#fun fact i got a C in that class

[mari-positas]

researching for this marcus acacius fic like i’m back in high school world history class trying to pass my final

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝓘𝓯 𝓘 𝓦𝓪𝓼 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭…☆━━━━━━━…‥・

Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: A little suggestive, nothing too crazy

Tags: Fluff, kind of obsessed, little bit of foot worship lmao

Word Count: 4,695 (got a little carried away - didn't mean for it to be this long lol)

Inspiration: “If I Was Your Girlfriend” – Prince

Synopsis: Mark just needs to be close to you dammit and he can’t stand that you’ll be that way with your girl friends but not him >:(

Mark had never been the jealous type.

When the other kids on his baseball team would hit homeruns as a child, he would just cheer loudly; happy for their success and never once weighing them against his own shortcomings. In school, if his friends aced a test he would smile warmly and give them an encouraging pat to the back – even if he himself had barely managed to pull off a C+. He never viewed others as competition, truly believing there was enough goodness and success in this world to go around.

So why, then, did he so often now find himself leering at your friends?

You all were apart of the same clique in high school, eating lunch together and mingling in the halls between classes. The girls of the group, however, naturally seemed to gravitate toward one another, their conversations often filled with hushed chatter and occasional high-pitched giggles as the sweet smell of candy and flowers lingered in the air around them. It was both intoxicating, and intimidating.

He’d sit with William, only a few feet away but feeling like he might as well have been on the other side of the planet. And to make matters worse, William seemed to have the ability to easily flow between conversations – talking with Mark one minute then turning out of nowhere towards the feminine energy, picking up on something in the girl’s discourse that piqued his interest. They’d welcome his input, it always seeming to inevitably end in a chorus of laughter. How the hell did William do that? And why couldn’t Mark do the same?

Through the muddled noises of the girl’s tittering together, Mark always managed to single out your voice. It called to him like a siren’s song, his eyes lingering on the side of your perfect face as you smiled, lips parted and eyes closed. God, you were so perfect.

Occasionally, he’d find some buried courage within himself to try and join in the laughter – sliding a bit closer in your direction as he chuckled unsurely. And every time, the groups giggles would quickly die away, suddenly everyone seeming to need to clear their throats and look away. But not you. Your smile would linger as you turned your beautiful eyes onto him, leaving Mark struck dumb.

Most days though he would just watch from the outside as you all conversed together, his stare growing heavy as he looked between the other girls. Why were they all so greedy? Wasn’t Mark allowed in on the fun too? He wanted to laugh, dammit, and be in on the joke with you. In fact, he wanted you to laugh at his joke for once, and curl your lips upward because he said something that you liked. Was that really too much to ask for?

His internal struggle only seemed to worsen as he graduated high school and you both moved on to college. He was over the moon when he found out the two of you shared a class – introductory to physical geography. Mark was notoriously bad with this subject, and for once that seemed to work in his favor as study sessions became the new norm between the two of you.

And that brought him to where he sat today, cross-legged on your dorm room floor surrounded by textbooks, maps, and a heap of highlighters.

Your space was cozy, warm with the soft glow of a desk lamp accompanied by the quiet hum of music in the background. You were laid on your stomach across the bed, flipping through notes with a furrowed brow as you lost yourself in the studies.

Mark glanced up from the textbook in his lap, but his eyes didn’t land on the topographic map he was supposed to be memorizing. Instead, they found you.

You were chewing on the end of a pen, brows drawn together as you underlined something in your notebook. You looked tired—but beautiful. God, even the way your foot swung lazily in the air behind you had him captivated. He wasn’t even sure he was blinking anymore.

“You okay?” you asked suddenly, not looking up.

His heart jumped. “Huh? Yeah. Totally. Why?”

You finally lifted your head to look at him, and it took everything in him not to melt under your gaze. “You’ve been staring at the same page for, like, five minutes.”

“Oh.” He chuckled nervously and looked back down at the map, heat rising to his cheeks. “Guess I’m just... zoning out.”

You hummed, rolling onto your side so you could face him properly. “Want me to quiz you on drainage patterns again?”

He groaned theatrically and flopped back onto the floor, covering his eyes with one arm. “Not the drainage patterns…”

You laughed—really laughed—and he felt it bloom inside him like warmth from a sunbeam. It was such a rare sound, at least when he was the cause of it, that it left him stunned for a moment. He peeked out from under his arm to see you smiling, chin resting on your hand.

“What?” he asked, softer this time.

You shrugged, but your gaze didn’t leave his. “Nothing. You’re just funny sometimes.”

“Funny ‘haha’ or funny ‘weird’?”

You pretended to think for a second, then grinned. “A little bit of both.”

He grinned back, because God, that was something, wasn’t it? He could take ‘a little bit of both’ if it meant you were looking at him like that.

For a beat, neither of you said anything. The music in the background shifted to a slower track, something dreamy and low, and Mark let himself imagine—just for a second—what it would be like to move from this floor to your bed, to lay beside you and talk about the constellations or your favorite song or whether you ever thought about kissing someone like him.

And before he could stop himself, he said:

“Can I dress you?”

You blinked. “What?”

His brain practically short-circuited. “I—I mean not like that! I mean—not in a weird way! Not like… dress you-dress you. Just like, clothes. You. I mean—” He groaned and ran a hand down his face. “I heard you’re going to that concert this weekend and I thought… maybe I could help you pick out an outfit?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, clearly amused but unconvinced. “Mark… what are you even on about?”

He blinked, a little stunned by your reaction—like he’d genuinely expected you to take him seriously. You turned back to your notes, head lowering to refocus on the page.

But Mark didn’t move.

He stared for another second, then leaned forward, brows pulling together as something clenched in his chest.

“Aren’t we friends?” he asked suddenly, voice low and a little sharp around the edges.

You paused, pen halfway to the paper.

“I mean,” he went on, gesturing vaguely toward the room, the books, you, “you go shopping and hang out with your girl friends all the time. You laugh and do all this fun, random stuff with them, and no one thinks it’s weird when they pick out your outfits or tell you what shoes to wear or whatever. But I say one thing—one slightly weird thing—and suddenly it’s like I’m crazy.”

You turned your head slowly to look at him again, this time blinking in surprise.

Mark huffed, crossing his arms. “I just thought it would be fun. Like, something friends do.”

He sounded a little pouty now, and maybe he knew it, but he wasn’t backing down. Not when he’d finally gotten a tiny bit of the closeness he’d wanted for so long. Not when he could almost taste what it’d be like to be on the inside of your world, just a little more than before.

“You never let me in,” he muttered under his breath. “Not really.”

You stared at him, mouth parting like you wanted to say something—but the words didn’t come right away. The moment stretched out between you, thick and awkward and a little bit raw.

“I didn’t mean to make it weird,” Mark added quickly, voice softer now, “I just… I don’t know. I wanna know you like they know you.”

You sat up slowly, brow furrowed, clearly trying to make sense of everything he just said.

“Of course we’re friends, Mark,” you said, your voice careful but confused. “But… I mean… girls do that stuff. We help each other pick out outfits, and gossip, and vent about boy problems—”

“Boy problems??” Mark cut in, practically lurching forward.

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Are you having boy problems?” he repeated, eyes narrowing with an intensity that would’ve been comical if he didn’t look so genuinely concerned. “Is someone bothering you? Who is it? What’d he do?”

You blinked. “Wait—what? No, that’s not what I meant—”

“Because if a guy is messing with you,” he went on, his voice rising a little, “I swear I’ll—”

“Mark!” you said, loud enough to cut through his minor spiral. He froze mid-sentence, still visibly buzzing with protective energy.

You stared at him, unsure if you were about to laugh or throw a pillow at him. “Oh my god. I meant in general. Like, when girls talk to each other, that’s what we talk about. I wasn’t saying I have some guy hurting my feelings right now.”

“Oh,” he said, deflating slightly. “Right. Yeah. That makes sense. Totally.”

He looked away for a second, rubbing the back of his neck, and muttered under his breath, “...would’ve kicked his ass, though.”

You snorted despite yourself, grabbing a pillow off your bed and tossing it lightly at him. “Mark.”

He caught it with a grin that he tried to hide behind mock indignation. “What? I’m just being a good friend, remember?”

Your expression softened a little, but the confusion didn’t leave your eyes. “You’re a very… intense friend sometimes.”

Mark shrugged, half-smiling. “Guess I just like being around you more than most people.”

There it was again—that earnestness. It clung to his voice like honey. Not quite a confession, not really a joke. Just enough to leave you wondering what exactly he meant.

You gave him a look—equal parts fond and exasperated—but didn’t press the weirdness any further. The moment seemed to settle, the earlier tension dissolving into something more comfortable. You turned back toward your notes, laying flat on your stomach again, chin propped in your hand as your other foot swayed lazily in the air.

Mark watched you for a moment from the floor, half-expecting his heart to settle too. It didn’t.

His eyes drifted to your foot.

It was moving rhythmically, back and forth like it had a mind of its own. He followed it with his gaze, fixated. A quiet little thought popped into his head—uninvited, but not unwelcome.

Before he could question it, Mark stood up and made his way over to the bed. Without thinking, he sat right beside you, staring down at your foot like it had personally challenged him to a duel.

“Maybe I could paint your toenails,” he said.

You didn’t respond at first, clearly thinking you’d misheard him.

“…What?”

Mark’s hand was already around your ankle, gently lifting your foot like it was the most normal thing in the world. He looked at it thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah. I could totally do it. You have good feet for it.”

“Mark!”

He looked at you innocently. “What? I’m serious! I’ve got a steady hand. I could do, like… stripes. Or little flowers. Maybe stars? That’d be cool.”

You stared at him like he’d just offered to build you a rocket ship out of Q-tips.

“I cannot tell if you’re messing with me or having a mental breakdown in real time.”

“Can’t it be both?” he said, smirking now, still cradling your foot like it was the most natural thing ever.

You covered your face with your hands, muffling a laugh into your palms. “Oh my god.”

“What color would you go for, anyway?” he asked, gently wiggling your toes like he was already imagining the polish. “Something bright? Black? Maybe that dusty pink thing you wore last month?”

Your hands slid down your face just enough to peek at him through your fingers. “You noticed my toenail color last month?”

“I notice everything about you,” he said plainly.

And the thing was—he did. He really, truly did.

He noticed the way you scrunched your nose when you were concentrating. The way you flipped your pen between your fingers when you were trying to remember something. The way you always tugged your sleeve over your hand when the AC was too strong in the classroom.

And yeah—he noticed your feet.

It wasn’t like a thing, not really. He didn’t plan to notice them. It just… happened. Like the way your sneakers would dangle from one foot when you were sitting cross-legged, or how your toenails always seemed to be painted in these soft, thoughtful colors. Once, you’d had tiny stars drawn on your big toes, and he hadn’t been able to stop glancing at them the entire group study session.

Now he was actually holding one of those feet.

His thumb moved without him really telling it to, tracing gently along the arch, then rubbing slow circles into your heel. Your skin was soft. Warmer than he expected. And your toes were so... cute. Ridiculously cute. Delicate, even. The kind of detail he wouldn’t normally think twice about, but now it felt like he was touching something private. Sacred.

A weird warmth coiled low in his stomach, catching him off guard. He swallowed hard.

Wait.

No.

No, no, no.

He wasn’t a foot guy. He wasn’t. That wasn’t his thing. That had never been his thing.

So then why was his brain stalling? Why was his heart picking up speed like this? Why was he imagining kissing the tops of your toes and thinking it would be the most intimate thing in the entire universe?

What the hell is wrong with him?

He shifted slightly, trying to hide the rising flush in his cheeks, still absently rubbing your foot as if he hadn’t just mentally broken into an entirely new category of emotional—and maybe physical—confusion.

God. If William ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it.

But you weren’t pulling away. You were still laying there, letting him touch you, your shoulders gently rising and falling with your breath.

And somehow that made the heat in his chest worse. Made the moment feel heavier. Like something he wasn’t supposed to have—wasn’t even supposed to want—was suddenly right here in his hands.

Mark’s thumb brushed slowly across the top of your foot again.

You still didn’t move.

He blinked, watching your body for any kind of reaction—any twitch, any hint of discomfort. But all he could see was the slow rise and fall of your back as you laid there, face turned slightly away, quiet and calm.

And still, your foot stayed right there in his hand.

His heart skipped a beat.

Wait... is she into this?

He froze, eyes locked on your ankle like it had suddenly become a sacred object. His brain scrambled—grabbing at signs, trying to piece together the puzzle like it was some kind of test with no answer key. You weren’t pulling away. You weren’t laughing at him. You were letting it happen.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

She’s letting me touch her. She’s letting me hold her like this. Maybe—maybe she wants this?

And in a sudden wave of breathless, clumsy, Mark Grayson confidence, the kind that usually came right before he got punched in the face by a supervillain, he thought:

Just do it.

No more thinking. No more waiting.

Just do it.

He leaned in. No hesitation this time. And without another word—without asking, without explaining—he pressed his lips to your toes. A soft, warm kiss. Tender. Deliberate.

It wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t even romantic in the traditional sense. It was something else entirely—quiet and reverent, like he was thanking them for carrying you through the world, for letting him be this close, just for a second.

And when he pulled back, heart thudding in his chest, he didn’t move.

He just looked up at you.

Waiting.

Mark pulled back slowly, eyes wide and searching your face for any sign of… anything, really. He had no idea what was going on right now, but something was happening, and it was either going to go terribly wrong or way better than he had imagined.

The silence between you stretched out longer than he expected. You didn’t move—didn’t say anything—just stayed still, propped up on your arms, your foot still gently in his hand. But the weight of the moment was thick, pressing against him, making his stomach churn.

And then, slowly, like a wave crashing toward him, you turned your head.

Your eyes found his, a flicker of confusion dancing in them as you met his gaze. You didn’t say anything right away. You just looked at him, your brow furrowing slightly. Then, you parted your lips, exhaling just a little as you said, barely above a whisper, “Mark…”

His heart hammered in his chest. Oh God. Oh God, what the hell was she thinking?

He quickly glanced away, biting his lip nervously. “What? I mean… what’s the big deal? Isn’t this what friends do?”

It came out so much faster than he meant, a forced attempt at nonchalance that was painfully obvious. His eyes were wide, maybe a little too wide, but he couldn’t help it. Oh God, I can’t believe I said that.

“You know, like… helping each other out, right? With stuff. I thought… I thought you might want me to do something nice for you or whatever.” He was spiraling now, digging himself deeper and deeper. “Like, friends help each other pick out outfits or—”

But then he trailed off, realizing how insane he sounded.

Your expression didn’t change much—still that slight confusion, but now something else, too. A spark of humor? A glimmer of something else he couldn’t read?

He swallowed hard. He had no idea what to do next. His whole body was practically vibrating with the intensity of everything he’d just done.

“Well?” he managed, trying to salvage some kind of dignity. “Isn’t that what… what friends do?”

You stared at him for a beat longer, just long enough to let the silence hang heavy between you. Mark was practically sweating, looking anywhere but directly at you, and it was… almost adorable. Almost.

Then, a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Just a hint of mischief, something playful, but not mean. You tilted your head ever so slightly, and the words tumbled out before you could stop them:

“Friends, huh?” You let the word hang in the air, slowly leaning back on your elbows. “So, you’d do this to… oh, I dunno, William?”

Mark froze, his eyes snapping to yours like he’d been slapped with cold water. His mind scrambled to catch up with your teasing tone.

“Wha—what?” he stammered, now visibly flustered. “No, I mean, not William! I—I’m just—look, it’s different with you! You’re my… my friend, and—”

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk only widening at his increasing panic. “Different, huh? So you’d kiss William’s toes? Is that what you’re saying?”

Mark’s eyes widened even further as his brain absolutely went haywire. “I—I—No! No, of course not!” he blurted, hands flailing awkwardly. “I didn’t mean—God, that’s—no, just—look, you’re—you’re different, okay?” He paused, biting his lip like he was trying to hold back an entire speech that he couldn’t quite figure out. “I just… you’re… you. And I…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. You leaned back on your arms, grinning slyly, watching the storm inside his brain, thoroughly enjoying every second of it. Slowly, deliberately, you spread your toes apart—just a little—enough that the movement caught his eye, the stretch of your foot making the room feel even closer.

“Is it my toes you like,” you asked, voice teasing, “or maybe, is it… me?”

Mark froze.

His heart skipped a beat, then pounded loudly in his chest. He blinked rapidly, face flushed as his gaze locked on your foot once again. He could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, a mix of confusion and something else he wasn’t sure he had the courage to face.

“You—you—what—what are you—” His words faltered, his brain scrambling to make sense of your teasing tone and the way your foot had just moved. Were you playing with him? Testing him? Or were you serious?

No. No, no, no, she couldn’t be serious. This was a joke.

But his heart was thudding too loudly in his ears for him to think clearly.

The corner of your mouth twitched upwards as you leaned in just slightly, your playful smirk never fading. “Well, Mark,” you said, your voice low and almost teasing, “are you gonna answer me?”

Mark’s mind went blank. His pulse was racing. His whole body tensed, frozen in a mix of terror and need. He could feel his chest tightening as your words hung in the air, spinning in his head like some impossible puzzle he couldn’t solve.

He was spiraling.

If he didn’t answer—if he didn’t say something now, this moment, this tension, was going to stretch out forever, and it would be so much worse than just admitting it. His palms were sweating, his heart pounding in his throat.

Just say something. Anything.

His eyes flickered between your smirk and the way your foot rested in his hand. Then, without thinking—without considering how ridiculous it sounded—he blurted it out in a single breath:

“You. I like you. All of you.”

He swallowed hard, the words coming out faster than he could stop them. “Not just your toes. I mean, yeah, your toes are cute and all, but... that’s not the point! I—I like you, okay? All of you.”

The confession hung in the air like a heavy weight.

Mark’s face flushed a deep red as he realized what had just tumbled out of his mouth. He opened his mouth again, ready to apologize, or explain, or somehow unsay what he’d just said. But no words came.

Instead, he just sat there, staring at you, his eyes wide with shock and embarrassment, waiting for whatever came next.

The words hung in the air between you like a live wire, crackling with unspoken meaning. Mark was still sitting there, frozen in place, completely vulnerable, his mind still trying to process everything that had just escaped his lips. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might burst.

You didn’t say anything right away. Instead, you just watched him, your gaze intense, studying him like you could see straight through him. Your chest rose and fell, just slightly, and Mark couldn’t help but notice how close the two of you were now, the tension practically vibrating between you.

And then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, you spoke.

Your voice was quieter now, softer—but laced with something Mark couldn’t quite place. Something daring.

“Then prove it.”

Mark blinked, his stomach lurching at the words.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, his pulse spiking again. His eyes widened, and for a moment, it was like everything around him disappeared. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

All he could do was stare at you, completely caught off guard by your response.

You weren’t laughing. You weren’t shying away. You were just looking at him—waiting. Quietly, calmly, but with a certain expectation in your eyes.

The weight of your words pressed down on him like a thousand pounds.

Prove it?

His brain sputtered. What did that mean? How did he even begin to prove something like this? He could barely even comprehend what was happening right now, let alone how to react.

But deep down, he knew. He knew exactly what you were asking. And he knew—knew—there was only one way forward.

Without thinking, without hesitation, Mark leaned in closer, his hand falling away from your foot as his body instinctively moved toward you. His heart was hammering in his chest, clouded eyes never leaving yours as the tension between you both thickened with each passing moment.

He slowly crawled up the bed, inch by inch, as if his body was acting on its own, taking over, moving closer to you with a sense of inevitability. He stopped above you, staring down at the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—your hair fanned out around your head, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips looked so inviting, so right.

He swallowed hard, his arm trembling on either side of your head as he held himself up above you. But then, without thinking about it any longer, Mark leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. The contact was light, hesitant, just a test—an almost unsure kiss. He pulled away quickly, unsure of what he was doing, his heart racing in his chest. Was it too much? Too soon?

But you didn’t pull back. You didn’t shy away.

That was all he needed. His breath hitched, and before he could second-guess himself, Mark dove back into the kiss. This time, it was deeper, firmer, the hesitation melting away as he found himself falling into it, like a man starved. His lips moved against yours with increasing urgency, his hand finding your face, gently cupping it, as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

The kiss was clumsy at first, raw, desperate—Mark couldn’t help himself. He wanted you. Needed you. And you were finally here, pinned beneath him, in this moment. His body pressed against yours, his chest tight, his hands roving across your skin, his fingers trembling as he explored.

His lips parted nervously, but you immediately reciprocated – was this all a dream? His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting you like this for the first time. He couldn’t help the groan that rumbled through his chest, his hips subconsciously pressing down harder into yours. And you, in turn, back immediately painfully aware of the hard length pulsing against your inner thigh.

After a time that felt way to short in Mark’s opinion, you gently pushed him away, just enough to create some distance between you. Mark’s chest heaved as he pulled back slightly, his eyes wide, still clouded with a mix of desperation and shock. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body still buzzing with the intensity of the kiss.

His hands hovered uncertainly in the air as if they didn’t know what to do without you there. “Wait… what—what’s happening?” he gasped, his voice a little shaky, trying to make sense of what just happened.

You smiled softly, teasingly, a playful glint in your eyes as you looked up at him, enjoying the way his expression was still a mix of confusion and urgency. You let your head fall back down into the bed, your posture relaxed, while his body still felt tense, like he was poised to dive right back into it.

“Yeah,” you said with a little shrug, “that’s not what friends do, Mark.” The teasing smirk on your face only deepened, and your voice lowered into something more playful as you added, “You really gonna tell me that friends kiss like that?”

Mark blinked, looking almost flustered by the teasing, but his expression quickly morphed into something more determined—more sincere. He leaned in a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper, his words coming out with a mix of uncertainty and raw honesty.

“If the friend is you?” he said, his gaze intense, “Then God I hope so.”

[plutoslastwords]

I see lando as a single dad too and I was wondering if you’d ever write daughter!reader when she’s a teenager and is going through, well her first menstrual cycle and he’s so completely lost lol

shark week

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: lando has no idea how a woman's body works, baby norris doesn't listen in health class. the outcome? chaos.

warnings: your first period?

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: okay so i know that it may be unrealistic that a 12 year old would have never heard of a period but idc. it works in the story. sorry for being so mia!! school is terrible atm 😩😩 love you all!! promise i am working on the requests xx

~~~

Going to high school in Monaco was not fun at the best of times.

Everyone says that surely it must be great! It’s Monaco! But when you don’t speak the language fluently - though you have got quite good after living there for 12 years of your life - and have just transferred to a new secondary school where you know no one, life isn’t great. 

Everyone in Monaco has one or two parents who are rich and famous in some way, meaning you can’t even pull the famous dad card to get yourself some friends. You’re stuck sitting alone at lunch, and being picked last for every team.

Lando hates it. He hates it so so much. He doesn't think he can stand seeing his baby coming home sad every afternoon, and he hates how sometimes he can’t be there to comfort you when life is feeling especially tough. He’s debated many a time just sending you to a boarding school back in England, where at least you could speak the same language as the kids there, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to cope with being apart from you for that much of the year.

Therefore, both you and your dad just have to cope with the unfortunate situations, hoping and wishing that soon enough you’ll find your own feet and make some friends. 

Back to the fact that school in Monaco isn’t great on the best days, school in Monaco is absolute hell on the worst days.

On this particular day, you were sitting in Maths class, your least favourite, how were you meant to be able to understand maths in French when you didn’t even understand it in English. It was whilst the teacher was going on about something to do with algebra that you decided that you’d had enough, you put your hand up and quickly asked to go to the bathroom, you weren’t bothered about this anymore.

You took your normal long route around school to get to the bathrooms, having no intention of going back to your maths class anytime soon. You finally get to the bathrooms and it is there that you learn that you’re going to die.

You know that it is not normal to have blood in your pants. It can’t be normal. You must be dying. You sit there in shock for a moment, before starting to hyperventilate and presume the worst. 

When looking back, Lando knows that it is probably his fault that you got yourself into this situation. You never really listened in your Health classes, as they were all in French, and so it was probably his responsibility to educate you on what was going to happen at a certain point, but he’s still just a young guy, that was not top of his list of what he wanted to talk to his preteen daughter about!

You sit in the bathroom stall sobbing and shaking, surely this is the end, you were practically waiting for the Grim Reaper himself to come and pluck you away. In your disorientated mind the only thing that you can think to do is call Lando.

“Daddy I’m dying!” You bawl into the phone, the words barely coming out through your intense sobs.

Immediately Lando drops everything he was doing, freezing at your distressed tone, his mind going straight to the worst. “Baby?!? What’s going on, are you okay?!?” He practically shouts down the phone.

“No!!” You sob, “I’m dying!!!! Daddy please pick me up I-” You don’t finish your sentence because enough intense sob comes in the way and you fall back into hysterically crying.

Lando doesn’t even think twice before leaping up from his desk and rushing to grab his car keys. “I’m on my way, my angel, you’re gonna be okay, daddy’s gonna look after you.” He tries to soothe, but the worry in his voice is evident. 

When he arrives you’re still a sobbing mess, but you have to drag your tear stained body out of the cubicle and to the front office in order to be dismissed. When you see Lando you immediately jump into his arms, sobs wracking your body.

“Oh darling…”  He says, brokenly, he hates seeing you like this, “What’s happened, my love?” 

You don’t respond, too distressed, he seems to get the message and manoeuvres you to the car, where he drives home as quick as he can, to get you someplace familiar, hoping that that will soothe you slightly.

It works, partially. By the time that you’re home your sobbing has lessened, but you’re still nowhere near stable, still almost shaking with the fear that you’re feeling. Lando sits you down on the sofa with a glass of water, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Baby, tell me what’s going on.”

“I-I’m dying!! I’m bleeding and I’m dying!” You sniffle.

Suddenly everything clicks for Lando and then his mind goes completely blank. Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. He was not ready for this day, not ready whatsoever. 

“I-uhm-oh.” He stutters, not knowing what to say. “Y-you’re not dying, sweetheart, okay?”

“Yes I am!!! I’m dying!!!”

He has no idea what to do. He was hoping he had a year or two left before today came, but apparently luck was not on his side. He sits there, staring blankly at you, as you continue to cry. 

“Baby, I promise you you’re not dying, why don’t you go change your clothes and I’ll come up to your room in a sec and we’ll chat, okay?”

You shuffle to your room, still sobbing but if you’re dad seems so confident that you’re okay, then surely that means something…?

Lando paces around in a panic downstairs, waiting for his sister to answer the damn phone. There is no way that he can be doing this with no help.

After a horrible phone call, with a lot of him being laughed at by his sister for having a 12 year old daughter and still knowing fuck all about the menstrual cycle, he feels more prepared to actually talk to you.

You’re sitting in your bed, covered in blankets and watching a movie when he knocks at your door.

“Darling, can I come in?” 

You hum in response, tired from all of the sobbing and therefore not bothered to actually speak. He enters, with a shopping bag in his hand.

“How're you feeling, my angel?”

You shrug, curling up smaller in your blanket ball.

“Oh, baby, you’re okay, I promise, it’s all natural, okay?”

“Doesn’t feel natural…”

“It’s your period, angel. It’s your body getting ready for pregnancy”

You pull a face of absolute horror at that, “I’m pregnant?!??!”

His eyes widen and he backtracks immediately “No, no, no, no, you’re not pregnant, absolutely not.” He shudders at the thought, “It’s just so that maybe, at some point in the future, if you do get pregnant, your body is gonna be prepared…”

“So I’m gonna bleed until I get pregnant?”

“No, no, just for a couple days every month…”

“For how long?”

“Uhm, I’m not sure about that… like until your 40? I don’t know…”

“40?!??!?! I don’t want to bleed every month until I’m 40!!!!”

“I know, baby, but it’s just something that all women have to go through, it’s just a natural part of life, you’ll learn to cope with it…”

You pause, taking in his words, before eventually nodding in understanding, but that doesn’t mean that you’re done talking, much to Lando’s dismay, who’d quite like to get this conversation over and done with.

“So why do I need to bleed to be ready for pregnancy?” You question.

Lando knows this one, he practised it on the phone with his sister, “It’s the wall of your uterus shedding-”

“Ew.”

“Because your body got itself ready to be pregnant, and then obviously the egg was never fertilised.”

“So if I did get pregnant then I wouldn’t get my period?”

“Yes, I think.”

“Hm.”

“It’s all very normal, sweetheart, this just means that you’re healthy, okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Good..” He smiles, “You all good?”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“What am I gonna do now..? With, you know, uhm- I don’t wanna ruin all my underwear…”

“Oh! Yes, that..” He reaches into his bag, “So, uh- these will stick on top of your underwear, and like uh- catch the blood, I guess.. And then you throw them away after wearing them for like 5 hours or so… That sound okay?”

You nod, slightly sceptical, but oh well.

Eventually, Lando leaves to go and do his own thing, and you stew in the knowledge of your new life. After getting yourself showered and cleaned up, as well as trying your new items, you shuffle downstairs, just needing a hug.

“Hey, baby…” Your dad smiles, as he sits on the tv, watching some nonsense reality show.

You don’t reply, just nestling yourself next to him, needing his comforting touch. He smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“My baby… getting so big… daddy loves you, more than anything…”

~~~

a/n: fank you for reading!!11 send in any requests xx

[aur0ral1ghts]

ᴍɪɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ დ

ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴄʟᴀss.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs; ᴍɪɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ. (ᴅᴜʜ.) ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙɪᴛ ᴏғ ғʟᴜғғ. ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ. sʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ.

