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axelsagewrites · 2 years ago

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Jace Velaryon*Cocky

Pairing: Modern!Frat!Jace x f!reader

Summary: While originally being fast friends Jace ditches the reader to become part of the in crowd at university only to end up right back where he started. TW: Jace being a douche but redeeming himself, swearing, and stoner Heleana ig?

A/N: I saw headcannons for cocky Jace and my mind ran with it so I present cocky Jace.

Word count: 4240

Masterlist Here

Jace Velaryon was almost a legend at Kingslanding University. All his family were alumni of the school who were always making donations and appearing at university events. One of the student halls was named after his dad’s family, the Velaryon Court, and the Dragonstone library was funded by his grandfather and was engraved with his mother’s maiden name. No one was shocked when he pledged to The Fraternity of the Seven or when he became the youngest captain of the rugby team, a position nearly always held by a Targaryen or Velaryon. His cousins were also on the team and Jace, Aegon, and Aemond were always the talk of the school. The only reason he even went to university was to study business so he could take over the family business after his mother. The company that basically employed half of Westeros. It was no surprise that people wanted to be in with the Velaryon-Targaryen Crowd, but you had quickly learned it was far better to avoid them than share their company.

In first year, you shared quite a few classes with Jace and the other Targs, as everyone called them, and at first, he was nice. Hell, you were even kind of friends. He sat next to you in High Valyrian 101 and freshman English and every class he would text you first to see if you wanted a coffee from the canteen. He would genuinely try in class and attended your study sessions you held in your dorm with friends, and he was always the one who would bring the most snacks for people to share.

It had been his father that had encouraged him to join the family frat but even when he first joined it Jace was a normal guy. He didn’t brag when he made the rugby team or when he got into his frat. Something changed though halfway through freshman year. He stopped showing up to study sessions and instead just asked you to send him your notes. You were fine with it at first, figuring he was just busy with all his new activities. Until you realised his new activities was a girl called Sara Snow who made fun of you and your friends at every opportunity. Jace had known this but clearly, he didn’t care as he sat in class with her tongue halfway down his throat.

It only got worse over time. He basically dropped all of the friends he had made when he started and instead hung out with the senior in crowd who were happy to get a Velaryon in their mix. He stopped eating at the Canteen, turning his nose up at the coffee and insisting on ubering Starbucks to class. He was still passing his classes somehow, but you had stopped replying to his texts asking for notes and realised it was the only thing he still asked you about. The down to earth humble guy had died, and a new frat boy cocky athlete had taken its place.

Unlike Jace you had stuck with your first-year friends and now in senior year you were still best friends with them all. Alysanne, Arra, Lynara and you had formed a strong friendship group whom all shared a mutual hatred of the Targs. Well except for one. Heleana Targaryen was nothing like her brothers or cousins and had joined your group a couple of years ago. At first, she seemed so innocent and shy, but you soon realised she was just a massive stoner who had a special interest in bugs and women.

The five of you were sat in the canteen eating lunch when Alysanne brought up the upcoming rugby game, “I have to go so you all have to go and we have to look cute.”

You rolled your eyes knowing exactly why she and Arra wanted to go, “You have an unhealthy obsession with Cregan you know?” you said nodding at the pair who were scrolling through Alysanne’s phone looking at outfits. “He’s not gonna see you when he’s mid game,”

“Maybe but,” Alysanne said with a smirk, “He’s been messaging me. So now we have to go support him and I have to look cute for when I not so accidentally bump into him after when he’s all sweaty and glowing from his win,”

“Aren’t they going up against the Dornish Academy? Aren’t they liking the ones who won the whole thing last year? Or was that someone else. Its hard to keep up when they talk about this crap at dinner,” Heleana said. You couldn’t imagine what it’d be like to have to put up with her family all year round.

“Yeah, but this year’s Jace is captain, so they’ll be way better than last year. Marston Waters was such a loser. And a creep,” Despite her obsession with Cregan, Alysanne did genuinely enjoy and followed the rugby team, something you couldn’t understand why. “He actually seems to know what he’s doing,”

“That’s only cause he’s a Valerian. No offence Hel,” you added, and she just shrugged, “If he wasn’t born with that silver spoon up his ass no one would care about him,”

“I mean yeah he can be douche,” Arra jumped in, “But he’s hot and he’s fit, and he can run really fast,”

You gasped in fake surprise, “Don’t tell me you’re falling for a Targ Arra,” you said as you clutched her arm, “Are you ill? Are you dying?”

Arra swotted your hand away as Helena chuckled to herself, “You’re just mad you fancied him in freshman year and he ditched you for Sara Snow,” Arra said.

You hated that she was right and sighed as you took your hand away. He had gone from being so kind to you to pretending he didn’t know you existed. Or maybe he really forgot about you. It didn’t help that Sara smirked at you every time she passed you in the hallway, clutching onto his arm even tighter the whole of first year.

All of this was clearly new information to Heleana since you had sworn them all to secrecy after freshman year. “You used to like my cousin? That’s so gross,”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered before quickly changing the subject, “So how mandatory is it we go with you tomorrow, Aly?”

“Like 100%. He’s invited me to the after party and told me to bring you all,”

“Cregan Stark knows who we are?” Helena asked.

Lynara snorted at her words, “Dude he’s, my cousin. Plus, everyone knows who you are Helena even if you wanna be a stoner loner so bad,” Helena rolled her eyes but couldn’t even argue with her since her last name was all over campus, “Plus Arra and Alysanne went to high school with me and Cregan. No clue how he knows you though,” she said nudging your shoulder.

“He’s probably just seen me hanging around you guys before or something,” you assumed which seemed to satisfy everyone’s curiosity, “Can’t we skip the game and just go to the party?”

Shock and offence plastered Arra and Alysanne’s faces, “Why do you hate me being happy?” Aly asked and you rolled your eyes, “Do you want me to die old and alone and surrounded by 15 cats?”

“Why 15 cats?” you asked, ignoring her question.

“Oh my god will you just please come to the game? If you come, you can be maid of honour and Cregan and mines wedding?” she offered prompted Arra to shout her protests.

You laughed as Arra continued her rant about how she was supposed to be maid of honour before interrupted, “Fine you have a deal. But know. im only doing this to piss her off,”

“You suck,” Arra deadpanned causing you to laugh more, “But as revenge I get to pick your outfit,” you groaned but not wanting to argue allowed it.

Shockingly her outfit choice for the game was fine but it was the outfit for later you worried about. Instead of worrying you tried your best to ignore the sinking feeling whenever your friends brought up the after party and actually tried to enjoy the game to appease Aly.

When the game was over everyone began to rush either on the pitch to talk to the players or out the stadium to get ready for the after party. You and your friends however were stuck trying not to get knocked down by the crowds as Aly swooped in for the kill. You watched her obvious flirting and hair tossing and arm grabbing. Arra was doing the same with a guy from the sulking Dornish team, but her eye lash batting seemed to put a smile on his miserable face. You watched in awe, “How do they do that?” You asked.

Lynara shrugged and tore her eyes off the rugby boys, “Flirt?” she asked, and you nodded, “I don’t know you just like do it,” she said to which you rolled your eyes at her unhelpfulness, “Its hard to explain. You touch their arm, butter them up, act like an idiot while batting your eyes. All the cliches really. Laugh at all their jokes. That kinda thing,”

“What if they’re not funny?”

Helena snorted as Lynara almost face palmed, “This is why your single,” Helena said, and you swotted her in response, “You can’t just talk to a guy about the history of Valyria and expect him to know that means you wanna fuck him,”

“All you do is talk about bugs,” you said as if it was some kind of defence for your own helpless love life. “Is that why you don’t get any?”

“I don’t get any because I don’t want anyone here,” she corrected, “But clearly you do so spill,”

“No, I don’t!” the warm blood rushing into your cheeks did little to convince the pair who started to laugh at your fluster, “This is why I hate rugby,”

“I’m wounded,” a voice said from behind you, and you quickly spun around to see your least favourite Targs standing there. Jace walked to stand in between you and Helena, draping his arm over both your shoulders but you quickly shrugged his sweaty arm off. “If you hate it, why were you cheering for me?” He grinned, not caring about the rejection or the way you wouldn’t even look at his stupid perfect grin.

“We came for my cousin,” Lynara said, and you’d never been so grateful to have a stark on your side.

Jace looked down at Helena, “What about your auntie? You here for him too?”

She snorted, “Please im here to watch the Dornes tackle my brother,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you looked over to where Aegon was getting checked over by the school nurse for concussion. The boy charged into everything blindly and you were shocked he still had any braincells left.

Jace laugh made you stop yours however, but his attention eventually turned back to you, “So if she came for her cousin and she came for her brother. Who were you cheering for?”

Before you could come up with a response or come back Arra and Aly returned with Cregan in tow, “I was just telling Cregan how we turned you into a rugby fan,” Aly grinned as she brought her future husband over.

Jace’s arm returned to your shoulder and a massive grin on his face, “Oh really!” he beamed, “I thought you hated rugby?” he batted his eyelashes like an innocent child, and you did your best not to hit his perfect face.

Shrugging off his arm yet again, and receiving a questioning look for Arra in the process, you scrambled for a response, “I guess its not as bad as I expected,”

Cregan’s smile unlike Jace’s felt genuine and not mocking, “Hopefully we can turn you into a mega fan by the end of the year. Are yous coming tonight? Who can turn down free punch?” and with that your friends committed you to an evening of drinking, fun, and rugby guys much to your dismay.

You tried your best not to ruin Arra’s and Aly’s moods as you all got ready for the celebration, but Lynara was texting you to make sure you were okay. You didn’t know why the whole thing with Jace still bothered you, but it did. And seeing him act so casually flirty and friendly today out of nowhere didn’t help.

Despite it all you stood outside the Fraternity of the Seven with your girls as you waited to get into the party. This was your first official Frat party, so Arra had insisted you looked the part with a tight short black leather skirt, tights, and long sleeve top. Aly’s had done you hair and makeup to match and it had felt good to get ready like this in the dorms. Despite the modesty of the outfit, you felt exposed as the frat boys at the door let yous in and your good mood was soon diminishing.

Aly’s was gone within seconds to join Cregan at the opposite side of the room and Arra was soon to leave as well to join some other guys. Lynara linked her arm with yours and began dragging you to the drinks table. “Beer or punch?” she asked as she grabbed you a cup and filled it with your choice before handing it to you, “You’ll feel better after you drink something,”

“Or I’ve got weed if you prefer,” Helena offered causing Lynara to roll her eyes.

You laughed as you began to drink the cheap alcohol, “Im good but thanks Hel. Im at least going to try and enjoy this,” and you did. You ended up sitting with Baela, who you still struggled to understand how she was related to Hel, and some of her friends.

You were sat on the arm rest of the couch facing the group with your legs resting in Hel’s lap. You did your best to join in conversation, but it was mainly just a couple words here and there not really knowing what to say so to keep your mouth busy you kept sipping your now third drink. As you were laughing at one of Baela’s stories you felt someone’s toned abs lean against your back. “What’s so funny?” Jace asked and you felt your body tense as he draped his arm over your shoulder.

Baela, who was still laughing filled him in on the story and Jace kept up with the conversation, not even acknowledging the position you were both in. Hel gave your foot a squeeze and looked at you as if to ask if you were alright and you nodded, knowing the scene she would cause if you hadn’t. Jace moved his hand to rest on your other shoulder, essentially locking you in place, and you could feel his smirk burning into the back of your head, but you refused to look at him. With Jace behind you you could feel so many eyes on you and you hated to think what they were thinking. Aly looked over and gave you a puzzled look but got distracted by Cregan as quickly as she looked.

At this point your mind was wondering, thinking of what to do or what was happening when Jace interrupted your thoughts, “You want another?” he said as he took your now empty cup from your hand.

“Huh? Oh yeah sure thanks,” you said and for a second it almost felt like freshman Jace getting you coffee again.

“Be back in a beat sweetheart,” and the thought died as quickly as it entered your head.

As soon as he had walked away Lynara had jumped up from her chair, grabbing your arm and pulling you off the couch with Hel following in tow. “Quick lets escape,” Lynara said as she dragged you to the other side of the room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, im fine I was just like you know,” you said, and she nodded in response, “Isn’t he just gonna come find me?”

“Jace has the attention span of about 10 seconds,” Hel said and for whatever reason it only made you feel worse, “If you want, we can find Aly and Arra and ditch?”

“Nah its fine. I don’t wanna kill their vibe because of freshman stuff,” you said but your eyes were on Jace who was now making his way back to the couch with two cups and a very cutely confused look on his face. It almost made you wanna walk back over but when he looked up and you made eye contact you spun around to face the girls, “Let’s dance or something?”

“You wanna dance?” Lynara said shocked but quickly grabbed your arm dragging you to the dance floor before you could change your mind.

For a few minutes it actually took your mind off it all especially when Arra and Aly’s joined, finally ditching their guys for the evening. You lost track of how long you had been dancing but you were starting to regret not getting another drink, “Im gonna grab a drink be back,” you told Hel who just nodded before continuing her questionable robot dancing.

Once you arrived at the table you quickly poured your drink before deciding to down it and pour another. “Thirsty?” you snapped your head to the side to see Jace who must’ve only just came over. he stood beside you as he poured his own cup, “You wouldn’t have been so thirsty if you had waited for me to get back,”

“Lynara wanted to dance. I got distracted,” The lie slipped easily off your tongue as you began to drink your next drink, to increase the buzz you already had, “I didn’t think you’d mind,”

“I might be a Valerian but even we get offended when girls run away from us,” he said with his cocky grin but this time your buzz made you scoff in return, “What? You think we don’t have feelings?”

you rolled your eyes and briefly debated whether to just walk away but the cheap alcohol had obviously lowered your senses. “No, I think yous are all rich douchebags,” you said and Jace’s jaw slackened as his eyes widened. “Yous are all the same,” you continued despite any logic but you knew your freshman self would be proud, “Your daddy donates a few grand to the school, has your name plastered all over campus, and suddenly you think your mommy’s money somehow makes you the shit,” Jace went to say something but you didn’t stop, “So you ditch all your friends and skip all your classes and pick the bitchiest girls to date. Like seriously yous all chose the same mean girl in a different font its insane. Then you become rugby or football captains and spend all your time partying then take over your family business instead of the people that actually work for it,”

“That’s not fair,” Jace snapped when he could finally get a word in. his face was red, and he looked angrier than he had than during the whole rugby game. “Your barley knows me- “

“No but I do,” you cut him off, “Because you are all the same. And it’s a shame really cause you used to be really cool then you joined this stupid frat and started hanging around with Aegon fucking Targaryen and ditched all your friends to fuck Sara Snow,”

“I didn’t ditch you guys,”

“Im shocked you even remember us,” you snapped, and a silence fell between you both.

You turned back to your drink as Jace stewed in silence, “I didn’t mean to ditch you I just got busy and I-”

“I don’t really care what your excuse is Jace,” you cut him off as you sat your empty cup on the table, “It was fucking hurtful okay? You came to this school normal, and you turned into some Aegon Targaryen 2.0. We weren’t cool enough for you, I get it,” tears began to prick your eyes and threatened to spill but Jace just stood silently with his head hanging down. “I can’t believe I used to like you,” you said, and he suddenly looked up with his eyes wide and a confused look on his face, “Yeah, I know. Trust me to fall for the asshole. I shouldn’t have come tonight,” you said as you started to walk away.

You heard Jace say wait but instead you speed up and pulled out your phone to text Helena that you were leaving because of a sore stomach and began to walk home.

When you were halfway down the street you heard someone running behind you and glanced over your shoulder to see Jace had followed you. You tried to speed up, but he ended up in front of you, “You shouldn’t walk home alone drunk. It’s not safe,”

“Im not drunk,” you said, moving past him.

Jace only followed though, easily keeping pace with you, “Still. I don’t want you to get hurt,”

You snorted, “That’s ironic. What do you just wanna make fun of me? Is that why you were talking to me today? To laugh with your friends about it?”

“Gods you can’t think im that much of an asshole surely?” he asked but you stayed silent, “Look im sorry okay. I shouldn’t have just ditched you it was just like I- “

“You what? You started dating Sara Snow then suddenly I was invisible to you?”

Jace sighed and grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to stop walking despite your protests, “I only started dating her cause you kept rejecting me,”

This baffled you. You felt your head spinning and your whole world being flipped, “I never rejected you? You never even asked me out? What the fuck?”

“Are you serious?” Jace asked and you just shook your head confused. Jace let out a laugh and began to look around, “Oh my gods you’re an idiot,” you went to protest but he cut you off, “I was constantly flirting with you. Like the whole of first year. I got you coffee like every day,”

“Didn’t you get everyone coffee?”

“No!” Jace said and now you were both confused, “I got you coffee and always wanted to hang out and id come to your dorm all the time, but you kept inviting other people with,”

“We were studying!”

“I was trying to flirt with you!” Jace practically yelled as he flung his arms in the air, “I thought you were trying to let me down easy, so I started dating Sara to make you jealous and you didn’t care!”

The weight of it all mixed with the alcohol had hit you like a bag of bricks. “II just wanted you to be happy. I didn’t know,”

“You seriously didn’t know?” Jace had stopped yelling as well and suddenly it was as if his freshman self was standing in front of you. “And if you did know? would it have changed anything?”

It took you a long moment to answer, “I liked you too Jace. I always did. That’s why it hurt when- “

“I know,” Jace stopped you, stepping forward to hold your arms and force you to look at him, “But if you did know. if I had asked you out. Would you have said yes?”

The frat boy was completely gone now. Jace’s eyes bore into yours with a mix of sadness and hope only a puppy could have. His eyes scanned your dumbstruck face for any kind of answer. You didn’t know what to say. Instead, you leaned in without even thinking.

Your lips crashed onto his. It took a moment for Jace to realise what was happening but when he did, he was quick to catch up. His hands slid from your arms to the small of your back to hold you closer. You brought your own arms up to his shoulders holding on to keep your balance as his mouth danced with yours. You couldn’t help but shiver either from the cold or the kiss you couldn’t tell. When you finally broke apart his heavy breath fanned your face, and the heat made your skin tingle.

“I would’ve said yes,” you finally whispered back, and a smile began to tug at Jace’s lips.

He kissed your lips again, this time softer and only for a moment, “I’m sorry for- “

“Being a cocky lil shit?” you chuckled and Jace laughed this time at your insults, “I suppose you deserve to be a bit cocky,”

“Oh really?” Jace asked with a grin as he pulled you in closer, neither of you caring who could see you “Whys that?”

You hummed as your hands moved to his neck to pull his head closer to yours so you could whisper in his ear, “You’re the best kisser at this school,”

“That’s where your wrong love,” Jace corrected you as he moved his hand to your chin to pull your lips close to his so when he spoke, they brushed against yours, “I think you’re thinking of yourself,”

“You wanna have a contest?” You offered and without answering Jace closed the gap yet again. There you were shamelessly making out with the Rugby captain in the middle of the street while a bunch of frat boys started to cheer their captain on from the house. But they didn’t matter. You finally had the real Jace back.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon headcannons #hotd #hotd headcanon #hotd imagine #hotd jace #jace velaryon #jace velaryon imagine #jace velaryon x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #modern jace velaryon #modern jace hotd #modern Jacaerys Velaryon #frat boy jace velaryon

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mulders-too-large-shirt · 6 months ago

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season 1 episode 13 thoughts

A SCULLY EPISODE!!!! i was overjoyed and then i felt deep and immeasurable grief as the minutes went by.

she wants to leave her christmas tree up all year <3 she's a good cook <3 her dad calls her starbuck <3

but her dad is being avoidant! he didn't even say i love you when he left!

! dana scully lore reveal ! her dad lowkey sucks!!!

and then he IMMEDIATELY DIED right after! that is sick and twisted. why do they make my girl endure such pain.

the next note i made for the episode was "omg windows you have to crank!" which was a brief moment of levity among the Sorrow. except even the guy doing the said window cranking was kidnapped right after. still, the novelty of it all!

when scully came into work even though her dad had just died... we see mulder call her "dana" for the first time... she was visibly taken aback by this... and mumbled her name back to herself... my heart was melting out of my body

and when i thought i was going to already collapse from the "dana" moment, he tells her she should take some time for herself and then. softly cups her cheek. and strokes it with his thumb. holy fuck i nearly sobbed. it was the softest thing i have ever seen. what the hell man.

he has this instinctive need to touch her. to use his touch to keep her safe or bring her comfort. it will be psychoanalyzed at a later date from me but for now, know i am noticing the motifs.

(also, when he finally left his office, we see that he kept the hat from the alien obsessed guy in episode 10... good to know this is a man who takes souvenirs. take him to the zoo and see what he comes back with)

so then we cutscene to her dad's funeral and we learn that her father was in the navy- perhaps this is why he is unduly harsh. and then we got ANOTHER scene that beat my heart into a pulp: scully turning to her mom and asking "was he proud of me?" her mom waits for a beat and says "he was your father". HEY! THAT'S NOT AN ANSWER!!!!!!!!!

(who wouldn't be proud of scully? i'm taking names. write them down)

when interrogating the death row psychic mulder once again said "i want to believe" and i once again wrote in my episode notes "HE SAID THE LINE!"

interesting that this is an episode where scully believes and mulder doesn't, almost immediately from the beginning of the episode. but the psychic says stuff her dad would say and therefore she gets emotionally invested even though mulder says it's nonsense, and that this guy is setting them a trap because mulder got him put on death row. and when she listens to the psychic's clue and find evidence at an abandoned warehouse, mulder yells at her for putting herself in danger. to which she said:

"i thought you'd be pleased i opened myself to extreme possibilities"

scully i am REACHING through the screen and telling you i'm proud of you in case no one ever did that before

(and MAYBE mulder yelling at her for putting herself in danger because he thinks he needs to protect her WAS deeply satisfying but still. read the room my king)

(also revealed in this scene: mulder is a jimi hendrix fan. i am tucking this knowledge in my pocket and storing it safely)

then the psychic decided to reveal some of her personal memories and we learn she stole a cigarette when she was 14 and she thought it was disgusting but she wanting to do something they would disapprove of. and she was so scared but so excited. are you kidding me? are you absolutely kidding me. the need to rebel from an assigned role in which she feels she MUST be perfect has haunted her from a young age, and when she finally did something her parents really disprove of- joined the FBI instead of working as a doctor- she's met with rejection. so now we know she's had this terrible need to do what pleases those she loves and to break that is a rush from its inherent moral Wrongness. the isolation of being the Good Child who does what She's Told vs. the isolation of being the Less Good Child who loses their parent's approval. that terrible ache of knowing you once pleased them and now you don't. the conditional nature of affection. ohhhhh good lord.

later mulder gets shot and scully thinks the psychic lured him into a trap which leads to her screaming at him (like SERIOUSLY screaming) that if mulder dies, she'll kill the psychic herself. now this was especially crazy because we have only at this point seen her yell once before which was in episode 8, but this was 10x that intensity. also wild for revealing that she will kill anyone who hurts mulder. once again i say holy FUCK.

mulder is wheeled in to the hospital and still telling her not to believe him, says that he's luring her into another trap. at this point i was yelling "TELL MULDER HE KNEW ABOUT YOUR DAD!" but she was too deep in the grief to bring it up

(throughout the entire episode she is hallucinating her dad in places he isn't, which is arguably far more impactful than just seeing her cry)

when the psychic reveals the location of the murderer and they go to check it out, scully straight up shoots the suspect. she is NOT playing around, y'all. i think this is the first time we see her shoot someone, which is already a lot to unpack. but then she doesn't follow the killer because the psychic had warned her against it and in this way he saves her life.

then she says thank you to the psychic, who says "come to my execution and i'll give your father's message to you" and she DOESN'T GO. mulder asks her why, because now he seems to think that psychic dude really WAS telling the truth, and she no longer does:

"why can't you believe?" "because i'm scared"

she's scared!! she's scared to believe. she's scared to know what is out there and she seemed scared to know what her father had to say. isn't there enough uncertainty in this world ruled by facts and science? what could the possibilities be like beyond that? why believe in what you cannot control? she says she knew what he would say because "he's my father". is that enough for her? or was she too frightened to hear that he wasn't proud of her?

overall i've said "holy fuck" like a LOT during this recap and i truly feel that those are the only words i have for the situation. getting to see more scully lore was EXACTLY what i was hoping for and i'm so pleased but also so so so sad. like she keeps her christmas tree up and she's a good cook and she has this terrible need for her father's approval that he won't give and then he goes and dies. i need about 10 beach episodes to make up for the sadness here. chris carter i'm in ur walls.

