i wish i were actually more on top of things tonight

⇁ nudes, not flowers | 02

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

pairing⇁Hoseok x Reader x Jungkook

genre⇁smut || fuckboi!au

warnings⇁voyeurism + exhibitionism, dom!junghope, power play?, dirty talk!!!, jealousy, demeaning names during sex, the threesome, & probably other warnings byE 

word count⇁10.4k 

You’re not supposed to fall for Jung Hoseok and his repertoire of awful pick-up lines—but you do. The problem is: he’s afraid of commitment, and bolts at the idea of settling down. After that, you decide to stay far away from fuckboys, but his friend decides to test your new found resolutions.

or : Jungkook wants to see how far he can push Hoseok until he snaps

 ⇁  01 | 02 (final)  sequel

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#teddy #auror #unresolved sexual tension

Prompts: @foxesandwands
Author: @queenofthyme

If you had told Harry Potter, back in his first year of Hogwarts, that he’d be sharing custody of a child with Draco Malfoy, he would have laughed. Loudly. But here he was, fifteen years later, and one of Teddy Lupin’s two legal guardians.

When Harry had accepted Remus’s offer to be Teddy’s godfather, although in the thick of war, he still never considered he’d actually have to raise someone else’s child. Teddy’s grandmother, Andromeda, had taken care of Teddy originally, which Harry was glad of - a 17 year old did not a father make. Still, he made sure to visit often. He knew what it was like to grow up without parents.

Harry wasn’t surprised that Draco visited just as often. Andromeda was his aunt after all, making Teddy his first cousin once removed.

Harry didn’t make a fuss the first time they’d bumped into each other at Andromeda’s, even though the last time they’d seen each other had been at Hogwarts, in the middle of a war, on opposite sides. He trusted Andromeda, and if she, as fiercely protective as she was, trusted Draco around Teddy, that was enough for Harry to do the same. Although, he still watched closely, curious to understand Draco’s behaviour.

Years past and Andromeda grew weary. She had already raised one child, and she was far too old to be chasing after another. As godfather, Harry knew it was his responsibility to take over as Teddy’s guardian, and no longer a teenager, he felt like he was ready. But Draco had insisted that it was he who should become guardian, as a blood relative.

They had argued like they might have back in their Hogwarts days, with taunts and snide jabs, even a  few hexes, before Andromeda put a stop to it. “How do either of you expect to raise a child if you still act like children yourselves?” She had yelled at them both, her words striking home as always.

Shared custody was Andromeda’s idea, but they both agreed it would be the best option for Teddy. He had already grown attached to both of them, and they both loved Teddy as if he was their own. On that, they were in agreement, if nothing else.

These days, they saw a lot of each other. Teddy made sure of that. They hadn’t quite reconciled all their differences, but they were civil, even polite to each other. They had to be for Teddy. But there was such a coldness to their interactions sometimes, that Harry wondered if it would be better if they just went at it, like they really wanted to. Said what they were really thinking.

Like that time when Draco dropped Teddy off at Harry’s office in the middle of a work day because he had an appointment, and Harry said, “Of course, no problem Draco. Please take your time,” but what he’d really wanted to say was, “You couldn’t have given me some warning so I could plan my day around this, you inconsiderate prat?”

Or the time Draco had taken Teddy on holiday and returned a day later than expected, and Harry said, “That’s okay, Draco, I’m glad you’re both back. I’m sure Teddy had a great time,” but what he’d really wanted to say was, “I thought you were both dead you selfish jerk, you never thought to owl ahead to let me know?”

Or last week when Draco had to reschedule their agreed custody routine because he had a date on Thursday night and Harry said, “Hope you have a lovely night,” but what he’d really wanted to say was, “I hope your date throws wine in your face and leaves you with the bill.”

It’s not like Teddy didn’t know what was going on. He was a perceptive kid. The whole situation was ridiculous.

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Top 11 Filthy Beauty Secrets for Youths

1.      Don’t rub at the delicate skin underneath your eyes while frantically trying to clean the dregs of last night’s maddened house party make-up out of your skin before going out into the world. This will cause the infinitesimal fibres of your body to tear, releasing the inexpressible self-loathing that is the unnecessary but gross counter-balance to the wild egotism of your drunken self, causing you to age faster than your teetotaller best friend.

2.      Stretch every night in a dark room. This releases the tensions of the day and relaxes your sinews for the troubled sleep and worrisome dreams to come, so that you can wake springing, without physical soreness, and amaze friends and colleagues with your youthful, swinging stride. The effect is almost more psychological than physical, and comes from knowing that even if your mind could not truly be at rest, at least your hamstrings slept in peace.

3.      Once a month, after midnight, restless: spend hours meditatively examining every inch of your body on the bathroom floor, and trialling the strength of your ability to do no harm. Consider, then refrain from pressing down with the weight of the universe on blocked pores, read the stories of missed opportunities and sliding door moments in the split ends of your hair, see the faded lightning bolts of your growth into your place in the world in the stretch marks and scars, smell the uneasy brine of your hidden parts, and layer cream upon cream on top of yourself, as if you are the ocean crashing white and fresh at the high tide mark. Wake up, and wonder where your time has gone.

4.      Get new sunglasses. Stare.

5.      You know how your skin always looks perfectly airbrushed in your early morning blurry bathroom visit (before your eyes have adjusted into the daytime and the realities of the day ahead have set in, accompanied with the dread and knowledge that you will be constantly observed, analysed and responsible for an array of unnatural and finicky tasks, while always maintaining a presentable surface impression despite a roaring need to run under your cool surface)? To fix this, let yourself roll heavy with sleep back into bed, alone all day, periodically going to the bathroom as needed. Within weeks, you will see all the damage of years in the sun and human company magically reverse.

6.      Go and see a doctor about what’s bothering you, even if you feel stupid or like it’s such a tiny thing. Worlds of relief and solutions open when you ask for scientific, rather than propagandised, help about those little bumps on your arms, these terrible recurring pains in your gut that nobody will speak of, or tell them how much trouble you are having with acne.

7.      When you have a big party to go to, or even a small one, or even a date in a bar, reserve half your Saturday to prep time. When I say that, I don’t mean reserve it for the motions of styling your hair, your eyes, your body, your lips and your fighting teeth and nails, though these acts may be integrated. Reserve half your day to become slow and seductive in anticipation, drawing yourself baths, or lighting up conversations in with your friends, reading half a chapter of that book you always mean to read, then five chapters of an online story you are addicted to, play beats on as loud as they will go and fling open all the doors while you roam like a wild creature from the last millennia around the rooms of your house. Prepare your own soul for the face you want to wear tonight.

8.      If you are having trouble with your sensitive, skin, particularly in gross sensitive places, try going commando for a while. Start with just in bed if this makes you uncomfortable, then if it’s working, graduate to day time. This may mean learning the art of the midi, the long camisole or the flowing pant. As a bonus, you learn how so much of what took for granted is not even necessary at all. The resulting look in your eyes will scare old friends and attract strangers with new ideas.

9.      Exfoliate with a scrap of muslin cloth and the sense of scrappy, sloughing peace that you found in the garden of a woman who is either your mother, or who you wish were your mother. Tell her you love her, even though maybe you don’t particularly feel the truth of love in that moment, because you will eventually feel it at a time when it is impossible to say out loud. The sense of security from having expressed love in this future-oriented way will give you a glow the following night. Replace the dead skin cells with a muddy mixture of expensive dirt and chemicals marketed by a company founded by a woman you are moderately sure is actually a hedge witch from 1605 in disguise. When you start looking, you will soon realise there are many such companies. Don’t let this stress you out. Choose the one you can afford best, with the smell that best lines up with that one time you fell in love with your best friend, and the packaging that looks best in your bathroom trash.

10.   Realise that when someone gives you a physical compliment, this is a fairly rude thing to do, and is usually a reflection of that person’s surprise at something about you that does not line up with their pre-conceived idea about you. In fact, many times the person is using the compliment as a Trojan horse to comment on the change, and does not even mean that new lipstick looks particularly nice, just that it is different from the nude lips you wear every other day. As a result, learn to style yourself in the way that you have road-tested through the process of catching your reflection in shop windows and realising how good you look, or noticing someone copying a particular element of your style, or the amount of pleasure looking at a particular Instagram post of yourself gives you. These are much better indicators of what physical choices suit you. Note that this type of road-testing usually requires refreshing when either you experience a change in climate, city, career or level of irony about being a warm body in an exploding universe where the only truth is entropy.

11.   Adapt or die. Die eventually anyway. Contribute the creative crumbling of your beauty to the garden of the women you love.

Joseph is not a bad person

Yeah, I said it, the thing that so many people in this fandom are not happy to admit. Joseph is not a bad person, not by a long shot. Hell, there are far more issues with Robert than there are with Joseph - the only real moral difference between the two is that Robert gets a happy ending, and Joseph does not. That is literally it.

“But Joseph cheated-” Yes, yes he did. Joseph cheated on Mary with Robert, and he cheats on Mary with the MC. However, there is clearly a lot more to the Joseph/Robert story than we know, so there’s nothing that we can glean from it other than speculation. Somehow, a lot of people like to speculate that Joseph is the bad person because…Robert said so? Why on Earth would we believe one person? Even Mary doesn’t say her husband is a bad man, and she has every right to do so as his wife. Robert is not reliable. Then, when Joseph cheats on Mary with the MC, the two of them are actively about to get a divorce.

That’s it. Those three things, the two instances of cheating and Robert saying that Joseph isn’t a good person is literally all we have to say that Joseph is a bad person. That is it. The cult ending is still not in the game, and literally everything else is entirely speculation. There is no other evidence saying Joseph is a bad person.

“He lost track of his kids-” At a park, in the morning, in a safe neighborhood. Yeah sure it’s a little squiffy, but if we’re going to get on Joseph’s case for that then we should also be yelling at Mary for not only losing track of Crish, but completely disregarding her husband’s concern for the toddler.

Joseph actively gets upset if you lie on his route, Joseph actively tries his best to make sure that his youth party goes well, that his children are happy. He encourages his children’s weird behaviors and appears to have a good understanding of his autistic son as well. He spends time to create a man cave for him and the MC to relax and joke in, he supports Damien and all the other dads despite their gender and sexual alignment. He actively tries to help Hugo with Ernest and doesn’t lose his temper at the clearly troubled kid. There is so much good to this man, and this fandom is reducing him to an abusive manipulator based on no evidence other than “Robert said so”. The devs themselves have said before that you can’t take everything in this game at face value, and Robert is friends with Mary. I go into this more on another one of my posts, but Robert only ever sees Mary upset, so he only ever hears that Joseph is at fault. Is it so hard to imagine that maybe Robert is over reacting because he’s being over defensive of his friend? Is it really?

And as for Mary - again, Mary never says her husband is a bad man and, honestly, she’s more at fault for the shitty place their marriage is in than Joseph. That might be a touchy subject for some, but I’m serious. Mary goes out drinking most nights, she flirts with almost every man she meets, staying out until God knows when having ‘fun’ with Robert. Neil and Robert may insist that she isn’t cheating, but uh, flirting is still cheating. It is still 100% cheating on your partner to go out and flirt endlessly with another person. It is not okay, and will never be okay. She also lowkey makes fun of his religion, is obviously super flippant about caring for her children (she let her kids watch an R rated movie, and didn’t seem to care one lick about Crish), and is incredibly passive aggressive. Hell, at some points in the game, she is just aggressive towards the MC and Robert has to tell her to back off.

Mary is not a bad person, nor is Robert, but that’s kind of my point. None of these people are bad people, but somehow this fandom has turned Mary and Robert into pure cinnamon rolls and Joseph into a literal demon because…I don’t know. I really don’t know. There’s even a comic going around that keeps getting reblogged with tags like “yeah, fuck Joseph!” “Joseph is so cruel to Mary” “I wish Robert and Mary would get together and leave Joseph”. These tags are incredibly upsetting because of how short minded these people are. The comic has Mary coming home late at night with Robert practically shouting a song at the top of their lungs. People somehow see this as harmless fun and Joseph is totally just ruining it by being a bad husband…But seriously?

First of all, walking around incredibly drunk and screaming songs in the middle of the night is public indecency and you could have the cops called on you for disturbing the peace. Would you be happy if your drunk neighbor woke you up at night? What if you had a baby, like Craig?

And, secondly…How on Earth is Joseph the bad one in the situation for ‘stopping their fun’? Humor me for just a second if you’re having trouble understanding me. For just one second, imagine Mary is a man. We’ll say his name is Marty. Marty has a wife named Josephine. Marty goes out most nights to get incredibly drunk with his female friend, Robin. Josephine knows and has seen how Marty gets when he’s drunk, she knows how Marty flirts with the girls at the bar, sitting next to them, wrapping his arm around them, getting them to buy him drinks with a wink and a smile. Josephine has to put the four kids to bed each night - the autistic one, the hyper ones, and the toddler. Josephine waits up for her husband to come home, nervous for her safety, and nervous that…What if tonight was the night she brought another woman home? Or, came back in the morning smelling of another woman’s perfume? Then, she hears the tell tale singing of Marty and Robin on the way home, followed shortly after by the Crish’s cry and a light across the street turning on…

Does any of that sound even remotely okay? Could you imagine if the situation where truly reversed like that, with a husband getting hopelessly drunk most nights, flirting with women, and coming home late? Do you still think that he is totally at fault for being angry that his wife came home drunk? Honestly, there is no difference between the people telling Joseph to go fuck himself for ruining his wife’s ‘fun’ and the men I’ve seen my father hang around with joking about how my own mother was his ‘ball and chain’ for the exact same reason. There is a good reason my mom and dad are not together anymore.

