#sounds cheesy but they love each other without bounds

[nishirikixo]

Can I pls request a fic where Sunghoon comes home from practice and he’s already been having such a bad day and then reader says something small but because he’s already upset she makes him cry and she’s rlly confused why he’s having such a strong reaction when he’s not usually the type to. Then she suggests they go for a walk to the park and he opens up to her and they talk things through

this is such a sweet idea I'd love to write it 🥹 thank you for requesting ♡

The Cure

pairings: idol!bf!sunghoon × reader

warnings: nothing really, besides a few kisses (if u see any mistakes please let me know!)

Sorry that this is isn't very long, I'm not the best at writing soft yet and the ending is kinda cheesy lol but I hope you like this 🫶

Sunghoon never liked to show his emotions in front of you. He didn't want you to think he was weak or think any less of him. You of course, wouldn't ever cross the thought. You loved Sunghoon and if he ever opened up to you in any way you'd do your best to comfort him and support him.

When he arrived home from practice you didn't greet him like you normally do. You had your headphones in while you were folding laundry in your bedroom so you didn't hear him open the front door. He was slightly upset by that but he knew it wasn't intentional so he brushed it off. Sunghoon just really wanted to see you right now, he got into an argument with some of his members over a part in their choreography and they left without resolving it. He also had some articles about him with rumors from before his debut and even though it was obvious to anyone that they werent true, the stress was really eating away at him.

He walked into the room seeing you humming and folding laundry, "Yah, Y/n, I'm home" He tapped your shoulder causing you to jump, "What the- you scared me! Knock on the door next time, don't sneak up on me like a ghost!"

He doesn't know what it was, maybe the volume or tone of your voice, maybe the way you were startled when he touched you, or maybe just that he couldn't take it anymore and this was bound to happen. He broke down in front of you for the first time, a waterfall of tears streaming down his face.

"Hoonie- I- I'm sorry-" You weren't sure what you did that was so upsetting it made him cry, but you wanted to fix whatever it was, seeing him like this broke your heart. You hugged him, letting him cry into your shoulder, rubbing his back softly.

You both stayed like that for a moment until he squeezed you in a tight hug before letting go. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to be like that.." You grabbed his hand in yours, "Don't be sorry, it's okay to cry. But... was it something I said..?" He shook his head rapidly, squeezing your hand in both of his, "No, no, no, baby it wasn't you at all." You felt relieved that it wasn't you who'd upset him, but what could've happened that hurt him so much?

"What happened then, Hoon?" He really wanted to tell you. He trusted you more than anyone else, but he felt awkward talking about himself in that way. His lips downturned in a small frown. "Well.. it was... theres just.." You didn't want to push him with something he wasn't ready to talk about, so you thought it would be better to just help him get his mind off of it instead.

"Don't worry Hoon, it's okay. You don't have to tell me if you can't," You caressed his cheek, softly smiling at him, "why don't we go for a walk? Just to get some fresh air, it might help." Sunghoon still felt guilty, not wanting to make it seem like he didn't trust you, but he agreed to go with you since fresh air sounded like a good idea.

The two of you walked together hand in hand down the sweetly lit pathway of the park. A comfortable silence had fallen over you both, you appreciated each others presence and it left a sense of peace. Occasionally one of you would point out something that caught your eye or reminded you of something and you'd share a sweet laugh together.

After about 30 minutes of walking Sunghoon stopped you both abruptly. "Y/n..." You looked up at him, seeing that sorrowful gaze from before appear on his face. "Hoon..?"

He pulled you with him to a nearby bench, sitting down on it and motioning for you to sit with him. You opted for crouching on the floor in front of him instead, you always preffered to be face to face with people when talking with them. You held his hands in yours again as you watched him gather his thoughts.

"Today... I had a hard time with the other members," Sunghoon paused as if waiting to see your reaction to him being more emotional around you, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze letting him know he was perfectly fine to continue. "There was a big disagreement, they were all against me and I felt terrible. I love them all and I don't want them to be mad at me but I couldn't help it, I got angry and we were all yelling and..."

His head lowered and a few tears dripped onto your hands, followed by small sniffles. You balanced on your heels, lifting yourself slightly to embrace him like before, letting his head rest on your shoulder and leaving yours in the crook of his neck. You placed soft kisses there, his arms reached around to hold you. "I'm sorry this made you feel so upset, Hoon. I know you love them, I know they love you too."

"What if they can't forgive me. Or what if they can't treat me the same after." His sobs tore you to pieces. You hated to see him in so much pain, "They will forgive you, it'll be like nothing ever happened. Just make sure you guys clear everything up and I promise it'll be okay." You stroked the back of his head, brushing your fingers through his soft straight hair. "Is there anything else on your mind?" He softly hummed and you felt him nod his head.

"There's also... some rumors about me... saying I bullied my classmates from before I was an idol, I would never do that though. I know no one believes it but it gets to me, Y/n." He felt the anxiety in him lessen the more he opened up to you. He always had his fears that it would be negative but it was clear your view of him didn't change and it didn't make him feel low, it relieved some of his stress. "It makes sense that it would bother you, anyone would be bothered. I'm upset hearing about it too, you're the kindest person I know. My sweet Hoon."

If it was possible that his love for you could grow, it had tonight. Within seconds his lips were on yours in a soft tender kiss. It was slow and passionate and you could feel every word he wanted to express through that kiss. Thank you. I love you. I need you here with me. To him, you are the cure for everything.

In one swift movement he lifted you from the ground and onto his lap. You gasped in shock, throwing a playful slap to his chest. You both shared a laugh and a few more sweet kisses. You sat together for a little while longer at the park, enjoying the beautiful night before heading in.

You could feel a difference in Sunghoon after that. He carried himself more confidently than he had earlier in the day, closer to his usual self. It relieved you so much to know that he was feeling better and that he was comfortable being vulnerable around you. He too was proud of himself for putting his feelings out there and it gave him the strength to work things out with his members in the morning.

With one last kiss, you bid each other good night. He held you in his arms in a way that would seem as if he'd never be able to see you again. He wanted you to know that he appreciated everything you did for him, and that he'd do the same for you. You both had a mutual understanding that you were each other's medication.

You were his cure and he was your cure.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #enhypen imagines #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #sunghoon x female reader

[hee-blee-art]

are there any specific ocs your rotating in your brain rn that you wanna talk about ✨👀

yes! always :)

recently I've been thinking a lot about my toyhouse corners guys as I continue working on their comic, especially basil, alfred, foster, and mac :) coincidentally (or not so) they're the four of the cast who do the most yearning and pining and of course I'm very normal about all that (that's a lie they all make me insane). I can't wait to reveal more about them, I could (and will) talk about them for ages (any questions always welcome, I'll try not to spoil anything too big). particularly I've been thinking about basil's past, his complex troubles with getting close to people, and his relationship to whisk, a troubled kitten who he sees a lot of his younger self in and may or may not be fixated on trying to help because he wishes he could somehow reach though time and help himself when he was a kitten in a similar position to her. all in all I am very excited to keep putting those guys in situations (there will be a candyland, a creepy safety village-esque town, and a mirage-like travelling megastore called appleworld in their future).

I've also been thinking (as I often do) about my tragic fantasy gays, sebastian & konstantine. I've been busy enriching their world with lore and planning out their story so I can start (yet another) draft for the first book of the grey circle, and with that comes a lot of thinking about those two, the haunted prince & his begrudgingly valiant knight who knows him better than anyone and yet cannot know him fully because of his unfathomable secret... oh, there's just something so intimate about being doomed by the narrative and bound together, done part by none, not even death <3 they're very enemies to lovers in a "we're on the same side but I can't stand you but I also can't stand to be without you and if anyone messes with you I'll kill them" way, which I can't get enough of myself.

also! the grey circle has lots of characters I haven't posted about nearly as much but are so dear to me and that I oft rotate in my brain, like ilèan & cainiph, who are a very skilled fairy princess with truly profound mommy issues and cain-and-abel vibes with her sister & an adrenaline junkie bounty hunter who is a bit of a hothead and accidently becomes a werewolf :) another mismatched pair that end up needing each other as much as air. and of course, gren & bain, the little mousy halfling-type creatures who are inseparable best friends in love beyond words, a sly bartender & a leisure-loving bard respectively, both incredibly curious and brave beyond credit, setting out to right a wrong and solve an old family mystery. I think about the grey circle very often, it's one of my favourite little worlds to visit in my head & I can't wait until I have something written that allows others to visit as well :)

the last herd of ocs I've been preoccupied with lately are my room & board cast, the characters for a comic idea I have about silly and bizarre sci-fi/fantasy comic about alternate-dimension-faring roommates travelling in a house-turned-spaceship in search of a (the?) holy grail. they're all old ocs of mine (6+ years I think) that I've rebooted a few different times, and returning to them after some years off feels like reconnecting with old friends as cheesy as that sounds. I genuinely missed them, and I'm excited to be messing about with a story for them again, even if it's just for fun. I've especially been thinking about the main(est) character, martin, and how her journey with transness fits into their larger existential and relentlessly silly adventures.

thnks for offering the stage to talk about my ocs! I love talking about them but I'm not always sure anyone wants to hear, but perhaps it's time I curb that mindset and just start putting more out there because it's fun for me :) also! if anyone reads all this, first of all thnk you for indulging me, and second I am genuinely always open to hearing about other people's ocs, whether through ask or dm or whatever! I know it can be intimidating to just reach out of the blue but I really do love talking about people's characters / stories / creations and I am always open to it. maybe I ought to make some more dedicated venue for that sort of thing but yeah casual oc chat is always an option! I hope anyone who sees this has a wonderful day / night :)

#asks #my very sincere thnks whimsy; this was such a nice ask to receive! #your artwork & characters are so lovely & I am very humbled that you'd be interested in mine :) #toyhouse corners #they grey circle #room & board #(I may end up archiving this on butchjesus but I'll leave it up here for now)

[itzchrissydoesstuff]

One thing. And one thing only.

Baby, I love you so much. Life without you, would be like earth with no atmosphere, cold, dark, no more of that warm feeling, or the smell of flowers blooming, I cherish every moment we talk and spend with each other, I know I may sound cheesy as hell right now, but I don’t care. I love you, and I want you to know that. I’ll scream it to the whole world if I have to, and I will! Some day. I’ll let everyone know on this earth, just how much I love you.

I love you so much baby. So much, that not even all the words in the dictionary can describe it. Words can’t even explain it, I feel so strong and powerful when I’m near you, a feeling, I want it to last forever, and ever, I want us to grow old, die in each others arms, and stay together forever in the afterlife, bound together, never apart.

Okay, I’m done ranting, I just really wanted to tell you how much I really love and appreciate you! <33✨💕🤧

Baby… I… I… *passes out*

*gets back up* DARLINGGGGG OMGGGGGGGGGG 💕✨💕✨💕✨💕✨

IM TRYING SO HARD NOT TO LOOSE IT BC IM IN PUBLIC RN BUT OMGGGG THANK YOUUUUUUUU I LOVE YOU SO F*CKING MUCHH 💕✨💕✨💕✨💕✨💕✨💕✨💕✨

IM GONNA CRYYY YOURE SO SWEET *bawls my eyes out*

OH, MY LOVE!! I WANNA MARRY YOU SO BAD!! I WANNA SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH YOU! I ADORE YOU 💕✨💕✨✨✨✨💕✨💕💕✨✨💕💕💕✨✨

*catches my breath* okay… I’m done now…

#chrissy acts a fool #chrissy’s in love #message #chrissy x asher #I LOVE YOU BABY

[greenorangevioletgrass]

OKAY SO when i said my thoughts around carmy and bradley werent coherent at all I meant that quite literally 😭 i havent thought about it in detail aside from the rough idea BUT if i have to expand on it i’d say it could be something along the lines of denim through the decades? or taking into account what you said about james dean/marlo brando i think it would be fun to see a campaign centered around iconic moments of denim in pop culture too. Maybe recreating some movie sets and outfits and such. 

BUT im also thinking something a lot more chill bc ik recreating movie sets n stuff can be 1) a hassle and 2) a lil cheesy, so considering that the people involved in the campaign would be people with an interest in vintage denim n such i was thinking about  levis incorporating some vintage pieces from personal collections. Picture one of the countless denims carmy stores inside his oven (sob) or one of bradley’s staples too. Mix that with a limited edition line of ‘brought from the past’ jeans, jackets, etc. and i think itd be golden. 

By no means am I a denim expert, I’m talking out of my ass here after a few minutes of research LMFAO but its fun to think about it.

I’m sure carmy would be WAYYY more hesitant to participate than bradley. The latter is probably ecstatic and doesnt let his manager (im guessing levis would be in contact with his manager) finish. As soon as the words levis and collab leave his mouth, Bradley's sold. 

I think carmy would be interested in working with levis, a little flattered that they considered him. Maybe taken aback too bc im guessing he’s a very private person and doesnt talk much about his denim collection and such so levi’s def did their research lol. Still, i think he was going to turn them down and then Sugar and Syd found out and tried to convince him bc ‘its levis, u gotta say yes’ but it didnt exactly work and in the end it was Richie who replied to the email with something along the lines ‘id be honoured to be a part of the campaign’ or smth weird in his attempt to impersonate carmen.

With the two of them on set, i quite frankly don’t know if they would interact or how that interaction would go. Think carmy might be too nervous to properly interact bc its a hectic environment. Maybe bradley saw him all closed up and semi alone and decided to strike a conversation with him, talking about denim and such. What do you think?

BTW im so sorry about the typos i keep making, i only notice after you respond LMFAO i swear my english is good, promise.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS!!! thank you so much for indulging me 😭😭 and no worries, i feel like we’re speaking in a language beyond english where we’re just throwing concepts at each other and we actually understand it. it’s beautiful.

i totally get it that recreating movie sets is a lot. what they can do is recreate looks inspired by these iconic movies (like james dean in rebel without a cause—carmy would look great in that!) they can do a studio shoot or an outdoor city shoot like JAW’s CK campaign (still not over that btw skshsjdhsj)

ok hear me out: carmy is reserved in his private life but i feel like deep down he likes being the golden boy. remember his monologue abt smoking ppl out wherever he works? and just the way he steps up to lead and plays up to people who wanna hear what he wants to say. i feel like with the restaurant on the rise, he’s bound to have done some interviews, and on one of them he went on a hyperfixation-fueled tangent abt vintage denim like the first episode.

and you’re so right, it still would take him a lot of nudging and jostling to say yes. i loooove the idea of richie very eloquently replying to the email and making carmy sound very eager and cordial 🤭 (i imagine he would be a very short emailer/texter if he ever does reply)

with carmy, i feel like it’s not so much that he dislikes hectic environments (how much more hectic can his kitchen get, right?) but it’s the kind of hectic that he can’t control. and it drives him nuts, and he’d take smoke breaks often and eventually, bradley goes with him although he doesn’t smoke. he’d say that he has been to noma a few times and he enjoyed it and they bonded over restaurants and food and all. he’d love to visit the bear some time, to which carmy is like “of course let me know anytime you’re in town”

(Bradley thinks carmy is one of the coolest people he’s ever met. Carmy thinks for someone who’s that famous, Bradley is super chill.)

#this is an unlikely duo that i am INTO #bradley bradshaw #carmy berzatto #carmy & bradley crossover #fx the bear #top gun maverick #footballer!bradley #ask ava

[demonslayedher]

More spoilery thoughts and opinions on Episode 1 of the Swordsmith Village Arc

I've seen some opinions out there that the new OP is cheesy, and... you know what, it kinda is. However, this is also a bit of a cheesy arc for how it spoon feeds us the back stories of two Pillars without reaching the height of their arcs, like the previous two did with a focus on a single Pillar each. Plus, Gyokko and Hantengu are kind of the throwaway Moons. I'm sure the song will quickly grow on me and I really like some of the visuals and subtle use of early dawn lighting.

Poor Genya gets shafted though, he's bound to get Akaza come-from-behind marketing treatment, he has to. I had the pleasure this time overhearing an excited Genya fangirl leaving the theater.

Mitsuri really truly is adorable and I love her performance of so many lines, but... I kinda thought her interactions with Nezuko were gonna be cuter than that and I'm still sad I didn't get to hear her singing "Miya-san" so I guess I'll just have to do my best Hanazawa-san impression and sing it myself.

Gotou still steals the show, though. I know this is supposed to be the big flashy Upper Moon meeting in which the Fortress steals the show, but no, this was Gotou's stage. His vocal performance has so much personality and I love it.

Jumping back to non-spoilery territory, I love that scene of Gyutaro bullying Tanjiro, it's got so much impact. They went so hard on that and just slowing it down and letting every action breathe. Also, Daki's death tears me up EVERY TIME.

Also going backwards, I love the AMVs at the beginning, the editing on the Gurenge one is especially chef's kiss. Lining up Tanjiro's line with "terashite" is just wow.

