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luvingtsumu · 10 months ago

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𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𖥔 ࣪˖ ( MIYA ATSUMU X FEM!READER )

you hated atsumu because he was a heartthrob that played with girls feelings. he hated you back because you were the only girl in the club that wasn’t at his feet; however, after you two star as the main character’s in a play, everything change about the way he saw you.

★ genre: fluff | content: theater club!au, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, mention of alcohol, drugs and cigarettes.

★ author’s note: sorry for the mistakes, english is not my first language.

Atsumu was sitting on one of the couches they had backstage, scrolling through his phone without paying attention to the world around him, until he noticed a new presence in the room.

He raised his head and his eyes met yours, and it was like the world stopped.

He quickly looked away, his cheeks getting red as he put his hand over his face; he felt his heart trying to jump out of his chest.

He had to take a double look at you. Your hair now formed into beautiful waves, your makeup that highlighted your beautiful eyes, and the dress…God, the princess dress.

He didn’t knew if he had been blind this whole time or if this moment was an eye opener, but you were so…

“Pretty…” he muttered to himself, his cheeks getting even more red.

You turned in his direction, looking at him and noticing he was looking at you already.

“What’s with you? You’re looking at me weirdly.” you glared at him.

Atsumu woke up from his dreams and realized that he had just been staring at you for an awful long time.

He scoffed “What? I wasn’t, y-yer hallucinatin’..”

“Do I have something on my face or what?”

“I-I…” he gulped, taking a second to wander his eyes up and down your body “No, it’s jus’— yer u-uglier with that dress, that’s all!” he said, defensively.

You frowned “Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“‘m jus’ sayin’ the truth!” he frowned too.

He had to defend himself, he couldn’t let you know he thought you looked drop dead gorgeous— he had to be mean, he had to…

He had to?

“Well, you don’t look like a charming prince either!” you crossed your arms.

“Excuse me?” he gasped “And do ya think ‘m gonna believe ya? Yer opinion is nothin’ against the 100 girls out there that are waitin’ for me to get on stage.”

“Well, it seems like you’re not the only blind one here.”

“What do ya know?” he got up from the couch, ready to start their thousandth fight.

Kita, that was being the director this time, got there in time and grabbed Atsumu’s arm.

“Don’t get in another fight when we’re about to start. Do you want this play to be ruined after you worked so hard on it?” he said in that tone that gave Atsumu chills.

“N-no.” Atsumu looked down.

“Go get ready with everyone else.” he let go of his arm.

Atsumu did as Kita told him, not before glaring at you.

He got to the boy’s dressing room and got inside, going directly to look at himself in the mirror of one of the dressing tables.

He took a deep breath as he thought about your words.

He knew that he looked good, he had been confident of that, but now that you told him that he didn’t looked like a ‘charming prince’ he had the need to fix himself. He needed to look good, he needed you to look at him and say ‘He’s so handsome’.

“Do I look good?” he turned to look at his brother.

“What’s that question?” Osamu frowned.

“I dunno, it’s jus’…” he sighed, looking back at the mirror, adjusting the collar of the shirt.

“Since when aren’t ya confident about ya lookin’ good or not?” Osamu also started fixing his hair.

Atsumu gulped. He was right, what was up with him?

“Whatcha think, Sunarin?” he turned to look at Suna, that looked up from his phone to look at him.

“You look horrible.” he said, before looking back at his phone.

Atsumu groaned, turning to the mirror again, desperately fixing everything that looked a bit off on his costume.

“Ya look fine.” Osamu patted his back “I dunno what’s with ya, ya know yer gonna steal the breath of many girls out there.”

Atsumu took a deep breath, grateful for his brother’s words.

“Yeah, yer right, I dunno what got into me.” he sighed.

You. You were what got into him.

The play was a complete success, everything went fine and the public loved it.

They leaved the stage, leaving behind the screams of Atsumu’s fangirls.

You had noticed that Atsumu acted a bit weird, his hands lingered a bit more on your waist or arm, he grabbed your body gently, like if you were a doll he wouldn’t want to break, and you swear he got awfully close when you were pretending to kiss.

But you found yourself thinking that he was just acting like that because now it wasn’t a rehearsal and it was the real play, which seemed perfectly normal.

You took a deep breath, you were a bit tired but mostly felt happy because it was the first time you were the protagonist on a school play.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey.” you turned around and realized Atsumu was there “What do you want?”

“Why ya have to be so rude?” he crossed his arms “I was ‘ere to tell ya that…” he gulped.

“Well, I’m just always defensive when you’re around cause I don’t know when you’re gonna start insulting me.” you scoffed “You were gonna tell me…?”

Atsumu looked at you and felt a knot on his stomach. He couldn’t understand what was happening with him. He was the master of flirting, but there was something about you that made him not being able to say a simple compliment.

“That ya did really good today.” he cleared his throat “‘m glad ya didn’t embarrass me.”

“Can’t you tell me something good without being rude afterwards?” you rolled your eyes “Thanks, you did a really nice job too.”

He took a deep breath “I know.”

You two were in a uncomfortable silence for 5 seconds before Atsumu stuttered something.

“‘nd ya l-look really pretty on that d-dress…” he said, looking down at his feet.

You would be lying if you said that his words didn’t caught you out of guard. You had to mentally establish yourself again before answering.

“Thanks…” you mumbled, and now there was this feeling telling you that you had to say something back “You look good too.” you awkwardly said.

He looked up again, a smirk on his lips “I thought ya said I didn’t looked like a charmin’ prince, were ya lyin’?”

You frowned. Atsumu’s favorite activity was ruining moments like this or what?

“Actually, I’m lying to you right now, I still think you don’t look like a charming prince.” you crossed your arms.

“Oh, c’mon, ya jus’ said I looked good.” he walked towards you.

He didn’t knew what he was planning to do right now, he was just feeling a bit confident.

“Well, I lied.”

“Jus’ admit it, this charmin’ prince is handsome as hell.” he chuckled “Don’t be shy, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” you sighed.

He put his hand up, trying to reach a lock of your hair “But ya were—”

You interrupted him by taking his hand, not letting him get closer to your hair. You placed his hand on his chest and kept it there with your hand on top.

“Me saying that you look good it’s not gonna change the fact that I hate you.” you grumbled “So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to change. Excuse me.”

You let go of his hand and walked past him. He followed with his eyes, his mouth slightly opened as he kept his hand where you placed it on his chest; his cheeks getting that red color once again.

“I hate you too.” he mumbled.

After that day, Atsumu was acting weird, but you didn’t mind since he was being more kind and not starting fights with you all the time.

And suddenly you woke up to a text that said you were invited to Atsumu’s party. He did parties almost every 3 months, and you were never invited to this ones, so it was a surprise that you were now invited, of course you were suspicious about it at fist, but your friends convinced you to go with them.

So here you were, wearing a navy blue dress that highlighted your curves, you also did a pretty makeup with help of one of your friends. You looked really gorgeous.

And he noticed it.

As soon as your got there he noticed you, and he had to go get a drink because he couldn’t believe the way you made his stomach turn.

“I thought ya were gonna look for some girl.” Osamu appeared in the kitchen, also going for a drink.

Atsumu jumped in his place when his brother appeared out of nowhere, he gulped and turned to see him “Nah, I don’t feel like it today.”

Osamu scoffed when he said that, he turned to look at him and saw that he wasn’t laughing, so he raised an eyebrow. That was weirdly suspicious, but he had been acting suspicious all month, he didn’t even wanted to touch another girl, and that was very weird in him considering how he usually was.

“Ya serious?” he took a sip of his drink.

“What do ya mean!? Of course ‘m serious! Who do ya think I am?” he crossed his arms, Osamu shrugged.

“Jus’s sayin’, ya been actin’ really not like ya lately.”

“I jus’ wanna stop bein’ that ‘playboy’ people think I am, that’s all.”

“‘nd ‘m supposed to believe that?” he narrowed his eyes “What’s with ya? Yer planning somethin’ or…?”

Atsumu sighed and pressed his lips against each other. How was he supposed to lie to his twin?

“I dunno, I want a real relationship.” he confessed.

“With who?”

“There’s no who…” he mumbled, Osamu raised an eyebrow and Atsumu felt accused “y/n.”

Osamu was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke “Of all people, she was the last one I thought you’d mention.”

“I dunno what’s with me, alright!? I jus’ started feelin’ weird aroun’ her…”

“I thought you hated her?”

“I thought that too!” he said, frustrated with himself “I don—”

You stepped into the kitchen, letting out a small “Oh” when looking at the twins.

“Hey.” you mumbled.

“Ah? Ya came, what a surprise.” Atsumu tried to play it off, smiling at you.

Osamu patted his shoulder before he got out of the kitchen, leaving you both alone.

“Yeah, my friends practically dragged me here.” you said, opening the fridge “You only have beers here?”

“Of course.” he smirked “Ya don’t drink?”

“Nope.” you closed the fridge and went to get a glass of water.

“Ya should try it, jus’ a sip?” you shook your head “Well, in that case we could—”

“I’m gonna go with my friends now.” you said, before he could even speak.

You leaved the kitchen and left him there, cursing under his breath because he wasn’t able make a move on you.

You were driving him insane and he didn’t knew why. He didn’t knew why he had this need to be nice to you, why his cheeks got red whenever he saw you laughing in school, why suddenly he got bothered by how close you actually were to Suna without him ever noticing.

It’s like one day he woke up and suddenly he couldn’t take you out of his mind. And he just started noticing how kind, smart and pretty you were.

The party went on and it was like you were getting away from him, every time he tried to get close to you, suddenly you were thirsty or someone was dragging you away.

The truth is, you were a bit overwhelmed by this party, your friends kept getting away from you or dragging you trying to pair you with the 7th guy of the night; so you decided to get outside.

In the patio there was couples making out, so you decided to go upstairs and find a balcony, and surely there was one in the master bedroom.

You breathed and leaned on the railing when suddenly you heard someone clearing his throat.

“Oh, I guess I wasn’t the only one to choose this place.” you sighed, looking back at the street.

“I got ‘ere first.” Atsumu smiled, letting out the smoke on his lungs.

You turned to look at him “You smoke?”

“Yeah.” he said “Want some?”

“I don’t smoke, I don’t like the smell.” you mumbled.

“Then I guess I won’t smoke anymore.” he said, throwing the cigarette to the floor and stepping on it.

“So, what brings ya here?” he moved closer to her.

“What brings you here? You’re the host.”

“Hm, jus’ wanted some time for myself.” he smirked “It’s gettin’ a bit borin’ in there.”

You scoffed “That’s the biggest lie someone ever told me. I just can’t believe you think your own party is boring.”

“Well, maybe it’s borin’ because I wasn’t spendin’ the time with the girl I wanted, princess.” he got even more closer and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“You’re drunk?” the can of beer on his hand answering your question.

“Ya haven’t answered my question.”

“Because it smells like marijuana in there.” you took a deep breath “I like parties, but today it just wasn’t my day, I guess.”

“Well, ‘m glad ya still came.” he smiled “It’s good seein’ yer pretty face, y’know?”

“The beer is definitely doing something to your head.” you chuckled.

“Maybe, maybe is makin’ me more confident.” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, you didn’t move, cause, to be honest, it was cold outside, and he was warm “Yer annoyingly pretty, y’know?”

“What does that even mean?”

“I jus’ don’t know how can I get rid of the fuzzy feelin’ in my stomach every time I see ya.”

You felt your cheeks getting warmer, all this situation was weird, you didn’t knew if he was saying all this stuff because it was on his mind or because the alcohol was making him imagine things.

But drunken words were sober thoughts, right?

Atsumu wasn’t the only one that had been having trouble with his feelings. You found yourself looking at him at the club when he was giving charming smiles at the girls that spoke to him. You didn’t knew why or when you started to see him differently, but you just couldn’t let yourself process the feelings.

Suddenly he had became incredibly handsome and you finally admitted how talented he was, and how much you enjoyed working with him because he put his heart and soul on the stage.

“Yer eyes are like two stars.” he mumbled “I could look at them all day.”

“You’re so weird.” you sighed, looking away from him, he chuckled.

“Did I make ya nervous? Maybe ya want me to kiss ya?”

“Keep dreaming.”

“Well, make my dreams come true. Kiss me.”

You turned to look at him, his words caught you out of guard.

“I’m not kissing you.” he made a pout with your words.

“Oh, please, I’ve been wantin’ to since I saw ya on that princess dress.” he leaned closer “Jus’ one little kiss and I’ll be happy, yer such a pretty princess ‘nd I need it.”

“How many girls do you say that to?”

He scoffed “Only ya. Yer my only princess.”

You rolled your eyes, but found yourself getting flustered with his smooth talking.

“Is that a yes to the kiss?”

“Just one.” you whispered, his eyes practically sparkled and his pupil dilated.

“I’ll make it worth it.”

The empty can of beer fell to the ground as his hands found their way to your waist, holding you tightly before he kissed you, letting you taste the alcohol on his tongue.

Your hands rested on his chest, and for a few seconds the kiss seemed unreal, you just couldn’t believe you were kissing the guy you swore to hate because he played with every girl, what did that made you?

Atsumu felt like he was now sober enough, taking one of his hands to your cheek, making the kiss even deeper. And he could’ve gone for hours, but he was out of breath after a few seconds.

You two looked into eachother’s eyes for some seconds before you looked away, a frown on your face, but you weren’t upset at all.

Atsumu had a big smile on his face, like if he just won the biggest price. He leaned towards you and rubbed his nose against your cheek.

“Yer a dream.” he sighed, and you felt his hot breath on your face.

“You’re an idiot.” you said back, your eyes slightly closing.

“I’ll be anythin’ ya want, jus’ be mine.” he said, looking deeply into your eyes again “Please?”

“Didn’t you hated me?” you raised your eyebrows, then chuckled at how stupid this all was.

“I thought so.” he smiled “But I was just bein’ stupid, yer the best girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

“You’re so cheesy.” you teased him, feeling your cheeks warm.

“I don’t care, yer a real life princess.” he kissed your forehead, gently stroking your hair “No, scratch that. You’re a whole fairytale.”

He was so lovely and his touch was so tender, so different from when you saw him talking to other girls. His words felt so real, and they helped your feelings come out.

God, you could hear Suna’s laugh when he found out you ended up dating Atsumu, Miya Atsumu.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #haikyuu atsumu #hq atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu fluff

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witchlyboo · 3 years ago

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Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

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@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

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finnyboywolfhard · 3 years ago

Text

Gross

Richie Tozier x Reader

summary: Y/N likes Richie so much its gross.

Inspiration: Gross by Olivia Rodrigo

warnings: literally just pure fluff, cursing we know who this is about

word count: 2.1k

The bass was heavy and loud, the people were insufferably packed together. Y/N was a really good friend, or so she kept telling herself, for coming to this party just to appease Bev. Ever since they met at a bookstore, they had gotten really close-despite living in two different towns. Y/N maneuvered her way through the swarm of people. She turned the corner into the living room and spotted her red headed friend in the corner alongside the group, she had heard called themselves ‘The Losers Club’. Her elbows starting jamming into people as she finally crossed the threshold of people and practically fell into the arms of one, Richie Tozier.

“Well, well, well. It appears that you’ve fallen for me.” Y/N let out a chuckle at the response. His brown eyes, goofy little grin and messy, curly hair did manage to melt her heart just a little bit in that moment.

“So, Y/N, you’ve met Richie.” Bev said as she pulled her from Richie’s arms and into a hug. The two stand swaying for a second before Y/N releases herself from the hug. She couldn’t help but notice the six set of eyes staring at her.

“Jesus guys, would it kill you to interact with her instead of stare.” Bev pulled Y/N’s back to her chest and looked toward the group. “You guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Ben, Bill, Mike, Stan, Eddie and Richie.” She pointed at each one as they were introduced.

“Ni-Ni-Nice to me-meet you, Y/N.” Bill said waving to her. Y/N and the group got acquainted a little before they all started breaking off in sections, leaving Richie and Y/N alone.

“Hey.” Y/N said breaking the awkward ‘silence’. “I don’t know this house at all, could you guide me to the kitchen for something to drink?”

“Of course m’lady.” He said taking on one of his many accents. He lightly grabbed her hand and dragged her through some people and into the kitchen. The girl somehow found a water bottle amidst the copious amounts of alcohol.

“Come on, not even one drink?” Richie said leaning in to shout over the music, their faces coming extremely close.

“No sir, I have to drive home tonight. Who’s your lucky DD?”

“Stan the Man Uris.” Richie slurred together slightly. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t quite sober either. Y/N let out an ‘Ah’ in response. She noticed how many eyes were now spent looking at her and Richie.

“Hey Richie?”

“Yes my darling angel?” The nickname made her blush, but she had a bigger thing to focus on.

“Why is every girl in the room staring at you?”

“Oh…Uhh…well you see, I made a joke to some gullible ass freshman that I had a 12 inch wang and he’s started telling everyone. Now the class clown is somehow becoming the class arm candy. I just want it to stop.”

“What if we made them stare for another reason?”

“You got an idea?”

“Two, first off how do you feel about slapping?”

“Please don’t slap me.”

“Okay, what about pretending we’re gonna go hook up?”

“Now we don’t have to pretend if you don’t want to-“ She shoved his arm.

“Richie, do you want it to stop or not?”

“What should I do?”

“I’m gonna get really, really close.” She said as she pressed her body flush with his. Her face was centimeters away from his, she pulled his face down so that she could whisper into his ear. “Now wrap your arms around my waist and pull me closer. Start talking about something random and just ignore what I am doing.” She pulled back just slightly as to start making eye contact. Her stomach was a flutter with butterflies and the proximity. His arms wrapped around her and snuggly brought her closer to him. He began jabbering about something stupid Eddie had said earlier that day about your hand getting chopped off while it’s out the car window. To sell the point to ones close enough to see, which considering how dense the party was was a lot of people, she kept glancing between his eyes and his lips while he was talking. After a few minutes past, she pulled him down to whisper again.

“Is it working?” She watched as his eyes lightly glazed the room and shook his head no. She cursed to herself. Richie’s eyes lit up with an idea, and his arms squeezed her tighter into him.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Richie leaned down to whisper into her ear. He leans back and Y/N shakes her head yes. He gently grabs her chin and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. They stay kissing for a brief span before pulling apart. He leaned into her ear and said “If I get you to the front door, can we go out to your car?” All Y/N did in response was grab his hand. He lead her to the door, and she led him the rest of the way. Once they get to her car, she lets her head fall against the headrest on the seat.

“Oh my god it’s so much nicer out here.” She let out with a chuckle.

“You can say that again.” Richie said in the same manner. “Thank you for back there by the way, I just needed to get the fuck out of there.”