Mary is clearly an alcoholic. Even if she’s not an angry drunk, I’ve known plenty of people and read plenty of stories of children who were raised with drunk parents. You usually only hear about the father, so again if you’re having trouble understanding why Mary’s alcoholism is an issue then imagine she’s Marty. Imagine Marty as a father who is constantly drunk or with a drink in hand, a father who accidentally lets you watch movies that you know you shouldn’t watch, a father who just waves you away and ignores you, a father who disappears every night…Why is mommy the only one home at night? Why are they fighting? Is it your fault?

That got a little heavy, but at this point I just want this to stop. I am so tired of going into the Joseph tag and finding nothing but hate post after hate post after hate post. I am so tired of seeing posts blaming Joseph for Mary’s alcoholism and Robert’s…Issues when we all know damn well that can’t possibly be the reason. Robert was a terrible person in his past and he’s upset about it, and we really don’t know what’s going on with Mary. We don’t, sans speculation. End of story. There is no way we can reliably blame Joseph for everything, and it’s even getting to the point where the anti-Joseph posts are actually becoming abusive to Joseph using Mary AND Robert as the assailants.

tl;dr: Joseph is not a bad man, Mary and Robert are not flawless, the way Mary acts is seriously problematic, and some of stuff you guys are posting is actually kinda hurtful. Can we reel a back a little?

Bet || R.M.

Originally posted by alltimewolf

Word Count: 2095

Pairing: Ross!Reggie x reader

Summary: Chuck bets Reggie five hundred dollars to hook up with you, his tutor, and the outcome leaves you heartbroken.

Warnings: smut, fingering, cussing, unprotected sex, Reggie being a complete fuckboy, complete filth

Requested by anon:

“Hey Can you do a Reggie imagine where his bet that he couldn’t get the reader to go out with him. The reader is really pretty and awkward. So he tries and eventually falls in love with her. With a really fluffy ending. I know it’s cliché, haha.”

I kind of strayed off from the request, hope that’s okay! I might do a second part where it’s fluffier though!

Masterlist // Part Two


It was a normal day at Riverdale High. Reggie was walking down the hallway with his boys at his side like they always do in the morning. Reggie, on the outside, was the definition of a fuckboy. He was the new captain of the football team which inflated his ego even more and when he went partying, he went home with a different girl every time. You didn’t know him personally, but he had that reputation and his friends were the same way.

“Hey, Mantle,” Chuck said approaching Reggie at his locker, and placed his hand on Reggie’s shoulder before continuing, “Where were you last night? You missed a wild night of 7 minutes of heaven at the party last night.”

“Damn, I wish I was there. My mom is making me go to tutoring lessons, or I have to quit the football team.” Reggie scoffed, rolling his eyes as he closed his locker and leaned against it.

Chuck laughed lightly, “You should have skipped it last night. Cheryl’s party would have been ten times better than listening to some nerd go off by algebra.”

“I don’t know about that man; my tutor is pretty hot.” Reggie looked up and bit his lip trying to hold in a smirk.

“Oh, I get it now, Reggie has a thing for smart girls. Who is she?” Chuck inquired while slapping Reggie on the shoulder, laughing.

Reggie said your name and Chuck gave him a look, “Really, I heard she is hard to get with like she has never hooked up with one of the guys before.” Chuck was saying that you hadn’t shown up in their Playbook which was peculiar since most girls at Riverdale High have shown up at least once.

“I don’t know about that dude. You should have seen the way she was on me last night. We didn’t go very far, but I don’t think it would be hard to tap that.” Reggie was straight up lying to Chuck. You had not done anything at all, and you were not all over him like he was letting on. You were so wrapped up in the material you were trying to teach him, that you had just brushed off his flirts. This, of course, hurt Reggie that you had shown little interest in him, so it led him to lie about it to make himself feel better.

“Really, Mantle?” Chuck raised his eyebrow with a look of challenge in his eyes, “Well, I bet you can’t go all the way by the end of the football season.”

“Are really doubting me, Chuck? That hurts my feelings.” Chuck shrugged in response with the same look of mischief in his eyes, “Okay, I’ll take that bet, but when I do, you owe me five hundred dollars.”

“Deal Mantle,” Chuck said in confidence as he looked Reggie in the eyes.

That encounter had been seven days ago and ever since Reggie had been basically attached to your hip; he followed you around school and sat beside you in every class you had together, and you had no idea why he is suddenly being so clingy.

You were the opposite of the girls Reggie would go for. You were the quiet, shy girl who would sit in the front of the class eager to learn. You never went to parties or drank or even wore revealing clothing. You were the definition of a good girl.

However, you weren’t naïve. You knew when Reggie was coming on to you, and it left you flustered to no end, but you never let it show. Whenever he leaned against you to point at something in the textbook, your heart started to beat a million beats per second. Your body was betraying you. You had no wish to get with Reggie, but whenever he put his hand on your knee in class, you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

This tutoring session was no different than usual, however, Reggie was coming on to you strong. When you walked into Reggie’s empty house, he led you into his bedroom which was strange because you usually study in the kitchen.

You sat down on Reggie’s bed and started to open your textbook, “I was thinking that we could start with number-“

“Actually, tonight can we start with Chemistry” He inquired with a sly look on his face.

“Oh, I didn’t bring my chem books, but if you have yours then, of course, we could.” You were slightly confused as Reggie’s mom said that he only needed help in math.

Reggie scooted closer to you so your thighs were touching and his face was a couple of inches from yours, “No, I’m not talking about the subject, but the chemistry between you and me.”

The combination of Reggie’s smirk and his words had you completely shocked and your mouth was slightly open with fragments of words coming out.

“C’mon I see the way you look at me when I scoot closer to you. I know you feel something between us.” Reggie was inching his face closer with every word that left his mouth and you weren’t stopping him.

Reggie stopped centimeters from your lips and you felt his ragged breath fan against your face, “Don’t tell me don’t.” With that, you crashed your lips against his.

His lips were soft and plump against yours, and the kiss was full of urgency. Reggie swiped his tongue on your bottom lip before you opened your mouth and his tongue plunged in, exploring every inch. When Reggie finally pulled away, you were panting, but he seemed unaffected as he still had a smug smirk on his face.

He pushed you down on his bed and climbed on top of you while connecting his lips to your neck. You arched you back into the bed and let out a soft moan as his lips traveled to your sweet spot on the base of your neck.

“Babygirl, I’m going to make you feel so good.” He hummed as he pulled the collar of your classic white t-shirt lower to expose the top of your breasts.

You lifted off the bed slightly to pull your fitted shirt off your body so you were left in a nude lace bra. If you knew this would be happening tonight, you would have put on sexier underwear, but you were glad you decided to wear matching panties even if they weren’t the sexiest pair you owned.

“Damn, you’re so hot.” Reggie hummed against your skin as he dragged his lips down your torso. He tugged on the top of your jeans, signaling you to lift your butt up to help him undress you. You did as he wanted but pouted, “You’re wearing too much clothing.”

Reggie laughed under his breath and pulled his shirt over his head and gave you a look as to say, “Is this better?” You shook your head as you leaned up and started to work at his belt.

“No princess, not yet,” Reggie said with a teasing tone and pushed you down on the bed.

His lips attached to the top of your breasts again and the way he was sucking on them, there would surely be bruises there the next day. You laced your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly and Reggie let out a deep moan in response.

Reggie kept peppering kisses up and down your torso, but as soon as he would go down farther, he would stop and go back up. “Reggie, stop teasing me, I need you.” You whined.

“Use your words, tell me what you want.” Reggie coaxed as he brought his head up to yours to look in your eyes.

“Reggie,” You pleaded but he gave you a serious look, “I want your fingers.”

“Where?” Reggie teased, “Where do you want my fingers?”

You squirmed around and gave him a look of pure need before stating, “In my cunt. I need your fingers in my cunt please, Reggie.”

“Your wish is my command,” Reggie said biting his bottom lip before pulling your panties to the side and plunging one finger into your soaking cunt. You let out a low grunt as he went knuckle deep. When the grunt left your lips, Reggie added another finger, and you moaned his name loudly.

He started to pump his fingers and you felt a small knot form in the pit of your stomach, “Tell me how this feels baby.”

“It feels fucking amazing, don’t stop, please.” You stuttered as you couldn’t think straight with pure pleasure clouding your brain.

Reggie bent his fingers up into your cunt and he hit your sweet spot. Your body jerked up as he assaulted that spot and a mix of cuss words and his name left your mouth.

“Fuck, Reg, I’m close.” You panted and you barely finished your sentence before you felt an emptiness where his warm fingers were. You started to whine as you opened your eyes to see Reggie fully exposed and on top of you.

“I want you to come around my cock tonight, Babygirl,” Reggie said in a dark tone before lining himself up with your entrance.

He looked into your eyes almost to ask if you were ready before slowly pushing his large member into your cunt. Your mouth fell open as he stretched your walls out, and he didn’t start moving for a few seconds to let you adjust to his size.

He started out moving slow and as your moans got louder, it encouraged him to go faster. He started to slam into you and you swore you could see stars. You could tell he was also feeling the same intense pleasure as his eyebrows were scrunched and he had a look of concentration on his face.

“I’m close Reggie, fuck.” You moaned and placed your head into the crook of his neck.

A couple more thrusts later, Reggie was as close as you were as he became more vocal, saying your name and how much you felt good wrapped around him.

“Come for me baby, shit.” He mumbled into your ear and his words sent you over the edge. An intense feeling of pleasure took over and your orgasm pulsed through your whole body.

Not soon after had Reggie also let go into you. He continued to sloppily thrust into you so you both could ride out your orgasms.

Reggie rolled off your body and laid next to you, out of breath, “Fuck, that was amazing.”

You smiled to yourself as you let out a hum in agreement.


The next day, you were glowing. You never had felt so good; you were having a good hair and skin day and woke up in a great mood. The only slightly bad thing was that you had left your textbooks at Reggie’s house because you weren’t focused on your books at all when you left his house at midnight last night.

You decided to find Reggie before class started to see if he had brought your books with him to school. You went straight to the boy’s locker room since that’s where all the football players went before class started.

However, you stopped yourself before walking in when you heard Reggie’s voice.

“Where is my five hundred dollars?” Reggie said to someone you couldn’t see.

“What? No way you hit that this quickly.” It was Chuck Clayton, one of Reggie’s best friends. Why did Chuck owe him that much money, you thought?

“Dude, all I had to do was say some shit like “don’t you feel the connection between us” and she was putty in my hands.” Reggie laughed and you felt your heart break, but couldn’t bring yourself to stop listening.

“Damn, Mantle. Was she any good? Should I go for her next?” Chuck said and you felt a tear fall down your cheek.

“She was basically begging me to fuck her, and when I finally did, she was tight as fuck. Honestly, 10/10 would fuck again. She’s still my tutor, so I think actually might.” You heard both boys laugh and footsteps heading toward the door.

At the last second, you ran down the hallway, tears blurring your vision.  You didn’t care if anyone saw you crying, you were so upset with yourself that you had fallen for Reggie’s tricks.

Reggie had put a price tag of a measly five hundred dollars on you and you played into his trap. He was five hundred dollars richer and you were completely blindsided and heartbroken.

a/n- school is officially out for me so expect a lot more imagines for the next couple of months. Also, don’t forget I’m always taking requests so send some to my inbox if you want something specific! I think I might start trying to upload twice a week, once on Sunday and on Thursday. One day would be an imagine and the other would be part of a fic! So send me what you think of this schedule and also how you liked this imagine because I love when I get your feedback!

love thy neighbor (1)

Originally posted by kookieminnies

characters: jungkook x reader, jimin 

genre: smut, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: language, roughness, smut, oral, mxm references, 

Jeon Jungkook was a pain in your ass but, you would never wish the crushing pain of heartbreak on anyone.

a/n: basically,, u live in an apartment. jungkook lives above u and is loud and annoying. then things happen. i’ve been working on this one for a whileee and i’m actually proud of it so i hope u guys like it :)) there are TWO parts idk when two is being posted but im working!! leave me feedback plz


Your right eye seemed to be twitching again—the second time within an hour. Your fingers harshly dug into the side of your phone, putting your volume as high as it could go. The soothing beats and vocals from your favorite artist—that seemed to always get you through your all nighters—did nothing to block out the loud footsteps and steady tempo from above you. You groaned, slamming your pencil down on top of your notebook, a few flashcards scattering from the impact.

As often as this happened you still couldn’t get used to it. The college aged boy living above you seemed to always have enough energy to run a marathon—which is what you expected he did during his free time—always stomping around and blasting a mixture of music ranging in different genres.

The first time you were disturbed by his loud music and heavy feet was a week after you moved into the cozy apartment. You were trying to catch a nap after hours of unpacking but every time your eyes closed, a booming bass would force them open. After an internal debate with yourself, you marched upstairs, banging on the door like a madwoman. When the door swung open, you weren’t expecting a man so handsome to answer.

You could recall that day so well. He was wearing a white tee—something you noticed he wore quite often— blue jeans and had a pair of bright neon socks covering his feet. His eyes were large and a warm mocha brown, almost distracting you from the sweet bunny smile plastered on his face.

Keep reading

swipe right [smut]

A;N: Things and people you meet are not always what they seem. 

Pairing: StilesxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Explicit Content.

Word count: .9,612

Listen to me.

