#i hate the orange suit but everything looks amazing on him

[moonypml]

im glad this was the last thing i saw before going to bed

#this liveshow has ended me #his hair looks too good... #fr wad was an emotional rollercoaster and seeing phil after the show has lighten my mood #i hate the orange suit but everything looks amazing on him #dan and phil #amazingphil #phan #phil lester #we're all doomed #wad #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #dan howell

[saphirered]

Hi came across your Dorian content and I love it so much. Could I request Dorian fluff with prompt number 16 (Masquerade). I feel like it just suits him. Keep up the amazing writing 😸

I'm being swamped with curricular work pre-break so I might be slowed down a bit in the posting of these but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! 😘

He might have stepped away from the responsibilities of his birth some time ago, that does not mean he does not miss some parts of that lifestyle. Sure he likes his new life as an adventurer. He would not trade it for his old life. Though when the invitation to a ball came around, and a masquerade at that, he found himself gushing over the possibilities. Dorian enjoys a good party where music plays, drink flows and people are merry. He finds joy in the joy of others and a masquerade is a happy occasion. Where he came from, the masks did little to cover what they should, everyone would recognise a Wyvernwind when they’d see one regardless. Here he can truly be who he wants to be and who he wants to be is up to him. You hadn’t understood his bubbly attitude towards this whole event. You know a party is usually reason to be happy and have fun but you don’t catch why a masquerade would be something so special, and different. Worry not because Dorian educated you. 

First came the shopping for garments. This is a nightmare for anyone who hates shopping in general. Many outfits were tried, to find the perfect one, because they had to be perfect. An outfit should be the reflection of who you are, or who you’d pretend to be at the masquerade. As if you had to think up some character and play pretend. You suppose it can be fun but why you have to commit like this, remains a mystery no matter how often it is explained. Still you play along because you see the spark in his eyes, the joy and excitement and you’d do anything to keep that spark alight. You’ll do so with all the love in your heart because when he smiles you find yourself smiling too. When he laughs you laugh with him and while you might not understand everything about this, you find yourself having a good time running around town gathering all the necessities to prepare for such a grand occasion. You’d helped each other to get ready and the nervousness hit you. You were about to attend a grand event, with eyes the many and you know jack shit about the etiquette, or mannerisms. You don’t know the rules or the dances. 

“You have nothing to be nervous about.” Dorian assures and while it calms your nerves somewhat, still your inner demons tell you’ll make a fool out of yourself. The castle in front of you, the towers alight with golden orange, beautiful and lively could as well have been a haunted, with monsters looming. You might have been more confident. But then you feel that gentle tug on your arm, and you are back to reality. Those worries are truly drowned out when you stare into those blue eyes. You’d recognise them through any mask or disguise. The shine and shimmer of crystals and beads could not distract you from the intrigue of his features beneath the mask. His attire reflects the breathiness of the winds ever-moving, glittering when they catch the light, with details of silver scales that return in his mask. He supposes he wanted some kind of joke when he decided on this look; a true wyvern-wind. 

“I don’t want to ruin this night by making a fool of myself.” You admit, as the castle doors draw nearer and nearer. 

“You’re spending this night with me. You couldn’t ruin it no matter what.” He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. Then he turns to the announcer, gives your names, or at least the ones on the invite you procured and you are let in. The announcer shouts your names and you gain some attention, some applause but with your arm around Dorian’s you feel more grounded, nervous still with those eyes on you, but you’re not alone. Then you get the chance to truly take a look…

Dorian watches your eyes light up in bewilderment. Your lips part as you reach the railing and overlook the ballroom. At the centre couples dance and move gracefully along the melody of the music. Crystal champagne flutes come on silver platters provided by servants immaculately uniformed. Spirits are high, drama too given some things visible from this vantage point but all of it is exciting and to see your amazement at this, the first real ball you ever attended as a true guest, that is all he had hoped to see from this night. He’d hoped to share this moment with you, not just to enjoy it with you but to introduce you to another side of him he rarely gets to show, the life that while left behind still remains a part of him and he hopes you could love it just as much as you have loved all other facets of him. He wants you to have the opportunity to relish in the things he loves and this is simply one of them. What he said before is true, because no matter what you do or say, he is here with you so who cares if you don’t know the steps to that waltz or which glass is meant for which drink, or all the nitpicked manners of these crowds. Dorian doesn’t care about any of these things. All he cares about is you. The warmth in his chest that spreads and spreads is proof of that. 

He guides you down the steps and into the ballroom proper where you are greeted by some wishing to get to know the new arrivals. Of course as a master of words Dorian spins a tale fast, every bit as pretentious and intriguing as would satisfy this crowd. As those conversations continued you found yourself engaging more. It became easier when you knew he had your back and you could build off each other like you do in every day life and little by little you see, things are not that different in here then they are out there. Together you have a blast coming up with ridiculous stories, caring very little if the people you tell them to believe them or not. You share drinks and tales, and listen to some too, whispering to each other when you know them to be boastful falsehoods of people with something to prove. 

Eventually you tire from the conversations and seek refuge on the dance floor between the moving couples, so graceful. Dorian knows you’re not schooled in these arts but you’re a quick learner and a good student and it shows. You pick up on the steps fast and recognise the patterns. You may have uttered a handful of apologies to him for your missteps, the cringe at every flaw had turned to a continuous smile. You’re enjoying yourself. He’s enjoying himself. This is a good night.

“For someone who claims to be a terrible dancer, you’re doing remarkable.” He dips you low before your rise and spin. 

“I dare you to repeat that when I step onto your toes for the umpteenth time.” You laugh. 

“I think my toes will manage.” He retorts with a smile. “I mean it, I’m glad you’re having a good time.” This entire night, a break from the chaos of the world, his life and yours, it has been a blessing. He will cherish every second of it. 

“I’m spending it with you, aren’t I?” His cheeks turn darker so when the dance allows you peck his lips. “Good company and a good dance instructor. I’ll count myself lucky.” The dance changes to unfamiliar steps and with that flaw you step onto his toes once more. 

“What did you say about that good instructor again?” Dorian breathes through the pain more dramatically than he should. In reality it was barely a graze and when you first worry for him, you see it in his eyes, he is fine. You scoff. 

“Oh yes, what a terrible instructor he must be.” You deadpan. picking up on the dance once more and going with the flow. 

“Then perhaps we should relieve you from your torture and take a break?” Dorian offers. You’ve been enjoying yourself, even the dancing, especially the dancing. There’s something so emotionally intimate to be so close to one another, to rely on and trust each other, to put on such a performance and fall in like clockwork. It’s been as nerve-racking as it has been heart warming. 

“Has my dance instructor tired of me already?” You sass and Dorian squeezes your waist causing you to miss a step. He catches you, and recovers you fast with grace and speed only one who’s lived on the breeze possesses. In an instant you are no longer twirling with the couples on the dance floor but instead at the edge of it. Your body grows accustomed to the fact you’r no longer moving yet still closely wrapped in his arms as he straightens you, and assures you’re on steady footing once more.

“Not at all. But, I did see some commotion leave towards the balcony and it looked very much like a scandal. Would you care to join me in the watching of what could be a wonderful scene?” Dorian offers his arm and with a grin you loop yours through.

“How could I deny, oh gracious prince.” 

“You just had to call me that, didn’t you?” He tuts as he guides you along on another adventure. There’s many to follow, many things to explore and he can’t wait to spend those moment with you, share your life as you share in his. That is a blessing. he might move like the winds, but so do you. 

#critical role x reader #dorian storm x reader #bells hells x reader #critical role #critical role fanfic #critical role fanfiction #critical role imagine #bells hells #dorian storm #dorian x reader

[kissagii]

an infodump on s&b (for @sleeping-snapdragons)

this series is very very important to me and even though there's a lot of discourse regarding the (sometimes questionable) decisions by the showrunners i'm obsessed with literally every aspect of it

cause when i discovered the first trilogy i was like a whole different person. the person who read those books was a 6th grade girl that was lost in the world and about to fall in love with a craft that would follow her through so many developments in his life. tamar was my favorite character - i was in love with this walking armory an unhealthy amount and seriously thought i just "really liked her as a character." but that was really just the bisexuality stirring, then having tamar be canonically queer was probably the most important thing for me at the time because it broke me out of my naive worldview and showed me that queerness was, well, real. it feels so weird to be a trans man simping for a canonically lesbian character but seeing her on screen, with her axes and eyeliner and fiery attitude, how could i not? the part of me that loved her then still loves her now and the actress absolutely slayed the role (just look at the gifsets omg)

and then there's six of crows, which freshman-year ness latched onto so desperately because it was queer representation and it was good and being able to see two characters be happy together was a sort of thing i hungered for. and now they're on screen, walking and talking and moving, helping each other through the internal conflicts they're both simultaneously facing, and even though their relationship was rushed i think it makes so much room for the development that's to come. and of course the actors are literally amazing and i really don't get why people are hating on them because every little change they made was perfect. and not to mention jespers outfits omg he's my role model with that stupid brown yellow and purple tattersall suit with orange socks and a fucking kilt.

oh and then there's nikolai, who i properly hated until like a year ago, he's insufferable and scheming and stupid and charming and really fucking beautiful. he's a dreamer and an inventor and he's so annoying i'd kiss him to shut him up and i'm gonna put one of his quotes as my phone background because he has so many good ones

and there's david who's just so me-coded because he's a nerd that's horrible with human interaction and has all these funky mannerisms that i also have (like holding up one finger when you want to make a point but don't want to interrupt) and he said so many of the iconic lines that melted my heart in the books and he should be the role model of what men should be and his ending is so unfair to me and all the other fans because how could they do that to us

basically this show is everything past me could have ever wanted and it's everything current me wants and i'm so not okay

#dreaming ⋆｡°✩ #sorry that was excessive :0

[bisexual-horror-fan]

lets give you some amber self indulgence. for research purposes. all of these questions of course imagine a why at the end of, but don't feel like you have to elaborate.

five colors you think are representative of amber?

what are some symbols that represent her in her mind?

what are her five comfort songs?

what would her perfect bedroom look like?

her favorite scent?

what fills her with the most nostalgia?

what's a moment she wishes she could change but knows it has to be?

if she got three wishes, what would she wish for?

besides being a blorbos, an oc, and all around amazing character, what does she mean to you?

i love you so much and i can't wait to see the answers!

Oh man this is so fucking exciting! What a great ask! I am so excited to go off on this, to just really delve into some interesting questions about Amber! So thanks up top for asking this! Now let’s get into it!  Amber rambles under the cut!

Five colours you think are representative of Amber?

So the first two are obvious, red and green, the same colours as a certain guy’s sweater. Red is so obviously her colour overall, she looks amazing in red, clothes or nails or lipstick, it just suits her so well and green, well Amber has always loved the colour green. Long before him. She would sit in the backyard of her family’s home often, would love to read in her mother’s garden, she loves flowers and trees and plant life of all kinds, green brings calm and it looks fantastic on her too, she comes alive in green. Orange, bright and bold, fiery and the colour of her hair. I also think that a frosty sort of blue one that makes you think of winter fits her, reminds you of her eyes and of the big sky where her office building and apartment building stretches into. And the last one is white, like the blouses she wears to work often, of the bed sheets she regularly gets blood stains out of.

What are some symbols that represent her in her mind?

Things that represent her, hmmm! Let me think, when I think of herrrr. I think of the smell of smoke and whiskey served neat, of pretty but sharp manicures. I think of laughing so hard you snort and of a girl who is one of the nicest people you’ve ever met while drunk in a club bathroom. I think of the sound of heels on concrete and self confidence and high rise apartments. I think of strong coffee and sweet pastries and fashion forward business wear. I think of doing things you shouldn’t, having fun secrets, even if they are only with yourself. 

What are her five comfort songs?

Amber loves musicals, she got the love of them from her mother, one of the few things that they had in common and bonded over, a safe topic for the pair of them to this day. The first musical she was shown was The Wizard Of Oz and corny as it may be, and as much as she doesn’t spread it around, Somewhere Over The Rainbow means a fuck ton to her and really loves that song. Especially when she started to hate her hometown and desperately wanted out, a better place, a place she could be herself finally. She still listens to it sometimes now that she IS in that better place, living how she wants. 

Her favourite song, in her favourite musical is from Chicago, We Both Reached For The Gun, she loves the patter of it, the energy, she thinks it is irreplaceable in the musical theatre canon as a whole. Chicago was the first show she ever saw on an actual Broadway stage and was smitten. Get a few drinks in and ask her about Chicago and you’ll be treated to her going off about her thoughts, feelings, Roxy Hart herself and that Bob Fosse’s choreography needs more credit. 

When that break happened, that long two year break where she was away from Freddy, over that time the song Cry by MIKA was like a pseudo break up song because she didn’t know IF he was ever coming back, if this was it. She cried a lot to that song, poured over it, and now it has taken on a different meaning now that he IS back and everything is fine, it doesn’t hurt to listen to it.

She loves the song Fantasy by Mariah Carrey more than she probably should, listens to it often when getting ready to go out, ever since getting with a certain someone, it has taken on more meaning, clearly. Mostly it is a fun song that makes her feel really good.

Sweet Relief by Kimbra makes her want to dance like nothing else, the amount of times she has worked out on her pole to that song is like, too many to count. If she is feeling down, this is the go-to, the fix her mood song.

What would her perfect bedroom look like?

This is a good one! I think honestly, probably a mix of her current bedroom and the playroom she sees Freddy in. She loves her bedroom’s big windows, the walk-in closet, her vanity, laid out with her jewellery and makeup, the hardwood floors and the reading corner. She loves the bed in the playroom the best, it is like a conversation pit you might see in the 70s but a bed, big, circular, built into the ground, pillows and blankets and impossibly soft, she feels so relaxed there, more so than anywhere else. If she could have the colour scheme of the playroom, lots of shades of red and white, the bed and the other parts of her room she adores, it would be perfect.

Her favourite scent?

She loves this one type of candle that is made at a little shop in her hometown, she stocks up whenever she goes back. The candle is Pink Grapefruit, it is sweet and citrusy and has surprising depth, she loves it.

What fills her with the most nostalgia?

Hearing the music from an ice cream truck. It reminds her of hot sticky summer days, eating sweet treats in the garden and reading, reminds her of rewards she bought herself after tough soccer games and swim practices and meets. It reminds her of the better parts of her childhood, when everything was easy and simpler and she had no complaints about her family or where she lived.

What's a moment she wishes she could change but knows it has to be?

Amber almost got a full swim scholarship in high school. Almost. She missed the meet the scouts were supposed to be at, through no fault of her own, the bus broke down, she was extremely upset about it at the time. She got a loan and went to college on her own terms and as much as she wishes she could have done that meet, and kicked ass and won her scholarship. Looking back on it going to college on her own merit was better, able to focus on herself and not be tied down by any vestiges of her past, there was massive pressure from her family to be a lot of things, a good athlete was one, shirking that when she went to college was definitely better for her in the long run. 

If she got three wishes, what would she wish for?

Now this is a good question. Amber has so much of what she wants already but let’s drill down into this. Number one, she would wish to know if her sister is REALLY happy with her station in life or if she wants a life more like Amber, more freedom, not so tied down. Number two, she would wish for the uncanny ability to get tickets to whatever she wants, concerts, movies, shows, plays, whatever, she hates ever feeling like she misses out on something. And last, there is this vintage cream Valentino skirt she is obsessed with and feels a hole in her closet without it and would literally kill to have one in her size. 

Okay, okay and the big one! What does Amber mean to me?

So again, I have said that I started The Man Of My Dreams on a whim, I didn’t know what Amber looked like at first, she didn’t have a name until chapter three of the story for fucksake. I figured her out along the way and fell in love with her in a big way, for how she is, what she did for me. TMOMD was the first fic I ever wrote, because of it I found this community and my passion for writing, because of it I met so many wonderful people like you, Bug! And whoever else is reading this. I made amazing friends, have pushed myself a lot creatively, experienced so much happiness and more that I never would have, without this funky little red-headed porn protagonist. And as much as I say that, we all know she is more than that, a lot, lot more than that.

Amber means a lot to me because well she is the kind of person I think I am and continually strive to be! Someone who is enthusiastic, funny, unapologetic, thoroughly herself and full of love and self confidence, kindness and willing to help others and of course, unflinching and unashamed in her sexuality and body. Being able to write a character like her and have so many people just love her, see her, identify with her or call her things like sweet or warm, it means so much! I love that I wrote a bunch of porn with some feelings and people fell for her. It makes me feel good, like I did something really right, I am glad she can be so much for so many people because she is so much in so many ways to me. 

How she views and feels about sex is very similar to myself as well and this is just reminding me I need to do a big post talking about that already, maybe soon!

Thank you again so much for this Bug, I loved thinking so hard about this and going in so hard on it! Hope you like the Amber rambling. I love you!

#BHF asks #darkestrailme #Amber Cottrell #BHF writing #TMOMD #MANY THINGS HERE #BHF ocs

[db-gochifan]

Gochi Fall Event 2022

I’m bringing over the story I wrote for Day 3 for the GoChi Fall Event this year.

Title: Sunsets Pairing: Goku/Chi-Chi Characters: Goku, Chi-Chi, Gohan and unborn Goten

“Gohan, Goku, let’s go. It’s getting late.” Chi-Chi said from the stairs. “We won’t get to see the sunset if you don’t come down soon.” “Chi-Chi, I think this shirt is ridiculous. It’s ugly.” Goku said from their bedroom. “It’s not ugly, you’re just used to your fighting outfit.” “I can wear other clothes, but this is just… hideous.” “I agree with dad.” “Why don’t you come downstairs and I’ll take a look?” “Okay.” She turned to walk into the living room and almost fell down when she bumped into them. “Ugh, I hate it when you two teleport inside the house like that. I never know when to expect it.” “Sorry, mom.” “I’ll try to be more careful next time.” “I’d really rather you not do it inside again. Let me see how you two look.” Chi-Chi gave a couple steps back. “It’s not that bad. I actually think it’s cute that you two are matching shirts.” “I don’t like these colors.” Goku looked down at his clothing. “Orange and dark green together? It’s a strange combination.” “They are autumn tones. You know, the same tones from the leaves that fall from the trees in this season.” She looked at them and saw their bothered expressions. “But if they bother you so much, you can wear your black jackets over it and it should be fine.” “That’d be better.” “So are we settled?” “I think so.” “Then let’s go.” The wind in the top of the mountain messed Chi-Chi’s long black hair and she felt a strong urge to tie it on a bun, but fought it. She looked at her right and saw both Goku and Gohan were lying down on the grass staring up at the sky that was painted in yellow, red and orange tones. “You’re right.” She embraced her knees and smiled. “Seeing the sunset from here was amazing. If I could, I would come here everyday to see it.” “We could. This could be our tradition. You, me and Gohan watching the sunset together from here.” “I like it.” “Me too.” She lied down next to him and snuggled close to his body. Goku wrapped his arm around her. “This feels good. I love living far from the city, it’s so calm and peaceful.” “Yeah, and there’s a lot of space for me and Gohan to train. Right, son?” He turned to Gohan, only to find him sleeping heavily. “All that time he spent with Piccolo four years ago made easy for him to sleep anywhere.” “I don’t even want to imagine everything he had to go through there. He was so little.” “Things turned out great in the end.” “Luckily.” Chi-Chi yawned. “I think we should go home.” “Already? But it’s so good in here.” “I know, but Gohan is sleeping and I don’t want him to feel sore for sleeping on the ground.” “Okay.” He sat up when she pulled away from him and picked their son up. “Let’s go.” ***** Goku was gathering the leaves that fell down from the trees near the house the day before and during the night and a large hill was made. “Damn, gave me a lot of work.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead and placed his arm on the rake. “Chi-Chi, where should I put the leaves now?” “I don’t know, wherever you want to put them is fine. Just don’t bring them inside and take them away from our yard.” “Got it.” “Hey, dad.” Gohan approached him. “Do you want to fight a little?” “Right now?” Goku dropped the rake right away, already feeling excited about the idea of fighting with his son. “Yes, just for a little. I haven’t done that in a while.” “Alright, I’m in. Let me just change into my fighting suit.” He placed two fingers on his forehead and teleported to his bedroom, returning about thirty seconds later and noticing Gohan had done the same thing. “You still like wearing this outfit, don’t you?” “It allows me to move freely and be faster.” Gohan made a fighting pose. “Are you ready?” Goku followed him suit. “Bring it on, son.” What was meant to be just fifteen or twenty minutes turned into an hour. Chi-Chi didn’t mind it until she heard a scream followed by a noise that made clear to her that the leaves were spread all over the yard again. “What is going on over here?” She appeared on the door with her hands on her hips. “Goku, I specifically told you to get the leaves together, without scattering them all again.” “I’m sorry, Chi-Chi.” He immediately stood up and looked at her. “I did gather them, but Gohan and I started fighting and then…” He looked over his shoulder and let out a small laugh. “It’s my fault, mom.” Gohan appeared from the mount of leaves and wiped some that got stuck on his outfit. “I asked dad if we could train and a little, but we got carried away.” “Well, I don’t care who started it, but both of you will have to clean it up again or there won’t be any lunch for you.” “That’s mean, Chi-Chi.” “The faster you clean, the sooner you finish.” And with that, she went back inside. ***** By the end of the afternoon, Chi-Chi decided to go watch the sunset on the mountains on her own. Goku and Gohan were heavily sleeping and she didn’t want to wake them up. If they complained about it, she could say she wasn’t exactly alone. “I guess it’s just you and me this time, huh?” She lied down on the grass after letting her hair fall down over her shoulders and started rubbing her belly softly. “But pretty soon you’re gonna be watching this beautiful sunset with us.” She had found out she was pregnant a couple of weeks ago. She was feeling pretty nauseous, but managed to hide it from her boys. It wasn’t that difficult since they were always outside the house training and when they came back she was feeling much better. Part of her didn’t reveal it sooner because she was afraid of how things would be in the future. She wasn’t that against the idea of her giving birth to another boy and he’d follow Goku and Gohan’s path and become a fighter, like she was with Gohan. If anything, she was even contemplating the idea of helping them training him herself. Chi-Chi didn’t know exactly when she fell asleep, but at some point she heard her name being called and slowly opened her eyes. “Chi-Chi!” “Mom!” Gohan looked up at Goku, who was on the kitoun, up in the sky. “Do you see her?” “No.” He looked down at his son for a moment and then up again. “Wait… I see her.” “Where?” “Up in the mountain where we usually watch the sunset together.” “Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you soon.” “Alright. Let’s go, kitoun.” Seconds later, he jumped out of it and gave a few steps towards her. “Chi-Chi, are you okay?” “Yes, I’m fine. I was bored and you and Gohan were sleeping, so I thought I’d come here to watch the sunset.” “Alone? It can be dangerous.” “Oh, I wasn’t alone, trust me.” “Huh?” Goku raised an eyebrow with confusion. “Mom!” Gohan jumped up the mountain and ran to her when he reached the top. “We were worried about you. We didn’t see you in our house when we woke up.” “I’m sorry, darling. I came here to watch the sunset and ended up falling asleep without realizing.” “Well, do you want to go home now or do you want to stay here a little more?” “I want to stay here a little more with my son.” She grabbed his hand and then turned to her husband, doing the same. “And with my husband too. My two boys.” The small family was silently for a couple of minutes after that and a chilly breeze went through them. Chi-Chi shivered a little, which didn’t go unnoticed by Goku. He immediately took his jacket off and threw it over her shoulders. “Is that better?” “It is.” She looked at him with a smile. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” She took a deep breath and decided it was time to tell them the news, so she gave a light squeeze on both hands and the two Saiyans looked at her. “Goku, Gohan, there’s something I have to say to you.” “What is it?” Goku asked with curiosity. “You’re not sick, are you?” “No, sweetie. I’m not. Well, not exactly.” “I don’t understand it.” “You’re going to be a big brother.” “What?!” Gohan could barely contain his excitement. “Are you serious?” “Absolutely.” “That’s so great, mom!” He hugged her tight. “I’m so happy!” “I’m glad to hear that.” “We’re having another baby?” “That’s right.” Chi-Chi nodded. “We are.” “When did that…?” “A couple of months ago, when we…” She stopped talking as soon as she realized it would embarrass their oldest son. “Anyway, I was going to wait until tomorrow to tell you, but being right here right now seemed the perfect moment.” “This is the best news ever!” Gohan cheered. “I can’t wait to meet him already.” “Me either.” Goku echoed his thoughts. Chi-Chi looked down and smiled warmly. “I’m sure the baby can’t either.” ***** It was a cold November morning, but Chi-Chi still decided to go outside and spend some time by the river. She had a photo album in her hands, which was the first thing Gohan noticed when he approached her. “Mom, where did you find this photo album?” “Oh, it was hidden in the shelf in our living room.” She looked at him for a brief moment and then back at it. “I haven’t touched it in ages.” “Is this on the day you and dad got married?” “It is.” A smile appeared on her face. “This dress was actually from my mother. It was almost destroyed due to a fire in the castle I lived with my father your grandfather, but Goku saved it.” “Really? That’s so like dad.” “I agree. And then we got married.” “It seems like it was a cool ceremony.” “It was beautiful.” Chi-Chi said, reminiscing that moment in her mind. “Your father and I met when we were children.” “I didn’t know that. That’s so cool!” “Back then he promised to marry me.” “When you were kids?” “Yes. Having a family and a husband was always my dream. But we lost contact and didn’t see each other for a few years. In the meantime I started training and signed up for the fight tournament. Guess who was my first opponent?” “Dad. It’s kind of obvious.” “I know.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Turns out he had forgotten about his promise and thought getting married had something to do with food and I was beyond angry at him. But Goku has always been a man of words, so he said he would marry me and here we are.” “Is this me?” Gohan pointed to another picture where he was in his father’s arms and she looked at him lovingly. “That’s you when you were only three months old. It took you a while to get used to being held by him, you always cried a lot.” “I wasn’t that pretty of a baby.” “Don’t say that. You were the prettiest baby ever.” “Of course he was. He’s my child.” Goku had the widest grin on his lips when he appeared behind them. Both Chi-Chi and Gohan looked over their shoulders, towards him. “See? Even your father agrees with me.” “I remember this moment.” The child pointed to another picture, where he was in Goku’s arms and had the red hat with the four-stars dragon ball at the top of it. “That was taken at the Kame’s house.” “It was on the day where I took you there for the first time. I still remember everyone’s surprise when I said you were my son.” “Yes, and Bulma thought I was a polite boy when she asked my age. I remember being scared of the turtle at first.” “But in the end you became friends with it.” Goku ruffled his son’s hair. “You’re an amazing child, Gohan. I’m proud of you.” “Me too.” “Thanks.” He blushed a little. “Do you think my brother or sister will be too?” “Definitely!” Chi-Chi said firmly. “Who couldn’t be proud of you, Gohan?” “Exactly.” “Would you want the baby to be a boy or a girl?” “A boy.” “A girl.” “Wait a second…” She turned to Goku surprised. “I thought you’d want another son.” “Well, I do. But I think you’d want a girl this time.” “Wouldn’t you want to train with her too?” “Girls can fight as well. Look at you. We met again at a fight tournament.” “You have a point.” She smiled softly. “I do want a girl this time, but something tells me it’s another boy. So you want a brother, huh?” “I do.” Gohan nodded. “But not because I wouldn’t like to have a sister, but because I already chose his name.” “You chose his name?” “Don’t leave us hanging, Gohan. Tell us.” “What do you think of Goten?” “It’s a pretty name, but it also starts with Go.” “I love it!” Goku grinned. “If it’s a boy, then the three of us will have names that start with that syllable. That’s so cool!” “How about a name that starts with C, to make things even in our family?” “A boy’s name?” “A girl’s.” “But you just said you feel like it’s going to be another boy, mom.” “I know, but my intuition can be wrong too. So it’s good to have a girl’s name decided too, just in case.” “Gohan, can you help me over here?” “Goku, what are you going to do with these?” Chi-Chi automatically gave a few steps back when she saw her husband was holding a handful of leaves on his hands and coming in her direction. “Don’t you dare! They are dirty, you’re not throwing them at me. You don’t want to sleep in the couch, do you?” “That’s mean.” He dropped them on the yard. “You won.” “Thank you.” She walked to him and wrapped her arms around his large body, looking into his beautiful black eyes. “The name doesn’t matter to me. In the end, what matters is that this kid is going to be so loved.” “Does that mean we can name him Goten?” “If it’s a boy, yes.” “Thank you, mom.” Gohan ran to them and joined their hug. “You’re welcome, son.” Chi-Chi stroked his black hair softly. “We’re passing on the tradition. Your father named you after his grandfather and now you chose your brother’s one.” “I hope he likes it.” “I have no doubt he will, sweetie.”

