#all of my dead on main enemies to friends to lovers dreams will be coming true | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glossdebut · 23 days ago

Text

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 01

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: recreational drinking, yoongi is an asshole (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.1k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: NEW ERA NEW ERA NEW ERA! whew!!! i’m excited for this one! this is going to be a loooong ride, so buckle up and enjoy! please note the slow burn tag on this one, because i’m not joking around with it. trust me, it’s going to hurt me just as much as it hurts you.

a HUGE thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for continuing to beta read for me <3 your commentary never fails to make me laugh and your edits save my life.

P.S. everything i know about the korean music industry is informed by my years as a kpop fan. i don’t know much about the rock scene there, so expect inaccuracies galore going forward. i do my due diligence where i can, but that can only help so much.

CH. 01: ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE VAMPIRES!

You aren’t entirely sure when you stopped feeling at home in places like this. There has to be some kind of defining event, some kind of indicator of The Before and The After, but every time you try and figure it out you come up short.

In The Before, not all that long ago, you would be scrounging for the bus fare rattling around in your pockets to get to a place like this as soon as you punched out from your shift at the Speedy Mart.

During your short stint in college, your friends didn’t understand your obsession. Music venues, to them, were fun for a weekend’s night out. The thrill of flashing a fake ID, of flirting with the musicians after their set, of getting said musicians to buy them drinks—it was a satisfying rebellion, a fun story to tell people at school and hide from their parents.

But you were there every day, even after classes and graveyard shifts under fluorescent lights, always racing to the nearest show without even changing out of your polo. It was never a rebellion to you. The lights, the thumping bass, the secondhand smoke—it made every nerve ending in your body light up.

You were born in this smoke, as far as you’re concerned.

Maybe it’s different now because it’s work to be here. But what isn’t work, these days? Your life is micromanaged down to the minutiae—the meals you eat, the products you use in your hair, your goddamn piss breaks. There’s no clocking out for you, no gasp of relief that comes after. Such is life for one of Seoul’s many playthings.

Even in the dead of winter, your stylist, Hyerin, has you in a dress that begs to be pulled down every five minutes like clockwork.

You learned a long time ago to bite your tongue on matters like this. The brands you work for pay you for the exposure you give them, after all. The chill that settles in your bones from the ten steps you take from your paid car to the venue door will be well worth it next time you count the zeroes in your bank account. At least, that’s what Hyerin told you as she pushed you out of the car and into the cold.

Wasteland looks the same as it did the very first night you ever stepped foot inside. Same red, glowing guitar sign above the entrance. Same shitty overpriced drinks. Same sticky floors. It’s nice that some things never change even when you do.

You’ve never been on the balcony, though. You’ve gotta hand it to Jeongguk—he’s really pulling out all the stops. To your knowledge, the balcony is normally reserved for VIPs. Close friends and family of the band, other celebrities, lucky and well-connected fans. Significant others. You suppose you fall under more than one of those categories now.

The crowd gathered on this side of the stage buzzes incessantly around you, waiting for the set to start. The excitement is palpable, and you understand why. It’s the very last show of Burn The Stage’s very first world tour following the release of their third studio album, and they’re ending it here: in Seoul. At Wasteland no less, the venue that housed the show that got them signed in the first place. Of course people are excited.

If you were the same person you were in The Before, you would be, too.

Instead, as the stage lights go down and the crowd roars around you, you down the rest of your drink and pray it’ll do its job and calm your fidgeting. For a split second, the thought that maybe you shouldn’t be drunk tonight passes through your brain, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Your hopes of making a good first impression were squandered as soon as Hyerin zipped up your dress.

Besides, it’s not as if Jeongguk picked you for your shining reputation. More like the opposite.

With a flash of lights and a cacophony of sound, Burn The Stage launches into their first song on the setlist. The crowd roars around you, but you’re not here as a fan, so you try to remember everything Jeongguk taught you in preparation for tonight.

If you weren’t already close, most everything there is to learn about Jeon Jeongguk himself could easily be found with a simple Naver search.

Not only is Jeongguk the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist of Burn The Stage, but he’s also the de facto face of the band, and he couldn’t be better suited for the job. He’s beautiful. Like, seriously beautiful. Well-built and knows it, sings songs about love and sex and anger with the sweetest voice known to man, covered in tattoos and piercings that eommas everywhere pretend to disapprove of when they’re actually ogling just as much as their daughters. He’s a teenage girl’s wet dream, and with that comes hordes of them using the deductive skills of the NIS to figure out the last time he took a shit. Very little in his life is a secret, whether he likes it or not.

The rest of the band, in turn, gets the luxury of a little bit of mystery.

Park Jimin, the drummer, and Kim Taehyung, the bassist. Jeongguk’s best friends in the world. You’ve met them both in passing before, at industry events here and there, and they both seemed nice enough.

Jimin has a bit of a reputation for being temperamental, angry, but the way Jeongguk describes him paints him as something gentle. Childhood friends who’ve known each other since scraped knees and runny noses.

It’s public knowledge that Jimin wanted to be a dancer, before this—that when he was in college, he suffered an injury that ended his dancing career before it even started. One moment he was one of the most promising ballet students in Seoul, and the next he was retired at nineteen. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but every time the band is interviewed the question is inevitably asked. Do you have any regrets? You’ve watched the videos, seen the way he shakes with anger even as he answers with a saccharine smile. You have a feeling getting along with Jimin won’t pose any challenges for you. You know a thing or two about regrets.

Taehyung is a bit harder to figure out, but not in any way that sparks concern. He’s just an interesting guy that way.

He was the last to join the band, the first to answer a ‘BASS PLAYER NEEDED’ ad posted around the city. Apparently, he was so good that they didn’t feel the need to call anyone else.

He lives in his own world, does his own thing. Posts very artistic photo dumps on his Instagram with concerningly cryptic captions. He’s quiet when he’s around people he doesn’t know, but when he’s put in a room with Jimin and Jeongguk he becomes the loudest person there. He’s kind, caring, always seems to know the right thing to say even if it’s delivered in the strangest manner possible.

Jimin and Taehyung won’t cause any problems for you. Jeongguk assured you that they’d be easy to win over, that as long as Jeongguk likes you, you’re in with them.

The real wild card is the guitarist. Min Yoongi.

According to Jeongguk, Burn The Stage wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for Yoongi. When the band formed, they were just dumb kids with a shared dream, but Yoongi was the one to set it all in motion.

When they didn’t have anywhere to practice, Yoongi convinced the ajumma he worked for to let him cram as much equipment as he could fit into a tiny noraebang room. When venues wouldn’t book them without the guarantee that they would draw a crowd, Yoongi burned hundreds of CDs and stood on the streets of Hongdae begging people to listen. When shady entertainment companies started offering them laughable contracts, Yoongi found Namjoon and somehow convinced him to manage them for dirt cheap. When they finally got an offer worth taking, Yoongi made them mull it over for as long as they possibly could. Weigh the pros and cons and decide if it was what they really wanted.

If Jeongguk is the face of the band, Yoongi is the heart. Unfortunately for you, this particular heart is very well-guarded.

Yoongi takes his privacy seriously. He refuses to answer interview questions he deems too personal, he doesn’t use social media. When asked why, his answer is always that he wants the music to speak for him.

Because that’s another thing: every single song that Burn The Stage has ever released has been penned by Yoongi. To his credit, it’s kind of what they’re known for. His lyrics have a raw honesty to them that’s gotten the band into trouble more than once.

You finally tune into the show that’s unfolded below you, the words spilling from Jeongguk’s lips loud and clear in your ears now that you’re paying attention.

Well, I ain't got no dollar signs in my eyes That might be a surprise but it's true Said, "I'm not like you and I don't want your advice Or your praise or to move in the ways you do and I never will" 'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail

It’s rock music. It’s polarizing, controversial, edgy. Biting the hand that feeds them—especially in the eyes of the executives lining the band’s pockets, you’re sure. And yet everyone eats it up.

Still, Yoongi wouldn’t get away with half of it if he wasn’t attractive, you’re sure of it.

Because he is. Attractive. They all are, and he’s no exception. He checks all of the boxes annoyingly well. The long hair, the signature smirk, the little silver barbell on a tongue that he seems all too happy to flash at a moment’s notice. Too bad he seems like one of those pretentious, tortured artist types that take themselves way too seriously. That’s never done it for you.

Jeongguk is the one singing Yoongi’s words, and he might as well be Korea’s sweetheart—if it weren’t for all the tattoos. He conveys the message of Yoongi’s songs exactly as intended, but he doesn’t have to act like an egotistical gatekeeper to do it.

Maybe it’s a preference on your part. You’ve always had a thing for sweetness.

★ ★ ★

After the concert, you’re ushered off of the balcony by one of the band’s security guards. It’s the same guy who escorted you up when you arrived, and you note to yourself that he’s very polite. Eunwoo, according to his nametag.

It tracks, given Burn The Stage’s reputation for making sure the women at their concerts feel comfortable in the crowd. You’ve heard stories about them stopping mid-song to have handsy men kicked out, and it’s nice to know their commitment extends to the people they employ for themselves.

Eunwoo offers you his hand palm-up as you descend down the balcony stairs, and you take it with a grateful smile. You’re feeling wobbly in these shoes, and the drinks you’ve downed since your arrival aren’t helping matters. Even with the assistance, you still feel like a baby giraffe as you step down, but thanks to Eunwoo, you don’t eat shit.

Eunwoo dutifully guides you backstage, to a grimy, graffitied hallway housing the dressing rooms for Wasteland’s talent of the night. Jeongguk waits outside of one of them, guzzling down a bottle of water as a female staff member dabs sweat off of his forehead with a pristine white towel. She’s only there for a moment before slipping back through the dressing room door. Finally noticing your approach, Jeongguk turns his head and grins at you, and you feel your nerves ebb away instantly. He’s good at that.

As you get closer to Jeongguk, you turn to smile and nod at Eunwoo in thanks. He smiles back politely, wordlessly falling back to give you some privacy.

“Daaaamn, YN-ah,” Jeongguk says, whistling lowly as you reach him. “You’re going to cause a bloodbath in there.” He nods his head towards the dressing room door, and you roll your eyes despite the heat building in your cheeks.

“I know, I know,” you say, smoothing your hands over your dress. “It’s not exactly a meet-the-family outfit, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You look hot,” he says, grabbing your hand and making you do a spin, forcing a surprised laugh out of you as you try not to trip over yourself. Jeongguk keeps you steady, though, with a hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, although you’re sure your face gives away how terrified you are of what awaits you on the other side of the door. “Maybe you should’ve picked an actress for this, though.”

“I trust you,” he says softly, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s not too late to back out, though. I’ll understand…”

You believe him, of course. Those doe eyes don’t lie, and even so, he’s already told you over and over how bad he feels for asking this of you. But you don’t want to back out. Jeongguk has given you so much since you’ve met—it’s only right to try and repay him for it.

“I want to do this,” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand on your shoulder. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to pull it off.”

“You will,” Jeongguk says, smiling down at you warmly. “Don’t sweat it too much, okay? We’ve got this. It’s not like I have to pretend to like you.”

Right. You wish Jeongguk’s words did what they were meant to and instilled some kind of confidence in you, but what they actually do is make your chest ache uncomfortably. Pull yourself together, you think. Now’s not the time.

You smile good-naturedly, hoping Jeongguk doesn’t notice the way it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” you mumble.

“That’s the spirit!” he laughs, sliding the hand on your shoulder around to the other one so his arm is slung around you. You hate the way your heart flutters, despite the fact that you’d prepared for this. Dumb bitch.

Jeongguk cracks the dressing room door open just enough to ensure that all of the men inside are decent, and then he’s guiding you inside, your hands flying down to smooth your dress over again, just in case.

The dressing room is bustling with more people than you expected, people you recognize from the balcony and staff alike. There’s a fast-paced rock song playing over a bluetooth speaker, almost loud enough to drown out the chatter.

Everyone seems to be in celebration mode after the last show of the tour. There’s a large sheet cake on a cart in the middle of the room emblazoned with the band members’ faces in frosting, plastic champagne flutes littered around the room in varying states of fullness. Judging by the bottle in his hand and the way staff members wipe at his face fussily, it seems like Taehyung took the liberty of pouring champagne over his head to cool off.

You’re used to having lots of eyes on you—it comes with the job—but something about the way Jeongguk’s bandmates immediately stop what they’re doing and take notice of your presence startles you, puts you on edge.

“Jeonggukie! You missed the cake,” Jimin calls, standing up from where he sat on the couch. He holds out a slice of the sheet cake to Jeongguk, tilting his head at you as he approaches. “Where do I know you from?”

Jeongguk removes his arm from your shoulders to take the plate, snorting at the image of his decapitated cake-head staring up at him. “Hyungs,” he says, grabbing a plastic fork and digging into the slice. “This is YLN YN.”

“Oh, we’ve met before! The model, right?” Taehyung pipes up from where he’s still being wiped down, and you nod politely. “I saw your Innisfree campaign last month. I couldn’t remember whether your skin was really that nice in person.”

You watch as he extricates himself from the staff, ignoring their protests as he walks away from them.

Taehyung gets close to you, close enough to inspect your pores like he clearly intends to, and you fight the urge to instantly recoil. Jeongguk seems too busy stuffing his face with cake to interfere, and you want to make a good first impression. So much for your personal bubble.

“It is,” he says, nodding sagely to himself.

“Th-thank you?” you stammer. Beside you, Jeongguk finally tunes back in.

“Jeez, hyung,” he says around a mouthful of cake. He chews for a moment, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Let her breathe.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says sheepishly, backing out of your personal space, and you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, shaking your head.

“It’s fine,” you say, mustering a polite smile.

You note that despite his initial (albeit subtle) acknowledgement of your existence when you walked in the door, Yoongi now seems entirely disinterested in interacting with you. He hasn’t moved from where he’s planted on the couch, focused intently on strumming his guitar. How he can even hear what he’s playing over the noise is beyond you. It’s not even plugged into an amp.

You’d be a little annoyed that he hasn’t even bothered to greet you, but you reason that he must be pretty worn out from all of the fanfare surrounding the show tonight. Introvert recognizes introvert. You try not to take it personally.

“Do you know Jeongguk-ah well?” Jimin asks, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes bounce between you and his bandmate. He seems to be putting the pieces together, so you glance at Jeongguk, wordlessly passing the question his way.

Thankfully, Jeongguk seems to get the hint. He tosses his plate in the nearest trash can before sliding over to you again, his arm slipping around your waist easily, betraying nothing.

“Hyungs,” he starts, glancing at you and nodding once. Let the show begin. “YN-ah is actually, um… my girlfriend.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi sit up. That got his attention, it seems.

A hush falls over the room, even the eyes of the staff members within earshot widening in response to Jeongguk’s announcement. Oh shit, you think. Please let this go well.

“Since when?” Taehyung asks, curiosity piqued. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t seem upset by the new information. At least, not as far as you can tell.

“Well, um,” Jeongguk starts, tonguing nervously at his lip ring. He pulls you closer so you’re practically curled against his chest now, and you silently pray that the way you’re looking at him reads as sweet and not like you’re about to jump out of your skin. “It’s actually been a few months now… Since right before the tour, actually.”

“Right before the tour?” Jimin asks, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion. “So you’ve been doing long distance?”

Jeongguk glances at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it was bad timing on my part,” he says, his eyes fixed on yours. Damn. If he didn’t have such great pipes, you’d say he should’ve gone into acting. He’s male lead material. “I just couldn’t leave without telling her how I felt.”

You wish that you could do or say literally anything useful instead of just clinging to Jeongguk’s side like a barnacle. This is supposed to be a joint effort, but you feel frozen in place, unable to find your voice. It’s a good thing Jeongguk seems to be pulling it off all on his own.

“So cute,” Taehyung coos, bumping his shoulder against Jimin’s conspiratorially. “Our Jeonggukie’s all grown up and in love.”

“He’s always been a romantic,” Jimin joins in, miming at wiping fake tears as if he’s a proud parent. He reaches out and grabs your hands, startling you. “Please take care of him.”

“Hyuuuungs,” Jeongguk whines, tearing his arm away from you to whack Jimin and Taehyung on their heads simultaneously. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Doubtful,” Yoongi says from where he’s still seated on the couch. Oh, so he does speak. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all night. It’s low, raspier in person than in the videos you’ve seen online. His words are directed at Jeongguk, but when you turn your head to look at him you find that his gaze is fixed on you. Your pulse spikes at the discovery. “I don’t think anything could scare her away from you, Guk-ah.”

The words themselves are innocuous, even supportive, but something about the way he says them makes your gut twist. Nobody else seems put off by it, but you can tell something’s not right. You have to say something, to open your mouth and speak. You have to pull this off, for Jeongguk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, forcing a smile. You manage to tear your gaze away from Yoongi, looking back at Jeongguk. He’s grinning down at you, and it’s real, even if the pretense of it isn’t. Your smile becomes a little less forced in return.

★ ★ ★

Jimin and Taehyung are insistent that you stick around and celebrate for a while, so you do. You end up enjoying yourself, despite the weird moment with Yoongi.

Jimin and Taehyung are fun to be around, just like Jeongguk said they would be, although conversation between the three of them becomes a little hard for you to follow sometimes. They just talk so fast.

They ask you questions about your job, your friends, your family. They also tease Jeongguk relentlessly in front of you and seem all too thrilled to find out that you’re their noona. You find it surprising how easily you open up to them, but it just… happens. Just like it did with Jeongguk when you first met.

You relax enough to convince yourself that your perceived pointed nature of Yoongi’s words earlier was all in your head. Surely, he couldn’t have a problem with you when he doesn’t even know you. Jeongguk told you himself that Yoongi’s a quiet guy. Maybe that was his own way of telling you he approves of you. He hasn’t said or done anything since to make you think otherwise. Granted, he hasn’t said or done anything, period.

Once he arrives, you meet Namjoon, Burn The Stage’s manager. Jeongguk told you a little bit about him, but it was mostly just thinly-veiled thirsting. Now you see why.

He clarifies right off the bat that he already knows who you are, which saves you the anxiety of having to go through the whole routine again, and then he apologizes for being late.

“I was talking to reporters. I wanted the guys to be able to celebrate without having to do any interviews,” he explains as he shakes your hand with a dimpled smile. Damn. Yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk one bit.

After a while, the champagne catches up with you and you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The staff member that was dabbing Jeongguk’s sweat earlier—Minji, you learn—directs you out of the dressing room and to the nearest women’s bathroom further down the hallway.

You try to make it as quick as possible, much tipsier than you thought and all the more unstable in these shoes because of it. After one last check of your hair and makeup in the mirror, you make your exit, focusing down at your feet as you go.

Unfortunately, you run headfirst into someone’s chest in the process. Hands come up to grab your elbows, steadying you before you fall flat on your face. For a second, you think maybe Minji had been waiting to escort you back to the dressing room, but these are not a woman’s hands holding you up. Wait a second, you think. You definitely saw these ring-clad fingers displayed on a huge screen earlier. Strumming at a guitar, perhaps?

In a moment of amazing mental clarity on your part considering the state you’re in, you realize that these are Min Yoongi’s hands, and your head snaps up to look up at him.

“Yoongi-ssi! I’m so sorry!” You quickly right yourself to the best of your ability, pressing your hand to the wall next to you for support.

Once he’s sure you can hold yourself up without his help, Yoongi instantly retracts his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should’ve been looking where I was going,” you add, doing your best to bow in apology without losing your balance again.

Yoongi tilts his head at you as if he’s assessing you, his gaze inscrutable. Man, for a lyricist this guy isn’t big on words. You’re just about to politely say goodbye and head back to the dressing room when he finally speaks.

“I’ve spent the past hour trying to figure out what your angle could possibly be, but I’m coming up short.”

Um. What?

“Huh?” you manage, blinking at Yoongi like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

“It’s not like your career’s in any trouble. Nobody thinks you're Korea’s angel or anything, but your shit reputation hasn’t stopped you from getting brand deals,” Yoongi continues, scoffing to himself. “Are you just bored? Is this what you do to amuse yourself?”

Uh oh. He knows. He knows for sure, and even worse, he thinks that you’re the mastermind.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, forcing your voice to remain level. You don’t even try to defend your reputation. It’s not like he’s wrong.

“Right,” Yoongi says, leaning in a little closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Well, a word of advice. If you want people to buy that you’re really in love with Jeongguk, you could try to look less like you’re going to throw up when he touches you.”

FUCK. You thought you pulled it off. You thought you pulled it off, and now here’s Jeongguk’s goddamn hero telling you point-blank that you didn’t. You wrack your brain trying to think of anything you could possibly say to defend yourself, to get this guy off your ass, because this cannot be your fault. You’d never forgive yourself.

“I—”

“Or,” Yoongi starts, cutting you off. “You could just cut the bullshit and leave Jeongguk alone.” He pauses, rubbing his chin as if he’s pretending to think about it and then nodding once. “Yeah, let’s go with that one.”

Jesus Christ he’s a piece of work. You feel your fists clench at your sides, your nails digging painfully into your palms. You just got your nails done, and there’s a strong possibility you’ll draw blood, but it’s all you can do not to strangle this asshole right here and leave Burn The Stage without a guitarist.

“Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your words dripping with fake politeness. Fuck this guy, actually. “I don’t know what I’ve done to give you such a bad impression of me, but I assure you that Jeongguk and I are very much in love.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t buy it?” Yoongi asks, voice tinged with impatience. “You may have everyone else in that room fooled, but not me, and if you hurt Jeongguk I can guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap. “Again, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to make you think so poorly of me, but I meant what I said in there. I’m not going anywhere.”

You need to remove yourself from this interaction right now before you do something stupid like burst into tears. You take the opportunity to push past Yoongi before he gets a chance to say anything else, making sure to essentially shoulder check him in the process because again, fuck this guy.

You stalk down the hallway, feeling much more sober now. It’s as if all of the alcohol got forcibly drained from your system in the face of total fucking disaster, and you’re honestly thankful for it, because the last thing you need is this asshole seeing you actually fall.

For a moment, you’re fooled into thinking you’d successfully ended the conversation, but of course he needs the last word.

“I know more about you than you think, dollface.”

Dollface? The fuck?

You chance a glance behind you and you immediately regret it. Yoongi leans against the wall where you left him, an amused smirk spread over his face, and the sight immediately fills you with dread, a type of primal panic you haven’t felt in four years flooding your senses.

He doesn’t… He couldn’t know about that. There’s no possible way. Jeongguk doesn’t even know about that. Nobody does, because you’ve done everything in your meager power to keep it that way.

You whip your head back around to face front, your heels clacking on the crusty linoleum beneath them as you continue down the hallway. Don’t look back, you think. He doesn’t know.

You’re thankful that you brought your bag with you to the bathroom, because you’re very much not in the mood for a party now. Once you’re safely outside, you call your car and send a text to Jeongguk explaining your sudden escape. You felt sick, you tell him.

It’s not like it’s a lie.

Yoongi loves being on stage.

Over the past few years, there’s been a noticeable change in his demeanor. He’s become passive, apathetic to the normal day-to-day that comes with being a celebrity. Nothing really wows him anymore.

He remembers the way he reacted to the accommodations the band received when they first got signed. He was way too scared to ask for things at first, but the label gave it all to him anyway.

For instance, Yoongi’s always been particular about his stationery. The first time he filled a notebook after getting signed, he didn’t even think to consider it a company expense. Why would he? He was fully capable of buying his own shit, even if he had to save up for it. Sure, every time he had to write a lyric down on the back of a receipt his eye would twitch, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.

But the label guys noticed. Before he even had a chance to buy his next batch of notebooks and pens, he was sat down in a spacious meeting room and asked point-blank what he needed. When Yoongi gave them specifics—Leuchtturm 1917 unlined hardcover pocket journals and a fuckton of Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pens—they didn’t even bat an eye. When he—rightfully—warned them that he might strangle someone if he’s handed a gel pen instead of a ballpoint, they just assured him that wouldn’t happen.

Ever since then, there’s been an endless supply of exactly what he needs, always within reach. He’s still grateful for that, of course, because he goes through those fuckers fast. But it’s just a fact of his life now. It’s not special to get his fucking Leuchtturms anymore, not when he could douse his entire supply with gasoline and burn it on a whim and still have a fresh one in his hand within mere minutes.

And it’s not just journals and pens.

Namjoon is the band’s representative. Yoongi picked him personally long before there was any contract, or even hope for one, and if everything were to go to shit tomorrow, Namjoon would still be there. But after the single from their second album charted on the Billboard Hot 100, a label-equivalent to Namjoon was hired, as if anybody could ever be equivalent to Namjoon. Park Hyunseok. Park Hyunseok, whose sole duty is to buzz around Yoongi and his bandmates like a pesky fly and “make sure they’re happy.” They quite literally want for nothing.

Yoongi remembers when his skin used to buzz with the emotions simmering just under the surface. He was fiery in his youth, pissed off and ready to prove a point. He felt everything strongly, fully.

Not so much these days. Anger is only marketable for so long, or so he’s been told.

For the past year, Yoongi’s felt numb to the world. And he’s dealt with it, of course. That’s what he does. The album did great, the tour sold out, the boys are happy. That’s really all that matters. He just doesn’t know how he’s going to write another fucking album if he’s got nothing to write about anymore.

Still, he loves being on stage. There’s nothing like it. It never gets old, never gets boring. He still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling of stepping onstage and feeling a crowd scream his name, scream his lyrics right back at him. Lyrics to songs that he wrote in his shoebox apartment when he was eighteen and it felt like nobody gave a fuck about him. Funny how things change.

Nobody can take that feeling away from him, even if they’ve taken all the other ones.

It’s been a good night. It feels good to be back in Seoul after being away for months, feels even better to be on this particular stage again. Yoongi always feels keyed up after a good show, itching to do something with all of the energy thrumming through his body, and tonight is no different. He’s almost giddy with the opportunity to celebrate this tour with his bandmates and Namjoon and then go home and crash. Home. Fuck, it’s a good night. He has a hot date with his king size bed.

But then you.

It’s been years since you’ve even been a thought in Yoongi’s brain, and he liked it that way. Unfortunately, it’s apparently true what they say: all good things must come to an end.

Yoongi sees right through you. He's met so many of your type in his life that even if he hadn’t met you before he would’ve been able to sniff you out the second you walked backstage. Users. Social climbers. The bored and braindead looking for their next toy. The exact kind of person he’s been trying to protect Jeongguk from this whole time, and now you’re on his arm.

And whatever, a hookup is one thing. Yoongi frankly doesn’t give a fuck where Jeongguk decides to stick his dick. The less he knows the better on that front. But a relationship? No, it isn’t real. Yoongi knows that much. Maybe it is for Jeongguk, but not for you. He's never even heard Jeongguk, hopeless romantic extraordinaire, talk about you.

Jeongguk introduces you as his girlfriend, and suddenly it’s like Yoongi’s watching a car crash in slow motion. He prays that he’s not alone, that Jimin and Taehyung have caught on to your piss-poor acting skills—seriously, you look like you’re about to pass out—but it looks like Yoongi’s entirely alone on this one. You have them wrapped around your little finger with minimal effort. He has a feeling that comes as naturally to you as breathing.

Of course, Yoongi has the added displeasure of having met you before, way back when. When you had the chance to be somebody, before you pissed it away, to what? To pout in front of a camera for a living? He thought he’d run out of ways to be wrong about you four years ago, but clearly you just can’t help yourself.

And of course you don’t remember him. Why would you?

Yoongi knows Jeongguk better than anybody. He also knows that thing people say about teenagers is true. If you tell them not to do something, they’ll only want to do it more. Jeongguk may be a grown man now, but he’s stubborn as fuck, and he never grew out of that. If he goes to Jeongguk and flat-out tells him that his girlfriend is a piece of human garbage, Jeongguk will only date her harder.

He tries to control the infection at the source by confronting you directly, but it’s clear the fire that he thought you lacked is, in fact, there, if only to piss Yoongi off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

Okay.

If that’s how you want to play, Yoongi can fucking play. He’s going to make you wish you’d left Jeongguk alone when he gave you the chance.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

✧ TAGLIST: @jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

642 notes · View notes

willowpains · 1 month ago

Text

introducing…

latina actress reader!

mexican to be exact, born and raised. sings and dances, but has decided to focus all her efforts into acting and breaking through Hollywood, fighting closed doors due to her nationality, always with a good attitude and ready to work her ass off to achieve her dreams to be the next it girl and big thing around the world.

she’s…

big hearted. soft. sensitive. hardworking. multilingual. singer. dancer. warm. family girl. fangirl. super friendly. the one that makes everyone feel included. a listener and big yapper around the people she trusts. a bit shy at first. loves a good party. cinephile. tequila lover.

loves…

going out with her friends and fellow costars. traveling back home whenever she can. the beach. taking photos of everyone and everything. speaking spanish in front of people that don’t understand. doing karaoke. her dog. reggaeton. doing tiktok dances. reading romance and fantasy. going to the movies at night. posting photo dumps on instagram. doing pranks. her mexican food. makeup. her alone time.

can’t stand…

horror movies. people that don’t love animals. over bearing and noisy paparazzi and press. liars. smoking and cigarettes. loud chewing. small spaces. rats. not wearing perfume. losing her favorite lip gloss. online spoilers. missing out on stuff. people talking on the movie theater.

wikipedia…

-her first big role outside of her country was as a pogue, with a trope of slow burn enemies to lovers with Drew Starkey’s character, and member of the main friend group in the highly acclaimed Netflix series Outer Banks, still ongoing now with a just released season 4.

-she was casted and is part of the wrapped up and upcoming movie: Wake Up Dead Man, sequel to the famous murder mystery movie Knives Out.

-uploads covers and snippets of originals songs on her YouTube channel, as well as see social media accounts such as TikTok and Instagram.

-had a big role besides actor Jacob Elordi in last years hit project Saltburn, making it one of her biggest movies in her repertoire to this day.

-she was seen attending a Niall Horan concert previously in the year, and was brought up on stage by the artist to sing a duet, as she claimed one of her favorite songs, “You could start a cult” during the show.

-she is rumored to take part in the role of Susan Pevensie in upcoming Narnia Series directed by Greta Gerwig, nothing has been confirmed yet but both the actress and the director have been hinting at it in different interviews and events.

loading more…🎥🎞️🎬🍿

***

I am so freaking excited about this concept that I came up with! I had been wanting to continue writing for drew and this idea just landed on my lap didn’t it? *wink wink*

I have so many plans for this universe with mexican/latina actress reader, from moodboards, blurbs, headcanons, specific scenarios, sooooo so much! if you have any questions, things you wanna request or know about reader please feel free to ask or let me know, you’ll be feeding into my motivation to write more about her and drew and the rest of the obx cast<3

credits and inspiration to all the writers out here that come up with these concepts of ___ reader! if ate up most of them and I think they’re creative and amazing af

about time my writer personality came back, and as always, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any grammar or writing errors there may be!

stay tuned👀

200 notes · View notes

readerstories · 2 months ago

Text

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 2/?

This story is constantly on my mind these days. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn

Wordcount: 2555

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

After running after Red and failing to catch up, you make some improvised bandages out of some dead guy’s shirt, which you do apologize to him for, it was a nice shirt, not that he can answer you. Maybe there was a med-kit somewhere, but you do not want to start wandering aimlessly around a big warehouse. The cuts on your arms, leg, and face are shallow, but the ones on your stomach and chest will need stitches.

You steal more clothes from some more dead guys, your pants being the only kind of salvageable garment, but it looks better to have pants that don't have a hole in them with three bleeding cuts underneath. You bundle up your ruined clothes, and take them out with you, not a great idea to leave more of yourself behind. There is of course some of your blood on the floor, but you are sure it’s all mixed up with everyone else's, so that won’t matter.

Though all the cars tires are slashed, you are lucky that your ‘boss’ and his rival had a certain ‘style’ they followed, so all of the cars are the same, or similar enough that they use the same wheels. So after a lot of swearing and sweating and bleeding, you can drive one car out, all spare tires. It’s not the best thing, since the movement of switching out the tires pulls at your wounds, but the only other option would have been to walk to a main road and then hitchhike, which would have been a disaster. The fabric making up your bandages has to be switched out after you are done, and you try to pretend it doesn’t worry you about how much blood you’ve lost, and how you are feeling a little woozy as you sit yourself down into the driver's seat.

Also on top of it all you have a headache building, filled with anger, frustration, panic, sadness, and confusion. You are sure the anger is yours, not too sure about everything else though, as your soulmate’s feelings have been mixing in with yours. Sometimes they seem separate, other times they mix so thoroughly that it’s just a mess. You rub your forehead, willing it all away.

It doesn’t work, at all, not that you really thought it would, but a guy can dream.

For now though, you have other things to concentrate on. Such as calling your vet friend Evelyn so you can come to her clinic, and she can stitch you up so you won’t bleed out before seeing your soulmate Red again.

This whole soulmate thing is something you’ve never wanted, but you want to at least talk to him, and agree that the bond is strictly going to be platonic, or rather the closest thing to actual non-existence. Something that you both can learn to ignore and mentally suppress, leaving each other alone until whoever shuffles off this mortal coil firsts severs the connection.

You swear to yourself, hitting the steering wheel a few times, before picking up your phone and dialing Evelyn.

—-------

Ditching your ride is easy enough, you park it a few blocks away from your Evelyn's clinic, and leave the doors unlocked. It will be gone by morning.

Your feet don't feel the steadiest, but if anyone were to look at you, you would just look like another drunk stumbling home from the bar. Seeing the lit sign with the little smiling dog that marks the right place, you slink into the alleyway next to the building. Your fist on the metal door on the side of the building is heavy. Lucky for you, you don’t have to wait long until Evelyn opens it. She’s frowning, but waves you in none the less, waiting to comment until she locks the door behind you.

“Thought you said at my birthday party you were going to slow down with these kinds of visits.”

“Yeah, but you know, unexpected things happen.” You follow her down the hallway, a familiar route as she leads you into a room where they normally operate on pets, and certainly not humans (other than you).

“At least you are alive. How’s the other guy?” She pats the metal table, before starting to find equipment, some meant for animals, other stuff stashed away from earlier visits.

“I killed him.” You say as you move to sit at the table. You conveniently leave out the part where he got back up and the whole mess that followed, but at least what you say is true.

“What am I working with?” Evelyn has her back turned to you as she asks, but turns around to look at you, observing your clothes that are this time in one piece.

“Chest and stomach, one cut to each, about 8-10 inches, deep.” She winces as you pull your shirt off, revealing the blood-soaked makeshift bandages. “Some others, but they just need a clean-up and something to cover them later.” The bandages come off, you bite your lip not to hiss in pain, not that it really matters as Evelyn has heard and seen a lot.

“Nasty. Lay back.” You drop your shirt and the bloody rags that can hardly be called bandages on the end of the table, knowing she will complain about having to clean the floor if you dropped them there.

“Ay ay, mam’.” You swing your legs up on the table and lay down, Evelyn just rolls her eyes at you.

“Don’t call me that, I’m not my mother.”

“Ay ay, sir, then?” You joke, but clench your jaw as she pokes at the edge of your chest wound.

“Good thing the money is good and my wife loves your brownies, or else I might kick you out for that.”

“Tell your wife I’m flattered, but I am very gay.” And have a soulmate, but you leave out that part.

“And so are we.” She grabs a leash from a drawer, holding it in front of your mouth. “Bite down, chipping a tooth will not charm anyone.” You take it, teeth closing around the fabric as Evelyn starts on the wound on your stomach.

You are going to fucking kill Red again.

Soulmate bond be damned.

—----

After Evelyn patches you up, she orders you home to rest, which to be fair, you do.

For a day.

While looking up a little more about soulmates on your phone.

It’s not like you know nothing, but not wanting one had led you to tune out when people were talking about it, so you know little outside the basics of touch triggering it. It hadn’t seemed useful at the time, because why in the fuck would you need to know about something that was never going to happen to you? Now that you are in it though, you skim through articles about it, because even though you need to know at least a little more, you don’t need to know too many details.

Though some are useful to know. Like the fact that if soulmates are kept away from each other for too long, it will give negative side effects, both physical and mental. The mental you had kinda guessed, but the physical was new.

Headaches, irritable mood, nausea, and aching joints.

Not fun.

Jesus fucking christ.

At least your brief reading makes it seem like it doesn’t take that much to keep it in check, just some touches here and there, and time spent together. You grimace, it could have been worse you suppose, but if you have to shake Red’s hand a few times a year, and stay in a room with him for a few hours to keep your life somewhat normal otherwise, you suppose you can manage.

As much as you don’t want to.

Even as much as all you want is to forget it ever happened and leave the man alone.

If you hadn’t touched him back, he wouldn’t have even known, but you suspect if you hadn’t touched him, he would have killed you then.

Like you had him.

But in your defense, you hadn’t known, and he got back up.

So maybe you are just a little messed up, and not a lot.

After reading some more, you find out that lucky for you, soulmates can use their bond, when it’s established, to pull themselves towards their soulmate. Though the article mentioned it’s something most people only do after their bond has been strengthened and developed over time.

You ignore that last part.

At least the article helps you visualize in your head how your feelings look like in your head. Yours are a river of color, his feelings are a tributary river that flows into yours, with another river of your feelings flowing out towards the ether, or rather, him.

Closing your eyes, you concentrate on your bond to him, the river of feelings going towards him, and those being sent to you. The weak, but pretty constant stream of feelings coming from the other man now in your mind.

It’s hard to concentrate on, any time you open your eyes it slips into something intangible again, something that is just there, not something that leads you anywhere. So, like a fool, every so often you close your eyes while you still walk, letting your feelings guide your feet. You are certain you look stupid, walking with eyes closed and arms in front of you to make sure you don’t walk into anyone or anything.

It’s not like you keep your eyes closed for long, but it still makes you feel vulnerable.

The pull eventually leads you to an apartment building in a pretty average looking part of the city. You stand on the other side of the street for a while, to gauge how easy it will be to get in.

You can tell Red is inside the building, not moving, so you assume he’s in his apartment. You focus on his emotions, nothing sparks out, just a baseline with some spikes of happiness mixed in.

In the end, you conclude the easiest thing to do is to just wait until someone careless leaves the building, and slip in before the door can close behind them.

You lean on a wall near the front door, pretending to be engrossed in your phone as you wait.

It only takes 10 minutes for you to get your opportunity, slipping in silently and unnoticed. You take the stairs, here and there taking two steps at once, following the pull as well as you can with your eyes still open, until you find yourself in front of an apartment door where you can feel Red behind it.

Your soulmate.

You wonder what his name actually is.

You force yourself to knock, instead of just trying to open the door, just breaking in.

There’s shuffling of feet, and to your surprise, a black woman with a white afro and sunglasses opens the door.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Where’s Red?”

“Who?”

“Red suit, guns and katanas, black around the eyes, a mask that is surprisingly animated?” You feel yourself getting irritated by the silence that description is met with. You wonder how much of it your soulmate is picking up. His emotions are shifting, flowing into what feels like nervousness.

You hear what sounds an awful lot like a squeak and, finally, his voice again.

“Al, close the fucking door.”

“What the fuck have you done now?”

“Al, please!” You try to look past Al, seconds later the door is thrown shut in your face, the noise of the lock turning quickly following.

Okay, so fuck being polite.

One deep breath, and then you’re raising one leg up, and kicking the fucking door in. There’s a yelp from someone as the door swings open fast and bounces off the wall behind it. You get into the apartment in a few quick strides, ignoring Al that is cursing at you, something about getting ‘the damn bat’.

“Okay, that was unfairly hot.” You spot him a second after the words leave his mouth.

At least you’re fairly sure it’s him. He’s not wearing a red suit, instead he’s dressed in grey sweatpants, fuzzy pink slippers, and a red hoodie, but you recognize the bumpy skin that covers his face and hands. Which you can barely see because he is hiding behind another man where they stand in front of a dining room table. Red’s hands are on the shoulders of the man clad in flannel with rolled up sleeves and jeans that is scowling at you; his stance tense with his arms at his side.

You ignore Flannel in favor of looking at your soulmate, meeting his eyes over the shoulder of the other man.

“You are a fucking asshole Red.”

“Well done assessment there, Stab.”

“Stab?”

“Well you did almost stab me through the head before giving me your name, which, count yourself lucky cause I usually don’t put out if I don’t know what name to scream.”

“Wade, what-” Flannel starts, but you cut him off.

“Oh, so that’s your name.” You offer up your own name. “Which you would have learned if you hadn’t run away like a fucking pussy.” Wade gasps.

“Excuse you, pussies are fucking strong as shit, they can-”

“Both of you, shut the fuck up.” Flannel barks out, shifting both of your attentions to him. “What the fuck is this?” He shakes Wade’s hands off his shoulders, taking a few steps so he’s more in the middle of the two of you. Which is not much space really, the apartment is not big, but at least it gets a little bit less full as Al leaves out the broken door, purse under her arm and muttering something you can’t hear or care to.

“Wade and I need to fucking talk. About how he is a fucking coward for fucking running.”

“I am not, just made a tactical retreat from an enemy!” Wade protests.

“We are a little past that, soulmate.” You drip venom in the last word, Flannel goes stock still as Wade draws in a sharp breath. Panic is sent through your link, which for some reason makes you angry.

“Just fucking come here.” You start to stride over towards Wade, who is frozen now.

You don’t get past Flannel though, as he grabs you, spinning you quickly as he pins you against the dining room wall with a hand on your shoulder, metal glinting from between his knuckles as it extends and pushes against your throat, not breaking skin, but threatening to do so.

On instinct you grab at his bare forearm, trying to pull the knives or whatever the fuck those are away from your throat, but now it’s your turn to freeze, as for the second time in as many days, you feel the sizzle in your mind of a new link forming.

What.

In.

The.

FUCK.

You look up at Flannel, startled and with your mouth hanging open. He’s frowning, tilts his head and then, slowly, his hand shifts from your shoulder to touch your neck, the closest piece of bare skin.

His eyes dilate, then he licks his lips, and you know he just felt the same thing as you did.

“What the fuck.” All three of you say in unison.

