#destinee i need to know. are you out there. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sketchguk · 4 years ago

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a world alone; myg

➳ pairing: vampire!yoongi, street racer!yoongi x reader

➳ genre: modern vampire AU, street racer AU, bad boy AU, fwb AU, smut, fluff, angst

➳ wc: 11.3k

➳ synopsis: the rest of the world will pay no mind to yoongi’s gentle soul. they’ll take one look at his etched skin, bruised knuckles, and gnarly scar and write him off as the bad guy regardless of the faded heart he wears on his sleeve. they think they know everything about your best friend, yet they’ll never know about his bloodlust and his need for speed.

➳ warnings: explicit language, mentions of drug and alcohol consumption, heavy petting, blood sucking, menstrual blood, oral (f receiving), handjobs, fingering, unprotected sex.

➳ a/n: this is dedicated to my delightful destinee, @yourdelights 🥺💖 i was heavily inspired by Lorde’s music, and I’m dying for her comeback!! yoongi’s character was also based on jess’ character from gilmore girls (shout-out to vic for reigniting my love for that show @minsprings !!)

Your parents always warn you about hanging out with the wrong crowd. They’re under the false impression that anyone who surfs the internet for “fun” and recreationally smokes weed in their parents’ basement — two crimes worthy of capital punishment — is inherently the offspring of Satan.

It’s quite melodramatic to say the least, but they don’t even know the half of it.

Sure, you understand the consequences of drinking fireballs until your throat is raw and getting plastered beyond recognition. You can also see why it’d be a bad idea to stick and poke needles into one another’s arms or to have unprotected sex. It’s inevitably a part of suburban culture when there’s nothing else to do in this deadbeat town besides pray to a God who doesn’t even care to listen.

But if they think their advice is going to stop you from being a quote unquote deadbeat, they’re gravely mistaken.

There’s no harm in a little bit of indulgence, right? Because if there’s one thing you can’t wrap your head around, it’s reasons to stay away from Min Yoongi.

They claim that the infamous bad boy is “nothing but trouble,” but to you, there’s absolutely nothing dangerous about his warm eyes and gentle hands. He may be a little wild and fluorescent in the dark, but under the moonlight, the way he wraps you around in his ink spattered arms makes you feel safer than no other. Although Yoongi is anything but perfect, you can easily acknowledge that.

Yoongi has his flaws. A million and one bad habits to kick. He has tired eyes, no doubt from his unhealthy lack of sleep. His caffeine addiction keeps him up at night, yet you can’t help but spur it every time you secretly drop by his place with an americano in hand. Not only is his hot breath laced with coffee beans, but on occasion, it’s unmistakably mingled with some potent nicotine. To be quite honest, the taste isn’t as bad as your parents describe it to be. You’ve been trying to wean him off of it though, and it’s been working for the most part.

Rather, in place of smoking a pack a week, Yoongi subconsciously bites his nails. Even though chewing off his cuticles isn’t a healthy substitute either, it’s certainly better than killing his lungs and filling it with smoke. You can also admit to biting your own nails out of fear or anxiety sometimes, but ever since you started to hang around the older boy, the habit has diminished significantly. Nowadays, your mouth is fixated on other things your mother wouldn’t be proud to hear about.

In the hazy, quiet of the night, when the rest of the world is fast asleep, you situate yourself on top of Yoongi’s lap, straddling him on either side of his thigh just like clockwork. The novel you were once reading is long forgotten from your dainty hands, too busy carding it through his dark locks and pulling at his roots. Your mouths are preoccupied with one another as he’s the one to bite your lip, and you’re the one to bite your tongue, holding back secrets he’s not ready to hear.

With parted lips and clashing teeth, Yoongi rolls his tongue around yours. In a fight for dominance, you’d gladly submit to him any day. A gasp falls between your teeth and a shiver runs down your spine as he trails his cold hands down your sides, rubbing circles into your exposed hip bones with his calloused thumbs, never daring to dip further south without your permission.

He peppers kisses down the column of your throat with his swollen lips, sucking bruises into the tender skin. Yoongi focuses his attention at the base of your neck, lapping at the pretty love bites adorning your clavicle. You brace yourself for what’s to come by squeezing at his broad shoulders. Growing restless, you begin to bounce on his lap, begging for him to use you at his disposal.

The faint glow of the overhead lamp illuminates his profile, his honey skin glistening in the low light. Your heavy lidded eyes wills itself to open up, meeting your sight with the man beneath you. While your eyes darken with lust, a clouded vision of Yoongi overcomes you ー his pupils shining with an otherworldly brilliance, a golden glare so intense that you fall prey to him every night.

Your sultry eyes are pleading for him to sink his teeth into your flesh, and who is Yoongi to deny you of all the finer things in life? He caresses your waist with a soft touch, gently squeezing at your sides as if he’s too afraid to let go, but Yoongi is vastly acute of all your reactions. So with the nod of your head and a whisper of affirmation, you confess that you want this ー him ー more than anything in the world.

Yoongi runs his tongue over the most sensitive parts of your neck, sucking on the prominent vein at the juncture of your shoulder. He slows down to massage his teeth into your skin, biting gently before piercing your jugular with his canine fangs. All the blood in your body rushes through your vessels, satiating Yoongi’s bloodlust thirst. You’re at a loss of breath, panting heavily as you overheat under the scope of his fiery glare and the electrifying graze of his extremities.

In any other lifetime, you would revolt at the sight of blood and its metallic taste, yet in this time and space, you would allow your best friend to do anything he pleases ー even if his greatest wish is to suck the life out of you. To Yoongi, your viscous blood is sickly sweet and beyond addicting. He doesn’t have a clue as to why he’d ever pick up another cigarette when you’re the only addiction he needs.

As the life drains out of you, one drop of blood at a time, you can feel yourself grow weaker in Yoongi’s arms. You fall limp, becoming a victim to his voracious fervor. But Yoongi understands your limits, being so in tune to your body, and he’s sure to stop before you descend into a comatose.

Your lungs are starting to cave inside of you as heavy sighs escape from your parted lips. Weakly tugging on the strands of Yoongi’s hair, you warn him of the dangerous territory he’s about to enter.

Yoongi suckles at your punctured skin, running his tongue over the point of contact before retracting his fangs and sealing the wound he had gouged with a kiss. He wipes his mouth clean of any residue with the back of his hand, whispering a thank you into the shell of your ear.

You nod your head and wrap your arms around Yoongi’s neck to catch your breath, barely even conscious of his soft coos and gentle caresses. Your head is spinning on an axis, but you allow yourself to fall deeper into Yoongi’s arms, fully knowing that he’s always going to be the one to catch you no matter what.

His sweet nothings reverberate around your skull ー a deep voice echoing like a polyphony, lulling you into your rapture. He brushes your hair back behind your head, and before you know it, your cheek is nuzzling into the cotton of the pillows as he lowers your body onto the firm mattress.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep for, but Yoongi’s delicate voice and quiet hushes bring you back to earth. You can feel his slightly chapped lips planting a kiss at the top of your temple and the soft tickle of his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Yoongi calls you by your name, fanning his breath over your plush cheeks until you stir back into reality. In your groggy state, your eyes unwillingly blink open, and although your vision is blurry, the sight of Yoongi and his precious smile is clear as day.

He helps you to sit up before passing you a glass of your favorite concoction. While you’re still stuck in a daze, your face instantly lights up at the sight of the tiny cocktail umbrella sitting at the rim of your cup.

“Small umbrellas bring big smiles,” he offers, “Drink up.”

It’s cheesy as hell, but you throw your head back to take a sip, making it all the more difficult for yourself when you can’t erase the larger than life smile from your lips. You’re instantly hit with the earthy taste of greens as there’s a mixture of kale, cucumber, and celery, but most importantly, Yoongi is sure to throw in a generous amount of spinach to replenish the iron that you’ve lost from his feasting. Even though most people would rather die than drink a blend of vegetables, you’re no stranger to Yoongi's Midas touch in the kitchen. He’s an expert when it comes to food, always going above and beyond without even trying. You can’t even fathom how a carnivore like him has gone as far as creating the perfect vegetarian steak as per your request – mentioned jokingly in passing, of course.

“You hungry?” He inquires.

You shake your head no, but he’s all ready to step back into the kitchen to prepare you a meal from the sparse ingredients in his low-humming fridge.

“Just want you beside me,” you pout, reaching for his hand, encouraging him to climb underneath the covers with you.

Yoongi gives into your wishes, interlacing his fingers with yours like it’s second nature. You lower your drink onto the stack of books designed to be a makeshift nightstand as he reaches for your paperback copy of Metamorphoses, lying precariously at the edge of the mattress. He settles beside you as you comfortably situate yourself across the bed, laying your head onto his lap and scrunching up into a fetal position.

Too wrapped up in your own world, you don’t seem to notice the presence of Yoongi’s ginger moggie until he’s curled up beside you, nudging at your bare arm, begging to be pet. You give into the scraggy feline, keeping busy, while Yoongi turns to your marked, dog ear page, finishing up Book IV with the story of Perseus and Andromeda.

Ideally, this is exactly how you want to spend the entirety of your Sundays. Although this is how your night always ends, it doesn’t always start off this way. Typically, you’re hanging around his apartment alone, pacing the age-old floorboards, biting your nails and waiting for Yoongi to arrive home safely from his lucrative hustle. You’d even chat it out with Yoongi’s kitten to keep your sanity intact, only to receive a hollow meow in return. Meanwhile, Yoongi spends his Sunday evenings doing all the things your parents warn you not to do. All in good faith, Yoongi earns some quick and dirty cash by participating in the underground street race scene. For you, it’s never been about the money, but more about his safety and wellbeing. And every week, with a few scratches in sight and give or take a couple of bruised knuckles, Yoongi returns home with a pocket full of cash like a double edged scheme. Regardless, you know for a fact that he does whatever he wants purely for his own happiness. It’s all for the cheap thrills, and if this is what he wants to do, who are you to stop him from doing so?

Yoongi rests his hand on top of yours to keep you safe when in reality, shouldn’t you be the one to do that to him? He’s reading the story out loud to you, and you’d probably never acknowledge this fact in the open, but in the repressed part of your subconscious, you’re more drawn to the deep lull of Yoongi’s voice than the enchanting story itself. The words go in through one ear, and out the other, but it’s not important because you’ve read this story at least a dozen times before. Instead, your attention is directed towards Yoongi and the subtle purse of his lips. Your eyes are fixated on the gentle slope of his rounded nose and the faint beauty mark that’s slightly off center.

It’s also hard to ignore the scar that cuts through the middle of his right eye. You don’t mean to stare, but it’s hard to believe that everyone perceives Yoongi as the tough guy because to you, he’s just… Yoongi.

Your Yoongi.

He’s the same guy who would save a stray kitten from the side of the road, befriending it and accepting it into his run down home despite the nasty claw mark that’s embedded into his face. And although Yoongi doesn’t have much to offer financially, he’d still give it his all to take care of the scruffy kitten. Per your informally formal one-woman petition, you’ve requested that Yoongi deem the domestic long-haired cat as San, and ever since then, he’s been inseparable with the little critter. It’s quite endearing to watch this man and his little bundle of sunshine cuddle like it’s nobody’s business or slow dance around the apartment with a cat in his arms in spite of his two left feet.

However, it’s upsetting how the rest of the world will never see the delicate side of your best friend in the same way you see him. Even now, as you lie in bed with him, fiddling with his pretty hands, you can never not think about how they fit perfectly between the spaces of your fingers, comforting you like no other man in your life could. You can’t even look at them without imagining how elegant they are when they’re dancing across the rusty and slightly out of tune grand piano in the corner of the room.

Even if his arms are inked in tattoos, the rest of the world will pay no mind to his gentle soul. They’ll take one look at Yoongi’s etched skin and write him off as the bad guy regardless of the faded heart that he wears on his sleeve.

“Remind me again why you like this stuff?” Yoongi wonders, placing the paperback face down on the bed. Your lack of attention causes him to call your name repeatedly until he finally resorts to poking at your sides.

“HUH?” You yelp, breaking out of your reverie, not fully comprehending anything he’s said in the last five minutes or so.

“Ovid.”

You lift yourself in an upright position, rolling your eyes at his blissful ignorance and lack of taste for Greco-Roman literature. “This is a relic of antiquity, and Ovid pretty much lays the groundwork for Shakespeare, bro. Pay some respect to his name.”

Yoongi breaks out in a smile at your term of endearment but shakes his head in utter disagreement. “You know I’m not a fan of Shakespeare,” he almost gags at the sound of his name. “I’ll admit that the dude has a way with words, and I applaud him for keeping up with the meter, but it’s just not my style.” Yoongi’s nose scrunches up in distaste, his eyes squinting shut.

“We literally wouldn’t have some of the greatest works known to humankind if Ovid didn’t exist.” Your arms run wild, waving in the air as if your points will come across stronger because of how manic you are. Perhaps you’re being a little too dramatic, but in your defense, Ovid is an absolute legend. “I mean think about it, we have The Tempest, Pygmalionー”

“Rousseau’s Pygmalion or Shaw’s Pygmalion?”

“To each one’s own, but you have to know that I’d pick Rousseau any day,” you shrug.

“Yeah, Shaw didn’t have that philosophical flavor, you know,” he chuckles. “I guess you have a point. Let’s not forget A Midsummer Night’s Dream though, a classic.”

An ear to ear grin spreads across your lips at the mention of one of your favorite works. You know that Yoongi is bringing it up for your sake more than his because of his strong hatred towards the brilliance that is Shakespeare. And you know for a fact that he likes A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but he’d never outrightly dare to admit how much he enjoys your book recommendations ー especially if they involve Shakespeare.

“I’m glad you see the error of your ways,” you smile smugly. “Besides, back to the point, Dickens was inspired by Ovid, and Oliver Twist is still your favorite novel.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, completely defeated by your argument. “Hey! That’s not fair now. It’s basically a social commentary about my life. C’mon, you’re gonna pull that card on me now?”

“Exactly, so you’re not giving him enough credit,” you plead with a pout. “We read this when we were in high school, but I think you’d really enjoy it if you gave it another shot.”

Yoongi bites his lips and picks up the book once again in hesitation, observing it from cover to cover. He plays with the myriad of pink post-it notes that protrude from the worn edges, flipping through the pages and thumbing through all of your annotations.

“Fine,” he grumbles, placing the book back onto his bed. “I’ll give it another try, and I’ll have a full, in-depth review ready for you by this weekend but... you have to come to my race on Sunday.”

“Are you serious?” You ponder over his proposition.

“Yep, that’s the deal.”

Although you’re still skeptical about Yoongi’s side hustle, you’d still support him no matter what (even if it’s in stubborn petulance). Shrugging your shoulders and saying “what the hell,” you give in to his proposal.

Yoongi flashes you his infamous gummy smile, and a warm, fuzzy feeling blooms in the center of your chest. Call it what you want ー elation, glee, fondness, tenderness, something entirely nuanced, or perhaps something above and beyond all of that. Regardless, it’s easy to shrug it off when the feeling comes and goes every so often.

And shrugging it off is what you do best.

Nevertheless, Yoongi’s willingness to appease you causes you to squeal and ramble on about how excited you are for his commentary. Your mouth is too busy running while Yoongi stumbles across his tiny studio, slipping on his shoes and shrugging on his army green utility jacket. He reaches for your outerwear and your white high tops while listening intently to your excitement about the activities you have planned for this Saturday. He hums in affirmation as he slides his hoodie over your raised arms and tugs the black material over your torso, getting you ready to sneak back into your parents’ home.

“Mmm,” he murmurs with a smile plastered on his lips, “Can’t wait, babe.” He tries to conceal his joy as he ducks his head down, sliding your Converse past your ankles and tying the shoelaces up for you.

With your grasp in his one hand and his car keys in the other, he ushers you out of his apartment and into his run-down 1986 Grandeur Azera. The neon green digital clock on his car radio taunts him, blinking every few seconds to count down the limited time he has left with you before kissing your cheek goodnight, or rather good morning, and sending you off to the sheltered life kept under wraps by your overprotective parents.

Yoongi tries not to think too much about the impermanence of the greatest things in his life as the slow burn of sunrise peeks over the horizon. Rather, he’s focused on how the car ride is filled with some of his favorite sounds ー the low hum of old school hip hop playing through his vintage radio and the ring of your laughter resounding over his stupid jokes.

The weekend rolls around quicker than you expect it to.

Days in the cul-de-sac are abnormally slow, especially when you’re in the midst of June. With each passing day, sunlight drags on a little longer because of the impending summer solstice. From the confinements of your window, it seems like all you ever do lately is watch the golden sun rise and set over the lake.

On occasions, your eyes are drawn to the far distance where there are freight trains that chug across the railroad at the crack of dawn. You can’t help but think about the places they’ll go and the things they’ll see in cities outside of your own.

In all honesty, you should probably do something more productive with your days. While everyone you know is complaining about work or studying for a degree they won’t ever use, you’re too busy studying the floor. And although daydreaming about the bright lights and city sounds is a way to kill the time, you’d much rather do it with Yoongi at your side.

Each second that you spend with him is more precious than the last. It’s hard to contain your excitement over the little things like movie nights at the drive in with him because it’s pretty much the highlight of your entire week, hence why you drop by his workplace extra early today – a whole hour before his shift ends.

Your presence is made known to the entire auto shop when the shout of your name is amplified throughout the garage. Of course, you catch Jimin and Taehyung dallying around before they even take notice of you standing in the doorway. They race over to engulf you in a hug, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

“Working hard or hardly working?” You giggle at the two boys.

Jimin lies through his teeth, as expected of him. “Working hard, of course.”

He grabs the mysterious, white paper box from your hands, curious as to what’s inside.

“Cupcakes? For me?” Taehyung asks with innocence in his eyes. He doesn’t even have to wait for your response because the two boys are already ravaging away at the sweet delectables.

Surely you had the boys in mind having stepped foot into the antique bakery shop earlier that day, hence the extras. But earnestly, out of the kindness of your heart, your primary goal is to surprise Yoongi with his favorite red velvet cupcakes. At the same time, you wouldn’t deny its leverage as a way to sway him and his opinions on the awe-inspiring Ovid.