Mattheo Riddle has always had an interest for Y/n, the way she would scoff during arguments, or the way she would flip her h/c hair. He would always find a way to insult her. He loved the way her cheeks would get all red and flustered as she spat out an insult back. He gained a small obsession with Y/n. He wanted to ruin her and destroy her in every way possible. At every given chance, he would tease her until she snaps. One time, Y/n ended up slapping Mattheo out of anger. He couldn't help but smirk once he felt her hand slap him across the face. He didn't even wince at the pain.

"Mattheo Riddle!" Y/n calls out as she stomps angrily towards him. He turns around, his eyes filled with curiosity. "Yes?" He smiles innocently. "Did you steal my homework!" She yells, standing in front of him. "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't." His smile turns into a smirk. "I spent 2 days writing that assignment. What did you do with it!?" She asks, obersving his facial expressions. "I may have burnt it for fun." He admits. "Are you fucking serious?" I groan. "What? It was fun to burn." He shrugs, looking down at her. Then he felt it. A slap across his face, his cheek turning red, his face burning, but he didn't care. He couldn't help but smirk. "You'll pay for this!" She yells before walking off. Mattheo watches as she walks away, his hand still on his cheek.

Y/n hated Mattheo Riddle. Even though they had mutual friends, she couldn't stand him. She couldn't stand his annoying smirk. She couldn't stand his stupidly high ego and how hot he just had to be. She hated how she had memorized every single scar on his face she absolutely hated it. So she pushed down her feelings deep deep down and never gave them a second thought. He would always find a way to pick on Y/n for every one of her flaws, whenever if it's her grades, potion making skills, or her hair, he always found a way to make fun of her hair, even though Mattheo secretly loved it. He imagined himself laying in bed with you, playing with your long waist length hair.

Mattheo Riddle and Y/n had a whole lot of tension between them. Every time they would argue, the tension between them were undeniable. Even their friends have realized. Mattheos friends, Theodore Nott, and Blasie Zabini, two of his closet friends since childhood, placed a bet. They betted that on the end of their 7th year, they would get together. Theodore betted around 100 gallons that they would get together. Blaise also betted 100 gallons that they weren't getting together. Even the teachers noticed their tension. So much, in fact, Professor McGonagall had placed their seats together.

"Y/n?" Mattheo whispers. "What?" She hisses back. "Can I borrow a quill?" He asks, leaning back in his seat. "No, get your own." She replies back. "You suck." He scoffs. "You suck more." Y/n says, writing down some notes. "Mr. Riddle, Miss Y/n!" McGonagall suddens yells, Mattheo flinchs a bit. "Huh?" Y/n says. "If you two coutine to flirt with one another, I may have to give you two both a detention." She spits. "Sorry, Professor. It won't happen again." Y/n chuckles awkwardly. Mattheo doesn't apologize. He just nods. "Very well then." She answers. "You idiot, you almost got me detention, I've never had detention before!" She whispers in a voice only he can hear. "You never had detention before? Loser." He whispers back. Y/n doesn't reply. Instead, she just scoffs before finishing her notes.

-

I wake up with a giant yawn, I check my alarm clock next to my bed. I thank muggles every day for inventing clocks. It's almost time for classes, I usually skip breakfast since I'm usually never hungry in the mornings, and plus, it gives me an extra hour of sleep. My roommate and best friend, Pansy Parkinson is the same. I look to my left and see Pansy sleeping, her butt stuck up in the air, her arm hanging off the bed, her hair extremely messy. She always has the worst cases of bed head. "Pansy!" I say, trying to wake her up, knowing she would kill me if I didn't wake up her. "Whatttt." She replies back, her voice cranky. "Get up, we have classes soon!" I say, getting out of bed myself. "Oh shit-" She says, practically falling out of bed. I giggle. "Shut up idiot." She jokes. I head to my bathroom, washing my face with cold water as it helps to wake me up in the mornings. I do my usual routine, brushing my hair, which takes me around 5 minutes to do. I can't be bothered to do a ponytail or a bun or anything, so I leave it down. I usually don't . I wear my hair down like twice a month or so. I curl my lashes, putting some mascara on them. Then I do my other makeup steps. I head to my closet and grab my uniform.

After around 15 minutes, I'm ready. "Pansy, are you ready to go?" I ask. "Not yet, but just go on without me, I have Potions first, so I should be fine." She says. Since the Slytherin common room and dormitorys are in the duegon, it doesn't take that long to walk to Potions class. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case for me, I had a history of magic first, which was upstairs. I had always hated history of magic, I mean, i enjoyed the subject, but definitely not the teacher. Professor Binns had this very slow paced voice. And he wasn't very good at explaining the subject. He would never interact with his students. He never asked them questions or their opinions. It also didn't help when he randomly assigned random essays due at the end of the week. History of magic was also one of my worst grades.

I grab my history of magic textbooks on the subject we're currently learning about. I walk out of our dormitory, waving Pansy goodbye, knowing we'll see each other at lunch.

Another reason why I hate history of magic is because I have to sit with Mattheo Riddle.

-

I walk in history of magic to see Y/n sitting down at our seat at the back of the class. I've always liked sitting at the back of class since the teachers can't really hear conversations from the front, especially Binns. His hearing isn't the best since he is a ghost.

I pretend I don't see Y/n as I begin to walk towards our seat, I look down at my shoes before looking at Y/n and sitting down. Her hair is down today. I always liked her with her hair down. Her hair is so long her hair reaches down to her chair. "L/n" I greet. "Riddle." She replies back, looking at me, before looking away, fidgeting with her quill. I can tell my presence makes her nervous. I sit down, making sure my knee makes content with hers. She quickly pulls her knee away. Then Binns floats in, sitting down in his dusty seat.

"Ahem." He says quietly.

-

I watch as Mattheo walks in the room. He looks around before walking to our seat. I let out a shakey breath as he sits down, his knee touching me. I pull mine away as I fidget with my quill. Then Professor Binns comes into the room, floating towards his desk. I snap out of my trance, pulling out my parchment paper. Mattheo begins to bop his leg up and down. I can't focus. I can barely focus in the first place when he's next to me. He's so close to me I can practically feel his hot breath on me. I pretend I'm not bothered by this and coutine writing my notes. But I can't help but get this feeling that he's staring at me. I slowly look to my side to see him staring deep into my soul. My head is slightly pounding. I can't tell if it's because I have a headache or this forced proximity.

"Have a staring problem, Riddle?" I scoff, looking up at him. "Something like that." He mutters. I look away, trying my best to focus, but I have this constant ringing throughout my head. I can still feel him staring at me, I wonder if I have anything on my face? I nonchalantly placed my hand on my face to try to rub anything off of it, but nothing. I wonder why he's staring? Maybe he thinks I'm pretty, i mean, i doubt it.. but I wouldn't be upset. In fact, i would be glad.

I do think you're pretty, gorgeous, in fact.

A voice pops into my head. What the hell was that? I most definitely did not think that at all -

"Mattheo, did you say something?" I ask, looking at him. "No?" He says innocently. His puppy dog eyes looking at me. "Oh, never mind then.." I say with a hint of embrassment. Did I bang my head or something? Why am I hearing voices. Maybe I'm insane - I wouldn't be surprised if I was insane. I bet Mattheo thinks I'm also insane.

You are insane.

This time, I jerk my head to Mattheo. He's peacefully listening to the listen, an amused look on his face. "Mattheo Riddle!" I whisper. "What?" He says. "I heard that - I'm not insane!" I reply back, pointing a finger at him.

"Y/n, are you feeling alright? Do you need to be taken down to the hospital wing, I can take you there if you want." He asks, a smile on his smug face.

"I'm not crazy- I heard you in my head!" I say. "That sounds pretty insane to me." He shrugs. "You're not helping!" I exclaim, slamming my hands on the desk. Gosh! Why did Mattheo have to be like this, so annoying, so infuriating, so cute - wait no. Not cute, definitely not cute!

You think i'm cute

The same voice hums in my head. I groan in frustration. Then an idea pops into my head, I doubt it'll work but it's worth a shot.

Mattheo?

I think to myself.

Yes, Love?

My lips part as I look over at him, he makes eye contact with me, but his expression doesn't change.

How..are you doing that..?

Magic

His voice echos throughout my head.

Haha, very funny

I reply back.

I know i am.

I scoff, fidgeting with my quill.

Sooo, you think im cute..?

No! No i don't.

I protest, even though I'm lying.

Your thoughts a few minutes ago says otherwise.

Shut up Riddle, practically everyone thinks you're cute, but that surely doesn't excuse your high ego.

So, you think I'm cute?

He hums, his voice has a tone of amusement.

Okay, fine! You're cute. Whatever.

Good, because I think you're cute aswell.

My jaw practically drops, Mattheo Riddle thinks I'm cute?

Then images of me and Mattheo passionately making out behind a pillar, his hands roaming all over my body.

Mattheo, what the fuck!

We both know you want this.

He's right, I do want this. I want this more than anything. My breath hitches.

Your right Mattheo, I do want this.

Good. Meet me after class, no excuses.

I don't reply, but instead, I just nod. Suddenly, more images of us together flash my mind, Mattheo slams me against the wall, his hands all over my body, as he kisses me roughly. I feel a warm feeling within my stomach, I check the clock, fifteen minutes left, I don't know if I can wait any longer. My leg bobs up and down. I then feel a hand on my thigh, I look down to see Mattheos' hand placed on my thigh. His hand caresses my thigh. I shift in my seat, butterflies flooding my lower stomach.

-

After 15 minutes, Binns dismisses us, Mattheo instantly gets up, collects his stuff, and practically runs out of the class. I usually take my time. I look down at my notes. The only thing written down is my name and the title and one single sentence. I let out a frustrated groan, this better have been worth it.

I collect my books, I hold them up to my chest as I walk out. I look around to see Mattheo behind a pillar - similar to the one in the images, smoking a cigarette, he holds the cigarette against his lips as he spots me. I awkwardly walk towards him.

"Hi, Mattheo." I greet him.

"Hi, Y/n." He greets back, throwing the cigarette on the ground and stomping on it with his shoe.

I walk closer to him. He looks me up and down, I'm so close to him i can feel his body heat. "Drop the books, L/n." He demands, and so i do. He pulls me in by my school tie and smashes his lips onto mine. His lips still taste like cigarettes. Just like the images, his hands roam all around my body, tracing every detail of it. I cup his cheek as he lets out a soft whimper. My heart melts at this.

"Y/n, skip class with me. Come to my dorm, please." He asks, I nod, grabbing his hand.

You can probably guess what happend at his dormitory.

-

A/n; I love this. Click this link to learn more about me/request info.

Click this for my masterlink.

[bluesunss]

Moonbird T.O.P (Choi Seunghyun) x F!Reader

Big Bang april challenge - April 4th

summary: bumping into an ex at the most unexpected place...

warnings: nothing much really, tiny bit of angst and emotional cheating innuendos (but no actual cheating and NOT between the main characters - read to understand), sensitive reader

a/n: if I say I got carried away it would be an euphemism. this is quite long, literally a full fanfic on its own. a whole subplot has been created for it! I hope it will be enjoyable :) tysm @wcnderlnds and @ldydeath for the fun challenge!

p.s.: the Adrienette slow dance music perfectly fits the vibe

The hum of the passenger-filled airplane was the only sound reaching you. And yet, people continued to board the massive metallic vessel, speaking loudly as they hoisted their luggage into the overhead compartments. You could hear the rustling of jackets as strangers bumped into each other, the children asking how long the journey would take or whether they could eat.

You were already seated, and it was no accident. The moment boarding was announced, you had leaped to be the first in line, the first to present your passport, your documents, your ticket. In fact, the flight was scheduled to depart at four in the afternoon, but you had arrived at the airport at seven in the morning.

But that, too, was no coincidence. You were terrified of planes. Heights. An irrational, all-consuming fear that sometimes forced you to endure three-day train journeys just to avoid a simple flight. Even though your budding career as a seamstress required you to travel, it was well known that you never took planes, and the rare events to which you were invited were usually within Korea, around Seoul.

It wasn’t a bad arrangement, you thought. No, it was your fear that dictated your choices. Not just any fear, not the kind that makes you close your eyes for a moment. No, yours was the kind that made you tremble, cry, curl into yourself.

But this time, you had no choice. One of your closest childhood friends was getting married this weekend in Paris. And unless some magical form of transportation could bridge the gap between Seoul and Paris, you were left with no other option. You had considered declining. Hesitated for hours.

But in the end, you had no choice but to accept. Because your favorite fashion designer, DIANE, lived near the wedding venue and you were told she might attend. Because it was one of your dearest friends. Because you hadn’t seen him in over ten years, and you missed him terribly. Because at thirty-four, your life was just beginning, and it was a chaotic whirlwind of fabric, needles, phone calls, restless women, and fashion magazines. Of screens, austerity, discipline. A thrilling life, yes, but an exhausting one.

Head buried in your hands, you took a deep breath, trying to steady the irrational pounding of your heart. Your chest ached, tightening around your lungs, forcing you to breathe only through your mouth, in uneven, ragged gasps. You rubbed your clammy hands together, then wiped them on your jeans - only to repeat the motion as fresh sweat immediately replaced the last.

The plane was scheduled to take off in about ten minutes. Since your friend Dong-hyun and his fiancée had decided to gift flight tickets to all their guests, you had insisted on flying economy class despite their attempts to offer you a better seat. Dong-hyun eventually gave in, albeit reluctantly. His fiancée scolded him; she genuinely wanted you to be comfortable. You pulled the light shawl over your shoulders and breathed in its scent.

Lost in thought, you decided to calm yourself by opening a book from your carry-on. Time passed at that steady rhythm until you felt a shift, a faint tremor. Your fingers clenched around the book. The words dissolved into broken syllables.

“…his hand… rai… catch… and… c…”

The rolling motion began. Like a car, you murmured. Like. A. Car. Breathe. Stay calm. It’s going to be okay. A. Car. A train. It’s going to be okay.

At first, it was fine. The first ten minutes. The wheels retracting. The screech against the tarmac. And then it began. Your nails dug into the armrests. You squeezed your eyes shut, tried to control your breathing, counted the clouds, but nothing worked.

Beside you, a child sat with headphones on, absorbed in a book, while his mother dozed off, cradling a newborn. You couldn’t ask them for help. Across the aisle, a man was fast asleep.

The shaking started.

The plane sped up. Faster. Faster still. Faster, faster, faster - it was about to lift off, about to take flight. The seatbelt sign wasn’t even on yet, but you were braced, your heart pounding wildly.

And then, turbulence.

Your hand shot out and latched onto someone’s arm as they passed by, gripping their forearm with all your strength. Trembling, lips pressed into a thin line, you refused to let go. And then-

A voice instructed passengers to fasten their seatbelts.

You looked up.

The person looked down.

And you both froze.

He was wearing a mask. A cap.

But those eyes. Those strands of hair falling over his gaze.

Him.

Choi Seunghyun.

“Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

Right there. In front of you. Your first love. The first person in your life. The one with whom you had built a future. Who had pushed you to enroll in fashion school. Whom you had encouraged to try rapping. Whose first lyrics you helped write. Who you graduated high school with.

Of course.

The one celebrating his birthday - Dong-hyun - had been your best friend back then. The nights spent playing board games after school. The words, the music. The way they used to tease you two, knowing you were in love but that neither of you dared to make the first move.

The time they abandoned you at the fair, forcing you two together.

The moment his lips met yours on the Ferris wheel.

The day he confessed, cheeks flushed, in the heart of your seventeen-year-old selves.

Oh.

If there was one thing Seunghyun knew, it was how terrified you were of heights. In the Ferris wheel, before he kissed you, you had cried and clung to his shirt. In the end, it had been purely instinctive. You had found him looking at you, soothing you, and it had simply happened. Your heart had pounded for an entirely different reason, and the world had fallen silent.

And the wheel had reached the bottom. Calmly. Without turbulence.

Seunghyun’s arm did not move. Another thing about him was his ability to make decisions quickly.

“Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. I repeat, please-”

“Unfasten your seatbelt,” he ordered. You were too stunned to react. With a swift movement, you clicked open your belt. A flight attendant was striding toward you, but Seunghyun remained unfazed. He waited - waited for the command to reach your brain, for your fingers to press the metallic clasp, for his hand to calmly take yours and enclose it within his.

Gently guiding you, he led you all the way to the empty seats. The flight attendant approached, but then, suddenly, Seunghyun lowered his mask, and she blushed before turning away.

He took one of the vacant seats and sat down, then helped you sit before fastening your seatbelt. Without a word, he placed a hand on the side of your head, tilted it onto his shoulder, close to his heart, and let his fingers hover against your cheek for a moment before lowering his hand to your shoulder, keeping you pressed against him.

Not a single word. Only the rhythm of his heartbeat, the reassuring scent of clean linen and his cologne - unchanged - the warmth of his fingers on your shoulder, and the silence that said everything.

You no longer felt anything. You were at peace. The plane accelerated. The wheels screeched against the ground, and then your heart lurched as it took off, as the world tilted slightly and the landscape blurred past.

But Seunghyun held you close. He pressed your shoulder in that rhythmic way he had with his fingers, one after the other, like playing a piano, creating a cadence that regulated your breathing. He always did that when you panicked - whether over an overwhelming workload or when you came home crying after a failed deal. Seunghyun was calm and understanding.

Perhaps that was why you drifted apart. After high school, he spent two years at SNU studying history, but he never managed to love the university or academic life. Eventually, he dropped out, and gradually, you both ended up investing in a talent he had kept buried deep within him but had always cherished - singing, rapping, the world of stardom. Little by little, a career took shape.

You had been there, watching from the sidelines, as he traded textbooks for lyrics and study halls for underground stages. He started rapping again, reconnecting with an old friend, Kwon Ji-yong, and from there, everything snowballed. YG Entertainment. Big Bang. Stadiums and screaming fans. His name became something else - T.O.P - and the world claimed him.

You had hardly ever met the other members. You were too busy. You, whom he had encouraged to enroll in a fashion school, faced rejection after rejection.

He had always been there for you. All this time. His rhythmic tapping, his presence - him, simply. Always putting you before his career. Always. One call at any hour? He would be at your doorstep, canceling a concert for tens of thousands of people.

But you were the one who distanced yourself first. You were too much for him. Too much of everything, too much of his world, too much of his refuge, too much of his problem.

And then, you were finally accepted by an underrated Korean designer. She saw herself as a pioneer, advocating for pattern mixing - pairing a plaid shirt with a polka-dot skirt.

You were not an innovator, more conventional, but she guided you beyond the conformity of everyday life. Seunghyun always saw you as a little bird - his nickname for you was Dalsae. Moon bird.

But you had taken flight. Your first fashion show was a shock. She provoked, she attacked. Seunghyun warned you, saying you were going against your nature, but you thought he wanted to keep you from flying. You lashed out at him. You provoked him constantly, throwing barbed words, yet he remained as calm as ever.

But each time, he withdrew a little more.

A crack formed. And when the designer helped you spread your wings, she clipped them. She stole your sketches and created a new collection that shook the fashion world. A deafening silence.

However, Seunghyun was no longer there. He had pulled away - afraid for you, but also of you. You were always so quick to anger.

The cracks deepened. Mistakes were made on both sides: he withdrew when you truly needed him, and you let him go when he needed a sign to stay.

And so, your worlds crumbled. Even when you came back, proposed new designs, received countless calls, even when Nova was suddenly dragged to court for intellectual theft, and your sketches were finally unveiled to the world.

Even when your world rebuilt itself. He was no longer there.

Physically, yes, you still lived together. But the mistakes of your youth had turned you into wandering souls. Strangers.

The separation was silent. Slowly, things disappeared - first a toothbrush, then a jacket, then his underwear. Then the shelves emptied, the closets, the separate nights.

And then, one morning, he told you he would be staying over at a friend’s place for the night. And you knew he would not return.

He left you the furniture, the car, the apartment. But he took your heart. You didn’t cry in the first few weeks. You were too busy, still unaware.

Then, one Friday night, you came home, laughing, happy because you had been invited to your first event, and you wanted him to come. You had called his name, placed a cake you had bought on the dining table, and suddenly realized.

He was gone. The apartment was empty.

And only then did you cry, mourning the loss of the person dearest to you.

Seven years later, he was here. Holding you as he used to, just as calm. You stayed in his arms for long minutes. You even dozed off against his chest as his fingers stroked your hair.

Hours later, you woke with just an hour and a half left in the flight, realizing that throughout the twelve-hour journey, not once had you trembled. And against you, he breathed, deeply asleep, his hand still holding you - just as he had seventeen years earlier, in that Ferris wheel.

With a small movement, you lifted his arm, gently placed it back against his body, then slipped away to retrieve your bag and belongings. As you returned, you wondered why you were coming back to your ex’s side, but you chose not to think about it too much and let yourself sink into the seat beside him.

You pulled out your book, and even when the plane landed, the mere presence of the man with his steady breathing and familiar scent was enough to calm you.

You arrived at Paris Charles de Gaulle airport around four in the morning. Your body was stiff as you unloaded your luggage and belongings, and by the time you were through, it was nearly five, with the sun rising. Seunghyun and you had exchanged no words, but he remained close, his hand hovering over the small of your back, guiding you everywhere. He retrieved your suitcase, your handbag - a birthday gift from him as a couple - and you swore you saw his eyes soften behind his mask. You spoke little, in brief syllables - “All good?” “And you?” “Yes.” “No.” “Careful.” “Go first.”

The French air smelled sharper, a little less artificial than Korea’s. The airport was vast, filled with unfamiliar voices and sounds you didn’t understand.

“L'embarquement pour l'avion vers Riyad partira avec un retard de quinze minutes. Les portes de l'embarquement pour Genève sont fermées. À cause des travaux-”

Seunghyun was pulling his suitcase and carrying your backpack. After all the security checks (where you were forced to throw away a perfume bottle because you had apparently forgotten how to read numbers), you finally reached the airport exit together. You were the one to break the real silence.

“Are you going to Dong-hyun and Soo-yeon’s wedding?”

He had lowered his mask - in Paris, he was less recognized - and you took the opportunity to observe him under his cap, his dark brown hair always falling messily over his eyes, the way you used to love brushing it back. His deep eyes, which used to light up when you kissed him and he pulled you into his arms. His thin, rosy lips. He hadn’t changed, though a few lines creased his forehead when he raised his eyebrows or around his eyes. But that was only because you knew his face by heart. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed.

You removed your shawl and shook your head, letting your hair fall over your shoulders. You thought his gaze lingered on you, but when you looked up, he was reading the screens.

You walked side by side, silent, save for the rolling of your suitcases on the parquet floor and the shrill voices of parents calling after their children.

“I received the invitation a month ago.”

Seunghyun rarely answered with a simple yes or no. He always took a step around his response, as if he already knew what you were about to say.

"Me too. I'm surprised he's doing it in Paris, even though Soo-yeon is French."

He still wasn’t looking at you. "Dong-hyun dreamed of Montparnasse."

Memories resurfaced. Dong-hyun didn’t care about the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre. He was obsessed with that tower - who knows why.

"His architectural project model was a replica of the tower, remember?"

Seunghyun’s lips curled slightly, and you thought you heard a quiet laugh escape him. "He was such an idiot, too. Who builds a famous tower? Did he think that just because it was in Korea, he could pretend he had invented it?"

You laughed too, your eyes glimmering. "He said great minds think alike. I haven’t seen him in a while."

"Ten years. Just before…"

Before you parted ways. A heavy silence fell again. You gripped your suitcase, your knuckles turning white.

"We’re here."

You lifted your head. It was the exit. Seunghyun lingered for a moment, his gaze resting on your face, which seemed so distant to him that his heart clenched.

"Do you have a taxi?"

You nodded. Soo-yeon and you had video-called because her fiancé had told her you two would get along perfectly, and she had adored you - both you and your designs. Her mother was French, and Soo-yeon had assured you that your fashion would revolutionize Paris. She had even sent a friend to pick you up directly.

And there he was. You recognized him from the picture - dark brown hair, green eyes, leather jacket.

He recognized you too. He walked up to you, pulled you into a hug, and kissed both your cheeks loudly. Then, he grabbed your suitcase, speaking in a choppy mix of French and English.

"Yoo, Soo-yeon told me so much sur toi. Askip you’re a designer. TROP excited to see that."

He walked with a swagger and smelled of cigarettes and leaves. You glanced up at Seunghyun as the man, in a hurry, dragged your luggage while monologuing.

Your cheeks were red, your eyes still damp. You grabbed your backpack from Seunghyun’s hand and gave him a quick wave.

"See you later."

He didn’t answer. His eyes flicked from you to the man, then to the signs and the ticking time. He hadn’t lost his composure, but you could have sworn you saw him falter.

☽

The hotel was a grand Haussmannian building in the sixth arrondissement. In the lobby, men carried your suitcases upstairs, the so-called friend, Benoît, kissed your cheeks again before leaving, and you found yourself lost in a foreign whirlwind.

Your belongings were brought up, you followed the elevator to the seventh floor, walked down the hallway, and a mustached man in red opened the door for you, handing you a key card.

Only then did you let yourself collapse onto the velvet bed. The wedding was in two days, and you felt yourself sink into sleep.

☽

Night fell, and you woke abruptly to a deep, thunderous rumble. Jolting out of bed, you searched for the source before realizing the window was ajar. You still hadn’t changed. Moving toward the small balcony, you stepped outside. In the distance, a construction site pressed forward, a massive yellow crane screeching as it moved. How did the workers dare to climb it? To you, it was the ultimate display of courage.

The night was deep, the sky a dark blue, starless. Far away, the Eiffel Tower pierced a lone cloud. It had not yet begun to sparkle. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of flowers placed along the railing and something warm. And just then, you felt a new world unfolding before you. It would be okay. Everything would be okay.

You smiled at the sky, stretching your hand outward as if to touch the Eiffel Tower from afar.

"Careful!"

The voice came from your left. You turned your head sharply, gripping the railing for balance - and then you saw him.

Seunghyun had the room next to yours. The moment he saw you, his fist clenched, and without another word, he stepped back into his room.

Your heart pounded violently. You turned back inside, shut the terrace doors, and stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the light. Quickly, you washed your body with the hotel’s Marseille soap, dried your hair in the modern bathroom, then changed to go for a walk.

Dressing wasn’t a simple task for you; designing clothes meant you played by your own rules. Your main principle lay in color - its chaotic harmony. That was why you were Korea’s ever-changing bird. And Seunghyun’s moonbird. His Dalsae.

But tonight, you wanted to exist quietly. Without colors.

So you slipped into one of your work sweaters and a pair of trousers - elegant and pressed, but loose enough to let you dissolve into your thoughts. You laced up your sneakers, unlocked the door, and left your belongings neatly stacked in the corner of the room.

The hallway was lined with red carpet, the walls gilded leather molded into a series of convex shapes. It was an attempt at blending Renaissance France with Versailles and Louis Le Vau’s influence while preserving the Haussmannian essence that came later in the early nineteenth century.

The mix was somewhat grotesque - clumsy in the way only forced luxury can be. Instinctively, your fingers reached for your ear, searching for a pencil as if to sketch out a better design, when a shadow moved behind you.

Seunghyun approached, carrying his scent like an unmistakable aura. He tilted his head.

"The hotel’s style is strange."

It wasn’t a question. He had figured it out. He always did. You threw your head back, grinning at him upside down.

"Yep. I want to redesign the whole building."

He smiled softly, and the two of you continued walking through the hall.

What was he doing here?

"Paris is dangerous at night," he replied, as if he had read your thoughts. "These are the nice neighborhoods, but every corner has a story. Don’t go out alone."

You nodded thoughtfully. His gaze swept over your ‘normal’ outfit, your barely-there makeup, the damp curls that had slipped from your low ponytail.

You walked in silence for a moment, reached the elevator, and waited patiently. You swung your foot slightly forward, feigning indifference.

The elevator arrived. You stepped inside, and then-

The silence of the corridor suddenly expanded into something immense. Overwhelming.

The seven floors that had taken only minutes before now stretched into endless hours.

You didn’t dare lift your head to meet his gaze. He said nothing, but you knew his head was lowered too. And that he had pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt - your favorite - over his hair.

"So… how are you?"

His voice sent a shiver down your spine. Between these four walls, it felt so distant yet so close, vibrating through you.

