Sasa." Bucciarati chose his words carefully. "And besides, this time off will help you catch up a little bit. You can work at your own pace."

"By keeping me locked up at home. Great." I rubbed my eyes. I wasn't really being fair, and I knew that, but I was tired. It didn't justify it, but it explained it.

"Oi," Abbacchio's voice was sharp, and he stood, grabbing my face and leaning down. "He's only doing this so you don't get attacked again, monello. Or did you want to risk your life, have it happen again, for more hours filled with more nightmares? Watch your mouth."

"H-" my voice caught in my throat, and I searched Abbacchio's face, betrayed and hurt. He realized his mistake in a moment, his face falling when he saw the tears rising in my eyes. "How can you say that i- that I want that?"

"Abbacchio, let go of her." Bucciarati's voice was soft, but stern. As soon as I was free, I stood, slowly, staring up at Abbacchio with the same horrified look. I glanced over at Bucciarati, quickly, before turning on my heel and walking quietly and slowly back to my room, locking the door.

I cried myself to sleep.

For the next two days, I kept myself locked away in my room. I cried, a lot, a lot more than I wanted to, but it would be random bursts out of nowhere.

I didn't have an appetite, so I didn't eat. The only time I left my room was to go to the bathroom across the hall.

There was a knock on the door later that night, and Abbacchio's voice leaked through.

"Sasa, I ordered takeout. Come eat something."

I frowned, slamming my pencil down on my math workbook.

"I'm not hungry. I don't want anything. Just put it in the fridge or toss it. And leave me alone."

My voice cracked, and I angrily wiped my eyes, looking in the mirror and seeing the face of my rapist instead of mine. I turned away, before taking the blanket from my bed, covering the mirror with it. I tightly shut the blinds to my window as well, and used a tee shirt to cover up my smaller mirror.

I didn't sleep well that night, spending what time I was asleep in nightmares, and the rest staring up at my ceiling.

The next time there was a knock at my door, it was Mista's voice.

"Hey, can I come in?"

"No. I'm busy with school right now."

"From what I hear, you've been busy with school for five days. Have you eaten anything?

"I'm not hungry. Sorry, could you go? I'm trying to concentrate on this."

"Sasa-"

"GO!" I slammed my hands down on my books, irritation coursing through my veins.

I was left alone for the next day and a half. I snuck out of my room when I heard Abbacchio's snores, to get a glass of water and to eat something light- i think it was an apple- before scurrying back to my room and slamming the door when I heard him get up.

I recognized the next knock, and dreaded the events that followed. I doubled down, trying to focus on my math. 5x40.

"Sasa, can I come in?" Bucciarati's voice gave nothing away, and I groaned, frustrated.

"Not right now, Bucciarati. I'm trying to do my homework."

"I'll ask one more time, Sasa. This is your chance to let me in."

"No," I said firmly. "I don't want to see anyone right now."

"That's too bad, Sasa." I heard a zipper, and Bucciarati stepped in, blinking in surprise when he saw the state the room was in.

My overhead light was off, the only light source being my bedside lamp. There was no blanket on my bed, it was still covering the mirror.

I flinched when Bucciarati flicked the lightswitch, blinking rapidly to adjust to the new light. When he sat on the edge of my bed, I scooted further away, staring firmly down at my schoolwork.

"Bimba, we have to talk about this," he began gently, reaching over and pulling my books off of my lap. "You can't lock yourself away like this."

"I-" I took a deep breath, trying not to snap at him. I really didn't want to, but my mood wasn't the best. I just swallowed and let him continue, shaking my head.

"Has Abbacchio apologized?"

I shook my head. "He bought takeout a couple days ago, but I wasn't hungry."

"Have you let him apologize?"

Slowly, I shook my head. "I don't know if im- if I'm ready to forgive him for that. I know he says a lot of things out of frustration but… but this one meant something and it really, really hurt me."

"How much have you eaten, Sasa?"

"An apple, I think. I'm not hungry. I just feel sick. I- I am drinking water though." I gestured vaguely to the glass on my bedside table, frowning. "How much longer am I going to be out of school?"

"I haven't caught him yet. Fugo and I were out all week, but the most we got were some of his subordinates. It's freezing in here, Sasa. Have you been sleeping without a blanket all week? Why is it covering your mirror?"

