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beels-burger-babe · 4 years ago

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All is Fair in Dice and War

***Soooo, @bagelsinatoaster I love this request. However, you didn't specify which board game and as I am a huge nerd I decided to take some creative liberties and combine this with another idea I've been meaning to write which is: MC introducing the demon bros to Dungeons and Dragons. I certainly had fun with this and I hope you like it!*** Summary: Leviathan's world is flipped upside down when MC tells him there is a game that basically allows him to be the Lord of Shadows in real life!! He demands that his brothers join him as MC introduces them all to the chaotic shit show that is Dungeons & Dragons. For once, it was a peaceful day in the House of Lamentation. Lucifer was lounging in the living room with a cursed record playing softly in the background. For once, Satan had willingly joined him and was sitting by the fireplace, thumbing through a book on the human world. Belphie had been passed out on the couch when he arrived and was still laying there with an impressive puddle of drool collecting near his mouth. Even Asmodeus and Beel had joined in, with Asmodeus gently humming to himself as he painted his nails and Beelzebub happily munching on a snack as he enjoyed the sight of his family getting along. Yes. It was perfectly quiet and peaceful, and Lucifer didn't even have any traces of his regular migraine. But of course, nothing good lasts forever. Everyone jumped as the door slammed open and a wide-eyed Leviathan dragged you into the room. The two you very closely followed by Mammon loudly complaining. "Oi! You're gonna hurt them! Cut it out, Levi!" Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, momentarily mourning the peace that he had just barely begun to enjoy, and closed his book. "Leviathan, let MC go. What are you freaking out about this time?" Lucifer regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. Levi looked at it with the expression he only ever got when his limited edition Ruri-Chan merch arrived; his eyes were wide and glittering with excitement while his face bore a grin so large that Lucifer was surprised it didn't rip his skin. The third-born was practically vibrating as he let go of your wrist and pushed you forward. "Tell them! Tell them about the game!"

You laughed at Levi's excitement and casually rubbed your wrist. "I was just telling Leviathan about a game that we play in the human world called Dungeons and Dragons-" "You get to make a fantasy world that everyone plays in, and everyone makes characters. You can be a wizard and cast spells against a huge monster! Or a war hero fighter that has been betrayed by his brother! Or a noble knight who is looking for his lost kingdom! And the best part is that it's real!" Levi interrupted, nearly jumping in place as stars danced in his eyes. You put your hands out towards him to try and calm him a bit. "Well, not entirely real. It is played in person, but it's a role play tabletop game, meaning it mostly relies on the players' imagination. That is unless you have thousands of dollars to spend on 3D maps and figurines of your characters." Levi's eyes grew even wider, if possible, as he started shaking his hands up and down. "I CAN HAVE A FIGURINE OF A CHARACTER THAT I MADE?! GAAAAAAAAAHH!" A pillow flew across the room and hit Levi square in the face as a now awake Belphegor glared at him. "Will. You. Shut. Up?" the Avatar of Sloth hissed as a dark dangerous aura grew around him. Beel gently patted his twin's head in hopes of calming him. Leviathan pouted as he noticed no one else seemed to be getting excited about it. "C-Come on guys! This isn't even a video game! It's a thing that we can all do together and personalize it to be something that everyone will like. It'll be fun! Right MC?" You nodded as you gently tossed Belphie's pillow back over to him. "Yeah. I love D&D. I played it all the time in the human world. There's action, suspense, and even romance if you really wanted it," a couple of the brothers perked up at that. "I could put together a one-shot for you guys to try it out if you'd like? I'll help you make your characters, and we can all get together for an evening and play it sometime in a couple weeks." The room went quiet as everyone thought it over. Most of them had no interest in the game itself, but if it was organized by you... "I'm in," Beel decided with a nod. "I think it will be fun. All of us trying something new; it could be neat." Satan casually flipped a page in his book, "The creative aspect of it is definitely appealing. We'd be the masters of our own fate, and that most certainly piques my interest." Asmodeus smirked as he put the cap on his nail polish. "And you said it could be whatever we want? My, one might say that this game could help our wildest fantasies come true~" he made sure to wink at you as he giggled. Belphie, who had only just got back his pillow, scrunched up his face in disgust and launched it at Asmo. "Don't make this weird Asmo," he looked over at you and shrugged, "So long as you do all the work in putting together the character thing, sure. Why not?" Mammon looked over at you from the corner of his eye. "Ya mean to tell me, that you can make it so I'm some awesome, rich, and powerful prince?" Asmo scoffed as he pushed the pillow off his lap. "Please Mammon, even the world of make-believe has its limitations." Mammon blushed as he growled at his brother. You just chuckled and teasingly elbowed his side. "Don't listen to him, Mammon. There is a set amount of how much money you start out with depending on your class and background, but I'm sure we can find something that will make you happy." The second-born blushed even more as he grumbled quietly under his breath. Lucifer tilted his head in thought. "I suppose that if everyone else is playing, naturally I must as well," he stood and began to make his way to his office. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with MC." The next two weeks were spent planning and carefully figuring out the details of the one-shot and the characters that everyone was going to play. Levi was, of course, the first one who came to you to build his character. The two of you spent hours going through the Player's Handbook and sourcebooks to find the perfect build to recreate the Lord of Shadows. In the end, you put

together a human fighter that you gave a couple magic items to make Levi's vision really come to life. It seemed basic, but for the Lord of Shadows, it was perfect. The moment the two of you finished, Levi dove to his computer and ordered a custom-made mini that looked exactly like his character. Satan was genuinely interested in the game, especially after he learned about all the lore and rules behind the different classes and races. You had just been chilling in your room one day when the door burst open. Satan stood there with wide eyes holding a copy of Volo's Guide to Monsters. "MC, why didn't you tell me there are cat people?!" You chuckled, knowing exactly where this was going. "They're called tabaxi, but yeah, they're basically cat people. Would you like to play as one?" He scoffed and snapped the book shut. "Is that even a question? Of course, I'm playing as one." After some discussion and bouncing back and forth between classes a couple of times, Satan settled on a tabaxi druid; that way he not only looked like a cat, but he could speak to them as well. After a few days of you spending time with his brothers focusing on getting their characters ready, Mammon came to you wanting the coolest, most epic character ever. At first, it was clear that he wasn't fully invested in the process, but as he saw the customizable options and all the cool stuff that his character could have, you got his attention. You ended up designing a golden teifling rogue (you tried to tell Mammon that teifling usually wasn't yellow, but he gave you such a sad look that you couldn't say no) that was decked out with piercings and gems all over its horns and tail. He tried to act like he wasn't that excited about it, but one day during class you caught him doodling what looked like a stick figure version of the character on his sheet with a big smile on his face. Asmodeus came in shortly after Mammon finished,

insisting on having the most charming and beautiful character there was. You tapped your chin at the request. "I mean, stereotypically bards are extremely charming and...well seductive...almost too seductive. But that's only thei-" Asmo had hearts in his eyes before you could even finish. "That's what I want to be!" You sighed and made a mental note not to include any dragons in the session as you marked Asmo down to be an elven bard and helped him create his character sheet. You hadn't heard anything from Lucifer for nearly that entire first week, until one day as you were lounging in the living room, he walked in holding a stack of resource books. "Ah, MC. I've been looking for you. I wanted to inform you that I will be playing a half-elf multiclassing as a paladin and hex-blade warlock." You blinked at him as he put all the books down in front of you. "O-Oh. Would you like help putting together your character sheet?" He just grinned and began to make his way out of the room once more. "I've already done it. I must admit that this was quite a bit more interesting than I thought it would be," and with that he was gone, leaving you to try and figure out what had just happened. With only a few days left until the one-shot, you had to go find the twins and get them to make their characters. Beel apologized like crazy for you having to track him in down in order to get his character made. The poor guy was in the middle of peak Fangol season and had completely forgotten. Once the two of you sat down in the kitchen with an empty character sheet in one hand and snacks in the other, Beel gave you his full attention. He put a lot of thought in his character and wanted to make it really good since he appreciated that you were doing something that they could all do as a family. He bashfully decided to play a halfling. Not only did the little creatures share his love for food, but he thought it would be neat to try being small for once. His class was also a surprise. After carefully flipping through all of the class options, he had eventually settled on a cleric. "They're the healers, right? This way I can help the others if someone gets hurt." You gave him a huge hug then and there. Belphegore, on the other hand, was not so easy to work with. "Belphie, come on. Just flip through the book and choose something!" He groaned into his pillow and rolled onto his side to glare at you. "I told you I would play if you did all the work for me. Me flipping through a book is work. It's not happening." After an entire hour of trying to get him to cooperate, you gave up. In retaliation you made his character a goblin barbarian, just to drive in the fact of how much of a brat he was acting like.

Finally, the day came for you all to play the one-shot, and much like you expected, it was complete and utter chaos. You had tried to maintain some structure and keep everyone on track, but it was hopeless. Levi and Satan were taking the game seriously and, Diavolo bless them, were the only reason their party was making any progress. Mammon was trying to pick-pocket every non-player character that they met while Asmo distracted them by flirting. This worked great for them until Mammon got caught and would've died from the resulting injuries if it wasn't for Beel. Speaking of Beel, the poor fella was trying his best to do well in the game but kept getting confused by all the rules and different stats and modifiers. Belphegor spent most of his time, trying to explain it to his twin, but in the end, Beel accidentally ate his dice and Belphie passed out on his shoulder. And then there was Lucifer. He had been mostly quiet the entire game. Surprisingly, he let Levi and Satan take the charge in any investigations and puzzle-based interactions, but he did so with a smirk. You had a funny feeling in your stomach that he was up to something, and you were right. It was the final boss. Satan and Levi were on the edge of their seats, having worked so hard to get the party to this point. You smiled, knowing that one of the best parts of D&D was finally taking down the big bad. In this case, you had prepared a beholder for them to fight. It would be no easy task. The fight should have required them to work together in an epic battle of wits, magic and melee attacks. Only, when everyone rolled initiative, Lucifer went first. The eldest smiled as his eyes sparked menacingly. "For my bonus action, I'd like to use my hex blade's curse on it, which allows me to add my plus four proficiency bonus to all damage, and makes any rolls of nineteen or twenty critical hits. I will then use my long sword with divine smite at third level to attack him and attack him again using my extra attack," barely giving you time to process what he said, Lucifer rolled his dice twice. "And that would be a nineteen and a natural twenty, meaning they're both criticals due to the curse. That should hit, yes?" "Wha-" You could only watch as Lucifer, now with twice the amount of damage due to his critical rolls pulled out a disgusting number of dice and rolled them all. And of course, with his luck, they all rolled high. "So that's 90 points of damage plus the extra damage from the curse and the bonus from my duelist ability per attack, brings this 102 points," he smugly perched his chin on top of his hands as the table gaped at him. You gulped and looked down at the beholder's character sheet, "Y-You just took o-over half of his hit points in one round..." His grin widened at the information, "What, like it's hard?" You never got the chance to finish the game, as Satan burst into his demon form and pounced on Lucifer, the eldest laughing like a mad man, while Levi tore up his character sheet in a fit of jealous rage. Levi never asked to play with everyone again after that. ***This was just so self-indulgent and I just- I loved it. It combined two of my favourite things and I have never been happier. This was more crack than fluff, but either way, it was fun and I hope you nerds out there enjoyed it 🥰 Thanks again for the request @bagelsinatoaster!*** Taglist: @mimik248 @roseytoesy @ester-is-here

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merakiui · 4 years ago

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I was reading through your tags and you mentioned at some point the kazuscara roommates finding your onlyfans and I think I completely combusted—thus i present to you my brain rot of late: you attend the same school as them but you’re not actually friends, all you know about kazuha is that he’s the friendly regular at the cafe you work at, who makes polite conversation every now and then but otherwise is nothing of note. In reality he’s been stalking you for weeks ever since your first encounter, and is dead set on the idea that you’re this innocent, weak thing that needs to be protected (maybe he stepped in when you had a bad customer and your meek reply helped fester his delusions?). Scara, on the other hand, is only aware of your presence since you’re his favourite cam model that he recently found. (Since he’s a harbinger he’s probs loaded) Weeks of funnelling money towards you cause him to feel this unwarranted possessiveness, believing that since he’s been providing so much in your “relationship” that it’s time you reward him in turn. However, despite the unbridled interest they have toward you neither are aware of each other’s feelings for you— that is, until you happen to run into the both of them heading to your class. While both are known for maintaining their stoic masks, they’re friends for a reason— and instantly can tell the attraction their roommates have towards their own “lover”. After kazuha finds your onlyfans he’s certain that you’ve been coerced and wants to save you, while scara thinks it’s time that he’s stopped letting other plebeians look at his possession—so, despite their initial reservations, come together to form the ideal plan. When you find yourself waking up groggy in a room you don’t recognize, all they can do is look on with glee whilst planning their next course of action with their new belonging. They’re friends after all, and good friends share though, don’t they?

This is v long srry lol you can ignore this ofc!!

AAAH, ANON!! YES!!! <3 I couldn’t resist writing more on this concept. orz They make for such a terrifying pair when they work together!

(cw: yandere, stalking, nsfw, implied kidnapping/drugging, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, delusional thoughts, savior complex, implied violence)

What if Kazuha and Scara were just acquainted with one another and actually became closer through their mutual obsession with you? Yes, they’re roommates and ought to get along because they’re living together but they haven’t exactly clicked yet. They talk every now and then and know little things about each other. Nothing too special. They don’t really hang out outside of their dorm either, what with their class schedules being vastly different. And Kazuha’s always out of the dorm doing who-knows-what. Most of his time is spent at a café, where he’ll write and read and stare at you while you work. On the other hand, Scara prefers to stay inside if he doesn’t have a good reason to go out. He likes his alone time. Although he has enjoyed going to the library every now and then to study.

So maybe they need to find some common ground. Maybe they need a push in the right direction before they get closer.

Kazuha likes to stare. Talking to you is great, but he worries he’ll say too much and then he’ll be a nuisance, or you might not want to talk to him at all since you’re working. But you always regard him with a warm smile, happy to scribble his name on the plastic cup because you remember him. Because you recognize his familiar face and soft, gentle eyes. He’s the one who saved you from that rude customer, after all, and he’s a polite regular. Why wouldn’t you know him? You might look like you can handle those types of situations, but what Kazuha saw that day was something entirely different. You were nervous—so soft-spoken and scared. He absolutely has to protect you from those kinds of people now, doesn’t he?

And he does exactly that. He’s your second pair of eyes—your valiant knight in shining armor—who sees and hears all. Sometimes he goes to the café with the intention to simply watch over you and make sure no one’s bothering you. He can recall one time when a customer was speaking rudely about you because her drink hadn’t been prepared in a ‘timely manner.’ In reality it’s impossible to make a drink within a few seconds, especially when you’re already preoccupied with making another customer’s drink. She must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe she’s just a hateful person in general. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such fiery insults, though.

Her eyes just can’t see your perfection and therefore she does not deserve to see out of them.

Kazuha’s willing to wrestle with all of this darkness if it means you’ll stay safe, oblivious, and pure. You’re like a defenseless kitten, unable to protect yourself from the scary world. He writes about you a lot in his journal; you’re his muse—someone who constantly shows up in poems and short paragraphs where he tries to describe what your dream date might be or what type of wedding you’d prefer. Things get darker the deeper you delve into his writings, where you’ll find entries in great detail. Kazuha writes a lot and he doesn’t even mean to. He just has to get all of his thoughts on paper before they abandon him and he’s left with emptiness.

Everything you do is pure; you’re almost an equivalent to a holy being. Your smell is pure. Your body is pure. Your actions are pure. Your smile is pure. Even when you’re on the verge of crying from harsh customers or when you’re turning down a confession, you’re still pure. And Kazuha likes that about you because it’s special. There aren’t many people in his life who are completely pure. He’s been through a lot of rough things and has seen firsthand how impure people can be. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to protect purity itself.

He might have some impurities, but that doesn’t deter him from watching over you. As gentle and unassuming as he is, there are times when even he loses his composure. Not many are privy to these dark emotions of his. His smiles are sharp and venomous and his eyes fill with a gloom so dark it can swallow you whole. You’ll never see this side of him; he won’t allow it. Instead you’re treated to his sweet, calm side, where he feigns perfection in hopes of catching your interest.

As for Scara… He doesn’t really care about Kazuha in the beginning. He’s just someone he has to live with. It’s not a big deal and as long as he doesn’t try to make lots of pointless conversation everything will be okay. He prefers the peace and quiet, considering he’s acquainted with people who are far from peaceful and quiet. Scara’s relieved that Kazuha leaves the dorm so often because it gives him an opportunity to watch his favorite cam star’s most recent video. He’s your most loyal follower—someone who’s paid lots of money just to have access to the highest tier of rewards and such. He even got a private video where you addressed him and moaned out his name with lustful thoughts of him. Having lots of money comes in handy.

When he finds out that you go to the same school as him, he’s a little shocked. He didn’t expect you to be so close. You’re practically within touching distance. If only he knew your schedule. If only you were in one of his classes. It’s really annoying that he only knows your online presence and not who you might be in your personal life. The last thing he’s going to do is consult Childe, that popular athlete who knows literally everyone in the school for whatever reason. Surely he knows you. But he’ll die before he ever asks Childe for a favor.

Scara loves you out of every other cam model because you’re different. You’re not just trying to get fast cash. You’re genuine. You listen to your subscribers and their feedback. You do your best to improve and do even better streams than the previous ones. All of your hard work is overlooked by the other fools who watch your streams, but it isn’t overlooked by him. Scara appreciates your attention to detail and the way you’re able to hook him with your breathless voice alone. You’re very skilled at what you do, so it’s only fair you get paid for it.

But buying your services isn’t enough. It’s not a real relationship, but it certainly feels like it when he buys preferential treatment. Private shows, special requests, odd favors—you do it all because he pays for it. But this relationship isn’t going to be one-sided forever. You’ll have to pay him back in full eventually. Scara likes to think he has patience and that waiting is fine. It gives him more time to plan his next move—to figure out what he should do to finally have you all to himself. So that those private shows he watches through a screen can finally be real.

Scara finds the journal sitting innocently on Kazuha’s bed, its maroon cover and maple leaves pulling at his curiosity. He might not know everything about Kazuha, but he’d recognize this journal anywhere. His roommate almost always has it on his person. Scara wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with it. To say he’s curious would be absolutely correct. He can only wonder what Kazuha writes in that thing. Perhaps it’s just notes for a class. That’s what anyone would think, right?

Scara opens it and flips through the first few pages. They’re normal for the most part. Just a bunch of haikus and other useless scribbles. When he skips over some pages, he starts to find things that are far more interesting than poetry and doodles of cats. He finds the majority of the journal is comprised of information. More specifically, there are facts and other knowledge about you—the cam model he’s been obsessed with ever since he stumbled upon your onlyfans. He reads through as much of the journal as he can and instantly learns so much: your address, your roommate, your workplace, your friends’ names, names of any potential exes. The list goes on and on.

Scara doesn’t have anything against Kazuha. His first impression of him wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He thought he was a pushover at first. But now that he knows what this journal holds… Well, it sheds an entirely new light on his roommate.

Just days before Scara took a peek inside his journal, Kazuha discovers your secret online life. He snoops through Scara’s laptop when he steps out, having left it open and unlocked. He’s just trying to find what could have caught Scara’s interest, as he’s almost always glued to his laptop on specific days at specific times, with his headphones on and his gaze unyielding. He doesn’t intend to find the file of one of your private videos—something that was meant only for Scara’s eyes.

He clicks on the video out of interest. He’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t this. Kazuha sits there and stares at the sight before him. You’re dressed in skimpy lingerie and you’re muttering the dirtiest things while coating your fingers in lube. And your hands are stroking a thick toy and you’re addressing Scara and you’re lining it up to your hole and— He shuts the laptop before it can get even more explicit than it already is. He’s so conflicted, fraught with a betrayal so strong it weighs his heart down.

Why would he have this sort of video on his laptop? Did you give it to him? Did he make you do this? Are you in danger? Are you still pure?

Kazuha can’t kill on campus. It’s way too risky and he’d be one of the first suspects if Scara’s body is found. Besides, it’s not like he has the full story. He doesn’t know whether or not Scara’s done something that’s worthy of death. You could just be in a tight spot. He knows how easily you give in when you’re under pressure. Maybe you’re just doing this because you feel like it’s the only thing you can do. Not to worry; Kazuha will save you before Scara can ruin your purity with his twisted fantasies.

They confront each other when the time feels right. Kazuha struggles to keep a smile plastered to his face for the sake of politeness, while Scara holds in his raging temper so that he can bear some semblance of cooperation. Neither of them is happy to hear that the other went through their stuff, but they force themselves to make up because a more pressing issue is at hand: their connection to you.

Kazuha says he’s your secret admirer. Scara says he’s in a relationship with you. There’s no way you’d ever date someone like Scara—Kazuha knows this for a fact. Yet he falters at the confidence in Scara’s tone. That can’t be the truth, right? Despite this, Kazuha still strikes up an offer: If they work together to get what they both want, they’ll be unstoppable. With Scara’s riches and his influence and Kazuha’s charisma and clever thinking, they can easily get their hands on you. Of course this means they’ll have to share, but it’s not a big deal when they’re already in so deep. They both know the other’s secret; now they’re swearing to keep it in the pursuit of having you all to themselves. And luckily Scara agrees to the deal, but that doesn’t give Kazuha a reason to lower his guard.

However despite how well they work together when it comes to planning the kidnapping and actually executing it, they both have their own reasons for wanting you. Scara wishes to make his relationship with you a reality—to toss aside the screen that once held him back and finally do all of the things he could only do in his dreams. Kazuha seeks to protect your fragile heart, lest you crumble under Scara’s intense way of doing things and cling to him for salvation. You can’t do those sorts of things with Scara; he won’t allow it. Your purity is meant for him and no one else.

But sharing is caring and some have to learn that the hard way. It definitely brings Kazuha and Scara closer together, even if neither of them will admit it. If they look past their desires, they can be friends. And soon enough they’ll have to accept this new friendship if they want to avoid any unnecessary complications.