"I’m fine. But…"

Finally daring to look at him, you tried to catch his eyes as they darted away.

"And you? Are you… okay?"

His fingers tugged at the drawstrings of his hoodie. He wasn’t looking at you.

"Hyun?"

At the sound of his name, he reacted. His face lifted, revealing something shaken, fractured - all the emotions bottled up in those endless silences, in that dull absence.

"I…"

Ting!

The door opened. He composed himself, adjusted his posture, and let you step out before following suit. The hotel lobby had filled slightly with couples and murmuring voices, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. Every golden table was occupied. People spoke loudly, many in English. A blend of musk and old upholstery floated around you, and you mentally added it to the list of comforting scents.

Seunghyun stepped ahead as the grand doors swung open, and the two of you stepped into the fresh, dark night. A shiver ran through you, and you followed him. You walked in silence for a while, taking in the crisp scent of pine and sharp autumn leaves, until the quiet grew heavier.

So much to say, and no way to say it.

“How are GDragon and the others?”

Truthfully, GD was the only name you had remembered - because you loved dragons and the intricate scale patterns you often incorporated into your designs, and because you'd met Jiyong a few times.

Seunghyun exhaled softly. “They’re fine.”

You reached a winding street. Hundreds of cars crisscrossed in every direction, and well-dressed pedestrians crowded the sidewalks. For the first time in your life, you felt underdressed. The Eiffel Tower loomed closer.

“Not really,” he finally admitted, exhaling. “There have been… problems. A few scandals. It’s been rough.”

A gust of cold air made you shudder. He noticed but said nothing at first. “We’ve had problems. I don’t know if things will ever get better.”

Big Bang? Problems? You had been so consumed by your own world that you had ignored his. To this day, the wound of your breakup was still raw. Because neither of you had ever really spoken the words. And perhaps because of that, you still felt as if you were together. As if every man you had dated since was, in some unspoken way, a betrayal. You were still bound to Seunghyun.

The silence was unbearable.

The nights spent laughing like lunatics on the couch over some ridiculous comedy. The hours wasted on absurd video games he’d bought from obscure stores, games that made no sense. The virus he downloaded that turned your screen blue for months. The ridiculous nicknames. That time you both dyed your hair red and botched it so badly that your scorched ends turned into wild, lion-like manes for weeks. The rule 'No laughing at the other' that none of you respected, holding your stomaches with laughter. The kisses.

You missed him. More than that - you were dying without him.

“Seunghyun?”

He tilted his head slightly, listening. He had always been calm, but never this silent.

“Why did we break up?”

The question lingered in the air. It cut through the tension, shattering it into a thousand sharper pieces. Your breath caught in your throat. Too late to take it back now.

Glancing at him, you noticed the slight tremor in his lower lip.

“We never really broke up,” he said.

It was true. Exactly what you had feared all along.

“But you were afraid,” he added. “Terrified.”

Afraid? You barely had time to ask before he continued.

“When that woman - the designer, the one they called Super-”

“Nova.”

“Yes. Supernova. When she took you in, she made you scared of everything. You lost yourself after that. Your ambition, your sketches, your dreams.”

The sky was cloudless. Seunghyun’s steps beside you were light, steady, grounding.

“And me. You were so afraid of ruining everything that you did everything to push me away. You fear your own emotions.”

You only realized you were crying when the cold air brushed against your damp cheeks. Two quiet tears slipped down your face and disappeared into the pavement.

“Did you ever want to end it all?” you asked. The question that had burned on your tongue for years. Had he ever wanted to leave?

He did not answer immediately.

A street vendor tried to slip miniature Eiffel Towers into your pockets, but Seunghyun stopped him with a single, polite nod, freezing the man in place. The warm scent of crepes drifted through the air. Seunghyun followed your gaze and stopped at the stand. You protested, but he bought two - one with sugar, one with chocolate - and handed you the last one without expecting anything in return.

That was who he was. A giver. Even his happiness, at the cost of his own.

“Never,” he finally answered.

He shook his head as you bit into the buttery warmth, the sweet-salty contrast overwhelming your senses. Another warmth spread within you.

“You know Nova was sued?” you said.

He smirked. “Serves her right. She was unbearable.”

“Hey, not entirely. After meeting her, I’d come home with rolls of fabric and sew you the most stylish ties.”

He chuckled, the sound so familiar it sent a shiver of happiness through you.

“Stylish? I had to attend auditions wearing shirts with tiny penguins and monkeys on the cuffs.”

You nearly choked on your bite of crepe.

“You okay?” he asked.

Yeah. You were okay.

“You wore them! Every single one!”

You burst out laughing, picturing him rapping in his ridiculous shirts. And despite himself, despite everything, laughter finally took hold of him too.

“Yes. Every single one.”

Wiping his eyes, he turned to you.

“Because you made them.”

Your laughter faded into quiet warmth. You looked up at him, eyes bright, lips curved in a soft smile. You held his gaze for long, lingering seconds.

How you had missed him. All this time. All these years.

He studied you in return. Your eyes remained locked until he finally looked away and took another bite of his crepe. You resumed walking.

“Seunghyun?”

“Hm?” You swallowed.

“How did they find out Nova stole my sketches?”

The man beside you swallowed hard. You had often wondered who had leaked the signed designs you had hidden away, the ones that vanished right after his departure.

“The truth always comes out,” he said. But he avoided your gaze.

He had been your guardian angel all these years.

Your heart pounded again. The Eiffel Tower was just ahead now, glowing golden, its lights forming a mosaic against the night sky. Crowds of people laughed, danced, filmed, kissed. You climbed the steps, drawing closer to the iron lattice, watching it shimmer, your eyes full of stars.

Laughing, you turned to Seunghyun. “Take a picture of me.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You held out your phone, but he pulled out his own.

“The camera’s better,” he said.

He hadn’t changed his phone in years. The image froze in time - your eternal smile, your rosy cheeks.

You bounced back to him, beaming. “Amazing! Your turn!”

He shook his head, resisting. But you tugged at his sleeve, and before he could protest, you handed his phone to a woman with a stroller while her husband scolded two rowdy children. She smiled warmly and gestured for you to pose.

Seunghyun left a few inches of space between your shoulders.

“Closer!” the woman instructed in English. “Yeah! Perfect!”

You had moved closer. "Cheeese." She took the picture.

"Your arm! Come on, your girl is so beautiful!" She smiled at you.

Seunghyun swallowed hard. The woman made a sweeping gesture with her arm, prompting him to wrap his own around your neck.

"Bring her closer! Don’t you love the girl?"

So you nestled into his embrace. You let your hands linger on his chest, your head resting against his heart, and he tightened his grip on your shoulder, relaxing just slightly.

"Perfect!" the woman cried. "Excellent. A kiss, maybe?"

Seeing the horror on your faces, she laughed and handed you the phone back.

"So cute! Me and my husband?"

You took her picture, and she left, waving warmly.

"Can I see the photos?" you asked.

Seunghyun handed you his phone, and you scrolled through them. Then, instinctively, you tapped the small arrow in the rectangle to send them to yourself.

Dalsae.

Your breath caught. You were still here.

You hadn’t changed.

With trembling fingers, you hit send. Then you handed him back the phone, your lips quivering. His fingers brushed against yours. His eyes never left you. He picked up his phone. You extended your hand.

The Eiffel Tower sparkled. Darkness had suddenly fallen. Deep, luminous, fireworks bursting in the sky.

There. It was only him, and only you. Your eyes fell to his lips. His gaze traced your face, your mouth. Your body gravitated toward his. Your hands landed on his chest, his on your hips.

You were mere centimeters apart. It was cold. You were burning.

You lifted onto your toes. He tilted his head. His hair skimmed your cheeks, your forehead. Your nose brushed against his. Your lips-

"Ow!"

A girl behind you stumbled. You jumped, and Seunghyun abruptly pulled away.

"Sorry! I'm sorry, I-"

You reached for him again, but he withdrew feverishly.

"No, we can’t!" he insisted.

"But why?!" you snapped, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of your eyes. "Do you not love me? Do you not love me anymore?"

He shook his head, as if he couldn’t understand what you were saying, as if it were nonsense.

"Stop, please. We need to go back. You need to rest for the wedding."

"Seunghyun! You say I run from my feelings, but you’re the one running from yours! What is it?!"

His eyes were locked on you, but he wasn’t really seeing you. He had shut down. He was pulling away. You were sinking, nearly screaming.

"I can’t!"

"BUT WHY?!"

His mouth opened. You saw it coming. You felt it.

"I have someone! There!"

Your heart plummeted in your chest. In an instant, it collapsed. The world turned black, then blue, then gray, then orange. Then black again. So very black.

"Fine," you whispered.

"Listen, I-"

"No, it’s fine. Good luck."

You stepped back, watching him, and nearly missed the step behind you. It should have made you laugh, but instead, you broke, and you exploded into a thousand tears, fleeing into the streets toward the hotel.

Seunghyun reached out, but it was useless. Just like you and the Eiffel Tower from the balcony.

If he stepped too far, he would fall.

☽

The next morning arrived like a flash of lightning. You had no idea how your clothes ended up on your body, how you slipped into your quiet morning attire and made your way to the first hall, long before the festivities, starting tomorrow evening.

You were suprised to find the bride to be. Soo-yeon sat downstairs in the hall, at one of the gilded cafeteria tables, sipping tea in a delicate pink dress and chatting with five teenage girls. The moment she saw you, she turned, dropped her cup, and ran toward you.

"OH, darling! I’ve so dreamed of meeting you!"

She pulled away after pressing two loud kisses to your cheeks, leaving two bright pink lip marks on your face. Her strong perfume - lavender, mandarin, and bergamot - made your eyes sting. Her long hair was dyed pink all the way to the roots, concealing its true color, and despite her distinctly Korean features, her brown eyes seemed to shimmer a little blue.

"You’re gorgeous!"

She took your arm, humming, and sat you down on the sofa near the table, calling the waiter.

"Garçon!"

A man arrived, took your order - hot chocolate - and left. She spoke a lot, a mix of korean, english and french, quickly, but never stuttered or hesitated. Her posture was impeccable.

"Listen, I have a brilliant idea. How long does it take you to create a dress?" she asked.

You shook your head, a little overwhelmed. Then, thoughtful, you counted on your fingers. Sketch. Choose fabrics. Shopping. Cutting. Tracing. Dampening the fabric to give it texture, if the design required it. Crinkling. Ironing. Sewing. Assembling. Fitting. Adjusting. Re-sewing.

"Ah, a lot. Almost fifteen hours if I take a full day without eating, without breaks, and if the client patiently waits while I test everything on them."

Soo-yeon smiled, her glittery pink eyeshadow shimmering. She was too impatient.

"Well! Listen," she motioned for you to come closer, leaning slightly in, resting a manicured hand on your forearm. "If I give you an ideal world. A workshop. And even small employees. Could you make that work?"

You stared, confused, waiting for her to keep going as she examined your face with a small smile. When you did not respond, she continued.

"Make my dress for tomorrow."

You stared at her, dumbfounded. But she did not give you time to think.

"If you make it, just know that one of the best fashion designers in Paris will drop by my party. DIANE."

It was as if the breath had been knocked from your lungs. DIANE was your idol. You admired her as much as you feared her and her judgment.

"Of course, I have a dress, just in case. But this idea came to me just this morning at four AM, while I couldn’t sleep and was painting my nails. I want something new, I want to be the most original bride in Paris."

Your heart pounded. The other girls watched you with smiles. They were young. She gestured toward them.

"These are friends’ daughters who were looking for a job opportunity. They’ll be at your service - I’ll pay them, and I’ll pay for the dress. You get to impress DIANE. And I have a dress no one possesses in Paris by the future fashion sensation."

In around forty hours. It was nearly seven AM. The opportunity was incredible. Then an idea struck you. With five assistants, you could also create bridesmaids’ dresses.

You often got a bit too ahead of yourself, and that you would only realise in a few hours.

"How many bridesmaids do you have?" you finally asked.

If she was surprised, she didn’t show it.

"Well, I have many friends, but only three very close ones. Léa, Camille, and Mi-rae. And I’ve chosen you as well, of course."

Four dresses.

"The wedding is Saturday at eight PM?" you asked, jumping from your seat, nearly knocking over the hot chocolate that had just arrived.

She grinned brightly.

"Sharp, darling."

☽

Forty hours. Forty hours. Forty hours.

Soo-yeon lent you a friend’s workshop. It had everything you needed, from sewing machines to spools of thread. She had given you a magazine featuring different fabrics and had circled her favorites.

The five girls spoke English; only one of them understood and spoke Korean. She translated quickly for her friends and became your right hand.

“Okay, Ju-bin, tell them to fetch me the white tin fabric and the crystal flowers here.”

"Faut chercher les fleurs de cristal et le tissu blanc les filles!"

You pointed to the magazine. The girls, thrilled, dashed off. They returned swiftly. You stacked the fabrics, let them dry during the process, rushed all over the workshop, pricked your fingers seven times. Then, you started working on the bridesmaids’ dresses in raspberry red fabric, asking for off-white diamonds. One of the girls went to buy cream-colored heels, another returned with tights, Soo-yeon had left her number, and everything was going well.

Then, suddenly, in your exhaustion, you lifted the bride's dress and saw that you had made a mistake. One single stitch was sticking out too much. From afar, it was invisible, but with the bride in front of everyone, it would be immediately noticeable, and for DIANE, it was ruined.

The dress slipped from your hands, and you exploded. It was two o'clock. The day was almost over, and tomorrow you needed to get the bridesmaid's dresses done. You could never continue.

The girls, who had returned, surrounded you and tried to help, but you cried bitterly in your helplessness. It reminded you of the night with Nova when she said "See you tomorrow," and the next day, your sketches were her new collection. And that... Seunghyun had been there to comfort you. All night. Even though you were strangers. You knew the relationship was hanging by a thread, and you were tipping over to the wrong side.

“Are you okay?!" The workshop door opened with a gust of wind that carried the familiar musk scent, and there he was, standing in his large felt jacket, his chest rising with short, labored breaths. "I got a call from Dong-hyun and an insane idea from his wife - his fiancée - Dalsae?”

Seunghyun stared at your helpless and crumbled figure.

“What’s going on?”

The girls stepped aside. Ju-bin widened her eyes in surprise.

“T.O.P.?”

He flashed her a small smile, always polite.

“Ah, yes,” he replied. “Can we talk after?”

She nodded, stunned. In French, she said something to her friends, and you heard “Star” and “Korea,” and they left the room to get some fresh air. Ju-bin told you they were just going to have a juice across the street and would return as soon as you messaged them.

It was just you and Seunghyun now. Again. He crouched between the fabrics, took your face in his hands, and with eyes filled with concern, he whispered, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Are you okay? Dong-hyun told me that Soo-yeon is a bit impulsive and that he was worried about the task she gave you, but she refused to disclose it. He managed to convince her by saying it was because... because I’m your boyfriend and that you needed me.”

You stopped crying, sniffled.

“Is that true? You came for me?”

He released your face and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m always here for you.”

Then he pulled away again, grabbing your shoulders.

“So? What’s going on?”

You briefly explained Soo-yeon’s crazy plan and how you also wanted to make dresses for the four bridesmaids.

“Ahh,” he exhaled. “You’re always so energetic. Is there a reason you jumped in so quickly?”

So so understanding. Never blaming you. Always trying to understand you. Through your blurred eyes, you mumbled something.

“Hm? I didn’t hear.”

“Because I never succeed at anything. My sketches were stolen, I fail at everything. And you... you’re always succeeding at everything. I’m ashamed.”

His eyes lit up, and he squeezed your palm without responding.

He was smiling. He had forgotten the night before, and even if what he was doing didn’t seem the most acceptable with a girlfriend, you didn’t care right now. You needed him, you needed your friend first.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

He pulled you to your feet.

“We’re going to make these dresses. You’re going to crush it, okay, Dalsae?”

You nodded timidly. He went to fetch the girls from the café, and you started again. It was approaching two-thirty, and you worked harder, sewing, the girls sewing, not a sound except Seunghyun’s intermittent whistling. Ju-bin stuck close to his heels while maintaining a respectful distance, but she was so excited she worked twice as fast. They cut, followed all your orders, and Seunghyun had a blast with the fabrics and their assembly.

You were happy. Excited, you loved sewing, and felt like an actual seamstress with her workers.

You didn't know how it happened. At one point, you were sewing, and the other, you were sprawled out on the floor laying between the crumpled clothes, snoring, Seunghyun's arm around your shoulder. The girls dozed off on their work tables, seeing you resting, and you only woke up when from the workshop's transparent window rays of sunshine filtered and you heard birds singing. You rose, shook Seunghyun who mumbled in his sleep as he rubbed his eyes.

"Come back," he whined, trying to grab your waist and drag you down.

You resisted, face burning. The girls were sleeping and you did not need them just yet, you let them dream a bit longer. It was approximately five AM.

Naturally, you went back to sewing. You chose simple designs, even though the end result seemed intricate, it was patterns you were used to doing, and it only needed some stitches to put everything together. Your fingers moved quickly, you added the tiny pearls, the bridesmaid's dresses were easy, as the fabric had already a design on itself.

The girls woke up, everyone went back to work quickly, and Seunghyun tried to help as much as he could. At one point, he gave instructions to the girls and grabbed you as you were complaining, dragging you out of the shop. He bought you a juice and a pastry and forced you to eat.

"Thank you," you finally said.

He only smiled. Your heart fluttered. This. Just this smile. You could do with it for the rest of your life.

You went back to the workshop, drew some adjustments, sewed for a few more hours. You were not aware it was humanly possible to sew five full dresses in forty hours, no matter how easy the design was. But within all this exhaustion, you recognised passion. You were happy and felt satisfied.

Thank you Seunghyun for forcing you to enroll in fashion school.

You added some pearls, cut some pieces, sewed the zipper.

Around six-forty, you shouted.

“STOP. DROP EVERYTHING.”

Eyes wide, they dropped everything onto the disordered work tables.

“STOP. We need to try on the dress. We need Soo-yeon. We can’t continue without the exact measurements.”

Seunghyun scratched the back of his head, ran to get your phone, and Ju-bin handed him the paper with Soo-yeon’s number. He dialed.

The phone rang four times. Five. Six.

“The number you’ve dialed is not reachable. Please leave a message after the beep.”

“Shit! Call back.”

You waited nervously, fingers tapping on your worktable, legs crossed on your rolling chair as you rocked back and forth. Seunghyun complied immediately and dialed again. Same result.

“Dong-hyun?”

You bit your nail, but Seunghyun had moved closer to you and held your hand in his free palm, shaking his head, the phone pressed to his ear. It rang.

“Yes?”

A small voice. Frowning, he nodded. The call lasted mere seconds.

“Ah. Shit. Okay, thanks. Yeah, see you.”

He hung up. He looked at you, biting his lower lip, glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

“Soo-yeon is missing. He doesn’t know where she is and suspects she won’t return until the wedding. She’s unreachable.”

Oh no, no, no!

The ultimate failure for a designer is to create a perfect outfit that doesn’t fit the body. Because a garment is just fabric if it isn’t worn. DIANE would notice the slightest slip! The bridesmaids’ dresses had a belt that made them one-size-fits-all, the fabric would wear differently on each one but would fit perfectly on all. But the bride!

“We’re screwed!”

You put your head in your hands, on the verge of breaking down. Seunghyun crouched down, one hand on your shoulder, tapping to calm you.

“We can still...”

“I know.”

One of the girls stepped forward, Valentine, you think, speaking in English.

“Miss Soo-yeon is a bit like you.”

You removed your hands and wiped your tears.

“Like me?”

She nodded. Ju-bin agreed, the other girls stood up too.

“Yes! Almost the same body!”

You lowered your head, looked at your arms, legs, and hips. It was true. She was a few centimeters taller, but your bodies were similar.

“You mean I...”

“Yes! Try on the dress!”

The girls flittered around you. Seunghyun had stood up, arms crossed, but he gave you a half-smile of encouragement. He was the only one that mattered. With his mouth, he silently said "do it."

So, you nodded.

You pulled the girls into the next room, full of mirrors, needles in their mouths. Then you undressed, looked at your reflection in the mirror. Yes, it should work. The girls helped you bend over and thread the needle, it slipped, falling to the floor, caressing your shoulders and curves.

They zipped you up, adjusted the buttons, the bust, and finally, you dared to turn toward the mirror. Without realizing, the elastic in your hair had slipped. The strands cascaded down your shoulders. You called one of the girls.

“Hey Val, pull it over there!”

Valentine pulled, you bit a needle and slipped it to tighten toward your shoulder, did the same at the waist, and finally observed the result. It could work. Should.

“Can I come in?” Seunghyun asked.

“One second!”

You placed the veil on the top of your head, letting it fall over your face, then turned around. The latch clicked. The girls giggled as they slipped into the adjacent room.

Seunghyun froze.

The dress was simple - time constraint - the fabric was the main focus, reminiscent of the skin of a wet swan. Pleated, it flowed into a mermaid tail before breaking into an opening and a pool of white silk. Tiny jewels adorned the bodice, and the dress had no sleeves. Your face was veiled. The bride was supposed to wear gloves too, that you hadn't time to retrieve yet.

He buried his face in his hands.

"Don’t do this to me," he pleaded. His voice trembled, feverish, low. He pressed his back against the door, not daring to look at you again. You moved toward him, avoiding the needles poking your ribs, pushing his hands away as you cradled his face.

"Hyun? What is it?"

He didn’t resist your fingers, his body limp as his arms dropped to your sides. His face burned as he pointed a finger at the veil but didn’t dare touch you.

"If the dress doesn't please DIANE, horses can fly," he murmured.

You chuckled. So close to him, your body pressed against the door, surrendering to his embrace, melting into his arms.

"Oh yeah? And do you like it?" you whispered back, lips mere centimeters from his, separated only by the white fabric.

He nodded silently. Then, delicately, he tilted his head. Your noses brushed, his eyes fixed on your lips, which he caressed with his thumb beneath the forbidden fabric. Tilting his finger to lift it, he whispered,

"That guy from the airport, your French boyfriend, is he okay with us doing this?"

You didn’t fully hear him, leaning in closer, muttering something before realising,

"What guy, what boyfriend? I-"

"HEY! I’m SORRY!"

The door flung open. Soo-yeon was looking for you, the girls emerged from their hiding place, and the workshop filled. Seunghyun watched you, his heart unsteady. Then, he stepped back, his face flushed.

"We’ll meet at the wedding," he declared.

You heard nothing but the frantic beating of your heart.

☽

Soo-yeon was at the hairdresser’s and returned, bouncing with excitement, with the other bridesmaids. You took off the dress, and the young girls helped them get dressed. The bridesmaids twirled in their raspberry pleated dresses, giving the effect of a rose. You made the final adjustments before being dismissed to prepare, receiving two more loud and rosy kisses from Soo-yeon. She was over the moon.

You ran to the hotel, the dress tucked under your arm. You had forty minutes to shower, do your makeup, and get ready, you wanted to be perfect too.

Then, on your bed, you found a paper and a velvet box. Frowning, you plopped onto the mattress and grabbed it, examining the wine-red box that felt soft in your palm.

Heart pounding, you slowly opening it.

Inside was a shell pearl brooch. Mouth agape with surprise, you delicately took it out. It was heavy, you could feel it in your hand. It was real, it matched perfectly with the bridesmaids' dresses' pearls that you had sewed earlier.

You gently placed the brooch back in its compartment, and, fingers shaking, grabbed the small note, eyes scanning over the familiar handwriting.

"Dalsae, the bravest birds are those who fly at night. You carry within you all the rays of the Moon."

If you didn't have a wedding to attend, you might have collapsed right there and here and grinned like a teenager with a crush all night.

☽

Down in the lobby, you found Benoit. He greeted you with open arms, kissed you again. You were tired of kisses that evening.

"Woah, splendid!" he declared. "Very pretty and-"

A shadow made him stop mid-sentence.

"Wooo, airport guy!"

You turned. Your breath hitched. Seunghyun was wearing a black suit, black tie over a white shirt, his hair tousled elegantly. His dimple still left an adorable mark on his cheek, you wanted to bite him.

But he frowned. "We need to go. We can’t be late."

"Yes, I’ll take her!"

Benoit started pulling you, but Seunghyun grabbed your arm.

"No, I’m taking her with me."

Benoit let go of you and gave a surprised glance from him to you, then from you to him. "Well, I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a girlfriend to meet. She's waiting in my car."

"A girlfriend?"

Seunghyun’s eyes suddenly seemed less hard. He even smiled, a smile that stretched from one ear to the other.

"Oh really? Can you drop us off with you?"

What's with the sudden change?

"Ouais, if you want. We’ll have to squeeze," he shrugged. "Come on, let’s go!"

You shot Seunghyun a glare at his rudeness, but he grinned at you, unfazed. You pinched his arm once you were sitting on the cracked leather of Benoit’s car, all crowded together shoulder to shoulder while Benoit cranked up some French rock, singing loudly with his girlfriend.

"Well, what?" he asked.

"Well, nothing?"

You made a face, and he grabbed your wrist as you tried to pinch him again. The two lovebirds ignored you, making out at every red light.

"Well, yes. You’re as red as a tomato."

He smirked. But where did this sudden ease and shyness come from? What a brat! The Seunghyun of your youth was back, teasing and mischievous.

"Eyes on the road," he scolded. "You’re distracting me."

You tapped his shoulder gently, and he laughed. Then, you let yourself melt into your seat as you approached the Arc de Triomphe, where the ceremony would begin. Dong-hyun would have preferred Montparnasse, but you had learned, at your own expense, the impulsiveness of his fiancée.

"The brooch suits you so well," Seunghyun suddenly murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You shivered, brushed it away with a finger on your lips, but he smiled. "Dalsae."

He was there. Just him and you.

☽

The ceremony began with fireworks. Literally. Soo-yeon wasn’t necessarily rich, but she was a spender. “The last white dress we wear won’t have pockets,” she said, laughing.

In fact, she laughed a lot. All evening.

When Dong-hyun took her hand, he greeted Seunghyun and you, casting you an apologetic glance. He loved you two as a couple, after all, he was one of the reasons it ever worked out.

Later at night, you handed each of the of the teenagers a barrette, sewn at the very end, as a thank you, which they loved.

The bridesmaids were glowing. Passersby whistled, jumped, sang along with you, throwing confetti, and then the group walked toward the Eiffel Tower, where the next part would take place.

Throughout it all, Seunghyun stayed near you, silent. He had given Ju-bin an autograph and even one of his keychains, and she was overflowing with joy.

Soo-yeon was stunning. The most beautiful, a graceful swan with her hair styled in a pink bun. People couldn’t stop praising the dresses. Then, as you neared the Eiffel Tower, you suddenly felt your pulse quicken.

“Hyun…”

He turned to you.

“Hm?”

“The wedding… we’re doing it underneath, aren’t we?”

He looked up. Stared into the your pupils that pulsed with fear.

“Oh.”

Your eyes burned. You felt the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “Down there, right?” You pointed under the Eiffel tower. You were hoping that he wouldn't tell you you had to go up.

He took your hand. “Do you remember the Ferris wheel?”

You nodded, sniffling.

“Yeah… but…”

The first guests boarded the elevator - Dong-hyun, his wife, and then the rest of the guests gradually. There were some famous faces, but DIANE was still nowhere to be seen.

Seunghyun took your hand, briefly stepped away from the crowd, and you found yourselves in a secluded, dim alley. A stray cat ran away.

“Do you remember what I told you?”

You nodded.

“The bravest birds are the ones who fly at night. And you…” He kissed the edge of your fingers. “You are my moon bird. You can do anything”

Feverish, you shook your head, your hair suddenly cold against your shoulders, tears falling.

“Stop that! When you do this, I feel like we could try again!” you cried.

He let go of you for a moment, surprised. “But I-”

“No! Stop!”

You pushed him away and ran out of the alley. “You are bad! How dare you do that to your girlfriend?!”

You exited the alley, and he chased after you, grabbing your wrist, but you pulled away.

“Let go of me! You can’t do this to me! All these years I…”

Unconsciously, you followed him. He walked backward, and you entered the elevator without realising. Your shoulder hit the glass, and the doors closed, but you were alone, and your ears were ringing. You released all your anger.

“I can’t take it anymore!” you cried again. “I never wanted to leave you! Damn it, I loved you so much…”

He said nothing, just watched you with a calm face, slightly tilted as if to better listen, thoughtful.

“All those years away from you, it was torture,” you sobbed. “Every night, I thought you were there. That you’d come back. That it wasn’t really over.”

You wiped your eyes with your wrist.

“We never really left each other, did we?”

Your teary eyes lifted to meet his. He bit his lower lip, looked at you with all the words stuck in his throat. Taking one step toward you, he gazed at you in a way that made your heart flutter like it never had before. Under his eyelashes, his eyes shone like a constellation.

He lifted a hand, caressing your face with his index. And he leaned in, stopping just before your lips touched.