“Don’t eat them all at once, okay?” You warn the boys before wandering off to find Yoongi.

You first expect him to be in his office, doing paperwork of some sort, so you make a beeline towards the backroom. However, there’s nothing in sight of his office beside his cold coffee perched at the edge of his desk. There are also scraps of yellow notepad paper with lyrics sprawled across the pages and a framed photo of the two of you. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but it’s still not what you’re quite looking for.

You make your way out of Yoongi’s office and down the hall, continuing your search for him. You come to a halt when your ears perk up at the sound of a kick drum and a bass guitar laying down the beats to an iconic Nas song. The faint sound of music slowly crescendos as you lead yourself to the source.

It should be no surprise to you that Yoongi is hot rodding his car and making last minute improvements for tomorrow’s race. Yet again, you find him with his head between the hood, either replacing the worn out brake pads or the loose fan belt (in which he’s shown you how to do a dozen times before).

Yoongi’s reactions might be a little slow for being a vampire considering he hasn’t acknowledged your presence just yet. Sometimes he’s a little short of hearing, especially when his radio is a tad too loud.

The only reason he turns around from the car is because his right hand man has gone unusually silent. Yoongi doesn’t even know how long it's been since you dismissed Namjoon, telling him that you’ve got it covered. Nevertheless, he’s grateful because he can indulge in endless discourse about Metamorphoses, his new favorite anthology, rather than botany which Namjoon never shuts up about.

Being so lost in conversation about literature, and with the cupcakes long forgotten, the two of you hardly even notice the time that’s gone by.

“Boss, we’re gonna clock out,” Namjoon interrupts the two of you.

“Clock out? Oh shit, what time is it?” A quarter to six.

“We’re gonna be late,” you worry.

Yoongi digs his hand into the pocket of his navy coveralls, dishing out a set of keys. He hands them over to Namjoon before coming to his senses, thereby chucking it to Jimin who is arguably more responsible.

“Don’t fuck up,” Yoongi warns them, albeit without any menace in his tone.

Yoongi tugs off his coveralls before grabbing your hand and heading towards his car, listening to the boys wolf whistle from behind him. He shrugs it off, but the smug grin he bites back says otherwise.

He opens the passenger door for you, allowing you to settle in first. Then he does a half run, half walk around the hood. Putting the car in reverse, Yoongi rests his hand behind your seat and throws his head over his shoulder. He drapes his wrist over the steering wheel and zips off into the quiet roads where you can both talk nonsensically as if there’s something to say.

Saturday evenings always start this way.

With two souls as hollow as the bottles you drain and a brown, paper bag full of snacks from the dingy 7-Eleven down the block, you and Yoongi would recline your seats far enough to comfortably watch the movie on the big projection screen.

This must be your week because not only does Yoongi confess his new found love for Greco-Roman literature, but he’s also willing to brave through a romantic melodrama with you ー A Walk to Remember, no less.

Yoongi takes a lot of pride in never having to cry, but this time around, he doesn’t hide the stray tear that rolls down his face. The crying quickly subsides, but still, he gladly accepts the tissue you offer him with no denial in his eyes.

While the end credits roll and everyone has a chance to exit out of the car park, Yoongi would feed you the remaining gummy worms until the bag empties out. Meanwhile, you’d feed him the rest of the chocolate you’d rather not eat. The two of you would also take the time to digest the movie ー tonight’s topic of discussion revolving around the fact that Jamie and Landon deserved better.

But once the coast is clear, your mouth always finds its way to his. And somehow, the two of you always end up undressed ー or at least with your pants pulled down to your ankles. Usually, it’s the both of you, but sometimes it’s one or the other. This time around, it’s just you.

Yoongi always knows how to take care of you, but there’s something telling you that tonight isn’t necessarily your night ー the need for an orgasm being his first priority but a second one for you.

“I wanna make you happy,” he pleads. A double entendre you fail to notice.

But no matter how blissful his lips feel against your cunt, you’re still hyper aware of how bloodthirsty he is at this moment.

He doesn’t even try to hide his enthusiasm as he laps his tongue around your entrance, licking up the residue you’ve pooled from your time of the month. His hunger is insatiable, and it’s evident from the way he puckers his lips around your clit, sucking on the tiny bundle of nerves.

His tongue delves between your folds, playing with your juices, and it’s absolutely intoxicating. Yoongi’s overgrown bangs are parted when your hands find their way to his hair. His line of sight no longer obstructed by his dark, gelled locks. Your breath hitches in your throat when Yoongi looks up at you ー his irises gleaming with gold.

A glob of spit forces its way down your dry throat as you try to overcome this heady feeling. Typically, you’re a woman of many words, but Yoongi obliterates every thought in your head with just a single swipe of his tongue against your heat. A string of curses warble from your throat as he’s relentless in his endeavor, pushing his tongue in and out of your walls, massaging the tender flesh until it's raw.

Your jaw falls slack as your mouth parts open to release a sigh. “Ngh, pl- please, Yoongi,” you stutter out.

“Mmm?” He hums against your folds, sending shivers up your spine.

Your thighs quiver as you fight the need to clamp your legs around Yoongi’s head, but he’s quick to spread them, wedging his tongue further into your tight hole. It’s slick with your arousal, and the squelch of your juices is amplified further with the intensity of Yoongi’s ravage.

You can feel yourself getting closer to your impending high as your walls clench tighter, but you take it like the good girl everyone knows you are. You’re overcome with desperation as your hips cant upwards, rutting yourself against his mouth. Yoongi flicks his tongue over your clit to coax you to your climax, stimulating the nub until whimpers escape from your pretty lips.

It feels as if you’ve lost all of your senses as you reach the edge of your release, pleasure rippling throughout your body. You can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, and you swear that you can see all of the stars in the night sky. Your chest heaves in an attempt to catch your breath, and your heart races as you descend from your high.

But as always, Yoongi is right there to catch you.

He licks his lips clean to collect every last drop of your sweet nectar. He presses a chaste kiss against your overly-sensitive clit before repositioning your underwear back into place. Then, he peppers kisses up your body and burrows his head into your neck, whispering sweet nothings against the column of your throat, revelling in the afterglow. Once your heavy breathing slows down and your heartbeat plateaus, Yoongi looks up at you with the pretty brown eyes you know and love. And although you’ve recovered from your high, your pussy no longer pulsating, the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest never dissipates.

Yoongi brushes his lips against yours before kissing you with fervor, saying all that needs to be said. Your mouths are having the unspoken conversation you’re too afraid to have when you’re both tongue-tied and trapped outside of your own mind. Whenever his lips meet yours, it feels as if the rest of the world is falling away at your feet. It’s comforting in a way that his words will never be.

But that’s okay because it’s precisely how you and Yoongi work.

He’ll hold you tight and kiss you goodnight, but you’ll just have to settle for that because the innermost part of your brain would rather wonder forever than know the disappointing truth about where you two stand.

You’re not quite sure why you haven’t been kicked out of the car park yet, but to be frank, you don’t really care and certainly neither does the security.

Yoongi is the first to break the comfortable silence. “You still coming to my race tomorrow?” His nose nudges against your cheek, and he lays a chaste kiss on your supple skin.

Your mouth presses together in a straight line as you contemplate your options. You’ve always been a little skeptical of his illegal pastimes granted that you’ve been raised to reprimand such activities all your life. But knowing Yoongi, you’d trust him with your heart and soul in his hands, and thus, you nod your head in agreement.

“Yeah, I’ll still come,” you shrug, humming in a low voice.

The two of you remain quiet in the backseat of his car, wrapped in the safety of one another’s arms, listening to the soothing melody that plays on the radio. Mindlessly, you trace the pretty ink on Yoongi’s forearms, running your finger over the ornamental designs.

“Is this new?” Your movements come to a halt upon spotting a piece of ink you’ve never noticed before.

Jamais seule written in a simple, fine line ink.

“Huh?” He asks, looking down at his wrist. “Oh yeah, Jeongguk did a custom for me earlier this week.”

In an attempt to hide your smile, you nestle your head into the crevice of his neck.

“What’re you smiling for?” A grin creeps onto his lips, but Yoongi doesn’t even need to ask because he knows better than anyone.

It’s just another reason to add to the list as to why there’s nobody in this world you’d rather be with than your best friend. At the thought of the tattoo, memories begin to flood your mind:

“Conjugate the verb parler in the imperfect tense.”

Yoongi refuses to answer the question. “Are you as hungry as I am?”

“Uhm, no? Yoongi, can you justー”

“My coffee’s getting cold. Do you want another cup?” Yet another excuse.

Your mouth opens up to refute, but he’s already on his feet, heading towards the coffee station at the corner of the cafe. Your hands cup around the mug that he’s left on the table, and you’re not surprised that the ceramic is relatively warm against your palms.

After spending the last hour studying for tomorrow’s French exam, you would have thought you’d make a breakthrough with Yoongi. But time and time again, he refuses to cooperate with you.

You don’t even know why he bothers returning to his seat when he doesn’t even care to study.

You let out a huff in another attempt to get him to learn. “Okay, let’s try this one more time. Can you conjugate the verb parler in the imperfect tense?”

“The coffee here is good, no?” Yoongi takes a sip from his mug once again, observing the hot liquid slosh around. The only thing he’s committed to is tiptoeing around his responsibilities (as well as his feelings, but that’s a whole other conversation).

“Look, I’m trying to help you study. If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. But if you want me to stay, then can you please focus and pay attention?” To no avail, Yoongi doesn’t respond.

“… Do you understand me?”

He doesn’t understand you. In fact, he’s on his phone, texting away and paying no mind to what you have to say.

“Bro, are you even listening to me?” You enunciate again with a scowl on your lips. Your jaw tightens as you pull out your own phone, angrily typing away at the keyboard.

You (1m ago): Yoongi, I want to help you study, so if you don’t want me here, I’ll go. But if you want me to stay, then can you focus and pay attention?? Please?? Do you understand me??

Yoongi (now): 🥺

Yoongi pouts and looks up from his device with sadness in his eyes. “I understand,” he mumbles under his breath. He finally puts his phone into the pocket of his hoodie and opens up his textbook, taking one step in the right direction.

You can’t say you didn’t try unlike all of your high school teachers. They’ve practically given up on the boy, seeing that he hasn’t shown up to class as he should. And when he does, he’s keeping it lowkey in the back of the classroom, sticking his nose in a new novel each week or scribbling away in his black, leatherbound journal. You’re not even sure how you got Yoongi to sit down with you knowing that he’s hard to get a hold of. But really, you’re just unaware that he’s afraid, always running away in the face of uncertainty.

Not even ten minutes go by before Yoongi is finding another excuse to fool around. It’s a whole new record, and you’re pretty proud of his accomplishment nevertheless.

“I’m sick of studying,” he groans with slumped shoulders.

“How can you be sick of studying? In the last hour, I’ve watched you make coffee and spin your textbook on your finger as if it’s a basketball.”

Yoongi’s lips press together in a straight line, but there’s no denying your observations.

“You’ve also tried to convince me that Tupac is the Mozart of our time. It’s not that I’m disagreeing with you, don’t get me wrong, but which part of this consummates studying?” You query with furrowed brows.

“Tell you what, let’s make a deal, okay?”

You shake your head at the thought of his proposal. “Oh, so you’re gonna bargain with me now?” Your voice is filled with exasperation.

“What do you think about ice cream?”

“What’s not to like about it?” Your arms cross over your chest as you lean back in your chair.

A wide, gummy smile spreads across Yoongi’s lips. “If we take an ice cream break, I swear that we’ll come back and study.”

A sigh falls from your lips because you’re not totally convinced, yet you ponder over the proposition. “I really doubt that you can keep your worー”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” He mimics the motion by tracing his finger over his chest. “I’ll even drive,” he adds.

Your eyes squint, still uncertain.

“I’ll treat you,” he offers.

“Min Yoongi, you are one convincing dude,” you chuckle.

Closing your textbook and gathering all of your belongings, you chuck them in the backseat of Yoongi’s car and head off to the ice cream parlor.

You make it just in time before closing, being the last two customers in store that they have to kick out. While you pick a flavor as peculiar as butter pecan, Yoongi decides on a fruity flavor ー orange to be precise. The two of you enjoy your dessert, licking away at the sugary mess before it has the chance to melt onto the black, leather interior of his car.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” You pry, looking over at Yoongi.

“Shoot.”

“Why is it that you’re flunking when you’re smarter than 90% of the people at our school?”

“Ah,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “It takes more than intelligence to act intelligently.”

You scoff in rebuttal. “Seriously? You can quote Dostoevsky word for word, and I’m sure you can recite the entirety of Crime and Punishment in your sleep.”

You can see him shrug his shoulders out of the corners of your eyes. “I really don’t see the point when I’m not going to go to college.”

“Okay, so what’s your big dream, then?” You ask with worry laced in your tone.

“I don’t think you necessarily need to have a big dream.”

A drop of your ice cream melts onto your hand, and you’re quick to wipe it away. You’re shocked to hear what he has to say because everyone in this deadbeat town has a dream. It usually involves getting away from said deadbeat town. “Okay, enlighten me then?”

“You just need to be happy.” He’s stoic in his response.

“Are you happy?” You ask. It’s a loaded question.

He shrugs.

It’s quiet.

Moments go by.

Yoongi’s the first one to break the comfortable silence. “They’re flunking me because I’m truant. I work in the auto shop outside of town, so when I’m not in school, I’m picking up extra shifts there. It doesn’t pay a lot, but it’s enough to keep me alive, you know? It’s enough to cover the car too.”

Another drop of ice cream melts onto your wrist. You don’t fail to notice the fact that he hasn’t addressed your question. “But are you happy? Is this what you want?” You try again.

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, pondering. “I’ve always thought about doing this, but... I want to drive out to L.A. and take my chance at music production or something.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Sorry, it sounds stupid, I know.”

A fond smile makes its way onto your face. “I think that’s so cool,” you reassure him.

He cocks his head to the side as he tries to hide the smile that mirrors yours, but you can see his hard exterior break down before your very eyes. Nobody has ever believed in him the way that you do.

His eyes sparkle in the moonlight as if the galaxy lays dormant in his lonely irises. “... But the thing is, I don’t know if I want to be out and about in this world alone.”

You’ve never seen Yoongi so vulnerable before, and you never thought you’d have the chance to see it. So you comfort him in the way that you know best.

“Jamais seule,” you offer in consolation.

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“Jamais seule,” you repeat once again, placing your hand on his shoulder. “It’s French for ‘never alone.’”

He chuckles at your explanation. “Are you trying to make this a teaching moment?”

You nod your head in response, a proud smile making its way onto your lips.

“Okay, then what about you, huh?” He inquires. “What’s your big goal then?”

“Me?”

He nods his head. Of course he’s talking to you, but you’re taken aback because nobody’s ever really taken interest in what it is that you want to do.

“Realistically, I guess I’d be a teacher? When I was younger, I was thinking about doing dance, but I think I should specialize in French or maybe even English? I want to learn other languages too, but I’m not totally sure if I can make a career out of it.” Your nose scrunches up at the uncertainty.

Yoongi orients his body towards yours, taking in your profile. “Fuck that. Learn all of the languages you want to learn, okay? But tell me what it is that you really want to do now, unrealistically speaking.”

You look over at him, and your heart swells up inside your chest. A warm, fuzzy feeling overtakes you as you brace yourself to share this part of your life because honestly, you’ve never admitted it out loud to anyone before in part because nobody has ever bothered to ask or even care in the way that Yoongi does.

“I want to be a flight attendant.” It almost feels as if a weight has been lifted off of your chest as you heave out a sigh. “I want to see other countries, experience different cultures, and meet new people. I just want to see what the world is like outside of this town, you know?”

“I know,” he mouths. His gummy smile resurfaces on his lips as he nods his head, listening to you speak so passionately about your dreams. “I think you’d make the best flight attendant in the whole world.”

In the entire cosmos, there’s a short list of things that you genuinely love. One being the delicacy of antique books, worn and torn with age, brimming with the faded passages of time, two being chips and guac, the magic elixir to instant happiness, and three being Min Yoongi.

It should be no surprise to you that you’d do anything in the world for your best friend, but hanging around the dirt drag to watch tonight’s race is the last thing you would ever expect.

As you approach the spectator crowd, the smell of burnt rubber and seared tarmac infiltrates your senses. There’s a cloud of smoke rings floating around you while the people huff and puff on their Newports and Marlboros. Some of them even offer you a lighter, but you politely decline.

It’s pretty obvious that you don’t fit into this scene. You’ve never even shown your face in this part of town before, but everyone else seems to know one another relatively well, hanging out on the hood of their cars and getting drunk off bottles of Smirnoff.

“Hey, princess, take a shot with us why don’t ya?” Someone whistles.

You turn your head to the side, only to find a group of girls eyeing you from head to toe. “No thanks, I’m good,” you offer with a timid voice, shrinking away at their electrifying gaze.

Yoongi pulls you closer to his side, wrapping his arm around your waist and squeezing his fingers into your hip bones. His eyes glimmer with gold as he shoots daggers at the group of girls.

“Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know, okay? Stick with Hobi,” he whispers to you through gritted teeth.

It’s not long before you come across Hoseok, socializing with a group of people who appear to be crossfaded. Yoongi pats him on the back, drawing his attention away from the dead end conversation.

“Hey!” Hoseok shouts with enthusiasm. He wedges himself between you and Yoongi, resting his arms around both of your shoulders. He turns your attention away from the group of people he was once conversing with, walking in the opposite direction. But once you step far away enough, out of reach from the crowd, Hoseok sighs in relief.

“Thank God for saving me, I literally don’t know how much longer I can talk to them for,” he shakes his head and rolls his eyes in spite of the happy-go-lucky personality you’re so familiar with.

The blare of an air horn cuts through the bustling night, indicating that the race is soon to start. Yoongi cups his hand around Hoseok’s ear to tell him something in secret, and in response, he nods his head in affirmation.

Yoongi turns to you and flashes his sweet smile. “When I win, I’ll treat you to whatever you want, okay? Ice cream? Pizza? Tom kha gai from that Thai place you like? Name it and it’s yours.” Yoongi walks backward to take one last glance at you before tugging his headset over his ears and running off to the direction of his car.

You smile to yourself as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest begins to bloom once again.