However there are times when they’ll cooperate in order to do things with you. They’re a packaged deal you can’t get rid of.

#chit chat #yandere #yandere kazuha #yandere scaramouche #kazuscara roommates #ty for feeding me anon orz #i like the idea of them being friends on the surface #but beneath that they're willing to abandon the other in order to meet their desires #but when they come together they're a force to be reckoned with #aaah i could go on and on with this concept #but i don't want to ramble #ANYWAYS TY AGAIN ANON <3 YOUR BRAIN IS SO LARGE #🧸 anon

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 310: A Tale of Two Kacchans

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Deku was all, “hey, you know what sounds like a good decision? Abandoning my studies at the safest place in the country so that the bad guy who wants to find me and kill me has literally nothing standing in his way of doing that.” All Might was all, “I fucking knew you were going to say some bullshit like that so whatever, but I’M COMING WITH YOU and I’m also going to invite the Hawksquad to come with us, mostly so that I can steal Jeanist’s car.” Jeanist was all, “okay fine you can borrow my car, All Might, but only if you wear jeans.” All Might was all, “okay sure” and he wore jeans and also sunglasses and a leather jacket and it was pretty rad. Anyway so now they’re out there fighting crime and hunting down the LoV and stuff, and absolutely none of it is going to end well, I’m just letting you know now. But I guess we’ll let them enjoy it while it lasts.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “happy belated Kacchan’s Birthday makeste, here’s the flashback you really wanted at long last,” and proceeds to pull the old vestige flashback out of the kitchen drawer and upend its contents all over my Friday afternoon without the slightest bit of warning. OFA III is all “WHAT’S UP I’M JUST SOME GUY, HELLO,” and okay?? Hello yourself. OFA II, on the other hand, is all, “okay yeah I have different hair and stuff, but I’m like 98% sure I’m either Bakugou or his goddamn twin, I mean look at me.” Which, yeah. I looked, and he really is though you guys. Anyway though, so he and OFA II basically just showed up in the First (who goes by Yoichi now)’s prison cell one day all “HEY THERE, WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU, APPARENTLY, ALTHOUGH WE SEEM REAL CONFUSED ABOUT IT TBH BUT HEY.” And so they saved him, and Yoichi was all “hey nice to meet you do you want to join my super-exclusive Saving The World Club”, and so they did, and then the chapter ended lol. I would have said yes too.

oh my sweet lord?? I didn’t realize we were getting a color page this week, but LOOK AT THIS

this could have been a fucking volume cover. I’m almost mad that it wasn’t, lol but I mean fkldjslklk just look at it??! Horikoshi out here spoiling us and making sure we’re well fed since next week the manga is on break for Golden Week. well this will certainly help to tide me over. hot damn look at those colors

so now it’s raining on some dumb building in the middle of somewhere

is this where the Hawksquad has set up camp for the night? or are we actually cutting back to the League? that’d be unexpected (but not unwelcome)

ffff nevermind dammit it’s just more random citizens under attack

feels like this is the third or fourth scene we’ve had of civilians being Under Attack since this arc started. I mean no offense, but I think we get it by this point. it’s the end times, etc. etc. we’re well aware that things have gone to shit

so apparently these two guys are facing off against a girl with a mutant quirk. and she’s telling them that she’s not a monster and she was just scared, oh shit. I believe her btw, you can see it in her face

but these assholes don’t believe her at all and they’re pointing what looks to be some type of support item gun at her

you know what’s interesting, is that this kind of random quirk discrimination is the exact kind of thing PLF and the like were swearing up and down they’d put a stop to with their glorious revolution. it’s almost like those guys were completely full of shit. huh

so yeah, fortunately for this woman someone is stepping in and intervening before she can be blasted to bits by this trigger-happy asshole for absolutely no fucking reason

looks like a hero actually stepped in and saved her?? but no that can’t be, heroes are the ones that ruin everything and make everything worse, or so I understand. lol where did all of this sarcasm come from out of nowhere dlkdsjlk I’m sorry guys I just suddenly got swept up in the hypocrisy of certain people’s philosophies out of the blue idek

anyway so it is of course Deku saving her, and now he’s trying to talk thess jerks down all diplomatically instead of just kicking their asses, which is certainly a choice

MOTHERFUCKER I’M

fucking impossible to miss the real world parallels here. shit. this woman nearly died for her crime of Walking While Having A Mutant Quirk huh. and meanwhile Deku is just letting this guy scurry away and even letting him keep that fucking bazooka of his, like, ????

fucking hell she’s crying!!

lmao this chapter is actively trying to make me mad now huh. that’s some genuine righteous anger I’m feeling on behalf of this fictional ferret lady whom I only met two minutes ago. girl you are not the one who needs to explain herself here!! you didn’t do anything wrong holy fuck. everything about this situation sucks so much

fkKJKLMMMHFGH

“I’m sorry I made you upset, please enjoy this panel of tiny!floating!Deku hefting this lady’s massive beach umbrella up for her like the fucking gentleman he is” well okay then thank you sir

and JUST LIKE THAT the tension is broken and I’m entirely incapable of taking the rest of this conversation seriously because Deku’s trying to be all calming and authoritative, but now the illusion has been broken because I know he only comes up to like her knees

“well thanks again for saving me young man. I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do like protecting your Lucky Charms cereal from all those greedy children”

oh hey All Might

you wouldn’t have just let that guy with the bazooka just walk away to commit more attempted murders would you?? man

OH MY GOD DEKU IS IMMEDIATELY DITCHING HIM AGAIN

I ~CANNOT STAY HERE~ oh, well, sorry to keep you detained I know you’re busy

dfslkjlk oh my god

fucking told you Deku didn’t pack any food lol. it’s literally all notebooks in that bag you guys. he couldn’t just leave them all in his dorm room when he left, because what if someone tried to read them and came across one of the pages where he absentmindedly doodled Kacchan’s name surrounded by little tiny hearts oh gosh

AWWWWW

I needed this Horikoshi. thank you for this wholesome soul-cleansing interaction after all of that bullshit earlier

so now Deku’s climbing up this tall building to eat his lunchbox more dramatically. Tokoyami would be proud

and Banjou is saying that society right now is just like in The Good Old Days (read: bad old days) when quirk society was even more of a mess than it is now

which is exactly how AFO likes it, no doubt

so now Deku’s having a whole conversation with Banjou seemingly out loud lol, weird. and he’s basically saying that they don’t have any clues as to where TomurAFO and the League are hiding right now, and none of the Tartarus escapees they’ve found knew anything either

mmmmmfmhm, marge simpson noises

but you think you can?? you, alone, by yourself?? you think you stand a chance?? I just need you to think this all through a bit more kid

Deku it is NOT JUST YOUR RESPONSIBILITY ALONE, PLEASE REALIZE THIS ALREADY. YOU MAY BE THE CHOSEN ONE, BUT EVEN THE CHOSEN ONE NEEDS HIS FRIENDS BY HIS SIDE GODDAMMIT

and of course my pleading is all in vain, because he’s a fictional character who can’t fucking hear me, and also because I’m pretty sure there’s only one character who is going to actually be able to get him to hear reason here. I’ve been saying it, and I’ll keep saying it lol. so until then I guess I’ll just have to be patient

anyway so it appears we’re segueing into another flashback??? HORIKOSHI PLEASE GIVE ME SOME BAKUCRUMBS BEFORE THE TWO WEEK BREAK, I BEG YOU

dlKSDJLFKWJELKGHSLGKLEKJLFKHLGK

YES, THANK YOU, I KNOW WHERE THIS FUCKING IS LOL, IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FINDING OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE REST OF THIS SCENE OR ANYTHING LMAO. BUT ANYWAYS DON’T MIND ME, YOU WERE SAYING??

oh my god oh my god I’m not readyyyyy, but also FUCK YEAH I AM SO FUCKING READY LOL LET’S DO THIS

YOU GUYS

I’M ABOUT TO STEP IN THAT ROOM AND YEET ONE OF THOSE FUCKING CHAIRS AT YOU ALL

NOOOOO

I’M ABOUT TO GRAB BANJOU’S GOGGLES AND STRETCH THEM OUT AND SNAP THEM BACK SO THEY SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF HIS FOREHEAD!!! IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES!!! I’M ABOUT TO MOVE TO JAPAN AND GET A JOB WITH DOORDASH AND FIND OUT WHAT HORIKOSHI LIKES TO ORDER FOR LUNCH SO I CAN BE THE ONE TO DELIVER IT SO THAT WHEN HE OPENS THE DOOR I CAN FINALLY ASK HIM “HEY WHAT THE FUCK” IN PERSON

AHHH NO EVERYBODY SHHHHH STOP TALKING!!!!

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL THAT PERSON SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS IN THE BACKGROUND TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, OH WAIT, THAT’S ME

(」゜ロ゜)」 щ(゜ロ゜щ)

LOL THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! LOOK AT YOU!!! YOU’RE NOT KIRISHIMA OR SHINSOU OR IIDA IN A WIG OR ANYBODY LOL. YOU’RE JUST A DUDE. BROOOOO ABOUT FUCKING TIME, WHAT’S GOOD

I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN AHHHH BUT I HAVE TO BUT IT’S TOO INTENSE AHHHHHHH

I CAN SEE THE TOP OF HIS SPIKY HEAD, IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME AHHHHHHHH OKAY I’M GONNA DO IT HERE GOES

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IT’S HIM. IT FUCKING REALLY FUCKIGN IS HIM OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. WHY AM I SO SHOCKED LMAO I’M THE ONE WHO’S BEEN SAYING THIS THE WHOLE DAMN TIME LMAO. OH GOD. O H MY FUCKING GOD

well okay then sir. so are you an ~ancestor~ or a Kacchan from another timeline or so what’s your deal then

YOICHI WHO IS YOICHI

YOICHI ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT’S UP. LMAO WHO IS YOICHI

(ETA: I’m going to punch myself in the face lmao. he’s Yoichi. he, the First. that’s his name. name reveal at long last what what!!)

MORE IMPORTANTLY SHOULD I BE IMAGINING NOBU’S VOICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE LMAO I AM ANYWAY BUT YEAH

(ETA: I actually think he’s going to end up being voiced by Nobuhiko whether he ends up being Kacchan or not, just because it fits right in with the general “identical in almost every way” aesthetic he’s got going on.)

TUMBLR HOW WE LIKING OUR ANGSTY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN?? EVERYONE HATED YOU SO MUCH BEFORE THEY EVEN MET YOU, BUT THEY FORGOT TO CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MIGHT BE HOT LMAO WHAT A TWIST

“some bright-eyed brat” oh come on. IT’S GOTTA BE HIM LOL

oh my god you all are probably TIRED AS FUCK of all my screaming but I’M SORRY IMMA HAVE TO DO IT ONE LAST TIME BECAUSE...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

that face. that expression!! THE FACT THAT HE’S OUT HERE OPENING DOORS WITH HIS FEET, LIKE HOLY SHIT!! JUST ADMIT THE JIG IS UP ALREADY

and so they really are the ones who busted First out of his jail cell huh

so how did they know you were in the room?? why did they come and break you out?? and how, pray tell, did they know to get you to transfer OFA to them?? hmmmMMMMMMMM

oh MY GOD

you guys. oh my god. it’s too much. every last bit of it lines up exactly with the Bakuverse theory sdkjfj I’m short-circuiting. it’s really fucking happening oh my lord

HELLO SEXY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN WITH HIS SEXY FUCKING SCAR, FUCK YEAH WE REALLY ARE EATING GOOD THIS CHAPTER

HELL YEAH WE’RE GOING. WE’RE GOING FULL SPEED YOU GUYS. LMAO I’M SO FUCKING HYPED RIGHT NOW I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF WEFKJLDKFFFF

SO, EVERYONE, LET’S RECAP. -- ACTUALLY NO, I STARTED TO WRITE UP A LIST, BUT I IMMEDIATELY REALIZED IT REALLY JUST NEEDS TO GO IN ITS OWN THREAD. SO I MADE IT AND POSTED IT, AND NOW I’M FINISHING UP THIS HOT MESS OF A RECAP POST. SO NOW WE’RE BACK TO THIS ONE FINAL PANEL OF DEKU EATING HIS KATSU ALL SERIOUS

YES SIR. YES SIR, WE GOING, FULL SPEED AHEAD, WHATEVER, IDK WTF IS HAPPENING BUT YES!!

lol, anyways so as I said in my other post, mysterious sexy guys with tragic pasts are what bring us together as a fandom, so whatever your thoughts are on the rest of it, let’s just rejoice in that. it’s what we deserve

#bnha 310 #midoriya izuku #ofa prime #ofa ii #bakugou katsuki #MAYBE???#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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lil-pine-mha-drabbles · 4 years ago

Note

can i request tokoyami or tetsutetsu with a

s/o that has adhd? :)

Tokoyami x Reader with ADHD.

There are so many different types of adhd and I didn’t want to disrespect anyone with how I wrote it so I placed in my own adhd. This is ligit how I act every day and I apologize if it’s not what you were looking for.

Also I saw you said s/o instead of boyfriend or girlfriend so I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible. I usually only write for female readers so I will try my best with this.

I really hope you like it! Here are some people that inspire me! @alpha-bnha-boys and @random-mha-thoughts

There are 1140 words to read below the line!!

————————————

Weeks ago you were sitting on the couch in the common room with Tokoyami when you got this sudden urge, his feathers looked so soft. You slowly reached out and touched your boyfriend’s face as he flinched and froze up. You petted his black feathers as he coo’ed for the first time. He cuddled into you, his head in your lap as you pet around his cheeks and under his chin. You continued the head pats for a while, heard some chirps you’ve never heard from him, and you smiled brightly at his cute sounds. After that first day it became an unspoken rule that after a long day, Tokoyami would lay in your lap and you would both relieve stress through it.

When you were with your classmates you were loud and fast talking, speaking your mind quickly to get to the point before anyone shushes you. Although most times you were shushed by everyone, except for Tokoyami and Kaminari, that’s why they were your closest friends.

You stared out the window of Aizawa’s class and watched some birds fly outside, reminding you of your boyfriend. You looked around a bit at the room of bored teens and an equally bored teacher and decided that you should listen.

After three minutes of listening you started doodling little eyes and flowers into your notes, little faces came to life on the page as you sketched their tiny little noses, and you imagined the little car you drew to drive off the page and down the side of the desk and then wondered if it would crawl up the desk next to you or go under the seat.

Your eyes followed the path you thought best for the small car until it “rolled” up the ceiling and “fell” on your desk. You then decided you wanted to speed run the whole path again and your eyes darted around the room to match what path you made earlier, restarting whenever you got it too wrong.

You were pulled out of your “car racing” when your boyfriend patted your shoulder.

“Yeah?” You turned to him, he sighed when he looked at your notes covered in drawings.

“Schools done for the day, it’s time to go to the dorms.” He gently grabbed your bag and you got up excitedly.

“Can we make ramen!?” You asked him excitedly, and you could’ve sworn his beak shifted in a small smile.

“Okay.”

You talked about the most random things as you passed the school buildings on the way to your rooms. Sometimes Tokoyami had to pull back the conversation to bring you to a conversation he was still interested in by a few phrases,

“Can we go back to that one thing, I’m still thinking on the topic”

“Oh, wait, we were talking about the other thing. Can we go back to that I’m still confused.”

He always made sure you knew he was still interested and if you wished to skip over a subject, all you had to do was say the word and he wouldn’t bring it up again.

You became a little quieter when you reached his room and opened the door for your birdbrain.

You looked at his black nails and watched how the color was chipped in some places.

“We need to paint them again,” you said as you shut the door.

“Paint, what?”

“Oh, your nails. They’re getting all chippy again.” You crawled into his lap when he jumped unceremoniously onto the bed. He carded one hand through your hair and you held the other, plucking off little pieces of each nail until the whole hand was clear of the black polish.

When you dropped his hand another came in its place and you started on that one. Since his hand would be at an odd angle if he played with your hair this time, he picked up his poetry book and read some aloud. He told you which ones he wrote before he read them and at the end of each one you dropped his hand and clapped lightly to the wonderful words.

When you finished re-painting each nail, he wrapped up the poem he was reading and gently put the book back on the side table. The room was rather bright, and considering brightness keeps dark shadow in line, you didn’t bat an eye the first time you came in his room. White walls some pastel stuff and of course, a lot of black.

You sat up excitedly and patted your lap, he turned suddenly and flopped down onto your thighs. “Where’s dark shadow? I’ve barely seen them today.”

“They usually calm down when you’re around so I’m not sure where they are.” That was his last full sentence before he melted into a chirping mess. He coo’ed and shrilled gently and it made your heart soar.

While one hand pet your boyfriend you took a picture of him to send to Kaminari who would most likely laugh. You hugged Tokoyami when he said it was time for bed and kissed his beak which in return, nuzzled your face gently.

You slept soundly that night. Something watching you protectively from the shadows.

When you woke in the morning, a package was on your desk, brown paper packaging tied with white string, in the bow of the string was a dried rose. You knew it was from your lovely boyfriend before you had to open it, he always gave you dried roses to keep or do as you please with it. You smiled and untied the ribbon, the box opened suddenly to reveal pictures on every wall of the box. One of you and him at the beach, he looked very bashful in his swim-trunks and sunburned shoulders, one of you both cuddled on the couch with the fireplace, that was taken at his parents house it must’ve been taken by his mom because his dad was in the background and you and Tokoyami were dead asleep. There were countless others that made your face break into a smile, Tokoyami was a hopeless romantic.

“Do you like it?” You jumped a bit when Dark Shadow’s voice spooked you.

“Yes I do. Where were you yesterday?” You asked incredulously.

“I was making this for Tokoyami. It took forever by the way.” You smiled at your boyfriend’s quirk.

“Were you watching me last night? I felt weird.” They nodded quickly.

“We want to keep you safe.”

“That’s fine, just tell me next time you’re going to do something like that.”

A knock on your door had you turning your head, and you watched as Dark Shadow slunk under it.

“Hi!” You hugged your boyfriend when the door opened.

“Hello, love. Did you like the gift we made?” You pulled Tokoyami onto your bed and hugged him excitedly.

“Yes! Thank you.”

#anime #mha drabbles #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha tokoyami #tokoyami x you #tokoyami x reader #reader has adhd #mha kaminari #I got up at six for a run. be proud of me #I exercised #I’m drinking water!!!#hopefully this will continue

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starcrossedkaiju · 4 years ago

Text

Kingslayer AU: Chapter One

Finally! I’m sorry this took so long, I’m a nervous wreck.

Notes: this was originally a warmup for character interactions/setting. It is very dialogue heavy.

\\ Warnings: alcohol //

A single tumbleweed was all that crossed Scott’s path when he arrived in the Red Desert. It was rather comical, he stood and watched it roll away until he couldn’t see it through the sheets of sand blowing over the ground.

In the distance, the only mountain located in the desert biome loomed over the horizon. Imposingly backlit by the red, swirling, tendrils of the world border. Most residents kept away from the thing, as it was meant to give off an unsettling aura. Although Scott never minded it. The wall of his room was almost right up against it after all.

On top of the mountain was a barely visible “castle”, which looked as if it was built by someone wearing a blindfold. The inhabitants of the castle, and the aptly named “Monopoly Mountain” could be accurately described as menaces.

Clumsy when it came to forward thinking, and leaving hidden traps around so frequently that traveling through any wooded area required either a very long stick, or someone willing to take the business end of a TNT trap for the team.

They also happened to be Scott’s nearest allies. It hadn’t always been pleasant between them, but circumstance led to circumstance, and now Scott was making his semi-weekly visit to Monopoly Mountain to shoot the breeze.

Typically the only person at the base would be Grian. Scar liked to make himself elusive by causing problems elsewhere and returning late into the evening with a story to tell over dinner.

The base of the mountain was void of a bubble-elevator. To reach the top one must climb an absurd amount of stairs. Scott huffed and resigned himself to the task in front of him.

As his perspective grew higher and higher the rest of the map revealed itself. The roof of Joel’s house peeked over a swathe of trees, and the tall barricades of Dogwarts stood out as a stark silhouette against the sky. Scott took a few minutes to regain his purchase, shielding his eyes from the whipping wind.

The season was gradually descending into winter. Made obvious by the deciduous trees’ leaves choking out the last of their green pigment for fiery shades of red and orange. The weather was far less pleasant to endure. Everywhere outside of the Red Desert had to deal with bitterly cold conditions, although there hadn’t been snow yet, the sky churned with a constant overcast. Threatening to storm at the drop of a coin.

Scott rubbed his arms to fight off the oncoming chill and continued his ascent, hoping someone had installed a fireplace since the last time he visited.

Finally he rounded the last of the stairs and gazed up at the tall, thin roof of the Sand Castle. The Red Desert flag strung on the tallest rooftop flapped around in the wind. Pizza, the pet lama, grunted in Scott’s direction when he approached the front door. He hesitantly reached out to pet her (she bit him once and he’d never fully gotten over it) from over the fence of her pen, and she let him rub her fluffy bangs.

Scott knocked on the door three times and gave Pizza one last pat, anticipating someone to open the door. It would be a shame if he’d hiked all the way out only for nobody to be home.

Thankfully, the door swung open with a welcoming screech of it’s hinges.

“Hey dude,” Grian welcomed him from the front steps.

“Hey,” Scott greeted in return, “may I come in?” he asked.

“Of course! It’s freezing out here,” Grian replied and stepped away from the door, which slammed with a squeak behind the two of them.

Scott closed his eyes and waved to the resident enderman, who greeted him with a friendly, distorted “hello”. A furnace was running to warm the living room.

Scott took his coat and hat off. He draped them over the arm of the couch before swatting a layer of sand from the cushion and sitting down, observing the scene in front of him. There was always something going on in there.

This time, a myriad of blueprints were strewn across the floor. Each of them depicting heavily annotated structures and what looked like plans for redstone. Grian had planted himself on the floor with a pencil, and was furiously erasing a line of text.

“What’s that?” Scott pointed over his shoulder.