“There was never anyone else but you.”

You dropped your handbag to the floor and wrapped your arms in one swift movement around his neck. Finally.

You were so dizzy. The distance was infinite.

No more distance. Only the truth. You crashed your lips together. Seven years without feeling that escape.

He tightened his grip around your waist, his hand moving over your hips, the back of your head, your hair, just like on that Ferris wheel and that very first kiss of an intoxicating first love.

He didn’t pull away, breathless, until you felt the cool air on your bare shoulders and the sound of a door opening.

You had reached the top.

Seunghyun was there.

And you felt relaxed.

Seunghyun's lips stretched into a proud grin as he squeezed your hand. You blushed furiously. That was his plan all along?

The terrace was cold. Seunghyun removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, then kissed your hair. Hand in hand, you walked toward your group of friends. You recognized a few old classmates, chatted, and avoided looking near the barriers, but you felt content. Benoit chuckled when he found out Seunghyun had thought you were his girlfriend.

“No thanks, I like mine too much.”

He kissed her passionately. The terrace was decorated with white petals and arches. Benoit went on stage, and a troupe arrived, setting up a piano, and light music filled the air.

A slow song.

Seunghyun extended his hand. He invited you to dance.

His arm wrapped around your waist, your hands around his neck, trembling, you were eighteen again and the boy whose hand you dreamed of holding made you swirl in your room.

You melted into his arms, and together, you began to move to the intoxicating rhythm of the instruments. The air became pleasant. Seunghyun smelled good. The house. Your life, your youth, growing up. You wanted a life with this man.

He let you rest against his chest where his heart beat. Years ago, when, even though you two were official, you came home to red balloons and him in a suit holding a bouquet of red roses for your two-years anniversary. Your parents were smiling proudly, they loved him like a son. You had run to him, hurling yourself into his arms while your heart was threatening to break through your chest.

And when he invited you to your first dance in the living room, interlacing your fingers, whispering in your ear how beautiful you were. How familiar he smelled.

How you had told yourself that this was home.

Home was here. It had always been.

You pulled away slightly, watched him, chin resting on his chest. He looked down too, smiling softly, before leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

You could do with that, this as your home for the rest of your life.

The music stopped, you still hadn't time to separate, when a hand tapped your shoulder.

Looking behind you, fingers still in Seunghyun's hand, you saw a woman with a slicked bun.

"I was told you created... these pieces?"

The woman pointed with her long, manicured fingers at the dresses, all of them your creations. Soo-yeon watched you from afar, giving you a friendly wave and a wink. You blushed.

"I... Yes?"

The woman smiled slyly.

"It’s awful."

You froze, and Seunghyun shot her a dark look, starting to pull you away, but a small laugh, reminiscent of a cat's purr, cut through the air.

"Awful that we didn’t meet sooner!"

Your eyes widened.

"I am DIANE."

She was there, her face stern yet not too wrinkled, eyes like a lynx’s, lips tight. She extended a hand toward you.

"I’m looking for apprentices. Here, in Paris."

Seunghyun’s hand never left yours, tightening around it, encouraging you to listen.

"I’ve been told you’re quick and efficient, but I don’t take that on faith. I’m offering you a trial period. We’ll cover twenty percent of your rent and give you a salary. If it works out, I’ll keep you for a year, and after we’ve created a collection together, you’ll fly on your own."

Was it a dream? Seunghyun's fingers squeezed yours. Oh.

"Can I... think about it?"

DIANE wrinkled her nose but gave a small sigh, extending her hand.

"Fine. I’ll give you my number."

You took your phone from your small bag, opened the phone app. She sighed when you took too long, but finally, she entered her digits and handed it to you, making it ring. Then, she smirked confidently.

"See you soon."

As soon as she walked away, Seunghyun twirled you in the air. But when he let you go, you bit your lower lip.

"What’s wrong? You should be jumping for joy!"

You burst into tears again, wrapping yourself in his arms.

"I don’t want to leave! I want to be with you! But I also want to try!"

He remained thoughtful for a moment, then took your hand and played with each of your fingers for a while before letting your hand fall. "We had problems," he repeated. "With the group. Big Bang."

You tilted your head. "And?"

His gaze darkened. "It’s probably the end."

You held him tight, worried. "Really? And so what?" you asked, your voice trembling against his chest.

He pulled back slightly to see your face, placed a quick kiss on your forehead. "We can try. A year."

You took a moment to understand. A what? A year of-

"You mean-"

He nodded. "I need a long vacation, time to rebuild myself before rapping again. And you need this opportunity. So, maybe..."

You let go of everything you were holding, crashed your lips to his, pulled back feverishly, then kissed him again.

"Yes!" You exclaimed. "A thousand times yes! I’m so happy, I..."

You looked at him tenderly, and he too leaned in. The world felt gentle.

"I love you," you whispered. "I love you so so so so much, Seunghyun. I’ve always loved you."

He smiled and kissed you again.

"Me too. I love you," he caught your hand, palm to the sky, and closed each fingers one by one, starting with the thumb, "a little", then your index finger, "a lot", then your middle finger, "passionately", then your ring finger, "madly". Then your pinky.

You pouted. "Hey, the last one is 'not at all'!"

He laughed, kissed you. "No, the last one, it’s both of us, forever. Madly, passionately."

The moon shone high.

"Because you are my Moonbird. A fragment of happiness."

His lips found yours again.

"Forever."

You smiled.

Yeah. This was home. You could do with that.

if you read until there hiii ily! please lmk what you think <3 I hope you have enjoyed it! (it's very much a rom-com atp😭)

also my divider doesn't exist rendered. pain

tag list: @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren @sevendaysummer @gdinthehouseee @eru-vande @bluesunss @emmiesoverthemoon @petersasteria @currentloser @makeitworse @berfgrimm @sherxoo @aizshallnotbefound @keiraryan

[roseareeh]

Take Me To Church | Eddie Munson x Pastors Daughter! Reader

Notes: I have noticed that Christian girls are either incredibly sexualised or incredibly rude in most fics. So I'm here to feed you another version. Enjoy! 🤍

Words: 7.5k

Warnings: None, pure fluff!

Eddie never attended church. In fact, he avoided it like the plague. But there was one day a year he went: When Wayne made him go on Christmas Eve. He said it's "Part of Christmas, and the reason why you get a present in the first place.", so Eddie couldn't argue about that with his uncle. So he sat in the pew, surrounded by hundreds of strangers who all probably felt the same as Wayne. And the situation gave him a little laugh when he saw Gareth in the pew behind him, all dapper in a suit his mother made him wear.

He did have another feeling besides some fun; Adoration.

Eddie first saw you when you stood behind the podium to read the story of how Mary got pregnant and Jesus was born. You wore a white veil over half your hair, that just made your (Y/H/C) locks look even more beautiful. A small blush played on your cheeks, which made your (Y/E/C) eyes stand out more. For the first time, Eddie actually listened while sitting in church. He was so fascinated by your voice, he'd listen to you all day even if you were just reading from the Bible. And when you stepped down from the podium, your red, long skirt did a small bounce with every step you took. How has he never noticed you before? You must be around his age, and Hawkins High was the only school in town.

His eyes kept wandering over to you, watching how you sat next to the preacher with a woman that looked an awful lot like you. Is that your mother?

He heard your angelic voice again when you made the announcements at the end. Again, he listened closely to your beautiful voice, even if the information given didn't matter to him. He left church happy, for the very first time. And with actually knowing the story of Jesus for the first time in his life.

When everyone returned to school after the holidays, Eddie kept an eye out for you. It only took him until his third period to see you walking into his world class. How has he never noticed you before? Sure, you dressed pretty modest and not in a way that would draw attention. But your face. How could he never see your beautiful face? Now that you had your hair up in a ponytail, he could see your pretty features even better. And he knew it had to be you when he saw the gold cross charm hanging on your necklace.

He had to admit to himself that he had an immediate crush on a church girl. Out of all people.

But how would be talk to you? There is no way that you'd actually wanna hang out with him. But faith, or maybe even God himself, played into his hands that day when the teacher announced a partner project. She put teams together by drawing names from a bowl.

"Edward Munson and (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." You looked up in an attempt to find Edward. You've never heard his name before, but quickly saw him when he gave you a small wave. Once you two pushed your tables and chairs together, the teacher announced the assignment: a presentation about a historical figure from any country and time. That sounds fun!

Everyone in class started chatting, and so did you. "Do you have an idea?" Honestly, Edward looked a bit lost. "So, I was thinking maybe Amelia Earhart or Harriet Tubman. Unless you have any ideas, of course." You are so nice and chirpy, Eddie thought. How adorable.

"I know embarrassingly little about historical figures.", he admitted. But despite that confession, you still smiled. "That's okay, we all have our interests. I really enjoy reading about women in history, so I can give you some suggestion and we can choose together." How were you so kind? It amazed him.

You took your notebook out and wrote down a few names, then turned it to show him. With a lot of patients, you gave him a quick rundown of every woman in history you could report about. From Joan D'Arc, to Queen Elizabeth I, all the way to Anne Frank. He appreciated your patience, and getting to listen to your sweet voice was a nice bonus. In the end, the two of you agreed on Mary, Queen of Scots.

"I have a few books on her, maybe you can come over after school?", you suggested in a chirpy tone. How are you so nice? "Just, uhm...maybe see what you wear. I think it's up to you to wear what makes you happy, but my dad is a pastor, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." Eddie looked down at his Hellfire Shirt and the pins in his jean jacket. "I'll find something else, I think.", he said with a slight grin. How adorable was it that you warned him. "But he'll like your ring.", you said with a giggle while pointing at the thick, cross-with-skulls ring Eddie had on his pointer. "Oh yeah?", he said with laughter laced in his voice. "You like it, too?" You giggled at that. "I think I do." You leaned foward a bit. "Yeah, it's pretty!"

When he left class that day, he's never felt happier. He didn't know projects could actually be fun. You two agreed to meet the next evening at your house for the project and dinner. Eddie truly has never been more excited to eat at somebody elses home.

"Good evening.", he greeted the woman that opened the door. It was the same woman who sat next to you in church, so he figured that she was your mother. He didn't notice her pregnant belly last time, but now he did. "Good evening, you must be Eddie." Her voice was just as calming and relaxed as yours. Now he knew where you got it from. "Yeah, I'm here to do the project with (Y/N)." She nodded and hurried him inside before giving him a pair of single-use slippers.

"Honey, your friend is here!", your mother yelled upstairs. He heard some footsteps coming downstairs at a quick pace, then you stood before him. "Hey Eddie.", you chirped. "Dinner's ready in 30 minutes, show him around in the meantime.", your mother advised before walking back in the kitchen. You nodded and started showing him around. The living room was massive, and he was a bit confused once he saw 12 chairs at the large dining room table. It all made sense when he saw pictures upon pictures of your family hanging next to the stairs. "You have a lot of siblings.", Eddie commented while taking a look. Since this was a pretty normal reaction, you giggled a bit. "I have 11 siblings, and mum is having number 12 soon." He actually stopped in his tracks. In some way, he assumed there were a few uncles and aunts in the family pictures. Those were all your siblings?! And you saw his surprised face, so you took a picture down and sat on the stairs with him. It was one you took at your youngest brothers baptism last year. "So the baby is Isaiah. He's a bit over a year old right now." And that's how he learned all your siblings names, ages and that three of your eldest brothers and sisters stayed in Arkansas which he also now knew you were originally from. "Oh, I'm sorry, I tend to be a chatterbox. I didn't ask, do you have siblings?" He barely recovered from the infodumping, which made him fumble over his words a bit until he found then again. "No, I'm an only-child.", he mumbled while scratching his neck in embarrassment. "I live with my uncle." To you, that was fascinating. You never heard about that. "Is it nice?", you kept asking curiously. He huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, Wayne is cool.", he simply said. It didn't seem like he wanted to talk about his family much, so you let it be. "I'll show you my room!", you said excitedly while getting up. He was infatuated by how excited you were about everything. How can a person be this happy all the time? And why did it make him happy to simply be in your presence, aside from your beauty?

Your room was very prim and proper. What stood out were the multiple crosses in various sizes, styles and colours hanging above your bed. "You're very religious, aren't you?", he joked. "Can you tell?", you giggled. He had another look around and saw your overstuffed bookshelf. "That are the books I told you about." With ease, you pulled out three books. "We'll need those later.", you mumbled while putting them on your desk. "Oh, I'm assuming we'll do the project in the dining room because I can't have boys in my room for too long." He may have judged a bit with any other girl, but when you said it, it was adorable. When you looked over at him, there was this dreamy look on his face. Eddie looked...really cute like this. It made your stomach feel a bit tingly.

"Dinner's ready!", you two heard from downstairs. That snapped you out of your funny feeling, and you walked downstairs with Eddie. He could smell the food already, and honestly didn't know how hungry he was until that moment. And then, his stomach audibly grumbled once you two sat down next to each other. All of your siblings living in the house either came running along or were carried by another family member to be put in their high chair. He noticed that your father wasn't there, but he might just be caught up at work. Although he was still glad he picked an AD/DC shirt, since your mother was just as Christian.

Overall, it was unusual to Eddie, from the harmony going on to the sheer amount of people in this house. It really didn't look that big on the outside, where were all these rooms?

"We pray before we eat.", you whispered to him while taking his hand and that of your sibling sitting on your right. Even though it was just for praying, he loved holding your hand. And then it happened; his crush on you was settled.

Eddie couldn't stop thinking about that day. You were so sweet to him, although you had every reason to be mean like the basketball guys. And now, whenever you walked into class, you gave him a wide smile. Except today, where you walked up to him. "Hey, do you wanna eat lunch together? My mum packed me some extra." He loved the food your mother cooked last time, how could he say no?

You two sat at a table, seperate from both your usual peer groups. "Some Mac n' Cheese and home-made bread with home-made butter.", you said with your signature smile while sliding the two plastic containers over to him. "Does she always cook from scratch?", he asked while opening the food. You nodded as you picked up a fork-full of mac n' cheese. "Pretty much. I don't really remember not seeing her do it herself, except when I got a new sibling. Then the oldest usually orders takeout, so our parents don't know." The way you giggled as this, like it was the worst thing you could think of doing behind your parents back, was adorable. You're so innocent and pure, the complete opposite of him. "So you get to order takeout with this baby?", he asked after swallowing a bite from the bread and butter. Again, you giggled and squealed a bit. "I do! I'm so excited!" Eddie couldn't help but laugh at your adorable antics. "I'm going to get pizza for everyone, I love pizza." Honestly, he'd get this excited over pizza, too. All this excitement made you a bit irrational - you've been thinking a lot about why being with Eddie made your stomach tingle. It just didn't make sense, what would make you feel so funny? "Do you maybe wanna come over for dinner again? Even without the project?"

"I would like that.", he replied. "Promise I put on my most Christian clothes." You looked down at the shirt he was wearing, which read 'Black Sabbath' in bold letters. "Yeah, my dad might think it's a bit...controversial.", you agreed. It still surprised him that it didn't bother you enough to a point where you'd eat lunch with him. "Maybe tomorrow? If that's fine with you."

It was more than fine with him. He may even had a little skip in his step when he walked up to your house the next night. It was a bit more chaotic this time, with some toys laying in the front yard. Your father opened the door for him this time, but he gave you just as much of an inviting smile as your mother did last time. "You must be Munson's kid.", he said while making space for him in the doorway. How did he know him? "I am, sir.", Eddie replied before stepping in. It didn't take long for him to hear squealing kids and laughter from every corner. "(Y/N) is in the living room, I assume you know the way."

The second he turned the corner, Eddie saw you with a child on your hip. You looked beautiful like this. "Hi Eddie!", you said in a happy tone. "Look Isaiah, Eddie's back!" Against his expectations, the toddler grinned when he saw him. "I'm glad you're here. Mum's not feeling well, so dad is making dinner tonight and I'm helping with the young ones. I hope you don't mind." He shook his head no before looking around and seeing all the toys laying around. "I don't mind kids.", he stated while you two sat down on the couch. At least he wanted to, until a loud "BAA!" came from underneath his butt. Eddie jumped up to see the stuffed lamb he accidentally sat down on. Both you and your brother giggled. "Sorry, that's Isaiahs.", you giggled while taking it away. Reluctantly, he sat back down on the couch while watching you tickle your brothers nose with the lamb. It was adorable to witness.

"What's with Christians and lambs?", he blurted out. He saw so many lambs in your house and whenever he drove by church. Especially during Easter time. But that question made you happy, you loved talking about your religion!

"John the Baptist called him the lamb of God, because he came down to die for our sins. Kinda like a sacrificial offering." Eddie didn't even know who John the Baptist was, but he was just happy to see you talk in such a chirpy tone. He was quickly pulled out of his thoughts my your siblings running downstairs while screaming.

"Hey, turn it down! Mum is sleeping!", you scolded the three kids. Even while telling them off, your voice remained soft. "I wanna see mommy!", the girl said with a pout. "I know Hannah, but she's exhausted from growing another baby.", you explained to her. She waddled over and sat down next to Eddie with a curious look. "You're back.", she said with big doe eyes looking up at him. "Why do you have hair like a girl? Do you wanna be a girl?" Her tiny hands reached out to touch his hair, but you leaned over to scold her again. "Hannah, we don't judge people. That makes God unhappy." Now he knew why you haven't judged him once. "We talked about this."

Hannah grumbled and crossed her arms before her chest before walking off with a huff.

"She's quite the character.", Eddie chuckled. Honestly, he loved getting to know your family better. There wasn't much chance for it last time. "I love her to pieces, but she's in an exhausting phase right now." At least Isaiah was contempt in your arms with his stuffed animal. "Makes me question if I actually want that many kids, honestly."

"Do you want that many?", Eddie asked, a bit shocked. You giggled at his surprised expression. "Not 13. Maybe 5 or 6." That was still a lot, although less than half of what your mother went through. "Do you wanna have kids?" He sighted and leaned back against the couch. "I don't know...maybe. I don't have much experience with babies." You bit the inside of your cheek while watching him. Why did his eyes show some sort of fear. "Here, hold him.", you said. Eddie couldn't even protest before you plopped your baby brother into his arms. "That's your experience, congratulations." Isaiah looked up at Eddie and cooed before leaning against his chest. It was adorable, honestly. "How does it feel?" Instinctively, he started stroking your little brothers head with one hand while the other one was on his back to avoid an accident. "You're witty.", he said with a grin. "It's not so bad."

"Even a Hannah has her good moments.", you said. "I'm not trying to convince you or anything, but I'm just saying that kids can be a blessing." Did you actually try not to convince him? Why was it so important to you that he wanted kids? And why did you feel so warm inside when you saw Eddie with your little brother?

While you were starring at the floor while stuck in your head, he got to see that beautiful expression on you. With your eyebrows a bit knitted and part of your tongue sticking out while thinking. Did you always do that? Did he just never notice before? How adorable.

"Dinner's ready!", your father yelled from the dining room. Eddie got up with you, brother in arm, and walked right behind you.

"That's not what I usually listen to.", Eddie said in a chuckled tone while looking through your vinyl collection. It mostly consisted of Keith Green, Petra and 2nd Chapter of Acts. "What do you listen to?", you asked curiously while standing behind him. From his shirts, you knew a bit but not everything. He turned around to face you, and accidentally very closely so. Did he always smell this good? Did you always look this cute?

"Oh, uhm...", he started stuttering. "Like, uh...Metallica, for example. Or Iron Maiden, and Aerosmith." You listened, and looked fascinated while doing so. Considering your family and what he saw in your music collection, this probably felt like discovering a whole new universe. "Can you show me some time?", you asked in a sing-song voice. He let out a small laugh and scratched his neck. "Sure, uhm...maybe after school tomorrow? I can drive you home if you want." You nodded in agreement. "That sounds lovely, Eddie."

You couldn't sleep that night. All that was running through your head was Eddie driving you home. Why did it feel so exciting? Why did he feel so exciting? No amount of tossing and turning, praying or reading your bible helped making you sleepy.

You groaned into your pillow and got up again to find anything to do. But your room was clean, you couldn't even concentrate on a simple prayer and you finished your homework.

The slippers helped with quieting your steps while sneaking downstairs. Maybe some warm milk and honey would help. Although your mother standing in the middle of the kitchen scared you a bit and made you yelp out. "I'm sorry, honey.", she quickly apologised. "Why are you up?"

"Why are you up?", you asked back. It wasn't until then that you saw the plate of leftovers on the kitchen counter. "Growing a baby makes a woman hungry at the oddest times, honey." You giggled a bit before walking to the fridge and getting out milk. "I can't sleep, my head won't stop thinking." She leaned against the kitchen counter with the plate in her hands. That was your mother - she knew something new was rattling in your brain. "Thinking about what? Or who?" She hit a bulls eye with the who. While putting a cup of milk in the microwave, you started telling her all about your thoughts. That ever since Eddie offered to drive you home, you couldn't stop thinking about him. How you noticed that he smelled nice, and you wanted to get to know more about him for no apparent reason. That you thought the curiosity you felt wasn't about that he lived much differently than you, but more about him as a person. Once you were done with your talking and finished your milk with honey, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"I felt that way about a boy too when I was your age.", she said with a half-full mouth of food. That made you peak up in interest. "What did you do?"

"I'm currently having his 13th baby."

Were you in love? It would explain why you didn't know this feeling yet. With being at church your entire childhood and having only girl-friends, it made sense. "It's called having a crush, honey. It was ought to happen to you, and it's nothing bad. It can be really nice, actually." It didn't feel much nice when you couldn't sleep, but it felt good when your stomach tingled. "Is it like love?", you asked curiously. Your mother chewed on her noddles while thinking. "Not necessarily. But it can turn into love." With a hum, you started drinking your milk and thinking about her words.

"I saw the way he looks at you, honey. Try to find a good moment to tell him. You might regret it if it's to late." She kissed you on your forehead and smiled. "Go to bed, pray about it, find your inner strength. You have a lot of it."

"I don't think dad would like him very much...in the long run.", you confessed. Eddie was not who your father wanted for you. If it all went according to him, you'd marry someone from your church, who would listen to Keith Green with you while doing puzzles. A nice Christian boy. But you doubted that Eddie was even baptised. "Let me handle your father. I know a few tricks."

"That's so loud!", you squeaked while Eddie drove out of the parking lot. Currently, Iron Maiden was booming out of his speaker as he drove you home. "A good loud?", he asked with a grin. It was adorable whenever you were excited. "Yes, a good loud!" You were practical bouncing in your seat to the music. "I didn't think I'd like that!" It hit every part in your brain just right to satisfy you. You knew you couldn't listen to this at home, and maybe the lyrics weren't exactly biblical, but it tingled in your brain just right.

Meanwhile, Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye. Your bouncing, your giggling, the wide grin, yoir squealing. Everything about it was adorable. You were adorable. Who knew someone could look this adorable while listening to music about slaughtering humans?

"If you like this, you're really gonna like Metallica.", he said with a chuckle.

"It gets better?!"

Eventually, Eddie parked in your driveway and turned off the music. While picking up your bag from the foot well, you saw a magazine laying there. "What's that?", you asked. The first thing you saw was the word 'Satanic' in bold, red letters, then that it was a Newsweekly. You picked it up from the ground and skipped over the pages to find the article advertised on the cover. "Oh, that..." This might be the moment he fucks this all up. You enjoying being around him, your cute giggles and adorable grin. "We read it in our club...it's kinda..."

"Dungeons and Dragons?", you asked, bit confused. The article explained that it was a satanic game, made to infiltrate American kids and how it depicted satanic rituals, the devil, torture and murder. It took you a while, but you eventually put two and two together. "Is that what you do in your club?" There was some upset in your voice, but it was more of a sad one.

Is this really the person you had a crush on? This is what he spends his free time with?

"Well, yes.", he said while scratching the back of his neck out of nervousness. "But it's really not as satanic, or whatever, as it sounds there." Eddie still saw your confused look and furrowed brows that read disappointment. You took a deep breath in and closed the magazine. "It just sounds...scary to me." He did understand that. You were shielded from most those things, at least that's what it sounded like from what you told him about your childhood.

"Maybe, if you want to, you can tag along to a game?", he suggested. Your head shot up at that, causing you to look at him like a deer in headlights. Eddie could see how unsure you were just by looking into your eyes. Naturally, it scared you. Once you read the wors 'Satanic', it was ought to scare you off. Your dad was a pastor, after all. Meanwhile, he also remembered what you told your younger sister: "We don't judge people, that makes God unhappy.". That wad basically what he held on to right now.

"Maybe you can change my mind.", you said with a small smile. After all, you had a crush on him. Why shouldn't he able to show you what he enjoyed? "I could tag along next time your club me-" You got cut off by your own words. How would you explain it to your parents? Should you...lie? But that's not allowed, isn't it?

Meanwhile, Eddie was confused by your sudden quietness. He understood what you were going for, but it didn't seem like you wanted to finish your sentence.

"I would like to have you at the next campaigns.", Eddie said with a small smile. You nodded quietly and finally grabbed your bag. "I'll ask if I can.", you mumbled. Honest to God, you were still unsure about this. "I'll tell you tomorrow, yeah?" A small smile played on Eddie's lips at your words. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Thanks for taking me. And showing me your music." Regardless of everything he just told you, you still smiled at him before leaving the van.

You did make a decision, and told a small lie to your parents. Or at least not the entire truth. They thought you stayed longer at school so you could see what Eddie's club was up to, but left out the details of the exact game. When they questioned you, you just told them they'd he playing a board game.

So there you were, sitting between Eddie and Gareth while watching what the group (or how Eddie said they call it, Party) was doing. The story went that they, or their characters, were in a town called Saltmarsh and had to find out the secret of an abandoned house. For the first 30 minutes, you quietly watched and listened. Until they all got on a boat and Eddie started talking about the monsters appearing. He set down a figurine on the board, but that one simply confused you. Especially with everyone else being upset by seeing it.

"Whats that?", you asked curiously with knitted brows. "That's a dragon turtle", Gareth said, like it was obvious to you. It was, in fact, not. "Dragon...turtle?" Does it spit underwater fire? Where are it's wings? "A really big turtle.", Eddie said, knowing it was the easiest way for you to understand. "Oooh.", you said quietly. Now you see it. Everyone around the table laughed, until Eddie said their ship was wrecked by said Dragonturtle. That's when the laughter died down, and rather quickly at that.

It got even worse when Sirens appeared. You only knew about mermaids, so the concept of Sirens confused you a bit. But you understood the idea rather quickly.

And unfortunately for Gareth, his character got lured in by them. "Why me?!", he yelled in an upset tone while looking absolutely lost. "That's what lust gets you.", you commented, which made Eddie burst out laughing. You didn't know that he had Gareths character be lured in because he was actually the biggest horndog of the entire group, which made your words even funnier.

For whatever reason, your questions and absent-minded comments made the entire campaigns funnier for everyone. It showed Eddie that you actually enjoyed DnD, even though he saw you clutching your cross necklace every one in a while. Later in the car, you were grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Someone had fun.", he said while buckling his seatbelt. "That was so much fun!", you squealed. "I could've watched even longer! That was not what I was expecting!"

Your expression was adorable. He could kiss your pretty face just from looking at you like this. "Maybe we can find a campaign you'd like.", he suggested. That made your face light up even more. "You'd do that for me?"

Eddie would do just about anything for you at this point. He had to face that his crush was growing into falling in love. How could he not?

"Sure, if you want.", he started the car and drove to your house. His plan was to make a campaign just for you and have everyone tag along, but you didn't need to know that yet.

You kept going on and on about how much fun you had, and that you didn't understand the article from Newsweekly. But your words abruptly stopped when you saw your dad's car missing in the driveway. "What's wrong?", Eddie asked you. You've seen this scenario many times before, at this point it could only mean one thing if both cars were gone by this time. Plus, you knew he didn't work late today. "Mom's having the baby.", you mumbled. He couldn't bring anything out but an "Oh."

"It's fine. I'll get in and see how the kids are." You smiled at him while opening the passenger door. "See you tomorrow! Thank you for today!"

But he didn't see you tomorrow. You didn't come to school, or the day after. Maybe something happened with your mother? Eddie decided to drive over to your place after his second period. When you opened the door, you looked beyond stressed. Hair in a messy ponytail, baggy clothes and worn-out slippers. "Oh thank God, Eddie.", you groaned in relief. "Can you help me, please?"

He came inside to see a mess in the living room. Toys scattered everywhere, snack packaging on the floor and crumbs on every surface humanly possible. Your two youngest brothers was quietly playing in his playpen, but that was the only thing that seemed to calm you. "What's going on?", he asked in a concerned tone. Your house was always clean, or at least only a bit lived-in, when he was over. Never like this. "I have to do this all by myself, I can't do it." You were so close to tears, holding them back barely worked. "It was so easy in Arkansas, we had my aunts and uncles to help." Instinctively, he pulled you into a hug. You didn't mind it at all, it was just what you needed right now. Some tears rolled down your cheek and into his shirt. Eddie felt the wet spot on his top, but he didn't mind. Not when you were so worn-out. "It's gonna be alright, I'll help you.", he promised while still holding onto you.