Originally posted by stilinskisvoid

Keep reading

instant gratification 2.5 (m)

Originally posted by flippitt

➾ 10.6k 

➾warnings: smut, pregnancy mention (as applies to IG2)

➾jk’s POV of IG2 as heavily requested!

instant gratification 01 | 02


This party sucks. 

His phone screen is dark and it mocks him even as he pastes on a smile for the girl currently cuddling into his side. What was her name again? Ye Eun? Eunha? 

Fuck if he knows.

All he knows is that you’re not replying to his texts, and he needs to get drunk asap before he does something stupid like call you. The girl he currently has his arm around beckons to her friend from a distance away, and Jeongguk tries his best to keep his eyes off her tits in her low cut tube dress as she approaches with a giggle.

“Jeongguk, right?” Girl number 2 sidles up to his unoccupied side and he immediately feels her breasts against his arm. They’re firm to the touch, which either means that they’re entirely fake, or that there’s enough padding in her bra for it to be a bulletproof vest.

Either way, yours feel a million times better.

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The Labyrinth Finale

Originally posted by baebsaes

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU 

Pairing: Reader/Jimin ft. all the members

Length: 4.7k

Summary: Looking back on your past, your life has never been anything out of the ordinary. Although your parents had left you on one mysterious night, leaving you little to no explanations, you live out the rest of your years residing in a new town under the custody of your aunt. That is, until you return to your hometown to investigate the whereabouts of your parents during your senior year in high school. It was that fateful decision that led you to find a boy collapsed on your front porch one night, wounds gaping and life fading when your entire life is spun out of control. Somehow being dragged into a life of crimes in the underground business of his, you discover the twisted secrets hidden behind the world you thought you had known all along. 

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 Finale


A/N: And here we are! 1 year and 7 months later, we have finally arrived at the final chapter of The Labyrinth. There have been countless times when I just wanted to discontinue this series and quit writing overall because of the lack of an audience, and yet I persevered because this was a story I wanted to tell and it is a work of mine I hold dear to me. But alas, more and more people started to read this massive series, and before I knew it, the reason I continued to write this series was not only for me, but also for you, my readers. So thank you so much, because YOU guys are one of the reasons why I’ve been able to learn the things that I did from writing The Labyrinth. It saddens me that this is where it all ends, but I’d like to take this time to thank you all, those from the beginning, middle, and even future, for the endless support and I love you all so very much. Without further ado, here is the final chapter of The Labyrinth! // 01/29/16 ~ 08/01/17


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coffee in the morning ;

“I could do that,” he states a minute later, and he nods his heads a few times as if it’s some sort of confirmation as he mulls it over, and you look at him like you’re confused.

“Do what?” You question, and he blinks at you.

“Be your boyfriend,” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and it makes your heart beat a bit faster.

“You mean fake boyfriend.”

or

Harry and Y/N work at a coffee shop and he’s never been a good actor

12k+, fluff, smut, ripping of panties mid-fuck, and just a dash of angst

OKAAAY SO, i’ve been dead around here because i’ve been working on this for a few days now! special shoutout to @mermaidsonships for letting me yell about apple (that’s what we named the girlie in this amongst our texts) and harry as well as bounce ideas off of u! i love u sister! i’ve got a fixation of fake bf harry + harry being rly teasing so if u combine those 2 things u get this big mess of a thing! i hope u enjoy!

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Mr and Mrs Skarsgard - Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Title: Mr and Mrs Skarsgard

Pairing: Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Warnings: Slight angst

Summary: Imagine your best friend, and love of your life, Bill is getting married to another woman and asks for your help in the preparations of the wedding, which ends up with you being the bridesmaid too. You have plans for once the wedding day is over, but what Bill confesses to you changes everything. (Happy Ending)

When imagining planning and going to your best friend’s wedding you always thought you’d be smiling as bright as you could while watching them about to start their life with their significant other. Hearing them exchange vows would make you tear up because of pure happiness and when it came to you making a small speech for them or simply proposing and congratulating them you’d be able to share their own bliss. You’d feel a small pang at having to say a small goodbye but you knew it wouldn’t be the end so it would all be more sweet than bitter. But then again you had never imagined that said best friend would be the love of your life, had you?

And so this day, which you had imagined sometimes, was completely different for you.

You had seen it coming, you had practically seen him fall in love with her and you had tried to keep the smile on your face mostly for him. You had endured it plenty of times before, with both the serious and non-serious relationships of his. You were the best friend, the wing-woman, it was bound to happen, much like you falling in love with Bill, but you had never thought it would turn out to be so hard for you. Just like your feelings for him. He always said you were the most important woman of all to him, the one he would never abandon and you were partially glad about it because he not once had made you feel replaced. But the thing was that your heart no longer ached to be just a friend to him, and watching him feel things for other women that he didn’t for you was a nightmare coming true.

To say it felt like a ton of bricks had been dumped on you would be a huge understatement when Bill, said best friend and love of your life, had not only said he proposed to his girlfriend but she had also said yes. Of course she had, you would have as well in her place, but for a completely different reason. You knew Bill in ways she didn’t and you loved him for more reasons that weren’t this obvious and were more true, but she once more obviously had no idea about. You loved him for him, all of him. And that was the only reason why you made yourself endure this as well, it wasn’t as if you could change it. He was happy, you couldn’t take that away from him when that’s what you always wished for him.

“Everything looks so great, (Y/n), my brother is so lucky to have you in his life.” Alexander breathed out as he took a look around him “He’s be so lost without you.”

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Special Places

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 3017

Warnings: Smut. One NSFW gif

Anon asked “Can you do a Bucky Smut fic where the reader just moved back to town and is reunited with Bucky after not seeing each other for a long time and they’re old best friends and always had feelings for each other they just never acted on them because they were scared. Sorry is that doesn’t make sense!! You’re literally the only author that makes the best smut stories ever because you use gifs with them😂🙈”

A/N: This was fun to write considering a had a similar thing happen…apart from the sex part. Let me know if you want to be tagged here.

Originally posted by gothicclownqueen

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Prompts List

List of prompts that can be requested (w/ or w/o a requested person/character) - [most of these are prompts I found on pinterest in the writing prompts tag - will be adding prompts continuously] - Also, when requesting please take this into consideration: https://fictionpants.tumblr.com/post/167397538527/just-a-quick-note-about-requests

1. “I apologise in advance for the inconvenience my murder is going to have on your life.”

2. “I hate you.”
“Why? I’m lovely.”

3. “Murder wasn’t on today’s agenda.”
“It’s not on anyone’s.”
“No, it’s on mine, just not until next Thursday.”

4. “Hold on, you died.”
“Yeah, well it didn’t stick.”

5. “This is my life now. I have climbed this hill and now I will die upon it.”
“Shut up. We’ve only been hiking for twenty minutes.”

6. “She’s crying, what do I do?”
“Go comfort her.”
“How do I do that?”
“Start with hugs.”
“With what?”

7. “What’s our exit strategy?”
“Our what?”
“Oh my god, we’re all going to die.”

8. “I’m going to need chicken blood, salt, five candles, and a bottle of vodka.” “Vodka? For the spell?”
“No, that’s just to make me feel better about ripping a hole in the universe.”

9. “Are you clinically insane or incredibly annoying?”
“I don’t know, probably both.”

10. “I saved your lives.”
“How? By stealing our freedom? Our minds? Our identity?”

11. “It takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did.”

12. “I’m getting really tired of pretending I’m not evil.”

13. “Did you just agree with me?”
“Oh I wish I could take-”
“Nope! You said it! No take-backs!”

14. “It’s a long story.”
“You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time.”

15. “I regret a lot of things. Having this conversation tops the list.”

16. “I had a thought.”
“Oh no.”
“I swear it’s a good one this time!’

17. “FBI, open the door!”
“No. It’s cooler when you break in.”

18. “Do you think they remember you?”
“I sure hope not after what I did the last time I was here.”
“What did you do?”
“You’ll find out.”

19. “You look…”
“Beautiful, I know. Can we move on?”

20. “You scared me!”
“Well, I am naturally terrifying.”

21. “I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”

22. “I’d take a bullet for you, you know that.”
“You’re immortal, and I’m going to kill you if you keep saying that.”

23. “You really have no clue who I am?”
“You’d think the confused looks and blank stare would have answered that for you.”

24. “I am way too sober for this.”

25. “You don’t strike me as a professional criminal.”
“That’s what makes me so good at it.”

26. “I don’t think of you as a protector. More like a distraction.”

27. “We have five people trying to kill us right now, what are we supposed to do?”
“Actually, it’s more like eight.”
“Oh, sorry I wasn’t specific enough!”

28. “If you could even comprehend where I’ve come from, you would be terrified of me.”

29. “I saved your life!”
“You pushed me off a building.”

30. “You know we’re not all born with the ability to throw fireballs, right?”

31. “How do we keep getting into these situations?”
“Eleven years of friendship and I still don’t know.”

32. “Did you hear that scream?”
“Yes, I’m the one who screamed.”

33. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?”
“Yes.”
“What if I just break his nose a little?”

34. “You are remarkably well behaved tonight. What did you do?”

35. “You’re-you’re crushing my spleen.”
“You don’t even know where your spleen is.”

36. “I’m no detective, of course, but I think this dead body might not be alive anymore.”

37. “Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge.”
“Can I pick?”

38. “The real treasure was the memories we made along the way.”
“I almost died!”
“Ah yes, that was my fondest memory.”

39. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!”
“And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!”

40. “Hey, I didn’t kill anyone today!”
“What do you want? A gold star?”

41. “I hate you.”
“Why? I’m lovely.”

42. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-”
“At least a twenty.”

43. “Literally everything about this is illegal.”

44. “Seven billion people in the world, and you’re overreacting because we killed one man.”
“But-”
“Seven. Billion. People. Now quit the complaining and drink your smoothie.”

45. “It’s not my birthday.”
“It’s definitely your birthday.”
“Give me a calendar. It’s not and I will prove it to – oh. Never mind. Happy birthday to me.”

46. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you want to kill me right now?”
“I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties.”

47. “I can fix that.”
“I’m calling a professional.”
“I’m a professional.”
“A more professional, professional.”

48. “What’s the word for that infestation of tiny creatures over there?”
“Those are children. That’s a school.”

49. “I have a concern.”
“Just one?”
“No, but I didn’t think you’d let me speak my piece if I told you how many I actually have.”

50. “Why are you glaring at me?”
“I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust.”

51. “If we die, I’m going to spend the rest of our afterlife reminding you that this was all your fault.”
“That’s cool, I wouldn’t mind having company while being a ghost.”

52. “What are you so afraid of?”
“You.”

53. “What is that THING in your backpack?”
“It’s my new pet dragon.”
“Dragons aren’t real!”
“Then why is there one in my backpack?”

54. “I hate the sight of blood.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t kill for a living.”

55. “All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.”

56. “Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?”
“Oh god, we’re going to die, aren’t we?”
“It’s a Tuesday, I know how to restrain myself.”
“You absolutely do not.”

57. “I don’t give a damn.”
“You give so many damns they’re visible from SPACE.”

58.  “It’ll be easy. You just have to seduce them.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’m about as seductive as a cabbage.”

59. “You’re not as evil as people think you are.”
“No. I’m much worse.”

60. “That’s a terrifyingly accurate drawing of us.”
“It’s almost like I’m good at what I do.”

61. “You have no power over me.”
“You sure about that?”

62. “This isn’t good.”
“How can you tell?”
“See how they’re slowly surrounding us? And they all have guns and knives and I think one guy is carrying a machete?”

63. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”
“Actually he’s right in front of you.”

64. “I’m not a thief. I’m just really good at acquiring things that aren’t mine.”

65. “I’m not completely human anymore. Remember that next time you want to punch me in the face.”

66. “Is that blood?”
“No?”
“That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”

67. “I never stood a chance, did I?”
“That’s the sad part – you did once.”

68. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

69. “I’m not going to leave you.”

70. “Everything is okay.”

71. “I’m going to protect you.”

72. “I believe in you.”

73. “Do you feel guilty? Like, at all?”
“I don’t have time to feel guilty. And neither do you.”

74. “Stop that!”
“Stop what?”
“Doing that thing with your face when you’re happy. It’s making me nauseous.”

75. “What are you doing?”
“…Eating.”
“We’re being held hostage and you decide to raid the kitchen?”
“They didn’t say the fridge was off limits.”

76. “Is that a dead body?”
“Maybe?”
“It is. I can see it right in front of me.”
“I promise I’ll clean it up before dinner.”

77. “If we’re going to get out of here, we’re going to have to work together. After that, we can go back to killing each other.”
“Oh, fine.”

78. “That’s not funny.”
“I thought it was.”
“You don’t count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.”

79. “Do we need wine?”
“No, I need wine, you need to put your pants back on.”
“But life is so freeing without them.”
“Pants. On. Now.”

80. “Can you please go be stupid somewhere that’s away from me?”

81. “I feel like I’m being stabbed.”
“How do you even know what it feels like to be stabbed?”

82. “Will you be quiet?”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Well stop thinking so loud.”

83. “Did you get my note?”
“Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping.”

84. “You’re a psychopath.”
“I prefer creative.”

85. “Why do people keep trying to put this blanket on me?”
“Because you’re in shock.”
“That doesn’t mean I need a blanket. It means I need booze.”

86. “Oh no.”
“What is it? What happened? Who died?”
“I think I just felt an emotion.”
“You have GOT to be kidding me.”

87. “When all this is over, I want my sanity back.”