#GoChi #Son Goku #Goku #Chi-Chi #ChiChi #Son Gohan #Gohan #Son Goten #Goten #Dragon Ball #Dragon Ball Z #DBZ #Fanfic #Fanfiction

[tsumune]

haikyuu boys get glasses

features: atsumu, osamu

tags: fluff, ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ

a/n: atsumu’s part is inspired by @/zan_miya’s art on ig!

miya atsumu

atsumu is stubborn

he often stays up watching volleyball matches on his phone in the dark

you and osamu have both warned him about his habits before, but he just brushes it off

finally, it’s time for his yearly eye checkup

“this isn’t fair! why doesn’t ‘samu need glasses too!” atsumu complains while seated in the black leather chair of the optometrist’s office.

“because i don’t spend all day and night glued to my phone watching volleyball matches,” osamu replies with an exasperated side eye to his brother.

atsumu groans and slumps further down his chair. the optometrist, bless him for putting up with the miya twins, tells him he can go and pick out a pair of glasses when he’s ready.

“help me pick a good pair, ‘samu.”

osamu snickers to himself as he picks out the tackiest pair he can find: thick, bright orange frames.

“wow, these aren’t bad,” atsumu says as he takes and examines them. osamu is about to shoot his brother a disgusted look when atsumu whacks him over the head.

“take this seriously! this has to fit well with my public image. i’ll treat ya to a meal if you find a better pair than me.”

of course atsumu finds a way to make this into a competition, but osamu knows he’s just as competitive and they begin searching the racks in earnest. finally, osamu comes across a pair that are genuinely pretty good.

“those don’t look half bad on ya, ‘tsumu.”

“really? then ya should wear a pair with me!”

“no.”

“aw come on-“ osamu walks off in the middle of atsumu’s unconvincing whining and starts heading for the front desk, atsumu trailing behind dejectedly.

-

“babe! what’s taking you so long to get ready?” you call out to your boyfriend in the bathroom. atsumu gives a muffled “i’ll be done soon!”, but he doesn’t move just yet. he stares at his reflection, black frames sitting comfortably on his face. atsumu has always cared about his appearance, so while he doesn’t love the idea of having to wear something he didn’t choose to willingly, he admits the pair osamu chose isn’t all that bad. now he’s just worried about whether you’ll like it or not. he thinks the glasses make him look more dorky. are you into that? well, only one way to find. atsumu gives one last sigh and lightly slaps both sides of his cheeks.

“took you long enoug-“ your words are cut off as you stare at the blonde in front of you, eyes shyly cast downward and a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks. neither of you move nor speak for what seems like minutes. atsumu shifts uncomfortably in his spot, too intimidated by the silence to look for your reaction. but he can feel your stare boring into him, and it withers his confidence more and more, until eventually he can’t stand it anymore.

“does it look that bad!”

“you look so adorable!”

the two of you yell at each other at the same time, and are both taken aback by the other’s exclamation.

“you think so?”

“what, why would it look bad!”

atsumu’s blush deepens as you suddenly move up flush against him, your head tilted up to look into his eyes.

“‘tsumu, you really look so cute, they suit you so much.”

no way. how can you be so cute and sincere while saying that? atsumu feels like he can melt into a puddle, but he doesn’t want to let you realize your effect on him, so he feigns confidence.

“yeah, i knew they’d look good on me.”

you snicker softly at your boyfriend’s pride, and pretend as if you didn’t just hear his insecure words or see his clearly nervous stance as he waited for your approval. you grin.

“well then, why don’t we go see a movie after dinner tonight? you’ll actually be able to see the screen this time.” you tease.

“hey, i could see the screen perfectly fine last time.”

“really? then tell me, what was the demon slayer movie about?”

“...a slayer...slaying demons.”

“you were blind as a bat.”

miya osamu

osamu is often staring at bills and budgets all day for his restaurant

you have a feeling his eyesight is worsening because he always asks you for help finding things

he wonders where his calculator is when it’s right next to him, or drops a pen and loses it forever

one time as you walked towards the meeting place for a date he didn’t wave until you were a few feet away from him because he didn’t recognize you

so you finally force him to go to the eye doctor and he gets a pair of glasses

“hey osamu- woah.” a regular enters onigiri miya and is stunned for a few moments as he looks at the shop owner.

osamu glances up at him and smiles. “the regular?”

“yeah. when’d you get glasses? it doesn’t really suit you,” the customer says as he sits himself down. osamu furrows his brows but decides to brush off the comment.

“just a few days ago, i’ve been having vision problems for a while.” the customer hums in response and osamu gets to work on his order.

for the rest of the day, more regulars filter in and out, some seeing osamu since he got his new glasses for the first time. some of them make comments, such as ‘well that’s new’ or ‘you look different’, and osamu can’t help but think on the negative side. sure, they probably didn’t mean anything bad, and osamu didn’t think he’d be one to care so much about others’ opinions, but for some reason they got to him more than usual. he stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror on his break, and slowly removes his glasses.

-

that night, you hear yelling from osamu’s home office again.

“y/n, have you seen my calculator?”

that’s a question you haven’t heard in a while. you walk in to find osamu bent under his desk, looking around and feeling the ground. when he comes back up, you realize why he couldn’t find it.

“baby, why did you take your glasses off?”

“they were giving me a headache. just help me find my calculator,” osamu says quickly, but you don’t buy his lie. the glasses fit perfectly fine before, and he even mused about how it’s amazing he can see every little detail now (he pointed out a pimple on your face and you wanted to smack him).

“no. i’m not helping you until you tell me why you took your glasses off. or you can just put them back on and find it yourself.”

osamu sighs in defeat, and a small pout paints his face.

“some of the regulars said they don’t suit me...”

you stare at osamu, and then spot his glasses on the table beside him. you pick them up and slowly slip them over his eyes.

osamu looks up at you like a hurt puppy, and you feel your heart melt.

“don’t listen to them. you’re the prettiest boy in the world, glasses or not.” you place small kisses all over osamu’s face, watching as his expression brightens. he laughs when you don’t stop, complaining that it tickles, and you take in osamu’s face, the way his smile lifts his cheekbones and his eyes twinkle in laughter.

“there’s my pretty boy,” you say solemnly, hand patting osamu’s head. before he can react, you pull out your phone and take a picture, turning it around to show him. you zoom into his face and point out everything you love about it while osamu feigns protest.

“i love the way your lips sit in a small cute pout, but curl up when you’re happy. i love your nose, and how it scrunches up when you get cold. i love your well-kempt eyebrows, and how you pretend you hate me plucking them but you really love it,” osamu shakes his head playfully, but a smile is playing on his lips as he pulls you down to sit on his lap.

“but most of all, i love your eyes. i love how i can clearly see them through your glasses, how the silver frames highlight their colour even more, and how i know that you can clearly see the world and all it has to offer through them too. i hope you can see how truly beautiful you are.”

osamu stares into your eyes and feels like he’s drowning in their sincerity. he can feel tears threaten to come up, and he blinks quickly to get rid of them. looking at the picture of himself on your phone, he decides he does look pretty good.

“ah, i found my calculator,” he says as he reaches behind you. “thanks for helping me,” his eyes shift to the side, and you understand what he means.

“anytime,” you reply with another kiss to his cheek.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #i know atsumu wouldn't need subs for the demon slayer movie just pretend:p

[seijorhi]

Through the cold, I’ll find my way back to you ~ Part II

I told you i’d get around to writing the second part eventually 💕 

Touya Todoroki x female reader, Keigo Takami x female reader

TW angst, dub-con (if you squint), possessiveness and general... vibes.

Part I

It’s kind of pretty, the pink and orange swathes that paint the sky as the morning breaks over the city. It’s early still, but you’ve been awake for a while, sipping at a mug of steaming hot coffee.

The bed sheets are soft, pooling around your bare waist and you could so easily sink back into the mattress and fall back asleep. Instead, you’re staring out the wall to ceiling windows of Hawks’ penthouse apartment, watching the sunrise. He’d left you a few hours ago for patrol, a fleeting kiss pressed to your cheek when you’d stirred and reached for him.

There’s a pleasant ache between your thighs from the night before, your skin littered in Keigo’s loving marks – you should feel happy. Sated at least.

And you are it’s just… you’ve never really had time to indulge in sunrises before. This– everything with Keigo, it’s new and strange and amazing but–

The past month’s been a fever dream. One minute you were just a struggling hotel waitress living in a shitty apartment, and now you’re in a new city, living with Japan’s number two Pro in a penthouse suite that costs more in weekly rent than you’d make in two months at your old job. You haven’t had to lift a finger, Keigo took care of everything, including but not limited to moving all of your things – admittedly not much – over to his place. It just made sense, he’d said, you had no job, your apartment sucked, and he had more than enough money and resources to support you. He wanted you close, none of that long distance bullshit.

‘You can’t rush what’s meant to be, baby bird.’

Sometimes you wonder if he’s doing this because of Touya, whether he looks at the mark on your wrist and understands that growing old together isn’t exactly a guarantee, especially when so few pro heroes get the luxury of making it to retirement. You wonder if it’s something he’s known for a while, if it’s the reason he always throws himself into the next challenge, the next fight, chasing some unknown end. 

Keigo doesn’t slow down, not even with you. 

And yet you can’t deny the warm fluttering in your stomach when he stalks through the door, those golden eyes simmering with a heat that’ll take hours to quench. Even if he didn’t say those words, you’d know that whatever it was between the two of you was more than simple pleasure, but he does, moaning them like a prayer between feverish kisses.

You think you could drown in that kind of love, drown and die happy–

If not for the pit of guilt settled in your stomach. 

There’s a message on your phone that’s been waiting for you since last night, innocuous enough, if it weren’t from Natsuo.

Can we talk?

Natsuo doesn’t call. Not unless it’s about Touya, and even then he hasn’t so much as messaged you since your birthday – since the day you’d found your second soulmate. And really, there’s no reason for three words to fill you with as much apprehension as they have, but you’re not an idiot. News of your ‘fairytale’ meeting with Keigo had been headlines for almost a week straight, there’s no chance it slipped by him. 

And you’ve avoided looking at it, nervous about what half truths they’ve dug up, the lies they’ve painted you with, but out of everyone, Natsuo’s the only one who has any right to feel betrayed over this. 

How could he not – for every moment you spend here, happy with Keigo, it’s like you’re spitting on Touya’s memory. Wasn’t one soulmate enough? Are you truly that greedy? 

It’s nothing you haven’t already spent hours agonising over yourself, long after Keigo’s passed out asleep beside you. Even if it’s not fair, even if you had no choice in all of this, he’s only human. You can’t blame him if he’s angry about it. You can’t even blame him if he hates you for it.

Natsuo matters to you. He’s the only tangible link you have left to Touya, but more than that, he’s one of the few people left who actually seems to give a damn about you. It hurts – more than you care to admit – to think about the possibility of losing him too.

But your fingers type a quick reply, pressing the send button before you can rethink the decision, and you collapse back onto your pillows with a groan.

—

Wordlessly, the barista offers you an easy going smile as she sets about whipping up your usual. 

A creature of habit, you’d found the cafe a week or so after moving to Fukuoka, and quickly developed a fondness for the quaint little coffee shop; their coffee was amazing, the staff friendly, and just close enough to Keigo’s apartment to make it awfully convenient. 

Most mornings you find yourself sitting at the table by the window, slowly drinking your second cup down as you gaze out at the bustling city around you. It’s a remnant of your old life, the days you managed to function thanks solely to the copious amounts of caffeine flowing through your veins. Of course, you never had the time to stop and indulge in it back then, but while your circumstances might’ve changed, your predilection for coffee hasn’t.

Today however, there’s some dude in a hoodie sitting at your table; not in the seat you usually take, but the one opposite, slumped up against the window, all but ignoring the drink in front of him in favour of glaring at his phone.

“I can ask him to move for you,” the barista says, noticing your line of sight. “He’s been there all morning, kind of a dick too, if I’m being honest. I’d be more than happy to.” 

Judging from her twinkling grin, it’s a joke – at least, you hope it is – but you shake your head regardless. “No, it’s fine.” You glance back at the stranger, a sudden thought occurring, “Actually, if it’s not too late, can I make that coffee a takeaway?”

Somehow it felt wrong to talk with Natsu in the apartment, and while you could easily pick any of the other tables at the cafe, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to go somewhere else, explore a little, enjoy the warmth of the sun on your skin.

And maybe it’s better to be somewhere you can breathe, where it doesn’t feel like every soul in the near vicinity’s listening in on your conversation, unwittingly or otherwise.

There’s a park ten or so minutes walk from the coffee shop, edging the skyscrapers, a few blocks of greenery, three or so park benches scattered amongst the trees. You take the one near the giant wisteria, something oddly reminiscent in the cascading purple blooms, the sweet, floral scent that stirs in the air.

There’d been one at Touya’s, you recall after a moment, down near the pond, away from the main house. It’s where you’d find him on the days he was angry and hurting, when being in that house with his father, his little brother – it was simply too much. You’d walk down the stone pathway, and he’d be sitting on the ground surrounded by those lavender petals, back to the trunk, arms wrapped around his knees, scowling, and you’d make it your mission to try and fix it. To make him forget about all of it, just for a second, just with you. You can still remember the day he took his pocket knife and carved both your initials into the bark, as if the marks on your skin weren’t enough of a promise. 

The memory brings a soft smile to your face, even as your heart aches.

You miss him. 

The vibrations of your phone ringing, however, pull you out of your thoughts, and you don’t even bother checking the caller ID before answering. 

“Hey, Natsu,” you greet, your voice tight with apprehension. You’re glad that he’s not here, that he can’t see the way your leg’s bouncing, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt as you wait for him to answer. 

“Hawks, huh?” he says in lieu of a greeting, “Heard you’re living with the guy now.”

Heart clenching, you fumble for words, “I–”

And then he laughs, “Relax, I’m kidding. I didn’t call to interrogate you or anything.”

“You… didn’t?”

“Look, I’m not gonna lie and say it wasn’t a surprise to suddenly see your face plastered over the news, but…” he sighs heavily, “I know you. This whole soulmate thing, whatever’s between you and Hawks, it’s not like you had a choice in it, and it’s really not my business anyway.”

With every word, the knots in your stomach ease, the weight of these past few weeks lightening on your shoulders. It’s not a perfect situation, it’ll never be perfect, but it’s easier knowing that at least he doesn’t hate you for it. 

“And Touya’s… he’s been gone for a long time. If you have another chance to be happy, what kind of an asshole would I be to begrudge you that?”

It’s a good thing he’s not standing in front of you, because if he was, you think you’d just about collapse into his arms sobbing at that point, and Natsuo hates public displays of emotion like that. 

For a few moments, neither one of you speaks. There’s too much to say, but it really isn’t the time or the place to say it. So instead you choke back the lump in your throat and sniffle, “You know,” you begin, wiping the stray tear that’s sliding down your cheek with your sleeve, “for what it’s worth, I think Touya would’ve hated him.”

And it’s enough to break the heaviness between you, because Natsuo chuckles, “Yeah, but he kinda hated everybody, so that’s not really saying much.”

“True,” you concede with a small smile of your own. 

“But anyway, like I said, that’s not why I called.” He pauses, exhaling through his nose, and whatever you’re expecting him to say next, it’s not; “Enji’s been asking about you.”

Your stomach lurches, “What?”

“I just thought you should know. He stopped by your old place the other day, and when you weren’t there he called me.”

“Why?”

Natsuo scoffs, “Beats me. He wouldn’t give me a reason, just demanded your number, and when I told him no, he got pissed. He seemed to think it was important that you two speak.”

He doesn’t have to say the rest. You’re well aware there’s no love lost between the middle Todoroki son and his father, that for the ever so important and impressive Endeavor to actually acknowledge him much less call him up to ask for a favour – a favour regarding you – there has to be some other factor you’re not seeing, some bigger picture. His own dead son’s nothing more than a footnote to him, and as Touya’s soulmate surely you’re even less relevant. 

But the fact that Natsuo even bothered to pass along the message doesn’t exactly set your heart at ease. He can play it off all he likes, you’re not imagining the tinge of concern underlying his words. 

Enji’d wanted to talk the night of the gala, too. He’d all but chased you into Keigo’s arms trying to corner you; you’d thought it was about Touya, some PR bullshit, making sure you didn’t make a scene or cause a fuss after all those years of staying as far away from him as possible, because what else is left to say between you two?

“I’m not saying you have to call him or anything,” Natsuo continues, oblivious to the fact you’re only half paying attention. “Just… I don’t know, be careful.”

The two of you talk for a few more minutes, and once Natsuo’s satisfied that you’re doing okay, that Keigo’s taking care of you, he lets you go with a promise that you’ll call if anything’s wrong. 

You sit on the park bench, staring at the blooming vines of the wisteria tree fluttering gently in the breeze for a long, long time. 

—

Came home to have lunch with my girl and you’re not here :( come home soon. I miss you

Babe?

Baby bird, where are you??

Call me back. I’m getting worried

I’m not messing around, call me back now or I’m coming to find you

There’s another five or six messages that follow, each more insistent than the last and you feel a slight flicker of guilt as you step through the doorway. You’d messaged him back as soon as you’d realised, letting him know you were fine and on your way back, apologising profusely for the radio silence. 

He hadn’t replied, but there was the little read icon beneath your messages, so you knew he’d seen it at least. 

It wasn’t like you’d been ignoring him on purpose – you’d left the park with every intention of heading home, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Touya, and then this whole thing with Enji, and suddenly your feet had a mind of their own and you were on the other side of the city. And you’d been so out of it you’d nearly knocked yourself over running into some poor guy in your rush to get back. In your panic, you’d barely spared the dark haired stranger a backwards glance, stammering out a hasty apology as you raced off back home to calm your anxious soulmate.

From the way he’s pacing the living room floor, crimson wings spread wide, feathers bristled, ruffling with every step, he hasn’t exactly calmed down since then. One look at you, and he’s stalking across the floor, golden eyes flat and predatory.

“Keigo, baby–” you barely get the words out before he’s on you, lips smashing against yours as he hefts you up into his arms and carries you towards your bedroom.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” he growls between kisses, his tongue pressing back into your mouth before you can even think to answer. “You don’t leave like that without telling me, okay?”

“Keigo,” you try again, only for the rest of your sentence to be cut off with a gasp of surprise as he suddenly drops you onto the mattress. And you’re not afforded a moment to catch your breath before he’s on you again, straddling you, vibrant red wings caging you in as he tugs impatiently at the hem of your shirt.

“Promise me.”

Gut clenching, you swallow down your uneasiness and nod. “I promise.”

There’ll be time to talk later, when he’s not so agitated. For now, you let your boyfriend latch himself to your neck, biting down as he tears your clothes off you, offering soft moans and pretty whimpers like a benediction.

—

The sun’s setting by the time Keigo reluctantly drags himself from your side. 

He mutters something about a meeting with the commission, some new project, but you’re barely paying attention – even if you were, he never tells you the details. Top secret, just like always. There’s an odd expression on his face when he tells you, not quite irritated, but edged with an unfamiliar tension. Whether it’s about the meeting, or what happened earlier, you’re not entirely sure, but his lips brush sweetly against yours, the back of his knuckles grazing your cheek, and you figure he can’t be too put out with you.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “I love you.”

He looks beautiful like that, you think, the last rays of sunlight filtering through the window, casting him in a warm, golden glow. Almost angelic. You’re tempted to reach out and touch him, to run your fingers through thick locks of blonde messy hair, let your fingertips trail over his jaw, the soft cupid’s bow of his lips, the unshaven stubble on his chin, the bloom of your soulmark laid stark against his throat… 

Of course, you know the moment you do he won’t be able to help himself, and you can’t let Keigo be dragged away from his work for a second time today.

Tired, worn out and a little sore from the countless orgasms he’d coaxed from you, you offer him a small smile instead. A temporary peace. “I know.”

He leaves you like that, naked and curled up in his sheets, drifting off in the haze of your afterglow. And it could’ve been minutes or hours before you stir next, the sound of a knock echoing through the empty apartment.

It’s almost more effort than it’s worth to grab one of Keigo’s hoodies and shrug it on, grabbing some old sweatpants from the closet for good measure. By the time you reach the door – somewhat decent – and open it, whoever knocked is long gone.

But in their place, lying neatly across your doorstep, they’d left a single bloom of wisteria.

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere keigo takami x reader #yandere touya todoroki x reader #soulmate au #angst #tw dubcon

[sinner-as-saint]

Let Me Love You.

CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader AU.

Run-through: Things happened between you and your boss over a weekend recently; while on a business trip. Boundaries were crossed, lines were blurred – rather salaciously. Following this; you decide to resign from your dream job because you couldn’t handle the guilt of having been so unethical. So vulnerable and open. Neither could you handle his burning stare at work, nor the craving of being under him each time you looked at him. So you decide to leave before you ruin your own career and further. But then, your boss shows up at your doorstep – determined to make you realize that this isn’t so bad after all…

Themes: smut, fluff, ceo!bucky (because I miss him)

You felt awful as you stepped into your apartment.

Sighing as you looked around; thinking about how the job you just quit had paid for this lavish home you owned currently. Removing your shoes by the door, dropping your bag and keys beside them you lazily crossed your spacious living room and stepped into the main balcony.

Given you were high up, the view you had of the city was to die for. The sun was going down, and usually you loved sunsets but you couldn’t appreciate this one as much as you wanted to. You were stressed; now jobless.

You thought back to the past week you had just hustled through. Monday was weird; he avoided you like the plague. Tuesday was the same, except you caught him staring in your direction while in a rather important meeting. Wednesday, he still didn’t say a word – except for his usual demands which being his PA you had to meet. Thursday he didn’t come to work; which then gave you more time to think about everything which happened recently, allowing you more time to feel guilty and weird.

And today, given it was Friday he was the busiest he’s been all week. Yet despite that, he managed to send you looks which spoke volumes even in crowded rooms. And you couldn’t take it anymore. You believed you were someone who wouldn’t be able to mix work and pleasure and find a healthy balance, so for the sake of your own peace of mind; you produced a resignation letter and placed it on his desk when he wasn’t in his office. And you left for the day.

You knew he always lingered at his office for a while longer on Fridays. So you were sure that by now he must have found your letter. You wondered if he felt just as awkward and weird as you did, and if so, then he’d accept your resignation without any hesitation.

You sighed one more time, taking in the cool air and the orange-pinkish sky. You walked back inside and decided that soaking in warm water and essential oils would make you feel a little better. So that’s what you went for.

 Thoughts of him filled your head as you soaked in the warm bath water. Your boss. James Buchanan Barnes; powerful name for an equally powerful man. He was the kind of person you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Respect, fame, wealth, authority, power; he had it all.

And recently, just a week ago, he had taken over you as well…

-Flashback-

Friday morning you came to work and found out that you would be accompanying your boss on a short business trip. You didn’t make a fuss, even if it meant sacrificing your days off. The paycheck you received each month made up perfectly well for it.

Paris for weekend, to attend a business conference didn’t sound so bad after all.

“Sir, I’ve just been notified that you’ve cancelled the hotel reservations?” you questioned while scrolling through your mails. While you were just a little confused by this, the man in front of you was clearly not.

Sat across you on the dark seat; well-groomed as always – dark suit, perfect hair, perfect face, strong jaw and strong built. He looked like he could be on a magazine cover. Pure, drop dead gorgeous male. Many of your friends often asked you how you kept your calm and composure around him, and how could you not want to jump his bones all the time. To which you answered; you didn’t see your handsome boss in that light.

But oh did you lie.

You were human. And you did find your boss to be super attractive just like the rest of the world did. But did you do anything about it? No. Firstly, that would be highly unprofessional. Secondly, he was way out of your league. Still, it was hard being around a man this handsome. Knowing he was single and available made it worse.

“I did.” he answered, just as confidently as he did everything else. “It’s just one night, Y/N. We’ll stay at my penthouse.” He stated.

You nodded and replied back to your assistant who had initially emailed you about this sudden change. ‘We’ll stay at my penthouse’…

You had shared residence before. Once you spent the night at his mansion because of work load. Then another time you two shared a cabin while on a trip. Once you shared a hotel room because separate rooms weren’t available. But this, today seemed a little different. And you couldn’t place a finger on what it was.

It didn’t rub you the wrong way or anything. He just seemed so cheery, which was unlike the normally slightly grumpy man. But then again, who were you to question his decisions? So you went along.

You two landed in Paris on Saturday morning. The conference was to be held on the same evening, followed by a formal party of some sort, then the two of you would be making your way back home by Sunday evening. Quite a tame weekend… until it wasn’t.

 Throughout the whole conference, you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from across the room. Meanwhile you were talking to an acquaintance – legal advisor of one of the many businessmen who were attending the same conference as your boss. Steve was a friend of a friend but you two were currently bonding more and more due to work.

And little did you know, that Bucky hated it.

He was watching. He’s always watching you. Not in a creepy manner, in a protective way. As a woman, you were somewhat oblivious to the effect you had on people when you entered a room. You never noticed it, but your boss did.