"Thank you.", you sniffled while whiping your eyes with the back of your hands.

While picking up some of the toys, you told him what you have to do today. "I have to pick up three of them from middle school, one from high school and three from elementary. Then, three of the girls have cheerleading and two of the boys have softball. Sara wants to go to the arcade with some friends as well, and...oh, I need groceries." Your hand ran over your hair. Eddie put the books in his hand back in the bookshelf and walked over to you. "You pick up the kids from elementary, I'll pick them up from middle- and highschool. But we still have some time, so let's clean and get groceries. Okay?" How was he so level-headed right now? To be fair, he hasn't been stuck like this for over a day. It was all growing over your head.

"I'll get the boys ready.", you said. "I'll help.", he replied. It wasn't an offer, it was a decision. Jonah was walking already and wandered into the hallway with Eddie, while you put Isaiah in his overall on the couch.

You four got the grocery shopping done in no time. There was honestly something about watching Eddie with your brothers in the cart, pushing them through the isles with you. You never understood what your friends meant when they said a boy did something attractive until that very moment. It stunned you, so much so that you were just kinda starring at him when he asked you what kind of milk you needed.

"(Y/N)?", he asked. Yet you kept starring. "You okay?"

"I have a crush on you.", you blurted out. While he looked at you with a lightly shocked face, you covered your mouth with your hand. "I-I...", you stuttered, not knowing how to come back from that. Eddie's expression went from shocked to soft, with a smile playing on his lips. "I have a crush on you, too.", he said. Butterflies were flying around in both your stomach, and there was some kind of electric tension between you two. Should you kiss him? Can you kiss him?

"Sissy, choco milk?", Jonah interrupted the moment. It made the two of you look over at him. His small, chubby arm was pointing at a bottle of chocolate milk. "You have to share, okay Jonah?", you said to him while putting it in the cart. "Can we talk about this again later?", Eddie asked you. Both of you were aware that the middle of a grocery store was possibly the worst time and place. "Sure.", you replied with a small smile. Since both of you liked each other, you were hoping for a good outcome. And so was he.

Once everyone was back home from their after-school activity, you put pizza as dinner on the table and did the dishes with Eddie, you both crashed on the couch. Jonah and Isaiah were playing on the floor while the others either went to do their homework or play together.

"Thank you, Eddie. Really, I wouldn't know what I would do without you." His hand found yours and squeezed it. "I'd do anything for you...because I like you a lot." It all circled back to that moment at the grocery store from earlier. Just him holding your hand made you wanna giggle. "So, when I like you too...should we be...a couple?", you stuttered. As he was about to reply, the phone rang.

"Biscuits.", you mumbled in a frustrated tone while getting up. It was your father calling from the hospital, telling you your mother had a little girl they named Bethel. Finally, another girl. "I'll be home tonight, your mother had a long labour and needs to rest." Of course she did, she'd been gone for almost two days. "Okay, I'll see you then...oh, dad?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Can I...kiss before marriage?" There was some silence on the other line before he cleared his throat and talked. "It's okay as long as it doesn't lead to...more. Why?" How would you explain that one.

"Just wondering.", you lied. You lied?! "Bye dad, love you. Tell mom we miss her."

Eddie's head peaked up when he saw you walking back around the corner. "What was it?", he asked. You sat back down next to him and got comfortable. "Dad called, mom had the baby. Her names Bethel." He smiled at that. "That's nice, (Y/N)." Neither of you could believe that your talk kept getting interrupted.

"I would like to be your boyfriend.", he finally said. A grin spread on your face and a squeal left your mouth. "I want you to be my boyfriend!" He laughed at your excitement while letting you jump into his arms. "I'm the happiest girlfriend ever!" One of his hands pet your upper back while the other stroked your hair.

Eddie couldn't remember the last time he was this happy.

"Honey, does it have to be Eddie?", your father asked. A few days after your mother came back from the hospital with baby Bethel, you decided to tell them. "It's already Eddie, dad.", you said confidently. Luckily, your mother was on your side. She liked him, she saw how happy you were and knew he helped out while they were gone. "I just really hoped you'd find a Christian man.", he explained. "It's gonna be hard for him to adjust."

"He selflessly helped her while we weren't here, he has the right values.", your mom spoke up. "She's happy. Remember how I was when we met?" Admittedly, you didn't know much about her youth. She barely talked about it. But it seemed like that argument made your father quiet down quickly. "He's on probation." was his final word before walking off.

"We won that one.", your mother said with a grin while giving you a fistbump.

You two had a beautiful couple of weeks so far. Eddie made a campaign about a crusade just for you, he introduced you to Wayne and even came to church with you once so far. He seriously thought just hanging out with him made you happy, but you wouldn't stop smiling and laughing after the service. How could you get even cuter?

Your father came around eventually. He told you to invite him as often as possible and started treating him like his own son. The moment Eddie held your sister Bethel for the first time was the moment you knew he was the one for you. You knew you wanted to see him like this, but with your own child.

Finally, you could convince your parents to let him sleep over. Of course they had conditions; no making out, leave the door open, no touching below the hips. It was understandable to you, Eddie needed a bit of time to understand. In the end, he was just happy to kiss and cuddle you all night. So after dinner, you two went upstairs to watch a movie in your room.

He spooned you while looking at the screen, on which E.T. played. Although neither of you really cared much about the movie when you finally got to be so close together for the very first time. Eddie couldn't stop playing with your hair, kissing your lips, holding you close. You're all he ever wanted. But with all this kissing and cuddling, you remember that you had to have a talk with him.

"Eddie.", you said in a hushed tone. His head peaked up from behind you in curiosity. "Hmm?", he mumbled. "I know you might expect some...things.", you started. "But I don't think I'd want that before marriage." Your boyfriend knew what you meant. "Are you sure?", he asked. Honestly, he was nervous about his first time with you. It wouldn't be the first time he had sex with someone, but this was different. This was you. The person he was set on spending the rest of his life with. Maybe having to wait for a while wasn't a bad decision. "I don't know.", you whispered that part, since your door was still open. "Probably. Very likely." His response was a kiss to the back of your head. Although he might bring it up again in a few months; he was glad he didn't have to be nervous about that for now. "That's okay, my little lamb.", he mumbled. "But we can still kiss, no?"

You rolled over to face him with a small smile on your lips. "We can kiss, we can cuddle, most things that don't involve...that."

"You mean sex?", he teased you with a grin. "Edward Munson!", you scolded him with a playful slap to his shoulder. "My parents can hear you.". Your boyfriend couldn't help but still giggle at your blushed face with that tone in your voice. "Sorry, honey.", he apologised while kissing your temple. "But it's cute when you get flustered."

"You said I get flustered at everything.", you giggled. His fingers ran over your waist, tickling you a bit in the process. "Because you do, my little lamb."

"I don't!", you argued back. His fingers dug into your waist, making you squeam and giggle. "Eddie!", you laughed out while he kept tickling you. "Eddie, you're mean!" Your boyfriend eventually stopped tickling you and pulled you back into a hug. "Yes you do, that alone made you flush."

"Because I was laughing.", you said with a small pout. It was adorable to look at. "Sure, honey.", he chuckled before kissing you again. "I love you."

You starred at him for a bit. This was the first time he said that to you; and it felt even better than you ever imagined. "I love you, too." One of his fingers stroked along your cheek while he smiled down at you and looked at your lips. "Good."

Your graduation passed, your one-year anniversary passed, and another one of your siblings was born. Was your mother ever done having kids?

A few days before Valentines day, Eddie came to visit your parents while you were at work in the church.

"What's going on?", your mother asked him while sitting down at the dinner table with him and your father.

"Well, me and (Y/N) have been together for a while now, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her." This wasn't the first time your parents had this kind of talk; it already happened with your older sisters husband a few years ago. "And I wanted to ask for your permission to propose to her."

Both of them started smiling at his words, your mother more than your father. "You have our permission to propose.", he said to Eddie. "But, we want her to marry in the church. You would have to get baptised for that. That's my only condition."

To Eddie, that sounded more than fair. He'd do anything to be with you for the rest of his life. "Alright, I'll get baptised before the wedding."

Three days later, the both of you were out on a date. Eddie was never one to take you to restaurants, but rather to fun places like aquariums or carnivals. That was more his setting, and you were okay with that. So for Valentines Day, he took you to an aquarium. Watching you mesmerised by the fishes, giggling while getting to pet a stingray and squealing when a shark swam over your head was about the most beautiful thing he could watch. Eddie was head over heels in love with you and never wanted that to change. So while you were watching a shoal of sweepers swim by, he took a small step back, pulled out the little velvet box and got down on one knee. "Eddie look, a clownfish!", you said excitedly while looking beside you. Why wasn't he there. With a bit of confusion, you turned to look for him, only to see him kneeling. "Eddie...", you whispered, close to tears.

Unfortunately, he couldn't find his words. His nerves got the best of him, and all he could so is look at you and open the box. You knew him well enough, and kneeled down to his level. "Yes, Eddie. I'll marry you.", you whispered, now crying. With a shaky hand, he placed the small diamond ring on your finger before kissing you. Both of you were so happy right now, so much so that you didn't notice that other visitors of the aquarium watched and started clapping.

This day was one of the best days of your life.

When you sat in the pew a few weeks later and got to watch Eddie being baptised by your father, that came close to the proposal. He was doing this for you. That's how special you were to him - all so he could marry you. So he could spend the rest of his life with you. It made your heart swell, and you were the first to clap once the water was sprinkled on his forehead.

Eddie loved you so much, you couldn't believe all he was doing just for you.

"Honey, before we order the dress, I gotta ask you." Your mother turned the corner of your parents living room, where you both were sitting to plan your wedding. Once you two were officially married, you'd move into a small apartment of your own to spend actual alone-time in.

"Do you want special underwear for your wedding? We can order it with the dress, it makes shipping cheaper." To you, that sounded good and you stood up to look through the catalog. But Eddie realized something in that very minute.

He meant to ask you about having sex before marriage a year ago. He never build up the courage because he was too nervous to do bad.

Eddie accidentally waited for you until marriage.

[scremogirl]

✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵✥☆ミ★ ???

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞-𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞

Yandere Student Council Pres x Nonchalant reader

I’m not sure if I should retitle this to Yandere! Childhood friend x reader or not. There’s not a lot of the fact he’s the SCP shown in the story. I felt like I went a little off track. I got so consumed in writing😭. I already have a post like that on my page so I didn’t want to make it confusing. I don’t know if I should’ve said unemotional reader either. Idk let me know what you think. Have fun reading!

He was at the top of the food chain. Good grades, teachers liked him, students feared him, rich, good looking, and most importantly; the student council president. With that being said, why wouldn’t he leave you alone?

Takenya was a stuck up priss in your opinion. Always lecturing you about things you could do in order of improvement. You weren’t popular but you weren’t one of those weird Naruto kids that sat in the back of the class and ate crayons either. You just existed. Someone so average at everything somehow attracted the most “perfect” guy in school. Your grades were fine; a straight A-B student with the occasional C here and there. Your attendance on the other hand… well maybe he’s not so wrong about that, but who actually wants to be at school anyways?

“I don’t understand why you don’t try harder? You could easily surpass most of our class,”

“You need to come to school. This behavior would never pass in the real world. What would your employer think of you just not showing up?”

“Chocolate for lunch…really? If you want to stay healthy you’ll need to-“

Why does he care so much anyways? Sure, you used to be friends in like what, fifth grade? You used to get bullied in school for being different. You just didn’t like the things that kids your age were supposed to like. But… it never bothered you. You weren’t emotionless per se, it’s just, why care what others have to think?

Mellisa Grey. The girliest of all girls. She used to have it out for you when you were younger. Calling you names and bumping your shoulder whenever you walked by. You put up with it until the end of the year; fifth grade graduation. That evening she and her crew thought it’d be funny to pour milk on the shy little nerdy boy in your class. Some spilled on your dress, that you didn’t mind, but the tears of the boy next to you made you. Something inside of you just snapped. You shot up from your seat grabbing a first full of her hair and slammed her head onto the wooden table. Not stopping until you saw the wire of her pink, sparkly braces fly out her mouth. Well, that was what you wanted to do; the teachers came too early for you to inflict any further damage. The most you got was a broken nose and a lawsuit. She transferred schools after that, and you got the whoopin of a lifetime. You didn’t care. You didn’t feel bad at all. If anything you felt elated seeing her in pain and the rage on her parents faces as the cussed child you out. You didn’t cry or yell when your parents picked you up. You weren’t phased by the belt or the palm of your mothers hand striking you. You didn’t feel anything. So why were you so upset on someone else's behalf anyways?

You knew this kid. I mean, how couldn’t you when he would follow you around 24/7.

“H-Hi… my names Takenya” you just blankly stared. His sheepish gaze barely meets yours from behind his big fat glasses.

“…Do I know you?”

“Well…no. But I know you!”

“Good for you I guess.” You continued to go back and forth on the swing, not acknowledging the boy's existence at all. The swing he sat on remained stationary, never once dropping his gaze from you.

“Uhm… I just wanted to thank you for yesterday,” Hm? What was he talking about? He saw the confusion in your face when you turned around to ask and beat you to the point.

“You probably don’t know me. We’re not in the same class,” Right. So why is he talking to you? Again, before you could ask he cut you off.

“The other day when recess started you helped me pick up all of my stuff after Carter pushed me down; remember? I-I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me” Ohhh, you do remember him now. He was that shy little rich kid that transferred here at the end of fourth grade. He didn’t have many friends, let alone any at all. Everyone had grown up with each other and formed friend groups at this poin. He was a little late to the party so he didn’t fit in. He wasn’t worried about the next episode of Ninjago and didn’t find humor in looking up the words penis and vagina in the dictionary at the school library when the teacher wasn’t looking. His hair long, tied back into a neat ponytail and not buzzed into a Mohawk like half the boys in your grade. He had glasses that almost covered the entirety of his upper face. He always ate his pb&js on whole wheat instead of white and preferred celery sticks over fruit snacks. So, just like you, he got bullied just because he was different.

“Oh yea. I remember you now. You’re welcome by the way,” he grinned. The first time you saw him smile ever since he came to your school.

That marked the day of a long friendship.

That was until you went to middle school. You think puberty had something to do with it. He grew into his face more and sized down those jellyfishing glasses. His scrawny figure gained slightly more bulk and dressed in a more modern fashion. His hair remained the same; a bit shorter than before but still longer than most guys. You’ve always liked his hair. He would let you braid it sometimes when he was too distracted playing on his DS. He didn’t get acne like many of the other kids your grade either, skin smooth and clear. All the girls found him to die for. Your nonchalant behavior rubbed off on him and he became more confident in himself. Not letting his elementary school self be reflected into now. He became a bit too obsessed with his studies for a middle schooler; pushing all his ways on you. He would always follow you around blabbing about not attending gym class. He even started hanging around the same snotty rich kids he would complain to you about. You became annoyed. So you cut him off. Just like that. Stopped talking to him, answering his texts, not sitting with him at lunch or in class. Even after all the rejection at his advances, he came running back to you. Not willing to let you go so easily.

The school bell rings signaling the end of 4th pd and beginning of lunch. You were planning to go off campus today and not come back. Keys in hand you make your way to the student parking lot. However, someone’s blocking the exit. He’s gotten taller, about 6’2-6’3; sleeper build accommodating his height. Glasses thinner and sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Hair as long as ever, tyed back with that same white ribbon you gave him years ago; revealing an undercut. He fixes the collar of his button up and readjusts his tie and vest.

“And exactly…just where do you think your going?”

“To lunch,”

“The cafeteria is that way,” he points with a slender finger, decorated by a diamond ring. It shimers under the lights above reflecting against his matching earrings.

“Off campus,” he raises his eyebrow, folding his arms.

“Knowing you, you won’t come back. You do realize your request for a half day schedule is still pending right? You also recognize that I’m the one who assists the principal in granting them as well?” You don’t answer him, already knowing we're going with this.

“As I said before, your attendance needs improving before I-… we can grant it,” what a pain in the ass this guy is. You try to walk past him but he stops you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t eat school lunch. I’ll be back after,” he gives you an unamused look. Hand gripping your shoulder a little tighter as you try to take another step.

“You know I can’t let you do that. Not unless you don’t want a new schedule,” he pauses.

“Not unless I come with you,” you look up.

“You’re paying?” His eyes widened slightly, shocked at your willingness. But he can’t be too surprised, he knows you don’t care about anything unless you get what you want.

“Of course I am. You need to spend your money on other priorities; like a new math textbook,” you ignore the subtle jab and walk to his car. No need to ask where as he parks next to you everyday to make sure he knows you’ve actually show up. Definitely not because your the first thing he wants to see in the morning.

“I don’t understand why you come to McDonald’s of all places,” he lets out a sigh, handing his card to the drive through worker. He drives up to the next window waiting for the food.

“It’s not healthy. You seriously should consider my offer in taking you to that new place down the street,”. He looks over when he doesn’t get a response; noticing the music blasting from your headphones as you look at the door. He sighs again before taking the food from the workers hand and grabbing your headphones. You turn your head to look at him but your gaze shifts to the bag in his hand. You reach over and grab a fry out of the bag and he s his eyes. Pulling into the parking lot, he silently watches you eat. This brings him so much nostalgia. He misses eating lunch with you everyday. Ranting while you just sit there and chew. He misses having someone listening to him about something that’s not related to school. After you stopped *attempted* talking to him in the beginning of 7th grade, his heart felt like it got ripped out of his chest.

He’s never felt anything his whole life. His father would tell him that one day he’ll find someone who makes him feel everything, makes life worth it. He’d seen the love shared between his parents everyday. He always wanted that. In the fourth grade all of that came true. He saw you getting off the bus making your way to school. He saw the way you helped up Michael Lemitzki, a dorky little boy, after Conner pushed him down. Shaggy hair, braces lining his teeth, comic books all on the floor. How pathetic. You weren’t scared of Conner at all. He was bigger than you and more popular than you, but you didn’t care. You kept a straight face as he threatened you and held your composure. No emotion showing whatsoever.

He thought you were beautiful. It was love at first sight. He was too busy staring at you to hear his father calling out to him. He followed his son's gaze to you. He looked back down at the small boy and gave a knowing smile. Takenya just stared at the other boy hugging you with tears down his face. Why is he touching you like that? Push him away already! That day he purposely made himself a target to the bullying of Melissa and Conner. Hoping that one day, you’ll save him the same way you did Jacob. He got bigger glasses, grew his hair out, and started dressing like the typical “nerd”. He would leave candies in your cubby, prized limited edition Pokémon cards in your backpack, brand new color pencils and markers showed up around you. He started to lose hope though. Why haven’t you noticed him yet!? Sure he’s never actually talked to you.. but still! Could you not see his effort?! Did you not care? He sat alone at recess that fateful day. He was randomly pushed down, papers and crayons flying out his small hands. He wasn’t in the mood for Connors teasing today. To caught up on the fact that the love of his life may never see him they way he’s dreamed of. Oh the dramatic mind of a fifth grader. He clutched the safety scissors that flew out of his pencil pouch watching the dick of an elementary schooler turn around. He was about to get up but stopped as he saw someone bend down beside him. It was you! You helped gather all his things and placed them into his arms. His heart pounded in his chest and the blush on his face spread like wildfire. Before he could say anything you walked away. Taking your place on the swing set. He hurriedly put all his things away before trying to build up the courage to come talk to you. He took to long, however, as the teacher soon yelled for everyone to make their way into the line back to their respective class.

As he reminisces on the past, an alarm rings. Telling him that it’s time to make his way back to school. You’ve already finished all your food and somehow managed to take your headphones back.

“What?” You say snapping him out of his trance. He didn’t even realize he was staring.

“Nothing,”

You make your way back to the school and go your separate ways. He walks you to class ensuring that you get there. Out the corner of his eye he sees someone wave to you. Lemitzki. His hairs more well kept, ditched the glasses for contacts showing of his green eyes. He’s taller and has more muscles now. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the jagged line that makes it’s way across his right cheek, interfering with his dimple as he smiles. It’s been awhile, the scar healed well. The once clutzy boy looks at the door and freezes, hand dropping and going pale. There’s a silent stare off between the two before the late bell rings. Takenya makes his way to class, a slight smile on his face at a sudden memory.

Watching him walk away, a fist tightens. Little does he know someone was planning on getting their revenge.

Hi loves! I hope you guys enjoyed. Take is an OC of mine I’ve had for a while just never had a name for him until now. Like his concept was in my head foreverrrr. He might be a reoccurring character. I really like him. But I did put one shot so I’m not sure. Lemme know what y’all want. Check out this post below for a little more context. Hope you enjoyed.

-Love, Sos❤️

[heartowan]

★ WINTER VISITOR : red hood x reader!

( cuss words ) ──────────────── ★

* im not from america so i have absolutely nooo idea how much is -20°c in fahrenheit im sorry 😭 *

You used to enjoy winter so much more when you were a kid. The snow, the warm clothes, the atmosphere, your mom's hot chocolate... everything was so perfect back then. Now, though, you didn't like it as much.

Not because you grew up to be an insufferable grump, but things weren't as easy. At 9, you didn't have to walk on snowy streets from campus to work to your house in a -20°C weather. Freezing your ass used to be fun when it was voluntary.

But, fortunately, the holidays were already coming, so you wouldn't have any more classes during these few weeks, and you'd also get a few breaks from your job at the bookstore. Finally, some rest.

That's what you thought when you approached your porch, pulling out the keys to open the door in a practiced movement, but you stopped when your eyes caught a glimpse of something red. Then you walked a little closer, and you were able to make out the shape of someone sitting down with their legs stretched, hand cluching their side, a weird helmet on their head and a little cropped brown jacket... what a weird combination.

You knew that helmet, though. You lived in his area, after all.

"Can I help you?" Anyone, literally, anyone, would advise you to not speak to him and simply go find some place else to crash for the night until he went away. The thing is, you wouldn't listen anyway.

He raised his head in your direction, the white eyes of that creepy/fucking weird helmet staring at you, sizing you up and probably judging the fact that you were wearing green tights and red shoes. But, hey, who even was he to judge your style choices?

"Actually, yeah." He said, and even with the modulator distorting his voice, you could hear the hoarsness and the faint tireness. "I'm fucked up over here, I'm not sure I can walk anymore."

You furrowed your eyebrows at that and reached for the phone in your pocket. Carefully, you crouched down beside him and turned on the torch to be able to see his wound better. "Let me see." You said, urging him to take his hand away.

He revealed the wound to you, and God, it was nasty. A bloody and very bumpy gash started from the left side of his abdomen to a little bit before the height of his shoulder blade. Absolutely disgusting. Whoever did that was probably trying to split him in half.

"Oh, my God." You mumbled, your eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah." He added, nodding his head in understanding to your shock. "Can you at least let me in to... I don't know? Clean it up? It just starts bleeding more if I walk, and I don't wanna get an infection."

What kind of stupid fucking little dumbo would let a stranger dressed like that into their house, especially in Gotham?

"Yeah, come on in." You said, your eyebrows furrowing even more at your own brainlessness. They were almost knitted together like a unibrow.

★...

He sat down on your couch like his body weighted tons, and you noticed how his wound did an odd ripple movement. It just got weirder.

"I have a first aid kit in my bathroom." You said, stripping off your coat and your jacket. "I'll go get it. Do you need anything else?" He just shook his head, and you quickly disappeared into the little hallway.

Red Hood used this moment to look around your house, trying to distract himself from the pain and dizziness. He took in how your walls weren't white, but some kind of eggshell color and there was a green wall too, that one covered in framed paintings, pictures and many posters, as well as some hanging plants.

There were just so many plants. Your couch was more comfortable than his bad, and you had a fluffy mat at the center of the living room, between the couch and your bookshelves, which were full of books he could barely recognize in the dim light.

Oh, yes, the lamps. You had little lamps everywhere and one big lamp beside the couch, but they were all warm and barely even illuminated a thing. They made the room very cozy, though.It was so homey, and it looked like you. If he saw you randomly on the street and for some reason he decided to guess what your house looked like from the inside, that would be it. Maybe not as many lamps, but still.

"Okay, I'm back." You walked out of the little hall in hurried steps, a little red box in your hands. You kneeled close to him on the couch. "Fuck, the lights." You mumbled, and he though your annoyed tone was funny, so he smiled a little under his helmet.

After switching on the big, white light, you kneeled again and gently moved the ripped fabric of his shirt away from the cut. He was staining your couch with blood, but you decided not to care at that moment. With some gauze and saline solution, you cleaned the whole thing up, the sides, and what you could reach of the insides, then, you sprayed some antiseptic on it.

"This is disgusting, but I don't think you'll need stitches." You murmured, not looking at him. Your eyes were focused on the wound. "At least not on the whole thing."

"I can manage." It was all he said.

"I'm gonna patch it up so it isn't exposed." He simply nodded at that, and you started covering the extension of the gash with the little pieces of gauze you had, and then, you secured them with some adhesive tape. "All done."

He stayed there for at least forty minutes, and you noticed how he seemed to have fallen asleep at some point. Maybe he was too tired. You didn't care, but you let him rest anyway.

When he woke up from his nap, you had changed outfits into something more comfortable than the jeans you wore before. A pair of gray sweatpants and a very soft brown hoodie on top of your black Iron Man t-shirt.

"You want some tea?" You offered, looking down at him as he seemed to access the situation — probably forgot what the hell had happened for a second.

"Yeah... yeah. What is it?" He mumbled, his distorted voice sounding groggy. You smiled faintly at that.

"It's peach and ginger." You said. "I like it."

You poured a small amount of it in a little mug you had. It was one of your favorites, with little leaves painted all over it.

"I put honey on it, tastes better." You handed him the mug. And then it hit you... how the hell was he gonna drink the tea with that weird ass helmet on? "How do you- oh."

He shut you up when he removed the helmet after one little click at the back of it.

"You wear a mask under your helmet?" You arched one eyebrow, and he chuckled at your reaction.

"It's for the effect." He said and took a sip of the tea. "Very sweet."

You took a moment to look at the exposed parts of his face. He had a few scars all over it, a sharp jaw and slightly plumpy lips, which were rosy from drinking the tea. He also had flushed cheeks, probably from the cold and a seemingly straight nose. You couldn't really tell the shape from that distance.

"Thanks for taking care of that... and for te tea. And for letting me nap on your couch." He said, looking up at you.

His voice sounded so melodic now without the modulator. It was just slightly raspy, not absurdly deep, but not even a little bit high, and just so much more easy on the ears than you'd ever expect Red Hood's voice to be.

"You're leaving?" You asked in a slightly exasperated tone that surprised both of you and put your own mug down. "You sure you're gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry." He shook his head, waving his hand as if to say it wasn't a big deal. You just shrugged at that.

He put his mug down, it was almost empty. So he liked the tea. With his helmet in hand and walking a little more stable than before, he offered you a small smile before stepping over to your door.

"Bye." He murmured. "Thanks again."

You stood there after he left, in your living room, with the big light on, staring at the door. What an unusual night. Your eyes drifted back to the blood stain on your couch, and you groaned internally at the fact that you were the one that was gonna have to clean that.

That only reinforced your belief that vigilantes only brought more and more trouble.

☆

first part here !!

[laursdomain]

HI !!! 💘💘 i'd like to request kind of an angsty breakup scene with bodhi, i think it started out as something fun and casual between you two but you get annoyed with him blowing you off with no excuse he hides the drop offs from you or he puts extra effort into watching over violet i honestly dont know but he just keeps lying about where he is and you decide its over.

lies

pairing: bodhi durran x fem!reader

genre: angst

synopsis: Being Bodhi Durran’s girlfriend started off beautiful and soft. Something that was so pure became tainted by lies and sneaking off. After multiple events of your boyfriend ditching you for an excuse, you finally decide that you’ve had enough. You realize you must put yourself first, since your boyfriend clearly cannot consider your well-being in your relationship. 

warnings: cursing, established relationship, bodhi’s a bad bf, relationship issues, lying

w/c: 2.1k

ྀིbodhi durran masterlist

☾☼

It started off as fun and casual. It wasn’t a no-strings-attached situation between you and Bodhi Durran, because there’s nobody on this planet who can’t not fall in love with him. It slowly turned into sweet and soft, he became your solace through the rough hardships of the Riders Quadrant. 

As you two got closer, got more intimate, you began to know him more. Underneath the rough exterior he wears during the day, he’s the sweetest boy you’ve ever met, hardened by the trauma he’s endured. It wasn’t until one day you realize he was hiding things from you.

You two had planned to meet by your designated oak tree, the place you two have met at since you started seeing one another. It became much more than a place to meet, it became a symbol of your relationship and love for one another. He told you he’d arrive two hours before dinner, at three. You knew his schedule like the back of your hand, the only class that was different from yours is the one that ended around two thirty. 