#also: mulder is acts of service/touch love language coded and i'm thinking words of affirmation for scully #like i know the whole love language model is problematic but if i see it i'm gonna say it. sorry.#geez i feel like i need a nap after that. what the fuck. my sweet poor scully.#i felt her becoming a character i am going to stan for the rest of my life during this #oh did i see a bit of myself in her? MIND UR BUSINESS!!!#juni's x files liveblog #txf #the x files #dana scully #<- adding that tag because i did a LOT of character analysis here and moving forward i'll maybe make those their own posts #once i have more of the show under my belt i'll do my character analysis posts like i do on my main for sylvie #haven't done it in a while on main though because i hated loki s2 lmao not much to work with!

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fandomwriterstuff · 3 years ago

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A Seat at the Round Table (2)

Mob!Stucky x Female Reader

Rated T

~1.6k words

Ever since your mishap with your father a few days ago he had kept an extra watchful eye on you. Or rather, an extra set of eyes that went by the name Lemar. Lemar and John were apparently old buddies. You were used to John’s presence, although it was grating. Lemar was a new variable. He was funnier and more lighthearted than John, but still took his job looking after you very seriously.

That was how you found yourself out at a Starbucks sitting by yourself sipping on a pink drink with raspberry syrup, trying to ignore the two men in all black standing at the corners of the room.

“You look lonely, sugar,” a slightly familiar voice came from behind you and you tilted your head to see Sharon approach right before she slid into the seat across from you, hands curled around a steaming cardboard cup. You sighed. You supposed if you couldn’t interact with normal people you may as well learn to interact with your father’s colleagues.

“You’re very observant,” you muttered sarcastically.

“Hard to make friends with those two knuckleheads following you around, yeah?” Despite your initial hesitance, you were desperate for human contact and girl talk. So you threw your hesitation out the window and leaned your elbows on the table in front of you.

“You wouldn’t believe the last time I had a friend to hang out with. These guys do background checks on every person I interact with and almost nobody makes the cut. I had to stop attending yoga because one of the regulars had a public indecency charge from his college days,” you rolled your eyes at your father’s (and bodyguards’) antics, and the woman in front of you let out a light laugh.

“I’m glad they haven’t tried to come remove me from your presence then,” she huffed and you sighed.

“I assume it’s because my father knows you. Usually it’s just John but now Lemar is also guarding me. So it’s even harder now,” you took a sip from the straw and savored the tangy sweetness of the drink.

“That might be because of me,” Sharon didn’t even look abashed, only slightly apologetic as she looked up at you from under curled lashes.

“Why would you think that?” You wondered aloud, an insistent nagging feeling nudging at your brain. It was saying Sharon might be dangerous and you should avoid her… But you were wild with wanting emotional connection and verbal communication with another person who wasn’t being paid to be around you.

“Well I told my bosses about you, and now they’re intrigued. They want to meet you,” her eyes sparkled and you got an anxious bubble in your stomach at the thought of the mysterious Arthur and Merlin wanting to meet you.

“Why would they want to meet me?” The words tumbled out of your mouth and Sharon turned her shark grin on you.

“When I told them how lovely you were, they couldn’t help but be curious. When I told them you were blissfully unaware of your father’s criminal activity, they were even more interested,” Sharon watched as you paled, taking a shaky sip of your fruity drink.

“Criminal activity?” You asked once you had wet your dry mouth. Sharon took a sip of her drink and nodded, looking down at you with what you imagined was false pity. You were sure she was toying with you.

For once, you wished your guards were a bit closer.

“You see he stole from the bosses. He stole a lot of money from them,” Sharon paused and you had a feeling she was gauging your reactions and watching you very closely.

“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” you whispered meekly. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” You tried to subtly make eye contact with John or Lemar but they were out of your vision and you ended up locking eyes with Sharon again.

“Of course not, darling. I know you’re innocent. And the bosses wouldn’t want me hurting you to get to him,” you narrowed your eyes at that last sentence. You didn’t know anything about Sharon, her bosses, or their morals. You knew your father was not a great man, and you were now fearing that that was coming back to bite him… and you.

“Don’t get up.” So, Sharon was watching you. She saw you fidgeting. “Not yet.”

“What do you want from me?” You tried to keep your voice from quivering, but you weren’t sure if you succeeded.

“Look, I’m going to be straight with you. Your father stole money from some of the most powerful people in the city, and he has to give it back. If he can’t, or wont…” Sharon trailed off and tilted her head, catlike.

“I understand,” you muttered. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I like you, Y/N. I’m offering you to stay at my place until your father’s business is settled. It might not be safe in your home right now.”

“You frighten me, Sharon,” you had finished your drink, but you wished you had something to fidget with other than the sleeves of your fluffy winter coat. “I feel a lot like your offer is sending me from the frying pan into the fire.”

“And you are brave to admit you’re scared. I admire that about you. But remember that you shouldn’t cower in the face of your fear. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” You scoffed at her words.

“I don’t think Nelson Mandela was talking about moving in with threatening strangers and ditching my armed guards when he said that,” you replied and Sharon rolled her eyes.

“Fine, if you’re going to be scared you can at least be smart about it. Think about your options. Call me at this number tonight if you want a ride over. You’ll want to pack for a few days,” Sharon handed you a piece of paper with a telephone number scratched onto it in clean writing, and went off into the crowds waiting outside the Starbucks.

You spent the day in your thoughts. The entire drive home and throughout your afternoon tasks you couldn’t get Sharon off of your mind. Would there be a hit out on your dad? Was your house even safe? You glanced at the clock. Four and forty minutes. You still had time before your father was back. Lemar was taking an early meal break, which meant only John was waiting outside your bedroom door.

Quiet as a mouse, you grabbed the largest duffel bag you could find and stuffed it with a few outfits, pajamas, and toiletries from your en suite bathroom. Gnawing on your lip, you debated whether or not you were making a rash decision.

“The brave man conquers his fear, the brave man conquers his fear, the brave man, fuck it!” You dialed the number Sharon wrote down and waited while it rang.

“That you, sweetheart?” her voice lilted upwards. She was pleasantly surprised to hear from you.

“It’s me,” you whispered. “John is just outside my room and Lemar is on break. But I think you’re right that I need somewhere to stay and lay low for a little.”

“I’m sending a good friend of mine to get you, I’m a little busy with the bosses at the moment. He goes by Sam Wilson, I trust him with my life. I’ll send you a picture of what he looks like.”

“But how will I get out without John noticing?” You hadn’t sneaked out ever without the assistance of a guard. Without one you weren’t sure if you could do it.

“What does your bedroom window face?” You could hear Sharon typing away, likely messaging Sam Wilson to be on his way.

“It’s south-facing, towards the street.” You eyed the window in question, the drapes looking awfully delicate to make a rope with.

“Open it, when Sam gets there throw your bag down to him first. He’ll get it into the car. Use your fitted sheet and top sheet to make a longer rope and you’ll have to shimmy down. Think you can do it?” You nodded hesitantly before realizing she couldn’t see you and you muttered a nervous affirmation. “He’ll be there in five. Be ready.”

With that, Sharon hung up and you rushed to rip your sheets off and tie the corners into a knot. You went about fastening it to the bottom of your bed frame before opening your window and looking down the two stories to the grassy yard below.

“The brave woman conquers her fears. The brave woman conquers her fears. The brave woman-” You were cut off by your phone vibrating. A quick glance showed an unknown number, but you answered it anyway.

“Hello?” You asked, voice low to avoid alerting John.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” the voice on the other end was smiling, you could tell, and when you looked out of your window to see Sam WIlson standing below with his phone to his ear, you could see that he was grinning.

You made quick work of throwing your duffel down to him before climbing down your precarious makeshift rope.

“You doing okay?” Sam asked as you hurried towards his car, bag in hand.

“Could be better,” you mumbled and he let out a chuckle as he got into the driver’s seat and sped off down the street.

“You’ll feel better once we get to Sharon’s. She got pizza and margs. We’ll keep you safe.”

“Safe,” you muttered. Safe was a luxury you weren’t sure you’d feel again in the near future.

Part 1 Part 3

NGL I don't know how to do a taglist, sorry my dudes

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liyawritesss · 3 years ago

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Ｋ／ＤＡＧｅｎｅｒａｌＨｅａｄｃａｎｏｎｓ

Characters: K/DA! Akali J. Tethi, Evelynn, Kai’Sa, Ahri

Genre: Headcanons

Synopsis: My take on the girls of K/DA!!

Warnings: some cursing, mentions of weapons (kunais in akali’s section)

A/N: After being obsessed with Arcane, K/DA has become my new hyperfixation. And I barely see any content for these girls, so I think it’s time we change that.

ᴀʜʀɪ

Material gorl!!!

Ahri isn’t labeled “The Queen” of K/Da for nothing. She has the looks, attitude and aura for it.

I feel like she still has a bit of childlike curiosity to her despite her elegance. Imagine her going shopping and she finds herself in a kids toy store like Build-A-Bear or something, exploring the different kinds of bears and what not

Is legally required to live in the Dior store

Has everyone's starbucks orders memorized to the T, even Evelynn’s despite her purposefully making it so complicated to get a rise out of people.

Her and Evelynn have roast sessions - Ahri once called evelynn ‘mother gothel’ and was then promptly chased around the girls shared condo for 15min straight

She hates the name ‘princess’ because it’s always been used in a condescending tone towards her. She might even curse you out for using it if she’s angry enough

Does a lil happy dance whenever she has her favorite candy, a lil shaky shake in her seat or a wiggle of the hips if she’s standing up.

Has an insane amount of expensive ass loose leaf teas that she drinks on bad days to help herself feel better. A cup of some white tea and a good book near the window while its storming? That’s heaven for Ahri right there.

Legally cannot say fuck, Evelynn will pop her mouth for it

ᴇᴠᴇʟʏɴɴ

She did not sign up to be the surrogate mother of three mentally 5 year old adults

Ready to pop off at any creeps who get too close to the girls. See those claws on her fingers? They’ll go right in your gut, back tf up before you get smacked tf up

Also legally required to live in the Dior store. Scratch that, she OWNS Dior at this point

I feel like she sometimes has a hard time sleeping. Maybe like borderline insomnia or something like that. She wakes up in the middle of the night sometimes, no provocation. In cases like that, she takes to just sitting near the window and looking out at the sky above, thinking.

Can and will steal some of Ahri’s expensive ass tea to relieve her nerves a bit.

Has a very elaborate system for her make up and will scold to death anyone who fucks it up. Her vanity is her own little world and she notices indiscrepancies immediately

Once, Akali saw a new eyeliner that Evelynn bought and wanted to try it out super bad but the other wasn’t home, so she used it and put it back exactly in the right place

But when Evelynn came home to put away her new products, this woman saw that the tube was turned in an off direction and damn near went on a rampage

Akali fessed up quick and got scolded, but by the next day the same eyeliner was set pretty in a little bag on the counter near her plate of breakfast for when the rapper woke up

She made the mistake of letting her curiosity slip abt Akali’s bike, and was instantly dragged to ride it with her. Poor Evelynn was traumatized,

She does have several fast cars but they all had roofs on them, so having the wind whipping against her hair and the pressure of flying against it was very new to her.

She’ll never admit she liked it way more than she let on. Her search history totally doesn’t show searches of brand new motorbikes in jet black and magenta

ᴋᴀɪ'ꜱᴀ

She is always in some kind of movement. Head bobbing, hip swaying, foot taping, you name it, this girl is always on point with her rhythm

This girl is also way too fucking fast for no reason. And quiet with it too!!

Akali remembers walking past the kitchen where Kai’Sa was, plopping herself on the couch, and exactly 10 seconds later Kai’Sa was peering over her shoulder asking what the younger girl was looking at

Poor ‘Kali almost had a heart attack, dropping her phone on her foot in the process

Because of this they often joke about Kai’Sa getting a bell or something to notify people of her presence because if not, they’ll never know where she is and when she’s coming

Kai’Sa is kind of like one of those cats thats been socialized around dogs most of their life, so she’s very quiet and stealthy but also energetic and eager in a sense.

Is an absolute menace in the practice room - strives for nothing but perfection for her and her group members. Mediocrity is not cute to her.

She is constantly studying dancing from different sources, cultures, etc. She’s also always on top of the latest trends on tiktok. She’ll drag Akali and Ahri to do tiktoks with her, and plays harmless pranks on Evelynn and records her reactions to things.

Which gains her playful hits and minor scoldings from the older woman.

Also makes ‘day in the life’ videos and does little skits with the members to different sounds, or to sounds she’s made herself

ᴀᴋᴀʟɪ

Depending on what she was doing the night prior, Akali is not a morning person. She can barely function before noon, much less at 7am when their agency calls for meetings or for early morning practice.

Ahri once knocked on her door to give her breakfast, was met with two loud ass thuds against the door. She opened it to find that on the back were two golden kunais, and on the bed, a very grumpy and sleep deprived Akali with a pillow over her head, practically growling for her to leave

It was her fault, she was up playing League till like 2am knowing damn well she had to be up early as shit, but still!!

Ahri no longer knocks on her door for anything for that particular reason

Sometimes everyone forgets Akali grew up in a dojo, even herself. And then there are times where certain situations make sense given how she grew up. Take the instance above - who in their right mind has literal kunais on their bedside table? Gold kunais, to be exact?

Akali has gotten so confused in response to her fast reflexes, and then remembers growing up in an environment where she was taught to be alert always

Streetwear streetwear streetwear streetwear streetwear streetwear-

Lives for a good sweatset, her closet is practically filled with hella nike and adidas joggers and sweaters. A bit of a sneakerhead as well, has the whole bottom wall of her closet lined with those plastic stackable containers to keep her fresh kicks in

Akali is damn near a master of both her masculine and feminine energies, and hardly gets offended when people try to come for her saying she’s too manly. She has no time for misogyny and fragile egos.

She’s the youngest, the main/lead rapper, and the lyricist of the group - so she sometimes lets the stress get to her. The others comfort her in various ways to let her know she’s doing a good job. She’s still working on balancing work and self care

Random tiktok quotes as fast as she can come up with them. Evelynn has been so close to deleting the app off her phone so many times that it’s a bit embarrassing. Another pair that chases each other around the condo

Overall very chaotic, golden retriever energy from this one. Don't let her get coffee unless you want it to quadruple

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don't be shy to send a request!

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dameronology · 4 years ago

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you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

#why am i low key in love with katie?#i want a tall woman who smells of strawberries :(#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers fluff #avengers angst #avengers imagines #avengers imagine #marvel imagines #marvel imagine

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interlunium-opus · 3 years ago

Text

Enhypen as your Best Friend: Jake edition

Is so kind, caring and selfless that he makes you feel like the spawn of evil or something.

“Jake, what the hell? You have all these cards, you could have won instead!” You shriek when you flip his cards over and discovered that he had enough +4 UNO card to flip the game over.

“Yeah, but you’d have to pick up like 20 extra cards,” he shrugs, picking up the cards to reorganize them.

“So?”

“Well, I don’t want to do that,” he mumbles before shooting you his signature megawatt smile, “Not to you at least. 10/10 would do it to Ni-Ki though.”

Always keep you at the forefront of his mind.

When he’s at the coffee shop: “Oh, I bet she hasn’t had her coffee yet,” and then he goes on to order you your usual.

When he’s at the bakery: “Oh, I bet she hasn’t had her lunch yet — gotta get her something,” and then he goes on to buy a selection of your favorite pastries.

When he’s shopping, “Oh, she really loves clothes like this — I’ll just get it for her.”

When he passes by a bookstore, “Oh, that’s the kind of book she likes,” then he quickly disappears into the bookstore to get it for you.

“What are you? Her mum?” Sunghoon would often complain as he is always the one being made to wait while Jake is busy getting you stuffs.

Quality time with him would consist of activities like baking nights; picnics; volunteer sessions and so on. Being the selfless lad he is though, he’d always take it upon himself to do the majority of the hard work (though he’ll slot in a chance to brag about himself in between especially if it concerns his strength or skills).

“Oh gosh, this is why restaurants and bakeries exists,” you complain as you rolled the dough for the umpteenth time.

“Let me,” he set down the cream he was mixing, offering to take over.

“Dude, no — you’re more exhausted than I am from your soccer practice, I have absolutely no right to compl-“

“Aww don’t worry about it. You’ve been studying all night too,” he assures, pulling a chair and beckoning you to sit down instead, “besides, I have the strength of like a hundred men so yknow things like these are peanuts for me,” he snickers.

Boi is flirty as heck though. Thank God, you have ice in your veins. Otherwise, you’d be catching feelings quicker than you can spell out his name.

“Do you want anything?” He asks as you guys stand in line at Starbucks.

You shook your head, “Nah, not a fan. I like Coffee Bean better.”

"Oh we can stop by later then," he suggests.

"It's fine Jake, we've already passed it by earlier."

Then suddenly after disappearing for some 15 minutes to allegedly take a call outside, Jake returned, oddly out of breath, with a Coffee Bean paper bag, filled with your usual coffee order.

“Dude! Coffee Bean is like what almost 8 minutes away by walk?! That's like a 16 minute return-trip or something...”

“Less if you run," he winks, “Come on, for you — anything."

Then as per his habits, he’d bite his lips as he grins.

Or that other time, during one of your baking nights:

“You know if you’re tired you can always cancel our baking night right?” You suggest as you unlock the door to your apartment.

“No way — it’s like our weekly ritual. Also it’s like therapeutic for me, a respite from all those rowdy boys at home; rowdy boys at practice and my hectic lifestyle,” he posits, placing the groceries, which he had insisted to carry, up onto your kitchen counter, “unless of course you’re tired? Then of course we can-“

“Never as tired as you’re supposed to be though — if you say so, then sure.”

“Aww,” he coos, “Seriously, if you’re tired, I’ll take over tonight.”

“No way, you’re always taking up my share of work, I feel like a freeloader.”

“Oh come on, freeloading is when it’s one-sided. We aren’t like that.”

“You must really like baking huh?”

“I mean yeah but actually, it’s not the baking per se that I love the most from our baking nights,” Jake murmurs as he help you unpack the groceries, “it’s being with you that I love the most. That’s the therapeutic part, you; making things together with you; making things for you; —“

You stopped unpacking and stare up at him, wondering what have you done so far to even deserve Jake. He stares back at you, beaming widely, “basically you.” ((Yeah he bit his lips after that))

As if there’s gravity, his hands are somewhat always on you whether it is an arm over your shoulders; his hand holding yours whenever you guys cross the road; his hand reaching yours whenever you just put a hand up to wave at him in the hallway; all the tackle hugs he does whenever he sees you; resting his head against your shoulders; and the list goes on (nothing you’re uncomfortable with though). No wonder the girls are always shooting glares at you — he’s always acting as if you guys are dating.

“Gosh, get a room!” Jay would always scream whenever he's around you two and Jake starts to get all clingy and handsy.

A good exemplary student but for you, just for you, he can make some sort of light concession. For instance, if you doze off in class, he’d cover your back.

“Oh crap, I dozed off didnt I?”

“A bit,” Jake whispers back, “Go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up once he starts moving around the hall,” he winks.

“Nah I shouldn’t, I’ve already missed out a whole page of notes,” you sigh when suddenly Jake pushes his book towards you, “Got you covered girl, don’t worry. Just get another 5 minutes of shut-eye alright? I know you pulled up an all-nighter last night.”

“I wish you’re as lenient to me as you to her,” Ni-Ki grumbles beside him.

Jake scoffs, “Nah not you bruh — you deserve being found out when you’re napping when all you do at night is playing games with Heeseung.”

Would excitedly wave at you, or send a flying kiss at you if he feels daring, during his soccer matches whenever he spots you in the crowd.

Playfully competitive in a very annoying way. “Hey, bet you can’t run faster than I can..." / “Hey, bet you can’t finish the homework within an hour..." / "Hey, bet you can’t squat more than I do...” — it’s ok though, you thought, ‘cus no human is perfect, he has to have a flaw especially when his selflessness is inhumanely off the charts.

Your study buddy! You guys are always either in the library, the class or at each other’s places — mostly to study (if you guys aren’t having your non-study-related quality time, that is). Of course, he’d get competitive eventually, “hey, bet you can’t solve question 12! I got it in just what 3 minutes?”

Boi is a coward but he would brave through anything for you (at least *try* to). That's how everyone knows you're his soft spot.

"Jake, you hate horror movies.”

“But you love the Conjuring series”

“Yeah, but I can just watch it alone. You don’t need to accompany me to the theatre for this.”

“Nah, why would I do that to you? Come on have some faith in me — horror movies are nothing.”

and then you found out from a trusted informant (Jungwon) that Jake couldnt sleep without the lights on for 1 week straight after that.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen scenarios #kpop scenarios #enhypen fluff #jake sim #enhypen drabbles #enhypen jake scenarios

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ggukiepie · 3 years ago

Text

just a feeling

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you're busy doing president-y things (jungkook's words, not yours) and your best friend's there to help you out like he always does

tags: bil!couple, college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, two idiots in love, some fluff, oc is student council president so we stan, pet names

warnings: cursing, some mentions of skipping meals but nothing serious

wc: 1.8k

a/n: yes another one shot for this couple !! this can be read as a stand alone but i have other one shots you can read which you can find in my masterlist

You’re standing on your toes to make sure the banner you’re holding isn’t crooked. It’s probably not the safest to be on a ladder while tiptoeing and add the fact that the person down below holding the ladder isn’t really paying attention.

“Tae,” you call out without looking down. You squint your eyes at the banner, turning your head from side to side. Maybe you should’ve placed it higher? But then it might not be that noticeable so high up—

“Hm?” he replies, but his voice seems far off. Finally, you look down to see Taehyung holding the ladder with one hand, and in the other he’s typing on his phone.

You roll your eyes. “You’re not even paying attention,” you say exasperatedly. You’ve been up since 7 AM, running around school to make sure the preparations for the job fair are going smoothly. It’s almost 12 in the afternoon now and you haven’t had a single bite to eat. You just want this day to end. “Taehyung!”

He snaps his head up, eyes suddenly wide at the array of decorations and banners that are hung up. By the surprised look on his face, you’re positive he hasn’t been paying attention at all since you started. “Sorry,” he breathes out. “One company just came in late—”

“But they were supposed to arrive two hours ago!”

Taehyung widens his eyes in alarm. He’s known you for two years and has been working with you for one, so he pretty much knows the signs of your oncoming outbursts. “It’s fine.” He starts speaking again before you start shouting. You’re not mad at him, never have been, but you’re stressed and tired and hungry and you haven’t sat down in five hours. “Someone just has to assist them to their booth but everyone’s busy right now—”

“Just go.” You wave him off. You do not want things to be delayed even further and if it meant sacrificing your safety on the ladder, then so be it.

“Got it,” he says as he brings his phone to his ear, walking away without even glancing back at you. You sigh and turn back to the decorations. Yeah, the right side is definitely off. You huff and stretch out your arm hoping to get a hold of the right corner. It’s too far so you lean to the side to reach it. The ladder starts shaking but you don’t pay it any mind. You just need to finish this so you could go to the auditorium to check the stage design then—

“Hey! ___!”

You turn your head towards the voice just in time as you feel the ladder slam against the wall it’s leaning on, shaking every bone in your body. You look down suddenly and see Jungkook, whose got two hands holding the ladder tightly.

“What the fuck, ___,” he breathes out. “Why isn’t anyone holding the ladder? This is dangerous.”

You haven’t noticed your heart’s been racing. You hardly even noticed you were about to fall, but the look on Jungkook’s face says otherwise. “Sorry,” you whisper. You try to calm your racing heartbeat. “I just—” You breathe out. “I just needed to—”

“Come down,” he says, voice so quiet that you’re immediately complying, legs climbing down the ladder and Jungkook’s hand on your waist to guide you. Once you’re back on the ground again you turn to face him.

“Sorry,” you say, voice firmer now. “I just needed to get this done and Taehyung was the one helping but he needed to help set up a booth and—”

“Hey, hey,” Jungkook says as holds your hand in his and squeezes your fingers. Instantly, it calms you down. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”

You look into his eyes and nod, feeling at ease now that he’s here. Jungkook just has that effect on you, really. Plus you’ve known him since high school so he really knows how to ease your nerves. You clench your eyes shut and focus on the feel of his skin on yours, his thumb rubbing the outside of your palm, his big hands encasing your small ones. You’ve been working on this project for months now. You have a team and the rest of the student council to help you, sure, but all the ideas and planning came from you. So it’s been stressing you out. Good thing Jungkook’s been there to help you if needed, always giving you food and snacks and reminding you to take a break every once in a while. You’re sure you wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for him.

“You okay now, ___? We can grab some lunch if you have the time,” Jungkook says quietly.

You open your eyes and smile at him sheepishly. He instantly glares at you (but it’s the cute kind, the one where he wants you to think he’s mad but he isn’t). A pout forms in his face and he lets go of your hands. You miss the warmth instantly.