Bucky knew how every man turned their heads to look at you. How every woman envied you. And it was never about what you wore, or how you did your hair. It was always about how you carried yourself, how you walked so confidently, how you were always polite and proper. And so beautiful.

As much as he liked showing you off, Bucky hated it when he wasn’t the only one who had all your attention. Like right now. He clenched his jaw as he studied how this man approached you. Blonde hair, tall and muscular – Bucky hated him immediately. He hated him a little more after he saw how the guy hugged you; a lingering hug which Bucky never got. Then he hated him a little more when he saw how you dragged your hands down the guy’s arm, refusing to let go of him.

You never touched him like that. Bucky asked someone close by and he was told that the guy you were talking to was someone named Steve Rogers, and he was a lawyer and an acquaintance of yours.

Hmm.

He tried to look away but he couldn’t. Bucky envied the guy talking to you. He didn’t like how close he was standing to you. He didn’t like how he kept his hands at your elbows so gently, caging you, keeping you to himself. He hated it.

 Then he asked you about it on the elevator, as you two made your way up to his penthouse to get changed and ready for the party later.

“You know Rogers?” he asked out of nowhere. His tone just as serious and cold as always.

“Yes. He’s… a friend.” You smiled innocently, thinking back to how you and Steve had successfully broken the ice earlier.

Silence.

 You each took a room inside his lavish penthouse apartment. You immediately loved the place. You had about two hours before the party so there was no need to rush. You took your time, yet your mind couldn’t help but drift towards how your boss has been acting in the past hours. First he was all cheery and warm, and now he’s back to his grumpy self.

Oh well.

You stepped out of your room just in time, your boss was waiting by the foyer dressed in a signature, all black, 3-piece suit. He looked devilishly handsome.

“You look lovely, Y/N.” He said softly as you walked towards him. You couldn’t help but smile and tried to hide your face by looking down at the marble floor. Before you could recover from his rare compliment, he reached for your hand and walked the two of your towards the elevator again.

You noticed it then. The shift between the two of you.

The party was amazing. Lovely people, lovely music, nice conversations; what more does one need? Then again, you could still feel a pair of eyes on you. At some point, you dared to look up and you made eye contact with your boss.

He was staring with an unreadable expression on his face. You shook it off and went back to the conversation you were currently part of, but you could tell he hadn’t stopped staring at you.

 You two met on the elevator again after the party, on your way up for the night.

“You and Rogers seem close.” He pointed out.

You were surprised at the tone he used – that of disgust and anger. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

He scoffed, then turned to you. “Is something going on between you two?” Same tone as before.

Your eyes widened. “No. No, what makes you say that?” part of you wondered why the hell was he so suddenly interested in your personal life.

“Just asking.”

You couldn’t help it. “Are you alright, Mr. Barnes? You haven’t been yourself in the past-,”

He cut you off abruptly. By backing you into the corner of the elevator, the cold metal pressing against your back as his warm hand held you gently at your waist.

“Am I alright?” he mocked in that authoritative voice of his. “No, Miss Y/N. I’m not alright.” He confessed. “I’m not alright with you being so close to me, yet not being able to touch you. I’m not alright with seeing other men making you smile,” he inched his face closer you yours, “making you laugh, dance with you, touch you like I can’t. I hate it.”

His warm breath fanned your face. And as the metal cage got higher and higher, your heartbeat increased in the same tempo. Racing. Rushing. Your thoughts were a mess. Your body was tingling, he was so close. Too close. And you could feel yourself giving into him already.

And you did eventually.

“Then what’s stopping you?” you asked in a whisper, and you heard his little chuckle under his breath. This could be a wrong idea, but it felt right. You looked up into his piercing stormy blue eyes and you saw it; the hunger, the desire, the need.

You were sure yours mirrored the same emotions. Bucky pulled away just for a second, to press the key to stop the elevator from moving upwards any further. Then he turned to you again. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered against your parted lips, barely touching them with his own but the proximity was enough to make you lightheaded.

You nodded quickly and his mouth was on yours immediately. His lips moved against yours perfectly. He slipped his tongue past your lips and stroked the top of your mouth, driving you crazy. His kiss was just how you imagined it would be; hot, passionate, and exciting.

Your hands found their way into his hair and your fingers ran through his soft locks. He pushed his muscular body into yours even more and you gasped as you felt how close he actually was. His body heat wrapping around you.

His hands slowly reached up and slid the straps of your satin gown down your shoulders, letting it fall and bunch around your waist. He had been wanting to do that all night, especially since he saw you dancing with that guy Steve.

Bucky smirked at the sight of the flimsy, lacy lingerie you had on; which he was sure he could tear off your body in less than a second. And he did, allowing the thin material to fall to the floor. He gently touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His lips trailing down your neck; kissing, licking and biting.

His mouth didn’t leave your skin as his hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His hand slipped into your underwear with no shame, his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He chuckled upon feeling just how aroused you were. “So perfect…” he whispered.

He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went. You whimpered quietly against him; your gown barely covered your body. But Bucky was nowhere near complaining. In fact, he had been thinking about what you looked like under that dress since the first time he saw you this evening.

His hand gently wrapped around your throat. He gave it a little squeeze and an involuntary, playful smile formed on your face. His smirk grew, and so did the fire in him. “Like it when I choke you, huh doll?” he spoke, dragging the tip of his nose along your jaw as his other hand slipped under your skirt and rubbed your clothed core. He couldn’t take it any longer. “I need to have you.” he growled. “Now.”

He pushed his two fingers past your entrance with ease and moaned right in your ear as he felt your wet and warm walls immediately welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which made you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

Feeling more confident than earlier, you quickly unbuttoned his pants, palming him through his underwear and feeling his erection. You smirked to yourself as he grunted the moment you touched him.

“I want you…” you mumbled breathlessly. All your worries and overthinking left behind, you wanted him bad. And that’s all you could think of at the moment.

Bucky smirked. He lowered his pants and underwear, then he hurried in pulling down your underwear, letting it all fall and pool around your ankles. You stepped out of it and Bucky picked you up by your thighs and kissed you deeply while holding you between him and the metal surface tightly.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms held on to him tightly. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered through the kiss. Bucky needed to be in you already, all he wanted was to hear you scream his name as you cum around him. So he wasted no time in aligning his throbbing tip to your dripping wet entrance.

He pushed himself into you; stretching you out. His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratching at his shoulders as he filled you up; making you whine and moan as he went. You were both gasping by the time he filled you up entirely. His body didn’t feel as foreign as you expected. You two fit perfectly.

Bucky started rocking in and out of you, without wasting any time. You felt all of him; your walls clenched around his thick cock as he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. You felt all of him, the bumpy and the velvety skin of his length. He was perfect as he stroked your walls with his pulsating cock. You were a moaning mess in no time.  

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass; holding you against him, as he sped up into you; showing you how much he missed you. He pushed his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath, all while occasionally mumbling how much he loves you and how good you feel wrapped around him.

He fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. Your hand slid into his hair and you tugged on it each time he pushed into you. You soon felt the familiar pressure forming; pressing inside you as the familiar warmth spread all over your body. You moaned wantonly.

Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure; your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace; earning even more moans and mewls from you.

He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust; it hurt just a little. Your body moved along with his like a rag doll. And you never complained once. You could hear the wet sounds that he caused and the sounds of your skin clapping against each other – it was all too sinful.

He moaned right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back like it always did no matter where he took you. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher… and higher… and higher. Until you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming his name in the process.  

And that was one of the many times he made you cum around him that night…

 -End of flashback-

 Fuck…

You shivered in the warm water at the thought of him deep inside you; how perfect he felt, and how you never wanted to leave that bed with him in it. But then, you thought about how wrong that was; how you shouldn’t have gotten so intimate and personal with your boss. It was wrong, and unethical and a terrible mistake. But it felt good…

Stepping out of your bathroom, wrapped in a soft robe, you felt chills all over your body. Not because of the temperature, but because it felt as though you suddenly weren’t alone in your home. You panicked for a moment. Your heart racing, your thoughts racing faster.

Then you sensed it.

Sensed him.

He was here.

 “Miss Y/N.” He spoke in that damn voice which could make you drop to your knees in less than a second.

Yet you managed to maintain your composure as you slowly turned around to face him. Realization hit you a little late, and you gasped under your breath when you finally saw him standing in the middle of your bedroom. Your initial reaction was to hug your robe tighter around your body.

He looked flawless and powerful as always. Hands shoved in his pockets; accentuating his broad shoulders. That gorgeous smirk on his face. Flawless hair. Flawless face. Bucky smirked. “Oh don’t hide from me. I’ve seen it all, haven’t I?” he teased so effortlessly.

You felt your face getting hotter under his intense gaze. “How did you… how-,”

He cut off your rambling. “I own the building, doll.” he answered like it was the most obvious thing ever.

Right. Of course he owns your apartment building. He also owns half the city.

There was an air of arrogance around him at all times. And you tried so hard to hate it, but you couldn’t. It suited him; the arrogance, the power, the authority. And he sure knew how and when to use it.

You cleared your throat as you kept your eyes focused on the ground, rather than look into his stormy blues ones because they were a new weakness of yours. “You shouldn’t be here.” You mumbled, not hating that he was here.

He scoffed. “Oh?” he raised an eyebrow at you and took a few steps towards you. You were surprisingly not hysterical about the fact that this handsome man found his way into your home out of nowhere. He walked over to you, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him.

You had no other choice but to look up into his ocean blue eyes and you could feel yourself melting already. He pulled you closer and leaned in, gently kissing along your jaw repeatedly. You closed your eyes and tried your hardest not to sigh in pleasure or moan as you felt the softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubble altogether.

“I’ve missed you.” he whispered against your skin, stopping for a moment and kissed you at the corner of your mouth. His arms circled around you, holding you close to him. Your arms circled around him as well, slowly. You realized you had missed him as well. His warmth, his voice, his mouth. All of him.

And just like that, he took over your very being again. One touch of his lips and you were under his spell with no intention of making it out anytime soon. “I missed you too…” you whispered breathlessly as he kissed your lips gently.

But those few words from you triggered something in him. An irritation he had carried inside since he saw that letter of yours on his desk. Overflowing emotions he couldn’t handle; due to which he was here in the first place.

“Yeah?” he whispered through the kiss, then slide his hand into your hair and tugged on it to pull your face away from his. He clenched his jaw as he looked down at you. He was conflicted, should he be mad that you even dared to think you could just leave him, or should he just fuck some sense into you? “Yet you dared to leave me your resignation with no warning?” Oh. “Huh? Is that how it is now, you think you get to decide everything?”

Oh. So he was mad.

“I didn’t mean-,”

He kept going. “Shut up, babygirl.” He spoke softly. “Now you listen to me,” he inched closer, gently biting your lower lip, “You’re not leaving me. You’re not resigning. You’re not going anywhere.” He stated, then pulled away to look at you again.

There was a fire in his deep blue eyes. “We can’t keep doing this.” You tried to come up with something. An excuse. You were looking for an excuse.

“Why not?”

“It’s wrong.”

He scoffed and then smirked again. “Is it? Does being with me feel so wrong to you now, huh?” he cooed, knowing it was only a matter of another minute or two before you give into him. “That wasn’t the case this past weekend, was it?” He moved the two of you backwards, towards your bed in the middle of the room.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for too long now. But you still tried, in vain. You sighed loudly, wrapped in his strong embrace. “You’re my boss.”

He chuckled. “I know that.”

“Exactly.”

“What?” he questioned, already untying your robe as he stopped at the end of your bed.

“You know what. How are we supposed to be professional at work if we’re sleeping together?” you asked.

He smirked looking down at you. “Then let’s not be professional.”

You sighed again. “It’s-,”

He cut you off with a kiss again, sliding your robe down your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “Shh.” And just like that, you melted under his touch. “It’s okay babygirl, let me take care of you.”

He pushed you down on your bed and held your stare as he undressed himself; smirking as he watched how you grew more and more desperate with each item of clothing he took off. He hovered on top of you in no time.

Bucky lowered his face; pressing his forehead onto yours gently, while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned out loud as he did. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to adjust.

“Fuck…”

You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours.

He removed himself and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. You heard him panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you.

“Thought you could just leave me, huh? Thought I would let you?” he mumbled right in your ear as he fucked you relentlessly. “You thought I would let you go? Let someone else touch you, pleasure you, fuck you like this? Did you babygirl?” he growled. “Answer me!”

You whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. “No… please I didn’t-” you were breathless. You tried matching his thrusts but were unable to; so you simply let go. Your body moved against his like a rag doll.

He growled at how your walls clenched around him. “What? You didn’t what? You didn’t think I’d come back looking for you? You thought I would just let you go because you asked for it?” he accidentally let out a moan, followed by swear words. “You think you make the rules here, doll?”

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes were wild and fierce; staring deep into your soul. His gaze made you tremble in pleasure. He looked so powerful. Broad and strong, hovering above you, his cock buried deep in you. Looking down at you like he owned you.

He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. Given his size, he stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain.

Your legs trembled as you lifted them up to wrap them around his waist. This allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and in the haze he was in, he managed to mumble right in your ear about how good you felt. He was relentless, as though each moan, each mewl which left your lips only encouraged him to get more and more rough.

 At some point, right when your walls started clenching around him and when you were just about to come undone; he removed himself from you and flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his hard body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up again.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the thrill each time he felt himself thrusting deep within you.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Can you feel me deep within you?” he boasted as he gently squeezed the side of your throat. But hard enough to make you lose your mind.

“Please…” You could only moan and whimper in response while he kept pounding into you incessantly. You felt him quicken his pace as he chased his own orgasm. And finally he let you, and you came undone all around him – moaning his name out loud.

-

You woke up an hour later, the sky was darker and you felt a lot better than you had all week. You turned to your side and found your handsome boss passed out next to you. A smile formed on your face involuntarily.

“Don’t just look, you can touch too.” His gruff voice spoke up a second later, his eyes still closed. You chuckled and snuggled closer to him.

“So what now?” you asked, wrapping an arm around his bare torso. His body heat was something you were quickly getting used to.

He took a deep breath, smiled and lazily reached over to place a kiss on your forehead. “Now you let me love you.”

#ceo!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #marvel au

[dangerouslyallaboutdraco]

Friday Night

A/n: post-war Draco. Just some tooth-decaying fluff but maybe one of my favourite things I've written

"I'm home!" Draco yelled out as he closed the door to the flat.

He didn't get a reply as he put down his keys then his briefcase before taking off his loafers and untightening his tie.

Their flat was still welcoming, it had been since they brought it. All the muggle artwork Y/n brought home for them hanging on the walls and the east-facing widows always made the flat glow in the morning. It wasn't as big as the manor but it far more intimate and Draco had never felt more at home than he did here.

Now all he wanted was a hug from his girlfriend. He looked around the lounge to see if she was reading on the window seat and then the kitchen to see if she was baking as she often did. When she wasn't in any of her usual places he moved to their bedroom.

His search finally stopped when he heard the music coming through the bathroom door, accompanied by the steam. It was the same jazz music they played at a bar in London that Y/n enjoyed.

Everything in their house was so Y/n, and he had never adored anything more. Maybe her.

With a smile on his lips, he opened the door, stepped in and quickly closed it. The steam in the room flowing out the door was a sure sign that she wouldn't notice the interruption.

He took a seat on the edge of the bathtub, straightening his black suit jacket so it wouldn't crinkle as he watched her body sway in the shower. Her blurred figure was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Once she spent a few more minutes humming to the music she turned the shower off, wrapped a towel around herself and opened the glass door.

"Hey, there, pretty girl." Draco's words caused her visible fright, every muscle in her body tensing as she gasped and jumped up.

"Merlin, Draco!" She squealed as she walked over and punched him on the shoulder. "I hate you."

Draco couldn't do anything but giggle at how cute she was. She didn't kiss him as she usually did each night. "No, you love me." There was no use in replying, she knew he was right.

"Don't you love this song?" Her attention flicked to the trumpet playing through her muggle speakers as she spun around, holding the towel.

"I love you," Draco replied without a second thought.

Her attention was back on him now as she walked over and put her hands on his knees, he didn't even care about her damp fingertips getting the thigh of his suit pants wet. "You're such a sap."

He saw his opportunity to lean up and connect their lips.

"Hey!" She shouted, pulling off once she'd relished in the feeling of his lips. "I wasn't going to let you have that."

All he could do was give her a knowing smirk and reach up to rest his palm on her cheek. Draco swore he could feel his heart skip a beat as she nuzzled into his palm, even after all these years.

His whole heart was on fire in the best way. "Can I take you out for dinner, baby?" He asked, usual dazzling smile.

She nodded with a grin. "If that's your way of making it up to me, then yes."

That was all she said before she walked out of the bathroom door, and pulled him along. Once she was reached their bedroom she sat him down on the bed and walked into their closet, dropping her towel on the floor.

It took everything in him not to go after her but instead, he lay down on the bed and shut his eyes. For an indefinite amount of time, he stayed there.

Until he felt a warm breath on his face, much nicer than the jump scare he gave her. As he opened his eyes and sat up he was met with her absolute beauty. "Wake up, sleepyhead." She sang to him.

"'m not 'sleep." He said, his slurred words an ode to how tired he was.

She did a quick spin for him before she climbed into his lap, wrapping her legs around him. "You're so fucking cute." He told her, brushing a few stray hairs out of her face.

Quickly, she pulled away and got off his lap. "I did my hair and my makeup and put this dress on and all you can say is I'm 'cute.'"

"You are."

She sighed, loudly but Draco pulled her into his chest and smashed their lips together.

As soon as she was relaxing into it he pulled away. "Ready to go?" He now asked, being the one to pull her out of the room this time by their connected pinky fingers. She nodded as she followed him out the door, only breaking their contact to lock the door as Draco walked over to the elevator.

When she found his pinky finger again he was staring out the window, watching the sun set and the sky turn from orange to pink.

Draco was smart. But he would never understand two things.

1. How the sun could set every dusk and still look as beautiful

and

2. How, every day, Y/n could still look as beautiful, maybe more

"It's absolutely resplendent." She spoke, breaking the silence that had fallen.

Draco turned to look at her as she continued to watch the sun. "Wow, look at you reading your dictionary."

"It means attractive through impressive colours." She told him with a sigh, looking annoyed.

"So...you in that yellow dress?" He asked with a wide grin. "But you're also gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, pretty, lovely, charming, delightful, sensational, astounding, elegant, magnificent and dazzling."

"Look at you reading your thesaurus." She quipped his bon mot back at him.

As smooth as ever he replied with, "And together we're going to write some amazing stories."

#draco malfoy series #draco angst #draco x oc #draco fic #draco smut #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #dracomalfoy #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco x female reader #draco x muggle!reader #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x reader #draco x slytherin!reader #draco x gryffindor!reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco one shot #draco imagine #draco fluff #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco malfoy #malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff

[carryonthroughtheages]

Hello everyone!

Another year of Carry On Through The Ages is over and done! We have emotions and exhaustion, but we're so happy that this year had the hype and excitement that it did.

Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, to all of the AMAZING creators who spent the last several months working away at their historical content!

Thank you also to the hard-working mods: @bazzybelle, @giishu, @palimpsessed, and @xivz . This fest would not have been as successful as it has been without you!

We encourage everyone to look under the page break for all the fics and art. They're all fantastic!

Here is the link to the AO3 Collection: Carry On Through The Ages 2021!

Thank you all, and until next year! 🧡🧡🧡

MONDAY:

1) sun on the sea (T) - @trenchcoat-moth : AO3 // Tumblr

Tensions run high in England, and Malcolm decides it's for the best he sends Baz to live with Fiona, where he'll be safer.

That is, until Baz's ship is attacked.

2) The Words I Long To Say (M) - @bazzybelle : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow was dead.

Baz Pitch was sure of it. Simon had gone away seven years ago to fight a war in the jungle and he hadn't come home.

So, when Simon shows up in Baz's club, investigating a string of brutal murders, all Baz wants to do is hold him close and never let him go.

But these aren't the same boys from 1960 and Baz has a lot of processing to do before he's ready to believe in Simon again.

3) we are slaves to gods, whatever gods are (M) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 // Tumblr

I don’t fully understand what plagues him, but I know it’s bad, and I know it goes deeper than guilt. He didn’t want to kill his father, not really, but we were instructed to do so by Apollo. Cleanse the house of its sins, dispose of a murderer to set things right. It was only right that I join him; he was avenging my mother as much as his. Clearly, Apollo didn’t seem to consider that such an act would make Simon a murderer in his father’s place. It seems I got off fine, but as far as Simon is concerned, the vengeful spirits that once spun and danced on the roof of the palace now hunt him down, determined not to stop until he rids the world of himself.

4) World War II Era Art - @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr

TUESDAY:

1) the art of loving you (E) - @one-more-offbeat-anthem : AO3 // Tumblr

1955. London. Young love.

Forbidden love.

A year ago, starving artist Simon Snow met Baz Pitch, son of a wealthy art patron, at a party, and their days (and nights) together have been a wonderful secret.

But Simon is tired of being a secret and knows it's time for things to end.

(Baz has other ideas.)

2) Reliquary of an Arsonist (T) - @tea-brigade : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow grew up a ward of Watford Abbey, but when his magic manifested in an explosive accident as a child, he became the Abbey’s anchorite—never to leave Watford’s walls, for his own protection. That is, until Abbot David sends him on an important errand…

Basilton Pitch paints portraits for his patron, Lord Grimm. But he’s never forgotten the magic he learned from his mother—nor the men who condemned her to death as a heretic. When Simon arrives and offers Baz a commission from Watford Abbey, he sees his chance to avenge his mother once and for all...and he’s willing to burn down everything in his path to that end.

But it was no coincidence that pulled these two unlikely souls together. Something more sinister is underway at Watford Abbey, and only Simon and Baz can uncover the truth before everything goes up in flames.

3) Westward Son (E) - @aristocratic-otter : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon and Baz have found each other again, but there's nowhere in Brooklyn or Virginia where they can safely be together. So now, they venture the hazards and struggles of the Oregon trail, to perhaps find a little homestead in Oregon of their own.

4) A Way Out (T) - @lying-on-the-sofa : AO3

I frown at him..“You don’t know me.”

He offers his hand. “Simon.”

Simon. I feel the name around in my mind and assign it to his face. Simon. I don’t shake his hand. They’ve still got my arms pinned. “Basilton.”

Simon nods at me. “Now we know each other. Let him go.” Very casually, he takes his other hand from behind his back. A sword, flashing. He leans on it and smiles invitingly. “Let him go.”

This time, they listen.

--

Simon Snow has been trained for years to become a tribute—one of the fighters Athens sends every ninth year into the Minotaur’s labyrinth. He wants to know the way out, if only for Penny’s sake. Luckily for him, Prince Basilton of Crete also wants a way out—off the island, where no one will know he’s the half-brother of the Minotaur.

Unluckily for both of them, they don’t exactly form the most agreeable pair.

WEDNESDAY

1) long is the road the leads me home (G) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 (Version 1) (Version 2) // Tumblr

Baz has a rather unremarkable life, and he's fine with that. Running his late mother's beloved inn with his temperamental aunt, estranged from his father and step-siblings, he's successfully convinced himself that he's better off without attachments.

Then Simon barrels into his life, guns blazing and rapier drawn, and Baz is swept up in dramatic plot he never bargained for.

Worse still, he finds he quite likes the thrill.

2) New Romantics (T) - @ninemagicks : AO3 // Tumblr

Basilton Pitch, twenty-two years old and a famed poet of the Romantic era, has fled to the countryside. In Mummers House, the fabled haunt of literary greats, he sulks himself into oblivion and awaits a sad, disappointing end to his brief years of brilliance. The cause of his downfall? None other than Simon Snow, the so-called “bad boy of English poetry”, breaker of rules and eternal thorn in his side. Baz hopes that Mummers House might mean an escape from London, from Snow and his increasingly virulent popularity... but the rain that comes has other ideas.

3) thnétos (T) - @snowybank : AO3 // Tumblr

thnétos: subject to death, mortal

a retelling of Apollo and Hyacinthus

4) A Medieval AU art piece - @thewriterxj : Tumblr

THURSDAY

1) From Eden (E) - @orange-peony : AO3 // Tumblr

I wonder if his skin is warm or cold to the touch. I tell myself it’s simple curiosity, that I’m an artist and capturing things on paper or canvas is my way to make sense of the world. That drawing him feels so natural, so I should just follow my instincts. Ebb used to say it all the time. Follow your heart. It knows where you’re supposed to go.

I wish I could. I wish I had enough money and freedom to just draw what I want. To paint him in his unattainable beauty. To draw him the way I want to. Naked and vulnerable, raw. Without frills and expensive suits.

Just Baz on paper, my fingers tracing his delicate and beautiful lines with simple charcoal.

2) Slings and Eros (M) - @palimpsessed : AO3 // Tumblr

Young god of love Simonides is tasked by his father, the god of war, to bring about the ruin of a mortal prince to punish his blasphemy. However, once Simonides sees his intended victim, he begins to have misgivings. Prince Tyrannus might have offended the gods with his very existence, but all Simonides can see is how beautiful and lonely he is.

Or, a very loose interpretation of the Eros and Psyche myth.

3) I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire (M) - @knitbelove : AO3 // Tumblr

September 1940: Going back to Watford feels different this year, and not just because England is at the brink of war with Germany and Italy. Penelope seems unsettled by everything, and Agatha is distant, and Baz is … simply not here.

What if Carry On but during the Blitz?? Yeah.

4) A Fool's Oath (M) - @thewriterxj : AO3 // Tumblr

A simple soldier is invited to join the ranks of the royal guard. He and his appointed mage arrive at the royal city to find themselves at the mercy of an unmerciful court. As he struggles to find his place in this foreign environment, he also finds himself entranced by music that only he seems to hear that floats out about the city. He makes an oath to wed whoever makes such beautiful music.

Too bad that person is the crown prince.

FRIDAY

1) Stranger Tides (T) - @tea-brigade & @xivz : AO3 // Tumblr

“If some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure…” Captain Simon Snow of the Chosen One is many things—cunning, handsome, ruthless. Greedy. It’s no surprise that Snow finds a way to piss off the God of the Sea, he always manages to get himself into some type of trouble. This time, however, he’s not the only one who will suffer the consequences. Poseidon promises to not stop his pursuit until Snow and all of his men are dead.

Enter Basilton Pitch—rich, beautiful, mysterious. Suspicious. He offers the crew of the Chosen One a hefty sum to take him back to Europe from the Caribbean. And who is Captain Snow to refuse so much coin? After all, Greek gods aren’t real.

Right?