You waited far too long for him, eventually giving up and getting a late dinner around six thirty. When Bodhi had realized what he’d done, he showed up to your room past curfew, profusely apologizing. He claimed that Xaden had kept him in sparring the entire time, and by the time he’d gotten to the tree—you were gone. You found it hard to believe Xaden had him sparring for seven hours straight, but you forgave him. 

But, it did make you wary. Cautious. Maybe what everyone has been saying about the marked ones are true. Don’t trust them. They hide things. They’re secretive. Still, you gave your boyfriend the benefit of the doubt. Sweet, soft, loving Bodhi wouldn’t do something so malicious to you. Right?

Now, you storm through the hallways of Basgiath, ready to strangle Bodhi. This was the seventh time in which he has done this, always showing up hours later with some pathetic excuse. And of course, one of his alibis was a marked one. Xaden. Garrick. Imogen. You’ve grown accustomed to him having to protect Violet, her second line of defense after Liam. You understood—she was bound to Xaden. Did it make you upset? Sometimes. But, you never voiced your concerns because at the end of the day, it was you Bodhi came home to.

As time went on, you slowly stopped waiting too longfor him. If he didn’t show up in the first twenty minutes, you left. And every time it made you more and more aggravated. 

You had no idea where Bodhi Durran was. But when he showed up, you were sure you were going to murder him.

“What’s wrong?” Quinn appears next to you, worry written all over her face. She could tell you were seething, and while most cadets steered clear—Quinn never did so. In fact, she faced danger with a smile on her face. 

You stop in your tracks, facing Quinn. She stops with you, waiting for you to begin. “Bodhi showed me up, again.”

She tilts her head, “again? What number is he at?”

“Seven,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

Quinn sighs out, a sympathetic expression written on her face. “I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

Despite the sadness filling your body, the rage still washes over you like tidal waves. You can’t help but have an outburst, questioning why Bodhi does what he does. “Have I seriously done something to deserve this?” You spit out, willing any tears away from your eyes.

Quinn places a comforting hand on your arm, caressing the limb over your flight jacket, “no, you haven’t. Sometimes, partners do unexplainable things.”

“I want it to stop,” you confess, dropping your head. A tear cascades down your cheek, quickly wiped away by your friend.

“I know,” she whispers, pulling you into her arms. You accept her embrace, holding onto her flight jacket as she holds you while you silently sob. She comforts you through it, rocking the two of you back and forth until you calm down. “You should talk to him.”

You pull away, wiping your hands down your face in an effort to wipe away your tears. “Every time I do, he makes up some stupid excuse.”

“What do the excuses consist of?” She questions, watching as you take a moment to think. Telling her all six of his past excuses would be too much, so you settled on summarizing.

“He typically says that he had to do something for Xaden, or was with Xaden, Garrick, and Imogen.”

“When did he use Imogen as an excuse?”

You look her in the eye, realizing Quinn and Imogen are always together. You gulp, becoming acutely aware that the girl in front of you can confirm if Bodhi is lying to you or not. “Last week, on Tuesday, we were supposed to go for a ride on our dragons at seven, after dinner. He never showed up because he was training with Imogen.”

You noticed the way Quinn’s eyes slightly widened, before quickly masking them. Her eyes become sympathetic, while her face is grave. “I was with Imogen from dinner until bed. She never left to train.”

Your entire world turned upside down. You become speechless, unable to form any words from Quinn’s revelation. You couldn’t even think of a coherent thought, all you knew—it was over. Over for you and Bodhi. 

“Thank you,” you manage, excusing yourself to head to your room. Quinn doesn’t follow or call after you, knowing you need space and time with your thoughts. She just hoped you wouldn’t drown in them.

Once you’ve gotten into your room and locked the door, you allow yourself to crumble on the floor in despair. How could Bodhi lie to you? Even if Quinn confirmed he only lied once, his excuse about being with Imogen was incredibly similar to his other excuses. It meant he’s being lying to you this entire time.

You didn’t question what he was truly doing during those times. You questioned why he had lied to you. If he couldn’t tell you, that’s fine. All he had to do was say so. 

Tears didn’t come. No, you were more angry than sad. You couldn’t wait until Bodhi Durran showed up at your door, because when he did—you’d give him a piece of your mind.

Two knocks broke your thought. For the past three hours, you’ve been thinking what you’d say to Bodhi once he showed up. Hell, you even acted out the scenarios multiple times, surely your neighbors, aka Dain Aetos, thought you were crazy if he heard you through the walls.

You swing open the door, met with an apologetic look from Bodhi. The past six times, you were relieved and happy to see him. Yes, you were annoyed and upset, but it never compared to the love you had for him. 

This time was different. Instead of feeling relief, happiness, or love, all you wanted to do was slap him in the face. You looked him over, noticing he had his flight leathers on and his pack situated on his back. He was out somewhere. Where was the question. 

“I’m—“ he begins, but a quick flash of your hand shuts him up. You pull him into your room, closing the door behind him.

“Where were you?” You demand, curious of what excuse he’ll make this time. 

“I was asked to patrol a border with a couple of third years,” the lie rolls off his tongue like second nature. Bodhi hated lying to you, but gods, he had no choice. He had no idea how you’d react to the truth, and Xaden would kill him if he told you.

You raise a brow, “second years aren’t asked to patrol.”

“They needed extra help, so they asked Imogen and I.” He prayed you hadn’t seen Imogen earlier, because she was not present for the drop off. It was him and Garrick this time, but it seemed more believable if your fellow second-year was asked as well.

“Really?” Skepticism laced your voice, telling Bodhi that you don’t believe him.

“Baby,” he takes your hands, noticing how you don’t ease at his touch. “I’m sorry for missing our ride, leadership forced me to.”

“I know you’re lying,” you stared into his brown eyes, the ones you love oh so much. 

“I’m not,” he nervously laughs, a dead give-away.

“Bodhi,” you make eye contact with him, “I’m giving you one last chance. Tell me the truth, please.”

He opens his mouth, closes it, before opening it again. “I am telling you the truth.”

“Swear on Malek.”

His eyes widened, making no move to speak. His hands drop your own, stunned you had questioned him in the way you did.

“That’s what I thought.”

You turn away, removing yourself from his space, before Bodhi tries pulling you back. He finally recovered from the stun of your question, but you refused to let him touch you. “Baby, I can’t tell you.”

You face him again, stepping out of his grip, “why not?”

“Xaden would kill me,” he confesses, hoping it’s enough for you.

“Then why didn’t you say so the first time?” You fire back, furrowing your brows. “Did you think so lowly of me that I wouldn’t accept that as an answer?”

“I—“ Bodhi tries to speak, but you don’t let him finish.

“I knew that getting into a relationship with you meant there are things that you can’t confide in me about. I was fine with that. Had you told me that sometimes you have to sneak off to do things and can’t tell me anything, it would’ve been fine. I would prefer vague honesty over lying and using your friends as an excuse.”

“I never used them as an excuse,” Bodhi defends, though it’s a lie. There have been a few times in which he used Garrick or Imogen when they were certainly not with him.

“Where were you last Tuesday when we were supposed to meet?” You question, willing him to speak. Bodhi knows you remember, so there’s no point in trying to change his alibi.

“I was training after dinner with Imogen,” Bodhi recalls, staring into your eyes. He refused to not make eye contact with you, and indicator that he’s being untruthful. Even now, as you two argue, he can’t help but think how beautiful and breathtaking your eyes are. He’d do anything to be able to look into them for the rest of his life.

“Liar,” you call out, staring at him. “Imogen was with Quinn.”

Bodhi’s eyes widened, realizing you had fact checked him. He never thought you would go out of your way to see if he truly was with his friends, he never thought you were that type of person. It seems that you’ve proven him wrong.

“I didn’t go out of my way to make sure you were being truthful. Ask me why I didn’t do that.”

Bodhi gulps, and it isn’t a beat later until he speaks, “why didn’t you do that?”

“Because I trusted you,” you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. Your words slam into Bodhi, instantly noticing the past tense. You don’t trust him anymore. “It wasn’t until Quinn saw me upset today after you ditched me that she asked me what excuses you were using. And, well, imagine my surprise when she tells me that Imogen was with her that night. Not with you.” 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Bodhi steps forward, an attempt to gather you in his arms.

You step back, “don’t. I think it’s best if we stop seeing each other.”

“What?” Bodhi’s eyebrows furrow, his own eyes becoming glossy. “No, we can work this out, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s too late.” Your voice is jagged and void of any emotion, your mind already made up. “Please leave, Bodhi.”

“Y/N, please, let’s talk about this,” he pleads, stepping closer again.

“Leave,” you demand, your voice sharp. “Or I’ll scream so loud that Dain will come barreling into this room.” You were grateful you had a close friendship with your squad leader, especially when he made you his executive officer. Your rooms were right next to each other, surely he was hearing this conversation.

A tear falls from Bodhi’s eye before he sets his jaw, abiding by your wishes and leaving. The minute the door closes, you lock it with your lesser magic before crumbling. You collapse onto your bed, hugging your pillow as it muffles your cries until you fall into a deep sleep. 

You knew this was the best for you. But gods, did it fucking hurt. 

☾☼

[storiesfromafan]

Chaos - Draco x Reader

A/N: so I am finally posting a Draco one shot. Thank the lovely Sabrina Carpenter for this, as Taste inspired me 😂

I am feeling really inspired by both Sabrina and Taylor Swift. I have an idea for imgonnagetyouback for Mattheo, which will have a choose happy or f' you ending haha.

If anyone has any songs that could inspire me, or have you coming up with an idea, please share them and I'll give writing them a go 😊

Warning: use of the word shag, not really language but bitchiness. Mean spirit. Sass is real.

Slytherin's are known for being territorial. And if you so much as touch, speak to or glance to long at a Slytherin's partner, you better get out of Hogwarts asap. Or deal with the consequences. The worst  being the females. They are never to be trifled with, because those girls aren’t afraid to use their fangs. Either you will be physically dealt with, or your reputation would become null avoided. You will be the low of the low, a blimp on a social map. Moaning Myrtle will have more social standing then you.

But put female Slytherin vs female Slytherin, and it is pure chaos. And you like chaos. Live and breath to deliver it. Which brings us to current events. Draco and Pansy had broken up a few months ago. Of course being one to despise the annoying leach, that Pansy is, you were there for Draco. And in the process got to have your fun with him. Which in fact was fun for him too, as I quote ‘Pansy was always clingy and annoying. She barely did anything for me, I hardly wanted to touch her' end quote.

You obliged poor Draco. Sneaking off to snog in empty classrooms or halls. Light and heavy petting. Not to mention some interesting places to shag. He might not have been number one in that department – cough Mattheo Riddle cough – but Draco was top three. And you just know there were rumours flying around – maybe partially from your own mouth – and dear, dreary Pansy had to have heard about them. In fact you hoped she did. You welcome the chaos that will bring. She needed to be brought down a peg.

You woke up this morning, showered, done your hair and make up, like usual. And you chose today to drop the shit storm that you had been scheming. The day before Pansy had been a royal c you next Tuesday. The tipping point being making you fall from your broom, thankfully you hadn’t been too high off the ground. Prior to that it had been a lot of passive aggressive comments. So, you knew you had to finally give it to her.

Moving to your uniform on the bed, you smiled sweetly as you imagined how this was going to go down. One of your room mates called out you would be late for breakfast if you don’t hurry. Without missing a beat you up on the skirt and button up shirt, followed by your tie, socks and shoes. Choosing to for go your cardigan, you needed your choices to have full effect. With one last look at yourself, you grabbed your bag and headed to the Great Hall.

You noticed the looks you got from those in passing. And when you made it to breakfast, the looks you got only intensified. Yet no one said anything. Your room mates looked to you, then each other and then back to you. But remained quiet. They knew there was a reason for your uniform today. But decided to not ask questions, this way they wouldn’t be implemented in your scheme.

You knew people were whispering to each other, but never addressed you about it. Not even from your walk from the Great Hall to your first class; Transfiguration. By the time you arrived to class everyone was there except for a couple of late shows. You walked into the room, eyes looking to you as you walked closer to the front were Professor McGonagall stood.

The older woman cast a glance to you, eyes moving on till they flew back to you. She took a couple steps forward, gaze analysing you. The way her face went from blank to slight annoyance seemed to go noticed by you. But you were about to be addressed.

“Miss (L/N)” McGonagall began, making you look to the woman just before you took your seat, and all attention on you. “What in Devils are you wearing!? Where is your uniform!?”

You faked embarrassment. “I’m so sorry Professor. I was in a rush this morning and looked to have put on the wrong shirt". Such a lair you are. But it was part of your plan.

She tsked. “Not good enough Miss (L/N). After morning classes you best change into the correct shirt".

With that the Professor turned and went to the front of the room. By now all students were present. You took your seat, feeling curious eyes upon you. Along with the whispers around you at the elephant finally being addressed.

Transfiguration was lack lustre. McGonagall just rambling on, and the persistent whispers about you. Finally free, you exited the classroom with your room mates. Unfortunately, yet perfectly planned, just down the hall was your target: Pansy. She was with both Draco and Blaise. As you approached, about to pass, did she make her presence known.

Turning to her two companions, yet gaze on you, Pansy spoke rather loudly. “How scandalous to be wearing a males shirt. I wouldn’t dare advertise my escapades".

Perfect. She took the bait. You smiled, stopping to turn to the three. “What escapades would you have to advertise? From my knowledge you weren’t one for really that much".

The students who just happened to be around for the interaction snickered. Pansy's face flushing in embarrassment. Ah, how you felt some satisfaction. But wanted – needed more, hoping she would fire up. And you got your wish.

Turning to glare at you, hands on her hips. Pansy relied, “what I get up to is no ones business!”

“Hmmm" you mused. “Really? Again, I know first hand you don’t get up to much dear".

If smoke could have come out of ears, Pansy's would be going off. She sputtered with words before finally getting out, “well at least I don’t wear some random guy’s shirt!”

Ah, the magic words you had been hoping for. Leaning in, biggest grin on your face, you said; “oh it’s no random guy’s. I know exactly who's shirt this is...”

Pansy looked to you with baited breath. So you went on.

“Maybe you should check Draco's closet sometime. Either he’ll be missing a shirt, or he may have one of mine. I don’t know, I haven’t counted my shirts lately". Your tone was sickeningly sweet, like honey.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead. Pansy looked like she wanted blood. Draco stood behind her, having watched and heard it all, looking fearful of the two of you. For you see, it had been almost two weeks since they’d gotten back together. Though you didn’t believe for long.

“Why you-" Pansy began before you hushed her.

“Now, now Pansy" you slightly sang, leaning in so she could hear you. “Every time you close your eyes, and feel his lips, you’re feeling mine. And every time you breathe his air just know I was already there”.

Pansy watched you, taking in your words. It was simple truth you were spilling. And she hated it.

You stepped back, wicked smile on your lips. “You can have him if you like. I’ve been there, done that once or twice" you shrugged. “I know I’ve been known to share". Finally sealing it all with a cheeky wink.

With that you turned around and began to move on to your next class. Letting your words sink into the retched girl. And when you reached the end of the hall did you hear her shrill, angry cry. Ah, music to your ears. The sheer joy you felt right now. Knowing how you burst Pansy’s bubble was the perfect chaos for the day.

You know she would come for you. Physically or verbally. Either way, you were here for it. Ready to go to battle. Only downfall was poor Draco, being collateral damage. But you know he would get over it, or you’d let him get over you to make up for it.

Unbuttoning the collar button to Draco's shirt and loosening your tie, you kept making your way to class. A shit eating grin on your face, and pep in your step. Chaos really was one of your best past times.

[nickfurysrighteye]

Practise?

chase davenport x reader

summary: the school's gonna do a play and it's gonna be Romeo and Juliet. Chase was supposed to help with the behind the scenes but instead he gets to play Romeo, and you, Juliet, offer him some help with his lines..

cw: sfw, kissing, that's it i think

a/n: this is my first time writing for this fandom and also my first time making my writing public so please be kind :') ...i haven't written any type of fanfic in a veeeery long time. this is just for fun!!!

"Seriously?! I can't believe it!"

Janelle yells storming into the gym. Everybody stops what they're doing to look at her puzzled. This year Mission Creek High decided to organize a play and upon a great request it was decided to stage 'Romeo and Juliet'. Janelle volunteered to direct the entire planning of it.

"Our Romeo decided it was a great time to break his arm, therefore we don't have a Romeo anymore!" she says walking towards Leo, who's busy painting the fake wooden balcony. Leo decided to take part in the production only to have an excuse to be with Janelle, and doing so he dragged Chase along, just to have some company.

A few people gather around to see what was going on, you take your eyes off the script you were revising to look at your classmates on the opposite site of the room.

"So? What's the big deal?" says Leo "The understudy can take his place."

"The big deal is we don't have an understudy! We barely have enough people working on this play, do you really think we have extras?" Janelle is furious.

"Why don't we pick somebody from the crew?" you barge into the conversation, feeling the eyes of everyone onto you "I mean, it's not like we have time to redo auditions.."

Everybody is silent, eyes going left and right scanning the room for someone brave enough to take on one of the leading roles. You look behind Leo's shoulder "I bet Chase could do it."

Chase was surprised and slightly confused by your statement "Me? But I'm not an actor." he says, struggling to speak loud enough to be heard.

"Neither am I, and neither is everyone else..this is a high school play not Broadway, no of us are actors." you shrug while looking over to the brown haired boy.

Janelle looks over to him "Chase, do you think you could do it? You'd be a life saver, honestly." you could hear the tension in her voice from all the stress the planning brought her.

"I-i mean, sure I could give it a try" Chase tried so hard to sound confident in his choice but you could hear the slight tremor in his tone.

"Perfect, problem solved!" Janelle said.

Once everyone got back to work you get closer to Chase, "If you want we can practise the lines together, I could also give you some tips."

"Sure, I'd love that." Chase says with a sweet, soft smile. "Cool, you can stop by at my house today if that's ok." you smile back

"Yeah, sure, I'll see you later."

-

After school, the two brothers head to the lab and Chase is panicking, regretting the choice he made earlier that day. "Why would I agree to do something like this?! Why didn't you stop me Leo?! This is going to be a disaster! The play's gonna suck!" he spits out the words so quickly he can barely keep up with his thoughts.

"Chase chill out! You'll be fine, like Y/n said no one here's an actor, you're all gonna suck" Leo's already tired of his complaining.

Chase's worry isn't only his acting, but the fact he's gonna be the lead in a romantic play with you as his love interest. He's also terrified by the idea of having to kiss you multiple times on stage, in front of a ton of people. This is stressing him out way more than anticipated.

He already knew who you were long before taking part in this project. He saw you walk around the halls, he saw you sitting a couple of desks in front of him in some classes you have together. He always thought about you as the pretty girl he would only talk to in his imagination. Nobody could have predicted the two of you acting as lovers in a school play. Certainly not Chase.

-

With his heart beating out of his chest, Chase knocks on your front door. You open the door and invite him in. "We can go upstairs in my room" you say, guiding him upstairs.

You go through the script together, focusing on the more difficult parts to memorize. You're suprised Chase could memorize all these lines so quickly, and he's getting better at getting into character.

He says every line with the right feeling, you two work in harmony, it's like you're no longer acting as the characters but are living the story as yourselves.

"You're quite talented you know that Chase?" you smile

"Thanks, I'm actually a bit nervous if I'm being honest." he chuckes while lowering his eyes, looking at his fingers fidgeting with the corner of the script's page.

"How come? You're doing great." you tilt you're head slightly. You sit on your bed, taking a small break.

He shrugs, sitting down beside you "I don't know, I just am" he mumbles.

You stare at him with a soft gaze, you study his expression, you're lightly mesmerized by the way the light beam from the setting sun is hitting his face, shining through your window. His eyes now being a warmer hazel tone.

He can hear the beat of his heart in his ears "Actually, I'm scared 'cause --" he stops "I'm worried about our kiss."

"Our kiss?"

"Yeah, it scares me a little having to kiss in front of an audience."

"It's gonna be a quick kiss don't worry about it."

"I know, it's just that --" he looks down again "I've never done it before."

"You've never kissed anyone?" you say, the slight surprise in your voice makes him feel even worse now.

"It's fine Chase, I get it. There's no need to be ashamed of it." you try to reassure him. "Wanna practise?"

"The kiss?" he looks at you.

"Yeah, I mean, we probably should anyway since it's part of the play." you say, standing up and placing yourself in front of him like you would be on stage.

"Yeah, ok, that's..a good idea" he stands up as well. Chase tries to hide his uncertainty.

"You sure about this?" you ask, you don't want to pressure him.

"A hundred percent" he's anxious, he's rubbing subtly his hands on his jeans because they're starting to sweat, his knees get weaker and he hopes they'll be strong enough to support him.

"Ok now, just follow my lead." you take his hand, leaning nearer. Your other hand cupping his cheek, your lips are now inches apart. Your touch feels warm on his skin, making him breathe faster.

"Close your eyes." as he does so, your place your lips onto his gently, and start to slowly and softly kiss him.

A warm feeling of joy starts to bubble up in his chest as he copies your movements and picks up the pace. The kiss gets more intense, more impatient as he tastes your lips. You get closer and your hand that was on his cheek is now on the back of his neck, tangling your fingers with his hair. His hands start to move, although he's still unsure of what to do.

You stop for a brief moment. "It's ok if you wanna touch me, y'know." Chase laughs a little, he then places his hands on your sides, sliding them down to your waste. He grabs a little harder and pull you into another kiss, this time greedier, messier.

He didn't think it would feel this good kissing you, his heart is racing so fast you could probably hear it. Your lips are exploring eachother, you're both enjoying this much more than you should be. After a few moments Chase decides to wet your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, you part your lips a bit and he slips part of his tongue in. The feeling of your tongues tasting eachother sends shivers down your spine, you feel your cheeks getting warmer.

"You taste amazing" he blurs out the moment he stops to catch his breath, then he pulls you again into another kiss. His words make you melt.

Chase has lost track of time. Actually he has lost track of anything, he can only feel you. Your lips, your tongue, your taste, the sweet smell of your perfume and the warmth of your body standing so close to his. A few moments pass and you pull away to catch your breath, your faces still close to eachother.

"Was i good?" his question makes you chuckle.

"Yeah, you were. You know the kiss isn't supposed to last this long though, right?"

"Sorry i got a bit carried away." Chase laughs a little. You smile softly, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

"I don't think you're gonna have problems on stage, Chase"

"Although we should probably get back to revising the lines"

"We should, but after we're done we should go back to the kissing part, just to be sure"

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐇𝐦?

Lando Norris x reader

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Smut

Notes: This was really fun to write but something completely different from what I usually do and probs not as rough as the request maybe sounded but hope it's fine! Thank you for the request! Also I have cero knowledge about frat-life or anything like it but I tried! I literally had to google the term frat :) I'm on a Lando stint rn apparently, third fic in a row so I hope you all like Lando :D

Request: Could you do super cocky frat Lando? Y/N dosen't like him cuz of his attiude. But after lots & lots of flirting, she starts giving in to his charms (and hotness). He's a bit narcissistic, so when he knows she's in the palm of his hand, he has her undress him, asking her how much she likes his muscles, and then he has her get on her knees and kiss him through his underwear, and then he pushes his c*ock down her throat until she has tears in her eyes, and he's smirking and boasting non-stop. Ahhh!

The first time you laid eyes on him was in art class.

He had been sitting up front, dangling his feet in the air whilst playing with his pen on the tree-desk. Something you found so incredibly annoying as the thumping sound never seemed to stop.

His face held a cocky little smirk and despite his obvious good looks which you couldn't deny you disliked him from first sight.

His brown curls dripped into his eyes and his well shaped face eased into a grin as he talked with his friend. Fuck he was pretty.

As time went you saw him more and more often. It was like everywhere you were, he was. You learned his name was Lando, the same age as you and you also learned that your gut feeling had been completely right. Because Lando was not for the weak, he was cocky, bratty, straight forward and thought he was a celebrity along the halls. Arrogant was what he was.

For some reason though he had set his sights on you, why? You had no idea but at every party, every break, every art class, he was there. Trying to flirt his ways into your bed. Maybe it was just the fact that you weren't falling for your knees for him, maybe it was the need to get what he wanted or it was just pure arrogance, but he never gave up.

He was used to getting who he wanted and you couldn't judge, you guessed he was pretty attractive and also pretty charming when he tried but still. He was Lando, the arrogant, cocky guy who was known for sleeping around and getting his way. It was not qualities you were looking for in a man, not even one to only sleep with.

Lando was persistent though, you had to give him that and regardless of how much you hated to admit it he got under your skin. His sweet words of praise, compliments and small not so innocent touches made your heart stutter and heat crawling up your skin.

For every day that went the more you realized how fucking good he looked. His eyes and face so innocent in a way but still so not in other ways.

His body, fuck his body was perfect. Eyes not able to ignore the way his arms flexed or the times he was wearing that stupid t-shirt that made his abs show through the thin fabric. You hated him on those days.

This was one of those days and as every other day so far Lando threw himself down in the seat next to you. Eyes raking your tired outfit for the day.

"How are you beutiful"

"Hello Lando, I'm good thank you" you answered casually. It was weird how this had almost started to become like a routine now, you got used to his company.

"No how are you? Pft Y/n! I thought you were raised well!" Lando spoke teasingly, fingers softly tickling your waist as your eyes rolled. "My deepest apologies Lando, how are you my prince?" "Ohoo here we go, that's better. I'm good thank you very much my princess"

Your eyes rolled again but you couldn't help the heat you felt spreading up your face as a giggle left your lips. Fuck.

"Are you gonna come to the party at friday?" he asked then, looking you straight into the eyes telling you this was an honest question. "Yeah I think so, why?"

"No no, no reason just wanted to ask so I know where to have my focus"

"Oh how charming you are" you huffed but Lando only shrugged "You know I'm popular baby" he spoke teasingly, smirking as you turned your focus away from him.

"You are so pretty baby" he hummed, the line making you grumble to him but you couldn't helpt but to feel the pet-name stirring something deep within you.

You didn't want him to affect you the way he did, you loathed him. Had always done. The way he snapped his fingers and got the things he wanted. The way he acted around, like he was the king of the world and everyone had to adjust and accept his ways. You loathed him, you told yourself, repeating all the reasons over and over to not forget them.

"Sure Lando" you murmured, gently pushing him away from you with an eyeroll. He only sniggered, that smirk that made your skin prickle making it's way onto his face.

"Is that so darling?" he chuckled, placing a hot hand on your hip. By the looks of it to walk past you but you knew it was only another way for him to show his dominance to you, show how much he actually affeccted you despite your tries to hide it.

"How long are you going to deny it hm?" he said lowly, his head bowing to reach your ear-level and it only made him grow cockier, feel more dominance.

"Deny what exactly? That you are a jerk? A jackass?"

Lando chuckled, finding your words more amusing than hurtful as he found your eyes. The colour in them shining with delight and competition.

"Deny that you somewhat find me attractive" he said lowly, watching your eyes blink shut, trying to shut out the hot feeling developing in your core. "I will stop denying it when you stop being such a jerk" you countered, a smirk making it's way to your lips as well as you felt the confidence surge back to you.

At that you left him, blinking sweetly at him before rounding him with an hot hand on his shoulder.

-

It wasn't even an hour until he was next to you again, his hand snaking it's way to your waist as he leaned in to talk directly in your ear. Something that made you all hot and bothered, it had no right to be so hot.

"Why are you acting so hard to get baby? I know you think i'm attractive"

"Attractive sure but I still find you a jackass"

"Hmm I don't think so sweetie"

"You think you know what I want better than I know myself?" you spoke softly looking at him with an innocent flutter of your eyes.

"I know you want me baby, you can't hide how flustered you get when I call you baby or how your eyes grow all wide when I say something dirty to you"

When you said nothing he continued talking again. Voice an octavle lower than before, his breath fanning the side of your face making it even hotter.

"I can't stop thinking about you baby, I don't know why but I can't. I want you, so bad"

Cheesy, the line was cheesy but you still felt the words make you crumble. Slowly but surely giving into him, because afterall, he was so hot.

Lando saw it to, the grin on his face only getting bigger as he continued, knowing that you would soon be eating out of his palm, just like he wanted but at this stage you didn't care. The man was a fucking flirt and he could flirt his ways into people's bed, yours included.

"Yeah? You like this baby, don't you? Picture your cute little mouth stretched around my cock, your sweet sounds as I make you feel good after I've come down your throat"

You felt heat pour into your stomach, all the way through your veins, building up slowly but steadily until it was all-consuming.

Fuck he was good

"You like that hm? I'm gonna have you so lost for me baby, sucking my cock like the good girl you are. Gonna have you undress me and ask for it, would you do that for me?"

You could practically feel the shit eating grin on his lips as you let out a small huff, dangerously close to a moan as you grumbled on your breath.