“Let me guess, you haven’t eaten a single thing all day haven’t you?”

You nod your head and Jungkook groans, throwing his head back dramatically as if he’s been told he can’t play soccer anymore.

“You shouldn’t forget to eat, ___. Food is important,” he huffs. “And it makes you less grumpy.”

You roll your eyes at him and turn to walk back to the ladder again, but Jungkook grabs your hand to make you face him.

“How about this, I’ll hold the ladder while you finish that sign, then we go for lunch.”

A million different things suddenly enter your mind. You still need to check the booths, then the auditorium, and then the registration area. You open your mouth to protest but Jungkook raises both his hands to stop you.

“We’ll only eat for twenty minutes and then you can go back to doing your President-y things.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest and Jungkook smiles, knowing you’re about to agree.

You point a finger at him. “Twenty minutes only. And you’re buying me coffee, too.”

He puts his hand on his chest and looks shocked, as if you’ve said the most offensive thing to him. “Baby,” he starts, and you know he’s saying it as a joke but it still makes your heart flutter. Makes that little seed of hope in you grow a little bit more. But you know Jungkook’s just a natural flirt and that he calls you that from time to time as a joke.

(At least that’s what you keep telling yourself)

He’s smiling so widely now, teeth on display with his dimples fully showing. He’s smirking a bit, too, and you can’t lie to yourself and say he doesn’t look absolutely dreamy right now. You know that look oh too well because it’s the one he uses when he’s flirting. With other girls.

“I buy you coffee all the time,” he says. “Whether you ask for it or not.”

And you know that’s true. Jungkook knows your love for coffee—and your favorite order at Starbucks—as much as he knows his favorite soccer players. He buys you coffee before he picks you up from class. He even buys you coffee when he randomly decides to drop by the student council office, which is partly given as a bribe to use the printer in there for free instead of paying for the printing services in campus.

You try to push him away but he only catches your hand to bring you a bit closer to him. Your bodies aren’t touching but you’re close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him.

Oh, you’re playing a very dangerous game, Jeon Jungkook.

You try to calm the beating in your heart and hope you aren’t blushing. Instead, you roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, you do. Now let me get this finished so we can eat.”

Jungkook holds the ladder while you finish decorating the banner, and from time to time he’d give his comments about the placement. You’re grateful for the help and finish ten minutes later. You’re pouting at him to return the ladder (which he does because he can never say no to you when you’re pouting) and finally you’re both making your way to the cafeteria.

True to his word, Jungkook makes sure you don’t take too long to eat. But he also makes sure you’re eating enough as well. He’s usually chatty when you’re eating together but he’s pretty silent now as you munch on your food. You’re distracted anyway, fingers busy typing on your phone as you’re responding to all the messages you haven’t checked yet. Jungkook’s used to this, of course, so he’s watching some anime highlights on his phone like he always does when you’re busy with President-y things (his words, not yours).

After eating he’s walking you to the auditorium, large coffee in your hand and a cookie in the other since he insisted you need to eat some more. Once you’re by the entrance, Jungkook suddenly stands in front of you, shoulders straight and feet together. “Good luck, Madam President.” He salutes and you roll your eyes in return.

“You’re honestly such a fucking dork.”

He smiles that bunny smile you adore. “You love me anyway,” he says and you choose not to reply. “Anyway, I’ll get going to class now. See you later at practice?” he asks.

He means his soccer practice and you nod your head quickly. You watch his practices most of the time anyway, but you think he just wants you there because you always have snacks for him and also so he can show off his tricks to you. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Now go before you’re late!”

“See you later, cutie.”

Again, it’s one of those pet names he calls you as a joke. You glare at him. “Seriously, Jeon, what’s with all the nicknames?” You might just throw the cookie at him to make sure he doesn't see you blushing.

He shrugs but he’s got that boyish smile on his face. Finally, he starts walking away. You watch his back for a bit but he suddenly turns around, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Because you look really cute today, cutie.”

You frown at yourself and look down at your outfit, eyeing the sweats and big shirt you’re wearing today for comfort. You’re pretty sure you’re sweating a lot and your hair’s a mess. You look up and shake your head to yourself while you make your way to the auditorium, wondering why in the world Jungkook would think you look cute today out of all days.

It doesn’t help slow down the beating in your heart, however, and you find yourself smiling the whole day.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble #college jk #college jungkook #jungkook fic #mine #writing #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts one shot #bts drabble

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janaeekook · 4 years ago

Text

.Crimson lace.

pairing: bestfriend!seonghwa x reader (f)

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

word count: 4.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How did you-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Excuse me I am a wonderful driver."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Arachnophobia is a very real thing, Seonghwa."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who else?" You snorted

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are we really fighting about pancakes and waffles?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That was an hour ago."

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

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

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

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

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

"No- no hwa."

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

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

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

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

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

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Make me feel good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Condom-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Seonghwa-"

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

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

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Perfect."

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

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

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

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uglypastels · 4 years ago

Text

Slide In // Frat!Tom

(a/n) I’ve never written this au before, in like a full fic i think, so i have no idea if this is good, but i had this idea in the middle of the night and yeah. I hope you guys enjoy. this may or may not have been inspired by a certain post @duskholland made about Tom and his mirror selfies <3 how amazing that he literally just posted one today lol

word count: 16.7k

warning: drinking, mention of drug use (weed), school, social anxiety, some smexy innuendos. i made some big last minute changes, so i hope its all coherent.

DEEPFAVE: Liking a photo (or any post) from over a year ago.

It was a cloudy morning, and it was early. Really really early. Not even the birds felt up to it, it felt like. The campus was slowly awakening or going to sleep (depending on if you had been to last night’s Delta Kappa party, of course).

It was cold, and the leaves fell off the branches with each huff of the morning breeze. The grass was wet from the previous night’s rain, and it soaked your ankles as you ran through the small grass field, in hopes to cut a bit off the distance to your lecture hall.

It had not been your fault that you overslept. You had gone to bed early; your backpack was already packed for the next morning. It was supposed to be a relaxing morning, perfect for easing back into it after a week of sleeping in and celebrating the holidays. How could you have expected that your roommate would barge into your dorm at 2 am, still whoo-ing her drunk ass in the corridor with other wasted idiots?

And it wasn’t like you were against all that partying and drinking. You would have gone yourself to the frat party, but it just didn’t sit right with you. A giant house full of intoxicated strangers- the anxiety running through you just thinking about it was making you shake.

So, instead of “living a little”, as your older brother called it, you preferred to stay in bed most evenings, either watching Netflix or reading a book. Yet, still, you had been kept awake for so long last night that you slept through your alarm. What was supposed to be a calm morning turned out to be ten minutes of rushed panic. Eventually, you had decided to skip most of your morning routine, including breakfast, brushing your hair or even putting on a decent outfit. You ran out of your dorm, clutching on to your bag, phone and keys.

Your hair was reasonably alright. It was still in the braid you had made before going to bed, but a lot of hair had fallen out during your slumber. When you looked in the mirror though, you saw that it looked decent so you let it be. Not so much could have been said for your outfit. You kept on the same shirt in which you slept in, which was a slightly oversized grey graphic tee from a random indie concert you had been to ages ago. Unfortunately, it was so cold that you couldn’t just go outside in your shorts, so had to spend a precious minute slipping into a pair of sweatpants that were actually not as bum-looking as you had feared.

Luckily, the walk (or in this situation, run) to the lecture hall was short. So, you survived with only a thick sweater over your arms.

And so, just like that, you were running through campus. The cold air was piercing your lungs as you inhaled deeply. Each breath started with this whistling sound, as you tried to ignore that pain, and ended in an exhale of a cloud of condensation. Maybe you weren’t in the best shape, but even this horrible experience would not make you sign up for the campus gym. No way.

You could see the lecture hall doors, the wide wooden panelling already towering over you, and you slowed down. You were trying to catch your breath and composure. As always, the doors were heavy and to add to it, the wood could not handle the temperature, so it was even harder to open them.

“Oh, let me,” you suddenly heard behind you, almost making you jump. The voice sounded familiar, but it wouldn’t click to a particular face just yet.

“Thanks,” you breathed out as an arm extended from behind you, clad in a leather jacket, and pushed the door open with ease. You followed the arm up with your eyes and saw how it connected to an actual person. Yes, you definitely recognised him. But what was his name again?

T- something starting with a T.

He smiled at you politely, nodding the gesture for you to go inside.

“Thanks,” you said again, before finally moving.

“No problem,” he was walking behind you but quickly caught up to your side. You saw in his hand a Starbucks coffee, which almost made your mouth water.

“Professor Dowling’s lecture, right?” he asked, before taking a sip. Your eyes unconsciously followed the movement as the need for caffeine was growing.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” you shook your head, focusing on anything but the delicious rich smell that you could sense coming from the cup—dark roast.

“Well, good to know I won’t be the only one late,” he chuckled. Troy? Was that his name? No. He didn’t look like a Troy.

“We’re not that late,” you checked your phone and cursed internally, “only… nine minutes.”

“Dowling doesn’t care if it’s nine minutes or nine hours. Late is late.” He took another sip. You had to look away before your stomach realised how empty it really was.

“True, I guess. Well, it was nice knowing you.” You sighed as you had reached the second door leading to the lecture room. Ty raised an eyebrow. No, his name was definitely not Ty. What was it?!

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Dowling is gonna kill us, isn’t he?” You explained, and he nodded in agreement.

He was again the one to slowly and quietly opened the door, giving you insight into the room. You almost yelled out in excitement when you saw that the lights had been somewhat dimmed for a slideshow that the professor was giving. You have Tim (nope, not Tim) a knowing look and smile. You had been saved. Then, the two of you slipped into the room, letting the doors close themself. You saw a few people turn their heads as you walked by together, searching for a seat, but you didn’t think much of it. You would have looked too if someone dared to be late for one of Dowling’s lectures.

Finally, you found an empty seat. Two, actually. It was in the back of the class, so you hoped that once the lights would go back on, Dowling wouldn’t immediately notice the addition of two more faces. The mystery guy, as you were too tired to think of more names and decided to give up, sat down next to you. He pulled out his laptop and turned it on, quickly putting it on the lowest setting of brightness. Just before he had opened it up, you noticed a few stickers. Between a few references from tv shows and movies, you saw the logo of Delta Kappa. You only recognised it because you had been seeing the logo on almost every notice board the last few days together with the campus-wide invitation for last night’s party.

So he was a frat boy.

You looked up to the side at him as you pulled out your laptop and notebook. The notebook was more for doodling than anything. But also to write down some more of the essential or just entertaining parts of the lecture, since you had come to realise that writing things down by hand helped you remember better.

Your heart stopped beating for a second as you opened your laptop, praying that no embarrassing tabs were open or, even worse, you still had Spotify playing on full blast. But you could let yourself relax when the laptop just showed you your desktop.

Right then, you could hear your stomach growl of hunger.

“Here,” suddenly T, as you decided to call him for the time being, slid over his coffee to your small desk. You looked up at him in confusion. He had a cap on, so there was not much you could see in the dark shadow, but you saw his sincere smile.

You thanked him before grabbing the cup. Since it was Starbucks, you hoped to learn his name finally. But instead, in black marker, was written “Holland”. Last name. Well, that was something.

_________________________________

“Thank you,” y/n said before grabbing the drink, taking a look at the name written on it, and taking a big sip of it, although she quickly pulled it away from her lips, her face distorted in a sour expression.

“Sorry,” Tom apologised, “my hand had slipped when I was pouring in the sugar.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” she whispered, still a bit disgusted, but it didn’t stop her from taking another large sip. “How can you drink this stuff?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Tom grinned.

Times weren’t exactly desperate, in his case.

The party had been a massive success. Everyone seemed to have had a great time, and this time, not even at the cost of any of the frat house furniture. Sure, some people might have thrown up in the cooking pans, but that could be easily cleaned up by one of the pledges.

It all ended around 2 am, which was fairly early, but it was, of course, a school night. Tom remembered to drink water before going to sleep and woke up with only a mild headache. A few painkillers solved that pretty quickly. He got up, stumbled a bit over the mess around the house and was on his way to class.

He was sure he would have made it on time if it wasn’t for his usual appetite and need for coffee. Yes, he could have made it at home, but for some reason, the coffee from that machine always tasted like piss. And Tom did not want to find out why. So, it had almost become routine for him to stop by the Starbucks that was on the way from the house to the lecture halls.

What he had not expected was the giant line of customers inside. More people had felt the need for coffee after a wild night of partying. He recognised some girls, still wearing the same dresses they wore to the party. A few guys who looked like they were on the verge of death were sipping their drinks in the corner of the room. The two baristas were running around behind the counter, trying to make the drinks as fast as possible. As fellow students, they knew that there were a lot of people rushing to get to class, at least.

Tom had even looked at his phone, checking the time before he decided to step into the queue. He had majorly misjudged the time it would take the baristas to make the few drinks before it was his turn to order. In the meantime, people would walk up to him, also recognising him from the party, to tell Tom what a great time they had last night.

Finally, he got his drink and made his way over to the second station and poured in some sugar. For that extra kick of energy, but also, secretly, because he could not stand the bitterness of coffee. Then, it was really time to leave the crowd. Tom never really minded people and was definitely what you call a “social butterfly”, but there was always a limit. And the limit on a Monday morning was minimal. Even smaller, if you are still trying to get rid of a hangover.

He had just reached the main square of campus when he saw the big clock. He was already late, so it wouldn’t do much to run. Professor Dowling did not care for excuses or how late you were, even if it was a second. So he could as well just take his time.

Others had different ideas apparently.

Tom watched as someone ran across the grass, clutching on to their backpack. She stopped at the same door that he was heading for, so he got to have a good look first. The first thing he saw was the back of her head. Hair made up in a braid that was falling apart. A large black sweater, probably her boyfriend’s, was covering most of her frame.

She was trying to pull open the door that had the word PUSH on them, but Tom didn’t say anything. It was early, and by the looks of her, not that he was judging, she didn’t have a great morning.

When they had made eye contact, he recognised her from the lectures but did not think he had ever heard her name being mentioned. Professor Dowling loved interacting with the class, no matter how large, and often called out people to answer his absurd questions. She had never put her hand up to answer. Tom was sure of it; he would have remembered her name.

It interested him to see her pull out, not only a laptop but also a notebook. Did people even use those anymore? Even the dim light he could see the words scribbled on the cover. The decorative style did kind of make it hard to miss it.

Property of y/f/n.

So that was her name. Tom couldn’t help but smile to himself.

Having already missed the first ten minutes, he tried his best to focus on the words of the professor, but some things just couldn’t go unnoticed.

By the look y/n was giving his coffee cup, he could tell that she had not had any herself and the sound of her empty stomach as they sat next to each other only confirmed his suspicion. So, it only felt like the right thing to do to give her some. And the smile he got in return definitely made it worth it.

His attention was entirely gone by that point, as he watched her open her notebook. It was filled with little drawings. Some were more distinct than others. There were the classic five-petal flowers and the single mysterious eye with no other entity attached to it—also a few little scratchy tornadoes and random filigree. Patches of just lines and different patterns filled up the corners and extended out to the middle of the pages. Tom also definitely recognised a few attempts at bringing back the Super S in there.

But what also filled up the page were little characters. She must have drawn them during the lectures around Halloween because he recognised a little witch, stylised to the perfect amount of cuteness. There was also a cauldron of bats flying off to the side.

Tom could have looked at it for much longer and still find some more doodles in there, but unfortunately, she flipped the page. This one was blank. She took out a pen and started to doodle mindlessly.

First, a straight line, to which she attached little ovals. Lightly, but the lines got darker, the more she went over it. Then she made some more lighter lines across it. It made him chuckle when he recognised what it finally was—a piece of wheat. The way she stopped drawing for a second, Tom thought that she had not realised what she was drawing either. It was just a random coincidence where a few lines suddenly could make up an existing object. Then she continued.

From time to time she’d stop to make a note somewhere in the middle of the page, something that professor Dowling said that made her giggle. It was adorable to hear.

“Now, this,” Tom could hear the professor say from his little podium, the two little words shook everybody in the room awake because those they were code for IMPORTANT. As Dowling kept on talking, y/n closed her notebook and pulled her laptop closer to type. Tom had to pull himself together to focus on the actual lecture.

Then the sound of her stomach pulled him out of that. That was followed by the whisper of an angry “fuck”. Tom looked over to y/n again. She was trying to type something out, but her shaking fingers kept pressing the wrong buttons. She was crumbling apart from hunger.

Crumbling…

Suddenly, Tom remembered. He leaned down to look in his bag, hoping it was still there. It was.

“Hey,” he nudged her side, making her look up at him once more, with caution. He grabbed the small pack of Oreos and slid them over to her desk. She looked perplexed. Then she pushed the, slightly flat-looking, cookies back to Tom. He frowned.

“I thought I’m not supposed to be taking candy from strangers.” She whispered. Tom chuckled and pushed the pack of four cookies back to her.

“Well, good it’s not candy then. Eat. I can tell you’re starving.”

Y/n looked at the Oreos, not sure whether to take them or not, but her stomach answered for her. She opened her mouth, but then she closed it again and turned away. Tom understood it. It would have been the fourth time she would have said: “thank you”. By now, he got the message. As she opened the packet of cookies, Tom went back to listening to the lecture.

_________________________________

You hesitated before taking the cookies. Were they some kind of prank? You knew how frat guys loved to pull jokes on everyone, even if they were no better than middle school hijinks or cheesy April fools clichés. But the silver packet, except that it looked a bit flat, seemed to be untouched. Most likely because of getting squashed by something in his backpack.

You opened it and were immediately hit with the delicious whiff of chocolate. You took out one cookie and didn’t bother with the usual way of splitting it open to eat the filling first. You needed food. Now. Even if it were just four broken Oreo cookies. It was better than nothing.

Obviously, you were still hungry and in need of a proper breakfast, but the small snack helped you hold out for the rest of the lecture.

But now that your stomach was sorted for, you had another problem concentrating. Your new, still unnamed, friend tended to type very loudly. At first, you looked over in a bit of annoyance, which made you actually notice his hands. There was nothing special about them. They were naturally just hands, but the way he moved his fingers across the keyboard… it made you look back in that general direction a few times more.

Probably because of all these distractions, the usual hour and 45 minutes felt much shorter. Before you knew it, professor Dowling was saying his goodbyes and everyone around you started packing up their things.

Needing to get some food ASAP, you packed up your things and practically ran out of the room. Only as you were nearing the cafeteria did you realise that you had never said goodbye to your snack provider.

Shit.

_________________________________

“Hey, so I was thinking-” Tom was going to suggest grabbing a bite for breakfast together, being somewhat hungry himself, but when he looked up y/n had already packed her things and was on her way to the stairs, following the other students out the door.

Tom sank back down into his seat.

“Any problems, Mr Holland?” Tom’s head shot forward to see professor Dowling looking up at him. When he looked around, he saw he was the only one who had not started packing up.

“No, everything’s alright, sir,” Tom said before getting up with his laptop. “Great lecture. Learned a lot... and stuff.”

“Good, good,” Dowling said. His glasses were slipping off his nose slightly, so he pushed them back up with his middle finger. “I did not expect you to have heard anything, by the way you and miss y/n were chatting.”

The professor’s words made Tom’s cheek burn up as he pushed the laptop back into its place in his bag. That man saw everything.Suddenly he felt as if he was in middle school again.

“Try to not make it a habit.”

“No, sir,” Tom said.

Dowling just nodded, meaning the conversation had ended and giving Tom permission to sprint out of the room.

He wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry. Maybe he was hoping to find y/n waiting outside the doors. He didn’t even know why he wanted to see her there. He just did. He had this urge just to watch her doodle in that notebook of hers. There was something so endearing about it.

Alas, no one was waiting for him outside that door. Or even in the proximity of it. There was no one but groups of students making their way from and to class.

Then, Tom realised that she must have run off to the cafeteria. Still, he decided against going there. As much as he wanted to talk to y/n again, he didn’t want to come off stalkerish. Besides, they’d have another class tomorrow. He could speak to her then.

“Ayo! Holland!” Tom looked over to a group of people he recognised to be his friends. They were gathered around one of the large windows that was open in the hallway. He waved to them before making his way over.

“What’s up, man? You looked like a lost puppy.” Jacob said.

“No nothing, I just zoned out a little, I guess.” Tom shook his head, clearing it off thoughts of y/n.

“Well, we were thinking,” his best friend and fellow Delta Kappa resident, Harrison joined in on the conversation, “There is this new bar opening next week. The… something- shit, what’s it called again?” He looked over at the rest of the group.

“The Sterling,” it was Zendaya that answered. She was sitting on the window sill with both legs in front of her, not living much space for anyone else to sit. She had something between her fingers, and Tom could not make out if it were a regular cigarette or a joint. (The smell insinuated at nicotine, so that answered for itself.) The fact that they were on campus did not make much difference to them. She took a drag and blew the smoke out, before handing it to Harrison.

“So, Holland, you’re in?”

“Yeah of course.” There’s nothing like the hysteria of drinking yourself sick in some new dingy place across campus. A new one would open up every few months because its predecessor would get shut down after too many accounts of selling alcohol to minors. It had almost become a game for younger students to see how quickly they can destroy a business. Tom and Harrison had been record holders for a while. Five weeks. Tom wasn’t exactly sure how anyone could tell they were the reason for The Six-Ball to close, but it didn’t matter. (“With a name like that, they deserve to shut down,” Harrison had joked before ordering two Long Island Iced Teas.)

Now that they were of the legal drinking age, of course, maybe it wasn’t as fun to go to those shitty holes in the wall, but with the right people, they made it a party every time.

“Nice! So-” Jacob started talking about how he thought the night had to go, but Tom was already zoned out again. Between Zendaya and Harrison, he had the perfect view of the small grass field. Some people had sat down there with their friends to enjoy the midday, but most people still considered it too cold to sit outside. But what Tom was looking at was behind the grass field. It was the cafeteria doors. He saw that large sweater again. y/n walked out, holding something that looked like a sandwich. Tom smiled to himself.

“What are you smiling about?” He got nudged in the ribs by someone.

“Oh, you know, the uhm-” he had no idea what the rest of his friends had been talking about to include in his lie.

“I know,” Harrison said, lounging his arm across Tom’s shoulder to point in the same direction that Tom had been looking at. Tom froze up when he pointed straight at y/n with his finger.

“Angela Pikowski.”

“What?” It took Tom a second, but indeed, right in front of y/n, stood Angela with her own group of friends. She laughed at something, whipping her bottle bleached blonde hair across her shoulder. He understood too, how Harrison had caught her so quickly in his vision, for she had her jacket open and her shirt was pretty tight and low cut. How did that girl not catch pneumonia or some shit?

“You ain't slick, bro.” Harrison patted him on the back. Tom, not wanting to get into it more than he needed, just grinned awkwardly. When he looked out into the square, Angela still stood there, but y/n was gone.

_________________________________

The campus food was never that good, but it didn’t matter. The feelings of having actual food in your body felt so good that it might as well have been a five-course meal from a three-star Michelin restaurant. While, in reality, it was just a little bacon, egg and salad sub on stale bread.

It did not matter.

You enjoyed your breakfast as you walked down the path, back to your dorm. After that horrendous morning, and the pretty… interesting lecture, you were ready to lock yourself up in a room and do nothing but watch Netflix. And thankfully, due to having only one morning class, you could actually do it too.

You said your polite “Hi”s and “Hello”s as you passed some other people you recognised from other classes. A bit hopefully, you were on the lookout for your (still nameless!) friend from the lecture. You really had to figure out what his name was.

By the time you had reached your dorm building, your sandwich was gone. A part of you was still hungry, but you ignored that. You were probably just bored anyway.

The dorm hall was basic in every way, from the carpeted grey floor to the plainly painted walls. But the inhabitants, of course, did try to give it some life. They hung up posters and banners, flags and lights. You reached the door that was decorated with a collage of different 80s glam rock artists and walked into your room. That college had been a little bonding experience with your roommate, Marie, during the very first week of Freshman year.

When you walked in, your eyes were immediately drawn to the lump on one of the beds. A groan erupted from underneath it when you switched on the light.

“Ruuuude,” Marie yelled out. She came out from beneath the sheets. Her hair was bigger than ever, and you could see the mascara and eyeshadow stains under her eyes, and there was still some glitter on her.

“You know, you should take off your make-up before going to sleep,” You said as you took off your sweater.

“You know, you should put some on before leaving the house,” she said before diving back underneath her sheets.

“Ouch,” you both laughed. But you couldn’t help but take a look in the mirror as you passed it. Maybe you could have used some concealer under your eyes, but it wasn’t that bad. Right?

The room the two of you lived in maybe wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small either. You were definitely one of the luckier people in the building. Your room, after all, had just enough space for the two beds, desks and closets to mirror each other on each side of the room. You also went the extra way to put up some extra shelving on your side above the bed, since one closet was not enough.