2) The wayward heir [comic] (M) - @letraspal : AO3 // Tumblr

Like a folk song, our love will be passed on. Simon Snow wants to be an artist. He used to live in Fiesole where he worked in the wool shop of his good friend Ebeneza Petty. He has now chosen to return to his native Florence in order to participate in an art contest hosted by the Pitch family, the most important bankers in all the three continents and Simon’s last chance for an art patronage. No matter how much he hates them.

But being back in Florence also brings back the memories Simon wanted to leave behind : his days as an orphan, the mystery about his mother, and once more being under the inquisitive eyes of his godfather, the new archbishop Davy. The archbishop is very same man who would never forgive him for dropping out the priesthood and ruining his secret plans against the Pitches.

The last thing Simon needed was an unbearably handsome jerk getting him into trouble on his very first day in Florence. How can focus when this man is the most annoying person he has ever met and yet his major source of inspiration.

3) Prohibition Blues (T) - @heyyyandrea : AO3

Simon Snow is a baker and aspiring playwright in Prohibition Era New York City. When he meets a handsome man at Shepherd's speakeasy who is interested in his work, he can't help but think it feels too good to be true.

4) Earth Below & Sky Above (M) - @phoxphyre : AO3 // Tumblr

In the depth of the palace of King Minos of Crete lurks a creature known as the Minotaur.

Baz, prince of Athens and chosen of the god Poseidon, has heard the stories. And now he’s volunteered to come to Crete as one of the annual tributes—to dance with the king’s bulls and fulfill his destiny. He just wants to survive the bulls, protect his people, and go home.

But what if the Minotaur isn’t a monster—but just a boy? And what if instead of slaying him, Baz fell in love with him?

A Carry On retelling of the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, set in Bronze Age Crete.

5) A 1980s AU Art piece by @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr // Instagram (Slightly NSFW)

#carry on through the ages 2021 #carryonthroughtheages2021 #carry on through the ages #COTTA 2021 #COTTA2021 #masterlist #historical fanart #historical fanfiction #historical AU #historical #ancient history au #renaissance au #medieval au #regency AU #pirate AU #highwayman AU #mythology au #classical mythology au #WWII AU #1950s AU #1920s AU #1960s AU #1980s AU #amazing writing #amazing writer #amazing art #amazing artist #simon snow #baz pitch #the simon snow trilogy

[bvidzsoo]

Late night Drifts

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warning: physical abuse (nothing descriptive); swearing

 Pairing: Hansol Vernon Chwe x female reader

 Word count: 18, 157

 Summary:  Being top of your class was everything your parents have ever wanted. You were the perfect daughter, however, it was only them who were happy. Your life was stressful and filled with sleepless nights studying, just to please your parents. Until one day you discovered racing, and realized, it was the only way you could unwind all the accumulated stress. And it just so happened that one day you overheard your classmate, Vernon, talking about an illegal race taking place that night. You knew it was your cue, so with rolled up cash left on his desk, you made it clear you were challenging him. He wins = he gets a date / You win = he teaches you how to drift.

 A/N: Hello, hello lovelies! And off we go with the first part of this series! I tried out something different this time, I hope it’s not weird and it’s still good, I’m a little nervous about it tbh. All the sentences in italic are the reader’s direct thoughts! I’ve never written in second person before so uhm...I hope it’s still fine. I hope you’ll like it and please let me know your thoughts. If there are people interested, I could even start a Taglist, I guess! Enjoy now!

Series M.List ~ Next Part

           When younger, you’d quietly complain to yourself about having to wake up early in the morning, around 6 am, just to have breakfast with your parents; but as the years passed it just became a routine. You weren’t bothered by it anymore, sometimes, you’d even wake up earlier than you were supposed to. Like today, at 5:30 am, your eyes were wide open as you stared up at the platinum white ceiling of your huge bedroom. You knew it was the anxiety making you feel like this, the fear of having to face your father and mother today seemed to be more intense than usually, after all, you were getting your grading sheet at school. You hated days like today, you hated getting your grades. It was horror to sit through school, anxious, only to return home to get yelled at by your father, because once again, you failed to score higher at English than Vernon. Vernon Hansol Chwe. He was your nightmare at school. It wasn’t what he did directly to you, because there were almost little to no incidents, it’s what he indirectly made you go through. You hated him, but didn’t at the same time. It wasn’t his fault, and you were aware of that, but you couldn’t help the glare or sudden anger that engulfed you whenever you looked at him. If he only wasn’t as good at English as he was, all the torment from your parents would’ve been non-existent.

You were the perfect daughter, the one every parent wished to have and every parent praised whenever they met up with your parents and you. You were perfect, in their eyes, yes. You always listened to what your parents said, you didn’t talk back or disobeyed them, and most importantly, you always pleased them and got high grades. It would’ve been a shame if you didn’t, your father was a scientist and your mother a doctor. They wanted you to become either this or that, but you, you didn’t know. You had no idea what you actually liked doing, you never really had hobbies or free time to try out different things like any other normal kid did while growing up. That is, until, you stumbled upon some abandoned race tracks and saw a woman in her car going at a high speed, drifting around the curbs, and sporting the happiest and most careless expression you’ve ever seen on someone’s face. It struck you, you never felt like that before. You wanted to feel like that so badly. You just ran away from home, with the excuse that you joined a new study group to help you out with Chemistry, but the truth was that you just needed air and time away from your overwhelming parents. You weren’t even supposed to be in this part of the city, people could smell from miles away that you were rich and just by stealing your purse, they’d make millions. But you didn’t care, because in this part of the city, it seemed like people only stared at your for what you looked like, without too judgmental looks on their faces. It was weird, but refreshing. After the woman stopped, got out of the car and ruffled her long hair, you gathered all your courage and walked up to her, and asked her to take you on a round with herself. She was reluctant, but once she saw the desperate look in your eyes, she obliged and you were inside her car, screaming your lungs out at all the sharp and harsh turns she took. It was scary, but freaking awesome. You felt high on adrenaline and when she stopped the car, her name being Lexa, you begged her to teach to drive like that. Your driving instructor never taught you about speed, but this woman seemed to know it all. Lexa was reluctant, but she complied once again, when she saw the desperate look in your eyes. And that is how you became obsessed with racing, cars, and chasing that adrenaline that made you feel free and careless. It was the only hobby you had, the only thing your parents couldn’t control in your life, simply, because they didn’t know about it. And you preferred to keep it that way, knowing well the repercussions if they ever found out. But for you to be able to attend the events and races, you needed a good car. So, when you finished last year as first in your whole high school, your father granted your wish and bought you a Vaydor G37. The car was expensive, but freaking awesome. You knew you’d be better than half of the amateur racers, even though, you were one too. But for now, that didn’t matter, as you played with your fingers in your lap, waiting for the maid to place your breakfast in front of you. You could feel your father’s sharp gaze on you, but you ignored it as you glared at the table. Your mother hadn’t joined the table yet, that’s why you weren’t eating yet.

“John told me he had to change the tires to the Vaydor,” You looked up to meet your father’s gaze, knowing he hated it when you didn’t, “It’s the third time this month. Explain.”

You gulped, but kept your expression neutral, he can’t find out, “I didn’t pay attention when I got them changed and instead of the summer tires, they put on the winter ones. That was the first time. Second time, I got a puncture while I rode back home from school, a screw was left on the road from the new construction site and I didn’t know. And uhm…I’m not sure what was wrong the third time, but the vibrations coming from the tires felt wrong, I thought…it would be best to get them changed.” But the truth was that you raced too hard and burned out your tires, all adherence gone, which made it impossible for you to ride around the streets with them.

Your father didn’t say anything as he looked at you with a hard expression, tying to decipher if you were lying or saying the truth, “Safety comes first, Y/N, don’t forget that.”

“Yes, father.” You muttered and looked up at your mother as she walked in with a wide smile. Your father looked at her and his eyes instantly turned soft and he waited until she sat next to him, to press a kiss to her cheek. He was only ever like that to her, kind and lovely, never to you. You honestly thought your father hated you because you weren’t born to be a boy, like he so desperately wanted. Yet, he never tried to have another child with your mother, you figured he had enough of you and just didn’t want to bother with raising another kid. Your mother looked at you just as the maids finally walked in with your breakfast, placing the plates in front of you. Your stomach rumbled quietly and it made your mom chuckle as your father took the first bite, and then you both followed suit. It was the same old breakfast: toast with boiled eggs, a few slices of tomato and butter. Sometimes you’d get hot cocoa, if your father was in a good mood, but most of the time you were served with orange or apple juice. Today, water with lemon was served and as much as you were craving the taste of oranges, a little switch from your usually boring routine was nice, even if so small and almost insignificant.

“When will you know your grades?” Your father asked again, voice hard and you bit your lower lip as you lowered your knife and fork.

“Today, actually.” You answered, trying to hide the tremor in your voice, but it was pretty obvious.

“Great, I will make sure to come home early then.” He said and the grip on your knife tightened as you tried to hide the anger and fear mixing together in your stomach, hating the words your father said. But it made your mother squeal as she smiled at him brightly.

“That’s amazing news, honey! Let’s go have dinner, shall we?” She was the only excited one, your father actually started glaring at you, and you realized it was because you were glaring at him. Sometimes, your control over your body slipped and you did things subconsciously.

“Yes,” Your father spoke, turning his head away from you to look at his wife, “Let’s go have dinner, Y/N should—”

“I have a study group at 18:00 today, I won’t be able to join you, I’m sorry.” You interrupted your father, not caring right now that he hated being interrupted by you, as you let your parents know in a hurry that you weren’t available today. And actually, you weren’t even lying. You really did have to study for English, you hated to say it, but you were feeling uneasy after your last exam and thought you could work on it. A new guy from America showed up two weeks ago, DK, and when you heard he offered to help out those in need, you knew you needed to sign up. Vernon was from America too, that’s why you never could beat him, he was better as he was fluent. Your mother was American too, but she never bothered to teach you much English, either too busy with work or with your father. She wasn’t a bad mom, just neglectful sometimes.

“You study so hard, my dear.” Your mother’s arm extended over the mahogany table and you extended your own arm, letting her grip it, “How about this…if you get a good grade for your English exam, we go on a small vacation this weekend?”

That actually sounded wonderful, you couldn’t help but smile, warmness filling your insides. You missed spending time with your mom, but of course, your father had to ruin it all.

“We shouldn’t…I can’t this weekend.” Of course, he couldn’t. The only important things for him were work, antagonizing you, and taking your mother on expensive dates.

“Honey,” Your mother let go of your arm to cup her husband’s cheek, “It’s not a crime if the two of us spend a little time together, it’s been long since we had a mother-daughter get-away, right, Y/N?”

You quietly nodded your head, hopeful that your father would let it slide this time, but of course, he wouldn’t, “If Y/N scores a 10/10, you can go.”

You gulped, hating how trusting your mother’s gaze was, how happy she looked, “Of course, honey, she’ll definitely get the highest score. She’s our daughter after all…”

Yes, unfortunately, I’m your daughter.

           After breakfast you quickly got dressed for school, your uniform still warm from getting ironed a few minutes before you had to put it on. You hated wearing skirts to school, but you had no other choice as it was in the dress code. You fixed your hair and painted your lips a soft pink, smiling to yourself in the mirror. Not because you were happy, but because you didn’t want everyone to see how miserable you were. You didn’t have any friends; besides Yoona, you didn’t want any more rumors than the ones already circulating around you. They said all kinds of things about you, but neither was true. They weren’t necessarily bad, besides the one calling you a freak and saying you broke someone’s hand in your freshman year; you didn’t. But people weren’t very fond of you nonetheless and you didn’t want to add onto the list of why you should be more disliked than you already were. You knew the smile looked far from genuine, but it was better than nothing, it lessened the harsh expression of your face. It probably got like that due to your father’s constant pressure hanging over your shoulders.

The car ride was silent, John stirring up casual conversation with your father from time to time, as he drove you to school before driving your father to work. Your car was still in the car-service, actually, Jihoon got a new engine that you were more than happy to test out for him. He was the one who approached you, surprisingly, after your first won race. He said he liked your car and could smell the money from miles away; he offered to help out with your car if you raced on his behalf from time to time. You seriously didn’t need the money, but it sounded like fun and it was weird how impressed everyone was by Jihoon talking to you, so you accepted out of curiosity. It took you a month to realize he was part of the Lee family, being the eldest son actually, and that they owned the streets at night when racing. He truly was the best, both at racing and fixing cars. Sometimes you’d even drop off cash anonymously at his house, when you wouldn’t need it anymore, and you had a feeling he knew but stayed silent about it. Both of you knew that he needed the extra cash from time to time.

Your attention was brought to John when he stopped the car, unlocking the doors. You were parked at the front gates of your high school, you sighed as you grabbed the doorhandle of the car. Partially you were happy to be here just because you would be away from your father and mother.

“Y/N,” Your heart jumped to your stomach when your father called out your name, deep voice booming in the car, “If you don’t score 10/10, I will have to believe you are incompetent and unable to perform well in a private high school. If you don’t raise your score by the end of the semester, your name will be cut from the family tree and I will throw you out without a second thought.”

A cynical smirk appeared on your lips as you opened the door and turned to look at your father, “You can’t throw out a minor, father, unless you want me to go to the police and press magazines. I’m sure they are buzzing to know more about the mysteriously wealthy and handsome Mr. Seo, don’t you think?”

His jaw clenched and John gulped loudly, shaking his head as subtly as he could at you, as you hurriedly got out of the car. You never talked back to your father, you had no idea what came over you, but you felt so fed up with his threats. If only he knew cutting ties with him sounded like heaven to you. You didn’t care if you ended up on the streets as long as it was away from him, you were never hungry for money or greedy for it. You didn’t care about it, you just wanted love from the two figures who were supposed to raise you. Instead, one hated you and the other one was barely ever home.

“Have a good day at work, both of you.” You bowed deeply before closing the door of the vehicle, staring at the tinted window of the backseat. You waited until John drove away and you couldn’t see the car anymore. A strong gush of cold wind suddenly blew through the area and it made you realize that you were glaring at nothing, once again. You hated how little consideration he took of your feelings and how little he made you feel. Your father truly was the devil.

            Yoona’s schedule was rather packed on Monday’s and Wednesday’s, so you couldn’t meet up with her during classes. Which maybe was a good idea, poor girl, you hoped she didn’t think you only used her to have someone to complain to, but you seriously had no one else to talk to. You loved Yoona and how open she was and ignorant to the rumors about you, she was always quick to shut others up. She was only a year older, yet she felt like a mother to you sometimes.

The day passed by incredulously fast and you made sure to take notes in each class, until it was homeroom class time. Your legs were bouncing up and down nervously and loudly as you tried not to bite your nails, a bad habit you were trying to get rid of. Usually, you weren’t this nervous, but your father reminding you of his threat this morning and your reckless answer made you realize if you indeed didn’t score 10/10 at English, you were truly fucked, and you hated the sudden ache of your stomach. It seemed like you were the only one so stressed out as your classmates kept shouting around you, joking and chatting, making your ears ring. All you could do was stare at the door anxiously, waiting for your homeroom teacher to enter this damned classroom already. But the bell didn’t even ring yet, it’s still break time, you sighed and bit your lower lip, trying to calm your nerves. You didn’t mean to, but your eyes fell on a boy and your eyebrows instantly furrowed. His right arm was resting on his desk, his right cheek on it as he slept. He looked so peaceful and carefree that it angered you more. How could he just sit there, sleep there, when you were about to get your grades? You knew he didn’t give a shit about his grades, yet he was always top of your class, breathing down your neck all the time. When you started high school, you never thought you’d meet someone almost as smart as you, and that you’ll be challenged. But Vernon…he just wrecked your life and made it a bigger hell than it already was, and tears almost came to your eyes as you couldn’t look away from his peaceful form. You were jealous and angry, wishing that could be you right now. As your eyes lingered on him, you realized, his cheekbones were high and sharp, almost hollow looking like. You hardly ever paid attention to guys, you didn’t have the time nor energy to put into them, but sometimes you caught yourself dozing off and staring at the back of Vernon’s head. He wasn’t special, far from it, he looked quite normal yet his beauty felt a little foreign, compelling. That was another reason to hate him for, and you never thought more of it, content with the current thoughts of him. You didn’t like him, but you didn’t deny that he was somewhat attractive either. Yet, your heart still started thumping quickly when Vernon’s eyes opened abruptly and made eye contact with you almost instantly, as if he knew you were staring. You averted your eyes and straightened your stance, refusing to look back at the boy, even if he continued staring at you. You never really spoke to him, you didn’t have a reason to, only greeted him in the mornings if you arrived after him…but you did greet everyone, after all. Your legs started bouncing again as Vernon wouldn’t look away and it made the hairs on your arms raise, your anxiety doubling. Why is he staring now? Does he think I like him or something? Maybe he knows I don’t like him? But your attention was brought back to the door as it opened just as the bell rang, and your homeroom teacher in walked. The voices in the classroom started dying down and even Vernon looked away from you, siting up straight in his chair. You were glad, you didn’t think you’d be able to ignore him for longer if your teacher wouldn’t have walked in. You donned out every voice that was still speaking, you even ignored your teacher’s usual speech about how grades weren’t important and that they didn’t actually reflect your knowledge about life…if only he knew what he was speaking. So, you just sat there silently, anxiously waiting for your sheet.

Which turned out to be more and more difficult as you were amongst one of the last ones, for once, making you hate the fact that your family name was ‘Seo’. You have successfully eaten three nails by the time your teacher called out your name and you raised from your chair, legs feeling a bit like jelly, as you rigidly walked up to his desk to take the sheet from him. Your hands shook and you hoped no one noticed, but when you turned to walk back to your seat, you were surprised to see Vernon squinting his eyes at you as he was watching you, once again. Did I draw too much attention onto myself by looking at him? This wasn’t the first time though, why is he suddenly so attentive of me? You ignored his burning gaze as you finally started walking back to your seat, gripping the sheet tightly in your hands. You were curios but also afraid to look. Vernon got his sheet a while ago and you tried to read his expression, but he only shrugged and placed the sheet between his notebooks, seemingly unimpressed. You were hopeful it was because he scored lower this time, but you couldn’t be very sure, he reacted the same way each time.

Finally sitting in your own chair, you took in a deep breath and opened the sheet, staring at the names of the subjects and then the grade next to it.

“Don’t forget kids, I tell you this each time, but I feel like saying this again. Grades don’t define us and you can be whoever you want to be in life, or do whatever you want to do, despite the grades on that paper—”

Your whole body ran cold as your hands started shaking hard, chest constricting as if your lungs stopped getting enough air to be able to function. Your eyes ran over and over again the same row, your brain refusing to acknowledge the information. English: 9,55. You hated what you were seeing, you hated what your teacher was saying, you hated how carefree and light everyone around you seemed to be, you hated Vernon’s gaze burning into the side of your head. You suddenly couldn’t bear sitting in that classroom anymore, it seemed rowdy and hot, your head started pounding painfully as you jumped up from your chair, knocking two notebooks and your sheet off the table. All the eyes on you made your chest tighten further and your eyes snapped towards your teacher when you heard him calling out to you.

“Miss Seo, is everything alright?” You really wanted to answer him, but when you opened your mouth to say something, nothing came out. Embarrassed and unable to take the looks you were getting by your classmates, Vernon’s confused gaze, you stepped around your chair and took off, uncaring of the repercussions. Your teacher called out your name once again, sounding more worried this time, and you glared at Vernon when he still didn’t look away, knocking onto his table on purpose, which made his pencil case and notebook fall to the floor. And with that, you were out of the classroom and running towards the girls restroom, hearing footsteps following you hurriedly. You knew your teacher sent someone after you to make sure that you wouldn’t do anything reckless, and it made you want to cry that your own teacher was more worried about your wellbeing than your own parents. You hoped the person realized you ran out because you wanted to be alone, and that they wouldn’t follow you inside the restroom, and when they actually didn’t, you broke down crying in front of the mirror, turning on the faucet to silence your sobs a little bit. I don’t want to go home.

           You hated the looks your classmates were giving you after your breakdown, but some were nice enough to check up on you. You didn’t like the attention and the fact that you had to lie to them, but it warmed your heart a bit that not everyone was heartless and mean to you. You were surprised to see your things neatly placed in your bag after you returned from the restroom with a girl, Hanna, who your homeroom teacher sent after you to keep you company until you felt better. You wanted to ask who did that, because you wanted to thank them, but decided to stay quiet and just lay low for the rest of the day as rumors of you already spread through school like wildfire. You hated it, but you tried to ignore them…and Vernon too. He shot you a questioning gaze after you got back to class, but you acted like he wasn’t even there. Your gut was telling you that it was him who gathered your stuff from the floor and placed it back into your bag, but why would he do that? You were never very nice to him, and you even knocked his stuff off on purpose when you ran out. Fed up with your constant thoughts of Vernon and what others would say now about you, you blocked everything out and hurriedly gathered your things once the final bell rang, signaling that school was over for the day. You were glad that you could finally leave this place, but your stomach ached when you remembered you had to return home, to meet your father. Running away right now sounded like the smartest thing to do, but once you left your high school, you stopped and looked up towards the sky. The sun was high up and shinning down, creating a warm atmosphere and you looked around to observe that everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Kids were laughing and hanging onto their friends as they groaned about how hard school could get, others kids were excitedly talking about what homecooked meal their mothers made, and some were just hurriedly leaving through the gates. You smiled, but it was a sad smile, because you never experienced any of those feelings. You wished your mother would be at home, waiting for you with a homecooked meal, and that your father would arrive earlier from work and praise you for your grades, deciding to take the three of you out to the arcades. But those were dreams you’d never experience, and rather than continuing to hurt yourself with such fantasies, you took off with a sigh. You followed the path that lead to the iron gates of the high school and bowed your head a little to greet the gatekeeper, who was happy to see you. Not many kids were respectful toward the old man, but you didn’t think lower of him just because of his job, sometimes you’d sneak cookies from home and share them with him. As the weather was a lot warmer than in the morning, you took your scarf off and gasped when something hit your shoulder. You were expecting someone to be picking on you, but when you turned your head and looked at the girl leaning against the stone wall, you let a chuckle fall from your lips.

“I told you to throw your garbage in the trash cans, Yoona.” You scolded the older girl, picking up her cigarette butt to throw it into the nearest trash can later.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoona rolled her eyes, lighting another cigarette, “What the hell happened today? Your crazy classmates wouldn’t stop talking about how you stormed out after you got your grades.”

You grimaced as you leaned against the stone wall next to your friend, “I didn’t get a 10/10.”

Your answer was direct and Yoona sighed, glancing at you as she puffed out the smoke of her cigar. She knew about your parents, but not the whole truth. She only knew about them being obsessed with your grades and that they were very controlling and harsh to you. You didn’t dare tell her the other things, afraid she’d do something about it, getting you in more trouble.

“Oh, Y/N…” Yoona’s expression was sad and you melted into her hug as she put her arms around you, on the verge of crying, “If it feels too much later on, call me…or come to the races with me, you don’t have to compete or anything. Just be there.”

You hummed and circled your arms around your friend, feeling a bit better as Yoona’s familiar perfume entered your nostrils, “It’s a Wednesday, you know I can’t go out…and I have an English tutor now, we are meeting later for our first session.”

“Oh, really?” Yoona’s interest peaked as she finally pulled herself away from you, patting your cheek, “Do I know him?”

“Maybe, it’s this new guy from America…calls himself DK.” You muttered, puckering your lips at the hilarious name he went by. Yoona’s expression hardened and she scoffed as she finished her cigar, not looking very pleased.

“You know him?” You asked curiously, Yoona not being one to dislike someone.

“Of course,” She rolled her eyes and pushed off the stone wall, dragging her leather jacket tightly around her body, “He’s in my class. He’s very annoying, tries hard to befriend everyone and won’t shut up. He’s not even smart, most of the time only says stupid things—”

“Okay,” You raised up one hand to stop Yoona from rambling, throwing her an amused smile, “What did he do to you that you don’t like him?”

Yoona just rolled her eyes, displeased by how much you knew her already, “He’s all up in my business, won’t leave me alone after he heard me talking to my friend from the U.S. Fucking idiot…”

You started giggling loudly, making Yoona glare at you, but your laughter was contagious and she ended up giggling too, “You’ll figure it out, Yoona.”

“Yeah…hopefully before Johnny decides to smash in his nose.” Her tone turned sour and you gave her a pitiful look, knowing her relationship with Johnny hadn’t been the best lately. Yoona just sighed and you patted her side, reassuring her that you were there for her if she needed someone to complain to. The sudden sound of engine roaring caught your attentions and Yoona turned stiff, looking to the road, where a black car pulled up. The window rolled down and Johnny’s face came in view.

“Speaking of the devil…” You muttered quietly, making Yoona smirk at you.

“Hello, ladies.” Johnny greeted the two of you with a charming smile and Yoona looked at him before back at you.

“Want us to give you a ride home?” You appreciated her offer, but you didn’t know if your dad was already at home. He didn’t mind Yoona very much, he knew her parents, but he hated Johnny and actually forbid you from meeting up with him or with them when they were together. You didn’t want to test the waters furthermore today; you had already done enough in the morning and now with your grade too.

“No, no,” You shook your head quickly, declining her offer nicely, “You can go. I have to pick up some books either way, you don’t have to bother with me…”

Yoona nodded and took off towards her boyfriend’s car, but when she opened the door, she turned back to look at you and mouthed, “Liar.”

You chuckled and waved at them as Johnny gave you a nod before pressing a strong kiss against your best friend’s lips, leaving her with a sour expression as he rolled the window up and took off, the engine of the car creating disturbance to the pedestrians. You looked down at the other cigarette butt Yoona dropped and picked it up with a sigh, dropping it into your pocket, where the other one was. She never listened to you when you told her to throw them away into a trash can, so it became by now a routine to pick them up and throw them away yourself. You took off once again, headed home for real this time, your stomach churned nervously as you played with the cigarette butts in your pocket. Your parents knew you didn’t smoke, they stopped checking up on that since you turned sixteen, so you weren’t afraid of smelling like it. Besides, they knew most kids your age smoked and that it could just easily get into your clothes and hair when you walked by. You sighed at the thought of your parents and tried to enjoy the sun on your skin, welcomed after the cold winter you had. It was hard to walk home, because you were anxious, but the pleasant weather made you slow your usual long strides as you passed the corner of the high school and turned onto the next street. You took the two cigarette butts between your fingers and threw them into the trash can on the side walk as you walked by it, your scalp feeling itchy. Sometimes you made your ponytail too tight and it left your scalp sore, so you quickly undid the tight hold, releasing your long black hair. You thought of cutting it, it was slowly nearing the middle of your back, but your mother said a feminine woman needs her long hair, that it’s precious, and you should never wear it too short. That’s why your hair always reached your scapulas or even longer. I always wondered how I’d look with short hair…it can’t be that bad, right? Your thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly became aware that someone was walking right next to you. You became stiff and ready to speed up, uncomfortable, but when you stole a glance at the person walking next to you, your feet came to an abrupt stop. So did the person, who was scratching his nape awkwardly, looking at your guiltily.