I love Tanjiro banging his head on the floor. I love Nezuko crawling around under tables.

Tecchin's two styles of vocal performance worked so well for me. Also I love hearing all the Kakushi and random swordsmiths, I love how there's so many individuals in this Corp. I do not know what was up with the Kakushi waiting for Mitsuri to follow her, though. In the manga I read her discomfort as needing Mitsuri to hurry and come but being unable to pester a Pillar, but the anime the seemed to take it as the Kakushi being all fluffy in the head listening to to Mitsuri praise Tanjiro and give him advice (and to be fair, I was also fluffy in the head listening to that scene again, I feel all wrapped up and warm in Hanazawa-san's voice in surround sound), but.... it comes off like the Kakushi has a really, really big crush on Mitsuri. I mean, sure, but... it was a touch distracting.

I really don't mind the "Tanjiro is a shonen hero who has encounters with sexy women and he cannot help but be a bit bothered" thing. Tanjiro's as respectful as it gets for a teenage boy with a typical sex drive, what with being able to still carry on a conversation with Shinobu when she gets in his personal space or Mitsuri being absentmindedly provocative. Cover her!! Save the rice balls!! On the other hand, I was annoyed by Zenitsu's one appearance when I first saw this, but on second watch, yeah, what else do we expect from Zenitsu, it wasn't all that bad to just be excited that a girl might be thinking of him. But also, it's so sweet that Aoi got to have a little narration? I feel so bad for her running into walls, though!

Wow, that last paragraph was all over the place.

Kanao is still so timid, with how much she talks in the fight with Douma and even during the fight with Muzan, it's easy to forget she's still barely gotten used to this whole speaking up thing, after years of never saying anything unless prompted. Poor baby is still so fragile. I love how after her startling outburst Kiyo still winds up mothering her by suggesting what they go do next.

I really like Yoriichi's voice, it's similar to Tanjuro but filled with a very different mindset, one that really does make you feel what Tanjiro feels for him, wishes he wouldn't think such lonesome things. I like that he feels like a full grown man and not someone who can be confused with the teenage members of the cast. Also, great editing choice to end the episode on Tanjiro seeing the battle doll, instead of seeing it later on like he did in the manga. Also, baby Sumire has reddish hair, eeeeee!!!

THE TITLE CARD FOR THIS EPISODE HAD A MOTIF OF YORIICHI'S EARRING AND PLUM BLOSSOMS LIKE ON UTA'S KIMONO, EEEEEE

Speaking of previews, I was not happy to see all those previews of settings in the Infinity Fortress Arc. I'M NOT READY TO WATCH MORE PILLARS DIE, OKAY, but I do like that Ufotable is winking at us like, "oh yeah, you're totally gonna get it all, see, we already have models started." I assume they'll add more details once they're animating that season, but speaking of improving on the model in later seasons... HOLY SMOKES, LOOK AT DOUMA'S EYES

You know what? I found Gyokko's awkward/uncomfortable "uhhhhnnn"'s kind of endearing and I'm looking forward to more. Also, seeing him in animation is already making Hantengu grow on me in a "he's a funny little guy" kind of way. It'll be fun to hear the range on how he's performed.

[liamloveslarry]

.

#what if lt2 and hs3 and both reminiscent of the past year #they've had so much down time it's hard not to think about what they've been able to do together #finally getting some peace and taking things slow #i guess during the periods nobody saw them #i'd like to think they've been able to spend more time together #and that maybe it's reflected in their writing over the past 12 months #their previous albums dealt a lot with self acceptance i guess #and finding your feet again after such a long time of someone else pulling the strings #maybe we'll get a glimpse of how it feels to write when they're properly together #maybe it'll allude to more dancing in the kitchen with your love #being able to dote on each other freely and apologetically #we know louis has been writing #obv harry has had time filming #idk just thinking thoughts #sounds cheesy but they love each other without bounds #it literally knows no limits #so in short their next albums are going to KO me

[luveline]

a special friend, part two [Fred Weasley, George Weasley x reader]

tags: reader-insert, platonic relationships, friendship, can be read as romantic for either or both, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, implied/referenced self-harm, dissociation, quiet reader, shy reader, sad reader

relationships: fred weasley x reader, george weasley x reader

wordcount: 3.2k

read part one here

The common room was always so clean. The house-elves must work themselves half to death with effort, as you never saw a hair or speck of dust where there ought not to be one. The small refreshment table filled and refilled through every new day and the fireplace was always roaring on cold winter nights. It was especially cold that evening, and so the members of Gryffindor house benefited from a crackling fire and hot chocolate coming out of the ears.

You basked in the warmth of the flame, sitting cross-legged before it. A cup of hot chocolate cooled in between your hands, which were both laden with bandaids and germolene. Fred and George’s orders, of course. You were not to scratch, bite or mess in any detrimental way with your hands, arms or skin. If you did, you were to report to them for immediate bandaging.

At first, they’d simply been spelling each wound away. This had an opposite effect, as the freshly healed skin was perfect for picking whenever your mood turned - which was often. You found yourself blinded and basked in the light of being cared for by others, and although you may have preferred complete autonomy over your own body, you couldn’t say you minded the attentiveness of the twins. They’d made it their personal mission to prevent any self-harm, accidental or purposeful. You weren’t sure you even knew the difference half the time.

A quiet had settled over the room. It seemed as though each red and gold student was content to breathe in the smell of chestnut and pine in peaceful, companionable silence. You found yourself smiling kindly at each person who looked your way. You couldn’t imagine having done that before you had become acquainted with the twins.

Acquainted was a word you used to protect yourself. Friendly was too confident, too firm. You sometimes dreamt of horror stories where you, confident and comfortable, admitted how much you cared for them. In these dreams, they laughed in your face. Poked fun at your hope.

Of course, Fred and George weren’t cruel. If they felt that way, they certainly wouldn’t rub it in your face or make you feel embarrassed about it. But some shame never went away, and you carried it like an ever-burning torch.

Despite the pleasant warmth of the room, chills racked your spine at the thought. You pushed it from your head, attempting to think of anything else. You traced a pattern through the braided strands of the rug you were lazing upon, first the flames of a bonfire towering ten feet tall, then a mirror of the powdered sugar landscape outside.

Two warm bodies settled in the carpet on either side of you. A long arm wrapped around your shoulders confidently. The floral scent of your perfume mingled with the strong scent of burning caramel and something woody, the signature fragrance of the Weasley twins.

George moved first, plonking a stuffed toy into your lap. He positioned the neck carefully so that the teddy bear was sat as comfortable as you were.

“For you,” said Fred.

“An early Christmas gift,” George added.

The bear was spotted unusually like some sort of hybrid creature. You wondered where they could possibly have acquired such an artefact.

“We saw him and thought of you,” they said together.

That was rich. And maybe correct. After all, it was a weird looking plushie and you weren’t exactly renowned for your normality. You didn’t say much, simply handing off your cold drink to George without so much as a sideways glance and brought the bear to your face. You grazed your nose against its brown stomach and inhaled, breathing in its clean scent.

Both twins were used to the general quietness that came with your presence and didn’t pressure any response. You knew you should’ve said thank you, or even smiled gratefully, but you just couldn’t make your mouth move the way you wanted. You placed your hand on each brothers leg and applied the barest amount of pressure, hoping it showed gratitude.

“Well, I’m starving.”

“I’m so glad you said so, my brother.”

“Yes, I’m craving something savory, Gred.”

“Something juicy, Forge.”

“Such as?”

You looked between them like a muggle attending a tennis match, back and forth and back and forth. They ran circles around you for their own enjoyment, you assumed, but maybe also to make you feel more included.

“Y/N, fancy a trek to the kitchens?”

Before you could say no, or yes, or make up your mind and decide what it was you wanted to do, your stomach growled. Fred grinned wickedly.

They ushered you out of the portrait hole and down the stairs without preamble, flanking your sides like bodyguards. You didn’t mind, taking time to smile at the castle ghosts and portraits as you went.

The twins shot each other looks when they thought you couldn’t see. One said, how do you think she is? Another said, I think she’s however you think she is. Both said, she seems okay today.

It would feel a little patronizing if it weren’t so foreign - to have people care about your well-being so deeply they made changes to their day to see you and went out of their way to make you feel good; you’d find it condescending if it wasn’t so delightful.

That is to say, you felt conflicted. Happy that somebody cared, ashamed that they also felt concerned. They worried over everything these days, what you ate and what classes you had and oh, ghostie, do you need help with that? Y/N, sweetheart, let me carry that for you, lest your arms grow too tired.

It was… nice. It was nice, even if it was painful. Sometimes, it reminded you why you didn’t allow yourself the pleasure of friendship in the first place.

You hummed to yourself. Making sound had become a little easier. You weren’t inclined to say a whole lot, but allowing yourself to be louder, to take up space, had come easier the longer you spent with them. Neither Fred nor George minded if you huffed after too many stairs or if you clicked gobstones together at the foot of their beds.

The song was one of those cheesy Christmas numbers you’d heard on the radio. It was warm and comforting, bringing tears to your eyes if you thought about it too much. George slipped into song with you easily, humming much more loudly and obnoxiously. Fred just grinned to himself, keeping dutiful watch of the corridors.

You bubbled like a shaken can of coke by the time you arrived at the painting that enclosed the kitchen doorway, feeling too happy for your own good. Despite feeling very hungry, not a lick of fatigue or unhappiness tinged your mood, though the fuzzy numbness of every day threatened your well-being if you stopped to think too long.

The door swung open obediently after your half-hearted tickle insisted upon by the boys.

“What do you feel like, Y/N, sweet or savoury? There’s bound to be something you’ll fancy,” George said.

You held in a grimace. There were lots of things you wanted to try, the kitchens smelled like so many amazing things. The cloying smells of jam and treacle and custard, the hearty scents of gravy and roast dinner. It was too bad, then, that most everything you ate tasted stale. For years, your tastebuds had been slacking. During your worst days, food held no taste at all, resulting in your decreased appetite.

A tingling began in your fingers. You didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, how to convey that you didn’t really feel up to anything at all. You knew they would protest as they always did when you didn’t eat.

“Bread,” you managed. Bread was a safe choice. Dense enough to feel filling, easy to keep down, and bland to begin with.

Both boys were frowning but trying not to at your choice.

George moved forward, catching the attention of a harrowed looking house elf. They conversed with familiarity and soon you were being beckoned to a table that was relatively clear. Within minutes you were surrounded by bread, crusty rolls and sliced sourdough.

George casually nudged a bowl of tomato soup in your direction.

The surface shined with grease. It even had a swirl of cream and a sprig of basil afloat.

He looked at you, eyes pleading.

“You too,” you said.

This appeased him. The boys sat across from you with their own bowls, eating in the horrific way that teenage boys do. By the time they’d finished, you’d managed half of your own meal and two slices of bread. The nausea you experienced from just existing was starting to build, accompanied by the disappointment of your bland meal. You’d hoped an improved mood would help your appetite, but you still felt unsatisfied.

The boys grabbed a passing plate of tarts and ice cream.

Your good mood was wearing thin. You bit down on the tip of your thumb and stared at the grain of the table.

You bit down harder.

“Hey. Hey! Don’t do that,” Fred said, reaching forward as if to grab your hand. You pushed it under the table.

George pushed the plate of confectionary closer to you. “Chew on one of these instead, hm?”

You took it all back - this was patronising. Lovely and thoughtful and very, excruciatingly patronising.

You didn’t want to say no, or push it away, or eat anything else or even laugh it off. You wanted to do nothing. You lay your head down on the table, closing your eyes. You caught a murmur or two between them, though you couldn’t make out the words with your ear pressed so hard against the wood and the other covered by your falling hair. The table was smooth and cool under your skin.

A chair scraped against the floor. Footsteps. A broad hand against your back.

“You’re like a steam train running out of coal sometimes.”

You knew he was hoping for a response, a joke, a sign you’d been cheered up.

Through slow blinks, you could make out his face. Endlessly amused and a little sad, framed by the candlelight. He was beautiful, you thought absently. They were both beautiful.

“You okay?” he said quietly.

“Mm,”

“Mm? Is mm a yes or a no?”

“Mm,”

“Alright,” he said, rubbing a soothing path up between your shoulder blades and down again. It would’ve been dizzying if you could think straight, it made the numbness a little woozy. You preened beneath his touch like a pleased cat, feeling the unhappiness melt just a little.

It was crazy how affection could make you feel better, even if it didn’t always solve the problem.

Embarrassed, you mumbled, “you’re going to kill me.”

Fred smiled. “How so?”

“You’re fattening me up like a lamb to slaughter.”

He didn’t quite laugh, huffing through his nose. He really was very handsome up close. His hair was curling at just below his ears, a lush auburn colour that complemented his pale, freckle adorned skin. His eyes were a heart-melting brown so that his pupils were lost. The look he gave you was searing like he knew exactly what you were thinking about him. Your ears were tinged with heat, cheeks filling with colour.

He retracted his hand.

“Wrap some of those up, Georgie. Ghostie needs her bed.”

“It shall be done, brother mine!”

You smiled despite yourself.

-

For your birthday, the twins had gifted you a simple necklace. The chain was silver, reaching to just below your collar bone. It had no charm or jewel. It was perfect.

It helped you sometimes when you felt out of it to run it between two fingers or tug it gently from left to right, feeling the chain links rolling behind your neck.

You’d tried that, among every other coping mechanism drilled into your head by George and Fred over the past few weeks. You drew circles were you wanted to scratch, put plasters over fingertips you wanted to pick at. You took big breaths and did the stretches George insisted on. You even tried getting a full night’s sleep - nothing worked.

It filled you with guilt. You felt as though you were letting them both down by struggling.

You stared out the window of the dormitory at the sky, moonlight spilling onto your skin and staining your clothes a gauzy silver. You’d read once that sometimes when the planets were in rotation, you could see them as though they were as close as the moon.

This didn’t seem right to you. How could Mars seem so close? It was an optical illusion. The planets revolved around the sun, but humans had once thought they revolved around Earth instead.

It must’ve been a very strange experience to realise you weren’t as important as you thought. The Earth was just the Earth, spinning and wobbling its path through space.

You shook your head, feeling lost. It was ridiculous to project your feelings on the solar system. But still, you couldn’t help but feel like, despite its inhabitants and its systems, the Earth was so lonely.

Your necklace began to grow cold until it was almost like ice against your skin. One of the twins, or maybe both, had charmed it to change temperature. Cold usually meant, ‘Ghostie, you awake?’

You cringed against the sensation. Why couldn’t they booty call you like normal young men, throwing stones at your window with a boom box? Or, for merlin’s sake, an owl?

You grumbled to yourself, throwing the fleece blanket from your body. You were hardly dressed for company in knickers and a tank top, so you threw on a grey zip-up jacket and a pair of pyjama shorts that were hardly any better than the knickers. Luckily the jacket hung past the shorts. You wanted to care that you were dressed scantily, really, but the boys wouldn’t care and you didn’t have it in you to find something else.

You trekked down the stairs, your trainer socks slippery against the well-worn wood. Fred stretched languidly in front of the fireplace, a pack of exploding snap cards and a mountain of chocolate frogs beside him whilst George was sitting much more straight-backed on the sofa.

“I’m cold,” you said, announcing your arrival. The redheads turned to look at you over their shoulders. Fred rolled his eyes at you and flicked his wand. The necklace slowly heated until it was pleasantly warm against your collarbones.

You clambered over the back of the sofa with little grace, folding your knees underneath you and leaning heavily against George’s arm. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“If I were a lesser man, I’d ask where your bottoms were, Y/L/N,” said Fred, shuffling the cards dexterously.

You raised your jacket wordlessly, exposing your bottoms.

“Wouldn’t you know, they were there the whole time.”

“You assumed the same as me, George.”

George didn’t reply, though his expression said he was similarly embarrassed.

“And do you always let girls you presume to be half-naked climb all over you?” you asked.

“So talkative,” George chastened.

“Don’t change the subject! I’m interested in the answer,” said Fred.

“Oh shove off! You insufferable tyrants.”

Ah, so he knows how it feels now, you thought. You looked up into his face, the line of his jaw.

You looked down at your legs, feeling fatigued. Smooth stretches of skin and fine hair interrupted only by thin white lines. The low light made them almost impossible to see. They shined like silver when you moved, caught by the light of a nearby candle. They felt a lifetime away now when a young you had used pins and quills and little carving knives to punish yourself for bad behaviour.

You traced a slightly thicker one with a pointed fingernail. You pushed it nastily into the scar, but it didn’t hurt.

You sighed.

Fred and George were half arguing about something you didn’t catch, Fred through a mouthful of chocolate.

It was hard, always being miserable. People often criticized the moody for ruining the mood, but it wasn’t as if you could choose how to be. You wanted to wake each day and be happy and entertaining and absurdly good-natured, like the twins. It was an abject cruelty, then, that every day you woke up and felt the immeasurable dread of continuing on another day. Not even magic could help you with that.

