Tumgik
#but this scene is shorter and sweeter and gets the point across all the same
edie-baby · 3 years
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Baby Boy Chapter 10 (S) | Lando Norris
Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.
Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (THIS CHAPTER TOO), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.
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Mila and Lando arrived back at the hotel where both of their teams were staying. Mila offered her room for their movie night as it had the privacy of the master bedroom where they could have some privacy in case Victoria was staying in tonight. However, as they approached the pair’s room, they saw Max sitting outside on his phone, a determined look on his face when he looked up and saw his target.
With a purposeful march, Max made it to Milana in a few seconds, and without warning, pulled her in by the waist and kissed her. Not wanting to interfere as the two weren’t together, Lando stood behind the pair, waiting for a reaction from Mila so that he could either pull Max away from her or go back to his own room alone. The former happened, as Mila’s arms were desperately swatting at Max’s chest to get him off her. Lando yelled out for Alex as he knew his best friend was staying on the same floor as Mila. Alex popped his head out and saw Lando pulling Max away from Milana.
“Hey mate, let’s get you to your room. I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” Alex tried to calmly move the large driver back to his room without causing a scene with the already annoyed Mila and furious Lando. He got him far enough down the hall that Mila felt that she could pull Lando and herself into her room without risk of the raging bull of a RedBull driver coming barging into the room.
Lando was even angrier than when the two had left the restaurant. Mila wanted to calm him down, but truly had no idea how to as she and Lando didn’t know all that much about each other. Mila stood halfway across the room from Lando, close to the front door of the room, feeling comforted by the slightly enclosed space. He could feel her looking at him, not knowing what to do or say or think, but Lando needed to do something. His footsteps were quick as he crossed the room, merely two seconds from when he first made a move until when he was right in front of her.
Lando roughly grabbed the sides of Mila’s face and kissed her with all of the frustration, the passion, the anger, the desire, the need he had for her. Her lips tangled with his in a perfect duet, her hands holding tightly to his wrists. The two separated to breathe, and Lando took a step back, breathing heavily as he attempted to process what he had done. She had just been forcefully kissed by Max, and now here he was doing the exact same thing.
His spiralling thoughts were cut off by the collar of his sweater being roughly tugged closer to the floor, where he realised the shorter woman was begging for him to kiss her again. He did so, just as hard as the first kiss, their noses bumped, their teeth clashed at some point, but neither noticed nor cared. All that mattered was them, together, and him, and her. The kiss seemed to heat up even further, Mila’s hands tugging on the brown curls she adored so much while Lando’s hands travelled to the back of the girl’s thighs to pick her up, her legs wrapping around his waist before he drove them both into the wall, his hand cradled the back of her neck, his thumb putting pressure on the side of her jaw. He used his finger to turn her head, his kisses moving to her neck, immediately targeting her pulse point on the side of her neck. He began sucking hard on the skin, and Mila couldn’t help but cry out from the overwhelming pleasure. His hips ground into hers, using the wall as leverage so he could get even more friction between their bodies. He continued to suck blood to the surface of the skin on her neck and the small portion of exposed skin of her chest that he could access with her dress still on. His feverish kisses moved back to her lips while he carried her toward the closed bedroom door. He used one arm to support Mila’s weight, using the other to turn the handle of the door, he kicked the door shut behind them before turning to push Mila up against this door as well. His hands began travelling more, his hands squeezing her ass, hoisting her thighs up higher for a better angle to grind into her cunt. And all Mila wanted was to get his damn shirt and sweater off. He chuckled, pulling her away from the door to move to the bed. Lando dropped the short girl onto the bed, who immediately sat up on her knees to help Lando get his tops off. He pulled the sweater over his head in one movement, and Mila had to admit it was such a sexy thing, for absolutely no reason other than it was Lando doing it. Her fingers were shaking with anticipation as she popped each shirt button undone until Lando was standing there in an unbuttoned shirt, his tanned skin and muscular torso all for her to see. His hair was in disarray and his lips were swollen and she had never felt luckier.
Without wasting any more time, Mila pushed Lando’s shirt off his shoulders, watching as it fell to the floor. His biceps had grown even more since she had first met him, and without the hindrance of a shirt, she could finally appreciate them for all that they were. Lando, however, wasn’t much in the standing around mood. His lips reattached to Mila’s, and his hands made quick work of the zipper on the back of her dress. His calloused hands ran over her shoulders, down her arms, and then followed the curve of her waist to her hips where the material finally fell to a heap on the bed, pooling around her knees. Lando’s eyes took in her heaving chest, covered by a sheer and orange bra, complete with the matching panties.
“You’ll be the death of me, Princess.” Lando’s voice was deeper and raspier than Mila had ever heard it before. And the pet name had her soaking through her panties. Lando laid her back on the bed, his kisses becoming softer and sweeter. His hand slid beneath her back, his teeth latching onto her nipple through the material of the bra, making her back arch. He undid her clasp with one hand, his other already occupied with hitching her leg higher up on his waist to allow a better angle to grind down into her. The coarse material of his jeans provided the most blissful friction right against her clit, and a hungry moan left her throat. She tossed her bra across the room after finally getting her arms out of it. Lando sat up on his knees between her legs, admiring the woman beneath him.
Mila’s eyes were closed, her head back against the pillow as she attempted to catch her breath in the brief pause. Her arms reached out for Lando, desperate to run her hands through his hair, to feel the muscles in his back working to keep him above her. Lando had grabbed her hands and tied them above her to the headboard, much like she had done to Max and Daniel. Except she had never been restrained before, she had always been the one in control.
And suddenly, the conversation about why Lando had such a passion for driving flashed in her mind.
But it's exhilarating, having all of the power, being the one in charge. It fuels me.
Lando sat back on his knees again, enjoying the view of Mila all tied up and ready for him. The hungry look on her face told him she was enjoying it a lot more than she might have expected, and Lando was about to make damn sure she enjoyed herself.
Mila felt caged, like prey. With her arms tied tight above her head, and Lando’s arms now on either side of her head to support his weight, she suddenly knew exactly why people loved to be dominated. Lando was watching her face, studying her when he saw the change in her eyes. Her eyes changed from dark brown to almost black due to the size of her pupils. A cocky smirk formed on his lips as he let his lips brush over hers and quickly moved away before she could make contact with him. The meekest whimper left her lips, and all of the blood left in Lando’s head travelled straight to his cock.
Lando’s attention moved from Mila’s face to her neck, the roadmap of hickeys would need to be continued now that he had her dress off. His lips began at her collarbone, and from there travelled to the valley between her boobs, reaching over once or twice to leave a mark on her tits. He couldn’t resist flicking his tongue over her pierced nipples just to hear the whines she would let out, and god did they please him. He continued further down, across her stomach, the sensitive spot on her hip bone that deserved a nice, purple love bite.
The orange panties were just too cute. They perfectly matched the papaya of the McLaren, he’d have to ask her to wear this on Sunday while he races, you know, for good luck.
Lando’s index fingers hooked into the waistband of the panties, his cold metal ring brushing along her waist accidentally. A shaky gasp pulled his attention away from the task at hand, and he looked up only to immediately meet Mila’s eyes. She was watching him, enraptured. He sent her a wink and licked his bottom lip in a quick swipe. Mila let out another one of those pathetic little whimpers that sent a shiver down his spine and right to his throbbing cock.
He pulled the panties off in a swift motion, he wanted to taste her, needed to taste her. His large hands took their place on the inside of her thighs, parting them just enough to fit his head between. He sucked a quick love bite onto the inside of her left thigh, making eye contact with the Czech as he swiped his tongue up her folds for the first time.
“You taste so good, Princess. So fucking sweet.” Lando growled, diving back into her folds with his tongue, licking a wide stripe up until he felt a little metal ball. He looked up at Mila with a raised eyebrow, using his fingers to part her folds and take a peek at the piercing in her clit. Mila looked at him sheepishly, but Lando only looked even more excited. With the heavy eye contact again, he sucked her clit into his mouth, using the barbell of the piercing to twist and turn and get every angle he could get his tongue onto her clit. Mila was biting her lip so hard, he was sure it was about to bleed. He moved his head from her cunt to look at her with a disappointed look.
“I want everyone in this fucking hotel to know that you’re finally getting treated right. And by who.” Lando’s mouth was right next to her ear, telling her directly what he wanted from her. He caressed her cheek with his hand, his thumb resting on her bottom lip. She quickly took the finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and bobbing her head as much as she could. Lando swiped two fingers through her folds before bringing them up to her mouth and whispering to her.
“Taste yourself Princess.”
Mila gladly took his fingers again, working them with everything that she had, and he watched her in admiration as she looked up at him with those eyes. Mila released his fingers with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his middle finger to her bottom lip. He swiped his finger across her left nipple and blew cold air onto it, and Mila moaned freely.
Lando left wet kisses from her tits to her cunt, picking up exactly where he left off, his tongue working her clit while his fingers teased her entrance, hearing the whimpers from Mila only spurred him on further. He slid his middle finger in, curling it, stretching and preparing her for the second while still stimulating her clit and that lovely little piercing. Mila’s moans now where growing in volume. Lando added a second finger, scissoring them, then curling toward himself to brush over her G-spot, his fingers working in perfect time with his tongue to create a symphony of whimpers, moans and Czech curses falling off of her maroon lips. Her moans were as loud as yelling now, and he was sure the surrounding rooms would be hearing her already, and Lando was only just getting warmed up.
He added a third finger, continuing his coordinated movements, brushing up against the bundle of nerves ever so often to elicit a particularly loud moan. His eyes were locked on hers, his tongue still devouring her clit and folds. Lando decided to step it up a notch, and snaked his free hand around the outside of Mila’s leg to allow his fingers to rub her clit with a pace his tongue simply didn’t have. Mila’s moans quickly turned to a higher pitch, growing louder with each one as Lando’s fingers continued to scissor within her, his other hand rubbing her clit and putting pressure on it, while his tongue added stimulation to her clit.
“Fuck, Lando. I’m gonna cum. You’re so fucking good. Oh fuck!” Mila spoke each phrase between moans and pants. Lando increased his pace even more and had Mila screaming in pleasure in a few moments. Her vision had gone white, and a blinding hot feeling had covered her body. It seemed to light up every neuron in her body with a newfound purpose, and she wondered if sex was always supposed to feel like this.
Lando helped her ride out her orgasm, slowing his fingers to a slow pace, and stopping his assault on her clit. As Mila caught her breath and came back to reality, Lando licked his fingers clean, Mila caught the last few seconds, and figured it was safe as she would have cum again had she watched him from beginning to end.
“You were so good, Princess. You let the whole floor know just how good I can make you feel, but I want the entire hotel to know. You think you can help me with that baby?” Lando asked, Mila was still mentally recovering from her world shattering first orgasm, she didn’t know if she could take another. But she needed him. God, she wanted him too.
It was torture for Mila to watch Lando undo his jeans, and slide them and his Calvin’s down without being able to touch him. She wanted to taste him, wanted to touch him, wanted to feel him. He granted her wishes quite quickly, as after he rolled a condom on, he ran his tip up and down her folds, sighing in pleasure at the sensation. He pushed into her slowly, pulling her legs further up his waist. He bottomed out and leaned down to kiss her slowly, pouring his true feelings into the kiss. She returned it, the same emotion flowing between them.
Mila wiggled her hips, urging Lando to move. He slowly pulled almost all the way out, and then snapped his hips to meet hers, burying himself to the hilt again. A cry tore from Mila’s throat as Lando set his pace, snapping his hips to meet hers at a bruising speed. Mila’s moans were high pitched, loud, and frequent, she wasn’t even trying to make the hotel hear her, but if Lando kept up with this, they were sure as hell going to know.
Lando hoisted Mila’s legs onto his shoulders so her could drive deep down into her, and for the first time all night, he let his hand close around her throat. As soon as he did, Mila’s eyes rolled back into her head, her moans even louder than before. Lando could feel himself slipping to the edge with the pace and angle he was at, and he knew Mila would get there, but he needed her to have the world’s best orgasm, because he was in control now. With one hand, he began undoing the belt that held her wrists to the headboard. His hips still snapping at the same pace, Mila barely knew what was going on due to the pleasure pouring into her body at a high rate of knots.
Lando pulled out and turned Mila onto her front. She quickly got up onto her knees and leaned her shoulders and face into the mattress, her back arched at an angle that would give Lando a hard-on any time of day. He lined up with her entrance, his hands grabbing onto her hips with a bruising grip. He slid into her easily due to how wet she was, and this new angle allowed for a much faster pace. Mila was screaming in pleasure now, her moans no longer expressive enough of the wondrous job Lando was doing. He felt himself nearing the edge, after waiting to touch himself for so long, he knew he wouldn’t last a long time, especially if Mila kept clenching around him like she was. Lando reached forward and grabbed Mila’s hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail so he could hold her to his chest while fucking up into her.