“Oh yeah, no worries. What should we do about Bev and the boys?”

“I figured that when they can’t find us, they’ll come looking. In the meantime, we could hangout…that is if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Y/N said with a beaming smile. And from that day on, they hung out as much as they physically could. Their weird fake relationship blossomed into a wonderful friendship and then a very real relationship. For nearly 3 months, the pair had seen each other at least five times in a week. Whether that meant Richie driving the 45 minutes to her or vice versa. It was a lot, and it was expensive but they didn’t care. They were having fun and loving where they were.

Y/N was hanging a new photo of her and Richie on her wall by her bed, as Richie watched idly on her bed. His eyes wandered around the walls and furniture at all the different photos and keepsakes she had kept. While most of the photos were of either him, or the two together, he didn’t feel narcissistic in loving how her room looked. He loved it just because it was hers.

“So tell me my darling angel, how was school today?”

“Fine.”

“No Y/N. We’re not doing this bullshit today. What happened?”

“Nothing, just this dumb bitch Penelope C.”

“God, I hate that Penelope C piece of shit.” He said, matching her same angered tone.

“Rich, you don’t even know her babe.”

“I trust your opinion of her, if you hate her, I fucking despise her.” Y/N grabbed her boyfriends face wasting no time in making out with him. She pulls back and just looks at him stunned.

“Why was that the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me?”

“What can I say? I know what drives the ladies crazy.”

“I’m sure of it.” She said sarcastically. Richie did his signature puppy dog eyes, and her icy heart was thawed. She gave him one more peck to the lips, and then began placing pecks scattered all over his face. He grabbed her by her hips and flipped her to be beneath him. He began tickling her relentlessly. Her laughter filled the room, yet also drained her. She pried him off of her. The two lay side by side, heads turned to make eye contact.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Y/N.” Richie said. Y/N moved her head closer and gave him one more soft kiss.

Music softly filled the car. Richies hand was placed gently in Y/N’s lap, his thumb absentmindedly grazes her leg. Her eyes were wandering, looking at each driveway, house, mailbox and road. One day, hopefully, her and Richie would be driving to their own house. They would pull into the driveway and go inside to see their pets or their kids. Her future with him seemed bright. A wide smile creeped across her face as did a light blush.

“What’s got you so smiley?” Richie said, glancing away from the road to look at her.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“You were thinking about me huh?”

“Yeah…” Y/N said embarrassed.

“Tell me all the dirty little details, my darling angel.” He said cockily, smirking towards the road.

“Ugh, Richie don’t be gross. I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“I’m sorry, but is it so hard to believe that my hot girlfriend is thinking about her incredibly sexy boyfriend?”

“Oh shut the hell up.” She said through her laughter. He started faintly laughing with her.

“What were you really thinking about?”

“Just about what it would be like to have a future together. And what it would be like to drive to a home of our own with things of our own.”

“You really want a future with me?”

“Of course I do.”

“I can’t wait for it then.” He said smiling, transferring his hand from her thigh to her hand. He gave her hand a light squeeze. They drove in comfortable silence for a moment, before Y/N had the idea to stir the pot.

“Oh and Richie?”

“Yeah?”

“Think of all the sex we could have in a house of our own.” She said with a smirk as they pulled into her driveway.

Bev wandered around Y/N’s room as she was chaotically putting away her laundry all over her room.

“Jesus, everywhere I turn, there’s Richie.” Bev said breaking the silence, making Y/N giggle to herself. “You really like that dumbass don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” Y/N stopped for a moment to think about Richie Tozier before continuing,“I can’t help but think and talk about him all the time. He makes me feel so safe and loved, and he always makes me laugh harder than anyone else. I want everything from him- the highs, the lows, and everything in between. I want to tell him everything about my day and i want to hear about the trivial shit he talks about like the traffic coming to see me or what bill did at lunch that day. I like him so so much. I lo-love him.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda gross.” Bev joked with Y/N. “I’m happy for ya Y/N/N, as annoying as he is, he is a really good guy.”

“God, he is so annoying… but it’s kinda why I love him.” The girls continued their night as planned, but the thoughts of how Y/N felt about Richie never left.

As soon as Bev left her house early the next morning, she hopped in her car and went over to Richie’s house. Bev always had to leave super early because of her dad, so Y/N knew she couldn’t just knock on the Tozier’s door. She climbed her way up a tree and across some of Richie’s roof in order to knock on his window. A shirtless and boxer clad Richie came the window groggily.

“What are you doing here darling angel? It’s fucking 7 am.” He said, rubbing his eyes and through a yawn.

“I just really gotta talk to you.” His eyes widened at that sentence. He ushered her in and onto his bed. She sat for a few seconds and then stood up to pace a small line.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Richie said.

“I just…I like you so much it’s gross.” Y/N said looking right at him. “And you were right.” She said with a roll of the eyes and a light stamp of her foot.

“What? What do you mean ‘I’m right’?”

“That very first night we met, hell the very first moments we met. You were right, I did fall for you.”

“Y/N…” Richie said quietly, coming up to bring his body flush to hers, just the moment at the party.

“I love you Richie.”

“I love you so fucking much Y/N.” He said, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. Y/N sure was glad he was the one she gave her heart to.

#richie tozier #richie toizer x reader #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie toizer imagine

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coraskeeper · 4 years ago

Text

⇢ 𝗺𝗵𝗮 𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗼𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝘀𝗵𝘆 𝗳𝗲𝗺! 𝘀/𝗼 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗸

↳ 𝗳𝘁: 𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗶, 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮, 𝗷𝗶𝗿𝗼𝘂, 𝗳𝗲𝗺! 𝗽𝗼𝗰 𝘀/𝗼

↳ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗰 𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗵𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀 𝗶𝗱 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘆 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗯𝗱𝗲, 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳

↳ 𝘄𝗰: 𝟭.𝟱𝗸 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗽𝘀

𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐔𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚

being that she herself has a bunny quirk she instantly falls in love with you

will openly court you to let everyone else know that you’re hers

she's super open with skinship and unless you tell her you don’t like it she’ll do it no matter who’s around

intimate hugs, randomly groping you, kisses, pet names, etc.

she thinks you’re so small and cute compared to her

calls you cute nicknames like “ bunny “, “ carrot “, “ mommy’s good girl “

she likes giving you piggy back rides and likes it when you scratch her ears too

thinks its the cutest thing when you get embarrassed and you curl into yourself so innocently

just makes her want to ruin you more and more every time

loves feeding you and giving you presents bc she wants to see you well fed and happy

she rubs your ears a lot in tons of situation, if you're sad, uncomfortable, did a good job at something or even if you guys are just simply chilling doing nothing at all

when you guys first starting dating she wouldn’t touch your tail bc she didn't want to make you uncomfortable bc she knows how shy you are

now now now, the first time she found out her sensitive your tail was, oh lord

you just released the demon inside of this woman

buys you a pretty collar with rumi’s bunny written on it and a pretty bow on the back

NSFW WARNING BELOW!

“ you like it when mommy touches you here, don't cha carrot? “

this woman has a mommy kink, no other opinions are valid

loves loves loves giving you hickeys all over

rubs your ears after you come down from hard orgasms

loves to softly degrade you too

“ look at this slutty hole, dripping for me “

“ look at you, spreading yourself for me waiting for me to breed you like the pretty slut you are “

breeding kink, i said what I said

rubs your tail when she pegs you from behind bc she knows how much you like it when she does

“ look at you taking my cock like the obedient little breeding bitch you are “

rumi calling you a breeding bitch i-

her favorite is doggy style with your hands tied behind your back while she rails you from behind while she pulls on your collar

will s p a n k you and makes you count too

literally humps you like a bunny in heat

she won't require you to pleasure her back bc she just wants to take care of you but if you do she’ll praise you the whole time

let her roughly fuck your face while your in nothing but some skimpy white lingerie you can see your brown nipples through, a collar, and some thigh highs

has SO much stamina

also likes good ol missionary with your knees pressed into your chest while cry and drool for her

“ that’s right, cum for me bunny “

loves making you ride her face or 69ing with you on top, she knows your shy and your embarrassed and vulgar expressions make it soooo much more watching you writhe in pleasure for her

will make you ride her, and won't help you at all bc she's a big meanie and she loves to watch you struggle to impale yourself on her fake cock while you gush all over her thighs

if you try and ride her and she thinks you’re going to slow, she’ll fuck you with the powerful pretty ass legs and ruin you from under you

she’s so rough with you and leaves bruises everywhere but she’s never so rough to the point she hurts you

when you cum she rubs your ears and tells you how good you did

“ that’s my good girl “ ugh

will clean you up and carry you around everywhere, gives you her clothes to sleep in

if you fall asleep right after your bath, shell dress you, put on your bonnet for you, and make you something to eat while you rest

i will let this woman destroy me pls i got so carried away I-

𝐉𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐤𝐚

she literally adores your cute ass floppy ears

literally takes pictures of your ears and tails and face and shows everyone and adores it when you get embarrassed

she’s so sweet to you just buys you any and everything

writes you cute ass songs

bc you’re so shy she’s always going to ask before she touches you

consent consent consent

when you get uncomfortable around a large group of people and she sees your ears lay flat on top of your head, will subtly pull you aside to a quiet place

calls you things like “ my muse “ or “ darling “

she understands that you don’t like loud things bc of how sensitive your ears are being that she herself has sensitive ears too bc of her quirk

when you can’t sleep or have nightmares she’ll sing to you and gently scratch behind your ears

studies up on your anatomy bc she wants to know as much about you as possible

will teach you how to play her acoustic guitar bc she knows it won’t be too loud for your sensitive ears

she loves how your ears just sit perfectly in the middle of your curls you just look so pretty

she likes it when you wear bright colors that contrast her own wardrobe

NSFW WARNING BELOW!!

she might seem like she’s pretty chill but in bed i believe that kyoka is a mean ass lazy dom

she makes you work for your orgasms and she will edge and punish you

“ go faster or you wont get to cum at all “

she likes watching you desperately grind your sweet cunt onto her thigh or against her own arousal

likes to eat you out from behind or play with your cunt in front of a mirror

she lovesssss playing with your brown nipples and if you’re insecure about them she will casually take time out of her day just to appreciate them

shower sex shower sex shower sexxxxx

likes seeing you all wet and the water falling off your body just turns her on

mirror sex with jirou ugh

she loves spreading you open in front of a mirror and lazily fingering you until your crying and dripping all over you, her, and the bedsheets from the overstim

“ don’t be a crybaby, you can take more can't you, darling? “

she tugging on your tail when you cum bc she knows how sensitive it is and she loves hearing you moan loud for her but will be so mean to you about it

“ shut your mouth “

will smack your cute ass while she ruthlessly grinds into you and calls you names

“ you want everyone to hear how loud you are don't you slut “

will edge you until you cry and won't let you cum until there are tears streaming down your face and your begging her for release

“ only good girls get to cum, not selfish sluts “

she will probably call you names when you cum too lol

after care is 10/10 tho

she makes it up to you for being mean and buys you ice cream after she bathes you

sings to you and gives you snacks and ear rubs

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨

she is a very sociable person, she loves to interact with others and make friends while you on the other hand are super introverted and stays to yourself

everyone is surprised when you too start to go out bc you are polar opposites

will never shut up about you after that

“ yeah, that cute lil bunny over there.. that's my girlfriend “

calls you things like “ babe “, “ bun “, and “ love “

shows everyone cute pictures of you she took off guard and rubs your ears when you get mad at her for embarrassing you

she wont do anything you dont like and will always ask what your comfortable with and is constantly asking if you're too overwhelmed when your out somewhere

she loves your quirk and she thinks its so cute

she will buy you cute skirts and cuts hole out of the back of them just to see your cute little tail pop out the back

will hold your hand no matter where you are so you don't get lost or feel too uncomfortable

she hates when your sad or feeling insecure and uncomfortable around others bc your ears droop on top of your head and she hates how lifeless they look

she likes buying you cute ribbons to tie around the base of your ears

matching pjs and disney movies anyone?

likes seeing you in frilly pink things and pretty chokers

she's a people pleaser so anything you want, if it's in her ability to give it to you trust me you’ll have it

NSFW WARNING BELOW!!

she isn't mean to you as your dom bUT she is SO unashamedly vulgar

she will say the nastiest things to you with an innocent smile on her face while she wrecks you

“ look at how your pussy just clenches for me, how cute “

likes to make you look when she plays with you

the biggest tease

“ don't be embarrassed love, i love when your pussy sucks my fingers and tongue in like that “

it is her mission to make you squirt every single time you have sex

likes to make you eat her out on your knees while you play with yourself under her

she is a BITER she loves to bite you everywhere

tugs on your ears when she fucks your face and calls you a good bunny when you make her cum

“ look at my good girl, you look so pretty with my cum all over your face, love “

please wear thigh highs and garters for her, she will worship you

loves the inside of your mouth, she’ll stick her fingers in your mouth and then make you talk to her while she fingers the hell out of you

“ aw bun, look at how stupid im fucking you “

toys toys toys!!

loves using all types of vibrators on you

she isn't as mean to where she'd edge you, she hates not giving you what you want but she will always overstim you

“ look love, you came so much the bed is soaking “

“ look at the mess your gushing cunt made “

she will embarrass you any chance she gets

she also likes mutual masturbation

watching you get off to watching her get off? i think tf yeah

sits you on her lap so she can fucking you with the vibrator on the highest setting while playing with your tail

will have a normal conversation with you like she’s not literally ruining your insides and will tease you when you cant respond to her without moaning and whimpering

“ what was that babe? I can't understand anything you're saying, speak up “

loves seeing your ears and nose twitch when you cum

cuddles you and runs a warm bath for you both

gives you soft massages bc she knows how sore you’ll be afterwards

puts on your matching bonnets and makes you breakfast the next morning

aftercare queen yess

#bnha x reader #mina x reader #miruko x reader #jirou x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #bnha headcanons #bnha girls #mha x reader #mha imagines #rumi usagiyama x reader #jirou kyoka x reader #mina ashido x reader #x poc!reader

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thefeedress · 4 years ago

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FFA MUSINGS

I was 17 when I learned the terms "feeder" "feedee" and "feederism" from stumbling across one of those trash documentaries about the kink. Apparently, my sexuality revolved around extremes and predators: creepy straight men coercing naive women into transforming their bodies and their lives - the women didn't particularly seem to be getting off on it or even have much agency in the whole thing. The men were awful. (Sometimes, these days, I look back and wonder how much all the negatives of what I saw were exaggerated by the editing…)

That was my lightbulb moment, where I discovered the label for something very personal and private that I'd had all my life but always felt confused and ashamed about. I now also had the pleasure of feeling extra disgusting and very alone, having been shown what horrible company I was in, and that I now knew I was a feeder, but apparently all feeders were men.

Any furtive investigations online (in the reasonably early days of the internet) seem to confirm this suspicion: female feeders were not A Thing, there might possibly be one or two others out there at best. Male gainers only seemed to exist in their own niche in gay subculture, and although I was happy they were out there somewhere living their best lives, they were obviously Not For Me.

I was 34 when after years of pushing it all to the back of my mind, I finally gave in. I've been with the same (non-feedist) partner since my early 20s, so I just assumed that I'd never be able to explore it irl anyway, and that was that. I can't remember what happened or why I decided that I had to try to find some others to connect with, even just to chat with, but in the end (with my partner's blessing) I found and joined Feabie (of which I have many opinions but I'll leave those for another time…) and interacted with other feedists online for the first time in my life.

Guess what: straight male feedees exist. They exist, and there's fucking loads of them!! Tons of the buggers in my inbox all day every day for weeks. Pretty heady experience going from outcast freak to Much Sought After Item - apparently female feeders really are quite rare, or we don't have much of an online presence (or most of us are lurking in a secret lair somewhere that the others haven't invited me to, rude….) or they're also out there somewhere thinking they're the only one.

The unbridled glee of feeling popular and desirable for being something I'd always felt ashamed of did wear off a teensy bit after the endless onslaught of "hey" "hi" "how u" "ayy babygurl" "I'm looking for a feeder please accommodate all my kinks even though I'm a total stranger and I clearly don't give a shit about you as a human being" "You're a woman on the internet I'm entitled to your attention don't be difficult what's your problem" and my current favourite, the bizarrely ominous "Can I ask ur opinion?" (The answer is no my friend, if I wanted to be spammed with anonymous torso pics that I'm meant to manufacture comments about that you can get off to I'd have asked YOU.)

But. I'm still completely overjoyed that male feedees exist, that I've spoken to so many cool and interesting and lovely guys, that I've had experiences I'd always assumed I wouldn't, that I FINALLY MET OTHER FFAs and they are awesome and now I'm close friends with one and it's freaking GREAT. All of this has also lead my partner and I to discover polyamory and now I'm in love with two people who love me back NOBODY EVER SAID YOU WERE ALLOWED TO DO THAT WHY THE FUCK DID NO ONE TELL ME

There are so many nuances and preferences I'd never considered. I knew what I liked and that's what I sought out in terms of porn and that was that. Actually talking to feedees and learning about the whole spectrum of things they each did or didn't enjoy or want to participate in was a revelation, and also helped me clarify my own preferences myself.

There are still things I've yet to come to terms with or decide how to feel about. The main things I'd always felt guilty or ashamed of were less to do with fat or fat guys, it was the feeding itself.

Where being an FFA is concerned - I like to think that if I'd ever been lucky enough to have a fat boyfriend when I was younger, I wouldn't have been shallow enough to care what anyone else thought. It's possible I'm giving my younger self too much credit; I know for certain that some people in my life would have made nasty comments, I was also hugely insecure myself, and I have no idea what it really would have been like. I have no doubt that living all my life in a fatphobic society has affected me in more ways than I'm even aware of (same as everyone else in some way, I'm guessing....). I think any uneasiness I felt there was less worrying about shallow friends or family members, and more how to find potential fat partners without offending them. I have always been conscious of the fact that the majority of fat people would very likely be horrified to be thought of and objectified through the lens of this fetish. You never know what someone's relationship to their own body is, but it's safe to bet that it's a more complex one than it seems, and also, unless you're expressly invited into that relationship by that person, it's none of your fucking business.