You rejected Fred’s offer to play, happy to sit and watch the boys play. You let yourself slide into the space George had vacated, curling into a tight ball. Your stomach hurt.

Godric, there was always something fucking wrong with you.

You were frustrated. The boys could tell. Their game of snap was stretched thin, and you knew it was your fault. You wrinkled your nose at the smell of singed hair, restless. You squirmed against the warm leather under your skin, feeling sticky and out of sorts.

You closed your eyes against the aching and slept.

You woke up crying.

Fred shifted in his sleep. He was leaning against your legs, his hair and face smushed into the leather beneath you. George was facedown in the carpet. You pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle any sound.

The clock on the wall read 4 minutes past 4 o’clock in the morning. You’d only managed an hour and a half of sleep.

You couldn’t remember what you’d been dreaming. Maybe somewhere familiar. Faces you recognized. It didn’t matter, only the feeling of being crushed by the air. You reached out without thinking, grabbing Fred’s shoulder.

He roused gracelessly, blinking through squinted eyes at you. A hard sob rocked you to the core, the feeling of breathlessness sinking deep into your chest.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

You couldn’t answer. You grasped for his arm, begging him to do something, to save you. You felt as though you were going to run out of air.

“Hey, you’re alright. You’re okay. Let’s breathe, should we? Breathe with me.” He grabbed the hand you’d pushed over your mouth and brought it to his chest. You could feel him take a huge inhale and you tried your best to replicate it.

“Good! That’s good. You’re doing so well.” Another big breath, a long exhale.

“You feel that? The leather under you.” He grabbed your free hand and put it on the seat. “Feels weird, huh? Dimples and wrinkles.” He dragged your hand over the texture repeatedly.

A big breath.

Eventually, your breathing returned. The crying stayed.

“Don’t cry, ghost.”

You frowned. It was odd to be looking down at Fred instead of up. He pressed your hand tighter to his chest.

“Bad dream?”

“Don’t remember,” you whispered.

“It was just a dream. You’re okay. I promise.”

George snored. Fred rolled his eyes. You laughed through the tears, blinking the last of them away.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll be here.”

You knew he was telling the truth.

#Fred Weasley #George weasley #hurt/comfort #fred Weasley x reader #George weasley x reader #reader #x reader #reader insert #sad reader #sad!reader #self harm #implied referenced self harm #trigger warning for self harm #panic attacks #reader has mental health issues #anxiety attack #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins #Harry Potter imagine #Shy reader #partially mute reader #Quiet reader #friendship #platonic #or romantic #it’s basically upto you #fredweasleyxreader #Hogwarts

[idy-ll-ique]

unlike any other

pairing: mob boss!bucky barnes x maid!f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut (AH THE HOLY TRINITY)

warnings: mention of blood, mention of wounds,,,,,,,,, sex (but only a lil bit)

requested: nope

word count: 1.8k

summary: bucky barnes, among many things, owns a strip club. y/n works there as a maid, but she has only recently joined so she has no idea who he is. one day, she catches him napping in one of the private rooms after closing time and, not knowing that he owns the place, asks him to leave because it's a "staff only" room. mesmerized by her, he leaves without a word but a few days later, she finds out who he truly is. sparks fly? sparks fly.

author's note: hiya peeps! enjoy!

masterlist

---

James Barnes was tired.

All he wanted to do was go home and get a good night's sleep, but this moron in front of him was proving it to be very difficult. "What aren't you getting about my plan, Johnson?" he growled, a deep glare etched on his face as he disdainfully stared at one of the men who worked for him. "Why are we doing this at all?" Oh, Johnson has quite the mouth on him, can't wait to break all his fucking teeth.

"Are you the boss or am I?" Bucky countered, putting his arms up, exasperated. Johnson was about to reply when Bucky decided he was too tired to deal with him at all. "You know what, how about we talk tomorrow, hm? Leave, now." With an audacious huff, Johnson got up and left the room. As soon as he was gone Bucky groaned loudly.

"That man," he muttered to himself, "Is a fucking idiot. I'm gonna have to talk to Sam tomorrow, why did he even suggest—" Bucky then relaxed back onto the couch he was sitting on, leaning further and further back until he was simply lying down, head resting on the armrest.

James Barnes was tired.

And he needed a fucking nap.

James Buchanan Barnes. He commonly went by the name Bucky, and he ran the biggest, most affluent mob in the city. Currently, he was at a strip club that he owned, which also had private rooms for… basically hooking up, but he never used it for that, using it only to hold meetings with potential allies or his men.

He dozed off on the couch but was able to sleep for only about 30-45 minutes before someone was shaking him awake.

---

“Phew, last room! Why does this place have so many rooms?” Y/N grumbled to herself, opening the door to the private room. She was a maid recently hired by the club, and her job was to clean up all the private rooms after the closing time. They paid her well so she didn’t mind doing the job. When she opened the door, though, she noticed a man sleeping on the couch.

All his clothes were still intact and his hair was also done nicely… She scrutinized him for a while longer, taking note of his handsome, chiselled features and how he dripped of power even when he was asleep. Finally, a few minutes later, she decided to wake him up. However powerful he might seem, the rooms after closing were for staff only and he needed to leave.

“Excuse me, sir?” Y/N gently shook his shoulders, startling him awake. He blinked his eyes open and in his hazy state of mind, he thought there was an angel standing above him. “What?” he yawned and Y/N offered him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, you gotta go, the club is closed for the night and this is a staff-only room,” she told him and he blinked.

She didn’t know him? “I, uh, yeah, I’m sorry,” he complied, sitting up. He took in her appearance as well; she was wearing a cheesy maid’s costume that fit the aesthetic of the strip club perfectly, yet there was a sort of innocence to her, the kind that would make even the most cold-hearted and powerful of them all want to cater to her every whim without question.

“Uh… see ya around,” she raised her eyebrows and Bucky offered her a quick smile, getting out of the room. “Behaving like he owns the place,” Y/N scoffed to herself as she began cleaning up the mess in the room starting with the empty alcohol bottles. She couldn’t stay mad at him for long, though- his handsome face could make anyone’s heart melt. As the thought passed through her head, a small smile bloomed on her face.

Oh stranger, I really hope we meet again soon.

As Bucky drove home, he, too, thought of the maid. Who was she? Why had he never seen her before? And why didn’t she know him? That night, as he went to bed for the second time, all he saw in his dreams was a lovely maid’s costume and a pretty, pearly white smile.

---

“I’m firing that guy,” Bucky told Sam determinedly. A few days had passed since Bucky’s meeting with Johnson and he was more determined than ever to get rid of the guy. Something about Johnson seemed off. “Wh- You hired that guy like a week ago, what happened? He used to work with Pierce and Rumlow before, he can give us valuable intel-”

“What if he never stopped?” Sam quieted at the retort. “He told us how horribly they treated their own men,” Sam answered a little while later. “What if he’s lying?” Bucky asked impatiently. “Give him a chance-” Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Bucky sighed and Johnson poked his head in. “Got a minute, boss?”

“Oh sure, come in, we were just discussing you! Have a seat!” Sam raised an eyebrow at Bucky’s sudden cheerfulness as Johnson happily bounded into the room, plopping down on the couch. “What were you discussing?” he questioned. “How I was just about to fire you,” Bucky smirked and Johnson’s face fell.

He didn’t speak for a few minutes, causing Sam and Bucky to glance at each other. “Hello…?” All of a sudden Johnson stood up with a fit of rage. “Damn it, Barnes, you ruin everything!” Bucky shouted triumphantly as Sam gasped. “I knew you were a fucking two-timer, you son of a bitch!” Bucky yelled at him. “And you made it so easy!” Johnson laughed dryly.

“Why you-” Bucky swung a punch at Johnson’s face, breaking his nose. “What have you told Pierce?!” Johnson retaliated right back by kicking his knee into Bucky’s abdomen, making him fall back. A fight soon broke out between all three of them, so loud that the commotion could be heard from outside.

Approximately 20 minutes later Y/N, who was passing by the room at the time, heard the loud noise and stopped in her tracks. It sounded like… two people fighting. It wasn’t her cleaning time yet, but she still rushed to the door, opening it up with such force that the door loudly banged on the other side. At this, the fight instantly halted.

Bucky was holding an unconscious Johnson by the collar, his fist an inch away from Johnson’s jaw. Both of them looked pretty beaten up, with blood all over their faces and clothes. Sam, meanwhile, was half-lying on the couch, clutching the side of his abdomen with a pained look on his face. Y/N’s hands flew to her mouth at the sight of them.

That was when she recognized the man from a few days ago. Oh shit, he does own the place. Bucky immediately got up and dusted his suit, staring down at a passed-out Johnson with a sneer. “Sam, take him to Wanda, she’ll know what to do with him. And please, for the love of God, go to the hospital.” With the help of a few others, Sam and Johnson left.

It was only Bucky and Y/N in the room now. She continued staring at his face in horror and Bucky chuckled, wiping away a trail of blood near his lips. “That bad?” She snapped out of her trance. “You…” Bucky gave her a wry smile. “Bucky Barnes at your service. And you are?” Y/N blinked a few times before answering. “Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky looked around.

“Well, Y/N, if you’d be so kind as to fetch me a first aid kit.” She instantly walked out of the room and got the first aid kit for him. When she returned to the room, Bucky was sitting on the couch, his jacket and shirt removed. Even his torso was covered in black and blue bruises. "It looks bad," she blurted out.

"Will you help me clean up?" Y/N couldn't deny him. He was her boss, after all. She sat down next to him and wordlessly started cleaning the blood off his face. He didn't so much as flinch, which Y/N found to be extremely impressive. After all the blood was cleaned, Y/N grimaced when she saw his broken nose. "Your, um, your nose…" Bucky easily grabbed his nose in both hands and clicked it into place.

Y/N flinched badly at the action, making Bucky laugh. "Come on, princess, it's not that difficult," he teased her and she shook her head, a smile blooming on her face. "So, um, I'm sorry about that day," she mumbled as Bucky kept the first aid kit away. "Sorry? For doing your job? Don't do that."

She looked up at him. "No, I- I should've known it was you, and I just… maybe I could've been more polite-"

"Sorry, you gotta go, the club is closed for the night and this is a staff-only room," Bucky quoted verbatim, "You couldn't have been more polite." Y/N's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she shuffled her feet. "Please don't fire me," she whispered under her breath, yet Bucky managed to hear her. And when an opportunity presents itself…

"On one condition."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed and nodded excitedly. "Anything you want." Bucky smirked and sat back down next to her, placing his hand on her bare thigh. "Go on a date with me," he breathed out, leaning close to her. Y/N's breath and heart rate hitched at his forwardness, but she didn't have the will to deny him.

He was good-looking, he was rich, he was polite, why not give it a try? Y/N offered him a small smile. "Um, okay, I'd like that a lot," she agreed truthfully and Bucky grinned, pressing his lips to hers without wasting a moment. Y/N kissed him back, cupping his face with her hands.

In the heat of the moment, Bucky bent forward until the back of Y/N's head touched the armrest; still, they didn't pull away from each other. Bucky sneakily got his hand under Y/N's blouse, the skin on skin contact making them both groan. "Ugh, you really are very pretty, you know?" Bucky whispered as he unbuttoned her blouse and threw it away.

He stared in awe at her bra-covered breasts, his shaft twitching impatiently. But, just as he was about to unbuckle her bra, the door swung open. Bucky immediately hid Y/N under him and looked up at a horror-struck Sam, who ran out of the room screaming, "At least lock the door next time, asshole!"

Y/N giggled when she saw Bucky's flustered face. "He's right, you know," she whispered cheekily and Bucky playfully narrowed his eyes at her, attacking her neck with kisses and love bites.

"Talk to me like that again and you'll be in for a long night, pretty face."

"Oh, I'd like to see you try, boss."

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed it!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky barnes #maid!reader #winter soldier #mob au #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Lena let out an undignified squeak as she grabbed hold of the bookshelf beside her in an effort to not land on her face.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Lena turned, wiggling her foot back into her heels properly, before freezing, eyes widening at the caped figure now scrambling to her feet.

An array of books and magazines were spread out on the floor, presumably the culprit of her latest near death experience. It was as though National City’s newly revealed superhero had been sitting in between the bookshelves on the library floor… studying?

Lena clutched the cheesy romance novel she had been too busy reading to her chest as Supergirl looked at her in concern.

“Miss?”

Lena’s brain finally restarted and she cleared her throat, straightening her blazer. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Supergirl was wringing the edge of her cape in her fingers, looking far too nervous for someone who was suspected to be the strongest being on Earth by several sapphic blogs that Lena most definitely did not read.

“I’m fine.” She reached out to put a hand on Supergirl’s forearm in an impulse comfort gesture. “I promise.”

Supergirl seemed to relax slightly, some of the tension seeping from her shoulders. She held out a hand. “I’m Kara.”

Any tension that had left her immediately returned tenfold, eyes widening in panic as she froze.

Lena bit back a smile and took Kara’s hand, shaking it despite Kara’s lack of movement. “Lena. And don’t worry - your secret’s safe with me.”

Kara deflated, running a hand through her hair. “Alex is going to kill me.”

Lena laughed and patted Kara’s bicep (definitely the strongest being on Earth). “Maybe you should stop saying names now.”

Kara grimaced. “Oops.” She looked like she was about to say something else but stopped and looked at Lena again. “Wait… are you Lena Luthor?”

Lena straightened up, careful mask falling into place to try to hide the way her heart sped up and her throat constricted. “Yes.”

But before she could launch into her speech about how she was different from the rest of her family and only wanted to help, Kara lit up, crouching down to shuffle through her piles of literature until she came up with an issue of a science magazine from a few years ago.

“I just read your article about sustainable building and how we can introduce cost-effective eco-friendly measures to construction to reduce the damage done to the environment and promote a symbiotic relationship with nature.”

Lena blinked.

Kara almost poked herself in the eye before redirecting the movement to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I just thought it was really interesting. You’re probably tired of people asking you about your work.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “No I… I don’t mind.”

Kara smiled and Lena found her heart racing for an entirely different reason. She redirected her attention to the books scattered on the floor.

“So what’s National City’s resident superhero doing studying civil engineering, first aid and… veterinary science on the floor of the library?”

Kara blushed and knelt down to start scooping up all her things. “Sorry - I know I should have been at a desk I just got carried away.”

The pile of books was up to Kara’s eyebrows when she stood up and Lena laughed, taking the top third of them from her. “And I shouldn’t have been reading and walking. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Supergirl shrugged, toeing at the worn carpet with her red boots. “I’m new at the whole superhero thing. I don’t know where to freeze breath a building to hold it up or how to save someone who’s got water in their lungs from almost drowning. The other day I rescued a snake from a tree and tried to wrap it up in my cape to keep it warm and the owner told me ‘thanks, but reptiles are cold-blooded so they don’t warm up like that.’” She pouted at Lena. “The owner was a ten year old.”

Lena bit back a smile. “So you’re trying to learn how to be a better superhero?”

She shrugged and bit her lip. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

Lena considered her for a moment. “You know, I happen to have degrees in a few different kinds of engineering. And I made everyone at L-corp, including myself, take a first aid course when I took over.”

Kara looked as though she was trying to contain her hopeful expression. It wasn’t working very well, although that probably wasn’t surprising since her motto was ‘hope, help, and compassion for all.’

Kara bounced on her toes excitedly. “Would you help?”

Lena grinned and gestured to the left with her head. “Come on, I know which desk is the best in the library.”

———

It became somewhat of a routine after that. Every Saturday, Lena would go to the library as normal, pick out a new cheesy romance novel for the week and some kind of thick science book to hide it underneath, and then meet Supergirl in the back corner of the library, at the desk hidden behind the spare computers from the 90s where no one would find them.

Kara would normally already be there, pouring over texts and making notes in coloured pens and highlighters. Lena had bought her a rainbow of folders and dividers for each of the aspects of superheroing she was trying to improve in, and they had spent one very unproductive but fun day labelling and decorating them. They were now covered in random doodles, squiggly multicoloured patterns, and stickers that Kara had found in a rotating rack by the front desk, immediately claiming were essential for her learning.

During the week, Lena would keep an eye on any news of Supergirl, getting some strange looks from Jess when she walked into her office to see Lena cheering as Kara did something they’d worked on together. At the weekend she would listen to Kara excitedly retell those same events until the librarian came over to shush them. She seemed to be the only person in National city that wasn’t completely charmed by Supergirl, and it always led to half an hour of Kara pouting and asking Lena why the librarian didn’t like her.

It was a few weeks before Lena got there first. She frowned, checking the surrounding isles of books for any caped figures but they were all empty as usual.