The added hair pulling was the last push over the edge, and Mila fell back against Lando, who was basically being milked by Mila’s cunt, and came as well. If Mila thought her first orgasm was Earth-shattering, there were absolutely no words to describe what had just happened to her. It took multiple minutes for the both of them to come back down to Earth and rejoin reality. Lando was laid beside Mila, still slightly out of breath. He stood up to throw the condom in the bin, then reached his arms out for Mila to grab onto.
“C’mon baby, let’s have a shower. You’re not going to wake up early to have one before your breakfast with Vic. Plus, we’re a bit sweaty.” Lando giggled as Mila looked up at him with an incredulous look. He pulled her up from the bed, planting a sweet kiss to her lips before leading her into the bathroom. Lando stepped aside to turn the shower on and get it up to temperature, leaving Mila in front of the large bathroom mirror. She gasped and looked on, horrified, at her neck and chest. Every inch of her neck and collarbones were covered in hickeys, along with a trail of them leading to and from each boob. She looked accusatory at Lando, waving her pointer finger in the air at him like a mother.
“It’s not that bad, at least Max will get the hint now.” Lando growled, pulling Mila closer to his chest. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her for another kiss. The water was finally at what Lando deemed the ‘perfect temperature’ and as they got in, Mila understood exactly why. She felt the sex scum wash off of her immediately, and felt more relaxed than she had since she arrived in Austria. Lando and Mila helped cover each other in bubbles before washing off and getting into a bit of a water fight in the process. They climbed out, drying off with the overly fluffy hotel towels, and climbed into bed naked, wanting to enjoy each other as much as possible before Lando had to focus on the race weekend.
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moonchildsaurora · 3 years
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Garden of Words
✤ prince/king!Yunho x tailor!reader ✤ genre: Prince AU // angst, fluff ✤ t/w: sfw, lots of bittersweetness, rated PG ✤ count: 3.5k+ ✤ [ part 2 ] of Lacuna miniseries
a/n - look, when I was writing my plan out for this, my notes only centered around the garden scene. . .and here we are 3000+ words later hahahaaaaaa, this is what happens when the mind goes “what if” and gets invested in the before/after rather than just the now 😔 one day I’ll be able to write shorter, sweeter pieces but today isn’t the day. I’d like to whole-heartedly thank anyone who reads through this entire piece, for your time and hopefully it was worth it. Also I’ve decided to have a little bit of fun with subtly featuring other members in each others’ mini stories, so see if y’all can spot who the next character we’ll be visiting next! 💙 P.S. paragraphs in all italics are flashback scenes!
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“Excuse me, are you the fae of the garden?”
The watering can of butterscotch shade in your hands tilted back to pause in the sprinkling of water droplets on the freshly bloomed red gardenias. Turning around, you found the source of the small tinkling voice.
“Good morning Young Prince,” you greeted him, setting the watering can down on a nearby bench before making your way over. Sunlight shone abundantly down on the Royal Glasshouse, some areas where the stained-glass windows stood were bathed in colourful hues. Where the light hit your peachy robe made of georgette-silk gave an ethereal glow to your figure.
The Young Prince looked at you with wonder as you bent down to his level before speaking to him again, “and how did you manage to find your way here, little one?” You recognised the mahogany velvet capelet that wrapped around his form; after all, just two weeks ago were you tirelessly hand-sewing those dainty pearls that left a trail of constellations across the velvet surface.
“Hmm…I followed the pretty blue butterflies!” the Young Prince excitedly pointed to where several of them were fluttering over the yellow hibiscuses. Of course he would, he is the King’s son after all and his smile was perfect proof of that too.
Your eyes soften and the sides of our lips tilted further up, “Well they definitely have led you to a special spot haven’t they?”
“Please don’t tell anyone!” the Young Prince turned to look behind him quickly, as if to check if the coast was clear before taking a few shy steps closer to you. He brought up his little hands to cup them around his mouth and anticipating that he was going to whisper, you leaned in with a listening ear. 
“I’m not supposed to come here on my own but Father brings me here sometimes and always tells me that the flowers here are most happy because of the fae who cares for them. I wanted to meet the fae because they never are around when Father and I are here.”
With great effort you suppressed the giggles that threatened to spill out, not wanting the Young Prince to think that you were laughing at him but rather at how adorable of a pout he formed by the end of whispering his little secret to you.
“Who told you that you couldn’t come here by yourself?”
“Everyone says that this glasshouse is Father’s most favourite and no one should come in without him saying ok. Even Mother doesn’t come here.”
Now it was all starting to make more sense to you, trust him to give you a title like fae of the garden. Letting out a gentle sigh, you gave the Young Prince a reassuring smile and held out your pinky.
“I promise not to tell, if you don’t.”
His eyes sparkled immediately as his little pinky was quick to curl around yours, “Oh thank you great fae!”
The soft spot in your heart grew once more.
“Would you like to see what fresh blooms will greet us today, Young Prince?” 
The initial shyness he had melted away and the eager tug on your hands with a delighted laugh was a clear answer to your question. You let him lead you down the cobblestone pathway, patiently answering his questions whenever he’d point out flowers to you along the walk.  
“Ah! Father’s favourite flower!”
The both of you slowed to a stop where the sea of multi-coloured freesias clustered, like a protective circle, around the Juliet Rose bush. With glowing apricot coloured petals that looked tender to touch, the rose bush stood dignified in the middle. Oh, the amount of care and love that went in to growing these roses, it truly is the treasure of the Royal Glasshouse.
You could still feel the phantom prickles on your fingertips from when you’d accidentally catch on one of the thorns whilst pruning. But you also remembered the warm hands that used to encompass yours and those same hands fought many more thorns to build this piece of Eden just for you.   
“Shall we get some to give to him later on?” you suggested, having swiftly gone round the corner to retrieve the pruning knife from the crate.
“Yes, yes! Oh but won’t our shoes get muddy going in there?”
“Your Father didn’t mind losing many good white trousers to the dirt when he used to tend to the garden.”
“Father did that?” gasped the Young Prince, his eyes locked on as you moved with practiced ease. Still unsure as to whether he should risk a scolding from his tutor later on, he stayed behind the pebble border.
You hummed in reply, tip-toeing to avoid disturbing the freesias to reach the rose bush. “He drove the palace tailors mad with the amount of buttons he’d lose…but it was all worth it in the end.”
Your hands cupped one of the larger roses, observing the intricate layers of petals within the heart of the bloom. Just like the layers of memories that stirred within you in that moment.  
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”Not again Your Highness!”
Shoving the tunic you had been sewing to fix up a rip at the seams to the side, you hurried over with a handkerchief towards the Crown Prince as he came out of the Royal Glasshouse. When he wasn’t attending his classes or royal duties, all free time was spent on the garden. The only rule was that no one but the Crown Prince was allowed inside.
“Blossom, we’ve talked about this. You know I’d prefer it if you used my name.”
“That’s the last thing you should be worrying about now! The Queen won’t be too thrilled to know that you–“
A snow white camellia was tucked behind your ear, distracting you to a pause. Your hand immediately reached up and your fingers were met with the morning dew still upon the petals.
“This is first of the few that have successfully bloomed.”
“You’re distracting me on purpose, Yunho!”
“Well it got you to say my name, did it not?” he laughed, crouching down slightly to allow you to help wipe some of the soil off his cheeks. Even as you continued to fret over his mess of a stained blouse that certainly will cause a ruckus over afternoon tea, Yunho looked at you with so much affection that it would’ve made the rest of the flowers blush.
“You are impossible,” with no real bite to your words.
“And yet you’ve stayed by me all this time.”
You weren’t just the child of the Queen’s personal seamstress, no, you were Yunho’s first real friend within the palace. He treasured the friendship, for being with you meant Jeong Yunho could breathe freely. 
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The hallway had a woeful chill despite the midday sunlight streaming through the arched windows. Perhaps it was reflecting your current state of mind, your feet scurrying with haste to carry you to the safety of your chambers. Only behind closed doors did you allow your walls to crumble.
“It’s settled then, we shall entrust you with the task of creating the wedding gown. After all your sewing skills are immaculate and the Princess herself personally requested for you.”
Your mind kept replaying the announcement, echoes taunting the reality right in your face. Extremely confused at the absence of feeling on top of the world that you’ve been tasked with such a prestigious request nor were you jumping with joy knowing that Aethevintis and Cilon were officiating a strong alliance through a royal engagement.
“Every tailor in the kingdom would’ve killed for this job! Soon you’ll be making a name for yourself!”
The palace staff showered words of encouragement and your mother couldn’t be any prouder…
...yet it did nothing to ease the piercing cold emptiness that invaded your shattered heart.     
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“Blossom that would be considered as assault against the Crown Prince.”
You threw an unamused look his way, right after you had nearly kneed Yunho in the face when he effortlessly hitched you over his shoulders. Without so much as giving you a valid explanation as to why he arrived unannounced at the tailors’ room, only to whisk you away from your half-sewn bodice.
“Some of us need to work, Yunho!”
“You’ve been working a fair bit lately, I simply miss spending time with you.”
Now that you have actually acknowledged your feelings towards him, you couldn’t afford to let such words feed the false hope; not when you knew there will be an inevitable split in your pathways. You had been purposely avoiding him since preparations for the Engagement Ball have started, under the guise that you needed complete focus on your commission. It numbed the hurt inside temporarily, but you couldn’t deny that you’ve missed him.
Terribly so.
“Where exactly are you taking us?”
Scrunching your nose slightly at the smell of hay and heavy worn leather upon entering the stables, you noticed the saddle was already on Yunho’s Friesian stallion. Had he planned this beforehand?
“On an adventure!”
Of course, Yunho may have forgotten to notify you that he was supposed to be at a council meeting at that moment instead of bolting out of the stables like your lives depended on it.
He needed to breathe again and you decided to run with him for once, rather than away. The faint shouts of his name could be heard in the distance but consequences be damned if it meant seeing his radiant smile be set free and feeling the steadiness of your entwined hands.
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“Watch your step.”
For whatever reason you couldn’t fathom, that Yunho somehow managed to sneak away from his own Engagement Ball without getting noticed and now was guiding you through an alternate and poorly-lit route towards the garden. Had it not been for his insistence that this matter was of great importance, you would’ve dragged him back in to the Grand Hall yourself.
Not even daring to think about the implications of his future wife being left, having to wait inside and what should happen if any of the guests or palace staff saw you with the Crown Prince in this questionable state?
“I’ve already talked to Captain Song and requested for his guard unit to ensure this area is kept clear for tonight, so you needn’t worry.”
His warm hand that held onto yours gave a reassuring squeeze, dampening your anxiousness just a little. You ended up facing the entrance to the Royal Glasshouse, the window panes were crystal clear in the dark that you could see the stars that hung above in the night sky in the reflection. Admittedly this place hadn’t graced your mind in months and you immediately felt disappointment towards yourself for not checking in with Yunho over time about his progress.
As you were about to speak, your vision suddenly goes pitch black.
“Hope you don’t mind but it’s a surprise,” Yunho whispered softly and only then did you realise that those were his hands covering your eyes. Wordlessly you nodded and allowed him to lead you in, an array of floral scents hitting your senses almost immediately, indicating that you both have made it well in to the glasshouse.
Something brushed against the top of your head unexpectedly and you flinched back, hitting Yunho’s solid chest.
“It’s ok, it’s just the blue jade vines. I’ve got you.” You wished your heart would stop fluttering as you felt him shuffle around you.
“Had it been anything else, I would’ve been right out the door and never stepping foot in here again,” you murmured.
You heard Yunho’s low chuckling before, “And leave me behind? That’s harsh. Who would I ever share this with then?”
His hands lifted and you blinked a few times to settle the initial haziness. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the view; there were lanterns both hanging from the roof and ones scattered around to illuminate the interior with a soft glow, fireflies danced about unbothered and even with the vast amount of plants it wasn’t a suffocating space.
Taking tentative steps to look at some of the flowers up close, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. Just when you thought Yunho couldn’t get any more incredible than he already is.
“Yunho, this is…you really did it! From which fairytale did you pull this garden out of? All of this is exquisitely stunning!” you said, gently running your hand over the pink and white baby’s breath bushes.
Unbeknownst to you, Yunho’s barely keeping himself together under his calm façade. His heart has been yearning to just go against all odds and take you away with him but that meant condemning you to a lifetime of hardship, in a world where tradition doesn’t take too kindly to change.
He would never do that to you.
If he couldn’t be free to love you openly, then he’d love you in all the ways that required unspoken words. He poured his time and love into creating something, untouched by others and solely from himself, that he could give to you.
Just like he already has with his heart.
So when you heard him call your name, rather than the usual term of endearment he’d use, it set off the butterflies in your stomach. He reached out for you and you met him halfway.
“Did you know these are my favourites? They’re still young but as they grow, you’ll see that they aren’t just ordinary roses. They’re called Juliet Rose.”
Yunho showed you around the garden, telling you of the different flowers and their meanings. Peruvian lilies for lasting bonds, bluebells for devotion, gladiolus for strength, chrysanthemums for happiness, carnations for faithfulness. You were so caught up with keeping track that you nearly missed what Yunho had said next.