“Didn’t you have class this morning as well?” you asked as you sat down on. You could hear something coming from Marie that resembled an “Mhm”. Not in the talking mood, got it.

So, in quiet, you pulled out your laptop and searched for something that did not look mind-numbingly dumb to watch, eventually settling for a show you had probably watched five times out of pure overwhelming of choice. After a while of moving around in your bed, you found a comfortable position at last and turned the show on, ready for a day of uninterrupted laziness.

_________________________________

Tom got home a bit later than he had hoped. After making plans for the next night, his friends were determined to go out for lunch as well. What he thought would be just a quick grab-and-go, turned out to be a full two-hour lunch where they talked about anything and nothing.

He loved the company of people, but not on Mondays. Mondays were his day to do nothing except for going to class, and Tom felt like he had already done too much.

When he did get back, people were still busy cleaning the aftermath of the party. It had gone a bit wilder than Tom remembered. Some jackass had decided to spray paint one of the upstairs hallways, and the colour was not easy to get off. Luckily, it had become almost a custom for all the house members to lock their doors during a party. For privacy sake firstly, but like anything at Delta Kappa, it turned a bit into a game.

The first two unlock their door, either if the person was too tired to stay at the party or wanted to bring a guest into their room, was obliged to do something horrible. It was up to the rest of the house to decide what. Fortunately for Tom, he had not been the first to unlock his door that night. That luck fell on poor Billy.

Even if it came to be so, the rule didn’t make sense because no one could check who the first one was to open their door and even if- it was not an official Delta Kappa rule. That meant that, even if the person got caught to be the first, they could simply deny the dare. They would be known as Head Chicken, of course, but there were worse things in life.

Tom moved up the stairs, saying hi to a few of his roommates, feeling very lucky as one of the senior members of the house, he did not have cleaning duty. Most of that was up to the pledges anyway.

He remembered when he had to do all those tasks and shit to get into the house. It was so stupid; he didn’t even understand why he chose to be in a fraternity, in the first place.

He did think the other guys had gone a bit softer on himself and Harrison since at the beginning of it all, they had been chosen by the sorority of Alpha Zeta Zeta as the favourites. Still, some unspeakable things had been done that year.

But now that he lived in a giant house with some of his best friends, it all felt like it was a bit worth it. He had a great time at Delta Kappa.

One of the best pros, by far, was that he had his own bedroom. Spacious for everything he needed plus a bit more. A large, unmade, bed waited for him when he opened the door. That, and the happy barks of Tessa.

“Hello, darling,” he bent down to pet her as she jumped to his knees. Tessa was the official mascot of the fraternity, but she had very early on found a great liking to Tom. It only took her a few days to get settled in his room, and from then on, she wouldn’t sleep anywhere else.

Tom moved up to his bed, and Tessa gladly joined him. She patted down a circle before lying down with her head on his chest, letting out a satisfied huff of air. Even if he wasn’t comfortable, Tom had no way out anymore. He was stuck. With nothing else to do, he took out his phone and went through his notifications.

Some texts from Harrison and Jacob, a missed call from that girl he made the mistake of giving her his number. People were getting Wi-fi again because he got at least twenty different Snapchat pictures and videos from the party.

What else there was plenty of, were Instagram mentions and tags. He went through the photos, smiling. It really had been a great party. Then, something popped up in his mind.

Property of: y/f/n

y/f/n

Could it be that easy? He could just search for her and hope to find her account. He typed it in. Her first name was already enough to get plenty of results. As always the profile pictures were too small to really make out a true identity, so he made his way through the accounts.

He only needed three tries, though. The picture already resembled her, so with hope, he clicked on the account.

This account is private. Follow this account to see their photos and videos.

Tom sighed. Not so easy after all. Then he saw the bio. It was a bit vague, just a few random emojis. But what interested him was the Followed by and the fifteen mutual followers that she had. It couldn’t be anyone else.

For some unknown reason, his heart was beating in his throat as he clicked on the blue Follow button and watched it turn grey. Now it was just a matter of waiting until his request got accepted. Or maybe denied. Who knows.

_________________________________

Watching a show for the fifth time got a bit boring. You could still laugh at the jokes, but at the same time, you could also almost flawlessly quote it as the scene went along. So, a few episodes in you took out your phone and started scrolling through various app feeds.

Marie had fallen back to sleep since you could hear her snore in her bed. And you were falling asleep slowly too. It was so warm in your room, and your bed was so soft and comfortable. Your eyes were getting heavier by the second.

Then a notification popped up, brightening up the screen in your hand. Half-awake, you tried to read it.

(your account): Tom Holland (@tomholland2013) has requested to follow you.

Tom? Your mind took a moment to process. Then the face finally clicked to the name. Tom! His name was Tom!

Without much further thought you accepted the request and before you even put your phone down, you fell asleep.

_________________________________

Not to sound desperate, Tom waited for a good half hour before rechecking his phone. He clicked on the Instagram app and the search icon. Her account was still the last one from the recent searches he made. Tom clicked on the account and, to his unexplained surprise, he was greeted with a gallery of pictures.

He had noticed earlier that the count on top of the page said 53 Posts. Interested, he clicked on the first one. It was a picture of a coffee cup. It wasn’t tagged, but Tom recognised it to be from that café Le Moulin. He saw the distinctive black windmill on the napkin that could not be missed.

He scrolled down.

It was a selfie from last summer. The filter slightly enhanced her bright smile on the picture, but Tom could tell it was more to show off the warm atmosphere of her holiday destination. The next photo was from the same holiday, he assumed, of her and a group of friends. He recognised the girls from campus. When he tapped the picture for the tags, he saw their names. @tiffani.btx @bonne_marie @lucywithnodiamonds

He thought to have spotted that Marie chick at the party. She was French if he remembered correctly. She was definitely a wild one. Might have even grinded up against him during one of the better songs that were played.

There were some more selfies, solo and with friends, sunsets and landscapes. The picture quality got worse as he scrolled down. It matched with the timeline. People should not be keeping up their pictures from seven years ago, especially not with all those fucked up filters they used back then. Tom was, of course, one of those people.

He scrolled to the last picture; it was of a dog—one of the cutest little labrador puppies.

Out of nowhere, Tessa barked in her sleep, making Tom jump up. This sudden movement, in its turn, woke the dog up completely. Tessa kept barking.

“Right, I think it’s time for a walk, what do you think?” He patted Tessa on the head as she tried to lick his arm. Tom got up and was about to leave his room when he realised he almost forgot his phone. The screen hadn’t turned off yet, so he looked at the puppy again. But something was off this time. Something had changed.

The little blank heart under the image- it was now pink.

He accidentally liked her oldest picture.

_________________________________

There were two types of naps. Those that made you feel amazing and refreshed by the time you got up. And those that made you feel like you had fallen asleep on a bed of rocks. You felt even worse than before when you woke up. Your head was throbbing, and your bra had pushed itself into every possible part of your chest, making it that much more uncomfortable.

“What time is it?” you asked Marie, but she was still asleep.

The light of your phone almost blinded you, so you quickly put down the brightness. It was around four o’clock. Meaning you had slept for a good three hours.

Besides the time, you checked your notifications. There were not a lot of them. A few spam emails, a few texts in a group chat you never responded too and… a like on Instagram?

tomholland2013 liked your photo. 1 h

You had to think back to the moment before your nap to remember that he had in fact requested to follow you. And you had accepted it.

You clicked on the notification, and it sent you to the liked picture. To your surprise, it was the picture of your family dog, Spot. Your family had picked the name even though he was a completely yellow labrador, loving the irony.

It was your first-ever picture, from over seven years ago. Had he been stalking your account? Why the fuck would he do that?

Well, you thought, it was only fair if I do it too. So, through the like, you made your way over to his account.

First thing you noticed was the number of followers he had. 15.7k How the fuck do people even get those numbers? Well, it’s easier if you’re a hot frat guy, of course.

His profile picture was a mirror selfie, and clearly, it was his favourite composition, for at least five out of the first nine pictures in the gallery were the same style. All full-body reflections, with him holding the phone in his right hand, leaning his head a bit to look at the screen as he took the picture. His lips weren’t exactly in a smirk, but there was that cockiness in there. He really was feeling it, that was obvious.

The first picture was a classic mirror pose- A black jacket and a black hat: the same outfit he had been wearing in class. You looked at the timestamp and saw that he only posted it an hour ago. Already it had dozens of comments and a low thousand amount of likes.

You scrolled down. A denim jacket and beanie in the mirror; a grey t-shirt and sweats in the mirror; a black suit in the mirror, the list could go on. There were other pictures, mostly from the frat house parties and other events where alcohol played a significant role. There were also the occasional front camera selfies.

You couldn’t help but look at those a little bit longer. There was something about that small tight smile that he made that was so cute. In one of the more saturated pictures, with a deeper shadow, you noticed that his nose actually had a little bump in it, most likely from breaking it in the past.

But just from likes alone, you could tell that the mirror was a public favourite.

There was something about the confidence that the pictures portrayed that spoke to you.. He knew he looked good, and no one could deny it. Except, he looked so much better than good.

It was interesting to be scrolling down his posts because it was like a trip back in time. At first, it didn’t wasn’t that obvious, just maybe a change in temperature during the year that was referenced through his clothing. Then it showed a bit more as his hair started to get shorter by each picture taken. It got shorter and shorter until his hair was not much more than a buzz. The reason for the drastic hair change was explained in the next picture.

You had already scrolled down four years worth of pictures, and this one was of him (taken by someone else). Tom was standing in a victory stance on a grass field, which you recognised to be the campus square. He was only wearing boxer shorts and on his chest was painted, in bright blue paint, 𝜟K. Underneath the post, read the caption: Delta Kappa babyyy! with a bunch of other hashtags. One that was included was #deltakappapledge #initiated. Of course, it was during his pledge period.

You kind of hoped that he had to do more than just shave off his hair because he didn’t even look half that bad. It even suited him actually. Hoping to find some more evidence of that embarrassing period, you scrolled on.

The sound that came out of your mouth as you scrolled to the next picture was inhumane. Keeping to tradition, it was a mirror selfie. Behind him seemed to be some workout equipment, possibly from the campus gym, but no one would look at that. Everyone would be too focused on what was in the foreground.

It was Tom standing in front of a mirror, chest glistening with sweat as his hair draped in front of his eyes. Instead of the usual pose, he stood sideways, showing off not only his flexed bicep as he took the picture, but also the outline of all his other muscles.

Completely forgetting what you were doing, you double-tapped the post. How could you not? Only a second later, did your monkey brain realise what you had done. You had made that exact same mistake as Tom. Except while he had liked a picture of a cute dog, you had made your mark on a shirtless selfie.

As the pure humiliation flooded over you, you threw your phone to the other end of the bed with a squeak.

What’s done was done.

_________________________________

Tom came back from the walk with Tessa after an hour. They both enjoyed a long walk around the park neighbouring the campus, just to then pretend like they were too exhausted and lay in bed the rest of the day. Well, Tom pretended. Tessa seemed legitimately tired.

They went back to their position on the bed. Not sure what else to do, Tom got back to Instagram. There was no reaction to his accidental like yet. Not even a follow back from y/n. A bit rude but okay, maybe she hadn’t seen it yet?

He shook his head. He didn’t like this weird side of him. Where had it even come from? Since when did he wait for anyone to respond to him? And they weren’t even having a conversation!

Having nothing else to do, he searched through his phone gallery for a good picture to post. He chose one he had taken during lunch, on his way from the bathroom. It was still crazy that his friends wanted to go to a place where you needed to take an elevator to go to the toilet.

He didn’t care for editing, so he went through the usual Instagram process of making a post, thought of some dumb caption and send it out into the internet. Soon enough, as if they had a notification on for his activities, the likes streamed in. For the first few minutes, he tried to look through them, again hoping that y/n would be one of the likes or the heart eyes emojis in the comments, but quickly it became too much, and Tom couldn’t keep up. He still enjoyed reading the comments.

Of course, it was all one big ego boost. The praise and compliments, even if it was for something as shallow as his looks, definitely gave him a good kick of dopamine and all those other happy chemicals during the day.

Tessa was snoring and drooling on his belly as Tom went through his timeline and explore page. There was not much exciting happening in peoples’ lives, but it made the time flow by faster. An hour had gone by probably when he decided to recheck his activities. His new picture already had a few thousand likes and was close to reaching a hundred comments. He went through some of them and either liked them or responded with a matching emoji.

But as he scrolled through the activity, he saw a like that was to a different picture. A rather old one too, just from the beginning of college. And who might have liked this picture? y/n

She liked a workout selfie, huh?

With the confidence that the like gave him, Tom clicked on her account and the message button. He thought about what to send for a moment but decided against overthinking it and went with a simple-

_________________________________

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Hi

You looked at the notification for a while. He definitely saw you had liked his old picture. Was he going to make fun of you? Tease you how you had outed yourself for thirsting over him?

But maybe he just wants to talk? You tried to sound optimistic to yourself. After all, he did like an old picture of yours too. You were kind of in the same boat.

Putting all worries aside, you clicked on that damn nerve-wracking notification, and without much more thought send out the reply.

(y/n)

Hey :)

Before you could even send out the smiley, the message rose to reveal “SEEN” beneath it. Was this happening? Was it? You could see he was typing.

(tomholland2013)

After stalking me you could have at least followed me back lol

(y/n)

Right sorry just a lot of mirror selfies. Thought i’d seen everything there is to see 😂

(tomholland2013)

Rude Seen anything you like though? ;)

Uhhh, of course, you have. You liked it. A lot. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction.

(y/n)

No not really

Quickly change the subject.

So what are you up to?

Good enough subject?

(tomholland2013)

Just lying in bed with Tess

Tess? Who was Tess? Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, he would have posted something on his Instagram, right? That’s what couples did? Unless it was just a one time fling. You couldn’t even call it a one-night stand since it wasn’t even night.

Wait, why did you even care about that? You had literally only said hello to each other and shared a coffee during class.

But the curiosity was gnawing at you.

(y/n)

Tess?

(tomholland2013)

Yeah, she’s falling asleep on my chest. Kinda tired her out lol

You looked at the text, unsure how to respond, or even if to do it. Was he telling you about his hookup? It didn’t sound like the nice guy you had met in front of the lecture hall, and that gave you his leftover coffee and Oreos. Your face wrenched into a grimace, not sure anymore what to make of this conversation or of what had happened during class.

He was typing again.

Wanna see?

Jesus Christ, this was a mistake. You didn’t respond, but he still sent you a picture anyway. It was a timer, unfortunately, meaning you had to click on it to see what he had sent. But he could see you got the message and that you were online. The longer you took, the more prominent you would make it that something was wrong, and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He had given you his coffee.

The curiosity got the better of you once again, though, and you clicked on the little bomb. What popped up was almost what you expected- but at the same time, so not. Before your brain properly processed what you were looking at, you were scared that he had sent you an unsolicited dick pic, but it was the furthest thing from that.

What you saw was a POV shot of his chest and legs. He was indeed lying on his bed. On his chest, however, was the head of a grey silver dog. “Tess” had her eyes closed peacefully as she slept on.

Of course, it was a dog.

You decided to be honest. For the benefit of the conversation, if anything.

(y/n)

Omg 💀

(tomholland2013)

We just came back from a long walk, so she’s pretty knackered What? Did you think I meant something else?

Embarrassment kicked in anyway.

(y/n)

No... lol

(tomholland2013)

You sooo did lmao Jealous much ;)

(y/n)

Of the dog maybe

(tomholland2013)

Cause she gets to be here with me?

(y/n)

No I meant it like She’s so cute I want one

(tomholland2013)

Relax I was just messing with you But if you ever wanna come over

(y/n)

Maybe another time

The response came out in a panic. Had he invited you for what you thought he did? No, there was no way he did. Besides, you couldn’t go to his house. You barely knew the guy- your mind kept on whirring about it. But the conversation continued.

Soon the sun had gone down, and it got dark outside, but the messages kept coming in. At one point Marie finally woke up from her hangover slumber. Drowsily she got up and headed for the shower with a towel and toiletries bag in her hand. Before she left, though. She asked you if you could prepare something to eat for dinner since she was starving. You being you, agreed.

(y/n)

Hey, I think I gotta go for a bit. Gotta make dinner for my roommate

(tomholland2013)

What’s on the menu?

(y/n)

Probably spicy ramen?

(tomholland2013)

Damn. sounds good But can’t she make it herself?

_________________________________

A part of Tom wanted to send another message. I want to keep talking to you. But that felt like a bit much. She was typing again anyway.

(y/n)

Because she’s still hungover from your party lol Thank for that btw

(tomholland2013)

You make it sound like i am personally responsible

(y/n)

Well your the only guy from DK i know so you’re** 💀fml. There go my chances of an english degree

(tomholland2013)

Nah babe YOU’RE good ;)

_________________________________

Your heart fluttered at the little word, for no reason. It was just a text message. He probably called every girl he texted that. Still, the sentiment was there. Also that winky face of his. Could he stop?

He started to type again.

(tomholland2013)

But if you ever wanna meet the other guys, you really are welcome to come over.

(y/n)

I’m good thanks.

Going to a frat house alone? You felt like that could easily be the start of your personal horror movie. It would absolutely crash at the box office, but that didn’t matter. And it was the second time he invited you to come over. If it was a hint, it wasn’t a subtle one. It didn��t stop you from doubting it.

(tomholland2013)

No need to be scared. They’re pretty chill dudes.

It was cute how he could read your mind because you were undoubtedly scared, but what he probably did not think was that you weren’t interested in meeting any other frat guy because there was only one on your mind at the moment.

(y/n)

Maybe another time ttyl?

You had sent the last message in the hopes that he had as much fun talking to you as you did with him. You watched eagerly as the three dots danced around on the screen while he typed out his answer.

(tomholland2013)

Absolutely

_________________________________

Tom turned his phone off with a smile covering his face. He had just spent talking a good two hours to y/n, and he had to admit, he hadn’t had that pleasant of a conversation with anyone in a long time. It was just so easy to talk to her. It might be partly because it was only texts. But still, she was funny, sweet, and so pretty...

Unbeknown to himself, he was falling a little bit for y/n. Although, maybe he did feel it coming. The idea of getting another text from her made his face heat up. The idea of seeing her in class the next day almost made him… giddy. And it’s only been a day.

“Hey, man,” there came a knock on his door. “Better hide anything that would make it awkward between us cause I’m coming inside in 3-2-1-”

“‘S all good,” Tom said right as Harrison walked through the door.

“We’re gonna order pizza, what do you want?”

“Just the usual, I guess,’ Tom shrugged. Honestly, he didn’t really feel like eating pizza but to be the only one that wasn’t having any wasn’t a good strategy either.

“Alright, then.” As quickly as he walked in, Harrison was also leaving the room. But he peeked his head through the door once more before actually walking away.

“Hey, are you sure you’re good?” Harrison looked at him through narrow eyes.

“Yeah,” Tom answered as he prodded himself to sit up. “Why?”

“I don’t know… Nevermind.” And with that, Harrison left to share Tom’s order.

It was a rare occasion that all the house members would be at home on a night that wasn’t reserved for a party. That night, when it came to dinner, it was around 8 of them. Everyone was already sitting on the couches when Tom came downstairs to grab his pizza. He grabbed a chair and his box and sat down. A football game was playing on tv, and it made Tom roll his eyes. He still had no real idea of how football was supposed to work. He always preferred golf or basketball, or even baseball.

The guys cheered at a touchdown or whatever but all Tom could focus on was his phone. He kept checking if there were any notifications from y/n. So far, there was nothing. She was probably busy, he told himself, not wanting to feel too disappointed.

_________________________________

“So who were you texting back then?” Marie said as she slurped on her noodles. You were playing around with your own portion a bit, not really in the eating mindset.

“Huh? No one.” you shook your head.

“So it is someone. C’mon. Who is it?” She extended her leg to poke yours. She kept going until you finally gave in.

“Just this guy from Dowling’s class.” you finally took a bite of ramen.

“Aaand does this guy have a name?” Marie kept on asking.

You looked up from your cup of noodles. “Tom… Holland.”

Marie gasped, almost dropping her food onto her lap. “Tom Holland? As in Delta Kappa Tom Holland?’ you nodded your head yes. “No fucking way.”

“What?” Not the most nuanced reaction, but it would do.

“No way you have a crush on Tom fucking Holland.” You always noticed that when Marie cursed her French accent would show up again. Just the slightest bit. This time, however, what you stayed on was her statement.

“I do not!” you said as your cheeks were heating up.

“Ohhh, you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said ‘nobody’. Everybody knows that ‘nobody’ is code for either crush, boyfriend, or drug dealer. And I think we can exclude the last option.” you were going to protest, but you would have only been fooling yourself.

“So, hypothetically, let’s say I do have a crush on him. Why did you scream out ‘No way’?” You bit your lip, a bit scared for an answer.

“No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” Marie put down her ramen on her desk and came to sit down next to you on your bed. “I didn’t mean that you, like, don’t have a chance with him. Please, if anything, you’re too good for him.’ you both chuckled. “I just didn’t think he’d be your type.”

“What, hot?” You raised an eyebrow to which she slapped your shoulder.

“You’re being difficult. I mean, so… out there. You know, he’s basically the leader of that frat house, he always parties, always has stuff to go to. And you’re… well, pretty much the exact opposite. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Completely not. I just don’t want you to put yourself in any positions that you’re uncomfortable with to impress him or anything. Remember, you are too good for him.”

“Thanks.” you hugged her from the side. “But don’t you think that it would be good for me to go out once in a while? Out of my comfort zone?”

“Sure, if you’re actually doing it for you. Not some guy.”

“He is really nice, you know.” you smiled, remembering what had happened that morning. You went on telling Marie about it.

“Oh, so he’s got a crush on you too, huh? That works out perfectly. ” She finally said when you were done telling your story. You looked at her with wide eyes.

“What? Noooo,” you said, letting an awkward laugh escape through the no.

“Fine, whatever,” Marie moved back to her own bed and grabbed her cup of ramen. “But I bet you that if you check your phone now, you’ll have at least one message from him.”

You rolled your eyes again but grabbed your phone either way. And, fair enough, you had two notifications from ten minutes ago.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Heyy

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: I hope the ramens good

Holding in your smile, and ignoring the smart ass comments of Marie, you replied quickly.

(y/n)

It was :)

_________________________________

The speed at which Tom checked his phone when he felt the vibration in his pocket could have caused someone severe whiplash. He responded to the text and got up. Ultimately, he had hoped that he could slip out the room unnoticed, but he never got what he wanted, did he?

“Where are you going?” It was Dave that saw him get up. Tom stopped in his tracks like a little kid that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Just up to my room. Feelin’ a bit tired.’ He explained. This answer received several strange and confused looks, but Tom ignored those and just walked upstairs without saying another word. He plopped down onto his bed. Tessa was still downstairs under the table chewing on some pizza crusts, so he was finally alone.

The texting continued through the whole night, and Tom had wholly lost the sense of time. He didn’t even feel tired. If it wasn’t for y/n saying that she was about to fall asleep, he wouldn’t at least. Like that, the windshield crashed, and he felt the fatigue from the hours of messaging and staring at a screen overwhelm him. He just about managed to send out goodnight before his eyelids were too heavy to open up again.

_________________________________

The next morning you woke up feeling much better than either time the day before. Fresh and energised, with plenty of time to get ready before class started. Not that you really put much effort into how you looked for the morning lectures. It was more mental preparation. With enough time to eat breakfast, shower and brush your teeth, you felt excellent walking out the door. Dressed in a sweater that was warmer than two jackets and some loose jeans. With your bag over your shoulder.

You always thought the walk from your dorm to the lecture halls was delightful. The path leading toward it was enveloped in a tunnel of trees, and during the end of the year, when the leaves were turning into their auburn and golden shades, it almost felt warmer than in summer. Because the harsh wind still kept up with its schedule. It blew in your face as you walked, rubbing against your cheeks.

When you got there, the lecture hall was still relatively empty. Only a few other people had taken their seats. This was the crucial moment of choosing your seat. Against all your own instincts, you walked down to the bottom of the auditorium, into the fourth row. You had never sat that closer to professor Dowling’s podium, too scared you would be too easy to notice and called to answer a question. But something in you told you to be brave.

Besides, you had the idea that Tom wasn’t eager to sit there either.

As much as those butterflies in your stomach fluttered at his mention, you didn’t want to talk to him now, not during class. You needed to pass this class badly and to do that, you needed to focus. Something you could not do with him sitting next to you.

That’s what you told yourself. It was, of course, true, but the bigger problem was that you were scared. Tom sounded like a nice guy, a very good looking nice guy, but Marie’s words played in your head. He was from a completely different world. And it was a scary one. Why not keep a bit of a safe distance at first?