She sat at their desk and opened up the book she had randomly grabbed off a shelf, putting her latest romance novel inside it to covertly read. It was called ‘Lost and Found: A Love Story’, the back of it claiming it was about a woman who ‘drops her scarf at a train station but ends up finding something much more meaningful in the woman she bumps into at the lost and found.’ It was exactly as awful as it sounded.

Kara bounded up to the table about 20 minutes later, a coffee cup in each hand and a satchel slung over her shoulder that made her cape bunch up awkwardly. She beamed at Lena and set a coffee down in front of her.

“Guess what I just did.”

Lena slammed the books shut inside each other, scrambling to put her arms over them and rest her chin in her hand casually. “What?”

Kara either didn’t notice or didn’t care, rounding the desk and putting her bag down on it with a grin. “I laservisioned the supports of a broken crane back together using some metal from a billboard and now it’s totally fine for use again.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “What happened to the crane in the first place?”

Kara’s cheeks heated and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck as she mumbled, “I may have flown into it a little bit.”

She scowled at Lena as Lena started laughing but it was undermined by the way her lips tugged up.

“Oh!” Kara lit up and started rifling through her bag. “I brought you this.”

She held out a book with a bright smile. Lena’s eyes widened as she looked down at the cover of what was very clearly another cheesy romance.

“It’s my favourite love story. It’s a bit like the one you’re reading at the moment but better, in my opinion. I thought you might like it.”

“What?” Lena scoffed. “I wasn’t reading a romance. I was reading…” she glanced over to check what book she had picked up, internally filling with regret as she read the title, but she had already committed to the facade. “The rhyming dictionary.”

Kara was very clearly trying not to laugh. “Ok. Well I’ll just leave this one here. And in case you didn’t know,” she leaned closer to Lena’s ear as she climbed into her seat, and whispered, “I have x-ray vision.”

Lena blushed, refusing to look at Kara’s smug grin. She cleared her throat and moved her books off to the side, along with the one Kara had put down, as casually as possible, and attempted to change the subject.

“So you remembered about weight distribution in support structures?”

Kara paused in taking folders and notes out her bag to turn to Lena excitedly, rambling on about her save, gesturing wildly with her hands.

Lena picked up her coffee as she listened with a soft smile, absentmindedly taking a sip.

She frowned down at the cup. “Is this my usual?”

Kara paused in her rambling. “Yeah. Does it not taste right?”

Lena shook her head, staring back down at her perfect coffee, cheeks heating at the heart drawn in latte art that Kara probably didn’t even have anything to do with. “No I just… I didn’t know you knew my order.”

Kara grinned, raising an eyebrow (Lena should never have taught her how to do that). “Perhaps you’re not as elusive as you think, Lena Luthor.”

———

Lena arrived at the library one Saturday to find Supergirl staring at the front doors like she might set light to them any moment.

“What’s wrong Supergirl? Lose a fight with a door handle?”

Kara turned to her with a pout, pointing at a sign hanging on the other side of the glass. It read ‘Library closed until 23rd due to water damage. Apologies for the inconvenience.’

Lena sighed.

“Where am I going to get my books for this week, Lena? I’m never going to understand civil engineering without them.”

Lena bit the inside of her cheek, the rational part of her brain at war with the part that was helpless to the superhero’s pout. It had to be one of her superpowers because Lena would never admit she was actually soft.

She tore her gaze away, trying to seem casual. “I actually have some engineering textbooks at my apartment. I guess you could borrow them if you wanted.”

Lena squeaked as Supergirl crushed her in a bear hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Lena laughed, trying to turn it inconspicuously into a cough when a passerby gave a slightly shocked and confused look at the sight of a Luthor and a Super laughing on the library steps. Kara dropped her back to her feet, stepping back with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I got excited.”

Lena shook her head with a smile. She turned to go but as she went to gesture for Kara to follow, her hand caught against Kara’s. Her brain misfired and decided in the split second where her index finger hooked onto Kara’s pinkie that the best course of action was to commit to it and simply hold hands. In an attempt to make it seem less affectionate and more practical, she walked off quickly, dragging Kara along in the direction of her apartment.

She could feel Kara’s smile like rays of sun behind her. At least her hair was down to cover up the heat that was creeping up the back of her neck.

Her apartment was only a few minutes from the library. She had to slap Kara’s hand away from the elevator buttons before she pressed them all, marveling at how many floors there were.

“So this is where you live?” Kara looked around the hallway, panicking when she snapped a leaf off of a decorative plant, while Lena unlocked the penthouse door.

Lena pretended not to see her discreetly dropping the leaf into the plant pot but raised an eyebrow at her. “No, Supergirl. I just decided we should come and stare at this random person’s door.”

Kara ignored her, walking past into her apartment and looking down at the city below through the large floor to ceiling windows. “Nice view. I should take you flying sometime - it’s even better from up in the clouds, especially at night.”

Lena closed the front door, trying not to think about romantic flights and being cradled in strong arms. “I’ll go get the textbooks.”

She moved towards her home office, Kara trailing behind in interest. The engineering textbooks were over in the left corner and she scanned the alphabetised section for the ones she wanted.

Kara ran her fingers over the spines of books until Lena was done. She smirked at Lena, letting her hand trail teasingly down the bookshelf before she left. Lena blushed as she realised why. Kara had found her fiction section, over half the books in which were very clearly a certain genre.

Lena groaned and followed her out.

They spent the entire afternoon on the floor around Lena’s coffee table, going through the textbooks, laughing over Kara’s constant puns, and eating the seemingly endless supply of snacks Kara produced from her bag. It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that Lena realised how long they’d spent simply telling jokes and stories.

It was alarmingly easy to just be around Kara. Strangely, Lena didn’t think she minded.

———

Lena frowned as someone knocked on her door. It was a Saturday morning and she was just about to leave to meet Supergirl at the library.

She only grew more confused as she opened the door to see a fluffy white cloud panting happily at her and squirming in her direction. A head poked out from behind it, looking just as happy.

“Lena, hi! Sorry to just turn up but the mean librarian lady threw me out because apparently you aren’t allowed to play fetch in the library.”

Lena stared at the woman currently holding a large puppy in front of her, familiar blonde curls pinned back and glasses slipping down her nose. “…Kara?”

Kara blinked at her for a moment before she seemed to realise. “Oh! Right. Sorry - this is what I look like normally. When I’m not being Supergirl I mean. Alex said I wasn’t allowed to wear the suit all the time because it had to be washed.”

Lena nodded slowly, trying to reconcile the image of this Kara with Supergirl and to not think too hard about the implications of Kara being comfortable enough around her to show her her civilian identity. “Right. Why do you have a dog?”

Kara lit up. “I saved an animal shelter from a fire and they let me adopt this guy. Isn’t he adorable?”

Lena looked at the matching faces of excitement. “Very cute. But why is he here?”

Kara shrugged. “Well I couldn’t leave him after I’d just adopted him so I thought he could join us for our study session?”

Lena crossed her arms and Kara pouted. It was somewhat undermined by the puppy licking her face and making her giggle but Lena was still helpless to resist.

“Ok but he better not mess up any of my stuff.”

“Yes!” Kara grinned, wiggling the puppy excitedly, his ears flopping about.

Kara kissed her cheek on her way into the apartment and Lena’s heart skipped a beat. The puppy licked her in an attempt to join in but even that didn’t stop the way her heart raced.

They settled on the couch, facing each other as Lena quizzed Kara with flashcards. The puppy alternated between curling up in Kara’s lap and zooming around Lena’s living room, falling over his own paws.

“Ok, last one. How do you treat a sprain?”

“Ice it with my freezebreath, wrap it so it’s compressed but not cutting off circulation, keep it elevated.”

Lena grinned proudly. “That’s it! Done.”

Kara threw her hands in the air in delight, squealing as she propelled herself forwards to tackle Lena to the couch. She pulled back just as quickly, pushing up to brace herself over Lena.

“Sorry. I got excited.”

All the breath had deserted Lena’s lungs and she stared up at Kara. A light flush rose on Kara’s cheeks, pale pink against the deep blue of her eyes, bringing out the freckles that dusted her skin.

The flashcards slipped from Lena’s grasp as she surged up to meet Kara’s lips. Kara’s arms almost buckled but she caught herself. And then she was kissing back.

Lena’s hands slid up Kara’s back, practically pulling Kara down on top of her.

They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart, eyes closed and foreheads rested together.

Kara was smiling softly down at her when she finally opened her eyes. She had shifted to hold herself up on one hand and one elbow, her free hand gently stroking back Lena’s hair.

She looked like she was about to say something when she did a double take over the armrest of the couch behind Lena and her soft look turned into a wince. “What was it you said about the puppy not messing up any of your stuff?”

#supercorp #you can thank AYeti for not having to read my terrible run on sentences #a ‘lotl writing

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

Hopelessly Devoted to You | R.L

Pairing: Marauders!Remus Lupin x Female Reader

Warnings: None :)

Words: 3,200

Request: @risingtripletaurus​ hi lovey! may i pretty please request a fic with the reader very much in the halloween spirit, celebrating halloween the marauders.. remus and the reader also lowkey have a crush on eachother rEMUS HOPES HE GETS ALL THE CHOCOLATE WHEN TRICK OR TREATING over all just a very fluffy time!

A/N: sorry this is so late, a lot has been happening in my personal life. I hope you enjoy! I took it in a slightly different direction that I hope you like anyway, it’s still a fluffy spooky time so I hope you enjoy. I really like this one :). I also have an idea for a part two so keep an eye out... also I know that Grease technically came out after the Marauders were at Hogwarts, I just thought it was cute anyway.

Summary: Reader and Remus are crushing hard, and what better way than an accidental couples costume and a Halloween party to get the pair together

Y/N and Sirius came bounding through the doors to the Gryffindor common room with so much force Peter grimaced as the walls shook around them. Their hands were loaded with boxes, overflowing with black and orange decorations, cheap spiders and what seems like an insane match of costumes and clothes. It wasn’t even the start of October, but whenever the season rolled around even slight, Y/N and Sirius went all out! For the pair, it seemed that they were built for the season, putting care and thought into their costumes and the treats they would make everyone; their energy infections, getting everyone else in the school hyped for the spooky season months in advance. 

Even Remus let himself loose around the Halloween season, knowing how happy it made Y/N when he would join in on the corny games that she and Sirius worked so hard to make. And he lived to make Y/N happy; to see that goofy smile that she would give him as she looked up at the lanky boy, melting his heart even more around Halloween when she would be dressed in an adorable hand made costume. 

His friends all knew, about Remus’s crush on Y/N. Honestly, it seemed that everyone in the whole school knew that the boy was smitten except Y/N, they just strolled around the castle, unaware of the boys lingering stares and wistful glances. He had a plan though, to change that. Well, Sirius and James had a plan. A plan that he wasn’t privy to despite being a leading role in it. 

Sirius dumped the box onto the couch next to James, who was prying the lid open before it even landed, to pear inside. He pulled out all sorts of different costumes, Y/N’s box joining next to it, Gryffindor written in scratchy writing on the side, full of decorations and gags to put up around the common room. 

“Sirius,” James laughs, pulling out a tight black off the shoulder top, “you’d look great in this mate but it’s a stretch to think it’ll fit you.”

Y/N rolls their eyes, taking it out of James’s hand and holding it up to their smaller frame, “it’s mine you nit.” 

Sirius comes up behind Y/N and slings an arm over her shoulder, “we’re doing a couple’s costume this year.” The pair struck a cheesy Charlie’s angels style pose as they giggle. Remus knows it’s stupid but he can’t help the hot feeling boiling in his stomach at how close Sirius and Y/N are. He knows it’s stupid, he has no reason to be jealous; Sirius knows that Remus likes Y/N, and he knows they’re just friends, but he can’t help it. He wants to be the one to make Y/N laugh, to be able to sling an arm around her without making a fool of himself, to be able to do cute couple costumes that Y/N is excited to make. 

“What are you going as?” Peter’s voice breaks Remus’s train of thought, the shorter boy hanging over the back of the couch to rummage through the box himself. He pulls out a pirate hat and an eyepatch, laughing slightly as he puts them next to him. 

“We’re going as Sandy and Danny from Grease,” Sirius says, shooting James a look that he just returns with a nod, sending me a glance as he smirks slightly. 

“I’m so excited to do it,” Y/N chimes, reaching a hand up to grab onto Sirius’s arm slightly before turning back to us with a wide smile on her face, “It’s that muggle musical I was telling you about, the one set in the 50s. We’re going as the two main characters!”

James gets up from his seat on the couch behind Y/N, walking over to the pair and placing his arms around them, “I thought you were gonna do a costume with me this year Black? We’ve been working on it for months.”

With an exaggerated hand to the forehead, Sirius lets out an exasperated sigh, “shit that’s right James, fuck I’m sorry mate. We’re gonna have to save our amazing surprise costume for next year, I promised Y/N.”

“You guys were working on a costume?” Y/N asks, looking at the boys on either side of her as they nod. Remus can tell she’s slightly upset at the thought of not doing her costume she had planned but is hiding it with her excitement at her friends getting into the holiday. “That’s so cool guys, please do it! I want to see what you guys have planned.”

“But what about your costume?”

“That’s ok,” she smiles warmly back, “I have plenty of other ideas.”

“I feel super bad now,” Sirius brings Y/N into a hug to which the girl giggles and assures him it’s ok. Over Y/N shoulder he shoots Remus a wink, the boys' eyes going wide at the thought of what his friends are up to, “say, Remus is around my size isn’t he?”

All eyes in the room turn to Remus, and he feels his face heat up at the attention, glancing down at his book, “not happening.”

“Come on mate,” Sirius and James chorus, James throwing an arm around Y/N and sarcastically patting their head, adding “you don’t wanna make little Y/N sad do you?”

“Come on guys,” Y/N chuckles, slinking away under James grasp and looking over to Remus, “he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.” James and Sirius's glare daggers over Y/N’s shoulder at the boy sitting on the couch, Peter going to say something James shutting him down with a stern look before he can even get a sound out. It seems that the boys are able to have a conversation without saying a single word, ‘dude come on don't be a baby,’ James’s look taunts, Sirius’s glare telling him to not lose his chance. 

“I-I’d love to d-do the costume with you Y/N.” Remus grimaces slightly at his nervous stuttering, grinning at Y/N as they bound over to him excitedly, thanking him as she pulls him into a hug. The boy freezes for a moment, before relaxing in the shorter girls grasp and returning the hug. The pair stood there, enjoying the small moment, for slightly longer than they probably should have; as their friends just looked on smirking and chuckling to themselves as the two teens were so obliviously in love with each other. James coughed obnoxiously, breaking the pair out of their hug as they pulled apart, faces red as they smiled shyly at each other.

“Well I think I need to get going,” Y/N smiled up at the boys, ruffling Peter’s hair slightly as she walked past him, grabbing a box labelled Hufflepuff that she had placed on the floor earlier, “those Hufflepuff’s won't help themselves.” She turns and walks towards the door to the common room, turning back to Remus to smile at him and thank him one last time before she was out the door, and once again on a mission about the castle.

The instant she was gone the common room erupted into cheers, as Sirius and James loudly hollered in excitement for Remus; Peter joining in soon after, confused as to what was happening but feeling left out that he wasn’t involved. Remus however was unamused, arms crossed in front of his chest as he glared at his friends, eyebrow raised as if daring them to speak.

The cheering stopped when Sirius and James noticed Remus’ upset attitude, Peter once again joining in and stopping, mumbling a small what’s happening to Sirius who brushed him off. “Oh come on mate,” James argued, mimicking Remus’ posture but with a smirk plastered on his face, “how are you possibly upset with us?”

Remus was gobsmacked at James’ question, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water as he looked at his friends trying to find the words to convey how stupid they were, “you lied to her that’s how! You got her hopes up when you knew you weren’t going to go with her. And you dragged me into your bullshit once again.”

“Oh come on mate, it’s not like that,” Sirius chimed in, trying to calm the tension forming. Leading Remus over to the couch he sat both of them down, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “besides, she was way more excited at you saying you’d go with her than she was when she brought it up to me in the first place.”

“That’s not true.”

“It so is,” Sirius argued back, “now stop being a fucking baby and grow some balls. It’ll be a great night.”

“If you’ll excuse me, lads,” James mutters, standing up from the seat he was on and heading towards the door, “but I need to catch Lily before she makes it to the library. Anyone joining?”

Sirius gets up and follows James, the pair out the door in an instant; and Peter, who is lagging behind, gets up to follow them, turning to Remus before he leaves, “don’t worry, it’s gonna be a wicked night.”

Remus can't help but chuckle slightly at Peter’s excitement, his head still swirling and his heart still racing, even after his friends leave.