“–for an undying love or you’re the only one…”
“What...did you say?”
A barely-there whisper as you choked the words out. The running water from the mini fountain in the lily pad pond was the only sound among the silence that stretched between you both. And then there was the feeling of dread again, that you needed to run. Far away. Now. “W-We should go, th– your future fiancée is wait–“
You barely made it past 4 steps before Yunho caught your wrist and this time, he wasn’t going to let go. He called your name again.
“Please look at me.”
Perhaps it was the desperation in his voice that got through to you, telling you that you’d deeply regret it if you were to leave. So you willed your heart to stay through the pain and to stay for Yunho. It wasn’t until you felt damp velvet against your cheeks that you realised it was from the tears that cascaded down from your eyes and soaked in to Yunho’s suit, for he held your shaking form close to him.
“I’m such a fool.”
“Well, I guess we’re both just fools very much in love then.”    
And then it dawned on you.
This entire garden being Yunho’s vow to you, which made you cry even harder than if he would’ve just confessed out loud to you right from the start. 
Your hands grasped onto his back, fisting the fabric as you buried yourself further in to him. Noting that he smelled of clementines on a cool breezy summer day, you ingrained that scent to your memory. Wishing upon all the stars above that time would stop and allow you both to just live in your little garden.
“And with your permission, could you allow this fool to be selfish for a while more?”
A light kiss to your forehead before your face was tilted up, sore tear-stained eyes meeting his matching ones. “You? Selfish? Impossible.” Keeping your voice soft, partially from not wanting to break the peaceful ambience as you clumsily wiped his tears away.
Yunho knows he already has been selfish especially with time, he can’t stop it but he can draw it out at least. And he’s selfish in wanting to take from you when he knows he cannot give back entirely. But if it’s once in this lifetime that he gets to have you before having to return to the cruel world of normality, then he will get on his knees to beg for your forgiveness for being selfish.
He pours out everything in to the searing kiss he places on your lips and whilst you never imagined your first kiss to be like this, at the very least you finally have closure. Swollen lips, rosy cheeks and warm hands that refused to part until the very last second. Words that you both have been meaning to tell each other over the years are woven into poetries.
The garden kept it all, kept your love safe and your hearts safer.
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“Do they make you happy too?”
Just like that, you’re brought back to the present. “What gave it away little one?” you asked, glancing to smile at him before focusing on cutting off two large roses.
“You were making the same face at the roses as Father does when he’s happy…when he tells me about you and the garden,” replied the Young Prince with honesty. The blue butterflies from before came fluttering around the roses that you held in your hands, much like the ones that stirred inside you once more when you heard the words.
Some things never change, do they?
You started to take the thorns off the stems with the pruning knife before replying, “They do, and this is my happy place.” Once you deemed the stems were safe enough for the Young Prince to hold, you made your way back over to him. You knelt down and presented the roses to him, “What do you think?”
He cautiously took the flowers that dwarfed his small hands, peering in to the layers curiously and taking a whiff of the delicate scent. “They’re really pretty! I think Father will like them very much!”
“Shall we go look for a few more blooms? You can create your very own little bouquet.”
The Young Prince made little noises of excitement and rushed to hold on to your hand once more, continuing on the quest to pick more flowers. It wasn’t until awhile later when you were showing the Young Prince how to arrange the flowers he picked to tie them together, that you heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Father!”
If Yunho hadn’t already learnt how to harden his heart these past years, the scene before him would’ve surely made him cry with happiness. For a second he could pretend that this was real, that you were the one with the aquamarine diamond band around your finger and that he was coming to join his actual family for tea in the garden. His eyes never wavered from yours, even when his son came barrelling in to his legs waving his bouquet merrily in the air.
“Your Majesty,” you greeted with a formal bow, not missing how Yunho’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.  
“Father, I finally got to meet the great fae! We spent all morning finding these!”
Only when you subtly flicked your eyes down towards the child did Yunho respond, quickly reaching down to take the bouquet from his son’s outstretched hand and bringing him in for a hug too.
“I had a feeling I’d find you here, sneaking off from your tutor again,” amusement lacing Yunho’s tone, “and what an intriguing choice of flowers you’ve got there.”
Father and son both adorning mirrored grins on their faces, “they’re for you, do you like them? And I’m sorry for sneaking in here Father!” said the Young Prince, little brows furrowing slightly.
“Very much, thank you…the both of you. And it’s ok as long as skipping your lessons doesn’t become a habit,” said Yunho as he ruffled his son’s hair affectionately and drew his gaze back to you.
“Unfortunately we must take our leave now.”
“How come? Do we really have to go?” The Young Prince seem to have inherit the puppy-dog eyes from his father, putting on the best pout he could muster as he looked between the two of you. Yunho shook his head, bending down to pick his son up. “Remember Grandpa and Grandma are coming by for lunch? Your Mother even asked the cooks to prepare our favourite dessert,” as if attempting to appease him.  
“But…I wanted to spend more time here!”
“You’re always welcome back here little one, if His Majesty is ok with that–”
“Of course, although I hope it won’t be too much trouble?”
You gave a gentle smile and eyes twinkling with mirth, “Considering he hasn’t lost more than two dozen buttons within the last two weeks nor requires daily stitch repairs, I’d say it won’t be too much trouble at all Your Majesty.” That drew out an apology and light laughter from Yunho.  
You walked the King and the Young Prince back to the entrance of the Royal Glasshouse, and just before stepping out Yunho turned to you once more. “Have you stopped by the pond recently?” the random query puzzled you.
“I thought I saw something interesting growing there the other day.”
Please go.
Right after waving a goodbye to Yunho and his son, without a care of making it obvious you hurried to where the lily pads floated at. It wasn’t hard to miss the bundles of serene blues nestled in the damp soil near edge of the pond. As you got closer, the realisation of what those were made your heart soar and ache at the same time.
A couple of tears fell onto the sea of blue petals as you reached out to cradle them with your hands.
“As if I could ever forget…my beloved King,” you whispered to the forget-me-nots that silently delivered Yunho’s words for you—
This garden is forever yours and so is my love, always. Never forget that.  
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jennifersylvesters · 5 years
Text
ring ring ( part one )
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Pairing: flower shop owner!Chris Evans x coffee shop manager!reader Word Count: ~3.2k A/N: an update after four months?? can you believe?? sorry for the wait on this! hopefully it doesn’t disappoint. thanks to fay for helping me edit this. feedback is always appreciated/loved aka it’d be real swell if you did
There was a certain rhythm in your life that you became used to. Certain sounds were easily recognizable as you became used to hearing them daily.
The gentle chimes indicated someone was either entering or exiting the shop. During busier hours, the chimes clanged violently with people bustling in and out.
The frantic beeping from the small timer reminded whoever was on “drip duty” to make a fresh batch of coffee.
These peculiar yet distinct sounds even helped you perfect shorter times when making drinks.
Three seconds of the hissing sound from the steam wand would shrill throughout the store before moving into a low rumble. You’d pour the milk into the cup before placing any necessary garnishes. Into the sink the used container would go, clunking as it fell. With a quick click of the lid snapping into place, you would call out the customer's name on the completed beverage. Warm water would quickly slosh through the barista cup and once clean, it was set aside, signaling you were finished with one order. And then it was onto the next one.
Sometimes these sounds blended together so effortlessly that you were unaware of how quickly time slipped away in the cafe.
When the morning rush dwindled down, you often took your lunch break. Before heading to the break room you always reminded the crew to tidy up, earning you eye rolls. Of course they would do so. They appreciated their dedicated leader too much than to let you down.
Silence lingered in the break room, often driving you crazy and forcing you to turn on the radio. While you ate, you ran through tasks you needed to complete. You’d scribble down everything swarming in your mind from the supply order that week to the notes you wanted to discuss with the owner. Lucky for you the monthly meeting with the big boss usually went fairly smooth seeing as he had complete faith in you.
When you finally finished creating tasks, your thoughts would roam to more pleasant and lighthearted topics. More often than not you wondered about what surprises your favorite day might bring.
Wednesday rolled around and you were mildly disappointed when Tommy swung open the door instead of Chris. Tommy was one of Chris’s workers who often did deliveries despite rarely delivering to you. That, of course, didn’t stop Tommy from frequenting the shop.
At this point you knew Tommy fairly well. He was a sweet kid with high energy, sometimes bouncing off the walls; the iced mochas you provided him never seemed necessary but who were you to deprive him of caffeine?
You greeted Tommy with a wave as you stepped from behind the counter. The bouquet in his arms was stunning, causing you to bite down on your lip; they were marigolds wrapped in brown wrapping paper with gold ribbon tying them altogether. You saw your name on the note written in gold ink and a small heart doodled at the end.
It made you wonder if your secret admirer had that good of handwriting or if he got someone else to write your name with such elaborate calligraphy. Either way, you couldn’t believe someone would gift you something as marvelous as this.
“Sorry to have your hopes dashed like that” Tom apologized, pulling you out of thoughts.
You turned your head up gazing at him questionably.
“Must’ve been expecting Chris, but you got me instead.”
“Oh, Tommy. That’s not true!” you replied, feeling guilt swell up. “I like when you drop by too! I think you’re great company! Really!”
He just smiled knowingly as he handed you the flowers. You took it into your arms cradling it delicately.
Gently tugging the note intertwined with the flowers, your face lit up seeing the words neatly sprawled on the paper.
Y/N,
Sometimes it's difficult choosing the right flowers. I want them to encapsulate your beauty yet I know that would never be possible. How could they ever compare to you? I hope these marigolds can express how much you light up my day.
-Your Secret Admirer
“These are lovely” you gushed. Tommy nodded his head watching your enamored state.
“He wanted to come, y’know.” Tommy mentioned as you reread the note, words always sweeter than the last. “He’s just, erm, tied up at the moment.”
You glanced up to see the young man fidgeting. He seemed slightly nervous, almost as if he said too much. Looking across the street, you saw Chris and his beau.
Scarlett’s hands were on her waist with a scowl upon her face while Chris’s brows pinched together. He tried taking her hand in his, but she yanked away. He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his temples. Despite being unable to hear the conversation, you could tell how she was shouting at him in the empty shop.
“It’s fine,” you managed out before turning away from the scene.
Something about the commotion you witnessed troubled you. Just the sight of Chris looking distressed made you wish there was something - anything - you could do to lift his spirits.
You hesitantly asked Tommy to wait a minute to which he nodded compliantly. As he drummed his fingers on the counter you made two cups of coffee, adding a sprinkle of vanilla and a dash of cinnamon. You slid the cups his way, announcing they were on the house.
“Thanks. He’ll appreciate it.” You ignored his latter comment and the scampish grin he wore walking out the door. He could think whatever he wanted about your feelings for the flower shop owner; it didn’t mean they were true. At least nothing you would ever admit out loud.
Work days had a defined rhythm, something you paced yourself to. Days off played differently with no distinctive beat. They left you with a desire to do something enjoyable outside rather than keeping yourself cooped up. Yet you often struggled to think of leisurely activities, asking friends for advice on what to do.
This week’s day off was no exception. You simply wandered around a recommended outdoor market, picking up a couple of items while conversing with friendly faces. By the time your evening rolled around, you settled on the plan of going to the movies.
Despite an invitation to go out to the bar with friends, tonight you wanted to relax and wind down; it would be a nice moment to simply breathe.
As you entered the multiplex’s lobby, you noticed a couple arguing near the napkin station. To your surprise, you recognized the pair as Scarlett and Chris.This felt like deja vu witnessing her lash out at him as he ran his hand through his hair frustratedly.
“Scarlett, please” he pleaded, taking her hand in his.
“Go watch the movie by yourself” she snapped as she yanked her hand away and stormed out of the theater.
As Chris stood there dejected, it nearly broke your heart. His slumped posture made him look so small and weak despite his tall stature. How someone could treat him so roughly was beyond your understanding.
“Hey, Y/N.” Shoot. You had been so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed his head turn and spot you nearby. You wanted to scurry off in hope he might believe he mistook you for the wrong person. But after seeing that terrible display, you weren’t sure you could muster that.
“Are you watching ‘Roman Holiday’ as well?” It made you wonder if Scarlett got upset because it wasn’t her first choice of film.
Still, you nodded your head at him, telling him how you planned on finding a good seat in the middle.  
“Aw, c’mon. The middle? Where’s the fun in that?” he teased you. “You should sit with me.”
You knew it wasn’t a good plan. After all, you just watched him get into a fight with his girlfriend. But the way he looked at you - almost pleading for you to join his company - made you eventually agree to sit with him.
Despite the previous fight, he acted as if nothing happened between him and Scarlett. He walked in and scanned the auditorium before gesturing you to follow him. “The second to last row is the best option” he confirmed as he plopped down in the center of said row. You weren’t sure you agreed, but you took a seat to his right.  