But anyway, the main reason I never had many hangups about it was that I don't think I even *was* attracted to fat people when I was young - sometimes I'm not sure I was even attracted to anyone. I had crushes on boys all the time, but I never thought of anyone sexually. My teenage fantasies were pure belly kink: stuffing, chugging, bloating, inflation, any kind of ridiculous fantasy belly expansion - the actual fattening aspect of feeding was less a part of it, and fancying fat dudes was never connected to it. By the time I'd begun to join the dots and wonder if I liked fat boys, I'd started to happen across media that portrays the worst of Feedism, and since I liked sadistic fucked up stuff and already felt ashamed of it, all of that just confirmed to me that I was right to hate myself. Even now, when I'm exposed to much more conversation about this kink than I ever used to be, I notice a lot of love for soft feedism, wholesome fatness appreciation, body positivity, romance (all of which I absolutely love, don't get me wrong) and I still sometimes feel Iike I'm being left out of the party. Keeping my fingers crossed for more consensual femdom-feedism love (and content, ugh…)

But… what would have happened if I hadn't gotten the fuck over myself and put myself out there, tried to find others? How many other young people see themselves portrayed horribly in the media and hide parts of themselves FROM THEMSELVES forever? What happens next? I've apparently found the one person who likes all the same twisted things I do, but actually getting to see him irl ever or do any of the things we want to do seems impossible, and not just because of Covid.

This fetish is lonely for most of us I think, in some way or another. There aren't many feedists, there don't seem to be as many female feeders or male feedees, there probably aren't many people who will share the same preferences within the fetish that you do, and frankly when you filter out the people who aren't crazy or creepy or don't know how to hold a conversation, the pool shrinks even further. I've seen plenty of posts bemoaning how hard it is to find someone, but seriously, having spent most of my life in a vacuum where this stuff is concerned, I'm still buzzing from having engaged with the small handful of people I've engaged with, even just to chat to.

What I want to say to my younger self is: you're a good person. You're just a kinky bitch, that's all.

I feel like this description probably applies to all the best people, I can live with that.

#feedisim #feedist #female feeder #female fat admirer #male feedee #ffa #bhm

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plant-flwrs · 4 years ago

Note

(2/2) Everyone treats her badly and there is angst because she hates that people can't see her as more than a Malfoy and assume she's like Draco because they’re so close. And then kind of go with that? The background is kinda detailed 😂 sorry. I just had this idea stuck in my head and well I suck at writing and you write Draco as a brother amazingly.

similar shadows // george weasley

entire request: (1/2) okay I'm finally here sending the ask. So can I have a reader x George (idk who else to ask for). So the reader is Draco's twin but in Ravenclaw. Her and Draco are really close and Draco is very protective over her but not overbearing. She's shy, book nerdy and socially awkward so she tends to stay with Draco; Draco understands her (cue sweet brother). (2/2) Everyone treats her badly and there is angst because she hates that people can't see her as more than a Malfoy and assume she's like Draco because they’re so close. And then kind of go with that? The background is kinda detailed 😂 sorry. I just had this idea stuck in my head and well I suck at writing and you write Draco as a brother amazingly.

masterlist!

a/n: ugh i love writing draco as a brother even if his characterization is completely inaccurate for it, he just has such little brother energy to me (and a warning, i took a lot of creative liberties for draco’s personality in this, i couldn’t resist it. it just made the brother/sister dynamic sm better in my opinion). also included flirty!george in this just bc i love it. i hope u like this, tysm for the request!!

summary: Living in the Malfoy shadow conditioned you to behave a certain way, avoid certain things. But, once your able to use the Quidditch pitch to finally prove you are something different than your last name, everything seems to fall into place. You even catch a certain Weasley’s eye.

(4.9k)

------

The air in Malfoy Manor was always thick; thick with unsaid words, hateful tension, and awful regrets. It was a blessing for you to leave and go to Hogwarts every year.

The train ride was something you looked forwards to. Curled up in the window seat, because Draco always let you have the window seat, with whatever book you were reading at the moment. You tuned out Draco’s usual complaining to Pansy and Blaise, indulging yourself in the novel perched on your lap.

The trip never lasted long enough, though, and soon you were shuffled into Hogwarts. Draco gave your shoulder one last bump and a weak smile before you went to sit at the Ravenclaw table. You tilted your head back, gazing up at the ceiling with wonder in your eyes. The Ravenclaw table was filling up, and you managed a seat closest to the professors’ table. Your eyes scanned the Slytherin table until they found the familiar head of platinum hair you were looking for. Even if he wasn’t with you, just seeing Draco made you feel a little safer.

Dinner went quickly with your head shoved in a book, and soon you were excused to your common rooms. Draco slid away from the mass of green ties, walking with you to your common room. The two of you walked slowly, falling from the crowd to stroll by yourselves.

“I heard that the Ravenclaw Quidditch team needs a new seeker this year,” Draco started, shoving his hands in his pants pockets, “maybe you should try out.”

“I don’t know,” you clutched your book closer to your chest, “Quidditch was always your thing.”

“You’re a great flyer, Y/n,” Draco glanced at your hesitant expression, “look, it can’t hurt to try out.”

“Maybe,” you offered him, enjoying the way he smiled proudly once you gave in.

He wrapped a brotherly arm around your shoulders, marching you up the endless amount of stairs to the Ravenclaw common room.

The next day of lessons came far too soon, and your timetable clutched in your shaky hands was giving you a headache. You looked up, seeing a familiar room number, but upon looking back at your timetable, you realized you were on the completely wrong side of the castle.

You turned on your heal, starting down a new corridor. Glancing at your watch, you saw you were already late for lessons. While your eyes were off the hallway in front of you, you hit the hard chest of someone coming your way.

“In a hurry, Malfoy?” the voice said as you both stumbled back.

George Weasley stood in front of you, a playful and happy expression on his handsome features. You knew he was only joking when he called you ‘Malfoy’, but you really did hate it. People called Draco that, and you didn’t often like to be associated with the reputation your father had curated with the last name.

“You two!” someone called from the end of the hallway.

George groaned, looking over your shoulder, “Great.”

“Detention, tonight, my office,” Filch told the two of you, pointing a finger in your faces.

You pulled back, eyeing his finger suspiciously. You didn’t realize you were doing it, but as George looked at you he noticed you were doing the signature Malfoy sneer.

“Thanks,” George said sarcastically, bumping your shoulder as he passed you.

You took a deep breath, starting off to find your class again.

“How were your classes?” Draco slumped next to you on the bench, pulling out a piece of what you thought might be pumpkin bread.

He tore off a chunk, eating it slowly. He held a piece out to you and you accepted it gratefully.

“Awful,” you said simply, putting your head to rest against your hand, “I couldn’t find half of them.”

“You should have told me, I could have helped,” Draco said, looking a little annoyed at you.

“You had your own classes to worry about,” you defended, taking another piece of pumpkin bread from him.

Draco rolled his eyes, looking around the courtyard until his eyes fell on Harry Potter sitting with a few other Gryffindors.

“Given any other thought about Quidditch? Tryouts are next week,” he mentioned, tearing his eyes away from Harry.

“I don’t know, depends on how hard my classes are,” you made up an excuse.

“Your classes are never hard for you,” Draco teased, giving you the rest of the bread, “and besides, I think you have a real chance of being a better seeker than Potter.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to contain the surprised laughter that bubbled from your chest.

“Yeah right!”

Draco scoffed, joining in your infectious laughter. You finished off the bread in your hand and reluctantly went to serve your detention with Filch.

You had never had detention before, so nerves racked your body. You looked around anxiously, twisting your hands behind your back.

“Malfoy,” George called to you from the end of the hallway.

You turned around to look at him, and waited while he jogged to catch up with you.

“You’re actually going to the detention? Figured you would have thrown a fit to Dumbledore to get out of it,” he said rudely, giving you a critical glance.

You ignored him, biting your tongue. You walked a few paces ahead of him, also ignoring his scoff.

You opened the door to Filch’s office, not bothering to wait for George. You sat on one of the old chairs in front of the desk, waiting for Filch’s sneer to turn into words.

“You two are going to polish the frames on all the portraits in this corridor,” he growled, placing two toothbrushes and one rag on his desk.

“All of them?” George repeated, sounding bothered.

“All of ‘em,” Filch said, his mouth turning up in a smile at the sight of misery.

You took a toothbrush and the rag, standing from your seat. You wordlessly walked out into the hallway and went all the way to one end. You kneeled, getting to work on a low hanging portrait. The portrait was a family sitting at a dining room table, mounds of food piled in front of them. There was a mother bouncing a baby on her knee, lifting food into it’s mouth. A young boy sat across from her, shoveling mashed potatoes into his small mouth. The father at the head of the table watched them both happily, cutting the large chicken at the center of the table. They all stopped what they were doing at the sight of you crouched in front of them, but once they saw you begin to clean, their cautious looks were replaced with thankful ones.

You watched the family, smiling faintly as they began eating again.

George had went to the opposite side of the hallway, and you began moving towards each other as the sun dwindled from the sky and candles dimly illuminated the hall. Soon, you were a few feet apart, both scrubbing with heavy hands. You moved onto the next portrait, craning your neck to look at it’s place much higher than you could reach.

You stood on the tips of your toes, extending your arm as far as it would go. You couldn’t even reach the bottom of the frame. Suddenly, George’s taller frame was hovering next to you, watching with an entertained smirk as you balanced on your toes.

“Need some help?” he drawled, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

You fell to stand flat on your feet, nodding your head shyly. He chuckled, moving past you and effortlessly cleaning the frame.

You watched him for a moment, noticing the rise in his shirt that exposed the beginnings of his toned stomach. You watched the way his biceps flexed under his sleeves as his hand moved back and forth against the portrait. Your eyes drifted back to the wall, sitting with your legs crossed to clean a portrait closer to the floor.

“You don’t talk as much as Draco does,” George said suddenly, looking down at you from his position above you.

You didn’t respond, only giving him a quizzical expression.

“Every time I see him he’s ranting or complaining about something or other,” George continued, playfully smiling.

“Complaining is one of his hobbies,” you teased, smiling at the sound of George’s chuckle.

“So you’re his twin?” he asked, dropping his hand from the portrait and leaning against the wall again to look at you.

“Yeah,” you said, still focused on the portrait.

“You guys don’t seem too similar,” he said, furrowing his brows.

“Well, are you and Fred too similar?” you quipped, and he chuckled again.

“ ‘Spose we aren’t,” he said, turning back to the portrait, “good thing really. Gives me the opportunity to be the better one of us.”

You giggled at George’s joke, and stood from your spot on the floor.

He handed you the rag and you gave one last swipe to the portrait you just scrubbed. You placed your hands on your hips, looking down the hallway and admiring your work.

“Guess that’s it,” George said, twisting his brush in his fingers.

“Guess it is,” you said sheepishly.

You turned to walk back to Filch’s office, George trailing behind you.

Something about that little interaction made your spirits higher for an entire week. You didn’t know why, but the idea of making George Weasley laugh gave you some confidence that you lacked before. Your entire life at Hogwarts, people assumed you were like Draco. You fell in Draco’s shadow and people associated you with him and his mean tendencies. When you spoke with George, you knew he could relate to you. You knew he fell in Fred’s shadow some times, everyone knew that. Fred was the louder one, the one who usually had a girlfriend cheering for him at his Quidditch matches. George was quieter and thoughtful. You felt drawn to George.

You riding the coattails of that minor interaction with George was the only thing willing your legs to move towards the Quidditch pitch. Well, that and Draco’s firm grip on your shoulders making sure you didn’t turn and run away.

Draco had written to your mother after his first mention of Quidditch to you, and she sent you everything you needed with no hesitation. You gripped your new Firebolt in your shaky hands and tugged at the heavy pads wrapped around your forearms. Once you stood in front of the Ravenclaw team captain, you bent over slightly to adjust your knee pads. Draco’s hands left your shoulders.

“Good luck, you’re gonna do great.” he mumbled into your ear, glancing around to make sure no one else heard his kind words. He flashed you a thumbs up as he walked to the elevated grass near the goal posts, sitting down to watch.

You pulled your gloves on tighter, afraid they would fall off and affect your playing. You gulped as the captains eyes scanned you critically.

“Malfoy?” he asked, not hiding the surprise in his voice.

“Yes?” you squeaked, gripping your broom tighter.

“Oh,” he said, a pleasantly surprised look on his face, “nothing, just didn’t expect to see you here.”

You faked a smile at him, biting your tongue. You were already here, why not try to make a good impression?

You followed all the directions. The drills they had you do were nothing compared to what Draco and you used to do in the garden during the summer. You easily flew laps around everyone else, a combination of your impressive broom, and your skills alone.

The captain had reservations about you, eyeing Draco suspiciously as he cheered for you from the ground. However, after your third successful time catching the snitch, he didn’t care much about your last name.

He told you that you made the team a few days later, telling you when to show up for practice, and when the next game was. It was Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff, and your captain sounded quite confident about it. So did Draco.

“You’re going to kill them!” he said enthusiastically, not hiding any of his excitement as you two walked alone along bank of the Black Lake.

You giggled at his enthusiasm, unable to stop the confidence bubbling in your chest at the thought of you catching the snitch during your first Quidditch match.

“Well, it is Hufflepuff,” you joked, shoving his shoulder with yours, “I doubt they’ll put up too much of a fight.”

Draco made an ‘ooo’ noise, his shoulders jostling with laughter.

“Trash talking already? Before your first match?”

You smiled sheepishly, not often getting to talk this freely with anyone. You enjoyed your private talks with Draco. He didn’t have to put on a hard façade, and you didn’t have to put on a painfully nice one. You were both free to be yourselves, and you hoped one day you would have someone, who wasn’t your brother, to be yourself around.

You had gone over the plays tirelessly with your captain. You didn’t eat for three days, too nervous to find food appealing. You had to force down some eggs and toast before your match, just so you wouldn’t pass out.

You pulled at your gloves uncomfortably, fidgeting with every detail on your perfect broom just to make sure it was all in order. You stepped onto the field, hearing the roaring crowd. Everyone in the school was there; it was the first match of the year.

You felt your eggs and toast fighting their way up your throat, but you swallowed hard, willing them to stay put. Your chin shook with the intensity in which you clenched your jaw, eyes darting everywhere at once.

“You’ve got this,” your captain slapped you on the back, jolting you forward a bit. You stumbled, using your broom as support to catch yourself from falling on your face.

Once on the field, you hovered easily face to face with the Hufflepuff seeker. Your entire body was shaking with nerves, and just before the whistle was blown, you heard the entire Slytherin and Ravenclaw student section joined in chanting your name. Your first name.

You smiled widely, enjoying the change. You were being recognized for more than your last name, for more than your family crest. You weren’t the girl who bore a striking resemblance to the meanest boy in your grade, you were more than the Malfoy’s blonde hair and grey eyes. You were you. You were Y/n.

The game was over faster than it started. The chasers in blue had only scored four goals on the Hufflepuff's before you caught the snitch, diving down to the ground with your hands wrapped tightly around the little golden orb.

Lee Jordan screamed from his spot on the teacher’s balcony, and you thought it would have made the ears bleed of anyone within 100 feet of him. Your team huddled around you, lifting you from your feet and throwing you into the air. You never let go of the snitch, keeping it clutched in your hand until you spotted Draco strolling over to you on the field. You tapped the shoulder of your captain, and he told everyone to put you down. People jostled your shoulders, clasping your back and sending varied praises your way. You nearly felt like crying, you were so happy.

You ran to Draco, tossing your broom cautiously on the ground. You jumped into his chest, his unsuspecting hands still tucked into his pants pockets. He made a disgruntled noise, stumbling back as you wrapped your sweaty arms around his neck.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, your face a flushed pink.

“I know!” he screamed back, smiling at your enthusiasm.

“Let me see it,” he said, putting you on your feet and picking up your hand with his.

You let his palm hold yours, opening your fingers slowly. The snitch stayed put, resting still in your gloved hand. Draco’s mouth cracked into a smile, his pale face illuminating with happiness and pride. He was proud of his sister.

“I knew you would do it,” he said, wrapping his arms around your shoulders again and bringing you into a suffocating hug.

You trekked up the hill to the castle, blue surrounding you in a huddle. The only thing out of place was Draco’s all black suit he wore, but it didn’t matter. You walked side by side, and no one questioned his presence, because you just caught the snitch.

“Nice game,” you heard a voice from behind you, falling into step with you.

You looked to your left, seeing the tall frame of George Weasley. He wore a knit beanie over his ginger hair, and a sweater with his initial on it. You beamed at him, your cheeks still flushed from the excitement.

“Thanks,” you said, not taking your eyes off of him until he looked away, laughing.

“Who knew you had it in ya?” he joked, bumping his shoulder into yours.

“I did,” Draco mumbled from your other side. You turned to him, sending him a warning glance, and then looked back at George.

“Well, the Hufflepuff's certainly didn’t,” you said, referencing the way their seeker had barely even glanced at you when the game was starting.

George laughed again, and you felt your knees go a little weak. Who’s wouldn’t at the sight of an older and handsome boy laughing at a joke you made?

“Not looking forward when we have to go against Ravenclaw in a few weeks,” George said, an impressed and admiring look on his face, “you’ll definitely give Harry a run for his money.”

Draco snorted from beside you, and you sent a sharp elbow to his side. He groaned, moving a hand to nurse the spot. You kept your dazed eyes locked on Georges. George’s eyes flickered to a semi-hunched over Draco, his smile widening.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said, smirking at you.

You watched his long legs carry him away, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Don’t tell me you fancy a Wea-” Draco started, but you winded your elbow up as a warning and he stopped suddenly.

“Shut up,” you said, still watching the way George moved through the crowd as if he was untouchable.

It was in that moment that you felt normal. You didn’t feel ostracized or different. You felt like a normal teenager with a normal annoying brother, playing a normal sport, and having a normal schoolgirl crush. Your smile felt like it would never leave you that night.

And it didn’t, it only managed to grow larger. You felt two large hands clasp around your shoulders at breakfast. You were stuffing your face, finally finding food appealing again, and with cheeks filled with food you turned and locked eyes with the always handsome George Weasley.

You stopped chewing, food sitting docile in your mouth. Your eyes widened, and you brought a hurried hand to cover your mouth as you began to chew again, ducking your head slightly as George looked at you, amused.

“Just wanted to check and see how the post-win glory was treating you,” he said, straddling the bench next to you.

You swallowed hurriedly, taking a sip of water from your goblet to wash down the food. You smiled nervously at him.

“Well, I don’t feel too different,” you said, grinning.

He laughed, resting an elbow on the table and pushing his hair back slightly with his large hand. You gulped as you watched his biceps flex at the movement, admiring his strong jaw as his head turned into his hand.

“Really?” he teased, a crooked grin on his lips as he shamelessly looked you up and down.

“I got my appetite back,” you said, buttering up your third piece of toast and putting it on your plate, “couldn’t eat for days before the match.”

“Harry gets like that,’ George said casually, “Fred and Ron eat more than ever before a match.”

You giggled, and George smiled at the sight.

“What about you?” you asked him, meeting his brown eyes with your grey ones.