The month was trekking on, October drawing to a close, much slower than Remus and Y/N would have liked. The closer it got to Halloween the more nervous excitement the two teens felt bubbling away. It was noticeable to their friends, as they would talk during break and pass each other in the hallway; both unbelievably ~excited and hopeful that the night would go how they want, and yet nervous. But that didn’t stop Y/N from getting in the festive spirit. She went all out this year, dragging along anyone and everyone that she could convince to help with her preparation. The whole school seemed to know that she was in a particularly festive mood this year, everyone in her year helping where they could, all the first years unbelievably excited over how amazing the castle looked.

As the talented young witch, she was, it was no surprise that Y/N was able to make some pretty amazing decorations. Pumpkins that would follow students around, glasses that made the teachers look like they were dressed up, the orange streamers and plastic spiders that would come to life when you walked past. Everyone was shocked by how all out Y/N was going this year, they knew she was talented, but not this talented. In the back of her mind though, Y/N knew she had to make this year perfect. 

Remus was confused when he walked down the corridors to potions one day, and the school seemed to be buzzing with excitement more than usual. Students everywhere were glancing around in excitement, peering over each other's shoulders to get a glimpse at the parchment they were all holding. As he walked up to potions class, surprisingly early for once, he heard a commotion behind him, and turned and saw Y/N and Sirius walking towards him, students around them clapping and patting them on the back in excitement. They made their way over to Remus, who was stood there seemingly entranced by Y/N. It was like she was glowing with excitement, and he couldn't help the dopy smile on his face at seeing her so happy. 

When the pair got to him Sirius pulled him into a headlock, rustling his hair slightly as he laughed, “we’re superstars we are,” he gleamed, letting go of the boy and putting an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, “everyone loves us.”

“Y/N I can understand people liking, but you?” Remus says, glancing at Y/N quickly to see her face going slightly pink, as he is doing too, at his bold comment. ‘haha lover boy,’ Sirius shoots back, but Remus isn’t listening as Y/N passes him a piece of parchment, notes from last potions class. They both go to say something when the door swings open and they are being summoned inside for class. 

The boys are back in their dorms, late in the evening now, Sirius and James gasbagging about Severus while Peter listens attentively, chewing on a sweet Y/N brought to the common room earlier. Remus is trying to read his herbology textbook, trying to take notes from class today, but his mind continues to wonder. To Y/N, to Halloween, to Sirius and Y/N's friendship, he’s all over the place. As his mind is racing he feels the heat in his shirt pocket start to warm up, shocking him out of his trance as he pulls out the bit of parchment Y/N handed him earlier. He never got a chance to ask her about it, she was being pulled in every direction that day, but as he looks down at the piece of paper, no longer homework but rather an invitation now. He feels his heart start to beat harder in his chest as he turns the sheet over, Y/N’s handwriting littering the page, 

“I’m so glad you decided to come, Remus, I was hoping you would. I can’t wait to see you, I’m really glad we’re doing a costume together.”

That night Remus goes to bed with a huge grin on his face, the happiest he’s felt in ages.

Halloween day comes and goes, much slower than the school would like. The teachers drone on in their usual lessons, their patience running thin at their student's erratic excitement. No one was more excited than Y/N. The second her last class finished she was off, grabbing her friends as she went and dragging everyone to the Ravenclaw common room, where she had made it clear would be open to anyone in dire need of a last-minute costume. In came students of every house and year and out walked clowns, mimes, zombies, princesses, anything and everything they could think of, hidden from the teachers by some simple spells. 

The boys were down at the room of requirements, decorating for the party to come; the room had transformed itself into a huge dance hall, and the boys were doing everything in their power to make it a spooky extravaganza. And they were succeeding. There were jack o'lantern, punch, sweets of every size and shape, every corner of the room decorated with spooky charmed decorations, and every ceiling adorning some spider or streamers. Peter had even thought of the idea to set up a trick or treating scavenger hunt for the younger students (and some of the older students too), so there were plenty of people already coming in and out collecting clues and sweets before they weren’t allowed to be wandering the halls anymore. 

It was immaculate, seeing the room come together because of his friend's hard work, but nothing could describe the awe he felt when Y/N walked in the room. By now there were people flooding in at a regular pace, but when he heard that soft voice call his name and turned to see her, his world seemed to stop. All he could do was stare, she looked gorgeous. Not that he didn't always think she looked gorgeous, but he couldn't help but think how happy she looked, completely encompassed by the holiday spirit. She looked beautiful in her costume, her hair big and curly, and the tight leather trousers and off the shoulder top complimenting her figure perfectly. She held her self with a confidence he had never seen in the girl before, and he was amazed. 

“This is brilliant Remus,” Y/N smiles up at him, grabbing his hand as she looks around, “you guys did an amazing job.”

Remus barely processes her words as his brain is already trying to put together his next sentence, “you look incredible.”

It caught Y/N off guard his compliment, he had never been so earnest and bold with her before, and the sentiment made her blush furiously, “you look great yourself.” The teens stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, when Sirius and James sauntered over to the pair, already on the verge of drunk, and started chiding them “there’s my favourite greaser couple.”

“Don't tell me this is your incredible costume?” 

Sirius was shirtless, a studded leather jacket and black glove the only attempt at a costume, giving him a Billy Idol vibe that both Y/N and Remus didn’t even know was intentional. James was more obviously dressed up, the mouse ears on his head giving him a very distinct, albeit lazy Micky Mouse appearance. They both just shrugged at the girl, going into a tirade of drunken excuses to which Y/N just rolled her eyes, “if it makes you feel better I only did this to match with Lily,” James slurs, “turns out they were lying to me and she's wearing some bloody antlers.”

“Dear god James you’re so thick sometimes,” Y/N shook her head, turning towards Remus, “wanna go dance?”

The pair made their way into the crowds of other people dancing, ignoring James’ shouts of questions. 

The night went on, and the people kept dancing, chatting and spinning and laughing at how much fun they were having; all through the night people would come up and compliment Y/N on the party, and never once did she take full credit, always saying how much other people helped her. As the pair stood there, laughing with their friends as they danced to the ending of the monster mash, it slowly faded and didn't pick up again. A slow song began to play, and Remus looked over to see Sirius playing with the music, James giving him a thumbs up. 

Before Remus can say anything, Y/N is placing his hand on his arm, “wanna dance?” Despite both of their nerves, the pair danced together slowly, Remus’s arms around her waist, and Y/N’s around his shoulders. Both of them wanted to look at each other, to bask in how lovely they each looked but neither wanted to ruin the moment. 

Remus moved his head from where it was resting against Y/Ns, and she moved her head to look up at him, meeting that soft, goofy smile that sent her stomach tingling with butterflies. “you really do look lovely tonight, I’m so glad you asked me to come with you.”

Y/N barely knew what to say to him, it seemed that her body was moving on its own as their heads were slowly moving towards each other. “I’m glad you came with me,” she mumbled back before their lips finally connected. 

What seemed to be years in the making was finally happening, both teens dream coming true as their lips pressed softly together. All at once, Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing at yet somehow, all she could focus on was Remus, and his lips pressed against hers. It seems that the world disappeared around them, as they stood there with each other. Nothing mattered right now except them.

They pulled apart sooner than they wanted to, both could've stayed there for eternity if they had the chance. They looked into each other's eyes, hoping their shared glance could give them all the words they failed to be able to say. It was a nice moment until James’s, Sirius’s and Peter’s hollers broke through the soft ambience of the crowd, everyone looking around confused, some even joining in as Remus and Y/N just laughed slightly at their friends' antics. 

“Do you wanna do Hogsmead with me this weekend?” Y/N asked softly, grinning up at the boy. 

He leaned down to connect their lips again softly, grinning when they pulled apart, “I would love to.” 

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin headcanons #grease 2 #the superior grease #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter Smut #harry potter fluff #hogwarts #Marauders #marauders remus #requested #remus #hp #HP Fandom #hp fanfic #marauders fanfiction #haloween #grease

[realhotdweebshit]

thunderstorms | nsfw

pairing: Thor x Black Reader

summary: Thunderstorms make Thor...moody. Meg thee Stallion style. While Thor is indeed the god of thunder, thunder (in return) wields a sort of power of him. Particularly his temperament--his emotions are intensified. Be it joy, sadness, anger, or lust (your favorite), his sensitivity to that emotion is multiplied by nearby storms. All the electricity in the air...and it's the summer. Shit.

warnings: teasing, femdom, v light bondage, cheesy writing overall

rating: mature (18+) not graphic but v horny

___

You absentmindedly swipe through the apps on your home screen, trying to kill time as you wait for the elevator. Your background distracts you for a moment; a photo of Thor Odinson, previously King of Asgard and Ruler of the Nine Realms and currently your boyfriend, asleep on your couch. He's so cute, you think to yourself. A sudden ding yanks your head up. The doors open, revealing an empty car. You and someone in a worn college hoodie enter. You recognize them as your neighbor, living one level below. You exchange nonverbal hellos before resuming your separate reveries.

You unlock your screen once more, reflexively. No notifications in the last 90 seconds? Baffling. Bored, you decide to check the weather.

Cloudy, cloudy, cloudy--Jesus, what a bummer week, you think to yourself until your eyes land on Friday night. 100% chance of thunderstorms.

"Oh fuck yeah!" you say out loud. You panic as you remember your neighbor standing beside you. Thank God, headphones. Like clockwork the elevator doors open. They shoot you a tired smile before exiting.

The moment the doors close, you break into a pelvic thrust heavy celebratory dance.

...

Thunderstorms make Thor...moody. Meg thee Stallion style. While Thor is indeed the god of thunder, thunder (in return) wields a sort of power of him. Particularly his temperament--his emotions are intensified. Be it joy, sadness, anger, or lust (your favorite), his sensitivity to that emotion is multiplied by nearby storms. All the electricity in the air...and it's the summer. Shit.

If I play my cards right, this one night could lead to a three day dick down. You smirk to yourself as wicked ideas fly through your head. Oh, he's going to hate you this week.

It'll be worth it.

Teasing is one of your favorite pastimes. Thor "hates" it. You add quotes because while he gets visibly vexed once he catches on to what you're doing, he also gets tangibly turned on and encourages you to go further.

The word encourages is being polite. Begs is the exact term. An image of Thor panting flashes before your eyes.

You’re sitting poised at the end of the bed, dragging your fingers in lazy circles on the inside of his thigh. Your eyes zoom in on your favorite silk head scarf, tied in a neat bow around Thor’s wrists at the top of your metal bed frame. Of course he could free himself at any moment, but that was your favorite scarf. If he ripped it, you certainly wouldn’t be in the mood to continue, and he certainly wouldn’t survive being left hanging. Not in this position, I mean he’s completely naked.

Your eyes darted to his heaving chest. His breath was uneven. A thin sheen of sweat blanketed his muscular frame. You glanced at his face and saw more beads forming at his forehead.

“You dare treat a god this way?” He rasped.

“You don’t like how I’m touching you?” You replied with thinly veiled faux concern, withdrawing your fingers. He nearly snarled with frustration.

“You’ve had me bound to your bed for two hours and barely touched me. This is torture,” he spat out. You immediately wrapped your hand around his throbbing third leg, massaging it. The relieved moans that burst through him shocked the both of you, but you kept up your rhythm. His body collapsed into your touch; his head lolled to the side.

“I don’t want to torture you, baby. I just want to make you feel good,” you assured him. He moaned louder, and his hips began to roll with your movements. Out of the window you noticed clouds begin to loom and you grinned.

Tssst.

A tiny tearing sound wiped the smile from your face and halted your hand. Thor’s head shot up and his eyes met yours. You saw genuine fear in his eyes and knew in that moment that you truly were the baddest bitch in the nine realms.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry it was only a tear it was only a tear I won’t do it again,” he said in one breath. He was nearly hyperventilating. You tore your hand off of him and he wailed.

“First you accuse me of torture then you rip my favorite scarf? What am I supposed to wear next time I don't feel like doing my hair? Clearly you're not appreciating my efforts tonight-”

“Please, please don’t stop,” he cut you off. “I beg you please, let me apologize, let me show you how much I appreciate you, please.”

The high that washed over you was almost overwhelming. Your skin was practically buzzing. You were suddenly drunk with power, and power made you greedy.

“I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. For a second, I thought I heard the god of thunder begging. What did you just say?”

He gritted his teeth for a moment, then exhaled.

“I beg you, y/n,” he whispered, eyes pleading. “Release me, and I will make it up to you right away. A thousand times over.”

Your eyes widen with excitement as you stand up to untie him. “A thousand times over? You forget I’m a mere mortal.”

The moment the fabric falls to the floor his arms snake around your waist. Thor tucks you underneath him as he spreads your legs.

“Prepare for divine intervention, my love.”

You snap out of the fond memory almost as quickly as you fell into it. You squirm in discomfort, feeling the effects of your daydreaming soak into your underwear. Thank God you made it back to your apartment before becoming a horny mess.

Thor’s apology touched you so deeply you had to call out of work the next day. And that was without a storm.

With an evil smile, you begin to plan your attack.

___

ahh! i haven't published fic in a long time. let me know what you think! if you vibe with a Black femme gay who enjoys nerdy fanfic, let's follow each other <3

#thor x reader #thor x black!reader #thor x you #thor smut #thor fanfiction #marvel smut #black y/n #black!reader #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #marvel fanficfion #avengers smut #avengers imagine #thor odinson fanfiction #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson smut #reader x thor #poc!reader #poc reader #mcu smut

[janaeekook]

.Crimson lace.

pairing: bestfriend!seonghwa x reader (f)

warnings: dom!seonghwa, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe kids)

word count: 4.9k

The roads were winding, twisting through the expansive mountain scape around you, Small flakes of snow falling along the road. You were in the passenger seat of your best friends car, the radio softly playing some pop song that Seonghwa seemed to know word for word.

It was that time of year, Seonghwa's family and their annual trip to their cabin. The past years you and Seonghwa had gone up a day earlier than the rest of his family to take up all the supplies for the week and check that the generator still worked properly.

"So what movies are we going to watch tonight?" You asked, curious as to what we would do before his parents, aunts, uncles, siblings and cousins came up tomorrow.

"I'll leave that to you." He said glancing over to you from the drivers seat. You smiled widely, knowing which movies you'd pick for the movie night that had become a tradition.

The smile that masked your face didn't fade as you watched each dainty snowflake powder from the sky. It was exquisitely beautiful, the grey early January sky, the chill of the outdoors cut off by the cars heat and the warm starbucks coffee that warmed you from the inside.

You hummed tugging your legs into a crossed position in the seat, the paper cup still in your clutch. You inspected the glove box, nothing but crumpled napkins, registration and a small first aid kit.

"We're almost there." Seonghwa informed you.

"How did you-"

"You act like I haven't known you my whole life." He chuckled, "You get antsy after long car rides."

You chuckled, forgetting that Seonghwa was indeed your bestfriend, and had been for years. He knew practically everything about you, neither of you ever saw each other as more than bestfriends bound at the hip.

He'd seen you half naked, passed out drunk on the bathroom floor, three times through the notebook after your first breakup, and he was by your side through all of it. Nursing you to health, loving you when you thought no one would, and giving you endless support when your dad passed away.

His parents were the same growing up, knowing your mom was busy working overtime to pay the bills; you'd stay over, that was when you and Seonghwa really grew close, you sleeping on the floor of his dragon themed bedroom.

As your mind continued to reminisce, the car was pulling up to the large cabin, It was large enough to house all 17 of us with its 7 bedrooms. The parents and grandparents got their rooms, the younger kids shared rooms, the girls in one and boys in the other. But as you and Seonghwa got older you started sharing the last bedroom.

It wasn't weird for you, you'd been sharing a bedroom and bed with him since you were both 4. His relatives however always asked if the two of you were dating, and you'd laugh it off because to the two of you it was utterly ridiculous.

You stretched your tired limbs when you stepped from the warmth of Seonghwa's car into the brisk outside winter air, "We made it!" You exclaimed lightly in excitement.

Seonghwa's chuckle sounded warm enough to melt the falling snow all away, "Did you doubt we would?"

You shrugged, grabbing one of the many large boxes of food and supplies that were piled in the back of his car.

"You're a scary driver." You teased, feigning fright. He smacked your arm before grabbing a box as well.

"Excuse me I am a wonderful driver."

You giggled, stopping promptly as you reached the entry way, Seonghwa taking his keys and unlocking the large wooden door. You took a deep breath in as you stepped through the door, the cabin always had a distinct smell a mixture of sandalwood and crisp apple.

"Wait!" You gasped making Seonghwa who stood in the kitchen whip around to look at you in slight concern which quickly faded upon studying your face. Bright eyes and an excited smile as you continued to hold onto the box of food.

"What?" He couldn't contain the contagious smile that spread across his face.

"Can we make a fort for our movie night?"

"Let's get everything inside, and the generator going, first and then talk about the plan for the night, ok?" He said and you nodded quickly in agreement. He watched as you skipped back out the door, and he couldn't help the smile that drew at his lips.