So, you kept your head buried in your notebook as people started to stream into the room. One by one, the seats around you were getting occupied—none of them by Tom, for better or for worse.

_________________________________

It had taken Tom a while to find y/n. He walked into the room, thinking he had come in with plenty of time to spare, but as he was making his way down the steps, the professor was already making his way to the podium. Tom tried to look around the room as quickly as he could, but he could not see her. Where was she?

Professor Dowling coughed loudly, indicating for everyone to shut up and sit down, so he could start the lecture. Tom took the first empty seat he saw. An aisle seat somewhere around the 8th row. The course started, but Tom’s eyes stayed on the seats, looking for that braid.

It wasn’t a brilliant plan, because he had no idea if she had actually kept that braid in for another day. And she had not, in fact. He noticed her, sitting somewhere at the bottom of the class, as she grabbed her hair and was pulling it up into a bun. She did it so quickly, so smoothly, without ever letting her attention get away from her. Focused on the class. He could really learn something from her.

And he tried to take a page from her book as he finally looked ahead of him to see Dowling write an entire essay on the blackboard. He cursed himself and quickly started to type everything over. His fingers went in fully automatic mode, and he had no more idea what the words he was typing actually meant.

His mind had wandered off once again. He couldn’t stop feeling that disappointing pull at his heartstrings. He had hoped they could have had a repeat of yesterday. She apparently thought differently. Or maybe she had hoped he would sit next to her, but he was just too slow?

The lecture went on forever, felt like. Tom’s fingers were cramping up from typing so much, and he could feel his back beginning to hurt in the uncomfortable chair. He kept stealing quick glances at y/n, hoping to catch her in doing the same, but she had not moved once.

He had to get a grip. They had known each other for one day, spoken maybe ten sentences to each other in person. The rest was all through text. And nothing was the same via messages. Maybe all his feelings were coming from the entirely wrong place? Perhaps she was just polite, and he had misinterpreted it for casual flirting? Besides, there was that sweater of hers yesterday- what if she had a boyfriend?

But a part of him still wanted to ignore all those signs and go for it. So, when the bell rang, and professor Dowling finally dismissed the class, Tom made sure he was one of the first ones outside. The large hall had two exits, so he stood against a wall, somewhere in the middle between both doors, hoping to catch y/n as she was walking out.

The loud rumbling of thunder caught his attention momentarily.

It was just a second, he swore to himself. But the second was enough to miss her. Somehow she had escaped him, nowhere to be found.

_________________________________

You had seen Tom waiting out in front of the room, and you felt horrible for walking the exact opposite direction. For the sake of your own feelings, you didn’t look back at any point on your way to your second lecture.

As Professor Phillips spoke, you felt your phone vibrate.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: where are you? :)

The little smiley made heat up in the cheeks, but you tried to ignore that as you typed out a response. You didn’t even click the notification to go to the app, just responded through the shortcut.

(y/n): had another class

Another notification popped up not long after.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: wanna meet up later?

(y/n): ngl I don’t feel well, will probably head back home right after

(y/n): but i’d love to chat

You shut off your phone, too scared to see the reply. Maybe it wasn’t the best move since you could not think about anything else for the remainder of the class. When you checked your phone again on your way back to the dorms your heart was lifted.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: of course. hope you feel better <3

_________________________________

Tom tried to think that she wasn’t avoiding him. After all, they texted almost every possible second that they had the time for the past week

They had talked about pretty much anything and everything. And it felt great. The way they spoke to each other, or at least Tom to her, was as if they had known each other for ages.

Tom only wished he could do that with her from across a table, or a on a bench. Where ever, he didn’t care. He wanted to be able to look into her eyes as they talked and see her smile. Hear that lol and not just imagine it.

Unfortunately, y/n was kind of giving him the cold shoulder in the real life. She ignored him during classes, and was gone before he could get the chance to talk to her. Whenever he asked if they could meet, she’d give him some reason she couldn’t. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had actually already met in real life, he had vary valid reasons to think he was being catfished.

Another reason could have been that she sounded too perfect.

It was the next Tuesday already, and Tom was waiting eagerly for the lecture to end. It had been a full week and he had decided, while copying some of Dowling’s notes, that he would talk to y/n today. After class.

Tomorrow would be the opening of the Sterling and he wanted to ask her if she wanted to come.Or at least to know if she wanted to hang out ever. If the truth came to be no, he would be fine with that. He respected that. He just needed to know. It wouldn’t take away from the fact how great it was to have someone to talk to, even if it was only through text bubbles.

The bell rang and Tom sprinted out. He kept his eyes on both doors as best as possible and finally saw her.

_________________________________

“Hey, y/n!” you heard your name being called from behind you. It was from Tom. He waved to you so would come over. Taking a deep breath, you decided to wave back, but your legs were frozen in place.

You felt absolutely terrible for ignoring him and denying his various invitations to hang out or to go anywhere, but it was just too terrifying. You were scared of fucking it up. Of it to turn out to be one big joke. You had heard of frat guys using dates and hookups as dares and shit. You didn’t want that. You couldn’t let that happen.

But when you saw Tom smile at you, those worries suddenly disappeared and your legs moved without connecting to your brain. Suddenly, you found your spot next to him.

He had been leaning against the wall with one foot, his arms crossed. You decided to lean against it with your shoulder. Even though you had your sweater, you could feel the grizzly texture of the bare red brick. He smiled and mirrored your movement, so you were only a few inches apart. ,

“Hey,” he said, still with the smile on his face.

“Hey,” you replied.

Tom uncrossed his arms to brush his fingers through his hair. As you watched him do so, you couldn’t help imagine how it would feel to play with his hair. It looked so soft.

“I just wanted to say,” he licked his lips. You were so close to each other that you could see how pink and chapped they were. Focus. “How much fun I had the past week. It’s bee really great talking to you.”

“I had fun too,” you said. It really was nice talking to Tom. Especially now, standing so close to him, you could smell the coffee he had consumed that morning. Was it pumpkin spice? You felt stupid for not letting it happen sooner.

“Great, that’s- that’s really great to hear. I said great already, didn’t I?” He laughed, shaking his head, “Anyway, I was thinking: a couple of friends of mine are going to the opening of this new bar, the Sterling, it’s probably going to be a bit boring, but I thought, maybe you’d like to come? With me?” He looked at you with those big brown eyes. Your mind started racing a million miles an hour at his words. The fuzzy warm feeling that you got from looking at his smile was dispersing and setting in for anxiety.

He wanted you to go to a bar with him and his friends? Would that be considered a date? For the sake of your dignity, you decided against asking for clarification. It didn’t matter. You couldn’t go to some dingy bar with strangers, even if one of them was Tom. You could already feel your body heating up in anxiety as all the horrible scenarios played out in your head.

You realised you had been quiet for a while and Tom was still looking at you hopefully.

“No,” you blurted out. “I mean, I can’t. Sorry.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Totally. Maybe another time? Or if you don’t wanna go there, we could go somewhere else?”

“Uhh,” you couldn’t breath. All his suggestions were so sweet, but it felt too overwhelming to answer. Thankfully, the clock tower at the other end of campus rang and indicated the quarter of an hour. Your next class would soon start, and it was about a five-minute walk to get to.

“I have to go.” you pointed back and started walking, but Tom grabbed your hand gently, just enough by your fingertips.

“Sorry, I just- if you don’t want to hang out with me, that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend to like me, no hurt feelings. I don’t want you to-”

“I do, Tom,” you told him with a compassionate smile. Then you looked back at the clock. “But I really got to go.”

“Right, sorry.” he let go of your hand, and you ran off to your next course.

_________________________________

“Who was that?”

As soon as y/n ran off, Tom heard the voice coming from next to him. Zendaya popped up out of nowhere, an unlit cigarette hanging between her lips as she leaned in the same spot y/n had.

“Just a friend,” Tom shrugged. That’s what they were, after all. If even. He hoped he could describe someone he had mainly only spoken through texts with as a friend.

“You sure about that?” Zendaya smirked. “Cause by the looks of it, she’s got you pretty hooked. You were basically begging her to go out with you, bro.”

“Yeah, well, forcefulness isn’t exactly an aphrodisiac, is it?” he sighed then almost turned pale at the words he had said. Zendaya didn’t say anything, just nodded and took out her glittery lighter.

“Could you not?” Tom pulled the cigarette out of her mouth before she could light it and put it in his pocket. “We’re inside, for fucks sake.”

“Fine, but tell me who this friend of yours is.” She nodded her head back into the direction that y/n ran in.

“I don’t really know. I mean I do, but- Basically we met last week before class. Then I found her on Instagram and DM’d her-”

“You slid into her DMs? Bro,” she laughed.

“Call it what you want, it was the only way of reaching her I had.”

“Fine, so you like her, yeah?”

“I guess.” Tom didn’t like sharing his feelings. It put him in this vulnerable position that he was not used to. Zendaya knew that, yet still she pushed him to do it almost every time they talked.

“For what it’s worth, I think she likes you too,” she said.

“How so?” he questioned hesitantly. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Zendaya had pulled that trick on him to date someone. And it had not ended well.

“Well, body language for one, she felt comfortable enough around you to stand close to you, facing you; she smiled at your rants which, props to her, is hard to do.”

“How long had you been watching us, exactly?” Tom asked a bit freaked out. Zendaya ignored the question.

“Believe me, she likes you. She’s just scared.” she pulled out another cigarette from her pocket, “also, taking a girl to a shithole like the Sterling for your first date? I’m glad she said no. Set some standards, man.” And with that lovely comment, she walked away. She didn’t have to see Tom flipping her off, she knew he would do it, and she replied lovingly in the same way.

That’s what you got for being friends with psychology majors.

_________________________________

The first thing you did after walking out of your second class was to check your phone if you had received any messages from Tom. There was nothing. So you decided to message him yourself.

(your account)

Hey Sorry I ran away like that And basically anytime after class and making those dumb excuses not to meet up Just so you know I do really wanna hang out with you I’m just not really great with crowds or with places like bars and stuff And ive also never really been asked to go anywhere with anyone, like personally Idk why im telling you this. I’m definitely rambling Texting is definitely easier than talking huh Sorry for all this

It took Tom two minutes to see your messages and to respond.

(tomholland2013)

It’s totally okay. I get it And sorry if i made you uncomfortable with all that. Can i come to your place tonight? Or how about we go to Le Moulin?

Le Moulin. You had been there before. You could do that. With trembling fingers of excitement, you replied

(your account)

Deal. Around 7?

(tomholland2013)

Sounds perfect. See u then

_________________________________

Tommo: Hey guys, sorry but im gonna have to skip on tonight

This short message was seen and very much not appreciated by his friends. None of the replies could be seen as appropriate for day-time television. Except for the one Zendaya had sent him through their personal chat. It was simple,

Z: 👍

With the entire afternoon off, Tom made sure he looked somewhat decent for the night. He took a shower. Washed his hair and made sure it was extra soft. He wasn’t sure what y/n thought of it, but from past experiences, he knew that usually, girls loved his hair. Thinking about other girls was probably not the best mindset, though. Still, his hair did look really good. He brushed his fingers through it.

It had not yet stopped raining, which was a bit of a problem, but he hoped she wouldn’t mind getting a bit wet. For the sake of it, he took an umbrella with him. Luckily it wasn’t very windy, so it actually came to good use. The walk from the frat house to the dorm that y/n said she lived in wasn’t too far away, and fortunately on the way to the place he had in mind to take her to.

On his way over, he thought about what Zendaya had told him.

Was y/n scared? Of what?

They had talked about that kind of stuff briefly, during the weekend, and she and said that she suffered from anxiety. Tom just thought it was stuff like giving a presentation in class. He hadn’t even thought about the more social aspect of it. And here he was pushing all those things at her like going to some bar with strangers. Jesus, why did he have to be such a dumbass?

The dorm complex had a buzzer system like a regular apartment complex, so he searched for her name on the long list, and pressed the button next to it.

“Hello?” It was her roommate, Marie, that answered.

“Hey, it’s Tom. I’m here to pick up y/n.” He could hear some indistinct giggling coming from the other side of the line.

“Of course, c’mon up. But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit.” Next followed the buzzer, and the doors opened for him. The number on the button said 54, so he assumed it had to be on the fifth floor. When he walked up to the door with that number, he was greeted with a colourful collage of rock bands whose hair was probably more impressive than their vocal range, which said a lot considering Queen was on it.

He knocked and waited for someone to open. y/n was the one to do it. She stood frozen in the door, only a towel wrapped around her body.

“I thought we said seven?” she said, her voice a bit higher than usual.

“It’s quarter past seven!” Marie shouted out from inside the dorm. y/n cursed.

“Shit, sorry, I lost complete track of time. Give me ten minutes, okay?” she held up a finger so he would wait here. Tom nodded and let her close the door again. He could still hear her yell at Marie as to why she had not told her she was running late, to which Marie only responded with hysterical laughter.

“Holland?” someone in the hallway asked a few minutes later. Tom turned in the direction to see a guy with a head full of bed hair poke out of his doorway (which was covered in pictures of death metal posters and my little ponies). He stepped out in the hallway to reveal he was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny and tight briefs, leaving little to the imagination.

“Oh hey… Crocker,” he called the guy by his preferred nickname.

“Hey man, what are you doing here?” Crocker asked. The way his eyes were almost ruby red and the stench coming from his room, Tom presumed that the guy was higher than a kite.

“Oh you know, waiting for a date, heh.” He said a bit awkwardly, pointing back to door 54.

“Ah, getting some of that French jay nehsuh gwaa.”

Tom looked confused. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard someone butcher a language that badly. Well, probably, but he didn’t remember it. He kind of understood what Crocker meant, though.

“No, I’m here for y/n. Not Marie.”

“Damn? Really.” Crocker started to giggle, which might as well just have been a side effect from whatever he had smoked up in his room.

“Yeah?” He wasn’t sure how else to react. Crocker just shrugged and walked back into his room, smashing the door closed. Tom turned slowly, not sure what exactly had happened just then. And he turned right on time too, because the door of dorm 54 opened and y/n walked out. Wearing a raincoat over a sweater and jeans. She also had a pair of black ankle boots on. Tom could not help but smile at the sight of her.

“Sorry about that,” she said, the nervousness in her voice was unmistakable.

“First,” Tom spoke, remembering one of his earlier worries from days ago, “you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?” The question made her laugh.

“I very much do not. Why did you think that?”

“The sweater you wore when we met. It had that whole stole-it-from-my-boyfriend vibe.”

“No, I haven’t had anyone to steal clothes from in a long time.” she shook her head. Tom extended his hand for her to take, which she gladly did. It felt amazing.

“So what will you be ordering?”

“Ice cream,” Tom answered, almost matter-of-factly.

_________________________________

“Ice cream?” you asked to make sure you had heard him correctly. He nodded in agreement. “Don’t you think it’s a bit cold for that?”

“No.” He said bluntly, which really sold the case for you. You were on your way again.

You could hear the rain pound against the main door before you even reached the ground floor, and it only got harder and louder the nearer you got. Tom, being a true gentleman, opened the door for you, but you were a bit hesitant to walk outside.

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” he let you hold the door so he could step through the threshold and push open the umbrella. You noticed it was a Delta Kappa umbrella. They really made merch of everything. As he put the umbrella up, he extended his arm for you to intertwine yours through. Then, you walked.

Though it was relatively early, the sky was pitch black because of how early the sun set those days and the dark clouds that had been pestering the sky that entire day. Not a star was to be seen. The rain tapped heavily against the umbrella, and you tried to stay as close to Tom as possible. The excuse, of course, was to not get wet but really you wanted to enjoy the warmth that he was giving off. At one point you had changed position from just having your arm over his, to him wrapping his arm over your shoulder.

You walked down a brightly lit path, so you could see everything around you. The trees, the cars passing by, the building. So, when you saw the little café at the end of the street, you squealed.

While there were plenty of bars, pubs and clubs to go to around town, so there were restaurants and cafés. And while restaurants really weren’t your thing, you loved to sit in one of the cosy coffee shops with a cup of tea or coffee and read a good book. Another fun thing about all those places was that they were very internationally orientated, speaking to the wide variety of students that the university had. Le Moulin was of course based on a Parisian café. You had actually found it together with Marie, in hopes she could have something that felt a bit closer to home. Though it didn’t come close to the real magic of the French capital, it still had plenty of its charm in it. Not to mention, the pain du chocolats were to die for!

Yet, you had never actually had ice cream from their menu.

You still weren’t sure if today would be the day for it. By the time you wear under the little entrance roof, you were freezing, and so was Tom, visibly.

“Are you still sure about the ice cream?” you asked him as he closed the umbrella.

“Hot chocolate?” he suggested, suddenly fluent in your love language: chocolate and hot drinks (it was a very simplified version of said love language).

This time Tom got to be the real gentleman as he let you walk inside first. He dropped the umbrella in the stand, together with a few others. When you looked around the café, you saw that a few more couples were enjoying the cosiness. A sweet melody was playing from the speakers. The rain had also softened outside, and together with the vintage sounds of guitar and vocals, it gave the perfect atmosphere for the night.

You had barely stepped inside when one of the waiters walked up. He smiled and said: “Your table is ready,” which surprised you, but Tom took you by the hand, and you both followed the waiter to one of the tables next to the wall, where one side had a couch instead of the usual chairs. You sat down first, taking off your jacket. Tom was going to sit opposite you, but now it was your turn to grab his hand.

“Slide in.”

He smiled and sat down. He probably didn’t need any convincing and just wanted to hear you say that you wanted him to sit next to you. You didn’t mind that.

“Should I prepare the order?” the waiter asked as you made yourself comfortable, again confusing the hell out of you.

“Actually, scrap that. We’ll have two large hot chocolates.” Tom said.

“With cinnamon!” you added.

“One with cinnamon.” Tom corrected. The waiter nodded and walked off.

“Don’t like cinnamon?” you quizzed, to which Tom shrugged.

“It’s alright, just not a big fan.” Both of you looked around the room. You had never been in the café at night, so you hadn’t even realised that the walls were covered in soft gold lights, giving it all that much more the feeling as if you had stepped into a fairytale.

“I didn’t know this place took reservations.”

“I’m not sure either,” Tom replied, you noticed he had his arm draped around you again, “I just called to be sure.”

“Really?” That split you up into two. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that he had made a special call to the café to get, probably, the best seat in the house. On the other side, you were freaking out for a few reasons. He had put in quite the effort in an almost last minute notice of plans, while you were fifteen minutes late. That was embarrassing enough. And this reservation basically put you in a spotlight for the entire business, which was really not ideal. You didn’t want to be noticed.

“Hey,” he whispered and squeezed his grip around you lightly, “everything okay?”

“Huh? Mhm,” you nodded your head and smiled, trying not to think about how the waiters might be judging you.

“I saw you had posted a picture from this place on your Instagram, and I used to come here a while back, so I thought it would be cool, but if you don’t like it-”

“It’s perfect,” you made up your mind. In the end, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. You felt safe, sitting on the little couch, next to Tom.

Soon after, the waiter came back with two mugs of hot chocolate. When Tom ordered large ones, they delivered. The mugs might as well have been cereal bowls, topped with a peak of whipped cream and cocoa powder, and a cinnamon stick in your cup to distinguish the two drinks.

“Et voila!” the waiter put the cups down. You thanked him, and he was gone again.

There were spoons, but you decided to stir your chocolate with the cinnamon stick.

Still with his arm around you, Tom took his mug up to his lips. With the feeling of having him so close to you, you wondered what this really was. What if he just wanted to be friends and spend some time with you? Had he noticed how sad and lonely you were, and did he want to take his pity out on you? Were you a charity act for him? God, you hoped not. You really really hoped not.

“Tom?” You looked at him, to see his eyes dart in your direction. His top lip was covered in whipped cream. You gestured it to him, slightly giggling, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. How was someone that hot, so adorable?

“You were saying?” he said, putting the mug down on the table in front of you.

“I was just wondering,” Be quick, get it over with, you’ll feel better when you say it. “is this a date?”

“Do you want it to be? It doesn’t have to.” He added the second part quickly after.

“I- I think I do,” I smiled. Though he had just put his mug down, he picked it right back up, you did the same.

“Then a date it is.” You clinked cups. Still, something felt off. You were holding the cup up to your lips, but just far enough not to be able to drink from it. Your eyes glazed over as you focused them on the mural in front of you. It was of the Paris skyline. With the Eiffel tower in the middle, the Arc de Triomphe a bit to the left, on the other side stood the two symmetrical towers of the Notre Dame cathedral. It was probably geographically inaccurate, just good enough to keep everyone who had never been to the City of Love satisfied.

“Okay, something’s up.” Tom brought you back to the date. “What’s wrong? And, please, be honest.”

“I don’t know,” you huffed out a laugh. “But before you start to freak out, it’s nothing to do with you, I swear.”

“So, you kind of know what it is about.” he raised an eyebrow. He had a point. If you knew what it was not, it meant you knew what it was, indeed.

“I, uhm,” suddenly you felt very much aware of everything and everyone around you. Were they listening? “Well, I really want to apologise for being so distant outside of Instagram.”

“There’s really no need for that, darling,” he said. “I understand it, and should have been a bit more considerate. I should have realised sooner that bars and shit aren’t your cup of tea.. or hot chocolate.”

You both laughed.

“Yeah,” you were smiling, but the word came out a bit as a sigh, conveying your all the troubling thoughts that were going on in your brain.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Tom saw through it. You bit your lip, not sure how to say it. You didn’t want to say it. He would probably think you were a joke. Besides, all those people around. Some of them from your school. They could probably hear every word you were saying.

“Do you maybe want to text it to me?” he suggested with a kind smile. You hadn’t realised when he had moved, but he had let go of your shoulders, and his hand was now on top of yours. His thumb moved slowly over your skin, reassuring you that, whatever it was, it was okay.

How you hoped it was.

You grabbed your phone and started to type out your message, taking a deep breath before sending it to him. You heard the vibration in his pocket, and with it, your heart skipped with anxiety. Tom kept holding on to your hand as he took out his phone and read the text. His eyes shot wide open.

“Wait, really?”

_________________________________

“Never?” he asked, to which she bit her lip and shook her head.

No, it wasn’t possible.

“How has no one- nooo,”

“It just… never got far enough- No, I mean, ugh,” she finally took a sip of her hot chocolate. Tom had to admit that it was cute how that was her go-to frustration action. She wiped off the whipped cream from her lip. Tom couldn’t stop looking at them, they were just so perfect. He wanted to feel her, to taste her. He wouldn’t even mind the taste of cinnamon that would have remained on them.

“There was just never a guy that made me think, oh yeah, I want to kiss him,” she said after another sip of the hot chocolate.

“So, you’d want to kiss me?”

“Shut up,” she said glaring, but just to hide the big smile on her face.

“Sorry, I just can’t believe you’ve never been kissed.” She flinched a bit at his words. “I don’t mean it in that way. You shouldn’t be ashamed of never being kissed. Sometimes it happens early on, sometimes it doesn’t. If it wasn’t for my pledge, I don’t think I would have had my first kiss till last year.” He confessed. y/n looked at him with eyebrows that had a twist of disbelief in them.

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear,” Tom laughed, putting his hands up. “So really, no judgement here.” Then he leaned in to whisper into her ear, “and I definitely won’t mind breaking you in,” He couldn’t keep a straight face saying it, and neither could she. He had thought it would make her nervous or flushed, but she just slapped him on his arms teasingly.

“In your dreams, Holland.”

“Fuck, I hope so.” That made her freeze, just for a second though. “Shit, too much?” He asked, afraid he had finally taken it too far with his inappropriate humour.

“No, you’re good.” She took another sip of her hot chocolate, allowing Tom to do so as well.

“See, just because I’ve never been kissed, it immediately puts me under this label of being a prude or something, but I’m really not. I’ve just- had a really shitty love life.” Or just a complete lack of it.

“Well, I hope to change that.” He leaned in again and pecked her cheek. That finally got him the flushed reaction he had hoped for.

“You already did.”

_________________________________

Your hand moved up to your cheek, hovering above the area that he had kissed. You felt like an idiot, but with Tom, it didn’t even feel like a bad thing.

“We’ve known each other for less than two days, and I can already tell you, you’re way up there in the list of good dates.”

“Way up there? Give me stats.” He nudged on. You thought for a second.

“At least… top ten.”

“Top five? Oh C’mon, babe, I think I’m a bit better than that. Not to toot my own horn, of course.”

“Top five.” You said, ignoring the butterflies that had escaped in your stomach. He glared at you. You glared back, keeping your eyes on each other for another moment until he had dipped his finger in his hot chocolate and pressed it against your nose. You blinked in confusion.

“That just moved you down to number six.”