While waiting for the movie to begin, he apologized for not showing up on Wednesday to which you easily waved off. He informed you how his dog got sick and that he needed to attend to him. It made you wonder if this was an excuse to cover up the argument or if this was what set off the argument that day in the flower shop.
Still, you didn’t pry. You told yourself it wasn’t your business. If he could respect your privacy, you could extend the same courtesy. Instead, you switched subjects, talking about how earlier you spent time at the outdoor market he recommended you visit. He beamed as you told him how much you enjoyed the vendors there before proudly announcing that most of them were good friends of his.
As the lights dimmed, you realized that there were only four other people in the theater. Apparently no one wanted to pay to see a classic when they could watch it at home. But there was something more enjoyable about seeing it in a theatre with the huge screen; it was a  completely different experience than your apartment’s small television.
Apparently Chris must’ve felt the say way as he leaned over and whispered “The movie theater’s really the only way to experience a classic, isn’t it?” You nodded, glad that someone understood your thoughts.
He asked if you wanted candy, holding out a bag of M&Ms for you to enjoy. You politely declined, stating that you bought Skittles. The two of you began to quietly argue about which candy was best only stopping when you became entranced by the film stars on the screen.
As the movie played, Chris repeatedly offered his popcorn to you. “It’s not like I can finish a whole tub by myself,” he insisted. You found yourself scooping up handfuls of popcorn as the movie progressed, leaning closer to him as he whispered fun facts about the movie.
By the time the credits rolled, you couldn’t believe how quickly the two hours flew by. You could’ve stayed longer if that meant you got to hang with Chris. He let out a low grunt as he stretched his arms up, inadvertently pulling his shirt up and exposing some skin. You turned away feeling shy by this view. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to have your nerves on end. 
“That’s probably one of my favorite movies” he admitted as he stood up. As you both walked back to the lobby, you thanked him for his company. “Honestly, I should be the one thanking you” he replied flashing you a bright smile.
Why was it that he could get you so flustered with just a simple glance? You told yourself that he was off limits, yet your heart couldn’t help but beat faster for him.
He offered to walk you home and despite your initial protests, you were weak to his insistence. You were grateful for the good weather as the two of you walked side by side. Despite having longer legs, he took his time so that you never needed to catch up with his pace.
Normally silence bothered you, begging for something to fill the emptiness. Yet this moment being with Chris - arms gently swinging next to one another and just enjoy one another’s presence - was pleasant in a way that you couldn’t particularly define.
“Am I difficult?” he asked out of the blue. You paused, unsure of what to say. Where had that thought come from?
“No. I don’t think so. You’re really amazing” you assured him.
“Sometimes I feel-” he sighed, pausing as he attempted to construct his thoughts properly. “-It feels like I can’t do things right sometimes. Do y’know what I mean?”
Was this about Scarlett? His shop? Either way, this felt personal. You wondered if it was your place to even say anything. One look at his face and your heart ached at his visible frustration.
“I get it. But you’re not difficult, Chris. Maybe you’re going through something hard that I can’t understand, but I mean it. You’re not a difficult person. You’ve always been very nice to me, and I’m just...I guess I’m thankful for that.” You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks hearing those words slip out. It wasn’t a confession yet it felt oddly revealing.
Looking up at Chris, he seemed to be in higher spirits. With a lopsided grin on his face, he pulled you in for a hug, catching you by surprise. “Thanks” he murmured, holding you in his arms for longer than you expected. When he finally pulled away, all you could do was nod.  
The rest of the walk was filled with Chris discussing his favorite movies with you. You couldn’t help but giggle as he proclaimed how much he loved Disney movies, admitting that he always cried at Mufasa dying. “I weep like a big ol’ baby! Just tears everywhere” he laughed, moving his hands around animatedly.
When you finally reached your apartment, he insisted you two should hang out again. It was a nice thought, something you wished could happen. Yet you knew it wouldn’t.
There was the factor of Scarlett being a part of his life. You highly doubted she would approve of him hanging out with you. In fact you could imagine the sharp glares she’d send your way, making your mornings even more difficult.
Not to mention the tiny detail that the more time you spent around Chris, the more you liked him. He wasn’t your secret admirer, yet his words constantly rung in your head. The minuscule facts that he told you stayed on your mind making you wish you could know him better. But he wasn’t yours to love or even dream about in a romantic way.
“Yeah, maybe” you shrugged, knowing that nothing would escalate. You wouldn’t let it.
“See you around, Y/N” he waved as you entered your complex. Despite repeating that you wouldn’t fall for Chris, you found yourself already looking forward to Wednesday.
Monday rolled around and you found yourself falling back into your normal routine once more. The repeated sounds comforted you as your workday flew by. As one of your workers went on their lunch, you found yourself reorganizing espresso bags until the chimes rang.
Peeking your head out of the stock room, you were surprised to see Anthony coming into the shop by himself. Normally he got coffee with Sebastian, but his upbeat presence was always welcomed.
“Hey, Anthony” you smiled, already grabbing a medium cup to get his usual dark roast. He grinned widely pulling out his wallet.
“You’re not even going to ask what I want?”
“Don’t tell me you plan on switching up on me now” you joked as you poured the coffee three fourths of the way. You ducked down to the fridge grabbing the whole milk and filling the rest of his order.
“Course not. But this sorta feels like you're trying to kick me out. You would kick this pretty face out just like that? ‘Cause that’s cold. I think I'm pretty good company to be done dirty like that.” You rolled your eyes at his joking nature.
“If you say so.” Ringing up his order, you slid the coffee his way as he handed you a couple bills insisting you keep the change. Tossing the change into your tip jar, you started back towards the stock room when you realized he still stood in front.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” he asked nervously.
You nodded, curious what had him so serious and perplexed. “Go for it.”
“What are your thoughts on Sebastian?”
You paused trying to think of what to say. It wouldn’t be professional to talk about any of your customers in such an impolite manner, but how could one even explain the feelings you had towards Sebastian?
“I don’t mean to be intrusive” he apologized. “It’s just...Seb isn’t particularly mindful about how he’s perceived.”
“He’s” - you paused, selecting your words carefully - “very thoughtful in his own specific manner.”
This notion seemed to relieve Anthony, who took a deep breath before scratching his eyebrow. “Yes, that’s one way to view him.”
The door chimed and both of you turned spotting Sebastian at the front. Speak of the Devil. He paused, letting the door swing shut behind him. The bartender seemed confused by his friend’s presence, quirking his eyebrow up as he stared at Anthony. His friend just returned the glance with a tight lipped smile.
Despite this strange energy, you warmly welcomed Sebastian into the shop.
He approached the pair of you slowly, hands shoved in his pockets as his eyes flicked from you to his friend. There seemed to be a mental communication between the men as Anthony quickly dismissed himself, thanking you before giving a brief nod towards Sebastian.
“He wasn’t…” Seb started, watching his friend rush out the door. “He didn’t say anything inappropriate, did he?”
You shook your head as Seb seemed to be relieved at your response.
Grabbing a cup, you began working on a latte as Sebastian watched you with a puzzled expression. “Decaf latte with skim milk and two shots, one pack of raw sugar, and a sprinkle of cinnamon, right?” He blinked, taken back by your recital of his usual order. Normally you simply made his drink while he finished the rest of the minor details at the milk and sugar bar. Then again he never spoke much besides his order and a gruff thanks; so perhaps he had good reason to be surprised.
Watching your brisk movements, he blinked a couple times before he nodding his head. “You can always ask us to put the sugar and cinnamon in for you, y’know? We don’t mind.” Seb said nothing, only listening to the sound of the espresso machine whirring as you hummed to the song that bustled throughout the shop.
Placing the coffee in front of him, you held up a hand indicating for him to stop rummaging for his wallet. “Wait one sec. Just...Try it first.” There it was again; the hesitant glance he gave you made you laugh. The more he resisted, the more you wanted this man to trust and understand you. “I wanna know that I did it right,” you reassured him.
His brow creased almost unnerved at how lighthearted you were in this matter. Sebastian took a sip before nodding his head. “Good” he grunted, which caused you to beam. It wasn’t much, but you could deal with baby steps.
“Glad to know that I can do something right” you smiled as you watched him stare down at his drink.
He slid a ten dollar bill your way. As you opened up the register to make change, he was already close to breezing out the door. He paused before leaving, turning and looking at you. “You’re a lot more amazing than you give yourself credit for” he stated, leaving the words to linger in your mind while a pink tinge lingered on your face.
tags list: @sleepybesson, @tomhaz, @supernatural-girl97, @sophiatomlinson23 | @allynalemons | @achishisha, @bibliophilicwit, @brastrangled, @calwitch, @iwonder-womani, @marvelellie, @mustbeaweasleyginger, @nicholasbich, @sillydecoy, @thinkin-bout-queue, @theonelittleone
bolded means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you
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deanswinchcster · 6 years
Text
She had a sister.
// While investigating an unusual murder the boys find out Charlie has a younger sister which just so happens to be the reader.
This will be a series so be prepared for more parts.
Paring: Eventual Jack x Reader.
Warnings: Mild swearing, some blood. Nothing unusual for supernatural.
Credit: to the creators of the gifs I've used. You guys are amazing.
(I know I’ve been gone a while, somethings have happened in my life but everything has been sorted and I’m back to write more stories for you guys. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing)
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College was rough. At only 19, you were on your last year. Apparently the Middleton family had brains. From what you knew, your sister had a high IQ as well. You would have finished university a few years ago had you not taken some time off to 'find yourself.' Whatever that means.
Being dumped in the foster system as a baby meant that you sometimes struggles making any connections with people. You had always closed yourself off and stayed quiet as some form of protection. Everyone you loved either died or left. You had never been in a home with a real family for longer than a month. They told you that your intelligence frightened them but you had started to doubt that a long time ago.
When you finished high school at 12, you were set to go to college and for a month, you did. You tried to block out your emotions but loneliness always crept in so you stopped your education for a while. At 14, you tried again but there was no point. You didn't feel connected to anything you were doing.
At 18 once you had left the foster system, you had managed to afford an apartment with the money your family had left you but you weren't rich by any means so you had a room mate.
Nina Kelly was a sweet, kind girl and she had managed to form a friendship with you when you thought you were incapable for being liked. She was the one that convinced you to go back to college and this time it stuck. She was the same age as you and you had been studying law together, but you had managed to surpass her by a few years. Unlike most, she wasn't jealous. Only ever supportive.
So imagine your shock at finding her cold, dead body on the floor of your apartment after coming back from classes last night. You were devastated.
Maybe it was you. Perhaps you were cursed.
It sure felt that way.
Since your apartment was an active crime scene and you had already been questioned by officers, you were staying in a run down hotel room. And the last thing you had been expecting was a knock on your door so early in the morning. Not that it woke you up. You hadn't even bothered to change out of your bloodstained sundress dress, let alone think about sleeping.
With a heavy sigh, you heaved your body from the floor by the side of your bed and walked over to the door, pulling the handle down and opened it slightly to reveal two men you had never seen before. One extremely tall and the other a good amount shorter but still taller than you.
When the figured you weren't planning on speaking, they looked at you through the small crack and the shorter one began to talk. “Y/N Middleton?”
“Depends on whose asking.” Your phone had been blowing up all day with news outlets wanting a story on the mystery murder of your best friend. The last thing you wanted was to be questioned by someone wanting to make a entertainment out of your misery.
“FBI. I'm detective Mercury and this is my partner detective May.”
They both pulled two badges out of their pockets and flashed them in your direction. Maybe not the best idea. You were smart, from a mile away you could see how ridiculously wrong they had gotten certain aspects of the badge. Granted most people could probably be fooled by it but not you.
“Okay, first of all, Mercury and May? As in Freddie Mercury and Brian May from Queen?” Their jaws dropped and you couldn't help but question why. Did they think you wouldn't be able to crack their code? Or hadn't they expected someone so young to know classic rock bands? Either way you weren't in the mood for their bullshit. You were already having a rough day. “And secondly, those are so fake. Go away.”
Just as you were about to slam the door in their faces, a foot came between the crack and forced it open. Both men's eyes widening when they caught sight of your tired eyes and the dry blood on your skin and dress. You were a mess and you knew it but you didn't count on company so soon.
“Okay Carrie...” How original. “we're just here to help, that's all.”
“Oh please, if you wanted to help you would leave me alone.” Gathering they weren't leaving, you took a step back as they walked in and you sat on the edge of your bed.
“Excuse my brother, he seems to have forgotten his manners but I'm Sam and this is Dean...” Why did those names seem so familiar to you? “we're just trying to help, we know all about Nina but we want to hear from you what happened. We're not trying to cause any trouble for you or anyone in this town, we're trying to prevent it.”
Though your mind was telling you to stay away from these people, you felt as though you could trust them. The sincerity in the taller one's eyes filled you with the comfort that you had been missing for as long as you could remember so reluctantly you looked in their direction and nodded your head along.
“Okay... what do you want to know?”
After a few questions about what was happening that night, any strange behaviour, any one who would want to harm Nina and the rest of the random bullshit you had already answered to the real cops, a question came up that immediately grabbed your attention. “Did you smell sulphur at all?”