George seemed taken aback, like no one often asked about him.

“Oh,” he said, smiling shyly at you, “I don’t know. I guess I eat less before matches.”

You nodded your head, and George cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Alright,” he began to stand, looking down at you, “just wanted to check in on ya.”

“Thanks,” you said, blushing wildly as he sauntered back over to the Gryffindor table.

Practice only got harder and longer, and soon, you barely had any time to sleep. You managed to get most of your homework done in class, but you still had some extra assignments creeping up on you. You spent most of your nights on the pitch, and the evenings grew colder. Every night, though, you could glance to the green student section and see Draco huddled in some type of fur, watching you practice. He often brought his own homework up there with him, using it to pass the time when you weren’t doing anything particularly impressive.

Draco met you on the pitch as the moon illuminated the grass around you. You drank some water, sweating under your thick robes.

The two of you walked back to the castle, and Draco slid you a roll of parchment from his bag.

“What’s this?” you asked, unrolling the paper.

“It’s your potions essay,” he said, “I knew you’d forget to do it, so I took care of it for you.”

“Thank you,” you sighed out, feeling tremendously relieved at the thought of one less assignment to to, “I feel exhausted.”

“You look it,” Draco mumbled, and you hit his arm with the tightly rolled parchment.

You made it into the castle, the halls squeaking with the sound of your teammates walking to the Ravenclaw dorm. Draco followed you, the two of you breaking off from your team. He carried your parchment for you as you untied all the pads and equipment hugging your body.

“Both the Malfoy’s in one place? To what do I owe this pleasure?” you turned, seeing George Weasley slipping from behind a tapestry hanging on the wall.

“Where did you come from? Is there something behi-” Draco lifted the tapestry carefully, and while he moved, George replaced his spot next to you.

Draco felt the hard wall behind the tapestry and you watched him with a smirk on your face as his hands continued to inspect where George had managed to come from.

“Hello,” he said, bumping his shoulder into yours with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hi,” you said shyly, painfully aware of your wind-thrown hair and sweating face.

“What are you two up to?”

“He’s just walking me back to my dorm,” you said, still fiddling with one part of the pad on your arm that always gave you trouble.

“Well, I’m sure he needs his beauty sleep. Think I could manage getting you back safely?” George purred from beside you, speaking so Draco couldn’t hear him as you watched your brother hit his knuckles on the hard stone wall.

“Could you? Pretty big shoes to fill,” you joked, pointing at Draco’s fancy dress shoes that were obviously smaller than George’s.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead in those shoes,” George joked back, and at the sound of your loud giggle, Draco stopped looking at the wall.

“What’s so funny?” he snarled, sending a foe intimidating look at George.

“Draco,” you said sternly and warningly, “George is going to walk me to my dorm, you can go and get some rest.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at you, weighing his options. He could give up easily and leave you to a presumably awkward walk alone with George, or he could embarrass you a little. He chose the latter.

“Alone? Are you mental-”

“I swear to god Draco,” you cut him off, the sheer tone of your voice making his eyes widen a little in fear.

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, adjusting the tight sleeves of his dress shirt.

“Fine,” he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” he cast a glance at George, looking stern, “In one piece?”

George was smiling like a fool, suppressing a giggle at the interaction. Draco shoved your parchment into your chest, and you held onto it as he stalked off.

“Thank you, Draco! Love you!” you called after him in a sing-song and sisterly voice.

He waved his hand, back still towards you, and you and George laughed.

You two started walking again, falling easily into step with each other, You struggled holding your parchment without crushing it as you still worked on that one part of your arm padding.

“Do you need some help?” George asked from beside you, offering his hand out.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, handing him the parchment as the two of you began up the stairs.

He watched you for a moment, your delicate fingers struggling to untie a complicated knot.

“Here,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder to cease your walking.

You stopped, and he took a step down so he was on a lower level of the stairs. You were eye level, and his brown eyes bore into yours as he waited for you to hold your hand out. You did, and he crouched to place the scroll on the step next to him. He returned to your height, his strong fingers going to your arm.

He held your hand for a moment, pulling it to the side as he looked at the knot. His hand slid down your wrist, over the padding, and to the knot near your elbow. You kept your eyes on his hands, afraid that if you looked at his face you might explode.

“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling like your lips would crack and fall off if you said anything more.

“Of course, darling,” he whispered back, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You felt your legs tremble, your entire body seemed to have fireworks shooting through its veins. You did everything in your power not to throw your head back and start giggling manically.

Soon, the padding was looser on your arm, and George held it as it fell off. He gave it to you, placing it gently in your outstretched hand. You took it, holding it by some of the string at the top. He turned you by your shoulders so you stood directly facing him. You felt your throat close a little.

He was bending his knees suddenly, crouching at your feet. His face was by your hips, and you felt your face burn red at the close proximity. You felt his long fingers working on the knee pads you still had on. One of his warm hands lay flat against your shin for support, as the other pulled easily at the string holding your kneepad on. Your fingers tightened around the arm pads you were holding, and once again you were willing yourself not to let out some sort of desperate giggle.

He rose, meeting your eyes.

“All better,” he mumbled, his voice deep.

He held your knee pads for you with one hand, and the other held onto your parchment. You both stood for a moment on the stairs like that, face to face at the same height. If you took a slightly deeper breath, your chest would have expanded and brushed against George’s. You took shallow breaths.

“Let’s go,” he said, but made no effort to move. He sounded entranced and dazed, and you caught his eyes flicker to your lips. You licked them nervously, not realizing what you were doing until George’s eyes followed your tongue gliding against your mouth. You saw his adam’s apple bob in his throat, and your eyes widened a little.

You turned suddenly, going to take another step up the stairs. George’s strong hand wrapped around your wrist, steadying you as you stumbled back to the lower step. You nearly fell, but his strong chest was there to catch you. You were pulled against him and his arm wrapped around your lower waist. He looked at you for a second, and then pulled you down another step so you were on the same one as him. He bent his neck down, and you tilted your head up, your lips meeting in the middle.

One of his hands moved to wrap around the back of your neck, willing your face closer to his as if there was any space between you two. You heard the clatter of you knee pads as he set them aside a few feet away, and you dropped the arm pads you were holding. Your hands slid to rest on his chest, feeling the soft material of his sweater beneath your cold fingers. You pressed a little against him, his toned chest not that far from your touch. He smirked as you ran your nails down from his collar bones to dangerously close to the top of his belt. You pulled away, resting your forehead on his. You both breathed deeply, lips parted.

“Draco’s gonna kill me,” you whispered with a small smile.

“You’re thinking about your brother right now?” George joked back, tucking a piece of your blonde hair behind your ear.

“Should I be thinking about your brother?”

George pulled away from you completely, his hearty laugh filling the small staircase you were in. You laughed too, picking up your padding.

George held the padding and your parchment in one hand, and you held both of your arm pads in one hand. He slipped his hand into yours, and the two of you walked up the stairs.

As you went, neither of you felt like you were in the shadow. George was his own person apart from Fred, with his own interests and his own jokes. You weren’t the brooding Malfoy, you were the girl who laughed and kissed boys in stairwells.

#george weasley #george #weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley x ravenclaw #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley x ravenclaw reader #george weasley x malfoy #malfoy twin #brother!draco

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bts-weverse-trans · 4 years ago

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201124 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - J-Hope

j-hope: “Even just one, single love is beautiful, but we’re getting love from all over the world” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.24

On April 28, j-hope streamed a Log ( ON ) video of his dance warm-up on BTS’s YouTube channel, BANGTANTV. Over the course of an hour and four minutes, he stretches out his whole body, gradually advances from small motions up to big movements, and demonstrates more of his other techniques. And he didn’t leave out his cooldown exercise, either. This has been j-hope’s life as a BTS member for the past seven years.

A whole lot happened this year. j-hope: Like I said in another interview, it’s been a roller coaster of a year. It started out with our performance at the Grammys, which was really, really, great, and then Map of the Soul: 7 came out, which was great, too, and then it plummeted. With COVID-19 happening, I did a lot of thinking, did some studying, then everyone met “Dynamite” and we had some great results. And the ride repeated. Roller coasters are scary, but you keep thinking about them even after you get off. That’s how I felt about this year: it was scary, but memorable.

One of those memorable things must be how “Dynamite” topped the Billboard Hot 100 but you never had a chance to actually go to the U.S. j-hope: So when we got first place, we couldn’t even check the charts. We were asleep. We checked when we woke up, and there we were, at the top. But then we went straight to work. (laughs) We had to film something here in Korea. It was hard to enjoy ourselves, the whole situation being what it was, but it was all right because we could still enjoy it together.

You must have had a lot on your mind, making BE during this kind of year. j-hope: I tend to think of BTS albums as being a reflection of the whole team, but this time I thought of it as putting in the stories I wanted to tell, making it my music and infusing myself into the new album while still being a BTS album. It turned out to be right at home with BTS’s color, and the whole team’s energy led to an even bigger synergy.

What made you think to go in that direction? j-hope: We started this album off by getting together and asking what kind of story we wanted to tell. The end result of that conversation was, “Well, hey, we still have to live with this situation; we can’t give up.” And from there, “Life Goes On” was born, and then we got to work on the stories we each wanted to tell. I think it sounds more raw, since we tried to capture the emotions we felt living through the pandemic.

I imagine you each had a lot of songs you wanted to include, and that your opinions were probably all a bit different. How did you compromise on the final product? j-hope: None of us made any kind of plan. We’d listen to a track and someone would ask, “Hey, anybody wanna give this a try?” and someone else would say, “Me! I’ll do it.” We just did it that way. There were clashes, too. When each person starts to speak louder, it’s hard to find a common ground. But we’ve always been good at communicating with one another, and we know when to back down or be gracious, so everything went smoothly including planning for the unit songs.

How did each of you choose your songs? You put “Dis-ease” on the album. j-hope: There’s one song where we were working in the studio and someone said, “That track wasn’t very good, was it? Jung Kook’s one before was better” and we’d switch on the spot. The song would be done recording and we talked to the label and ended up switching it out. We listened to it all together and said, “What about this?” And that’s how we decided. So then “Life Goes On” was done, and I wasn’t sure if “Dis-ease” would be on the album. We gave the seven songs from each member to Jimin, who was project manager, and he suggested we listen to them first and then get feedback from people inside the company. I think it was one of the stories each member could feel was his own.”

Where did you get the idea for the theme of “Dis-ease”? j-hope: First, I wanted to get into the mindset that this song is a sickness. When I make a song, I work on the chorus first, and then move onto the first verse. When I had only finished the chorus the song felt upbeat, but I thought the overall theme shouldn’t be too playful. That wouldn’t reflect how I felt. But while the theme of “Dis-ease” itself isn’t very light, when it fuses with the beat, it feels as if the song is trying to get over itself and stay positive. So I threw some scratching into the chorus and put in some “bbyap bbyap bbayp” and then started to think, “Aha! I’d better call this song ‘Dis-ease.’ ”

I didn’t expect you to write a song portraying your love–hate relationship with your work as a disease. A lot of people would expect you to have a positive, hopeful attitude, given your name. j-hope: I was too busy to ever give much thought about the work itself. But, as you know, that suddenly changed, and there was a lot we could no longer do. When I was working, I’d say, “Ugh, I need a break,” but then we took time off and the words, “Ugh, I want to work,” jumped out of my mouth! That’s what made me think more closely: “Why is this bothering me? I have a chance to rest—just take it. Why do I feel like I need to work under these circumstances? Is this an occupational disease?” I felt like this was a part of me that I could express at this point in time.

This is the first time in your lyrics I’ve heard how hard you push yourself to be successful. It made me wonder about the burden you felt about work over the past seven years. j-hope: Out of habit, I would say, “I’m okay; I have hope,” and keep working, but I think I was just avoiding my work-related problems rather than facing them head on. The nice thing about music is that I can say what’s on my mind, even feeling of sadness or depression, in beautiful ways. I don’t usually express those feelings but this time I wanted to try.

It sounds like you have lots of different thoughts about work. j-hope: With my work? Well, actually, I’m not sure. Work is kind of an ugly duckling. Work gives me good energy but there’s energy you get from resting. But someone like me feels alive when they’re working, so I need to keep moving and keep doing. I feel anxious when I stop and content when I go. Every once in a while I don’t want to work, but I can’t not work.

You’re saying you and work go well together? j-hope: Exactly. It’s easier just to think simple. If you think too hard, that’s when things get difficult. Because I’m me, I can’t just keep it simple all the time, but I’m trying my hardest to do my best.

Thinking simple isn’t always so simple. j-hope: Yeah. Maybe it’s because I don’t have many problems to deal with. I feel uncertainty because of that. Uncertain about how my identity will be affected if I do encounter some great hardship.

BTS has faced a lot of hardship, though, right? j-hope: That is also true. (laughs) But the team wouldn’t have kept going if it’d just been me cheering ourselves on. We’re possible because we all think the same way. I wonder if we would’ve been able to come this far if it was just me saying, “Let’s go, guys!” That’s why I’m even more thankful to the other members.

What do those emotional changes affect your music? j-hope: I didn’t want to make an overly cheery song this time. I thought it would be best to do some softer songs about the way I was feeling this whole time, so I chose “Dis-ease” as well as “Fly to My Room.” The other members also thought, “Yeah, we’ve done a lot of bright songs, so it should be fine if we try it this way, too.” “Blue & Grey” is like that, too. I love that song.

You have a completely different voice when you rap on “Blue & Grey.” Did your rap style also change, along with your emotions? j-hope: I wanted “Blue & Grey” to sound like I was talking, actually. The tone and feel of my voice changes a lot depending on how I vocalize my rap. I noticed that a lot this time. Namjoon actually helped me a ton. His part was after mine, so I turned to him and said, “Maybe it would sound better if I did it like this,” and tried it out. Then I used his advice and found the right sound.

How does it feel moving away from your normal style? j-hope: It’s really refreshing. I thought it wouldn’t work but I think it did after all. And I always thought this was a feel that I wanted to give it a try. For me, BE is sort of like the first step down an unfamiliar path, so there were parts that were challenging, and also parts that were a welcome change.

I think your rap in “Dis-ease” demonstrates that change well. Instead of trying to keep time in the intro, your flow just follows the story. j-hope: I made sure not to overthink anything this time. It ended up sounding natural because I just matched the rhythm of the words as they left my mouth. And it was refreshing because I haven’t done a long verse like in “Dis-ease” in forever. When we rap, there tend to be four or eight-ish lines; I thought I’d try and pack in a verse with sixteen. It also helped because the lyrics came out before many of the other things for this song.

The music makes “Dis-ease” sound upbeat, but then there’s a surprising message: “To be honest, I have this problem.” It’s like you were holding yourself back from crossing a line. j-hope: It was something like that. Shouldn't we stay on this line? Maybe that’s a disease too (laughs). I thought if j-hope leaned too much to one side people might think that’s strange, too. That’s why I tried to stick to my standards, but since I’m also human I also expressed emotions I couldn’t articulate into music.

You don’t want to try and cross that line? j-hope: I’ve thought about it, obviously. I want to, but in my life itself and in my mind, I always think if there’s a line, it shouldn’t be crossed. But I’m becoming more generous to myself about crossing lines when it comes to music.

So you haven’t crossed yet, but right now you want to say, “I have something else,” and go further. j-hope: Yes. This is maybe a time when I really need to. I’ve been lucky because I met great people, had success and reached where I am now. Now that I’m here, I always want to try new things myself and keep growing. That’s why I’m working hard and thinking about what kind of music I should make.

There’s a part in “Fly to My Room” where you sing, “You can change the way you think.” It’s like you were explaining the past seven years of your life. j-hope: It all depends on how you look at it. Say there’s some kind of food. You might feel lonely while eating it by yourself, but if you forget about your loneliness for a minute and think, “There is no difference in food I would be eating out (with other people) anyway,” then it’s just like eating out. So even though I was stuck feeling lonely at home, I started to think of it as another trip instead. I thought of my room as my world, and delivery food as a three-star hotel meal. As you can tell from the title, I worked on that song by thinking about the way I endured this year so far.

And why did you decide to “change the way you think?” j-hope: Because I get a lot of love. Because I’m in this position and in this place, there’s things I have to deal with, and I should do things and think things I am able to bear. I thought about that a lot and accepted it. So I thought about what I could do during these hard times, and how I could help out my friends, my team. I think I’m still going through that process, too, so everything’s an “-ing”, because I might need to know what to do later about what I can do, even if I don’t quite know it yet.

What effect does being surrounded by so much love have on you? j-hope: It’s amazing to be loved by even one person. Even just one, single love is beautiful, but we’re getting love from all over the world. And I know this isn’t something to take for granted. I’m so incredibly thankful that sometimes I feel overwhelmed just thinking, ‘Wow, how can I ever return this much love?’ I want to express that in any way possible, every moment I can, because I’m so honored to be so loved that I can’t begin to put it into words.

A little while ago, in an interview with Rolling Stone India, you said that, when you were young, you equated debuting with success. What does success mean to you now, now that you’ve had success after success? j-hope: Success … It’s a simple idea, but it can weigh on you. In all aspects of life, I think success means being satisfied with what you’re able to do.When you lose faith in your work and it starts becoming a chore, that’s when it starts to get depressing.

There are inevitably times when you can’t enjoy it. j-hope: It’s just, you know, it’s really simple. If you can’t do it now, you can always do it later. Do that, and you can put your mind at ease. And I think that’s the secret to living a long, happy life. Anything you can’t do in your 20s, you can just do in your 40s. Of course, there’s going to be stuff you should do now while you’re still (laughs) energetic. But if that’s the position you’re in right now, you just have to ride it out. Try again later if you can’t enjoy yourself now. You’ll probably feel different in the future anyway. Yeah, that was pretty much the key to my self-preservation.

Where do you find the strength to hold on like that? j-hope: From the group, it’s very clear what that is. It’s our fans. ARMY. We had to pull through, for the fans. At any time of any day, the fans come first. I keep thinking about how painful it would be for the fans if we just gloss over something or feel like giving up just because we’re having a hard time. I was 20 when we made our debut. I didn’t know much about having a social life, but the messages our fans sent were a big comfort and gave us hope. I learned a lot just by reading fan letters and understanding the kind of thoughts they had. Fans and artists really are one and the same.

That makes me think of a line from “Life Goes On”: “People say the world has changed but thankfully between you and me, nothing has changed.” j-hope: Yes, right. I thought that line expressed the feeling really well as soon as I first heard it. Yoongi wrote that. He is really good. (laughs) I think that describes our relationship with our fans.