88. “That’s definitely not true.”
“Of course it is. I read it on Wikipedia.”

89. “You forgot me.”
“It was an accident.”

90. “Why do you keep risking your life? To prove a point?”
“Yes.”

91. “I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties of your life.”
“You are the WORST at this comfort thing.”

92. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”
“What?”
“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.”

93. “Look, if you want to conjure some demon spawn from the great beyond, that’s all fine and dandy. Just wait for me to leave before you start.”

94. “Just calm down!”
“My leg just dematerialised and you want me to calm down!?”

95. “You know what they say, panicking burns a shit ton of calories.”
“Who even says that?”
“Me. Just now.”

96. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be in the corner, having another existential crisis.”

97. “Oh my god, I had the exact same dream!”
“Really?”
“Are you crazy? Of course I didn’t.”

98. “I need to go de-stress.”
“Where are you going?”
“To demolish the living room.”

99. “I think I’m having a feeling. How do I make it stop?”

100. “I’m bitter and complicated. It’s one of my charms.”
“I don’t think you know what that word means. Or how to count.”

101. “I don’t know what the protocol is for revealing your secret identity so, hi? Surprise?”

102. You always think you know what you’d do when faced with the end of the world. Me? I went home and took a nap.

103. “Damn it, why aren’t you obeying the laws of physics?”

104. “I’d hug you right now, but you’re covered in evidence. And I also really don’t want to.”
“Evidence is a really nice euphemism for blood, gore and guts.”
“You’re totally missing the point. Do you know how pissed I am at you right now?”

105.  “This way is more efficient.”
“This way is going to get us killed.”

106. “You’re not my favourite person today.”
“I’m not your favourite person on any day.”

Ghost Boyfriend

I’ve had a couple of anons asking for a lovely ghost boyfriend and I was very excited to take this on. Please keep sending requests! I get so excited to see so many ideas.


No one had lived in the house for a long time after your grandfather passed your grandmother moved in with you and your mother. It had been left alone for years until your grandmother handed you the keys, telling you that you could have the place.

It was old, something your grandfather had inherited from his grandfather and so on and so on. As you stand in the empty doorway, noticing that with years of abandonment there was more work to be done to this place than you had thought. You sigh heavily and set your things down, walking through the house to see what there was to it.

Most of the rooms were empty, a few had furniture covered and wrapped in plastic from when your grandmother left. The kitchen was nice and everything it still worked so you chose to sleep in the bedroom closest to it since the rest of the house seemed useless until you get to figure out what needed to be done.

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ink-stained apologies // reggie mantle soulmate au pt2

Ink-Stained Apologies (Part two to Ink-Stained Skin)

Ink-Stained Masterlist

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Reggie thinks he’s found his soulmate. (Y/N) insists that it’s not her.

masterlist

“It’s you!” he exclaimed, rushing over to her.

“I don’t know what you’re on about, Reginald. I found my soulmate a long time ago.”

“Oh, really?” He smirked at the girl “Who is it? Don’t try to say that it’s Keller because we all know he’s Moose’s soulmate.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to you, Reggie. If you don’t mind, I’ve got a lesson to get to.” (Y/N) forced a smile before walking off.

Almost as if it was instinct he followed her, quick on her heels. “Don’t bullshit me, (L/N). Prove to me that I’m not your soulmate.”

“Reggie, I really don’t want to disappoint you, I’m so sorry that I’m not her.”

“Then prove it to me. Write something, pinch yourself. Whatever, just prove it to me because God knows how long I’ve been looking for my soulmate.”

(Y/N) frowned, looking up at Reggie. He looked down at her, seeing the remorse in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Reginald, but you’ll find her soon.”

Reggie watched as (Y/N) walked off, feeling more determined to figure out who his soulmate was. He wasn’t going to give up that easy.

There were three moments of weakness that led to (Y/N) almost revealing herself to Reggie. The first was when he wrote to her on his birthday, claiming that his parents had argued and that his birthday wasn’t the same as when he was younger.

‘i know u dont reply but its my birthday :D’

‘my mom and dad argued in front of all my friends, soulmate. it was so embarrassing! i want it to be like my eighth birthday :(’

Looking down at her arm and the pen that she held in it, she fought her urge to reply to his message written on the back of her left forearm. She could feel the sadness that ran through his body. She could feel the pain in his chest as he wrote the words on his arm.

“Mom, he’s hurt” she frowned “He’s not allowed to be sad. It’s his birthday. Mom, it really hurts. I can’t breathe.”

“(Y/N), sweetheart, you’re worried for him. It’s what comes with soulmates.” Her mother paused for a while “You and your soulmate are not only soul-bound but you’re also physically bound to each other. You have a rare bond and never, ever take it for granted because it’ll, one day, be useful to you.”

The second time it happened was during freshman year, when Reggie had sprained his wrist so bad during training that the pain of it had woken (Y/N) up from her nap. She held her wrist as if it was on the brink of snapping off, fighting the tears back. Reggie had written multiple apologies, her arm was practically covered in his messy writing.

‘oh my god! im so sorry, soulmate.’

‘im so so SO sorry!’

’:( i hope i didnt hurt u too much :(’

She felt the pain that rushed up his arm with every apology he wrote. She picked up a pen that lay on top of the books that sat next to her on her bed, clicking it before dropping it and walking towards the bathroom to erase the proof of her soulmate.

The following day, she approached him, with all intentions of wishing him a speedy recovery, in the hallway as he stood leaning against his locker. She noticed and felt that his arm had been wrapped up tightly in a bandage or maybe it was just the pressure of the bandage on her own arm “Twinning?” he raised his eyebrow at her, as he noticed “What did you do?”

“Oh, I-I, kinda, fell down the stairs?”

Reggie let out a small laugh “Is that a question or is that what actually happened?”

“God, I cannot stand you, Reginald. Hope your arm gets better soon. Don’t want number fourteen off the team for too long.”

“Was that a compliment? You know what, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He smirked as she let out a scoff

The final time was on her birthday. No one had remembered it and she was sat in her room wallowing in self pity. There was no writing on her skin, nothing. Not even Reggie could feel the emotion running through her veins. She picked up a pen and pressed it against her skin, ready to write:

‘hi, can we talk???’

but instead she dropped it and crawled into her bed, pushing the space bar on her laptop so it would play her scratched DVD of ‘A Walk to Remember’.

(Y/N) frowned as she sat on the bleachers watching the bulldogs train for their upcoming game. Her eyes were locked on Reggie’s form, watching him as he caught the ball from afar. “God, (Y/N), you’re so two-faced. I love it.” Veronica exclaimed.

“One minute, you’re all ‘Reginald, don’t be so egotistical, I hate you.’ the next you’re drooling over him and can’t even take your eyes off him.” Betty added.

“Oh my God! I’m friends with a group of idiots!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “He’s my soulmate, I’m allowed to drool over him.”

“Who’s your soulmate?” Reggie asked, including himself in the conversation. “I’m pretty sure that’s me. Talk to you tonight, (L/N).” He winked as he made his way back towards the field.

“Don’t count on it, Reginald!” she shouted back, a grin spread across her face.

“God, just fuck already.” Kevin shouted after him.

The tickling sensation grew on her left forearm, meaning only one thing. Reggie was at it again.

‘so, ready to admit that ur my soulmate?’

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the ink on her arm and continued to solve the algebraic question in front of her.

'ur not writing back b'cos u know im right ;)’

Ignoring him once again, she picked up her makeup remover and rubbed the ink off.

Reggie groaned after seeing the ink disappear from his arm. “What if (Y/N) is telling the truth? She’s probably not my soulmate. I mean my soulmate hasn’t written back.”

Moose and Chuck looked at each other before smacking Reggie around the back of his head. “Don’t be such a dick, Mantle. D'ya know how unlikely it would be for your soulmate and (Y/N) to hit their hips at the same time, unless your soulmate is, maybe, I don’t know, (Y/N)?”

The trio sat in silence, for awhile as Reggie took in the words of his friends, until Chuck broke the silence with the words “Dude, she literally calls you Reginald.”

“And?” Reggie said, confusion laced in his voice.

“You’d punch me if I even attempted to call you Reginald.” Chuck frowned.

“I’d punch you because you’re a dick.”

The following day, (Y/N) tried her hardest to avoid Reggie, but with their clashing schedules it was practically impossible. She sighed as she once again caught him looking in her direction, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Need something, Reginald?”

He shook his head and turned back to face the front, before turning back to face her again “Actually, yes, I do need something from you, (L/N). I need you to prove to me that you’re not my soulmate.”

Just before she could reply the bell had rang, signalling that it was the end of the school day. “I’ll see you later, (Y/N).” Reggie shouted after her.

She sat at her desk, tapping her pen against it, as she, yet again, procrastinated her biology questions. Her phone vibrated, signalling an incoming call from Kevin. As soon as she answered, she was met with her best friend screaming down the phone. “I’m on my way over to pick you up! We’re going to Moose’s party.”

He picked up a grape before throwing it in the air and attempting to catch it in his mouth, failing as his eyes locked with Archie, who was stood next to (Y/N), his arm around her shoulder. Reggie pushed himself from the couch and strode his way over to (Y/N) and her red-haired friend.

“Hey, Andrews. Mind if I borrow (Y/N) for a second?”

“Sure, dude. Just don’t do anything stupid!”

Reggie took (Y/N)’s hand in his, pulling his hand away from hers when he felt a spark at the skin to skin contact. He looked at (Y/N), instantly apologising. Her mind flickering over to the time he sprained his wrist and covered her arm in ink-stained apologies.

“What do you want, Reginald?” she said, sending a genuine smile at him for the first time in weeks. Reggie positioned himself in front of her so he could face her. He noted down everything about (Y/N). The way her eyes shone almost as if they were a spotlight and the way she would crinkle her nose every time she let out a laugh.

She looked into his eyes and nodded. She didn’t need to know what he wanted to ask, she already knew.

“I want,” He paused, inching closer to her “you to,” He was so close to her, she could feel his breath on her cheek “prove it.” By now, there was no distance between them, everything around them seemed to disappear. The smell of alcohol and cologne on him intoxicated her, if she were to pull away now, she would’ve craved the scent. If she pulled away now, she would’ve craved him. Using his right arm he tilted her head up, their lips meeting. She was taken by surprise at the softness and warmth of his lips, she had expected it to be horrendous, something that she would forget in later life; how could she when everything he did was near-perfection? As they pulled away, they stood, their foreheads leaning against each other, eyes still closed.

(Y/N) smiled at the boy in front of her. She looked over at the coffee table, picking up the pen that lay underneath the pile of red solo cups, writing on her arm:

'It’s me. I’m your soulmate.’

Superfamily Thing

Dad and pops were fighting again.


They had been for at least a week now. Peter was used to the occasional blowup for a night, maybe two, before they got all stupidly sappy with one another again.
This was new. Scary.

They avoided each other in the day and screamed at each other in the night when they thought he was asleep. Pops had been sleeping in the spare room for at least six of the seven nights it had been going on for. Dinner time had become a nightmare; Uncle Clint having to swap seats so he was sat in between them and prevent another fight from springing up while they ate.


He didn’t want them to split up. Divorced parents were a pain in the ass, according to the girl who sat next to him in math class. She was always talking about what a hassle it was, moving all her stuff from one house to another every weekend.

And it meant one of them would have to leave. Move out. Get a new life and a new partner and maybe even a new kid-

But Peter really didn’t want to think about that.


Today was the fifth day of Peter coming home to see only one of his parents in the kitchen, where there should usually be two. They tended to hang around, waiting for him in order to ambush him and ask questions about his day. Their latest fad was ‘so how was Wade today?’ or something along those lines, in that stupid sing-song voice that adults always did when they were being dicks.

It had been irritating- but Peter wouldn’t have minded now. If it meant they’d been doing it together, sending stupid smirky grins toward one another or just holding hands at the table rather than looking cold and tired- he wouldn’t have minded at all.


Today it was dad who greeted him. He was sat with a coffee in hand and tablet in the other, idly tapping at the keys and trying to keep his eyes open. Peter knew he hadn’t been sleeping well- it wasn’t exactly hard to tell. And although they never spoke to him about what they did with the avengers, Peter could guess that that had been the trigger for all the stupidity lately. 

He didn’t have to be the genius he was in order to figure that out. Pops hadn’t come back from the mission two Fridays ago; they’d hurried him off to hospital instead. And then three days later, once he’d been given the all-clear, dad had brought him home, where they’d proceeded to have  a huge argument. Right in front of Peter. 

Honestly, he’d just wanted to be able to sit with pops and make sure he was okay- let him stroke his hair and quiet his worries and say how tough he was, that he wouldn’t go down that easy. But instead he’d had to be hurried away by Uncle bruce, who was rolling his eyes and apologizing on behalf of them, saying that he’d be able to talk to his pops soon, but it wasn’t a good time right now.

Peter had scowled, told Uncle Bruce moodily ‘I’m thirteen, not an idiot- I know that’, and then slammed up to his room to wait it out. And, of course, Pops had hobbled up eventually; sitting on the bed with him and assuring him he was okay, he was tough as nails, and he would always, always come home to Peter.


Except he’d been alone. and usually, no matter how mad they were at each other, Pops and Dad had always talked to Peter about this together.

That had been the first warning. From then on, it had seemed things just got progressively worse.