"Fuck Lando, how are you so good at this? Have you practiced this before?"

Lando laughed at that, his hand on your waist squeezing slightly harder as he hummed. "No, you are my motivation" "Oh gosh that's so cheesy but it still makes me fucking wet" you groaned in his ear, the words making him hum.

"Bet you taste fucking amazing" he mumbled and that was it, you crumbled.

"You gonna do as I say hm?"

You swallowed thickly, he knew all to well how he made you feel, feeding of of it but you couldn't deny it either, couldn't deny him. So you nodded, giving in to your pride for this moment and giving him the power he knew he had over you.

"What was that? Need your words baby"

"Yes" you almost whispered out, his smile big and cocky regardless.

"Yeah? Then undress me sweetie"

It took a moment for you to register his words but when you did you immideately reached for his shoulders. You gently squeezed his shoulders before letting your hands trail down his chest to the zipper of his hoodie.

"Come on baby, get on with it" he smirked, voice rougher than usual as his eyes pinned you down, gleaming with cockiness and victory.

You gently pulled his sweater off before letting your hands run under his white t-shirt. Feeling his muscles tense under your palms as you pulled it over his head.

He was so stunning you couldn't stop staring at him. Everything was just.. yum.

You stood infront of him, eyes fleeting over his toned torso, only feeding his ego and smirk.

"You like what you see hm?" he teased, gently grabbing your hands to settle on his muscular arms. Saliva gathered up in your mouth, swallowing thickly you let your hands slide down his arms and then up again. Your hands moved on instinct, coming up to his shoulders before sliding down his stomach.

"Tell me how much you like them huh? Tell me how much you like my muscles"

"So much, look so good Lan" you hummed, not being able to resist to let your hands wander over his body once more before settling them on his waistband.

"Go on, take them off" he nodded, watching you as your shaky fingers unbottoned the button of his jeans before helping him out of them.

Lando looked at you for a moment, seeming to think over his next move.

"Get on your knees baby"

You fell to your knees before you could even think it through properly, why? You couldn't answer that but all you knew was that for Lando, you wanted to do whatever he said, wanted to please him and his desires.

"Good, come on baby, kiss it" he prompted you, strong hands finding the back of your head and gently nudging your face to his boxer clad cock, straining hard inside the fabric.

You did what he asked, gently leaning forward to kiss him over the material. Your lips softly touching over the visable print of his hard dick, looking up at the Brit's face which looked taken over with lust and cockiness

"Look at you baby, doing everything I ask hm?"

"So gone for me already pretty girl?"

You could only hum, kissing up and down his dick once more before he hooked his fingers under the band, pulling his boxers down swiftly.

"Gonna let me fuck your little mouth princess?" You could no longer find your words, nodding desperately. All the various nicknames making you feel all dizzy and wetter then ever.

You leaned in kissing his dick again but this time without the fabric in the way, basking in the sound he let out before his hands tangled in your hair, not letting you ease into it at all but coaxing your mouth open with one hand before pressing his cock into your open mouth.

You did your best to stop your gagging, breathing through your nose as he set a brutal pace.

"You like that huh?" he smirked at you, not bothering letting you answer, looking into your eyes was answer enough. "Like having my cock down your throat hm?"

"Fuck y/n, taking it so good" he groaned, eyes never leaving yours, loving the way they were tearing up.

You tried your best to keep your mouth open without choking on his dick, marveling in the sounds he let slip past his throat but it was a struggle when he kept his relentless pace up, not letting you paus unless you tapped out.

You blinked through the tears trying to focus on your breathing but it became too hard, instinctively you tried to pull your head back but his grip was strong, keeping you seated until you tapped his thigh, depserate for some air.

He let you up immideately, watching you closely as you panted hard, trying to get your lungs filled with air, calming down your breathing slowly

"You okay baby?" he asked softly, his hand gently rubbing your cheek as you nodded "Yes yes, sorrry"

He shook his head firmly "don't apologise", at that you hummed, locking eyes with him, feeling your insides melt as his sweet eyes looked at you with such care and lust.

When you felt fine you leant forward again, licking a bold stripe from the base up to the tip, letting your tongue lap up the small droplets of pre-cum before opening your mouth, inviting him in once again.

"Fuck, look at you baby" he groaned "Like being used like this hm?"

You couldn't asnwer coherently, just gagged on his cock in response but he seemed to like it enough by the long groan he let out. His head had tipped back and his arms flexed as he held your head steadily.

"Fuck Y/n"

You tried to be at your best behaviour, Lando pulling that out of you. Swallowing around his dick, breathing through your nose and letting him use your mouth. Focusing on the salty taste on your tongue and the proper fucked out look on his face. Arms flexing, face twisting and abs clenching as he got closer and closer to his release.

Fuck he was a sight.

You felt his hips stutter as he fucked into your mouth a few more times before letting your head up.

You looked up at him softly, eyes swam over with tears and saliva dripping down your chin, gasping a few moutfull's of air before you sank down on his dick again, feling his dick twitch in your throat. Apparently he liked your fucked out look.

You had never ever enjoyed giving head as much as you did now, watching his mouth hang open and thighs shaking slightly. His hands came back to the back of your head, holding you deep as he came with a long groan.

He fucked up a few more times grunting words you couldn't understand, voice holding a tinge of despearation as he emptied all he had in your open mouth.

His eyes that had drooped closed open slowly watching your lips as he pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop.

Eyes almost hazing over as you swallowed, licking your lips as you blinked up innocently at him, he was just as effected by you as you were by him.

A wry smile made it's way up your face at the realization, looking at his fucked out face before speaking up in a sweet soft voice that made his softening cock want to harden again.

"As good as you imagined then baby?"

[hollowdeath]

I just wanna start with saying I think you’re an incredible writer. I found your work recently and can’t stop reading. The way you craft y/n and your storyline, ✨ CHEF’S KISS ✨ absolutely MAGNIFICENT. so that’s first lol before anything else.

I did have a request, if it’s up to your liking!!!! I was thinking of:

(After war)

All throughout their years at Hogwarts (as kind of a golden “quartet”) there was always that would they wouldn’t they vibe between Harry and y/n. They cared a little too much about each other, looked a little too long, got a little too cranky and involved when they dated others. They had quite the falling out after Harry and Ginny got more serious and y/n admitted her feelings and Harry said too late. Fast fwd, Harry and Ginny have since broken up and it’s Ron and Hermione’s wedding. Maybe somehow they get stuck together at the venue or cottage that was rented, somehow stuck before the wedding for hours, stuff goes down, whatever you think, feelings, sexy time, Harry shows her what she’s missed and they finally give in. So much angst, and dirtiness, and yeah 🤷🏽‍♀️ that’s all I got 😂

thank you so much for your request! this was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry were each other's childhood crushes, but things never quite worked out between you two. years later ron & hermione devise a plan to get you to make up just before their wedding.

c/w: alcohol, angst, smut!!!! (penetrative sex)

word count: 7.9k

you had been incredibly overjoyed to open the letter left at your door and see it was an invitation to ron and hermione's wedding. the moving portrait of them holding each other and laughing on the front of the invite made you smile, their faces slightly wrinkled from time. it had been nearly 5 years since you'd last seen them. of course you always meant to keep in contact with everyone after leaving, but it didn't quite work out that way. you had spoken to ron a few times here and there and kept in pretty regular contact with hermione over the years, but you knew it was never going to be the same. not just because of time, but hurt feelings as well.

see, it wasn't just you, ron, and hermione back in school. in fact, people mostly only knew of your group because of one person in particular: harry potter.

harry and ron had been sitting in their train car on the way to hogwarts when you and hermione stopped to introduce yourselves. you felt a special connection to harry right away, experiencing butterflies in your stomach for the first time when you shook his hand and told him your name. of course you'd heard of harry potter before, no young witch or wizard at the time hadn't. but you didn't let that cloud your friendship with him, a friendship that continued to grow for years.

you and harry hit it off well. everyone in the friend group got along great, but there was always something different about you and harry. unlike ron and hermione who gradually grew into their romance over the years, you and harry had romantic tension right away. even just that first day on the train, neither of you could stop blushing or stealing sneaky glances at one another the entire ride to hogwarts.

throughout your first and second years, the four of you grew incredibly close as you found yourselves on wild and often dangerous adventures together. by your third year, things became a little more complicated as crushes, dating, and relationships became the topic of interest within the walls of hogwarts. who was dating who, who liked who, or who could put a love spell on who the quickest.

it was no secret that you and harry liked each other. at least to everyone else. you always laughed a bit harder at harry's jokes, harry's eyes always seemed to linger on you a bit longer than normal, and, after a while, you were both clearly envious of any attention given to someone else even in the littlest way.

it all started with a boy from your transfigurations class who set his sights on you towards the end of year three. you weren't interested, of course, your sights had always been set on harry, but that didn't stop the boy from doing everything he could to try and insert himself between you two.

harry caught on right away, and was completely annoyed at the situation. he'd roll his eyes any time the kid was around, made snappy remarks when he tried to speak to him, and often outright ignored him completely. you'd noticed a change in harry's attitude, but didn't have long to process what it meant before he began talking to a girl from his defense against the dark arts class.

harry began bringing her around more and more, which, in turn, made you fume. you'd always assumed you had an unspoken understanding with harry that you both liked each other, but apparently you had been proven wrong. you played off your jealousy well for a while, but it wasn't easy to hide how upsetting the entire ordeal was for you.

this cycle would continue with harry into your fourth year once he started to grow closer to cho chang. as a sort of retaliation, you began dating your first official boyfriend not long after you learned harry was taking cho to the yule ball. harry didn't react well to this at all, nearly turning the kid into a hairless rat before ron could calm him down. 

though your friendship with harry would remain civil throughout this time, it was clear you were both only "dating" people as a way to get each other's attention. between the vengeful flings were constant flirtatious moments, playful teasing, and lingering touches that left no mystery to everyone around you.

however, things were different once ginny got involved. at first you assumed it was just another way for harry to make you jealous, a close hit to home that would only last as long as the others did before inevitably fizzling out. however, the longer it went on, the more worried you became. no 'girlfriend' of harry's had lasted more than a few weeks, let alone entire months that went by without any sign of slowing down.

it had gone past the point of being able to bring a guy around to grab harry's attention, in fact he only seemed increasingly unbothered each time. you finally came to ron and hermione nearly in tears as you confessed your feelings towards harry to them, to no surprise on their part, and begged for guidance on how to navigate the situation without disrespecting ron or his sister in the process.

ron sighed, meeting eyes with hermione before leveling with you. "look, [y/n]," he had said. "i love ginny more than anything in the world, and i would never do anything to ruin her happiness. but," he sighed again. "i've known how you felt for a long time now, and i would be an idiot to keep you from being honest with harry."

hermione had given you a hug, holding you tightly as she told you, "you deserve to be happy."

you found yourself having a moment alone with harry later that same week where you could finally get your feelings off your chest. you'd pulled him to the side and nervously attempted to explain yourself to him as he gave you an amused look.

"look, harry, i'm just going to come out with it and tell you something i should've told you a long time ago," you'd said, your voice shaking. you had to look away from his eyes in order to get the words out. "i-i like you, okay? i like you, a lot, and i know you're dating ginny now a-and that's great and all, but…" you'd gotten choked up as a flood of emotions washed over you.

"please, harry, just…please, i can't watch this any more, it's killing me," you spit out, turning away from him and crossing your arms as you bury your face in your shoulder. "i love you." you'd said quietly.

harry no longer looked amused as he crossed his arms as well, his expression tightening. "what exactly do you want me to do, [y/n]?" he'd asked curtly, his voice cold. you looked at him, confused, studying his body language as your eyebrows furrowed together. "i…" you stuttered.

"what, you think now because you're ready for me i should just break up with ginny?" he asked, seeming slightly annoyed. you gave him a look before uncrossing your arms. "no, i don't think that, actually." you told him coldly.

"then what the hell do you want from me, [y/n]? i spent 5 bloody years pining after you while you treated me like a brother. now that i'm finally finding happiness in someone who actually wants me you want to tell me this? well, you're too late," harry ranted at you, his hands frustratedly raised as his expression got angrier.

you were speechless, your mouth slightly hung open at his confession of attraction while he stepped around you. before he could leave, you turned to harry one last time with tears in your eyes. "you blithering idiot, i've liked you since the moment we met that day on the train!" you exclaimed at him, your voice full of pain. harry looked at you, his eyes widening as you came closer to him, your finger digging into his chest.

"it's because of your ignorance that this is happening. all i wanted was to be honest with you." you spat before taking your hand away, the tears falling down your cheeks. "but i hope you're happy, harry, i really do." you told him between gasps before turning and leaving him behind you.

it had been years since that fight, and you hadn't spoken with harry since. while you always tried to remain close with hermione and ron, your last few years at hogwarts were mostly spent alone, much like how they'd been since. you were conflicted, holding that invite in your hands, reading the details over and over again to yourself as you weighed your options. it was undoubted you would see harry again, your first time in person since leaving hogwarts, and you weren't sure if you could handle the confrontation.

but after a few days of thinking, you decided your friendship with ron and hermione had always meant more to you than your silly crush on harry did.

while making your reservation over the phone, the voice on the other line informed you that ron and hermione had specially reserved a cottage for you near the venue the day before the wedding in case you accepted the invite. you were floored at the news, nearly speechless as you thanked the operator for telling you with the call abruptly ending at the promise of a ride service the day of your stay.

and, without fail, there was a car waiting for you outside of your house the evening before the wedding ready to take you to your cottage.

what you hadn't planned on was the overwhelming snowfall that started halfway through your trip and only got worse the closer you got to your destination. by the time you were pulling your luggage out of the trunk, the snow was nearly up to your knees.

despite your worries about the weather, you were thrilled with the beautiful cabin ron and hermione had reserved for you. it had a warm fireplace, a fully stocked fridge, plenty of blankets, and a projector set up to play movies. you were just getting settled in when you heard the distinct sound of a car door outside. you froze, your heart thumping in your chest as you heard muffled voices and footsteps up to the unlocked door.

before you could move, the door opens to reveal a snow covered harry.

you were in shock watching him come through the door without so much as noticing you only a few feet away. it wasn't until he closed the door and took off his beanie that he finally locked eyes with you, jumping at your sudden presence.

"[y/n]?" he exclaimed. "what…what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice full of shock.

you blinked at him, trying to figure out how, of all people, harry potter had to be the one to show up at your door at this moment. "i could ask you the same," you deadpanned.

harry cracks a small smile, shaking off his coat and hanging it up beside the front door. "haven't changed a bit, have you?" he asks with a smirk.

"don't joke with me, potter. what the hell are you doing here? ron and hermione reserved this cabin for me only," you narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms as you took a few steps in his direction.

harry scoffed, shaking the remaining thick snowflakes out of his hair. it was longer than you'd seen him keep it before, and began to curl at the ends around his face. "well, they must've given you the wrong address, then. because this is my cabin." he told you simply.

you scoffed in return. "don't be ridiculous, they had a driver bring me here and everything. if anyone's in the wrong here it's you."

harry paused, turning his head to you slowly. "they got you a driver too?" he asked curiously. you gave him a confused look. "yes?" you said suspiciously.

harry sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "damn it," he cursed under his breath. "what?" you demanded to know, taking another step towards him as your eyes continued to study his face.

harry turned to the dining table as well as you, your eyes falling on a welcome basket you hadn't noticed before. as harry walks towards it, you see him grab for an envelope addressed to 'harry & [y/n]' in hermione's familiar script.

harry opens it, sighing as he reads the letter aloud. "dear harry and [y/n], enjoy your snowed-in stay together at the cottage until sunday, the actual date of our reception. can't wait to see you there, love you both, ron and hermione. p.s., don't be too mad at us!"

you're dumbfounded watching harry place the note back into the basket, his head falling forward. after a moment he shrugs, pulling the basket closer to him and opening one of the prepackaged candies.

"you can't be serious. i'm not doing this, i'm not staying with you in this cottage all weekend," you say with disgust as you walk towards a phone table near the couch. harry turns, stuffing his face with the candy and chuckling to himself watching you attempt to dial a number. "good luck getting a cab in this weather," you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

you turn to the window and your mouth falls open at the sheer amount of snow that's fallen since you've arrived at the cottage. the bottoms of the windows are just barely covered with more piling on top quickly.

you frustratedly groan and slam the phone down, wracking your brain for a new solution to your predicament. you had to find a way out of here, there was no possible way you could handle another moment around harry like this, let alone an entire weekend.

just as you're about to start pacing, harry chimes in again. "look, it won't be so bad, alright?" he tries to console you, unwrapping yet another treat from the basket.

you narrow your eyes at harry again, feeling your blood boil at how much this situation isn't affecting him. granted, you weren't aware seeing him would have this much of an affect on you, but you were still hurt by everything that happened between you in the past. how else were you supposed to feel being confronted with your first love nearly 5 years after having your heart broken by him?

"easy for you to say, i'm sure this is nothing but a laugh for you." you snap at him once more, walking back towards the bedroom door. harry scoffs yet again. "what, you think i find this fun?" he laughs.

you turn to him, studying his expression with him doing the same to you. "you think i asked ron and hermione to put me in the same cabin as my ex-best-friend?" he asks sarcastically.

you wince at the title he's given you, turning your back to him once more as you enter the bedroom not far from him. "don't call me that. and no, i don't think you knew about this. but you were always good at assuming things about me, weren't you?" you asked sarcastically in return, angrily packing your clothes back into your luggage from their place on the bed.

harry takes a step into the room before pausing, his eyes landing on your half-folded clothes being angrily stuffed into the case. he looked up at you, his posture softening as he takes a smaller step towards you. "what are you doing?" he asks quietly.

you roll your eyes at his question. "what's it look like?" you ask him.

harry sighs, putting out a hand to stop you from continuing. "you don't have to leave, alright? if you really don't want me here i'll figure out a way home. i just thought it'd be nice to catch up again, y'know, like old times. i'm sure that's why ron and hermione put us here in the first place." harry reasons with you, your eyes connecting with his. you can smell him he's so close to you, his hand just barely hovering over yours.

your eyes search harry's, your stomach dropping at the familiarity of his gaze on you. you almost feel like a kid again, crushing on your best friend, the most amazing wizard hogwarts had ever seen, the sweetest boy you'd ever met with the prettiest eyes in the world.

you finally blink and look away, putting the clothes you were holding onto the bed again. you knew harry had a point. ron and hermione wouldn't house you together 2 days before the actual wedding just to mess with you. you knew in the past they wanted you to reconcile with harry, even if it was just to keep the peace, but you always refused their offers with tears stinging your eyes. you just weren't ready to open that chapter of your life again; though now, it seemed, you had no other choice.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing mind. "you're probably right," you say quietly, harry's arm dropping back to his side.

you turn to look at him again, taking a step back to put some room between you. "im sorry." you say simply. "you don't have to leave if you don't want to. though you should probably call ginny to let her know what's going on."

harry involuntarily laughs, his eyes crinkling as he tries to cover it with a cough. "uh, sorry?" he asked you incredulously. your brows pinch together in confusion. "uh, ginny? i'm sure you're well married by now, yeah? possibly even a kiddo or two?" you try to say lightheartedly, but your voice falters.

harry lets out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head at you as he heads towards the bedroom door. "right, yeah, think i'm good on that front," harry says between laughs, his hand resting on his chest.

you look after him confused, but decide to let it go as you unpack your clothes yet again. just as you're finishing up you hear the stove turn on, making your stomach growl. you didn't realize how hungry you'd gotten, but it was nearing nightfall and you hadn't even had breakfast today.

you walk into the kitchen to the smell of pancakes and the sight of harry cutting up strawberries. he looks over at you with a smile. "want some? i was starved," he offers. you hesitantly accept his offer, taking a seat at the dining table and grabbing the note from ron and hermione to read it over yourself.

harry noticed this and chuckled, plating up the first few pancakes off the frying pan. "pretty clever trick, if you ask me. i think it was all ron's idea."

you scoff at this, rolling your eyes as you study the letter. "oh please, you think ron would go through the trouble of sending us wrong invites just to get us in the same room together? this has hermione written all over it," you explain, setting the envelope back in the basket.

harry chuckles again, setting the plate of pancakes in front of you covered in syrup and strawberry slices. "you're probably right," he says warmly, heading back to the stove.

you have to admit, harry's pancakes were otherworldly. you had to hold yourself back from complimenting him too much as to not give him an ego. however you finished your plate before harry could even sit next to you with his, which made him smirk as he started digging in himself.

just as you finish washing off your plate, harry comes up beside you with his own. "you know, i figured, since there's only one bed, you should maybe have it for the night." he offers, washing his plate clean.

you turn to him, studying his face as he keeps his eyes on his hands. the offer was completely generous, and not something you expected from harry.

"oh, um, thank you, that's really kind of you. i don't mind sleeping on the couch, you know." you counter.

harry nods his head, turning off the sink and smiling over at you. "i know," he said. "neither do i."

you crack a small smile at him, the first one you've given him so far, and look away as you place the dried plate back in the cupboard. harry does the same and closes it for you.

you help harry get settled into the living room, laying out blankets for him on the couch as he fiddles with the projector and gets an old movie started for himself. you're about to say something to him when you turn and watch harry pull his shirt off and throw it in his suitcase. as he's pulling out his pajamas, you quickly divert your eyes before they can wander further down his torso.

you're still blushing by the time harry turns the lights off, smiling at the projected movie on the wall. "this is nice, you're welcome to sit and watch if you'd like." harry offers, turning to you. you shake your head, giving him a tight smile. "i'm just about to head to bed, actually."

harry nods, his smile slightly falling. "that's alright," he says.

you exchange an awkward goodnight with harry before closing your bedroom door, immediately letting your head fall into your hands in frustration. you were completely overwhelmed with everything going on you couldn't even begin to process what was happening. exhausted and confused, you got dressed for bed and settled into the sheets thinking about how close harry was to you after years of thinking you'd never see him again. the thought made your stomach tighten and your heart race.

you didn't leave your room until early the next afternoon, wasting time in the shower as you tried to prolong being away from harry and all the feelings that came with him. eventually you became too hungry and bored to sustain yourself much longer and finally entered the living room.

all of harry's blankets were folded back up and put away, with no sign of him sleeping on the couch left. you noticed him in the kitchen again, the smell of garlic and onions overwhelming your senses the closer you got.

harry noticed you and gave you a warm smile, eagerly grabbing for a bowl. "morning, sleepy head." he teases, offering you a bowl of pasta. "or should i say afternoon?"

you roll your eyes at him, but thank him for the food nonetheless. you take your first bite and can't help but moan at the flavor. harry turns to you with red cheeks.

"did ginny teach you how to cook or something?" you asked him, immediately going back for another bite as you lean against the counter beside him. harry just laughs and shakes his head at you again. "did ron and hermione really not tell you about anything after hogwarts?" he asked with an amused voice.

you give him a look, pausing from the food to answer his question. "well, to be fair, anytime we spoke i asked they not mention you at all…" 

harry laughs at this, eating the rest of the pasta right out of the pot. "im flattered," he says sarcastically.

you nudge him with your elbow, holding back a chuckle of your own. "whatever. but tell me, what should i know?"

harry leans back against the counter as well, his eyes falling to the ground. "me and ginny, we broke up not long after the war." he tells you, his voice solemn as crosses his arms.

you set down your bowl, reaching for a napkin to wipe your mouth. "harry, i'm sorry. i had no idea," you apologize, turning to look at him fully. you feel guilty for bringing her up, but truly had no idea they'd ever separated. you assumed this whole time they were living some dream life off together in the countryside while you stayed in your hometown and wished things were different.

harry just shook his head and laughed, his eyes connecting with yours. "don't be. you didn't know. besides, it ended well. a bit awkward at the weasley christmases, but, y'know," he trails off. you giggle, but try to hide it from him. harry just laughs with you, his cheeks red.

"but, um, what about you? if i may ask," harry inquires.

you timidly lean back on the counter next to harry again, crossing your arms like him as well. "well, to be quite honest, i haven't done much since leaving hogwarts. i've got a place of my own if that means anything," you say with a hollow chuckle.

"better than me, i'd say. i'm still at grimmauld." harry reasons with you, returning the same fake laugh.

"oh hardly, at least you've stayed close with ron and hermione. i think this is the most i've spoken to someone outside of my job in years." you tell him, dropping your gaze to your feet at the realization.

harry just hums in response, his gaze on the floor as well.

you sit in a somewhat comfortable silence for a moment before harry starts cleaning up the kitchen around you.

"you know, if you don't mind me saying, i've really missed you over these last few years. i know it's not ideal to meet again this way, but…i'm glad it happened." harry tells you as he puts away the dishes.

you feel your heart flutter at his words, and have to hold back a smile from taking over your face. he looks at you with a shy expression before beginning to wipe down the table.

"well, thank you, harry. i've missed you as well, i suppose." you say with a smirk.

harry just rolls his eyes playfully before returning to the sink to continue doing dishes.

you head to the living room and decide to put on a movie seeing as you're still completely snowed in. you re-light the fireplace as well and close the curtains to settle into the couch for the afternoon.

harry eventually joins you, offering a soft blanket as he takes the other side of the couch. you're not paying much mind to the movie as you mostly think about everything harry's told you far. you're not sure what to think, but knowing ginny is out of the picture now makes you feel all those same feelings from your school days while stealing glances at harry.

after a while harry uses the bathroom, and returns with the bottle of wine from the welcome basket. "might as well, yeah?" he shrugs, offering you the bottle to open. you smile and take it from him, setting the bottle on the table as he grabs a few glasses from the kitchen. you struggle with the cork a bit before harry offers to do it for you, pulling out the cork in one swift motion. you try your best not to notice the prominent veins in his arms but fail to look away before he's pouring your glass for you.

your first glass is finished while silently watching the movie, trying to pay attention to the plot with a racing mind focused on harry only a few feet away from you. as he pours his second glass he fills yours as well, mockingly cheering to you before taking a swig.

"y'know, [y/n], i'm real sorry for the way things ended between us. and i'm not just saying that, i mean, i really am sorry." harry confesses before taking another sip of his wine.

your heart's already racing, finishing your glass just to get the courage to respond to him. "it's okay, harry. really. we were both not very good to each other near the end there." you recall, a blush blooming across your face.

harry smiles, finishing his glass as well and reaching for the bottle. "well, still, i shouldn't have acted that way." he says, taking a swig straight from the bottle before leaning back into the couch.

you smirk and set your glass down as well, reaching for the bottle yourself. harry hands it to you and watches you take a sip before lying back as well.

"i probably should've told you i liked you sooner anyway. don't really know what i was waiting for, i guess," you say before downing another drink. harry shakes his head, motioning for you to hand him the bottle. "probably waiting for me, yeah?" he asks as he grabs the neck of the bottle.

you smile a bit. "maybe," you say softly, leaning against the back of the couch. you feel the effects of the alcohol start to wash over you as your body loosens, the anxiety melting away with every sip.

harry just sighs again before drinking. he wipes his mouth with his hand before fixing his glasses. "well, i should've known. i mean, you weren't actually into that hufflepuff quidditch captain, were you? please tell me that was just a ploy to get my attention?" he asks with a chuckle, handing you the bottle back.

you laugh, taking the wine and drinking more of it. "he was nice," you feigned innocence, feeling the intoxication settle in. harry rolls his eyes and grabs the bottle again. "yeah, right. all he wanted was a shag and you know it." he says, his tone slightly bitter and words beginning to slur.

you smirk at him. "well, at least someone wanted to shag me." you tease harry, reaching for the bottle again before he can even take his turn to drink. harry pulls away and shakes his head, making you scoff. "yeah, okay, [y/n]. whatever you say." he concludes before taking the last sip of the wine.

you whine when he hands you the empty bottle, setting it down on the table in defeat. "what, were you jealous or something?" you asked harry without thinking, feeling your face and chest heating up.

harry takes a moment to respond, clearly at a loss for words. "uh, well, i was just looking out for you, like i always did." he stumbles, leaning into the back of the couch with you.

he doesn't sound convincing, but you just attribute it to the alcohol and move on.

"and what about you? you mean to tell me you actually liked that slytherin chatterbox without a brain to match?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. "or was that just for me?" you ask with a laugh.

harry didn't respond, instead only returning his attention to the movie. "that's what i thought," you say triumphantly, turning to watch the movie as well.

after a moment, harry softly says, "everything was for you."

you turn to look at him, but he remains focused on the movie. "what?" you ask curiously.

harry finally turns to look at you. "everything, it was all for you, [y/n]. not just the girls, all of it. when there was nothing left to fight for, there was always you. even when you were gone." harry says in a somber voice, his eyes exploring yours.

you're not sure what to say, mostly because you're lost in the moment as your blushing cheeks only get worse the longer harry watches you.