“Uh, sorry.” Vernon’s voice was loud here, the cars and people walking by you were being loud, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me.” You answered him too quickly, body stiff as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, still…” He cleared his throat and you became curious, he never really spoke to you directly, unless you were paired up for a group project during class, “I just wanted to ask you…”

You raised your eyebrows, curiously looking at Vernon, a little annoyed that he was stalling, “What?”

“Are you alright?” Your eyebrows furrowed at his question and you glanced around, feeling uneasy. Why is he suddenly so curious about how I feel? It’s really not his business.

“I’m fine, why?” You snapped, crossing your arms in front of your chest in a way to show him you weren’t too fond of this conversation.

“Just wanted to check up on you.” Vernon muttered as he kept looking at you, the sunlight lighting his features. His skin had a warm glow and he was squinting as he was standing facing the sun, his brown eyes were lighter than you had anticipated them to be.

“Well…” You cleared you throat, feeling a bit flustered, “You didn’t have to.”

Vernon hummed and nodded his head a little, biting his lower lip, an action which caught your attention, “I know…you ran out of class and you didn’t look too good. Just wanted to make sure you’re better now—”

Your inhale was sharp and it alerted Vernon as your eyes snapped back up to look him in the eyes. Your heart was beating like crazy and you knew your face turned hard as Vernon gulped; you took a step to lessen the distance between the two of you, “Stay out of my business, Vernon, you already make my days a nightmare as they are.”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, clearly taken aback by your threatening tone and sentence, not having expected such hostility coming from you. After all, he never did anything wrong to you…directly. He looked lost for a second, you felt bad for being so mean to him, but before he could form a sentence, you turned and rushed away, willing yourself to catch the green cross light, which would turn red by the time Vernon realized you were running away and would stop him from following you. Your heart was beating fast as you turned to look back, to see him standing at the cross dumbfounded, his eyebrows furrowed as he raised one hand as if to ask you to wait for him. You were pretty good at reading people; you had anticipated his moves. You shook your head at him and took off, Vernon losing sight of you in the mass of people walking on the sidewalk.

           You were studying in your room when you heard the front door open and slam closed. Your hands suddenly started shaking as your mother’s laughter carried through the big apartment you lived in, your father’s voice next as he answered her question. You dreaded this moment, you knew it was coming, but you were hoping it would come later. You knew your father was expecting you in his study, so, you rose from your desk and pulled your hair in a low ponytail. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hated your expression; anyone would be able to see how scared you looked. You started glaring at yourself, trying to stop this horrible feeling brewing inside you, as you pointed a finger at yourself in the mirror.

“Stop it!” You snapped at yourself quietly, “Whatever happens, happens. Walk out there with your head up and don’t say anything unnecessary!”

When you heard your mother’s heels clicking getting closer and closer, you quickly grabbed the sheet and hurried to your door, opening it just as your mother raised her knuckle to knock.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed with a wide smile and placed her palm on your cheek, “Looking pretty today, how do you feel?”

You remained expressionless as you looked at your mother, jealous of her good mood, “Fine, I’ll go see father now.”

“Oh, right!” She exclaimed again and stepped out of your way, shooing you away, “We are supposed to leave in thirteen minutes for our date, don’t keep him up! Also, we should look for some vacation cabins in the mountains for our get-away—”

“We are not going anywhere!” You snapped and turned your head to look at your mother, jaw clenched. How could she not pick up on my mental state? How could she not read my expression when I’ve been hers for seventeen years? When she was my mother?

“Oh…” She cleared her throat, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Why…”

“I didn’t get the grade.” You muttered and sighed, taking off towards your father’s office. It was on the other end of the apartment and you had time to even out your expression and calm your erratic heartbeat for at least a while. When you stopped in front of the big, black, door you took a deep breath and ignored your mother, who was headed to their shared bedroom, and knocked on your father’s office door. There was a grunt coming from inside and you knew it was your cue to walk in, so, you opened the door with more force than needed and walked in, leaving the door open. He hated it, but you felt like you’d need to escape tonight, it made you feel safer. Your father glanced at his door and then at you before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. You didn’t sit as you came to a stop in front of his desk, just reached your hand out for him to take the sheet. He nodded once and took it, eyes running over the paper. Your heart started beating quickly once again and you clasped your hands behind your back to stop yourself from biting your other nails you didn’t get to in school. Involuntarily, your left foot started tapping against the floorboards of the office and you gulped as you looked straight ahead when your father’s eyes fell on you.

“What did I say?” His voice was hard, sheet crumbled up in his hands. Don’t answer him, let him scream at you, “I thought I was clear.”

When he fell silent you didn’t know what to do or say, so you just let your head hang low, avoiding eye contact with your father, “You are telling me that you’re unable to get a 10/10 at English? When your mother is American?! Is your brain perhaps too little for you to comprehend what you have to learn?! Are you dumb, Y/N?!”

That felt like the last straw. I’m not dumb, I’m more competent than you once were! Your eyes snapped up to meet your father’s, your glare melting into his, “How am I dumb? I got a 9,55, father! And I got a 10/10 at everything else! I’m top of my class and high school! What more do you want?!”

Your voice broke at the end of the sentence, and your body shook, you have never raised your voice at your father. He looked shocked for a second, but in a second also, he was up and storming around his desk to reach you.

“You ungrateful scum!” He shouted loudly, his deep voice made you jump, “I feed you! I give you money! I buy you clothes! I put a roof over your head! And this is how you pay me back? By talking back and thinking you are better than me?!”

“When did I ever say that—” The words died in your throat as the back of your father’s palm slammed into your cheek harshly. Your eyes widened as your head snapped to the other side, tears instantly sprung to your eyes. You remained like that, unmoving and quiet, fighting with your tears. I’d rather die than cry right now. Your father scoffed and you felt the sheet hit your head as he threw that at you as well, as he turned away from you.

“You have three months to fix your mistakes, Y/N. After that, I will not see you anymore in this house.” You gulped at his words, straightening once he walked away and you knew he wouldn’t hit you again. You remained in front of his desk as he walked towards his door, about to get changed for his date with your mother. A broken chuckle left your lips as you looked up at the ceiling, one single tear rolling down your cheek. Better make his life hell in those three months!

“I can’t wait to leave this fucking hell!” You hissed, unaware that your father didn’t leave the room yet. He hesitated taking his next step as he looked back at you with furrowed eyebrows, taken aback by your words.

“I wish I was never born into this fucking family.” At this point, you didn’t even care if he was still standing in the doorway or not, it just felt good to speak your mind aloud. You wanted to shout at the top of your lungs for your parents to hear what you had to say. You wanted everyone to know. I hate them. Your father gulped as he took one final look at you, his jaw clenched, before he shook his head and walked away with a scoff. All he could think of was that you were a spoiled, ungrateful brat. Meanwhile, all you could think of was the day you’d finally be able to run away. In three months, you’d turn eighteen, school would finally end, and you’d leave this shithole you hated with your whole heart. Screw them both, who gives a fuck about them anyways?

           That night you went to bed crying, which resulted in having a puffy face once you woke up. Your study session with DK wasn’t very successful and once he realized you just weren’t in the right state of mind to study, he dismissed you and set another appointment for next week, saying your English was almost better than his and that you didn’t even need tutoring. You knew that, but you were hopeful that if DK helps you out, on your next exam you’ll get a 10/10 just to spite your father before you move out. While crying, you have decided, that no matter what, in three months you were out of that place. You didn’t want to stay there anymore, you’d rent out a small apartment downtown, find a job and finish your last year of high school. You knew your mother would secretly support you and give you enough money to survive for months, but you didn’t want anything that was theirs anymore…especially their money. When you looked in the mirror to get ready for a new day, all you could do was sigh. Your eyes were big and red and you knew you’d have to spend half an hour just pouring cold water on them to make the swell go away. But when you pulled your hair in a bun, you knew the greenish-bluish bruise on your right cheekbone wouldn’t go away with cold water, you had to put on makeup. This is why you didn’t tell Yoona exactly everything about your family, especially your father, she would’ve reported it without a second thought. You disliked your parents, yes, but they were still your parents. Right now, they were everything you’ve got and you could make them suffer in different, much more effective ways. You decided to let your hair rest freely today, knowing it would offer more cover for your cheek, even if the expensive foundation and color corrector did their jobs fairly well. At breakfast you didn’t speak at all to your parents and you refused to ride with John and your father to school, taking the bus instead as you were running late a bit to be walking. You were in a bad mood all day and everyone could see it, even Yoona, who was a lot more cheerful than yesterday. She promised to hang out with you at lunch break and you were thankful, you felt like you needed to be in her presence today. Vernon was becoming plain annoying with his constant staring and his attempt to talk to you in one of the short breaks you had between classes, which alerted everyone from your class. You threw him a harsh glare and he understood that you wanted nothing to do with him, so he went back to his desk and left you alone for the rest of the day.

You were fixing your makeup before the lunch break arrived, your geography teacher let you off early today, as you stared into your small pocket mirror. You pulled your hair behind your ear as you took out the little cushion and started tapping it lightly against your cheekbone, not much of the foundation had come off, but you wanted to be sure. Especially since you were having lunch with Yoona. As you stared at yourself, your eyes looking lifeless, your ears picked up a loud voice greeting someone from your classroom. You looked up, curious, and your eyes fell on Vernon’s table. A darker blonde-haired boy, quite scrawny looking with dirty clothes, was leaning against Vernon’s desk. He looked younger than the two of you, maybe he was your age, but his complex gave him a boyish look. Vernon looked panicked as he stared at the boy, pinching his ear and making the boy cry out. A few of your classmates glanced at them, but no one seemed as invested and curious as you were. Vernon looked like he got caught doing something illegal, it definitely picked your interest. In your mind, Vernon was this perfect boy, perfect student, whom never did anything bad. Seeing that look on his face, you placed your mirror down on your desk and sneakily continued to watch them.

“Hyung, I’m just here to tell you something important!” The young boy exclaimed annoyed, earning a few more confused looks as he wasn’t wearing your high school’s uniform…or any for that matter. Is he not in school? He seems very young however…maybe he just skipped classes today? Vernon’s eyes widened and accidentally connected with yours and you quickly looked down, absentmindedly flipping through your long-forgotten fashion magazine. You felt his gaze remain on you for a few more seconds before it was gone; you peaked up at them to see the younger boy hunched over Vernon’s desk as he was articulately whispering something. Now, that made you even more curious about what they were speaking, and you looked back down at your magazine. A model you didn’t like had their picture on the page, so, you gripped it and tore the page out, crumbling the paper up. There, this should do for a good excuse to pass by them. You cleared your throat, feeling like you were about to commit a felony, and checked if anyone was watching you, but no one was. You hummed to yourself and looked around, trying to look innocent as you started slowly walking towards Vernon’s desk. Your heart started beating faster as your grip tightened on the paper and you slowed down even more once you could hear the boy’s high-pitched voice.

“Hyung, I’m not kidding! They said they’ll pay really well!” Pay well for what? Your eyebrows furrowed as you became intrigued, eager to find out more.

“I’m not racing against Jun anymore, why can’t you understand that?!” Vernon snapped quietly; his eyebrows were furrowed as he was glaring at his desk. The young boy sighed loudly and you actually stopped walking, standing just two feet away from them. Jun? Vernon is racing? Is this what I think it is?

“Come on, hyung!” The young boy whined and you jumped when something crashed in the back, the paper falling from your grip, “It’s tomorrow night, on a Friday, your mom won’t be pissed if we go racing—”

“Shut up!” Vernon’s voice was hard as you made eye contact. Your face must have said it all because Vernon didn’t look pleased, you heard something you weren’t supposed to. You cleared your throat and walked to the trash bin, feeling the little smirk creep onto your lips. Vernon races? How come I’ve never seen him before? Your thoughts became a whirlwind as you turned to walk back to your desk, eyes falling onto Vernon. He was glaring at you and suddenly you felt powerful, like you were in control of this situation. Vernon was racing Jun? Last month I beat Jun…that means…I can finally beat Vernon at something. You were suddenly pleased and even your mood got better, something you weren’t expecting to happen anytime soon. You didn’t have to think twice as the bell rang signaling it was time for lunch break. The young boy hadn’t left yet and it looked like Vernon was scolding him as you reached inside your backpack and felt around it. You gripped your sandwich first and then the cold rolled up material. You took both items out and your lips widened into a big smirk as your eyes fell on Vernon, who was busy talking to the boy. This is it. I can finally show him he isn’t better at everything. He’s not rich, I have a Veyron, it doesn’t matter what car he has, I will beat him without a doubt. You took off, gripping your things tightly as you were headed straight towards Vernon’s table. Him and the boy stopped whispering when they felt your presence behind them and they turned both to look at you. You slammed the big roll of cash on Vernon’s table, making their jaws drop as the young boy looked back at you as if you grew two heads out. You felt powerful and proud, so, with a wink directed at the young boy you brushed past him to find Yoona and enjoy your lunch with her. You knew Vernon understood your message.

           Classes passed by quickly and you were buzzing to get out of school, for once not even having thought of your parents since the incident with Vernon. You wanted to talk to him, but not at school, you didn’t want your classmates to start more unwanted rumors about you or Vernon. You might dislike him, but you didn’t want to drag him into unnecessary drama. So, you told Yoona that tomorrow you were going to the races and she was excited, telling you she’d be there too with Johnny and his crew, and that she’d cheer for you. She was proud of you and amused at the same time, she knew you disliked Vernon, so she understood how much this meant to you. It was childish, but Yoona didn’t judge you for it, even cheered you on, she could see something was wrong today. So, when you left the school gates, you walked down the street after you promised Yoona that she could drive you home tomorrow, and you turned the corner. You knew Vernon walked this way to get home, so you leaned against the stone wall of the school fence and took a deep breath in, suddenly confused why your heart was beating so fast. Am I nervous because I’m about to see Vernon? No, that’s stupid, I don’t have a reason to feel this way around him. You stood up straight when Vernon rounded the corner and his eyes fell on you, narrowing dangerously as he approached you. When he stopped in front of you, he remained silent and you rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to speak.

“I’m sure you know what I meant by that…” You trailed off and Vernon nodded wordlessly, “I’m challenging you to race.”

“I know.” Vernon nodded again, his voice seemed to be a lot deeper right now, and you didn’t even realize it when you blushed.

“I heard some rumors…” You started, trying to remain confident under his sudden intimidating gaze, “About a guy called Vernon who drifts better than Lee Seungkwan, is that you?”

A smirk appeared on Vernon’s lips and your eyebrows furrowed when your heartbeat picked up again, suddenly you felt hot standing under the sun, “It is me.”

You didn’t like the look on Vernon’s face, you felt like he knew he was making you flustered, so you took a step to be closer, “Well then, here’s my proposal…I win, you teach me how to drift. You win, I’ll go on a date with you.”

I can’t believe this is the proposal I’m making, I sound stupid. How do I know he wants to go on a date with me? Now I’m just blindly assuming and insinuating that he might like me, oh no…Your cheeks warmed up again and you hated the way Vernon started laughing, his mouth opening and showing his teeth.

“How do you know if I want to go on a date with you?” Vernon raised one eyebrow and you rolled your eyes, trying to mask your initial panic.

“Call it a hunch,” You answered back with a smirk, trying to fake your confidence that suddenly decided to disappear, “are you in or not?”

Vernon remained silent for a few seconds as his eyes ran over your face, his features softening. You bit your lower lip, feeling nervous all of a sudden as no boy looked at you like that before.

“I’m in.” He extended his hand for you to shake and you looked down at it, hesitantly shaking his hand. His grip was strong and warm, his palm surprisingly soft as it caressed yours, it was so much bigger. Your cheeks burned again and your eyebrows furrowed as you became angry at yourself and pulled your hand away, throwing Vernon a small glare. He seemed amused as you turned and stormed off, completely missing the smitten look Vernon was giving you.

           You woke up feeling excited, which was a foreign feeling, as you usually dreaded having breakfast with your parents. Last night you tried to nurse the bruise on your cheek with ice and ointment, but the colors were still there and you had to cover it with foundation once again. You let your hair hang freely once again and once you were dressed; you went out to have breakfast. Your parents weren’t in the dining room, so you headed to the kitchen, surprising the maids, and asked them to let you have breakfast there. They were hesitant but didn’t try to argue with you when they saw the genuine smile on your face; they could see how your mood was strangely good today and decided not to ruin it. After that, you skillfully creeped around the apartment, making sure to avoid your parents as you headed for school, your long strides taking you to school quickly. Yoona and you got there at the same time so you asked her to take you to Jihoon’s car-service after school, she said she’d drive you home today after all, as your Veyron was ready to be picked up for tonight’s race. Vernon seemed to be smug as he offered you a few smirks here and there throughout the day, and when you returned from the restroom, you found a protein bar on your desk. Confused, you looked around and watched your classmates, who weren’t paying much attention to you. Vernon wasn’t in the classroom and you sighed, about to sit, when Hanna waved her hand at you. You raised your eyebrows at her in question and she just pointed at Vernon’s table before at the protein bar. You understood what she tried saying and with red cheeks you slumped into your chair, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Your gaze fell on the protein bar and just as you poked it annoyed, Vernon walked in with two of his friends and his eyes fell on you. You threw him a glare and hid behind your long hair, refusing to let him see the blush on your cheeks, I blushed enough yesterday. His ego didn’t need to be further fed. You found it amusing how sure he looked of himself, you knew he was convinced that he’d win tonight, but you also knew he’d be a sore loser. You haven’t seen many people with expensive cars at the races, even if the engine is the one that counts, your Veyron just naturally was faster and better than most cars they owned. It was why you were able to win so many races until now and why Jihoon approached you in the first place. He was excited to see the new engine he installed in action tonight, he would sell it for big money if you win.

           Your parents were still out on their date when you left the apartment, you didn’t have to worry about them seeing you dressed ‘like a hooker’, as they called this style. It wasn’t even anything bad, just leather pants and a strapless crop top and your leather jacket. You wore your thick, plain, platformed boots so that you’ll seem taller but be able to drive at the same time. Once you got to the garage you smiled pridefully at your car as you unlocked it. You really loved the car; it was your most prized possession as it brought you many victories so far. Once you turned the car on, goosebumps appeared on your arms at the roar of the engine. It was humming loudly and it shook your car in the best way possible as you carefully drove out of the garage. You turned on the radio and chuckled when Yoona’s favorite song came on, rolling down the windows to let the chilly air of the night fill your car. You pulled your hair in a low ponytail so that it wouldn’t accidentally get in your face and disturb you, you were aware of what you did was dangerous. You were careful as you drove down the illuminated streets of Seoul, making sure you wouldn’t exceed the speed limit. Wouldn’t want to make your father hate you more and take your car away. You’d get there at least fifteen minutes earlier, and you’d lie if you said your stomach wasn’t whirling around due to nervousness. You gripped the wheel tightly as you shook your head, passing by a green light, trying to clear your mind. This really isn’t the time to be nervous about something that I will most definitely win. The engine change wasn’t very obvious, your car was actually a bit slower, but it still flew down the streets if you pressed the gas pedal. Jihoon assured you you’d definitely win, even with the slight change, and you promised to give half of the profit to him. Tonight, he was making good money, people would flock to him to buy this new engine which to them seemed like it was as fast as an original Veyron engine, people were easy to fool. You drove through downtown and past some warehouses, music getting carried to where you were currently, even though the meeting point was one block away. You slowed as you turned the next corner and shut the lights of the car off as the street was illuminated well enough by the lampposts but the reflectors brought by the people here too. The street you were on was a very long streets, on both sides were abandoned buildings, and cars were parked close to those building to leave space for the circulating cars, and people, to pass by. You honked softly and the mass of people in front of you started fleeing out of your way, creating a straight path for you to the start line. You slowly rolled by them, the loud music coming from different car speakers could be felt even in your car, you picked up on the slight vibrations. People who knew you greeted you with grins and tapped your turquoise car, becoming excited when they saw you weren’t about to park anywhere. They knew you were racing tonight and as you arrived to the start line, people started cheering your name. You started laughing as you turned the engine off and got out of your car, grinning at the people surrounding you.

“There you are!” Yoona exclaimed as she leaned against the front of your car, arms crossed in front of her. You chuckled and approached her, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Did you think I’d miss tonight?”

“Nothing’s ever sure with you…” She was right and you rolled your eyes, having missed races not once because of your parents being home. They didn’t know what you did in your free time, but sometimes they’d forbid you from spending your Fridays out, even though you always said you were sleeping over at Yoona’s.

“Did you see Vernon?” You asked as you looked around, unable to see anyone familiar in the huge crowd around you. Butterflies in your stomach made you rub your tummy as you pouted and Yoona started laughing loudly.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous?” Her eyebrows raised and you decided not to look at her, “And no, I don’t even know if he’s here. Maybe he chickened out—”

A loud roar of an engine made Yoona’s words unable to be heard and you whipped your head around, eyes falling on a red Honda Civic Type R. The windows were tinted and you couldn’t see inside, but you knew it was Vernon, no one else was racing beside the two of you for the next twenty minutes. Yoona’s eyes widened just a bit as you both watched Vernon get out of the car and you were confused when two blondes ran up to him squealing.

“Oppa!” They chorused and your face distorted into disgust as Yoona burst out laughing, leaning back as her head was thrown back. You looked at her, expression still the same, and it made her laugh louder and harder. Your eyes fell on Johnny, who was smirking, as he started approaching you, his eyes falling on Vernon.

“Brought along your Barbie dolls, eh?” He tapped Yoona’s thigh as he walked past, headed for Vernon. The two blondes clung onto Vernon’s arms and you finally looked at him, taking in his attire. He wore ripped jeans and a form fitting navy green blouse, a leather jacket keeping him warm from the chilly air. A few chains hung around his neck and his dark hair was pushed back. You were surprised to see Vernon dressed like this; you didn’t think his style would be like that. You’ve only ever seen him in his uniform and some loose gym clothes. You gulped and Yoona nudged you, eyes squinted.

“Stop staring at him, you’re making it very obvious.” She muttered as she leaned down as if she was about to whisper something to you.

“What?” You asked confused as you turned your head, Vernon just shook hands with Johnny, and you then looked back at Yoona.

“That you like him.” Yoona’s words hit you like a truck and you couldn’t help the very loud scoff that left your lips. Is she crazy? I like Vernon? Where did she get that from?!

“Did you take something before you—”

Yoona threw you a warning glare and you didn’t finish your sentence as you knew better, but your attention was back on Johnny and Vernon, it looked like they’ve known each other for quite a while as they talked casually.

“Taking her out for a tour?” Johnny asked with a grin as he placed his hand on Vernon’s Honda. Vernon nodded and untangled himself from the two blondes, a smirk appearing on his lips. Your stomach did a somersault and you gasped quietly, confused as to what that feeling meant and why you only ever felt so flustered around Vernon. Yoona can’t be right…

“Nah, I’m here to claim my prize.” Vernon’s eyes fell on you and your back straightened as you quickly smoothed your expression into a neutral one. You knew your cheeks were still burning, but it was so chilly outside, one could blame it on that. You chuckled as Johnny looked at you too, seemingly having realized Vernon was racing you tonight.

“I don’t know man,” He said with an amused smirk, patting Vernon’s back forcefully, “I’ve never seen Y/N lose before in that car.”

You couldn’t help but notice the slight envy that slipped into Johnny’s tone and it made you smirk; you always knew he wanted your car. He was pretty pissed when you refused to let him drive it, you weren’t about to let a lunatic wreck your precious car. If something happened to it and you’d had to tell your parents it was Johnny’s fault, you were sure you’d never get to see the daylight ever again.

“You’re still in, right, Chwe?” You raised your eyebrows mockingly and Vernon scoffed, opening his door.

“Why don’t you sit inside your car so that we get over with this?” You chuckled and pushed off your car, Yoona following suit as Johnny walked up to the two of you, grabbing Yoona’s nape. You watched as he stared her in the eyes, eyes narrowing the slightest at her, and Yoona’s jaw clenched as she waited patiently for Johnny to stop. You hated when he did that, tried dominating Yoona or got possessive to the point of hurting her, so you ripped your car door open and pressed down on the honk harshly. Both of them jumped and Johnny looked at you with a glare.

“Move along, dickhead, I haven’t got all night.” You snapped at him and he chuckled, releasing Yoona, who looked thankful as she pushed Johnny slightly back and walked away while shooting you a finger heart.

“Don’t crash.” You rolled your eyes at Johnny’s words and got in as he walked to the side where Yoona stood, circling his arms around your best friend’s waist. Out of nowhere, Jun showed up, holding a checkered flag. You closed your door shut and put on your seatbelt, melting into your seat. Vernon’s engine roared to life and you were quick to do the same, Jun having come to a stop between the two cars.

“You know the drill,” Jun shouted over everyone’s voice, “You’ve got 400 meters, whichever finishes first wins and gets the money.”

Vernon reeled his engine and you just smirked; eyes fixed on the checkered flag as Jun raised it. You always concentrated, how you start, is the most important thing. You can’t lose seconds and you have to be faster than the other one, it gives you already a very small but significant advantage. You gripped the gearstick and the wheel with your other hand, ready to shift it into drive. You hated how your eyes had to take a glance at Vernon and it annoyed you even more when you realized his eyes were on you. What if Yoona is right and I do like him? I do feel flustered around him. Isn’t it just because he makes me angry? A few days ago, I was convinced I hated him with all my heart. What is it that I truly feel for him then? Jun’s hand with the flag dropped and you shifted the gearstick just in a second, your foot pressing down the gas pedal. You didn’t look anywhere else as your car came to an abrupt start, the safety belt cutting into the exposed skin of your collarbones and your eyebrows furrowed as your car picked up speed in just seconds. Everything became a blur around you, all you saw was the finish line that was still far away, but you were getting closer and closer. You didn’t know where Vernon was, but having not seen him pass you, you believed he was still behind somewhere. Your stiff body almost felt relaxed, despite the contraction of your muscles to keep the car going in a straight line at such high speed, and your mind was silent. You didn’t hear anything, the radio was always off when you raced because you wanted to hear the engine, and your labored breathing felt almost relaxing. You felt in control and free, a small smile slipped onto your lips when you noticed Seungkwan standing on the side with a big checkered flag, flapping it around above him. You were close, just a few more meters. Your engine cried loudly as you pushed the gas pedal for another boost of energy, your car crossing the finish line before Vernon’s could. You let go of the gas pedal and hit the brakes, your car coming to a stop slowly but surely. People flooded around your car and your head rested on the head rest as you closed your eyes, surprised by how fast your heart was beating. Adrenaline always flooded your veins, but never this much. You opened one eye and glanced to your left, but Vernon’s car was nowhere. It confused you as you turned the engine off, undoing your seatbelt. People were cheering for you, your name leaving their lips as they tapped your car in congratulations, and you gripped the door handle to open it. Just as you pushed it open, it was pushed back closed and your eyebrows furrowed, until Vernon’s face popped up. He motioned with his finger to roll down your window and you did, still looking at him confused.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice loud, as Vernon threw the cash back at you, making it land in your lap.