Trans © Weverse

#bangtan #hoseok #weverse #weverse magazine #be album #comeback interview #201124 #2020

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king-paimon · 4 years ago

Text

HnK Chapter 95 Thoughts: The cruelest chapter of all times

AKA: The chapter everyone hated

AKA: No happy ending in sight

AKA: Haruko Ichikawa is a monster

AKA: I called it again (and I wish I was wrong)

AKA: Talk about kicking someone while they’re down

Ms. Haruko Ichikawa. You’ve truly done it. You truly are a cruel, sadistic, trolling monster. You leave us with this chapter? This chapter that truly shows us that despite every hardship they faced, Phos gets nothing. This chapter shows that Phos was destined to be in constant misery, and to rub that in with literally everyone else is free and happy? And to add more salt to the wound, you’re leaving us on an hiatus for who knows how long??

This is without a doubt the cruelest chapter to leave us on and this is probably one of the cruelest things a mangaka can ever do for a series as intense as this. I wish the previous chapter was the last one for the end of this year because at least with that one, it would have given us some sense of something.

Man. I’m both horrified and amazed by you, Ms. Ichikawa. I’m not even being sarcastic, I’m truly in awe.

Ugh.

As you can see, I have several things I have to say about this and... Just wow. This chapter. In these posts, I try my best to try and write my thoughts with the most rational mindset but... I don’t know how well I’ll be able to do that with this chapter. What a way to end this horrible year.

But with this chapter’s ending and the implication for what is yet to come... this marks as the story’s descend to it’s bitter end, and I now wish I didn’t make that prediction last month.

I know I said in another post that I was going to write this in a few days, but I changed my mind. I’m getting this out now while my thoughts are still fresh in my mind. Please don’t mind the writing errors, I’m very tired, I’m writing this at 3 in the morning and I need to sleep. I promise I will come back to this and tidy it up later.

Anyways, here we go:

Haruko Ichikawa: Manipulator of emotions

Ms. Ichikawa really toyed with us with this chapter. So many things happened in such a short amount of time and I’m trying to process it. Also, doesn’t feel like too much happened in this chapter? Especially in comparison to the previous chapters, where everything was stretched out, to then have this chapter have so many things happen all at once. This chapter, in many ways, feels very rushed... and this style of story telling has me very worried about what’ll happen from here on out. I’ll talk more about what I mean by this later, but for now, let’s focus on the story of this chapter:

So... Antarctictite is back now. Adamant is back, too. So are most of destroyed gems, both the ones we knew and the ones we never got meet. And they are all now Lunarians... Hm.

I don’t like this or anything in this chapter for many reasons. In fact, I’ll go as far to say that I don’t like where the whole story is headed for these same reasons:

The first reason: The emotional turmoil from the previous chapters

For the past 10 or so chapters, I’d been anticipating the destruction of the gems and Adamant. I was one of the people who didn’t like the idea of it happening, though I knew they kind of deserve it. And I remember how sad I was seeing Adamant turn to nothing but dust and seeing how everything was affecting Phos after the bloodlust ceased.

But it all led up to...this. In the very next chapter, after watching those heart wrenching scenes of the gems being broken down and Adamant’s last moments with Phos...we see him and the other gems being brought back like it was nothing. And on top of that, they are totally happy Lunarians now. Yeah. Okay.

So it feels like the emotional tole that I felt for these characters I didn’t want to see get destroyed...meant nothing. Not going to lie: I kind of wish you all stayed destroyed.

And you know what? It’s kind of funny. In my Chapter 94 post, I said I was sad that we didn’t get to see Adamant and Aechmea interact and I didn’t think there would be a way now that Adamant is dust. Well. I was wrong. It happened. I got the interaction that wanted. Wasn’t worth it.

So to sum up this first reason: The emotional turmoil that I personally experienced watching the characters I like get destroyed... meant nothing in the end.

Now I don’t know how to feel about these characters. It sucks. I even had a post that I was starting write about on a certain controversial character that I couldn’t bring myself to hate, despite everything, but I’m now debating whether or not I should still write it. I think I will, but there will be a lot of edits.

The second reason: Negation of personal growth

One of the things that has been brought up many times by fans is about how the gems dealt with problems. Instead of trying to address the problem and talk to try to fix it, they chose to ignore it and sweep it under the rug, no matter how upsetting it is to the characters involved. All of the gems, both Earth and Moon, constantly choose to not confront the issue and stay blissfully ignorant.

And now that they’re accepting to be Lunarians, it feels like they’re just running away again. Instead of confronting the Lunarians or having the gems properly talking with each other about how things got to the point where they had to once fight each other, they are like: Oh, we can be Lunarians so we don’t have to fight with them anymore? Awesome. Let’s do it.

Everyone is once again going with the flow, just sweeping the glaring issues that they all carried for so long, and are just accepting the new reality that they are in with no problems whatsoever. No addressing of anything means no character growth for all of them. No one grew from this experience. No one learned that ignoring the problems doesn’t solve them. They aren’t solving their previous issues, they are masking it under the belief that becoming Lunarian automatically solves all of their problems.

No talking between Diamond or Bort. No talking with Yellow about their traumas or any of the other gems in the same boat. And no talking about how everything that happened lead to Phos doing what they did. It’s even more disappointing how Antarcticite was the only one who showed any concern about Phos or even thought to bring them up in the first place.

Edit: Also to add, the other problem here is how the are conscious choosing to remove your identity. They are not only choosing to loose their identity as gems, but they are fine loosing their memories as well. Not to mention how Cairngorm is once again being given a new identity to go by, from Aechmea, and is totally fine with it. That scene was small but once again, the fact that they are fine pretty much erasing what made them who they are is...unnerving.

So pretty much to sum up this: Once again, everything meant nothing in the end.

Speaking of Phos...

The third reason: Phos’s miserable fate

Phos, once again, got the short end of the stick. After everything that they’ve done, from trying to save everyone but themselves, to doing what was once seen as cruel for the sake of everyone to finally do something for themselves to go back to wanting to save the others after the bloodlust was gone... to get this ending for themselves.

But wow, what a cruel twist: Phos’s old goal was fulfilled. Thanks to them, the gems don’t have to live in fear of being destroyed or taken or anything. Thanks to Phos, everyone is free. Everyone now is going to be happy for the rest of their existance...at the cost of Phos’s expense.

Phos lost everything.

Their body.

Their sanity.

Their identity.

Everything.

What do they get in return?

10,000 years of nothing but their own miserable existence and dark, depressing thoughts.

In the end, everything that Phos experienced not only sent them crashing down to rock bottom: it sent him to the chore of the earth, back out the other side, then back into the earth, in an endless cycle of just constant misery.

That’s a theme in buddhism, if that’s what I’m recalling right from @rinboz‘s posts: a cycle of continuous misery. That is clearly embodied here through Phos and Phos will continue to suffer the pain of existing while everyone else got what they wanted in the end, especially Aechmea.

Speaking of which, I also genuinely want to know if there’s still fans out there who view Aechmea as a good guy for ‘liberating’ Phos, because as far as I see, thanks to him, Phos is now stuck in an even more miserable form of existence. At least before everything, everyone was miserable together with Phos. Sort of. Still better than what we got with this chapter, in my opinion. (Please do share your thoughts, if you do. I promise, this is not an attack. I’m just interested to hear your thoughts, if you’re willing to share)

But now, there’s no there for Phos. And unlike those other instances where Phos was in a situation and someone somewhat saves them like Adamant and Padparadscha once did before, there’s no one there. So unless there’s some Admirabilis hiding around there or if the Gem/lunarians decide to come to them, which I doubt will happen, there’s no one for Phos. No one is coming to help/save them.

Phos will have to suffer all alone. For 10,000 years. Phos is the last existing gem being now...even though technically, they aren’t really a gem anymore.

Once again, to sum up why I don’t like this chapter nor how the story has progressed: Phos’s suffering meant nothing to them in the end. That’s the other theme I’m trying to hammer in in this post: Everything meant nothing in the end.

I’ve already seen a few fans react to the chapter and I saw one state that if the Lunarians, including the gems, were to come to Phos to pray for them, the poster hopes Phos tells them to “F* off” And you know what, I hope so too. But this revelation has me fearing for what’s going to happen the series, or more specifically, how and when it’ll officially end.

No true happy ending in sight and not exactly for the reasons you think

As always, it’s hard to predict how Ms. Ichikawa is going to end this series. Us fans made many predictions and a good number of them came true, but it’s the ending that eludes us. Some hope for a happy ending for Phos, while many, including myself, predict that it’ll be anything but happy. And now, with this chapter...I think it’s set in stone now.

Last month, in response to someone asking me how I think the series might end, I made a few small predictions. Some for a good ending, a bittersweet ending, and a bad ending....

...and it looks like that first sad ending is where the series is heading after all:

Everyone is gone/moved on and Phos stays behind as a lonely, immortal being.

Even though this small prediction was correct, how it’s all playing out was not exactly how I’d envisioned. It’s worse. And what’s making me even more worried is that based off of where the story is headed, my gut feelings are saying that the series ending is near. And it won’t be to anyone’s satisfaction.

Whenever I get invested in a series, other than worrying about how the creators will handle their characters and story, one of my biggest worries is about how the creators handle their ending. I’m truly afraid about what Ms. Ichikawa is planning for this series because I can’t help but fear it’s not going to end well. It’s not the worry that the series will have a sad/bittersweet ending, even though that concern is still there though I’ve accepted the likelihood, but rather I’m worried that the next chapter or so will be the abrupt end to this series. This concern is because of how rushed this chapter felt and I can’t help but worry that Ms. Ichikawa is now rushing to the end of the story. And to be honest, the addition fact that Ms. Ichikawa is going on hiatus is not helping these uneasy feelings.

I hate being the pessimistic one but what if this happens? What if Ms. Ichikawa decides to end the series here or in the next chapter? What if the next chapter is literally another time skip, with all of the characters that I once cared about just NOT progressing, and Phos continuously being stuck in this immortal and we’re expected to accept this as the ending. Because other than Phos, everyone’s story, from what it looks like, is at their end now. I really hope that doesn’t happen. I’ve seen great series end so terribly too often and I’ve loved this story for so long that I hope that doesn’t happen with this series too. I love this series a lot and it’s characters, even the ones who I don’t think I like as much as I did after this chapter. I hope the series will end nicely... but I don’t think it will.

Back to predictions on how the story will progress: I made a post a few days ago about how I hope the forgotten plot elements will come into play and the fact that Aechmea isn’t omnipresent. More than ever, part of me hopes those elements will come back and have a positive impact for Phos’s story, especially the omnipresent part. But again, I don’t think I’ll hope too much for it because looking at Ms. Ichikawa’s past works... I don’t think they will, at least not in the way I’m hoping for.

Maybe I’m too used to Western (American/European) stories, where the protagonist somehow beats the odds and wins in the end. This isn’t always the case for Eastern stories, especially stories from Japan. They usually end bittersweet and I don’t think Houseki no Kuni will be the exception. I know I’ve said this saying many times before and with each passing chapter, these words become more and more true:

Phos’s suffering is never going to end.

And unless someone does something to change the course of the story, which I don’t think will ever happen now, Phos is never going to have a happy ending.

If I could wish for anything, it’d be that this story ends on a satisfying note. I know, I know. It’s foolish to still hope for that it’ll happen, given everything I’ve seen from Ms. Ichikawa before...But still. I don’t want to lose all of the hope that I have left for this series. Even though that hope is nearly diminished, it’s still there.

So please, Ms. Ichikawa. Please give us a satisfying ending for Phos. Please let them go. If anyone deserves a dignifying conclusion to their story, it’s them. Let them rest. End their suffering. Please give them the ending they deserve after everything they went through.

You’ll likely won’t though.

Because this is Phos.

And to be Phos is to constantly suffer.

Well, regardless, I truly hope you’re hiatus goes well, Ms. Ichikawa. Even though you are a cruel troll, your work is still amazing and I applaud you for your story telling and your love to mess with us. I hope you enjoy your time away and when you return, I hope that you’ll continue to give us amazing content and eventually give Phos the ending they deserve. Please. That’s all I want.

I hope you all a nice holiday season, too, or at least try to.

Happy Holidays.

Can’t wait for 2020 to end.

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americasass91 · 4 years ago

Text

Healing Ransom

Hello beautiful people!! This will be my first (I’m sure of many) submissions for @drabblewithfrannybarnes amazing Autumn Challenge! Fall is my favorite time of the year! It’s got beautiful colors! Pumpkin everything! And Halloween? You just can’t beat it! I hope you enjoy this little story. It stars our one and only Mean Sweater Murder Daddy, Ransom!

Verbal Prompts:

“Please don’t be sad for me.”

“Shove it, satan.”

Location/activity prompts:

Walking through a park with leaves

Jumping in/raking leaves

Words: 3.8k

Rating: Explicit(of course it is😋)

Warnings: smut, Ransom being his usual dickish self, slight angst, death of minor character, funerals, sadness, language

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You had only been asleep for about an hour and a half when you were abruptly woken up by a cell phone vibrating loudly.

You open one eye and look towards the nightstand your phone is on. It’s silent. That means it’s his phone.

You smack your fuck buddy on the back of the head. “Ow, Y/N what the actual fuck?”

You turn over and pull the covers higher up on your naked body. “Your phone’s ringing asshole.”

He mumbles something under his breath you don’t quite catch as he reaches for his phone. “It’s Linda. Ugh she’s probably drunk again and calling to tell me how worthless I am. Fuck her.”

He throws the phone down on the bed and gets comfortable. “And why are you still here? You know how I feel about you spending the night.”

You raise your hand and flip him off. “You’re the one that fucked me into submission. I can’t help it that I fell asleep right after. Don’t worry, your highness, I’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning.”

He’s about to reply when his phone starts vibrating right against your ass. You shriek and sit up and grab the phone.

Before Ransom even comprehends that you have it, you answer.

“Hello, Linda. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to Ransom please.” She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears.

You hand the phone to Ransom who looks at you incredulously. “Just take it. She sounds upset.”

He just rolls his eyes and snatches the phone from you. “Mother, why in the fuck are you calling me at 3 in the morning?”

You’re not entirely sure what she’s saying but Ransom went from being annoyed to showing no emotion on his face.

“When?...Who found him?...Okay..well, thanks for letting me know.” He hangs up and throws the phone back onto the nightstand.

He’s silent for a few minutes. He looks over at your questioning stare.

“My father died. Heart attack. His maid found him. Guess he’d been there for awhile.”

You immediately go to pull him into a hug. “Oh, Ransom. I’m so sorry.”

He pushes you away. “Please don’t be sad for me. He was a piece of shit who smoked like a chimney and never took care of himself. It was just a matter of time before something liked this happened.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “But he was your dad, Ransom. It’s okay to be sad about it.” You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.

He grabs your hand and yanks you onto his lap. “I’m not sad. I don’t actually feel anything. It’s not like we had any kind of a relationship. Now how about since we’re both awake we go for round 5?”

You just roll your eyes and let him take your body to euphoria once more.

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That following Saturday you wake up to the sight of beautiful changing leaves. God you love Fall. It was the best time of the year in your opinion. Pumpkin everything? Yes please! Halloween? Oh, fuck yeah! Your favorite holiday.

You decide you can’t let this beauty go to waste. You throw back the covers and quickly dress in some leggings and a burgundy sweater you’re pretty sure belongs to Ransom.

You can’t help but admire all the beautiful Fall colors as you begin your walk. You don’t even need music right now. You feel so at peace during this particular morning. All the beautiful colors. The slight chill in the air. The smell of cider someone is selling from a cart up the way. You’re definitely going to have to get some of that.

You spot a pile of leaves on your way to the cart and you have the strongest urge to run and jump in them. You stop walking and look around. You’re alone. Fuck it.

You take off and giggle like a little girl again as you launch yourself at the pile of leaves. You lose yourself in them. Forgetting everything for a moment and just enjoying the freeing feeling. You’re enjoying it so much you almost miss your phone vibrating in your pocket.

You sit up and fish it out to see who’s interrupting your childlike moment. Ransom. You roll your eyes. The only time he calls you is when he wants sex. You’re just going to have to tell him you’re too busy at the moment.

You answer and put the phone to your ear as you lay back amongst the leaves. “Ransom, I cannot come over for some fuckery right now. I’m in my happy place.”

“Y/N. Hey. That’s not why I’m calling. Linda just called to let me know the funeral is tomorrow. I was wondering if you’d go with me?”

He doesn’t sound like himself. Sad almost. “Sure, Ran. Of course I’ll be there. Just let me know what time.”

“Visitation is from 2-4. The funeral starts right after. Then of course we’ll go bury him. Sorry your whole day will be full. I know how much you love your weekends.”

You shake your head and wave your hand in the air as if he can see it. “Ransom, don’t worry about that. This is more important. And besides, Monday is Columbus Day so I have an extra day off.”

“So that means you’ll be able to spend the night with me tomorrow night?”

You feel butterflies in your stomach. He’s never asked you to spend the night.

“Well, sure if that’s what you want.”

“Thanks, I’ll need to fuck all of my frustrations out from being around my family all day.”

Ah, there’s the ulterior motive. You feel your heart sink a little. “Yeah, sure. How about I’ll just come to your place tomorrow around 1 and we can head over to the funeral together?”

“Sure, sure. Look I have to go. I have to try to get this chapter written today. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course. Good luck with the chapter.”

“Oh and Y/N? Have fun playing in the leaves.”

With that he hangs up. You look around to make sure he’s nowhere around. How did he know you were in a pile of leaves?

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You head into the funeral with Ransom at around 1:45. Despite everything you can’t help but notice he looks handsome in his dark blue suit.

“God I hate funerals.” He says as he gazes around the room. He spots Linda.

“Well, who likes them?” You ask him as she approaches.

She throws her arms around Ransom’s neck. He reluctantly returns the hug.

“Oh, Ransom! I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

Ransom just rolls his eyes as he looks at you. He mouths ‘Help me’

You put your hand on Linda’s back. “Oh, Linda. I’m so sorry he’s gone.”

She lets go of Ransom and turns towards you. “Thank you dear. Even though he wasn’t my husband anymore I still loved him. A part of me always will.”

You glance over at Ransom who’s trying to avoid Walt that just walked in. You can’t help but know how she feels about loving someone like that. You love Ransom no matter what the 2 of you are. You think you always will.

You nod your head. “Of course you will. He was a big part of your life. And he’s Ransom's dad. He’ll always have a special place in your heart.”

She pulls you in for a hug. When she pulls back she cups your cheek. “I’m well aware that you’re too good for my son. But please don’t leave him. He can’t do any better than you.”

With that she heads over to greet more people filing in. You stand there shocked at her words. Linda has never been unpleasant towards you but that was the nicest damn thing she’s ever said to you.