“How did you know that?” For the first time that morning, genuine curiosity flickered across your face. “I tried to tell the cops but they said it was nothing.” By the looks on their faces, it most definitely was not nothing. They looked at each other and sighed, turning towards the door.
“Hey! I was talking to you, I have a right to know what's going on.”
Just when you thought they were going to leave, the two brothers stopped abruptly and turned in your direction. The taller one, who seemed to be the sweeter out of the two, looked at you with sad eyes. Great. You had been given that luck your entire life and just when you had gotten rid of it, someone else in your life had to die to return it to everyone's face. This isn't what you wanted. “Look, it's complicated. We'll be back to talk to you soon. Why don't you take a shower and change your clothes?”
That would have been a great idea, but you get what you pay for unfortunately.
“I would, but this place doesn't have a shower... just the basics. This disgusting bed, with sheets that look like they haven't been changed since 1942 and a toilet and sink in the bathroom.” It wasn't like you would be staying long anyway. Once your apartment was no longer an active crime scene, you would move back in.
In the mean time you would shower at the gym or something. You would figure it out.
“Jeez kid. Don't you have any family to stay with?” It shocked you when the one Sam referred to as Dean looked at you with concern.
You shrugged your shoulders and began to talk. Telling the same story you had recited a hundred times over. “No. My parents died in a car crash when I was a baby and I haven't seen my sister in years. God knows where she is know.”
The boys looked at one another and you observed them, almost instantly noticing when their eyes grew larger. It felt like they knew something you didn't. They were keeping something from you and you were determined to find out what. However before you could so much as utter a word, the kind one started to speak again.
“You can stay with us until you can get back to your own apartment.” Sensing your apprehension, he continued his talk, trying to sell you on his idea. “Come on, we have spare bedrooms and a shower that you can use. It's better then this dump and we're only trying to help.”
On paper this was by bar, the worst idea in the entire world. Leaving with two strangers after your best friend had been murdered. For all you knew, they could be the two responsible for her death. They were certainly mysterious enough for that. After weighing in your options, you nodded your head and agreed. It wasn't like you had anything to lose. If they were to kill you, maybe that would be more of a blessing then a curse.
“Great.” He smiled, although it was somewhat reluctant. “You change out of that..” He signalled to your blood stained outfit and you couldn't blame him for wanting you out of it. You probably looked like a deranged killer yourself. “and we'll wait for you outside.”
Just like he promised, the boys left the room as you pulled some clean clothes from the duffel bag you were able to fill before you left your apartment.
“Seriously dude.” Dean hit his younger brother's shoulder and looked over at him with narrow eyes.
“I know you're thinking what I'm thinking to Dean.”
The Winchester's looked at one another, having a silent conversation with their eyes. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. Surly they would have already known who you were if it were. Shaking his head, Dean sighed and ran his hand over his tired face. He didn't want to believe it.
“Y/N  Middleton? Her parents were killed in a car crash when she was a baby and she hadn't seen her sister in years. The red hair... come on Dean” It all added up. Seeing his brothers apprehension, Sam asked a question he knew Dean would answer. “What was Charlie's real name again?”
“Celeste Middleton.” He gruffly replied, narrowing his eyes at his brother. “Damn it, fine! I just hope she hurries up. You stay here and I'll phone Jack and Cas... warn them about this whole situation  and see if Castiel can figure out who this demon is.”
The drive to the brothers home was longer than you would have likee, but Dean's constant need to play his classic rock made the situation bearable. You hadn't wanted to talk to either of them though so if they ever turned back to check on you or attempted to ask you questions, you pretended to be asleep to avoid it. Though it was the furthest thing from your mind, your body was tired and you weren't sure how long you could stay awake now.
It had been at least two and a half hours until Dean pulled up to the side walk. Looking out the window towards the creepy looking building caued your eyebrows to furrow in confusion at the strange sight. It looked as though no one had lived here for years.
Perhaps you were going to get murdered after all.
“This is where you live?” You questioned, stepping out of the car as the same time as the brothers. The spoke up in confirmation and you went back to being quiet, reflecting over the last twelve hours of your life.
You were still so confused, so heart broken and angry but you never let anyone see how you truly felt. There was no point. Emotions were personal and you didn't trust yourself to be vulnerable around anyone else. Being close to someone just opened opportunities to break you once more and you weren't sure how much more you could be broken down until you gave up. Instead, you kept a smile on your face, a cold exterior and hoped that everyone would leave you alone.
Dragging your body from leaning against the car, you reluctantly followed the men to the door and though you were shocked by the size of their home, you hadn't allowed it to show on your face while trailing a few feet behind them.
While you remained quiet, you heard voices down the halls and then Sam and Dean joined in the conversation as you entered what looked like a kitchen. Instead of getting involved and speaking to the two strange men you had yet to be introduced you, you leant against the wall and watched from a distance.
The youngest out of the bunch seemed to stare at you and you couldn't help but feel paranoid as to why but like always, you didn't let it get the best of you and kept silent. He was probably weirded out by the blood covering your skin which had you thinking, you really wanted to wash it off.
You were so caught up in your own thoughts, you hadn't realised the person that was staring at you before had stepped closer in your direction. “Hi, I'm Jack and that's Castiel.”
It wasn't hard to see that he was harmless, a small smile played on his features and even if you knew deep down he was just trying to be nice, you wouldn't allow him to get close. You couldn't handle it again.
So you did what you had to do and ignored the boy, trying hard to ignore the way your stomach flipped at you doing such a thing. “Sam, can I have a shower now?”
Since he was the one you trusted the most, you knew it was better to ask him. He had a kind aura and caring eyes. He made you feel safe and although Dean didn't really scare you, you felt as though you were more a bother to him then you wanted to be so Sam was the way to go.
Ignoring Jack's wondering eyes, you followed the younger Winchester down the hallway until you came across the bathroom.
“Towels are in cupboard below the sink, you can use my shampoo and stuff.” Giving him a grateful smile your gaze wondered with his movement as he walked towards the door. “Oh and before I forget, your room is directly opposite, you won't have to go far.”
“Thank you.” He silently left and you locked the door behind him, letting your bag fall from your shoulder to the floor. Your entire body still in a state of shock, you had yet to cry but maybe you never would. Maybe you had cut yourself off from your emotions so much that your body just couldn't produce tears any more.
You wished that was the case but you could feel them fighting their way to the surface. You were stronger though and wouldn't let them win.
After stripping of your items of clothing, you had the longest shower in history, scrubbing away at your skin until it turned red to ensure that you had every inch of blood removed from you. Even then you still didn't feel clean. You could still feel the blood tainting you. Just like Sam had suggested, you helped yourself to his shampoo, and though it wasn't the usual floral scent that you were use to, it still smelt incredible. The shower gel wasn't sweet smelling either but it was comforting to say the least. You weren't about to complain.
Once you had finished, you stepped out, dried yourself off and wrapped a fluffy towel around your naked form before grabbing your bag, opening up the bathroom door and heading straight towards the room Sam had told you would be yours for the next few days.
Being sad was one thing, showing it was another. You wouldn't allow yourself to be vulnerable. So to deceive the boys you dressed like always. Some skinny fit black jeans, matched with a crop top swearer and a leather jacket carelessly thrown over the top. You didn't take long on your make up but you still made yourself look presentable and quickly curled your signature red locks with the curling wand you had managed to take from your apartment while packing your clothes and make up. One look the mirror and you decided that you looked fine, hopefully now no one would ask you how you were. If you looked fine, they would think you were fine.
The hardest thing to do was pull yourself together when you felt like falling apart but you didn't need sympathetic smiles and sad eyes looking in your direction every ten seconds. Over the years you had become an expert and even though you had allowed yourself to function normally for the past year, you hadn't forgotten how to do it.
Brushing the curls behind your ear, you walked from your room down the hallway and followed the sound of familiar voice to what looked like a library. “Hey.”
The men turned in your direction and you could see their shock at how well you had managed to pull yourself together. Hell, if they had walked past you in the street they never would have known you had faced a tragedy not even a day ago.
“Are you alright?” The one you knew to be Castiel asked causing you to inwardly roll your eyes.
You probably seemed like the biggest bitch in the entire world but it's what you need to do to keep people away. These weren't just people though, they wanted to help you. Well, Sam and Dean did and you supposed that this trench coat wearing man only wanted to do the same. Guilt would eat you alive if you just ignored him, he seemed genuinely curious as to how you were. So after giving him a reassuring smile you spoke up. “Yeah, I'm fine, thank you.”
Dean and Castiel went back to reading a giant book on the table, Sam looking at his laptop while Jack sat in the corner of the room looking up at you. They all had things they seemed to be doing and you knew that involved finding the person that killed Nina. How they were going to do that you had no idea, they were regular humans with no power over peoples actions, and even if you knew your intelligence could be used to their advantage, your mind was completely jumbled at the moment so you decided to leave them to it.
“Do you have a TV I could watch?” A distraction more like it.
Sam looked up from the screen and nodded his head, pointing in the direction of another room. This place was huge. If you were alone, you were sure you'd get lost in it.
After shuffling into the room, you flung yourself down on the couch and instead of watching the TV like you had planned, you looked around. Only you weren't alone for long. Pretty soon the youngest of the men had entered the room and taken a seat beside you.
There was something about Jack. You couldn't exactly put your finger on it but just by looking at the goofy smile on his face you could tell how innocent he seemed, how pure he looked. Maybe he didn't get out much. You envied that.
Once he realised neither of you had spoken, he looked into your eyes and spoke with such sincerity you could have broke. “I'm really sorry about your friend.”
Instead of allowing your emotions to get the best of you, you decided to pretend not to care. Leaning your elbow on your knees, you leant your head against the palm of your hand and looked over at him. Though you tried your hardest, your eyes showed your pain but you hoped he wouldn't notice. “Why? It's not your fault.”
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“I know.” Good. Maybe now he would leave you alone. Only he didn't, he continued to speak to you, like you had known him for years. “You seem sad, almost like there was a spark surrounding you before but it's fizzled out. You're not happy I don't like when people aren't happy so I'm sorry.”
Your eyes softened. “Thanks.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” He offered but that was the last thing you wanted to do.
“No.”
“That's okay.” God, why did he have to be so understanding? “You wanted to watch the TV, right?” You nodded your head. Quite frankly a distraction would be much appreciated. Even if it didn't become a distraction, background noise was better than silence. “I usually watch Scooby Doo but you can put on whatever you want.”
A soft laugh came from you. Jack looked close to your age and you were shocked he watched it so regularly. Not that you could blame him, it was an awesome show. You watched it as a child constantly. “Scooby Doo? I haven't watched that in so long.”
“It's my favourite.” He exclaimed, his eyes bright and happy as he spoke. “Should I put it on?”
For some reason, you couldn't say no. He seemed so excited about the cartoon, there was a light in his eyes that you wished you had and never wanted him to lose so you found yourself nodding in his direction and gave a sad smile as his grin widened. “You have a nice smile.” You complimented, finding it almost cute as a soft blush came over his cheeks.
Once the show was clicked on, Jack became engrossed in the storyline and laughed occasionally at something stupid Shaggy or Scooby were doing. You however had completely tuned out. Your wondering eyes caught sight of a few photo frames sitting across the room with the faces of the boys you had recently met. Some smiling, others not but all showed love.
This was family, this was friendship. Something you no longer had, something you craved but something you knew could destroy you in a minute. Without realising you had allowed it to happen, tears began to back their away down your cheeks.
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You didn't know when it happened or why but pretty quickly Jack had wrapped you up in his arms, your head resting against your chest as silent sobs came from your body. His hand soothingly rubbed up and down your back in attempt to calm you down. He was so sweet and somehow it just felt right. You didn't wanted to be anywhere else. “Don't be sad, you have us now.” He was trying to calm you but it was doing the opposite.
You couldn't get close to another person. You couldn't! You wouldn't! Even if you desperately craved to have someone you wouldn't have to worry about losing you knew it wasn't possible. You were better off staying away from people. And sadly that included Jack.
“No, don't... I'm sorry.” You pulled back from his comforting embrace and looked up at his concerned eyes. They looked so worried but you could also see the sadness that you had caused by pulling away. You were an awful person. “I'm going to bed.”
Quickly standing on your feet, you hurried across the room only to come to a complete stop when your eyes caught sight of a picture frame of Dean and a familiar red head. Without hesitation, you picked it up and stared for a few seconds. “Celeste?”
2K notes · View notes
gimmesumsuga · 6 years
Text
Sweeter than Sweet (7)
Pairing: Jimin x reader + others as the story progresses
Warnings: None to note.  
Word count: 3.7K
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Not one of them speaks up right away, and you see Jungkook look nervously to Taehyung where they’re sat opposite you, avoiding Namjoon’s eye contact.  Finally, Jin speaks up.  