“Hey squirt- how was school?” Dad asked, when Peter dropped his bag and began making his way into the kitchen in order to make himself a bowl of cereal (he was a growing boy, okay, shut up, cereal in the afternoon was perfectly fine, his Uncle Clint did it all the time).

he shrugged. “Eh- it was okay. Boring, as usual; they gave us a test, I aced it, again, as usual,” Peter explained, carefully avoiding the fact that they’d been learning about The Battle of New York in lesson that day. He knew it was a touchy subject for his dad, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting him.

Dad raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from his coffee and watching Peter with a look on his face. Peter just sighed. He knew what was coming.

“So how was Waaade?

He sighed. “Ugh, Wade was fine, he smiled at me while i passed on the corridors today and that was literally all that happened. I honestly don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this, he called me cute once-”

“Once is enough,” his dad shrugged bemusedly, poking Peter in the side as he walked around the table to sit next to him and get to work on his snack. 

“That is not a snack, Peter,” dad said, because unfortunately he was good at reading Peter’s mind like that. “That’s like, a full meal. We’re having dinner in an hour, are you serious-”

“School is hard work,” Peter complained, flopping on to the stool and leaning on his dad’s shoulder theatrically, “It drains me of energy that I need to replenish with Lucky Charms.”

“Natasha will blow her top if she sees you eating that- it’s her turn to cook tonight. And if she chooses to murder you for eating beforehand, then there isn’t much I can do. I know you’re my son, but the whole parent-bond thing only goes so far-”

Peter bumped him on the shoulder and he laughed quietly. It was nice to see the tension ease off his face a little.


Of course, then everything went wrong again.


“Hey Peter, didn’t know you’d be back so ear- oh,” his Pops said, entering the room and faltering when he saw Dad already sat at the table.

There was an awkward pause. Peter guessed they must have got the days wrong for which one of them was going to go and talk to him about his school day. 
That tended to happen when they didn’t actually speak to one another and acted like they were Peter’s Goddamn age.

Pops managed to collect himself, though- walking forward and smiling as he reached out to squeeze Peter’s shoulder, before heading to the cupboards and grabbing a mug. “You had a good day today?”

Peter shrugged, wishing it didn’t feel as tense as it did. Why the hell did parents have to argue anyway? It was stupid. They were being stupid, and Peter just wanted them to kiss and make up already- because that’s what they did, that’s what they always did, right? This wasn’t going to last, it couldn’t- Peter didn’t want to have two homes, he didn’t want Dad to marry someone else or Pops to have different kids-


It was only then that he realised Dad and Pops had moved, resting a hand on each shoulder while he leaned forward on to the table and hid his crumpled face in the crook of his arms.

 “Peter! Hey, baby, what’s happened, did something go down at school-”

“Do we need to go in, because we’ll go in, okay- whatever’s wrong, we’ll sort it out. Are you being bullied?”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“Did you have an argument with your friends?”

“Were y-”

“IT’S YOU TWO!” Peter yelled, jerking upward again and throwing his hands in the air. “God, this is the first time you’ve been this close to each other in ages! I haven’t seen you look each other in the eye when you’re around one another except to argue! Why the hell are you both being so stupid? I don’t…I don’t want you to get divorced! But you will and then you’ll both find stupid new people and have stupid new lives and leave me behind and we won’t be a family any more and I don’t want that so just STOP FIGHTING!”

He didn’t stop to listen to whatever stupid crap they tried to throw at him; instead kicking the chair he was sat on over and storming out of the room angrily, ignoring their calls and running up into his room before they could bother him. 

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Frat Boy Pt. 9

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6,  part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8

IT’S BEEN TOO LONG FRATTY FRIENDS! Literally - Six. Months. Or longer. Here’s the RECAP if you need to catch up on your infuriating frat boy shenanigans in a fun and easy fashion! It’s been a while, and we’re learning about Harry now… be fragile with him. As always, please tell me your thoughts after reading! It takes a moment but when I feel people are involved in this project it motivates me to continue with it. Anyways, I’ve already kept you waiting long enough…Thank you for sticking with us. ENJOY! xx

18 Morning View Drive

Coast Hills, CA

Then, exactly an hour and thirty minutes later:

7 pm.

Those were the only things Harry had texted you. Just the address.

“I don’t even know if I want to go anymore,” you whined, looking at your phone once more before tossing it on the bed. “He clearly hates me and doesn’t want me to go.”

“I thought you told me he said you could though!”

“Only because it sounded like he had to! His sister was practically forcing the words out of him.”

Renny cringed. “Sister…Yeah I’m sorry, I’m still not over it.” You groaned at the reminder and she sighed in response. “Okay listen, just be yourself! Try not to hate him.” You felt your eyebrows rise higher than hairline.

“And this is coming from a girl who loathes him more than her entire being?”

She rolled her eyes. “I just think he’s an entitled asshole, but you clearly don’t otherwise you wouldn’t be going to the dinner. Now, nude pump or suede bootie?” She held up the two shoes she was gracious enough to let you borrow and you bit the inside of your cheek. You did think he was an entitled asshole, but… you were curious. So undeniably curious and how many girls could say they went over to a family dinner at the Styles’ house? Not that that was your primary reason for going but…

“Uh, Y/N?” she prompted.

“Bootie,” you said quickly, snapping yourself out of further self-analysis.  You weren’t sure if you liked the boy, but you were definitely… interested. Renny went to the closet and came back with two dresses.

You shook your head.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re a little…fancy.” You bit your tongue, not allowing ridiculous to form. You shook your head.

“Yeah it’s a family dinner. Jeans will be fine,” you reasoned. You plucked your favorite denim from the drawers and Renny gasped as if you’d smacked her across the face. “And a t-shirt,” you added with a smirk. She gasped louder and clutched her chest.

“No no no no no. No!” She raised her finger to you, stalking to the closet again, the cocktail dresses abandoned to the floor. “If you’re wearing these booties you’re at least wearing a blouse. God, who are you?” She plucked a peachy top and a blazer from the inside of the closet, but you snatched the blazer from her hands and put it back on the hanger, opting for the cream sweater instead.

“I want to be comfortable, not looking like I’m going to a business meeting ya dingas.” She snorted at the term and you pulled her in for a hug, clinging to her for a moment. She always seemed so soft and you weren’t sure if it was the Victoria’s Secret body lotion she used or if she was just blessed with naturally smooth skin.

“Renny?” you mumbled against her chest, arms still securely wrapped around her.

“Yeah?”

Your mind raced with hundreds of questions. What were you doing? Was this absolutely stupid? How do you know if you like someone?

“Your boobs are comfy,” you finally sighed. You knew she couldn’t possibly give you explanations for any single one of those things. She wasn’t exactly a love guru, but she was entirely the best at texting and the art of flirting.

“Thanks. Niall thinks so too.” You squeezed her tighter before it registered what she’d said. “Gross,” you mumbled, letting go with a laugh.  You only let her put the bare minimum makeup on you and she was just finishing up with a coat of mascara when there was a knock on the door. She stopped.

“I thought you said he wasn’t going to pick you up.”

You shook your head. “He isn’t. I’m driving.” Renny paused, listening, as if she’d be able to hear what was going on just beyond the door. The mascara wand was set on the bathroom countertop and she crept to the door. You weren’t under any illusions that he would swing by your place beforehand so you weren’t going to bother wasting precious energy on “what-if”s, though your heart still picked up its pace in expectation. The door creaked open at the last swish of the mascara wand.

“Niall?”

Expectations you didn’t want in the first place fell when you heard her voice raise in pitch. Of course it wasn’t Harry.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by.” His satisfaction at having surprising her was evident in his smug tone and you tip-toed out, not having had a proper one-on-one with Niall since the night of the party.

“You alone?” he whispered to her.

You saw Renny shake her head before you took a step out. A bit of guilt hit you thinking about the spontaneous kiss, but it was so long ago. I mean, you were going to Harry’s house tonight and Niall just came for some one-on-one time with Renny. At this point the kiss just seemed…a bit irrelevant. Renny faced you as if to gesture “see! Not alone” and his blue eyes focused on you as if nothing had changed. But then they did.

“Oh, hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” he shrugged and shifted his weight. Renny was oblivious to the awkward shift.

“Um, I live here?” you crossed your arms, brows furrowing a bit.

He thought it over but for a second before he shook his head, lips quirking up in their innocent schoolboyish charm. “Right. Must be tired or somethin’.”

“Or somethin’” Renny teased. Niall poked her sides and she twisted out of reach, only leaning back again to smack him playfully across the chest.

“Alright love birds, I’m headed out. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye then,” Niall said, arm already sneaking around Renny’s waist. She mouthed an “OMG” to you at his display of affection while you tried not to vom. But when the door closed shut you couldn’t help but think about how natural it seemed for his arm to wrap around her waist.

—–

“OH GEE, THANKS for putting on your BLINKER - not. ASSHOLE!” you shouted, almost wishing your window was down and that the pompous senior citizen wearing ray bans at night could hear you. Since you were a decent and intelligent human being you put on your blinker and switched lanes, trying to follow Siri. Grandpa was driving a Porsche and he cut you off only to go 5 miles per hour. Your 1990 Chevy Cavaleir was driving faster than that and he thinks he can cut you off just because he has a better- you exhaled hard through your nostrils.  No. He wasn’t worth it.  You’d left in plenty of time, 30 minutes early actually, even though it’d only take about 20 to get there.

The only problem was your phone was verifiably ancient and your navigation was the slowest thing known to man. Once you’d gotten off the freeway, you’d made three wrong turns because your navigation was being ditzy and not telling you how close 600 feet was. And now the entitled drivers of Coast Hills decided you’d be okay with them cutting! you! off! Your hands squeezed the steering wheel a little too tight.

The ocean hugged your side on the highway for another five minutes, but each glimpse you tried to steal to it was futile. It was dark, an expansive pitch-black body stretching as far as your eyes- well, couldn’t see. It left you with a chilling feeling as you turned up the winding hills to the mansions waiting at the top. They were nestled all along the drive up, though hidden by hedges and various gates, and at the very tops all you could see were their lights already glistening, making the hills twinkle with light. Perhaps tonight they could see the water better from their perch above, but a part of you doubted it. No matter which way you tried to look at it, darkness somehow refused to be penetrated.

But you bet it looked gorgeous when the sun came up.

In 200 feet, make a right on Coast Hills Drive.

“Shit,” you cursed, quickly getting in the right lane and ignoring the honk of a horn. You didn’t have time to put on your blinker and as soon as you slammed on the accelerator to turn, you were slamming on the brakes. The iron gates were intimidatingly high and the guard that hopped out of his security room didn’t look amused. A mounted sign read “Coast Homes” behind a trickling waterfall that fell against a stone wall and massive palm trees stood beside it. And then there was you.

A knock on your window practically had you jumping out of your skin.

“Are you lost?” the guard asked. It looked as if his mouth was already open to give you directions, hands raising to point you someplace else, but you shook your head.

“No, not lost.” And his mouth closed at your words, hands quickly dropping to his sides and confirming your suspicions.

“Are you here to see someone then?” he prompted.

“Harry. Uh, Harry Styles.” A slight buzz ran through you saying those words. You were here to see him. You were actually invited to the Harry’s house. Oh god, what if you saw his bedroom?

His eyes narrowed a bit at the name.

“I mean, I’m here to see his family?” you suddenly clarified. As if it were necessary. As if he wouldn’t believe that you were here to see him alone. It didn’t make it much more believable though.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

He looked to the back of your car to check the license plate and you felt a twinge of annoyance. “Pull up then.” He used two fingers to beckon you forward before quickly jogging to the security room. You stopped closer to the gate and he scrolled through the computer with a furrowed brow, clucking when he found your name. “You’re here.” But it sounded like “wish you weren’t.” The heavy mechanics of the printer and a dull screech sounded as something printed, and he plucked a sheet of paper from the machine, holding it out to you.

“This is your pass. It’ll last until tomorrow in case you spend the night so don’t worry about tickets or anything like that as long as this is properly displayed on your dash.” He tapped your windshield as if you weren’t aware where your dash was located and you smiled.

“Thank you, it’ll only be for a few hours- tops.”

He nodded and then, as if you were old friends and he was admitting you into a secret club of his, said quietly, “Their visitors don’t usually last too long.” He straightened up instantly, his moment of gossiping weakness vanished with his once-again professional posture. He gave you a nod. “Have a good night!” The gate opened and you called out a quick thank you before entering the most brilliant display of wealth you’d ever seen.

Lawns were perfectly manicured as you passed, some opting for Mediterranean fashions and others expansive Spanish villas with imported tropical plants. Most cars you assumed were inside of the mansions in their garages, but the ones that weren’t inside weren’t any less impressive. “Ferrari, Porsche, oh! Tesla,” you muttered. It was like all the fancy cars you’d ever seen in passing on the highway had the same destination. Here. You stopped counting how many you saw on your hand when you got to 14. And the houses… they were the largest you’d ever seen. They were more like hotels than mere houses.

You’d seen glimpses from below, and recalled the many times you’d stare up at them dreamily on late night cruises to get back home from work, the lights beautifully transforming the hilltops and making you feel like it was an early Christmas. From below you seemed to forget how massive they would be in person.  How they hinted at lives being lived just out of reach. Staring at them up close now, you somehow felt they were even more so.

Make a right on Morning View Drive, then, in 500 feet, your destination is on your right.

You swallowed hard despite yourself as you turned right, suddenly thinking that Renny’s idea of a dress wasn’t that ridiculous of an outfit. But it was too late now, especially when you drove down a street just as manicured as the rest, but somehow seemed wider. The streets alone…They were about twice- no, three times the size of your own in width. And the houses were separated far from each other, far enough that one property easily took up the space of four large houses. You tried to zero in on the numbers along the houses – only to realize they were hidden. By gates. More gates? What were they hiding in there, the Crown jewels?