“I lost,” His tone was hard and he looked displeased, “but you knew I would, so take your money back.”

You rolled your eyes and gripped the cash, raising it up between your faces, “I gave it to you regardless of the outcome, our deal was about something else—”

“I’m not your charity case!” Vernon’s voice turned harsh and you raised your eyebrows at him, finding it weird how pissed he suddenly was, “I’ll meet you tomorrow at noon at the abandoned sandy tracks half an hour from here. Don’t come with the Veyron, it’s not a car for beginners.”

You opened your mouth to snap at him that you weren’t a beginner, but Vernon turned around and stormed away, pushing people out of his way. You turned your head to see where he was headed, and you found his car just a few meters away from the finish line, 100 meter between yours and his car. What a dick.

           The revving of the engine was a sign that you were doing something wrong and out of anger, you hit the brakes harshly, sending yourself and the person sitting in the passenger seat forward. Your heart was beating fast as you gripped the steering wheel with both hands, your skin melting into the material of the wheel. The seatbelt was cutting into your skin too and your jaw clenched when a chuckle came from your right. You knew Vernon was smirking in amusement, very pleased to see you fail once again. You thought you’d learn how to drift quickly and easily, but here you were, almost two hours later, barely being able to make one right turn. You didn’t know what it was that made it so hard, it couldn’t have been Vernon’s Honda, you’ve driven cars like his before thanks to Jihoon; you really didn’t understand what was the matter. I can’t believe I’ve been embarrassing myself for the past two hours. A sigh left your mouth and you glanced at Vernon, who’s right arm was perched on the windowsill and he had his smirk still on.

“You suck at teaching,” You had to say something to save yourself from further embarrassment, “That’s why I still can’t do it.”

It was so amusing to Vernon that he started laughing, his mouth widening and his teeth showed. Your heart only seemed to pick up its rhythm and your eyebrows furrowed as you harshly shifted the gear to start doing another round.

“Hey, hey—” Vernon was quick to notice your change of demeanor and your fingers tightened around the shift stick when he gripped your hand, “I think we had enough for today, Y/N…especially my car. I can’t have you burning down my brakes, sorry.”

“If you’d let me come with my Veyron you wouldn’t be here complaining—”

“And risk wrecking that car?” Vernon’s eyebrows shoot up and you looked at him, his hand was still on top of yours as if he forgot it there, “Hell, I bet your parents don’t even know you race…I for sure would bite my kid’s head off if I found out they raced with a car like yours—”

“Yeah,” You snapped, eyes blazing as you glared at Vernon, what does he know about me, “That’s why they don’t know. Let go of my hand now and tell me where to drive.”

Vernon gulped and if you weren’t so angry, you probably would have blushed at his reaction. He looked down at your hands as if he realized due to your words it was still on top of yours and he quickly placed it in his lap, clearing his throat as you looked away, “I’m quite hungry, let’s have lunch.”

“Just tell me where you live and I’ll call John to pick me up—”

“No!” Vernon’s voice rose a bit and you looked at him surprised as you were driving away from the abandoned race tracks, “I mean…come have lunch with us. My mom knows where we are and she’d be really pissed if I didn’t invite you for lunch…”

Your heart started beating fast again and you bit your lower lip, trying to ignore his words and the temptation to say yes, “I can’t stay.”

“Please—”

“No.” Vernon knew it was final and that he couldn’t try convincing you anymore, but he really wanted you to stay. He was amazed by you, truth be told. He didn’t know what was so attractive about you, because you might have been beautiful, but he never really cared much about looks. Something about the way you would always look at him, he felt some hidden feelings that you desperately tried to hide from him and yourself as well. He knew you had something with him personally, he didn’t understand why, but he hoped one day you’d have enough courage to tell him. It was the only reason why he never tried getting close to you, he was afraid honestly, that you’d reject him in a very unpleasant way and he wanted to save himself from the heartbreak. He didn’t even know you raced, he never heard of your name being gossiped at the races, however, he did hear something from Chan, who worked for Lee Jihoon. But you weren’t the only girl who’s name was Y/N, he couldn’t just assume so boldly. As you focused on the road, on driving back towards the main roads, you failed to notice Vernon’s intense gaze analyzing your every movement, expression. Your bruise had faded nicely, after icing it non-stop when you were home, but you could still faintly see it. So faintly, that one would have to be really close next to you to see it, or so you thought. Vernon clearly saw it and just as he opened his mouth to question what it was, you sighed.

“Yesterday…” You started quietly, your muscles having eased now that you were just driving around casually and Vernon wasn’t touching you, “I feel like I insulted you…”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched you, pointing towards a street, to which you turned, “Insulted me?”

“With the money…I didn’t want to make it seem like I was—”

But Vernon didn’t want to hear it, because quite frankly, he wasn’t insulted at all last night. He was pissed, because you won. And that was only because he really wanted to go on that date with you. However, now that you’ve been alone in his car for almost two hours, he didn’t seem to mind it that much, “I wasn’t insulted, Y/N. I know you are rich and that I have less than you, but it didn’t mean anything to me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and once again followed Vernon’s instructions, which lead to a quiet side of the city, “Why were you so angry then?”

“I was frustrated, not necessarily angry.” Your lips pulled up into a smile and you glanced at Vernon.

“I probably should have warned you I drive a Veyron—”

“I heard Jihoon sold your engine.”

“It wasn’t mine. He bought it and wanted me to show it off so that he could sell it for more.”

“Smart.”

“I know.” You found yourself glancing at Vernon with a smile, which he returned, as he pointed towards a house at the end of the street. It was a dead end, and theirs was the last house. It looked normal size, white, and had a nice front lawn. You didn’t think Vernon was poor, but the quality of the house surprised you. It had a refreshing look and definitely looked cozy just from the outside. You parked the car in the driveway, like Vernon instructed, and turned the engine off. You both undid your seatbelts and got out of the car; your eyes glanced towards the house. The window on the second floor was opened and loud music was blasting through it. A smile had pulled onto your lips without realizing and Vernon cleared his throat to get your attention.

“That’s my sister…she’s a bit loud sometimes.” You nodded as your eyes fell on Vernon, who’s hands were in the pockets of his baggy jeans, it weirdly looked good on him. Vernon’s style surprised you. It looked really cool and was actually very fitting for him, now you realized. It would be weird seeing him now in his uniform, knowing his preference in clothes.

“I’ll call John—" But just as you grabbed your phone from your jacket, the front door opened and a middle-aged lady walked out, hands on her waist.

“Look at you two!” She exclaimed in English and your lips instantly pulled into a smile, her accent sounding an awful lot like Vernon’s, “I thought you’d never come home. Come on!”

Vernon grinned at his mother and took off, but you remained put, “Uh, ma’am I’ll be calling my father’s driver to pick me up.”

“Non-sense!” Vernon’s mother’s eyebrows furrowed as she stepped down a few steps, “Hurry up inside, I just finished the soup.”

“Ma’am, I really can’t stay for lunch—”

“Vernon, go get her!” And before you could disagree more, his mother walked inside, leaving the door open for you. Your eyes fell on Vernon and you shook your head, about to dial John’s number. I really don’t want to be here right now. My father is already pissed enough at me, I shouldn’t miss lunch today…especially since we are meeting with his business partners.

“If you don’t have lunch with us, mom won’t let me help you tomorrow or next week.” Your eyebrows furrowed at Vernon’s words and you looked down at your cellphone, hesitant to put it away. Would it really be so bad if I stayed? It’s just one lunch. Besides, I most definitely don’t want to meet Mr. Kim’s son, he’s too rude for my liking. You rolled your eyes and put your phone on ‘do not disturb’, putting it back inside your jacket’s pocket as you followed Vernon inside the house.

The house on the inside was exactly how you imagined it to be. Walls white with big windows to let the natural light inside and everywhere you looked, you saw family pictures. It seemed like Vernon’s mother really liked flowers too as you could find them in every corner of the house. There was a scent of homecooked meal and it smelled so much better than the one coming from your maids at home. It was a lot warmer inside than outside, so you decided to get rid of your jacket too after you left your shoes in the doorway. You’d usually wear flip flops at home, but when Vernon gave you none and instructed to just go straight ahead while he went upstairs, you didn’t say anything about it. You watched Vernon hurry up the stairs as you walked down the hallway, humming coming from where Vernon instructed you to head towards.

“Oh, good!” It was his mom, once you stepped inside the kitchen, the scent of homecooked food was stronger. The kitchen wasn’t very big, just enough for a few people to be inside, but when you looked to your left you noticed there was a dining room, the young boy from school was there actually. He was sitting on a chair, one foot up on the chair next to him as he watched something on his phone, picking his nose in the process. It was a sight you weren’t expecting, such a normal sight you never got to see at home, that it made you laugh. You actually started laughing so hard it alerted the young boy, who’s cheeks became pink and he shoot you a glare.

“Chan,” Vernon’s mom sighed as she glanced back to see what was so funny, “He was picking his nose again, wasn’t he?”

You only nodded as you tried to stop laughing, the boy actually got up and walked towards you with a small glare. You weren’t aware that Vernon had a brother, besides, this Chan boy looked nothing like Vernon or his mother.

“I’m Y/L/N Y/N by the way,” You spoke up as Chan stopped beside you, squaring you up with his eyes, as you watched Vernon’s mother.

“Yes, Vernon told me who he was going with. Wasn’t expecting a girl to want to learn how to drift.” Chan scoffed next to you as he offered you his hand once he was done taking your form in.

“Lee Chan.” You shook his hand and narrowed your eyes at him, “And Mrs. Chwe, I told you women like to race. Sometimes there’s more of them at the race tracks than men.”

“He’s not wrong.” You approved of his words, looking back at him, “You’re not related to the Lee family, right?”

“Do I look like I am?” Chan had a sharp tongue and you scoffed, watching him brush past you, “Let me put the plates, Mrs. Chwe.”

“You should be studying, Chan, dear.” Chan just rolled his eyes as he opened a drawer and pointed at the cutlery and motioned for you to take them. You grimaced at him but proceeded to help him out, it was better than standing awkwardly in the kitchen and doing nothing.

“Studying is a luxury that I can’t benefit of.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you walked alongside Chan to the dining room, setting the plates and cutlery on the long table.

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, noticing one plate missing.

“I don’t have enough money to go to school, Y/N.” Chan answered with an impassive voice, but you couldn’t help and notice the yearning behind his words.

“How old are you?” You found yourself asking again, something tugging at your heartstrings. Am I feeling bad for him? He deserves to have part of education like everyone else. He seems like a quick-witted boy.

“Sixteen.” Chan muttered and brushed past you as he headed for the door of the kitchen. You looked at Mrs. Chwe as she brought the pot of soup to the table, still steaming as it had been recently finished. She had a sad expression as she heard your little exchange with Chan and it suddenly all made sense. He’s here because they are taking care of him. I don’t know his home situation, but if Mrs. Chwe took him in, it must mean that he wasn’t living well before at all.

“Vernon! Sofia!” You jumped at Chan’s shrill voice and Mrs. Chwe chuckled, taking a seat at the head of the table.

“Sit wherever you want,” She offered you a smile and you chose to sit on her left, the cushion was soft underneath your bum, “Can’t believe my son just left you to yourself, where are his manners.”

“It’s alright, Mrs. Chwe.” You reassured her, sitting patiently as Chan chose to sit across from you. You internally cursed and hoped that Sofia would take the seat next to you, but you didn’t have that much luck. As the girl came into view, she raced Vernon and jumped into the seat next to Chan, leaving Vernon with a glare directed at her. You looked at Vernon and tried to keep a neutral expression, knowing all eyes were basically on the two of you. His black hair was dripping still and he had changed from the clothes he was wearing earlier today. He wore black sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt, which made your heart beat faster. You never noticed that Vernon had muscles before and you were praying to all Gods that you wouldn’t blush upon seeing the way his t-shirt sat tightly against his chest.

“Finally,” His mother said with a sour expression and Vernon chuckled awkwardly, taking his seat next to you. You tensed up when Vernon’s knee knocked into yours underneath the table and Chan just randomly chuckled, making everyone look at him.

“Nothing, sorry!” He quickly dismissed it and greedily grabbed for the ladle to pour soup into his bowl. Vernon kept his eyes on Chan and the younger boy tried to mask his chuckle with a scoff. It was weird but you said nothing as this seemed to be normal for the other people sitting at the table.

“I’m Sofia!” Your eyes fell on the girl sitting next to Chan and you offered her a genuine smile.

“I’m Y/N.” She grinned back at you and stole the ladle from Chan, elbowing him when he filled his bowl to the brim.

“I love this soup, stop it!” He exclaimed loudly and scooted his chair away from the girl, throwing daggers at her.

“You won’t leave anything for us!” Sofia fired back and you sat quietly, your body once again relaxed. Vernon’s hands on the table kept clenching and unclenching and you stole a glance at him, he was watching his sister and friend’s banter with a glare.

“Stop it, kids,” Mrs. Chwe intervened and took the ladle from Sofia once she was done, “You always serve the guest first.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry!” You quickly dismissed her words, offering her your bowl when she raised her hand, “You don’t have to change your habits just because I’m here.”

Vernon’s mother smiled as she handed you back the bowl, “You seem to be the most well behaved here, my dear.”

Your cheeks became hot and before you could dismiss her words, Chan erupted into giggles, “Of course, Mrs. Chwe! Can’t you smell the richness? I could, even from miles away—” Before Chan could finish his sentence, he cried out and jumped a bit, glaring at Vernon, who was glaring at him back. You looked at Vernon and saw how his jaw was clenched and his mother sighed, taking her son’s bowl to pour some soup for him too.

“Rich or poor, Chan, in this house it doesn’t matter, yes?” Her voice was scolding and Chan grew smaller in his seat, as if he realized he wasn’t at his real home here and apologized quietly. Once you started eating your soup, you remained quiet and listened to the casual conversations from around. It wasn’t because you had nothing to say, it’s just that habits are hard to change, and at your house no one spoke while you ate…well, sometimes your mother would, until your father would reprimand her for it. You smiled softly when Sofia talked about her recent trip with her friends to a resort not far from the city and felt a bit bad when Chan confessed that he wouldn’t be going home this month either. You didn’t know his story, but it was obvious how much it bothered him that he couldn’t be there. Vernon answered his mom when he was asked something, but otherwise remained silent like you, stealing glances that you obviously noticed but ignored in order to stop yourself from blushing.

“Did Vernon manage to teach you something today, Y/N?” Mrs. Chwe asked you just as you finished eating and your eyebrows furrowed.

“He tried to…” You muttered and subconsciously threw a glare at Vernon, “But I didn’t do much.”

“You aren’t bad though.” You scoffed and whipped your head towards Vernon, for a second forgetting that it wasn’t just the two of you there.

“Saying that now to seem nice, huh? Who are you trying to impress?” Everyone remained silent at your snappy tone and you grew embarrassed, realizing you were acting out again. It was just getting to you. The atmosphere at the table, how nice everyone was to everyone, how Mrs. Chwe seemed to know her kids and didn’t even have to ask them because she already knew what bothered them. Even Chan was treated well and Mrs. Chwe was babying him, offering him more soup once he was done even though he probably couldn’t eat more. It was obvious that everyone was cared of and loved. Hearing Mrs. Chwe calling you ‘my dear’ wasn’t helping with the void you felt in your chest. It was making your stomach ache when you thought of going home after this, after the picture of a loving family was now forever imprinted into your mind. How were you not supposed to hate Vernon now? He isn’t just perfect at school; his whole life seems to be perfect. Everyone loves him and Chan even looks up at him, Sofia seems to love to tease him and no one seems to be always pressuring him. How am I supposed to look at him without envy?

“I’m sorry, that was rude.” You apologized quickly, realizing you’ve stayed quiet for too long.

“Don’t worry, my son isn’t perfect.” Mrs. Chwe’s words were so contradicting towards your thoughts about him, “Whatever misunderstanding you have going on, I understand. Just solve it quickly so that you don’t stay with a grudge.”

“A misunderstanding even I don’t understand.” Vernon mumbled underneath his breath and you looked at him, eyes widening just a little bit. Now you felt worse and you sighed, pushing your hair behind your back.

“Oh, dear!” Everyone looked at Mrs. Chwe surprised, she was looking at you with her eyebrows furrowed, “What happened to your face?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you touched your face with both hands, looking at Vernon out of reflex since you knew him best from the table, to see if he could see something wrong. His eyes looked into yours for a second before they fell on your cheek. Your heart seemed to come to a stop before it sped up dangerously and you just cleared your throat.

“I’m clumsy sometimes,” It was a script you memorized a long time ago, “I have a cabinet in my bathroom that’s around my height and sometimes when I wake up, I’m dizzy and happen to run into it. That’s what happened.”

Everyone but Vernon seemed to buy it, Sofia even laughed, “You should be more carefully, why did you even put the cabinet there?”

“I wasn’t the designer of the apartment.” You joked with her, throwing Vernon a confused glance as his right leg was moving up and down fast, like when you were anxious. Chan and Sofia giggled as Mrs. Chwe stood to gather the bowls.

“Put some ice on it, it’ll go away.” Her voice was soothing and you felt like her, too, knew your story was a lie; but you decided to ignore it and thank her for lunch once again.

“When is Mr. Chwe coming home?” Chan asked as he stood to help Mrs. Chwe take the bowls to the sink. He saved your curiosity and you were happy that he asked before you could.

“I don’t know,” Vernon answered with a shrug, leaning back in his chair, “He took some extra shifts.”

“Yes, because you just had to buy that expensive car to race with.” Mrs. Chwe snapped from the kitchen and you looked at Vernon.

“I’ve been earning more money ever since, mom. You can’t say I’m not trying to help you.” Vernon got defensive, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Your eyes fell on the contracting muscles and you gulped, reaching for your glass to drink some water. Sofia smirked but looked at her phone when she saw you throwing her a questioning glance.

“As if we weren’t in debt before.” The woman sighed to herself, but everyone heard it, and the cash that Vernon threw back at you yesterday felt heavy in your back-pocket. He wasn’t a charity case, he said it himself, but why not give it to him when you seriously didn’t need it? You looked at Vernon and his eyebrows were furrowed as he sighed quietly.

“Thank you for having me for lunch, but I really have to go home now.” You spoke up and stood up, Vernon following your actions. Sofia shot you a pout but she waved as you walked to the kitchen, Vernon behind you.

“You should come more often.” Mrs. Chwe gave you a pat on the head and you bowed your head, waving at Chan, but as you went to step outside of the kitchen, you stopped. Vernon walked into you and your skin tingled as he grabbed onto your arms, steadying himself. You wanted to curse but focused on what you were about to say as you glanced back, having to look over Vernon’s shoulder. He was taller than you.

“Chan, ask Vernon to give you my phone number and whenever you have free time, call me if you feel like studying a little.” Chan’s mouth fell open and you winked at him, taking off again.

“For free?” Chan shouted after you and you chuckled, weirdly not bothered that Vernon was still holding onto you.

“For free!” You called back and Chan started loudly cheering, making Vernon sigh, “You should do the same, Vernon, the poor kid makes it obvious that he’d like to study.”

“You think I didn’t try doing that?” Vernon scoffed and finally released you as you went to pull on your shoes, “He’s stubborn and refuses to listen to me.”

“I guess my beauty is enough to give him motivation then.” You said cutely and Vernon could have sworn his heart stopped beating. You didn’t notice his sudden freeze up as you grabbed your jacket and phone from your pocket.

“Your beauty…” He muttered to himself as you sent a message to John to pick you up, his answer was immediate.

“So…” You looked back at Vernon, sneakily taking the roll of cash from your back-pocket, “We are meeting tomorrow too?”

“That’s the plan, right?” He asked, his voice sounding a bit chocked up and you ignored it as you nodded. Your eyes fell on the table behind him and your heart picked up when you realized what you’d have to do. You wouldn’t have done it, not in a million years, if it wasn’t your only chance to leave the money at him. Your heart started beating fast and Vernon frowned when he saw you closing the gap between you two. You grimaced to yourself as you let your left arm circle his torso, hugging him briefly. Your right arm extended and just as you managed to drop the cash onto the table, Vernon pulled you into himself. You gasped quietly and noticed how refreshing his scent was and the back of his t-shirt was still wet from his dripping hair that seemed only damp now. The hug didn’t last for long but when you pulled back, both of your cheeks were warm and you couldn’t look at Vernon.

“Uhm, see you tomorrow!” Not wanting to hear his voice and feel more flustered, you quickly opened the door and ran down his driveway, refusing to turn back around to watch him close the door. You could still feel his arms around you and how soft his clothes were despite his body being so firm. I think Yoona is right, I might like Vernon.

           You couldn’t help the satisfied cry that left your lips as you took your forth successful turn, drifting just like Vernon taught you. You still couldn’t do it each time you tried, but this was the best you’ve done since you’ve been here so far. Vernon was proud as he gripped onto the board of the car, lips in a wide grin. He wasn’t bothered by how sharp your turns were, throwing him around in his seat even though he was buckled up, he was happy that you were happy. He’s never seen you with such wide smile before, and he was mesmerized. He never thought you could become more beautiful than you already were. Your heart was beating fast again as you decided this was satisfying enough to take a break, Vernon’s been complaining for half an hour now. You slowed the car down and stopped the engine when it finally came to a stop. You let out a breath and relaxed in the driver’s seat, feeling accomplished. You could finally do it; you were sure you needed more practice but you actually did it this time.

“That was pretty cool, Y/N.” You forgot you were with Vernon in the car and you became embarrassed as you looked at him, “Am I still a bad teacher?”

“It took me five hours in total to catch the hang of it, I wouldn’t tell anyone you’re very bright at teaching.” It made Vernon chuckle and you realized what he acted like in school was his real personality, he wasn’t faking anything like some people were. It felt nice to be around someone authentic and you found yourself staring at him. His black hair seemed to have wax on as it was twirled in locks and paired with the red sunglasses he wore it made him look very attractive. He had on some black ripped jeans and underneath his neon green oversized jumper he wore a white t-shirt, you could see the collar of it. When Vernon locked eyes with you, you quickly looked away and picked at the ends of your turtleneck; your knee-length skirt had ridden up a bit and was around your thighs, you’d have to pull it lower soon.

“I gave Chan your phone number,” You looked back at Vernon surprised, you didn’t expect Chan to actually accept your offer, “He said he’ll give you a call next week.”

“That’s fine,” You hummed and brushed your long hair behind your back, “The less time I spend at home, the better.”

You wished you didn’t say that, because it seemed like Vernon just remembered something and his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes searched your face. You did not forget to put on foundation today, so he couldn’t see anything wrong with your skin, but suddenly the area felt on fire. You hoped Vernon wouldn’t bring it up now that he couldn’t see it, but you were wrong.

“Why hide the bruise if I have already seen it?”

“I thought it wasn’t visible anymore, good you told me.”

“Wouldn’t want more people getting suspicious?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Vernon rolled his eyes, looking a little irritated.

“What happened?” You shrugged and sighed, trying to remain neutral.

“I told you yesterday, Vernon—”

“But it’s not the truth.” You rolled your eyes but Vernon’s burning gaze made you want to tell him everything. You didn’t know anymore which feeling was stronger: hatred or liking. But you wanted to tell someone and Vernon was willing to listen, maybe you felt like this because you knew Vernon wouldn’t directly go to the police like Yoona would.

“Everyone at school is jealous of me for being rich, for having everything I want and need. But I don’t have everything, Vernon. My parents don’t love, at least my father doesn’t, my mother barely spends time with me nowadays and the bruise—" You hated thinking of how you got certain bruises, your chest ached. You blocked the memories away and you didn’t think it would be this hard to say it. You were scared of how Vernon would react and what he’d think, would he see you differently? Vernon grabbed your hand and you became stiff, wanting to pull your hand away but keep it there at the same time. It was oddly offering you comfort.

“The truth is that—my father—he—hits me.” You muttered quietly and looked down at your hands, unable to look at Vernon. You didn’t want him to see the tears in your eyes, you hated being vulnerable in front of others. And now you were confused about what you actually felt for Vernon, it wasn’t helping. Vernon’s silence was making you uncomfortable and you glanced up at him, his jaw was clenched. He seemed fine, but his jaw gave him away. You knew he was angry and you sighed, pulling your hand away from his.

“Go to the police, tell on him.”

“No, I can’t do that. He’s still my father.”

“Do you even hear yourself?!” Vernon’s sudden raise of voice made you jump as you looked back at him surprised, “This isn’t a little disciplinary spank a parent does from time to time, Y/N. He’s abusing you!”

You didn’t need someone to tell you, you were well aware of that. You threw Vernon a glare and crossed your arms in front of your chest, “Thanks for stating the obvious—”

“No, don’t do that!” He snapped, undoing his seatbelt in his anger, to be able to turn towards you better, “This isn’t something that can be treated lightly, Y/N! You need to tell someone; he has to stop. He has no rights laying his hands on you, do you understand me?”

“Do you understand that I know but I won’t do anything?” You raised your voice as well, your glare becoming harsh, “If I want my life to be ruined forever, sure, I’ll go tell the authorities.”

“He can’t ruin your life for something he did knowingly that it’s wrong—” His words became white noise as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself. Vernon was the last person you needed lecturing from, especially since you were getting this treatment because he was better than you at one fucking subject. Your anger went through the roof and you snaped, unable to take his words.

“Shut up, it’s all because of you!” Vernon’s eyes went wide and he looked so confused, you felt bad for telling him that, “You’re better at English than I am, my father can’t stand that. I have to be best at everything. It’s why I could never stand you, unknowingly you made me hurt. And it’s a shit reason, I know, but it’s true…”

Vernon looked speechless until he started looking regretful and he grabbed your hand again, despite your glare, “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” You scoffed, throwing him a look, “It’s not your fault. Don’t worry, I only have to put up with his shit for three more months. I’ll be moving out.”

“Does he know?” Vernon’s eyebrows rose and you scoffed again.

“Of course not. Why would I tell him? He keeps threatening me so I don’t see why I shouldn’t make his threats reality before he gets to proceed with them.” Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Come move in with us.” You weren’t expecting that at all and your eyes grew wide as you stared at Vernon. Move in with him and his family? That sounded weird, you could manage on your own too. It wasn’t that hard, right?

“I can’t, that house is already packed with you four and Chan spending his time there too.”

“Sofia would love to have another girl around the house, please?”

“Vernon, this isn’t something you get to decide. That house is your parents’ and I can’t show up unannounced, okay?” Your eyebrows rose at him and he sighed, knowing what you were saying was right.

“Fine, but think about it…” You nodded once and he took his hand off from yours, you uncrossed your arms, “Do you really hate me?”