“Namjoon... maybe it’d be better to wait until Jimin-“
“Of course, it would be Jimin,” Namjoon interjects to cut Jin short, looking down on you with that same deadly smile.  He’s starting to make it difficult to you to breathe - his grip on your neck anything but gentle - but you try your best not to show any weakness.  However afraid you are, somehow you get the impression that making yourself appear any more vulnerable than you already are would be a big mistake, so you do your best to maintain his eye contact, staring back upward with feigned defiance.  “You’re just his type.”
“He didn’t plan to-“
“I didn’t ask for any of your excuses, hyung.”  Hobi visibly deflates, his mouth closing promptly at Namjoon’s words.  The tall vampire leans down to bring himself face-to-face with you - so close that his nose almost touches yours.  Namjoon’s fingers squeeze tighter, restricting your breath and making your pulse start to race underneath his fingertips. “What am I going to do with you, little one?” he whispers menacingly, cocking his head to the side.
“Cooking again Jin-hyung?” Jimin’s familiar voice, light and playful in tone, comes ringing through the door as he pushes it open with his hip, several shopping bags in each hand. Every head within the room turns to look at him on hearing his voice, and when Jimin takes in the scene that lays before him he comes to a complete standstill, eyes widening and then narrowing just as quickly when he sees the way Namjoon’s hand is curled around your neck.   “Let go of her,” he snarls, carelessly dropping the bags at his side and stepping forward.
“You didn’t bring enough to share, Jimin?” Namjoon mocks, entirely unphased by the murderous look on Jimin’s face.  In a fit of rage the shorter vampire bares his teeth, a threatening growl ripping from his throat, and at that Jin suddenly stands, quickly walking to Jimin’s side and placing a firm hand on the other man’s shoulder.  He whispers something to his friend and whatever it is that he says it certainly goes a long way to help, because as Jin release him Jimin seems to make a considered effort to calm down, pursing his lips and dropping his aggressive posture with a roll of his shoulders.
“I was going to talk with you when you got back,” Jimin grits out, his eyes darting to yours, concern pulling his eyebrows downward for just a split second before he looks back at Namjoon. “I didn’t think it’d be till morning.”
“Ah, so you decided to sneak in a little treat in the meantime?”  Namjoon squats behind your chair, his hand tight around your neck, and you gasp as his his chin makes contact with your shoulder, resting atop of it.  “I thought our little Jimin was too good for blood whores?” he chuckles darkly, you skin prickling at the close proximity of Namjoon’s mouth to your neck.  You see an anger that’s barely controlled flash behind Jimin’s eyes before you lose sight of him, forced to close your own in an effort not to panic as Namjoon presses his nose right against your throat, inhaling.  “She does smell delicious.”
“Hyung.”  You’re surprised by the note of panic you can hear in Jimin’s voice and how helpless he looks as he stands but a few feet away, watching you get manhandled. “Please, let her go.”  Nothing happens for a good five seconds or so until Namjoon lets out an exaggerated sigh against your skin, shifting besides you, and the feel of his breath makes you quiver from head to toe. Finally, he stands, releasing his vice-like hold.  
You rush out of your chair towards to Jimin the moment you’re freed, thudding into his chest with the force of your effort as your heaves with the deep breaths you’d been deprived of.  Surprisingly, Jimin wraps both of his arms around you whilst you clutch onto his shirt in fear, fighting back the urge to cry.
“Do something with her,” Namjoon states gruffly, no longer bother to look at you. “Then come back here so we can have that ‘talk’.”
“Come on.”  Jimin gently pushes you away by your upper arms before taking a hold of your wrist to guide you from the room, shopping bags left behind.  His walk down the corridor is brisk, consistently a step ahead, and you can tell just from the tenseness of his shoulders that his temper is frayed and on the verge of breaking.  “Why didn’t you do as I asked?!” he snaps, staring straight ahead rather than looking to you, trailing behind, and that’s all it takes for hot, salty tears to start rolling down your cheeks; all the emotion you were trying to hold back in front of Namjoon suddenly breaking free.  
You wipe your eyes with your free hand, following dutifully as you try not to let your voice waver as you reply.
“Hobi and Jin came to find me.”  You hear Jimin huff in frustration and another fresh wave of tears start to fall.  “He said he’d me something and I was hungry and-and they said it’d be-“
“You should’ve told me you were hungry before I left!” he chastises, voice raised, footsteps thudding along the floor.  You’re almost at his room now and Jimin hasn’t looked back at you once, seemingly more aggravated with every step he takes.
“Jimin, I’m sorry,” you cry pathetically, voice finally breaking as a sob sticks in your throat.  Jimin pauses when you get to his door, pushing it open and then looking to the floor, his shoulders sagging.  “I didn’t mean…”
He turns to look at you over his shoulder, and when he does the frustration in his expression suddenly seems to melt away, his eyes and mouth softening at the sight of your tears.  Jimin pulls you gently into the room and then pushes the door shut behind you, stepping close before taking your face in both his hands.  Using his thumbs, Jimin carefully wipes away your tears with his head tilted slightly to the side, and when you have to sniff to stop your nose from running - flushing with embarrassment - he smiles a smile so small that it’s barely even there.   
“Did he hurt you?” he asks once you’ve managed to regain some sort of composure, the last of your tears wiped away.  You shrug, forcing a smile.  
“Only as much as you saw.”  Jimin presses his fingers to either side your jaw and tilts your head slowly from side to side, inspecting where Namjoon’s fingers had lain with a frown, and once he’s finally satisfied that there’s no obvious damage – aside from what he’d left there before – he steps back and takes his hands from you entirely.  You wish he wouldn’t; his touch was such a comfort that you miss it instantly.
“My bathroom’s through there,” he says after a moment, nodding his head towards a door on the other side of the room that you’d neglected to notice before.  “You should find everything you need.  Go take a bath while I sort all this out.”  It’s a command not a suggestion, you realise, but nonetheless you nod.  You feel like you’ve caused Jimin enough trouble today to start arguing just for the sake of it.  Besides, a bath sounds rather nice right now, actually.  
“I’ll be back soon.”  He makes to leave and then pauses, a smile pulling at his lips as he turns back to you. “Please, try to stay put this time.”
“I will,” you smile, cheeks turning pink. “Thank you.”  He leaves with a nod, closing the door softly behind him.
A big, shaky exhale escapes you as soon as Jimin’s gone, the heels of your palms travelling upward to press against your eyes, trying to hold back the urge to cry.  You’re so overwhelmingly tempted to just curl yourself up in Jimin’s sheets and fall asleep in them, but you know he probably wouldn’t be pleased if he got back and you were still a weepy mess, so you steel yourself and head to the bathroom, hoping that a long soak in the tub might help you feel better.
Jimin’s bathroom, unsurprisingly enough, is once again almost completely monochrome in design.  That’s not to say it’s boring or disappointing though;  not by a long stretch.  The mirror above the sink falls nothing short of grandiose, stretching almost the span of the entire wall, and both the shower and bathtub are more than big enough for two people to fit inside.  The bathtub really is stunning, actually, situated as a feature point in the centre of the room, roll-topped and claw-footed.  You waste no time in running the water and climbing in, revelling in it being deep enough for you to sink down into warmth right up to your chin.  It doesn’t take you long to wash your hair and your body with the different sweet-smelling potions and lotions you find, lying back once you’re done, content to rest your head and close your eyes.
“Sleeping again so soon?”
You startle, sitting up in the bath so fast that some of the water spills over the side and onto the floor.  Jimin is sat across from you on the closed lid of the toilet with one of his legs crossed over the other, sporting a fresh black eye and a split to his bottom lip.  
“What happened to you?” you gasp, leaning forward and then suddenly remembering how very naked you are when the air hits your wet skin.  You sink back into the water sharply, grateful that it’s so deep that it’s unlikely Jimin saw anything more than just the tops of your breasts as you’d moved around.  You’re still left you flustered, though, blushing scarlet red.
“Namjoon made sure I had no doubt about his displeasure,” Jimin answers sourly, fingering his bruised cheekbone.  Does this happen often?  Jimin certainly doesn’t seem very shaken...
“I’m so sorry,” you say emphatically.  Jimin just shakes his head with a half-hearted smile, hand dropping into his lap.  
“Don’t be.  You meeting the others turned out to be a good thing.”  He gets up from the toilet and strolls to the other side of the room as he speaks, fetching you a towel a towel rack. “When it came to a vote it was six versus one for letting you stay.”  Jimin walks back toward you, towel now in hand, and though you know the water should provide adequate cover you still fold your arms across your breasts and cross your legs as he approaches, just in case.
“That’s good to know.”  You pause, pleased that this strange little family seems to be so eager to accept you - with one exception, of course. “Namjoon doesn’t seem like the rest of you,” you muse and Jimin glances away, pursing his lips to hold back something, you presume, finally replying once he realises you’re not letting it drop.  
“He’s our leader.  He has to be strict to keep us safe.”    
“But where did you all meet? Why’s he the leader?”  Jimin cocks his head the side, an amused smile lighting up the face that looks down on you in the tub.  
“So many questions,” he teases, tutting, “That’s a long story, one for another day.”  You let out a little huff of frustration and that makes Jimin laugh as he hands you the towel, eyes creasing.  “Hurry up, I’ve got things to show you.” You take it one-handedly, covering yourself with the other, skin prickling with excitement as you wonder what Jimin could have in store.
He leaves you to exit the bath, and you breathe a sigh of relief once you’re on your own.  For a while there you’d been thinking he was going to hang around the whole time, and that’s one more embarrassment you think you can certainly do without.  You dry your hair quickly and then wrap the towel around yourself, smiling when you feel its unexpected warmth.  That smile doesn’t last long, though, not when you realise you’re stuck without any clean clothes to put on.
Shyly, you peek out of the bathroom to see Jimin reclining casually on his bed, one ankle crossed over the other, a remote in his hand as the television channels flick back and forth between stations.
“Hi,” you announce softly, pulling the towel tighter around yourself.  If you didn’t feel self-conscious before you definitely do once Jimin’s eyes find you, TV turning blank and silent and he sits himself up.  
“I got everything I could think of,” he tells you, gesturing to the shopping bags now sat next to the bed.  “You just need to choose.”  You walk nervously forward and collect the bags in one hand, aware of Jimin staring at you the whole way.  Each one is heavy and full to the brim; did he really pick all this out just for you?
“I’ve never been very good at picking out clothes.”  You smile unsurely, peering into one.  
“Trust me, I know what’ll look good on you.”  You feel your cheeks start to redden and you chew on your lip as Jimin’s eyes drift appreciatively over your exposed shoulders.  What if he’s wrong though?  What if none of it fits, or what if he thinks you look awful?  “I’ll be waiting.”  Stuffing your insecurities down you nod, retreating back into the bathroom with your bags to set about trying to find something to wear.
He wasn’t kidding about wanting to see you in dresses; there’s not a single pair of jeans or sweats in sight.  What there is, though, is dress after dress of varying lengths and styles, cute little skirts and soft sweaters, floaty blouses and shirts.  Jimin really does have exceptional taste – you can’t find a single thing in any of the bags which you don’t like.  
You dread to think how much this must all have cost; even the underwear from an expensive designer brand that you’ve never dreamt of owning, and god, how you blush as you sort through all the different underwear sets he’s bought.  Lace, lace and more lace - silky long-line bralettes and french knickers that leave nothing to the imagination. You’ve never worn anything like this in your life, but then you’ve never really had anyone to wear this sort of thing for before, have you?
Eventually you pick out something that seems at least relatively modest; a black satin matching pant and bra set, hidden away by a black velvet dress on top.  Jimin does seem to like black, after all, so you figure it’s a safe bet with its long sleeves and high neckline that help to conceal some of the bruising to your shoulders.  You don’t seem to have any shoes, however, but you presume this must’ve just been an oversight on his part.  
You manage to find a hairbrush somewhere in amongst Jimin’s bathroom paraphernalia, and even a hairdryer too, stashed away in a drawer.  You decide it’s worth making him wait the ten extra minutes it’ll take to dry your hair, wanting to ensure you look your best, and once you’re done you take a good, long look in the mirror.  You don’t look half bad, actually - although you could definitely do with some make up.  The blood you lost is still making you look far too pale, but now that you think about it perhaps that’ll help you fit right in.  
Finally, with one big bracing breath, you leave the safety of Jimin’s bathroom.  He’s still sat on the bed as you enter, back leant against the wall, but this time his eyes are closed, hands folded in his lap whilst his chest rises and falls so steadily you presume he must be asleep.  You approach slowly, thankful that your bare feet allow you yo move almost silently and take advantage of being the one of the two of you that’s awake, for once.  He’s caught you sleeping far too many times already, as far as you’re concerned.
Jimin looks even more otherworldly asleep than he does awake, if that were possible; like some sort of perfectly sculpted limestone statue that’s only marred by the vicious bruise purpling his cheekbone and the slight swelling of his bottom lip.  You pad your way closer, wanting to use this chance to look as much as you can while you can, eventually sitting yourself gingerly on the side of the bed and holding your breath until you’re certain you haven’t woken him.