“Well, shit.” Tom leaned in and licked the whipped cream off your nose. As disgusting as it should have been, you burst into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in his chest to not disturb the rest of the restaurant. While you were trying to calm down, you felt Tom kiss the top of your head a few times.

Finally, you sat up again.

“Top three,” you stated. It was good enough for Tom. For now.

You drank the rest of your drinks in the best silence possible that could be kept as both of you kept laughing at each other. Finally, the mugs were empty. Tom paid for everything and let you take the lead to walk outside with the umbrella. When you opened the door, however, you saw that the storm had now passed over into a light drizzle. You kept the umbrella closed.

You were already letting yourself get taken up by the rain when Tom was outside. You thought he would come to join you, but he stayed under the little roof, watching you with a big smile.

“Not afraid of the rain, are you?” you asked. “Or are you made of sugar?”

“All I can say is, come and find out for yourself.” You were already a few steps away, so you hopped over to him, took his hand and took the final step, so you were touching chest to chest. His other hand found its way on your hip. You saw his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. You smiled and pulled him in closer, making you take a step back and exposing him to the weather.

“Mutherfucker!” He gasped, not having expected that. “Ohh, you’re good.”

Before you knew what was happening, he had picked you up by the waist and spun you around. You squealed from surprise before the both of you started laughing again. Eventually, he had to put you back down again, and your eyes widened in horror when you saw him walk to a large puddle.

“No, Tom! No, no, no.!” He put you down right next to it. Probably an inch from the water edge.

“C’mon, I’m not that mean.” he pouted.

“Nah, you’re a softy,” you poked his cheek. He grabbed your hand.

“Oi, I wouldn’t go that far.” then kissed the tip of your index finger, which you had poked him with a second before.

“Too late, I guess.”

“You sure about that? You’re still really close to that puddle babe. We wouldn’t want any… accidents!” He gripped you by the waist again, and the sudden movement made you feel like he was gonna throw you down into the puddle. You shrieked but soon felt his arms still around you and no parts of your body were soaked (only moderately wet from the light rain) or on the ground. He was still holding you.

“You never answered me,” he said, his sweet laughter was gone, and his eyes were on your lips again.

“Answer what?” you kept looking at his face as a whole, taking in every detail. The way his nose scrunched when droplets of rain well on it. How one of his eyebrows was more bushy and irregular than the other. The dimple in his chin, his freckles- everything.

“If you wanted to kiss me.”

His golden-brown eyes were so warm, even in the dim street lights at night. His wet hair was sticking to his face, but framing it so nicely. His jaw was sharp, it didn’t seem like it should be real.

“I do.”

His lips. Though thin and a bit chapped, they still felt so soft. The sweet taste of chocolate, mixed in with the rain that had fallen in the few moments that you stood outside. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you in closer to him. It felt so good. So right.

You pulled away but with no idea how much time had gone by. His stands stayed in their position, his eyes searched yours for a reaction. Nothing came from it since you were still in an emotional daze.

Tom chuckled.

“Fuck, I should have slid into your DMs sooner.”

“Way to ruin the mood, Holland.”

“Oh, you love it.” He said before pulling you into another kiss.

The END

> song played in Le Moulin: Rendez-vous sous la pluie (Jean Sablon)

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to see more of this au cause i really enjoyed writing it :)

> if anyone has a comment about how it had only been a day since they met etc. i wrote this 15k story in the span of 24 hours. i wish i could have added more to it but at this point, i am physically and emotionally exhausted and do not want to make it even longer.

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @spiderrrling @captainpeggy40 @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @chloecreatesfictions-archive @fallinfortom @bitchydecisions @okokimfreakingoutahh @cicicantblog @musicalkeys @joyleenl @multifandomdoodles121 @awkwardfangirl2014 @marvelouspeterparker

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #frat!au #fratboy tom #college!tom #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #stranger to lovers #college!au

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ericsangyeon · 4 years ago

Text

black lace and birthday cake - l.sy

“Look so good yeah, look so sweet. Baby you deserve a treat.”

pairing: sangyeon x female! reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: suggestive, fluff

theme: sangyeon’s birthday gang au

warnings: SMUT!!, profanity, alcohol

a/n: hey guys! i’m back with my long awaited sequel! this can be read as a stand alone but it does take place in the same universe as my other story addicted. again please be nice i’m still not used to writing smut. this was also edited but there could be mistakes! enjoy it! -t :D

playlist moodboard

“Do you have anything for Sangyeons birthday? It's in two days.” Kevin asks me while we are in the Starbucks line.

“No not yet. Honestly, I was going to cook him dinner or something. He's been too busy anyways.” I answer him as we move up.

“Boring!! You have been dating for how long? You should surprise him with something he would love.” Kevin says. All of a sudden his eyes widened. “Oh my gosh I have an idea!” He yells a little too loudly.

“Kevin Moon, I swear to god... But let's hear it.” I roll my eyes at him.

“You should dr- Wait, let me order first and then I'll tell you.” Kevin snickers and walks up to the counter, with me in tow.

After getting our drinks, Kevin and I started to walk around the mall. We’re killing time before our afternoon classes, and Kevin wanted to buy a pair of shoes for himself.

“You never told me what I should do for Sang’s birthday.” I nagged Kevin.

He smirked. “You should go to his apartment the day of, send him a picture of yourself in the lingerie your about to buy and then give him the best sex of his and your life” Kevin says proudly.

My eyes widened and before I can protest, Kevin continues his idea.

“I know you guys have had a crazy sex life. Don’t try to argue, it's obvious with all the turtlenecks you wear. He has been busy with the gang, and this will forsure make him come to you. Quite literally.” Kevin explains to me before taking my hand.

“I guess? I mean, I've been really horny lately and the combination of my vibrator and sexting does nothing for me.” I say to Kevin. He laughs and drags me into Victoria’s Secret.

“Ahh, this is exciting! You're gonna pick out some sexy lingerie! I swear, you’ll get Sangyeon coming in his pants before he even gets his hands on you.”

“Shut up,” I try to say but instead, I blush hard. We proceed to walk over to the lingerie section, as I eye the mannequins on display. Maybe this isn't such a bad idea after all.

November 4th. Sangyeons birthday.

The person looking back at me in my mirror was completely different. I had curled my hair into loose ringlets that rested on my face. I did my eyeshadow with a smokey dark colour, and left my lips bare, as it would all be removed anyways. On my body is a black lace push up bra that barely covers my breasts, with matching panties that highlight my ass. Attached to the underwear on both legs are garters that rest on my upper thighs. Pleased with how I look, I smiled at myself and prepare to leave.

I grab my overnight bag, as I probably will need it. I put on my silver heels and black long coat, and I leave my apartment. On the way to his penthouse, I stopped at the bakery to pick up the cake I had ordered for him earlier today.

Pulling into Sangyeon’s private garage, I park my car and spot Younghoon, the lead bodyguard of the penthouse. I get out of my car and walk over to him.

“Good afternoon Ms. Y/Ln. Sangyeon isnt home.” Younghoon greets me.

“I know, thank you. I want to surprise him for his birthday!” I reply back, smiling.

“Oh okay! Well I’ll leave you to it. I’ll even stay on the garage floor for you.” He says with a hint of teasing.

I roll my eyes and laugh. “I’ll call you if anything goes wrong. Thanks Hoon, you're the best!” I flash him my best smile as he opens the elevator door for me and laughs.

When I get up to Sangyeons penthouse, I am greeted with no staff at all.

“I guess he sent his staff home today thinking he would crash at the mob house.” I think to myself. Due to the high volume of work, Sangyeon has been staying at the TBZ house lately, which is why I never get to see him.

I reach his bedroom, and remove my long coat to hide in his closet. I prop my phone up on his night table, set up the camera to a timer, and proceed to take a risky picture of myself.

“I really hope this works.” I think to myself posing as the timer goes off. I grabbed my phone and my jaw dropped.

It was a picture of myself dressed in the black lingerie, kneeling on his bed. There in perfect HD, are my hard nipples poking through the bra, and my legs spread on my knees to reveal my pussy covered in black lace fabric connected to garders on my thighs.

It was great. I pulled up Sangyeons contact and sent him the picture.

“And now we wait.” I say out loud as I lean back into his bed.

Forty painful minutes later, my phone vibrates next me as I lay on his bed. I roll over to check that it is a message back from Sangyeon, which I open in anticipation.

I'm coming back early, you better be on the bed when I get home. The text read. My eyes widen, and a flash of desire and giddiness shoots through my body, almost leaving me breathless with arousal. I could feel my clit starting to ache with this wave of emotion.

Before I can even remove my panties to relieve the pressure on my clit, I hear the front door to the penthouse open. I jump and rearrange myself so that I'm sitting with my legs dangling from the huge bed. I hear him drop something, and his shuffling getting closer and closer to me. I'm about to call out Sangyeon’s name when the bedroom door swings open.

There Sangyeon stands, suit jacket off and the top buttons of his shirt undone. His eyes are on fire, travelling down my body like he's about to devour me. I stare back at him frozen, as I let myself be torn apart by Sangyeon’s gaze. Finally, his eyes meet mine, and his lips curve into a smirk.

“You're a bad girl.” He whispers.

“What did I do?” I play innocent.

“You know, how you sent me that picture while I was in a meeting just to get me riled up. Do you know the effect you have on me? I could have embarrassed myself in front of the powerful European gang.” Sangyeon growls. He starts to walk towards me slowly, every step he took making me more aroused.

Sangyeon grabs my face roughly and crashes his lips on mine. The brown haired man pushes me down onto the bed and hovers over me. He kisses me roughly, entering his tongue into my mouth when I part my lips. My hands reach up to his shirt, undoing the buttons fast to reveal his beautiful upper body. I press my hands on his abs, making him gasp into my mouth. I didn't even realize Sangyeon had taken my bra off, until his lips left mine made their way down to my bare breasts.

“Your tits are beautiful.” Sangyeon coos, bringing his mouth down. He catches my left nipple into his mouth and sucks on it softly while using his hand to fondle with my right breast. I let out a loud sigh, as he switches to the right. But when Sangyeon starts to leave open mouth kisses down my stomach, I use this chance to flip him over, making me on top.

“Y/N, baby, I'm always on top. What are you doing?” Sangyeon asks me.

“It's your birthday, let me spoil you for once.” I reply mischievously.

“Baby its okay, I dont m- fuck!” He growls as I leave an open mouth kiss above his belt.

I smirk at him as I undo his belt, and remove his pants and boxers. Sangyeons huge cock springs out, hard and angry. I pump it twice before sinking my mouth down fast.

Sangyeon hisses a string of curses and reaches to grab my hair out of my face.

“Fuck baby slow down. I still want to fuck you later.” He snarls as I moan onto his cock.

Sangyeon takes my hair and motions my head up and down on his cock. I gag when it reaches the back of my throat, tears starting to form in my eyes.

“That’s it, princess. You take my cock so well. You're doing so well, baby.” He murmurs under his breath, loud enough for me to hear.

Sangyeon grunts loud as I feel his hot cum hit my mouth. I swallow as much as I can, and pull off to meet his eyes.

“God, those eyes. They kill me.” Sangyeon whispers as he reaches over to my face and wipes off some of his cum that got on my lips. I smiled at him, but it was not returned.

“Now I'm in control, baby. Your fun is over.” Sangyeon says quickly before kissing me. He pulls off my lips slowly, lingering there.

“I want you to take your panties off and sit on my face. Let me taste that beautiful cunt of yours.” He says against my lips. I nod my head, feeling my giddiness come back.

Sangyeon repositions himself so that he's lying against his pillows. I stand up and slowly unbuckle the garter that was holding my panties up. I turn around and remove my lace underwear slowly, my ass in Sangyeon’s face.

Before I could even think, I felt his hands on my hips. Sangyeon lifts me up and places me on his face, mouth touching my pussy. Sangyeon presses an open mouth kiss onto my clit, and starts to lick and suck it fast.

“Ah Sangyeon yes!” I moan loud as my hands grip the headboard.

I begin to ride his face, grinding on his lips. Sangyeon slaps my ass hard, gripping my waist and I think I am seeing stars.

“Right there, yes! Fuck I’m gonna cum.” I tilt my head back and moan, speeding up the pace. He proceeds to stretch my pussy out with his fingers, and adds two inside without any warning.

This is too much for me to handle. I scream as I feel myself cum all over Sangyeon’s mouth and two fingers. He removes his fingers and kisses my clit softly. I roll off of him, and try to catch my breath.

“You taste so good always Y/N.” Sangyeon praises and runs his hand through my hair

All of a sudden. Sangyeon picks me up and walks over to the huge glass window that overlooks the city. I felt the cold glass hit my bare back, which caused me to hiss at the contact.

As I tried to turn myself around to admire the view, my back is full on slammed against the glass window. Sangyeon holds my waist and enters my pussy slowly, letting me adjust to his huge size.

“You're so goddamn tight.” I hear him whisper. I wrap my legs around his torso, making it easier for us to both adjust.

I let out a moan to let him know he bottomed out. Sangyeon removes his cock from my pussy and slams back into me fast. I scream as I feel his fingers dig into my hip bones.

His thrusts become so fast quickly and I'm helpless against him. I wrap my arms around his neck and capture his lips in a messy kiss, moaning against his mouth.

“You like that princess? Everyone seeing me fuck your tight pussy against the window? Sangyeon grunts into my ear,

I moan back, too overwhelmed to answer. He slaps my ass and presses me harder into the glass.

“Answer me, brat.” Sangyeon hisses.

“Yes Sangyeon, oh my god!” I answer him with the only words I can think of.

I can tell his orgasm is close as he pulls me to him as close as possible and thrusts into me deeply.

“FUCK!” Sangyeon yells as I feel his cum enter my pussy. He still is fucking me hard, as I feel the familar knot in my stomach.

“Sangyeon!” I scream and grip his neck as I cum.

We both fall onto the bedroom floor. Sangyeon pulls out of me and cradels my shaking body into a hug. Out of breath and overwhelmed, I feel myself start to cry.

“No baby why are you crying? You did so well. So beautiful for me, always.” Sangyeon cooes into my ear while I sob into his chest.

I look up at him. “I didn't mean to cry, that was just so amazing.” I reply softly, making him chuckle.

“Cmon, I’ll run a bath for us.” Sangyeon says as he picks me up bridal style.

We leave his bedroom and walk to the guest bathroom. A huge jacuzzi style bath rests against a glass window. Sangyeon places me gently in the tub and turns the water on. He grabs the soap and shampoo from the cupboard, placing it next to the tub. He gets in as well, and moves me so my back is against his chest. I feel him start to lather shampoo into my hair as I start to doze off.

“I hope you liked your birthday gift. I missed you a lot and wanted to do something out of the box for you.” I say tiredly to Sangyeon as he pours water over my hair.

“You're my gift everyday. I know sometimes my job gets in the way.” Sangyeon sighed. “I wish it was different, trust me. I hope you know I love you so much.” He places a kiss on the crown of my head.

“I love you too Sangyeon.” I reply to him grinning.

Sangyeon helps me stand up so he can wash my body. As I stand up, I start to grimace from the dull aches on my waist and thighs. Sangyeon notices that and frowns as he puts soap on his hands.

“I hope I didn't hurt you that much.” He says while running his hands softly over the bruise forming on my right hip.

“Don’t worry. I like the pain.” I smirk as Sangyeon rolls his eyes and laughs, making me laugh as well.

After another 10 minutes of Sangyeon and I washing each other, we both get out of the bath and change into matching white robes.

“Go wait on the balcony.” I tell Sangyeon and kiss his cheek.

When I hear him close the balcony door, I go to his kitchen to grab the small cake I got for him, as well as wine and wine glasses. I place the cake and glasses on a tray and pour the wine. I grab the candles and matches I stashed in a cupboard and light them on the cake.

When I reach the balcony, Sangyeon opens the door for me, and his face goes shocked.

“Y/N you didn't have to do that for me.” He says.

I place the tray down on the balcony table.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Sangyeon. Happy birthday to you.” I sang to him grinning.

He pulls me in for a back hug as he blows out his candles. I notice the sun is setting, so I remove myself from his grasp and turn around to watch.

Sangyeon appears next to me and takes my hand.

“What did you wish for?” I ask him looking straight ahead.

“Nothing. I already have everything I need here right now.” Sangyeon turns to me and brings my hand to his lips, kissing it softly. I roll my eyes and stare back at him.

“You're such a cliche.”

“You love it.”

I kiss him with so much passion. Sangyeon grabs my waist softly and kisses back the same, as I wrap my arms around his neck. We part slowly, pecking each other a few times

That night, Sangyeon and I spoon feed each other cake until we are both full. I end up falling asleep on the balcony chair. Sangyeon brings me to his bedroom, and tucks me in.

“I had a great day with you. Goodnight Y/N sweet dreams.” Sangyeon mumbles as he presses a kiss to my temple. He climbs into bed as well and wraps me in his arms.

I dream of cake, black lace, and my dream man, Lee Sangyeon.

i hope you enjoyed! sorry if it was rushed i wanted to get it out asap hehe

make sure to support the boyz on kingdom and vote on whosfan! :D

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sebstanseabass · 3 years ago

Text

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 1

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Story Description:

❝It's like an afterglow.❞

❝Yes, like an afterglow. If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable.❞

❝A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset. But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people, are some things you can never miss.❞

But there's one little detail you had missed, that you both missed: that you've already met years earlier.

You're a 25-year old photographer and part-time bartender, and has heard countless stories about the adventures of your roommate's stepbrother, Bucky Barnes -- a clumsy, party-driven 38-year old businessman. One day, you stumble upon Bucky inside your apartment on a Saturday night that would change both of your lives forever as you both take pleasure in the afterglow.

A/N: I already have this on Wattpad but with a female OC. This is my first ever Bucky Barnes fan fic and I hope you guys like it :)

CHAPTER ONE

"Hey, y/n. I think Nick wants to ask you out on a date." Peter Parker, your roommate, brought his beer bottle towards his mouth. His eyes were fixated somewhere while you were wiping droplets of beer on the countertop. You looked at his face features illuminated by the light from his laptop. "You should really put coasters here, y'know." he added.

"Shut it, Parker," You rolled your eyes at him, "or no more free drinks for you."

"He's into you." He sang and averted his eyes somewhere. You followed his gaze which was on Nick Miller who was talking to some loud blondes on the booth, taking their orders.

"I'm not talking to you anymore." You put your hand up, blocking Peter's face and walked away. You greeted some customers approaching the bar counter. "Good evening, gentlemen, what would you like to drink?"

"Shots of tequila," one replied, "and keep 'em coming, doll!" The other three cheered which you knew annoyed Peter.

The bar was packed tonight. Saturdays were the only days New Yorkers were almost free for a chill drink hangout. College boys hang by the billiards table on the corner, office girls sip their margaritas on one of the booths, thirty-year old women shoot darts on the dartboard as if the board were their husbands, thirty-year old dads with their caps on drinking hard beer on one of the tables, kids who just turned twenty-one ordering their first drink legally, lonely people by the jukebox or on the bar counter telling their sad tales to the bartender and Peter Parker casually drinking beer with a laptop in front of him.

"You really should stop doing your work here on the bar." You approached Peter once more. "You're bumming people out."

Peter raised an eyebrow, his eyes glued on the laptop. "You're bumming me out."

"Seriously, do your business work elsewhere. Go to a coffee place or something. Starbucks isn't that far."

"You know I work better with beer"

"How can I forget?"

You and Peter go way back. You two had met in business school and had been roommates ever since. While you would pull an all-nighter in your shared apartment, Peter would struggle to open the front door, dance around in the living room like he had left feet and threw his final papers on the floor. He'd end up waking up your other roommates, Mickey and Pablo (who would usually join him by the way), leaving poor you cleaning up their mess the next morning. You'd put Peter to bed, seeing as the other morons were incapable of doing so. The next day, Peter's bed would reek of the pungent smell of beer and cigarettes. Though he didn't smoke ("and I never will!"), cigarette smoke disgustingly clung to his clothes and skin, which you found rather unpleasant. Even with all the alcohol in his system, Peter managed to pass all his exams and graduate with flying colors. You hated that.

"I don't get why you drink so much during exam week." You sighed, handing Peter a glass of water. He wasn't an alcoholic but he did turn into one right before midterms and finals start. It was somehow seasonal. According to Peter, it helped him focus. "You're not supposed to drink before a big exam, y'know."

"Hemingway drinks. He writes better when he drinks."

"You're a business major. Not a writer. You don't even read literature."

"Look at you now cleaning other people's messes." Peter chuckled, closing his laptop. You sighed and wiped the counter with much vigor. The four gentlemen from earlier left a pretty big mess toasting shots before they went towards the billiards table.

"Please, this is not the kind of bar you used to go to." You responded, making a gin and tonic. "This is a smoke-free, grope-free, friendly bar. No dancing, no loud stereo music -- just your regular bar where you can relax with your friends after a long day at work."

Peter turned around and tilted his head towards the jukebox. "There's someone dancing right now beside the jukebox."

"Not that kind of dancing." A 20-something year old man was breakdancing to some old beat you've never even heard of.

"Y'know it's really ironic you're working at a bar now. Oh, how you used to hate them."

"It's the only job I can do." You shrugged. "Besides photography, of course. And again, this is not that kind of bar. Think of it like a MacLaren's Pub from that tv show. Kind of funny how it's also just below our apartment building. If only we lived in this building in college, I would've enjoyed bars more."

You once went to one party at a crowded bar where Peter had surprisingly invited you. Writhing bodies pressed up against each other. Body shots from strangers. Toilets that reeked of beer vomit and pee. An "accidental" kiss between you and Peter in the bar that lead into a steamy makeout session as soon as you got in the apartment you both shared. Up to this day, neither of you spoke of that night and perhaps that day wouldn't come -- You really hoped it didn't. Wouldn't want to open a can of worms from the past.

"You're a boring old hag." Peter snorted.

"Hmm, I'd like to disagree. I can make drinks and you can't."

"Oh, you know who can make drinks, though? My stepbrother!"

Ah, yes. His stepbrother. The infamous Bucky Barnes. Born in the upper east side of New York and sadly, out of wedlock. Orphaned at a young age and adopted by a man named Tony Stark who then married Peter's mother. A successful hotel business owner (but not really famous), and the star of Peter's countless stories. Been arrested once for streaking. Got Peter out of detention in high school. Trespassed school premises. TP'd a house during Valentine's Day. Caught naked by a newly-wed in a hotel room. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

"I know. He makes the best bloody drinks of all time." You mimicked Peter the way he would -- insulting and proud -- which he didn't like as he shot dagger-like eyes at you. His expressions changed in a snap.

"Oh, that reminds me. He's in town!"

"I thought he was in Monaco?"

"Yeah, no. He travels a lot."

"Does that mean I now get to meet this famous stepbrother of yours?" You smirked, pulling out shot glasses from one of the cabinets.

"I'm not sure he would want to meet you. You're not exactly in his league."

"You mean snobby and rich?" You laughed while fixing the shot glasses on the counter. "I'm aware."

"I mean classy." He adjusted his tie.

You snickered. "Yeah, all those stories were real classy, Parker. Top-notch."

"You know what I mean, y/n - suits, money, stuff like that. Bucky's changed." One big sip of beer. "I think."

"Ya think?" You scoffed.

"Maybe, I don't know. Haven't spoken to him in a while. He's always traveling and stuff. Hard to keep track of him."

"Sounds to me like he's on a run from the bad guys." You joked which Peter didn't find funny.

"What do you mean?"

Peter idolized Bucky. He was the sole reason why he got into business in the first place -- no, they didn't spend late nights talking in their backyard basketball court about how fulfilling business is and all that crap like brothers would do. Peter just wanted to be like Bucky. To be in the world of money, booze, and then more money. That kind of crap. "It was a joke, Parker. This Bucky sounds like he may have done some stupid stuff but I doubt he's into something illegal or what."

"Yeah, he's a good guy." But even Peter didn't sound convinced of himself. He took a big gulp of his beer.

Nick approached the counter, avoiding your eyes but a smile landed on his lips as soon as he neared you. You could hear Peter chuckling. "Hey, Nick."

Nick acknowledged him by saying a small hello and started preparing a bunch of Bloody Marys for the blonde girls by the booth. Peter watched him, finishing his beer. You gave him a look before walking away to serve some drinks -- which he just mocked in return. With a tray of beer in your right hand, you approached the four gentlemen from before at the billiards table and gave them their drinks. Seeing a couple of girls slide out of one of the booths, you grabbed a washcloth and a bottle spray on the cleaning station and headed to clean the girls' mess. The table reeked of Gin and tonic, Margaritas, Grasshopper, a couple of beers and Long Island Iced Tea. Well, that's a weirdly wild group of friends.