You shout “good luck” to him as he steps away, but you know for a fact that he can’t hear you. He doesn’t need the luck anyways.

Hoseok taps on your shoulder, gathering your attention to lead you to the frontlines where you have a good view of the action. He fiddles with the device in front of him, tuning his CB radio, twisting the dial back and forth to find the right frequency.

“Agust D, this is J-Hope, OVER.” Hoseok shouts into his intercom with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Dude, we’re not gonna do this,” Yoongi complains through the static of the speakers. You can’t help but giggle at his response. It’s very characteristic of Yoongi, and you can already imagine the creases forming at the corner of his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Your eyes look over towards the two approaching cars, one of them being the black and yellow Grandeur Azera you know so well. Yoongi and his opponent toe their tires to the starting line, making sure it’s a fair game.

The host speaks through his megaphone, but it’s hard to hear over the screaming crowd. His words are muffled, and it’s nearly indecipherable, but he’s most likely explaining the rules and safety to everyone, or at least you hope he is.

Yoongi, being the cocky bitch he is, revs his engine over the voice of the announcer. Through his rolled down windows, you can see him tap his fingers over his mouth to let out a dramatic yawn. He even checks the time on his watch just to show off.

You shake your head at his overwhelming pride, and just in time, he looks over at you to send a wink. Despite the roll of your eyes, you can’t hide the heat that rushes to the apples of your cheeks.

The countdown begins as the announcer yells through his megaphone. The crowd amplifies his voice as they count alongside him. The two cars rev their engines, and it’s deafening to your sensitive ears.

An overwhelming sense of nervousness rushes through your veins, but you squeeze onto Hobi’s arm to anchor yourself. The thought of Yoongi getting into a fatal accident crosses your conscience, but you quickly wipe the image away from your mind. You trust Yoongi, and there’s nobody in the world who does it better than him.

In the blink of an eye, you nearly miss the cars zipping off into the dead of the night, too lost in your thoughts.

Looking over Hoseok’s shoulder, you can see the red and green dots floating across the monitor, the green symbol representing Yoongi’s GPS signal as he zips around the circumference of town. All the red symbols show the police hotspots within a 10 mile radius.

“Yoongi, right turn in 3 blocks,” Hoseok says into the intercom. According to the police scanner, the cops are too close for comfort.

“Yep, gotcha.” Yoongi’s voice sounds faded through the speakers.

In hopes of clearing the static, Hoseok fiddles with the dials. “What the fuck? I’m losing you.”

Panic rises to your chest as you watch the green dot speed across town, driving in close proximity to the law enforcement. Even worse, you’re losing communication with him. It’s nothing but static.

Hoseok slaps the radio in rage, but of course, nothing happens. “What the hell’s going on?” He even rips out the batteries and puts it back into the device to no avail. He looks over at you as if you have the answers, but you’re rendered useless when your mind draws a blank.

Hoseok pulls your hand away from your mouth, not even realizing that you’ve been chewing on your nails all this time.

“Well shit, now what?”

“Hope and pray?” He shrugs.

At the sound of his words, your heart drops to your stomach.

Your hands begin to tremble as you monitor the screen. He’s cutting close to the finish line, but you have no eyes on his opponent. Meanwhile, the cops are spreading across the map, probably searching for the source of the disturbance.

Yoongi has yet to be caught, but he’s smart enough to maneuver through the backroads he knows better than anyone ー the ones he’s practically grown up on.

The green dot races across the screen, coming closer and closer to your marked location. The boisterous rev of an engine can be heard within earshot, so your attention shifts to the far end of the dirt path. Your heart pounds against your ribs as you cross your fingers, praying and hoping that Yoongi is the one who’s returning to you.

The lack of street lights makes it difficult to see down the cloudy road, but you never seem to give up, leaning over the makeshift barrier and tiptoeing above the crowd.

The sound of the engine elevates as the frontliner approaches. Your attention focuses on the two tiny, bright lights emerging from the distance. However, your vision is blurred as the two lights diverge into four. Another car follows behind it, charging full speed towards the finish line. Your hands squeeze around Hoseok’s wrist as the two of you anxiously wait to see the winner. The headlights illuminate at a greater lux as it speeds down the path. You begin to squint, trying to adjust your eyes to the light to make out the license plate number or at least something that’s telling of who the lead driver is.

But fear not, because a sigh of relief escapes from your lungs as the yellow detailings on the infamous Grandeur Azera is within sight. Yoongi crosses the finish line with full speed, and the crowd erupts in a roar.

He decelerates before coming to a full stop. There’s a haze of dust that trails behind his car, and a silhouette of a figure emerges from the smoke. It’s none other than Yoongi who trudges out of the car, and it’s unmistakable from his golden glare which shines through the exhaust.

You let go of Hoseok’s wrist in favor of racing towards Yoongi to wrap him up in the safety of your arms. He immediately reciprocates and melts into your embrace. He squeezes you tightly around your torso, and you fall further into his arms. Your nose presses against his shoulder, burrowing your head against the crook of his neck.

You chuckle through the stray tear that rolls down your cheek and onto the green denim of his jacket. “You idiot, you love scaring the life out of me, huh?”

Yoongi pulls away from you to cup your cheeks, angling your face so that he can gaze into your eyes. His irises slowly revert back to the shade of brown you’ve come to love. He wipes away the tears streaming down your cheeks and tucks a tendril of hair behind your ear.

“Iー” He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but he decides against it. Instead, his lips come crashing down onto yours, kissing you as if it’s his last breath.

“Care to explain what that was all about?” You slam the door shut behind you.

Yoongi refuses to answer.

The air doesn’t feel clear between the two of you, and it hasn’t ever since the kiss. It feels off. Tense, even. As a matter of fact, it’s been unusually quiet since the car ride home.

Your head has been spinning round and round because Yoongi never acts like this. Whatever it is that goes on between the two of you doesn’t go beyond the confinements of these four, egg white walls (with the exception of his car, of course).

But bottom line: It’s an unspoken rule that whatever happens between you stays between you.

Yoongi is sullen in his contemplation. He kicks off his boots, trudging into his apartment with heavy feet as if he’s a teenager ridden with angst. You would think that he’s retired from the days when he keeps to himself and feeds the world with the “I’m misunderstood” bullshit as some lame excuse. But yet again, he’s crawling back into the shell of the man he once was.

He chooses to ignore the obvious problem as he shrugs off his jacket and switches out one t-shirt for another. You hate the idea of him going to bed upset, but no matter how much you try to get him to talk, you’re left with utter silence.

Being tired and frustrated of his lack of communication, you decide to stand up from the edge of the mattress, plodding through the creaky floorboards to stand before Yoongi. You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, but his glassy eyes avert yours, looking anywhere but at you. All you can see is the faint beauty mark on the side of his nose, but never in your life did you think that you’d frown at the sight of it.

You opt for getting his attention by wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head against his bare chest, listening to the violent storm that pulses beneath the shell of your ear.

His arms hang by his side. You squeeze him a little tighter, and he huffs out a sigh, falling prey to your touch. Your cheek is pressed tighter against his chest as he envelops you in a hug. His fingers trail up and down your spine in an effort to comfort you, but really, it’s more appeasing to him than to you knowing that you’re within arms reach.

“They tapped into my radio.” His voice cuts through the quiet air.

You swallow down the knot in your throat as you listen to his every word.

“God, they said some fucked up shit to me.” His hands clench tighter against the cotton of your t-shirt, and you can hear his heart pound harder against his chest.

A painful sigh escapes from your lips as you listen to the tremble of his voice. “Whatever they say isn’t true, you know?” You offer in consolation, “They don’t know you like I do.”

“It wasn’t even about me, ughー They were talking about you, and... fuck, Iー” Yoongi fights against the tears that are threatening to spill, the frustration evident in his tone.

Your heart shatters at the sound of his broken voice. “Yoongi, people are gonna talk, and nothing they say will ever matter, so just let ‘em talk.”

Your words ring through his ear as he harshly swallows a glob of spit down his throat. He thinks to himself in silence, wondering whether or not his words will ever matter to you.

“Can I tell you something?” He pulls away from you to take a better look at your expressions.

“Yeah, of course, anything,” you knit your eyebrows together and nod your head in solace.

Yoongi walks backwards until the back of his knees knock against the edge of his bed, allowing you to climb onto his lap, mounting his thighs with one leg on either side. He licks his lips to ease his nerves, anxiety bubbling up to the surface. His hands get clammy as he rests them on the curve of your waist.

But all of that dissipates once he fixates his attention on your eyes.

It feels as if you two are in your own little world together while everyone else dances around in the ruins of their dreams.

His eyes soften and a shy smile spans across his lips. “I love you.”

You’re taken aback by his confession, almost as if you didn’t hear him correctly granted his low murmurs. Your mouth hangs open, jaw slack. Your eyes blink, stunned by what you may or may not have heard.

It takes four and half seconds for you to register that ー holy shit ー did he just say what you think he just said?

“What’d you say?” Your brows knit together and your forehead creases asking for the much needed confirmation.

“You really want me to say it again?” He’s bashful as he hides his rosy cheeks in the crevice of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“Say it again,” you encourage. Your face starts to ache with the beaming smile painted across your lips.

Yoongi’s mouth curls into a smile to mimic yours as he peppers kisses against the column of your throat. He repeats his words once again, each syllable caught between a featherlight kiss.

“Iー” His lips ghost against your jaw.

“Loveー” Onto your chin.

“You.”

His soft eyes flash open to gawk at your lips, waiting for permission to kiss you where he so desperately wants to. He blinks, looking up to peer into the depths of your soul through the gateway of your irises. You can see the whirl of emotions in his eyes, a mixture between elation and tenderness and everything in between.

But above all, you can see the love.

A shy look is exchanged before you flutter your eyes close and lean forward to hesitantly brush your lips against his, testing the waters. But once he melts into your touch, you dive into the deep end, firmly committing to your desires.

It takes another half second for you to register that ー holy fucking shit ー you’re actually kissing the love of your life.

Although you are no stranger to Yoongi’s lips, something about this feels different. Yet again, you’re drunk off serotonin and intoxicated by his fiery touch. The world around you disappears alongside your worries and your troubles. All of your feelings, your emotions, your secrets, and all of your wishes are laid bare before you.

But what’s different about this kiss is that for the first time in your life, you know for a fact that this is what love is supposed to be.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you finally confess with your whole chest. Tears begin to form in your eyes and a smile that’s larger than life spreads across your lips, bringing pains and aches to your cheeks. But nevertheless, it’s all worth it because Yoongi loves you and you love him.

It doesn’t even register in your head that your back is now flat against the mattress, nor do you register the embarrassing amount of slick that has pooled at your entrance. At least not until Yoongi presses his fingers against the slim cotton of your underwear, teasing your folds with the glide of his calloused fingers.

“You’re wet already?”

You mewl upon his comment. “Can’t help it.”

Yoongi tugs off your shorts with your underwear in tow. His mouth reconnects with yours in longing, and his lips taste exactly like blackberries, bay leaves, and blissful midnights blanketed underneath the stars.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you shudder under his touch as he grazes over your clit. His finger dips between your folds, collecting your arousal before rubbing soothing circles over your sensitive nub. Your heavy eyelids fall close, and Yoongi watches your face contort in pleasure, your eyebrows creasing together.

Growing restless of his teasing, you lurch forward to palm the tent in his pants. You will yourself to open your eyes just the slightest bit.

“Hard already?” You tease with raised brows.

“Can’t help it,” he echoes.

You pull on the fabric of his jeans, begging him to remove the material from his legs. He obliges while you strip your top off.

At the sight of your bare breasts, Yoongi’s lips find its way to your pert nipples, hallowing his cheeks and sucking on the tender flesh until the blood rushes to the surface of your skin. His hand trails its way down your body, dipping two fingers into your tight hole, pumping in and out to massage your walls.

A thick glob of saliva forms in the back of your throat, and you sputter it into the palm of your hands. Reaching down for Yoongi’s shaft, you jerk him off exactly how he likes it. Your thumb traces over the tip of his cock, swiping over the slit as he leaks beads of precum.

Yoongi sighs as you work faster, milking him for all of his worth. He grips his hand around your wrist to slow down your movements, wanting to change it up. Instead, he trails kisses up your body until he’s hovering over your lips.

“Don’t wanna come like this,” he says with a heavy sigh.

His hand replaces yours as he pumps his length and lines it up at your entrance.

You brace yourself by squeezing your hands around his shoulders, clinging on to him for dear life. He pushes his member one inch at a time until your fingernails dig into his supple skin, dragging him down to meet your lips.

A gasp falls from your throat as the angle changes, and he pushes deeper inside of you.

“Oh, fuck,” you quiver.

Yoongi lays a kiss upon your cheek before meeting your eyes once again. “You okay?”

“Better than okay,” you nod.

A blinding smile makes its way to Yoongi’s lips and you can’t help but reciprocate. He pushes his length further until he’s balls deep, his pelvis pressed up against yours.

You throw your head back against the mattress, exposing the blank canvas of your neck. For a second, his eyes are gilded with gold, but it quickly regresses. His tongue runs over his bottom lip before languidly licking a stripe up the side of your neck. He suckles on your skin until it discolors, leaving behind a love bite that’s none other than a mark of his love.

As you finally adjust to the thick stretch of Yoongi’s cock, you start to fidget, rutting your hips against his.

“Yoongi, please move,” you cry out, wrapping your legs around the small of his waist. And you swear you could physically cry in this very moment.

At your request, his hips begin to thrust, fucking himself into your wanting pussy. With the drag of his dick, you can feel every inch of him move inside of you. Your walls contract and mold against his shaft, his balls slapping against the curve of your ass. The filthy sounds fill the tiny space of his studio apartment, as does the squelches of your arousal.

Yoongi bites his lip as he relishes this very moment. The way you look beneath him, taking his cock like a good girl, fucked out and in total bliss as a dribble of spit cascades down your lips. He tucks his hand underneath your chin to wipe away at the saliva, only to fall back down into a plank position.

Your chest heaves and your head lolls to the side. You can hardly see through your eyelids which are falling shut, but somehow, you resist, seeing the pretty ink that’s engraved into Yoongi’s skin. The most prominent one ー and also the newest addition to his sleeve ー being at eye level. Leaning over the slightest bit, you press your lips against the simple, fine line ink.

A fire within Yoongi is ignited upon your action. His hips begin to stutter, reaching close to the end of his release. He sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on the digits until they’re nice and wet. His hand trails a path down your body, only to find its way to your clit. It’s hot and slick down there, especially with the newly added pressure.

A series of moans tumble from your lips as he relentlessly rubs harsh circles onto your nub.

“Oh my god, Yoongi ー Yeah, just like that,” you whimper when the tip of his cock pushes against your cervix. Your eyes are starting to water at the immense amount of pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach.

��Like what?” He smirks, “Like that?”

His thrusts are harder as he quickens the pace. Your body drifts further up the mattress with the force of his hips and your arms wrap around his upper torso to keep yourself anchored. Your fingernails scratch the surface of his skin, leaving behind a trail of red marks down his back.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Yoongi, Iー” A strangled noise escapes from your parted lips.

“Yes, baby? You can come for me.” The soft coo against your ear contrasts against the harsh slap of his hips, sending you further into your release.

“Yoongi… I- I love you,” you manage to sputter out, albeit weakly from the current, fucked out state that you’re in.

At the sound of your confession once again, Yoongi grunts harshly, his breath fanning across your face. His cock grinds harder against your cervix as he chases your high.

The knot in the pit of your stomach unfurls with a harsh thrust, and you dissolve into pleasure. Your walls clench around his dick which continues to pound into you. Your body heats up and your heart races a hundred beats per second as waves of bliss come crashing through you.

Yoongi molds his lips against yours, kissing you with ardor. As you tremble beneath him, your vision starts to blur and your eyelids fall shut, yet with a few more pumps, Yoongi is releasing himself inside of you, painting your inner walls white with his cum. He collapses on top of you, chest heaving.

Your pussy is bare and battered, but you wouldn’t have it any other way with sticky thighs and Yoongi’s pulsating cock inside of you.

The two of you lie down together in the safety of one another’s arms in an attempt to catch your breath. Your fingers run through his raven locks as he rests his head against your chest, listening to the come down of your beating heart.

In the dead of the night, the air in this tiny space is quiet and still while every other deadbeat in this town runs rampant in the world, yet you wouldn’t have it any other way as long as you are never alone.

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worksby-d · 2 years ago

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Hey Destinee. I hope you’re doing well. I just have to vent about something real quick to someone. So, my grandmother passed away 2 days ago, not to trauma dump or make things awkward, but it’s relative to what im sharing. And the day I found out, I ended up having to cancel some plans and consequently tell my friends about it, since I had to cancel some stuff. Anyway, most of my friends have been super supportive and sweet, reaching out to me and seeing if I needed anything. Except for this one girl. The day it happened, she said she was sorry, and then went right back to normal conversation. Like she’s been texting me about being excited about moving into her new apartment and she’s pissed about stuff that she has to do for her apartment and I’m like…hello?? Are you tone-deaf? Do you really think I care about or wanna hear about this shit right now? She hasn’t even asked if I was okay or if I needed anything. It’s not like I expect her to send me a box of fucking chocolates or come to my house while I cry…but talking about all the stuff that’s going on in your life after I JUST shared that my close relative died?? Cmon now. And it’s not that I think she’s a bad person or a bad friend, she can just be extremely ignorant and sometimes selfish. She was raised as an only child and had pretty ‘well off’ parents and sort of had everything handed to her I guess. But she’s a genuinely sweet person and I honestly believe that if she knew she was upsetting me, she’d feel terrible about it and apologize. I just don’t want to bring it up bc I don’t want to make things awkward and I have too much going on rn to worry about arguing with a friend. You know? Anyway, it’s just annoying cause I honestly think I’m a pretty good friend and I pride myself on how I treat my friends, and it’s frustrating when you don’t get the same treatment back that you would give to others. But thanks for your time and letting me vent to this weird tumblr void haha❤️

hi!! oh my, first off, i'm so sorry to hear that :( my grandma passed away last month and it was the hardest thing i've ever gone through, so i hope you're taking care of yourself and continue having good support <3 but that's very strange your friend is doing that. but i think i agree, she probably doesn't realize :(((( i think if it's something you haven't gone through it's kinda hard to comprehend. i've probably done that to people if i think back lol :/ but it's super draining and you're valid for feeling upset about it :(

#reginaphalange2403 #answered

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years ago

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KinkToberFest Fic Collection #2🔥🔥/🔥🔥🔥

Title: Electrifying {🔥🔥 To 🔥🔥🔥}

Thor x Reader {One-Shot}

Warning: SMUT, NSFW,Electro-Stimulation (E-Stim) & Exhibitionism

Word Count: 3.1K

Note: Next up, we have the our favorite electric God. This is also first so, fingers crossed this captures him. FOLLOW THE RATING UP TOP. I kinda really like this concept this may pop up again sometime in the future.