(Part 3)

206 notes · View notes

dabisqueen · 2 years ago

Photo

College Touya x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: roughly 11K

⇢ plot: getting into one of the most prestigious universities comes with a (literally) huge surprise

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, lots of dialogue, bantering and bickering, use of alcohol, Keigo is being a spoiled rich brat so he's not getting any ass but Tenko is finally getting his d*** wet and Touya as well, a bit of yelling, some kabedon action, steamy kissing, dry-humping, unprotected consensual sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

⇢ personal note: this was just another AU I was dreaming about. First time writing this kind of trope. Thanks to @/dreamy-collective for being my beta!

***

Moving away from home and starting your first year at a university was a challenging act on its own. So it was given that you were busy trying to adapt to the new college life, learning the campus layout, and establishing a daily routine. In other words– beginning to experience life as a university student.

But not only that. The university you had managed to get into was one of the most prestigious ones in the country and with the priciness of its tuition, you were glad to have landed several scholarships that needed extra effort.

Therefore, starting classes not only meant trying to cope with the pretty busy schedule change but also putting in your highest effort to keep your grades among the best. So you barely spent time socializing with people in the tight-knit community of the college campus. And a week into the semester, you still hadn't made any real friends yet, except for your roommate.

Still, even though you didn't belong to the social circles on campus and you never cared for gossiping, certain rumors spread so far that even you heard them. About these three guys, all seniors belonging to the privileged elite of the university, stirring quite the fuss– especially the raven-haired and the blond one.

It was the second week and your roommate and you were approaching the main entrance to your college building, ready to go to classes. But you stopped dead in your tracks, an all too familiar sight ahead of you. For a moment you questioned reality, having not seen him in almost a decade.

"What's he doing here?" You asked, stunned.

Of all places in the country you had to meet him here. Life has its shitty ways of fucking with you.

"Who?" Your roommate asked, her gaze following yours to some guys standing across the yard by the wall, smoking.

Staring straight ahead, you would've recognized him anywhere– hands lazily stuffed in the pockets of his dark ripped jeans, the usual bored expression on his face. That all too familiar mop of raven hair with bangs falling over his brows, those broad shoulders—

—and those incredibly piercing blue eyes that just now flicked up to look at you.

Shit, you tried to calm yourself, No need to panic. He won't recognize you after all these years.

But that hope was thrown out the door as quickly as it arose when he aimed a wickedly seductive grin right at you, his strikingly blue eyes continuing to observe you.

Damn, he knows.

"Ok, we gotta go. Now!" You swung around and swiveled around your roommate who struggled to catch up with you. "We're gonna take the back entrance."

"Hey, what was that just now?" She breathlessly asked.

"Nothing." You grumbled, reluctant to get as much distance between you and those mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Oh, don't you dare nothing me!" She took a few wider steps to catch up with you. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You might be right about that," you muttered under your breath. "Let's go, we'll be late for classes."

***

A sound stirred you from your work assignment late at night. "You're not telling me something."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Looking up, you saw your roommate standing at the door of your bedroom.

She cocked an eyebrow, kicked off the door frame, and walked towards you.

"The raven-haired guy. This morning." She continued, "I saw him looking at you– and then you freaked out."

Oh no.

"It's Touya Todoroki." She stopped in front of you, placing her hands on her canted hips, "The hottest guy on campus, according to what I've heard."

"Don't know what you're talking about." You mumbled, the tips of your ears turning scarlet as you kept yourself busy counting the dust specs on the screen of your notebook.

"C'mon! I know you're hiding something," she sat down next to you, batting her pretty, long lashes at you. "You've got to tell me."

Inhaling deeply, you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to calm your tired and overworked nerves.

"Alright." You sighed. "But this stays between us ok?"

"Pinkie swear!" She beamed at you, offering her smallest finger and you locked it with yours.

"Touya and his buddies Tenko, and Keigo—we used to be childhood friends. We grew up together living in the same neighborhood." You pulled your hand back and tugged a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. "We also went to the same elementary school."

"Aw, that's so cool!" She giggled, urging you to continue.

"Yeah, really sweet–" you huffed and looked straight at her. "Did you know he calls me Cheeks?"

"No—but that's adorable!" She smiled.

"You know what it stands for?" Cocking a brow you waited.

She shook her head.

"Buttcheeks." You inhaled deeply before continuing. "In second grade, he pulled my pants down in front of everyone - even the teachers. I was the laughingstock of the entire school for weeks."

"Oh sorry," Your roommate was visibly afflicted. "That's not so adorable."

You continued, picking up a few pieces of lint off your pants. "A year later, my parents and I had to move away to another state. That's when I saw him last."

"Mhhh, maybe he was a jerk back then," she pointed out, "But did you ever think about him having changed?"

"Nope. People like him don't change." You added bitterly. "I need to focus on my studies now, ok?"

"Yeah, sure." She sighed.

And with that, you ended the conversation, your roommate straightening up to return to her room and leaving you to finish your essay.

***

As you were leaving your classroom, you stopped dead in your tracks seeing Touya with Keigo and Tenko, leaning his back against the building wall, observing you, hands buried deep in the pocket of his pants.

Touya just rocked the hottest-guy-on-campus look. Even though his frame was lean, he was well-toned, his body reeking of masculinity. He was wearing a plain black long-sleeve shirt, tight black pants, biker boots, and rings on his hand as well as piercings in his ear.

But it wasn't just his physique. His presence alone took up space and dominated like nothing else and you had to take a few moments to catch your breath. A few moments that were over too quickly when he started to strut over into your direction, his eyes strikingly light blue.

You instantly turned to make an escape, but at that same moment a door to a lecture room opened and a crowd of students poured out, crushing your plans to get away.

"Well well well, if it ain't Cheeks," an arm slung around your neck. "Of all places, I've never expected to run into you here."

The subtle scent of expensive cologne surrounded you and his own scent, warm and masculine at the same time. He smelled amazing, and it left a feeling in you that you couldn’t place your finger on.

Shit.

"Fuck off, Touya…" you mumbled, a bit of color rising to your face.

"Why so rude?" He chuckled and leaned in closer.

A group of students had stopped to watch the two of you talk, chattering behind raised hands.

"What are you doing here?" You tried to get away from him but his embrace was too tight.

"Could ask you the same." He hummed back with a curious grin on his face.

"I'm enrolled in classes, duh." You remarked, trying to keep your tone flat.

"Heh, I'm a Senior." His free hand came to pinch your cheek.

"Did your dad bribe the University Board to get you in?" You looked sideways at him, shamefully breathless at his close proximity.

His eyes seemed so captivating—more than they used to when he was a kid.

"Naah— got in here myself." He grinned, icy blue eyes flashing. "Excellent grades."

"Doubt it." You hissed at him.

"You're hurting my feelings, Cheeks." He gave you a light chuckle that you felt way too much in your chest.

Rolling your eyes at him, you finally managed to shrug his arm off as he loosened his hold on you—when you heard another voice closing in. "Hey, Touya, who's that Hottie here?"

It was Keigo, narrower and shorter in build than Touya, with windstrewn ash blond hair swept messily backward. He was blatantly showing off his wealth, wearing luxury label clothes, and sporting a huge Breitling aviator watch on his wrist.

"Don't you recognize her?" Touya glanced at him over his shoulder.

The blonde looked at you with a slight arch in his eyebrow. Then his golden eyes lit up in surprise. "Shit, it's Cheeks!"

"Damn, it is," Tenko muttered, who just joined the three of you. With the long tangled hair and the simple, black hoodie pulled over his head, he seemed more innocent than the other two, which was a welcoming change. The only thing giving him away was the rather geeky expensive Devon Star Wars watch at his wrist.

His cheeks reddened behind his pale bangs when your eyes met and he muttered a shy, "H-Hi Cheeks…" before averting his gaze, awkwardly scratching his nape with his fingers.

Keigo however, stepped even closer, his golden brown eyes mustering you as he leaned in, flirtatiously. "So—you got a boyfriend?"

"Nice move, but– no." You groaned. "Not interested in one as well."

Just as Keigo was about to say something Tenko interrupted, looking at his watch. "Guys, we need to go now if we wanna get to class in time."

"Yeah, we're coming." Touya looked at you with an amused glint in his azure eyes before turning to leave.

"See ya, Cheeks." He waved goodbye as they strolled off.

You couldn't help but follow him with your eyes, when suddenly Touya stopped to toss you a look over his shoulder, grinning when he caught you staring, before continuing on his path.

Shit, you felt your cheeks burn. Shit, shit, shit.

Your roommate, who had stood off to the side unbeknownst to you now stepped close, letting out a deep sigh, "Sorry, didn't want to interrupt. But damn, are you lucky."

You bit your lips as you continued to watch him. "Jerk. I hate him."

"Oh, are you sure? You blushed there quite a bit, I'd say." She sheepishly added.

"Thin ice, girl." You pursed your lips at her, "Very thin ice."

She only giggled in response.

"I would give everything to be fucked by that guy." She gazed at where he was walking off with Keigo and Tenko. "C'mon, just look at him!"

You leveled her with a flat look and folded your arms under your chest. She sighed.

"Girl, he's rich!" She wiggled her hand in his direction, "His dad is fucking loaded!"

"I don't care about all that, you know me" you commented nonchalantly.

"But—I heard he's even going to graduate summa cum laude." Her eyes became dreamy, "If you land with him, you hit the jackpot."

"Oh, s'that so?" You picked up your bag. "You can have him. I'm not interested"

"You should be. I heard he also fucks like a God."

"Good thing I'm an atheist then." You winked at her and turned to walk away, trying to ignore the wet stickiness in your panties that wasn't there before.

***

The following weeks were absolute torment. Even though Touya was a senior and the paths you crossed were rare, he was constantly around, repeatedly seeking you out in the crowd, his little naughty grins always catching you off guard and making your face heat up. He was smooth, you had to admit, and surprisingly persistent– despite your constant rebuffs.

So it wasn’t long until your name unwantedly became the talk on campus. People were staring at you, muttering behind your back, wondering who that normal girl was that managed to get Touya Todoroki's attention. You weren't used to the looks that everyone was giving you, and felt utterly uncomfortable.

Whenever possible, you avoided large groups of people while on campus. Still, it was unavoidable that some girls' stares always followed you, their whispers behind raised hands a constant backdrop in your head.

It was frustrating, in more ways than one. Because even though you tried to deny it, you started catching yourself having constant thoughts about Touya. And they weren't exactly innocent ones. Whenever you saw him from afar, your chest tightened and your heart thundered a thousand miles a minute. You couldn't shrug off this feeling of wanting to be close to him, to hear his sultry voice, and to run your hands through his raven hair.

Albeit your own feelings – or rather to deny them – you dedicated yourself to your studies for the next few weeks. So it was no surprise that when midterms came around, your relentless studying paid off, walking out of classes with the highest grades of all.

***

It was late spring and a sudden heat wave had hit your area, making everything unbearably sticky and gross. You opted for a midday walk as some sort of a stress reliever when you heard steps approaching and a familiar voice saying "Hi Cheeks–"

Touya came to a stop right in front of you, dressed in a short sleeve shirt. Intricate black and blue flame tattoos decorated both his arms, complementing his natural looks perfectly.

After reaching inside the pocket of his jeans, he took a cigarette out of the box he had retrieved, and placed it between his lips. He lit it up, a cloud of smoke billowing up in the air as he exhaled deeply. His smoldering turquoise eyes dragged up your body and stopped at your lips.

"Wanna go eat something, Cheeks?" His gaze continued to linger on your lips.

"Sorry, I think I just lost my appetite." You deadpanned.

"Cmon–" He tilted up his chin, looking at you, smirking.

"Touya, I'm not interested."

"But I'm hungry…" And his eyes flicked back to your lips.

"Go eat alone then." You mumbled.

Looking up at him, you noticed his rapturous looks, something wicked and flirtatious flickering behind the azure hue of his eyes. Your stomach somersaulted and you knew it was lust in his heavy-lidded eyes when your gazes locked.

"I'm not hungry for food, Cheeks—" his voice was husky, successfully making your spine tingle.

"Oh for God's sake," you tried to swat his chest but he dodged gracefully, a playful smile on his face, taking another drag of the cigarette he was holding between his fingers.

You couldn't help but stare at his sinfully seductive lips, the way they urged to be kissed—

Okay, let’s not go there, you mentally slapped yourself.

But you were caught already as he observed the way your cheek reddened and cocked his head, eyebrows raised. “Bet you're thinking about me right now, Cheeks.”

"Excuse me?" You lied, the spreading blush reaching your ears, “F-Fuck off Touya!"

You felt like you were seconds away from exploding, with your heart rate blasting through the roof.

"I think I'm making you nervous." He grinned,

"God, you're so full of yourself–" you started.

Luckily a high smooth voice interrupted your little bantering.

"Hey Toto, been looking everywhere for you!" a stunning girl approached.

Touya didn’t even pay a glance as she got close to him, manicured fingers trailing up his arm.

"Missed you, baby" she pouted her plush lips at him, "Why haven't you answered any of my calls?"

Touya sneered, his usual bored expression back on his face, "Should be self-explanatory."

He placed his cigarette between his lips again, sucking in his cheeks, his hooded gaze not leaving yours.

The girl was stunned by his rude reply but then seemed to brush it off. Moving her face close to his, she purred, “What’s with the attitude, baby?"

"Told you, I have other plans..." Ignoring her completely, his eyes continued to be trained on you as smoke billowed around his face.

Even though he was clearly not interested in that girl, it still left a pinch of bitterness in your heart. You felt disappointed. You'd heard that he had gotten around quite a bit– but seeing the girl just being so much better looking than you made you feel so inferior, so ugly, so—

—you had to get out of here. Now.

"I think you should satisfy your hunger with her," you pointed out and before he could reply, you shouldered your bag and left down the path to the library.

You heard Touya call after you but then the high-pitched voice of the girl interrupted, followed by rough cussing on his behalf before you could get out of earshot.

Serves him right.

***

This irritating, depressing sting of jealousy had been gnawing away at your heart ever since the scene outside with the girl and left you almost sleepless at night. Let's face it, you weren't exactly a virgin anymore either. But your experience had been rather—bleak, to put it nicely. With some random guy. For a whooping ten seconds. Leaving you beyond unsatisfied.

But Touya– he must have been in bed with so many girls, must have gathered so much experience that the thought alone made the bile of jealousy rise in your stomach. And as it was apparent to you, all the girls he had were all pretty and perfect and you couldn't help but feel inferior to them. And you hated yourself for thinking this way.

But that wasn't the only thing keeping your thoughts occupied– no. You couldn't quite shrug off the idea that – even though he served her off, or maybe just because of that – each girl was just a joke for him. As were you.

You had just finished your last lecture for today and, grabbing your iPad from the counter you winced, a stinging pain shooting through the tip of your finger. You pinched it between your thumb and index finger, seeing a splinter stuck in it. You knew you had to wait till later to get it out with tweezers at home.

You sighed as you exited your classroom ready to head outside—when you felt a soft hoodie sleeve slide along your neck as an arm draped around your shoulder, the subtle scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke starting to engulf you.

It was familiar, comforting—

—and yet still so unwelcomed.

"There you are, Cheeks, missed ya." Touya's low, sultry voice close to your ear sent instant shivers up your spine.

Your step faltered and you spun around only for another arm to coil around your waste. Dragging your gaze from his chest up to his face you instantly shrunk beneath the intensity of his stunning blue eyes. Your mouth opened but nothing came out, too struck by how inexcusably handsome he looked up this close.

"That really hurts, huh?" He said with his husky voice, looking down at your finger.

"Let go of me, Touya" you shivered under his touch and tried to shake off his arm.

His eyes never left yours as his hand wrapped around your hurt one, bringing it close to his face. Breathlessly, you watched as he latched his lips around your fingertip and flicked his tongue over the wound before starting to suck.

You inhaled sharply, as a piercing pain shot through your finger, his eyes heavily lidded with lust and desire when you locked gazes.

Shit.

Suddenly, the pain was gone and he released your finger. He stuck out his tongue, the splinter sitting on its tip. He turned his head to spit it away and let go of you, smoothing his hair back. He watched with an amused grin while your cheeks went slowly ablaze.

"D-Don't do that, Touya," you stuttered.

He leaned close, propping himself against the wall next to you. There was that smirk again— the one that made your heart skip a bear. His hand came up to tug a strand of hair behind your ear and his light warm touch had your stomach flutter.

"Don't do what?" He cooed.

"D-Dont touch me." Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

Damn.

You hated it. You hated how he made you feel inside, how he made your body react to him. You felt heat rising inside of you again and your resentment towards him increased.

“I'd say you like my touch,” he smirked a bit wider seeing the rosy blush spread on your face. "It's more than obvious."

“You wish,” you retorted, shifting to the side, further away from him.

"And I need to go now, I need to work on my scholarship project." You mumbled as Touya watched on with his lazily lidded eyes.

As you took a step away from him, you felt him hold you back by your arm.

"Wait!" He called out and you stopped, staring straight ahead.

“Listen, Cheeks. I want to apologize,” he sighed, sounding pensive. “You’re busy and here I’ve been, like, keeping you from your work."

Turning around you took him in. He seemed apologetic. And honest.

"I really like spending time with you." He cocked his head, slowly releasing his hold on you. "Why don’t you tell me what the assignment is about so I can make up for distracting you by helping out?"

This was unexpected. His honest expression caught you off guard, and, hesitating for a moment, you told him about your assignment. Not before throwing him a glare–out of mere spite.

"Well, come to think of it," he mused, "That's a topic I aced last year. I could help out."

Of course, he did, you mentally slapped yourself.

"Ok, here's my offer," his smile became wider. "I'll book a quiet room at the library and help you out."

"Ok, but we only study." You scrunched your nose cutely at him.

"Aw Cheeks, I'm hurt that you think so lowly of me." He chuckled, "Of course, we will only study—promise."

His cerulean eyes were lit up beautifully, bright, with a glint of his usual mischief in them, but also integrity. It brought back memories of when you were kids, of how he used to look at you back then. Full of contentment and—

"Ok," you declared defeat. "Three o'clock. Library. For studying."

He whipped out his phone, asking for your number and typing it down in his contact list.

"Yup, just for studying." Placing his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, he leaned in and pecked your cheek before you could even register his actions. "See ya at three, Cheeks!"

And then he strutted off, hands lazily stuffed in his pockets. As you watched him leave, you noticed the whispers from your classmates as he passed, some eyes even trained on you. It made the heat in your face even more obvious and you quickly turned to walk away.

***

It was half past two and you were sitting at one of the reading tables aligned along the wall in the basement of the library. Touya had texted you that he had successfully booked a room down there. As you were trying to kill time, you were reading in preparation for the meeting. The supportive stone pillars served as dividers in between the tables, yet not as any kind of soundproofing.

At the table adjacent to yours, two girls had been keeping you from studying, irritating you with their endless gossiping. Finally, it sounded like they were gathering their stuff when—

"Have you heard the latest news about Touya?" The first one whispered.

"Spill the beans, bestie!" The other urged.

Oh no, here we go, you thought, clearly annoyed by the fact that every girl seemed to know something about him.

"A girl I know from a party said she slept with him recently." The first one started.

You rolled your eyes. This was the worst conversation to listen to. You tried to focus back on the book, starting to read the first line when—

"You know, she claimed they did it here — in this library."

Oh for Christ's sake, you slammed your hand on the pages. You were close to standing up and leaving. But the desperate urge to want to hear where this was heading took control.

"No way, that's so hot!" The other girl gushed.

"Yeah, can you believe it? She said he invited her for a study session." You heard her shifting in her seat.

You froze, all blood starting to drain from your face.

"What, really?" The other girl's voice was high with excitement. "That's so treacherous. And naughty—"

"He signed up for a quiet room and then they fucked—" there was the sound of fabric rustling as the first one stood up.

You didn't listen any further as all sounds around you started to disappear. The pen you had clutched between your fingers slipped away from your grip, clattering onto the table.

Your heart pounded in your ears and your throat constricted. With your stomach churning and tears starting to form, the world seemed to spin as you slowly rose on your wobbly feet, snatching your belongings.

As you started walking, it felt like gravity had been turned up as every muscle in your body suddenly felt too heavy to move.

God, why did you fall for this…

***

"Please!"

"No." You scoffed.

"Pretty please?!" Your roommate tried again.

"Still no."

Considering for a second, she continued, "I'll do the dishes for the entire next month."

Contemplating your answers for a second, you exhaled heavily. "Still no."

She groaned out loud, but then offered with a mischievous smile on her face. "I know secrets about you that I'm not gonna hesitate to spill."

"You wouldn't dare—" You let out a harsh breath, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

"Try me!" She boasted.

You turned your attention back to your studies.

"Ok, dishes and groceries. For a month."

You let out a deep sigh, closing your book with a loud clap. "Fine."

***

So, this is how you ended up at Keigo's birthday bash - organized and hosted by none other than Touya Todoroki.

You wanted to leave before you had even arrived. Ever since you walked out of that library a week ago, you had successfully avoided Touya and ignored every one of his calls or messages. And now you were here, able to run into him at any minute.

The party had been the talk of campus for quite a while and everyone had taken desperate measures to get their hands on the limited tickets. Even though Tenko teued to convince you to attend, you kept refusing. That was, until your roommate came into your room, fanning her face with two of those most sought-after invitations, courtesy of Tenko, and bribed you into joining her.

The party took place in an opulent suite at the noblest hotel in town, owned by none other than Enji Todoroki, Touya's dad.