"I kept seeing his face." I swallowed. "In the window too. 's why my blinds are shut." I finally met Bucciarati's face, my lip trembling. His brow was knit, and he reached out and took my hand.

"Right, Sasa. Come on, out to the kitchen. I'm going to make you some food before I have to get going again. And you have to eat it."

I knew there was no point in arguing with him, so I stood and followed him out to the kitchen. Abbacchio was sitting at the table, so I remained standing.

"Sit down."

"I-"

"Sasa, sit down."

I sighed, pulling a chair out and sliding into it. Abbacchio looked up at me, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry for saying what I said. There's no excuse for it."

"You really hurt me, Abbacchio. You have to be careful with what you say. Sometimes they're not an 'in the moment' kind of thing." I swallowed, hesitating for a moment before reaching over and grasping his hand. "Just don't say anything like it ever again, and I'll forget about it.

"I promise." He squeezed my hand, pulling it up to press his lips to it. I gave him a wobbly smile.

Bucciarati set a bowl down in front of me, ruffling my hair and squeezing my shoulder. I broke down, tears filling my eyes and spilling over.

"It's alright, Bimba." Bucciarati sat next to me, keeping his hand on my shoulder. "Eat your soup, okay? And watch some TV. I'll be back tomorrow."

That night, I sat next to Abbacchio on the couch, and he turned the TV on. I didn't really pay attention to the movie, instead finishing my math workbook. He checked it over for me, smiling when he saw that I got it all right.

The movie ended, and he got up and put a new one in. I smiled when I saw that it was Jaws.

"Is this your attempt at a peace offering?"

"Is it working?"

"You didn't have to in the first place." I met his eyes, reaching for his hand. "Really. I do appreciate it though."

He lounged back on the opposite end of the couch, and halfway through the movie, I lay down with my head resting on his stomach. He brushed my hair out of my eyes so I could see, and by the time the movie had reached its climax, I had fallen asleep.

(Bucciarati's POV)

I walked in my house around 4 am, having no new leads on who this stand User was. I heard noises coming from the living room and peeked in. The news was on low, and when Abbacchio saw me, he shushed me, nodding down to Sasa. I smiled when I saw her finally resting, and finally looking like she was getting good sleep."

"How long has she been asleep?"

"Since 7. I put Jaws on after she finished her math homework and she passed out on top of me about halfway through. She's doing much better. Not a single problem was wrong."

"Really?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "I'm impressed. She's really been struggling with Math lately." I glanced at her as she took a deep breath and shifted a bit, turning to Abbacchio when her breathing evened out. "Do you want a coffee?"

"Sure, I'll take one."

I disappeared into the kitchen, returning with the two coffees and sitting on the floor, leaning against Abbacchio's legs. He took his mug and sipped it, closing his eyes.

"Anything interesting on the news?"

"Nah, just bullshit politics and what the weather's gonna be like today," Abbacchio looked down at me, his lips quirking up in a smile. ""Anything interesting happen last night?"

"Nah, we're no closer. This guy hides himself really well." I finished my coffee, setting the mug aside.

I found myself dozing off as well.

(Abbacchio's POV)

I flipped through the channels on the tv until I found something worth watching. Both Bucciarati and Sasa were out cold against me, both snoring softly. It was quiet while I watched an old documentary- something about ancient egypt- and I stayed as still as possible until I felt Sasa move. I looked down in time to see her eyes flutter open. She looked up at me, blinking slowly as if registering I was there.

"Time is it?"

"Shh… It's… 12:30." I reached over and adjusted her blanket. She nodded, yawning, and turned, seeing Bucciarati's head resting against my leg. She was quiet for a moment before turning to me.

"Tell me the truth, Abbacchio. Are you two…?"

"I don't know, Sasa." I sighed. "Sometimes it feels like it, but other times it just seems that there's that barrier of professionalism."

"Screw Professionalism." She yawned, snuggling closer to me. "I think you two should. I want to see you both happy, and Every time you're together, you both look so...at peace with things. I dunno. I wish you would, and then you could move in here. I'd like having my two dads together."

I looked down at her, nonplussed. "What?"

"I think you heard me, Abbacchio. And I know you know that I mean it."

#jjba x oc #vento aureo #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken

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