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been six months since you’d seen him. Six long months. Six months of all work and no play. Six months of overworking yourself so you had no free time to miss him. He said he had to go back to Asgard on a mission. That mission that was supposed to be a week at most but ended up stretching longer than that. What was worse was that it was six months of no contact. That is what drove you crazy; you didn’t know if he was hurt, in trouble, trapped, locked up, nothing. There was no news. Why would there be? He was an Asgardian; it’s not like they had intergalactic and dimensional news that played highlights.

“Hello, earth to Y/N!”

You shook your head and looked to your friends who were staring at you. The boom of the music at the club you were at brought you back to where you were.

“What?”

“We’ve been calling your name for like a full minute,” Katy rang back.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

“No, shit. Where were you?” You looked around at your three friends as they studied you waiting for an answer. Finishing your drink, you shrugged.

“Nowhere, just thinking about something from work,” you lied.

Melody groaned loudly as she rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. She didn’t believe you and probably saw right through you. Out of her, Katy and Destinee, you and her were the closest. You told her damn near everything, including your relationship with him. Melody changed the subject and brought everyone’s attention to a group of guys across the club at the bar who were watching. After deciding on a plan of action everyone went into motion executing it. Katy and Destinee stood and began dancing with each other to the sultry music playing throughout the club. You and Melody sat closely and whispered as she looked over to them giving them a suggestive look that said, “come hither.”

Like clockwork, the four guys stood and sauntered over. Part of you felt like you were being unfaithful to him. Like you were disrespecting his memory, disrespecting your relationship. You almost laughed out loud. You didn’t even know if you had a relationship. You had two months of bliss, two months of laughter, two months of normalcy away from everything and every one, two months of toe-curling, back-arching love. Or you’d thought it was love. The longer he was away without even a carrier pigeon to you had you second guessing whatever it was you thought you’d felt. Maybe you didn’t mean anything to him.

“Hi, I’m Parker.” You looked into the hazel eyes of one of the guys who’d just came over and smiled back at him.

“Hi, Y/N.” Parker smiled and shook your hand before placing a semi-wet kiss to the back of your hand. Cheesy, you thought, but he was cute enough to get away with it.

For the next thirty minutes or so, you and Parker sat and whispered together. He spit his best game and said all the right things and even was bold enough to place a hand on your knee and at the back of your neck, and even brushing your hair away from your face. He was doing all the right things. You didn’t get a bad vibe at all, but one thing was off. He wasn’t him—Thor.

Melody could see your lackluster disposition with Parker, and she knew you were not into him. After exchanging an all-knowing glance with you, she nodded.

You spent another hour at the club, dancing, drinking, and chopping it up with your friends and the guys trying their best to be the ones they went home with tonight. By the time you all said your goodbyes at the front of the club it was nearing two in the morning, and the air smelled sweet and pungent; you could feel a storm brewing. You could always smell when it was going to rain, but this oncoming storm felt different, smelled different.

You said bye to your friends and got into a cab more than ready to climb into bed. The drive was a relatively quick one because, at two in the morning, the traffic in the city was almost nonexistence. You saw the sky slightly light up behind the dark rolling clouds with the distant flashes of lighting. You couldn’t help but think of him and wish he were there.

Suddenly a loud clap a thunder boomed. It was loud enough to set off every car alarm around you, but the alarms couldn’t compete with the sound of the thunder or the bright burst of lighting that decorated the sky. The taxi driver swerved to a halt in an effort to avoid cars that were also doing the same thing. Once it was safe, you stepped out the car, and in the distance, you could see a concentrated beam of lighting stream down to the ground. Your eyes widened, and your heart stopped.

“Thor,” you whispered.

You quickly handed the driver a twenty and rand down the street. You were only five blocks from home and knew you could make it there quicker on foot than waiting in the backup the thunder and lightning show created. After two blocks, you regretted running in your heels, your feet hurt, and you were beginning to sweat.

As you rounded the corner onto your street, you ran up to the door of your duplex and quickly made it inside. You looked around and checked each room. You didn’t know what you expected to find or who you expected to find. By the time you made it upstairs to check your office and then bedroom you breathed out and leaned against the wall. He wasn’t here. Disappointment filled you, and you fought off the tears threatening to spill over.

After a few minutes, you pulled yourself together and got into the shower. You needed some downtime in the worst way; you could feel the tension in your muscles and shoulders. You began to feel foolish for hoping, foolish for thinking it was him. Once you wrapped yourself in your silk robe you walked back downstairs and nearly fell flat on your ass when you saw him sitting in one of the recliner leather chairs. He was decked out in his God of Thunder garb.

“Y/N.” the sound of his voice made your knees weak, and you gripped the stair railing and pressed your free hand to your abdomen.

“Hello.”

You bit your bottom lip, unable to speak. When he stood, you followed his movements as he walked around the living room to come to stand before you. He was as tall as every and as brawny as the day you last saw him. He was gorgeous. You licked your lips as his hand reached out and touched your cheek. Just like that you were weak, and you threw yourself onto him pressing your face onto his chest. Thor wrapped his massive arms around your body and just held you. Without even knowing it your tears fell freely; they weren’t sad tears or even angry ones. They were grateful ones, tears that spoke of your relief.

“I am here, my love.” You looked up into his stormy blue eyes and dropped your forehead to his chest. He smelled so good. Thor touched your cheek again, and you saw the soot on his hand. You looked back to his face and saw the same soot residue.

“It was a rough ride.”

“Come, let’s get you in the shower.” You slowly walked back up the steps with Thor’s hand in your leading him up to the bedroom that he hadn’t stepped foot into for six months.

You walked him across the wooden floors up the steps to the ensuite bathroom. Once inside, you turned to him and began undressing him out of the heavy metal armor. Thor finished taking it off and dropped it to the stone tiles. You helped him peel off the shirt he wore then turned to the vanity to take his things out of the drawer. As you did you felt his hands wrap around your abdomen in an intimate hug. The heat from his body seeped into the thin layer of your robe, and you took a deep breath in and sighed out. He felt good, so damn good. You looked into the mirror, and he was looking right at you. Thor tipped your chin to the side angling your lips so he could reach them then claimed them in a sweet, sensual kiss. The kiss was not a heated one or one of urgency; it was a melancholy one, one that made you feel every ounce of the sadness that was between you. He stepped closer, and you could feel every bit of him pressed against you. Your belly rumbled with hunger, but it wasn’t for food.

Pulling your lips away, you took a breath and looked down at the vanity sink. “Shower.”

He nodded again and stepped away from you before he peeled off his pants and kicked them to the side along with his boots. He was soon as nude as the day he was born. You walked to the shower, turned on the water. Thor walked to you and stepped under the dual rainfall showerheads. The water streamed down his body, and you followed the river that dipped and rounded over every muscle and indentation his perfect body had. Your mouth watered and it took everything in you to turn.

“Stay, please.�� His voice was pleading and so damn vulnerable and you didn’t think you had the heart or the strength to deny him. After gulping down the word “yes” you looked back to him over your shoulder.

“Come find me when you’re done.”