Standing against the wall in a corner of the spacious two-story living room area, you took a glimpse around to take in the scene. There was a huge bar and a professional flair bartender currently doing a performance flipping his mixers and bottles, perfectly emphasizing the sleek contemporary furniture.

The entire room was filled with pro lighting effects tailored to the music of a professional DJ playing off to the side. A huge luxury buffet with an assorted arrangement of foods - all masterfully prepared - was placed against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. It wasn't only a feast for the eye, but also one to spoil the palette.

Your roommate had already excused herself to approach some of the Seniors standing at the bar, leaving you to yourself sipping on your gin & tonic. Sliding your free hand along your dress, you nervously tugged at its hem, trying to pull it down further. Your roommate made you buy it earlier this afternoon and it felt way too short and way too tight for your liking.

You sighed and stepped towards the well-endowed buffet table when an arm wrapped around your waist from behind and pulled you around.

"Hey, Cheeks!" A voice whispered close to your ear– but it wasn't Touya's. Blond hair tickled your cheek as Keigo dipped his head against the curve of your neck, his warm soft lips grazing your skin.

"Keigo, let me go."

"But you feel so nice." He slurred, a hand starting to wander lower. "And warm."

"Keigo–" You tried to free yourself from his embrace, "Let. Me. Go!"

"Sorry, not happening," holding you with one arm tightly, he quickly chugged a glass filled with whiskey he was holding before placing it carelessly on a catering table nearby.

You tried to push against him but years of being on the Varsity Team had obviously paid off – he didn't budge an inch.

"Lemme kiss you..." He whispered against your neck, tongue dipping out to taste you.

An uncomfortable feeling spread through you, his breath hot against your skin, heavy with the scent of whiskey.

"Keigo, keep your hands off me–" You kept struggling against his hold as his hand slid down from your waist to your ass. “I swear to God, I’ll punch you."

Just that second you were pried out of Keigo's grip. You lost your footing and stumbled back against a warm body, a strong arm keeping you from falling. Seeing Tenko casually restraining an obviously drunk Keigo, a suspicion arose as to whose arms you were in. As you tilted your head up, a pair of mesmerizing blue eyes glanced down at you, a mischievous glint in them.

Yep. Touya.

"Please don't punch him." Touya chuckled, making sure you had safe footing before releasing you and sending you an apologetic smile. "He's just a bit drunk."

The blond man swayed in Tenko’s embrace, grinning stupidly at you, "Pfff, I'm not drunk! I'm sexy…"

"Well, you better keep restraining me or else I'll punch his pretty face nonetheless…" You growled in return.

"Ha! She said I'm pretty," the Blonde beamed, obviously delighted about your description of him.

"Tenko, please take Keigo over there," Touya nudged his head towards the other side of the room, "I saw a bunch of sorority girls looking for him."

"Yeah Tenko," Keigo's face turned bright and he slurred, "Let's go get some ass!"

And with that, he raised his fist and stumbled off through the crowd, with Tenko rushing after him but not before rolling his eyes in annoyance.

Trapping your chin between his thumb and index finger, Touya angled your face upward as he raked his eyes over your features. "You're OK there, Cheeks?"

His scent was intoxicating. It numbed your mind and sent heat straight down between your legs. Embarrassingly enough, you noticed how just this subtle gesture of affection had your panties stick wetly to you in an instant.

"Thanks, Touya," you muttered and tried to push past him, trying to get away from him.

But he was quick to wrap his arm around you, keeping him close to you.

"Nuh-uh, you're staying with me." He grinned, picking up a nearby fresh glass filled with amber liquid from a table. "You keep disappearing on me…"

"Oh, so what—you need me to punch you as well?" You cocked a brow at him.

"Worth the risk." A smugness settled on his face as he took a sip of the amber-colored drink from his glass.

The liquid glistened on his lips and your eyes flicked unconsciously to them before he licked it away. They were the most alluring feature, soft and slightly parted—and again you couldn't help but fantasize how they would feel pressed against yours.

You were quick to avert your gaze again. But an unwanted desire grew in your chest, and you clenched your thighs in an attempt to stop the heat from spreading.

But Touya's mouth quirked suspiciously at the corner, having seen your wandering gaze.

You took a deep breath to keep your annoyance at bay. "What are you smiling at?"

"Hmmm let me think…" he tipped his head and added with a cheeky expression "You, staring at my lips?"

"No, I wasn't," you braced your hands against his chest in an attempt to free yourself.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks when you felt him, all the firm muscles under his soft shirt, warm and solid, his strong heartbeat pounding against your palm.

Shit.

It stirred something inside you, making you aware of just how attractive he was, how close you were to him, feeling the heat radiating off his body, his sweet breath fanning your face. The blush kept spreading to your ears especially when you noticed something else that was solid as well. And it was pressing against you.

Just lower.

Your body felt hot all of a sudden and you tried to blame the little alcohol you had consumed so far. But the thought of how his chest would feel, bare underneath your skin, how it would feel to press your lips against it clawed its traitorous way into your brain.

Luckily the train of thought was cut short.

"I'm pretty sure you were staring at my lips," He fought back a grin as he raised an eyebrow.

Bastard, you cursed inwardly a few times for having been caught red-handed.

"No, I wasn't," you answered, wincing inwardly from sounding so weak.

A pleased sound rumbled deep in his chest. "I think you're lying, Cheeks."

Why is he so infuriating, insufferable and so–

– goddamn attractive.

"Touya, please–" it came out as a mere whisper while you swallowed nervously.

“Please what?” He tilted his head, looking amused. “You don’t have to be shy, you know.”

He was obviously having a blast with your reaction. He has always been like that. One second he was nice and sweet and the next second his blatant cockiness annoyed the hell out of you.

“I’m not shy.” You tried to defend yourself. "You're just annoying, that's all."

His eyes slowly dropped down to your mouth and you felt it straight in your belly. It took over your senses and clouded any coherent thoughts.

“And you’re pretty." Touya whispered, leaning in further.

“What do you want from me?” You trembled beneath his gaze, suddenly feeling so vulnerable.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tilting his head to the side, he angled his mouth above yours. “You."

You could feel his warm breath on your lips, the tip of his nose tickling yours. Maybe he did change. Maybe he really was interested in you. So without thinking any further you let your lids flutter shut, parting your lips when–

"Oi Touya!" A guy shouted at him over the noise of the crowd and the music, "Am I interrupting something?"

Your eyes shot open as both turned your heads towards a young man with short auburn hair approaching, wearing a black shirt and white tie.

"'Course you fucking are, dipshit!" Touya growled at him, obviously not happy about the guy's appearance.

The other took you in before asking, wearing a stupid grin on his face. "What happened to the cute blond girl from before? No wait, she was brunette, wasn't she—?"

"Shut it," Touya hissed, loosening his hold on you as he was ready to approach the other man.

Memories of the conversation between the two girls at the library flooded your mind and it churned another feeling inside you— one of betrayal. And suddenly you felt so dumb for thinking that he'd ever change. He would always be the guy who humiliated you and would do it again without thinking. And with that last thought, you dove under Touya's arm to start digging your way through the crowd toward the exit.

There was a loud cuss as your dark-haired admirer picked up the pursuit. But even though he was larger and stronger, you were quite agile, twisting and diving around and under people.

"Cheeks, stop!" Touya called after you.

But you didn't think of it. You almost reached the door when fingers clamped around your wrist and pulled you back.

"Fucking stop running!" Touya glowered at you, his tone aggravated.

"Let me go!" You dug your fingers under his to try to free yourself from his grip.

"Hell no," he hissed and turned around to drag you up the stairs with him. "We're gonna have a talk."

"I don't want to though." You continued to struggle.

"I don't care, I'm sick of this!" He didn't even look at you as he arrived at the mezzanine floor.

"Touya please, you're hurting me," you whimpered, his grip on your wrist relentless as he kicked open the first door.

Touya shoved you into the room, booting the door shut behind him and you stumbled, catching yourself on the couch. Turning around you visibly paled. Touya stood in the doorframe, you'd never seen such a serious expression on his face. As he started approaching, you backed up, shrinking away under his intense glare.

"Touya, let me go–" Your voice sounded too shaky to be strong.

"No, you're not leaving until we've talked." He answered while approaching.

"You're scaring me—" You stepped further back until your back hit the wall.

He was taking another stride until his body was directly in front of you, slamming his hands against the wall next to your head, caging you in.

"Touya—" You sniffled, "What's gotten into you?"

The blue of his eyes was dark, pointed sharply at you.

"You're asking what's gotten into me?" His voice was dangerously low and rumbling. "Should ask you the same! Every time I wanna talk to you, you run away."

You cringed at his harsh words, his mouth pressed to a thin line, its corners angrily twitching.

"I want an explanation" He lifted his hand to slam it against the wall again, giving his words ample support.

"You pulled down my pants!" You yelled at him.

There. You said it.

His expression turned puzzled, seriously taken aback.

"You're still mad at me for that?" His tone turned more aggravated.

“You ridiculed me!” You glared back at him, feeling your eyes watering up.

"That was ages ago!" He slammed his palm against the wall again. "I was a fucking dumb kid!"

Your bottom lip was trembling when your eyes locked. Frustration and anger clawed their way up your chest and without thinking you blurted out, "And what about the girl you fucked in the silent room? Were you gonna pull the same stunt on me?"

Your entire body was trembling by now, tears sitting heavy at your lash line.

"What the—no! Who told you that bullshit?" By now, he seriously seemed confused.

"It's no bullshit!" You spat back, "Some girls talked about it while I was waiting for you."

"So, that's why you left…" his eyes darkened, "Listen Cheeks, people say a lot of shit about me. If you would've just asked–"

"And what about that blond–" you cleared your throat, trying to suppress a sob, "No, brunette girl earlier on?"

"Oh for fucks sake!" Touya's anger was palpable by now. "Kai hates me and always makes up shit like this just to get at me."

"I don't believe you." You turned your face sideways to avoid his gaze.

He stared at you in disbelief for a moment, before—

"You don't believe me?" He almost yelled at you. "I've been honest with you the entire time and you have just been so—aaahhh!"

He slammed his palm against the wall again. You flinched at its impact, a single tear freeing itself from your damp eyelashes, making its way down your cheek. Another one quickly followed. You choked on a gasp and noticed you had held your breath. Slowly, you breathed through trembling lips.

A heavy silence settled between you, the only audible sound being his heavy breathing and your silent sobs.

There was a subtle touch to your cheek as a warm hand gently cupped your face, turning it towards him.

"Look at me," he said, his voice much softer.

You did, your gaze slowly rising to meet Touya's eyes. All anger was gone from his features, another expression instead passing over his face, one that was almost... tender. And affectionate.

His azure eyes took you in, the way you sniffled softly, another tear rolling down your cheek. His thumb brushed the tiny drop of salt water away as he continued gazing at you.

"Never made a girl cry like this before." His voice was low and made your heart pick up a beat, "Except for in my bed underneath me."

You giggled, sniffling, and leaned into his comforting touch. "You're such a dick…"

"I know," he chuckled and shifted forward, subtly eating up the space between you.

You could feel his warm breath fan over your skin. Then his lips ghosted over your cheek, the tip of his tongue dipping out to lick away the salty warmth of a single tear.

"Please forgive me?" He murmured against your skin, moving lower, following the trail of your tears, licking them up, one by one.

It was hard trying to formulate a response with his warm lips on your skin. You tried to say something, tried to push him away but you had forgotten how to speak – how to move.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he breathed and adjusted his direction, going lower, and lower, his tongue flicking out to lick the corner of your mouth.

You sucked in a little breath of surprise and he took the small advantage to move his mouth over yours, dipping his tongue inside.

You let your eyes flutter shut, your entire brain short-circuiting as it hit like a lightning strike. You forgot yourself, forgot everything else except for the tip of his tongue on yours.

Your mouths started to sensually and slowly work against one another as were your tongues, leaving you lightheaded and knees buckling as you moved your hands up to steady yourself on his hips.

He smelled and tasted like the best thing you've ever tasted, with warm skin, and a hint of smoke. You kept kissing like that, his hand cupping your face, sliding behind your neck, to cup your nape, to angle your face and pull you deeper into the kiss.

You felt his thigh slip between yours, pinning you in place. The unmistakable press of something stiff against your hips caught your attention, making you gasp into his mouth. Goosebumps cascaded up and down your body and you felt each hair stand on end.

With each roll of your tongues, he humped his clothed erection against your core. A small whimper spilled past your mouth and it earned you a quiet hum of approval in response.

You were starting to lose your mind as you continued to intensify the kiss, mouths working against one another. He groaned at the way you ground your hips forward, meeting his in a desperate attempt to feel more of him.

His movements became erratic before he pulled back, panting heavily, eyes dark and hooded with lust.

"Jesus fucking–" his words came out hoarse and breathy.

Then his hands swept along the back of each of your thighs to lift you off the floor and onto his hips.

You squealed his name against his lips as he swung you around and laid you down on the soft sheets of the queen-sized bed in one swift motion, his mouth not once leaving yours.

Fitting himself between your legs, he spread them easily with his body, grinding his pelvis against your clothed heat, making sure you felt just how huge he was and how much he wanted you.

With each rut, he pressed his throbbing cock directly against your sensitive nub. It had your blood boiling, your core clenching and you canted your hips to meet his, the coil inside of you tightening by the second.

"Touya–" you panted into his mouth, nails digging into his shirt.

It felt better than anything you could've imagined. The pressure in your guts increased, the coil wound tighter and tighter, a white heat starting to blister, and with the next press of his hips against your mound—

“Touya, wait!" you gasped against his mouth, but it was too late.

Your orgasm exploded and had you moan into his mouth, back arching off the soft mattress, pressing your breasts against him.

His movements stalled and he looked at you with a puzzled look on his face.

"Did you just…?" A surprised smirk spread on his face.

You just laid below him, trying to catch your breath, cheeks bright red and lips raw and swollen from the intensive kissing.

"Yes, you did!" His soft chuckle vibrated through you, making you squirm underneath him.

"S-Shut up," you muttered, your hand raising to cover your blushing face.

"I think it's cute." A hand slid into your palm, fingers interlacing with yours as the other rose to brush a piece of hair away from your eyes.

"I'm just sensitive." You tried to explain, your face warming.

"I love that about you," he said, his warm breath fanning against your skin. "No need to apologize."

"You're just messing with me" you murmured, eyelashes fluttering shyly.

"I'd never," you heard him say under his breath.

You both stayed like this for a few more moments, warm bodies pressed against one another.

Then he asked, tentatively, "So, you want to stop here?"

Carding your fingers through his messy hair you laughed, "You better not--”

He buried his face in your neck and groaned deeply. "God, why do you have to be so perfect—?"

"Trying my hardest," you giggled.

He started nibbling against your pulse, making you writhe underneath him. You could feel him smirking against your skin at your reaction, lips finally brushing yours and you untangled your fingers to pull at his hair. You started kissing, deep and longingly, darting your tongue between his lips to get a better taste of him. He kept kissing you, deep and messy, just pausing to nip at your lips before shoving his tongue in your mouth again.

Without breaking the kiss, you propped yourself up on your elbows. Touya wrapped his arms around you, grabbed the zipper of your dress, and slowly pulled it down to its bottom. Hooking his fingers under your straps, he pulled the dress down over your bare breasts and you helped get your arms out. Leaning back, he gently guided you back onto the mattress. When the dress was at your hips and you lifted them, allowing him to glide it over your butt and off your legs.

The kiss never broke, eyes closed with lust, until suddenly he straightened up, eagerly taking you in with smoldering turquoise eyes. "Shit, you look more beautiful than I imagined."

"You imagined—?"

"Oh, you don't know how often I dreamed about you." Tracing his fingers around the curve of your completely exposed breasts, "Ever since I first saw you on campus."

With that he sunk down, latching his warm lips around your erect nipple. You sucked in a breath, a blistering heat shooting right through your body as it ripped a loud moan from your mouth. As he continued, running his tongue over your nipples, alternating between swirls and flicks, you gasped for air. His mouth closed in on one, then the other, sucking and biting lightly, while Touya hummed in approval and continued his ministrations on the other breast.

When he stopped, you looked up at him. There was so much heat between your legs, and you were dripping wet.

“Can't believe that after all these years I finally have you in bed with me." He breathed out heavily, eyes glazed with lust as he peered at you below him.

And If it was possible to fuck you with a look, this was it.

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “What are you waiting for then?"

“Atta girl,” he said and hooked his thumb under the hem of your panties, pulling them down and off your legs.

Grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart, his breathing became faster, seeing your glistening folds, all that arousal seeping out.

"Cheeks, let's skip the foreplay." His face took on a pained expression as he gulped. "I think I'll bust a nut in my pants if I wait any longer."

Tilting your head, you took in the huge, twitching bulk in his pants, urging to be released. "Y-Yeah, go on, I'm ready."

"Thank God." He growled deep and low, hooking his fingers under his shirt.

Pulling it over his head, he threw it carelessly across the room. When he started unbuttoning his pants, you gasped as you saw a neatly trimmed black happy trail leading up to—

Sitting on his knees he pulled his pants down.

—his pierced cock.

Jesus Christ. Figured he was pierced– and went fucking commando.

You realized you were holding your breath when he had his eyes on you, asking with an unexpectedly low voice of his, “Ready?”

You nervously nodded when Touya was settling himself back between your legs.

Grabbing his cock at its base, he positioned it against your shimmering folds, sliding it back and forth over your slick pussy instead of putting it in. Precum mixed with your slick, his gaze transfixed on your face, waiting for approval.

The way you tentatively bit your lips was all he needed.

His cock started pressing hard against your entrance, and after a bit of resistance, the head popped in with a burning stretch.

Simultaneously, the both of you moaned out loud and tried to hold your composure. With gritted teeth, Touya pushed further agonizingly slow, groaning, each piercing slightly resisting before finally slipping in.

You felt split open, so sensitive that you struggled to last as he pushed in further, deeper. When he was finally inserted, you couldn't help but cry out again. It wasn't only the length that was impressive. The thickness and piercings were what got your head spinning.

“Fuck,” Touya hissed through his teeth, desperation in his voice. His head dropped against your neck, his hand tapping out on the sheets.

"I-I think I need a moment here," he panted against your skin, his stiff cock wildly throbbing inside your pussy, close to painting your insides white with his creamy release.

"Whom are you telling," your breathing was labored, trying your hardest not to cum on the spot.

"Shit, you're so…" he gulped, "Why are you so fucking tight—?"

"Cause you're huge!" You gasped sharply, clenching even harder down on him.

His breathing was still strained, his face still buried in your neck.

"So, do you need me to distract you?" You wheezed. "Pinch something or maybe—punch you?"

"Don't you dare," he chuckled, playfully biting the skin of your shoulder.

“I would never---” You giggled, close to bursting out into laughter over him.

Noticing the tension inside you slowly subsiding, you placed your warm palm on his back, gently running it up and down his stiff back, hoping he’d finally relax. Feeling the muscles slowly soften under your touch, his nether regions calmed down as well.

"Ok," he finally breathed, "Ready?"

You only nodded and he—

Holy shit.

You weren't prepared for this at all. Your hand was clutching onto Touya's shoulder for dear life as he began to slowly pull out. All nerve endings were on fire instantly and one hand darted up to clasp over your mouth.

It felt amazing, his piercings adding just the right friction, his girth to the heavenly pressure. Touya grunted as he stopped, only the cockhead still buried inside your wet warm walls.

Then without a warning, he leaned his weight onto you, sinking his entire length into your pussy again, all the way to the base. He started a hard and deep pace, knocking the breath out of you.

“Touya—” you hit your head against the headboard from how urgently he thrusted forward.

“Cheeks,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he continued to slide his cock in and out of you. “How the fuck do you feel so good?"

"Y-You tell me—" You moaned.

Placing his hands on your hips and wrapping his fingers under your back he suddenly sat on his knees, lifting your butt off the mattress. Forcefully, he pulled you off the pillows and towards him, onto him, and slung your legs over his shoulders.

Oh! was the last coherent word that your brain came up with before he started fucking you in earnest now.

Fisting your trembling fingers into the bed sheets, you bit your lower lip at the feeling of the steady push and pull, making you gasp and clench around him harder.

Touya muttered feverishly, “Fuck, you’re so wet,” under his breath, dropping his head out of pleasure. "You're dripping down my balls–"

He leaned closer to you, knees at your arms, chest pressing against your breasts as he kissed your lips while continuing to move his hips. His mouth was warm and wet and eager against your own and you clutched your hands around his nape for stability.

You slowly started losing your composure, struggling to hold back your orgasm. Still, you begged for more, more– and he delivered, thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before, stimulating that special spot in you, brutal and quick.

And you couldn’t help but sob at how good it felt. Never in your life had you experienced anything like this. He hit all the right places, his piercings adding perfectly to the friction. You felt the coil inside you so close to bursting again.

Oh my god, you were gonna cum again.

You honestly never thought that sex could bring this much pleasure, with it feeling raw and amazing at the same time. Your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, squelching sounds mixed with your incoherent sobbing and his low groans, while Touya's heated gaze drank up the lewd expression on your face as you came.

“Wanna fill you up with –fuck– my fucking cum, Cheeks.” He emphasized each word with a hard thrust, making you moan even harder around his length.

