#having people count on you to get into prestigious schools and take 'prestigious' courses. absolute hell

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Eddie hated this and he'd just started.

See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.

He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.

"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"

But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.

"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."

Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"

"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"

Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.

When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"

That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."

Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.

Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."

And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.

#steddie #steddie au #steddie drabble #corporate au #coworkers au #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things drabble #yeah so I'm crazy busy and kind of not doing too well #so this is not proofread #but I wanted to put something small together so here you go

[sweetpuddings]

Forgive Me, Father (For I Will Sin)

Part One

AO3 Link

Summary:

Peter is a priest and you have to atone for your sins.

Priest Kink based AU

Word Count: 2.2k

Tags: F/M, Female coded / AFAB Reader, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Priest Kink, Religion Kink

CW: Sacrilegious behaviour If you are uncomfortable with explicit stuff done in religious settings, I highly recommend you don’t read this.

A/N at the end!

--

You are a slut. A grade-A certified whore.

That’s probably the simplest way to describe you, and you love it.

Of course, you have many other talents as well. One doesn’t graduate from one of the most prestigious science schools in the city without having at least some cogs working in their brain.

While attending said school, you just happened to discover that your interests didn’t just lie with science but also… elsewhere. You were highly interested in other people, but specifically with how other people made you feel.

You look good. You know that. This fact was cemented in your brain by the numerous lovers who have told you exactly that. Hearing these compliments comforted you; boosted your self-confidence. Plus, the rush of finally getting someone you’ve been working hard to get is indescribable.

You don’t do well with rejection. It’s a good thing that you’ve always been able to get who you want.

Well, except one.

The grand prize.

Peter Parker.

The number one student of Midtown Science High School with a brilliant mind and a bright future as a great scientist.

Not to mention a pretty boy with an almost unbelievably attractive body. A dangerous combination no one could refuse.

As oblivious as a brick though, considering he never noticed the absolute swarm of girls throwing himself at him.

You were confident you could land him, but you are realistic enough to know when you’re aiming for coal. As far as you could tell, Peter wasn’t interested in people. He didn’t even have friends. Instead, he preferred to be quiet, sit by himself at the far back, and rush home straight after school – leaving you little chance to try your luck.

After graduation, it was as if he dropped off the face of the earth. No one heard anything from him for years – which wasn’t exactly a surprise, but still.

Peter had caught your eye, but the train left the station and you resigned yourself to the fact that you’ll probably never get to wrap him around your finger. Which, admittedly, was a hard pill for you to swallow.

So when an opportunity presents itself to fulfil your dream, you just have to take it, right? Even if it is 7 years later.

Turns out, Peter had secluded himself in search of a spiritual connection to God. His search had resulted in him being appointed as one of the youngest priests the city had ever seen, at the youthful age of 25. Taking vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, Peter Parker has dedicated his future to serve his lord.

Peter Parker. Resurfaced. Attractive. Untouchable. A challenge.

Let’s be real here, you don’t even think about the moral aspect as a plan starts to form in that pretty little head of yours.

You make sure to clear your calendar of any plans scheduled on any Sunday and take up the habit of going to church. You dress modestly and regularly attend mass. You even go the extra mile and start participating instead of just being an observer on the side-lines.

Most importantly, you behave yourself.

You can’t exactly risk being thrown out of the church, without having reached your goal just yet. So far, everything’s going according to plan, and you’d be damned if you let this opportunity slip through your fingers.

Sure, some may call this excessive – you call it dedication.

Peter had been the priest during most of the masses you attended, and once you memorized his schedule, you made sure to only attend when he’s there.

Your clothes, while appropriate, became shorter and more figure-hugging; complimenting your features. Modest enough not to get kicked out, improper enough to catch the eye of your target.

You first noticed him staring at you after mass, when you were about to exit your booth. You turned for one last look at Peter and caught him transfixed on your ass; clad only with a tight dress. The moment you established eye contact though, he immediately turned his head; the skin on his neck and cheeks tinted red with the embarrassment of getting caught.

It put a smile on your face, seeing him flustered like that, but it’s not enough. Not yet.

You’re fairly certain this might change today, though.