Your destination is on your right.

Your body jolted forward as your twitchy legs hit the brakes too hard and your car started drifting forward again as your foot relaxed.

Another jolt to stop before you ran into the mailbox.

You couldn’t see a number, but you didn’t think you had too. Forget the other houses - this was the largest home you’d ever seen, fitting for how well known the Styles family was. It was a Spanish Mediterranean style mansion with golden lanterns adorning windows and balconies…and this was just what you could see from what was rising above the iron gate surrounding the property. It sat prominently in the middle of the street, both intimidating and more striking than any of its neighbors, and the largest too – your gaze ran all the way down the gate; it took up the rest of the street until the end of the hill where it’d drop off into a deep valley and eventually run straight into the ocean. You’d seen that view from the highway a thousand times, but it was different to be on the other side of it now. You knew the Styles were rich, but you didn’t think they owned an entire coastal hilltop.  

You awkwardly repositioned the car and drove up to the callbox, but paused, looking to your purse hesitantly. Should you just call Harry on his cell? You rolled your eyes and leant out to press the little call button and the buzz that instantly droned in the air made your hand recoil in a snap and left your mouth suddenly very dry. This was real. This was happening.

Awesome.

You swallowed hard, trying to convince yourself you shouldn’t peel out of his driveway and drive straight back home to Renny and your ducky pajama shorts.

The droning stopped, and a long high-pitched beeeeeep sounded, which triggered the gates. There was muffling on the other end of the line as the iron gates started peeling back, and you could’ve sworn you heard a voice say, “Is that her?” Your hands were mildly shaking as they reached to put the car back in drive, from fear? Excitement? Admittedly, a bit of both.

You drove up the cobblestone drive through a yard lush with tropical plants that had to have been imported, but your gaze was quickly stolen by the resort-like property you’d be entering at any moment. Columns stood tall and the encased chandelier emitted a warm glow where the intricate glass doorway stood. The click of your booties walking along the cobblestone seemed loud as you walked to the front and tentatively raised a hand to the door. You knocked softly for fear the intricate glass would break, though it did seem expensive and thick enough…

You looked back to the only car in the driveway – yours. Their cars were probably hidden and well-kept from the elements in one of the three garages you’d parked in front of. The dent you’d received from last year’s fender-bender was still obvious even in this dim lighting. The crickets seemed peaceful tonight.

“Welcome!”

You turned sharply at the high-pitched voice to see Gemma. She held a full champagne flute in her hand, and leant a bit on the dark wood rim of the door, looking every bit as beautiful as you’d remembered – more so, now that you saw the cocktail dress she was wearing.

“Hi!” you mirrored her enthusiasm.  She ushered you in, not noticing it was a mere mask for how totally unprepared you felt. “Was I, uh, was this like a formal occasion?” you whispered, eyes darting down the long hall. The blank stare she gave you made your anxiety about being the most awkward human bean rise to new levels.

“What, formal?” Gemma looked baffled for a moment. “Oh! No, not at all. All my other clothes are dirty and I’ve been refusing for Sven or Eli to do them.” She took in your lost eyes. “The house maids- or, housemen? Not sure which,” she clarified. Her eyes quickly darted over your cardigan and jeans. “You look wonderful by the way. Dinner’s only just begun, I promise.” You smiled warmly at her, suddenly becoming aware of the chatter and silverware scraping the plates. A grand piano sat in the entrance, and there was a surprising amount of marble for the Spanish exterior of the house. Chandeliers lined the tall ceilings all the way down and some orchestra music you weren’t sophisticated enough to name filled the air.

She started walking down the hall, and you trailed behind her, your heart rate accelerating from the anticipation of seeing Harry in his home. It sounds weird, but you’d never been able to picture him at a proper house, with a family, with a childhood really… just the fraternity.

“Y/N is here!” She called out just as she turned the corner. Seven pairs of eyes locked on you and you instantly tugged on your sleeves. Especially when you only recognized two. Harry sat beside the head of the table, his eyes locked on the plate of food, and a surprise. Sorority Viv was beside him. You wanted to scowl, but you tugged the sleeves of your sweater down instead.

“Hi,” you put up a hand and braced a smile.

“Well we didn’t think you were coming,” a woman said. Her blonde bob looked strangely familiar and Harry’s eyes snapped to her when she spoke. Even from here you saw them harden.

“Oh..uh,” you looked down at your watch. 6:55. “I’m sorry, I thought dinner started at 7.”

“You’re fine dear,” the man at the head of the table assured. Mr. Styles you assumed. He had kind features and softened wrinkles by his eyes when he smiled like now. He was like a George Clooney and, even though he had gray hair, he was tan and somehow it was fashionable. But something was off.

“It was meant to be 6,” she noted, and her pearl necklace jostled as she leant over and placed her empty glass of champagne on the table and beckoned you to the seat in front of Harry. “Well come in! Please,” her voice sounded sincere but the thin smile radiated about as much warmth as a frozen potato. Gemma squeezed your shoulder as she passed and sat at the next empty one a few chairs down. You pulled yours out next to a fair-skinned boy with light dull brown hair and he offered his hand. It was like porcelain, so it was a little unnerving when you grasped it and found he was actually warm.   

“Charlie,” he said, and you realized he was the boy you saw kissing Gemma.

“Y/N,” you smiled. You looked across to Viv and did the same, and she returned it, if a little unwilling. She looked to Harry again, who’d busied himself more with food.

“Hey,” you said, but it was into the void, his eyes elsewhere probably looking at the thousand dollars worth of décor – your embarrassment was swallowing you up until Viv nudged him. He looked up, eyes distant, and they locked on your own for only a second.

“Hi.”

It was mortifying.

“So-” Charlie cleared his throat- “You guys are mates then I reckon?”

“We’re not sure what they are,” Gemma piped in.

“What do you mean?” Viv asked, looking to Harry.

“Yes, what do you mean?” Mrs. Styles suddenly halted the conversation at the other head of the table with the couple beside her. Harry’s face morphed into a scowl.                               

“Gemma,” he warned.

“Mary, please,” Mr. Styles sighed.

“Harry,” Gemma and Mary spoke at the same time.

“So!” Charlie let out a nervous laugh. “The chicken’s really good isn’t it?” He forked another bite into his mouth and you were envious you couldn’t do the same. Just like that, a gloved hand reached down and gingerly set down a china plate with the juiciest piece of chicken and capers you think you’d ever get the privilege of eating.

“Thank you,” you looked back to the kitchen help before he could disappear, black and white uniform and all. “You have a lovely home Mr. Styles. And Mrs. Styles.”

“Oh honey my mother-in-law is Mrs. Styles. I’m Mary, and he is Lionel.” Her voice was bubbly like the champagne she twirled around, but so was her friendly tone – full of air.

“Oh, okay.” You busied yourself with picking up the silverware before stealing a glance to Harry. His demeanor was different than usual, eyes glued to his food, cheek sucked in as he lightly gnawed on it. He was still, but .. sad? No.

…despondent?

“Did practice tire you out?”

His eyelashes fluttered at the sound of your voice and he looked up, lips pursing just the slightest. It was a miracle he hadn’t ignored you.

“No…”- a brief lift of his shoulders, a shake of the head, then- “No,” he repeated, forking a piece of chicken into his mouth.

“Yeah, you have been awfully quiet-OW,” Charlie began coughing and Gemma threw him a glare.

“Harry’s never quiet.”

“And how would you know that?” Harry suddenly snapped to life and the room dropped by ten degrees. She raised the napkin neatly to her mouth before slowly tucking it below her.

She took a deep composed breath.

“Oh please Harry,” her oddly placed laugh made you tug your sweater tighter to your body. “I’ve lived with you long enough don’t you think?”

“Long enough? Yeah I completely agree.” A sarcastic half grin spread across his face and something tugged within you that made you want to kiss it away. You heard yourself thinking and it made you sick. Kiss? KISS??!

You stuffed another bite in your mouth.

“So Y/N what’s the story here?”

You look up, cheeks full. Mr. Styles – Lionel, laughed a bit at the sight and his laugh didn’t make you want to cringe into your sweater like his wife’s. “Sorry darling, I’ll let you finish.”

You swallowed a little too fast.

“What are you studying here? How do you know Harry?”

“I’m majoring in Biology, but we’re in English class together.”

“Biology! I’ll drink to that,” Lionel lit up and raised his flute.

“Lionel’s the best doctor in Southern California.” Mary crossed her heart, and Lionel shook his head lightly.

“She exaggerates.” Her eyes narrowed slightly at his comment, but he continued, “If you ever need an internship or if you want to come visit one day…feel free.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out an extremely thick, extremely white business card as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “So… just class?” He gestured between you and Harry once more.

“Well, he’s also quite a good soccer player so I’m pretty sure the whole school knows him.”

“I wouldn’t say the whole school,” Harry started, but his eyes were fixed on Lionel and the way he broke into an easy smile.

“So we’ve heard. We’ve seen him play once or twice, haven’t we?” He looked to Mary who nodded. She soundlessly raised the napkin to her mouth again but she didn’t speak. “Yeah, he’s quite good.”

“Really good,” Viv crooned.

“Could you pass the water please?” Gemma asked.

“What?” Mary arched a thin brow.

“The water,” Gemma repeated.

“Water,” Lioinel mimicked the accent and broke into a smile. “You can’t ever leave Gemma, it’s decided. I’d miss your voice too much.”

Something snapped in you. He lifted the heavy vase of water effortlessly and passed it on to her, oblivious of the gears turning in your head. The accent.

Mr. Styles didn’t have one.

And neither did Mary?

“You don’t have accents?” It was out before you could stop it and the table fell silent. It was one of those awful moments when everyone’s brows were squished and slow side glances were given. And a nauseating feeling spread through you when you realized you might have said a very wrong thing. Viv nervously looked to Harry.

“What do you mean?” Mary asked.

Harry cleared his throat. “I mean, technically we all have accents.”

“He’s right,” Gemma said, pointing her fork.

“But you’re…are you British?”

“I am!” Charlie said.

“Yes you idiot,” Gemma nudged him, and Lionel laughed a bit before shaking his head.

“No darling, we’re from here. Born and bred beach bums.” He threw up the shaka sign in true dad-fashion but Mary tipped her champagne flute back.

Harry snorted.

“Never say that again.”

“Why am I embarrassing you?”

Harry didn’t bat an eye.

“Oh come on…Charlie smiled.” Lionel innocently looked over for support, but Charlie’s gaze was locked deep on his chicken by then.  

“You’re lying,” Harry shrugged. “You never go to the beach. Can’t be a host that lies to its guest can we?” Harry turned to you and you froze. “You don’t like liars do you? Cause I don’t.”

“What has gotten into you?” Lionel’s voice was breathless, incredulous.

The table fell silent and the two looked at each other from opposite ends of the table. Lionel set his glass down and a tint of disbelief reflected in his eyes.

“I’ve never seen you there it’s just funny to hear you say it,” Harry continued calmly.

“What’re you talking about I took you sailing all the time.”

“I’ve seen pictures!” Viv said, “Oh you were so cute in your little outfits, don’t you remember?” But her voice sounded overenthusiastic, keen to change the subject.

“Sure and how old was I again Vivvy?”

His retort was instant, the question harmless enough, but it was the way he said it that made Viv’s face instantly fall. For a moment, you even felt bad for her she seemed so genuinely hurt. Mary rubbed her mouth with the napkin so hard you weren’t sure if the red on her lips was blood or makeup. Do you speak? Make a mad dash for the door? Sorry, I didn’t sign up to be on an episode of the Housewives - gotta blast! Then you could throw the thumbs up sign to Harry on your way.

No. You couldn’t. You didn’t even dare to breathe right now.

Gemma watched wordlessly, just as much at a loss as you. More so, it seemed, for her mouth open and closed multiple times, but each time it was a hopeless attempt. Lionel rose his brows, took a deep breath, and leaned back. He looked tired.

Harry’s eyes had barely flitted over to yours before retreating again and in that brief moment you looked at him, it’s as if he realized what he’d said. His cheeks flushed, but his jaw was locked.

Okayy, someone woke up on the wrong side of his small fraternity bed this morning. But you’re welcome to come back and live with us. Have your nice king sized bed again…” It sounded like a nice offer but if you listened hard enough you could’ve sworn you detected something sharp.

“Oh funny joke Lionel,” Mary laughed humorlessly, slowly turning to you. “Harry’s always been independent.”

I wanted Gemma to reach out, to whisper a concerned Harry as a warning, because right now his eyes were dark, brewing a storm of blood rain from invisible scars he’d cut open himself. How deep did they run?

“Yes, funny, funny, that’s what we are,” Lionel said, but there was no smile on his face, he was rubbing the corners of his mouth with the napkin and setting it down on his clean plate. “Sorry about this.”

As if Harry wasn’t in the room. As if you didn’t feel as though you were in the most awkward position you could’ve been placed in, plopped in the middle of a tug of war you didn’t really remember signing up for. Were you supposed to be on a side?  

“Dinners aren’t usually like this, I don’t know why he’s-”

“I don’t know why we’re having this dinner. Are you done?” Harry asked Viv. Her plate was still full of vegetables and at least half the chicken.

“Actually-”

“Great! Are you done?” He turned to you in all his over-animation, and in his dark green eyes you felt a sudden sympathy. It wasn’t right what he was doing, but he could only be acting out for a reason. Or multiple.