"it was always you, [y/n]. why do you think ginny and i didn't last? because she knew." harry asks, leaning closer to you.

you back away slightly, your eyes diverting from harry's. "harry, please. this is just the alcohol talking."

harry shakes his head and gently places his hands on your cheeks, turning you to look at him again. "no, [y/n], it's not. can't you see? you were all i wanted. i was stupid, and i lost you forever. i've wanted to tell you this since the moment i saw you yesterday." he confesses, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your cheekbone down to your jaw.

"so beautiful, just like i remember," harry says softly, leaning into you once more. this time you don't back away, your stomach full of knots at the feeling of being held in harry's hands so tenderly. his face is only inches from yours before asking, "please, can i kiss you?"

maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the crackling fireplace, or maybe it was the lingering feelings of love and adoration from your childhood crush years past, whatever it may be, something pushed you to kiss that boy before he could even realize what was going on.

sloppy, messy, eager making out from both sides as you desperately grab hold of each other for dear life just feels so right. it's not long before harry has you on your back, his body weighing on top of you as the smell of the wine comes off his breath.

"harry," you manage to say between his lingering kisses. "swear this isn't just the wine? if it is, i don't care, i just want you," you try to ask again breathlessly.

harry's hand tangles in your hair, holding your face to his as you let out an involuntary whine. "this is all i've wanted my whole life." he says simply, his lips softly finding yours once more to leave a passionate, loving kiss. when he pulls away, he looks down at you with lustful eyes. "is this what you want?" he asks.

you shake your head eagerly. "all i've wanted." you repeat after him. harry smiles before connecting his lips with yours once more.

after making out for a while longer with harry on top of you, he eventually lifts you up to carry you to the bedroom. you laugh and try to squirm out of his arms. "i can walk myself, y'know. i'm not that tipsy," you tell him.

harry just hums at you and throws you onto the messy sheets, quickly removing his shirt before returning on top of you. biting your lip, you reach for harry's shoulders and feel his skin raise with goosebumps immediately.

"you're so pretty," harry mumbles to himself before kissing you again. his tongue slips between your lips and you gasp at the sensation. he takes advantage and leans further into the kiss, his hand finding your hair once more to keep you in place.

you whine against his lips at the pain, but don't want him to be any gentler. all you've wanted for so long was to feel like harry wanted you, needed you, and you weren't about to have him hold back from showing you exactly what you've been wanting.

"so, so, so pretty," harry says between kisses along your jaw and neck down to your chest. you go to pull off your shirt as well, but harry stops you by holding your hands down. "and so eager, too," he teases you with a smirk.

your face goes red, squirming under his gaze. you try to wriggle from his grasp but it only tightens. "patience, pretty girl," he tells you.

after nodding in agreement, harry lets go of your hands and slowly raises your shirt until it's just below your chest. he leaves kisses along your stomach, causing your body to shudder in anticipation.

harry lifts your shirt over your boobs and admires you for just a moment before removing your shirt completely. his lips meet yours again with hunger, his hands gently massaging the soft skin of your tits.

you moan into the kiss, arching your back further into harry for more. he smirks at your eagerness again, but continues to kiss you messily.

once he starts pulling and tugging at your nipples, you become a mess in his hands. "harry," you moan between his lips. "please," you say desperately.

"please what, darling? y'know i've waited so long to have you beg for me, i'd like to hear the words come from your mouth." harry tells you, his voice dark.

"please, harry, please touch me," you whine, grinding your hips against his above you. harry groans and pushes your hips back down with his own. "fuck me," harry curses under his breath.

after a bit of a struggle, harry manages to get both his and your pants to the floor. his hands delicately trace the outline of your panties along your hips and thighs. you can feel your stomach erupt in butterflies watching harry admire your body.

"you don't know how much i've thought about you [y/n], i could hardly contain myself last night knowing you were in the next room over," harry explains and hooks his fingers under the material of your panties. you're breathing heavily, red in the face as harry continues.

"if you could see the thoughts i was having you'd think i'm still some horny teenager with a crush," he says with a chuckle.

you cover your face in embarrassment and giggle knowing you felt the same way the night before only a few feet away.

"i mean, can you blame me?" harry asks, slowly pulling down your panties to your knees. "such a pretty girl," he continues, taking the fabric off of your legs. "my pretty girl," he states, twirling your panties around his fingers for a moment before tossing them to the floor as well.

"i-i've thought about you, too," you stutter. harry smiles as he slowly spreads your legs apart, admiring you from his spot between them. "yeah?" he asks, running his fingers along the soft skin of your inner thighs. "why don't you tell me about it, love," harry offers as his fingers slowly get achingly closer to your dripping pussy.

your eyes dart back and forth from his lustful gaze to his veiny hands between your legs. the knots in your stomach only tighten as you become more desperate for his touch.

"i-i…i never stopped thinking about you," you gasp as his fingertips run along your wetness carefully. "well? go on, pretty girl," harry encourages you.

your breath gets caught in your throat for a moment before you can respond. "i…" you're interrupted by a soft moan as harry applies soft pressure to your clit. "i, um, always have dreams about you…being with you…" you manage to get out before another moan slips through your lips.

"last night, a-all i wanted was you next to me," you admit shyly, grinding your hips further into harry's touch. "you were so close, i never thought…" you trail off as harry slowly inserts his fingers inside of you, only barely pushing into you before removing them. you gasp, shuddering at the sensation, hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"thought what, hm?" harry asks you with an innocent expression. you narrow your eyes at him but his fingers curl inside you again, a bit further this time, causing your head and eyes to roll back as you adjust to the feeling. "fuck," you curse under your breath.

harry just hums at your response, admiring your body beneath him as you try to catch your breath again. he slowly begins thrusting his fingers in and out of your tight pussy, getting deeper each time, groaning at the feeling of you throbbing around him.

"go ahead, love, finish your thought." he reminds you, his other hand pushing down on your hip to hold you in place as he continues working his fingers deeper into you.

you're a whining mess in his hands, practically melting into the bed as your composure falls apart. the sight of harry's arms working to pleasure you with his eyes focused on your shaking body only pushed you further into your trance.

"mm, fuck, i…i n-never thought, i'd…" you gasp as harry's fingers reach a sensitive spot, making your face twist in pleasure. "i'd get the chance to, mm," you try to continue but your voice gets caught again as harry takes advantage of your sensitivity.

"hm?" he asks simply, picking up the pace of his thrusting fingers.

you whine again, your hand shooting to your mouth to keep the sounds in. harry removes your hand before placing his on your stomach, pushing you further into the mattress.

"tell me," harry demands.

you can feel your orgasm approaching, your legs going numb as harry continues to quicken his pace. "i-i never thought i'd get the chance to be with you," you finally get out, your back arching off the bed.

all at once, harry's fingers pull out of you as he rips his boxers off quickly. you whine as your orgasm fades away, your hips bucking up in search of relief.

harry smirks at your reaction, aligning himself with you between your legs. "it's so cute how desperate you are," he tells you, making you hide your face once more.

he uncovers your face and gives you a soft kiss. "but it's nothing compared to how badly i've wanted you," harry says, pushing the tip of his erection against your aching pussy.

he sits up and guides his cock inside of you slowly, letting you adjust around him gradually. you gasp at the feeling, your head falling back into the bed.

"i've spent years thinking about you, [y/n], dreaming about you, fantasizing about you," harry says between deep moans the further he pushes himself into you. "i never stopped," he admits, leaning down to kiss you once more.

you're breathing heavily and letting your body relax as harry's entire length fills you up. he continues to slowly thrust in and out of you, carefully watching your expression to be sure you weren't in any pain.

"so beautiful," harry tells you between heavy breaths, his hand softly cupping your cheek. you look into his eyes, your face still twisted in pleasure. "so perfect," he sighs before leaning in to kiss you again.

your body relaxes more once harry kisses you, pulling him closer to you. "harry," you brokenly moan into the kiss, making him practically growl in response.

"there you go, love," harry encourages you, picking up his speed as his hips knock into yours. "so good for me," he says as he leans his forehead against yours.

your moans become more and more desperate the rougher harry becomes with you, his hands grabbing for your tits and groping them roughly. your eyes struggle to stay open watching harry, sweaty, groaning, his eyes dark with hunger as he desperately chases his high with you.

you reach for his chest, your hand resting against his rapid heartbeat. "feels so good harry," you whimper, bending your knees further into your torso to give him more access to your aching pussy.

harry's thumb finds your clit and begins circling it slowly, causing your legs to start shaking involuntarily. you can't help but let out a string of breathless fuck, fuck, fucks, feeling your orgasm returning.

"you're, harry, mmf," you try to tell him, but harry just smirks and kisses you to shut you up. "cum for me [y/n]," he says against your lips, thrusting harder into you.

your mind goes blank as you feel your body ride the waves of your high, letting sinful sounds fall from your lips as harry's head falls into your chest, his face dripping with sweat. harry's name becomes part of your moans, only encouraging him more as his thrusts don't slow.

"fuck, [y/n]," harry's voice falls apart, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. you're still shaking, your body unable to recover as harry chases his high. "you're gonna make me cum," he gasps.

you reach for harry's face and pull him in for another kiss, slipping your tongue between his lips. he immediately melts into you, pulling his cock out and letting his cum fall onto the soft skin of your stomach. you moan with him as he comes down, his body collapsing to your side with his head in your neck.

a few moments of silence pass as you both catch your breath, your hand comfortingly rubbing harry's shoulder as he hums against your ear. you eventually giggle, causing harry to laugh as well. another moment later, he attempts to stand from the bed, your arms still lingering around him. "i'll be right back, love," he promises you.

he heads for the bathroom and returns with a washcloth, cleaning off your stomach softly with a slightly embarrassed expression. "sorry," he said shyly.

you chuckle at the difference in harry's attitude now. "don't be," you tell him.

you eventually stand as well, your balance a bit off as you adjust to the feeling. harry helps you to the bathroom, his arm wrapped around your shoulders supportively.

"here," harry hands you a towel as you turn on the shower. "i'll grab your pajamas as well, yeah?" he says before leaving the room. you smile after him, your heart racing at the gesture. just as you step into the water you see harry leave your pajama set on the bathroom counter, offering you a shy smile as he leaves once again.

after you're dressed, you head back to bed to see harry curled up in the sheets with a book in hand. you can't help but feel giddy at the sight of him, shirtless, the sunset shining through the windows on his skin as his eyes focus on the text.

you crawl into bed beside him, and he sets the book down to reach for you. "hey you," he says with a smile. you giggle and cuddle into his side, wrapping yourself around him. "hi," you say shyly.

harry chuckles, covering you with the comforter and pulling you close to him. "don't mind me sleeping here for the night, do you? the couch isn't nearly as comfortable," he teases. you laugh, setting your hand on harry's heartbeat again. "of course not," you tell him.

you and harry spend the evening talking, reminiscing, laughing, and kissing until you eventually fall asleep on his chest. harry just kissed your head and held you close as he fell asleep as well.

the next morning as you're getting ready for the wedding, harry finished packing up the cabin and came up behind you to hug you in the bathroom mirror. "you look stunning, darling," he told you, his eyes wandering in the mirror down your body adorned in a beautiful dress. you just smirk and lean into him, your heart still racing at his romantic gestures. you're not sure if you could ever get used to them now.

on the way to the wedding, harry's hand casually rests on your knee in the back of the cab. you can't help but admire harry in his suit, telling him he looks handsome as you pull up to the venue ready to watch ron and hermione get married.

at the reception, hermione runs up to you, tears in both of your eyes as you pull each other in for a hug. ron and harry also hug, giving each other a specific handshake as harry congratulates his best friend.

"congratulations, you guys. you look perfect, hermione," you say once she pulls away, taking a tissue to her eyes. you lean in to give ron a hug as well, and hermione gives harry a big hug beside you.

"well, i see you aren't too mad about our little plan," ron says to you, his arm wrapping around hermione comfortingly. you and harry look at each other and laugh knowingly. you shake your head at ron. "no, i guess we aren't."

hermione's smile only gets wider as she sees harry's hand link with yours discreetly. "i'm just so happy we can be together today," she says tearfully.

you pull her in for another hug, with ron and harry joining not long after, making you all giggle at the heartwarming moment.

[hivemuthur]

Maybe this is gonna be a strange ask, but how do you think Viktor would be like, if he existed in the real world? Do you have any headcanons for real world Viktor, some adaptations of canon Arcane lore…? I’m new here, and I know you have stories set in modern times, but I kinda want to know your understanding of him first (so I get everything when I check those out).

Hi Anon! This is a very fun ask, thank you! And if you are new here, welcome! Got very long, so under the cut:

So, since in Arcane we see Viktor in around his 30s mostly and he is said to have an eastern-European accent (specifically Czech per Harry), first and foremost I HC him as a Czech millennial. And those facts matter to me in terms of his character building, because here the generations of millennials and gen-X overlap due to the existence of Soviet Block. What it means culturally: most of the western trends and technology were introduced to Eastern Europe throughout the 90s and 00s. The way his situation is presented in Arcane makes me believe that a character such as him wouldn't be coming from an imperial country. If we put him in his 30s now, he also wouldn't remember communism, but would be the last generation affected by it through his elders and the slow shift in the general system.

It's perfectly valid that he would still be disabled. As I favour femoral rotation for his disability, it's very likely that when he was born it wasn't spotted and treated properly, leading to him using a mobility aid throughout his life. I do believe that with medicine advancement in 00s, it would be possible for him to avoid wearing the back brace OR fully reverse the need for it due to the last few years rise in awareness about physiotherapy. When it comes to his lung disease: it wasn't very common in Europe to have areas so heavily polluted for him to have definitely developed it, but! If I were to give him one, it would be squamous cell lung cancer, which can affect anyone with proper genetic predisposal or weak immunity only after a short exposure to for example asbestos. I admit, I tend not to, because I really don't want him to die :c So, for me, he grew up in some small city in Czechia :x

As for what he is like: definitely a nerd. I can see him finishing biochem or maths/physics profile in highschool and then following it through to university (unis here are state, so education is free, you just have to pass the exams). Throughout school I can imagine him attending after-hours extracurriculars such as chemistry classes or programming classes where kids could play computer games on ZX-Spectrum in the last 30 minutes (and given how long those games would load it's not a lot of game time okay). I can see him programming his own games and being able to make an early radio receiver using a crystal detector. He would construct toys too. And maybe break toys to make new ones.

I think he would follow through with STEM/engineering but with an idealistic purpose. Oddly, I don't think he would become a physician (I'm a med person, so I'm allowed to say this) - I believe a lot of physicians are ego-driven (this is not necessarily a bad thing). There is no ego in anything Viktor is doing throughout the show: he doesn't attempt to steal Jayce's research, he wants to see it through, because it could change the world for the better. So he doesn't let Jayce drown. He's not interested in being the face of it. The ambition lies within the goal, not within the recognition.

Moreover, I think he would act from within deep philosophical understanding of life, which would lead to him reading a lot of books on different subjects. I can see him reading fantasy, sci-fi as well as people like Deleuze and Jorge Luis Borges and connecting all those dots. When it comes to relationships, I think he would be more open to those in modern era, especially when we erase the seizing fear of death coming from his health deteriorating. Still, hard to get through to or to be found by his person, but entirely more possible than in Arcane universe.

From smaller things, I think he would still be a workaholic. I think he would love animals, because it's impossible for someone so kind to not love them. I think he would feel alienated by the world and have difficulty taking pleasure from spending time with large groups of people simply because of his intelligence and the ability to think systemically. Which is why once someone who he gets on with appears, he would keep this person very close, no matter if it's friendship or romantic relationship.

In general, I think Viktor would grow up to be a very well-read, intelligent, kind and ambitious man that would struggle against the system his whole life. I think he feels a lot and deeply but doesn't show it so often, it would be visible in his work.

Okie, I think these are the most important aspects of his character in modern era for me. I hope I passed the test and now you can enjoy my modern Viktor blabber in fics!

[yuurei20]

Ortho Updated Facts Part 1: Being a Student (pt1)

Pre-Book 6 Ortho did not have classes of his own to attend and only attended classes on non-test days, with Idia.

He expresses surprise when he is selected to be Lilia's interviewer for his second birthday vignette, as he "thought the Magical Birthday Dice chose an interviewer from the student body," and he did not count at the time.

(His third birthday interview begins with, “Getting interviewed on my birthday while also being a Night Raven College student is a dream come true!”)

Ortho explains, “When I can’t be with (Idia), I take walks on campus and chat with people. I recently visited Professor Trein, and he let me read his books. He also played games with me. That was lots of fun. I’ve never met my grandpa, but if he were here, maybe he’d be like that. The other fun part about visiting Professor Trein is getting to talk with Lucius.”

Before enrolling in class 1-C Ortho says that all he would do in Idia’s classes was “sit next to him and optimize my internal memory…sometimes I take classes with everybody else when the mood strikes. The teachers don’t say anything about it.”

Ortho was also not qualified to participate in Beanfest, so his role in the event is mostly helping Idia relocate a weapon he has designed to the school store under the cover of darkness.

While suspicious of the legality of Idia’s approach he is happy for Idia to be voluntarily taking part in a school activity at all. 

In Book 5 we learn that Idia got permission from the headmage to allow Ortho to attend his classes with him, and in Book 6 Jamil guesses that someone from as prestigious a family as the Shrouds wouldn’t attend school without any aids (much like how he himself serves Kalim), and that that is why Ortho received that special permission. 

Now a “proper student” at the school Ortho is trying a variety of things to gain experience, such as working at the school store.

His new year resolution is to do club activities and school and events in order to “see what else being a student at Night Raven College has to offer.”

[kyokikikie]

Fangirl

-> Akaashi Keiji x Reader

in which Y/n's energetic senior introduced her to a pretty setter to be his friend. ( but she's secretly a fangirl of that setter?!)

masterlist!(⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

(a follow is very much appreciated 💙)

-> Akaashi Keiji wasn’t a sociable person. The only friends he had were his volleyball club members. Bokuto being the great friend he is, got worried for Keiji knowing that after he graduates, he would have no one to hang out with.

"I care about 'cha, Akaashi." The usually energetic ace rested his arms on the frame of the corridor window before turning back to his friend. "I mean it."

"Bokuto-san, I'll be fine. Besides, it's only one more year." Akaashi replied in his usual mundane tone.

Not wanting to give in, Bokuto swung his arm around his friend's shoulder. "Still, I don't feel easy..." The gray-haired senior thought for a moment then exclaimed, "One week! I'll find someone in one week! And if I don’t, I’ll take your word and accept the fact that you’re gonna be fine.”

So there he was, standing outside two classrooms away from his own. Akaashi sighed, “Bokuto-san, i hope you really didn’t gaslight anyone this time.”

“Hey! What kind of person do you think i am?!” Bokuto frowned, “plus, i really did find someone!” His gloomy expression turned cheerful in an instant. “Oh really?” Akaashi slurred his words sarcastically. It was hard to find someone who can actually handle Bokuto’s mood swings as good as him. “Stay here, Akaashi.” With that, the gray-haired senior entered the classroom with his usually greeting.

“HEY! HEY! HEY! Y/n-chan!” Were the only few words Akaashi could make it from their conversation. He leaned his back on the window glass and tilted his head up. Yet another exhausting sigh was let out from his lips. He had a perfect balance between schoolwork, training and sleep, so why does he feel so uncomfortable?

Just then, Akaashi heard a crowd of girls squealing. The setter had forced himself not to look towards their direction, knowing that it wasn’t his problem.

He lied

A brunette with two pigtails stepped forward from the crowd, the other girls cheering her on. She stopped in front of Akaashi, her eyes nervously shifted to the floor, “Akaashi, these are for you!” Her hands stretched out, shoving a bag of cookies and a letter which was all too familiar to him. “Please take it!” Akaashi felt a lump in his throat. He wanted to say ‘no thanks’ but the image of the girl bursting to tears made him flash a smile and muttered a thanks.

The brunette rushed back to the crowd of girls who showered her with questions.

“Akaashi’s really kind, right?”

“What did he say? What did he smell like?”

Slowly, they strolled away from Akaashi’s view. He hated the attention. He hated how guys from other classes would shoot daggers at him whenever he tried to interact with them. If Akaashi had been less noticeable, would he have no problem making friends of his own?

His thoughts were cut off when Bokuto came out of the classroom dragging a h/c-haired girl by her arm, “Akaashi, meet Y/n! Y/n, meet Akaashi!” He flashed a radiant smile. “Hope the both of you would get along yeah?” Y/n and Akaashi exchanged greetings and followed Bokuto around the school.

Akaashi couldn’t help but take small glances at her the whole time Bokuto was explaining things to her. He wondered if she was just like the group of girls earlier, a fangirl of his.

Could they ever be friends?

It wasn't until Bokuto left the pair to chat with his other friends for them to talk to each other. "Bokuto-senpai really is an extrovert, huh." The h/c-haired girl chuckled while the raven-haired boy simply nodded in response.

Her smile was just as bright as Bokuto's yet not noticeable by many. Her e/c eyes met his deep blue ones. They stared at each other till Y/n broke the silence, "So, you're in the volleyball club?"

Akaashi nodded

"what position?"

"setter."

"is it fun?"

"more or less."

Y/n shoots more simple questions which were quickly answered by short boring answers. "You know, Bokuto was actually my first friend in high school. I think it was... first-year? he came up to me when I was checking out the clubs." she reminisced, the corner of her lips curled upwards. "He wouldn't stop bugging me to join the boys volleyball team as thier manager. I was scared shitless by him and went to join the journalism club instead."

Akaashi's mouth formed and 'o'. he didn't know what to say. Y/n darted her eyes out the window, then turned back to look at him, "So for Bokuto's sake, I'm willing to open myself up to meet new people."

The raven-haired boy widened his eyes. After all, Bokuto really did look out for him — in one way or another.

"Hello, I'm Akaashi Keiji. Nice to meet you." Akaashi reintroduced himself, stretching his hand out.

Y/n flitched at the sudden warm gesture, her eyes softened. "L/n Y/n, likewise." her hand grasped his with bright smile plastered across her face as she shook it gently.

just like that, the school year ended.

Groups of students entered the classroom with their friends, laughers and chatters quickly filled their surroundings as they catch up with one another after the school break. It was finally Akaashi’s third-year in high school. Seeing the big smiles on everyone’s face, he sighed. Bokuto had graduated, leaving him alone at campus.

There was no one to talk to. No one to share his concerns for anymore. Akaashi had to admit, it was pretty boring without his loud, energetic, and cheerful senior to bug him around.

The raven-haired boy admired the view outside the classroom window. Just then, the image of the h/c-haired girl flashed across his eyes. It has been weeks? Months? Since Akaashi saw her. Yet her smile was still as radiant as the sun in his mind. Akaashi shook his head, there was no way Y/n would—

He was seconds away from finishing his thoughts when a girl stood in front of the classroom’s back door, panting. “Akaashi!” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs.

His rounded eyes met hers

“Come on, lets each lunch together!” Swiftly, she grabbed his arm and dragged him out of his classroom. Students in the hallway were surprised by the new duo in sight.

Especially Y/n.

“Isn’t that Akaashi?”

“Huhhhh who’s that beside him?”

Despite that murmurs around them, Y/n continued to drag Akaashi down to the vending machine.

Akaashi cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. He finally asked, “What are you doing?”

The h/c-haired girl simply chuckled, “What do you think I’m doing?” Before Akaashi could respond to that rhetorical question, she continued, “I’m hanging out with a friend, duh!”

Hearing that response, Akaashi couldn’t help but frown. Her words ran through his mind for a moment.

“Friend.” She said.

And for once, there was a genuine smile on Akaashi’s face.

And for once, it wasn’t Bokuto or volleyball that made him feel that way.

“Don’t mind, don’t mind!” One of Fukurodani’s middle blocker assured the team.

They were having a practice match with a nearby school that wasn't as strong as Fukurodani, yet they were leading by 4 points.

“Hey Akaashi! get your head in the game!” Another second-year middle blocker called out.

Akaashi was trying to.

He was trying to block out the squeaky squeals from the group of girls above them. They were holding cutouts of words that said ‘Akaashi you can do it!’ And ‘Akaashi we love you!’ The cutouts weren’t an issue, but the screams they’d make whenever Akaashi was about to set the ball made him want to tear the whole place up.

And just like that, Fukurodani — a powerhouse school, had lost to a mere neighborhood school.

The blue-eyed setter left the school grounds in a hurry. He had promised his friend, Y/n, to walk home together but she was nowhere to be found.

Did she leave already? Did i take too long?

Akaashi didn’t know why there was a sharp pain in his heart.

Feeling dejected, he began his way to the bus stop. Usually he would head the opposite direction with the h/c-haired girl, walking her home almost everyday. Just as he was about to cross the street, Akaashi saw a familiar figure heading towards the convince store in front of him. It looked just like her.

The figure then looked out the glass wall, making eye contact with him. Her eyes widened and ran out of the building, “Akaashi!” She exclaimed, waving both her hands in the air. “I thought you went home already!” The blinking green man appeared on the pedestrian light, the setter let out a sigh of relief and smiled before crossing. He didn’t know why his cheeks turned red, It must’ve been the cold air right?

“Did you just got dismissed?”

“Yes, coach gave us an earful.” Akaashi lied. It wasn’t ‘us’ it was just him, His coach could tell that he was distracted the whole game by the way he would mess up his sets and serves. Y/n pulled him by the sleeves of his team jacket and went back into the convenience store. “It’s a pity that you lost… buy anything you want, my treat!”

After multiple insisting, they both sat down on the eating area with a cup of spicy instant noodles each. After one big slurp, Y/n hastily opened her bang and pulled out her wallet to buy herself a drink. Unknowingly, she had left her bag wide open.

As Y/n was choosing her drink, Akaashi couldn’t help but notice the bright pink words written on a piece of cardboard. It was way too familiar to him.

‘Akaashi we love you!’ It said.

He frowned. What was this doing inside her bag?

At first, Akaashi refused to believe it. He refused to believe that his closest friend would scream and kick her feet every time he interacts with her. Y/n knows how badly he hated his fangirls, so much till he wished that he could just be invisible. So why? Out of everyone, why must she be the one to have that pink sign that waves above him whenever he plays volleyball?

He didn’t know what to feel.

Betrayed? Sad? Furious?

Akaashi placed his pair of chopsticks down and stared into the horizon, eyes narrowing as a train of thoughts ran through his mind. Not long after, the said girl returned with a bottle of cola and the boy simply acted like nothing had happened.

“I didn’t expect it to be THIS spicy, you get what I’m saying?” She told him, eyes still on her red flaming noodles. Akaashi hummed in response, eyes glued to her instead of his own cup of noodles.

He observed each and every one of her actions. He was surprised as he found them… cute? But at the same time confused.

It was the same Y/n that he knew. Not some squealing girl asking him to accept chocolates.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

The pair slowly made their way to the bus stop, walking side by side. Y/n’s lips were swollen red due to the noodles that she ate. Akaashi wanted to break the silence but there was a lump in his throat, making him unable to do so.

The sky cackled and turned deep blue. It started with a light drizzle that soon turned into a downpour. The two quickly ran to the nearest shelter.

“Did you bring an umbrella?” Y/n asked as she stretched her right hand to feel the rain water.

The blue-eyed boy hesitated before shaking his head.

He didn’t know why. He clearly had one that was big enough for both of them if they squeezed together. So why did he lie?

Without questioning, the girl smiled and stepped away from the shelter. Her hair and clothes were soon drenched within minutes. She simply couldn’t care less. There were puddles all over the floor as she spun around them, soaking her shoes and socks in the process. Akaashi’s lips curled up. He thought she looked pretty. Doesn't everyone think their friend is pretty?

“Y/n, your books will get wet.” Akaashi called out, his voice muffled by the sound of rain droplets hitting the ground.

Y/n seemed to get the hint and ran back to him, water dripping from her whole body. ”My bag’s waterproof, it should be fine! Come join me Akaashi, it’s fun!” As soon as those words left her mouth, the clouds above began to part and the rain eased off.

“Oh- Nevermind then…” the h/c-girl started to squeeze her uniform dry, “Let’s go, It’s starting to get late.” With that, Y/n and Akaashi returned to how they were before the rain had started. Side by side, they reached the bus stop.

Like always, Y/n started a conversation with the boy sitting beside her. She expected his replies to be as monotone as usual. However, Akaashi had asked a question in return. It was a first.

Before Y/n could answer his attempt to continue the conversation, her bus came. Y/n stood up and bid Akaashi goodbye.

When she was about to board the bus, she had a sudden feeling of warmth draped across her shoulders. It was the Fukurodani volleyball team jacket. Her cheeks went red with embarrassment as she turned to Akaashi. “T-Thank you..” She stuttered and rushed into the back of the bus.

The bus door shuts and the engine whirred. Akaashi’s eyes soften as he thought about her smile. His eyes were still glued on the moving bus.

He didn’t know what he was feeling.

But what he did know, for the first time ever, he was glad to have girls fawning over him if it meant that she was one of them.

(💙 word count: 2313 words.)

(💙 a follow is very much appreciated)