You thought for a second as you watched him, not knowing how to answer him, because you didn’t know how you felt for him. You didn’t actually hate him, but you did envy him.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you…” You muttered and Vernon sighed, leaning back in the seat, “But I don’t think I hate you. I thought you sucked, but maybe you aren’t that bad.”

It made Vernon chuckle and when he looked over at you, your heart started beating quickly again and you blushed. If you constantly kept reacting like that it meant that you actually felt something more for him, right? Yoona must have been right, she never joked around with things like this one, and you bit your lower lip as the two of you watched each other quietly. You were always bold with others and merciless, not really caring if they got hurt by your words or not. You felt like you gave Vernon the wrong idea and now he might have been convinced that you hated him, which wasn’t true at all. You thought maybe you should be bold for once with your actions too and you cleared your throat, which made Vernon glance at you. He wasn’t making it easier but maybe if he saw you leaning in, he wouldn’t pull away in surprise. So, you leaned over the middle console and with your eyes on his lips, you tried closing the gap but Vernon was too far away. It would have been embarrassing if Vernon had not leaned in as well, pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t as bad as you thought your first kiss would be, his lips were soft and you found that cute. It didn’t last for long either because Vernon seemed to be flustered as he stiffly pulled his head back, looking into your eyes.

“You might not be my favorite person in the world, but I think I like you.” You found yourself saying and Vernon chuckled, scratching the back of his nape as his ears and neck were red.

“Go on a date with me? Even if I lost the bet….” Vernon asked with a cheeky grin, looking just as flustered as moments ago and it made you chuckle.

“I made that bet because I knew you would lose, but sure.” It was time things took a better turn in your life and maybe Vernon was the starting point.

#bvidzsoo #seventeen scenarios #seventeen oneshot #seventeen series #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol #yoon jeonghan #joshua hong #wen junhui #kwon soonyoung #jeon wonwoo #lee jihoon #lee seokmin #kim mingyu #xu minghao #boo seungkwan #hansol vernon chwe #lee chan #seventeen ot13 #seventeen vernon #vernon pairing #vernon oneshot #vernon angst #vernon fluff #seventeen racing au #seventeen high school au #seventeen illegal racing au #seventeen racer au

[rekrappeter]

there’s so much you don’t know

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: after the death eaters swarm bill & fleur’s wedding, fred can’t keep his feelings at bay in fear that something might happen

warnings: mention of war, mentions of torture, mentions of death, swearing, typos, small bit of angst, fluff

notes: please let me know what you think of this, feedback would be amazing thank you

The woman that stared back at you in the cracked mirror was someone you barely recognised in that moment. It was surreal that a purple dress hung loosely on your body, your hair pinned to how you wanted it, and the make-up that decorated your face was hiding the heavy bags and stressed acne that the past few months brought. Everyone thought it was deranged to have a wedding in the current times, when the wizarding world was falling apart, but everyone also knew they needed a distraction. People needed one night to themselves before everything went wild. ‘The calm before the storm,’ Arthur Weasley forced a smile during the conversation at dinner a week ago. 

“The calm before the storm,” you whispered to yourself, trying to zip your dress up from behind with unnecessary struggle. You have been sharing a room with Hermione and Ginny for the past week, helping Molly prepare for the wedding and calming Fleur down in moments of madness. Walking over to the ajar door, you called out Hermione’s name and when there was a steady silence that followed, you tried Ginny’s. But no one answered your calls for help until a head popped out from the room just above you, looking over the ballister. 

“Everything okay, love?” Out of everyone that was scattered around the house, of course it had to be Fred Weasley. It wasn’t that you disliked him or held any cynical feelings towards the older boy, it was the complete opposite in fact. When you met his younger brother, Ron, on the train during your first year at Hogwarts, you never expected to fall madly in love with his family member. It was hard not to fall for Fred when he introduced you, and at first you pushed it off as a crush but here you were, nearly seven years later, with a blush painting your cheeks and the nauseous butterflies swirling in your stomach. 

“I’m okay, have you seen Hermione anywhere?” you called up to him, trying to calm your heart before it jumped out of your chest - that would be a gory sight that you weren’t ready for. 

“I heard mum call them out help with the decorations,” Fred replied.

“Great, Ginny as well?” 

“Yes, y/n,” An amused smirk tugged on his lips, watching your eyes dart between the stairs and his face. He found it entertaining that you couldn’t keep eye contact with him, after seven years of knowing each other he would have thought that you’d have warmed up to him by now. “Do you need my help?” Before you could make any noises of protest, Fred was already bouncing down the steps to your door. 

You knew there was no use in objecting to his offer, you had to get your dress zipped up before going downstairs and if he was the only person available to help, you’d have to suck your feelings up and get on with it. You brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your bare back, and turned so that Fred would understand what you needed help with. Because your back was to him, you missed the way he gulped at the sight of you, a red tint painting his cheeks. You gasped as his fingers trailed over your back, and he muttered an apology about his cold flesh but it wasn’t that that made you lose complete control, it was the fireworks igniting in your stomach at him touching you. The dress slowly started to tighten around your body, hugging your curves nicely as he zipped it up agonisingly slow. 

“Thank you, Fred,” you mumbled when he finished, taking one big step to create as much distance between your bodies as humanly possible. 

A small smile rested on his lips, his eyes flickering over your figure, “You look beautiful, y/n.” 

“Thank you,” you repeated, and you used this opportunity to take in his own appearance. He had his flaming red hair brushed back neatly, and the way the hair contrasted against his black suit made him look even more dashing than he usually did. “You look very handsome, Fred.” 

Fred bowed playfully, making you roll your eyes and giggle, before accepting his outstretched arm and letting him walk you down the stairs to join the other. You caught the eye of Ginny who gave you a wide eyed look, sneaking a wink in your direction when Fred bid you a quick goodbye before dancing out to where George and his other brothers were getting ready to lift the marquee. 

“What was that?” Ginny swayed to your side, she bumped your shoulder with her own.

“Nothing, he just helped me with my dress when you were no where to be found,” you snapped playfully, walking out to the garden and taking in a deep breath of the fresh air. 

Ginny filled her mouth with a pig in blanket, wiping away the crumbs to hide the evidence. “Oh, I heard you, I just knew Fred would be there as well.” 

“Ginny!” you gasped, the sudden outburst made George and Fred glance in your direction, but you didn’t notice, too focused on their little sister being a minx. “Will you ever stop playing cupid? It didn’t work last year, it won’t work this year.”

“You two are both just stupid, you’re in love with each other and won’t do anything about it.” 

“She’s not wrong you know?” Harry chimed up, stepping out of the door behind you and you shot him a glare. 

“What’s this? Gang up on y/n day?” 

“That’s everyday,” Harry smiled, complimenting you before turning his attention to Ginny. You rolled your eyes at the pair, who were they to talk about being too oblivious to notice when someone was in love with you? 

After a beautiful ceremony that announced Bill and Fleur newlyweds, the golden chairs that decorated the tent slowly started to disappear and the walls that kept all the guests inside opened up, highlighting the beautiful orange sky that was settling over the countryside. You excused yourself to go back inside the Burron, embarrassed of the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. Weddings always made you cry, it was a weakness that you never wanted people to know. The thought of two people expressing their love and promising to spend the rest of their lives together made you emotional. 

When you returned, the party was in full swing. You scanned the crowd, seeing Ron and Hermione dancing together, well Hermione was the one dancing. You couldn’t make out what Ron was doing, it was a mix of a jig and a waltz, his arms swaying in the strangest of directions. You spotted the disguised Harry talking to Luna Lovegood, sending a small wave her way when she caught your eye. You tried to look busy, hoping she wouldn’t make her way over to you. When you spotted Fred, your heart leaped with an ache at the sight of him dancing with a distant cousin of Fleur’s. You tried not to focus on how beautiful she was, her long blonde hair swaying as Fred laughed and spun her around. You quickly grabbed a glass of Elderflower wine off the tray as the waiter passed you, downing it in one gulp. 

“Slow down there, princess,” George smiled at you as he walked with you to an empty table, but before you could take a seat, he grabbed your hand and dragged you over to the dancefloor.

“George, you know I don’t dance,” you whined, pouting up at the taller boy. 

“You can stand on my feet, I’ll do the moves,” You hated how you were so comfortable with George yet you could barely string a full sentence when Fred was around. You tried your best to follow George’s lead before you gave up and stood on his toes, his feet a lot bigger than yours. 

You let him spin you around, laughing at his comments about the women’s hairpieces and how he wondered if he was at a wedding or a zoo. It was a lighthearted conversation, something that you needed to distract you from his twin dancing with an angel on the other side of the room. Everytime George spun, your eyes automatically found Fred’s figure, the curiosity getting the best of you. George stopped spinning you, his back to Fred as you found yourself looking over his shoulder at him. 

“He’ll come to his senses soon,” your eyes flickered to George’s, feigning confusion but yu knew exactly what he was talking about. “He feels the same as you do, he’s just in denial.” 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” A bellowed laugh erupted from George’s lungs, his red hair bouncing as he shook his head in amusement. “Shut up, G,” you hissed, as curious eyes landed on the pair of you. 

“You think I don’t know how you feel about my brother? It’s painfully obvious, love,” you groaned at his words, the dancing soon stopped. 

“Then what’s wrong with me? Wh-Why doesn’t he like me?” 

“Have you ever told him?” George questioned, the frown on your face giving him his answer, “And he does like you, it’s disgustingly cute. Trust me, the sooner you two get together the better. I can’t keep losing sleep because he can’t make up his mind on which way to tell you.” 

“Really?” you piped up, any doubt you’ve been experiencing over the last twenty minutes completely vanished. George reassured you, about to make another comment when a bolt of blue flickering light ceased any further excitement. It took you a moment to notice the patronus in the centre of the dancefloor. 

“The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

In a heartbeat, chaos erupted around you. Guests were yelling for their partners, others disapparating as far away from the Burrow as possible, and your wide eyes glancing up at George as the Death Eaters stormed the marquee. You pushed through the crowd, your fingers intertwining with George’s as your eyes scanned the crowd trying to find the missing twin. Spells were being casted from every angle, members of the Order protecting guests but they were too strong. A hand grabbing your free arm made you jump in surprise, but relief washed over you when Fred’s eyes connected with yours. Immediately, you felt safe. 

Hours had passed, each member of the Order getting interrogated by the Death Eaters that swarmed the reception. You had excused yourself from the worried eyes of the Weasley family, and the tears spilled from your eyes the moment you shut the door to the bedroom. You knew you were being watched so you tried to stay away from the window, sliding down the uneven wall and bringing your knees to your chest. Your heart was beating rapidly due to the fear washing over you. 

The door to the bedroom creaked open, Fred popping his head in as he sent you a sad smile. “Are you hurt?” he asked, sitting down across from you. His long legs folded in front of you, the blood drizzling from a cut just above his eyebrow. 

“M-my wrist is sore, it could have been worst…” you whispered, you were thankful that everyone was safe and no one was harmed as much as you would have expected from the Death Eaters. "How is everyone downstairs?"

Fred sighed, his head hanging, "Everyone is a bit shook up but at least we're alive." 

An unexpected sob passed by your lips, your hands visibly shaking at his words. The thought of losing anyone in this house sent shivers down your spine, but you only just realised now that it is a possibility. Someone could have died tonight, someone could die tomorrow night. The war was happening and there was nothing you could do about it. "W-we're only kids," you sobbed, unconsciously falling into Fred's side as his arms immediately wrapped around you. He nuzzled his head into your hair, muttering words of reassurance as he let you cry on the floor. His fingers rubbed circles around your bare arms, the dress that was once so beautifully ironed creased and torn at the ends.

Silence stretched around the room, the sound of your sobs echoing off the four walls. Fred thought carefully about the words he spoke next, he was fearful that he had left it too late. But the possibility of not making it out alive settled within him tonight, the fear of taking his feelings for you to the grave overcame the fear of being rejected by you. "Y/n, I have to tell you something."

You leaned your body back from him, panic written across your features but the light smile on his face seized any worries. "What is it?" You whispered, moving to lean on your knees beside him. Your heart was pounding against your chest, you were praying and hoping that this was going in the direction you’ve dreamt about for years. 

Fred heaved a heavy sigh, his head falling back to hit against the beige wallpaper with a bang but he didn't care. His eyes stared into yours, watching how your tongue danced across your bottom lip and how your eyes were flickering from his to his mouth. There were no words to explain how he truly felt about you. Instead of speaking, Fred jumped forward and connected his lips to yours within seconds. Your eyes were wide, his were too but when neither of you pulled away, your eyes fluttered closed and you relaxed into his body.

His arms lay limp at his side before you shuffled closer to him and he brought his hands to cup your face. You shifted to rest both of your knees on either side of his body, the kiss deepening and it was everything you dreamed of. You lost count of the amount of times that you’ve dreamt about this moment, the countless nights you’d stare at the ceiling hoping and wishing that this would happen. When the fight for air became too much, you pulled away from Fred. A twinkle appeared in his eyes, his lips twitching to a smile as he breathed out in disbelief. 

“Why did it take you so long to do that?” you asked, your hand caressing over his face as you brushed away a couple of strands of his hair. 

A pink blush settled over Fred’s cheeks, and he sighed placing his hands on your waist. “If anything happens to me, I just wanted you to know how I feel about you.” 

The reality of what was happening slowly draped over your shoulders, your heart heavy knowing that blood will be lost during the upcoming war. The thought of losing Fred when you’ve only just got him made you want to never let go of him, the idea of running away and leaving flashed through your thoughts but you knew you couldn’t. Neither of you would abandon the people you loved. “We’ll get out of this alive, all of us.” 

The look Fred gave you made your heart shatter into tiny unmendable pieces. You were living in a dream, and you knew it, but you wanted to hold onto hope until you took your last breaths whether they come in two months from now or twenty years. “Some of us have already died, there will be more to come.” It hurt Fred to speak the truth, the thought of losing you was something he wasn’t equipped to deal with just yet. 

“Can we just have tonight then?” you whispered, looking longingly into his eyes as you brought your lips to his again. He nodded into the kiss, his hands trailing up and down your body as he brought you closer to him. He’d die happy if it was in this moment. 

#fred weasley #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fandom #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #weasley twins #weasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x y/n

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 11 - Friends

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Angst, Fluff

Summary: You convince Gojo to make up with your best friend and memories from the past come up. 

A/N: A wild ex-boyfriend appears! I am finally introducing the character and getting into some backstory. I got some smutty chapters coming up, which I am excited to share because I do love writing sexy Gojo X comments are always appreciated! 

- - - 

( Three Years Ago)

You cleared the plates in front of you as you made your way back to your kitchen. You packed the meal that you had taken the time to meticulously prepare, including the expensive steaks you bought this morning and the vegetables that you hand picked at the farmer’s market. As you opened the fridge to put away the items, you saw the row of vanilla cupcakes placed neatly on a pan, your shaky handwriting spread across each one that read “ Five Years ” with red hearts decorated on the extras. Suddenly, it all seemed silly how you took the time to prepare a surprise anniversary dinner for your boyfriend. You’ve both been together for so long but you still insisted on making every occasion special.

After you tidied up your dining table, you picked up the wine glass you have been nursing for the last hour and made your way over to your bedroom, where you sat on the chair next to your vanity. You removed the earrings that your boyfriend had bought you for your birthday, your favorite pair because they matched beautifully against your skin, and safely tucked them away in your jewelry box. You were disappointed that you made such a big deal out of tonight, feeling like a sentimental fool as you took a sip of your drink. Haru has been so preoccupied with work lately and the pressure of being in a highly competitive field was getting to him. Of course with the way things have been he wouldn’t remember that tonight was your anniversary dinner. You were trying to be mature about it but you couldn’t ignore that you were hurt. You glanced at your phone, reading 10:45 on the clock before finally giving up on the hope that he would show up.

You removed the dress you were wearing, a bold shade of orange that accentuated your body in all the right places - a dress that he bought you while you both went on a summer trip to Okinawa a few years ago. You changed into something a little more comfortable, throwing on a tank top and some loose lounge pants instead.

You heard your phone ping, a message popping up on the screen from Gojo.

Gojo : How did the dinner go?

You sighed to yourself, before plopping down onto your mattress. You tapped away at the keyboard, erasing each message a few times as you were unsure whether you wanted to vent or give him a brief explanation.

You : It didn’t…I think he’s still at work :(

Gojo : That sucks :\ Well, if you have any leftover cupcakes, I will gladly take them off your hands.

You: Nice try, idiot.

Gojo: I didn’t hear you say I couldn’t have any :)

When you didn’t respond to his message, Gojo followed up with another text that read:

Gojo: You okay?

You: I’m fine, I was just looking forward to tonight. I’ll get over myself. Tell me about your night, you can keep me preoccupied from my disappointment lol

Gojo merely responded with some eye emojis, a cheeky indication as to what he has been up to this evening.

You: At least one of us got some action...what’s her name?

Gojo: No idea, I was too distracted by her legs to care.  

You merely rolled your eyes at his comment.

You: It doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?

Gojo: I’m a simple guy, really…

You: …

Gojo: …

You: In WHAT universe?!

Gojo : Pshh, so mean to me all the time :(

You: With reason :)

You smiled when you sent that last text, grateful that Gojo came in at the right time with a distraction. You tried your best not to dwell on the dismal way your evening ended and instead continued to list off the many reasons why the word “simple” and “Gojo Satoru” did not go hand and hand with each other. Your conversation made time fly but that was usually the case whenever you spoke with your friend.

You were so lost in the playfully heated debate you were having, you barely heard the knock coming from your front door.

You abandoned your conversation to see who it was, surprised to find a massive bouquet of flowers greeting you on the other side.

“What…”

Haru peaked from behind the flowers, his sweet smile spreading as he looked at you with sad eyes.

“Happy anniversary!” he chirped, but you could hear the anxiousness in his tone. “ I know I’m late, I know I missed dinner…”

A deep sigh escaped him, as he slightly slumped his shoulders, extending both his hands out to you to pass the bouquet.

“I know this is a meaningless gift in comparison to whatever amazing thing you prepared, I know my efforts don’t even come close to yours, you always put so much care into everything you do. By the time I knew I was late, I was running around the city like a mad man hoping that someone, anyone, would be kind enough to open their shop for me so I would at least not come back empty handed…”

“Haru, take a breath…” you replied, hearing how quickly he was blurting out his words, something he usually did when he was nervous.

You took the bouquet from his hands, admiring the selected assortment of your favorite florals, all picked out by your boyfriend. You traced your fingers along each petal, some a little bruised and you could tell that these flowers were from  the leftovers of the day.

Haru approached you, cupping your face in his hands as he leaned down and planted a kiss on your lips.

“I’m so sorry . None of my excuses justify missing dinner tonight. I swear I am going to make it up to you…”

You tried to calm him down, running your fingers through his light brown hair and taking in every word he said as you remained focused on his hazel eyes. Your heart flutters thinking of him galavanting around the city in his disheveled work suit trying to knock on every florists’ door, a funny anecdote you will surely use against him in the future.  

“How do you plan on making it up to me?” You teased, noticing the way his brow raised at your question.

He pulled you closer into him, planting kisses along your neck before he brushed his lips against your ear to say, “I’m taking the weekend off, how does a nice trip to Hakone sound?”

“ Mmm, ideal… ” you replied, clutching the bouquet of flowers as he hugged you, “but if you keep holding me close, you’re going to ruin this lovely gift you bought me…”

“Then I’ll buy you another, and another, and another ...until I’ve given you enough flowers so that you can plant an entire garden,” he kissed you again, his fingers stroking the back of your neck as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry, baby…” he repeated, his voice wavering slightly from his second apology.

“It’s okay, work comes first. I know you have been busy and probably should have planned our evening with you instead of surprising you. But you’re here now and that's what matters.”

He nodded his head, finally untangling himself from your arms, relieved that you seemed to have forgiven him.

“ I love you so much.”

“ I love you too, Haru .”

You gave him a small smile, tilting your head towards the direction of your kitchen, “It might be too late for dinner but I baked you some cupcakes if you’re up for a little snack…”

Haru removed his blazer, carefully hanging it over his elbow before undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. He held your hand, following your footsteps as you led him into the direction of your kitchen.

“ I can’t wait to try them. ”

( Present)

“ You brought me here under false pretences …” Gojo grumbled, holding himself back as you tugged on his jacket.

It’s been four months since the two of you started hooking up and weeks since he and Rina have even spoken to one another.

After Gojo confessed that she knew about your relationship, you managed to find the time to sit down with your best friend for a heart to heart. The two of you had a ritual which included locking yourselves up in a room with snacks  and drinks until you came to resolve whatever conflict you were dealing with.

“I just don’t understand why you kept this from me,” Rina explained, before taking a sip of the mixed cocktail you both made.

“ You’ve been so overprotective ever since Haru and I broke up…it’s hard for me to talk to you because you start analyzing every little thing I do. Like when I told you I wanted to stop dating for a while, you kept insisting that I was making a mistake because I was running scared…”

“I also know you’re a hopeless romantic, and a few bad dates weren’t fitting this idealised version you have of love…” Rina pressed, “You got lucky with Haru, but diving back into the game takes time and work…”

“I know I was lucky. I know it’s not usual for the first guy you meet to be so… good ,” you replied, that word tasting bitter in your mouth, “But you keep pressuring me into something I am not ready for…”

“That’s not true!”

“Rina, you would take me out on “surprise” double dates when the two of us were just supposed to just be hanging out together. Whenever I talk about Haru, you shut down and change the subject immediately. I can’t even have a night out together without you herding every single eligible male and asking me my opinion…”

Rina sighed, “it sounds way worse when you say it out loud...”

“It’s like you can’t stand that I’m just… a little broken . I let Haru become a part of who I am for five years and losing him feels like I lost a part of me, and I am struggling trying to get that person back. You want me to be okay so badly it’s stopping me from opening up to you…”

Rina inched her way closer as the two of you sat side by side. A sigh escaped her before she spoke, “I’m not good at this…I’m sorry for making you feel that way. I just can’t stand seeing you so hurt. I know that he took a piece of your happiness and I am so angry that he did. I hate that he betrayed your trust, but more so that you haven’t been able to be yourself without him…”

She squeezed your shoulder before giving you a gentle reminder, “but he never defined you. You’re attaching yourself to the love you had for him. And you will find somebody else, somebody better …”

“Maybe but I can’t see myself falling in love again…at least not anytime soon…”

Rina rested her head on your elbow, “I don’t want you to ever think you can’t speak to me…we’ve lasted way longer than all the exes that have walked in and out of our lives…”

You were happy to mend this small fracture, one of the many that has tried to hinder your friendship.

You eventually explained your little arrangement with Gojo, watching Rina’s reaction closely and trying to pull the truth of what she  exactly  said to him.

“I may have thought you were dating, like seriously dating, and told him he wasn’t good enough for you. I am glad to know that you are not. We don’t need to trade one man whore for another…”

You laughed, “Gojo has always made it clear that he has no desire to commit to anyone. I’m not worried. Besides, we can stop our arrangement anytime we are over it.”

“Sooo, when might that be?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “right now, I’m having fun and I think he is too…”

Rina hummed, you could tell she was thinking about something but whatever ran through her mind in that moment she chose to keep to herself.

Even though you and Rina smoothed things over, you realised that neither she or Gojo tried to make an effort to speak to one another. He was avoiding her at all costs while she chose to ignore  the subject entirely. You still had no idea what was said that set those two off but you were over this cold game they were playing.

“Between your inability to handle any confrontation and her stubborn attitude, you two are going to drag this on for way longer than it needs to be…” you lectured.

You paused when you arrived at her store, staring up at Gojo with pleading eyes. “I don’t like being the reason why you two aren’t speaking… please just talk to her…”

Gojo whined, “throw it on my conscience instead, that way you have no reason to feel guilty…”

You furrowed your brows before letting go of him, but a thought passed your mind which gave you an idea, “Remember that thing you brought up the other night? Your little roleplaying idea…”

Gojo arched his brows from underneath his blindfold, surprised that you were even bringing this up. “ Yes… ”

You smirked, stepping closer to him without actually touching him at all. “If you do this for me then I'll happily return the favor…”

His eyes widened, his heart racing slightly as a wave of excitement rushed through him.

You could see he was contemplating your offer, finally scoffing in defeat. “You know saying no to you was a lot easier when you weren’t bribing me with sex…” he grumbled, as he begrudgingly walked passed you.

“You did tell me once that you were a man of simple taste…”

“And I vividly remember you disagreeing with me.”

“Thank you!” You called out watching him reach the handle of the entrance door.

“Just know I am expecting you to hold up your end of the deal,” he replied before making his way inside.

***

Gojo sat at the counter, the awkward silence hung heavy in the air as Rina waited for him to break the tension. When that didn’t happen, she sighed to herself before storming to the backroom of her shop.

Gojo waited for her return, his eyes widening when she finally reappeared with something in her hands.

“ I’m sorry for how I spoke to you,” she said, bowing in his direction and handing him some treats.

“Aww, Rina-chan, how did you know kikufuku was my favorite?” Gojo questioned, his tone softening his sweet words as he held the packet between his fingers.

“I heard it through the grapevine…”

Gojo couldn’t hide his pleasured grin.

You were always so considerate of everyone, going above and beyond to make them happy and paying close attention to the things they liked the most. You must have already spoken to Rina before he came here, playing the role of matchmaker between friends.

Rina definitely noticed his response.

“Thank you,” he replied as he opened up the packet, “I know your anger was coming from a protective place. I don’t fault you for it. Besides, you and I can happily agree on one thing…”

“What’s that?”

Gojo smirked, “she’s too good for me…”

Rina swallowed hard, mainly because of how sincere that statement actually sounded.

“I care about her…”

Gojo hummed to himself, taking a bite of the sweet snack. “And you think I don’t?”

“Can I be honest?”

“ Please. ”

“I am not questioning your care for her, I am questioning what your intentions are. I won’t apologize for not trusting you.  You promised me after she broke up with Haru that you wouldn’t make a move on her but here we are now…”

“I kept my promise.”

“You found a loophole…”

“It’s been three years…she’s allowed to move on.”

“Yes she is…”

“You know, I was surprised by how angry you got at her for keeping us a secret, especially since we both know that there are plenty of things you’re hiding from her right now. Then I started thinking that it wasn’t the secret that was bothering you, you just don’t want her moving on with me…”

Rina averted her gaze, completely surprised by how easily Gojo read her.