“These,” Grian held one of the outlines up to the other’s face, “are the blueprints for our secret bunker,” he explained.

“You hear that? Secret Bunker, so don’t go telling anyone about it m’kay?” He tapped the paper with the end of his pencil.

“Okay, fair enough. Is that redstone?” Scott slid another sheet of paper towards them with his shoe.

“Yup. I’m gonna equip it with a lava trap,” Grian said proudly.

“And this one will work?” Scott teased.

“Hilarious,” Grian pushed the other’s shoulder, “yes it will work, it’s going to be my best yet,” he assured.

“Oh good! That’s not a very high standard to meet then,” Scott congratulated.

“Blah, blah, blah,” Grian mocked back, “you better be careful what you say with twenty five reputation points,” he said.

Scott threw his hands up in surrender, still laughing at how the other man’s ears turned red.

The house fell into a comfortable silence after that. The sound of scribbling and wind served as a calming ambience. Scott intermittently shared a few words with the enderman, who seemed to understand more of what Scott said to him than the other way around.

“Hey, Grian?” Scott turned over on the couch to face his friend.

“Yeah?” The other said without looking away from his work.

“Do you think you would have still been friends with Scar if he hadn’t died from that creeper?” Scott asked.

There was a pregnant pause, then Grian said, “I don’t know. I never thought about it,” he doodled absently on the margin of his paper.

“Hm,” Scott replied halfheartedly. He mainly asked because whenever he visited Grian was alone. If they were even home at all. Other than that him and Scar were always attached at the hip.

“Why?” Grian asked in return.

“I don’t know, forget it,” Scott waved him off. Not wanting to get into it.

“When’s he gonna be back?” he asked instead.

Grian sat up and stretched his back, “uh, I don’t know actually. He said he went to gather resources but you can never really count on him doing what he says he will,” he explained.

“You didn’t go with him?” Scott asked.

“I don’t want to babysit him anymore. If he gets in trouble that’s not my problem,” Grian said. He stood up and wandered over the the kitchen, carefully avoiding the blueprints on the floor.

“Ha! I would drink to that one, Jimmy is the same way sometimes,” Scott replied and watched as Grian contemplated the contents of their cooler, reaching in and pulling out a bottle of red wine.

“Well then, let’s drink to it,” he held the bottle up with a grin.

“Where did you get that?” Scott vacated the couch and made his way over to his friend, taking the bottle and studying it, “I haven’t seen the fruit of the vine in years!” he recalled.

The bottle had clearly been tapped into before, although not much was absent from its contents.

“I have my ways,” Grian rummaged around in a cabinet and pulled out two glasses.

“I would say it’s too early for this, but for once, it’s five o’clock somewhere,” Scott uncorked the bottle with a satisfying pop and poured each glass a third of the way.

Grian cleared his throat, “To the safety of our stupid partners,” he raised his glass.

Scott nodded in return and connected their drinks with a polite clink, then they drank to the sentiment.

The conversation traveled to the dining table, which was more of a booth. Talking points ranged from preparing for winter to future plans to expand their bases.

“I’m not going to get anything done with the weather coming on,” Scott complained over his drink, “I don’t handle the cold very well,” he downed the last of it.

“Well you can always move in with us for the season, the attic is vacant,” Grian offered.

“Never in a million years. I’d rather be sick at home than spend a week living with barbarians,” Scott refused the offer.

Grian rolled his eyes, “it is not that bad,” he defended himself.

Scott raised an eyebrow and shoved his hand in between the cushions of the booth. Pulling up a handful of sand, which he deposited on the table.

“We live in a desert! What do you want us to do about it, of course there’s some sand in here,” Grian threw his hands up.

“Some?” Scott repeated.

“Okay,” Grian glanced under the table and shuffled his foot around, which scraped across a layer of sand, “a lot of sand,” he corrected himself.

“Get a vacuum. For the hundredth time, get a vacuum,” Scott demanded.

“We have a broom that works perfectly fine,” Grian stood up and opened a linen closet to reveal a single broom leaned up against the wall.

Scott didn’t comment on it, but he had a feeling that broom never left the closet.

The conversation was effectively halted when the front door screeched open, letting in a gust of wind and sand. It blew a few papers off the floor and scattered them around the living area.

“Hey,” Grian called out, “Scar? You back?” he asked.

“Yeah,” came from the front of the Sand Castle.

“Okay! We have company by the way,” Grian prefaced.

Scar’s head poked around the doorframe, he waved at Scott who returned the gesture.

“What have you guys been up to?” He inquired at the sight of the wine on the counter.

“Just hanging out. It gets a bit lonely up here you know,” Grian closed the linen closet and took Scar’s backpack from him. He opened it and looked at the contents.

“Oh, you actually did what you went out to do,” Grian revealed a bundle of wood from the bag.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scar crossed his arms.

“Never mind, go wash up. I assume you’re hungry,” Grian opened a pantry and took some spices out, “are you staying for dinner Scott?” he asked.

Scott leaned out of the booth to check the time on the clock above the door, “mmm, yeah why not. I’m already here,” he decided.

“Let me just page Jimmy and tell him I’m gonna be home late,” Scott patted all his pockets but found no sign of his communication device.

“Hey Grian? Can I use your pager?” he requested.

Grian fished around in his back pockets and pulled out his pager, tossing it towards the other who caught it with both hands. Scott thanked him and flipped the screen up, selected the address he needed to contact, and typed out a short message. Making sure to say it was from him and not Grian before sending it to Jimmy.

“What’re we making?” Scott asked once he finished, intent on trying to help in the kitchen.

“Well, it’s Spaghetti Friday,” Grian declared and revealed a bag of Rigatoni pasta.

“That’s a thing?” Scott inquired, taking the bag and examining the packaging. It was pretty simple, mostly cardboard with a plastic window. Presumably from the village on the other side of the map.

“We’ve gotta have some fun around here, come on now Scott,” Grian said.

“You’re right, how can I help?” Scott said. Grian side eyed him.

“You can add the salt when I say you can add the salt,” he offered. Scott crossed his arms.

He wasn’t that bad at cooking. He’d only burned a few things, smoked the house out for three days once, and set scrambled eggs on fire.

“That one time was just a rookie mistake,” Scott retorted. It’s not like he did it on purpose.

“A rookie mistake that almost burned your flower forest down. I wouldn’t let you near the kitchen if I was Jimmy either,” Grian set a pot down on the stove.

Scar came back in the kitchen then, and was pulled into it almost immediately.

“A man can’t even sit down in his own house without his culinary skills being put up for debate?”

Grian laughed at him, sliding the pot under the water pump.

“That’s not an answer at all! Can you or can’t you?” Scott demanded to know, holding a salt shaker.

“I can cook,” Scar’s gaze wandered into thought, he started counting on his fingers, “pasta, assorted vegetables, mac and cheese, cornbread, mashed potatoes, and I can bake a half decent carrot cake,” he recited.

“I worked in a supermarket before the borders. We made some of our own stuff for the bakery and the buffet,” Scar said. It was the first mention he made of what he did back when things were normal. At least to Scott.

Scott was pleasantly surprised. He nodded, seeing as he’d been given a satisfying answer.

The spaghetti went off without a hitch, Grian was surprisingly good at making it. Scott had the sense that he’d done it many times before.

“Remember, you can put the salt in but you can’t take it out. Here taste the sauce and tell me if it’s alright,” Grian fished a spoon from a drawer and handed it to Scott.

“Hmm,” the other pondered after trying a spoonful, “maybe a bit more salt?” he suggested.

A window was propped open to let the steam and heat out. It was getting dark now, and the world border stood out against the purple hues of night falling over the server. The brightest stars made themselves known to the east as the sun set to the west. It was peaceful, the wind had died down. Scott wondered if anyone else was watching.

Personally, he enjoyed stargazing a lot more. His servermates knew next to nothing about the cosmos, which made him wonder who was teaching them about the greater universe. Clearly they’d never been out there.

“Yo,” Scar called him out of his trance. He handed the other a ceramic bowl.

“Thank you,” Scott said and waited to serve himself.

The spaghetti was pretty good. Decent meals were hard to come by, especially with the limited resources outside of villages.

Over the course of dinner, Scar explained his excursion of the day. He had been gathering wood to stockpile for the winter months (no wood in the desert, better to have a source available and not have to hike out and get more constantly) when he came upon Etho’s base.

“It’s entirely made of wool,” he recounted.

Grian raised an eyebrow in confusion, “All of it? Why?” he mused.

“Dunno. There was nobody around,” Scar replied.

“You didn’t steal from them did you?” Scott interjected.

“Not this time,” he said, which earned him a jab in the ribs from Grian.

The three laughed it off and switched the subject to current server affairs. Who had the best gear, everyone’s respective allies, the phantom problem, and the pros and cons of a vacuum.

“Well, I would say this is a fine work of spaghetti,” Scar complimented when he was finished.

“Indeed, couldn’t have done it without Scott. The best salt dispenser among us,” Grian agreed.

Scott tried to look offended but couldn’t repress a smile. He stood up, about to take his bowl to the sink; but Scar insisted that he was the guest, so he handed over his dish and sat back down. Preparing his “i’m out of here” pleasantries.

He settled on, “Well, I’m out of here,” after a few more minutes of banter.

“Okay! Thanks for keeping me company dude,” Grian gave Scott a hug as thanks.

“My pleasure,” Scott replied.

Scar offered to accompany Scott back to the Hobbit territory, but he refused.

“No need Scar, you’ve been out all day. I’ll be fine,” he assured as he adjusted his hat and jacket for the chilly walk home.

“Alright then, let me walk you out,” Scar proposed instead.

Final waves and good wishes were exchanged and Scott started back down all those stairs. It was quiet, save for the gentle buzz of the world border which sat right against the Red Desert.

Lost in thought for most of the journey, Scott traveled into the dark canopy of leaves. There weren’t many mobs out due to the moon being in its Waning Crescent phase. Scott rubbed his hands together and shoved them in his pockets, wishing he’d brought his mittens.

As he crossed over a clearing, an arrow whizzed over his shoulder. Scott ducked down in surprise, turning around and expecting to see a skeleton, but there was nothing there except a dreadfully dark bank of trees and a vacant plot of land.

Scott squinted into the darkness.

Then the handle of a weapon was brought down on the side of his face, and all the lights went out.

#THAR SHE BLOWS.#Time to get this monster out of my system! This au gave me brainrot.#hahaha! it only gets worse from here #kingslayer au #3rd life smp #3rdlife #3rdlife smp #grian #goodtimeswithscar #scott smajor #mcyt #cas types

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Murder, He Wrote

Part 4 Co-Written with @southerngracela

Summary: Ransom shows you a softer side, but when the table flips he leaves you with no doubt that he’s still just as dangerous as he has always been…

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is Part 4 to our submission for @jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. My writing partner @southerngracela is currently on an indefinite hiatus from Tumblr, and I’ve sadly no idea when she will be back. However, this chapter was pretty much finished before she took her break and the rest of the series is also planned out to finish, so as per her blessing before she took time out, I’m intending on finishing what we started.

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 3

True to his word, Ransom had let you spend the day with him after Blanc's visit. It was a day interestingly enough your mind wandered back to, if not for the change in scenery, but for the change in his demeanour. A couple of weeks had since passed from then, but the memory was burned in your brain. And since, you'd spent far more than just a day above the confines of your room. Almost every morning since he’d ‘allowed’ you to make breakfast and most mornings, unless he was heading out to wherever he went, he then let you stay upstairs with him whilst he plugged away at the book he was writing. That in and of itself had come as a shock to you, to learn he was an aspiring author for sure, but you had simply nodded and encouraged him when he had told you. And you had quickly realised that when he was busy writing, you could get busy reading one of the many books or writing in your journal while sat in the large study and he left you pretty much alone.

Which is where you were currently sat now, curled up on the leather sofa as he sat at his desk, tapping away at his laptop, your journal open in your lap and a leather bound copy of ‘Great Expectations’ lay next to you, the page marked waiting for you to pick up from where you had left off the previous evening. As you thumbed the pages of your journal to find the next blank page, you had to smile at the little doodle of a Christmas tree that caught your eye in the top right hand corner of a page you’d written a few days back, the day you’d convinced Ransom that he should at least get one Christmas Tree. He’d obliged, had one; only the one, delivered and permitted you to decorate it how you’d wanted to and even managed a little smile when you stepped back and proudly showed the finished product to him. Then, of course, quid-pro-quo, he had had expected something in return which you’d given, because let’s face it, he’d have taken it anyway.

You’d seen a softer side to him that day, and not for the first time either. Granted, non-asshole Ransom wasn’t an everyday feature by any stretch of the imagination, but you’d seen it twice now. You paused, and then thumbed back a few pages to the day you were now remembering, the day you’d first been confronted with a very different Ransom to the one you were used to dealing with. One that came out of nowhere.

It was a wet day, an early winter storm passing through New England. You were sure it could have snowed but instead, it was just wet and cold. He'd come down with breakfast, instead of inviting you up. He'd brought you warm oatmeal with cream and cinnamon, a small bowl of blueberries on the side and a pinch dish of raisins, having forgotten how you took your oatmeal. A cup of coffee, steaming on the tray. He'd set up your breakfast on the table and sat across from you, not eating. He hadn't even brought coffee for himself.

You'd assessed his mood as morose, distant even. You didn't press, but rather waited for him to out himself and his particular mood. You'd come to recognize when he was thinking and this morning, he was all thought and no presence.

"I'll be gone most of the day," he finally came clean, just as you'd finished your oatmeal.

"Okay," you replied. He hadn't ever really announced his plans to you before. He'd just come and go at all times as he'd liked, never leaving you home alone without the doors locked. This willingness to let you in on his plans for the day fielded a small red flag in your mind and if you were honest with yourself, you felt like this was a test. He said nothing else, just picked up your breakfast dishes and left.

In the time he was gone, you'd managed to shower, nap, write and read. You were growing hungry for dinner, having had to skip lunch in his absence. Then you heard it, the tell-tale signs of his return. The clicks of doors and sounds of boots on the floor above you. The jingle of keys, and a few failed attempts at unlocking your door. A 'fuck' and a 'God damn it' before the door opened and there he stood. Soaked to the bone, dressed in all black from his coat to his toes. Was that ice on the tips of his hair? Was he drunk or just having a moment? Fingers frozen from the cold.

'Jesus Christ, you're soaked.' You said as you took him in. His lips looked a little discolored, his skin more alabaster than ivory. Throwing caution to the wind, you grabbed your throw from the chair as you passed it by. 'Get that coat off,' you pulled at its thick woolen collar. The heavy fabric peeled away from his broad shoulders and you let it fall to the floor. You heaved the throw over him and pulled it closed around his thick chest. 'You're not getting sick and leaving me here to rot.'

You moved to give him some space and guide himself further into the room, but ice cold fingers wrapped around your wrist and you stopped dead in your tracks. Your eyes moved upwards from where his hand swallowed you're wrist, along the wet fabric of his black sweater, water droplet covered neck, to eyes that were lost and distant, just as they were that morning, but much worse.

You were nearly as frozen as his fingers were, not sure what to say or do. Worried about consequence. So you just stared back.

'Thank you', it was barely audible as the words poured from his lips.

'Of course.' You weren't sure what he was thankful for but you replied anyway. Cautiously, you continued, 'Will you come sit down? Do you want something warm to drink?' You wanted to ask where he'd been but that was a slippery slope.

'Not here,' he replied.

'Upstairs then, in the lounge,' you suggested. He nodded and turned on his heel, a glance over his shoulder to see if you were coming. You followed, pulling your cardigan around you tightly as the chill from the basement filtered through you, or was it coming away from him, you weren't sure.

You'd thought the lounge was where you were headed but instead, he'd headed for the kitchen, taking a seat at the table there. When he didn't provide instruction or conversation, you inhaled deeply and thought of something to warm you both from the inside-out. You felt his eyes on you as you gathered the ingredients you needed, cocoa, chocolate chips, milk. The cinnamon sticks from the cupboard. You were careful not to make too much of a clatter as you pulled the sauce pan from under the counter.

In minutes, fresh hot chocolate was in two steaming mugs with whipped cream and freshly grated cinnamon. You handed him a mug and then sat across from him, your mug between your fingers. You watched as he sipped from his mug, blowing a little on the liquid before his lips touched it. His eyes closed as if he was stuck in a memory, his expression softening.

His eyes opened and he sighed, 'I can't remember the last time I had something like this. I was just a kid, my nana was still alive. It amazes me how they turned out from the two of them.'

'Money changes people,' you commented. You assumed 'they' meant his family, or at least more specifically, his mother and her two brothers, one of which had been gone for years.

He scoffed, 'fuck my family.'

Throwing caution to the wind, you asked, 'is that where you were?' You couldn't have guessed, given he was usually extremely angry and frustrated when he'd spent time with anyone in the Thrombey-Drysdale family tree.

He frowned and nodded.

'What happened?' You couldn't resist.

'Harlan's memorial.'

'Oh' . You said unable to think of anything else to respond with, because really what else could you say. He’d attended a memorial for the grandfather that would still be alive had it not been for him.

'Oh, indeed,' he mused, long fingers flexing around the mug. 'Surely, you’ve figured out I wasn’t particularly welcome.'

You couldn't say more, he wasn't wrong. You bit the inside of your lip and swallowed hard. He needed comfort. But would you give it to him? Was he deserving of that? Hell no, but your heart ached for him a little. It couldn't have been easy. But maybe this was his punishment for avoiding the ultimate consequence.

'Go on, say it.'

'Say what?'

'That I deserve it.' He looked at you, 'I know that’s what you’re thinking.' He leaned back, 'maybe you’re right.'

Well, that threw you. 'I don't know what I'm thinking, to be honest.' You leaned forward, intending to slip the mug from his hands and take them in yours, but you caught yourself and stopped. That was a step that you weren’t quite ready for, or willing as might be more accurate, to take. 'But, I can tell you're hurting and despite what happened, how it happened, you deserve to say goodbye without the rage and selfishness that got you here.'

'Well,' he leaned back and took another sip from his mug, 'that’s certainly not what they thought. Meg assured me I'm still the stuck up prick without my trust fund.'

A small smirk played over your lips, barely noticeable, 'fuck your family.'

'Careful, Sweetheart,' he smirked, but there was no threat in his words, not this time. He was genuinely amused.

You managed a slight shrug, 'If there’s one thing I learned from writing about you and your ridiculously entitled family tree, it's that each and every one of you is all about everyone for themselves.' You took a deep breath, waiting for the repercussions to fall. 'What happened, happened. Now, this is what you have, so own it.'

You flinched a little as his hand reached to scrub at his clean shaven chin, finger tracing his bottom lip as he studied you for a second before he took a deep breath and reached back for his mug. 'I think you need to make this for me more often.' He stated simply, and just like that, the deep foray into his emotions and psyche was over, and the barriers were closed once more.

'Sure.' You nodded. 'Whatever you want.'

At that he gave a little scoff. 'Sure, whatever I want.'

Silence filled the room again, your mind not sure what to make of that last comment, and his was clearly working overtime, you could tell by the way his eyes were still glazed as he simply stared down at the mug in his hand. The rest of the time you sat by the table was quiet, and you were surprised to find yourself a little disappointed. This was the first real meaningful conversation you’d had with him since arriving here. Sure you’d talked, but never once had you got any insight into what exactly made him tick. You’d learned more in the last ten minutes or so than you had in the entire six weeks you’d been his captive.

His captive.

The words echoed in your mind and you swallowed as you remembered exactly what it was you were doing here. This wasn’t by choice, this man wasn’t your friend or your lover, he was your captor, keeping you for his own entertainment, which he was no doubt going to be seeking from you again tonight.

'I think I need a shower,' he leaned forward, disturbing your thoughts.

'Okay,' You replied. 'I'll, uh, well you know where to find me when you're ready for me. Anything in particular you'd like me to wear tonight?'

'No, not tonight,' he answered with assurance, his voice carrying a low yet soft tone. 'You can go read or whatever it is you do when I'm gone.' You blinked, temporarily dumfounded and he looked at you, snorting a little. 'What? You want me to come and have my way with you?'

'Is that a trick question?' You blurted out before you could stop yourself, before you swallowed and waited for the admonishing, but it never came. Instead he chuckled and shook his head.

'Didn’t think so.' With that he rose from his chair, reaching for your empty mug as he passed. His fingers lightly brushed yours and you were jolted by the sudden sparks that flew up your arm and you took a little breath as he passed, depositing your mugs in the sink. Without another word he breezed from the kitchen for the first time, leaving you alone in the room.

It left you perplexed. Completely and utterly perplexed. He never left you alone, even the weeks on your cycle he’d found other ways for you to satisfy him, with your mouth or your hand for instance, but tonight…

Taking a deep breath, you headed back to your room. You didn’t even look at the main door to the house, there was no point. It was always locked and you knew what the consequences would be if you left. Besides, you wouldn’t get far. Not to mention you had no idea where you actually where and the thought of being outside alone in the dark, frankly scared you to death. No, you were better here. At least you knew it was warm, and familiar.

You headed down the stairs and got ready for bed. You settled in with your book, and after a while your ears pricked up as you heard footsteps outside your room. You swallowed, clearly he had changed his mind. But, as you set your book aside, it wasn’t the sound of the door opening followed by his feet padding down the stairs that you heard, it was the lock clicking as he shut you in for the night.

The sound of the doorbell jerked you away from your memory. Ransom frowned and looked up from the screen of his laptop before his eyes caught yours and he gave a little smirk.

“Expecting someone?”

You rolled your eyes at his asshole joke and he chuckled to himself, grabbing his phone. As he saw who it was at the door his good humour slipped from his face and without another word he rose from his chair. He paused in the doorway and turned to you. “No funny business, remember…”

“Yes, I know.” You replied quietly. “You know where my family are.”

He hesitated, almost as if he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead he turned and left the room to answer the door.

The study wasn't far from the lounge merely the next room down, and the lounge was closest to the door so you tuned your focus to the voice speaking with Ransom. You recognized it and suddenly found yourself adjusting your tee and duster, making sure the cuffs on your jeans were even. You could hear the distress in his tone, the guest was unwanted and you hadn't realized you were now in the hall beside him. You noticed he took a step back towards you, as if he knew you were there.