You then walked out of the bathroom and peeped back at him through the checker paned window that separated your bedroom from the bathroom. You needed a drink.

~~~~~~

Almost half an hour later, you were still sitting on your rooftop staring at the sky sipping your sixth glass of wine. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Thor approach until he slid behind you and nestled his chin in the crook of your neck. “Mmmm.”

You smiled and sighed out. “I missed you so much Y/N.”

“Six months, Thor.”

“I know I am sorry. I desperately tried to get back to you, but one mission turned out to be more complicated than I could have imagined. I have been all over the realms. I could not come back until the threat had been eradicated. I am sorry.”

You knew he was telling the truth, and you also knew how much you missed him. Turning to face him you wrapped your arms around him. “I missed you too, so damn much.” He smiled and crushed his lips to yours and took control of a brain searing kiss. You moaned and felt Thor lift you onto his lap. You could feel his growing need underneath the towel he wore.

Thor’s hands ravaged your body, moving from your face to your shoulders, then your back before they gripped your backside. You moaned again and rocked on his lap. Thor’s groan was the indication your movements were having an impact. You grabbed the back of his head and pressed your lips more forcefully onto his, then dropped your hands to his shoulders and used them as a brace.

Thor pulled your thighs and dropped you back onto the cushions, then hovered over you. his mouth connected with your neck and kissed your flesh before he sucked your skin. Slowly he trailed kisses down the center of your body before he captured your pert nipples between his teeth. You heard him groan, and with his groan the sky rumbled. Thor suckled at your breasts one at a time, creating such a delicious tension in your belly and between your thighs. You couldn’t wait any longer; it had already been too long.

His mouth dipped over your belly and to your pelvis before he placed a suctioned kiss to your already needy bud. You gasped, arched your back, and angled your head backward. “Shit!” your thighs instinctively clenched around his head before he firmly pressed them back to the cushion. He moaned and continued exploring your folds. Thor didn’t wait or take his time with bringing you the pleasure you’d been denied for months. Thor moaned and shook his head between your thighs and slurped at your flesh. “Fuck!”

“Language, my love.”

You bit your bottom lip and glared down at him. His smile was mischievous, and it made you want him more. Thor held his hand up, and you saw electricity crackling between his fingers. Your eyes widened as you watched him toy with the current. “You trust me, right?” You nodded your head. Thor pointed up, and a bright lightning bolt shot up to the sky before it rippled with several more lighting strikes. The lightning accompanied more loud roars of thunder and soon drizzles began.

You knew he was powerful, but this was the first time you’d seen him control more than just lighting and the thunder. Using your foot, you pushed his towel off his waist. His length bobbed in the air as if it were saluting you. “God you’re gorgeous,” you complimented.

“Me? You’re the gorgeous one, my love. Your beautiful face has haunted me every waking moment. Your sweet scent has left me captivated and craving you for months. You are my best dream come to life.” you smiled. Thor pointed his finger to your breast, and a lightning bolt zapped your skin. You gasped, but it didn’t hurt. Thor searched your face for any indication that you were uncomfortable, and when he saw none, he pointed to your breast, and again, a lighting bolt kissed your skin, but this time the surge felt hotter and left a slight sting.

“Mmm.”

Thor repeated the action two more times; each surge was more powerful than the last. Each strike had a different effect. By the fourth time you were soaking wet and aching to feel his strength between your thighs. With the last strike his mouth was there to sooth the powerful sting that remained. The rain came down a little harder, and the water drops decorated your skin. As they fell, Thor’s tongue was there to lap up each drop.

Suddenly you felt the hot and cold trike of lighting on your pearl. “Fuck!” Your shout echoed off your roof as your body convulsed from the sheer force of your unexpected orgasm.

“You are so beautiful when you come undone, love.” Again, Thor struck between your legs with lighting. Your body seized as you gritted your teeth. He kept the surge on your skin as his lips wrapped around your nipple once more.

Thor thrust his hips forward and speared his need right into your core. You screeched and the intensity of the surge increased, and again your orgasm took you by surprise. You clenched around him, but Thor did not stop his thrusts.

“By the galaxy, you feel incredible. I have missed your cavernous depths, missed your delicious nectar that which sustains me.” His hips snapped forward forcing your body to shake with the impact of his bruising thrust. Each time he connected with the bundle of nerves within you with the force of thunder itself he manipulated the lighting to strike your clit rhythmically. Each strike intensified to a level that almost caused pain before it lowered to a bearable surge only to intensify again.

After almost fifteen minutes, you couldn’t predict what was to come, and each time the anticipation of the next shock made you swell with such anticipation, you could barely breathe. Thor pounded into your heat with the spread and strength of the God he was. Every time his hips collided with yours the sky ripped apart with loud thunder and forceful rain. The rain beat down onto your bodies and made them slick. Without warning you felt your bodies lift off the cushions and hover into the air.

Shock rang through you as you looked around, seeing that you were getting higher and higher into the air. When you looked back to Thor, his eyes were lighting white.

“Do you trust me?” Trying to catch your breath and take in everything that was happening, you nodded.

“Yes.”

“Do you love me as I love you?” You smiled and nodded again before you kissed him most fervently. You pressed your forehead to his and nodded again.

“Yes, I love you, Thor.”

“I love you Y/N, forever and always.” With that, he shot into the air, and the backdrop was the lighting and thunder in the sky as he lifted his hips and plowed into you. Every time he connected, you still felt the electric charge his you, but this time it struck several places at once. His eyes were that of lighting, and you should have been afraid, but you weren’t. You wanted him with everything in you.

You rocked your body with his hoping to show him just how badly you craved him. Thor’s moans became louder and louder, but they never overpowered the sound of the thunder because it too grew louder and louder. His skin’s heat intensified, and soon, it began to glow just as with the lighting in the sky. Thor snapped his hips into you once, twice and a third time until he dropped his head back and shout into the sky, setting it off with a deafening crescendo of thunder decorated with thousands of lightning bolts. You could feel yourself clenching around him as he ripped your orgasm from you. Your screams competed with his and the thunder, but nothing beat the god of thunder who commanded it.

The two of you hovered in the sky bodies shaking from the force of the pleasure that was still surging through you. Slowly Thor’s eyes returned to his incredible blue ones. “My love,” he began.

“My love.” He kissed you, and before you knew it, you were again on the cushion. The thunder in the shy turned into rumbles, and the light show died down. All that remained was the lite drizzle. You scoffed and laughed as you held his wet body to him.

“That was new.” You could feel Thor’s smile on your temple.

“Was it? Did you enjoy it?” You pulled back and gazed at him.

“It was electrifyingly delightful.” You smiled wide, and he returned the smile.

“I say we definitely try that again, maybe not tonight though. Shield and every other government entity will lose their mind if you do that again.”

“Silly humans. I am the God of Thunder; I do as I please.” His lips crashed to yours, and with the fire of the kiss, you knew his intentions. It was going to be a stormy night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@bugngiz @dadinhas-heat @azarmanii @chaneajoyyy @muse-of-mbaku @missmohnique @bellaamor88 @frantastique @yourwonderbelle @allhailqueennel @alyxkbrl @thelovelyliterary @queengodiva619

#KinkToberFest #kinktoberfest series #marvel kinktoberfest #kinktoberfest 2019 #erik killmonger #thor #Steve Rogers #bucky #m'baku #tchalla #heimdall #sam wilson #quentin beck #Marvel Comics #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #electrifying one shot

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pandemonshq · 4 years ago

Photo

Welcome, Destinee, please grab your stake on your way to your tumblr to play Daphne Greengrass here at Pandemons. We were thrilled to see how you created a brilliant family history and dynamic for Daphne—the divorce, her family connections, and how her history feeds into her choices. And her job as a translator? Inevitably going to get her (and you) broiled in more trouble than expected here.

Your request for michaela conlin. // jessica henwick FCs have been accepted.

OOC

Name: destinee.

Preferred Pronouns: she/her, they/them

Age: twenty-four.

Timezone: est.

Activity Level: if you to ask me for one of those out of ten scores i’d probably give myself about a six. i really enjoy roleplaying but i have some chronic problems that occasionally put me out of commission. i’m typically online in the late afternoon and at night.

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character’s Name: daphne greengrass.

Bloodstatus: pureblood.

Birthday: october 4th, 1979.

Gender and Sexuality: cis female, bi-romantic, demisexual.

Former Hogwarts House: slytherin.

Infection: no.

Faceclaim: michaela conlin. // jessica henwick.

SHORT HEADCANON TOPICS

Occupation:

translator.

daphne has always been a bright girl, though she was never the type to flaunt it. she was never the type to draw unnecessary attention to herself, preferring to slip by in the shadows - she was perfectly content to let others take the spotlight, and the blame.

still, she did love to know things. she was quite fond of history, and loved to know the stories behind mysterious artifacts and lost treasures. on sleepless nights, she has always been found curled up in the corner of a library, reading whatever happened to catch her eye.

it was her desire to read books and inscriptions that lead to the discovery of her talent for languages. she taught herself what she could for awhile, and then she turned to her parents, begging for lessons in any language that could be taught. her parents shrugged their shoulders, and let their daughter do as she pleased. unsatisfied with simply learning french and german and russian and latin, she threw herself into the study of ancient and beast languages, and found herself among one of the few with an affinity for such things.

daphne dreamed of putting her talent to good use - of traveling the world writing journals, or translating ancient inscriptions for cursebreakers. but then her parents announced that they’d found her a husband, and daphne put her dreams on the shelf to be the lovely, loyal housewife she was expected to be.

one of the first things she did after her divorce was finalized was dust off those dreams of hers. daphne has translated ancient texts and read the inscriptions of golden sarcophagi. she has translated for ministry officials as they delicately negotiated peace with magical beings, and been the helping hand to reunite frightened tourists with their lost children. she’s quite proud of her skill and of her work.

Marital Status/Ships:

daphne remembers clearly how it felt, to sit in the common room surrounded by happy, giggling girls and not understand. whenever her friends would gossip about boys, or gush over an attractive stranger, daphne would sit in silence. she learned fairly quickly that her friends found it odd that she didn’t seem to like boys, so she learned to smile and pretend to get it, but most of the time she just didn’t. when one of her friends had confided in her that she liked girls, daphne wondered if that was perhaps why she didn’t get it … but then, she found she didn’t really understand when her friends gossiped about girls, either.

pansy would talk about draco more often than anyone wanted to hear, and for long time, it went in one ear and out the other for daphne. but then she met him, and an offhand remark became the odd conversation became a friendship. and daphne finally started to get it. because she liked draco. more than she liked anyone - or, more accurately, differently than she liked anyone else. the trouble was that pansy liked draco, and pansy was the leader of their little clique. daphne had always been taught the importance of social circles, and so she never said a word.

daphne met a girl in the library in her fifth year; a ravenclaw with a thirst for knowledge that rivaled her own and a delightfully snarky attitude. they started dating in sixth year, and their relationship held strong through the turmoil and tragedy of the war and it’s aftermath. but then her parents reminded her that she wasn’t a child anymore, and it was time she started looking for an appropriate match. daphne crushed her own heart in her hands and ended the relationship, and she quietly fears that she’ll never recover.

daphne is still raw and aching when she finds out about astoria and draco. it brings a flash of old feelings to the surface, but once more, she stomps it down. she puts on a smile, and she supports her sister at every turn. it isn’t too long after that her parents nudge her in the direction of the wizard they’ve deemed her proper match - a frenchman with a handsome face and a flawless pedigree. daphne hopes something will spark between them, but it never really does. she marries him anyway, because it’s what her parents want.

the marriage is a disaster. they have nothing in common, except for regrets. they argue over what restaurants to visit, how daphne should do her hair, whether daphne should be allowed to work. he sleeps around, but truthfully, she couldn’t care less. the moment she finds out she’s pregnant, she’s more than happy to kick him out of her bed entirely. she’s only obligated to supply him one heir, after all.

their daughter is born, and daphne falls in love. cynthia instantly becomes the center of her whole world. her husband is not so impressed. he insists he wants a son, but daphne isn’t having any of it. the relationship devolves even further, and daphne sees less and less of her husband as the months roll by. cynthia is three years old when things hit a boiling point. her husband strikes her during an argument, and daphne is enraged. she draws her wand and forcibly hurls him out of the house, and sends his things flying after him. daphne will put up with a lot of things for the sake of her family’s reputation, but not this. he returns to france, and daphne at last feels free.

romance is the last thing on daphne’s mind these days. a single mother with a career doesn’t have much time to fuss about those things, especially when they’ve never been particularly fussed in the first place. now that her sister has fallen ill, she has even less time to think about it. she has to be there for her daughter, her sister, her nephew, and for draco. just because she isn’t thinking about it, though, doesn’t mean it might not surprise her. old flames and new could be hiding around any corner.

MULTIPARAGRAPH OR MULTI-POINT TOPICS

Family

Father | Nestor Greengrass. the greengrass family is one of the truest, purest bloodlines around, and sure, that’s something to be proud of - but more importantly, that’s something to take advantage of. nestor is as crafty as a salesman can be, and he knows how to market himself and the shop. he’s carefully crafted and maintained the ideal reputation; the perfect balance of shady and trustworthy. money is truly his main motivation for nearly everything he does. he’s always encouraged his children to be intelligent, sly, and greedy. he’s certainly a selfish man, but one that does care for his family. whether or not he cares about them more than he cares for himself, though, is rather hard to tell.

Mother | Meilin Greengrass. meilin has certain expectations. there are ways that people should and should not behave. there are obligations that people must fulfill, and duties they must complete. of course people are not perfect. little mistakes may be made from time to time. the young will stray from the path every now and again, but they simply need to be guided back into their place. she has always fully expected her daughters to fall perfectly in line - and the fact that things are so imperfect? that their perfect perfect reputation has been blemished? it infuriates her.

Sister | Astoria Malfoy. daphne’s relationship with her family is a bit … complicated, but she has always loved her little sister with all of her heart. from the time they were small, daphne has always tried to look after astoria, to be the best big sister she can be. she’s always wanted to be someone astoria could look up to, and it’s motivated her a lot in her life. when she found out her sister had fallen ill, she was devastated.

Daughter | Cynthia Greengrass. daphne never really thought much about being a mother. she supposes she’s always been a bit mother; she can recall the many times her sister would roll her eyes and say, “okay, mom” or the way pansy would sometimes groan and snap “you aren’t my mother.” she’s always known that she would have kids one day. it was one of her responsibilities, after all. continue the family line. but she still didn’t really think about it. even throughout her pregnancy, daphne didn’t really think of herself as a mother. she felt more like a bloated bus than anything else. but then she held her daughter in her arms for the first time, and it felt like the world shifted. her daughter is her sun and her sky and all of the stars. she would do anything to keep cynthia safe, and to make her happy. and if anyone were to threaten her sweet, wonderful little girl … she wouldn’t rest until they paid for it.

Childhood/Hogwarts

most people would say knockturn alley is no place for children, but to daphne, it’s simply home. she had spent her early years young and fearless, running down cobblestone streets, dodging the hags that often lurked in the crowds, admiring the dark artifacts her father sold, spying on the illicit clinic her mother ran. perhaps it warped her perspective a bit; perhaps she doesn’t always fear things that she should; but no one can deny that it’s blessed her with nerves of steel.

daphne is a little surprised to be sorted into slytherin. she had thought herself a bit more like her ravenclaw mother than her slytherin father, but she fits easily into the ranks. daphne attaches herself to pansy parkinson within the first few weeks of their first year. pansy is a bigot and a bully and a pureblood, and daphne knows immediately she wants to behind her and not in her way.

daphne makes friends and she gets good grades, but she’s never the center of attention, and that’s the way she likes it. it’s much easier to get away with breaking rules when people are paying more attention to the troublemakers; and people are much more forgiving when they have a worse example to compare you to.

hogwarts becomes a home away from home for her. she finds a sense of peace and simple joy there that she just doesn’t have at home. she loves her parents, she truly does, but that doesn’t mean they were truly good parents. her mother’s presence feels almost crushing sometimes; like her expectations have a physical weight and they’ve perched themselves right on daphne’s lungs and when she fails it feels like she can’t breathe. no one looks at her like they’re waiting for her to fail at hogwarts.

that peace is shattered by voldemort’s return. she watches the people around her change; sees the way the pressure warps and twists them, the way some of them just crack and chip away. suddenly it feels like everyone is watching everyone all the time; constantly on a knife’s edge. she knows what side she’s supposed to be on, but she can’t help but just want it all to end, no matter who wins.

daphne tries to be the sturdy one. she tries to be there for people, do whatever little thing she can for them. sit with them, talk with them, bring them tea, steal sweets from the kitchens. she knows how the rest of the school has started to feel about slytherins - even the ones who don’t deserve it. if no one else will be here for them, she’ll do it all herself.

Post Hogwarts

daphne is exhausted and the world around her is in shambles. she tries to be there for her family and for her friends - for the ones that are left, as they try to put the pieces back together. it doesn’t feel like enough. she doesn’t feel the same anymore. she can’t imagine how the others must feel. the ones who were truly in the middle of it.

she finds happiness in the brief moments she can spend alone with her girlfriend, just the two of them, peaceful and quiet. her mother tells her it’s about time she end her little fling, and daphne’s heart sinks to the floor. her mother reminds her that she must have known this relationship wouldn’t last long. her girlfriend was a half-blood, after all, and not fit for marriage. daphne does as she’s told. her girlfriend doesn’t understand, and daphne can’t blame her.

she sinks into a deep depression after the messy end of her relationship, and finds that she can’t stand to be alone with her thoughts - or with her mother. she starts making anonymous donations to charities and to projects to help rebuild. she throws herself back into learning languages and reading books. she avoids the world.

it’s astoria’s announcement of her engagement to draco that shakes daphne out of her daze. she has a few mixed emotions. it feels a little odd to see her sister engaged to her old crush; it feels a bit painful to see her sister engaged at all, after the end of her relationship. but more than anything … astoria didn’t tell her. all of their lives they had trusted each other with everything, and yet her baby sister hadn’t told her she was going to be engaged? for a moment, she’s angry. and then she realizes that it’s her fault. she’d been pushing her sister away without even realizing it.

daphne puts all of her energy into working through her depression after that. she’s determined to be there for her sister, come hell or high water. she reappears in the social scene, starts to go out with friends again, and ignores her mother a little less.

she’s introduced to her future husband not too long after her sister’s engagement, and they attend the wedding together. astoria doesn’t like him much, but daphne thinks he’s tolerable, and their mother seems very keen that they date. daphne regrets not taking her sister’s doubts more seriously, looking back on it.

daphne is a reluctant and miserable housewife for the course of their marriage. the birth of their daughter brightens her life; she loves being a mother. but she only hates her husband more.

the day her divorce was finalized she used her wand to send up fireworks in the street and laughed like she hadn’t laughed in years. she was free, and goddamnit, she was going to be happy.

she loves her work, and she loves her daughter. being a single working mother suits her far better than being a married housewife ever did. she’s happier than she’s ever been in her life … and then her sister falls ill, and daphne wonders if the sky will ever stop crashing down on her.

Current

daphne only really has one priority these days, and that priority is her family’s well-being.

daphne tries not to worry cynthia. she’s only a child, after all. she should be enjoying her time at hogwarts, not weighed down by tragedy. she knows she can’t keep cynthia completely in the dark; she’s a smart kid, and she’s very close to her cousin. still, daphne can ease her mind with sugar coated words and gentle promises … even if they so often taste like bitter lies.

whenever daphne has the time to read, she spends it pouring over anything and everything that might possibly help her sister. her reputation and skill set gives her access to a lot of unusual material, and she hopes one day it will help her dear sister.

she spends a lot of time with her daughter and with scorpius, always happy to look after her nephew or offer a helping hand to her sister and her husband. she loves scorpius as much as she loves her own daughter, and she’s promised her sister she would look after him.