“Like I said, I don’t trust you…”

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter, “What did Haru tell you exactly?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I just want to know if you’re still adamant on convincing yourself that I am the bad guy or if you would like to know what actually happened between us…”

*** 

CHAPTER 12 - MUSE

#Gojo Satoru #Gojo Satoru x reader #Gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #Gojo Satoru x ofc #Gojo x ofc #Gojo Satoru x you #Gojo x you #gojo fanfic #jjk fan fiction #Gojo angst #Gojo fluff #Gojo smut

[footballerimaginess]

Fluffy Alphabet | Ben Chilwell

Here is Ben fluffy alphabet, I decided when I do my alphabet I would create my own and not follow a list. This is just my own creation.  If you want to send in players for me to do the fluffy alphabet, I will happily write them.  Word Count: 1,139  ADVICE - Ben always gave the best advice, whenever you was feeling down he was always there. Being the most amazing boyfriend he was. Always trying to cheer you up and giving advice on topics that he really hadn’t got much information on. But he wanted to make things better for you in whatever which way he could. 

BUBBLE BATHS - He would always run you a bubble bath, he secretly loved if he would get to have one. Obviously the boys never knew about this love he had. He would always be jealous when you had run one for yourself, always envious that he couldn’t jump in the bath with you.  CHINESE - When Ben recently announced on the Lions Den that he never had a Chinese before, you knew that needed to change. “Hmm not sure if it is my cup of tea, you know” Ben laughed much to your annoyance. (ironically I have never had a Chinese either, i think that is because I have a fear of trying all new foods lol) DANCE - You always make Ben do the dance TikTok’s with you. As much as he hated doing them, he would secretly love it really. No matter how much the boys took the piss out of him, it was always the best when he would dance with you.  EVERYTHING - You love everything about you and Ben, it was just amazing. The three years that you have been together, was just an adventure together. It was nothin but fun and you couldn’t wait to see where life took you.  FAMILY - All you and Ben ever wanted was to have your own family. When you fell pregnant, you were so elated and you couldn’t wait for your little one to enter into the world. You were either going to have a mini or potentially Ben’s double. GYM - The gym and you was not friends in the slightest, you absolutely hated it. But for some reason, Ben was the only reason you had started getting into the Gym. Maybe it was because it was some eye candy while you were working out, ever the distraction maybe.  HOLIDAY - You holidays were always a dream you loved exploring the world with Ben. It was always amazing. You couldn’t imagine anyone else to explore the world with. You had gone to Dubai, Italy, France, you name it. The trips you had planned was very long and you couldn’t wait for the future trips.  I DO - The most magical day of your life, the moment any girl dreams. Those two words, I do. Now you were Mrs Chilwell, the best day of your life.  JOGGERS - You were that annoying wife that had to steal Ben’s clothes, his joggers and jumpers were practically yours. He always reluctantly let you have them, despite him always being annoyed with you forever stealing his clothes.  KISS - Soft kisses, hard kisses, kisses on your head, lips, neck and hands. The kisses were just special when it was with Ben.  LITTLE THINGS - The little things Ben did for you is what made you smile. He would always kiss your forehead gently if you were still sleeping in while he had to leave early for training. Occasionally he would buy you flowers when he was away for games. The little things were what made the relationship extremely happy.  MY SHIRT - Ben loved it when you supported him wearing his kit, you wore his Chelsea shirt to games sometimes. As well as if he had a good game, he loved it when you wore it too.  NO MAKE UP DAYS - Those days were usually the best, the chilling days together. The days where you just laid on the sofa, watching rubbish TV all day. It was just enjoyable doing nothing especially when life with a footballer was always hectic. Ben secretly loved you wearing no make up too. He hated being covered in makeup.  ORANGE - He would hint that you were always looking good in orange as it suited you incredibly well. 

PUPPY - Ben had been hinting he wanted to bring a puppy into your relationship for ages now. You needed a little bit of convincing as you wasn’t really sure how you felt about having one. You went around and looked at a few dog shelters and finally found the cutest little puppy.  QUIET - The quiet days, the times where you just wanted to house to be pure silent. The one were Ben was at games and you just watched TV on your own. Your little baby was out with your parents. Just those much needed days or pure joy and you own company.  RAIN - Kisses in the rain, walking in the rain and jumping in puddles. Your little baby loved running in their wellies, straight into the muddy puddles. Someone had watched too many episodes of Peppa Pig to be letting this happen.  SUNSETS - The one thing you loved in life is to go and see the sun setting. Always walking around and taking about a 1000 pictures in the process of seeing the sun setting. The amount of videos you had taken too, but seeing the sun set always made you happy.  TIME APART - Time being away from Ben was always hard, having to deal with your baby and him missing milestones is always the hardest. You were always so proud of him and supported him whenever he was playing. But the time away you will never be used too.  UNDERWEAR - Feeling super confident in your underwear made you feel good. Ben again would compliment you and he admired you in your new underwear. Maybe leaning towards time in the bedroom.  VALENTINES DAY - The surprise of Valentine’s Day was just too much for you too take. Ben took you to your favourite restaurant you had your first date. “This is so lovely” you smiled as you took in all the atmosphere and food with Ben.  WINNER - Watching Ben lift the Champions League in Portugal was one of the biggest highlights in your and his relationship. You were just so happy that you got to witness this.  Xxx - The amount of kisses on the end of text messages always made you laugh. The boys would always smirk when they saw the text messages coming through.  YOU - Ben loved everything about you, complimenting you all about everything. No matter how many times he would compliment you, it still made you blush all of the time.  Zzzzz - Sleep is much needed, Ben letting you have lay ins when he had games when your child had another bad night. You slept in with Ben, cosy sleep as you needed it. Away games meant Ben would sleep in.  TAGLIST: @footballffbarbiex @evie-pr @footballdaydream @footballxixstars @penguintransporter @bbychilly @mrsmctominay @football-and-fanfics @donkeykai @meteora-fc @sanchos-dream @trentski26​ @wheelergrealish

#hayleysfluffalphabet #fluffy alphabet #ben chilwell imagine #football imagines #football imagine #football one shots #football one shot #futbol imagines #futbol imagine #football fluffy alphabet

[inkformyblood]

the belonging they beg for

Day 02 @bobadinweek prompt: Armour

Warnings: Identity issues

Boba ran his hand over the edge of the vambrace, working his fingers beneath the jagged raised edge of the metal to try and lessen the biting pressure on the bare skin beneath.

A memory sparked in the back of his mind, the edges softened and worn by the relentless march of time, of watching his buir swing himself into the pilot seat and settle back, curling his fingers over the edge of the vambrace in the same motion. Boba had intended to fix it, but, like most things, it had fallen by the wayside, one idiosyncrasy of his armour among others, like the buckle that had to be pulled to one side to let the clasp release on his chest plate.

But he had forgotten what it was like.

Grief and guilt twisted his stomach, burning acid — both remembered and actual — settled at the back of his throat, and he rose from the pilot’s chair, unsure of a destination but knowing he had to move.

“I’ll drive for a bit.” Fennec slipped into the seat he had just vacated like a living shadow, pinning him with a stare as sharp as any vibroblade. She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head just so, and Boba was eerily reminded of the carrion birds that had surrounded her when he had found her, all sharp edges and a burnished beskar core.

“You sure?” His voice cracked, and he stretched out a hand to press his fingers into the faint indents in the back of the chair — signs of a ship that had been well-lived in and damage that occurred when he had been too young to know how to fix it. The thought didn’t cut as deep as it used to, comforted as he was by the weight of his buir’s armour, but his heart still twisted in his chest.

“Go.”

The cramped corridors of his ship seemed brighter than usual, the strip lights glowing like the lightning bugs that danced above the oceans on Kamino on dark summer nights, and Boba followed them, moving out of instinct rather than conscious thought. A sound to his right made him pause, flicking on the scanner in his HUD before he could blink — old habits coming back to him, and they cut deeper than he could have imagined.

Oh.

In the wake of everything and the rush of reclaiming his father’s armour, his armour, Boba had forgotten about the Mandalorian.

The other man had folded himself away so quietly when they had all come aboard, his voice cracking and breaking in a murmur of thanks as Boba showed him to a small room away from the others. It had been a cell before Boba had begun to refurbish it and the walls still bore the dents and hollows from unwilling quarries, but it was serviceable enough.

Looking through the closed door, the heat signature glowed like a beacon, the reds and oranges of bared skin stealing Boba’s breath before he looked away. Guilt curled in his chest, grasping fingers locking around his ribs, and he forced himself to keep walking, to keep staring at the pale yellow lights as if they would wash the blurred figure of the Mandalorian, curled into a ball on the floor, his face buried in his hands and lost in his grief, from his mind.

Boba owed him more than he could ever say.

Fennec was good company, quick with a biting remark and quicker with a shot, but she couldn’t understand the pain that Boba carried over losing his father’s armour. The Mando did.

He could have kept Boba’s armour, denied him his heritage as so many had before, but he was different. But now he was grieving over the loss of his son, a Jetti, and Boba couldn’t help but be amazed at the net the universe had trapped him in.

A spark of pain flared down his arm, and he glanced down to curl his hand beneath the jagged edge of the vambrace once more. The soft cloth he wore wasn’t comparable to his flight suit, presenting no barrier against the metal. It would get fixed in the morning.

There were other things that were different about his armour, but Boba’s mind refused to take stock of the details, skittering away to thoughts of his bed and of the dark comfort of sleep. His boots rang as he climbed up the ladder to his quarters, the sound echoing back to him.

Another memory, drawn up from the depths, bitter through his skull. He could remember curling into the small makeshift cot set at the foot of his father’s bed and listening to the sighs of the ship as it settled. His hand was curled so tightly around the leg of his bantha plush — the fur worn away in places to reveal the woven fabric beneath. As he rolled, his free hand stretched out across the sheets to brush against the hard wood of the carved Mandalorian figure, and he heard the footsteps echo.

He didn’t breathe, couldn’t move, fear bursting sharp and sickening in his chest. His buir was out following up on a bounty, but he hadn’t called out to Boba when he’d entered. He hadn’t heard the musical notes of the alarm system activating or the thunks of someone falling foul of it.

“Hey, Boba. You should be asleep, chek’ika.”

Jango’s hand, warm and calloused, wrapped around Boba’s, drawing him onto his lap with ease, and Boba abandoned his hold on the bantha, the carved figure and the small slugthrower he had removed from the cubby hole to throw his arms around his buir.

The room was cold when he nudged the door shut behind him, collapsing onto the bed with a groan. His armour was solid beneath him, the plates curved around his torso and chest like an embrace. He should take them off to sleep, but darkness stole over him before he could blink, relaxing truly for the first time since he had pulled himself from the belly of the Sarlaac.

His nightmares followed like hunting strills hot on his heels, sending him gasping into the pale light of early morning, his hand steady on his blaster as he rose it towards an enemy too big for him to see and too full of hate to ever die.

⁂

It was such an easy thing to do, and yet…

The water of the refresher beat against Boba’s skull, pooling in the hollows and ridges of his scars and the curve of his bones, before cascading down his back, soaking through his flight suit. His fingers caught the edge of his vambrace, worrying at the indentation it left in his skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove it.

Below, he could hear the rumble of the engine cut through by the crackling laughter of Mando, a surprise to all of them and even himself when Boba had managed to tease it out of him days prior. He had frozen before one hand had risen to press to the sliver of skin between his flight suit and his helmet — golden in the brief glimpse Boba had caught before he ducked his head to study his cards.

He knew the other man must remove his armour at times, despite his Creed. At times, after Boba had raised his gaze from fixing the wiring that ran through the Slave One, he had caught glimpses of bleeding red and sunset orange through the heat-sensitive filter, but he had turned away. He was unwilling to break the other man’s vow despite his accidental first study.

Boba raised his hands, taking hold of the fastening at his shoulder and started to pull. Panic washed over him, filling his lungs and sending him to his knees, fresh pain swelling through the damaged joints and a cold certainty that he had broken his prosthetic. His hands shook as he shifted, bracing himself against the wall to swing his legs out in front of him, ignoring the water soaking through every space in his armour.

His father was always careful to maintain his armour and to take care of himself. Ke’juri beskar’gam. And now, Boba couldn’t remove it to look after himself, let alone maintain his armour. Mando has fixed up some of the larger wounds the Jawa’s or the Sarlaac’s acid had left, and Boba could recognise the careful handiwork of the Marshal amongst the more confident touch, but it was still Boba’beskar’gam.

Why couldn’t he take it off?

Deep down, he knew why. He had lost the armour once before and couldn’t live through losing it again.

“Boba?”

Boba couldn’t breathe, couldn’t force his closing throat to croak out a reply, his fingers biting into his arm until he thought he would tear it open—

“Boba. Udesii, ni cuy olar.”

He couldn’t see, dark spots dancing through his vision, a battle raging between the roar of the water above him, around him, and the harsh rush of air pulled into his protesting lungs. He was drowning in burning acid, darkness all around him until he was nothing, until he was less than nothing. He was armourless and alone, his final tie to his buir torn from him until he raised his hand to his face and was met with a gaping hole where his skin had been—

“Boba. I’m here. You’re safe. Your armour is safe.”

Light. Bright and fractured, cascading over the walls — metal rather than living flesh or rippling cloth of a Tusken’s tent — and Boba gasped, pitching forwards, his grip tightening on Mando’s forearms.

The man swayed with his motion, the kov’nyn remaining grounded rather than a true Keldabe, the metal fogged with steam. Boba’s gaze locked onto his, the barest hint of warm brown eyes through the clouded visor, crinkled at the corners with concern.

“I have you.”

“I can’t, I—“ The words tumbled through his fingers as he tried to reach for them, his thoughts scattered and scrambling through memories he hadn’t drawn up from the depths in years: the cold walls of his prison cell, unyielding beneath his hands except for the slow scrape of a sharpened scrap of metal across the walls; a feast, bright and warm, and his buir’s laugh flooding through him as Boba leaps across the table, his hand stretching for the closest weapon.

“You can,” Mando spoke clearly, insistent, and his hands were steady, sliding from Boba’s elbows to his shoulders. There was a pause, a heartbeat’s worth of hesitation before he moved to slide his fingers across Boba’s neck.

His skin was cold amidst the burning torrent of the water, and Boba couldn’t hold back a gasp, twitching away from the touch and yet wanting to press back against it. His gloves were on his belt, Boba’s hands brushing against the soft leather as they settled into the embrace, two broken men trying to blunt their edges for the other.

“Peace,” Mando murmured, his thumbs pressing into the numb edges around Boba’s scars, soothing and granting redemption in the same motion.

“I lost my buir’s armour. I cannot follow The Way.” Anger ignited in Boba’s chest for an instant before it fell away, too weak to do anything more than leave a momentary wound. He knew he wandered the outskirts despite the history of his family, forever marred by the same wounds of his father and yet proud to carry them. “Mando, I’m not like you.”

“Din. My name is Din.”

Din rocked with him, absorbing the crests and swells of Boba’s panic, humming a low note that vibrated through his bones until it had settled there.

Boba’s grip tightened on the vambrace, the edge cutting into his skin and felt part of him die with the motion. He couldn’t part with his armour again, not even for a moment. His buir died in his armour, cut down in a moment, and Boba would follow in his footsteps, maintaining that connection with his dying breath.

Some distant part of him knew he was spiralling, knew he was illogical and panicked, lashing out like an animal in a trap, but here was his home. He could afford to let the panic wash over him now. He couldn’t say why, but he knew Din was safe, knew the other man wouldn’t hold his weakness against him.

“Can you—“ Din caught himself, and Boba saw his gaze shift to one side, a frown passing over the fraction of his face he could see before he continued. “Can you close your eyes? And keep them closed?”

Boba obeyed in an instant, the ringing in his ears and the dull roar of the refresher seeming to grow louder before a familiar sound wiped them away. Din’s helmet unsealed with a sigh and a pop, and he yelped as the water struck him, Boba swaying with the urge to reach out, but he remained in place, his eyes shut.

“You’re safe. Your armour is safe here.”

Din drew their faces together once more, and Boba felt the hesitancy in his hands, the slight intake of breath as their noses bumped together once more.

“Thank you,” Boba rasped during an ebb, his eyes twitching behind closed lids. “Thank you for returning my armour to me.”

Din didn’t respond, but Boba could sense his smile in the way he pressed forward a fraction and the way his grip tightened on Boba’s neck.

“If you’re willing, I can keep watch?”

Boba felt the world right beneath him, panic slipping away in an instant to be replaced with a certainty that flooded through him. It was a panic-driven problem, but what Din was offering was a solution, a way around it.

“Yes. Please.”

The clasp came away easily now. Every piece felt like redemption as water cascaded over Boba, and he hummed, scraps of a song that grew in strength the more he worked. It was a clone song, rhythmic and repetitive, a call and response meant to be shared amongst a battalion as they worked, but Boba sang along with his memories as he worked on his armour, finally cleaning it and himself of the dust and grime that gathered.

⁂

“—we’ll haul away, vode.”

Boba paused, letting his words hang in the air, and sneezed. Dust seemed to cluster with the pockets of sand in Tatooine, dancing in the fractured sunlight that filled the corridors of the Palace. It was a marvel of engineering and architecture, natural light without heat that could be closed off if needed.

Many things had changed since Boba took over the throne, and this was one of them.

“Can’t you see the storm clouds gathering—“

He curled his fingers beneath the vambrace, feeling the worn edge of the metal in the same place where his buir had adjusted it a thousand times before and turned his attention back to the neat tangles of wires in front of him. Boba knew his armour was a blend of beskar, manufactured from whatever a roaming scavengers band of Mandalorian’s could find for his buir, but it was different truly seeing it in person.

He trailed the edge of the multi-tool over a cluster of wires from Florrum, their casing a vibrant teal amidst the dark ties, and paused over a repair patch twined around one. Something bloomed in his chest, another root slipped between his rib cage and Boba bit back a smile.

Just when he thought he had found all of the repairs and small upgrades Din slipped into his armour in the short time he watched over it, he was proven wrong.

The water cracked and gurgled in the room behind him, and Boba took advantage of the break in the steady sound to close his eyes and listen. The slight click of beskar met his ears — the sound sharper and clearer than his own given the blended nature of his armour — and, beneath that, a faint hum. It wasn’t quite words, too soft and gentle, but it was the thread of a tune.

A song about returning to your bunk, safe and secure, after a mission. A song about being surrounded by those who love and care about you during hard times.

Din watched over Boba, so Boba would watch over Din while he was grieving and hurt, and when he wasn’t.

Boba hummed, catching the thread from Din and wove it into the words, feeling the truth he couldn’t say yet flow into them.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, my love, my one, my own.”

Translations:

Chek’ika: little dagger (affectionate)

Ke’juri beskar’gam: Wear armour (Resolnare)

Boba’beskar’gam: Boba’s armour

Udesii, ni cuy olar: Calm down, I am here.

#bobadinweek2021 #BobaDin #star wars #the mandalorian #boba fett #din Djarin

[madasthesea]

I’ve sort of accepted that all those Irondad WIPs I have are never going to get finished, not only because Marvel has pretty effectively killed my interest in the MCU, but also because I haven’t felt like writing in over a year now (not cause anything’s wrong, I just haven’t really wanted to). 

HOWEVER. There’s a fic that I was going to write about Venom Peter and while the story as a whole is definitely not even close to presentable, there’s a scene I really, really love and still want to share with people even though it has little to no context. It’s under the cut if you’re interested :)

(A bit of backstory for anyone who wants a bit of context. This whole story was supposed to be based on season 3B of Teen Wolf, with Nogitsune Stiles, for anyone that watched the show. Basically Stiles is possessed by an evil trickster spirit, but it takes a little while for it to take over and only comes out in bursts. It gets to the point that the audience, and the characters in the show, never really know if it’s Stiles or the Nogitsune pretending to be Stiles. 

There’s a scene where Scott, Stiles’ best friend and a werewolf, is stabbed through the stomach with a sword. They get away from the bad guys and Stiles soothes Scott like he’s going to take out the sword so Scott can heal with his magical abilities. He puts a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder, grabs the sword handle, then twists it in deeper instead of pulling it out. This scene is based on that.)

Peter looked down at Tony’s arm, the skin already swollen and red.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

It did, but Tony had had worse and telling Peter that it hurt would just make him feel even guiltier than he probably already did.

“Not much,” he said with a small smile, trying to catch his eye. But Peter was still looking down at the injury.

Peter stepped closer, his head tilting to one side. “That’s too bad.”

Tony’s head jerked up, teeth snapping together in surprise. Faster than Tony could blink, Peter’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm, his grip tight enough to bruise. Looking Tony dead in the eye, he began twisting it, sending white hot agony racing up Tony’s arm as his elbow popped out of place, the broken bones grating.

“How about now?”

Peter’s eyes were alight with curiosity, a childish sort of fascination. He tilted his head to one side as he watched Tony’s face contort in pain. He looked like Tony had just shown him something new in the lab, like they were tinkering with the Iron Man suit.

Tony swayed and Peter put his other hand on Tony’s waist, supporting him.

“Whoa, I’ve got you,” he murmured in that soft tone he used with Morgan, with May, with Tony when they were talking late at night. Tony was going to throw up.

He swallowed convulsively and he tried to even his breathing.

Peter smiled. Then wrenched Tony’s arm again. A hoarse scream clawed up his throat and even that hurt. His eyes watered uncontrollably from the pain.

Looking like a scientist observing a mouse in its cage, Peter reached up and wiped one of his tears away with his thumb, fingers brushing almost tenderly against Tony’s jaw.

Then he raised his thumb to his mouth and licked the tear away. Tony’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

Peter made a sound of appreciation. “You’re afraid. But not for yourself, right?”

Tony eyed the creature in front of him, the one that had taken his kid and used him to wreak havoc and sow destruction in the lives of everyone who knew him. The one that had no intention of letting Peter come out on the other side of this alive and whole. No, he was not afraid for himself.

Peter stepped away, letting Tony stagger backward until he hit the counter, pain still radiating throughout his body.

“Did you know,” Peter said, casually circling to the other side of the island, looking through cupboards as if searching for a snack after school, “that he can smell emotions? Only if they’re particularly strong or he’s really tuned into the person. Like you. That’s how he finds people to help sometimes, he smells their fear. Amazing, isn’t it?”

Peter lingered near the knife block for a long moment, thin fingers dancing over the handles in a reverent manner that made Tony’s stomach clench in anticipatory fear. Then he moved on, peered into the fridge.

“I didn’t know that, when I chose him. It was merely providence.” Peter pulled a carton of orange juice out of the fridge, squinting at the ingredients. After a moment, he wrinkled his nose and dropped it on the floor. Tony heard liquid spatter over the wood and huffed.

“My kind, we are... hungry. Starving. All the time. A bit—” he shot a grin over his shoulder at Tony “—like a teenage boy.”

“If all you needed was a burger run, you could have just said so,” Tony snapped, watching as Peter sniffed the jar of mayonnaise. “So, what, I get a few thousand calories in you and you’re on your way?”

Peter laughed; a familiar snort of amused teenage sass that made Tony’s teeth hurt with how almost-right it sounded. “Not quite,” he murmured. “Some of my kin are satisfied with mere food,” he said with disgust and a cup of yogurt was also carelessly tossed to the ground. “But I require something a little more filling.”

“If you say human flesh I’m gonna spontaneously combust,” Tony warned, his mouth dry.

His injured arm bumped the counter as he shifted his weight and his world briefly whited out. When he opened his eyes again, panting, Peter was suddenly right next to him, eyes fixed on Tony, inhaling deeply. He looked half mad, desperate. Hungry.

“All that feeling and you let it go to waste.” Peter leaned even closer.

“Ok, seriously, back off.” Tony retreated until his heels hit the stairs. He clenched the railing with his good hand.

Peter smiled, a sharp glinting thing and for a moment Tony felt all his animal instincts kick in, half of his brain screaming run and the other half yelling save Peter save him savehimsavehimsavehim. But Peter just turned, meandering toward the sink.

“I’m not a vampire, I’m not going to drink your blood,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “I eat what you feel. The stronger the emotion, the better.”

He paused in front of the pictures on the shelf.

“Like the anger of a child whose father never loved him,” he murmured, picking up Howard’s picture. Tony grit his teeth as the frame was flicked over Peter’s shoulder, shattering into pieces on the floor. The creature controlling Peter picked up the other frame, the image of Tony and Peter together. The photo that had saved the galaxy.

“Or the grief of a father whose love for his son was stronger than the laws of the universe.” He turned back to Tony.

Tony jumped as the frame was brought crashing down against the marble counter, splintering the wood and tearing the picture as shards of glass exploded outward. A sliver caught Peter on the cheek, cutting him.

It was instinct to reach out to him, to attempt to calm and comfort and protect. Tony didn’t stop himself fast enough.

Peter’s smile suddenly looked much less like Peter, much more like an alien wearing his skin. His laugh echoed off the kitchen walls.

“Imagine your grief when I kill him in front of you. Imagine what it will taste like.”

Goosebumps erupted over Tony’s skin, his heart tripping in fear at the very thought. The memory of ash on his hands, of Peter begging filled his mind and he choked on his next breath. Peter’s grin widened, something feral and foreign.

“Why,” Tony gasped, “Why would you kill him? Don’t you need him?”

“For now,” Peter agreed, casually stepping over the mess on the floor, closer to Tony. “But I’m afraid he’s wearing a bit thin. I’ve almost used him all up.”

Tony’s knees went weak.

“He’s almost too exhausted to fight me, now. Still won’t shut up, though,” he hissed, closing his eyes for a second as if hearing a very loud, unpleasant noise.

“What?” Tony asked, his head spinning. He sat down heavily on the stair behind him. Peter tilted his head, humming.

“You should hear how much he’s screaming.”

“He’s—” Forget throwing up, Tony was going to pass out. “—he’s screaming?”

Peter came closer, a predator stalking his prey. Tony knew he should pull himself together, knew that the thing enjoyed his distress, his pain, but he couldn’t fight the image of Peter, locked inside his own mind, screaming at the parasite controlling him.

“Oh, yes,” Peter murmured, his voice low. “’Not him, please,’ he’s saying. ‘Don’t hurt him, don’t you dare.’ He likes to threaten me. Not very intimidating, but I do admire his creativity.”

“Stop,” Tony whispered.

Peter reached a hand out and seized Tony’s chin, gripping with bruising fingers. Tony stared at him, hatred and love in every cell of his being. He could never hate Peter. He could never forget the way Peter’s face looked as an alien stared down at him, intent on nothing but destroying everything he loved.

“’Please, I’ll do anything,’” the creature continued to narrate. “’I’ll stop fighting. I’ll stop. Don’t kill him.’”

“Peter, no!”

The thing went silent, as if listening to something Tony couldn’t hear. Then he straightened, smiling down at Tony.

“What’s he saying?” Tony asked. “Peter?”

Peter considered him for a moment, glanced around at the cabin around him. “I think we’re done here.”

“What? No,” Tony argued. Peter ignored him, turning and disappearing out the door in the blink of an eye. Mind still trying to catch up, Tony rushed to the door, looking out at the trees and lake. There was no sign of him.

#my writing #I guess #sorry guys I really wish I could have finished all those stories I had planned #but I just really really do not see that happening