While cleaning up the booth, you glanced up at the printed photographs on the walls which were yours. Black and white portraits of strangers. Flashes of red and blue lights on the streets. Giant buildings. Random people on Central Park and New York streets. Peter drinking beer at the booth with his co-workers. And the owner of the bar who was always cooped up inside his small office. Photos that didn't sell in your exhibit always went to the bar, in hopes that someone might find them somewhat good -- good enough to take home. But that wasn't the case. To them, the photos were just mere decorations at the bar; they just wanted to have a good time and couldn't be bothered to even take one shy glance at the bartender's photos. You wanted to think they just had zero taste when it comes to photography to make yourself feel better but you were wrong. It just made you feel worse.

Just when you were about to turn around, Peter slid into the booth. You almost dropped the things you were holding. "Jesus, Parker."

He looked up at the photos. "Told ya your photos won't sell here."

"That's not what I was thinking." Lie. You walked towards the bar counter with Peter on your tail. He sat once more on the high stool and immensely watched as you placed some glasses on the counter.

"Come work for our company. We could really use your skills for our products." He leaned in, trying to get your attention. It wasn't the first time he tried to convince you to go work for his company.

"For the nth time, I'm no corporate slave."

"You're working at a bar. You make drinks and serve people. Some of these fuckers have corporate jobs as well - like me! If you think about it," he crossed his arms, placing them on top of the counter, "it's kind of like serving these corporations you hate."

With a frown, you asked, "What kind of logic is that?"

"A businessman's logic."

"If that's the case, the corporate world is dead." You smirked, washing the glasses. Peter was no businessman. He was just a part of a sales team, making marketing pitch presentations every week or so. Honestly, you couldn't keep up with his presentations. "I'd be happy to join then."

"Come on, Aria. You can't be juggling two jobs for the rest of your life. You can get one big job at our company and you'll get paid big time. Plus," he leaned in further, almost getting up from the stool, "we'll be working together. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"I'm honestly getting tired of you." You chuckled, sprinkling some water on Peter's face. "And my answer is still no. I don't want to work for your company. I like freelancing and bartending." That wasn't a lie. Despite graduating from business school, you decided to pursue your passion in photography even if the pay couldn't cover your half of the rent. So, you decided to take a waitressing job at the bar just below your apartment, and then started bartending. Out of all the establishments you could've gone to, you chose this very bar because it was the most convenient option of all -- it was just below the apartment. Being a photographer and a part-time bartender weren't exactly the dream you had for yourself but you liked them; nothing gave you more pleasure than taking product photos for small businesses and making drinks for strangers who happen to stumble upon one of the best bars in the Upper West Side.

Peter sighed. "I'm never giving up on you. I'm not a quitter."

"Whatever you say, big guy." Peter had been at it for a few years.

"I hate you." Peter groaned.

"Aren't you the sweetest?"

Peter rolled his eyes and caught a quick glance at the wall clock. "Hey, your shift's almost over. Better hurry up."

"Right. Thanks, Parker." You began placing back the shot glasses on one of the cabinets then hurriedly walked into a small door on the back. You greeted your boss who was just doing some paperworks.

"Hey, Steve. I'm heading out."

"Right, right." Steve looked up from his laptop and removed his specs, placing them on the table.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you could even close the door, Steve called you.

"Yeah?"

"Nick's not gonna be here tomorrow afternoon and I'm gonna be in Long Island for some family reunion. Would you mind checking all the deliveries for tomorrow?"

"Well, what about the others?"

"Ah, they're no good." Steve sighed. "I only trust you and Nick."

You raised an eyebrow. "Nick? Really?" You wouldn't trust Nick with anything -- not even with some dumb, silly secret.

Steve shrugged. "He's a good kid. He and I get along. So, do I get a yes?"

"Yeah, sure. I got nothing going on tomorrow."

"No photography thingy?"

You pursed your lips. "Not unless you want me to take photos for your family reunion."

"No way in hell am I gonna let you meet my family."

"Aw, you said you trust me."

He chuckled and leaned back on his office chair. "Go home, y/n."

You sent him a smile before heading back to the counter to meet Peter who was mindlessly scrolling on his phone. "Let's go, Parker."

You two walked up the steps towards your apartment building, shoulders bumping from time to time. You and Peter lived on the fifth floor. You would've gotten your own place but your parents cut you off since you refused to work for the family supermarket your family owned in Hoboken, New Jersey. The last time you spoke to your parents was almost three years ago, when you threw a huge tantrum like a damn baby at your graduation party. "There's nothing for me here in New Jersey! It's as boring as these two old couples next door. (No offense). I hated business school. I want to pursue photography whether you like it or not. I'm not staying in this hellhole forever."

"You walk out that door, you're out of here forever."

And out you went with only a couple of clothes and some leftover college money. The only sliver of hope you had was Peter.

"Hey, y/n?" Peter asked as soon as you got inside the elevator. "Hypothetically, if Nick asked you out on a date, would you say yes?"

You gave him a weird look after the elevator doors closed before you. "I don't know, man. Never dip the pen in company ink, right?" You fished for your apartment key on your purse. "How are you so sure he's gonna ask me out?"

"He flat out told me that's how." He replied. "Yesterday night. So, if he does ask you..."

"Why are you so invested in my dating life?"

"You have no dating life." He retorted.

Peter was one to talk. He also didn't have one.

"You know what I mean, idiot."

He shrugged. "Just curious."

The elevator doors opened and you both headed towards your apartment unit, with Peter still yapping about Nick this and Nick that. You groaned, getting ultimately tired of hearing Nick's name and the possibility of you and him dating. "Maybe you should date him, Parker."

"You date him."

You gave him a confused look. "Shut up, Parker."

"Wait, you know what? Don't date him. I don't like him for you. He's weird and -- "

"No, I mean it. Shut. Up." You hissed, stopping on your tracks and grabbing Peter by his arm. You were right outside your apartment unit. There was a small gap between the door and the door frame. It seemed like someone broke in..

"What do we do? What do we do?" Peter half-yelled, half-whispered.

"Have the cops on speed dial. If it really is a robbery, call them. Got it?"

"What if they have guns?"

"I'll tell them to shoot you first."

"Gee, thanks for looking after me. Appreciate it."

You smirked, your hands already on the door. Slowly, you pushed it away from your body, failing to make it as quiet as possible as the door creaked against the floorboards. You gently looked around the dark living room, seeing no sign of someone inside -- until your eyes caught something moving on the couch. Your eyes went wide. You went back in the hallway where Peter was standing with his phone in his hand, ready to press the call button.

"Well?" He was waiting for an answer.

"I think someone's crashing on our couch?" Even you looked confused.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Either that or a large animal just broke into our apartment. Come on, let's go see." You whispered, trying not to wake up the uninvited guest.

"I'm not going in there!"

"Fine, I'll wake the bastard up." You groaned. "Pussy."

"Dick." He snickered but zipped his mouth shut as soon as you sent him a glare.

Without a noise, you managed to get closer, using the light from your phone as a guide. On the couch was a huge blanket sprawled across and under that was the rhythmic sound of someone breathing. Your hand lightly trembled, reaching for the blanket to unveil whoever was under it; but before you could even touch a single thread, the person jumped out of the couch, and so did your heart. You let out a scream, falling backwards and hitting your head on one of the small tables beside the couch. The unknown person stood on the couch, and awfully joined your screams. The lights suddenly turned on, with Peter standing by the door.

"Oh my god!" You yelped as soon as you realized the man in front of you was naked. No clothes, no nothing, just bare skin against the cold breeze. Your hands immediately flew to your eyes. "Who the hell are you?" Your screamed at him.

He urged you to remove your hand from your eyes, telling you he was wrapping the blanket around his waist. Thankfully, he wasn't lying.

"Bucky?" Peter breathed, approaching the scene.

"This is Bucky?" You asked in disbelief.

Bucky smiled and jumped off the couch, offering his hand. "Hi, I'm Bucky."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes story #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago

Text

once upon a flight

Draco X Reader (post war)

Summary: The Wizarding World earnestly searched for the newly discovered Heir of Gryffindor. After many failed attempts at the claim, McGonagall almost gives up hope, but sends off one final letter. Draco looking for a reason to clear his name has an ulterior motive to find you... that is until he meets you.

A/n: So, as promised, an Anastasia AU that is frankly one of my favorite things in a while. For all intents and purposes Snape isn’t dead because this is my blog and my word is law. Also, this is about 10k words... so you’re welcome.

Long ago, Hogwarts was founded by four great wizards: Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff. The Slytherin heir was found centuries later in one Tom Riddle who became the greatest Dark Wizard of all time, only to be defeated by the great Harry Potter. Yet, the story of the heirs does not end there. The unfortunate demise of Helena Ravenclaw ended the lineage of the Ravenclaw house for she had no children. The Hufflepuff heir, Cedric Diggory was killed in the war by Voldemort. Only one heir remains, and their whereabouts are unknown to all, but sought after by most. Minerva McGonagall is keen on the discovery of this witch or wizard, the last true heir of Hogwarts, and perhaps the most powerful of them all. Only in the hands of the true heir, will Godric’s mighty sword come alive with magic once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s a girl, raised muggle, in America,” Snape threw down the Daily Prophet. “This could be your chance,”

“My chance to what?” Draco huffed, running a hand through his hair before examining the paper. “Like a Slytherins could ever find this Gryffindor heir, let alone in muggle America,”

“But if you do,” Snape hinted, a smile curling on his lips. “It might clear your names,”

“Would you give that a rest?” Draco muttered, throwing the newspaper down of a very scared looking American girl. “Even if I do find this girl, why in the world would she trust me?”

“Because, she might have questions, and who is going to be there with the answers for her?” Snape raised an eyebrow.

Draco pondered the idea, then glanced at your photo in the paper in front of him. And he thought there perhaps might be a chance.

____________________________

“London?” I eyed the passport dubiously. “What long lost aunt wants me in London? And why did she show up now?” My fingers ran over the long letter explaining everything and nothing.

“Do you want to go or not?” Mrs. Greenwood asked. “Because I’ve got a lot of girl like you who’d kill for a chance at a family again.” Her snappy condescending voice wouldn’t be missed.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

I zipped my bag closed, folding the letter, and placing it in my bag with the plane ticket and passport. It was a long drive to the airport that was filled with people who all went about their business. I had never felt more lost. I read the letter again as I waited for my plane to arrive. Something proved magical about the parchment and inked letters. A style never used in a modern day. It gave me hope. Or an unsettling sense of dread.

“Excuse me,” His voice was polite and broke through the music of my headphones. It was his accent that caught me off guard. He was a brit.

“Yes?” I asked, taking out an earbud.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a Ms. McGonagall, would you? I’m supposed to be aiding her niece back to London,” I eyed him skeptically.

“Is that so?” I raised an eyebrow. “Alright pretty boy, tell me, what absolute stranger is going to trust a random brit who comes up to her claiming to know the name of someone that he could easily have read off the girl’s letter?” He seemed amused at my skepticism.

“I suppose you’re right,” The stranger didn’t seem cornered, however. His caviler didn’t waver. “What if I told this stranger that hypothetically I knew that her aunt wasn’t really her aunt but someone looking for her to be claimed as the heir to a school of magic?”

“Well, hypothetically, I’d probably laugh and call security,” I eyed the cop, whose gaze caught mine before flashing to the beautiful stranger before me.

“And if I proved to her that magic was real? Would this stranger believe me?” Danger lurked in his eyes.

I snorted. “If you can prove that magic is real, I’ll follow you anywhere buddy,”

“Careful there stranger, you’re promising something you might not want to,” He warned.

“I think I know what I can handle pretty boy,”

Without another word, he took my hand, clasping it in his. Glancing around he slowly raised his hand away from my palm, where a flower began to bud and bloom from nothing, sparking in the fluorescent lighting. I wasn’t impressed.

“Nice trick, but I’m not convinced.”

The stranger laughed. “I should have known it would take more to convince you,” He ran a hand through his silvery blond hair, looking around, before his gaze settled back on me. “What if I told you that you could do magic?”

“I’d say you’re crazy and were back to calling security,” I went to walk away, I had enough time before my flight that a quick walk wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“But you must have felt it,” His hand reached for mine. “When you were younger, and things happened around you that you couldn’t explain. A sense that you didn’t belong. That you were different. That you could see and feel and do things that others couldn’t.” His words were earnest and urgent. I paused.

“And if I did?” I didn’t face him.

“That you hear stories of magic and fairytales, and you thought maybe you belonged in them because there was no one quite like you,” My eyes met his, baffled, curious. “And you felt it just now, not on the surface of your skin, but in your hand, in your blood, a feeling in your heart that felt right. That felt powerful,”

“Okay, pretty boy, you seem to know a lot about who you think I am, so what’s your deal?’ I folded my arms, still not completely convinced but more than curious.

“I told you, I’m here to help you get to London in one piece and how to be an heir of magic.” The light in his eyes glinted as if he had won.

“Alright, let’s say hypothetically I believe you, then what?”

“I’d buy you a cup of coffee and we’d try this again?” He raised an eyebrow, nodding to a chain Starbucks that was near dead in the early hours of the morning.

I stared at the chai tea latte that was warming my hands. He didn’t say a word. Draco. The beautiful stranger who promised answers. Who looked a bit too good to be true.

“From here, I get a letter for an aunt I didn’t know that I had, and a plane ticket to London. Then I met you, claiming that you know her and that you’re here to help me. Then you tell me that my aunt really isn’t my aunt, and that magic is real and I’m the heir to some sort of magic school in London? This is a really good way to get kidnapped and never heard from again,” My skepticism grew. He could see that.

“You’re not wrong,” He leaned onto the table, closer to me. “And you wouldn’t believe me unless you knew that magic was real.”

“Every lonely girl dreams of fairytales and magic,” I countered. “Is it so far-fetched to really believe it?”

“Believing sure,” He gave an easy smile. “But you can do magic and you know it,”

“How do you know what I know?” I snapped back.

“I know you’re in denial,” He chuckled. “And easy, you’re doing it now, but no one could tell you that you were because it’s subtle and hard to pick up on,”

“In what way?” I demanded.

“Defense spell,” His smirk started the urge in me to deck him. He was so self-assured, and it drove me insane. What was worse, was that he might be right about everything.

“Sure, why not,” My tone fell flat. “Okay pretty boy, how exactly am I using a defense spell?” I leaned back in my chair, unamused.

“No one in this airport gave you any trouble. A strange man comes up to you and you show signs of distress, and yet no one helps you. You’re hiding yourself from their point of view. It’s very self-assured of you to think you can handle yourself,” His explanation made to much sense... again.

“I’m the self-assured one?” I muttered. “And sorry to burst your bubble English, but this is America and we all pretty much keep our heads down.”

“And yet the second you decided to trust me, the security guard walked the other way—away from his post I might add,” His confident smile didn’t leave.

“He... what?” Now I backtracked.

“You like to be left alone, I can admire that, but you have so much potential and you could do so much more,”

“And if I don’t want to?” I offered a bit hopeless.

“Sure, go be a faceless nobody in the sea of Americans, work a nine to five, and never see adventure or magic again in your life,” He leaned back in his chair, casual. As if what he offered was the option a rational person would choose.

“And I should trust you? To take me to London and bring me to this magic school to be an heir or whatever it is you Brits do?”

“You seem quite offset that I’m not American,” His amused smile returned.

“Force of habit,” I shrugged, giving a carefree smile that caused indignation to flicker into his eyes.

“Well, you have approximately thirty seconds to decide if you trust me before you’re called to board,” His devious smirk had me reeling to look at the gate and the flight attendant who was ruffling through papers and getting ready to signal boarding groups.

“God, I hate you,” I muttered, resigned. “Fine. Whatever. Life of adventure and magic, sure.”

We boarded and Draco took the seat akin to mine in first class without the bat an of eyelash. My anxiety began to flare again thinking of how easy it was for him to find a place next to me on a full flight to London in the early hours of the morning.

Then there was the matter of flying altogether. I had never been on a plane ride before. And I was about to be on a nine-hour flight with a supposed magician and a promise of adventure. What had I gotten myself into?

“I can hear you worrying.” Draco muttered as the plane left the runway and began to ascend.

“I’ve never flown in a plane before in my life. All things considered, I think I’m allowed to worry,” I snapped.

Draco reached into his bag and held out a small vial filled with an amber liquid.

“Here, take this,” He offered it to me.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking,” I snorted. “There is no way in hell that I’m taking that.”

“Y/n, please,” It was the first time that he had ever used my name. A name I hadn’t told him. A name he knew. A name that got my attention and reminded me of the situation that I was in.

“What is it?” I took the vail from his nimble fingers.

“Anxiety potion,” He explained calmly. “It will calm your stress levels and allow you to think clearly,”

“Magic?” I eyed him dubiously.

“A form of it. Your people call it chemistry, but we have access to more ingredients than the causal muggle,”

“Muggle?” I raised an eyebrow, still examining the contents of the small vial.

“People who can’t do magic nor live with other wizards,”

“Wizards,” I mused softly to myself.

The pilot informed the cabin that we had reached cruising altitude and my anxiety came back, overshadowing the tales of wizards and magic and the perfect stranger beside me. Draco could sense that. He let out an aggravated huff and rolled his eyes.

“Use your senses Y/n, you don’t know how to control it yet, but you have magic in your blood. It’s kept you alive and ahead this long. What are they telling you? Not your fears and anxiety, but your heart and head.” His voice was low and urgent, and I had to concentrate to catch all of his words.

“This isn’t another one of your—”

“Y/n,” He pressed, not having it with my second thoughts and doubts. “Concentrate.”

Deciding to trust him, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The air around me was artificial and frigid. It made my senses stand keen on edge. It was unnatural to me. I could feel the people as they settled down for the long flight. The pilot shifting and the attendants flitting about. They were all overly ordinary. Like most people I had been surrounded with my entire life.

Then there was Draco beside me. I could feel his warmth, his presence... his aura. Unlike anything I had encountered before. A halo of power and... magic that embraced and clung to the edges of him. It matched the silvery blue of his eyes trailing off into green. I could trust him. But there was a darkness underneath that I couldn’t trust. The one that I feared.

Then the vial clasped between my fingers. It held no ill will toward me as I thought of it. It promised to help in words that didn’t belong to Draco beside me. Something all of it’s own. All of my own.

Another deep breath out.

“Okay,”

“What did you gather?” He didn’t taunt me, but rather it was genuine curiosity that colored his tone.

“You’re... different. From the rest of the people on this plane. You... there’s like... an aura? A feeling but with color? I don’t know...” My eyebrows furrowed. “It told me I can trust you... but there’s something darker underneath... and I’m not sure... I’m not sure I trust that darkness.”

He stared at me, baffled. Not that I had said what I said, but instead what I had said.

“The... the darkness.” He muttered. “I thought...”

“That you could hide it?” I raised an eyebrow, only half teasing. We all had darkness. I wouldn’t hold his against him.

“That there would be more... the things I’ve done,” He was a burning man before me. I looked down to the vial in my hands. I toyed with it.

“Here’s to new beginnings?” I offered a bit hopeless, breaking the wax seal and downing the contents like a parched man in a desert who comes upon an oasis.

And I understood what he meant. A pack of stress and the ability to think clearly. All of the fogginess that the anxiety induced was gone. I looked at the world around me with new eyes.

“Woah,” I whispered, looking at Draco clearly for the first time.

A smile played at his lips.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

I nodded and looked out at the grey and blue beneath the plane. Closing the shade, I turned to Draco as much as the first-class seat would allow.

“So magic?”

“Where do you want me to start?” He was expecting my question.

“The beginning is a good place,”

“We’d be here forever,” Draco chuckled. “I’ll start at the beginning of what would be your story though”

I marveled at his words. Two worlds divided but always existing beside each other. Sometimes they would intertwine sometimes they would be forgotten. He spoke of being raised in such a negative perspective of muggles and the life I led, putting me on edge until he gave a placid smile and an apology. His tale turned darker with the war that was fought and a hope that was lost and found again.

“Potter,” Draco’s tone snarled around the name.

“Harry Potter,” I mused. “So why can’t he be the heir of this Gryffindor whoever?”

“Like that would help his ego any,” Draco muttered flatly. “And he can’t because he’s a half blood. The heirs are pure blood wizards, not a drop of Muggle blood in them,”

“Okay...” my brows knit together. “But how does that explain me? They told me my mother was... and my father walked out on her. She died giving birth to me,”

“Back in the early days of the first war, I can only assume your parents were against the Dark Lord which gave them their death sentence. Especially if he knew you were the heir of Gryffindor,”

“But I’m not dead,” I pointed out.

“Seems that way,” Draco gave me an amused smirk. “They must not have known you existed. And seeing as you were raised in America, I came see why they—no one knew. Not until recently anyway.”

“But how did they find me? How did you find me? How did this letter even find me?”

“Would you accept magic as an answer to those three questions?” Draco tried.

“Sure, but I’m still creeped out,” I folded my arms. “Heir to a school of Magic...” I pondered the words aloud for the first time. “What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Whatever you want,” Draco shrugged.

Our conversation pulled after that into almost nothing. I closed my eyes once more and began to feel the world around me through my newfound sixth sense. It became overwhelming after a few moments but when homing in on Draco’s presence quelled some of that overstimulation. His aura was calming, as if it were a foreign lullaby to my heart. A lullaby that lulled me to sleep before long.

But a darkness lingered still in my dreams. It was alien. Not what I had seen in Draco and not what I knew was within me. Something else. An evil presence that yearned to be free. To take control. To have power. It wanted me. It was suffocating. It dragged me down. Down. Down. Draco felt further away. The plane, it’s passengers, nothing but specks. The darkness dragged me forward. Red eyes stared me down and a smile full of knifes taunted me.

I struggled back, away from the evilness, trying to break free of the darkness but I was trapped. By back was against a wall. There was no escape.

A flicker of silver caught my attention. Bright and beautiful. A ray of hope. My eyes dared to leave the shadow figure to follow that ray. When I saw it again it because more clear. The wisps of a dragon made of pure light. It did not come for me, rather it showed me the way out.

There was a way out.

I gasped, my eyes fluttering open to see the glow of fluorescent lighting and worried grey eyes.

“What—that—who—” I sputtered, my heart racing.

“Are you okay?” His genuine concern called to me. I nodded, tears stinging my eyes.

“What was that Draco?”

“I don’t know,” From his tone I knew that he did not like not knowing. “But you’re safe now,” The comfort of his arms around me made me believe his words more than I thought I would. “We’ll land in a couple hours, just try to relax,” His tone was soft, something new.

The grey dim of London didn’t impress me. I squinted up at the misting rain. Draco took my hand and led me through the maze of the airport, gathering our bags and ushering me toward an empty alley way.

“Draco,” I warned, not enjoying the situation.

“Just hold tight to me and don’t touch the edges,” He instructed. “Don’t let go of your bag either,”

“What? Why?” I broke away from him, to his annoyance.

“Can’t you just do what you’re told? No questions asked?” He seemed to be asking the sky more than he was asking me. I gave him a flat look. “It’s magic. It’s called apperating. It’s going to feel weird, but you should be fine.” He offered his hand to me again.

“Should be?”

“We don’t have time for this Y/n,” He stressed.

“Like hell we do,” I snapped.

“Fine, if you’re not fine then you have total permission to hit me, that make you feel better?” He demanded, insisting that I take his hand.

“No,” I mumbled, placing my hand in his.

That feeling of power was back when he took out a wand—his wand—and twirling it, before I could make fun of him, we were whisked away, and I had to remember to hold on. The distorted reality around me was so enticing to touch, as if it were an impressionist painting that replaced with the dingy grey around me. Then it stopped.

“Where are we?” The scenery changed, still a duller grey, but now in front of a large mansion that I had only seen in movies.

“Malfoy Manor,” Draco said curtly. “Come along,”

Taking a second to recover from the beauty that was all around me, I grabbed my bag and followed him inside where I gasped again. The house looked like something of those fairytales I had always dreamed about.

“Are you coming?” Draco asked promptly.

“I... do you live here!?” I scrambled after him up the stairs with my bag.

“Yes,” He didn’t understand my amazement. “Are you alright?”

“I’ve never been something this... beautiful before,” I turned back to look over the banister at the grand foyer. “You just... live here?”

“Yes,” Now there was a smile playing at his lips. “Come on, we’ve still got much to do,”

“There’s more!?” I followed him up the stairs.

“You haven’t used magic in your entire life, and you think I’m gonna let you waltz in there scared and unprepared?” Draco snorted opening up a random door. “This will be your room. We have a couple days—it won’t be enough time but perhaps I can make you somewhat believable...”

“No one said anything about having to prove I was the heir!” I argued, again taken back by the lavish room but ultimately was overridden by my anger and fear. “Show up, sure! Maybe take a DNA test! But act like some wizard protégée!?”