Linda Thrombey's eyes raked over you, in shock and disbelief. “What the hell is she doing here?”

As she glared, you shifted uncomfortably, your hands pulling on the sleeves of the duster sweater you wore as you swallowed.

“She’s with me.” Ransom replied, his tone even.

“With you as in 'with you'?” Linda turned her eyes back to him, distaste evident on her face.

“Is that a problem, Mother, because you know where the door is.”

It was a problem, you could see it in her face as she once more looked at you, but instead of sniping back she simply took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

"No, I just wasn't aware you'd have company." Her eyes flicked back to Ransom who simply shrugged.

"Since when did you know anything about what I do on a daily basis, Mother?"

"Don't start, Ransom. I'm not in the mood and I didn't come here for a fight."

"Then pray do tell, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Can you stop being such a sarcastic little shit for once in your life?" she snapped.

You stilled a little, your eyes flicking to Ransom and you were surprised to find that instead of the usual anger you expected, his face remained passive on the whole, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that, well had it been anyone else you'd have sworn was concern. But Hugh Ransom Drysdale wasn't concerned about anyone but himself...

“What’s happened?” he asked, his voice still gruff but there was a softer note to his voice. Linda took a deep breath and she shook her head.

"I felt a call to tell you wasn't appropriate and this needed to be handled in person." She fixed him with a look. “It’s your Greatnanna Wanetta. She died last night, Ransom.”

You froze, hearing the news leave his mother's mouth and you suddenly felt sorry for him. Ransom, stood there stoic, his eyes fixated on his mother.

“Was it peaceful?” he eventually asked, his voice measured.

“In her sleep.” Linda replied, her tone soft.

Ransom stayed silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling slowly as he took deep breaths. His expression was unreadable as he simply looked at his Mother, before he raised his eyebrows inhaling slowly.

“Was there anything else?” He exhaled, and Linda simply shook her head at him, a huff of annoyed laughter escaping her.

“That’s all you have to say?” She asked, incredulously, as Ransom shrugged with a petulantly nonchalant air, and you saw Linda’s face redden as she exploded "Oh for God's sakes, Ransom, you really are such a selfish little bastard, aren't you?”

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, his tone measured. “You said it was peaceful and she didn’t suffer.”

“No, I said she went in her sleep.” Linda corrected him. “I imagine she did suffer, how could she not after everything that happened, huh? Hell, she probably died of a broken heart”.

At that you saw Ransom’ nostril’s flare as his eyes burned into Linda’s face, a flush of red rising up his neck.

"Get out," he deadpanned. When Linda made no attempt to move, Ransom stepped forward yanked open the front door of the house, gesturing with his arm. “I’m not gonna ask again. Go.”

"Ransom..." Linda tried to strong arm her way to stay.

"Are you deaf or just fucking stupid?" Ransom replied, his voice didn't even raise in volume but something about it made you shiver. He was positively frightening when he was in this frame of mind.

You watched as Linda gave him a final glare and stepped outside without so much as a glance back, the slam of the door behind her making you jump.

Ransom saw his mother out but didn't return to the study, in fact he ignored Y/N's presence in the hall entirely. Instead, he sulkingly moved towards the wet bar in the lounge. He didn't even bother with the glass, he picked up the first bottle he could wrap his fingers around and white knuckled the neck, spinning the cap off, it clinking to the floor. He downed a long pull, the amber liquid burning sinfully as it coated his throat, his eyes stinging but not from the booze.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s soft voice startled him as he hadn’t heard her enter the lounge. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his hand over his face, and turned to look at her, his jaw clenching.

“Did I say you could leave the study? Did I say you could join the conversation with Linda?” His voice was steely, flat, but he knew full well that she understood that to mean he was pissed and she visibly recoiled in the doorway, her eyes widening. When she didn’t answer immediately he slammed the bottle he was holding down on the bar top, and when he spoke again his voice was louder as he demanded an answer. “Did I?”

“No.” She answered with a quiver, “But I…”

“But I…” he mocked, sneering before he scoffed. “You know considering how smart you’re supposed to be, at times you’re really fucking stupid.”

Y/N blinked a little, and opened her mouth to talk but she fumbled over her words as she frantically began to apologise, which simply served to irritate him even more. With a frustrated growl he reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her head up to look at his.

"You do as I say, when I say it. That rule has NEVER changed," his voice was filled with venom. “I didn’t ask for your sympathy. And I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“That’s not...” she whimpered slightly, and the grip he had on her face tightened causing her to cry out. “Hugh, please!”

And there it was, that fucking name.

You immediately realised your mistake as his face burned red and his lips curled up into an ugly sneer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…you were hurting me and…”

“You think I give a shit?” He spat, and the hand suddenly released your face only to wrap painfully in your hair. Without so much as another word he began pulling you from the room, ignoring your shouts of pain and protest as you wrapped both your hands around his wrists, desperately trying to get him to release you. But it was no good, the more you struggled, the tighter his grip became.

Before you knew what had happened he’d dragged you to the door that led to your room and down the stairs, your feet slipping slightly, causing you to stumble, harshly banging your knee on the bottom few steps where he finally released you, shoving you harshly. Your balance already gone, you stumbled and collided harshly with the side of the vanity table, the pain in your cheekbone causing you to yell out once more as the stars exploded in front of your eyes.

It took you a moment to shake off the daze, and when you finally did you looked up to see his retreating back heading up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. With a gasp you slumped down, your back against the wood of the dressing unit, your hand reaching up to your tender face. From somewhere upstairs in the house you heard another door slam, then a moment or so later there was a roar of an engine, which was followed by nothing but eerie silence.

Hugging your knees to your chest you let out a sob as the tears streaming as uncontrollably down your face.

***** All he could see was rage. Red, hot, firey rage. He slammed the basement door and didn't miss the bar cart on his way out, a full bottle of top shelf scotch in his hand, coat and keys in the other. He drove for miles, no destination in his conscious mind but a rather interesting one in his subconscious.

Headstones came into view until his SUV stopped at the end of the grassy knoll where the mausoleum stood surrounded by trees. He climbed out of the car, bottle clutched in his hand and shut the door behind him, simply leaning against the dark metal of his vehicle. For a long while, he didn't move, he simply stared at the entry, gulping large pulls of the scotch as he stared. His thoughts raced and raced, almost making him dizzy. It was that or the fast burn of the booze.

It felt like a flash of his life replaying in his mind. His great-nana, his grandparents, his parents, a life of entitlement growing up, parties, recreational drugs, booze, women, his fight with Harlan, his sudden plot to commit murder and then the crime, his arrest, and then the visions came to a halt with a mind bending pain and at the end of that pain was Y/N.

Her face, her scent, her voice. The way she felt beneath him, around him…those breathy, little moans, sighs. They’d connected recently, Ransom was sure of it, ever since he’d invited her upstairs and let her do something as mundane as cook. They talked more, engaged more, he no longer fucked her and left, instead he’d dress and hang around for a while, and he liked it. But then, today, after his Mother’s visit, those eyes which had mesmerised him from the moment he’d met her had once more reflected fear and confusion.

And Ransom didn’t like it.

Where that fear had, at one point, given him a buzz, now it simply served to remind him exactly how things had been when he had first taken her, and he didn’t like that one bit. He’d grown to crave the other things, like the way she would touch his arm or squeeze his hand. The way she smiled and spoke. The way she made him feel human, not some ghastly, beastly monster capable of killing someone. But he hurt her, more times than he wanted to admit. He hurt her and did things to her, he was vile and despicable. He WAS those things everyone said.

He was a fucking monster.

He felt the upheaval of emotions begin to collapse around him and he fell to his knees. The sting started and he couldn't stop it. An outpouring of emotions, years, decades even of built up anger, resentment, unhappiness, disgust, fear, pain all erupted in a strangled cry as his chest heaved and his heart raced. Salty steaks of tears wet his cheeks.

And all Ransom Drysdale felt in that moment in time was utter defeat.

His Greatnanna, the only other member of his family who truly ever cared about him, that remained on his side or remotely understood him other than Harlan was now gone and the realization of loneliness hit him like a ton of bricks. His body shook, his chest ached, his mind grew numb and all he could do was cry.

What the fuck had he become, WHO had he become? What did he do? Why did he do it? This was all his fault, Harlan didn't deserve to be cold in the ground. He did this, all of this. Again, but why?

He had absolutely no answer other than because he could.

It grew cold, dark, and late. The scotch was gone, his eyes burned and he couldn't breathe through his nose. At this point he didn't care if he made it back in one piece. He was a piece of shit and deserved everything that came to him by way of a tragedy. He climbed into his SUV and tried to collect enough sobriety to drive towards home. Towards her.

******

You had no idea how long you sat on the floor, but by the time you finished crying and had mustered enough about you to move; you were cold, stiff and aching from sitting in the same position for so long. Your face hurt from the blow you’d taken against the dresser, your knee hurt from where you’d banged it but all that paled into insignificance to the pain that was going on inside your chest.

You didn’t understand why Ransom had flipped like he had. For a few weeks now, things had been okay between you, good even. He’d been reasonably amenable to most of your requests and dare you say it, almost happier in himself. But all this served to remind you what lay underneath that façade. A dangerous narcissist with the ability to swap his face and mood at the click of a finger.

Or, in this case, a visit from his mother.

You wiped at your face, hissing as your fingers brushed your tender cheekbone and with a slight whimper of pain you pushed yourself up off the floor and stumbled over to your bed where you lay down and curled up, hugging your pillow to your chest.

You must have dozed off, because the next thing you recall it was dark and you were still cold. Whilst the basement was equipped with heaters, you couldn’t shake the chill from your bones so you decided that your best option to warm up, and ease your aches and pains was a nice, hot bath. Stretching out slightly, you gave yourself a moment before you pushed yourself up, flicking on the lamp on the nightstand before you got up and headed into the bathroom, flicking on the light.

You paused at the basin unit, glancing at your reflection and you swallowed at the sight of the bruise that was already forming around your right eye and cheek socket. Swallowing the emotion you felt at seeing your face marked once more in such a way, you turned your attention to the bath and the suddenly remembered that the other night Ransom had presented you with a bag from a Boutique you liked that sold home-made soaps and bath bombs, clearly having been in one of his good moods that day. You had yet to unpack it all and put it in the bathroom, so, deciding that you were going to use one tonight, you turned to head back and grab the bag, but as you emerged into the main part of your room, you were stopped short as a thick chest, covered in a ribbed white tee, a hint of a cardigan peeking out as broad shoulders kept warm by a camel coloured coat blocked your path.

You gasped and felt your belly drop out. Your body immediately began quaking in fear as he stood so close to you. You cowered away, taking a half step back but it wasn't enough to put space between you as his hand gently grabbed your upper arm and pulled you into his chest, a shriek emitting from your voice.

"Don't," his voice cracked. "Don't scream, I'm not gonna..." his words trailed off and he just shook his head.

He held you against him. You were sure he could feel you trembling as his large hands pressed against your back. You inhaled a deep, shaky breath through your nose and was met with his scent. He smelled so good, like an expensive aftershave with hints of amber and sandalwood, cedar and vanilla but there was an underlying, distinct aroma of alcohol, scotch you suspected, unless you were mistaken.

You felt his face press into your hair as he took a large, shaky deep breath, as if he was inhaling your scent, which he exhaled before he pulled away, his hands cupping your face. He tilted your face slightly so he could examine your left cheek and you saw him swallow as he took in your bruising. Something stirred behind his eyes, a sad melancholy that you’d seen only once before crossed his arrogantly handsome features, and his head dropped slowly to yours. He held your jaw in his big hands, his lips on yours. You didn’t fight, fighting was futile, but as the kiss continued it soon became clear that this wasn’t like any of the times he had kissed you in the past. No, this one was soft, like a need to just feel you pressed against him. His plump lips pulling yours in and holding you there and you realised, from the lingering taste of something sweet yet ever so slightly tinged with sour, that your suspicions were correct.

Despite your earlier fear, you willed yourself to relax into the relative comfort. It was like he was back to how he had been before his mother had visited and whilst he was in that frame of mine, you knew you were safe, so keeping him there was in your best interests. Your fingers moved from your sides to his chest, the ribbed tee rough against your skin. You continued your movements as his mouth pulled you in just a little more until he traced his tongue over your bottom lip. Your fingers moved out to and up the lapels of his coat, the soft texture like a cottony suede under your fingertips, before settling on the back of his neck, his smooth skin and hairline a definitive juxtaposition to feel. He didn't balk or pull away as he had done previously when you’d tried to show him affection, and you continued to respond to his kiss, your touch seeming to be a comfort for him and in the back of your mind you wondered what had changed to make him act this way. He broke away and rubbed his nose along yours, almost as if he were touching a butterfly, soft and unsure.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." He continued to whisper, over and over. A soft, barely there kiss to your bruises and broken skin and more words, "Let me take care of you."

You were scared to admit that this felt good, the way he was being gentle, apologetic even. Pain radiated from his body once again, like it had just a few weeks ago, his eyes telling you everything he was feeling. The outpouring of emotions there were hard to ignore. You weren't sure if forgiveness was in your repertoire, but compartmentalization was. You looked back at him, and with a slow blink, almost hypnotized, you nod in reply to his request.

Long fingers reached out and tucked a tendril of hair behind your ear, the other hand simply cradling your jaw. You swallowed hard as he bent down and placed his lips on your neck. Your body shivered at the feel of his mouth warm against your skin. His breath hot on your ear, “do you trust me?”

"I don't know," your voice was breathy as you replied.

“Let me fix this," his voice wavered. It was a question, not a demand. He nipped at your skin and you shivered again from a combination of desire and disgust at the way this asshole could make you feel, how traitorous your damned body was.

Ransom felt her breath hitch against his touch. She wasn't fighting him, she wasn't combative, she was...receptive. The thought nearly made him crow for, in that moment, he could feel her trust in him coming in, even if she couldn't verbalize it. He was debating on his lips devouring hers but he was... oh God, he was actually afraid of losing her in the moment. Of her closing herself off. No, he thought, it's best to wait. Ignoring the throw blanket on the floor and the mugs of cocoa on the table, Ransom held her face in her hands. "Do you trust me?" He asked again. She swallowed hard and blinked again, slowly. It was as fair if a reply as he'd get. He could see the war in her eyes, her mind battling with her feelings, her heart. "Stay here."

He left her standing there while he started the hot water. He could feel her eyes on him, watching his every move. He felt different, better even, from the moment he sought her attention when he'd come home. He started the tub faucet and as he brushed past her again, he shucked his coat, tossing it on her bed. He took a small bag he'd brought her earlier in the week and carried it with him. He emptied the contents of a small vile like bottle and watched a moment as bubbles began to firm in the hot but tolerable water. With the bath filling, he sighed to himself and turned to face her.

He peeled his own dusty blue cardigan over his shoulders and let it set over the basin unit. He pushed the sleeves of his white thermal up his forearms and held his hand out to her. She hesitated but slowly slipped her hand in his. He pulled her close and his hands gathered the lapels of her cardigan and peeled it away from her. Underneath her cardigan, Y/N sported a firm fitting white tee and jeans that looked well fitted for her hips and ass, toned legs, bare feet curling into the tiled floor. Ransom salivated as her nipples hardened through the material. He realized she had no bra on under her tee and his hand gently slipped under her rib cage, his thumb padding over her pert nipple. He lifted the thin white tee away from her body and tossed it to the floor. He was half hard just at the thought of her naked under her clothes and now he was solid. Discomfort growing by the second.

A hooked knuckle traced down her sternum, between her breasts and along the center of her taught stomach. He watched as goose flesh covered her exposed skin. As his knuckle reached the waistline of her jeans, he took to his knees, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses to her belly, just above her flies. With just his fingers, he undid the button, unzipped the zipper and the peeled the material away from her legs, all the while deep blue eyes peered up at her. He wasn't disappointed to find she'd still worn panties under the rough material, in fact he was delighted. His eyes roved down to her black, lace panties and he reached out, fingers gently tracing long the detailed waistband. Those came down next and as she stepped out of the material, Ransom's hands traced patterns up her leg, faint kisses to her thigh, her hip, her belly. He stood and admired Y/N, completely bare, with less than a foot of space between them.

Ransom hummed, his right hand reaching out, pads of his fingers again trailing a path down the valley of her heaving breasts to her navel. He paused as her breathing hitched and with a smirk his hand dropped lower still, over the faint tuft of hair he insisted she kept groomed, his fingers slipping into her folds. She gave a soft gasp, eyes widening as he continued to tease her, her hands reaching to up to grasp at his biceps as he played with her. She was wet, so wet from just this little bit of play and with a sharp flick of his wrist, he pushed two fingers inside of her.

He leaned forward, mouth brushing the shell of her ear, “Just say the words and I’ll make you feel so damned good, Sweetheart, like you’ve never felt before.” Ransom pulled away, removing his fingers from where they’d been, his hand curling on her hip, sticky with her essence. He backed her toward the tub's edge, his forehead pressed into hers. All motion stopped the second the back of her legs touched the tub. "Get in," he whispered.

You sunk down into the water, the aromatic smell of calming lavender swallowing your senses. Bubbles covered your body, to the point they tickled your collar bone. You eyed him kneeling as he reached over you, grabbing the natural sea sponge loofah and dipping it into the water before he squeezed it over your skin, gently scrubbing. Your face once more met his and you carefully watched him as he exhibited a patience you had never seen from him before. Those blue orbs bore into you, but still he made no move to take you.

And it was unnerving.

But then, as you stared into those deep, icy blue pools something suddenly clicked in your mind. He wanted you to want him. That was what this was about. He’d spent his entire life with people who regarded him as unworthy of love or any kindness and he was seeking validation. Whilst you could see he was genuinely hurting, you also still knew this man was violent, angry, had taken you without your permission, taken what he wanted from you and when. You knew he would take what he wanted tonight too, regardless of what your answer was, the moment for you to back out had been and gone.

But something felt so good about his touch that you were shivering in anticipation of more rather than in fear and the feeling of enjoyment on your mind started to overpower the feeling of disgust in your belly as your core tightened with each breath you felt against your skin. You blinked, your head a whirl, as you were shamefully turned on despite the depraved nature of this entire situation. You broke from your thoughtful trance as a hand cupped your face, a thumb pad tilting you chin upward just a pinch to look at him,

"What?" You whispered.

"Let me in?" He asked, his tone a bit contrite and hopeful.

When she nodded in a slow reply, Ransom felt his stomach drop out from under him. Butterflies grew to take flight like an albatross deep in his gut. He dropped the sponge in the water and stood tall, towering over the tub. He reached behind his neck, between his shoulder blades and pulled the thermal over his head, his hair catching slightly on the fabric. He ran a hand through it to straighten it back up and tossed the garment to the floor. He watched as her eyes grew noticeably wide as they roamed over his taught, well-formed abs, his bare chest. He flexed a little, his muscles twitching as he focused on the buckle and flies of his pants. He'd kicked his boots off as he'd undone his belt, the clank an ignored sound as all he could do was watch her and she him. Ransom allowed the material to fall between them, his pants hitting his ankles and he was quick to slip out of his pants and socks. He palmed his hard cock through his boxer briefs as she watched him touch himself.

He could see the change in her, the look of desire and lust in her eyes. The way she was admiring him now, rather than cowering at him. She was appreciating what was before her. His pale skin, his sculpted body, his naked form. He’s seen her, stripped her bare. But normally he's pulled his dick out and just fucked her. This was uncharted territory, this was new. And he liked it. He liked the way she was looking at him, feeding his ego and willingly participating. This, yes, this was something fun for him. And oh yeah, she wanted this, he could see it all over her.

One foot, then the other, Ransom stepped into the tub and sat opposite of her, careful to avoid the faucet. The water felt inviting, the company even more so. Her one leg nestled between his legs while the other just to the outside of them. She slid her left foot up close to his thigh, bending her leg at the knee. At this new comfortable position, his fingers started drawing intricate circles along her shin and calf. He watched her inhale deeply and tilt her head towards her shoulder, observing him.

As you watched him, carefully, you saw him swallow, the hollow of this throat constricting a little before he took a deep breath, his touch on your leg still feather light. You wanted to lose yourself, give into the desire that you were feeling whether it be wrong or right, at that point in time you were past caring. You were in this position, nothing was going to change that, so was it really wrong to want to feel something more than fear? It was like there was a game of chess being played between your mind and heart, your gut and will.

And then, Checkmate, the idea came to you. You had a chance here to keep Ransom satisfied but on your terms. You had the power. And as long as you kept it that way you could control his temper and his actions, and get what you now shamefully admitted to yourself that you wanted. And the realisation that you had the winning move here was almost liberating.

Ransom shifted a little, the water sloshing around him as he sat up, his chest poking a little further out of the water as he studied your face, and you waited to see what he would do. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, he was clearly going through a mental battle himself and eventually he licked his lips, his gaze dropping to your breasts which were just under the water line and he swallowed once more before his hand on your leg stilled and he squeezed your calf muscle gently before he moved, leaning forward, his large hand once more resting against your cheek as he drew you in for another deep, gentle kiss.

You leaned into him, letting his lips works softly against yours as your hand dropped under the water and grasped his solid cock, giving him a gentle stroke. The kiss stuttered immediately, and he let out a choked groan as his eyes flew open, locking onto yours.

“Sit back.” You encouraged, and he did just that, his back once more resting against the top as you followed him, your hand remaining soft but firm enough to keep drawing those noises of satisfaction from his throat. His head tipped back as he let you take control, his Adams apple bobbing, eyes closing as no words left his lips, no dirty talk, no hissed little demands about what depraved position he wanted you to adopt, nothing. You held the power, and that turned you on in a way it really shouldn’t.

He gave a strangled hiss as you gripped him tighter and then you shifted, letting go to allow yourself to move your right knee to his left side, following with your other, his eyes flying open, a look of surprise on his face as you lined yourself up and his hands reached up, surprisingly gentle as they rest against your hips. There wasn’t much room, but it was doable, and you sank down onto him, his eyes flying to your hips as you both gave a little whimper as he filled you completely.