He’s so pretty for a man; dark eyelashes fanned out across his pale cheeks, his rosy-red lips just slightly parted.  If only you were brave enough to close the rest of the metre gap between the two of you and steal a kiss. You want to so badly that you find yourself leaning forward slightly, just that little bit closer –
Jimin’s eyes suddenly open, and you jump out of your skin.  Springing from the bed like a naughty child caught in the act, bright red in the face, Jimin laughs over your stuttering nonsensical apologies, harder than you’ve ever seen him laugh before.  Inevitably you start to see the funny side too, laughing along with your head in your hand and a hand on your hip.
“Did you do that on purpose?”
“Not at all,” he replies through his remaining giggles, “I must just have very good timing.”  There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you when the laughter stops, and then all of a sudden it’s like Jimin actually sees you, a slow smile spreading across his face.  He looks you up and down as you stand there wondering what to do, chewing on your lip with your arms folded across your middle.  
“Arms down,” he tells you sharply, and you do as he asks straight away, “Turn around.”  Slowly, you turn on the spot, trying to ignore the way your heart has started bounding excitedly in your chest, and when you finally come back to face Jimin his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, that hungry look in his eyes again.  Gone is the playful Jimin whom was laughing with you only a moment ago.
You have to fight the urge to flinch when he abruptly rises from the bed.
“You look just how I imagined.”  Jimin’s voice is soft and smooth as he begins to circle you, viewing you from every angle, and you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes for fear of what you might see in them.  “I have one more thing for you.”  Your own insatiable curiosity has you looking upward to see what he means, but Jimin already is stood behind you just out of sight.  As you crane your head round to see you suddenly catch a flash of black being lifted up and over your head, coming to rest across your neck, and there’s a second of blind panic where you think means to choke you.  You gasp, adrenaline surging as your body readies itself to fight, but then you realise that the material Jimin has placed around your neck is just that; a thick band of black that he’s only fastening rather than pulling tight.
“I want you to keep this on,” Jimin explains from behind you, voice dropping to a whisper, “So everyone knows you’re mine.”  You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry, unable to do anything but stare straight ahead as you realise what this is; a collar - a mark of ownership.  Surely the bruises on your neck are proof enough of whom you belong to?
As if he’s read your thoughts Jimin comes to your side and pushes your hair back from your neck, your breath catching at the brush of his fingers.  The dress and the collar have gone a long way to cover everything up, but there’s still evidence of Jimin’s attack lingering there between the two, and he trails his fingertip over what can still be seen, his eyes following their path.
“I won’t mark you like this again.  It was vulgar of me.”  You fight the urge to tell him that you didn’t mind, that you like having those marks there as a constant reminder.
“What about your marks?” you ask, surprisingly yourself by boldly reaching out to touch his cheekbone.  Jimin takes a swift hold of your wrist and lowers your hand from his face, jaw tensing.  
“I heal quickly,” he assures you, dismissing your concerns with a shake of his head.
“Would feeding help?”  Jimin laughs now, letting go of your wrist and stepping backwards, running his hand through his hair.
“You’re temptation enough as it is, kitten, don’t keep tempting me further.”  Kitten?  Your insides flutter at this new nickname, butterflies playing havoc with your stomach as you nod, a little embarrassed.  You know as well as he does that you’re not strong enough to feed him yet, but for some reason you can’t stop yourself from offering.  He’s hurt because of you, and you want to help.
Jimin walks past you, heading to the closet from which he pulls out a large, heavy looking duffel bag.
“I have to go.  Namjoon has tasked me with something to do and it’d be unwise for me to ignore him.”  You can’t help but feel apprehensive about what that ‘something’ might be, especially since it seems to involve a conspicuous looking duffel bag full of unknown items, but you nod agreeably nonetheless, thinking that this is probably another one of those questions that are meant for another day.  It’s not like it could be anything more illegal than murdering people for their blood, right?
Jimin pauses next to you, bag in hand.  
“Sleep, if you want, or go and explore the house.  The others have promised your safety.”  Jimin grabs a jacket from the end of your chaise lounge, shrugging it on as he continues, “Just stay away from the third floor, that belongs to Namjoon.”  Again you nod, more than happy to agree to those terms - you’ll be staying away from him as much as possible if you have your way.  
Jimin runs his fingers along the edge of your collar as he’s about to depart,  his eyes drifting over you one last time, and just that one action alone steals your breath away.  “I’ll be back in the morning.”
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littlerose13writes · 6 years
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Sweeter Than Fiction Chapter 11: Happy Birthday
Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter have decided fifth year is going to be their year; the year everything works out for them, and if that means Scorpius keeping his huge crush on his best friend a secret, then that’s just what he’s going to have to do.
It’s just a crush. He can get over it well before fifth year is over, can’t he?
Chapter 11/27
Updates every Monday and Friday
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“Scor. Scorpius!”
Scorpius blinked sleepily into the darkness, feeling entirely unhappy with the amount of sleep he’d had and wondering why on earth he was being woken at such a ridiculous hour.
Albus’ grinning face loomed down over him. “Happy birthday.”
Scorpius groaned and stuffed his face into his pillow, then immediately removed it and eyed his best friend. “It’s just gone midnight, hasn’t it.”
“Yep,” said Albus, inviting himself to sit on top of Scorpius’ bedspread and pulling the curtains closed behind him. He was wearing a well-loved Holyhead Harpies t-shirt and pyjama bottoms with socks on his feet even though he looked wide awake, as though he hadn’t been to bed yet. Scorpius knew just-woken-up Albus well and his eyes were far too bright right now.
As he fully woke up, Scorpius started to appreciate the scene before him: Albus in his bed. Well, not in his bed but on top of it. They sat on top of each other’s beds all the time, but that was always when they were fully clothed. At that moment, Scorpius was in just a t-shirt and very aware of it. He was very glad his duvet hadn’t slipped down in his sleep and exposed him, turning Albus’ birthday surprise into a hideous embarrassment.
“You’re officially sixteen. How’s it feel?” Albus crossed his legs beneath him and Scorpius stared up at him, unable to concentrate on anything other than the fact that there was only a thin layer of fabric between Albus and his naked lower half.
“About the same as fifteen,” he said in an even, measured voice.
“Anyway, I have your present. It can’t wait ‘til morning.” Albus scrambled to get off the bed and Scorpius realised he was expecting him to leap up and follow instantly.
“Um, Al,” he felt himself turn Gryffindor-red. “I’m not… wearing anything… under-”
“Oh!” Albus gasped and leapt from the bed like it was infested with doxies. “Um, sorry, I’ll just… wait out here.”
He was gone in a whirl of hangings and Scorpius breathed out silently. He scrabbled around in his bed until he found his own pyjama bottoms crumpled at the foot of the bed where he’d kicked them off. When he’d pulled them back on, he steeled himself to open his hangings and pretend he hadn’t just been half nude within inches of his best friend.
Albus was waiting patiently from his own bed and he threw something soft in Scorpius’ direction, which he caught in both hands. It was dove-grey and fluffy between his fingers; a knitted jumper.
“You’ll want that, it’s cold.” Albus had pulled on a jumper of his own (navy blue with a small, white A in the top corner) and was stood smiling excitedly. He had a backpack on his back.
“Cold? Albus, are we leaving the dorm?”
Albus simply nodded. “Trust me.”
Scorpius tried not to think about what had happened the last time he’d trusted Albus with a rule-breaking scheme as he dubiously followed him down to the common room. The grey jumper belonged to Albus, who was shorter than Scorpius but with broader shoulders, and it hung cosily around his thin frame, exposing an inch of the bottom of his t-shirt.
Once in the common room, Albus swung the backpack around and pulled something out of it. He surreptitiously looked around him, even though nobody was ever around after midnight (except during exam season). “Come closer.”
He shuffled closer, recognising as he did what Albus was holding in his hands. “No way!”
Albus unrolled it and swung it around his shoulders, looking smug as his entire body disappeared before his eyes. “Yep. Legitimately borrowed with permission this time.”
“James lent it to you?” Scorpius asked, as Albus took the cloak off and checked the contents of his backpack. “I thought he was more protective of it after you stole it?”
“He is. Apparently Lil’s been trying to get him to let her use it for weeks.”
“But he said yes to you?”
“Told him he owed me for breaking my ankle.” Albus shrugged with a grin and gestured for Scorpius to come under the cloak with him. They’d both grown a lot since fourth year and it was a bit more of a squeeze; it was all Scorpius could do not to wrap his arm around Albus’ shoulders to stop it uncomfortably bumping into his side.
“Where are we going?” Scorpius hissed as they exited the common room.
“You’ll see, happy birthday,” Albus repeated, reaching into his pocket and removing the portable silencing charm, which hovered in the air between them and glowed faintly.
They trudged through the castle, Albus taking the lead at each corner. Scorpius couldn’t help but think about how close their hands were to each other, since Albus had swapped the hand he was holding the cloak with. Once or twice, their fingertips brushed together, making Scorpius’ heart speed up. Albus kept looking up at him and grinning wickedly in a way which was driving Scorpius mad with longing.
“The astronomy tower?” Scorpius questioned as they climbed the staircase and their destination became clear.
“Happy birthday!”
They stepped out onto the platform at the top of the tower, where the usual telescope stands were lined up ready for classes. Moonlight bathed the stony surface in a glowing light but everything looked ordinary.
Albus pulled the cloak away and bundled it back into his backpack. He pointed his wand at the silencing charm, whispering a banishing charm, and it whizzed to hover at the top of the staircase instead. Reaching into his backpack again, he emerged with his music box and placed it on the ground, tapping it once with his wand so music started playing. Another backpack endeavour brought two small objects which Albus placed on the ground in front of them.
“Engorgio,” he whispered, pointing his wand at them and looking triumphant as they grew once more to full size, comfortable-looking squashy cushions.
If Scorpius didn’t know any better, he would say this whole scene had the makings of something rather more romantic than a boy wishing his best friend happy birthday, but he squashed these thoughts to the back of his mind. He only had one real friend, how would he know? Besides, Albus had almost definitely kissed Thea so he probably had a crush on her anyway.
“Happy birthday!” He sank into one of the cushions and Scorpius did the same.
“You’ve said that four times now, you know.”
“Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday.” Albus smirked.
“Why all this?” Scorpius smiled as Albus once again reached into his backpack and came back with two bottles of butterbeer and several bags of sweets.
“You’re my best friend, it’s your birthday, I don’t tell you enough that I appreciate you sticking around.”
“Albus…” Scorpius went to protest this statement but Albus silenced him with a look, reaching into his backpack again.
He handed Scorpius a wrapped present which seemed to take up the last of the space in his now floppy and empty backpack. The wrapping paper was patterned with the Appleby Arrows logo on a pale blue background and the present itself was box-shaped, but long and narrow.
“Can I guess what it is?” Scorpius said eagerly, turning it over in his hands.
“It’s what you think it is, but look.”
Scorpius unwrapped it carefully, folding the paper neatly and placing it down while Albus drummed his fingers impatiently beside him. Inside was a smart, black box edged with gold and writing stating Sinistra and Babcock in gilt lettering across the top. He gently eased the lid off and opened it to reveal a glossy, emerald green telescope.
“Albus, it’s beautiful.” He turned it over in his hands, noticing the intricately engraved patterns winding their way over the outside.
“I picked it completely on my own, nobody helped me.” He was looking adorably pleased with himself. “Test it out!”
Scorpius didn’t need telling twice, and extended the scope carefully, holding it up to his eye and twisting the dial on the side to focus it. The small circle of sky in his eyesight was empty, but a small, golden arrow appeared on one side, pointing over to the left. Instinctively, Scorpius moved the telescope in the direction of the arrow and a star came into view. Lettering in the same gold as the arrow appeared, reading epsilon pegasi and indicating the star.
“That’s so cool!” He pulled the telescope from his eye and looked at Albus in delight. “Amazing.”
“You’re not allowed it in your Astronomy OWL though, I’m afraid.”
“Thankyou, Albus. I really do love it quite a bit.” He put the telescope back up to his eye and just stared and stared at the starry sky.
“Happy birthday,” his best friend said again, this time in a soft whisper.
After Hogsmeade and his birthday, Scorpius barely thought about his nightmares or panic attacks for the whole last week of October. He felt like just being reassured by someone like Victoire that what he was feeling was perfectly normal had done something to help him relax more. But Halloween was coming up and Scorpius was concerned the significance of the day would bring up his anxiety again.
Halloween fell on a Sunday this year, so he didn’t even have any classes to distract himself. He slept in as late as he could, getting breakfast at the last possible second and collecting some toast for Albus too (he never woke up in time for breakfast on a Sunday). They munched together companionably in the common room, then spent an enjoyable few hours practising the diminuendo and engorgio charms on each other’s possessions in the dorm.
Scorpius was a little enthusiastic at one point and shrunk Albus’ toothbrush down so small it took both of them crawling around on all fours to find it again and put it back to normal. By the time they found it, Albus was checking his watch and starting to look worried. “I should get going soon.”