The second time you have Peter’s attention is during communion. You doubt you’re even allowed to be in line, considering you’ve never had your First Communion as a child, but so far no one’s called you out on it. People have been exceptionally nice here, and you almost feel bad, but you’re here for one reason and one reason only.

The line moves forward as the person in front of you finishes.

The church is one of the few that still require you to kneel while you receive the eucharist and sacramental wine. That’s fine with you. In fact, it only helps your plan.

You flash a small smile at Peter as you approach the altar and take a small bow. Bending your knees, you sink down to the carpeted floor of the church. You look up at Peter from below your lashes; mustering up the most innocent look you can manage while being in such a compromising position.

“The body of Christ.”, he announces while holding up the eucharist.

You smile. “Amen.”, you say in preparation to receive it.

However, you don’t just simply open your mouth like every other person in the room. You need to stand out after all.

You slyly stretch your tongue out slightly more than necessary, as if you were preparing to receive something entirely different. Your eyelids lower and your gaze finds Peters as you wait for him to continue.

Peter’s actions slow down just the tiniest bit, barely noticeable to everyone else. But you can tell, and it takes most of your willpower to refrain from outright giggling.

He places the eucharist on your tongue, not breaking eye contact, and you fight the urge to wrap your lips around his slender fingers. You wonder whether his intense gaze is normal, or whether he is forcing himself not to look anywhere else.

Of course, you need to remain as subtle as possible. No need to overdo it.

So when you prop your hands on your knees, which leads to your elbows pushing your breasts together slightly, accentuating your cleavage, it has nothing to do with wanting to elicit a reaction out of Peter.

And surely, when the way Peter’s Adams apple bops in his throat, as he gulps down the saliva accumulating in his mouth, it has absolutely nothing to do with the sinful look you give him.

You stand back up to continue on to the cup minister, making way for the next person.

However affected he might be, Peter is good at his job and continues on with practiced actions.

You’re almost disappointed with how little impact you have on him, but one look over your shoulder confirms your suspicions. Peter’s neck is red again; his eyes glazed as they follow your swaying hips walking down the aisle.

A lingering look.

The smile that graces your face is downright mischievous.

--

You hang back as most people leave.

Sitting at the aisle end of the booth, you patiently wait as Peter talks to a fellow church member. Which isn’t anything unusual, he is there to provide guidance after all.

What is unusual, are the very much unsubtle glances he sneaks at you, evidently not fully focused on his conversation.

The third time he does this, you catch his eyes. Looking at him straight on, you tilt your head and flash him a little smile, just enough to hold his attention for a second too long.

Coughing Peter abruptly breaks the eye contact, turning his head back to the person in front of him.

It doesn’t take long for the last person to leave; you stand up the minute they walk out the door.

Peter is turned towards you, watching you get out of the booth with an expectant look; perhaps preparing to answer a question which sets you on the right path.

It’s a look that is a little too innocent for your taste, but then again, he’s not meant to be easy.

“Hello, Father.” You bat your eyelashes and put on a smile. “Would you mind answering a question?”

Peter shakes his head with a soft, almost comforting smile. “Not at all.”

You straighten up and your grin widens. “Do you remember me?”

It’s clear that he didn’t expect this question; you can see it in the way his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his mouth falling open as he stammers the start of a sentence.

“I- uh – yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yes. We went to school together, right?”

Oh, thank God.

Even though you’d like to think of yourself as unforgettable, you have to admit you had a slight fear he wouldn’t remember you, which would be a significant hurdle in your plan.

“Yes.”, you continue. “I don’t believe we’ve had a proper conversation?”

You know you’ve never had a real conversation. With the way Peter disappeared the second the bell rang, there was hardly any time for anyone to have a conversation with him.

“No.”, he answers, shaking his head and chuckling slighty. “But I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Has he, now?

“I see my reputation precedes me.” You flick your eyes to the floor in an attempt to look bashful. As if you were ashamed, regretful even; ignoring the way your skin is prickling with excitement at the thought of Peter hearing things about you. More importantly, remembering having heard those things.

Taking a step forward, just enough for it to seem natural, you continue. “Then you must know that I have done a lot of wrongs in the past.”

There’s a twinkle in his eye that you can’t place exactly.

“The past is in the past. What’s important are your actions in the present and future.”