His fingers flexed against your skin, blunt nails biting ever so slightly, as you remained still, your hands sliding up his chest, curling over his shoulders. He was tense, coiled like a spring, clearly fighting back the urge to slam up into you and you began to work at a little of that tension, fingers rubbing up and down his neck, the index on your right trailing that vein that was bulging along his throat. His eyes never left yours until you softly began to knead at the strained muscles along his shoulders and neck, massaging deeply as you worked at the knots, his hands still resting on your hips, contracting every so often as you found a particularly knotty spot.

Every so often, he would make the slightest of movements, simply because he was relaxed and you could feel your walls fluttering sporadically, just from being full and stretched to your fill. But, still he made no move to take over, until at one point you hit a particularly knotty area at the point his neck met his collar bone and he gave a little jolt which caused you to groan and he opened his eyes, searching almost for permission. When he found no objection, his hands gently started rocking you.

The pressure and friction on your clit was boiling. It was slow and burned in a way that was so delightful it was almost painful. And, before you could stop yourself you were rolling into him as he kept that same delectably slow rhythm, rocking you back and forth slowly, deeply, before one hand left your hips and grasped the back of your neck, pulling you down for a deep kiss.

Ransom pulled away from her, breathless, his forehead against hers. The words were barely heard, but he knew he said, "I want you..."

"You have me," she replied in a soft whisper.

"Not here," he shook his head, their foreheads rubbing. He glided his nose against hers.

He missed the way she felt around him the second she managed to stand and slip out of the tub. Ransom was quickly behind her, following, bubbles and water dripping to the floor from them both be damned. He followed her to the bed where she stood at its edge, her eyes inviting him. He took a seat, bare ass and thighs soaking the comforter, knees bent over the edge. His eyes roamed her body, taking her all in. His own deep appreciation for her firm an awakening in his soul.

Slowly, just like she had in the tub, one knee slipped passed a hip, the other following. His lips were on her breasts, inhaling the scent of the oils and bubbles clinging to her skin as his tongue traced a hardened nipple and then the other. As he did so, she sunk back down his shaft again, a guttural groan escaping them both. She was ready, the thick vein of his cock giving a seductive friction against her wall.

Ransom ran his hands up and down her back, long index finger tracing up and down her spine as hot open mouth, needy kisses covered as much skin as he could. His hands splayed over her shoulder blades as his hips met her grind, catching her as Y/N arched into his movements. Her head tipped back, sheer wanton pleasure radiated from her with a heat he could almost feel. His mouth moved to the spot he knew drove her wild on her neck under her ear and the little whimper she made was nothing short of delectable.

As he began to lean back towards the mattress, he rolled her body against his, bringing her down with him. He planted his heels against the comforter and scooted them both to the center of the bed, still buried deep inside her. With a hand back to her hip, a gentle grip keeping his own pace with her rhythm, the other tangled in her messy hair as his tongue dove deep into her mouth, savoring each pass her own tongue made against his. He could feel her body flutter against him, sweet kisses her walls made against his solid cock. Her hands braced herself against his broad chest as she sat up, riding him with fluid, long rolls of her hips and he shivered, despite the searing fire between them. He was no longer fighting that desire to take control, he was more than happy to let her take the lead and respond accordingly, dare he say he was enjoying it. The slowness and sheer intimacy was something he never knew he’d craved until now and as she gave a particularly desperate roll of her hips he groaned, "Fuck yeah, Baby, just...like...that..."

A gasp and a shudder ran through you, your walls clenching down on him as a rush of power surged through your entire body. You rolled your hips deeper against him, the friction against your clit nearly too much. You brought your eyes down and looked down at his face, strong jaw, piercing eyes, his thick bottom lip sucked between his teeth. You had full control over him, beneath you he was as powerless as you had been made to feel. "Oh, God," you’re ready to sing a song of pure ecstasy as your body coils and tightens under your own volition. The signs of orgasm were just...right...there.

As you felt a deep thrust from his hips, hitting your sensitive and perfect spot within, your head lulled back and you felt his name roll off of your tongue, "Ransom...."

At the sound of his name spilling from her mouth Ransom gave a groan. It wasn’t Hugh, or Drysdale, it was Ransom. The one thing she had refused to say from day one and she had finally let herself go enough to give in to what he knew she wanted. His chest swelled, a warm feeling flooding from his toes right to his head and he surged up, his lips on hers, the kiss sloppy as with an easy movement he flipped them both so she was underneath him, all semblance of self-control now lost as her voice echoed round his mind, the soft, sultry way in which she’d cried his name repeating like a prayer.

"Gimme one more, baby, just one more..." his hips were thrusting hard, but not painfully so."Say it again, please," his voice was laced with fire and emotion, a whimper or sob nearly on his lips.

"Ransom...." she replied coming again and his fingers gripped into her skin, holding her in place as his seed shot deep into her, filling her, his entire body shaking, no nearly convusling as he came.

Breathlessly, they laid there, his body gently caging her in, her fingers curling around his neck and into the nape of his hair.

“Thank you.” He whispered, and you blinked, not quite sure you’d heard him right.

“What for?” You asked, your breath still punctuated by your gasps as you came down from your high.”

“For trusting me.” His nose nudged yours and you looked into his eyes, “for forgiving me.”

“I’m not sure I have.” You replied honestly, and a frown furrowed his brown before he sighed and closed his eyes, his head hanging a little.

“That’s fair, I suppose.” He looked back at you before he moved, pulling out of you and immediately you missed his presence, the heat of his body gone as he rolled to his side. You waited for him to rise and dress as he usually did but he made no effort to move. Instead he lay still, looking up at the ceiling before he turned onto his side, his fingers gently trailing down your bruised cheek as it brushed the soft pillow when you turned to look at him.

“Can I stay?” He asked.

It was a pointless question. Because, let’s face it, you didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t want to go he wasn’t going to, and it wasn’t like you could leave. But, nevertheless, the fact he had bothered to ask you in the first place was another first. And you found yourself suddenly believing that if you did say no, he would leave.

Instead you nodded, and he gave you a small smile, not a sneer or a smirk, a genuine smile that lit up his handsome face as he leaned over and pressed his lips tenderly to yours.

Together you managed to get yourself under the duvet before you reached up for the lamp and clicked it off before settling on your side, facing away from him.

“My err, my cheek hurts.” You said quietly, offering him an explanation as to why you’d turned your back on him. He gave a small sigh and one of his arms snaked under your neck, the other curled round your bare body, resting just underneath your breasts. He gave your shoulder a gentle kiss, another unspoken apology before you felt him tug you back into him, your back pressing against the hard wall of his chest.

He was the first to fall asleep, his body spent as was yours but you laid there still feeling the electricity roll through your muscles, tiredness settling into your bones. You had given him what he wanted but kept your ground and done it on your terms. It's what he'd needed this entire time, to hear his name from your lips, to be wanted to be cared about, to be "loved". You internally scoffed. To be loved... you doubted he had any idea what that actually meant, to be loved unconditionally. But as you’d questioned the other day over hot chocolate, was that really his fault?

This situation was fucked up. What you were doing was fucked up, but, if giving him what he wanted and what he needed kept you in the driving seat, so to speak, you could work with it.

**** Part 5

#murder he wrote #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #dark ransom x reader #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you

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littlenahsstuff · 4 years ago

Text

In love, I swear.

A/n Literally my first time writing actual fanfiction. This might be a flaming dumpster fire idk. I will persevere and cringe later, but for now, enjoy.

supreme!Cordelia Goode x reader

TW:nothing much, just a big old fluffernutter sandwich. A little angst. Swears I guess.

Synopsis: Cordelia has just recruited you to be a counselor at Robicheauxs and it's safe to say you are head over heels for the supreme. Unfortunately, you aren't the one to tell her.

You always thought that you weren't too special of a witch, you had the basic witchy spells down and specialized in the people who struggled on the inside... but in a more witchy sense. You also helped the witches who needed to get their powers more developed or who ones that are just behind in school. A sort of glorified counselor you suppose. It's sorta funny, especially since you aren't the most confident, how you can talk to all of the girls. When it boils down to it you are just a witchy gal searching for love. Specifically Cordelia's. It could never happen though.

Your love life wasn't the only area you lacked in before Robicheauxs, you had been struggling to find a job suited for your interests. Let's just say that you have a lifetime ban from one of the Mcdonalds in Louisiana. Fire and grease doesn't mix.

Of course, if it wasn't for dear, sweet, precious, Cordelia, you would be living on the streets. Luckily that didnt happen and so here you are today, three months in to your teaching position at Robicheauxs.

Oh, the moment, "You're hired. I look forward to expanding the academy's family and getting to know you better especially," left the Supremes lips, the better off you were.

And yet, even with all of the joy that comes with finally getting paid, there were the challenges as well. For starters, everyone was extremely nice to you, even though you kept mostly to yourself, there was this one person that made this heaven more hellish. Madison the bitch witch Montgomery.

You had been warned by Zoe, your closest confidante in this new place and also Madisons freaking girlfriend, that she was no pleasant peach. Never in all of your doubtful thoughts, had how bad it actually was crossed your mind. It was never the cockiness that got to you, you had a different appreciation for it than most. Found the confidence refreshing almost. No, no no no no. It was in fact, that she was constantly trying to dig up dirt on you.

"You're too much of a goody two shoes y/n," she once stated with a glare. The same day you had heard Zoe squabbling about something and your name came up. Your name and the fact Madison had stolen your wallet to look at your license. It turned up later on your bed stand.

Madison's a lover of Zoe and drama you've come to find out.

It's harmless though really, you dont mind the extra bit of attention that comes with it. Its flattering so no need to complain to anybody, especially not Cordelia.

Cordelia, mmm, yeah now shes the biggest threat here. She is the reason you got this job and might be the reason you lose it.

She once caught you with your doodle journal. It was a harmless question,

"Y/n, what're you drawing?" She looked over your shoulder. You almost jumped out of your skin and your sketchbook went flying.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" She worried her lips a bit. Her big, plump, kissable lips. Come on Y/n, get out of it.

"Yes," you squeaked. Sinking farther into the sofa. She chuckled her beautiful chuckle and sat on the couch arm.

"So, what was my favorite school counselor drawing just then?" She questioned. Glancing to the thrown book.

Your face went red.

"Uh-" you paused, come on you're making it a bigger deal than it has to be, "you." You couldn't look into her eyes.

She gazed at you at you and it felt like a hole was being burned into your skull.

"Okay," Cordelia said, leaving it at that. Stood up and made to walk away.

"Wait!" She paused and turned back to you, seeing you scramble to get your sketchbook.

"Yes?" Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I- don't you want to see it?" You said and you slapped yourself mentally for about the hundredth time she walked in.

She smiled softly at you, "Of course, I thought you didn't. You looked scared to death, like bambi."

"Okay," you flipped back towards the page and cringed. It wasn't your best peice. You could never capture her beauty right.

Her eyes scanned over it, widening before squinting with her grin.

"It's so good!" She gasped.

"Yes, that is Cordelia Goode," you joked in a monotone manner. She slapped your shoulder jokingly, making you snort.

"You nerd, I didn't mean it that way. Either way, you did a fantastic job! I wished I looked as good as you make me seem," she muttered the last bit, bit you heard it. It saddens you to remember the damage Fiona did.

"Hey, Cordy," you started. You realized that you used a nickname that Madison did, but she doesn't seem to care.

"You know what I think? I think that you're wrong. You see I just can't for the life of me get your soft proud loving smile right. Your eyes aren't as warm and glowing as they are in reality. I couldn't manage to picture the right placement for those worry lines or crowd feet you have. You might not like them, but to me they show that you worry and care and that you laugh at the stupidest of things, which is a trait I adore. You are more perfect than any Davinci or Van Gogh," you say. You don't like when your friends feel bad about themselves.

Cordelia's tearing up a bit and wiles it away. "Didn't know you were a goddamn poet too?" She joked with a giggle, "thanks y/n, sometimes I need to hear something like that."

"No problem Cordelia," I can't help it, you're my muse, is what you want to say.

"Well, I have some paperwork, but it was nice to see ya," she hurriedly excused and rushed out.

Unbeknownst to you, Madison was watching. She knew exactly how to get dirt on you now. She had something all along.

The next week you spent daydreaming about Cordy...elia, you couldnt help but go back to that conversation. You needed to be more discrete, way more descrete.

So you made sure to draw your crush no more. That didn't change the fact you forgot to destroy the evidence in writing.

You had slept in a little too late, so in a rush you were to get to your office. The reason you had being you daydreaming about Cordelia and yours faux life together a little too long.

A bunch of new juicy stuff for Madison as she snatched it from your bedside table. It was too easy really.

She opened it up to the first page. It acted like a normal diary, just stating checklists of things to do and things you did. The size was fairly large, so skipping a few pages till she got to the juicy stuff and the part where you actually did know Cordy wasn't harmful.

It was a barf fest of emotion. "Oh Cordelia is so awesome, oh I'm so lucky to work with Cordelia, oh my, I won't ever get a chance with Cordelia, she's the supreme!"

"Ew," Madison groaned, whipping out her phone.

Then she found it, the goldmine of confessions. It was all the way in the back, meaning you had wrote it recently.

"Dear, myself

Cordelia today caught me drawing a picture of herself and said something I didn't particularly enjoy listening about herself. I can't believe Fiona would send her into such a deep hatred of herself that even with her gone she's hurting. She's no mother. Cordelia is the love of my life, even if I'm not hers, she deserves all the love I can give. She's not broken, but she just needs someone to love her and I do. I promise to give her as much love as possible without her finding out what kind it really is, I'm in love, I swear.

Sincerely, Y/N."

So she snapped a picture of the page.

After school was over Cordelia was not expecting Madison to barge into her office. Let alone with something regarding YOU of all people.

"Cordy, I've got something to tell you about y/n!" Madison sang out, waving her phone in front of Cordelia's face as she sat on top her desk.

Madison was just careless with others and too carried g about herself. It was the perfect storm. The only person who could ever take it too far to just prove a point. That there was something wrong with you.

If Madison Montgomery had taken one moment to actually think about it, she was just jealous. Jealous that another person at the coven was better than her to Cordelia. She was one spoiled bitch growing up. Guess it backfired.

"What?" Cordelia questioned in concern, "Is she okay? Madison what did you do to her!?" Her thoughts raced, Madison's pranks often went a little too far. She did kill Misty.

"Now now Cordy, don't get your panties in a twist. Here read this," Madison demanded to her supreme, she shoved it into her face and Cordelia grabbed it.

Her eyes expected headlines on the news or a mugshot, but she realized it was just your writing.

"Madison," she warned.

"Come on, I know you can read!" Madison poked Cordelia's forehead, prompting a slap from the Supreme.

Ms. Goode exhaled, "Fine."

Her eyes fluttered over the words, brows furrowing with every sentence. She couldn't comprehend, could she read?? It seemed to her as if her brain was creating what she wanted to see, but no, you wrote it. Unfortunately.

Everything's silent. Then the thought flits across her head, you like her back.

"In love, I swear."

Oh she's mad. Not at you, no, she could never. Madison on the other hand better,

"Get out of my office right now," Cordelia whispered. Madison's smile faltered.

"What, didn't you want to know your feelings are reciprocated? Come on, I'm just trying to get you two to speed up the process." Madison hopped of the desk and sauntered out.

What has she done.

Cordelia was wracked with guilt for awhile, with no way to tell you either. How does one even go about telling someone they read their deepest darkest secrets. How!?

She couldn't, so she did what she could. She pulled away from you and into her work. All of those lunches spent together stopped. The nights in the green house gone. Reading together on the weekends by the fire, gone.

And it left you empty. You had no idea what you did, but you must've done something.

So you decided to confront her, you hadn't gone much sleep since, so you were literally and figuratively tired of all of this shit.

Your knock on the door startled Cordelia, but your presence startled her even more. Both of you looked like wrecks.

"Oh, Y/n! Please, come in," Cordelia gestured and you did, closing the door behind you.

It was then that you finally broke down.

"What did I do Delia!?" You sobbed, falling to your knees. Yes it was dramatic and not even you expected it but you were holding your emotions for so long.

"Oh," Cordelia briskly moved over to you, concern painted on her face. She was watching you carefully, you looked so fragile. Just like she had felt at times.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, "What did I do?" Her hand tilted your head towards her, but you still couldn't look into her brown eyes, opting for the floor. If you did, you probably wouldn't be able to look away.

"Y/n look at me sweetie," the nicknames never failed to make your heart soar. It was your weakness, your eyes met and they were glued there.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing nothing!" She took a deep breath, "I saw a page from your journal."

You froze, terror crept up your spine.

"Oh my god. Um Cordelia I am so sorry, you, wow I- god I'm so creepy! It's perfectly fine if you want to not be my friend or fire me. I didn't do it to be weird, it was how I expressed myself. I was trying to hide it I promise, i dont even know what happened!?"

"I'm gonna kill Madison, faster than my mother did," Cordelia groaned.

"Wh-" your brain malfunctions. Is-Is Cordelia kissing you? Right now?

Indeed she was and just like you dreamed about, her lips were so soft and her kiss gentle.

Maybe Madison could be forgiven... but not without a harsh talk.

"In love, I swear," she repeated in a whisper against your lips.

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 5 years ago

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Freckles

Request: Hii!! It’s me again :) Can i request a Fred x reader were the reader is staying at the burrow and she loves drawing people, so one day she decides to draw Fred without him knowing and it sort of ends with Fred confessing? Thank youuu

A/N: Not to be dramatic, so this is the cutest fucking thing ever, thank you so much for requesting @florencxs I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: You absolutely love drawing people, especially a particular Fred Weasley, which becomes obvious when you stay at the burrow for the summer, and he catches you drawing him.

You were sitting on the couch in the main room of the Burrow, sitting in front of the fire, and doodling in your sketchbook as you waited for inspiration to strike you with an actual subject to draw. You were the only one in the main room, the rest of the Burrow residence either asleep, or in the kitchen finding something to eat, Fred included.

You were invited to the Burrow by Fred and George. Earlier in the year, you were talking about not being excited to go home, because your parents were never really home and you would most likely spend the Holidays alone. So as soon as they could, Fred and George sent a letter home asking if you could stay during the holiday, and of course Molly said yes.

You were disrupted from your drawing when Fred walked into the room, looking at you before trying to peer over the edge of your notebook.

“What cha doing?” Fred asked, pouting when you shut the book which made you laugh.

“Just doodling, nothing interesting” You said, brushing it off.

“Well that's a lie, you’re always interesting” Fred said sitting in the spot across from you while a blush dusted your face.

You weren't going to lie, you had a crush on the older Weasley twin, ever since second year when you accidentally tackled him as you were running from Filtch after you dyed Mrs. Norris Purple. It was harmless, easily reversible with a spell and pet friendly, but that didn’t help to water down his rage at all. Still, it was worth it because it was how you were introduced to the Weasleys in the first place. Now in your sixth year, you and the twins were nearly inseparable, though your crush on Fred remained.

You opened your mouth to answer Fred’s compliment, but were interrupted as Molly entered the room, followed by everyone else.

“We’re off to Diagon Ally to do some last minute Holiday shopping, would you two like to come?” Molly asked you and Fred

“I’m alright, thank you!” You said smiling at Molly

“I think I’ll stay back as well” Fred said

“Alright, well we’ll be back in a few hours, you know where everything is if you need it, have fun” Molly said, and with that, her and everyone else left though the fireplace, leaving you and Fred alone.

“Is it cool if I hang out in here with you? I need to work on an assignment. Snape, assigning reading over a holiday. It should be a crime” Fred said, making you laugh and nod. You had been assigned to read the same book, something about different herbs and their properties, but you had finished it earlier in the week.

“Sure, I don’t mind” You said, watching as Fred got situated on the other side of the couch before opening his book. You watched him for a second, before opening your sketchbook and opening to a new page, inspiration suddenly striking you.

About half an hour had gone by and you were currently working on getting the freckles on your drawing just right, your eyes darting from Fred, to your page, and back again, but you still couldn’t get those damn freckles right.

You placed a few more dots, looking up to make sure you placed them correctly before making eye contact with the man you were currently drawing, causing you to jump a bit in surprise.

“Its hard to focus on reading when you keep checking me out” Fred joked, causing your face to heat up but you played it off by rolling your eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself Weasley, I was looking at..... The wall” You said like a question, just saying the first thing that you saw.

“....The wall” Fred said, more like a statement.

“Yep” You said, not giving into his look of disbelief.

“You mean to tell me... you’ve spent the last half hour drawing that wall” He said pointing behind him. “The only wall in the whole house with absolutely nothing on it by the way.”

“Yeah, Its very complex” You said, continuing worth your lie, trying your best to look him in the eye.

“Huh, well can I see your complex recreation?” He asked, causing your face to heat up even more.

Shit

“No, its not done yet, and I haven't gotten the blankness quite right and- Hey!” You stammered, suddenly stopping when Fred snatched the book out of your hands and turning to your most recent drawing, which of course, was of him.

You didn’t even try to grab the book back out of his hands. It was too late. He had seen it. He was currently still seeing it. You were screwed. This was it. This was the end of days, the day he found out that you liked him and-

“You drew this?” Fred suddenly asked, snapping you out of your trance. The softness of his tone surprising you.

“Well, yeah” You said, not quite sure how you were supposed to respond.

Fred held the sketchbook, eyes looking over every fine detail as a smile crossed his face.

“Do you like it?” You asked after a moment of silence, not sure how to feel about his reaction.

Fred's eyes finally met yours and suddenly you realized how close you were together, Fred having moved closer when he stole your book.

“Yeah, I do” He said, looking back at the page “The way you’re able to pay attention to every detail, how you are able to see the pieces of a persons personality poking through, how you make every line seem so delicate but so intent. Its amazing” He finished, looking back at you.

There was a beat of silence as you both looked into each others eyes, before suddenly yours darted down to his lips and back. His eyes did the same, but his gaze lingered for longer, it was more intentional.