“Witch,” He mended softly. “And we’ve got this under control,”

“We?” I did not have this under control.

“Snape and I. He will be helping me help you. There’s a lot you need to learn. But for now, rest. Dinner is in an hour,” Closing the door he left me to my thoughts.

Sitting on the bed I looked around the room. Anxiety began to creep in my chest again, but not for the reason it had... this morning. Could it still be the same day? Could I have only met Draco a dozen or so hours ago? My thoughts were reeling.

“A witch, an heir,” I scoffed. “Magic,” it was more of a whisper.

I lifted my hand and remembering the power and golden feeling that had come when Draco created a flower in my palm, I surged for the magic within me. To my surprise, golden flames licked at my fingertips, shimmering in the evening light. A giddy laugh left my lips as I intensified the flame to consume my entire hand.

“He said you were a quick learner,” A stern and nasally voice drew me from my stupor.

My hand dropped and my flame fizzled out as I stood.

“I—uh,”

“I am Severus Snape. I am here to help you. It is in your best interest to do exactly as I say without any questions. Understood?”

“Uh... okay?”

“Dinner will be downstairs soon. Draco would like you to join us. There are clothes in the wardrobe. Change into something more suitable and come down.” His instructions left no room for argument, but my stubbornness flared, yet he left before I could snark a reply.

Mourning my sweater jeans and converse I headed to the elaborate wardrobe and opened the great oak doors to reveal an array of gowns, cloaks, and dresses. Together they were worth more than any amount of money I had come into contact with. And of much higher taste than I’d dare to ever wear.

Riffling through them there was a semi bearable dress that looked as if it were from the 1950s and held a navy-blue color. It would have to do, and it could have been worse. I eyed a heavy shimmering gown with pearls and lace, shuddering at the thought.

———————————————

Draco’s day could have been a lot worse than it ended up being. After finally giving in at Snape’s insistence that he fly back to England and not apparate he thought his day was a lost cause. But then he met you and Merlin were you a handful.

He could easily see the magic you were doing and the power you were giving off. It took a lot of his willpower to not submit and leave you alone, as your defense ordered. But as soon as your eyes met his and a smile played at your lips, he didn’t have to fight any longer. You allowed him to stay close to you, assured that he meant you no harm. No one had trusted him like that in years.

For the heir of Hogwarts, you were quite remarkable. An easy sorting into Gryffindor with or without the hat. He had to play his cards right however, to maneuver you into a world of magic from the mundane of America. But he accomplished the feat, easier than he would have thought done. Perhaps you were more than ready to leave your Muggle world and join his magic one. And not like he could blame you. If he never had to ride in a plane again, he’d do anything.

But just as he thought you were safe, your eyes closed in a peaceful slumber, something dark came back to hurt you. Red eyes that he knew well. How... how he didn’t know. But he could feel the cold evil presence seep into your skin and consume your aura. It terrified him. Draco knew you were defenseless. No amount of unintentional magic could keep the Dark Lord at bay, dead or alive.

So, he did something he never had before in a desperate attempt to protect you and him from that evil. He called his Patronus, touching his wand to your temple, willing it to go and pull you out.

Your eyes flashing open, fear written on your usual confident features, your hands digging into his arms, Draco’s heart churned in his chest. You looked to him for safety. Him—who you’d met barely five hours prior when you were sure he was there to kidnap you. And now you held to him like a prayer. He didn’t expect that. There was nothing else he could do but hold you close and assure you that it was going to be okay.

If you two could ever get off this godforsaken plane.

With touchdown, Draco wasted no time in dragging you by the hand through the throng of the Muggle airport before he lost his temper. In a secluded alley he was finally ready to apparate home. Of course, you had thoughts of your own and he really wasn’t about to fight with you on this. He just wanted to go home. So, he gave in. Just this once.

And Merlin he was thankful that he did. He had never been so happy to see the Manor. You had never seen a Manor before. He almost laughed at the childlike wonder on your face. But instead, he was enamored by it, the same way you were enamored by a house that had lost its shine to him over the years. Draco longed to see the mansion through your eyes even for a moment.

“Your mother wrote,” Snape offered a letter. “She’ll be here within a day,” Draco sighed and skimmed the letter. “Do you still think this is a good idea?” “It’s the best one we’ve got,”

Before Draco could argue, the clearing of your throat softly drew his attention. You had changed into one of his mother’s old dresses that he hadn’t seen in years and you looked quite sheepish about it. Draco stood, out of respect or perhaps startlement. Snape gave him a look which he promptly ignored, going over to you.

“I... I hope it’s alright,” You fiddled with the skirt. “He... he said I could—that I should...”

“You look wonderful,” Draco encouraged softly. “Come, dinner is ready.”

He took your hand and led you through the large house, tuning out Snape’s instruction to you about how to hold yourself as you walked. Draco smiled at the annoyance in your eyes.

Dinner was... more or less a disaster. Your stubbornness met Snape’s instruction, getting you both nowhere.

“If you want to become the Heir of Hogwarts you will listen to me,” Snape almost snarled.

“I don’t want to become the heir!” You stood abruptly, throwing your cloth napkin onto the table. “I just want to know who I am!” Storming out of the dining room, Draco watched you, before sharing a look with Snape.

“She’s hopeless,” Snape muttered.

“You’re dealing with an American Gryffindor; did you think she was just going to sit still and look pretty?” Draco chuckled, standing.

It took him a while to find you. Draco could only fathom that you had gotten lost in the house yourself and winded up on a balcony somewhere on the third floor. You had a blanket draped around your shoulders as you stared up at the stars. The night had cleared, giving clarity to its pathfinders.

“I know what you’re going to say,” You spoke softly, sensing him nearby. “I... I can’t do this Draco. I’m not some lady, some long lost princess in some sort of fairytale. Magic or not...” You took a sharp breath in. “Fairytales are just stories. I’m still a girl with no parents, no family, no past... and no future.”

Draco studied you, wondering how you had changed so much from the confident self-assured girl he’d met this morning. He also had little clue what to say to cheer you up. So, he did what normally comforted him, he spoke fondly of his mother.

“My mother wore that dress,” He began softly, leaning against the door frame. “When I was young, before Hogwarts. Father would always be away on business. She’d take me to the garden, and we’d have a picnic. I remember her in that dress on those warm summer days,” Draco let his eyes slipped closed, lost in the memory. “She used to tell me that I’d never be alone. That as long as I could do magic, I’d always have a place to belong. That there would always be someone out there like me.” He paused. “Hogwarts was my home for quite some time. Slytherins were my family.”

“Who am I to come and claim it as mine then?” The words barely left your lips.

“You’ve been alone and away from your family for so long now. Don’t you think you deserve to go home? To a place that you belong?” You turned to face him, hope flickering in your eyes.

“But I—” You ran a hand through your hair nervously. “I’m never going to be good enough. Dinner was a disaster and I’m never going to please someone like Snape, let alone any other wizard!”

Draco couldn’t do anything but laugh. “No one can please Snape, darling. Don’t take that personally.” He sobered a bit. “You’ve never going to please everyone. Believe me I know. But... it’s more about becoming someone you’re proud of,”

“I don’t know who that is,” You turned back to the stars.

“If you run away, you’ll never know,” Draco mused, standing next to you, leaning on the railing. “But... if you truly can’t stand it in the next three days... I’ll take you back myself,”

You looked over to him, a swirl of emotions unidentifiable on your face. Before he could start to decipher even one of them, your gaze turned downward. He let out a soft sigh.

“If it’s any consolation,” Draco began. “I believe in you. I think you belong,” He turned to leave.

“Draco, wait,” You called out, “Thank you... I know... I know I’m a handful,”

A smile played at his lips. “That’s one way to describe you,”

You rolled your eyes, but you still didn’t smile and that worried him more than he cared to admit.

“I’ll take you back to your room,” He offered.

“I’m quite capable—” You cut yourself off and sighed. “Thanks, again,”

Staring at your closed door, Draco found himself wanting you back before him, so that he could continue to talk to you. He enjoyed it more than he thought. You didn’t fawn over him, nor did you fear him. Instead, you treated him as an equal. As a person.

“Oh, she looks like a kicked puppy!” His mother fawned the next morning. “Draco Lucius Malfoy I’ve taught you better!”

“It wasn’t me!” Draco argued back. “It was Snape!”

“Don’t you talk back to me young man!” She scolded. “Poor thing,” She turned to you, tucking a strand of hair out of your face. “There, there, I apologize for my son’s behavior,”

There was a look of bewilderment on your face at your gaze met his. He didn’t know what to do but shrug and shake his head.

“It... it really was Snape, Mrs. Malfoy,” you stammered out. “Draco’s been...” He met your eyes again and the words you were about to say died on your lips. Not this his mother noticed.

“Oh, don’t you worry about him!” She consoled, standing. “Severus Snape what have I told you about manners!” His mother shouted. Draco was grateful he was no longer the one being shouted at as his mother left to go and reprimand Snape some more.

“Your mother is...” you started a smile finding your lips. It was the first time you smiled since dinner last night.

“I should have warned you a bit more, that was my mistake,”

“No, she’s lovely,” You insisted.

“You don’t have to lie on my behalf,” Draco mused, earning a laugh from you.

“She really is wonderful,” Your laugh faded to a smile.

“You say that now, but if you thought Snape was a lot,” Draco laughed at the dread in your eyes.

His mother insisted they go to Paris to shop for you. A way to take your mind off yesterday, as well as find you the basics of wizardry. Which started with a wand.

“This is stupid,” You muttered as the shop keeper flitted about the hundreds of wand boxes, tittering in French to his mother.

“You need a wand,” Draco whispered back. “Every wand is unique, so there’s one for you,”

It took a few tries, and a few shattered light fixtures—and repairing spells—before you had a loyal wand in hand. Draco made sure that you could use the wand comfortably and surprised him by calling a lighting charm without the incantation... or him telling you to. He caught his mother’s eye who was clearly impressed with you. A new set of robes, what seemed like a new wardrobe entirely and a few books later, you seemed satisfied.

“I really can’t ask anything more of you,” You argued. “This is all more than enough,”

“Nonsense, darling,” His mother laughed. “Think nothing of it. Every great witch needs the tools to help her be successful,”

You blushed, looking down. “I mean it,” You tried again. “Even a trip to Paris would have been more than enough,”

“You’ve never been to Paris!?” His mother was aghast. You had really done it now. “Draco! Why didn’t you tell me the poor girl has never been to our city?” She turned to you. “You really must forgive his rudeness, I blame his father,”

“He—I—” You stammered.

“But I won’t have you here and not show you the wonders of the greatest city in the world. Come! Come!” She ushered you off and Draco had no choice but to trail behind and make sure you didn’t get into too much trouble.

After what seemed like days—though it was only hours filled with shows, attractions, museums, antique shops and more—his mother finally found a resting place, and by the look on your face and your slumped shoulders, you needed it. It was a rooftop restaurant that overlooked the city scape of Paris, off to the Eiffel Tower that lit up the night sky. You had that look of wonder and enchantment in your eyes again as you took in the city scape. Again. Draco wished he could see it through your eyes... for the first time all over again.

“She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” His mother whispered in his ear, far from your earshot. “I’m surprised at you Draco. I’ve never seen you this way around another girl before,”

“She not just another girl mother,” Draco retorted, trying not to blush. “She’s the heir of Hogwarts. The Gryffindor crown princess.” He sighed softly. “She doesn’t have time for...”

“A handsome young man who’s been on his own for too long?” His mother mused.

“A Slytherin,” He finished. “A Death Eater,”

“You’re no more a Death Eater than she is a muggle,” Narcissa said sternly. “I see the way she looks at you Draco,”

“Enough, mother,” Draco shook his head, pursing his lips. “Enough,”

“Fine, fine,” His mother scoffed. “Y/n, darling!” She called.

This dinner was a bit more successful. You were animated with conversation and excitement from the day. There was a way that you spoke about his city that had his heart. Dinner lulled to wine and dessert as couples began to take the dance floor, gliding along to the live band.

“Do you dance darling?” His mother asked, noticing your interested.

“Uh, no, not really,” You stammered, looking sheepish as you blushed.

“Oh, that won’t do! Draco, go on, teach her!” Narcissa gave him a pointed look.

“No really it’s okay!” You refuted before he could.

“Nonsense, every girl must know how to dance, magic or no,” You could both sense that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

So, he ended up with you in his arms on the dance floor as he tried to lead you through a simple waltz.

“You have to trust me,” He instructed, as your eyes met his. “I’m not going to let you fall,” His tone softened.

Your eyes didn’t leave his as you began to find your rhythm in the dance, letting him lead you through it all. Soon you were laughing with joy as he twirled you around the dance floor. He heart skipped a beat or two. The music ended before he wanted it to and a round of applause went up.

And Draco had to let you go.

______________________________

I laid in bed that night, staring at the stars I had created with a simple spell. With the use of my wand, magic was... easy. If I thought and felt what I wanted, it occurred. Though it seemed like a natural process to me, Draco, and Narcissa—and even Snape—were impressed.

Staring regardless, I replayed the night over and over. Dancing with Draco... in Paris... on a rooftop like some sort of stupid fairytale. Whose ending didn’t belong to me. It was the one question I didn’t ask through Narcissa’s lessons. What happened to Draco and I after I had claimed my ‘throne’?

It left me sleepless.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered to him the next day, in front of the grand gates of Hogwarts.

My anxiety was through the roof. Clad in new formal robes, and hair and makeup perfected courtesy of Narcissa, all I had to do was walk in.

“We can still turn back,” Draco gave.

“I can’t do that either,” I muttered, causing him to laugh.

“I believe in you, Y/n,” His earnest words caught my attention and out gazes lingered a bit too long, leaving us both blushing.

“Just... don’t leave me,”

“I remember you telling me that if I could prove magic to you, you’d follow me anywhere. I don’t think I have to worry about you ever leaving me,” He joked softly as we walked into the castle grounds.

“I suppose not,” I smiled at the ground.

“Y/n,” Draco paused, the mood shifting to something more serious and downcast. “You’re... you’re gonna hear somethings about me and... they’re not going to be good,” I pondered his words for a moment.

“You flew halfway around the world to find me, and you helped me get back on my feet, that’s good enough for me,” I smiled softly.

Draco pursed his lips and took a deep breath, still looking despondent about the situation.

“Draco,” I called softly. His grey eyes met mine. “I’d never have followed you onto that plane if I didn’t trust you,”

Deciding that he didn’t have an argument to that that he deemed should be voiced, he led me deeper into the grand castle and it took everything in me not to stop and stare at just about everything.

“You went to school here?” I squeaked. A smile parted his lips.

“Yes... you should have too,” He seemed to realize the injustice.

“We can’t change that now,” I comforted.

Magnificent doors parted the two of us from the entire school and quite a few wizard officials according to Draco. I stared at the intricate detailed work of the doors. If I wasn’t so nervous, I could have spent the entire day staring at these doors alone.

But there was something to be done.

The doors opened and the entire hall fell into a pin drop silence. I grabbed Draco’s hand without thinking for the comfort and support. He squeezed mine reassuringly as we began out steps forward to the front, where older, authoritative looking wizards stood.

“Death Eater,” A student hissed.

“Traitor,”

“Scum,”

“You don’t belong here,”

“Slytherin,”

My eyes glanced up to Draco, who had a mask of no emotion, but I could see the stress in the clenching of his jaw and tightening of his eyes. It was subtle but it was still there. This time I gave his hand a squeeze of reassurance and glared down the crowd, who immediately went quiet. There was not a menacing whisper to be heard.

At the front of the Great Hall there were three wizards who stood out among the rest. They were younger, but still assured of themselves as they stepped forward towards us. A boy with fiery red hair holding hands with a girl who had a glare that I was proud of and beside them a boy with a mess of black hair and piercing green eyes.

“Potter,” Draco’s eyes narrowed as he stood a bit taller.

“Malfoy,” There was the same distain in the supposed savior of the wizarding world’s tone.

I snorted, drawing both of their attention.

“What are you? Five?” I crossed my arms. “Y/n, nice to meet you,” I held my hand out for Harry to shake.

“I still can’t leave you two alone for five minutes,” A new voice sighed, stepping forward. “I hope they haven’t caused you too much trouble, child. I’m Professor McGonagall, headmaster of Hogwarts,”

“Y/n,” I gave again. “Supposed heiress to Gryffindor,”

“Yes,” She smiled. “I can see it in your eyes,”

Harry scoffed, sulking mildly. I looked over to him, then to Draco, confused and amused.

“I must apologize for the deceit in my letter.” McGonagall continued paying no mind to the interaction between Harry and me. “I feared that it was the only way to get you to come,” Her kind blue eyes held mine.

“I understand,” My smile was light. “In fact, if it wasn’t for Draco, I’m not sure I would have found my way here,”

“He used you!” Harry argued. “He wanted to clear his name so of course he helped you! You think he’d be a decent person if there wasn’t something in it for him!”

“That’s enough of that Mr. Potter!” McGonagall scolded. “Mr. Malfoy aided the heir of your house here from America unprovoked and I will not have you accuse him of such things,”

“If she trusted Malfoy there’s no way that she could ever be a Gryffindor. She doesn’t belong here,” Harry’s words were as cold as ice.

The malice and hatred in his voice and eyes was a fatal blow to my heart and confidence. Harry was right. I didn’t belong here. I looked around to the lavish hall and all of the students and wizard officials who had years of training and practice and grew up knowing who they were... this wasn’t where I belonged.

“How dare you,” Draco snarled, taking a step forward to shield me from Harry’s further words, but they had already hit their mark.

Their bickering silenced, but the tensions were high. Not that I noticed, I was too wrapped up in my negative thoughts.

“Come child,” McGonagall beckoned.

“Give me a minute,” I requested softly.

“We really need—”

“I said in a minute!” My raised voice shocked Draco and McGonagall. There was almost fear in their eyes. Harry still held the same hatred for me in his stare, now smug as if I proved his point.

It was enough to cause me to run.

Never being in a castle before in my life let alone a magic one, I was lost before I took my third turn. Tears streaming down my face, I never felt more alone. I found myself in a small courtyard with a lone old oak tree.

As I did when I was younger, I began to climb high into the branches, looking for an escape from the world below me. But there weren’t branches high enough this time. Resting on a high branch I leaned against the trunk, I let myself cry. The passage of time was hard to tell as the sun sank and the stars came out to play. It might have been an hour or two. I didn’t know and I was too miserable to care.

I didn’t belong here, and I wasn’t wanted here. Moments before I was only thinking that I didn’t care what they thought about Draco. I never imagined that there would be doubt and uncertainty about me.

I heard footsteps coming into the courtyard.

“Go away Draco,” I warned, pausing when I saw that it wasn’t Draco, but instead McGonagall. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“I know who you thought I was,” She peered up at me through the branches. “Merlin’s sake what are you doing in a tree?” I heard the sternness in her voice, but I couldn’t help but here the amusement underneath.

“Hiding,” I offered sheepishly.

“Well come down from there,” She ordered.

I made my way down with ease. Dropping to the ground from a higher branch than I could have, I knew that I startled the headmaster. I gave a polite hesitant smile.

“What do they teach you in America,” McGonagall pursed her lips, an undeniable hint of mischief in her eye.

“I’m... really sorry professor,” I sighed. “I know I’m not what anyone thought. And I know I don’t belong here. I’m sorry I ever...”

“Never mind all that,” She cut me off. “Who are you, child?”

“I... I was hoping that you could tell me,” I glanced down, fidgeting, and straightening my robe.

“My dear, I’m old, and I’m tired of being conned and tricked.” She began.

“I don’t want to trick anyone,” I said earnestly.

“And I’m sure owning this castle means nothing to you either?” A silence passed between us.

“I just want to know who I am,” I finally spoke. “Whether or not I belong to a family, if I’m someone like you,” I sat on the stone bench that was to the side. “Draco said that Hogwarts was like home to him... a family,” Tears stung my eyes. “I never had a home, a family...”

McGonagall sat beside me, placing her hand over mine.

“Heir or not, you will always have a home here at Hogwarts. It is a safe haven to all witches and wizards who wish to remain,” She assured me. “And I am the one that must apologize. Mr. Potter is very hotheaded, a negative attribute to Gryffindors I’m afraid,” A smile played at her lips. “But... if Draco followed you to America and brought you here, I have no doubt that you are the heir.” I smiled down at my hands. “I see the way he looks at you,”

“I’ve never met anyone like him before,” I confessed.

“Then you are very special,” She stood. “Now come, you have a title to claim and a sword that belongs to you,”

“I get a sword?” My excitement grew as I followed her. McGonagall merely laughed and led me back through the castle.

Draco, who was anxiously pacing outside of the Great Hall, caught sight of us. He rushed over to me, looking me over before pulling me into a hug, before remembering himself.

“I’m so sorry,” He insisted. “This is my fault. Harry and I never got along, and as soon as I walked in there with you, I pinned you as a rival to him,” He cupped my face softly. “I’m so sorry,” He repeated.

Nodding, I gave him a smile.

“You destiny awaits inside my dear,” McGonagall motioned toward the entrance to the hall.

The second time I walked down the aisle of students, I no longer had the confidence I had before. Except, Draco’s hand in mine gave me the courage to keep going. Except this time, Harry’s malice was not the force holding me back.

As Draco and I were halfway across the room, a great darkness flooded the hall. Disquieted whispers of fear were exchanged among the students and official wizards.

“No other heir will take the throne,” A cruel voice hissed, that I had only heard once before, in a dream. I grabbed Draco’s hand. “No heir but Slytherin,”

I looked to Draco, trying to find what to do next in his eyes. He was just as uncertain as I was. Then something sparked in his eyes.

“The sword Y/n!” Draco urged. “Take the sword and claim your throne!”

“But how is that—”

“Just go!” He ordered drawing his wand and leaving little room for argument.

The darkness hung heavier in the room. Shedding my stuffy robes, I was free to run in nothing more than jeans and a sweater to the podium where the sword lay.

“Don’t touch that sword!” The voice hissed. “Or your lover here dies!”

I turned to see Draco almost entirely consumed by a thick black smoke, struggling for air.

“Don’t hurt him!” I screeched, pausing on my ascent toward the sword.

Hundreds of wizards and witches watched us with bated breath, warned by McGonagall to stay back. I could see the fear and fury in their gazes.

“Don’t hurt him,” I begged, taking a step away from the podium.

“Y/n, don’t—don’t worry about me,” Draco gasped out.

“You’ll die,” I argued weakly. “You can’t leave me! You promised!”

“I know,” He choked out. “Just trust me. It’s magic,” The sparkle of mischief in his eyes gave me the courage I needed to ignore the threatening evil voice and walked up to the sword for the third time since I arrived.

“No past... no parents...no home...” I muttered, looking at the sword. “But you won’t take my future!”

I gripped the sword handle and held it high above my head, watching as the Great Hall was bathed in golden light. Every person in the room stared at me, before bowing. I didn’t care. My eyes held onto one person.

The dark cloud has nowhere to run, it was vaporized. Draco fell to the ground gasping for air. I dropped the sword to the ground, hearing it clatter somewhere behind me as I rushed to Draco’s side.

“My god, Draco!” I worried over him, holding him close. “Don’t you ever do that again!” He coughed out a laugh and his arms weakly embraced me.

“Y/n, sweetheart, I don’t think now is the right time. You can yell at me later,” He nodded to the faces in awe that stared at me.

I scrambled to my feet, helping Draco up.

“All hail the Gryffindor Heiress and the Slytherin Prince!” McGonagall proclaimed with a clear voice. A loud cheer went up in the Hall that had me blushing and nearly clinging to Draco.

McGonagall came over to me, offering me the sword that laid in her outstretched hands. “I do believe this belongs to you,” She smiled.

I took the sword, and though the light wasn’t as great as it had been moments before, there was a golden shine to the silver metal. I held it up, examining it. A word burned into the metal, in a golden script.

Virtus

I smiled at the word. Glancing up at Draco, and the adoration in his grey eyes, the sword was soon forgotten from my attention.

“Hi,” I whispered.

“Hello,” He smiled.

“So... I’m the Heir,” I offered, nervous for a new reason.

“I see that,”

“Draco?”

“Yes?”

“I... I, uh,”

“I know.” Draco smiled, “I fancy you too,”

I laughed despite myself at his British vernacular. Of which I had to quickly explain because of the hurt look on his face. Rolling his eyes, he pulled me close, causing me to look up at him. I met curious warm grey eyes that held the secrets of a world. I smiled.

Draco leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, cradling my face with the utmost care as he kissed me. Another cheer went up causing me to laugh and forcing me away from his kiss.

“I love you,” He mended, whispering for just us to hear.

“I love you too,”

Then he pressed his lips to mine once more not caring if the world was burning or celebrating around us.

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