You spot Ransom leaning against the opposite wall as far away from the other people as he can get.

You head over and stop in front of him with your arms crossed. “Ransom, aren’t you supposed to be talking to your family? Letting people give their condolences.”

“Fuck these people, Y/N. None of them gave a shit about Richard. I bet half of the women in this room fucked him at one point.”

You look around wide eyed to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Luckily they weren’t. “Jesus, Ransom be quiet! This is a funeral. And unlike you, some people are here to grieve!”

“Whatever, Y/N! You’re such a bitch. You didn’t like him either! You always called him a creep! So don’t stand there and act live you give a shit that he’s dead!”

Your mouth drops open. God he’s such an asshole! “You know what, fuck you Ransom! I do give a shit! Just because I thought he was a creep doesn’t mean I wanted him to die! I understand you’re grieving right now but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit. Maybe you should find somebody else to fuck out your frustrations on!”

By now the whole room is looking at you 2. You didn’t mean to be so loud but god dammit did he piss you off.

“You know what, Y/N? Maybe I will! Fuck off!”

He pushes away from the wall and stomps towards the door. “SHOVE IT, SATAN!” You can’t help but yell after him. You then take a look around the room and see everyone staring at you. “Sorry about that.” You quickly leave the room and head towards the kitchen area. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn around and see Meg following you.

“Y/N? Are you okay? God he is such a piece of shit.” She pulls you in for a hug,

You return it gratefully. “Thanks but I’m just worried about Linda. She’s already upset and I am certainly not making things any easier.”

She scoffs as she pulls away from you. “Oh, please! She was chuckling when you called him satan. Said it was an accurate name for him.”

You smile at her feeling relieved. “That’s good then. How are you holding up?”

She returns your smile. “I’m okay. Uncle Richard and I didn’t have a close relationship but I’ll still miss our debates we had.”

You nod in understanding. “I guess I should go find satan.”

Before you have a chance to leave the kitchen, Ransom comes in. He comes over and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t want to be here and I’m sick of these people pretending to grieve when I know they don’t care and I took my anger out on you. You were nice enough to be here with me today, you don’t deserve how I treated you.”

Your heart skips a beat. He never apologizes for anything. You pull away from the hug and cup his cheek. “It’s okay. Apology accepted. You get a free pass today. Now how about we head back in?”

He grabs your wrist and places a kiss on your palm. “Okay, will you stay by me?”

You pull him in for a quick peck. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”

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The funeral was tastefully done. Ransom refused to ride over in the limo with the rest of the family. He said he wanted to drive over with you.

You pull into the cemetery and get out of the car. You look around for the gravesite. You don’t see one. “Ran, where’s the gravesite?”

Ransom just chuckles and points at the hill. “On the top of the hill. He wanted to be buried in the most expensive spot.”

You look down at your black pumps and then over at the slightly muddy hill. Well this should be fun.

Ransom sees your hesitation. “There’s a brick pathway. Your shoes are safe.”

You sigh in relief. Thank god. You follow the crowd that has now gathered toward the path. Ransom follows in step beside you. He grabs your hand and laces your fingers together. You feel those stupid butterflies in your stomach again.

You can’t help but admire the beautiful fall foliage. It puts a smile on your face despite the sad day.

Ransom rolls his eyes playfully at you. “You and your Fall.”

“It’s beautiful, Ransom! How can you not love it?”

You’re too busy looking at all the leaves to notice him staring at you. “Yeah, it is beautiful.”

You reach the gravesite and stand with Ransom near the front. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. If anything he’s holding onto it tighter.

You can’t help but let some tears fall as the minister says some more beautiful words. You chance a glance at Ransom and you see him wipe a single tear from his face. That makes you give his hand a reaffirming squeeze.

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Ransom wasn’t lying when he said he was going to fuck out his frustrations on you. He took you right against the wall as soon as you walked into his house. Then again on the island in the kitchen. And again on the stairs. (You’re sure to have bruises from that escapade). Finally finishing in his bed. You passed out almost right after the last one.

You woke up around 2 am with the urge to pee. You look over and see Ransom’s side of the bed empty. He must be downstairs rehydrating after all that fucking. You decide to quickly pee and then head down to find him.

He’s not in the kitchen like you thought. You’re about to go check his study to see if he’s up writing when you see a light on in the living room. You head in and see him sitting on the couch. His back is to you so he hasn’t realized you’re in the room yet. There’s something sitting on his coffee table. You move forward quietly trying not to disturb him in case he wants to be alone.

When you get close enough you see that it’s a framed picture of him and his dad. Ransom can’t be older than 16. They have their arms around each other’s shoulders. His prized Beemer is in the background with a big red bow on top.

That’s when you hear the sniffling. You quickly round the couch and see that Ransom is clutching a pillow and sobbing into it. You take a seat next to him. You put a comforting hand on his back and rub it up and down in a soothing manner.

He looks up at you, tears covering his cheeks. “You know I think this is the only picture I have of me and my dad. I think he was happier than me that day. He was so proud to pass his car down to me.”

You just smile sadly and pull him in for a hug. He throws the pillow away and pulls you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. You gently wipe away his tears with your thumbs. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I never even knew him, Y/N. And now I’m never gonna get the chance to.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck and tightens his arms around your waist. He starts sobbing again.

You rub one hand up and down his back and run your other through his hair. “Shhh, Ransom. I know you’re hurting. I’m so sorry you lost him.”

“I fucking hate this, Y/N! I hate feeling like this. So helpless. And he fucking died alone. That’s gonna be me. I don’t want to die alone.” He looks up at you so innocently. So heartbroken.

You grab his face with both hands. “Hugh Ransom Drysdale, you’re not going to die alone. If you’re that afraid of it then change your ways.”

He lowers his eyes towards his hands that are resting on your hips. “I just hate feeling this way. I didn’t even know him. Why am I so fucking sad?” He looks back up at you.

“Because you didn’t know him and you’re regretting that. It’s too late to do anything about it now. Unfortunately you’re just going to have to deal with it and grieve. Doesn’t mean you can’t change your other relationships though. So you don’t feel like this ever again.”

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in just enough until your lips are touching. “It hurts so much, Y/N. Please help me forget. Even for just a little bit. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.” He pulls you in for a fierce kiss, enough to take your breath away.

After you gain back some control you push against his chest. “Ransom, I don’t think this is the best way-”

“Please,Y/N? Please take the pain away.”

Your heart breaks. You look him in the eye and nod your head. He pulls you back in for another heated kiss. If this was the only way you could take away his pain, even if temporary, you’ll give it to him.

You put your hands in his hair and give it a tug making him groan. One of his hands moves to your ass, making you grind against his growing erection. The other remains on the back of your neck, not letting you break the kiss. He needs you close right now.

He pulls back from the kiss. “Need you, baby. Please.”

You quickly stand up to remove your pajama shorts and panties while he lowers his sweats just enough to free himself. You straddle him again and stroke his length up and down a few times, smearing his pre-cum all over. You guide him to your entrance and sink down on him. “Fuck, Ransom. Always feels so good.”

You give yourself a few minutes to adjust once your hips are flush against his. He settles his hands on your waist while yours rest on his shoulders. You lean in for a kiss before you start moving up and down on him. Moving at the hard and fast pace you know he always prefers.

“Wait, baby, slow down.” He grips your hips to stop your movements. You look at him confused. He always likes it hard and fast. He tightens his hold on your hips and starts grinding you on him. “Just need to feel you, Y/N. Can we slow down?”

Your heart flutters. “Of course.” You take over and start grinding against him. Keeping a slow rhythm. You throw your head back and moan. God he feels amazing. You can feel every part of him like this. Usually he’s going so fast you don’t get to appreciate the feeling of him dragging along your walls like this. This isn’t about reaching orgasm. This is intimacy. This is about feelings.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck. “You feel so good, baby. You take me so well. Like you were made for me. Made to fit me. My beautiful Y/N.”

You can feel tears well up in your eyes. You know this might not feel the same for him but it’s making you fall even more in love with him than what you already were.

You're not going to last long. Not only are your emotions getting the best of you but your clit is rubbing deliciously against his pelvis. He can feel you fluttering on his cock.

He pulls back and looks at you. “Gonna come for me pretty girl? I can feel you. You’re squeezing me so good. Let go, Y/N. I’m right behind you.”

You fall apart at his words. His name is a whisper on your lips. He buries his face back into the crook of your neck as he meets his end with a groan. Filling you up with everything he has.

You both stay like that for a minute. Just holding each other like you were afraid the other would disappear. He pulls back and looks at you again. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and smiles softly at you. “I love you, Y/N. God I love you so fucking much.”

You feel tears fall down your face. “I love you too, Ransom. Always have and always will. I won’t let you die alone.”

He pulls you in for another kiss. “No more of this fuck buddy stuff. I’m in this for real. For the long haul. I can’t feel like this ever again. I can live with how I feel about my dad. But you? I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try.”

“We’re talking about a relationship here Ransom. The exact thing you always said you didn’t want. What if it doesn’t work out? What if you change your mind?”

“It will work out, I’ll make sure it does. I won’t be changing my mind. You’re it for me. But if for some reason you decide I’m not what you want, then at least I can say I tried. I’m willing to regret you for the rest of my life.”

You melt at his words. This is all you’ve ever wanted. For him to love you. Why the fuck were you questioning it?

You lean back in for another kiss. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You lean in for another kiss. “Okay. But I’m exhausted. Can you take me to bed now?”

He chuckles and stands you both up. “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s get you to bed.”

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

You wake up the next morning with the biggest smile on your face. Not only did Ransom confess his love for you last night but it was the most beautiful Fall day outside. You wondered if you could convince him to go for a walk with you.

The smell of coffee hits your nose and you quickly throw back the covers to head downstairs. As you turn to head into the kitchen you find Ransom. He’s dialing a number on his phone. His back is to you.

Curious, you stay behind for a minute to see who he’s calling.

“Hello, Mom? Hi. How are you?...Good….Yeah she’s here, she’s upstairs sleeping. I know, I’m not gonna let her go. Hey listen I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me today, just us?”

You can’t help the big smile that spreads across your face. Maybe Ransom was changing after all.

All Cevans characters taglist: @stargazingfangirl18

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey smut #Chris Evans #chris evans smut #fall #autum #ransom x y/n #sweaterbaeschallenge #Cici91 writes

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cayofdreams · 4 years ago

Text

Vengeance = Repentance

PART 1: VENGEANCE

Summary: Reader had bullied Todoroki throughout all his time in high school. Years later, after a reconnection during an after-work drinking session, she goes back to his place, naively unaware of the payback he has planned for her…

Words: 4.1k

Rating: Explicit, Smut (in part 2)

Warnings: bullying by reader in beginning, murderous thoughts by Todoroki, Dark!Todoroki, drugging

(no smut in the first part, just immense build-up)