You bite your lip and squint your eyes at him; polite smile not leaving your face.

“Is it, truly?”

You take another step forward, deliberately obvious this time.

Peter doesn’t step back.

Instead, he holds your gaze for a beat, before shaking his head.

“You could- uhm, you could confess. Absolve of your sins in the past.”, he says, seemingly remembering his priestly duties. “If you want to.”

You breathe a small laugh at that. You take it back; he is easy.

Asking you to confess, presumably in a confessional booth; a small and confined space, hidden from the eyes of onlookers. You couldn’t have planned it better yourself.

Either he is easy, or genuinely thick headed. Regardless, it works in your favour.

“I’d love that, Father.” You take another step towards him, the space between you officially too small to be appropriate.

He still doesn’t step back.

You trail your eyes down his body, from his clerical collar, to the stole hanging from his shoulders, to the chasuble adorning his upper body. Even through all his vestments, you can tell that he’s filled out considerably since you were in school; his shoulders broader than before; the veins on his hands more prominent than you remember.

Sucking in a quick breath, your eyes flick back up to his.

“When would you be available?”, you ask.

It takes him a moment to return your gaze; if you had blinked you would have missed it, but you’re sure. He was checking you out in the same manner as you.

Focusing back to your conversation, he shakes his head and flashes a polite smile.

“Well, I’m not usually at the confessionals so-“

“Hm?”, you interrupt him before he can explain further, not interested on whether or not he is usually in charge of confessions.

Thankfully he gets the hint.

Nodding, as if he understood your intent, he rectifies his statement. “Uh- Tuesday’s good. There’s an AA meeting that day, but after that, there aren’t that many people here, usually.”

Now that’sinteresting.

You raise an eyebrow and supress a smirk. “Is that so?”

A light blush dusts his cheek and crawls up his neck, covered only by his clerical collar.

“Uh- I mean, it’s less b-busy so I’d have time to work the booth.”, he stammers, trying to justify his answer.

After all, you never asked whether a lot of people would be there. It’s certainly a peculiardetail for him to mention.

Still, you decide not to torture him too much. “Oh, don’t worry. I get what you mean.”

Letting out a breath, he flashes you a relieved smile.

Even though this is the point at which you should probably leave, you don’t move.

Holding eye contact, you await his next actions. While you’re at it, you flick out your tongue slightly and wet your lips.

The blush on Peter’s face spreads along his cheeks, his eyes drawn to the movement of your tongue.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see some movement behind Peter. Some church staff waiting for him to finish his conversation, you assume.

Taking a step back, you inadvertently cause Peter to zone back into the moment.

“I think you’re needed back there.” You nod in the direction behind him

He follows your movement momentarily. Turning back he asks, “Right. I’ll see you then?”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “See you Tuesday, Father.”

Just before turning towards the exit, you shoot him a quick wink and relish in the way his breath hitches.

--

A/N: I have A LOT of religious trauma and corrupting a fictional priest is the only way I can deal with it.

Also, I’m not catholic and haven’t set foot in a church in years, so a few details might be skewed.

& lastly, Google said 25 is the lowest age one can be when ordained as a priest so that’s what we’re going with.

Hope you enjoy! Next (and last, I think) part will be out in a few days or so :)

#tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm andrew garfield #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter x you #andrew!peter parker #tasm! peter parker x reader #priest peter parker #tasm au #the amazing spiderman au

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

*

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

*

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

#snacmc ttf #tempting the fates #rowaelin ttf #snacmc collab #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

[hes-a-rainbow]

Simply Meant To Be (Part One)

A/N: I’ve always loved soulmate AU’s so I wrote a little something based on my interpretation. I’ll only continue this if it gets good feedback so remember to like and share!

word count: 2k warnings: small mention of panic attacks. 

Soulmates weren’t a new concept. Many people argued soulmates were as old as the universe itself. But that didn’t stop the tiny twinge of jealousy that twisted in Rue’s stomach as she opened up yet another wedding invitation. She stared back at the smiling couple, one of her friends from high school that had met their soulmate a few years back in college. Another photo zoomed in on their ring fingers. Their first initials scarred on both of their fingers indicating their eternal bond. 