Scorpius mentally smacked himself. He had completely forgotten that Albus was spending the afternoon with his dad.
“Are you coming to the Halloween feast later?” He sat down on the end of his bed.
Albus smiled and nodded, joining Scorpius on the narrow edge of his bed. “I’ll be back in time. I told Dad I couldn’t just leave you all day, not today.”
Not for the first time, Scorpius was amazed at how Albus just seemed to know him so well. A selfish and immature part of his brain wanted to insist Albus didn’t go and stayed there with him instead.
“Don’t worry about me, have fun with your dad.”
Albus sighed. “There’s a reason he’s coming on Halloween. We both know what it is. I suggested you come too but he wants it to be a father-son thing, you know?”
“I understand. Go, have fun, fulfill all your father-son-ness.”
“I’ll only be a couple of hours. That’s about how long it takes for Dad to become unbearably soppy with me these days.” He sat up a little straighter. “Al, I’m so pleased we can talk like this now. I really feel like you’re growing up and I’m proud of the person you’re becoming.”
Albus might have described words like that as unbearably soppy, but Scorpius knew he was using humour to hide how pleased he really was. He also knew that those words would mean the world to him coming from his own father. When Draco told Scorpius he was proud of him, he felt like Bathilda Bagshot had published another book from the grave.
“You say soppy, I say sweet,” he summarised his feelings.
Albus just pushed himself up from the bed and went to retrieve his cloak. “I’ll be back by four, promise. Back for the feast, and back in here tonight.”
He’d taken a pause, hovering around the end of his bed, as if he wanted to say something else and didn’t know how to.
“I’ll be in here, I’m sleeping here, and I don’t use my silencing charm anymore.”
Scorpius understood what he was trying to say; he was having the same worry that Scorpius was that tonight could be another nightmare night. “Thanks, Al.”
With Albus gone, it was harder to distract himself from unwanted thoughts of the Halloween before and the events which led up to it. He went to the library and tried to read, but the words wriggled around the page and refused to make any sense to his brain. His limbs felt awkward and almost achy in the library chair he’d chosen and he found himself staring longingly out of the window into the grounds below, even though it was cold. The library was busy, with practice NEWTs coming up that week, and Scorpius found he could no longer sit still and read like he’d thought he wanted to. He wanted to be outside and to move his body like never before.
Remembering what Albus often said about his new running habit clearing his head, Scorpius headed back to the dorm to bundle up for the weather and collect his music box and earphones. He paused as he considered borrowing Albus’ trainers and realised it would be rather ambitious expecting himself to run, and his own ordinary shoes would do just fine for a solitary walk around the grounds. (Besides, Albus’ feet were at least two sizes smaller than his.)
It was a crisp, cool day and a November chill was just starting to creep in, enough that Scorpius needed to bundle his Slytherin scarf up tightly around his chin. He wrapped his arms around himself and cast a passable warming charm over his coat. It meant he could complete a whole lap of the lake (which took six songs) without suffering from the cold.
As he walked, Scorpius thought over his feelings of apprehension over going to sleep that night. It was no different to any other night, really, just because it happened to be a year since everything had come to a head. The things he dreamt about usually weren’t even the things which had happened on Halloween.
The concept of time and when things happened in relation to each other almost didn’t mean anything to Scorpius anymore after their adventure with the time turner. His mum’s birthday, in late June, was a day he expected to feel especially sad about missing her. Instead, he’d found the day brought with it a sense of numbness, almost like the universe was expecting him to be sad that day so it didn’t even matter if he was or wasn’t.
Was that how it could work today? There was an expectation that today would bring up his anxiety so why did it matter what he dreamt about that night?
For completely Malfoy the Platonic reasons, he was very glad Albus had recognised he was worried. It occurred to him that it was probably because Albus himself was worried too; Halloween last year had hardly been an easy day for him either.
He was pulled from his reverie by a startled shriek which cut into his soft music. He pulled his earphones out and heard several twigs snapping and the loud cry of what sounded like a horse. Seconds later, a pure white creature appeared from behind a tree and Scorpius goggled at it.
It was a unicorn. An actual, real, right-there-in-front-of-him unicorn, wild from the Forbidden Forest. This was no Care of Magical Creatures lesson.
Was he supposed to bow? No, that was hippogriffs. Fully grown unicorns prefer witches, he remembered, which put him at a slight disadvantage.
“Come back here,” a voice hissed and the unicorn turned to survey whoever it was disdainfully. “Please, I need you. Come with me.”
In the moment the unicorn was still and staring mournfully at the person behind the tree, it disappeared from view as a pair of hands threw something over it. An invisibility cloak.
No sooner had the speaker popped out from behind the large tree, they recognised who the other was.
“Lily?”
“Scorpius?”
“What are you… why do you have… was that a unicorn?” Scorpius spluttered and Lily froze and smiled politely, as if Scorpius was just mistaken.
“What, that thing? Hmm, maybe. Haven’t really examined it closely enough yet to know for sure. Just happened across it really.” The space behind Lily moved and the cloak slipped off. Lily swore and scrambled to cover it back up again while Scorpius stared at the creature. She tugged on what Scorpius now saw was a short rope tied round the unicorn in an attempt to conceal it from view again.
“You’ve tied it up.”
Lily looked at the rope in her hands as if seeing it for the first time and stuffed it out of sight, but she said nothing.
“You’ve hidden it under James’ invisibility cloak.” Scorpius persisted.
“Okay, Scorpius, you caught me. Put me in detention, prefect. I’ve wanted a pet unicorn since I was a little girl and now I finally have one and I’m going to look after it and feed it and brush its tail and polish its horn and-“
Scorpius got the distinct impression he was being lied to.
“I’m going to leave, and I’m just going to let you get on with whatever it is you’re doing. I didn’t even see you today.” He backed away slowly and fearfully. Lily grinned sheepishly and tried to usher the unicorn in the opposite direction.
Twice now, Scorpius had come across Lily at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He hadn’t thought much of it last time; her explanation that she was doing a pre-match yoga ritual was so Lily he’d believed every word. But the unicorn? That was definitely shady and he wasn’t sure if he should tell Albus.
“Hi, Scorpius!” A bright and unfamiliar voice carried clearly over the corner of the lake to him and he recognised the speaker as Poppy Longbottom, Lily’s best friend.
“Er, hi.”
“I’m just enjoying the view.” She grinned enthusiastically and pointed to the lake, tugging a strand of her blonde hair out from under the strap of her backpack.
“Great, enjoy.” He made to leave but she kept talking.
“Yes, isn’t Hogwarts beautiful at this time of year? Are you staying for the Christmas holidays? I am. Mum and my brother come here for the holidays and we stay with Dad. Hogwarts Christmas dinner is so good!”
She said all this very quickly and in a loud, false-sounding voice.
“That’s… interesting. Er, no, I’m going home for Christmas.”
His warming charm was wearing off and the cold air was beginning to bite at his cheeks, which had probably already turned pink in the weather; one of the disadvantages of being so pale.
“You’re not going to give me a detention are you? I didn’t even know prefects patrolled out here.” Poppy asked worriedly.
Scorpius frowned. “I’m not on patrol. Why would I give you a detention? You’re not doing anything wrong.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Just checking. Dad’ll take my broomstick away if I get any more detentions between now and Christmas. I’ve only had twelve! That’s not even that bad…” She folded her arms exasperatedly. “And only three of them were really my fault.”
Scorpius sniggered and wondered what Professor Longbottom made of his rebellious daughter if he was threatening to take her broomstick away.
He left her grumbling about how unfair it was that Professor Vector didn’t understand her need to talk out loud to process what she was learning and headed back towards the castle entrance. The walk had done him good and he could almost see the appeal in Albus’ runs around the grounds. Almost.
The steps leading up to the door were covered in damp footprints from the wet grass below. As Scorpius began to climb up them, he heard someone calling his name from behind. Not just someone. Albus.
He turned around, pleased to see his best friend hurrying towards him, his cloak flapping behind him. A few paces back, Scorpius could see his dad too and he smiled politely. Even though he was fairly sure Harry Potter didn’t dislike him or consider him a dark cloud anymore, he was still more cautious than he was around Albus’ mum.
“What are you doing out here?” Albus asked breathlessly when he reached Scorpius. He noticed his best friend’s eyes were red-rimmed.
“Just been for a walk. Hello, Mr Potter.”
“Hi, Scorpius.” Harry came to a stop and clapped a hand on Albus’ shoulder. Now he was close enough, Scorpius could see that Harry’s eyes were red, too. “I’m just here popping in to see Neville and Minerva while I drop Albus off. How’s your year going?”
They pushed open the doors to the castle and Scorpius chatted about being a prefect and talked vaguely about OWL prep. Harry seemed genuinely interested, but Scorpius couldn’t help but notice Albus was quieter than usual. When they parted ways at the entrance to the dungeons, there was a moment of silence before they both broke it simultaneously.
“Are you alright?”
“Sorry about that.”
Scorpius was flustered. “Sorry for what? You don’t need to be sorry.”
“Sorry for my dad grilling you with questions. I know he can be a bit much.”
“No, no, it’s no problem. You know I can talk for England. I’m just pleased he seems to like me now.”
They reached the common room and Albus shook his head. “Of course he likes you. He asked about you before he even asked how I was doing on the Quidditch team.”
Scorpius smiled at this knowledge and then remembered what he needed to ask Albus.
“Are you alright? How was it?”
Albus paused and played nervously with the back of his hair. “It was… actually really nice. We talked about, you know, last year and some other stuff, and it was a bit emotional. But it was good, I liked it.”
“I’m glad you had a good time.”
“We’re about to have an even better time eating our body weight in sweets though.” They exchanged a grin and headed back to the common room to change for the Halloween Feast.
Scorpius needn’t have worried about having a nightmare, because the amount of sugar he’d consumed meant his dreams that night were more bizarre than terrifying.
It started with Professor Flitwick handing him a large rabbit at the end of Charms which Scorpius was required to carry with him when he went outside. After several shaky laps of the lake, which felt effortless, the rabbit had finally grown a full size unicorn’s horn which meant Scorpius could release it into the forest. He did so to several rounds of applause from a watching crowd of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and also his grandmother, who was wearing a peacock feather boa.
Just as Grandma was offering Scorpius a deck of Exploding Snap cards, he felt himself wake up abruptly. He stared around the dark space above him, trying to identify what had pulled him from sleep. He wasn’t too hot or too cold, he didn’t need to use the bathroom, he hadn’t been having an unpleasant dream. It was like his body had just decided he needed to be awake.
He’d once read that awaking like this meant somebody somewhere was thinking about you and their energy woke you up. Scorpius wasn’t sure how much he believed this theory; who would be thinking about him in the early hours of the morning? Dad would be asleep surely. It must be a coincidence.
As he settled onto his side, the familiar sounds of the dorm echoed around him. He could hear Higgs snoring lightly and the ticking of the overly-loud clock Cole kept on his bedside table. To his left - Albus’ side - he heard heavy breathing and suddenly a deep sniff. Scorpius blinked twice and listened for it again, remaining completely still.
He heard it again: another sniff followed by some snuffling noises. It wasn’t a sound he was used to hearing from Albus but it certainly wasn’t one he could let his best friend make by himself.
Scorpius eased himself out of bed and crept very carefully to Albus’ bedside, ready to apologise at any second, hoping he’d got it wrong. But the sound was unmistakable this close, and he gingerly pulled back the hangings of Albus’ bed to find his best friend curled up at the head of the bed, hugging his knees into his chest and softly crying into his folded arms.
He looked up at Scorpius’ intrusion and sighed, unfolding his arms only to then fold them the other way instead.
“Nightmare?” Scorpius whispered gently and Albus nodded, not making eye contact.
“Sorry,” he said tearfully, sniffing loudly and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. Scorpius shook his head and lowered himself down so he was sitting beside Albus on the bed. “There was me worrying about you and then I go and have one tonight.”
“Don’t apologise, you can’t help it.” He paused for a second and Albus watched him silently. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Albus shook his head firmly. “No. I want to forget it.”
It had been many months since Albus had had a nightmare at school; Scorpius thought back to fourth year when it was much more common and what had helped his best friend back then. He didn’t like to be coddled, he preferred to be distracted.
“Alright, Twenty Questions or Snog, Marry, Hex?”
Albus looked at him incredulously through tears. “Snog, Marry, Hex? When have we ever played that before?”
“We haven’t, now would be the first time.”
Albus rolled his eyes and reached for his wand, summoning the portable silencing charm and activating it inside his bed. “Okay, I’ll start. Moaning Myrtle, Rita Skeeter and Professor McGonagall.”
“On second thoughts, let’s play Twenty Questions. I’ll start.” Scorpius smiled at Albus’ triumphant smirk and crossed his legs on top of the bed. Albus threw him a spare blanket which he tossed around his shoulders and they stayed in Albus’ bed, laughing together for the next hour until Albus passed out asleep and Scorpius crept back to his own bed.
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