Notes: I could not for the life of me think of an interesting Todo fic to write. Until...THIS baby popped into my mind. It was actually really challenging and fun to write what goes on in the mind of Dark!Todoroki. I hope I did it justice.

~~~

He hated you.

Sometimes the only reason he had for living was simply to see the day that you’d be six feet under a cold batch of dirt. You’d be all alone down there with no one to control. No one to manipulate. No one to blackmail or threaten.

You’d have no lackey to run around and get you sweet bread from the convenience store. No lookout to make sure any teachers came to catch the abominable acts you committed in the bathroom stall or behind the gymnasium. No rich father to make sure that whatever horrible deeds you committed that were reported were swept gracefully under a rug.

And most importantly, you wouldn’t have him. The target of all your psychological and physical abuse. The one person who constantly fulfilled your insatiably engorged sadistic ego.

“Heyyy~ Shou, can you come here for a sec?” You had called out to your bi-colored haired classmate from the threshold of the class’ door. The twitch in his shoulders in reaction to your voice made you chuckle. Todoroki slowly slid his chair back, making a scratching noise against the tiled floor, and got up. He walked up towards you with his eyes trailing the floor.

“Yes?”

“Ohh! So obedient today, aren’t we? Hehe- It was only a matter of time I suppose.” You smiled your disgustingly innocent smile at him. “I need you to check something for me. It’s important, okay?”

He stayed silent as he watched you move the hand that was behind your back out forward. You had a carton of milk in your hand, and it seemed to have already been open. He saw you put the carton to your nose and sniff harshly from where the opening was before shoving the carton into his chest. A bit of milk spilled out and dripped onto his uniform.

“This milk. It smells kinda funky. I want you to check it for me.”

“…If it smells funny then it’s probably-“

“Did I ask for your cheap opinion? Just do the favor, alright?” You frustratingly squeezed the carton in your hand which made even more milk spurt out and land on your hand as well as Todoroki’s uniform again. “Ugh! Shit! Look what you made me do! From being so obstinate.”

“Sorry…” He took the carton from your hand. It was practically half full now so he wondered why you even still cared so much. But he didn’t ask. He put the carton to his nose and sniffed to try and find a rotten smell to it. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Are you stupid? Not like that, idiot. You’ll never know if its bad if you check like that.” You quickly took the milk from him and raised it in the air. “You have to check like this~” You began to slowly pour the rest of the carton’s contents onto his head, completely soaking his silky hair and ruining his uniform even more. The milk drenched into his shirt and he could feel its cool wetness trickle his skin. “Ahaha! Weeell?? Is it bad or not, Shouutoo??”

There was a loud commotion of hoots and hollers from the other classmates as they watched your tormenting of Todoroki.

“Uwaah!! Milk boy got dunked on again!!”

“Gross! He’s gonna smell so bad later…”

“Dude! Go wash up! You’re gonna make the whole class smell like milk!”

“Krrgh..” Todoroki choked up in frustration, his hands balled into a fist. The fact he couldn’t just punch you right now could drive him to a point of enraged insanity.

The fact he had to let you get away with this over and over again just because of your father’s notorious connections with various government and business groups. He sometimes thought about just killing you anyway and dealing with the consequences. Prison would be more manageable than continuing to live in this same physical plane as you.

He thought about how he’d do it, too. If he would try to do it inconspicuously with poison, or conspicuously with his hands wrapped around your slender little throat. The former lead to more chances of him getting away with it. He could have the pleasure of your death along with his freedom. But the latter…the latter was just too enticing to pass up. Being able to hear your gargled whimpers attempting to beg for your life. Your legs that would try to kick and pry him off your weak body. Your face losing its color as your body is abruptly deprived of oxygen. And finally, his personal favorite, your bloodshot eyes that would be pleading for him to give you mercy before finally greying out.

Yes…the latter would have to do. Time in prison would be a beautiful cost to pay to see you perish under his fingers. The world would thank him later, for getting rid of their waste. Your death would serve as your repentance

But he was weak. Scared. He couldn’t find the conviction he needed to actually go through with it. It made him feel even worse. Maybe you were never wrong, and he was truly as spineless as you treated him.

But he’d get stronger. He had to. He needed to. He craved to.

-------------------------9 YEARS LATER-------------------------

“Good job on closing the deal, Todo!”

Todoroki had felt a harsh pat on his back before a heavy arm was slung over his shoulder by his spikey red haired coworker as he was grabbing his blazer off the chair.

“It was nothing, Kirishima.” He replied coolly but not without a small twinge of a smile.

“Ha! ‘It was nothing’ he says!” The energetic man turned his head around to face everyone else in the office. “Hey! Everyone! Pay attention to this guy right here! You might become the most successful businessman this country has to offer!”

The office chuckled and gave soft cheers for Todoroki, some of them poking fun at Kirishima’s exuberant display of comradery.

“Todo! Kiri! You guys are coming out for drinks, right!” Another one of Todoroki’s energetic co-workers, this time with bright yellow hair, briskly jogged up towards them. “I already invited the ladies!”

“Totally, dude! Where are we supposed to be going?”

“Heights Alliance! That bar has the best drinks and food a guy could ask for. Not to mention cute girls!

Todoroki softly brushed off the arm of Kirishima before putting his jacket on. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Aw! Come on dude!” This time, the yellow-haired co-worker placing his arm around Todoroki’s shoulder. “You alllways bail on us! Come with us this time! Drinks on Kiri!”

“Hey, Kaminari! Don’t decide that for yourself!” Kirishima retorted. “But yeah, man. You should come out. We miss you sometimes, dude.”

Todoroki hesitated as he contemplated his fellow workers’ requests. Honestly, he had never gone out to just...have fun. He would clog his mind with work which was probably why he was successful anyways. He didn’t even know why he was so disciplined when it came to his career. Not knowing what his goals even were. Focusing primarily on work, but for what? To just deny any moments of pleasure or belonging?

Maybe it was time for a change.

“…Alright.”

“Wooo!!! Todo is officially on board!”

The loudness of the cheers of his coworkers rang stingingly through his eardrums but he couldn’t suppress the smile that stemmed on his face.

As he had the feeling tonight would be an unforgettable night.

-------------------------------------------------

Todoroki sighed as he sipped the last of his drink and placed it softly on the counter in front of him. He sat alone as he thought about what he was even doing there. The entire evening basically constituting to watching his co-workers ramble on about various subjects that he could not get the meaning behind. After a while of heavy drinking, that he did not participate in, everyone either went bar-hopping or went home passed out in a taxi. He truly did not understand the purpose of such gatherings and he started to wonder how he’d even fit into society.

As he thought to himself, the sudden words from the bartender disrupted his thoughts.

“Oh hey, Y/N. Long time, no see.”

The abrupt sound of your name made him widen his eyes and his body unconsciously jolt in the barstool. Was it really the same Y/N? No, it couldn’t be. Surely there were a bountiful amount of people with names that were similar to yours. But he had to check for himself, so he looked up from his empty glass and-

“Haha…Shinsou. Looking as gorgeously sleepy as ever. How are you?”

The sounds of your conversation with the bartender drowned out with the rest of the bustled atmosphere as he glared upon you. Without a doubt, it was you. He could never forget that figure. That figure that towered over him menacingly even though he was taller than you. That figure that just watched from a distance as you sent your delinquent underlings to pummel him into the cold cement. That figure who would bow respectfully to teachers when they dismissed any reports of your lechery. And now that same figure was only a few feet away from him, sitting gracefully at the bar counter as you talked to the unknowing bartender.

His glare locked long enough onto your figure for you to finally meet his eyes. And before he could look away, you had called out to him.

“Eh..? To…Todoroki?” You had softly called out to him. Using his name in a way that he had never heard from you before. Using a voice that harshly contradicted the patronizing tone you barked commands at him with. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”. You were smiling at him. Smiling at him as if he were a longtime friend that you missed connections with due to one of you going abroad.

You had hopped out of the barstool and approached your old classmate, taking a new seat beside him. He looked over at the wall of drinks displayed in front him, avoiding your gazing. “Wow…you’re all grown up now, huh?” You looked over to the bartender raising your hand at him. “Shinsou~ A refill on whatever he had, okay? Make it two actually.” The bartender simply nodded at you before mixing up various alcohol and flavors behind the counter.

“I..I don’t want to drink.” Todoroki shivered at his own statement as he was reminded of the times you’d scream at him for not doing something you’d ask.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s on me, okay? Don’t worry about it.” You had inched your head more over the counter trying to get a better look at him. “Your hair…I always thought it was dyed. But I guess its real, huh.” You reached your hand out to run your fingertips through his silky bi-colored bangs. He twitched at your touch.

What exactly were you doing? Acting so innocent with him like this. Were you just going to pretend like the three-year long trauma you subjected him to was a fable? An illusion? Or perhaps you had minimized the damage you’d done in your mind in order to preserve your own sanity as you took over a new life.

“...Y/N. What are you doing?”

You quirked your eyebrows in confusion at his question. “What do you mean? I just…I just think your hair is really pretty is all.”

Were you faking it? Was this another one of your atrocious jokes? Perhaps within the next minute you’d start cackling at him, asking him how he could be stupid enough to believe he deserved such niceties from the likes of you.

Todoroki looked down and squeezed the empty glass on the counter. “Don’t you…don’t you remember? What you did to me?”

“Todoroki…” You lowered your eyebrows in sorrow. “I-I’m sorry for what I did to you back then. I was indeed…a cruel person. I know you probably won’t accept that…but I still want to tell you. You at least deserve my apology. As cheap as it is.”

He looked over to you, surprised at your apologetic tone. He gazed into your e/c eyes. The very e/c eyes that captured the hearts of everyone around you, yet seethed supremacy and calamity toward him. He had learned to distrust anyone with eyes that resembled yours. The eyes that were now looking at him with…

Remorse. Your eyes were burdening in remorse. As soon as Todoroki saw the guilt that dwelled in your eyes he knew that this wasn’t a joke. That you weren’t pretending to feel these things. The look in your eyes unquestionably conveyed the apology you had stated earlier.

And it was that same look that would ascend an unusual beast that lurked within the visceral regions of his body. An unfamiliar thirst that stayed submerged within him, never needing to be satisfied until now. It gurgled within the depths of his gut, practically wanting to vomit out of his esophagus.

A beast that went by the name of revenge. And it would be so easy to pursue it right now with the plague of repentance beating in your heart.

Todoroki placed one of his hands on yours and squeezed tightly. Your skin was so soft, so smooth. He could never take the time to feel how delicate your skin was when the only touch of yours he knew before was the stinging slaps you’d deliver on his face. But tonight, he’d be able to feel something more, and the touch of his hands on yours only made the beast inside of him grow more and more unruly.

“I forgive you, Y/N.” He tried to state it in the softest way possible, making sure the feigning of the line wouldn’t be discovered. However, he knew you believed him by the twinkle in your eye, signifying an immense weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“Todoroki…” A warm tear dropped from your cheek to his hand. “Thank you, Todoroki… thank you.” More tears would soon follow and drop onto his hand. He would’ve let go of you if he wasn’t so encapsulated by the feeling of your salty waters dropping onto his skin. As your tears cooled and dried up into his hand, he couldn’t have felt more enthused.

It was only then that Todoroki could take in the beauty that was your face. You looked so elegant like that, with pools of emotions trailing down your cheeks. Maybe if he’d seen this site of you in high school he’d had instantly fell in love. But such feelings didn’t reside in him anymore. They’d been evicted by the lurking beast of revenge, and that beast was craving more of this site from you.

“Two Vieux Carre cocktails” The bartender had placed the drinks on the counter in front of each of you before grabbing something under the counter. “…and a tissue”. He handed the soft fabric to you which made you giggle a bit.

“Thank you, Shinsou.”

He simply hummed a reply at you and returned to making drinks for other patrons that had walked in.

While you wiped away the allure that was your tears, Todoroki sat there, thinking of prolific strategies of how to get you under his grip. Should he just ask you to come home with him? Wouldn’t that be too straight forward? He didn’t know much about social interactions, but he knew asking a woman at a bar to come home with him had its underlying implications. And its not that he was undesired by women; he knew of the colleagues in his office that held romantic feelings for him. He just never followed through with any of them, never feeling anything close to the desires that were brought for him.

He also couldn’t help but feel subconscious about asking you to come home with him. You were the person that so incredibly ridiculed him for three years. You were still the same person who made him believe that no sane person would ever look twice at him. That he was too weak and monotonous to ever make someone feel happy.

Or were you? It seemed that whatever life change you went through caused you to redevelop your entire personality. Maybe you’d be like most the women he encountered in his life and become attracted to him? After-all, he also wasn’t the same person as he was in high school. He’d become stronger mentally and physically as well as much more confident about himself.

“Y/N, would you like to…finish drinking at my home?”

You stopped drying your tears at the suddenness of the question. “Huh?...You actually want me in your home?”

“Only if you want to.” Todoroki squeezed your hand again attempting to signal the desire to have you with him in private.

Blood rose to your nose and you looked away in embarrassment. “…Okay.”

Todoroki couldn’t stop the widening of his eyes at your acceptance. A part of him truly believed you’d call him disgusting before jumping up and delivering one of your characteristic slaps to his face. The heavens knew just how badly that needed to happen. If you’d rejected him, the beast of revenge may have gone right back to where it resided, deep in the subconscious of his mind.

But no, you’d accepted him. And with that, you’d accept your punishment. If you were truly ready to take on a new life, you would need to repent for your old one.

------------------------------------------------------------

Todoroki couldn’t stop the erratic beating of his heart as the two of you walked over the threshold into his house. He was closer and closer to fulfilling the dream of having you within his grips. But he couldn’t be too impatient as this would be the part where he would need to tread carefully. As the two of you took off your shoes, he would continue to watch your every move, like a jaguar stalking its prey.

“Woww!” Your eyes wandered around Todoroki’s living room, amazed at how expansive and beautifully designed it was. “Your house is so luxurious! And polished!” You looked back at Todoroki. “It suits you.”

Todoroki was a bit taken aback by your statement. As far as he knew, you had a rich father who catered to everything your callous heart desired. He was partly the reason behind his suffering seeing as that your father made sure any unpleasantry brought against you was hushed behind a closed door. “You aren’t used to this?” He stepped over to the mini-bar area and reached up to grab a specific bottle of wine.

“Huh?” You followed behind him and leaned against the bar counter, grazing your finger over the refined marble surface.

“This…kind of house. You aren’t used to it?” He grabbed a corkscrew from the drawer and began to pry off the wine bottle’s cork. “Your father was a rich businessman was he not?”

You scoffed as you rested your elbow on the marble. “My father was in the yakuza. Rich in some aspects, but no businessman.” Your eyes fell from Todoroki to the counter. “And we never got to live in a place anywhere this grand. Especially after he was taken down by the cops…”

“I see.” It made perfect sense honestly. Your yakuza connections would explain the lackeys, the apathy of the teachers towards your lechery, the strange approval of your actions by the entire class. It must’ve been hard behind the scenes having to be the daughter of a yakuza member, but nonetheless it wouldn’t your crimes against his humanity. Todoroki poured two glasses of wine and placed one on the counter next to you.

“Should we…sit on the couch?” You looked towards to main part of the living room, eyes landing on Todoroki’s expensive sectional. “I-I mean…if you want to…”

Todoroki noticed the flustering of your face and couldn’t help but think that if the two of you had met under different pretexts he would surely have made you his wife. But marriage is not what this affair is about. This affair is about satisfying the demon that grew expansively inside of him.

He grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers between yours as he picked up both glasses with his other hand. “I’d love to, Y/N”.

He walked the two of you over to the couch, waiting until you sat down to hand you your glass and sit closely beside you. He carefully watched as you took sips from the glass, mesmerized by the shape of lips and how you’d glossed them for your night out. They looked so soft and delicate and perfectly matched the dimensions of your face.

But your naivety obviously outmatched your beauty Todoroki thought. How could you so easily drink from the hands of someone who would so obviously want to get revenge on you? Did your newfound personality make you oblivious to the dangers of life? Maybe after wanting to permanently discard the remains of the yakuza from your brain, you decided to look at people in a new light. Maybe you wanted to just see the good in everyone and learn that most people aren’t out to destroy you. It is indeed a true thought; most people don’t want to destroy you.

But most people also don’t subject those around them to abhorrent acts of malice. And for that, your naivety would prove to be one of the worst decisions you’d made in your small existence.

“Your wine…it tastes very good.” You had swirled what left of it you had before drinking it all within a couple more gulps.

Probably the best compliment you could have said in your life. Todoroki had taken the time to make sure every speckle of power was completely dissolved into the wine. He couldn’t taste it himself or get a taste tester of course, so he would have just had to wait until your ultimate encountering to test it. And it worked.

“It was a gift from a friend abroad.” A lie. But a believable lie. “I’m glad you like it.”

You quizzingly looked at his still full glass of wine in his hand. “Why didn’t you drink any?”

“Oh...I- well I guess I am already a bit tipsy from the bar so further consumption would be ill-advised.” He smoothy stated before placing the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggled at the statement as Todoroki internally cackled at your gullibility.

“You know, Todoroki…” Your eyes strayed to your lap. “I know this must mean nothing coming from me but…I liked you a lot in high school.” You twirled your index finger in circles on your skirt. “And I know I was mean to you but…I believe that our encounter must have been fate because, well…I still like you.”

Todoroki smiled, a cover-up for the guttural laughter that wanted to burst out of him. He let go of your hand and traced his fingers across your cheek before holding the side of your face delicately in his hand. “That…means more than you’d ever know, Y/N.”

“Shouto…”

He leaned over to give you a peck on the cheek before pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were just as soft as they looked and the gloss you wore provided a sweet vanilla taste. You sunk your hand into the red side of his hair before slipping your tongue in between his lips. Your tongue felt hot in his mouth and Todoroki grabbed your head to pull you deeper into the kiss. He tasted every part of your mouth that he could with his tongue. Your teeth, your gums, the inside of your cheeks. He made sure to leave his mark everywhere in your mouth, foreboding to the marks that would soon be left on your body.

As his kiss got deeper, yours became shallower and lazier. Eventually you pressed your hand against his chest to softly get him to back up.

“I’m sorry, Shouto…” You pressed your hand to your forehead. “It seems…I have a headache…and I’m kinda sleepy.” Your eyelids drooped heavily as sleep seemed to overcome you. “I…should go home.”

Shouto grabbed your head and leaned you down on the couch, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Ssshh…its okay Y/N. You can just sleep here for tonight. I’ll drive you back in the morning.”

“Okay…thankyou, Shouto.” You quickly drifted off to sleep at the finish of your sentence.

When Todoroki felt the heaves of your chest raise higher and lower at deeper levels, he picked you up into his arms, carrying you gently to make sure you wouldn’t wake up. Though that was a rare chance seeing as how he put a little extra power in the wine to make sure it would subdue you. He carried you down the corridor to the door that would lead to your demise. Before he walked down the stairs, he whispered into your non-listening ear.

“This encounter is indeed special, Y/N. But it will be more special to you than it will for me…because tonight will mark my vengeance. And tonight will also mark…your repentance.”

#todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki smut #shouto x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #dark todoroki #shouto todoroki #dark!todoroki

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inadaydream99 · 4 years ago

Note

hello! if it’s okay, could i please request a skz reaction where they reject you but end up regretting it because they realized they really you? if it’s too much, maybe a member of your choice? thank you so much! and please do not rush! take as much time as you need!

Hi, thanks for requesting! I made this quite fluffy, but a few are angst and I also did all members because I couldn’t pick just one 😂 I really hope you enjoy!

Chan

The humiliation was real. Being rejected is more embarrassing that you think, especially when it’s by one of your friends.

You’d had a crush on Chan for a very long time. You’ve just never said anything until now in fear of rejection and, as it turns out, you should have just kept your feelings to yourself.

You couldn’t even look at him as you heard him mutter “I’m sorry.”, nodding your head in responce as it hangs low.

It’s been a few days since then and you’ve not stopped replaying the scene in your head since. Your mind is literally torturing you, making you cringe and you just end up stuffing your face into your pillow in a weak attempt at repressing it.

Just as you’re finally about to fall asleep you hear a knock on your front door, whining as you sit up on your bed before dragging yourself to see who could possible be visiting you.

Your breath hitches when you open the door to reveal Chan stood on the opposite side. He looks nervous, swinging back and forth on his feet impatiently. Your eyes lock instantly and for a minute you feel like you are dreaming.

“Do you believe in second chances?” He breaks the shocked silence, a relieved smile growing on his face when you nod yes, still in a daze.

“Then I’d really like to take that chance. I regretted letting you go without telling you how I really feel.” Chan continues, slowly becoming more confident and bubbly with each passing second.

“I guess you’ll have to tell me now then.” You tease with an elated grin on your face.

Minho

Minho hated himself for pushing you away. He hated himself for being the reason you are upset. But most of all he hated himself because he is so madly in love with you and he ruined any chance to tell you.

That is until he has an epiphany while moping around. If you won’t listen to him or respond to any of his messages, then he’ll just have to find a way to win you over, a way that you can’t ignore.

“I may not show it often, but you mean everything to me!” Minho shouts up to you from the middle of the street.

It 2am and freezing outside, but he doesn’t care. He’s finally been able to get your attention by throwing pebbles at your window and playing your favourite song on full blast through his speaker, what a cliché moment.

“I’m in love with you.” He shouts at the top of his lungs.

The cheesy grin on your face can’t possibly be hidden. You never thought you would ever see Minho do anything like this. Risking everything just to tell you how he feels.

“I love you too!” You shout back, letting all your worries go and just living in the moment.

“Can you two be quiet!” You hear a voice shout out. One of your neighbours must have grown tired of all the noise.

You both snicker at one another in giddy amusement, feeling like devious kids. Partners in crime.

You signal to Minho that you’ll be down in a minute, rushing out of your apartment and down the stairs to meet him in the blustering wind. Ready to start a new chapter together.

Changbin

“I never want to be the reason you’re hurting.” Changbin takes your hand in his, pleaing for forgiveness from you.