Anyone watching them could see the love and adoration in his eyes, anyone and everyone, except you. Seonghwa had started to feel more for you, he loved you and he wanted you to know. But you were oblivious to the signs he'd been displaying the past 2 years. Sometimes he grew frustrated and just wanted to grab your face and kiss you— but at what cost? What if you didn't feel the same?

Well he knew you didn't, he was just your bestfriend and nothing more. He never tested that boundary for fear of losing you, he could never picture a life without you, it just didn't make sense.

"Hwa!" He was pulled from his thoughts by your voice, "Get out here and help me."

He chuckled, "Ya, ya." Following your words out the door

.

The generator rolled with a start, humming lightly. Seonghwa stood dusting off his hands as he stood from his previously squat position before leaving the small shed with a huff of satisfaction hurrying the short distance back to the insulated cabin.

"You got it?" You asked the second you heard him come through the door.

"Try the lights." he said, and so you did, the dark room quickly being illuminated by the warm light.

"Haha! Look at that!" You exclaimed, he always loved the excitement you got from the smallest things. Lights, electricity, something so simple and everyday and yet it brought you the upmost joy.

He wanted to tell you how cute you were, "Aww is someone afraid of the dark?" He joked instead.

"Very funny, If I recall correctly you were the one that just had to have his Spiderman night light plugged in."

He scoffed, "At least I don't cry at the sight of an insect."

"Arachnophobia is a very real thing, Seonghwa."

"Then I hope none are lurking around the cabin." He said in an attempted spooky voice, wiggling his fingers as he moved his arm toward you, which you proceeded to hit out of the way. You stuck your tongue out at him.

"Jackass." You said, and he only replied with his melodic laugh, You threw a folded blanket at his chest, "Now help me with the fort."

You both threw blankets over the couch and propped them on various chairs from about the cabin. Purposely leaving the fluffiest and nicest blankets for the inside, where you also strung fairy lights randomly. It was as magical and cuddly-cozy-warm as ever. You climbed in wrapping yourself in a blanket then opened your laptop in front of you, Seonghwa joining with an armful of snacks.

You hummed, grabbing a handful of popcorn, "You know the way to my heart, Park."

"Its like I'm your bestfriend or something."

"Hm, so 10 Things I Hate About You, ya?"

"Whatever makes you happy." He said with a smile. That's all he wished, for you to be happy, and if sitting here with you in a makeshift fort of blankets and fairy lights, with snacks that were bad for you and cheesy hallmark movies, was what made you happy— then so be it. If you insisted, he would sit there all the days of his life with you.

He sighed lightly to himself, You've got it bad Seonghwa. He thought, though he knew, he'd known. Falling helplessly in love with his bestfriend, who saw him as just that, her bestfriend.

How truly infuriating it must be for him to see you look at others and not even consider him. Though that wasn't your fault. You didn't know. He wished you'd notice, but you still hadn't. It had been years, every holiday, coming up to the cabin— falling asleep next to the other.

He looked over to you, your eyes shut and lips parted slightly. It was unbelievable, you always insisted on a movie night but Seonghwa knew you'd be asleep by the end of the first. That's just how you worked; he studied your sleeping face with a smile, tuning out the movie. He thought you looked beautiful, truly.

Unconsciously you scooted toward Seonghwa's warmth. His lips forming a sad smile as he watched his sleeping bestfriend cuddle into his chest. You'd always been cuddly, ever since childhood— as if you had been starved of physical affection your entire life. So you'd always found reasons to hug him, or others and be close to them, not wishing them the same fate.

This is how he'd fallen in love with you. Why, he'd fallen in love with you. Simply for you and your heart.

Though he was still a teenage boy, and when he woke up in the middle of the night, that night, heart racing, skin damp with sweat and his boxers straining against him. He wanted to curse at himself, to ignore it and go back to sleep. But you moving in your sleep forced him to fight off a moan as your ass pressed against him unintentionally.

He nearly jumped off the floor and right up hurrying to the bathroom, where he shut and locked the door, before leaning against it. He looked at the clock that quietly ticked on the wall, 3:45 am. He sighed, annoyed then pulled his sweatpants down just enough to take himself into his hand, pumping himself as he searched for relief. And he did, cumming over his hand as he whispered your name.

.

The next morning you woke up, Seonghwa no longer next to you. You looked out of the fort finding him sitting on an uncovered part of the couch, eyes fixated on the TV.

"Seonghwa?" You croaked out, he turned to glance at you, his cheeks red but you assumed it was from the cold, "What's going on?" He didn't actually respond just turned up the volume on the TV.

Breaking: All roads on the highway north are closed after an unexpected snow storm dumped at least 5 feet of snow in the middle of the night, authorities are advising residents to be patient as they work to clear the roads.

"We're snowed in." He finally said.

"So- what does that mean about your family coming up?"

"They're not." His voice seemed strained, as if full of dread.

"Jeez, I can't be that awful to be around." You joked before stalking off into the kitchen to make some breakfast.

What you didn't know however was what truly was going through his head. This had to have been some twisted fate the universe had placed on him, working to test his strength in the process. How long could he hold out? How long could he restrain himself in these close quarters? Maybe it was the cold getting to his head, making him weaker.

"Do you want pancakes or waffles?" You asked from the kitchen, effectively knocking Seonghwa from his trance.

"Did you really just ask me that question?" He seemed borderline offended.

"Who else?" You snorted

"Waffles are 100 times better than pancakes, you know that." He stood walking into the kitchen and standing on the opposite side of the island.

"Excuse me? Pancakes are so much better than waffles, they're fluffy."

"But everything just spills off the top, waffles have indents to capture all of that flavor so you don't miss any of it. Plus pancakes are always raw in the center."

"Are not!" You turned around facing him fully now.

"Why'd you even ask me then if you like pancakes better."

"I don't know, maybe because I thought it was a simple question." You retaliated.

"Are we really fighting about pancakes and waffles?"

"Yes, now you can make your own breakfast."

"You're a pain in the ass." He said walking around the island and grabbing cereal from the cabinet.

"Dido." You said in a sing-song voice and smiled at him. He sighed, shaking his head at you with a smile across his own lips. This was what your friendship had always consisted of, joking play fights and comments. You were probably more comfortable around Seonghwa than your own family, partly because he felt like family to you. You threw a chocolate chip at him as he sat at the counter and you wondered in that moment what you would do without your bestfriend. The rest of the day passed at a snails pace, being snowed in only making you more aware of how seemingly little there was to do in the rather large cabin. You danced to music in the living room as Seonghwa laughed saying that you had 'not a single dancer bone in your body' to which you answered him by throwing a pillow at his head. That had led to a merciless pillow fight between you, which of course he ultimately won. Later in the day You sat, reading a book on the couch. You weren't exactly sure what the book was about, you had simply found it on the book shelf. It was interesting, interesting enough for you not to register that your bestfriend had entered the room again after having gone to change.

"Hey," He said, grabbing your attention, "I'm gonna go out, check the main roads. You gonna be ok?" Seonghwa asked pulling gloves onto his hands.

"Ya, I'll be fine." You smiled at him from the couch. When he walked out the door and you heard it close behind him you dropped the book, you needed to shower, and it'd just be easier if Seonghwa was out while you did.

You threw your hair in a bun as to keep it dry, stepping into the running water and washing your body. It was hot against your skin, and you sighed as your body relaxed. You took your time as the water ran over you. The past day had been a whirl-wind of surprises, with all the snow, we were able to call Seonghwa's family with the land line, but other than that there was no reception, No clear way to get home as the snow blocked the roads. The plows hadn't made it through the back roads. It wasn't too awful being stuck with Seonghwa-- if it was anyone other than your bestfriend you think you'd have pulled out all your hair already.  

Though not having your alone time already had you cranky, you sighed, washing your body. Finally feeling clean you shut off the water and stepped out, standing on the small shower mat you looked into the mirror, You allowed your eyes to scan you body decorated with water droplets. You felt-- pretty, as if your insecurities had been washed away, and saw your body for what it was, you. You smiled lightly before grabbing a towel and drying your skin. You left the humid bathroom and went to the bedroom, kneeling in front of your suitcase in hopes of finding something comfortable to wear. Though when you flipped open the lid you saw the crimson lace. You felt heat rush to your cheeks at the thought of why you even packed the scandalous piece of thin fabric. What were you even hoping to accomplish?  

You lifted the lingerie up, you bit your lip lightly, Seonghwa wasn't there it'll be fine if you wore if for a bit. right? You sighed again before you stood, dropping the towel, and letting it pool at your ankles. You pulled on the matching lace set, before looking over yourself in the full length mirror in the bedroom. It fit perfectly, and boy did it make your confidence soar. You felt empowered by your own body, beautiful. Any supposed imperfection, that prompted insecurities in your heart and mind, a mere reminder of how uniquely beautiful you were.

You weren't sure how long you stood there. But your heart stopped when the door was pushed open. Though you didn't yell, you didn't even move to cover yourself. No, you weren't frozen but deep down, you wanted him to see you-- even if you hadn't realized it.

"Hey, Y/n, the roads-" but he stopped mid-sentence when he was welcomed to the sight of you in next to nothing. His eyes seemed to cloud with a dark lust, you held your breath, he stepped closer, the tips of his fingers grabbed at one of the straps. His eyes fleeting over your body once more, as his fingers traced the crimson lace that covered your breast. His intense gaze met yours again when his hand fell away from your chest.

"What are you doing to me?" His voice a low whisper.

"You said you went to check the roads." Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, the way your bestfriends eyes ran over your body, drinking up each curve. It should have made you uncomfortable, but you couldn't help but feel desire creep into your thoughts.

"That was an hour ago."

"Oh." was all you could find in your mind to say. It was silent for a few beats before you decided to speak again, "Seonghwa."

"I need you to let me know if you're uncomfortable, because, I really don't want to hold back right now." You'd never heard Seonghwa sound so sultry before to someone, let alone yourself.

The whine that involuntarily slipped past your lips encouraged him to step forward and entrap your lips with his. It was a searing kiss, he pushed you back against the small desk that was behind you in the small bedroom.

You felt as the red lace of your panties pooled with arousal, your cheeks flushed, wondering how your childhood bestfriend made your body feel so uncontrollably hot, without even so much as a touch to your skin. He hiked you onto the small desk nudging your legs apart with his knee so he could stand between them.

"Was this your plan? Hm? Get me to lose control and fuck you?" His fingers traced your jaw hooking lightly under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet. His eyes held a hard questioning gaze, you tried to shake your head no but he held your chin in place, "Use your words."

"No- no hwa."

"No? You sure darling? You just happened to be wearing this?"

"Yes." Your tone was soft as your confidence, for the first time since you were children, wavered under his gaze.

The corner of his lip quirked up lightly, "Am I making you nervous darling?" His cocky tone oozing from each word.

"Seonghwa-" your voice breathy as you looked up into his eyes, his fingers moved over the wet patch on your red lace panties.

"That needy baby? Hm?" He asked when you whined.

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Make me feel good."

Nothing more needed to be said as his lips were on yours again need and want burning between you. You'd never felt it before, you'd never wanted someone to touch you intimately so badly, especially not Seonghwa. But there was something forbidden about his touch that made your body hot with desire.

He got to his knees before you, his face now parallel with your cunt. He kissed over the thin fabric and your breath shuddered. He thought you looked beautiful, the red lace complimenting your skin tone perfectly.

"God you're perfect." And with that he pushed the barrier of fabric to the side running his tongue through your slick folds. The noises you made only further expressing how needy you really were, it felt wrongfully right. His mouth on you bringing you to the edge quicker than you imagined possible and it was just his tongue, he didn't need anything more to pleasure you.

"S-seonghwa-" your head lulled back in response to the overwhelming pleasure, your eyes squeezing shut, your ears tuning into the wet noises eliciting from between your legs.

Your head snapping back to the man between your legs when he pulled away. You whined with a solid pout on your lips having not finished.

"Not yet." Was all he said, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. He pulled you from the desk, his lips finding yours again as he pushed you back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. He eased you down onto the plush mattress, your lips never separating.

Removing his clothes you felt his own hot skin against yours. Everything seeming to melt together, the lines of your friendship, your bodies as you pulled eachother closer— feeling your need grow tenfold as his hips grinded down on yours.

Voice breathy in your throat you managed to push his name out, "Seonghwa-"

"Mmm, you sound so pretty saying my name."

"Seonghwa, please." Your voice more stern now, you needed relief from the pulsing between your thighs.

"Begging now, are we?" He smirked as he teased you and you rolled your eyes, "Don't worry darling, I'll make you cum on my cock."

And in that he didn't lie, his lips peppering you neck and collarbones before wrapping around your lace covered nipples. Removing his own clothes eagerly, but he froze.

"Condom-"

"I'm on the pill, Hwa, please don't stop now." The desperation in your voice fueling his own need to be inside you. He craved to feel you warm around him.

Running the head of his cock over you folds caused his breath to catch in his throat, every late-night forbidden fantasy when he laid in his bed alone, dominant hand pumping himself to the thought of you. It was all about to become very real, a shaky moan leaving both your lips as he pressed into you. There was no going back after that, not as you came on him within minutes— no matter how much your head denied your want for him, your body couldn't.

Though when he came, soon after you, he didn't stop. You whined not because it was bad, but because the overstimulation burned in your stomach. It was intoxicating and Seonghwa continued to drill into you. Determination was clear on his face, his lower lip pulled between his teeth. Your eyes met his.

"God, I can't get enough of you." He panted out. Each breath grew sharper as he worked himself to his second consecutive high.

You couldn't speak, your brain was far to hazy, only your moans of pleasure and your thoughts screaming his name. The slapping of skin, over the bed creaking beneath you, and your incessant noises— becoming deafeningly loud.

Though you weren't all too worried about about being too loud. The dense snow covered forest beyond the walls of this cabin hushing it all, "Seonghwa!" Had only been a mere whisper to the trees. What had just happened between you and your bestfriend? You couldnt really say-- and he couldnt either as you both tugged on your clothes again. Neither one of you having any clue how to start the conversation at large. Though Seonghwa's voice finally broke the silence.

"That was-" He paused searching for the right word to use.

"Really good." You finished for him, another lapse of silence passed.

"I'll just- go and start a fire." Seonghwa said before leaving the room.

"I'll make dinner." You spoke quicker than you normally would and rushed off to find solitude in the kitchen. In the privacy of your own minds you thought the same thing, What was that? And why did you want more? Though was there even more to ask for when you'd seemed to have done everything?

The two of you slept separately that night, not wanting to fall into the temptation of the others skin. At least not before you figured everything out. But as you laid alone in the bed, and he in the living room in front of the fire, all that either of you could think of was your bodies pressed snuggly to the others. How it felt to have him inside you, the feeling of his hot lips on your skin. It was loud in your thoughts, and every time you tried to push it down and settle your heart, It only got louder. Sleep did eventually come to you, albeit reluctantly. It was rather short lived, you waking up to Seonghwa shaking you awake.

"They cleared the roads, my mom said we should just head home." You nodded in understanding, before watching his back as he left the room, studying the way he moved. It was effortless, graceful. You shook your head, bringing you back to reality.

By the time you were ready, Seonghwa had already had the car fully packed. You could sense that he was eager to get back home and have time for himself to think, and you didn't blame him because you wanted the same thing. You didn't want to walk on egg shells and give each other the silent treatment any longer. Yes, you wanted to figure it all out and for things to go back to normal between you two. But you couldn't help the instinct to run and hide because the feelings in your heart scared you. You'd grown so comfortable knowing Seonghwa as your bestfriend, that you weren't sure of how to react to that security changing overnight. That, your bestfriend could be more than that of a bestfriend.

.

It was January and the start of the last semester of senior year. A week and a half since you'd slept with you bestfriend. Seonghwa had effectively been avoiding you and you weren't exactly searching for him either, you didn't know how to start that conversation.

'hey, I know we broke every rule in the book between us but, bestfriends still?' You knew it simply wouldn't be that easy. The things he said, the way he touched you, and made you feel. The emotions now a constant linger in your mind.

You couldn't just move on like it were nothing, because it wasn't nothing. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea but you couldn't help but think, that you wanted it again. More of him, if that were even possible. You'd never thought you'd think of Hwa that way, not in a million years. Though you didn't know how to face him. But not seeing and talking to him after being so vulnerable with each other made your heart ache.

It wasn't until he showed up at your door on that rainy Saturday afternoon, that you saw him. Your heart picking up in speed. His wet hair sticking to his forehead, had he always looked this good doing something so simple? Wearing something so simple? You were sure he could hear your heart pounding in your chest.

"We need to talk." He said, almost as if he was trying to convince himself, he continued as he stepped through the door, "I can't- we can't avoid this anymore. I'm sorry, y/n, I shouldn't have came onto you like that, god I should've known this would mess everything up."