You could barely speak at that point, couldn’t even find the energy to move so he slid his hand between your legs, talented fingers starting to rub your clit.

His mouth found yours again and he kissed you– hungry and sloppy– muttering under his breath, "Do you want me to fill you up? Do you want my cum inside of you?"

"Oh god, yes." You whimpered breathlessly into his mouth.

He started to give you deeper, harder strokes now. You were close to crying, with it all being too much. Your vision became blurry from all the tears in your eyes and your body trembled, legs shook as his thrusts prolonged the orgasm and unearthed another one right behind it.

It made your eyes roll back and toes curl, losing all control as you felt the tingly feeling begin to unwind in your abdomen. You were a mess below him by then, pleading for him to go faster, harder, voice wracked with sobs of ecstasy.

The pleasure coiled, tighter and tighter. You couldn't hold back anymore, with him sliding in and out of you at this insane speed, his cock pounding into your G-spot with every thrust forward, working you both towards your shared high.

Your cries and the wet, squelching sounds of your messy unity echoed off the walls. You didn't care if people at the party downstairs could hear, too lost in each other's pleasure to think about anything else.

“I–,” he slurred, completely out of control. “I’m gonna cum.”

And then Touya’s head dropped against your shoulder, hot breath coming out in rough pants from the exertion. His eyes rolled back and he shuddered — pounding deep into you, erratic and needy.

The sight of him being so close to bliss, the feeling of him slamming his dick into you— you couldn't handle it, and it had you falling over the edge again. The tension burst, another intense wave of pleasure racking your body as you gushed around his length. It felt like you shattered into a million pieces and then he pulled you back together again.

With his rhythm becoming sloppy and one last thrust, he came deep inside of you. sharing this moment of all-encompassing pleasure with you.

You felt Touya toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest rising and falling fast as he tried to pump back some air into his lungs.

“Holy—,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck.

"Yeah—" you wheezed, trying to get your heart from racing in your chest.

You both stayed like that, drunk on the endorphins rushing through your system. His hair gently brushed over your skin, his soft lips alternating between nibbling and kissing your skin while you ran your hands across his back.

He eventually got soft inside of you and then slipped out, each piercing slowly popping out. Your combined release gushed out, dripping warm and creamy down your ass and onto the sheets below.

Bit by bit, the muffled sounds of the party came back, filling the room.

"Sooo—" He glanced at you from under his dark bangs. "Are we good now?"

"Touya…."You scolded, shuddering under the feeling of his warm lips against your neck.

"I love how you say my name." He was nosing your skin, "'Getting hard again."

"Imbecile" - you groaned when you felt his soft cock starting to twitch against your dripping folds again.

He chuckled at that response, rubbing his slender nose into your pulse.

"But since you asked so nicely— I'll think about it," raising your arms you weaved your fingers into his hair, earning you an appreciative hum.

"You're so mean, Cheeks" he cooed, continuing to cover your skin with little kisses.

"Just paying you back for years of torture," your lips curled into a soft, satisfied smile before you turned your head to meet his lips for another passionate kiss.

***

The constant talk of the professor made for a monotonous backdrop. You sighed, looking at the digital clock on your tablet. Still a few more minutes to go before class was over and you could enjoy the rest of the day off.

You paid little to no mind to the professor's words, thinking about the weekend and all that happened. After you spent the night with Touya, you both woke before anyone else. He offered to drive you home, but not without buying you your favorite coffee on the way there. After a goodbye kiss at the door, he drove off.

To your surprise, your roommate had spent the night with Tenko and apparently would stay at his place. It was a turn you'd never anticipated but were pretty happy about. And– it left you alone in your apartment, having enough time to ponder the endless possibilities of what that night with Touya meant for you, with it occupying your mind more than you anticipated. Because even though you knew he was probably busy with getting the cleanup organized, it still ate away at you that he didn't even call once.

So needless to say, doubts were nagging at you. You weren’t sure what this meant, what his intentions were. There were a million other girls in the world he could have chosen. So many hotter ones, prettier ones. So, were you just a phase, just another girl in the line of all the others he's had?

The pain in your chest rose as you kept thinking about this. And you finally concluded that he had to have teased you, that you were just another trophy on his wall of girls he fucked.

You hated this. You hated feeling like this, these thoughts making the turmoil inside you grow. You covered your face with your palms, feeling your eyes turn hot and your lower lip starting to tremble.

Luckily, you were ripped from your thoughts by the shuffle of the people in the room and realized that the lecture was over. You took a moment to steady your pulsating heart, sighed, and stuffed your belongings into your bag, standing up and shouldering it.

As you headed towards the door of the lecture room and stepped outside, you only took a few steps before someone was by your side, slinging an arm around your shoulders, and pulling you close.

Looking up with wide eyes, you saw Touya, effortlessly handsome as always, grinning at you, "Hey, Cheeks, missed ya."

You didn't know what to say, noticing how people stopped in their tracks to stare at the both of you, whispers starting behind raised hands.

"W-What are you doing here, Touya?" Your cheeks blushed as the wetness of your lashes reminded you of your recent doubts.

"I'm here to see my girl." He circled one arm around your waist, rasping, "I'm sorry, but my dad kept me busy yesterday so I couldn't talk much."

"Oh," you replied as his hand slipped behind your nape, pulling you closer.

"I'm gonna make it up to you, ok?" He leaned his forehead against yours, his perfect turquoise eyes glancing right into yours. "Let's spend the rest of the day together."

You only nodded, brain empty, just filled with his scent, his warmth, his low seductive voice in your ears. It made a certain heat rise inside of you again and you clenched your thighs, secretly cursing him for having such an effect on you.

Then Touya dipped his head down to press his warm lips against yours, not caring about the increasing number of onlookers. All thoughts left your brain when the wet tip of his tongue flicked across your lips, demanding entrance. His hand moved to your cheek to tilt your head so he could kiss you even deeper. With the rasp of his warm tongue against yours, you tangled your fingers in his hair, making him moan into your open mouth. His kiss, his touch, had your stomach in knots within seconds.

When you both pulled away for a brief moment to breathe, he groaned "God, I missed this."

He tugged you back towards him, his tongue plunging into your mouth. You felt hot all over, your skin tingling in anticipation, as your desire for him built inside of you. He shuddered slightly when you worked your hand under his shirt, not thinking about anything but wanting to touch him, feel him.

Being in his arms again, feeling him so close, felt heavenly.

You shivered, wetness pooling in your pants again, “Touya—”

"Bro, what the fuck?" An all too familiar voice interrupted over the whispers of the surrounding onlookers. "You kissing in public?"

Touya groaned and broke the kiss, straightening up. "Got a problem with that, dumbass?"

"Maybe," Keigo approached, raking his manicured hand through his blond hair.

Coming to a stop in front of you, Keigo hooked his thumbs into his expensive Gucci jeans as he took both of you in. "So Cheeks, can I have a kiss as well—?"

"No, you fucking can't." He hissed, his arms circling protectively around your figure. "Don't even think about touching her."

"Touya, I'm sure he didn't mean it like that." You tried to intervene.

Touya looked straight ahead at Keigo. "Oh yes, he did."

"Yep Birdie, I would love to have a taste of you…" Keigo winked at you.

You blink twice, taking a moment to process his words.

“Piss off, Keigo." Touya hissed.

But the blond man wasn't phased at all by the threat.

"Why not?” Keigo smirked, ruffling his hair. “Are you, like dating or what? Cause, you never date---”

You froze and averted your eyes, afraid of his answer because you still weren't sure what this meant to him.

“Of course we are,” Touya said, unfazed, drawing you closer to him.

"W-We are?" Your stomach somersaulted, heart rising to your throat at his words.

"Sure Cheeks, what else did you think?" Seeing you with disbelief in your eyes he rolled his eyes at you. "That this was just a one-night stand? You disappoint me—"

"Her reaction doesn't surprise me at all." Keigo's teasing smirk split into a full-blown grin, "Never took you for a relationship type of guy."

Touya’s head spun around to face his friend.

"Me on the other hand," Keigo mused, grinning suspiciously at you, "I am all for a serious relationship, just saying."

"Shut it, Keigo," Touya growled upon his words, visibly irritated. "She's mine."

Looking at Keigo you noticed the corners of his mouth wobbling suspiciously, as his eyes flicked to yours before focusing back on Touya.

Oh. Ohhh—

You found yourself holding back your giggles, watching the scene now unravel in front of you from a different perspective.

"Well, ok," Keigo wiggled his eyebrows at you, "My offer's still up though."

Touya growled deep and threatening. "Keigo, I'm warning you—"

The blonde shrugged at the threat before continuing with a big mischievous grin. "So, was he any good? Cause I'm much better—"

"You motherfuckin–" Keigo barely dodged Touya's fist and spun around to run off cackling, only for your boyfriend to take after him.

"I'm also much bigger than him!" You heard Keigo yell, followed by Touya's angry howl.

You couldn't help but burst out laughing looking after them running down the hall like two little children. Needless to say, this was the best start to college for you after all.

#dabi smut #touya smut #college touya smut #college touya #college boy Touya #college!touya #college!au #mha college au #bnha college au #touya x reader #touya x you #keigo takami #tenko shimura #my hero academia touya #my hero academia college au

1K notes · View notes

dragonagecompanions · 8 months ago

Note

hello, this is my first request :) unsure if your still taking requests but I was wondering how the companions (maybe romanced maybe not) would react to finding out the Inquisitor has a dead kid? I think the only way the party would find out is in the fade via the fear demon, and then maybe the advisors find out on their own ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠∵⁠ ⁠)⁠┌

idk but I would be truly honored to see you answer this request, and even if not than thank you for reading over it <33

- 🍡

WARNINGS For CHILD LOSS YOI HAVE BEEN WARNED

Cassandra: When the fear demon, gleeful in it’s telling of their leader’s loss, reveals the truth the Seeker is…well, there are no words. Forcibly she is reminded of how they swayed, pale and weeping, when she had said there were no other survivors. Guilt churns low and deep at her own words, a year and more gone now, throwing that fact in their face as accusation. Throwing such a loss in their face and then demanding answers.

Throwing a calling at their feet and demanding leadership, never knowing what a loss they struggled through.

She fights all the harder for them, as if every enemy batted away from them is attempted absolution. Cassandra Pentaghast thought she understood grief in all its facets, but what does the loss of older brother and parents- expected losses if come too soon- stand before the loss of a child? Maker, how do they still breathe through it?

When they are free of the fade, she approaches only to offer apology. If they wish to speak of their loss she will listen, but only then. She has forced enough from them.

Varric: Shit. Just…shit. Here he is, going on for months about how this story is bad for heroes and how the Inquisitor is the main character and blathering on, and never saw it. Never saw the aching grief, because it was never shown. The only example he has, or is at least intimately familiar with, is Leandra Hawk and his own mother.

And as the Inquisitor had never fallen into drink or taken to blaming whoever was closest to them for things outside of anyone’s control there had been no sign for Varric to catch on to. And it makes him feel…almost dirty. Stained with his own intentions, blithely going on while their leader had lost their kid.

He doesn’t bring it up to them, doesn’t know how, but Skyhold’s resident author is absolutely the own who tells Josephine as soon as they tumble out of the fade. That raven missive is a short and brutal telling, far from his normal goings on, and his guilt is manifold in it.

Solas: The Dread Wolf is not so unattached from the world as to not consider the losses suffered at the conclave, but for the most part -when he did turn his mind to them- they were mostly academic. A balance of power, and the loss of so many leaders among both chantry and mages a destabilizing force for his future efforts. Numbers laid cooly on a chart, beads on an abacus. The fortunes of war laid bare.

But more than one parent lost a child in that terrible moment, and siblings mourned. Children bereft, friends torn asunder, lovers left to weep alone for their loves. Listening to the fear demon enumerate the inquisitor’s loss magnifies the enormity of what happened, and though he will undoubtedly be the source of much worse for a moment the Dread Wolf cannot breathe.

It passes, of course, and when they leave the fade the rift mage dies his best not to carry those emotions out with him. This world is not to blame for his actions, for the destruction of his world, but he must restore it and so they must bear the cost. It is not fair to them, and it will be long months until he can be east about his plans.

In the interim, he dares to approach the inquisitor only once about their loss. He is there as a listening ear in the silence of his rotunda if they wish to speak of their sorrow. Or if they wish only a silent companion, he will direct the kindest spirits he can find to guard their dreams and remain at their side as long as he can.

Blackwall: Maker forbid. For a moment Skyhold’s would be warden is swamped by the images of Callier’s children, dead under tiny shrouds beside the ruined carriage at his command. Too many children fall victim to the machinations of their elders and with none to protect them from the fall out, but for all that most of Blackwall’s experience has been from the other side.

Being confronted with the parent who had lost a child, confronted with the knowledge that they had told none of them and had suffered under the burden alone was staggering. Damn it, they had all laid burdens at the Inquisitor’s feet and expected answers, demanded decisions and leadership in a word gone mad— and none had known what they had lost.

He doesn’t know what to say or how to act and instead channels everything into the fight to flee the fade. Rainier would be too much the coward to speak to their leader in the aftermath, but Blackwall- older and hopefully wiser from his own griefs- will offer quiet condolences and whatever aid he can. If they need to speak of it be will listen. And if not there is soft wood and chisel enough to grind out any feelings if that is what they need.

Vivienne: Children had never been in her destiny. As a mage, even one so elevated as to be all but free of the constraints of the circle, motherhood was forbidden to her. Any child of her womb would be sacrificed to the Chantry, given to a family deemed ‘more worthy’ to raise it.

And as a mistress, no matter how deeply the love between them bloomed, Bastian could never have given her such a blessing. He had children— an illegitimate child, and a mage child at that, would have been too great a weapon against him.

And so she had put it out of her mind, never allowed herself to consider or imagine what a son might look like, how a daughter might smile. To think of it would be a loss too great to contemplate—or so she had thought. Met with the active loss and overwhelming grief that their leader must feel, Madame de Fer is suddenly glad not to know how such a burden might rest on her soul.

Could she be so calm a leader as the Inquisitor, while bleeding out inside? Vivienne does not know, and that…well, terrifies her in a way little has. But she is not called iron for nothing, and so when all is calm again she will go the Herald and ask simply and plainly what she might do for them. If the answer is nothing she will abide by it. And if there is something that might in any way assuage their grief then she will ensure they have it.

Dorian: Well, that at least explains the Inquisitor’s uncharacteristically violent outburst, when Halward Pavus had made his way to Ferelden. Upon hearing the possible consequences of the blood magic ritual the Inquisitor had laid into the Magister, flaying with words when they could not use violence. Even the Pavus paterfamilias had seemed shaken by the diatribe, and Dorian had felt championed.

He is not so shallow as to feel betrayed by the knowledge of what terrible grief must have driven such an impassioned defamation of character, but can instead only ache for his friend’s loss. They must have been a wonderful parent, and in a quiet time later will gather his courage to tell them so.

Sera: It doesn’t really register in the moment, so great is her own fear of the Fade and it’s denizens, but later it will simply break the Red Jenny’s heart. Their leader lost a true little one, and still managed to bring themselves to protect the rest of the little people no matter their age.

Like Blackwall she will either offer distraction or uncharacteristic silence in comfort, baked goods an offering that feels too…personal for such a gaping loss. But her admiration for them grows exponentially.

The Iron Bull: Public, corporate grief is rare among the Qun. Not forbidden, exactly, but when everyone is given a role it also implies that every person is inherently replaceable in that role. As Koslun said, the tide rises and falls and things must work forward toward peace.

But the death of a child is different. Whether disease or violence or simple accident, losing an imereki is a tragedy. The Tamassran mourns, the others in their care mourn, and all those in the sphere of the lost one are permitted some little allowance for the loss. Things cannot grind to a halt- this is why parents are separated from children, to ensure the deep emotional bonds that are anathema to the Qun- but there is not simple acceptance without acknowledgement of the loss.

Not even that was given to the Inquisitor. It’s east to see the shock of the others even through his own fear, and the knowledge infuriates Bull enough to get him through the Fade. Their leader lost a child, and no one was there for them. Instead piled on the whole world and its imminent loss on their shoulders. It’s disgraceful.

Later, when Adamant is pacified and they return to Skyhold, he will pull them aside. It will be painful and it will be slow, and whether they need alcohol or pain or even the clinical breakdown that bondage and sex can only give-with their explicit consent- he will help them bleed the pain and begin the grieving process.

Cole: The pain was too big for him to help, the threads caught up in pain and joy and guilt and anger and terrible despair. He didn’t even have the words to describe it to others, and so had kept silent.

If they need him later he will help, but this loss is too big for a spirit unsure of how to act.

Cullen: Maker’s breathe. How could they…why did they not…Damn it, how could he not realize?! He had all but thrust the entire inquisition on a parent who had been robbed the chance to even bury their child, let alone mourn them.

Varric’s report rocks him to the core, and the commander in truth does not know what to do. If the rest of the inner circle has it well in hand he will simply work to make sure their leader has less in their plate. If they wish to discuss it with them, he is there and if not…

He hardly has the words anyway.

Josephine: She weeps over the missive, when it arrives. Their inquisitor has been hiding the worst of loses from them, putting on such a brave face to do so much. Like Cullen she works to make sure they have less to do when they return, but does pull them aside briefly to awkwardly hug them and ask if they want a memorial somewhere private in Skyhold.

Leliana: She knew. She knew from only a few days after, when her spies brought her everything there was on the Herald. And even The Nightingales Heart could ache for such a loss, but Leliana took her queues from the Herald and simply never discussed it. That does not change now— she will follow their lead.

Mod Fereldone

#cassandra pentaghast #solas #dorian pavus #varric tethras #the iron bull #sera #madame de fer #warden blackwall #cole #tw:child death #tw: loss #tw: death #cullen rutherford #josephine montilyet #leliana #dragon age inquisition

150 notes · View notes

spaghettinoodlesworld · 2 years ago

Text

The English Love Deception

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Jude Bellingham X Reader ft Trent Alexander Arnold

synopsis: Y/n's crush Trent sends her a wedding invitation to his wedding with the person y/n hates the most. Y/n is in a major need for a plus one and a job. Will the rich rude arrogant boy next door be of help?wc: 1988 words

warnings in this part: swearing

a/n: This is my first time writing an enemies to lovers fanfic so do tell me what do you think and if i should work on a part 2. If you have any requests do let me know.

You wake up in your dark bedroom with the only source of light being the eerie-looking full moon. Mind you your room is cute af, but now the room was greenish-dark with extremely weird vibes.

The glass door, which doubles as a window and a door to your backyard, is naked with no curtains viewing your backyard, which now seems to be some sort of a graveyard with graves of random people you don't know.

Despite the uncanny silence, all was fine until a shadow of a man limping in your backyard approaching the door/window whatever it is.

Because of your unlimited intelligence and your possession of a one-of-a-kind brain, you elegantly slid the door to your backyard because stupid you wants to see the danger.

Well, no shit you’re the character that dies first in a horror movie. The one that goes, "oh let's go check out that very creepy-looking, dusty, filled with cobwebs, desolate house with the ripped curtains cause why not it looks absolutely safe haha."

So you slid the door open and some cool vapour gushed into the room. Do you stop? hell no. You look at the dead-looking limping man who now appears to be wearing some sort of football jersey. Yup, it's a zombie what do we do ummm maybe run? you just stays there waiting for him as he moves his rotten hand towards you and says, "you know what's ridiculously tasty?"

You definitely need to stop watching these Neymar edits on TikTok 'cause now this man is not only haunting your fyp he is haunting your nightmares too.

You wake up from the dream looking at the clock to find it saying 7 pm. You have slept the whole day and the reason behind that is your man, the love of your life, the only boy you have crushed on who happened to be your best friend too has sent you an invitation to his wedding.

Trent Alexander Arnold, the Liverpool football player, was getting engaged to the person you hate the most in the entire world, Hannah Atkins.

Trent and you were neighbours and very close friends before he moved when he signed with Liverpool. You used to rant to him day and night about that ugly ass bitch Hannah whose main job in this world is to make your life a living hell by spreading rumours in our friend group and whatnot. He used to comfort you and tell you how to deal with her.

However, due to distance, the communication decreased, but your connection was still there.

That was until pretty Hannah, who somehow got her hands on a love letter you wrote to Trent that you never meant to send to him anyway.

You thought you writing a letter will help you move on from him but little did you know was it ruined everything. She sent him the letter and it ended up with him politely rejecting you and I quote, "you were like a little sister of mine whom I'll continue to support forever."

"Well I don't think you're supporting me Trent when you send me a wedding invitation letter with your name and Hannah's name together," you mumble to yourself.

He's getting married to Hannah next week. You know it's been a year since the Trent incident but you still can't help but feel betrayed by him and you can't fight the urge to slap the shit out of that Hannah.

You got up and remembered that your girls bunny and MJ are coming over and the house has close to nothing to feed the girls.

You lazily put on a random hoodie of yours and throw your hair in a messy bun because you’re not like other girls *wink*. You’re going to the grocery store across the street you down need to go all out so you won't bother to wear your contacts your glasses will suffice for now. Nothing is gonna happen anyway, right?