What had started off as a lighthearted conversation amongst the group had turned sour pretty fast. It all started because Seungmin asked Changbin if he would ever date you in front of everyone. It wasn’t intentional on Seungmin’s part to cause an argument, he thought it was quite a funny question to ask because you and Changbin have been best friends for so long. But when Changbin said “no” without even a seconds thought you were deeply hurt. Was there something repulsive about you to him?

“Then why did you reject me in front of everyone?” You defensively retort. You’re not impressed with him right now, and rightly so. But you can see the genuine regret he feels which makes it hard to stay mad for very long.

“Because I panicked... I didn’t want you find find out how I feel about you like that.” Changbin mumbles, feeling nervous in his confession to you. He knows that he has to be honest with you now because he can’t stand the idea of losing you completely.

“How do you feel about me?” You encourage him to continue, your body language becoming less defensive as you relax your shoulders.

“Like you’re the only person who’s opinion I care about, that you light up any room you enter instantly... that you are the only one I ever want to be with.” Changbin’s words are heartfelt and you can tell it’s taken a lot of courage for him to say them.

“I feel the same about you.” You manage to respond whilst holding back tears of joy.

Hyunjin

“So I overreacted, I do that all the time!” Hyunjin throws his hands up defensively, his excuse falling on deaf ears as he rants away to Minho.

“But you still rejected (Y/N), regardles of how you feel now.” Minho looks up from his phone to see Hyunjin’s reaction.

“Then what should I do?” He whines, dramatically falling against the table in distress. At least he’d finally stoped pacing the room.

“You go and appologise?” Minho sarcastically states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Hyunjin just mimickes him, annoyed by his lack of sympathy towards the situation. Though anyone would feel agitated when it’s all Hyunjin has gone on about for the last few days.

You stand in shock having answered the door to reveal Hyunjin and after ten minutes of him apologising and begging for you to give him a chance to redeem himself (a little too loudly for comfort), it’s your turn to speak.

“It’s gonna take a while to redeem yourself, but maybe we can try.” You agree, rolling your eyes playfully when Hyunjin crushes you in a tight hug, repeatedly thanking you for a second chance.

Jisung

“I did the one thing I promised myself I’d never do...” Jisung sighs in defeat. He can barely look you in the eye as he faces the consequences of his actions.

You’d initially been disheartened when he rejected you, but he was sympathetic towards your feelings and gently let you down rather than being too harsh. You even smiled through the pain and embarrassment, agreeing to not let it ruin your friendship.

But that was almost a year ago now. You have moved on from your crush on Jisung and recently started seeing someone new.

So when he suddenly confesses that he has feelings for you, you aren’t too sure how to react. Initially you feel mad because you feel loke he is messing with your emotions. But the longer you have to process the information, the more you understand where he is coming from.

“I don’t want to be the reason you’re not happy, but seeing you with someone else hurts.” He continues, finally mustering up enough courage to look at you and take in your reaction.

“I don’t know what to say...” You sigh, watching as Jisung takes a deep breath and nod his head. He looks like he is preparing himself for rejection, just like he did to you, and that’s what makes it so hard for you to do.

“Regardless of my feelings towards you, I’m with someone else.” Your chest aches from seeing his solumn face, it’s just as painful being the rejector.

“Can I just know... if I’d not rejected you last year, would I still have a chance?” Jisung’s voice is shallow and weak, his eyes glossy from all the unshed tears.

You can no longer speak, feeling absolutely terrible, so you just nod yes, shooting him a meek smile.

Felix

Felix holds the cake outstretched in his hands, sending you a pleading smile. “I’m sorry.” He apologises, a hopeful look on his face.

You can’t help but crack a smile, laughing at your goofy friend.

“Felix why do you have a cake?” You raise your brow. Truthfully, you find the whole situation hilarious, only Felix would do something so endearing and sweet like bake you a cake when he wants to make things up to you.

“A good way to appologise is with cake.” He states like it’s a well known fact. “And I was kind of hoping that you’ll love the cake so much you’ll give me a second chance, because I really like you (Y/N).” He continues, catching you off guard. You’d never expected him to change his mind after rejecting you.

“Well, it is a really pretty cake... but are you sure?” You act coy, not wanting to give your feelings away in case he has another change of heart.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He admits confidently, an elated grin on his face when you accept the cake and grab his hand, dragging him into your apartment.

Seungmin

“I will fix what I have broken.” Seungmin is so determined to get you back that he almost sounds angry. Even Hyunjin flinches a little at his words, watching silently as Seungmin marches off to find you.

After having confessed to Seungmin a couple of weeks ago, you hadn’t spoken to him since. You just felt too embarrassed and awkward to face him and so your friendship crumbled.

“(Y/N) we need to talk.” Seungmin comes striding into your work, making the small office fall deathly silent.

“Seungmin I’m working right now.” You whisper, your eyes darting around the room self consciously to make sure no one is watching you.

“But it’s important.” He states, shooting you his best puppy eyes so you’ll give into him.

“Ugh fine.” You cave, ushering him into the empty room next door so you have some privacy.

“I like you.” Your eyes grow wide at his confession. Had you heard him right?

“But... you-”

“I know and I’m so sorry. It made me realise that there’s a part of me missing when you’re not around.” Seungmin anxiously explains. His demeanour has done a 180 degree flip now, he looks timid and nervous as he wait for you to process the information.

“I wish you’d realised sooner, but I guess better late than never.” You tease, feeling your heart skip a beat upon seeing Seungmin’s face light up with the most adorable smile you’ve ever seen.

Jeongin

“Caught off guard was an understatement.” Jeongin reasons, trying everything he has to get you to forgive him. But he’s the reason you’re heartbroken, he can’t keep playing with your fragile emotions like this.

“No, you had your chance. I can’t believe you have the audacity to make excuses like this. You humiliated me in front of all my closest friends.” You remain strong, your face void of any emotion, regeardless of how difficult it is to see Jeongin like this.

“Just give me a chance to make it up to you.” He begs. It’s almost pathetic how desperate he looks right now.

“Goodbye Jeongin.” You snarl, slamming the door shut in his face. Jeongin stands defeated on the opposite side of the door. He knows this is what he deserves, but it’s never nice to get a taste of what you dish out to others.

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mskatesharma · 4 years ago

Text

entertaining a gentleman

Anthony is making his way back from the bathroom when he’s stopped by the wall of photos, one in particular catching the corner of his eye. He takes a step closer, and he can’t help the smile that overtakes his face.

It’s of Kate and Edwina, with a man Anthony assumes is their father, when Edwina was a baby. Kate is beaming at the baby in her arms, while Mr Sheffield is looking down adoringly at the two of them. Anthony can feel the warmth emanating from the photo, and he can feel it spreading through his body. It reminds him of the photos at his mother’s house, the ones that line the staircase, and the many albums she has lovingly put together, and he has the urge to go through them; to see his father’s smile as he’s surrounded by his family. He’s about to let his eyes roam to the other photos dotted on the wall when he’s interrupted by a low voice coming from behind the door to his right.

“Ohh, have you been a good boy then?” Anthony’s body pauses as he realises it’s Kate’s voice, before she continues. “Are you sure you’ve been a good boy? I’ve missed you, yes I have.” Anthony swallows as he moves closer to the door. “Don’t make me tie you up again, you made a mess the last time I let you off.”

ao3 link or under the cut

Anthony reels back from the door as it dawns on him exactly what is taking place behind the door. He didn’t think that Kate was the type. Yes, the woman may infuriate him like no other person he has ever met, and yes he thinks she is an utter menace who has no place in polite society, but he accepts one of her only redeeming features is how much she loves her family, and how important they are to her. And somehow, he didn’t think she was the type to entertain a gentleman in the middle of a celebratory lunch for her stepmother. He takes a step closer to the door.

“Stop being naughty now. Oh, you think a kiss will make it better?” The reply is something low, Anthony thinks that maybe it’s a growl. “Are you my best boy? Yes you are. The best boy. But only when you’re good. Don’t look at me like that. Ugh, I know, even when you’re naughty you’re still my favourite boy; I can never resist that face. And I think you know that.” Well, clearly Kate has an intense affection for whoever she is with.

“You have me wrapped around my finger. You could do anything and I would let you get away with it. But we won’t tell Mary that, I think she’s still cross with you.” Anthony allows himself a small smirk at that; Mary is clearly not a fan of whoever Kate has in there with her. Well really, maybe he needs to reevaluate his opinion of the elder Miss Sharma; he didn’t think she would associate with someone her stepmother clearly did not approve of.

He hears Kate giggle some more, followed by “ahh that tickles''. Anthony starts to begin to feel a little warmer, and his heart clenches when he hears Kate laugh even louder. Anthony hates that he’s imagined eliciting such a reaction from her in his many, many dreams of her, and here he is, hearing her give that to someone else.

Would she call him a good boy is he asked? He cuts off his thoughts before they can go any further. Although, he admits, that particular phrase will probably feature in his dream tonight. Maybe they’ll even be some tied hands involved.

“You’re starting to be a naughty boy right now.” Anthony hates that his mind wanders to wanting to know exactly what action is occurring for Kate to brand her partner a naughty boy. Involuntarily, Anthony’s hand reaches up to adjust his collar.

“No stop that. I said no.” There’s a muffled bang, followed by a crash, and Anthony’s spine stiffens. “Don’t do that, I don’t want you to do that.” There’s another crash, louder this time, the sound of something breaking, and Anthony’s hand flies to the door handle; ready to put a halt to something she clearly doesn’t want to happen. He doesn’t even realise he has burst through the door when-

“GET OFF HER!” SHE said stop…” Anthony’s voice trails off as he takes in the scene in front of him. “Oh for goodness sake, are you kidding?” Or rather, the lack of what he expected to see, because there is most definitely a scene before him. A chair with a broken leg, an upturned table, and broken vase litter the floor. And in the middle of the mess is Kate. Kate and her infernal dog, Newton, with his incessantly wagging tail. Anthony can already feel the colour warming his face.

“Anthony? What are you doing?”

“...”

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I er, I er thought…”

“What? You thought what?”

“Well, that…”

“What? Why did you burst in here like that? What exactly, did you think was happening here?”

“Well...that you were…”

“Were what?”

“I thought you had someone in here with you!” he finally barks.

“I don’t...what are you talking about?”

“I thought you had a gentleman friend in here with you...that you were entertaining him and told him to stop, but that he wasn’t listening.”

He would laugh at the way Kate’s eyes widened if he wasn’t too busy trying to fend off his own mortification. “WHAT?! It’s Mary’s birthday! Do you think I would sneak away from dinner for an extreme quickie in between mains and dessert?”

“Well not now!” Anthony can’t help but think he’s given Kate an unwanted peek into his sex life.

“Really, you don’t say.” And there’s her delightful sarcasm.

“Clearly it was just you and your stupid dog!”

“Newton is not stupid!”

“He’s not even a proper dog. He’s an overweight rat.”

“You take that back, you’ll hurt his feelings.”

“Good, maybe then he’ll learn how to behave in proper company.” As if to prove his point, Newton bounds over to him and raises his front paws to rest on Anthony’s legs. His tongue is hanging out, and Anthony can do nothing but roll his eyes in return.

“Newton knows how to behave.”

“Really? Then why is he in this room and not out with the rest of the party?” Anthony knows he has her when she breaks his gaze, and instead busies herself in righting the table, and picking up the broken bits of vase. “Nothing to say that?”

“I don’t deem it worthy of a response.”

“How convenient.”

“Yes, it is rather.” Kate deposits the bits of broken vase on the table. “I’ll glue it back together once everyone has left.”

Anthony simply “hmm”s in response, before asking his next question. “So why is Newton being kept sequestered in this room?” Kate glares at him, before sighing.

“Mary and Newton are not the best combination. Well, that’s not quite right. Newton absolutely adores Mary, maybe a bit too much, but the feeling is definitely not mutual. And so Newton tries a little too hard in trying to win her over.”

“So why did you bring him?��

“Because I’m staying here tonight and didn’t want to have to rush back tomorrow.” A silence settles over them, their eyes seemingly locked together and Anthony isn’t quite sure how to break it when Kate does it for him, her gaze shifting to her feet. “Thank you.”

Anthony quirks an eyebrow at her. “For what?”

“For coming in when you did.” Her eyes meet his again. “Even though it wasn’t what you thought, I do appreciate that you came in to stop what you thought was happening.”

“Oh, right. Well I didn’t really think about it to be honest, would have done the same for anyone.”

“I don’t doubt that, but thank you all the same.” Her smile is tentative, and Anthony’s own is hesitant in return, when a thought pops into his head.

“I think those are the nicest words you’ve ever said to me Sharma.”

“Hmm, maybe. You did, however, insult Newton again, and I never forget an insult directed to my family. So I wouldn’t get used to it if I was you.”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she’s actually very nice to him in the dreams he has of her, but Anthony somehow manages to reign in his tongue. Kate raises a brow, noting his silence, before he clears his throat and mutters a “wouldn’t dream of it.”

She only laughs in response, and Anthony knows that tonight, like so many recently, will involve him trying to delay her inevitable visit while he slumbers. “Shut up Sharma.”

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate x anthony #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #kathony fic #kathony fanfiction #kanthony #my fic #newton is as much of a menace as kate #and we love him for it #i know this is stupid but it made me smile when i thought of it so #i'm sharing it with you #hopefully it puts a smile on at least one other person's face

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jangmi-latte · 4 years ago

Note

Hiiiii may i order a Leona Oneshot please? Where NRC holds a party, a ball perhaps, and the s/o is ready and all but her insecurity gets the best of her and instead of going straight to the party, she wanders around school grounds,,crying and leona comes around looking for her? THANK YOUUU

❞ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ❝

➻ content: a jar of flowers and an expensive gown

➻ warnings: none

➻ comments: ballroom...leona...comfort...anonie...pardon me but..i got carried away and wrote this in first pov. hope you don’t mind! and if any of you are familiar with the setting of the story, my my, cogratulations ;)

I could hear the music playing in the distance. It’s so calming, yet I knew inside that room probably holds one of the best parties NRC has ever thrown. Probably not formality wise, but maybe because it’s open for guests outside of the school. There are celebrities, some friends fellow classmates invited, and beautiful people walking around the grounds.

Everyone is so...breathtaking.

The way they casually held their head up high, the smile they effortlessly show their smiles and still look beautiful. Am I jealous? No... Maybe?

I looked in front of the mirror. There stood just a casual looking girl. This gorgeous gown is best off wrapped around someone else’s body. Not mine. Y/n, stop it. You were invited to this ball for a reason...

What reason exactly...?

I sighed. My hand grazed on the mirror gently, like it would break just by a simple touch. To think the prince of the Afterglow Savannah would bring me here when he doesn’t like gatherings himself. Why? I just want answers. It’s already 6 in the evening and I haven’t left my room. “Y/n?”

I looked over at the door. There stood Ruggie who looked at me in surprise. That’s right, I’m still in one of Savanclaw’s guest rooms. “The party’s already started. Let’s go. Don’t wanna let you get lost, now would we?” He gave one of his signature chuckles while I just smiled.

“I’m coming.”

The walk to the venue was...long to say the least. The sun was starting to set. The sky was painted in deep colours of violet, magenta, and blue. The sun being a small ball of yellow and red as it slowly slept for the night. Staying out here is much better, yes? I looked back in front of me, Ruggie’s already holding the door open to the room. Inside, I could see, was the men and women that joyfully danced around. Chattering and dancing with each other.

I barely know anyone in here. I can see Vil Schoenheit being surrounded by people, probably wanting a photograph or anything. I see Sir Draconia by the corner of the room talking to a shorter man that I can’t make out who. Doesn’t he enjoy the party, perhaps?

“Are you coming?” I blinked and looked back at Ruggie. I can’t. I really can’t be in a room full of these mind-blowing, drop-dead gorgeous and possibly rich people. I cleared my throat and smiled at Ruggie. “I-It’s okay, Ruggie. You can go on without me.” I rubbed my hands together and looked around. Where can I go besides here? “I’ll come inside later. I think I forgot something in the room,” I lied.

Ruggie arched an eyebrow, looked inside, and back at me. “Okay then. But if you got lost just call me or Leona.” I always expected him to keep a lookout for me. Probably Leona’s orders. I nodded as I watched him head inside. I haven’t seen Leona ever since I arrived at this college. Of course, he must be inside that event having to talk to pretty women.

My legs brought me anywhere far from that place. I can’t see myself standing near any of those people. Let alone walk on the same ground and breathe the same air as them. I’m merely a commoner, not that beautiful, and just someone. At least, I am someone. I was about to head inside this botanical garden when I heard a giggle of another girl inside. Yikes, this place is taken. I turned somewhere else and once I was quite far from the garden, I saw Sir Draconia with that small man heading to the garden.

How lucky that girl is to have the Malleus Draconia talk to her. Couldn’t be me. Why am I assuming things?

I shook my head and wandered elsewhere. I don’t know where I am anymore. I could still hear the orchestra from the event but I was in front of the woods now. I think I’m lost. How stupid of me.

I took a deep breath and just sat on a log that was near a small pond. This gown has been a waste now. Why am I wearing it? Who am I to wear it? Why, I just wasted the makeup and an expensive gown. Cruel of me. I’m sorry. I removed the pins and ties that was holding my hair up. I want this night to be over. The moon is now shining brightly above me as I looked down at the reflection of myself on the pond.

Is this face supposed to be in a crowd of beautiful people? Disgrace. I know I’m not pretty. I’m not worth admiring. Yet why am I here? The pond rippled under me. Was it going to rain?

Oh wait, that’s just me.

My hand went up to touch my cheek as I sniffled. Pathetic little girl, are you? No one can see me, good. Let this place be a secret where a stupid girl cried all alone. Why? Because she’s ugly. That’s the truth.

“I don’t like the fact you made me walk around the school just to look for you.”

I snapped my head over to look at whoever talked behind me. To my surprise, there, I see the second prince of the Afterglow Savannah looking at me. The moon illuminated his features beautifully. The suit he’s wearing isn’t exactly as prim as it should be. Three unbuttoned top buttons, the black blazer he wore doesn’t look ironed to me, his hair tied into a side ponytail and a hand in his pocket. Handsome, yes.

I looked away and wiped my tears. Damn it, y/n. Do you know how miserable you look in front of a prince? “Glad to see you’re not inside that stupid party. Spared me the noise,” he continued as I heard him coming closer to me. I kept my head down, keeping my sniffles low as I wondered. Did he really make an effort to look for me?

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sounding unintentionally shaky as I feel the tears starting to prick my eyes again. It was quiet. I never looked up from gazing on my lap. It feels wrong having to look at Leona when I look this pathetic. I heard him ‘tsk’ before I sensed his presence in front of me.

His fingers went under my chin, pushing it upwards so I would face him. Ugh, the embarrassment. My nose and eyes are probably red by now. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I couldn’t accept the fact that I feel so... I don’t know...

“Why are you crying? You look miserable,” he remarked.

“I know...” I mumbled. I can’t look at his face. My eyes are closed and yet I could feel his gaze at me.

“Damn, you’re a pain in the neck,” he grumbled and flicked my forehead making me wince. Not really painful, just made me rub my forehead as I looked at him with scrunched eyebrows. He was just looking at me as if not knowing what to do.

“Why aren’t you at the party?” I sparked a conversation, still wanting answers unto why he’s here in front of me instead of being with the others. I know he hates gathering but he could’ve just went back to the dorm. “It’s unsightly if I let a guest I invited be left alone. Didn’t you think of that, herbivore?” he commented.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“You didn’t ask anything...” I trailed off as he rolled his eyes and sat on the log next to me. “Why were you crying out here all alone?” he grumbled and crossed his arms, laying his back on the tree behind us with his arms crossed. “Nothing...” I mumbled.

“I’m being serious here.” His sharp emerald eyes glared at me. I know he’s trying to help without having to look like a big softy. I’m glad to have him around, however, I can’t help but just be bothered by these thoughts that kept swallowing me whole. I ended up not speaking as I looked back down.

“Y/n.”

I hummed, still not looking at him. How do I exactly respond to that? Blurting out and just saying I’m insecure is awkward, isn’t it? I rubbed my hands together, letting my fingers intertwined with each other as I felt the atmosphere frow intense. He must be asleep now.

How wrong was I when I looked over at him. Please don’t just stare at me and say something, Leona. “What...?” I stuttered out. He gave me no response. I hate this atmosphere. I pushed on his shoulder, making him yelp in surprise before I scooted over to the edge of the log and turned my back against him.

“You blasted herbivore,” he huffed as I looked over my shoulder. He’s not mad at all. I’ve known this bastard for years. “You suck at comforting!” I said and glared at him. He rolled his eyes and stretched his legs, commenting, “I’m not here to comfort you, idiot.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To get away from the party.”

“Then go back to your dorm.”

“It’s boring.”

“You just it’s unsightly for you to leave me alone.”

“Are you always this talkative?”

Damn you, Leona Kingscholar! I exhaled through my nose and stood up from the log. Fine then. I’m leaving your ass out here. I marched around him, making sure my gown hits his face before I felt his hand grip my arm and pull me down. The hell does he want now?!

“You were just crying minutes ago. Why are you smiling now?” he smirked. I folded my lips after realizing and feeling the edge of my lips stretch out. Y/n, what’s wrong with you?

“Either way. You’re not leaving me here. You only get to leave after I’ve taken my nap.” He yawned while I frowned.

“I’m not gonna sit here and let you sleep.”

“Then tell me why you were crying.”

“Because I didn’t feel pretty, dumbass,” I blurted out and sucked my lower lip. His beautiful green eyes somehow softened, or am I hallucinating? If this is the only way I could open up about myself, then so be it. Not like he would even care right? At least I have him to be with me.

“And who told you that?” he grumbled, his arm just laying limp around my waist while he laid his head back on the tree. “Me.”

“That’s just your opinion.”

“Better start judging myself rather than have other people whisper about me...” I sighed. I really am talkative.

“Have other people even seen you? No. I don’t think so. You didn’t even go inside. How can you guarantee they would call you ugly?”

“Because I am. All of them are pretty. Men and women alike.”

“Pretty on the outside, a bastard on the inside,” Leona remarked and closed his eyes. “If only you...” he yawned and continued, “...heard how chatty they are. All they care about are gossips.”

“Oh?” My eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Do you think I would come to you if you’re the same? No. Now shut up and let me sleep.” he grumbled as I laid my back on his chest. His words processed deeply in my mind. Sure it wasn’t direct. He might’ve had a different meaning to what he was saying. Leona Kingscholar isn’t one to comfort you after all, but he could give one of the greatest words your mind can process.

He came to me instead of staying in that party. He looked for me. He didn’t let me leave. Kingscholar, you surely are something else. This time, I didn’t stop the smile to stretch on my lips as I looked up at the slumbering lion. You truly are something else. I’m glad to have you by my side.

I guess this night isn’t a waste after all. I stretched my neck and looked back at the pound. There, in my reflection, is a woman who may not see herself as beautiful. But is still reminded as beautiful in the inside. It’s not the looks, it’s the personality, y/n.

Remember that.

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