Or perhaps he was a just a selfish petulant boy.

Whatever the reason there was a wild plead in his gaze and you didn’t want to disappoint.

But you were also very much aware of Lionel waiting for your answer.

“If everyone’s done, then I’m done too.” And in fact, your appetite had disappeared.

Gemma seemed close to tears, but she blinked them away and tossed her napkin. “Yes, I’m actually quite tired.”

Charlie halted his fork mid bite and with one look from Gemma he reluctantly put it down.

“Stuffed full actually,” he mumbled.

“Great, well, I’ll grab dessert.”

Mary rose with her napkin but the scrape of Harry’s chair against the wood floors made her do a sharp turn.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer as he headed to the marble staircase, footsteps loud as he jogged up them.

“Let him go,” Lionel sighed, and with it, he shrunk smaller in his chair.

“Harry!” she screeched. But he didn’t answer and with a turn at the top of the stairwell he was gone.

Everyone dispersed after that. Lionel received a conveniently-timed phone call to which he had to dismiss himself into one of the many rooms. Mary headed immediately into the kitchen but she never came back -

And then there were four.

“I’m-” Gemma bit her cheek, folded her hands. “Nevermind.”

“I think I should get back.”

Gemma looked at you understandingly, a sad sort of reluctant smile gracing her face. “Perhaps that’d be best. It was really nice meeting you though, and as much as Harry doesn’t seem to get on with loads of people, he mentioned you multiple times. I thought-” Her eyes got misty again and they glazed over the multiple paintings hanging over the dining table. “Nevermind what I thought,” she looked down to her feet but for a moment before that, her warm eyes had smiled at yours. You didn’t know her, not at all, yet somehow you could tell the warmth behind them was genuine. And you liked her instantly.

“Alright, I’ll just – I’ll head out then. Thank you so much for the dinner, it really was delicious.”

“Thanks for coming,” Charlie offered, swinging his arm around Gemma.

“Guess I’ll see you at school.” Viv appeared beside them and the unexpected head of jealousy showed its face again. Well, not its whole face. Just the tip of its nose as it peered behind the pillars of your heart, because would you really want to spend more time in there?

You were shocked when that tiny part of you said yes.

You were only halfway to your car when you heard Viv shout out.

“Wait!” You obeyed, feet halting as her fast jogging in heels made record time. She let out a breath. “Back there, what you said about the accents, it’s not like it’s a big secret, but um.” Her eyebrows slightly knitted together. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you this, I guess just so you don’t make it a big deal.”

“Yeah. Wait- why, did I make it a big deal? I really didn’t mean to.”

She shook her head, then stopped. Her head leaned slightly to the side and her eyes pinched as she pondered your questioned. “Maybe a little.”

She put her arm around you and steered you to your car.

“Harry’s adopted, it’s not bad that I’m telling you this because they don’t try and keep it hidden or anything it’s just – they don’t advertise it. And most people don’t ask. They just assume long-term boarding school or something. They don’t look into it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Adopted. Of freaking course.

“It was when he was young, seven or something. Uh-” She stopped, perhaps she’d said a bit too much. “But anyway it’s not that big of a deal.” But it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. She looked to you.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Totally fine. I mean I’m sure his other friends know anyways.”

She smiled then, and stuck you at arms length. “See you later.”

After revving the engine, and drawing up to the gate, you sat there for what must have been a solid twenty seconds, throwing the engine in reverse and then approaching it again. It didn’t move. Shouldn’t this thing be automatic from the inside? You threw it in park and trudged to the front door again, but no one was moving inside the house. You tried knocking. Everyone was gone. Fantastic.

A miracle, one of the garage doors started to open and you walked closer.

“Oh good, I was about to be stuck!” you called out as the doors clicked back, expecting Gemma to return your smile from the other side. But it was dark and no one was there. You did see the shadow of three other cars though. Three very nice racecar material cars.

“Hello?” You called out. You swallowed harshly when you saw two brown booties.

“What’s going on?”

You felt like you should be the one asking him that, but you just shrugged your shoulders. “The gate won’t open.”

Harry stood expressionless before retreating to the back of the garage.

“Wait- where are you-”

The sound of the gate opening shut you up. “Oh, thanks,” you mumbled. You didn’t really know what else to say, and Harry wasn’t exactly making conversation, so you were silent as the clank of your door closed you in again. Back to reality. This night had been a disaster.

The spluttering of your engine lasted longer than usual and you stilled.

Come on grandpa!!!!

You twisted the key again but it was refusing to give you the satisfying thrum when it finally gave. You were so close!! It couldn’t give out now!!!! It could literally break down, say, in a total hypothetical situation that did NOT happen, when I’m trying to avoid human contact after being pantsed in front of hottie toddie physics professor but it CAN’T give out now.

You tried again but it failed.

And you tried again.

And again.

And again.

Harry’s figure approached the car window with a beer in hand and he took a deep swig of it before knocking on the window. You barely heard it above the spluttering but you gave grandpa a moment of silence.

You rested your head on the steering wheel before bouncing up again and rolling down the window.

“What Harry,” you sighed.  

“She’s dead.”

“I know.”

You got out and waited, crossing your arms while Harry ran into the garage to check if he had any jumper cables or whatever else he’d need to fix this. At least it wasn’t smoking.

“We don’t have any.” He sauntered over, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the car. “Can stay here if you want.”

“I can call an Uber.” You hit your phone’s lock switch but it was a black screen. DAMN you Renny for hogging the charger before you’d left. DAMN YOU. “Can’t. Can’t call an Uber. Could you call one for me?”

“Are you trying to use me for my money?”

“I- no.” Your mouth parted but it closed again. Was he for real? Was he….kidding? “I can pay you back you know.”

“Lionel won’t hear of it. He doesn’t trust Uber.”

“Doesn’t trust Uber. What is he? A binge-watcher of late night crime shows?”

“No.” An almost smile shone through and you crossed your arms.

“Well I can’t just block the gate.”

“No one’s going anywhere for tonight.” He headed for the garage again. “Come on,” he called back.

“Renny will be worried about me!”

“You can call from our landline.”

People still had those?

“Sh they can hear you these walls aren’t 12 inches thick!!” you whisper-yelled into the receiver. You gave Harry an awkward smile and twirled the cord around the vintage phone. “Mary picked it up at a Parisian market or something. It’s mainly for decoration but they got it hooked up just in case,” he’d said, only walking to the end of the hall to give you some “privacy.”

It was literally from the 1920s. You felt like a vaudevillian actress about to break into song about how she wants to live a normal life but mommy and daddy keep her locked in a tower.

“I DON’T CARE IF THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD HEARS ME YOU ARE BETRAYING YOURSELF IF YOU SPEND THE NIGHT THERE.”

“Renny- ! Oh my- ! Could you just- could you just LISTEN?”

“Let me call you an Uber.”

“Lionel already knows and they’re-” you looked over at Harry who seemed to be distracted by a painting he’s probably seen a thousand times before and you lowered your voice- “Apparently one of the maids is already making my bed.”

“ARE YOU ROYALTY NOW?! Are they going to give you complimentary chocolates in the morning?! Are you going to be giving him complimentary HEAD-?!!!”

“RENNY!”

Harry’s head whipped towards yours, but his lips were still set in his pout. You grimaced, putting your back to him and facing the end of the hallway.

“Now you have me thinking about the wizard’s wand. I literally hate you,” you grumbled.

“You know I’m joking. Well, half-joking. You can stay there if you want it’s just-” she sighed- “What is this, are you guys like dating now? Because the last I heard you were literally running away from him and wanting to punch his face in.”

“He does give off that effect. And no! We’re not-” your voice lowered more- “We’re not dating. My car’s just broken down.

“You keep lying to yourself.”

“I’m not lying to anybody.”

“Keep telling yourself that kid. Because the last time I was with you was when you were literally RUNNING away from him. But you’re going to spend the night at his house. Voluntarily. I mean geeze you’re giving the poor guy a headache you can at least suck his dick.”

She’d hung up before the words even processed.

—-

“This is the living wing, I dunno why they call it that it just makes it sounds depressing.”

“What do they mean by living?” you asked. Each word sounded heavy on your tongue, each sentence carefully constructed. It was weird to be talking with him when he clearly wasn’t in the best frame of mind. When you didn’t know if he’d snap and turn sour all of a sudden.

Though you didn’t think that’d happen. He seemed more sullen to you now more than anything, apologetic maybe, if a word like that could describe him. Think: a toddler after being scolded for something he’s done wrong. Eh? That image seemed to work.

“It’s where my dad keeps his…creatures. Birds, fish, I don’t know I never fucking go in. It’s also where their bedrooms are.” He poked his head around the hallway before muttering, “I guess.”  

“Oh okay.”

Your feet stopped following him when you met a tall window. Their backyard was….spectacular. It was dark and the twinkle lights only exposed so much, but there was a very nice long pool, tile patio with sunbathing chairs, and more green beyond it. The all black on the horizon you assumed to be the ocean.

You didn’t realize Harry was behind you until he muttered, “What’re you thinking about?”

“You know I could ask you the same question. Like at least half the time I’m around you.”

His brows squeezed together a bit but a bit of a smirk was starting to form. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Oh you do. You definitely do,” you started to laugh and back into the window to scrutinize him from afar. Because right now he had a very odd look in his eye. “You’re quiet most of the time,” you said softer. After dinner, you weren’t quite sure what was going on in Harry’s family life. But the longer the adopted word kept being tossed around in your brain and analyzed every which way, you wondered how many different dynamics existed that added or subtracted to their relationship. Take Gemma. How did she fit in? She had the accent too.

So, if you could make him smile by backing up and eyeing him like he was some sort of specimen than so be it. As much as you would’ve killed to see him unhappy a couple days ago, you’d realized you’d been a bit rash to run into conclusions. And yes, you had managed to make yourself look like an utter mentally unstable ass and a half. So you could cut him some slack. The night hadn’t been a nightmare for just one of you.

“Stop it,” he warned. But you started to circle him and you squinted one eye, putting two hands up to frame Harry’s face and the window with the warmly-lit grounds like a director choosing the shot. “Okay seriously. Stop.”

“Nope,” you popped the p, “It’s funny. I couldn’t picture you in a place like this before, but now I can.” You slowly put your hands down and you thought you heard him mumble weird.

“Oi. Did you just call me weird?” your mouth opened in playful surprise. His nose scrunched up at your over exaggerations. He was confused, you could tell. And he was probably being just as cautious as you were, you realized. You didn’t blame him. But he was so close to smiling. Soooo clooosseee-

“S’just weird,” he settled with. And his would-be smile dropped. A little bit of guilt struck you.

“What is?” you began slowly.

“It’s weird that you’re here.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Ouch.

“Why?”  

“Because I can’t picture you here.”

His voice seemed shy. He nodded towards the other end of the hall. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.” And he didn’t give you much time to catch up, nor time to feel offended, as his long legs were once again a disadvantage to you.

You weren’t sure how many bedrooms you’d been passing, and to be completely honest, Harry’s explanations of what each room was went a bit beyond you.

“Theatre’s to your right, sun room’s to the left. That’s the library over in there, elevator’s around the bend. Annnnd… here it is.”

He forgot to mention the multiple living rooms you’d been passing which had killer ocean views, or the full-on mini bars. Yes. Bars. As in numerous. You didn’t see much alcohol in them though and you wondered if it had anything to do with Harry.

“I’ll be at the other end then.”

“Of the house?”

“The hall, just there.” He pointed, and looked back at you with a funny look about him. “No sneaking into my bedroom.”

You coughed. “I’m sorry, was that a joke? A poor one but…Are you making jokes now?”

His smile faltered, but it was finally there. No matter how small or pained it looked. His eyes looked to his boots for a second before settling on your elbow, then your shoulder. Then your chin. Or was it-

“Right. Well. I’ll give you something to wear, just- stay there. Or don’t. I don’t care.” Harry turned quickly and disappeared into the last room at the hall. Your eyes grazed the hallway walls. He may not look necessarily enthused that you were there, but in this whole situation you’d felt like an outsider. And you suspected that was exactly what he needed.

Not that you held any pretenses to know what that confusing boy needed.

Not at all.

Or rather, none at all.

None were there to gather dust, to give you a glimpse into what he looked like as a toddler through to the awkward teen years. No family portraits hung. Each wall’s empty space was filled with a landscape painting of the sea, or the cliffs facing the water. Except for the power portrait of the Styles in the center of the home that looked out over their grounds - it was stark of any traces of family existence. The messy bits anyway. And instantly you compared it to your old stained carpets and walls with so many nails in it if you removed all the pictures and unscrewed the nails, you’d be left with hardly a house at all. This felt like someone had come in, staged it for a potential buyer, and that was it. Like if you opened the dresser’s drawer you wouldn’t find anything in it except for another nail or the assembly instruction manual.

You hummed to yourself, peering into your bedroom. A nice queen-sized bed and bamboo flooring. White canopy drapes covering what you assumed to be a window.  The only thing that seemed off was the ceiling. It had stars painted on it. You walked to the center of the room and looked up- there was a name there, inscribed in the center of the biggest star. You sat on the edge of the bed, twiddling your thumbs before wandering over to the ensuite bathroom. It was no less impressive.

A big part of you was wishing to be with Renny right now. Gosh you would’ve paid anything to see her face if she could only see the outside of this house. You never fared well when there was quiet, a lot of it anyway. And in a house this big, it was quiet. A little too quiet. And cold. Was the AC set to 50 or something?