You leave the house and walk by your neighbours' fancy house You always can't help but stare in awe at it every time you pass by only to be interrupted by their dog who happens to hate your guts. You wonder if you happen to meet the owners of the house will they hate you too

The dog has some serious issues with you cause whenever you pass it starts going crazy and barking loudly this doesn't usually happen with other pedestrians.

You get to the store and start making your way to the snacks aisle choosing them good good chips and as you make your way back to the cart you bump into something that sends your glasses flying away.

"I'm so sorry ma'am," you hurry to say to what you assumed is a female as you without your glasses equal useless.

"ma'am? and I thought my day couldn't get any worse. Even you a monkey-looking desk think I'm a girl now," he, who turns out not to be a she, replies.

You sense that you’re getting humiliated and despite seeing nothing but a blurry tall figure you won't stop and watch your dignity getting spat at.

"what's the attitude bro? You bumped into me, my glasses fell and I apologised when it was actually your fault. If you please hand me my glasses so that I can take a clear look at the person with enough confidence to call me a monkey-looking desk"

"Listen dumbo I don't have time for this BS I got more important matters to solve like dealing with this cheater of a bitch. I have seriously had enough of the female population today," he says as he types something on his phone aggressively.

"I can see why she- I mean I can't see but I can sense the reason behind her cheating I actually pray for her mental health after dating such a man with a lack of self-respect as yourself."

"You're talking big when you don't know who you're talking to," he says with a lower tone in an obvious attempt to intimidate me.

"I don't give a damn who you are I see disrespect I say disrespect. Apparently, your girlfriend saved herself from an ugly crazy dude now it's my turn to do the same."

You tried to move away from him, but you could tell he was getting closer when you instinctively backed away until you found your back pressed to a refrigerator.

"I admire your courage," he puts your glasses on your face and said, " now do tell you do you still think I'm undeserving of the confidence I emit as you said now that Dora the explorer got her vision back?"

You look up to look him in the eyes to find him deeply staring into yours. The distance between you can be measured by a ruler literally. You were at a loss of words your eyes were busy eating him up that your brain wasn't comprehending what was happening.

You were so angry that this man who was indeed taking your breath away. If there is one thing you are not, you are not delusional. You can tell an attractive man when you see one and you admit it to yourself. You should not cower down but something about the way he was looking at you captivated you and it seems he noticed it too as a little smirk grows on his face.

"Cat got your tongue? Now that your vision is back you can't speak? Should i take off those glasses off of you for a sneaky reply?"

"All I have to do is scream and you won't like what will happen to that pretty valuable face of yours," you should try to get away safely and peacefully but the boiling blood in your veins thinks otherwise.

After he uttered those words he doesn't budge but continues to stare you down and study your features as if by doing so he will carve your picture in his brain and curse you forever. You didn't even notice that he left until someone asked if the shopping cart belongs to you.

You return back home to find your friends Bunny and MJ already inside waiting for you. They know your passcode and you trust them with your life.

"Girl, where have you been? We've been waiting for a while now," Bunny says.

"I'm so sorry guys I went to get us something to eat," you said while setting the plastic bags, "I don't think today is my day."

"I don't think any day is gonna be your day if you keep yourself locked in his place," MJ says taking the bags and opening them.

"MJ don't say it like that!" Bunny cries trying to sugarcoat MJ's usual bluntness. They complete each other and you are so thankful for having them in you life.

"so the both of you think I'm a loner with zero life and now that we received those wedding invites my life is ruined," you say as you noticed them taking out their invitation letters form their bags simultaneously.

"umm pretty much," MJ responds. "No of course not," said bunny pushing MJ as she walks to you. You know she thinks so but Bunny would never admit that to your face.

"oh god"

"More importantly, are you going or not? cause you definitely should" MJ said drawing your attention to the fact that you forgot that now you got an invitation you should respond.

"As much as I hate to but I must but there are two things stopping me now" you tell them sitting on the cough crossing your legs while open a bag of hot chips.

"which are?"

"i need a plus one," you responded. No, the invitation didn't say so but you said so.

"Do you need a plus one or do you want a plus one?" Bunny questioned reading your mind and actually knowing the answer to her question.

"I need a plus one. I can't show up to the wedding alone. My pride would never plus it'd would be a sign to Trent that I've moved on and I don't need him or his so-called support."

"What's the other problem?" MJ asked taking the bag of chips from your hand.

"I need money to buy a new dress. I hardly got some pounds to sustain day to day expenses and I won't ask my grandparents for more money they already do much."

"y/n, i told you not to quit the job. We could've went and taught that girl Hannah and her ugly friend of hers a lesson," MJ argued.

"What's done is done now help me think of ideas of a job that'll get me quick money before next week," you say as you get your notebook to write the ideas.

However, the moment you finished your sentence MJ's phone lit up.

"Trent just sent a text," she says, "It says 'Hey MJ. The boys from the English team are throwing a house reunion party at Bellingham's house in an hour. If you and the girls are free join us.'"

Both MJ and Bunny go crazy but you can't hear what they're saying. The fact that Trent didn't send the message directly to you hurt you, and as much as the thought of meeting Trent again angers you. It also warms your heart that you would actually see him sooner and not in tux with his wife next to him. Mixed feelings all over the place.

"I'm cool I don't mind," you finally tell them.

"omg omg omg we are actually doing this? Like putting the Trent scenario aside, we're meeting the English team like the actual team that played in world cup. I need to fix my make up," Bunny said walking to your vanity.

"okayyy but y/n why is the location pointing to the house next to yours? Do you live next to Bellingham as in Jude Bellingham???" MJ suddenly stood up.

"And who must that be?" you said confused. You did watch the world cup but if you're being honest you haven't watched all matches.

'OH MY GOD YOU LIVE NEXT TO WHOM?" Bunny stood too.

"I KNOW???"MJ turned to look at her.

"As much as i like the sudden uplift of the mood and i sincerely hate to be the one to ask but who is this Jude Belli-"

Before you finished your sentence, Bunny shoved her phone to your face.

"Oh hell no" hell no indeed. isn't that.?

"What? know him now?" Bunny asks.

"Um guys no but yes."

"We don't do witchcraft nor do we read minds so please do tell us," MJ replied.

How do you tell them that you made a scene with this boy, apparently an English player who now plays for Borussia Dortmund. Well, it doesn't change the fact that he is a short-tempered piece of shit an attractive one but still shit.

"This is going to be a wild night," you say as you head to your closet to find something to wear. You try to calm your nerves. you don't know what's stressing you out more meeting Trent and his soon-to- be wife if she's there or meeting the self-centered boy from the supermarket.

"Spill the tea about Jude now," MJ demanded.

You tell them the story and wait for their reactions as they were still in awe about the whole encounter thingie.

"I refuse to believe such a thing about Jude. He's an absolute gentleman. Are you sure you met the same person?" Bunny argued visibly annoyed by the scenario.

"I'll get my popcorn this is going to be fun," MJ smirked as she too started to freshen up herself.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfiction #borrusia dortmund #bvb dortmund #borussia bvb #england football #football fic #world cup #jb22 #football #trent alexander arnold #bellingham #footballer x reader

161 notes · View notes

millylotus · 2 years ago

Text

Jason Todd & His Romance Novel Dreams

Inspired by this post/thread [started by my wonderful mutual @help-i-need-a-cool-username]

I love Jason being a literature nerd, but what's a more fun facet of this is his Jane Austen Fanboyness which easily leads into Romance lover Jason.

Alot of this idea sprouts from Dead On Main [Jason x Danny Fenton/Phantom], but I also am a multi shipper so this could be put to literally anyone with Jason [b₳tce$tor$ dni, don't even].

The down side of my love for this up and coming trop it that I am not a classical literature girly, nor do I read regency novels [all I got are clips of bridgeton & queen charlotte]. But I had a mad manwha faze during middle school, and lemme tell you Jason would thrive in those world tbh.

This response by @samaraistop from the linked post along with Hidden Route by Kuroishuuha on ao3 [which is basically an otome game isekai fic where Danny is the Villainess & Jason is the shitty fiance, go check it out] inspired me to make this post.

IDEAS

Classic Isekai Into Book/Otome Post Mortem Or Sleep

Truck-kun makes a surprise visit in the US & fucking no clips Jason [no I'm not thinking about the batfam's reaction to this let me have my fun]

Or maybe the first time he dies Jason is reborn into another world, specifically a royal high school or something

Baby boy decides to take his new chance at life as the main character or villainess of his favorite manwha

Maybe the end of the story is when he wakes up in his coffin and he isn't even sure if it was ever real

Second Chance Rebirth

The Waynes are some highranking nobles, maybe even royalty in this fantasy world

And Jason is killed somehow, his og death of being lured away by his bio-mother to be killed for money is already a pretty acceptable death in many manwha

Then of course he's reborn, maybe the day before or the day he meets Bruce or the day he's adopted

Anyway he gets a second chance at living

I don't usually like Cannon x OC but tbh this idea would work well with OCs

General Tropes I Think Jason Would Like

Harem trope: doesn't matter if it's all girls or all boys [though Bi!Jason is my headcanon so a mixed group would work] I just want Jason to be trying not to break any hearts but also being easily overwhelmed by so much love

Arranged Marriage: Enemies-lovers or maybe childhood friends-lovers, just give this boy someone he might not want or someone he is already head over heals for

Villainess's Revenge Rebirth: LET JASON KILL & BE PETTY, he gets Joker out of the way so quick, then he becomes a mob boss and gains a group of close advisors who are also his love interests b/c that happens alot and I like it

just, AAAAH 😆

#millywrites #jason todd #jason's romance novel dreams #red hood #dc #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfiction prompts #can you tell i've been obsessing over this for the whole day

50 notes · View notes

comicgoblinwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Tropes Tag Game

Tagged by @arijensineink --thank you!!

TBH I don't think about tropes a lot while I'm writing/planning, and it's only later when I read about tropes on writeblr that I realize which ones my stories lean on (if they do).

Tagging: @abalonetea @gummybugg

Rules: Bold the tropes you enjoy writing or those which are presented in your writing (a lot). Put in italics the tropes which you'd like to write one day or you're intrigued by them. --I've also underlined tropes that come up, but with a caveat or smth.

Thoughts below:

Found Family

This one just tends to come up a lot, possibly because I tend to write a lot of queer narratives,

The Martyr

I don't think I've gotten to this point in any of my stories, but I can see it coming up.

Surprise, Bitch! You thought I was dead

THIS ONE has come up (a couple times) in either the actual MS or the outline. Sometimes it's a good thing, sometimes it's a problem.

Happy Ever After

Y'know, I just like my stories to end happy, at least for some of the characters. It might not end well, or wrap up neatly for all of them, but generally the main character get at least some of a happy ending (after all the shit I put them through they deserve it, okay?)

Fight scene turns into a make-out session

This usually happens with friends/rivals sparring or in competition, and not so much with characters who are actual narrative enemies. At least not so far. It might come up if/when I get to "Enemies to Friends to Lovers."

Amnesia story

I've got a story planned with this, it's just not being written yet. I like the Unreliable Narrator aspect it brings in. Specifically I like Selective Amnesia, where things that the character remembers just... don't line up with the established timeline.

Love triangles

Yes, but. They're ALL in love. It's ACTUALLY a triangle, not a weird arrow shape situation.

Villain redeemed

Haven't done this yet. Not sure when or where it'll happen. It just sounds neat.

Enemies to friends to lovers

This one also just sounds neat, I don't have anything planned yet.

#writing #writeblr #writer #tropes #writing tag game #trope tag game

5 notes · View notes

rbbess110 · 1 year ago

Text

Tropes Tag Game

tagged by @squarebracket-trick over here!! thanks so much for the tag, i really appreciate it <33

Bold the tropes you enjoy writing or that show up in your writing a lot. I also put in italics the tropes that I want to write!!

things that appear in my current main wip are: surprise, bitch! you thought i was dead, rivals put together for a project, and bookworm falls for the bad guy.

the bookworm falls for a bad guy is actually a funny story, because?? i never thought about nida and masha's relationship that way, but as i was looking at those tropes i realized that literature nerd x daughter of a mafia boss really is just a fancy version of the bookworm falls for the bad guy, haha.

aus are probably the thing that reappears in my writing the most though - i have absolutely no self control with them. my brain just throws them at me and then i have to figure what to do with them, ksdjsdfksjsdkh.

tagging (with no pressure ofc!!) @scribbledsilver @axl-ul @hallwriteblr @words-after-midnight and anyone who wants to join!!

#writing #tag game #writeblr

3 notes · View notes

tisiphonewolfe · 1 year ago

Text

WIP Tropes Tag

My thanks to @sam-glade for tagging me here!

Rules: highlight the tropes that feature in your WIP

Gentle tags for: @mariahwritesstuff @thedahliafrog @aalinaaaaaa @late-to-the-fandom

I'll preface this by saying: I don't know tropes that well and I don't think many of these apply here . . . but for The Tectomany Saga, I'll do my best!

I think that's the best I can do with this list ;;^^ To sum up: Found Family (Well, by book 3 I guess) Surprise Bitch (Book 2 is all about this) Only One Bed (Hello book 1) AUs (Also book 1) Smalltown falls for big-city (The main pair) Enemies to friends to lovers (Some side characters)

#writeblr #writeblr ask games #the tectomancy saga #mwc&C #made with crown and claw

2 notes · View notes

howtotrainyournana · 7 months ago

Note

Feral Bastards and Evil Gods both caught my attention (for the WIP ask meme)

of course they did XD

These both actually have things posted for them!

Feral Bastards is the working title of my fic series hold me softly (kill me softer) which is a Dream/Technoblade-centric DSMP AU. It's a hero/villain enemies-to-friends-to-lovers starcrossed-lovers fantasy AU thing. There's four works out currently and quite a bit written but not posted; I have the whole arc of the plot mapped out, there's just a lot of actual technical writing to do. If you like deeply explored fictional cosmology and religion, court politics, and idiots being in love without realizing it, then stay tuned! There's a lot more to come.

A snippet from a future Feral Bastards fic (apologies if I've already posted this):

"The temple of the Blood God is an ugly thing.

Oh sure, it’s objectively beautiful. Gilded marble columns and thick crimson tapestries with detailed embroidery. Towering pale stone walls and looming stained glass windows and frightening multi-colored bonfires. Smooth obsidian floors polished to a mirror sheen, reflecting back the world in dark and twisted tones. The whole place reeks of riches and opulence and dominance.

It also reeks of death and war and torment.

Subjectively it is the worst place Dream has ever been to. There is not a shred of living things in the temple or the surrounding area; nothing vibrant and natural and growing. No trees or flowers or grass, just cold stone and hot metal and sleek fabric. The prizes of war are on full display here – gold and jewels, well-oiled weapons, taxidermied beasts and . . . people. Dream shivers under the watchful eyes of the dead."

Evil Gods is the working title for my now-dubbed Water AU, the main fic of which is secrets like seashells under your tongue, of which there is a chapter up and posted. Again, there is a lot of this AU that's already outlined / plotted out, but there is a bulk of writing that still needs to be done. When that happens will be . . . someday! Bit by bit! But slowly and surely we will get there. This one is a lot more beeduo and benchtrio-centric, with again, lots of fictional gods and goddesses and worldbuilding surrounding that. I also do some fun things with magic and Minecraft mechanics and spies / assassins / espionage in this one! And marine biology. Listen, I pretty much took all my niche interests and hyperfixations and squished them all into one story. It's fun.

A snippet from a future part of Water AU:

"Tubbo was going to get so much done today, it was going to blow people's minds. He was going to sit down, get shit done, and be productive. He was going to accomplish everything on his list, and then he was going to make a new list, and then he was going to get everything on that list done, too. He was going to-

"OW, FUCK, SHIT!" Tubbo yells.

He's gone sprawled across the floor, shin smarting from catching on whatever the hell he's tripped over. Seriously, who leaves stuff out in the lab? Tubbo is going to blame Jack. Tubbo rubs his chin where it's bruised from his date with the floor and glares back at the offending tripping hazard. Then he's scrambling back up to his feet.

"Holy shit, holy shit, why is there a body in my lab!?" Tubbo turns the body over, and it groans.

Tubbo reels back, but the guy doesn't move. Doesn't seem conscious, really - his eyes are closed and his face is pale and sweaty and his pale blonde hair is sticking to him like strings of taffy. There's also the strange embalming-fluid scent of magical decay hanging in the air, and something like ichor seeping through the guy's shirt. Tubbo glances down at his own hands and grimaces. The ichor is thick and stains like ink, but it's closer to oil or blood in texture. That's . . . absolutely not sanitary.

"Who the hell are you," Tubbo mutters.

The guy doesn't respond, so Tubbo starts rifling through his pockets. There's a concerning number of knives for a normal person (Tubbo appreciates the number of knives this guy has), a ledger full of code, a bag of diamonds and emeralds and lapis lazuli and redstone, and a bunch of potions. Other than the thick gold necklace around the guy's neck, there's nothing else of note. Oh, yeah, and the gaping hole through his chest leaking black ichor.

There's that."

Again, if anyone wants more snippets just hit me up!

Cheers,

Nana Graye

#nana answers asks #dsmp au #water au #feral bastards au #nana writes fanfiction

0 notes

sleepyconfusedpotato · 3 years ago

Text

Welcome to My Blog! („• ֊ •„)/

🚪COMMISSION IS CLOSED! 🚪

Gotta finish up the current queue before opening again. Thank you!!

Commission queue list 📄

☕ Support me on Ko-Fi ☕

🏦 Support me on PayPal 🏦

-> IG @/sleepyconfusedpotato and Twitter @/sleepycpotato

-> Please DO NOT REPOST my art nor use my OC for any x reader fics ಠ⁠_⁠ʖ⁠ಠ

🧑‍🎨Call of Duty Artist Watermark Glossarium 🧑‍🎨

🥔 All My Drawings 👩‍🎨

🥔 Ghost x Jade 💀🌹

🥔 Ghost x Jade Masterlist ⚡

🥔 Ghost x Jade Spotify 🎧

Original Characters🦄

Call of Duty Modern Warfare OCs :

Charlotte "Jade" Le Jardin (paired with Ghost) -> #charlotte jade le jardin

Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (paired with Gaz) -> #eleanor ladybug graham

Barandos "Bara" Tarigan -> #barandos bara tarigan

Call of Duty Black Ops OCs :

Oscar "Jeweler" Fletcher (Jade's handler) -> #oscar jeweler fletcher

Eli "Garnet" Le Jardin (Jade's father) -> #eli garnet le jardin

Gracie "Ruby" Le Jardin (Jade's mother) -> #gracie ruby le jardin

God of War OC :

Silja Freyrsdottir (paired with Heimdall) -> #silja freyrsdottir

Equipments I Use :

Software - CLIP Studio Paint EX

Laptop - Lenovo Legion Y7000

Drawing Tablet - Huion Kamvas 16 4KHD

Character Sheets, Guides, and Assets :

Jade's Character Introduction 🌹📄

Jade's Full Body Concept Art/Character Sheet/Reference🌹📄

MWII Characters/Operators Gears Guides Masterlist ⚙️ by @shadeops21

PDF File of MWII Operators Gears Guide by @shadeops21 ⚙️📁

Color Palettes I Use for Coloring 🖍️

Reboot!MW Tattoo Assets 🖌️

Ghost's Tattoo 💀

Alex Keller's Tattoo 🦿

Soap's Tattoo 🧼

Art Tutorials by Me👩‍🎨

Hands 🖐️

Side Profile 🗣️

Face Proportions 🙂

Ears 👂

Height Difference 🕴️🕴️

Camo Pattern 🍃🍂

You might come here or follow me after seeing one of my arts, posts, or memes. My blog mostly posts about my arts, thoughts, memes, or comics related to CoD. Let me introduce myself (´･ᴗ･ ` )

This post isn't that long, but please read until the disclaimer.

I'm SleepyConfusedPotato. I'm Sleepy, and I like any form of potatoes. I love Simon "Ghost" Riley with every fibre of my being.

General

I'm a 21-year-old fetus artist trying to make her way in the world. (18/05/02)

I'm a Visual Communication Design major in Bandung Institute of Technology (DKV ITB)

Proud Indonesian based in Jakarta. (GMT/UTC +07.00)

I'm a practicing Protestant Christian.

I love every form of art. Visual, music, and dance. Mainly visual.

I usually listen to music when I draw which is 24/7. If you're like me whose job is staring at a screen all the time, feel free to follow my Spotify Sleepy Confused Potato and my playlists are yours to hear! (my playlists are my OC couples with tropes like friends to lovers, forbidden love, slow burn, lovers to enemies, and stuff UWU) (ﾉ・ω・)ﾉ♫ They are my main inspiration to draw comics.

I dream to have my own Webtoon series.

I love making comics, usually romance or comedy themed. I'm a fluff and hurt/comfort advocate („• ᴗ •„)

I'm an INFJ-A, Enneagram 2.

Fandoms/Interests :

Call of Duty (mostly Modern Warfare) - TF 141 are my comfort characters. (Capt. Price, Soap, Ghost my beloved, Roach, and my OC Jade)

Assassin's Creed - All members of Kenway Family, Shay Cormac, Frye Twins, Arno Dorian, and Bayek of Siwa.

Overwatch

Red Dead Redemption

GTA

I like K-Pop music cuz you can't lie. It is good music and they can dance. They are artists (I love EXO). Also K-Dramas.