“Y/n, can I-” Fred asked, but you didn’t let him finish, you knew what he was going to ask. So before he could complete his question, you closed the space between you two and placed your lips on his.

Fred took no time to respond to the kiss, moving his hand to the back of your neck to bring you even closer together. Meanwhile your hands moved up to cup his face, reveling in the feeling of his lips finally being on yours.

After a moment, you pulled away, needing to get some air, not being able to hide the giant smile on your face, which Fred mirrored.

“We’ll about time” Fred said, making you laugh before swatting his shoulder.

“You weren’t giving me many hints ya know” You defended.

“We’ll I didn’t know if you liked me or not! But now thanks to your amazing drawing skills I do” He said, making you smile.

“Well I’m glad you like it, even though its actually of George” You joked, causing Fred to make a horrified face

“It is not!” Fred said as you laughed hysterically.

“No Its you I’m kidding, George had much better hair” You said, continuing the joke before being tackled onto the couch, Fred poking your sides and making you laugh.

“Take it back!” Fred said, not letting up on the tickling attack as you tried to squirm away.

“Okay! Ok, your hair is better” You said, Fred finally stopping and looking at you, a smile on his face.

“That’s what I thought” Fred said, causing you to roll your eyes.

“You’re so full of it” You laughed

“Nah, you love me” Fred defended, a smile on his face.

“Its truly a curse” You replied, making Fred laugh before he ducked his head to re connect his lips to yours, the notebook now long forgotten on the floor.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I hope you liked it! I never know how to end these so sorry if the ending sucks lol. Feel free to leave any requests you may have!

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you

300 notes · View notes

heresyourramen · 4 years ago

Text

Firebird - Choi Yeonjun x (Fem) Reader

Part of the Hamratia Collaboration by @delicatewerewolfsoul and @sleepylixie.

The artist is Choi Yeonjun, Greek god is Apollo and the deadly sin, pride.

Genre: Greek mythology/ ballet school AU, Angst, villain YN.

Word Count: 11 305

Warnings: Mentions of injury, swearing, the word boobs once, backstabbing (because that's showbizz babyyy), Villain YN, the tiktok audio "gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss" comes to mind, and the crippling pressure of never being perfect that is often found in any sport.

Description: Cupid might never be a victor when apposing Apollo in archery but he had still managed to bring the Sun God to his knees with a single of his arrows.

and he will continue to torment him for his prideful claims, for Daphne's heart will forever be pierced by Cupids led arrow.

Yeonjun, a principle dancer at the Laurier School of Ballet, had a lot going for him, he was from a well respected family within the performing arts community and had been granted a scholarship many in the school would envy him for. Sadly he did have one thing that was not going in his favour a rather tragic and unsuccessful love life, riddled with beautiful woman and men, even the lovers of his closest friends.

Until he one day finds himself Infatuated with a prize he could not attain.

A Firebird.

Honestly you could never tell if Yeonjun was actually naïve or just played dumb.

Girls and boys flocked to him and he seemed to fawn over whom ever piqued his interest most but it never lasted longer than a month, or someone cheated on someone or the relationship ended out being a fiery crash of hatred and venomous bouts in hallways with wide eyed audiences. Somehow he always acted as if he had gotten the short end of the stick, for a week forlorn before another beauty of sorts would be the centre of his attention. Sweet melodies would once again come from where ever he worked, a soft tenor promising spring and love and hope.

You steered clear.

If it wasn't an emotional roller-coaster enough being a double major, his affections would seem to be. No, you'd much rather work on your stubborn unsupple hips and relevés you always get scolded for than listen to whatever hot mess he had going on.

And god was it a loud hot mess. Your headphones blasting Dua Lipa wasn't even drowning out the heated argument between Yeonjun and his dance partner, seated in the corner of the massive practice room by the only corner without mirrors and filled with shelves for bags you keep your eyes on anything but the pair. You turn to face Jungkook who stood stretching as well but with none of the concerns of being caught as he watches curiously a humoured smirk on his lips. You had been lucky enough to be paired with the groups teaching assistant, just as well you were sure half the boys in your class couldn't even lift you. He senses your stare and looks down at where your sat opening up your hips his smirk stretching to a full blown smile, great at least someone was enjoying this spectacle. A shame really that the two strongest dancers in the class were paired up together for the showcase that would double as evaluations, it meant none of the other junior dancers would stand a chance at impressing anyone but also it was a shame that they also happened to be exes. You huff a small sigh through your nose as you get up from the floor and remove the headphones to put in your bag and to pull out the black training tutu. Jungkook had suggested it considering the challenge of the chosen dance itself that from the start you get used to how it would affect your movements, when he'd announced that the firebird pas de deux you'd nearly spilt more than half your coffee on him. It was insane, you'd thought, you were much better suited for contemporary styles and the Modern Jazz ensemble but Jungkook was patient and understanding most of the time as well as stern when necessary and since the performance would also affect his station in the school you didn't argue. Your fingers guide it over your stockings and over your leotard before fiddling where it had bent funny or folded. You turn towards the door a scowl set on your face at who ever barged in, you had booked the studio for the next three hours no one was supposed to come watch you clumsily stumble into Jungkook's arms.

A boy stood in the door way, eyes wide as it landed on you, you recognised him from around campus a friend of Yeonjuns and a classmate Seo Changbin. He wasn't all that tall but his black t-shirt was stretched taught over a broad chest and big arms, gaze sharp even hidden under his long dark fringe that swept over his forehead and eyes. His gaze matched yours and the unimpressed frown he wore disappeared for only a moment as it fell on you softening slightly as he held up a hand in a small wave to you and your partner respectfully. You dip your head in a nod as greeting before another angry curse draws his attention and yours to the bickering couple.

"Yeonjun-ah!" his voice was loud and sharp enough to make the two dancers stop.

"We will be late for class AGAIN, if you don't move your annoyingly firm ass NOW!" Yeonjun's eyes flickered to the clock above the doorway his friend had just burst through and cursed under his breath before running towards you and Jungkook to grab his bags leaving his dance partner to angrily stomp her way after him. You sweep past them in a wide arc and into the centre of the room as you test out the silky pointes arching up onto your toes and back down as you wait for Jungkook to plug in his phone to the sound system and start the music. He turns and nods at you and you take a step towards the edge of the room aware of the curious gazes on your figures. You stand ready and as soon as the whirring clarinet starts you start your leaping entrance before a twirling arabesque. One thing you cursed Jungkook for was that he managed to choose a dance that had you constantly moving. The door shut and announced they'd left leaving you to fight your way through the next three hours of strenuous technicalities.

Yeonjun would've applauded himself for his dress of choice the baggy grey sweatpants he wore over his tights and tight black t shirt he'd been training in had made it possible to switch out his own ballet shoes for some Jordan's easily enough before Changbin could pull him out of the studio by his hair. They managed to slide into the back seats of the lecture hall for music theory just on time.

"What's the dancer that was waiting with Jungkook Sunbae for you two to stop squabbling's name again?" Changbin murmured his gaze transfixed to the page of his notebook as he doodled away trying to force himself into a state of calm.

"Who?" Yeonjun frowned he hadn't cared much for the pair that waited, he was fully distracted by the small mistakes that his partner was making and would cost him his place as top student and his scholarship no doubt. Changbin looked up at him, any ounce of sympathy for his crappy partner and whatever patience he had left dissipated into the stuffy air of the dark lecture hall, how could he have so little care for the people around him daily? He'd seen you in the hallways with either a massive canvas bag or a baggy sweater over a leotard and skirt and always with a tight slicked back bun that emphasized a deadly serious gaze that often rolled back at the sight of them or rather Yeounjun and whomever he had hanging onto him that day.

"Oh you mean Y/N ?" Yeonjun eyes widened innocently, with the realization. Changbin nodded and Yeonjun shrugged his gaze lowering along with his posture as he slid down to slump his tired body into his chair.

"What about her?"

"Well... aren't they in our class? What do you think their presentation will look like? " Changbin inquired curiously as he watched his friend shrug again his eyes still trained at the slideshow the teacher was babbling over.

"Jungkook is the teaching assistant but he'd managed to pair up with a sub-par ballet dancer, poor guy. Her ankles are weak and she's too contemporary, her theatricality is commendable but mostly just makes her routines seem sloppy, why?" Yeonjun said with a small tug at the corner of his lips as he swept the dark black tresses from his eyes that never left their pacing lecturer. Because of this he missed the way Changbins irritated smirk dropped away, his lips pulling into an ugly straight line, an expression that had started showing more recently. He would agree there was room for an improvement, but there was for everyone in their class even the principle beside him. His temper was on a very short leash with his friend as he watched his arrogance grow after every break up. Yeonjun's love life was tragic, truly, and he'd feel bad for his friends pitiful attempts at relationships if he wasn't such a goddamn prick about it. Yeonjun had managed to date many a girl or boy that even his friends had some sort of interest in, always managing it in a way that made it seem he couldn't help himself and Changbin was tired of it, exhausted not even getting a chance. That small little proud smirk was still stuck on his friends face when he inquired once more.

"Are you not in the slightest bit worried that they might manage to out stage you?" Yeonjun had to muffle his loud 'Ha' with a cough as he snickered to himself his friends gaze growing darker as his frown deepened.

"Of course not but its cute that you worry for me 'Bin." Yeonjun answered with a sweet smile and a pat on the shoulder before focusing back on the class.

That would be it, Changbin thought, Yeonjuns own pride would be his downfall.

He'd make sure of it.

"Hi! Y/N, right?" the strange voice announced its presence loudly from beside the studio door, you're startled enough to drop the empty water bottle and your history book. To tired to even worry about it, you simply raise your hands over your eyes and sigh deeply, brushing the few loose strands that had managed to escape from the the gel and hairpins during the the gruelling three hour training session out of your face. One would imagine after two weeks your body would be used to it but alas. Every part of you ached, actually it was a relief not holding that 10 ton excuse of a book and you knew if you didn't open your eyes right away you'd fall asleep right there standing. You let your arms fall to your sides and raise your eyes to the culprit who stood holding your bottle and book a soft concern gracing his dark features.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mind to startle you like that." He apologizes but doesn't make a move to hand you back your belongings.

"It's okay I'm pretty jumpy by nature." You wave him off not even attempting to muster the frustration you probably should have felt.

"Have you been training for the last couple of hours?" Changbins brow furrows and his eyes trail over your figure clad in some sweatpants and your training jumper. You nod slowly and pulling your phone out of your bag to check the time you'd ran over time, since no one had booked the slot for the studio after. Jungkook stepped out of the studio dark hair swept back as he pulled on his own black hoodie.

"Oh Jungkook, just who I'm looking for." Changbin says and he rests a soft hand on your elbow as he gently guides you out of the doorway his other still holding your stuff before falling away as he stands beside you

"Changbin Madame Jeong spoke to me earlier. Are you sure about swapping places?" Jungkook gets straight to the point, his brow furrowing. Changbin couldn't blame him, being evaluated on your dance ability and your ability to choreograph a piece from scratch was completely different.

"It's not like I have much choice, Tzuyu won't be back anytime soon with a torn ACL." Changbin hears your shocked gasp, and turns his head to observe your hand over your mouth and eyes wide at the shocking news. With classes being suspended for the rest of the semester and such a large group few people had known of her injury.

"What's going to happen now?" You ask eyes wide with concern as you look between the older man and your classmate.

"Jeong had suggested Changbin take my place in your performance and I participate in my own years evaluation." Jungkook said with an apologetic expression down at you, your tired features barely even managed a proper frown.

"What?"

"It's still a month and Changbin is one of the best dancers in the group, you'll be fine." Jungkook wore a guilty expression as he scratched the back of his head as he watched your shoulders hunch over, folding in on yourself as you start to slowly loose hope.

"Hey! Don't do that, you know I'll even come help out if you need me!" he grabs you by your shoulders and force you to look at him, he doesn't break the stare down until you nod. You were furious, not only was this inconvenient but it would effect the outcome of the rest of your studies at this school. But you couldn't even muster any of the energy you needed to be upset about it after a gruelling session.

"Whatever," You shake Jungkooks hands off your shoulders and take your stuff from Changbin who'd been watching the exchange with a nervous nibble at his plump bottom lip.

"We're doing Firebird, I'm sure Jungkook will inform you of how atrocious I am." You turn on your heal and walk away because honestly, fuck that shit.

"Hey I think we got off on the wrong foot I'm Cha-" Changbin stood leaning behind the studio door waiting for you to show up. You had contemplated not showing, because who cares at this point? Not Jungkook, not Changbin and certainly not that piece of work director Jeong.

"I know who you are, don't worry." You interrupt him as you fiddle with a hair pin that was practically indented into your skull with the way you had furiously stabbed it into the bun. Changbin to his credit musters the decency to look guilty.

"This isn't ideal for either of us but I have faith in us." Changbin says softly and you nearly bark a laugh in his face, you instead settle for a scoff. Yeah, sure he'd be fine he was a top student, technically near perfect almost better than Yeonjun only lacking the physical stature that would be needed to accommodate taller partners, where you're bottom tier at least in ballet, a charity case and no doubt a relief to be rid off, Jungkook was probably ecstatic knowing you weren't his responsibility anymore.

"Yeah, we'll see how you feel after the next three hours buddy." You pat him on his shoulder before brushing past him into the studio at 12 sharp. Changbin with a frustrated glower follow you, you weren't going to make this easy.

He steps in to the sound of Yeonjun's ex yelling at his friend and he can't help but feel a little better about this mess, he doubted you'd snap at him like that.

Your judgement was obvious, your face like an open book as you observed the pair going at each other. But it wasn't just disapproval, it was a corner of a lip tilted in a smile laced with pity. Changbin just wasn't sure if it was for Yeonjun or his partner.

He guessed it was the latter rather, by his past experience of being pinned with a scrutinious stare every time he was with his friend. You weren't part of the plan in anyway, in fact he really was praying to what ever immortal beings existed in the realms of the heavens the two of you would perform a passable performance at least, but there was always another way to throw Yeonjun of his game.

Love.

His ex was playing a big role in her reluctance to cooperate and he didn't even have to do much about it, in fact Changbin didn't have to do anything about it but that wouldn't be enough. It wasn't Yeonjuns first challenging partner, he'd manage, highly stressed but he'd still do his best.

"Changbin?" Your voice breaks his stare from the pair as they train through their rendition of Apollo and one of the muses dance and he notes that you're already in the black tutu over your not so traditional leotard. It wouldn't be a problem if the zip that ran down it's front was done up like most other students wore it. He swallowed hard, he didn't blame you, he'd heard that leotards were constricting, he just didn't realize it would do a better job than a push up bra.

"If you're done could we possibly get them out of here?" He doesn't miss the small smile that graces your features before turning around to face the mirrors and finish your stretching. Changbin clears his throat as he quickly changes out of his sneakers.

"Yeonjun, times up!" His voice booms over the music and shocks you enough to come up from the back bend you'd been stretching in, unwinding a supple arch until you're stood straight again, only to be met with a different sharp gaze from under black strands. Yeonjuns dark eyes are trailing over your torso as he makes his way over towards his bag, you keep your face straight as your fingers find the zip on your front, you taunt him a small drag down, his tongue sliding over his full bottom lip, before zipping it all the way up. You keep yourself from laughing at the way the softest pink dusts his cheeks and his eyes divert as you pass him, you'd think they'd never seen a pair of boobs before the way these boys were acting.

"You ready?" Changbin calls over, his brow raised. He hadn't missed the brief exchange and you meet his gaze.

"I am, but do you know the choreography?" Your brows raise and Changbin gives you a smug little smirk as answer and starts the music.

"ohmygod you're worse than Jungkook!" You babble. You swear you can hear your hips breaking as Changbin pushes down through his arms keeping your knees on the worn hardwood floor. Solid, warm muscle is pressing into your back as he leans over you.

"Stop complaining it's only a few more seconds." He huffs out, but when you tilt your head up you're met with a grin through your watery eyes. The timer goes off and you suck in a deep breath as Changbin lets you relax out of the pose. The session had been hard, he'd managed to point out technicalities that Jungkook had managed to miss or rather chose to ignore when he suggested cooldown your legs nearly gave out, it was outrageous the best modern dance program at a fucking ballet school. You weren't built for this. You lie back with a huff and watch as Changbin sets another timer.

"More?" This was crazy and he shakes his head with playful grin.

"It's only helping you." He points out and takes your now sweatpants clad legs and straighten them out for you before taking one ankle and pushing it up and towards your chest. This isn't nearly as difficult but it was uncomfortable. His arm that wasn't holding your leg was pushing your hips down to assure it from lifting and although he was sat kneeling between your legs he was still half hanging over your face. Sharp cologne, mixed with sweat was filling your airways and a thin silver chain dangled from around his neck as his he watched you. You clear your throat and head of all of your inappropriate thoughts.

"How'd you know the choreography?" You ask softly but jot your chin out just a little to assert yourself more.

Changbin smiles down at you. The last three hours had been the most time he'd spent with you, in the last two years and he couldn't help himself, he enjoyed your company. Your confidence, your focus and drive. Your being aware of yourself, wo you are and your bold assertion of it had made him more comfortable than intimidated.

"Jungkook and I ran through it last night after you threw a temper tantrum and ran off." He watches your eyes roll dramatically ready to snap back at him with something sarcastic or mean but he doesn't give you the chance too.

"I'm also pretty familiar with it, I've done parts of it before." Your mouth closes and brows knit in a frown at the interruption and he chuckles at the expression. His fingers trail along your calve softly as he sits back and releases his grip on your ankle to do the same with the other one. But when he leans back over you his face is serious, brows drawn pensively together and lips in an angry line. You leave it, to tired to pry.

"Y/n... I- what would you do if I made a proposition?" His sharp stare flicks from where it was staring at the floor and to your face and you squirm slightly.

"Depends, what's in it for me?" Your voice is low as each of you regard the other with hesitancy.

"An A+." Changbin answered and you laughed.

"You're funny."

"Y/N. I'm serious." You settle down and he pins you with a determined stir.

"I want to beat Yeoujun. I want his scholarship, and I want principle." Your eyes widen at that. You didn't have much against Yeonjun besides the fact that he was annoying and reeked of talent but did nothing with it.

"That's a little harsh isn't it? I get principle but the scholarship? Aren't you guys friends?" You inquire curiously and Changbin lowers his head to avoid your gaze. When he looks back up his tongue is stuck in his cheek as he grins.

"You'd think? Either way he sure as hell doesn't fucking act like it." He says it with a little bitter chuckle. The two of you sit in that loaded silence, filled with secrets, and revenge and jealousy for a moment just staring at the other.

"What do you say?" He's leaning closer and his words just above a whisper as he continues to regard you a moment longer, eyes flickering over your face trying to read your expression the tension was palpable if you stuck out the tip of your tongue you'd taste it and Changbins lips.

The glass doors click open.

"Am I interrupting something?" A familiar voice calls and dripping with smugness. Changbin watches as you roll you eyes and sits back with a little smile as he lets go of your leg and ankle. Yup, definitely the right candidate.

You sit up from the floor and look over at the door where Yeonjun is leaning a little grin on his face as he takes in the sight of the two of you, Changbin idly resting in between your thighs.

"It's called stretching, I'm sure you've heard of it before. You know, being a ballet dancer and all?" Changbin retorts and helps you to stand. His hand rests softly in the small of your back and gives it a soft pat to nudge you towards your bags. You zip the leotard down again, so you can breathe and fiddle your phone out of your bag to check the time and slip your feet into your sneakers. You still had 20 minutes of your session left, how rude.

"She joining us?"

"I can hear you." You voice is sharp as you basically rip your bag off the ground and walk towards them. You pause beside Changbin shifting your weight to one side as you cross your arms over your chest and let your eyes wander over Yeonjun's figure, tall and strong and delicate features, gender envy if you've ever seen it. God he was perfect, so hopelessly beautiful and and torturously seductive, strong figure dressed in a white shirt taught across his chest and sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips.

"I'll do it." You turn your head and face Changbin who tries his best to hide his panic.

"What? Join us for dinner?" Yeonjun scoffed.

"Oh, how lovely I've been upgraded from object to person worth addressing directly. No, I would rather not join. " You retort and turn to face Changbin and soften your features in a smile as you let your hand rest on the tan skin of his bicep. The same one that had effortlessly lifted you into the hair for two hours as if you were air.

"I'll text you."

Yeonjun watches you with an aghast smile as you push past and waltz out of the doors.

"Quite the partner you got there." Changbin had been watching your figure through the glass doors and smiled to himself.

"Sure is."

The door clicked shut behind them and Changbin tossed the hood of his black hoodie over his still slightly damp hair as they made their way out of the building.

"How's your training going?" Changbin inquired out of courtesy. Yeonjun had been breezing through the almost abandoned school hallways beside him almost without a worry.

"I think she'll claw my eyes out, maybe it'll be a good thing, then I can't see all the mistakes she's making." Yeonjun huffed his arms that he'd stretched up and above over his head flopping to his sides on frustration and Changbin laughed a little at that.

"How about you?"

"It's only been a day, but she's really not as bad as you make her seem. I've never met someone who works so hard in something she won't need." Changbin shoved his hands into his pockets as they make their way across the parking lot.

It was true. Despite your complaints about stretching, you'd let him run you through every part of the routine without any reluctance. Everytime he stopped and restarted, picking at a millisecond misstep, a finger a touch out of place, or an arm not soft enough, you'd let him do so without even so much as slight glimpse of reluctance. You'd take the critisism and focus on improving every single time, Jungkook had also managed to pick a character that suited your theatricality Yeonjun had previously criticised you for. You had even managed a lack of reaction at his fumbling in the different lifts, patiently letting him get used to it.

"That doesn't always make you good." Yeonjin pointed out as Changbin unlocked his car. Changbin had to keep himself from trying to rip his driver side door off at the sudden comment. Instead he takes a moment to pause as he leans against the car roof.

"What? Was that a little harsh?" Yeonjun said in a rather insincere tone from across the car roof.

"Get in the car." Changbin grumbles in answer.