She flipped over the invitation to fill out the rsvp and dinner selection she would be having in a few months time. She also marked an ‘X’ next to ‘not bringing a guest’. She sighed as the tiny ‘X’ seemingly mocked her loneliness.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in soulmates, they were a fact of life since the beginning of civilization. It was merely the loneliness she felt seeing everyone meeting their soulmate while she still remained alone. Her best friend, Madison, who had met her soulmate back in kindergarten and she was now six months pregnant with their second child. 

There was no real science to when, where, or how you would meet your soulmate, it was just supposed to happen. Fate would eventually intertwine the lives of two people who were simply meant to be. Rue was now nearing 26. She had been in love before, as many before her, but the looming fact that her significant others’ soulmate could show up at any time kept her from anything long term. 

There was always that terrible thought in the back of her head; the one she had since she was young and still kept her up at night. Growing up, the concept of soulmates were taught in schools. Children mocked each other on the school yard that they would be forever ‘unmarked’, a term coined for those who were destined to be alone. It was a rare phenomenon but it still happened nonetheless.

She took a look at her left hand adorned with rings except for on her ring finger. She remembers spending hours as a child staring and hoping the initial of her true love would show up. But all these years later, it remained as bare as the day she was born. She never thought of herself as a pessimist and she knew she was still young (her parents hadn’t met until they were in their mid thirties) but it still hurt as she watched from the sidelines as seemingly everyone else was matched up.

The loud ringing of her cell phone snapped her out of her thoughts. Her friend and close confidante, Caroline, was calling. She swiped her finger across her phone and cleared her throat, “What’s up?”

“Well hello to you too!” Caroline’s voice roared back to her. She hit the volume button down lower as she knew Caroline was a loud talker. “I’m on my way to Rory’s. My guitar string broke this morning and Talia got called in for a late shift. Do you wanna stop by with me and then get take out for dinner?” Caroline’s soulmate, Talia, was a highly wanted chef in Hell’s Kitchen who worked nights at one of the most prestigious restaurants in the entire city. 

She stared at the digital clock on her oven that indicated it was only 5:30. “Sure, I just got home so just let me change and I’ll meet you at Rory’s.” She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder and wandered over to her bedroom to pull out a pair of jeans.

“No need. I’m walking up your stairs as we speak.” Like clockwork, she heard the sound of Caroline’s knuckles knocking at her front door. 

“Jesus Caroline, and what if I had said no?” She walked over to the door, unzipping her work pants. Caroline’s bright smile and bleached blonde hair greeted her. “You can’t say no to me!” Caroline looked down at her friends’ outfit. “Cute but can I recommend something less librarian?” Caroline placed her guitar case by the door as Rue rolled her eyes but held the door open. She sauntered back over to her dresser to continue changing out of her work clothes. Caroline sat on her bed and basically held an entire conversation by herself as Rue simply replied with oh, uh huh, and that’s crazy.

.

.

Winter had come to the city fast, blanketing the city in a slick frost every morning. The two women walked side by side, bundled up in hats and scarves as they walked the two blocks from Rue’s apartment to Rory’s, an old music shop that also happened to be run by Rory, Rue’s upstairs neighbor and close friend. 

“And I know she’ll be upset if I spend so much money but she’s been talking about this knife set for months now.” Caroline rambled on about what she would be getting Talia for their upcoming anniversary. They weren’t married yet, or even engaged for that matter, but they had been together for nearly five years now and didn’t see the need to rush anything.

“I mean it is your five year. She can’t be too upset that you would want to splurge a little bit. But that’s also basically your whole paycheck. You’d basically be leaving it up to her to pick up that entire month’s rent.” Rue’s faded leather boots slapped the pavement as she hid her face further into the scarf wrapped around her neck, trying to warm up her freezing nose. It was almost completely dark out now which meant there was no sun to help ease off the cold.

“And what about that song you were working on? No amount of money spent could give Talia anything that personal and from the heart.” Caroline was an aspiring musician who worked full time as a coffee shop manager and played open mics on the weekends. Caroline hummed in response, her confidence slipping. “I’m just not sure if I like how it turned out…” She let her voice trail off and stared ahead as if in deep thought. 

“She’d love it no matter what. Anyone would.” Rue knocked her shoulder into her friends’. “I mean isn’t that like everybody’s dream? To have a song written about them?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” They both stopped at the old music store with the big ‘open’ sign in neon lights adorning the window.