Not Interested in :

Politics or social issues (I'm not here for that)

NSFW

Any form of rape/abuse/sexual assault, incest/pedophilia

General negativity

DISCLAIMER :

You're free too interact with me as long as you're kind and nice :D

I'm a practicing Protestant Christian. However, I'm not here to enforce my religion on anyone. I'm here to fangirl about the things that I love and passionate about. I'm open to interact with anyone regardless of anything you identify as or who you love. This only means that I must put a boundary on what I can or cannot draw. Please understand this.

If you want to send me DM's or asks to belittle me or say something mean then please don't bother. I'm broke, I sleep 3 hours a day, my eyes hurt, my back hurts, my butt hurts cuz I'm sitting 24/7, my hands and wrists hurt, I'm hungry, and I don't need more problems. Please don't waste your time. Have mercy on me.

I read every single asks and DM's you send me. If I don't answer or reply, that means I don't know how to answer because I'm awkward like that, or I'm sleeping or napping d(TvT)b

You are free to use my arts as your Icon/pfp or header or anything publicly, but please put my name @sleepyconfusedpotato. Do not repost, nor claim it as your own. It is a basic art ethics.

(ง ื▿ ื)ว

All in all, welcome to my blog! Stay positive, stay happy and have a nice day! ヽ(o＾▽＾o)ノ

#welcome to my blog #have a nice stay #about me #about me post #pinned post #artist

722 notes · View notes

blairwaldcrf · 3 years ago

Note

what is your absolute favorite thing about steroline, and dair? for me i love that stefan completely accepted caroline as a person (admiring how vampirism made caroline grow into herself implying that while she evolved she was never a "lesser" version of herself in the first place she just realized her potential and actualized it), how he would never try to change any aspect of her, and the comfort and solace caroline finds in this especially considering the insecurities she always harbored. also i literally haven't watched a single ep of gossip girl but i like that dair are each other's best friends and have the easy kind of friends to lovers chemistry, because they know each other so deeply and intimately, and are comfortable simply talking to each other without any grand gestures or performative acts (also weren't they like. enemies in the beginning?? because i love that kind of tension)

Omg, so with steroline you are dead on. That is everything I love about them. And much like your otp tag for them, the best thing about them is he thinks it's "better than true love" WHICH MEANS that he is no longer looking for some figure to project fantasies on like he did with Elena. He sees her as an actual person, yes, but my favorite thing about his side is that he shows her his mistakes. He's completely transparent with his addiction (after all she's his soberiety coach). He bonds with her over sleeping with the "villains" of Mystic Falls and is one of the only people who refuses to judge her. He defends her against Elena multiple times, whether about her personality, about her wrong but well-intentioned choices, and everything else. Basically, like in season two, he keeps his promise that he would never let anything bad happen to her. He dies protecting her via having his heart ripped out which, symbolism!!! And yes, Caroline falls first, but in a previous meta post I talk about how Stefan has seen Caroline grow into a beautiful, capable, desirable woman. He's seen her with Tyler, Klaus, and Enzo. He even makes a jealous comment of how she was flirting with yet another British man. And Stefan has had his heart broken by women who were desired by other men and so why wouldn't he be in denial to protect himself? And Caroline, the girl who in s1 was so insecure and broken about never being the one who gets chosen under the shadow of Elena's spotlight, gets to experience the love of the man who she had desperately admired as a boyfriend to her friend. And he knows her. He sees her. When they're finally together and dating she rambles about how she's insecure and Stefan says, "You and I have had more history in the last five years than most people have in a lifetime" and COME ON. I die every time.

as for Dair!! it's funny because once Dan and Blair get to a point of realizing they're in love with each other, they parallel Steroline in a lot of ways with how Dan understands Blair's freakouts/insecurities/mistakes and loves her and believes in the woman she can be when she feels safe and comfortable and she grows into that when she is with Dan. He's her lifeboat, selfless in doing so multiple times because she does not make it easy or prioritize him at first (because healthy relationships terrify her). He literally writes a bestseller novel with her as the main character, come on. and yes! they were totally rivals for years. he dated her best friend and she dated his real enemy while also being horrible to his sister, but even then, when she really needed someone, he was there to give advice (usually extremely reluctantly, but still sincere). And what's great is they have a foundation of both loving the same movies and intellectual discussions and artwork. and Blair, while being at the height of her rivalry with him over a dream job, decides not to throw him under the bus like she would everyone else. because she "stupidly thought they were friends" and that, my brother in christ, is when we knew she was fated to fall in love.

god this is long and I'm late for my lunch break but this ask brought joy to my day so thank you

#steroline #dair #asks #mutuals

35 notes · View notes

hd-wireless · 3 years ago

Text

🎶 HD Wireless 2021 Reveals! 🎶

TAKE A BOW, CREATORS!!

The day has finally come, and we can’t wait for everyone to see who created all the wonderful Wireless works that we had the privilege to present to you this year!!

Before we do that, the results of our Guessing Game! The winner, with 43 correct guesses (which gave her 260 points - please don’t question our scoring system) was @sweet-s0rr0w!! Kudos to your super-sleuthing and powers of recognition!!

All the wonderful authors, artists and podficcers who took part this year can be found below the cut. As the mods, we want to extend our thanks to every single talented one of them. Please show them all your love and appreciation!!

🎶 H/D Wireless Animatic and Fic 🎶

📻 rather a lover than a fighter [T, 15k] ✒️ Author and Artist: @parkkate & aceveria / @aceveria-art

🎵 Summary: When Harry loses his voice and his magic, it’s up to Healer Draco to save the day.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 The Road to Somewhere [T] 🖌️ Artist: @rainsoakedhello 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: In the end, all roads lead home.

📻 Don't care what they say (I would be stupid to be not on it) [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: @digthewriter 🎵 Art medium: Digital. Photoshop.

🎵 Summary: Harry finally has a chance with Draco and he's not gonna let it go.

📻 Start Over Again [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: milkandhoney / @fictional 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: Do you feel like a chainstore? Or in which one is Graham Coxon and one is Damon Albarn.

📻 Down for What You Want [Teen] 🖌️ Artist: @sugareey 🎵 Art medium: Digital

🎵 Summary: After the war, finding refuge in the clubs of Muggle London is easier than dealing with the shambles of the wizarding world. When Harry and Draco keep running into each other at Apollo's every Saturday night though, they follow their gut instincts to get on the dance floor and discover something they both have been craving for a long time.

📻 What do I do? With a Love That Won’t Sit Still [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: @cambiodipolvere 🎵 Art medium: traditional (graphite)

🎵 Summary: Italian Greyhounds are small and fucked up, but Draco is a big fuck up and that requires scaling.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art and Fic 🎶

📻 A Halo of Fairy Orbs [E, 20.6k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: vivi1138 / @penguinanimagus & Fae_vorite / @faevorite-main-blog 🎵 Art medium: digital art

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy has been dead for fifteen years, but the Black Family tapestry doesn’t agree. Upon returning from long years abroad, Harry discovers that his old rival might still be alive, and his revived obsession leads him to Malfoy Manor. There’s a mystery to solve, and Harry is chasing a thrill he hasn’t felt since sixth year. He needs to know.

📻 Oh, Sinnerman [E, 40k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: @lou-isfake and @babooshkart 🎵 Art medium: digital

🎵 Summary: “I’m serious, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “That was some real bad luck you had, being there last night. They will come after you, and they will kill you—after torturing you for information on my whereabouts.” He pocketed Harry’s wand, but held on to his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Harry was distracted by its movement, the reflections of the bright, dawning sun on polished silver. “I’m not happy about it, either, but you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.” He watched Malfoy’s face for a long time, in a staring contest he wasn’t sure he’d signed up for. Stuck with Malfoy, for the foreseeable future, on the run from a massive crime syndicate that had infiltrated the Ministry and was out for their blood. It was all very familiar, except for the Malfoy part.

📻 The Crane Lord of Gringotts [E, 31.1k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: @vukovich and @crazybutgood 🎵 Art medium: Origami, photography

🎵 Summary: Harry is fine. Being an Auror is fine. Living with Ginny is fine. It's all fine. But it used to be a lot better.

📻 The World Is A Violent Sky [E, 60k] 🖌️✒️ Author/Artist: writingsbydestiny / @starlitsilvereyes 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: Harry Potter wants to die; Draco Malfoy wants to live — a story of life and death, everything in between and beyond — in the form of scatters of love and hurt like freckles of stars forming into constellations. — Alternative Summary (And Significantly Less Poetic): Four years after the war, Harry remains grief-stricken. In an attempt to discover the parts of him that haven’t died in the Forbidden Forest, he drops off the face of Scotland to travel the world by himself. Along the way, he finds his old enemy, Draco Malfoy, in a Muggle country, looking positively dashing even with a slash of scar decorating his face. As always, Harry’s curiosity leads him to (un)fortunate places.

📻 The Stars Have Courage [M, 85k] 🖌️✒️ Author/Artist: @fantalf 🎵 Art medium: Digital painting

🎵 Summary: Draco can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move. He can’t hear anything besides the buzzing in his ears. The walls are closing in. The world becomes smaller, narrowing itself to the pain in his chest, and it becomes the only thing that makes sense. He tries to cry. Maybe he is crying, but there are no tears anymore. Luna’s words echo endlessly in his brain. Harry doesn’t remember. Harry doesn’t love Draco. Repeating ceaselessly. Infinite, Harry used to say. No. No. No. Draco can’t lose him again. But he doesn’t know who you are now. He doesn’t love you. He hates you. You are no one. His world turns into an overwhelming pain. And that pain is all that he is. — Draco waited five long years to watch his husband wake up from a coma. He's not ready to meet a Harry with no memory of anything that happened after he died at The Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years ago.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic Collab 🎶

📻 'Til Your World Burns [E, 25.3k] ✒️ 🖋️Authors: @ladderofyears and @iero0

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy is raped and watches as his world falls apart. Harry Potter is the quiet, unassuming wizard who finally listens to him.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 Inside These Walls [M, 5.6k] 🖋️ Author: @jackvbriefs

🎵 Summary: The year before Draco moves to Los Angeles, Harry Potter disappears. Draco doesn't mean to find him. He's just doing his job.

📻 Drive a Little Slower [Gen, 1.6k] 🖋️ Author: bluefay / @thesleepiesthufflepuff

🎵 Summary: He silently willed Harry to drive a little slower. To let him pretend a little longer.

📻 Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon [T, 16k] 🖋️ Author: thestarryknight / @the-starryknight

🎵 Summary: The Ministry didn’t turn bad overnight. Harry didn’t suddenly turn rogue either. Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person. If there’s an art to fighting back, then they’ll find it hand in hand.

📻 Two Starts, One Finish [E, 5.5k] 🖋️ Author: @lqtraintracks

🎵 Summary: I feel him before I see him. Nobody stands this close to me while I’m playing, and I’m about to turn to tell him so when he says, “You’re a tough bloke to track down,” and then leans against my baby grand.

📻 Never Gonna Give You Up [E, 5k] 🖋️ Author: InnerLilith

🎵 Summary: Five times Harry rickrolls Draco, and one time Draco gets him back.

📻 Alone Together [T, 3k] 🖋️ Author: @iero0

🎵 Summary: He felt like a spectre, roaming the treeless grounds, the deserted streets of Hogsmeade. It was only the train station—of course it was, Harry thinks—that harboured another sleepless soul that night. They were found as though they had been looking for one another; freezing to the ground at the sight of an unmistakable silhouette in the distance, before wordlessly meeting on the platform. They stood there, side by side, faces to the sky.

📻 Nothing Left to Burn [E, 5,1] 🖋️ Author: skeptique / @skeptiquewrites

🎵 Summary: Over ten years after their fling crashed and burned, Harry runs into Draco and finds embers still burning bright. Sometimes your ex-lover is (metaphorically) dead. And sometimes it's summertime in Montreal and the past won't let go.

📻 The Isle of Discussion [E, 21.6k] 🖋️ Author: @shealwaysreads

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco arrive at the shores of Loch Leven to record the magical history of the land. They’re friends now, but up there in the Highlands, amidst the trees and sky and that wild expanse of water their own past is more present than ever; a gap they still can’t bridge. Magic illuminates the truth, but it is Harry and Draco who have to speak it. Happily, it turns out that honesty is, in fact, the best policy.

📻 (You Should Have Been My) High School Lover [T, 3.9k] 🖋️ Authort: @aprofessionalprotagonist

🎵 Summary: After years of carefully avoiding running into Harry Potter, Pansy tricks Draco into attending a party at Grimmauld Place. How is he supposed to deal with a very attractive Potter trying to talk to him?

📻 Both Hands [E, 10.4] 🖋️ Author: @sweet-s0rr0w

🎵 Summary: It’s been over a decade since Draco packed up his belongings and left, and Harry’s doing just fine. Really, he is. So when he spots the For Sale sign outside their old flat, he doesn’t think twice about arranging a viewing. Curiosity is only natural, right? And what harm can come from a quick trip down memory lane?

📻 His favourite piece of art [E, 1.3k] 🖋️ Author: @gnarf

🎵 Summary: Six years after Malfoy had left, Harry suddenly spotted him on the dancefloor of a Muggle club in London. He couldn't let this opportunity slip…

📻 I'll Try to Keep the Walls From Falling Down [M, 14.9k] 🖋️ Author: @drarrelie

🎵 Summary: It’s OK. Love is only meant for some; Harry knows that. Besides, he wouldn’t want to risk this new, amazing friendship he has going on with Draco for anything in the world. Keeping his walls from falling down is the least he can do.

📻 Learn to Fly [T, 11k] 🖋️ Author: @janieohio

🎵 Summary: Harry’s suffocating under all the expectations of the wizarding world, but he’s fascinated at Malfoy’s sudden ability to flaunt his true self to whoever cares to watch. And Harry? He might like to do something more than watch if he can ever get up the nerve.

📻 Restless Dreams (Stay With Me) [T, 5.5k] 🖋️ Author: wanderingeyre

🎵 Summary: At first, Draco thinks the common room is empty, but then he sees Potter sitting on the floor, back to the wall on the far side of the fireplace. His head is thrown back, exposing the brown column of his throat. The curl of his hair looks soft in the firelight. Potter’s glasses are off and there are tracks where tears have wet his cheeks. He looks naked in a way that stabs at Draco, right between the ribs where everything is already bruised.

📻 Letters From Home [T, 1.1k] 🖋️ Author: @articcat621

🎵 Summary: Writing to each other is all that's getting them through this war.

📻 so lie to me tonight [T, 5.3k] 🖋️ Author: M0stlyVoid / @bonesliketambourines

🎵 Summary: Ginny thought it would be different, after.

📻 Mortal Frame [M, 6.6k] 🖋️ Author: tackytiger / @tackytigerfic

🎵 Summary: Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes. Though at least he’s on Draco’s side this time, and if he happens to be useful, and kind, and great in bed—well, Draco’s not exactly complaining. The story of three pubs, one Horcrux, four overpriced sandwiches, and two damaged men just trying to make sure that Bellatrix Lestrange stays dead.

📻 Prologue [T, 4.5k] 🖋️ Author: adavison / @aedwritesfic

🎵 Summary: Ten years after the war, Harry stumbles across Malfoy in a Muggle club. What could have been an awkward encounter might just be a new beginning.

📻 A Care To Fill The Vessel Of Your Heart [M, 2.5k] 🖋️ Author: @onbeinganangel

🎵 Summary: Draco doesn’t care for atonement. Why should he? Forgetting is easier than forgiving. Or it would be, if fate just left him to his own devices. Fate, as per usual, has its own plans.

📻 Like a Dream I Can Reach (but not quite hold) [M, 19.4k] 🖋️ Author: Cassiara / @cassiaratheslytherpuff

🎵 Summary: Harry spends his life waiting for something he isn’t entirely sure he wants, and looking for something he doesn’t know exists. Everything feels ill-fitting until Draco Malfoy enters his life and shows Harry he doesn’t have to want the expected things, and Harry learns happiness doesn't have to look a certain way.

📻 Sun and Rain [M, 4.7k]

🖋️ Author: @isamijoo

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy thinks that being in a relationship with Harry Potter is anything but easy, but then again, what's the sun without the rain?

📻 In Pursuit of Lost Marbles [T, 22k] 🖋️ Author: Theartfulldodger / @graymatters

🎵 Summary: Every night after work, Healer Malfoy follows the same routine, beginning with a familiar flight of stairs that leads to the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's. With an air of professionalism, he introduces himself to Harry, his husband of seven years, when a memory curse makes Harry look at him like a stranger. He tries not to flinch when Harry calls him sir, but he smiles when bits of the old Harry emerge. Eventually, Draco leads Harry to the Pensieve where he shows him pieces of the life they've built together, what Harry will come home to, one day, when this is all over. Then, Draco waits. He waits, and he hopes.

📻 Requiem [T, 1.8k] 🖋️ Author: EvAEleanor / @evaeleanor

🎵 Summary: Requiem — A song of mourning composed or performed as a memorial to a dead person.

📻 Changes With The Moon [Gen, 1.6k] 🖋️ Author: @missdrarrydawn

🎵 Summary: Draco takes a stroll to try to settle his turbulent thoughts, plagued by who he was, who he is and who he could be. A friend offers him a whole new world and Draco struggles with the idea, for there is too much at stake, it isn't worth it. Or—is it?

📻 Chasing Dragons [E, 89.9k] 🖋️ Author: The_Sinking_Ship / @the-sinking-ship

🎵 Summary: Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

📻 Drive, Draco [M, 2.4k] 🖋️ Author: Erebeus / @erebeus-roxy

🎵 Summary: got my driver’s license today, but you're not around to see. Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

📻 Fire [E, 10k] 🖋️ Author: GallifreyisBurning / @gallifrey1sburning

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy has never had trouble getting boyfriends. The problem is getting one that doesn’t leave him feeling cold after the first few months. He’s looking for something specific: passion, excitement, someone to keep him on his toes. He just doesn’t know how to go about finding it. After kicking his latest boyfriend to the curb, Draco’s at a loss for what to do next, until it occurs to him that a relationship with his fiery (and hot) Gryffindor colleague might not burn out so quickly—if he can just convince Harry to try it.

📻 Into the Unknown [M, 4.5k] 🖋️ Author: @drarrelie

🎵 Summary: It’s been echoing within him for months, like an annoying song that gets stuck in your head and refuses to let go. A nagging feeling in his core, telling him to say something, to do something, to go somewhere. Last night it finally happened. He did it. And it felt good; right. “I can’t be sure.” Four words, easy as that. It had been almost impossible to smother the sudden burst of joy rushing through him as that deep-seated urge rejoiced his unexpected act of rebellion. You’d think the Dark Lord’s punishment would’ve taken the exhilaration out of him, but no. Here he is, countless Crucios later, beaten and bruised, and never has the voice sounded this clear. He’s said something. He’s done something. And now he just has to go somewhere. He has no idea where, but he’s certain it will come to him. All he has to do is get out of here, then trust magic to do the rest.

📻 Home is What We Make of It [M, 20.3k] 🖋️ Author: @monsieur-hadrien

🎵 Summary: "There was a blistering draft from the child’s bedroom on the opposite side of the hallway. The door’s handle was icy to the touch as she wrapped her hand around the metal. Unlike the rest of the house, the door gave her resistance in her effort to open it. Unlike the rest of the house, when she opened the door, she couldn’t imagine anyone ever living there. Unlike the rest of the house, there was neither love nor warmth nor any semblance of life that seeped from the rest of the house’s walls. It was cold and hard and chilled her to her bones. She shivered. However, her sense of dread was not just from the cold. Perhaps it was the gaping hole in the wall." Harry and Draco want to start a family, but time loves parallels.

📻 Move, move [M, 9k] 🖋️ Author: @maesterchill

🎵 Summary: She grabbed Harry’s hand, slipping something small into it and pressing his fingers around it. “Dilectio. It’ll cheer you up. Make you feel like dancing.” Harry gaped at her. Drugs. Ginny’s fucking giving me drugs? At Stasis nightclub Ginny does indeed give Harry drugs. But it's all good: Malfoy looks after Harry, and Harry grapples with newfound enlightenments, not to mention a newfound fascination with all things Malfoy—one which persists, even when he finds out what Malfoy's up to.

📻 Euphoria [E, 66k] 🖋️ Author: @iero0

🎵 Summary: Driven by trauma, Harry cuts ties with friends and family. From crowded nightclubs and enthralling live shows, Harry finds himself stumbling into a superficial world where he's lonelier than ever. When even the constant blithe of substance-induced highs can't prevent things from becoming what he ran away from, Draco Malfoy finds Harry. Draco, who’s wearing Muggle jeans and who’s listening to Muggle music and who suggests having a nice little chat on mephedrone. And whose nose crumples beautifully when he laughs. Or: A story about Harry trying to cope with the help of drugs until he finds a new addiction. Draco likes to mend things.

📻 Your House [E, 2.9k] 🖋️ Author: @tontonguetonks

🎵 Summary: Draco tries to serve Harry divorce papers, but Harry isn't home.

📻 Misery Loves Company [E, 22.9k] 🖋️ Author: vivi1138 / @penguinanimagus

🎵 Summary: Stuck in his own head, misunderstood and lonely, Harry would love nothing more than to stay hidden in Grimmauld Place until the end of time. Malfoy won’t let him, and that's just what Harry needs.