she’s also promised to look after draco, and that’s proving much more of a challenge. she worries about him getting into trouble, crossing the wrong line, catching the wrong person’s attention. she wants to protect him, like she promised she would, but at the same time - how could she ever ask him to take a step back? she’s as desperate to cure her sister as he is; but she doesn’t want to lose him in the process, either.

Plots

i would love for daphne’s talents as a translator to come in handy for a plot, or plots. it’s an interesting passion of hers, and i love the idea of people coming to her to translate old writing, or ancient inscriptions, or people or magical beings.

daphne was the absolute mom of slytherin, but she also dropped off the map for awhile after the war. i would love to have her reconnect with old friends, or at least try to. bonus points if daphne still gets to mother them.

give me messy, complicated relationships please. romantic and platonic. i’m here for that shit.

potentially interested in the absolute panic of daphne being temporarily infected but we’ll see how things go.

daphne’s got a lot of money to throw around and i like the idea of someone approaching her to invest in something - some kind of charity, big event, business. they would need to win her over, of course, but it’d be interesting to have daphne really show her social/business/money skills.

daphne’s wanted to have more kids ever since she had cynthia, so that might come up at some point. whether she goes through with it, and how she goes about it, would depend entirely on how things end up happening in the roleplay.

Other

usually i have a pinterest board read before hand but it’s 2 am right now and i need to crash, so here is where the pinterest board will be. hopefully i put some stuff in it before y'all see it but if not … i’ll link it again later or something.

#urinfected

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inexorablebloodmoon · 5 years ago

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I don’t know why Cass is throwing shade out right now? But apparently someone accused her of copying your oc. And it seriously looks 100% copied. It’s on her main blog. I hate seeing those shit drama loving people stealing your guys stuff.

«──────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

Oh chile. Go ahead and get comfy, get your teapots and teacups out, because this is going to be a wild story and some really hot tea ☕️

I knew about the OC long before people told me, since I was the one who caught onto it since I still somehow had been following her on my main blog titanialynida. She posted a collage of pictures of her commissions on her main blog and I believe shared it on her Diabolik OC blog as well. Looks similar to my D&D version of Titania and she knew she’s basically a sorceress and archer. But aside copied work and an unoriginal OC, Cass has always been trouble since she sold the fake Azusa plush to a friend of mine and to someone named bitter-doll.

If people really don’t believe me on this, her own friend Summer sent her a screenshot of her “accidentally” talking shit on her which I have proof of. Cass seemed so stupid as to believe in her that she was still a friend and didn’t “mean to say or send that” and Summer is a known two faced liar and user. I also want to mention their friend Rylin was the one who gave our friend her refund which she should’ve never done, but Cass is irresponsible and lives with a man who hardly takes care of her which I’ll get to in just a moment. My second problem with Cass, is she’s a liar. A big liar in fact. She claimed her father was actually native, but when I and others went to see for myself, he doesn’t live on a reservation and in one photo of Cass, he has a Confederate flag in the background so she can fuck RIGHT OFF trying to claim being POC and putting herself in topics she had no space in. Even claiming her fiancé Joe is because he isn’t fully White because he’s a “dark skinned” Italian man. Which by the way, Italians are White People, just the rest of Europeans. My mother’s parents were born in Portugal and lived in Europe till they decided to move to Canada. Both of my parents are immigrant and come from immigrant families. My father being Chicano so that is disrespectful for me that she has no place in our conversations about problems that minorities face. And White people don’t get to define what is and isn’t racist. Because that isn’t how racism works within a society built off the backs of Black and Brown people world wide.

Another thing to know about Cass, is she’s extremely two faced. She lies about being supportive and is always trying to find an excuse. She lied to my best friend Mika about traiding her Dazai merch for Azusa merch Mika already had. Mika also, never received a tracking number for her stuff and was lied and cheated to similar to the Azusa Plush. She excuse was she had problems with her bank and PayPal as she usually does with people she has interacted with. Which I also have proof of since my best friend Mika has sent merch to quiet a few Diabolik fans within the fandom.

Lastly, her “fiancé”, or as I like to call him, a predator and abuser. His name is Joe and he’s a fucked up person. Think of misogyny on cocaine. Not only does he throw things in their trailer home and apparently she takes after this, but she herself said he would get extremely drunk and violent in front of her who was 19 and basically relying on him as a place to stay. I have no doubts he’s done this after their daughter was born. I know this all too well and what this man was after, since I lived with a man similar and no healthy man in his mid 30’s is going to take care of a 19 year old girl and think that’s a healthy relationship. That’s abuse waiting to happen and she was young and vulnerable. Their whole relationship is gross and many of Destinee’s friends advised her to leave and get away from him for a long time. He even called me racial slurs like “wetback” and “beaner” when talking about immigration and that he’s beat me up and got to the point of sexually assaulting me in his comments. Called me a cunt and was extremely abusive saying he would hit me. When that happened, I told Cass she needs to leave him and that was completely uncalled for. She doesn’t care about my rights or my safety, and he’s also a known Islamaphobic White man. So she’s just as guilty by proxy and has never once formally apologized.

Go ahead and talk shit on me, Cass. Try. At the very least, when I was in an abusive relationship I reached out to the friends I had and contacted the police when I was able to. I went to get help so I can throw a predator in jail and before he was gonna get arrested, he killed himself. You let that innocent little girl be around somebody who is physically and verbally abusive. All you care about is a fantasy of Joe and what he “was”, not actually caring about the well being and safety of your daughter. Having an abusive father around is no benefit to her life. And Summer, I’m not a pos mom thank you. I work 40 hours a week while my daughter goes to public kindergarten full-time and I buy her what she wants and needs. She’s in Girl Scouts and Soccer. What’s Cass doin for her baby and what’s Misa even doing for her disabled son? No sports, no after-school program or time with peers. Both are lazy and selfish parents who don’t care about their children’s welfare.

If people do not believe my words, they may feel free to that and I can’t change people’s opinions, but feel free to DM me for proof because I have it, and eventually today I’ll post it in imgur files.

Try me bitch

«──────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

#diabolik-cass #diabolikcass #personal #anon #ask

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i-dont-work-here · 3 days ago

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It's time.

I have a bad habit of procrastinating. And forgetting. But, now I finally remember to do this. So, let's get some backstory done

-PART 1-

Destinee Collins, EngD

RobCo Employee #127

I'm gonna tell you right now, I haven't figured out her early life yet, like her childhood. But, I do have some later life things figured out.

Warning: I do ramble a lot and say the same things over and over again. And I say (Type, I guess?) a lot of unrelated or useless information. Also, potential spoilers. Look for the red words to gauge when the spoilers start and when they are over.

After a good 24 or so years working for RobCo pre-war, she was... surprisingly very low on the hierarchy chain. She had decent pay, but she was barely above working on assembly lines. She was barely in maintenance. Just another small gear in the large scheme of things, I suppose. This forced her to work with the newer employees. The things about working with newer people, though, is that it comes with benefits. Rumors spread much easier than you'd expect. And, I suppose, that's where this all starts.

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(SPOILERS FOR THE FALLOUT SERIES/SHOW!!!)

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There had been word going around that RobCo had been in cahoots with Vault-Tec. Though that was true, and everyone knew that, what people didn't know for sure was whether or not the war would be influenced by the two. Destinee Collins (RobCo Employee #127) had heard rumors from her team's local gossip, Minerva Casey (RobCo Employee #1275) that Vault-Tec, in collaboration with RobCo, WesTek, Big M.T, and a few others would help end the war and make profits from dropping the bombs themselves.

No one believed Minerva (for once). Her claims were deemed outrageous, even to Destinee, who used to love to listen to her colleague's gossip and rumors. Those companies weren't powerful enough to nuke the U.S., right? Wrong. Very, very wrong.

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(No More Spoilers)

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When the bombs dropped, Destinee had been sent to work on a few security systems in a bunker in the Mohave, though she usually worked closer to the American south. But, she didn't complain. The pay for that job would keep her set for a while. It could pay for her rent, food, bills, the whole shebang. So how could she say no? The job itself was pretty simple. All she really needed to do was repair a few terminals and run tests on them. Simple enough. She didn't know why it paid so well. Maybe because it was the military she was doing it for? Maybe because the bunker wasn't on any maps? Who knew. She surely didn't, that naive, foolish woman.

When the bombs fell, it was pretty damn obvious. She was somewhat away from the impact zone, but she could still feel the blast shaking her to her core. She could hear people outside, screaming and crying, begging to be let back in or praying to whatever deity they did or didn't believe in. No one was let inside. No one was let out. They were trapped.

The military operates were already on the terminals Destinee had fixed, wondering what the hell had happened, but all comms were knocked out. They were not only trapped, but they were isolated. No one could speak to anyone outside of the bunker, and vice versa.

-PART 2 IS BEING WORKED ON

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #robco #fnv oc #backstory #oc lore #yay #robert edwin house #mohave #vault tec #a random fallout ghoul #destinee collins #bunker #war never changes #fallout terminals #fallout tv series #fallout tv show #fallout tv spoilers

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we-be-rping-bts-n-stuff · 5 years ago

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You could always tell us how your day went 🙂 How did it go?-Destinee

Honestly, my day was great yesterday and I just woke up today. I saw my grandparents and had some really nice smoked meat that my dad made. It was just a ring where I would look at the replys and just feel no motivation to answer. And then I had to do my homework and I struggled with that because of lack of motivation and not knowing what to write about in one of the reflections.

I don't know what my issue is. I just don't feel motivated to answer or do much. I think I'm just burned out and might need a break. But I hate to just leave you guys. I feel like I'm disappointing you all when I don't answer or if I were to take a break because I know that feeling when you are so excited about a rp and then they don't answer for a while. And I don't want to be that blog that just leaves you all hanging.

~Bagel

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eclipsedshadowk · 6 years ago

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Random fusion prompts with @simscognito 's and my sims (I'm bored)

"To open this door, a fusion of four is needed" Elisa read the inscriptions on the top of the temple door. Elisa thought to herself that the people she acompanied were the only ones to fuse with, but knowing Lester, Alex and Henry, the thought that the fusion would be unstable. "Alright, no choice. We'll fuse." Affirmed Alex. "We're unstable!" Alarmed Henry "The two of us could stay together, but with these two? We'll split up."

"That's the best you've got?" Henry was a deer in the headlights when he sees what destruction the fusion of Alex and Lester. Poor Elisa could barely stand, even in her demon form. Roars of rage echoes across the area. Elisa is left in tears, going back to thinking that she might not be strong at all.

Marie and Niko are fused for a month. Instead of referring themselves as 'we,' they began to refer themselves as 'I.' Henry meets the fusion with a disaproving look and said "Care to unfuse?" They shook their head. "I don't wanna! Don't wanna leave! But then again I- we are getting scolded." "Marie! Unfuse with Niko!" "NO!"

"I might need a fusion of two to help me out here..." Looking at the blue print and thinking to herself. "I could fuse with lovely Anna, but I don't want us to get unfused from the stress of instructing someone." Her brothers fused behind the apparatus. "Piece of cake. Now I want cake, but I could get some later. Might have to unfuse, hm? Uhm... But I like being fused. I don't like cake. Argh! Confusing!" "The cons of being fused." Elisa grinned. "Really?"

A fusion of Caleb and Enzo checks on Paris. "Yo, ever tried fusing with Lilith?" "Been considering it." Paris responded. "Well, give yourselves time then. She's also considering it."

"Destinee!" Called Genevieve "Let's fuse!" Destinee is clueless. "You sure you want to?" "Well, just wanna try." "Oh." Destinee leads Gen on a dance before a flash of light surrounds them. The fusion opened their eyes before quickly unfusing. "Destinee that was so coooooool! Let's fuse again, I wanna see Papa!" "What would he think while we're fused?"

"Not planning to unfuse, Lester?" asked Leslie. "I like it this way, okay?"

Kiko hugs Tala and they fuse. "Hey... We're okay... We're liking this. We'll get used to this." And then they stayed fused for weeks.

Auburn and Billy unfused. Auburn got an attack again. Billy had to rush to get his boyfriend's inhaler.

"Henry? Alex!" The fusion panicked. They didn't realized that they fused.

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sketchguk · 5 years ago

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Hi, friends! I can honestly say that I’ve been on Tumblr for about 9 years, but only 7 of those months have been spent on this account. Being a part of this fandom means so much to me, and as cheesy as it may be, I’ve never felt so much love from a community like this. I think that I should spread a little love back to everyone through this festive follow forever post in the spirit of the holidays (there’s also a message for my beautiful followers at the very end, so bear with me). Although I may have not spoken to you all personally, you’ve made my experience here amazing!! Whether it’s seeing you on my dash or in my inbox, you’ve all made me smile one way or another!! I’ll admit right now that I’ve sent so many anonymous messages to you all because I’m really shy, haha. Not to mention, I follow so many amazing content creators, gif/gfx makers and fic writers alike, and I want to make you smile as much as you have made me!! Y’all are so lovely, and I’m not totally sure why anyone chooses to interact with me or to follow me nonetheless. Maybe you’ve read a fic of mine, or none at all, I appreciate you all the same 💕 I know some of you may be in and out of hiatus, but just know that I’m thinking of you!! And if this is the first time you’re coming across my blog, I guess this is a good time to introduce myself. Hi, I’m Teresa. It’s nice to meet you 😄

If you’re reading this, hopefully we can chat a little more. I would love to get to know such lovely people 😊 To my beautiful mutuals, I love you all sooo much 💓 I’m not the best at expressing my feelings, but I hope that this is a start! @190713 @95swifi ✩ @alwayschoosechocolate ✩ @aureumjeon ✩ @beebopboobop ✩ @boobearcupcake ✩ @btsaremyfaves ✩ @btssmutheaven ✩ @bwiq ✩ @engeljimin ✩ @ddaengwrld ✩ @emiyooa ✩ @geniuslab 💌 ✩ @gimmeyoon (@gimmeyoon-main) ✩ @girlwiththespecs ✩ @gukgalore ✩ @gukkheaven ✩ @guktwt ✩ @hobimygs ✩ @hoseoknysus ✩ @idiotscalledfriends ✩ @joonary ✩ @kitsutaes (@geniusguk) 💌 ✩ @littlemisskookie ✩ @llsanjoonie ✩ @lovehrs ✩ @magicshop-myg ✩ @map-of-yoongi ✩ @maptoyoongi ✩ @mercurygguk ✩ @minflix ✩ @minlexia ✩ @minyoongsueit ✩ @mygsii ✩ @outroguks ✩ @pjmskosmos ✩ @sdmnluv ✩ @softaellie ✩ @spookitokki (@spookitokkimain) ✩ @starrytete 💌 ✩ @syugasshi ✩ @taesseok 💌 ✩ @tokyoscript ✩ @ve1vetyoongi ✩ @vminary 💌 ✩ @vtbts ✩ @vxngguk ✩ @wthkook ✩ @yourdelights 💌 If your url is bolded, scroll down for some words of affirmation. ✨ If you have an emoji (💌) next to your url, scroll down for a special message. 😇🌟 And here’s a shoutout to some of my favorite fic writers, because you all allow me escape to my happy place !! Thank you so much for contributing to the writing community !! This online space is pretty hectic, especially as of late, but you all make it worth it. Even if you’re taking a break from writing, I am here cheering you on !! And to let you know that I’ll support you no matter what. I hope you never lose your spark for passion and creativity !! Sometimes life gets the best of us, and other times, things are not in our control, but I want to send my love and appreciation to you nevertheless. Your fics have inspired me to try my own hand at writing, and I’m forever grateful ✨ You’re spectacular, every single one of you, so never forget that! Kpop isn’t that serious, but I’ll probably think about your fics until the day I die. @bymoonchild ✩ @floralseokjin ✩ @foreverpark ✩ @geniuslab ✩ @gimmeyoon ✩ @gukgalore ✩ @gukkheaven ✩ @guktwt ✩ @jamaisjoons ✩ @gukyi ✩ @kookswife ✩ @kinktae ✩ @kpopfanfictrash ✩ @minflix ✩ @mygsii ✩ @personasintro ✩ @prolixitae ✩ @readyplayerhobi ✩ @spookitokki ✩ @ubemango ✩ @ve1vetyoongi (yee, you might see some repeats because my moots are super talented) 💖 A love letter from me to you: 💌 @geniuslab Megan !! This might sound soo sappy, but you’re the very first person I followed when I made this blog !! It’s because I’ve read all of your fics (perhaps more than once on my old account), and you inspired me to start writing as well. You have no idea how happy I was when you said you would get back into writing fics. I guess I’ll expose myself right now, but I’ve sent a few anons to you on the matter haha (yes, I am a 7 Chances enthusiast, one of many). You’re so talented, and I admire you so much 🥺 A gif maker and fic writer ?? Nothing you can’t do !! Among other things, you’re such a kind-hearted individual. I’ve read plenty of your text posts, and there’s just something so warm about the way you carry yourself. You deserve the world, and I wish for nothing but the best for you !! I hope you have an amazing new year and that you have space for peace, love, and healing. Please know that I support you through and through, and that you are well-loved ❣️

💌 @kitsutaes (@geniusguk) Yas !! I know we just started chatting, but I love getting to know you !! It’s hard for me to reach out to people because I’m shy, but I’m really grateful that you hit me up 😊 It’s been so nice getting to know you, and I hope we can get closer 💕 I’m already learning so much about you because our chats just flow from one topic to another !! You said you wanna visit new york one day, so I’ll hold you to that 😉 I’ll be your tour guide, and the only exchange I’ll ever need is your friendship !! Some dried mangoes would be nice too 😚 haha jk … unless 😳 I hope you have an amazing year filled with lots and lots of love. May you receive everything you’re wishing for !!

💌 @starrytete Mirelle !! I’m still getting used to your new url LOL. But how could I ever forget you?? You are quite literally the human embodiment of an angel. You’re always spreading positivity, and I adore you with all my heart. I wish that I could be as radiant as you !! All the emojis that I’m using in this post?? An homage to you 🌼☀️ I don’t think I can ever look at emojis the same way thanks to you haha. Sending you lots of love!! I hope we can speak more in the future!! May the new year bring you happiness and good fortune!! Please take care of yourself, ok?! Message me whenever because my inbox is always open 🥰

💌 @taesseok Mia !! I just love seeing you on my dash. I’ll give you a quick run down: Teresa: :[ Mia: *posts* Teresa: :] It’s like the universe knows. You’re a light in this world, and I hope you never lose your spark !! May you smile as often as I do (all thanks to you) 💗 I wish for nothing but your happiness since you deserve it and more. In fact, it’s the world that doesn’t deserve you and your sparkle !! I hope this year was rewarding for you, but I already know that 2020 will be better and better. I’ll be sending you lots of positive energy for the new year hehe 💞 Hopefully we can talk more soon !! I’d love to be friends !!

💌 @vminary Kiara !! I’m so happy that you reached out to me all those months ago because you’ve become one of my closest online friends !! I can’t tell you how much you mean to me because the limit does not exist. It’s so easy to talk to you, and sometimes our conversations are big sis/lil sis -esque (I’ve always wanted a sister lol 🐣). I feel as if we’ve taught one another so much, especially because of our cultural differences and the tiny age gap that we share. I find myself missing you because of the time zones LOL. In the middle of the day, I’m wondering whether or not you’re sleeping well :’) Why do you have to live across the world?? 😔 I would totally send you a package if I wasn’t broke haha. I’m sending you all my love here though, and I hope that’s enough !! 💛

💌 @yourdelights Destinee !! You are SUCH a sweetheart. The messages that you send me are so kind, and I don’t know what I did to deserve you. Do let me know how you stumbled across my blog because I feel like you’re way too cool for me LOL. Your posts are always so hilarious, and the tags have me dying. Your sense of humor >> !! My love for you is immeasurable, and I hope you know that, ahh. I think it was truly solidified when I found out you’re a fan of day6 and the rose :’) I’m not really a multi-stan, but from that moment on, I was sold. That was the only time my instincts did not let me down 🌹💝 I swear I’m getting introduced to new fandoms because of you haha. And when you went on a lil hiatus, I really missed seeing you on my dash !! I hope that you’ll be with us for a long time though !! I really can’t wait for what’s in store for next year, because no pressure or anything, but I’m sincerely excited for your WIPs hehe. I’m rooting for ya, so make sure you make the new year your b*tch !! Lastly, thank you so much to my followers !! I see y’all in my activity, and I wanna let you know that I love you from the bottom of my heart !! At this point, I’m more of an update blog than a fanfic blog LOL :’) And if you follow me because you’ve stumbled through my fics, I just want to say 🤯 what?! It blows my mind that anyone reads my work, let alone enjoys it. I never would have though that I’d find solace in reading and writing considering I’m a full on STEM nerd. In conjunction with that, I literally started writing fiction 7 months ago to this day. I didn’t even realize that it would lead me to such amazing connections. With so many lovely people, popping in and out of my dashboard, inbox/DMs, and activity page, my heart b u r s t s with love!! Your interactions mean the world to me, even the most minute things like reblogs make my heart flutter. I really do check the reblogs to see if anyone has left a tag. Single words and keyboard smashes mean the world to me too !! Before I was a fic writer, I was just a silent reader. I always admired writers for the worlds they craft, the characters they develop, and the plots they devise, all for it to come together in one cohesive work of literature. Now that I have a vague understanding of what that’s like, I know that it’s nothing short of strenuous. Words are so powerful, and although I’m a really sensitive sap, I’ve read so many things that hit me to the core, and now I’m sure to tell the authors how much I enjoy their fics. If they went through hours (perhaps days/weeks/months) of drafting, writing, editing, and formatting, a quick comment from the reader really doesn’t hurt !! It’s the most rewarding thing a writer could ever ask for. As an amateur author myself, being on the receiving end is the thing that keeps me going !! I promise you, I don’t take any of it for granted. Your words seriously resonate with me, and it’s a huge motivator for me !! I hope that in the new year, I can work on new pieces for you all (as much as I don’t want to make up excuses, juggling life is not easy as a student!!) I always say that I write for myself, and as true as that is, I want to share my stories with you lovely people !! I pour my heart and soul into my work, and the build up of excitement is nothing if it means I can’t share it with someone else. So, old supporters, new supporters, look out for new content in the future. I hope you’re as excited as I am for the new year!! Please take care, y’all, and remember that I love you. My inbox is always open 💌 So let’s be friends 😇