“Ah fuck it’s cold out there.” Caroline announced as the warmth from the stores’ heater hit them. Rue untangled her scarf to hang loosely at her side. A loud bell indicated their arrival and they saw Rory’s head perk up from behind the register. 

“How much for an hour, ladies?” He called over to them and was met with not one, but two middle fingers from them both. Rory was only a few years older than them but had become especially close with Caroline because of their love of music. Rue worked as a receptionist at a law firm but worked a few shifts at the shop here and there when Rory needed extra help.

Caroline walked over to the counter and plopped her heavy guitar case on it. “String broke again.” She popped open the buckles on the side, lifting it up to reveal the old acoustic guitar she had been gifted as a teenager. The shine of the guitar had been long lost and was now replaced with a few dings and scratches but Caroline loved it no less than the day she got it.

“Damn Caroline. Really have to start being more careful with her.” Rory took the guitar out of it’s velvet bed by the neck and examined the broken string that hung lamely at the side. “This is the second time this month. What could you possibly be playing?”

“I’m trying to learn some flamenco techniques and it’s not going as well as I planned…” Rue wandered over to the wall that hung the electric guitars, zoning out the banter coming from her two friends.

She always admired the instrument but had absolutely no musical talent whatsoever. She loved how Rory kept all the guitars miraculously clean, there were never any fingerprints or smudges on them and she swear he went over every spot with a toothbrush to make sure. She reached for an acoustic guitar that was hanging lower than the more expensive ones.

“You break it, you buy it!” Rory called over to her as he always did. She huffed in response and propped her knee up on a low shelf that held a variety of guitar straps. She didn’t know how to play nor did she know any songs but she loved the sounds the strings made when plucked. She would find herself mesmerized when she watched Caroline play the guitar so effortlessly. Rue even thought back to when she was a child and took a few piano lessons here and there but could never get the hang of it.

As she stood under the guitars and heard Caroline and Rory bickering about which string would be the best replacement (of course his recommendation was also the most expensive brand he sold), the bell by the front door rung to indicate a new customer. Rue didn’t bother looking over as she played some random notes in an attempt to put something together but only to be met by a terrible ‘plunk’. She decided to put the guitar back before embarrassing herself even further in front of her very talented friends.

She was about to place the head of the guitar back on the hook it hung from when she felt an intense pain in her chest. The hand not holding the guitar went right to the center of her chest as a warmth ran over her body. Her ears started to ring and she teetered in her place before placing the guitar down on the floor, not wanting to damage it if she fell.

“Rue?” She heard her name coming from behind her but her eyes filled with stars. She opened and closed them as the pain in her chest increased, causing her to fall to the floor on her knees. She could hear frantic chatter coming from the counter but her only focus was calming her breathing. She had suffered from panic attacks before but the intense pain in her chest was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She heard footsteps running towards her as she released a groan from deep in her throat.

“Rue! What’s going on? Are you okay?” Caroline slumped to the floor next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. Rue’s vision was blurry and she blinked fast as her eyes started to water. A bang and a deep groan went through the store somewhere behind her. “Holy shit!” A stranger's voice yelled, “Harry, man, are you alright?” 

Suddenly, the pain Rue felt in her chest shot down her left arm. She felt as if she were dying. It was as if her skin was being cut from the inside out while also spontaneously being burned. “Rue! Rue!” She could hear Caroline calling her name but it came through as muffled though her ringing ears. She looked up to see a group of men standing by the counter. Rory was speaking frantically on his cell phone and she could see two men crowded around another who sat in the same position on the floor as she did. The brunette on the floor looked up and their eyes met. The overwhelming pain stopped suddenly as she stared at him. Pictures flashed in her mind of her and this man, someone who was a stranger to her but also oddly familiar. She saw his smile and heard her own laugh. She saw tears stream down his face and her own fingers wiping them away. 

What is this? She thought in her head. 

You know what this is. Her conscious replied.

Caroline’s face came back to her line of sight, “Hey Rue, look at me. It’s okay. You’re gonna be fine.” She held Rue’s face in her hands. Rue’s hands came up to clasp her friends’ wrist, her breathing rapid as her heart beat finally started to slow back to a normal pace. Her left hand still stung. More specifically, her left ring finger.