"Seonghwa-"

"You were vulnerable and I let my feelings get the better of me," he hung his head, "Y/n I'm so sorry, and you don't have to forgive me."

"Seonghwa, I'm not mad at you." you said quickly so he wouldn't interrupt you again.

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"Why are you?" You asked softly, trying to convey your thoughts, you sighed, "You're just as scared to face these feelings as I am."

His head snapped up and his eyes found yours for, what seemed to be, the first time since he'd been there. He searched your face for any sign that you weren't serious, he came up empty handed. Had you both been feeling this?

"You-?" His eyes continued to search yours, He had so many questions, When? Why him?

"-Love you." You finished his thought with a whisper, but he heard you loud and clear. His features visibly seemed to soften before he was kissing you again. You had longed for his lips to be on yours again since the moment they left, for you melted so easily into it.

He pulled back resting his forehead on your own, "I love you too." and he delved in for another kiss, before he quickly pulled back again, "Your mom."

His voice a low whisper with a tone of disappointment. But you only chuckled at him.

"She just left for her 72." You told him, and he smiled, already having plans for your alone time.

"Perfect."

You shook your head at his eagerness as he practically dragged you up the stairs to your room, "You know we'll have to tell our parents eventually right?"

"I know," He said, turning to face you once you were both in you bedroom, "But lets just enjoy this alone time." His palms held your cheeks as he kissed you with such passion it felt as if he'd taken your breath away, But you leaned into his warmth anyway before kicking your door shut with your heel.

As the sun slipped beneath the horizon and the rain poured harder outside, he showed you how much he loved you, he told you, and you fully welcomed the lingering emotions. You became his, in the twisted sheets, the loving kisses, in the noises that escaped from your swollen lips, and the baroque, Crimson Lace.

#park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa ateez #ateez fluff #seonghwa #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa smut #park seonghwa ateez #park seonghwa fluff #seonghwa bestfriend #seonghwa au #ateez au #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop #atiny #seonghwa aesthetic #seonghwa blurbs #seonghwa drabble

[ickle-ronniekins]

black & white

request: from nonnie: ASDFGhjkl. Why are your fics so CUTE? 😭 Can I request a cute and cheesy George proposing to the fem!reader—and they’re wedding? 💜

desc: a love story unfolded via a timeline of events and colors. based on the song ‘black and white’ by niall horan

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 5.5k

warning(s): lil bit of angst, alcohol, some sexual content if you squint but it stops before things ~heat up~

A/N: this is just pure fluff. may or may not have cried at the cheesiness. idk. i’m a cheesy gal. can’t help it. i’m in love with a fictional character. sorry i went a tad overboard with this. also let’s pretend ~voldy~ doesn’t exist in this k? reminder that my requests are currently closed, i am merely working through the requests already in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be posted on any other platform.

Red

Red, hot fury swept through your bones as you watched him laugh hysterically alongside his brother. You balled your fists together, ready to throw a punch, but you knew your mum would lock you in your room until you were forty years of age if you even thought of throwing hands.

George Weasley was a pretentious little git. It was bad enough that he was your neighbour and you had to see him and his equally annoying twin in the village nearly every day, but what made it even worse was that for whatever reason, he’d chosen you to be on the receiving end of all of his pranks. His mother, Molly, was not for it -- she often gave her sons a solid tongue lashing, but it clearly never made an impact, for each and every day they were back to their normal mischief, seeking out ways to make you shake with anger.

“Weasley!” you squeaked as he and his brother ran back across the field toward their home. You loathed the idea of being in the same school as him in just two years time. At least here, at home, you could escape to your own house and your own room, far away from the boy who teasingly threw a red paint balloon all over you and your new dress. But at school, well -- the castle was only so big, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure how far away from him you’d be able to get.

You watched as he and Fred ran away, their giggles echoing through the air on top of the hill. You looked down at your ruined dress and screamed. You reckoned you’d never be able to love the colour red ever again -- not when it had ruined your beautiful purple dress, and especially when it was the colour of his annoying, messy hair.

Yellow

“I’m really sorry.”

He was standing across from you in the field. You thought about telling him that you needed to take four showers in order to get all of the red paint from your hair, and that your dress was permanently stained, but instead you folded your arms across your chest and huffed a bit. Not even magic could salvage it.

“I promise, I mean it,” he squeaked, as if he could read your mind. He seemed sincere, but he was always getting into all types of trouble, wasn’t he? Perhaps he was as good a liar as he was a pranker.

You kicked at the dirt, unsure of what to say. “You ruined my dress.”

“I know, I’m really sorry,” he said again, “it was all Freddie’s doing! I know he normally takes charge of pranks, but blimey, I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”

You arched your eyebrows up in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah,” George told you. The wind ruffled the leaves on the tree next to you both, and you watched him tentatively as a big smile split his face. He wandered over to the tree trunk and picked at the flowers that were growing at the base. Then he turned around, marched right over to you, and handed them to you.

Yellow dandelions. You peered down at them, and then looked up at him in surprise. This wouldn’t fix your dress, but he was trying, at least. You noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks when he smiled. “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

You couldn’t help it; you blushed and looked toward the ground. You picked a bit at the flowers and met George’s gaze once again. “You still owe me, Weasley.”

You both heard Molly calling him for dinner. “Okay, mum!” he called back, his voice echoing against the wind. He turned back toward you. “Promise. I owe you. I also promise to kick Fred’s arse since it was his idea anyway.”

A squeak of a giggle emitted from your lips and you watched as George Weasley skipped all the way home.

Blue

All of Ravenclaw house erupted into cheers as the colours of the Great Hall changed to celebrate the momentous occasion of your house winning the Quidditch Cup. It had been a neck to neck match against Gryffindor, but had you not caught the snitch before Harry, they would have had it in the bag for the third year in a row.

“At the risk of sounding like I’m pro Ravenclaw, I’ve got to say, you guys put up a great match,” you whirled around in the crowd and saw George standing in front of you. He had his hands in his pockets and he shrugged, clearly upset at a Gryffindor loss, but at least they hadn’t lost to Slytherin, right? “You really are a wicked Seeker.”

“Thanks, Weasley,” you said triumphantly, both pleased with yourself for winning but also feeling a little bit guilty for beating Gryffindor.

“When did you get so good anyway?”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand to your chin and pretended to be deep in thought, “do you mean, how did I get to be so incredible? I don’t have an answer for you, truthfully, reckon I was just born with it.”

Students filtered around you both, and you watched him laugh as blue confetti fell around the both of you and the rest of the Great Hall. Personally you thought it was a little much, but the captain had insisted. You met George’s gaze again though, and rolled your eyes.

“Oi, mate,” you heard Fred call. He reached his twin and threw an arm around his shoulders, “what’re you doing over here, conversing with the enemy?” You rolled your eyes yet again, something you found yourself doing quite often with the two of them, and Fred just grinned obnoxiously at you. “Only joking, Y/N. I suppose if anyone had to beat us, we’re glad it’s Ravenclaw. But if you repeat that, we’ll deny it, I swear to Merlin.”

“My lips are sealed, Freddie.”

You bid them both adieu before turning back to your house, celebrating and clinking your goblets of pumpkin juice together, and through the yelps and the cheers, you missed George say to Fred that he actually quite liked the way the Great Hall looked, all decorated in blue.

Orange

“How about you get to work on the ground Unicorn horn, and I’ll try and get this water crystalized?” you offered.

Today’s lesson was to brew the Oculus Potion, in the event any of you ever needed to restore someone’s sight. In an attempt to separate them, Snape had paired George with you and Fred with another Ravenclaw who didn’t look happy at all at the prospect of having him as her partner. You peered over the cauldron at George and said, “No worries. We’ve only got thirteen steps. I reckon if we keep at this without any distractions, we’ll be finished before the rest of class.”

“Better get cracking, then,” George replied.

The two of you worked in comfortable silence; you tensed a few times when Snape meandered by your table, peering down into your cauldron and scoffing, for you were certain that an attempt at any type of potion would never live up to his unrealistic expectations of two sixteen-year-olds.

A little while later, you realized that the heat emitting from all of the cauldrons was making the entire classroom incredibly warm. “Blimey, could he open a bloody window, or something?” you asked, ignoring the fact that there were absolutely no windows in the dungeons. George laughed and continued to add the crystalized water into your cauldron as you pulled your sweater over your head, leaving you in your white button down and blue and grey tie. You pulled your hair back off of your neck and said, “Alright, be sure to only add the water until it turns indigo, George.”

The poor lad hadn’t been paying attention, because your potion was far past indigo at this point. In fact, it looked as though it had turned a deep, navy blue, bordering on black, as George peered at you with soft eyes and continued to pour in the crystalized water, not realizing that he was messing up your carefully brewed potion. A snapping noise pulled him from his thoughts, and a slight explosion erupted from your cauldron and caused black smoke to cover George’s face and hair.

Most of the class began to laugh, but Snape angrily shushed them and sauntered over to the two of you, clearly giddy beyond belief that he was able to deduct points from both of your houses for causing such a ruckus in his precious dungeons. George wiped a bit of the soot from his forehead as you poured in the antidote and giggled.

“Merlin, I’m sorry -- didn’t mean to get points taken from your house.”

“Eh, it was bound to happen sooner or later.. don’t worry about it. Look! Good as new,” you clapped your hands together as the potion turned to the desired shade of orange before the final two steps. You met George’s look through the orange haze over your cauldron and asked him, “What had you so distracted anyway, Weasley?”

“Oh, erm -- nothing,” he replied a bit quickly. It didn’t go unnoticed how he’d stumbled over his words and immediately went back to looking rather intently at the directions. You bit back a smile and looked back down at yours too, unable to rid yourself of the nerves bubbling up inside of you as George looked up once again, stealing glances at you through the orange mist as nerves overtook him, too.

Green

“You had no right to do that! What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

George was standing across from you on the empty dance floor; the Yule Ball had ended abruptly and each and every student had filtered from the Great Hall and back to their respective dormitories, per the teachers. The two of you had managed to stay somehow, now more than ten feet away; you looked at one another with envy as a dramatic scene unfurled between you both.

The entire night had been nothing but a dream, up until that one dance. You’d waltzed in, your light green dress swaying beautifully near your ankles, your hand wrapped around your date’s arm. You waved to your friends, who stood with their respective dates as well, and promised yourself you’d catch up with them at the end of the night when you’d undoubtedly have stories to tell them of the most magical evening of your life.

Except that wasn’t how it worked out, had it?

“He was all over you!” George called, and you noticed how prominent the veins in his hands were when he threw them up in the air. “You said no, didn’t you? He asked you to come back to his dorm and you’d said no. Did you expect me to stand there and do nothing when he grabbed your wrists and tried to pull you there?”

George was right. You had said no, and truthfully, the way your date had grabbed you and attempted to drag you back to his room had really frightened you. You reckoned it was the firewhisky he’d drunk earlier that evening -- he wasn’t violent or anything, but he seemed desperate to get you there. All George had done was step in and stand up for you, so why on earth should you be angry at him?

You didn’t want to give George the satisfaction of letting him know that he was right. You were mad at him for other reasons, anyway. It should’ve been you that he asked to the ball, not that other disturbingly annoying Beauxbatons girl. It’s like he’d picked her particularly because he knew her annoying, bubbly personality and thick French accent would get right under your skin.

You softened a bit as you took a deep breath. “I appreciate what you did, George, but it wasn’t your place. I can take care of myself. He nearly knocked you right out!”

George winced at your words and brought a hand to his black and blue eye. He hadn’t even had the time to grab some ice and place it to the injury, and it was now rather swollen. “I don’t care if he knocked me to the bloody ground, I wasn’t going to let him do that to you!”

You couldn’t help it; anger took you over and you were saying things you shouldn’t have before you could second guess yourself. “Well you know what, George? Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!”

You knew your words hurt him, but you didn’t care. He looked as though he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him; he stepped backward and faltered a bit. His breathing became heavy and irregular. “You already had your date when I asked her, Y/N -- don’t you dare try and pin this on me.”

He was right, yet again. You couldn’t help it. Big, fat tears were falling down your face now and you reckoned you wouldn’t be able to salvage the rest of the hideousness that was this evening. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and noticed the smears of black mascara and eyeliner on your skin. He inched forward now and opened his arms, but you backed away, still not ready to show him any affection.

You were being a git, but the truth was, you’d waited until the very last possible second for George to ask you to the ball. So when he didn’t, you begrudgingly agreed to the Hufflepuff who’d stepped forward and asked you himself. And as you walked swiftly passed George and up the steps to your common room, you realized that though you’d said yes, your heart had been with the Weasley boy you so adored the entire evening.

In truth, what he’d done was brave and full of love and passion. But you were still filled with hurt.

The green monster of jealousy that you’d felt when you’d watched him dance with his date was such a vice, but you just couldn’t help how you felt.

You left George alone in the desolate Great Hall as he let his head fall into his hands, pushing down his fury and tears.

Grey

You hadn’t gone back to him, that boy from the Yule Ball. You thought about it, but you figured you’d spare George more anger.

He’d approached you, your date, the day afterwards, apologizing profusely for his behaviour and how embarrassed he was at the whole ordeal. He’d asked you for lunch, only if you were okay, and you politely declined. “Friends,” you’d said, and he smiled pitifully, but gratefully, and took your hand in his to shake it.

It was so stupid, wasn’t it? Fighting with George over this. So he hadn’t asked you to the Yule Ball, so what? It wasn’t the end all, be all, was it? And he’d stood up for you, hadn’t he? When things had gotten a little out of control. He hadn’t been your date, but he had been your saviour.

It had only been a week since the dance and you two hadn’t said a word to one another. Fred had begged you too. “Come on, Y/N, you know he’s real sorry. Can’t you just forgive him? Blimey, it’s a right difficult thing to do, splitting my time between you both.”

You merely pressed your lips together and huffed. “He can come apologize to me himself, Fred. He doesn’t need you to do it for him.”

But later that afternoon, you figured, why wait? This whole thing was so dramatic and stupid. And so after rereading the same page eight times due to your lack of concentration, you jumped up from your chair in the Ravenclaw common room and made way toward the Great Hall, as fast as your legs could carry you. You were just going to tell him exactly that -- that this entire thing was dumb, and that you were thankful for him, and that bloody hell, you missed him. Perhaps it was a bit dramatic -- it had only been six days, right? You couldn’t help it. You missed him. You missed him a lot.

The thought of finally speaking to him after a very dramatic week apart made your heart flutter, and a very wide smile split your face just as you were about to round the last bend before the Great Hall.

And then you saw it. Them. Tucked away in a corner near a deserted classroom -- tangled together, George’s hands on her waist, hers in his long red hair. Her lips nearly on his. Smiling, giggling. Kissing him.

That bloody annoying Beauxbatons girl.

You stopped short and nearly tripped over your own two feet. You opened your mouth to speak but just let your mouth tremble in silence as you watched them snog one another. Her laugh was so painfully sugary sweet, you felt as though you’d like to rip your own hair out.

You were surprised how quickly the sight of them had sent your heart plummeting into your stomach. Somewhere in the few moments when you stood there in shock, your vision had become blurry and your face had become wet. You wiped at it with your sweater sleeve and sniffled quietly so they wouldn’t hear you. You spun on your heel and sped back toward your common room, wondering what the bloody hell had come over you when you thought of apologizing to him. You just wanted to get back to your dorm. Or perhaps back to your house in Ottery St. Catchpole. Stupid, silly girl you were.

If only you knew that George had spotted you before you’d left and froze solid in the spot he was standing, ignoring the forwardness of the Beauxbatons girl attached to his arm, his heart and mind chasing you all the way home.

Purple

The Ravenclaw common room was completely empty except for you. You always did this, though -- each and every year, you were always the last to finish packing. Not because you were a procrastinator, but because you hated admitting to yourself that another year was over, and you were another year closer to impending graduation.

Someone popped through the door and said your name softly. You turned and saw George standing there with a small smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, “train’s here. You almost ready to go?”

You groaned and looked back down at your trunk, now fully packed. “If I’ve got to be.” You felt like an absolute idiot that those few words brought tears to your eyes so easily. “Oi, here I go again.”

George laughed lightly and pulled you into a hug. “We’ll be back in no time, you’ll see again how quickly the summer holidays go.”

“But George, it’s our last year!” you cried. And then you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, because you didn’t fancy the idea of boarding the train with smudged makeup and a red nose. “Anyway, shall we?”

When you grabbed your trunk and headed toward the door, George gently took your hand in his and turned you around. “I’ve got something for you actually.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and clapped your hands together. “A present? It’s not even my birthday.”

But then you wondered if it was actually a present he wanted to give you, because he took your other hand in his and squeezed them, a serious look on his face. Your features twisted into that of confusion, and you’d be lying if you said that your heartbeat didn’t increase at the sight of him looking at you so earnestly. “What is it?”