Warm water ran down your face and you briskly turned the faucet off. At least Renny would be able to say “I told you so” tomorrow. Well, not about the blowjob thing. You opened the medicine cabinet to find some toothpaste, or face soap. The last thing you needed was another zit to pop through.

But there wasn’t anything of the sort. No no no.

Pills filled the cabinets. Some with labels, some without. You closed the cabinet. Definitely not toothpaste. Definitely not your business. But who were they-

“Oh my gosh!” your heart flew to your chest.

Mary was sitting on the edge of your bed, silent, hands folded in her lap. Had she seen you? The sudden adrenaline found an escape in an awkward laugh. “You scared me.”

“Oh I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.” She tucked a strand behind her ear and it wasn’t until your hip hit the door frame on the way out of the bathroom that you realized she hadn’t been looking at you this entire time. She would’ve judged you for that blunder. No, her eyes were fixed on the walls, then the ceiling.

Did she need help with something? Were you in the wrong room?

“Is this my room?”

“It’s my youngest’s room.” She looked up again, and her left hand seemed to be a little shaky as she soothed already straight hair behind her ear. You watched her closer and saw her body sway a bit to steady herself when her head lowered. You instinctually looked to the door, to an exit. Harry should be down there. Nerves suddenly held your body like they always do in a situation that’s unfamiliar, in the face of unpredictability.

“She liked astronomy!” She said suddenly, as if she’d just had an epiphany. She walked over to the canopy drapes and peered between them, revealing a balcony as she looked out. “I thought she’d like it. She likes the stars.”

“I bet they’re, uh-” your eyes shot out again- “Beautiful from here.”

She was quiet and she slowly turned to you, pointing to the ceiling. “There. Did you- didyouseeit? There.” She stumbled closer, still in heels, and you crossed your arms tightly, nodding even though you had no idea. You followed her hand briefly. It was the scribble on the wall.

“I picked it,” she said, finger sliding to fall at her heart. “I picked it.”  

“Jesus! Mary.” Harry stormed in, a horrified look on his face as he clutched clothes in his hands. They fell to the floor.

“And Joseph,” you muttered.

Harry’s eyes held no humor in them in the brief moment he glanced to you. It was hardly enough time to properly glare. But glare he did. And there was enough fiery gusto in them to realize that now was not the time.

“Jane,” she corrected. “Jane.”

Harry was struck still, and you watched as his eyes frantically observed. But when she was about to sit down again he spoke,

“What’re you doing in here? Y/N is going to try and sleep.”

Mary looked at him, her drunken emotional journey to the past turning sour. Her lips pressed in a hard line and she stood up, swaying a bit when she did so, but the level of composure she emanated was impressive.  She went over to him, passing you silently, and for an irrational second you thought she was going to jump you. Instead, she grabbed Harry’s arm when she was almost out the door. “There were two rooms Harry.” She tried to whisper it, but the alcohol had warped her perception and you heard everything.

She let her hand fall and Harry’s fist clenched as it did.

You were struck dumb, again. This wasn’t your domain, you weren’t close enough to comfort him if that was what he needed and you weren’t brave enough to interject if he needed a good slap in the face. You barely knew him. And the realization of that sunk deeper than you’d ever realized. You can get frustrated because of him, infuriated at him even, but you couldn’t be one to judge. Not when he seemed more miserable here than anywhere else.

“Stay here,” he finally said. And then he was gone, leaving you with a pile of clothes that couldn’t explain the half of it.

You stripped quietly once the door was closed, pulling the oversized plaid button up down that fell to completely cover your hands. It still left you cold, barely covering your bum, but your heart warmed a little at how he didn’t just give you a black t-shirt. You almost stepped over the sweatpants that were there before greedily snatching them up with a smile In your fanciful mind you imagined he knew you’d be cold in here.

Harry never came back. You couldn’t text Renny, or anyone, and you couldn’t be bothered with figuring out how to turn on the tv or to find a channel. So you lay there, looking at the ceiling. You didn’t belong in this room. Mary, even if she hadn’t necessarily said get out, still verifiably creeped you out enough so that you didn’t want to be in this room. You never knew Harry had another sibling. Not that you’d even known about Gemma until yesterday. How many other people knew him, truly? Why were you here now? What would you do if you opened your eyes and Mary was just sitting at the end of your bed again - watching you sleep?  It made your head dizzy and you closed your eyes. If she was there at least you wouldn’t be able to see her. But the scribble in the sky was still burned in your mind’s eye and it had your imagination roaring. You rolled over on your side, pulling up the thin sheet to cover your ear. The wind smacked a palm tree leaf against the balcony window and you jolted in place. You felt haunted, and it wasn’t like the sheet would protect you from anything except for soothing the little toddler in you who still believed that good always won, evil always lost.

This was an expensive home.

With probably more security than the local bank.

You were safe.

But you didn’t feel secure.

Your anxious thoughts continued like pins pricking your stomach until fatigue made it stop. You didn’t know the time when you fell asleep.

And you didn’t know the time when you awoke. The smacking of the palm trees was as bad as ever , and your nightmare had been worse tonight. The same sick one. A house in the countryside, peeling wallpaper that threatened to wrap itself over your hands if you leant against it a little too long, trapping you there when you needed to run from faceless creatures.

You were being watched.

You jolted-to in a cold sweat.

Was it 2 am? 3? You hoped it was closer to 6, to the sunrise. These days you cherished the times when you’d wake up at 4. You tried closing your eyes again, but the sweat soon chilled you enough to where the sheet wasn’t enough. You silently stood, walking over to the cabinets on the far side of the wall. The painted shutter doors squeaked when you opened them. It must’ve not been opened for a while because the paint caused the two doors to stick together and it only gave on the third tug.

What you saw stilled your heart. Because you didn’t find linens or a big fluffy blanket, and if you’d discovered this just a few hours later in the morning you’d probably glance right over it, perhaps it would’ve sparked a moment of confusion maybe. But now, in a big strange house in the middle of the night you surely felt a chill. And then you were booking it out to the hall.

His door was there. Just like any other door. But you paced around it a few times. He was probably sleeping. Should you just go to the downstairs? Just…I don’t know… grab a glass of water? Try putting on the tv? Like a normal person would? You raised your hand, but it fell just as fast. Gosh who were you?!

You couldn’t yell at Harry for being bipolar when you were basically the perfect spokesmodel. You knew why you were standing outside his door. You knew who’d make you feel secure. This was embarrassing.

But the door opened before you had to knock.

“You can come in,” he murmured.

“Oh,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Oh you don’t have to-”

But when he opened the door wider you didn’t waste a second in entering.  

part 10

GOING TO THE YULE BALL WITH SIRIUS BLACK WOULD INVOLVE

The gif just murdered me. That is all

- Let’s say it was your final year at Hogwarts, and the school slag, Sirius Black began to flirt with you coming up to the Yule Ball.

- So many awful pick up lines & one liners. You believing you were another one of his week flings, so starting to ignore the dark haired Gryffindor.

- Politely declining when he first asks you to the Ball, almost certain he would use you for a week and dump you like he had so many others. It wasn’t that he was a bad person, he just fell for people so easily- you thinking you had been his target this week.

- Let’s say you were also a Gryffindor, and you happened to be in the common room studying contently by yourself, cramming before the final tests of the season. 

- Sirius openly admitting to everyone within earshot of you how whipped he was for you, and how bloody beautiful he thought you were, and how he only wished you would accompany him to the Yule Ball, you raising your eyebrows at him curiously.

- After the fifth or sixth time, realising he wasn’t going to quit, you agreed to go with him if it shut him up.

- “Do you want to go to Hogsmede this weekend together?”

- Going into Hogsmede with Sirius and getting a few drinks in one of the little pubs. Getting a little bit tipsy together, leading to sloppy, open mouthed kisses which you may have regretted the next day, when all of Sirius’ friends wolf whistled at you when you had walked down the common room stairs.

- Him profusely apologising, promising it won’t happen again or so help him he’ll feed them to the giant squid.

- Having a slight tiny maybe crush on Sirius, making the lead up to the ball that much more exciting.

- On the night, walking down into the common room where girls were fixing their earrings and make up, while the boys were running around fixing their ties, everyone chatting excitingly.

- Spotting Sirius waiting for you, chatting to James Potter and Lily Evans.

- He might have been talking to James, then spotting you at the top of the stairs, staring at you open mouthed, his eyes widening a bit. 

- James patting him on the back, leaving you two to it.

- A couple of other people had turned their heads to stare at you in awe.

- SIRIUS IN HIS DARK RED DRESS ROBES LIKE IN THE GIF

- Honestly don’t imagine Sirius who had actually put an effort into taming his hair and maintaining his stubble, all to try to impress you.

- “(Y/N). Sirius offered you his arm, leading you to the ballroom, chatting about little things on the way there. 

- A couple of guys making some provocative comments towards you, making you cringe. Sirius would not hesitate to pull out his wand, hexing them into next week.

- “No one talks about my girl like that.” Sirius growled.

- “Your girl?” You were smirking.

- Sirius taking your hand and looking at you seriously for a second. “Well I was going to wait until later tonight but now’s a good a time as any.”

- “You’re proposing to me aren’t you?” You had a dead serious look on your face, making Sirius throw his head back in laughter. 

- “Kind of. I was hoping you would be my girlfriend.” 

- Maybe you said yes because of how well he looked tonight and how he was so protective of you, but maybe it was because deep down you had liked him all along.

- When the ball started, Sirius would make a solid effort in trying to be interested in dancing. You pulled him close through one of the songs so you could whisper in his ear.

- “Let’s get out of here.” 

- Taking his hand, leading him back to the common room, telling him to wait outside. Grabbing a few blankets and a bottle of firewhiskey you kept in your dorm, Sirius smirking when he sees the bottle.

- Leading him towards the astronomy tower, both reminiscing and exchanging stories of Christmas and shennanigans through out the year.

- Things start to get dark really quickly, passing the bottle back and forth between you two, the both of you wrapped in blankets. Your head was resting against his chest, one of his arms slinged around you when he begins to tell you about his abusive family- quickly highlighting how he’s okay now living with the Potter’s when he notices your face fall.

- Looking up at him, becoming mesmerised in his dark eyes.

- Briefly remembering told not to trust long haired tall boys with dark eyes who break the rules because there’s a 99% chance they will break your fucking heart.

- Not giving a fuck.

- Moving to stradle his lap, crashing your lips onto his anyway, his strong arms snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him, the taste of whiskey on his lips, and his cologne clouding your senses.

- Running your fingers through his hair, thinking how you could get used to this.

Paper Planes (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: Soulmate AU where if you throw a paper plane out your window it always makes its way to your soulmate. You can’t write your full name, your location, or any contact info, anything else is fair game. It’s up to fate to bring you together.

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: Zero proofreading. It’s strictly fluff though so you’re safe here.

A/N: This was such a cute idea and also reminded me of that one Disney short. You know the one. Also, I will jump at any opportunity I can to write sappy love notes and Lin’s messy handwriting. Please don’t ask me about logistics of this, I have no idea what happens if your window is shut and your soulmate throws a plane, I’m just here to write fluff.
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Your parents had told you the story all through your childhood. They would always weave you intricate tales at bedtime about how you might meet your soulmate. Your favorite stories always had a prince playing that role. As you got older the stories evolved from fictitious plots to questions and conversations. 

You received your first letter from him at seven years old. It took you by surprise when the paper plane made of blue construction paper landed on the floor of your bedroom. You scrambled from you bed to scoop it up and inspect it. You unfolded it carefully, flipping it over.

‘ Hi! My name is Lin! ‘

You yelped as if the paper itself had spoken and ran into the living room where your mom was preoccupied with a book. She seemed to notice your panic because her eyes immediately left the pages to study your face.

“They wrote you, didn’t they?” she asked wryly with a twinkle in her eye. You squeaked out a yes, shoving the blue paper towards her. She unfolded it to see the note before chuckling. “Well, are you gonna write them back or not?”

You spent the entire night debating and when your mom came into your room to kiss you goodbye before she left for work she saw you sitting on the floor surrounded in papers. 

“For them or from them?” she asked with an amused smile as she leaned against your doorway.

“For.”

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i hate you, i love you. (m) | 02

PT.1 | PT.2 | Drabbles

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst/Smut

Description: You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you.

Word Count: 9,013

cr.

His body collapsed in the empty space next to yours, heavy breaths falling from his swollen lips as he waited for the harsh rise and fall of his chest to subside. His mind was wrecked with a numbness as he let the spikes of pleasure wash through his body. The room was completely soundless except for the weighted pants falling from yours and Jungkook’s mouths. But eventually his breathing, along with yours, returned to normal, leaving the two of you in deafening silence.

Jungkook’s fucked out mind, now completely clear as the weight of the situation finally settled inside of him. He just slept with his best friend… and he honestly wasn’t sure what to do now. He turned his head to the side slowly, an anxiety forming inside of his chest at the thought of seeing your reaction.

What he saw was you, staring straight up at the ceiling, tight-lipped, and not daring to look at him. The sight scared him, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking as you refused to turn your sights towards him. Should he say something, should he reach out to you? He wasn’t sure what the right option here really was.

But before he can make a decision he watches as your body suddenly lifted into a sitting positon, throwing your legs over the side of the bed as you prepared to get up. Jungkook is quick though, swiftly reaching forward to grasp your wrist before you can get up. He can see the noticeable stiffening of your bare back as his hand wrapped around your skin, and it makes a sickly feeling run through his stomach at your visible lack of comfort with him.

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