"Forget about the evaluation for a second." Changbin mumbles through a mouthful of burger. It wasn't the best dietary choice but it had been a while he'd worked so hard for such a long duration of time, not because he had to make up for what you lacked but because your determination to do well fuelled him to do the same. Yeonjin was eating away at a plate of fries and looked up at his friend curiously.

"What do you think of YN?" Yeonjun pauses slightly.

There was no denying it, there wasn't many dancer's like you at Laurier, there was actually no other dancers like you. You were an enigma. Few would suffer through years of dance programs that weren't related to their focus, or even suffer through entrance exams in forms that weren't trained just to follow their dreams. Besides that, you held a seductive air, it was part of your muscular, curvier build that many of the female ballet dancer's lacked. You were stronger, your leaps and jumps far higher than most of the female student body and closely matching some of the boys in the classes best even. Your eyes were definitely what had caught Yeonjun's attention but not because they were a particular colour. Rather it was the firey emotion that constantly burned in them. You were passionate. Whenever his eyes met your sharp gaze he saw flames burn, gold and warm. And he'd be lying if he didn't say he envied it, just a little.

"She's pretty."

Changbins brow raises as if implying, that's all?He knew Yeonjun to well and there was clearly more to the loaded statement.

"Fine, she's more than pretty, but does that really matter? Let's be honest neither of us have been big on locker room talk 'bin." Yeonjun says pointedly and Changbin nods pensively gazing up at the ugly florescent lighting in the dingy diner. He guessed that's maybe why Yeonjun had swiped Felix out of his grasp in an instant. Because Yeonjun never cared much to discuss whom his friends might be interested in. Either way, Changbin doesn't see Felix around anymore unless he passes by a room scheduled for the younger groups ballet sessions.

"I guess you're right. I'm just asking, because I like her shitty attitude and I know most of the girls are stuck up but her words have a bite to it that I think makes her different." Changbin says out loud and steals a fry from his friend who looks him on affronted. But the words are heavy on his ears. Yes the bite, fire. Yeonjun thought, fire that burns red and angry.

"You have the weirdest taste."

"Yah, we have the same taste so don't go around insulting me just yet." Changbin said and tossed a piece of lettuce at Yeonjun but it fell short next to his plate instead.

"Yeah well, you're on your own this time." Yeonjun scoffed and wore half smirk as he picked up the glass of ice water.

"Are you sure?" Changbin said softly his sharp chin resting on his hands as he stared at his friend, eyes narrowed. Yeonjun didn't like it. Like he knew that it was a desperate dismissal of obvious attraction. His critique of your horrible technique and inexperience was something he's used to brush off his crush in his first year at the school because how could you ever be what he wanted ? You sucked and had no friends, in all honesty you were extremely bad then and he couldn't help but wonder how the fuck you made it all the way to third year evaluation.

"I think you're lying." Changbin said with a tiny smirk one that most definitely had the devil hiding behind it.

"I don't think you just happened to remember her name Yeonjun." Changbin said and chuckled as he pulled his wallet out and dug out some cash that he put on the table to cover their dinner.

"You're delusional." Yeonjun hissed and shot him a glare as he collected his bag and hoodie. Changbin was halfway to the door when he turned to face his friend again.

"And you're a terrible liar."

The atelier was empty except for the three of you. The blonde was tall and lanky, built like a dancer himself but here you were, at a fashion school. When Changbin said he knew someone who could help with costumes you hadn't expected this. You hadn't expected him to drag you halfway across the city in a really nice car on a Saturday morning, picking you up with a bag filled with a white tutu in your size and some craft items to take you out to a completely different art school.

"Changbin, I hate you."

"Come on! Hyunjin you have a costume design practical next semester and all you have to do is decorate a to and spray paint a white tutu red." Changbin tried to reason but the tall, handsome man remained unimpressed.

"I hate you." Hyunjin seems to stand his ground as he stares down his shorter friend, you bite down on your lip at the exchange and your eyes widen slightly as his glare lands on you.

"But I'll do it. Only since I'm poor and you're paying rich boy." Hyunjin held up a finger before dramatically sweeping long blonde hair out of his face. You feel a sigh of relief pass through your lips for some reason.

"Also your partner is stunning." Hyunjin said with a vapid flap of his one hand in the direction where you sat. You raise your brows and smile as Changbin shoots you a quick pained glare, "You'll have to give me her number so I can use her as a model in the future for a few projects."

You sit up a little straighter at the sound of that, Chin tilting up proudly. It wasn't that you were insecure, that wasn't the case at all. It was just that you were constantly in an environment were the bone thin and light ballet dancer was the beauty ideal and you didn't match it. It was nice, getting out and being reminded that you're most definetly an enviable beauty for some.

"We'll do fittings at your school next week." Hyunjin huffed as he pulled out the things Changbin had brought along.

"Really?" Hyunjin holds up a black t shirt and Changbin shrugs.

"You're supposed to be a prince, I can't just make you un upgraded t-shirt!"

"I would like to state for the record, that I said that too." You raise your hand and Hyunjin slaps Changbin over the back of the head and you snicker that you hide behind a cough.

"Why won't you listen to her? You're a real piece of work." Hyunjin shakes his head and lets out a frustrated huff before pulling the measuring tape around his neck and using a finger to tell Changbin to turn.

"It won't do, I'll make you a proper coat." Hyunjin started taking Changbins measurements, wen he said a number out loud you jumped realizing he was expecting you to write it down for him. You scramble and make your way over to the book on the table beside them writing down the numbers for him.

"Thank you for being such a wonderful assistant." Hyunjin says and his warm smile has your own lips tugging upwards.

"Anytime." you assure him and he surprises you as he takes your hand and plants a soft kiss on your knuckles before turning to face his friend.

"You. If you ever try to bring me a t-shirt and think you're overthrowing a prince with it again, I will choke you." Hyunjin scolds and you raise a brow at the title curiously.

"Prince?"

"Yes, its a nickname we gave Yeonjun since he has everything." Hyunjin explained.

"Everything?" You push and Hyunjin looks over at Changbin who gives a nod of encouragement.

"Yeonjuns always been a talented dancer and well, his family is pretty well off being some of the largest investors in the art community but he also has that wonderful scholarship that his dads company has at the school."

"It's his fathers company?" That was news to you, probably because you didn't have any friends to gossip with at the school.

"And everyone's okay with it?" You ask, your face unable to hide your obvious disgust.

"Well whats anyone going to do about it? Talk to Jeong? He's her prodigy." Hyunjin reasoned.

"But the students...", You try to reason and Changbins shake of his head shuts you up.

"Don't care, everyone wants to be his friend, fuck him or already has."

"On that solemn note, please leave so I can offer up my free time to this nightmare of a project." Hyunjin shoo's the two of you out.

Once you're buckled in the seat of the passenger side of Changbins car you wait patiently as he fiddles with the buttons on the stereo.

"What's your plans for today?" Changbin asks and you shrug.

"I don't have any, unless you want to train. In which case I'm fully booked." You can't help your smile as he cackles brightly.

"Wanna do something? I mean we haven't really had time to discuss any of our uh, approaches?" Changbin struggles to fine a subtle way to say revenge plot and this time its your turn to laugh.

"What did you have in mind?" Changbin grins and starts his car as an answer.

"Changbin I can't afford anything on this menu." You hiss with wide eyes and he waves you off, as if you weren't struggling to do the maths that would keep you from compromising your already strictly ramen noodle diet.

"It's my treat then." You can't help the grimace, what was it with these super rich art school kids. You sit back in the to nice chair and stare at his eyes wandering the menu.

"Why me?" His brows dip in question. "Why did you ask me to help you with the Yeonjun issue?"

An acknowledging nod signals his understanding but he's still quiet for a moment to long.

"Your a bit of an odd case. You seem to severely dislike him and well you are something he can't have."

"Please continue." He puts his menu down on the white table cloth gently before resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

"The Choi's, as lovely and charitable as they are, expect perfection perhaps not from everyone but definitely from their son." You sit upright in your seat, curiosity piqued.

"You aren't exactly what is considered to be daughter-in-law material and that's not because you aren't pretty enough because lets be honest you're gorgeous. It's simply because you aren't part of the family's close friends, specifically one of the shining stars." You can't help the blush tinting your cheeks at the compliment mid explanation and Changbin notices despite the extremely soft lighting casting a glow on everything, enough to give you a small smile and a coy head tilt.

"Yeonjun doesn't have a lot of options but his romantic escapades," Changbin breathes out a humourless chuckle, "Let's just say, that's how he rebels."

"That still doesn't explain my unattainability?" You raise a brow and sit back in your seat again.

Changbin reaches over the table, careful of the vase filled with bright orange flowers and takes one of your hands softly in his own, the action was odd but not enough to alarm you.

Yet.

"Yeonjun always wants to be the best and for a while, actually, too long he has been." Changbins eyes are trained on your hand, having turned it over so he could trace the folds and lines of your palm with his fingers.

"Y/N, it takes one simple challenge. A suggestion that he might not be the best and his pride would rule him. He'd be so focused on proving everyone that his station is deserved, that he is in fact the best, that he'd be to blind to see his own downfall coming."

"He assumes that everyone has placed him on the same pedestal that he had placed himself on his entire life, so that the idea of someone not doing so doesn't exist to him."

Changbin looks up from your hand dark glare trained on your face.

"You don't like him, and he can't believe it."

"You like me more, would rather be partnered with anyone but him?"

You nod slowly to confirm that Changbins observation is correct.

"He can't have that. He'll become obsessed with proving that you're wrong in doing so." Changbins gaze is back on your palm, his soft tracing sending a ghost of shivers down your spine.

"So not only aren't you what his parents expect but you also seem to have a solid dislike for him. It wasn't the plan, honestly." Changbin looks up at you hand squeezing yours now as if it would convey his promise as truthful.

"But it sure is convenient." You say lowly and he nods, suddenly not so sure about how good of an idea it was asking for help. He wasn't sure if the blank mask you wore could because of inner turmoil, for all he knew his explanation could have completely changed your mind in helping him out. He lets go of your hand, sliding his own back slowly his eyes fixed on your face waiting for your next reaction. What it would be, what he was waiting for he didn't know but it certainly wasn't what he had expected.

The soft chuckle wasn't unwelcome but it was definitely confusing.

"Wow, how does that saying go? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Yeonjun took that pretty seriously, huh?" Changbin doesn't fail to see the irony.

"Don't get me wrong, we were friends and in some twisted way I'm sure we still are."

"But?"

"But I'm tired of losing to him." Changbin slinks back into his seat hands off the table and falling helplessly to his lap.

You encourage him to continue by pouring water from the jug on the table into his glass as if its a stiff drink, like the one he seems to need.

"There was this one guy. Fuck, was it bad. He's sweet and his cheeks would squish up and make it impossible to count the freckles that was all over his cheeks and nose. I wasn't even crushing, I practically skipped that whole step and boy did I make it obvious." He was sitting back up and he wore a half assed grin one that held more than its fair share of sadness.

"No one missed it, so either Yeonjun was impossibly blind or clearly was trying to make a point." Changbin resorted to finally reaching for his glass of water but simply opted for staring at the droplets running down the side of the glass.

"So he swooped in, charmed the living daylights out of him before I could blink, promptly broke his heart and now Felix doesn't speak to any of us anymore."

"Felix? As in Felix Lee?" The description Changbin had given wasn't terribly subtle, but it was still somewhat of a surprise.

"Yeah and unfortunately my friend didn't just betray me he broke my heart without even thinking about it twice or having the decency of asking if my puppy dog eyes meant something."

The revenge plot was starting to make sense and as much as you didn't like Yeonjun, Changbin might've let it slip that his opinion of your ballet abilities wasn't the highest. Of course sticks and stones, but you couldn't help growing fond of Changbin a bit of a Dark cloud that hid a bundle of charm and softness that had seeped past your cold exterior. Dammit you'd even consider him a friend, your first at Laurier.

He was still clearly worried that whatever it was he was planning you'd say no too, weary glances from his hands on his glass to you. You offer him a small grin to soothe his worries.

"Oh don't worry, you still have me in your corner Binnie." You say gently before sitting forward. "Now, what's the plan exactly?"

Yeonjun watched as your hair followed with your twirls, the red and gold feathers bouncing along with the tutu as you playfully one two stepped into a pirouette with a big smile, your eyes alight with joy as you giggled. The pretty glimmering costume sparkled brightly and he couldn't help but think that your smile seemed blinding in comparison. He'd never seen it before, such happiness coming from you while doing ballet. Granted, you were doing a terrible job at practicing proper technique or steps but the freely stepping to releve and the flowing of your arms with the glittering feather arm bands made you truly seem like a firebird, free and joyous and beautiful.

Changbin was right the character suited you and perhaps he had maybe judged your talents as a dancer too harshly.

Your playful twirls excited grins and entertained light hearted chuckles from your audience, Hyunjin even going so far as to give you applause for your impromptu show.

"Okay, okay. Come here pretty girl so we can check that the feathers don't come off or it gets in the way." Changbin stood up his coat black coat with the golden embellishments and lapels open over his white t shirt and he held out his hand for you to except. With a playful tug he pulled you into his chest where you giggled softly. Changbin held you in a couple of releve twirls before the two of you got serious as the two of you turned serious and he manoeuvred around the costume you to lift you as previously practiced.

Jealousy, it bubbled up inside of Yeonjun like a black sticky tar at the sight of you and one of his closest friends so comfortable with each other, in synchronization as if you two had known each other for years and not only two or three weeks.

This crush, or at least the acknowledgement was becoming dangerous. He was starting to fall back into his regular patterns, the ones he knew all to well. Looking for a specific head of hair in a crowd, a black zipped down leotard, eyes that burned with hellfire, without even thinking about it, second nature almost. He was on a downhill drop to being absolutely infatuated and this new version of you, free and happy it was only stoking the hearth in his heart. It wasn't helping his cause.

For once he felt like he'd lost to Changbin.

Be it because he knew you so well, or because he had the burden of being your partner or perhaps because he was the one to witness your joy or perhaps instigate it.

He'd never really been sure what incited your icy exterior and furious glares in his direction. He'd avoided you for most years but now he was wondering if rather it was the other way around and why it was bothering him that you would.

He'd never considered himself to be narcissistic and yet, what would force you of all people to stay so far away from him? Few who weren't exes and even then few of those actively tried to avoid Yeonjun in the way he was quickly piecing together that you had. Finally it would seem you were in arms reach, not so far away. Changbin was his link to you now, he might just have a shot at pulling you closer, pulling you towards him, the same way you had started pulling him towards you.

The night had started off wild,with too many beers and too many soju bottles littering the countertop of Wooyoungs apartment when the three of them left. That it was crazy getting more when they met up with a few other s but he didn't realize it would result in this.

"Yeonjun whats your deal man?" Wooyoung said bright smile and cheerful giggle following after as he slung an arm over his much taller friends shoulders and pulled him into a hug, never scared of affection but it was too much. It was a lot with the buzz and the loud music and the smoke filled air.

"I don't have a deal." Yeonjun grumbled but didn't even try to shove his friend off of him.

"He's just mad that my dance partner doesn't like him." Changbin said with a teasing lilt but that obnoxious little smirk was rubbing him wrong. This time he did shove Wooyoungs arm off of him as he stepped closer and peered down at Changbin, bare of the grin he'd previously worn. He wasn't tilting his head back to meet Yeonjuns stare no instead e simply looked up through his lashes his dark glare daring Yeonjun to do what he so desperately wanted too, knowingly.

"Admit it, you're jealous." Changbin said softly the same smirk growing as he knew his words hit true to their mark. He could tell by the way Yeonjun stiffened.

"You can't have her, she doesn't want you." His words were barely a whisper but the way Yeonjuns anger was zeroing in on his friend, blocked out all other sounds, "And nothing you do will change her mind."

"Because she doesn't care and guess what? You aren't as fucking great as you think you are." Yeonjun shoved Changbin back and was ready to swing when someone pulled him back to no avail as he stepped closer to Changbin who promptly stopped him from landing any hits as he took a hold of his wrists before both of them were promptly ripped apart.

"Go cool off!" Wooyoung practically pushed Yeonjun into one of their other friends who was standing behind him as he pulled him away from Changbin who was steadied with a firm hand on Wooyoungs chest .

"Go!" Wooyoung voiced again, louder and Yeonjun ripped himself away as he shoved his way through the thick crowd.

This place had been playing tricks on his mind since he got here, what had brought Changbin to suggesting this place from their usual spots?

The energy was strange here, it was something other from just dancing in the air. No here, the thickness of lust and sex seemed to hang in the air. It was starting to make him act up in ways he never would've dreamed of.

Yeonjun swept the cold water over his face. This was outrageous he'd never even thought of picking a fight with Changbin at least not physically. He breathed out sigh before sweeping the damp black tresses and back out of his face he straightened only to be met by the sight of you. He must be really drunk to be hallucinating now. He blinked hard and realized that it wasn't a hallucination. A bright yellow fish darted across his vision and his brain caught up with his vision. The men's room was separated from the women's by a bright fish tank, one that stretched its length glowing bright and filled with an array of both large and small colourful fish.

You haven't noticed him, eyes trained on the small compact in your hand as you reapplied the lipstick shade you had selected to wear for the evening.

It wasn't love at first sight. No, he'd seen you before, on numerous different occasions but now...

The sight of you sobered him up more than the cool water ever could, hair that was usually pulled back now framing your face, figure graced in a short white dress , with a generous neckline much like that leotard you favoured, the golden lighting above the individual sinks lighting up your skin made you glow.

It definitely wasn't love but something had changed, maybe it was him finally admitting his pining for you.

Your eyes caught his as soon as you snapped the compact shut, not a hint of surprise dawning on your features.

Instead you hold his stare as you put everything back into your small clutch a ghost of a smile on your face as you step back from the glass and walk away, only breaking the silent battle when the door hides your figure.

Yeonjun darts out of the bathroom and immediately seeks the figment of his imagination his head must of conjured because it was impossible, that you'd appear here, in the midst of all his way to high strung out emotions. He caught a glance of your figure sashaying through the crowds that seemed to move aside at the meer sense of your presence, everyone making space for you as you pass, to afraid to even graze themselves against you. Yeonjun squeezes through the gyrating figures, tall long body squeezed out and pushed out of the way, his idea to follow in your wake becoming exceptionally difficult with each surge of the bass and bright flare of light. White strobes creating stop motion images of the people dancing around him.

As he finally escapes the dancefloor he spots your figure leaning up against the bar, Changbin leaning over it as he whispers something in your ear that tempts a beautiful grin to your lips. Yeonjun immediately pushes away the ugly head of anger that threatened to instigate another fight and plastered on a smirk before sliding in beside the pair of you.

It was strange seeing him through the fish tank damp black strands hanging over his heavy lidded eyes and pouty lips parted aghast. You'd never seen him in anything other than sweats or dance clothes, you would be lying if you didn't say the white muscle tank didn't look good on him, long lean arms, toned enough that as he leaned against the sink you could see the way the muscles in his shoulders moved and now you could see he had paired it with some black jeans that came up high enough to accentuate his enviably tiny waist.

"Changbin, sorry for interrupting but I'd like to invite Y/N to the dancefloor?" His eyes stayed glued to your face and you dared a glance towards Changbins whos dark analytical gaze encouraged you to play the game.

"And why would I dance with you?" You tease, acting coy as you fiddle a strand of hair around your index finger he bites as he leans closer with his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Well I don't believe we've ever had the pleasure of being partners and well it might be best in a space you'd be comfortable." He leans back with a grin one that so obviously says he's proud of his little insult.

"Is that so?" You barely keep the snappiness out of your tone as you glare him down. Yeonjun tries to suppress the chills the look is giving him. You hand your purse over to Changbin and walk past him a shove at his shoulder, your heels making you tall enough to dare the push without it seeming pathetic. Yeonjun chuckles incredulous before turning on his heels to catch up with your long strides, by the time he's close enough to reach you he realizes you've managed to find people that seem to be your own friends judging by their friendly smiles and the way they made space for you the song the DJ was currently playing resembled dance hall and all though he was aware that his mind severely undersold your dancing abilities he wasn't expecting the sight in front of him. With not a single care for the shortness of the dress or the vulgarity of the moves your hips seemed to lead your body in a seductive rhythm that had Yeonjun staring even if he was sure it was inappropriately. Every time you caught his eyes, your grin told him he'd lost. He didn't even stand a chance to start with. He would've had better luck in the dance studio.

It felt good, a different kind of thrill. Shutting him up even if it was for just a little while, especially after you heard what his opinion was of your dancing ability.

He trailed you back to the bar and with a defeated smile watched you order a drink.

"I have severely underestimated you, I apologize." Yeonjun says with that same small grin and a shake of his head and you beam.

"Apology accepted." You chuckle and brush your hair out of your face as you watch him.

"I really messed up." Yeonjun bites down on his bottom lip and you force your eyes away from his plump pouty lips to his eyes.

"Yes you did." You agree and he chuckles brightly and loudly.

"I meant," He steps closer, leaning down lips brushing up against your ear as he lowers his voice,"If I had just been honest with myself, you might have been doing those moves on me." He pulls back and your head is a whirlwind of thoughts. Honest with himself? What was that supposed to mean? Either way it didn't matter, your stomach and well other parts of your body were fluttering dangerously at the implications of his words. Your drink arrives and so does Changbin who saddles up to your side comfortably, his arm wrapping around your waist and you let him so you can lean into his strong body and take some pressure of your feet in their heels. Yeonjuns gaze darkens.

"I'm happy we came, this place is way cooler than the uptight clubs we always go to." Changbin announces and Yeonjuns brow dips, he didn't think this place was all that great but judging by the sweat that was dotting his friends forehead, the music and his chosen partners were the reasons behind his high praise.

Your butterflies still hadn't calmed and the alcohol made you dare the chance.

"You finally ready to be my dance partner properly?" You shoot a grin in Yeonjuns direction, one he missed because he was busy staring at Changbins arm around your waist.

"Yeonjun?" You call and it finally seems to click you were talking to him.

"Of course." He dares a grin and bows slightly as he offers his hand formally, you scoff and with a roll of your eyes take the hand offered. He laces his fingers through yours and pulls you away from Changbin's grip only letting go to hold your hands up so you could spin.