#follow forever #mutual appreciation #this banner is so fugly pls don't stare at it for long LMAO #i spent longer than i should have making this @ 3am #went through way too many drafts #but it's worth it if i get to express my love !!#sincerely sorry if i forgot anyone :(( i'm new to this #i wish i could send you all a love letter !!#i would include love to gif/gfx makers but they're gonna see my banner and clown me LOL #happy new year loves <3 #i was afraid to post this bc i didn't wanna be annoying sksks i'm sorry #mutuals

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yukheid · 7 years ago

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Can I just talk about how much I love my mutuals friends for a second here? Like wow you guys mean a lot to me.

Emily, if I hadn’t sent that josh thing to you the night when you made a post about needing some josh stuff, idk bro would we be talking today? I love how I can talk with you about literally anything and you’re like “yES I LIKE THAT THING TOO” or “gurl spill that tea” it doesn’t matter, you listen and it means a lot. We also have the same sense of humor ( *kazoo intensifies* ), and our conversations go on for hours. It’s all nice to have someone who can keep up with my change in pace in convos too, because I don’t have a one track mind and not everyone can stay with me there. You also make me suffer a lot ( still not over what happens earlier in the week a c k ), but in a good way ( and half the time I deserve it 😅 ). Love you lots, Em. Thank you for being my friend ( also when the heck are we gonna form our kazoo/harmonica duo? Whiplash isn’t gonna cover itself )

Destinee ( you are my density back to the future anyone? No? okay moving on... ),I read probably 1/4 of your masterlist just by looking for fluff and stumbling upon your fics each time. Someone I follow reblogged your nct and monsta x kiss thing ( which still has me ruined to this day like wait I didn’t need this wow I’m in pain ), and so I found your blog that way and discovered that you were the one who wrote all the good quality one shots that I stumbled upon. If I hadn’t vented to you about how cute pizza boy vernon was, idk actually, I probably would’ve tried to strike up a convo with you at some point. I love talking with you and sharing our expieences as writers, and just daily things. I get so excited about discussing ideas with you and just sharing knowledge. It’s also fun to send you those random Kihyun and Ten pics out of nowhere and read your responses which mostly come in the form of memes😂 you’re so easy to talk to and I love your enthusiasm. Love you lots Dest

Beck, oh my word. Wow I love you lots, you’re such a strong, amazing woman and I look up to you a lot. You were one of the first few friends I made on tumblr and I’m so glad that you stayed. I love talking with you, because you are 100% like the best mom friend ever. You give the best advice and are never afraid to be as blunt as possible. You’ve helped me learn to stick up for myself more and not tolerate toxic bull crap from my ‘real friends’. You may tease me endlessly, but in the end you’re just being silly and playful and I know you mean zero harm. I know you’ve had bad days, but I’m happy that some good is finally coming around for you. Your snaps make me happy ( FUCCCC )and your makeup game is goddess level like teach me plz. I’m so happy to have someone to gush over girl groups with and just to talk about kpop in general, like the real stuff ( you know what I mean, fandoms, the mama crap, etc ). I hope even more good comes your way. Love you lots Becca.

You all mean so much to me, you’ve brought so much light into my life, more than you know. There have been days where life just sucked, and I just wanted to hide away forever, but a message from you guys instantly brightened me up. Love you all so much💕 @jisoodrinkssopretty @dest-writes @jen0s

#i’m such a sap #I can’t help it I’m sorry #it’s the emo hours my dudes #bethie speaks #my other braincell

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jaeminlore · 7 years ago

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Magic // Hansol Vernon Chwe

the prompt: vernon never liked schoolwork, and you weren’t one for random adventures. however, things can quickly change when you’re with the right person.

words: 7821

category: hogwarts au + fluff

author note: this took literally a year to write or at least that’s what it felt like. anyway this is for marissa (@midnighthansol) who go check out her scenario blog (@skooluvsaffair) bc it’s one of my favorites and she wrote camp counselor!jun for me and i squealed so loudly reading it lol.

ps i want to write for all of hogwarts!seventeen bc it’s so much fun and I’ve already got a hufflepuff!jun coming up so why not more?

- destinee

“Please, Jeonghan?” Vernon begged, stressfully running his hand through his dark locks. “All I’m asking you to do is help me with this potions essay.”

The fellow slytherin, who was casually undoing his tie, rose one of his eyebrows without raising his head. “No, what you’re asking me to do is lose precious sleeping hours. Which, by Jeonghan Law, is actually offensive.”

Vernon rolled his eyes, letting a frustrated groan emit from his lips as he stared at the blank parchment in front of him. “This is due tomorrow morning and if I don’t turn it in I’ll get detention. If I get detention, I won’t be able to go to quidditch practice.”

“Sounds like a personal problem to me,” Jeonghan said smartly, giving Vernon a patronizing pat on the shoulder before heading down the hall to his dorm.

Vernon scowled to himself. Jeonghan was correct. Technically, it was a personal problem, since he was supposed to have this essay finished weeks ago. However, why would one write an essay when they could practice quidditch? Why would one finish research when they have friends to hang out with? Honestly, Vernon felt that his last two years in Hogwarts should be spent having fun. He knew he would regret it if he didn’t explore the castle when he could.

There was a nearly empty box of muggle jellybeans on his table. Vernon couldn’t eat Bertie Bott’s: not since Seungkwan gave him a vomit-flavored one. Instead, Vernon appreciated the simple berry-flavored ones that muggles were content to stick with. Jellybeans were really the only snack that could keep him awake, since the sugar buzzed his brain for just a few minutes while he wrote down his next paragraph.

With a lime jellybean between his teeth and a quill between his fingers, Vernon worked towards his goal of finishing his essay before dawn. He was so concentrated, he couldn’t hear the soft footsteps of his sister descending down the stairs from the girl’s dormitory. It wasn’t until he felt her flick the back of his head that he noticed her. “Ow!” He held his head and turned around, “Sophia!”

His little sister, also in Slytherin, stood in front of him with a letter in her hand. “I talked to Mom and Dad.”

“So? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Sophia huffed childishly and pulled the quill out of her brother’s hand. “I think you’ll want to hear this. I told mom and dad about your horrible study habits. They were worried about you and why you hadn’t owled them.”

“I’ll do it later,” Vernon promised, “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

“You wouldn’t have anything on your plate if you’d just do your assignment the night you get it.”

Vernon ran a hand down his face, distraught, “What do you want?”

“Mom and Dad said to get you a tutor. They want someone who will push you to do your work instead of goofing off until the last minute.”

“Great. I’ll ask Seungkwan tomorrow.”

“Not so fast,” Sophia blocked his efforts. “They said •I• could pick your tutor. After some thought, I’ll choose one and send them your way.”

Vernon groaned and buried his head in his arms. “I always get my work done, though! Why do I need a tutor?”

“Don’t think of them as a tutor.” Sophia patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Think of them as a time manager.”

“That sounds stupid,” Vernon said.

“You sound stupid,” Sophia retorted.

“If you two don’t keep quiet I will take my head boy butt all the way to the headmaster and deduct slytherin points myself!” Jeonghan suddenly hissed from the boy’s dormitory.

“Sorry!” Both Vernon and Sophia replied, rosy-cheeked.

“I promise I’ll find someone nice. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Vernon replied, accepting the quill she was giving back to him.

As soon as she left, he got back to work.

“You’re such an idiot,” you told Seungkwan, your friend who had stuffed five slices of toast into his mouth on a dare from his other friend, Chan. “You’re going to choke.”

“Bo if ot!” he spoke through the bread, which you correctly translated as “no, I’m not”. You drummed your fingers against the wooden table as your fellow Gryffindors cheered Seungkwan on. As he was shoving a sixth slice of toast in, someone tapped your shoulder. You turned around to see Sophia Chwe from Slytherin, only a few inches shorter than you, looking up expectantly.

“Hi, Sophia,” you said. “What’s up?” You knew Sophia because of her brother Vernon, who just so happened to be Seungkwan’s best friend. The two of them were rarely ever seen apart. You had spoken to Vernon on a few occasions, but the two of you couldn’t really be classified as friend yet. Acquaintances seemed to be a better term for your relationship.

Sophia rolled her eyes, “It’s my brother. He’s horrible at time management and my parent’s have asked me to find someone to help him keep a good studying schedule. I thought of you, since you helped me fix my timetables earlier this year. If you don’t want to do it, I get it, but it would be a really big help to him if you could.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. There was nothing else to do at Hogwarts, so you might as well spend more time helping someone. As a pureblood, you had already experienced a lot of the wonder of the wizarding world. It was so normalized for you that Hogwarts seemed like a boring old castle filled with nothing but annoying students and unfair homework assignments. The faster you could get out, the better. Then, you could set off to try and become an auror, and do something exciting with your life. What could be more exciting than catching evil wizards? As boring as tutoring seemed, it might help the year go by quicker. It might get you closer to your goal in a quicker amount of time. “I’ll do it. Just give me a time and place.”

“Oh, the two of you can work that out. I don’t know a sixth year’s schedule.” With that, she turned away to catch up with her own friends, all waiting for her to return before they started their meal. You turned back to your own house, filled with shouting students and Seungkwan, who had just spat out every piece of toast he had shoved into his mouth.

“Count them!” Chan shouted. Every Gryffindor waited for the result. Apparently, Seungcheol from seventh year had been able to fit eight slices into his mouth. According to the sixth years, there was no way they were going to be outranked when it came to eating games. So, however reluctantly, you watched as Seungkwan began to count each slice of toast. Cheers erupted through the hall as he counted out ten whole slices, and you found yourself clapping and cheering along.

Vernon walked in then, his hair messy and his head down as he struggled to tie his tie and walk at the same time. He was always like that, you noticed. His glazed-eyes and the bags beneath them were evidence enough to show that he never got enough sleep. That, and his mismatched outfits. There was always something wrong with his clothing, whether it be misaligned buttons, an upturned collar, or an untucked shirt. Sometimes, he forgot his cloak altogether. During those times, he could be seen around the castle, darting towards the dungeons with the speed of a cheetah. Although it was humorous to watch him walk around like a chicken with it’s head cut off, you knew that his parents were right. It would be so much easier for him if he just managed his time properly.

He finally fixed his tie, and walked over to Seungkwan with a relaxed smile on his face. You could hear them talking and laughing about the intense challenge that Vernon had unfortunately missed. At the sound of your name, you were drawn into the conversation. “Y/n told me I was stupid for trying it.”

Vernon seemed to just notice you for the first time, and his hand immediately went to his rustled locks in an attempt to calm them. “Don’t you have faith in Seungkwan?”

“No,” you snorted.

“None at all?” Seungkwan asked, offended.

“None,” you confirmed cheekily before turning to Vernon. “By the way, your sister asked me to help with your time management? When’s a good time to get together and create some schedules?”

Out of all the people his sister could’ve picked, it had to be the one girl in the entire castle that Vernon had a crush on. It was bad enough that he was always sleep-deprived, with you in front of him there was no way for him to concentrate on anything. Not when his mind was reeling to find topics to talk to you about. He averted his eyes to the table. “Oh. I guess I’m free after dinner tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Don’t you have any free periods earlier than that?”

“I don’t.” The lie slipped off of Vernon’s tongue like honey. Sure, his parent could get him help, but that didn’t mean he was going to listen to you. It definitely didn’t mean he was going to skip his daily activities and adventures just to make up schedules that he didn’t need. Yes, he had a crush on you, but that didn’t mean you had any power over him whatsoever. He wasn’t going to succumb to the holds of something so systematic as time.

“I don’t believe you, but I’ll accept your answer. Meet me in the library at eight o'clock. No later than that, okay?”

“Okay,” Vernon said.

You tapped your fingers against the library table. Your anxious habits only increased as the minutes ticked on. It seemed Vernon had forgotten about your little meeting, or better yet chose not to come at all. Although you understood that he might not want to come, you didn’t expect him to blow you off completely. He could at least have the respect to cancel so you weren’t left looking pathetic in the corner table of the library. Having waited for an hour, you gathered all your completed homework and began to leave the library. It would be closing in a few minutes anyway. Curfew was soon and you needed to return to your common room before a prefect started asking what you were up to.

On your way up the stairs, you could hear footsteps from somewhere below. You and the few other students still hanging around all looked around as Vernon’s voice suddenly shouted, “Y/n! Wait!”

Vernon was in front of you quickly. So quickly, in fact, that he almost ran into you from the full momentum. “I’m so sorry!” His arms waved around frantically as he struggled to explain himself, “Seungkwan and I were looking for a secret passageway and we lost track of time. I promise I wasn’t standing you up.”

He looked so genuinely worried about your reaction that you couldn’t help but believe him. “Well we have an hour until ten, if you still want to work out a schedule.”

Vernon sighed in relief. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go to the Great Hall.”

You agreed, thankful that he hadn’t stood you up.

In the Great Hall was another Slytherin who Vernon greeted as Jeonghan. The older student frowned at the two of you, “How long are you two planning on staying here?”

“Just ‘til curfew,” Vernon answered.

“Alright.” Jeonghan slipped into the headmaster’s seat and slouched against the armrest. “Wake me when it’s curfew.”

Vernon snorted, “You’re the worst head boy in the world.”

Jeonghan shrugged. “I didn’t choose this position. Now try to keep it down.”

You giggled quietly, finding the older boy charming in a lazy sort of way. His calm voice was enough to make you want to pull up a chair beside him and sleep your duties away, but you persisted. Instead, you turned to Vernon, “Let me see your schedule.”

“'Kay,” he turned and shuffled through his bag before finally pulling out a crumbled up piece of parchment. “It’s similar to yours, I bet.”

You hummed, unwrinkling the paper until it was readable and scanning it. “Yes… it’s similar. You don’t have any extra activities besides quidditch, so you have plenty of free time to do homework. How much have you done today?”

“Today?” Vernon rose his eyebrow, “Well, none, but before you yell at me, you should know that my best studying time is between midnight and three in the morning.”

“Is it?” You narrowed your eyes at him, “or is that what you want everyone to think?”

“Seriously,” Vernon insisted, “I can never concentrate before those times.”

“Have you ever tried?”

Vernon was silent for a moment. Then, his cheeks slightly rosier than before, he answered. “Honestly, no. But there’s so much to do!” he protested. “I’ve got to play quidditch with the boys, explore the castle with Seungkwan, visit the kitchen with Mingyu, and all this other stuff.”

“Doesn’t that get boring?” you wondered aloud. “Doing the same thing every day?”

“Who said I was doing the same thing every day?” Vernon asked. “Y/n, do you know how big this castle is? Do you know how long it takes to explore? Do you know how many different foods house elves can make? Have you ever asked them to teach you? Have you ever played a wicked game of quidditch with twelve other boys in the middle of the night with silencing charms above your head? Every day is more fun and more laughter; why would I waste all that time studying?” His smile reached all the way to his eyes, and you could see the genuine spark of pride that slipped in between his dark irises as he explained his daily endeavors. You almost believed him.

“You seriously like this place?” you asked.

Vernon furrowed his eyebrows, and an insulted pout formed at his bottom lip. “Excuse you, this place is one of the greatest places on earth. Why don’t you like it?”

“It’s boring,” you said, “I’ve been to castles before, and wizard homes. To me they’re all the same. I guess magic doesn’t seem very magical anymore. The only thing it’s good for is convenience. I mean, if muggles knew about us, I think they’d stop thinking fantasy is such an interesting genre.”

Vernon scoffed. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Have you ever seen a dragon? If that’s boring to you, then what’s exciting, Y/n? What’s more exciting than a thirty foot tall lizard that shoots fire out of its nose? Humor me.”

“No need to get defensive,” you said, “It’s just a difference of opinion.”

“Oh no, a different of opinion is me liking strawberry ice cream and you liking chocolate. How can you say Hogwarts isn’t magical?”

The poor boy looked ready to cry, and you felt the urge to reach out and pat his shoulder, hug him, anything really that would keep him from getting upset. “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve gotten a bit insensitive to it. Let’s just figure out this schedule and get to bed before we begin another argument.”

Before you could pick up a quill, Vernon had snatched his schedule up and stuffed it in the bottom of his bag. “No way, Miss stick-in-the-mud. We have to figure this magic thing out first. Let’s make a bet. Gryffindors like bets, don’t they?”

You looked at him skeptically, “I guess?”

“Great, so I bet that I can get you to find the magic in magic again. If I win, I don’t have to do this stupid schedule with you. If you win, I’ll stick with the schedule you give me no matter what.”

You couldn’t refuse that offer. “What’s the time limit?”

“One month. Christmas break can mark the end date.”

“Fine. You’ve got yourself a bet, Chwe. When do we start?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered confidently. “Let’s meet in the kitchen at midnight.”

Although you found nothing inherently exciting about kitchens, Vernon seemed ecstatic, so you agreed.

Most of your friends would’ve guessed you’d be in Ravenclaw. You lived a very orderly life, and just weren’t very daring or spontaneous in general. Perhaps it was chivalry that got you into Gryffindor, or perhaps your loyalty to friends. It definitely wasn’t your adhesion to rules. You were one of the best rule-abiding students in the school. Gryffindor’s head boy, Seungcheol, loved you for this reason. It’s also the reason he was so confused when he caught you sneaking out of the common room at midnight. “Y/n? What are you doing up?”

Seungcheol was a wild card, and while he sometimes let students get away with things, you couldn’t count on him to be lenient all of the time. The best thing to do was lie with enough of a sob story that he’d pity you and let you go. That was what you had heard anyway, having never actually tried it yourself. You weren’t sure why you were abandoning reason and the comfort of your warm bed just to meet up with Vernon, whose idea of fun was to visit a kitchen in the middle of the night. You had no idea how that concluded to anything magical, since you had watched muggle television shows and knew for a fact that every teenager went to their kitchen in the middle of the night. Then again, maybe Vernon was unaware of that fact. You were glad you had opted out of wearing your uniform, since the story you were about to feed to Seungcheol would be more believable told in pajamas. “I’ve been studying all night and could really use some nourishment. I was going to the kitchen for a sandwich.”

Seungcheol pursed his lips in mock-thought, and you could see his eyes softening as he looked at your tired features. “All right, go. Be careful and don’t get caught, okay?”

You saluted, “Thanks, Cheolie.”

He waved you off. “Come back quickly.”

In all your nervousness at Seungcheol’s reaction, you realized you had forgotten to ask where the kitchen was, let alone how to get in. After wracking your brain, you remembered something about it being near the Hufflepuff common room. That would be where all the food-lover jokes originated from.

By the time you got to the Hufflepuff common room, you were lost again. There were the familiar barrels stacked against the wall, and you didn’t dare go near them in fear of being doused with vinegar. Instead, you paced back and forth in the corridor, hoping with all your heart that Hufflepuff’s head boy and girl had already finished their rounds for the night. You hugged the hunter green jacket you were wearing closer to your body, in the hopes of preserving some kind of warmth. You had forgotten how cold the castle could get when there were no fireplaces around. Instead, you huddled under one of the few torches heating up the hall, hoping to gain what little heat it let off.

“Y/n!” a voice suddenly hissed, “Over here!” It was Vernon, standing at the end of the hallway. He was hidden in the shadows, his hand over a large portrait of fruit.

You walked closer to him and furrowed your eyebrows. “What are we doing out here? Where’s the kitchen?”

Vernon ruffled his hair nervously, “Ah, well I remembered that I had forgotten to give you directions, so I’ve been waiting outside of the kitchen. It’s right here, see?”

You looked around. “I don’t see any doors.”

“That’s because you aren’t looking deeply enough,” Vernon concluded. “In a magical castle, do you assume every entrance is marked by a door?”

“Yes. That’s what entrances are, Vernon.”

The slytherin tutted, shaking his head from side to side like a disappointed mother. “You have so much to learn. Lesson one: everything is not as it seems. Watch closely.”