“I’ve been a real git this year. Specifically, the Yule Ball. And a little while after that.”

You laughed and playfully shoved him. Though you still felt the sting of those few weeks, you two had managed to patch things up. He hadn’t lasted that long with that Beauxbatons girl anyway. “George, we’ve been over this, c’mon -- you were only doing what you thought was right. I’ve forgiven you, you know.”

“I know,” he smiled, and you could tell that he was equally as glad as you were that you two had placed that argument behind you. But what you two hadn’t touched on since then was what you’d said to him in a fit of fury: Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!

Of course he’d wanted to ask you. He’d wanted to ask you more than anything in the entire world, but each and every time he’d opened his mouth to say something, he couldn’t. Bloody nerves, and all that. Then he went and acted like a prat, making you cry, and he vowed to himself that he’d never make you cry again, unless it were happy tears.

“I realized I’ve never properly made it up to you -- not asking you to the the Yule Ball in the first place, and that time when we were nine.”

You raised your eyebrows suspiciously. “When we were nine? What the bloody hell happened when we were nine?”

And then he pulled from his pocket the most beautiful lavender pendant you ever did see. The circular stone was outlined in the same silver as the chain, and the sun flooding in from the windows made it sparkle more than anything you’d ever seen in your life. Your breath caught in your throat and you looked back and forth from the necklace to George, and back again.

“I ruined your purple dress, remember?” he asked you. He laughed a bit, probably thinking about the ridiculous way you’d looked with red paint splattered all over you. You couldn’t believe he remembered that. “Now, it’s not a dress, but seeing as we’ve grown up a bit since then, I reckoned you’d prefer something a little nicer.” He swallowed over a lump in his throat before continuing. “I never fancied her, you know. That girl from Beauxbatons. I just...” he trailed off, searching for words he couldn’t seem to muster up. You wondered if he could hear the dramatic thump of your heart, beating loudly in the heavy silence. “It doesn’t matter. It was you I wanted to be with that night, and long after. I still do.”

Then he brushed aside your hair and placed the pendant around your neck. You peered at him through blurry vision, and surprised yourself that you were now crying due to the tenderness of his touch and the emotion in his gift and not that you two were about the board the train and leave school, no longer the same two people you were just a few moments ago.

You did the only thing you could think of and you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. You felt his shock, but it took him only mere milliseconds before he was kissing you back. In truth, you’d been wondering what it would feel like to kiss him -- the taste of him, the feel of your limbs entangled together, exactly how high your heart would soar. It was exactly the way first kisses were meant to be -- slow, and easy, and warm, the way it’s supposed to feel after having swam all day long -- your body limp and muscles de-tensing. You moulded perfectly with him, and when gravity (or rather, the first signal of the train’s departure) pulled you from one another, he peered at you with such affection that you felt as though you might explode.

You grabbed the pendant and held in gently in between your fingers, already having memorized the outline of the silver and the different shades of purple within it. “I am so bloody happy you threw red paint at me that day, Weasley.”

He laughed haughtily, throwing his head back before swinging an arm around your waist and pulling your trunk toward the exit of the Ravenclaw common room. “Merlin, me too.”

White

You were sitting at your kitchen table, ignoring the massive amount of work in front of you to admire your other hard work. Your cozy little flat looked just as you always imagined it would, with the added bonus of your boyfriend in the corner of the front entrance, fixing a loose coat hanger on the wall.

Never in your life did you imagine that things could be as perfect as this.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a flat you two would share one day.

You got up and brought with you his half empty glass of wine and handed it to him. Gratefully he took it and sipped before pressing a feather light kiss to your forehead. But then you gently traced his jawline with your finger, down his neck, across his collar bone until he followed your move and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and chaste and everything like your first one had been. But as the alcohol worked its way through your veins, you found yourself pressing yourself harder against him.

A moan of content escaped him as you bit down on his lip and slipped your hands underneath his shirt, hands pressed against his chest. Unashamedly, you pulled him toward your bedroom, and he placed his empty wine glass next to yours on the table as he kicked the door closed.

The two of you fell backwards onto the bed in an entanglement of limbs. He hovered above you, dropping down a bit to press light kisses to your neck, in between your collarbones, behind your ears, against your jawline. You so desperately wanted to feel his weight on top of you, and so you yanked him firmly against you and kissed him in a way that there was no aching way that he wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what you wanted.

He began to undo the buttons on your shirt, taking time to press kisses into your chest at the exposed places before he stopped himself and gently ran his hands across your hips, and then your cheek. His voice was merely a whisper in the deafening silence, “Are you sure?”

He gazed at you with such tenderness and love that you knew he’d stop, if you’d asked him to. He wouldn’t go another inch further if you weren’t ready. And for you, that was more than enough.

“I’m sure.”

He sucked in a breath and dipped down to press lips to yours gently before continuing to make light work of your clothes. He explored every inch of you, and the sensation of his lips gently grazing your skin caused you to arch your back in pleasure. You could feel him smiling against you, wildly in love, handling you with such care as if you were a tiny glass figure he was afraid of breaking. He held you so delicately and worked his way through each and every single one of your wants with slow and gentle hands.

You’d known it was love with him; maybe not consciously, but you’d known it long before now. Love, filled with intensity and desire and longing, in its most vulnerable and fragile form -- pure, and blinding white.

Pink

The summer air wafted in through the open window in the kitchen, and you listened to Mrs. Weasley hum some Muggle song as she set the table for dessert. You placed the finishing touches on the lemon meringue pie you baked, special because it was George’s favourite and Mrs. Weasley had insisted.

You had to admit, he’d always had the outside exterior of a tough guy, but owning a business did absolute wonders for his confidence. You noticed the way he stood up a little straighter, smiled a little bigger, and most of all, just how much he gushed about all the plans you two would be able to act on, now that you were both making income of your own.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N, you’ve absolutely knocked it out of the park with this pie, if I do say so myself.” Arthur’s praise was nothing short of wonderful; you felt the tips of your ears turn pink at his compliments. By the way Ron slouched back in his chair, looking rather chuffed indeed, you could tell he felt the same exact way. Especially when he reached for the last piece, but Hermione slapped his hand away.

“Oh my!” Molly yelped suddenly. You jumped in surprise in your seat. “Oh, Georgie dear, would you mind wandering into the field before dark? I’d love some wildflowers for the table,”

“Sure thing, mum.” George replied before turning to you and squeezing your hand. “Want to tag along?”

You said, “Of course” at the exact same time Ron said “I’ll come along too, I could use a good walk” and if you hadn’t been so focused on George’s tender gaze, you almost would’ve missed Fred silently hissing at Ron and Hermione slapping his hand yet again. “On second thought,” Ron swallowed thickly, “I’d better stay here and help you clean up, mum.”

“Atta boy, Ronniekins,” Molly said. To you and George, she continued, “You two better get going -- not long now before it turns dark!”

George stood and pulled you to your feet. “You coming, love?”

“I go where you go.”

About twenty minutes later, as the setting sun had blended with the light purples and pinks of the sky, you’d found yourself with a rather beautiful bouquet of wildflowers for Molly. You turned to George, who was leaning against the tree and smiling at you, and asked, “Shall we get going darling? Don’t want to be too late. I reckon your mum will come out here searching for us if we spend an evening among the stars.”

“Doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea, actually.” His grin deepened, and then he said, “you’re lucky I don’t have any pranks up my sleeve right now.”

You look up at the tree and recognized the place where he’d infuriated you all those long years ago. You rolled your eyes and shook your head before twirling in your dress. “I am lucky. I was able to get a new dress after the one you so lovingly ruined. Though I will admit -- I wasn’t all that big of a fan of those puffy sleeves. This one’s much more adult.”

George arched his eyebrow in surprise before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Oh yes it is.”

You slapped him playfully and pointed your finger at him. “Alright you prat, calm yourself, you’ll have to wait until we get back to our flat for any funny business.”

But then you realized, as George’s features turned from mischievous to genuine within the matter of seconds, that there was definitely more pressing matters than funny business on his mind.

And then he was telling you how he’d only teased you back then because he’d found you so bloody cute, and how he should’ve asked you to the Yule Ball and regretted every single day that he didn’t, and how he’d never met anyone who could play Quidditch quite as well as you, and how bloody happy he’d been when you’d kissed him that day in the Ravenclaw common room. And then knelt down and he asked it, the words you’d imagined since you were a little girl, strung together with such fondness and emotion and tenderness that you weren’t quite sure how you were standing upright.

You’d already begun to nod quickly through your tears before he finished, but would he really be George Weasley if he didn’t tease you, just a little? “Say yes,” he laughed, “say yes and marry me and be my wife for as long as you’ll have me.”

He slid the ring onto your finger and kissed you and picked you up and whirled you around in the field and held you gently in his arms as though you were a precious glass figurine and he was doing everything in his power to hold you delicately.

“Yes. I say yes.”

Black & White

You asked, When did you first know?

And he answered, I always knew.

You both ran back up the aisle, your white dress fluttering around your ankles, his black suit hugging the curves of his arms, and into the field and away from the party, momentarily, to celebrate your first moments as husband and wife in the place where he’d figured it all out.

He’d known since that afternoon when he’d handed you those yellow dandelions that he would bring you back here one day, to ask you to be his wife. He’d known, in the Ravenclaw common room when he gave you that purple pendant, still dangling from your neck, that one day he’d also give you a ring. He’d known, all those long years ago, that he wanted to marry you, and that you would say yes, when he’d finally ask.

And now, in front of your friends and family, he’d vowed to love you -- love in it’s purest and simplest form, love -- with all it’s sentiment and emotion and vulnerability. He vowed to love you and only you for the rest of his life.

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[ask-college-patrochilles]

Pat: It's... a long story.

The first thing Pat notices as he comes out of the shower are the voices coming from the kitchen. It isn't exactly strange considering he lived with Achilles and they'd invited Bri over for the night. He and Bri didn't hang out like they used to, with both students caught up in the senior year and post-graduation plans. It had been nice to catch up, to have Pat's two favorite people together with him at the same time.

But the second thing he realizes is how hushed they are. Achilles never mutters, always keen to shout what's on his mind, and Bri certainly doesn't whisper to Pat's boyfriend on the regular.

He knows it's wrong- they're both so important to him, he could just… walk out and ask what's up- but Pat can't help himself. Quickly, he dries off his hair and discards the towel as quietly as possible into the laundry room. There's a wall separating the hallway to his bedroom and the bathroom from the kitchen. Pat presses his back against it and strains to listen.

There's the sound of the coffee machine running, almost loud enough to drown out Bri's question. "I wanted to know how you and Pat are doing," she says, followed by the pouring of coffee into a cup.

Achilles snorts. "I would think you guys have already talked about that." Always defensive, even when he doesn't need to be. It makes Pat's chest ache.

"Yeah, but I want to hear it from you." One of the chairs scrapes against the floor, and Pat assumes Bri takes a seat. "You're your own person. You might see things differently."

Pat isn't sure why, but he holds his breath for his boyfriend's answer. Everything has been… mundane, really. Nothing special. Achilles is like an extension of Pat: they always know what the other is thinking, are always able to finish each other's sentences. More often than not they're together, Achilles leaning against him or holding his hand.

"We're good," Achilles finally replies. "Really good." Pat deflates in relief. "You'd think by now we'd be sick of each other or stepping on each other's toes, but…"

"But?" Bri prods.

"But I still always want to be by his side." Bri makes a sound, probably exasperated. "It's cheesy, yeah, but I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Pat closes his eyes with a small smile. Of course they felt the same- Achilles has his entire heart. He'd know if something was off because it would be like his own heart was breaking. There was nothing to worry about.

He's about to walk around the corner to greet them when Achilles continues. "There's just-" He pauses for a long moment. "Can you keep a secret?"

Silence.

"It's nothing bad," Achilles reassures Bri in a rush. "At least, I don't think so, but I don't really know what to think if I'm being honest. It's all so confusing and terrifying and I-"

"Slow down," Bri cuts in. "Tell me what's wrong and maybe I can help."

Achilles takes a deep breath, something Pat has had to drill into his head to do when he's overwhelmed. Hopefully, he's counting to ten in his head like Pat taught him too. They were still working on it. "I love Pat," Achilles starts again. "A lot."

"Okay."

"More than anything. More than… running or school or whatever. He's the most important person to me." The floor creaks, and Pat can only assume he's pacing around the kitchen. Achilles can never sit still when he's anxious. "I'd do anything for him. I'd… I'd eat a whole raw onion for him or fight off sharks. I'd cut off my leg- although I'd probably ask if we could amputate an arm instead since I still want to be a track star-"

"Achilles."

"Right."

Pat's heart races in his chest. He can't tell where this is going, and he hates not knowing what was on Achilles' mind. They're connected at the hip, so why can't he understand what's wrong?

"I guess I'm trying to say I don't think I could ever be with anyone else- actually, scratch that. I know I couldn't."

Bri's nails drum against the tabletop. Click, click, click. "This is all really sweet, but I don't know why you're telling me."

Achilles inhales loud enough for Pat to hear. "I want to be with him for the rest of my life."

A pause. "Okay."

"I want to marry him, Bri."

Pat's eyes widen, and he's surprised his knees don't give out underneath him.

He's always assumed he and Achilles would always be together. After all, they'd been inseparable from the moment they'd met. Even before they were partners, Pat felt whole with Achilles. Their relationship was one that was bound to last.

He just… never exactly thought about proposing or weddings or any of that. They lived together, didn't they? That was practically marriage to Pat. Splitting rent and divvying up chores wasn't for the weak of heart.

Marriage was big. Marriage meant they would spend the rest of their lives together. There'd be a certificate and everything to say they belonged only to each other. There would be anniversaries and a family and growing old together. Pat can't even fathom it- he couldn't even think about what the next week would be like! He lives his life from exam to exam, shift to shift at the hospital.

Bri seems to be on the same track as Pat. "You're both only in your twenties," she points out.

"I want to propose," Achilles says as if he doesn't hear her. "I know I do."

"Now? What about-"

"I already have a ring." Now Pat definitely wants to collapse. He covers his mouth with both hands so he doesn't gasp out loud. This was all happening very fast. The room seems to spin, and he leans his weight against the wall so he doesn't fall over.

"What?" Bri's chair scrapes against the floor. "How long have you had that?"

"A little while."

"Have you talked about any of this with Pat?" Pat could easily answer that question. His racing heart and clammy palms are as good an answer as any. He's sure Achilles shakes his head since Bri sighs loudly. "Don't you think that's sort of important? You don't just pop a proposal out of nowhere."

"You don't?" Achilles sounds genuinely confused. He probably got his entire idea of marriage from movies and television. His parents certainly didn't seem to be much help.

"You have to talk about the future first. Talk about what you both want." Achilles is quiet. He must be frustrated- he hates waiting, and he hates too much serious talk. Pat knows he prefers to wing it. After all, life seemed to go pretty smoothly for him without any prior planning. "If you guys are on the same page, then- and only then- maybe it's time."

Achilles grunts.

"You guys have all the time in the world," Bri reassures him gently. "Pat's not going anywhere. Trust me on that one."

"I don't want to lose him," Achilles says. It shatters Pat's heart to little pieces. How could he ever think Pat would leave him? They were in this for the long run no matter what. They'd grown together as individuals and as a couple, and Pat knew they still had so much more to learn.

It's what finally draws him from his corner. Pat scrunches his hair with his hands like he just came out of the shower as he walks to the kitchen. Bri sits across from Achilles at the table. As soon as she sees Pat, she kicks his boyfriend in the shin to alert him. Achilles turns, and Pat catches him stuffing something small into his pocket.

"There's coffee made if you want some," Bri says. So they didn't realize he'd been listening. Pat seems to be off the hook for now.

"Maybe later." Pat's too overwhelmed at the moment to be anywhere but with Achilles. He wraps an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders and slides into his lap. Achilles gives him a smile and starts to say good morning, but Pat is already kissing him sweetly.

Achilles doesn't kiss back at first. He's too surprised, probably since Pat is never really a functioning human being in the morning before his coffee. But it takes him no time to hold Pat's hips firmly in place and part his lips to welcome Pat's tongue inside. Pat licks into his mouth, tasting maple syrup and sugar and everything Achilles.

Pat loves him. He loves him with his entire being. If Achilles dropped on one knee right now, Pat knows he'd say yes despite any doubts or reservations he might have. Because they'd figure them out together no matter what.

Bri's groaning is what brings Pat back to reality. "Can I please just drink my coffee in peace?" she begs. "One morning where I'm not assaulted by you two? Please?"

Achilles scowls in response. "If you don't like it, don't come over."

"You invited me!"

"Then you should’ve turned down the invite!"

Bri and Achilles bicker about the logistics of sleepovers, but Pat couldn't be happier. He presses his forehead against Achilles' temple and smiles wide. His Achilles, forever.

#i didnt forget i PROMISE