One thing you realized, Yeonjun was a sore loser. He'd stepped into your space as the songs continued to switch through the mix list, this only resulted in him proving his own ability to follow a beat in time with your movements. Pressed closer together the air only got stickier, and you could feel the cold drops of sweat running down your spine as time was lost to you and apparently all form of rational thought too. It was only when a tender but heavy kiss found the back of your neck that you realized, you were dancing with the enemy in a way that could possibly have you arrested for public indecency. You took a step away and turned steeling your gaze so you didn't look like the deer in headlights you had suddenly become.

Because as much as shutting Yeonjun up was fun this was making you want to find out if there was other ways to have fun with him, you couldn't promise yourself you wouldn't end up in a more compromising position with him and that was definitely not the plan. You eye him for a moment his surprised expression, hair hangning in his eyes or matted against his forehead, in a similar manner to how the white tank was sticking to his chest hand reaching out to grab your hand again. You press past a couple and dissapear back to the bathroom.

So this was how people got swept up in the hurricane Yeonjun was. Distracted by the pretty lashes, sharp eyes that devoured you whole and those terribly soft lips. Ghosts of his fingers ran over your body, everywhere he had dared to touch so surely, the spot on the back of your neck burning at the memory of the kisses weight. You dared a look into the floor length mirror parallel to the door you'd rushed through. He'd left you a mess, sticky with sweat and smudged mascara around your eyes, breathless and hair messy. You couldn't help but wonder what power it is he possessed to so easily dishevel your appearance. You purposefully rub at the dark circles under your eyes and dare to pat some cold water to your neck to collect yourself before entering the fray again. It wasn't hard to find him, your body now drawing towards him like a magnet as if he was the sun, tugging you into his atmosphere, but the body plastered to him quickly stops you. Life had a lovely way of reminding you why you'd avoided the beauty, his gravitational pull always seemed to have room for more. With a scoff and a reality check you press your way towards the man that still had your bag. Changbin was stuck in a booth with some other friends your purse on the table in front, whomever he'd been dancing with earlier nowhere to be seen.

"I'm leaving." Changbin shoots up as you grab your purse.

"I'll come with you." He insists and just as you're ready to politely decline a voice interrupts.

"Y/N?" Yeonjun is beside you a hand on your shoulder, brows furrowed as if concerned but a quick peak over his shoulder makes you aware the guy he'd found wasn't hanging to far off . You shrug of his hand and fix your eyes on Changbin.

"That'd be great." Changbin follows after you, hand on the small of your back as the pair of you trail towards the exit leaving Yeonjun to watch after with an empty pang in his chest. He tried to will his feet to move after you but it didn't instead, he stood glued eyes following over the crowd as Changbin accompanied you out the door with his arm around your shoulder and you tucked into his side.

Yeonjun had been left to observe you from far away for the final week before the showcase, in passing when you came in to the studio with Changbin after his own practice slot. You didn't acknowledge his presence, instead focusing on the music or your practice tutu or your pointes instead of him.

But he chalked it down to you simply trying to focus on what was to come.

When he finally did get to see you it was minutes before your peformance, dressed in gold and red. Hair slicked back and a headband of red and gold feathers over it, even with the light from the stage you glowed, shimmered with beauty and charm as you warmed up, smiling at the stage hands that passed you. He came up beside you and for the first time in a week your eyes fell on him.

"YN, I just wanted to say goodluck and well I was wondering if when we could go dancing together again?" Yeonjun was leaning up against the bar you were busy stretching on.

You laugh soft enough to not bother the other performance but still full and hearty, Yeonjun raises a brow he hadn't said anything funny.

"Sorry its just, well you must be blind." Yeonjun takes a step back as he watches her lips quirk upwards. It was just the two of them and the stage hands, Changbin was in the other wing waiting for the curtains for the rendition of the dance of the snowflakes to end. No one to witness the mask that seemed to fall away from the beautifully painted face.

"You know at first I was jealous of you. Perfect, you. With the perfect scholarship, not that you need it because of your daddy. Then I was angry because how could you waste time like that and still be so good. Well now...", Firey eyes ringed with read eyeshadow and golden flakes, disdainfully drags over his figure from head to toe.

"Now I'm just disappointed."

"Yeonjun I hate you, but not because you ever even had the chance to break my heart because lets be honest I'm not half as dumb as you think." You stop stretching as you step closer towards him where he was now frozen in place.

"No, I hate you because you have everything, all that you'd need to be the best but you're to distracted to ever reach your full potential."

"I don't need this, I'm a modern dancer, to contemporary for the genre anyway. I don't give a fuck about Jeong." Yeonjun sucks in a breath not at the crass words but rather the quotation of his own critique of your abilities, "... but you, you're her little prodigy and you have to do well, you have a scholarship and a family name that you need to maintain. My inability to be perfect means nothing. " You brush an invisible dust particle off his exposed shoulder before continuing.

"Your imperfections though, every single little mistake, every little misstep everyone out there will be looking for exactly that, they're waiting for your downfall and me?" You look up at him blazing eyes staring at him from behind bright red eyeshadow, "well, I'm praying for it."

Even if Yeonjun wasn't speechless he wouldn't have been able to actually retaliate because a 30 second call was made for your stage. Your grin didn't falter in fact it grew to the big stage smile every dancer wore while performing as you turned away from his figure as the pair on stage passed by you at the entrance of the wing you were waiting in. The lights on the stage lit up as Changbin entered the stage, the black velveten coat and golden decorations glimmered under the light bright and bold, but it casted a bright glow around your figure, lighting up the red and gold feathers of your tutu in a warm light only growing brighter as you started your dance onto the stage. Yeonjun eyes were glued to you, the performance that of which was visible from where he stood taking his breath away. It might've been the lack of oxygen or perhaps it was shock, the fogginess that clouded the edges of his vision as his eyes followed the soft movements of your arms, the bounce of the tutu as you leaped through the air, even the arch of your spine as Changbin hoisted you up and over his head, held you in his arms time and time again as the battle of freedom between the firebird an he prince commenced. He saw the pretty picture of sorrow and torment as the Firebird fought to break free and the prince with his own battle of caging the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in and ultimately be the cause of its death. The longing on the prince's face as she disappears and leaves him with only a single mark of her, a red feather.

It's only then he feels the insistent tug of his partner at his arm, trying to pull him closer towards the exit of the wing for his own performance. Yeonjun tried to force himself to focus but his eyes landed on the pair a moment before walking onto the stage. Your body was being squeezed in a joyous hug, Changbin cheering silently as he spun you around, your own smile was bright, big and effervescent. Blinding just like the stage lights that obscured the audience, even the front row he knew was reserved for lecturers and special guests. He could only hear the blood rushing in his ears that's probably why he missed the first few counts. He was behind now, muscle memory kicking in but never being enough to chase the fog far enough to catch up but only to make him more aware of the battle he was fighting to get back on beat. His body wouldn't let him, it was like there was a really strange weight keeping his legs and arms from moving right, but his head seemed to be floating, miles away from here. Off in the wings where you had been smiling, happy in someone else's arms. Smiling as your lips move, your eyes on fire as his world falls apart a little, by little as you utter those words, those prayers , those hopes of imperfections coming true with every note and every misstep and every delayed catch of his partners hand, he can feel it. The stuffy auditorium, how it was starting to suffocate him, the bitter taste of disappointment, of failure on the tip of his tongue as the shallow breaths passed over his dry lips and he inhaled the small particles of dust that everyone could see in the bright lights that was shining on every mistake he made.

As those curtains closed and the lack luster applause was still fuzzy to his ears, blood still rushing through it. He realized you'd wished his worse fears upon him, that they'd come true .

That those velveteen curtains blocking out the stage lights, was like the sun disappearing, that you'd burned so bright for the brief moment he'd set his sights on you. So bright he didn't realize how dark it would be when his downfall came.

#hamartia #hamartia the collab #kpop imagines #choi yeonjun #txt #tomorrow x together #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #txt imagines #seo changbin #jeon jungkook #jung wooyoung

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yeochikin · 5 years ago

Text

sick days. | j. yunho

a/n: phew i finally did it! this is a sequel to this fic but this can also be read as its own too! i won’t lie, i had so much trouble writing this. the amount of times i typed then erased then typed over and over again was a huge struggle for me in the past week, so i understand if this fic seemed a little... blegh ;;;; writer’s block sucks but it’s alright, i enjoyed writing it anyway hehe hope you enjoyed this. do excuse any mistakes as this has not been proofread ✨💖

word count: 3k+

main focus: yunho x fem. reader

warning(s): none, i think!

“tell me i'm hot.”

“yeah, you're hot, yunho.”

“aye.”

“you have a fever.”

“aye?”

“say ‘aye’ one more time, and i’m gonna stab you with my paintbrush.”

“aye!”

your eye twitched at his answer, showing him the temperature you had taken for him. the boy in question, who was currently laid all tucked in bed with a wet cloth on his forehead, merely gave you a bright smile despite his face looking all flushed. sometimes, you wondered whether your roommate was literally a golden retriever in his past life who got reincarnated into a human, but still somehow having the energetic personality following his next life.

“little rose, you're gonna catch my fever too. i can take care of myself.” he protested, watching as you gathered the empty ceramic bowl that was previously filled with yunho's favourite soup, mentally thanking seonghwa in your head for the recipe he gave earlier, promptly placing it onto the wooden tray you left on his bedside drawer.

“pup, you know i have a stronger immune system between the two of us. i'll be fine.” you retorted, causing the sick boy to jut his lower lip out into a little sulky pout.

“you're lucky you're cute, pup.” you grumbled, moving the cloth away to feel at his forehead, the playful glare in your eyes melting into a soft gaze. you couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you tried. luckily, his skin wasn't burning as much as before, though the pinkness in his cheeks were still present.

everything seemed like a blur today. all he remembered was trying to get up from the bed but for some reason, yunho felt as if someone had dumped a huge pile of bricks on top of his body while someone kept hitting his head with a hammer. he was lucky that you came into his room to wake him up as soon as his best friend, mingi, called you up to ask where the peachy haired boy was since he couldn't reach him for some reason. that's when you know something was up.

of course, panic started to fill your entire being as soon as you saw how flushed his cheeks looked upon entering the room, along with him shivering underneath his blanket. you immediately went to his side as you phoned your other friends to tell them what was happening. it didn't take long for yunho to be dragged away from the bed by mingi, and jongho (mainly jongho) just so seonghwa could drive them to the doctor's, despite yunho mumbling that he's fine to which he was absolutely not fine at all.

you were thankful that it wasn't that serious, but nevertheless, yunho still received an earful of scolding from you for not taking care of himself more, as if seonghwa’s nagging wasn't enough.

so now here he is, laying still on the bed as his eyes blinked slowly before his lips lazily curled up into a grin towards you once he felt your palm resting against his forehead. the dazed look in his eyes was already a sign of the medicine he took earlier slowly kicking in. noticing how droopy his eyes were, you made sure the blankets were properly tucked on him.

“rest, pup. by the time you wake up, it will be when i wake you up for dinner so you can take your meds.” you hushed him, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

poor boy only grunted in response, finally giving up to force his eyes open, letting sleep take over him. you had decided to linger a little longer in the room, just until you were completely sure that the taller male was finally getting that much needed rest. sighing to yourself, your lithe fingers gingerly moved away some of the stray strands that managed to cover most of his eyes. your expression softens at the way his lips parted ever so slightly, chest heaving up and down in an even pace, adoring the way he looked so serene. with quick yet quiet movements so as to not wake the male up, you picked up the wooden tray, and crept up on your tiptoes towards the door.

you let your body drop onto the couch in your small living room, an arm over your forehead as your eyes stared up at the ceiling. the room was filled with silence that if someone were to drop a pin, it would have created a loud noise. the silence… it was almost a little too eerie for you. normally, it would have been filled with the sounds of you and yunho discussing your assignments as if one could give the other an inspiration to do so. it was when you turned your head to the coffee table that you saw something on the coffee table.

it was your sketchbook.

the object sitting idly on the table made you recall a particular conversation you had with yunho a couple of night’s ago.

“what are you up to, little rose?”

yunho’s voice effectively made you look up from your sketchbook, the page though seemingly empty, it was a tad crumpled from your many attempts of sketching, doodling, and the many amounts of erasing. the peachy haired boy made his way from the kitchen overlooking the living room to sit down right next to you with two mugs of what seems to be coffee in both hands, handing one of them to you.

sending him a defeated smile along with a low mumble of appreciation, carefully lifting the mug up to your lips to take a small sip of the drink. as if almost immediately, the bittersweet taste of the drink washed over your tastebuds, warmth being sent throughout your entire being. clearly, nothing can really beat coffee whenever you were in a stumped position.

“professor kim wanted us to draw something yesterday.” you finally answered, momentarily pausing to take another sip of the coffee, the boy next to you putting an arm on the couch behind your head while his other hand held onto his mug, listening to you intently.

“he mentioned that he wanted something that.. makes our chests swell with a warm feeling that you feel in your chest whenever you look at your own drawing?” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows as you set your gaze onto the blank sketchpad that was laid idly on your lap, lips pursing in deep thought.

“well, surely you must have felt the feeling before, don’t you?” yunho asked, reaching out to place his mug on top of the coffee table in front of where the two of you were seated at.

“i..” you started but somehow, the words died off in your throat.

you wanted to answer ‘yes, of course i have!’.

you wanted to say, ‘everything makes me feel that way too!’

but..

..you had come to the realisation that you had never felt such a feeling in your life before. but, wasn’t that the same thing as happiness? if that was the case, then everything would’ve been ‘a warm feeling’ to you.

yunho, who seemed to notice you being in your usual thinking bubble again, merely smiled to himself. from the couple of years being your roommate, and dare he say, your best friend, he had picked up all of your habits, and actions. from the way you would rub your nose due to being flustered, or how you would pick at your lips whenever you felt nervous - to which, he tried to make you stop by giving you a small keychain with a stress ball attached to it, fortunately making you squeeze it instead of picking your lips again - yunho could read you like an open book most of the time.

though of course, he would have to admit, it is when you seem predictable would be the time where you would be sprouting up something so.. unpredictable. the memory of you pulling a sudden all nighter because of a sudden inspiration from watching a movie would always make you look so endearing in the male’s eyes. it was when your eyes meeting his own was what made yunho flinch ever so slightly in his seat out of surprise.

“tell me, pup. have you ever felt such a feeling before?” you asked, curiosity evident in your bright eyes.

your question was to be expected, making yunho’s features soften at you. folding his arms in front of his chest, his back leaned further into the couch as he hummed underneath his breath in thought. the happiness that managed to make him freeze in place, huh? it took him a moment, but eventually, he nodded his head.

“i have, little rose.” he responded.

“and what was it, if you don’t mind sharing.” you inquired, shifting in your place to sit criss-cross as you turned to face the male next to you.

yunho could only stare at your face, slightly caught off guard upon hearing your sudden interest. he couldn’t help but to release an amused laugh at the way you leaned in ever so slightly, reaching a hand out to playfully ruffle your hair.

“it may sound a little ridiculous. but it was when you threw that birthday party for me last year.” he mentioned, only to feel an amused chortle threatening to leave his lips upon seeing the confused look painted over your face, as if waiting for the peachy haired boy to explain what he meant.

“you baked a cake for me, no?” the corners of his lips quirked up as soon as realisation seemed to hit you. you did bake a cake for him. but really, it wasn’t that special so made him pick that certain day of all days? before you could even ask, however, yunho already beat you to it by giving out his own answer.

“no one has ever baked a cake for me before, it was either bought from our local bakery in town or none at all. but something about a homemade one.. you can feel the effort and so much love from someone who had taken their time in doing so.” yunho trailed off, eyes somehow shining with an unknown sparkle in them as soon as they landed on your own.

“and i have you to thank for, little rose.” he continued, fingers gingerly curling the stray strand of hair behind your ear.

you swear you could feel your heart increase its pace, feeling as if it was about to burst out of your chest. your cheeks felt warm due to the feeling of your blood rushing up to them, a hand quickly reaching up to rub your nose before tearing your gaze away from yunho’s warm one.

you didn’t need any more explanation. you had found your inspiration.

a fond smile curled itself over your tiers at the memory before deciding to stand up as you made your way to your room, grabbing the sketchbook with you along the way. you have a drawing to finish.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

a small creak from a door being opened resonated throughout the small hallway of the house, along with heavy footsteps, and the sound of a deep yawn mingled in the air. yunho rubbed his eyes as he made his way into the living room. his eyes were still heavy with traces of sleep lingered in them before looking over to the wall clock idly hanging on the wall, wanting to know how many hours had passed after he fell asleep earlier. judging by how dark it was outside, it was already night time, or maybe even midnight. with how long he slept, it was possible he slept the whole day away.

although slowly, yunho was thankful that the medicine seemed to make him recover considering how his head wasn’t throbbing painfully like before, though he still felt a little heavy but it wasn’t as bad as earlier. he could get up on his own, and that’s already enough for the tall male.

“y/n?” the peachy haired boy called out, wandering around the house in search for you.

it was when he reached the door to your room that he noticed the door was slightly ajar, along with a faint sound of what seemed like a song playing coming from the inside as well. his knuckles, gently knocked against the wooden surface before gently pushing the door a tad wider, just enough for yunho to peek in.

and there you were. all hunched over your desk with your head on top of your folded arms, seeming to have fallen asleep with whatever you were doing earlier. as much as yunho wanted you to let you have you rest after busying yourself by helping him earlier during the day, he didn’t want you to have a sore neck and back due to the position you were in. he knew how much you would complain about the pain in the two regions afterwards but then doing it again, it was a never ending cycle that yunho was amused to see from the years of living with you.

walking over to the desk with an intention of wanting to wake you up so you could properly lie down, the male noticed something right next to your head. it was your sketchbook. he walked up behind you, looking down at your sleeping figure. with how your pencil was loosely being held in between your dainty fingers along with a couple of crumpled up papers, mixed in with the other pencils in a variety of colours you had strewn all over the surface of your desk, yunho had made the conclusion that you were working on the assignment you had told him a couple of days ago.

he was glad to know that you were finally getting started on it, knowing how much you would procrastinate until things were a little too late for you to do. but with how you managed to finish everything right on time despite having such little time left, would never cease to amaze him every time.

with slow movements (clearly not wanting you to wake up all surprised and accidentally smack him in the face), yunho leaned over you to clear up your desk from all the clutter and coloured pencils around you, only then having a clear view of what you had drawn onto the sketchbook which caused his eyes to widen ever so slightly at the sight, pausing in his ministrations.

his gaze was set on two drawn figures in what seems to be a bedroom, standing side by side with their faces facing each other, joyful smiles painted over their features, each having a paintbrush in hand. it looked like the two of them were enjoying their time together. but what had caught yunho’s eyes was one of the figures having the similar shade of peach as his hair colour, mirroring yunho’s own hair colour. it was when he saw the familiar details on the walls of the drawing that the peachy haired male noticed what, or rather, who the two figures were in the sketchbook.

“yunho?” a soft voice called out, grogginess laced in their tone as they spoke up which made the tall male flinch ever so slightly in place as he tore his gaze away from the drawing down to you.

from his mind, he had already answered you calling out his name but in reality, he was staring down at your face. tilting your head up, eyes half-lidded from the sleepiness still apparent in your irises. it was when you looked down that you might have caught the gist of whatever has made him speechless. emitting a gasp out of realisation, your hands quickly covered the drawing, whining at him.

“y-you weren’t supposed to see that. i wasn’t d-”

“tell me, little rose. what do you see in me?” was his sudden question, effectively making your words die down in your throat. gulping thickly, your heartbeat was suddenly too loud in your ears. finally having the courage, your lips parted to answer the male’s question.

“i have found comfort in you.” you whispered, yunho’s eyes staring into your own nervous ones.

“i have found happiness whenever we spend time together.” you noted the way your faces were mere centimetres apart from each other.

“i have found the.. the warmth that made me feel at home.” his hands reached out for your hands, holding them in his much larger ones, feeling the pad of his thumbs caressing your knuckles.

“i have.. found myself falling for..” you murmured, yunho resting his forehead on top of your own, both of your eyes fluttering shut, and your noses touching against each other.

“i have found myself falling for you.”

you were scared to open your eyes. you were scared that if you did, everything would have taken a completely different turn. you were scared that you would ruin the friendship the both of you have built together. you were scared to see the disgusted look on yunho’s face after the little confession.

you were scared to lose yunho.

however, those thoughts were completely thrown out of the window upon hearing the words being uttered by the male looming above you.

“little rose, can i kiss you?”

the question kept repeating itself in your mind. you wanted to say yes, you wanted to throw your arms around his neck, you wanted to scream out in relief. yet, not even a whisper came out. not trusting your voice, and the choice of words, you merely gave him a nod. to yunho, that was already enough for him. without wasting any more time, the taller male leaned in to press his lips against your own. yunho wasn’t sure if his fever was coming back or it was due to his heart pumping so fast that blood rushed to both of his cheeks. he wasn’t sure, but his face was undeniably warm.

your smaller hand released one of the male’s bigger ones, reaching up to rest itself against his cheek while your lips moved against his own in sync. everything around you felt muted, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your heart like some type of drum. you never knew that a simple action could make you crave for more, but of course, the need for air was already screaming in the both of your minds that made you pull away from each other, albeit reluctantly.

yunho could faintly taste the sweetness that lingered over his lips as his eyes stared into yours in silence, his hand squeezing yours, before a gentle smile spread itself over his brims, you finding it contagious as you can’t help but to show him your own smile in return. deep down, he wanted to kiss you again, seemingly longing to feel them on his lips once again. so, he did just that. much to your surprise, of course you weren’t complaining.

you would be lying if you denied any more of his kisses.

once the both of you pulled away for the second time, one specific thing popped into your mind, eyes widening in realisation which caused yunho to tilt his head ever so slightly to the side in question.

“if you get me sick, i swear.”

“hey, you said you have a strong immune system!”

“jeong yunho!”

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