She pulled away from her friend quickly to examine the new mark that now adorned her skin. 

“Holy shit.” Rue rubbed at the mark with her other hand to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. But with every swipe, the letter remained. “Holy shit!” Rue heard Caroline agree as she looked down at Rue’s hand, but Caroline’s voice was filled with less fear and more glee than Rue’s.

There, on her left ring finger, still swollen and red was the letter H.

.

A/N: This is just an idea I have that I may or may not continue based on the feedback. I know Harry was literally just a mention in this part but I would obviously include him much more going forward. Let me know if you’re interested in what happens next and please like and share!

.

Part Two

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry style fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #one direction #hslot #soulmates au #harry styles writing #tpwk #treat people with kindness #harry styles drabble #harry styles x oc

[tenthgrove]

500 Followers Celebration!!!: Part 1 (La Squadra Backstories)

Hey! Thank you so much for 500 amazing followers! Every single one of you mean so much to me!

Part 1 of this celebration is, as the title suggests, my headcanon backstory for each of La Squadra. As some of you know I was at some point in the process of writing a full multi-chapter fic on this, but since that unfortunately never came to fruition beyond the first couple chapters, here is a shortened version of the stories that were originally planned.

Part 2 is going to be a little something I wrote a while back but never felt brave enough to send to more than a few people. That will be seeing the light of day soon. ;)

Risotto

Risotto Dante Nero was born in a small, poor farming village in Sicily, somewhere in the vicinity of Catania. His parents were a young, dysfunctional couple who weren't ready for a kid in the first place. Seeing their newborn son had 'evil' eyes was the last nail in the coffin for them, and they gave the baby up to his paternal grandmother when he was only days old.

Despite being shunned by his family over the aesthetic defect, Risotto was able to form a close bond with his older cousin, Domenico, who would eventually move in with him and his grandmother after being disowned by the family himself. Domenico helped Risotto find friends, and was the main reason why the next few years were the happiest in the young boys life.

Unfortunately, Domenico was struck and killed at age just 19 by a drunk driver, a millionaire from Milan who on top of his intoxication, was driving incredibly fast. Risotto never recovered from the grief; his personality was altered drastically and he eventually dropped out of school. His grandmother indulged him in his revenge fantasies, believing that he would never seriously carry them out. This proved the biggest mistake of her life.

At age 18 Risotto left home to hunt down Domenico's killer. Despite the years of preparation he was in way over his head and was eventually forced to make a deal with Passione for the resources he would need to break into the mansion and not get caught. But the newly initiated mafioso found that revenge did nothing for his grief. Now, he simply had nothing to work for.

Risotto fell into a deep depression for the next two years, doing his duties as a low-ranking soldato for Passione but feeling utterly empty inside. It became so dire that after becoming injured in a fight with a stand user, he welcomed what looked to be his impending death.

But Risotto did not die that day, being saved by an associate of the gang and rushed to hospital. After hearing word that Risotto had defeated a stand user, Prosciutto became interested and approached Risotto for help with a hit he had been assigned to. Risotto agreed and Prosciutto developed a liking for the young man. A few months later, when Prosciutto was tasked with forming a specialised squad for assassination, he remembered Risotto and requested he become the team’s captain. Risotto was put through at once for receiving a stand, and was seated at the head of the brand new La Squadra di Esecuzione.

Prosciutto

Maiale Crepuscolo was born the daughter of a powerful Don in Naples, and his much neglected wife. Raised in luxury, he came to resent his callous father, especially when the man continued to behave adulterously despite his wife’s failing health. The death of Mrs Crepuscolo was a huge blow to her 16 year old son. It was around this time that Maiale discovered his male identity and chose a new name for himself: Prosciutto.

Mere months after the death of his wife, Don Crepuscolo married his pregnant mistress, a young woman by the name of Loreta. Despite the circumstances, Prosciutto and Loreta got on very well together, and the young man confided in her about his transgender identity, to be met with her full support. Any faith that Prosciutto may have had in his father before was immediately lost when Loreta was thrown out onto the streets by her new husband, along with their infant son Pesci. His sole reason for doing this was that he had become tired of her, and the baby's crying.