As you watched, Vernon reached up on his toes, his fingers grazing over the pear in the fruit portrait. Suddenly, the pear let out a shrieking giggle and a handle appeared on the side of the frame. Your jaw dropped at what had just happened, but you quickly shut your mouth when Vernon turned around, not willing to give him any satisfaction. “Cool right?”

You shrugged indifferently. “I guess. In the end tho, it’s still just a door.”

Vernon held the door open for you, a scowl over his lips at your answer. “You’re impossible. C'mon, we’ve got a lot to do before sunrise.”

“Sunrise?” you balked, swiveling on your heel to face him. “How long are we going to be here?”

Vernon only shrugged, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips.

You ignored him and walked into the kitchen. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you. It was perhaps the largest kitchen you had ever seen in your life. Rows and rows of countertops lined the room, with nearly a dozen stools propped up on each. Upon these stools we’re house elves of different shapes and sizes, each wearing a dishcloth with the Hogwarts symbol embedded across the breast. Each table seemed to represent something. For instance, the one closest to you seemed to be collectively stirring a giant pot of porridge, which you were sure would be eaten tomorrow morning. Others each made hundreds of servings for breakfast the next morning, and you were amazed to see the work that went into the food that always just appeared in front of you.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Vernon asked from beside you. In the light of the kitchen, you could see him better. He looked comfortable in slippers, flannel pajama pants, and an oversized maroon hoodie. His hair seemed damp, as if he had just recently taken his shower, and the ends curled ever so slightly under his ears.

Feeling your gaze, he turned to look at you. His positive features were nearly shining as he searched for some kind of answer in your eyes. Hesitantly, his gaze trailed down your body and his smile widened considerably. “You’re wearing my colors.”

“Huh?” You looked down at your t-shirt. “White is your color?”

“No!” Vernon reached out and tugged on the drawstrings of your jacket. “Green for Slytherins.”

Your face heated up as his fingers drew closer to your neck. You finally pushed him away, “Yeah, well you’re wearing my colors. Your hoodie is red.”

Vernon bit his lip excitedly, “I have an idea for tomorrow, but let’s do what we came to do here first, before I reveal it.”

“What did we come here to do?” you asked.

“We, my dear friend, are going to make Joshua a cake!”

“Who’s Joshua?”

Vernon began walking to one of the empty counters as he answered you, “He’s a Hufflepuff. His birthday is soon and we’re celebrating it early since it falls during Christmas break.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Isn’t there one baker in your giant group of friends that can do it?”

Vernon thought for a moment. “Well, Mingyu is great at cooking so he’s going to sneak in here tomorrow to cook Joshua’s favorite food. He won’t have time to make a cake as well. To help him, I volunteered to bake the cake. Everyone agreed so long as I recruited help.”

“So you recruited someone who has never baked a cake in her life.” you deadpanned.

“Well, dang, it would’ve been nice of you to tell me that before. What teenager has never baked a cake? Like, don’t you ever get the random craving for something sweet?”

“Sometimes,” you supposed, “but I’m fine after a lollipop or something small like a strip of taffy.”

Vernon sighed dejectedly and leaned against the counter, burying his head in his arms. “Why are you so boring? Aren’t Gryffindors supposed to live outside of the box? Aren’t they supposed to be daring and fun and the leaders of the rebellions?”

“I dunno. I don’t know why the hat told me Gryffindor, it just did. I know I’m not daring, but you don’t have to act like it’s a bad thing.”

Vernon pondered your words for a moment. “It’s not a bad thing, it’s just that I seem to remember a certain first year getting detention for sneaking out of the castle. You don’t have that same spirit anymore, do you?”

You blushed and looked away. “That was a long time ago. I don’t really have the same mindset I did when I was twelve years old.”

“So?” he urged, “Where did that mindset go?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I grew up. I know all about magical stuff. Nothing is new to me anymore and nothing is exciting.”

Vernon shoved your shoulder with his own. “Don’t lie to me. I saw your face when you walked in here. You think this is cool.”

“I guess,” you admitted. “Look, Vernon, I don’t have anything against Hogwarts, okay? I’m not sad or depressed either. I just… don’t find magic very interesting. You don’t have to act like I’m a troubled case or something.”

Vernon smirked. “I’m not. I want you to find that mindset again, though. You’ll get it back during our bet. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” you rolled your eyes sardonically. “You won’t win the bet because I don’t find anything interesting.”

Vernon let you play out your little lie. Even though you knew exactly what state of wonder he was talking about, for you had never known that there was a hidden kitchen in the castle. Especially not one filled with cute little house elves and a warm fireplace.

“So I’m thinking four layers chocolate cake will do,” Vernon explained to you as a few house elves brought in the ingredients to make a cake from scratch.

After the two of you thanked them for their help, you replied, “Aren’t four layers too much? How many of you are there?”

“Thirteen.”

“Thirteen? That’s a lot, but it’s not enough for four layers.”

Vernon side-eyed you with a playful smirk, “Clearly, you’ve never seen thirteen teenage boys when they’re starving.”

“Whatever,” you said, “What do we do first?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either, Vernon.”

The two of you stared at the ingredients for a long time before you finally said what both of you were thinking, “Should we ask one of the house elves to help us?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Vernon ran off to find a house elf that wasn’t working.

The house elf, named Inky, was very helpful. She basically baked the entire cake herself, only trusting the two of you to mix the icing ingredients. Once the cake was in the oven, Vernon led you over to the fireplace. There, the two of you could warm yourselves up while you waited for the cake to bake. He decided this was the time to tell you his plan. “Let’s switch houses tomorrow.”

“What?” Your voice was layered in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“Seungkwan and I do it all the time,” Vernon explained as he situated his legs into a criss-cross position. “We switch uniforms and go to each other’s classes. It’s fun because we get to see what each other do every day.”

“But…” You weren’t exactly sure how to explain to Vernon how apprehensive that idea made you. To be honest, everyone knew Vernon could be a bit ditzy sometimes, and it was a miracle if he managed to ever write notes in class. That was fine for him, who studied without notes. You, however, relied on notes like oxygen. They were the only things that helped you remember the material. Without them, you were sure you’d get bad rankings. You weren’t sure you trusted Vernon to write notes for you, “Won’t the teachers get angry?”

Vernon waved your concern away, “They never notice. If they do, they don’t care. If they ever start caring for some reason, the worst we’ll get is detention.”

You sighed. “I don’t like this idea.”

“Please?” Vernon stuck out his lower lip and grabbed your hands, hoping to guilt you into going through with his plan. “I promise I’ll write notes for you. I have to write them for Seungkwan every time we play this game.”

“You promise you’ll write me good notes?”

Vernon smiled brightly. “Yes!”

“Fine. It’s a deal, then.”

Seungkwan brought you Vernon’s robes and tie the next morning, stating that Vernon would be wearing his since yours were probably too small for him. As you pulled the emerald-embossed robes over your head, you couldn’t help but notice how nice they smelt. It was as if Vernon was always carrying around cinnamon and vanilla, for he smelt warmer than a comfortable little bakery.

It felt weird wearing his clothes. It felt even weirder walking over to the Slytherin table instead of Gryffindor, where you usually sat. Jeonghan was there, a familiar face in a sea of green. You hastily sat beside him. “Hello. Can I sit here?”

Jeonghan grinned, “Are you and Vernon playing that weird switch game he likes or did you put on his tie by accident?”

From the tone of his voice, you knew what he was insinuating, and the thought made you blush. “Don’t assume things like that. We’re playing the switching game.”

Jeonghan shrugged, as if it was all the same (either that or he had stopped listening), and took a sip of his coffee. “I didn’t know the two of you were even friends. I knew Vernon liked you, but I thought he was just crushing on someone he couldn’t have.”

“What? Vernon likes me?” Your voice rose an octave at the absurd idea of Vernon Chwe having a crush on you. “Are we talking about the same Vernon?”

“Totally,” Jeonghan answered. “He’s thought you were the cutest thing since your first year with you sneaking around and getting into trouble with your friends.”

You frowned. “We have a bet going. He thinks I’ve lost my sense of magic and I agree. He’s trying to get it back and I’m telling him it’s a lost cause, because I don’t care anymore. Do you think he only wants it back because that’s the part of me he liked? Do you think he’s trying to get that part of me working again so he can like the person he liked a few years ago?”

Jeonghan paused in his actions, his head swiveling around to look at Vernon. You turned too, only to see him look at you and hastily away, ears red at being caught. Jeonghan finally shook his head. “No. Vernon isn’t selfish like that. I don’t know why he made the bet with you, but it definitely isn’t what you’re thinking.”

“Oh.” You nodded. Even if that wasn’t the reason, it felt weird knowing that Vernon had a crush on you. It made you hyper-aware of everything. Why would he have a crush on you? You weren’t anything special. Out of all the students in Hogwarts, there had to be a reason Vernon chose you. Yet, you couldn’t think of any. With a sigh, you gathered your things for Vernon’s first class of the day. “See you at lunch, Jeonghan.”

You learned quickly that Slytherins had to work twice as hard to be noticed as the other houses did. Perhaps it was house pride, but you suspected it was more house prejudice and how much Slytherin had to do with the Second Wizarding War. It didn’t matter how many times you rose your hand, if a Hufflepuff rose theirs as well, you weren’t going to be noticed at all. Save for Professor Longbottom, who gave each house an equal chance to answer questions, most of the professors favored the house they used to be in. Professor Zabini was the only Slytherin professor currently, and he was the flying instructor, so Slytherins never got favoritism from him unless they were first years. You definitely weren’t used to it. After years of constantly being called on, seeing a Slytherin’s perspective was a bit jarring.

You took notes for Vernon, unsure if he would use them or not. He had most of the same classes you did, save a few electives. You were amazed that he had chosen Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, for they were two harder classes you didn’t dare choose. It was funny to think of Vernon in your electives: Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. Yours were rather… easy classes. However, his were practically torture. Note-taking was almost useless as you had no idea what you were writing down. You had no idea what had happened in previous lessons, or what the premise for the professor’s inside jokes were.

By dinner time, when Vernon and you had agreed to switch back, you were mentally exhausted. The electives alone were so engaging that it was no wonder Vernon hated going right back to homework after finishing them. You didn’t want to either. Going back to the kitchen sounded like a better and more fun option. With a visible shudder, you realized Vernon was starting to rub off on you.

Vernon ran up to where you sat eating, with a large grin plastered over his face. “Y/n! Your classes are so much fun! I completely forgot Hagrid did Care of Magical Creatures and now I feel like I want to switch electives.”

You looked at him strangely, “How do you know Hagrid?”

“I have tea with him all the time. Tons of students do it, didn’t you know?”

“Really? He’s invited me for tea before but I thought he was just joking.”

“No!” Vernon slid in the seat beside you and took a sip of the pumpkin juice that appeared before him. “Hagrid loves visitors. He’ll tell you cool stories too. Did you know he knows Harry Potter? Like, the real Harry Potter?”

Seeing Vernon so excited elicited a giggle from you. “No, I didn’t.”

“We’ve got to have tea with him someday. It’s one of my favorite things to do around here.”

“Okay,” you agreed.

Vernon pumped his fist in the air victoriously. “Great! Oh, before I forgot, here are your notes.” He passed you three slips of parchment, each covered front to back with neat handwriting.

You scanned them, feeling your heart warm at how hard Vernon must’ve concentrated to write all these notes for you. Your brain felt fuzzy at how much he must’ve cared to do that for you. What Jeonghan told you during breakfast came to your mind once more. It was a bit easier to believe that Vernon wasn’t doing this to change you when he did nice things like this. “Thanks, Vernon.”

“Well, I know you like all that organized stuff. I tried to write an outline but you can see where I gave up and just copied everything the teacher said.”

“You wrote everything very quickly then,” you complimented.

Vernon blushed, “Well, I may have used an enchanted quill under the table. It’s the thought that counts though!”

“You’re impossible.”

“No wonder you think Hogwarts is boring,” Vernon said the next weekend as the two of you walked towards the quidditch pitch. “You’ve never seen a quidditch game.”

“I have!” you argued. “I watched them in my first and second year before I got bored.”

Vernon sighed as he checked his wrist straps. “Honestly, I think we’re more alike than you think, except we’re reversed.”

“How so?”

“Well, you get bored of after-school activities, so you throw yourself in your schoolwork. I get bored of schoolwork, so I throw myself into playing around after school and ignoring my homework.”

“Huh.” You stopped. “I guess you’re right. So you’ve gotta learn how to open up to schoolwork and I’ve got to learn how to open up to people and having fun.”

“Exactly,” Vernon said. His fellow beater, Minghao, called him over just then and he had to go get ready for the game, which you promised him you’d watch.

As you watched him leave, things seemed to fall into place in your mind. You were wrong. Vernon had never wanted to change you into a different person, he just wanted to show you the things that gave him his spirit. It was all the same, because you wanted to show him how interesting learning could be. How it could eventually help him find a dream career or simply know more about the world. It was as if the two of you were puzzle pieces, trying to fit by trading interests and ideas. Vernon was showing you pieces of his world and in return you were showing him pieces of yours. Each day the two of you were spending together was another day to get closer to understanding the world the other was living in.

With a smile, you walked into the stands to settle beside Seungkwan and the rest of Vernon’s support team. Vernon’s world was becoming more comfortable to you, and you were becoming more aware of the fact that once the bet was done, you would no longer be in it as often.

You desperately hoped you were wrong, because you didn’t think you could leave whatever bond you had with Vernon.

The week before Christmas break, students third year and above were allowed to go to Hogsmeade and buy presents or hang out together. Surprisingly, Vernon had asked you to come with him while he bought a present for Sophia. You had agreed, a bit apprehensive because of the cheeky grin plastered all over his face.

Now you were absolutely regretting your position because Vernon had led you past all the shops in Hogsmeade to an old rickety gate held closed by a lock. His gaze was on the tall house in the distance behind the gate. Your gaze was on him, “The Shrieking Shack? Are you serious?”

“Totally,” Vernon, who had lied about shopping for his sister, answered. “It’s haunted. Werewolves used to transform in there, I heard. I’ve wanted to go exploring for years but Seungkwan hates scary places so he would never agree.”

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?” you asked, eyeing the boy like he was crazy.

He pouted slightly, “C'mon Y/n, please? You can hold my hand if it gets too scary.”

You scoffed. “It won’t get scary. Nothing is in there.”

“If you’re going to be cocky about it, you can go first,” Vernon said. Over the weeks you two had spent together, Vernon had learned that you definitely possessed Gryffindor traits. Stubbornness was one, and the other was not being able to back down from a challenge. He knew that putting you on the spot would guarantee a ready response from you.

“Fine,” you replied, crinkling your nose at his dare. “Let’s go.”

Before Vernon could reply, you had already latched onto the rickety gate and began to climb it. You stopped at the top, one leg on either side of the gate. “Are you coming?”

Vernon licked his lips nervously and looked around. “Yeah, just give me a minute.”

You snickered as Vernon hastily climbed the gate and walked closer to you than necessary. “Just remember you can hold my hand if it gets too scary,” you teased him.

Vernon glared at you as he drew the sleeves of his favorite red hoodie over his fingers. “I’m just nervous is all.”

“You didn’t think I’d agree, did you?”

“No.”

“Well, as long as we’re being honest, I kinda feel like I’m going to pee my pants right now.”

“Seriously?” Vernon chuckled. “Then why are we doing this?”

You shrugged, “It’s more fun than watching couples snog in the Three Broomsticks. Maybe we’ll find a real ghost in there.”

“Don’t say that,” Vernon warned as the two of you neared the back door of the shack. “They might sense us the more you mention them.”

“Why are we so scared? There are ghosts in Hogwarts.”

“Nice ones,” Vernon retorted. “What if there are mean ones in the shack?”

The two of you stared at the closed door. You spoke up first, “You’re the man. Open it.”

Vernon shook his head, “I refuse to conform to your gender stereotypes. You open it.”

You sighed and hesitantly turned the knob. Throwing the door open, you backed up into Vernon, afraid of something jumping out.

Vernon steadied you, and you could feel his breath against your ear and the vibration against your back as he chuckled.

Cheeks burning, you jumped away from him. “Sorry. L-Let’s go.”

As nothing will give two teenagers bravery like avoiding their feelings, you and Vernon both found the shack less scary inside. Refusing to look each other in the eye, the two of you agreed to separate and explore the shack that way. Once alone, however, you realized this was a stupid decision. Yes, you didn’t want to face Vernon after he had unknowingly made your heart beat out of it’s chest, but that didn’t mean you’d rather be attacked by a ghost alone. Besides, this isn’t the first time Vernon had stirred your feelings. Why were the two of you overreacting now?

“Vernon?” you called out in a whisper.

“Y/n?” Vernon asked loudly, fear in his voice. “The ghost just said my name!”

You covered your mouth with your hand to suppress your giggles. Did Vernon genuinely think your whispering was the ghost? If so, this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Y/n can’t answer you now, for I have trapped her upstairs. You’re next, Vernon.”

Vernon let out a shaky breath, “What? What’s going to happen to us?”

“Something you can’t even imagine,” you replied in a croaky voice. You could see Vernon’s back facing you now, so you silently crept up behind him and looked over his shoulder as he looked for the “ghost”. “Hey, Vernon.”

He screamed… loudly. Clutching his heart, he fell to the floor. You fell to the floor as well, overcome with giggles at how well your trick had gone over.

“Y/n!” Vernon whined. “How could you scare me like that? I trusted you!”

“Sorry!” you snorted, clutching your stomach. “It was too funny.”

Vernon shook his head and smiled fondly at you, “You’re despicable. Let’s get out of here before a real ghost comes for us.”

He stood up first, offering his hand. You accepted it. “Agreed.”

Neither of you seemed to notice that as you left the shack, your hands were still intertwined.

A day before you and Vernon went to your homes for Christmas break, and the bet ended, the two of you went to visit Hagrid for tea, at Vernon’s insistence.

Hagrid was your Care of Magical Creatures teacher, and one of your favorite professors. You didn’t know him on a personal level though, so you had no idea what his hut looked like on the inside. You were rather surprised to see a crowded home with raw meat hanging from the ceiling and a drooling dog in the corner, nibbling on a saucer.

“That’s Sphinx,” Vernon informed you, pointing to the dog.

When Hagrid entered, you sidled closer to Vernon. He looked a lot taller and intimidating in the small home. That all faded away as he let out a smile, “If it isn’t Vernon!” He turned to you, “Y/n, from my class! Haven’t seen you before, ‘ave I?”

“No, Sir,” you replied. “Vernon told me I should come see you, though.”

“Finally dating, aye?” Hagrid said. Then, he noticed Vernon frantically shaking his head, so he retracted his statement, “I didn’t mean that, of course. I meant dating as in time periods. That’s what you kids are doing nowadays, right?”

Vernon hid his face in his hands.

You giggled, “Not yet, Hagrid.”

Vernon looked up then, his ears tinted red at the confidence in your voice. He cleared his throat suddenly and turned to Hagrid. “Right then. Tea?”

Hagrid served the two of you freshly brewed tea with scones that were harder than rocks. “Never learned how to soften ‘em,” he said, tossing the leftovers to Sphinx who used them as chew toys. Laughter was traded around, and you realized that Hagrid was actually very friendly and assuring, despite his rough appearance. You could see why so many students liked him. Vernon thought very highly of him; you could see it in the way his eyes shone with admiration for the professor.

You were happy that you had went with Vernon, and you were rather sad when the clock struck six o'clock and it was time to go to dinner. “Can I come visit you again, Hagrid?”

“Course!” Hagrid’s smile reached up to his beetle eyes. “Maybe bring some proper biscuits, though. I would hate to starve you.”

You laughed. “I’m afraid I can’t bake any better than you, but I’ll try to bribe someone into making them for us.”

Hagrid wished the two of you goodbye. The walk up to Hogwarts was silent. In fact, you realized, Vernon had been abnormally quiet since your little dating comment. “Are you okay, Vernon?”

He stopped in his spot, his feet instantly shuffling in their place as he struggled to bring up what was bothering him. Finally, he ushered you over to the side of the yard for privacy. “What did you mean when you told Hagrid not yet?”

“I meant that we aren’t dating yet,” you answered.

Vernon nodded, “But did you mean that you wanted us to date, or was it just a passing comment? Because “not yet” usually implies that it will happen eventually, so that would mean you want it to happen eventually, right?“

You reached for Vernon’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Calm down, would you? I want to date you, Vernon. That’s all I meant.”

“Oh,” Vernon suddenly got shy. “Then, can I kiss you? Just to seal the deal?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Vernon looked nervous as he hesitantly cupped your face and leaned in. His nose bumped against yours, and he chuckled nervously before capturing your lips with his own. You clutched the fabric of his ever-present hoodie and pulled his body closer to you. His lips were so warm, so soft and velvety that you found yourself reluctant to pull away. Especially when his breaths turned into soft sighs against your mouth, making you subconsciously crave more. You pulled away slowly, “We’re going to get caught if we don’t stop.”

He rolled his eyes at your comment, a fond smirk already forming as he grabbed your hand.

The two of you walked into the castle together, and he took the moment to lean in and peck your cheek, “It’d be so worth it, though.”

“Vernon!”

~the end~

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