📻 You Sexy Thing [E, 10.6k] 🖋️ Author: shortie990

🎵 Summary: As Harry began to tap his foot along to the music, the lights flashed like lightning in the middle of a summer storm, and his eye went straight to the middle of the dance floor. His eyes zoomed in on Draco. The blond looked striking as he moved his slender hips to the soulful beat. Harry watched, captivated as he pressed himself up to Pansy and began to sing to the song.

📻 A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions [E, 39k] 🖋️ Author: InnerLilith

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco are just friends. Sure, they work together, and live together, and go to gigs together, and do pretty much everything else together—so what? That’s just what friends do. And Harry has no interest in messing with their friendship. He certainly doesn’t need everyone else constantly meddling, pestering them to just get on with it and get together already. He’s having a hard enough time as it is, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably isn’t ever going to find love. But who needs love, anyways, when you’ve got a best friend?

📻 Cup of tea, Love? [E, 15.1k] 🖋️ Author: shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony

🎵 Summary: Things between them are easy, so much easier than Harry expected. The problem is the outside world, which grows increasingly and ridiculously difficult. “We could leave,” Draco suggests. Harry has always wanted to travel.

📻 holemate [E, 18.9k] 🖋️ Author: @vukovich

🎵 Summary: 'Cause I'm sick of losing soulmates So where do we begin? I can finally see you're as fucked up as me So how do we win?

📻 Home is Wherever I’m With You [Gen, 2.6k] 🖋️ Author: persephoneapple

🎵 Summary: Harry plans on proposing to Draco tonight, but it takes a Prophet article and a conversation between Draco and Pansy to realise how much Draco means to him.

📻 When the remembering is done [E, 24.8k] 🖋️ Author: Sassy3 / @sassy-sassy3

🎵 Summary: “–and we’ll make sure that you can stay at home as long as possible before it will be too hard to manage,” Potter finished. Draco could only blink, trying to make sense of the words he had heard before and after he zoned out. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I’m sorry, Potter. Why wouldn’t she be able to live at home?” Draco Malfoy leads a quiet life. Sure, he doesn’t really like his job, and he never imagined he’d have to move back in with his parents at the manor, but at least he has his lovely son Scorpius to dote on. The only problem is that it gets… a bit lonely. But when his mother starts behaving strange and forgetful, he finds himself in need of help from the one person he never reconciled with after the war.

📻 If you smile at me again, I may do something stupid [M, 6.9k] 🖋️ Author: @emilattes

🎵 Summary: Draco made his peace with Harry Potter and their failed relationship two years ago. He's happy with his new boyfriend, but when Harry becomes the man Draco needed him to be, he finds it's much harder to ignore their history.

📻 smoke break [E, 4.3k] 🖋️ Author: saltwatergarden / @talkingtravesties

🎵 Summary: The first few times, they hovered a bit; Draco offered wine and they sat there and sipped and made small talk, until finally Potter would snap and say, “this is stupid,” and reach out to pull Draco into a kiss. After a while, they fell into a rhythm. Sometimes Potter would be in a rush, and he’d just throw himself at Draco the second he was through the door. Other times, he seemed intent on torturing Draco with his slow and teasing kisses. Potter rarely stayed the night, typically Flooing home after they were done, and they never went out, or, for that matter, met at Potter’s place. Draco was very aware of what he was to Potter—a convenience—and despite his pride, he accepted it, because he knew it was the most he was ever going to get from Potter, and far more than he deserved.

📻 4th Day of the New Show [M, 6.2k] 🖋️ Author: @meandminniemcg

🎵 Summary: Lucius, freshly released from Azkaban, shows up at Draco's show. And Harry has been nervous all day. How does Draco handle the situation?

📻 I Want More? [E, 10.7k] 🖋️ Author: @drarryismymuse

🎵 Summary: Draco had successfully avoided British wizarding society for eight years, until necessity drove him to attend a swanky Ministry event. A chance encounter at that event sparks a passionate affair that just might change the course of Draco’s entire life.

📻 Until It All Comes Undone [E, 38.5k] 🖋️ Author: @mystickitten42

🎵 Summary: Following his confrontation with Voldemort, Harry returns from King’s Cross Station completely changed. He wakes up at Privet Drive with no memory of his past, the war or magic. Petunia, widowed and suffering from empty nest syndrome, is only too happy to turn Harry into Dudley 2.0. But something’s not quite right. Plagued by recurring nightmares, Harry can’t help but feel something is missing. A bottle of his cousin’s LSD helps him to forget his worries… Magic may not be real, but the hallucinations and the hot blond he meets all feel pretty magical to Harry. Having turned his back on his family, Draco is determined to start over and do the right thing. But he’s never made good decisions when it comes to Harry Potter. When Potter—presumed dead, but very much alive—unexpectedly returns, Draco will do anything for a second chance. Even if it means pretending not to know who he is…

📻 When the Day Met the Night [M, 5.7k] 🖋️ Author: Albuss

🎵 Summary: When the day met the night, all was golden in the sky. In the middle of summer. The Battle of Hogwarts is through, and Harry, somehow, isn't. Draco isn't either. In rebellion against all they have endured, the two embark on a summer of adventure, seeking an ember of hope in the darkness. What they find is unforgettable.

📻 Born to Drown [M, 3.2k] 🖋️ Author: @floydig

🎵 Summary: Draco drives a Knight Bus in the slums of Paris. Sometimes his passengers remind him of Harry. But Harry left years ago. Now, Harry is married to Ginny, and Draco drives a bus. You laugh. “Sorry, I don't know why I’m laughing. It’s really not funny—your dad being dead and shrivelled.” “Fuck off.” I turn to face you. Your eyes are red, your pupils almost blown. Your skin is grey-tinged and sallow, and you're not the one who’s dead. “Merlin, Potter,” I say, hoarse. “How much bloody Dreamless did you shoot up this time?” “Enough for me to live.” You grin wide. “You want me to be alive, don’t you?” Your raw-bitten lips, your chipped teeth, your fucking mouth. I hate all of them, but really I don’t.

📻 Stop And Stare [T, 36.5k] 🖋️ Author: devilishcries

🎵 Summary: After surviving your everyday war-torn childhood, Harry had found a constant rhythm to his life. The thing is, he didn't quite like it. It was repetitive, dull, and he badly wanted to switch it up. So, when he stumbled upon Draco Malfoy on the verge of committing arson in a muggle library, he proposed a deal neither could refuse. (Well, Malfoy was desperately trying to refuse it. But that wasn't the point!) What he failed to factor in was how pretty Malfoy's hands were. One thing led to another, and suddenly, he was obsessed with the idea of holding them.

📻 Wicked Game [E, 20.9k] 🖋️ Author: @cassiopeiasshadow

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco fall into a spring that allows them to enter into each other’s dreams - but Harry doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, not at first. Why does he keep seeing Draco having kinky sex with a dream version of Harry? And furthermore, why does he like it? Morpheus’ tail twitched irritably. “I warned you away from the poppies. The blame lies with you.” “Me? Potter’s to blame for this, he’s the one who dragged me out to this miserable -” “You would do well not to insult the home of those whom you ask for help,” said Morpheus coolly, though Harry saw a bit of detached amusement in his expression. Malfoy had no self awareness. It’s adorable how stupid he is, Harry thought, and then caught himself thinking Malfoy was adorable and became deeply troubled. “I’m…” Malfoy closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Sorry. Please - I need advice. I can’t keep him out of my dreams.”

📻 Dedication and Desperation [T, 6.1k] 🖋️ Author: meditationsinemergencies / @meditationswrites

🎵 Summary: Diagnosed with a rare and serious illness, Draco has mostly given up until Harry comes to visit.

📻 Famous [E, 23.9k] 🖋️ Author: fwooshy / @fw00shy

🎵 Summary: It's a couple of years after the war, and Harry's bored of models now, the same way he's bored of Ron's constant nagging, bored of his Weasley monogram knitwear, bored of the same fucking grin that greets him when he hands his fire-truck red Bugatti over to the valet every night. He wants to find—well, he isn't sure what he wants. Anything but models. Harry is in the mood for...messy. And Draco Malfoy's looking like a walking disaster in the making.

📻 stitched and sewn [E, 7.9k] 🖋️ Author: @wheezykat

🎵 Summary: Harry shudders, fingertips pulsing against Draco’s thighs. He can feel the sharp, metal edge of Harry’s wedding band digging into his flesh, knows he’ll have a bruise there in the morning, a small imperfection that only he’d be able to see. It’s one of the only marks he’ll vanish, not wanting to think about its implications; the rest he’ll keep for himself. Slowly, Harry relaxes, shoulders sinking, breaths changing their cadence to a new tempo. Resigned, surrendered to this dance they do.

📻 Watch the Castles Burn [E, 21.3k] 🖋️ Author: @moonflower-rose

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy knows better than to get involved with Harry Potter. If only someone would have reminded him of that six months sooner, then maybe he wouldn't be in quite such a large mess.

🎶 H/D Wireless Podfic 🎶

📻 Modern Love [E, 61k, 5h29m] 🎙️ Podficcer: @lastontheboat 🖋️ Author: tackytiger

🎵 tackytiger’s original summary: Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all.

📻 [Podfic] How Can I Live Without You? [Gen, 2.2k, 15min 29sec] 🎙️ Podficcer: Static_Whisper 🖋️ Author: ununquadius

🎵 ununquadius’ original summary: After Draco's death, Harry wonders how can he live without the one he loves when he's so far away.

📻 [Podfic] Keep Holding On [M, 33.3k, 3hrs 37min] 🎙️ Podficcer: @thunder-of-dragons 🖋️ Author: gnarf

🎵 gnarf’s original summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end.

📻 [Podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry [E, 12.7k, 1:27:55] 🎙️ Podficcer: @timothysboxers 🖋️ Author: lettersbyelise

🎵 lettersbyelise’s original summary: Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

📻 [Podfic] You Still Look Like a Movie / You Still Sound Like a Song [T, 3.2k, 19:43 min] 🎙️ Podficcer: bluedreaming / @blue--dreaming 🖋️ Author: shilo1364

🎵 shilo1364’s original summary: Harry Potter doesn't want to attend his ten-year Hogwarts Reunion Ball. He doesn't want to dance. And he *definitely* doesn't want to remember his former lover, Draco Malfoy. Of course, his life has never really been dictated by what he wants.

#REVEALS #Wireless Reveals #hd wireless reveals #hd wireless 2021 #drarry #drarry fic #drarry art #drarry podfic #lil nas x

217 notes · View notes

calumxkisses · 3 years ago

Text

Dancing In The Sky | a.i.

pairing: ashton irwin x reader

genre: fluff to angst

warnings: death (not main characters)

summary: request - Hi!!! It’s very morbid but, I really want one with ash or cal, where they’re in one of the boys house just the boys and their girls, and then the reader receive a call in the middle of the conversation telling someone in her family is dead and she just in shock and she tells them, and the he hugs her and she breaks!!! Thanks

a/n: recently my granny had to be rushed to the hospital and i thought i was going to lose her - luckly it didn't happen. i felt this request particularly close. i always say 'i love you' to my grandma before hunging up on the phone (we live pretty far away from each other) and i thought about what would happen if i forgot to say it, not knowing it would be for the last time. i'm sorry to anyone of you if this triggers you. i love you.

you should read this imagine while listening to: before you go

➳

The light coming in from the window on your right illuminates the whole room, it’s late afternoon but the sun shines almost as if it were noon. The scorching heat has now passed, there is a breeze that cools the air and spreads the scent of the grill in the garden, alternating the scent of grilled vegetables and steaks throughout the house. The pool water is still moving, the inflatable flamingo is wedged near the pool stairs and you can still see the tracks of Michael's wet feet near the diving board.

Halsey's songs are repeated at a low volume, but the guys sing them out loud and a smile forms on your face as you see how they are always ready to support their friends, not only publicly with tweets or instagram stories, but also in private, enjoying music like normal people do.

You hold onto the sweatshirt Ashton gave you as you grab your cell phone from the sofa and put it in your shorts pocket. Your hair is still wet from the shower you just took and it’s leaking few drops of water as you head outside, where your friends are starting to set the table for dinner.

You don't know how it happened, you have vague memories, but you feel grateful to have them around you, to have the opportunity to consider them as a second family, to be able to hug them and to be able to laugh with them. It is a fortune that not everyone has and you make sure you don't waste this opportunity.

“Honey!” Ashton yells, shaking his hand up and looking at you with an amused look. A few tufts of hair fall in front of his face and with one hand he tries to move them back, only to find them in front of his eyes again. His swimsuit is now dry, his chest is red from staying under the sun all day but his tattoos still manage to stand out in the tan and a huge smile covers his face.

Seeing him so happy, confident, at peace with his mind and in love with life, warms your heart and you almost feel like crying of joy in seeing him like this.

You wiped his tears, hugged him under the covers and held him a million times as his demons took over, when mirrors became enemies and food scared him.

You turned off his cell phone every time he read comments about his body and spent sleepless nights keeping him company while he vented his frustration by playing the drums.

You held out your hand to him while accompanying him in his battle against himself, you kissed him as he went through hell and his joy was worth every single tear.

You are proud of him, of the way he went back to wearing his favorite t-shirts and of the way he has come to love all his flaws, even though you're still sure he doesn't even have one.

As you leave the house, a cool breeze passes through your hair and you instinctively close your eyes to be able to appreciate the moment of coolness in the terrible heat of the last few days.

When you open your eyes, amazement takes over your body: the sky is not simply blue like the water in the pool you've been in all afternoon, but pink and orange clouds cover it completely; the sun hides behind them, tinges the sky with more intense colors and you feel your soul leave your body at the sight of so much beauty.

The sunset is so mesmerizing that you don't even feel the need to pick up your phone and take a picture of it, it's so beautiful that you're sure not even the best cameras would be able to capture such a marvel.

It’s a pink and orange sunset, bigger clouds are the backdrop to smaller more intense colors and the skyline of the city is slowly tinged with black, the lights of the buildings begin to see each other more and the world slows down as it prepares for the quietest hours.

The sunset arouses familiar, nostalgic, certainly not typical emotions in you; it’s so beautiful that you feel like you are living a dream, you pinch your arm lightly to make sure you are awake but Ashton's laugh reminds you that it is reality and, with that melody in the background, you understand that the difference between dream and reality is not that big.

And even if it were a dream, you know that dreaming never hurt anybody.

As the sunset surrounds you in a warm hug, a small white butterfly begins to flutter around you, spinning around and bringing a smile to your lips. The insect is small, but in the orange sky it stands out in an important way, making you feel like a Disney princess. You stretch your hand up, raising your forefinger and inviting the little butterfly to lean on it and, without fear, it leans on it, resting its wings and showing itself even more beautiful than you thought.

It’s white but at the corners of its wings it has black spots, its gaze seems to be directed towards you as its antennae move delicately. A sense of awe and wonder makes its way inside of you and you slowly bring the butterfly closer to you so you can admire it better, noticing how safe it continues to feel with you.

“Is everything alright?” Sierra asks as she sets the plates on the table, she's too busy to notice how you seem to be in symbiosis with the butterfly.

“Yeah.” You whisper while the insect continues to stay on your finger, motionless, leading you to feel a sense of peace in the moment you are living.

Suddenly, while the blue sky is giving its space to the dark night, the butterfly takes off and, after making another turn around you, heads towards the sky and merges with the lights of the stars.

You walk back to your friends, still confused about what just happened, and you see Michael trying to move the fire bowl to the corner of the pool. “Mike, if I were you I'd be more careful, you're not the luckiest person when it comes to fire.” You smile and you hear your friends laughing out loud as a grin appears on Michael's face.

“Don't worry, Crystal has seen enough tv shows about doctors to know what to do if I get burned again.” He replies looking at his girlfriend and laughing.

“Shut up and come here,” Crystal responds by pretending to be offended. “Dinner’s ready.” her lips try to hold back the smile that is forming on her face.

You sit on your boyfriend's lap while Luke sets the meat on the plates and Sierra pours the beer into your glass. Ashton pushes your hair to the side and kisses you on the neck, giving you goosebumps and getting winks from his friends.

“You’re terrible.” he replies while looking at them and squeezing his hands on your lap, his head resting on your back while he rolls his eyes and smiles. Everyone burst out laughing and the sound of their laughter still feels like the most beautiful melody to you.

As you are about to take your first bite, your phone starts ringing and vibrating inside the pocket of your shorts. You put your fork down and stand up, being careful not to trip over Ashton's feet as he gives you a questioning look. You give him a kiss on his head and you go away slightly from your group so you can hear better.

Your mother's voice is low as you bring the phone to your ear, a smile forms on your face to hear the sound of her voice but the world collapses on you a few seconds later, when her words become understandable while she cries.

The conversation is short-lived, it is mostly made up of your mother's sobs and words you never wanted to hear. Your mouth opens slightly and your heart seems to stop. And when she closes the call, you have a hard time figuring out if you are having a nightmare or if you are still in reality.

“Was that your lover on the phone?” Calum smiles as you stare at your phone screen as soon as you hang up the call. You look up and see everyone's gaze on you as your eyes start to pinch.

“It was my mother,” you take a deep sigh as you try to find the courage to speak. “My grandmother died a couple of hours ago. She's gone and-” and the words die in your mouth.

Your friends' smiles quickly transform as their brows rise and their eyes lose their light. Crystal is the first to hug you, in less than a second her arms are around you but it's all so surreal that you can't even find the strength to move your body. You hear whispers, but your ears are muffled as Ashton takes the place of your best friend and holds you close to his chest, kissing your hair and whispering words of comfort.

It all happens so fast that you struggle to metabolize, it seems to you that the whole world has stopped or is going too fast, it is hard to try to understand as your mind repeats your mother's words all over again.

You talked to your grandmother the day before, you described to her the weather and you told her all the projects you had in mind, including going to see her as soon as possible. She had told you some stories from her past because she knew how much you loved hearing stories from other times and then you said goodbye to her in a hurry because someone had rang the doorbell.

You didn't tell her you loved her and your heart breaks even more at the realization that she left without knowing the affection you felt for her.

Did she know you loved her? Did she know that she was the most important person to you? Did she know you were grateful for all the sacrifices she had made to make you happy? Did she know you were proud of her? Did she know you loved the way she kissed your hands? Did she know how much you cared about her? Or did she pass wondering if you loved her?

If that were the case, you would never forgive yourself.

Part of you, however, is aware that behind those wrinkles and trembling hands, there were years of wisdom and intelligence and that, even when she was sick, she knew that you loved her unconditionally.

You still remember how she was the one who taught you to ride a bike when your parents were too busy working, how her hunched back bent even more as she pushed you along the street outside your childhood house, letting you go on your own when you learned, while still lying to you about how her hands were attached to the bike, to make you feel protected.

You certainly still remember the way she bragged about you, how she proudly used to tell all the ladies at the grocery store that you were her niece, her greatest joy and the best gift she ever received.

And, if you close your eyes and focus, you can still feel the warmth of the old fireplace in her home, of her hands holding yours while your face was resting on her shoulder. You can still hear the sound of burning wood, of her sweet voice singing melodies belonging to past eras while, between one verse and another, her lips kissed your head and whispered words of love.

Most of all, you have memories of how her arms wrapped around your little body when there was a thunderstorm, when the screams inside your house got too loud and when you saw her again after weeks, with your hearts coming back to beat in unison and your lungs beginning to breathe again.

Now that she is gone, who would be by your side? Who would teach you to cook and sew?

You would no longer hear her heart beating when you leaned against her chest, you would no longer hear the sound of her breaths when you slept next to her, you would no longer wake up with the smell of the flowers she grew and, above all, her dry, wrinkled lips would no longer whisper “I love you” to you.

All the fights, all the moments when you were bothered by her calls and all your snorting about the boredom of being with her bring a pang to your heart that tastes of guilt and arrogance, of shame and wasted moments that won't come back.

She was now gone, her heart had beaten for the last time and her eyes had stopped shining and the more time passes, the more her absence starts to hurt.

While your friends are around you to not leave you alone and Ashton hugs you tightly while caressing your hair, everything seems to start to make sense: the butterfly that just moments before had leaned on your hand, the sunset so beautiful and intense - she was there, she was giving you her last goodbye with all the delicacy possible.

She was reassuring you that she will always be there for you, that she will be in the sunsets under which you will fall asleep and that she will be the butterflies that will fly around in the sky, to reassure you that everything’s gonna be alright.

And with this new certainty and a weight in your chest that will slowly go away, you let yourself go, the tears begin to roll down your face and the sobs echo in the silence of the evening, as the stars light up the sky and God gains a new angel.

Ashton knows it won't be easy, that it will be months before that pain will become more bearable and that family lunches and dinners will be harder, that that empty chair around the table will be a stab in the heart every time.

But he also knows that you are strong, that you will be able to overcome everything, that sadness will turn into a smile when you’ll remember her and that, whatever happens, in a way or another, he will always be there next to you, just like your grandma used to be.

—

#5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin imagine #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin #ashton irwin x you #ashton 5sos #ashton fletcher irwin #calum 5sos #calum 5 seconds of summer #michael 5sos #michael 5 seconds of summer #luke 5sos #luke hemmings

143 notes · View notes