Without his father’s knowing, Prosciutto continued to wire Loreta and Pesci money through his hefty allowance, and counted down the days until he could graduate highschool and become eligible for his mother’s inheritance. The very day he gained access to it, he cut his father off for good.

The next few years of Prosciutto’s life were the best. He went to a prestigious university to study politics and afterwards found work as a journalist. With his father no longer an issue, he medically transitioned and upped the money he was giving to his half-brother and former step-mother. Everything was going perfectly.

At age 24, Prosciutto received a visit by members of Passione, who informed him they had annexed his father’s gang and killed him. As much as Prosciutto insisted they had been estranged for years, the men maintained that Prosciutto was still considered a threat, and could only be allowed to live if he joined the gang. Worse, they threatened him with Pesci’s life. Prosciutto knew he had no choice.

Over the next few years, Prosciutto worked his way up. By age 27 he was granted the privilege to develop a stand, and was quickly pushed into the assassination business as a result of its deadly power. At that time, Passione had no designated assassination team, and individuals ordered to carry out hits had to go running around for volunteers if they needed help on a mission. This is why Prosciutto had sought out Risotto.

When the order to form a hitman squad was given, Prosciutto was initially primed to become the captain. However, he was strongly against taking this role, as Loreta was starting to show signs of chronic illness and Prosciutto wanted to make sure he could still take care of Pesci if it became necessary. Tasked with finding an alternative, Prosciutto initially approached his old friends Sorbet and Gelato, who had been part of the squad sent to confront him after the death of his father and had kept in touch out of pity. The pair were cleared to join the team, but were not trusted by the team’s superiors to become captain. And so, Prosciutto turned once more to Risotto.

Sorbet and Gelato

Sorbet and Gelato could not have been born in more different circumstances, the former in absolute poverty, and the latter in comparative privilege.

Sorbet’s mother was by no means a bad woman. It was just the case that through her crippling addictions and mental illnesses, she was in no means equipped to care for her 6 children, forcing Sorbet, the eldest, to pick up the slack. Though he loved his siblings the young Sorbet resented this role and was easily tempted by a street gang at age 12, who offered him escape from his miserable life through drug peddling. Sorbet began to drift from his family more and more. He soon disappeared from school, and became completely estranged from his mother and siblings.

By age 17 Sorbet had developed a reputation in the gang for ruthlessness, and was approached by its leader to carry out a number of assassinations. He soon became the group’s designated hitman, and was paid generously for the role. He was still however, functionally homeless.

Gelato was born to an upper-middle class family in Minsk, Russia. The youngest of four boys, his parents had been hoping for a girl, and their resentment only grew when it became clear the young Gelato was both autistic and ADHD. He suffered from extreme emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13, the family moved back to Italy where his mother was from. Though he preferred it here, the problems with his family continued and Gelato was eventually kicked out at just 17 years old.

Following the word of a friend, Gelato made his way to Naples and found work running an illegal bar for a street gang in exchange for a room to sleep in. The same gang, incidentally, that Sorbet was working for. The two first exchanged words when Gelato found Sorbet beating up a patron who had been abusive to him, and decided to join in. Within weeks, they were lovers.

One night, while Sorbet and Gelato were asleep upstairs, the police raided the bar. In a panic, Gelato shot two, and Sorbet took out a third. The fourth got away. Knowing they would be hunted, the pair begged refuge from their gang but were denied. They were not a powerful enough syndicate to deal with something of this size. And so, with only each other, Sorbet and Gelato fled Italy.

They were on the run for two years, passing through just about every country in Europe at least once. As a means of surviving, they took on assassination contracts from local gangs and became very skilled, but of course this only turned up the heat to catch them. Eventually, it got too much, and in a final desperate bid to avoid capture, the pair went back to Italy to plead their gang to reconsider.

What they found now in charge of Naples was not their gang, but Passione. A capo by the name of Pericolo listened to their story, and agreed eagerly to dissuade the police from pursuing them in exchange for their loyalty to the new gang. Sorbet and Gelato agreed at once, and developed stands soon after.

Formaggio

A Naples Boy through and through, Formaggio was born in the central city to a large, loving family. Owing to their poverty, all the aunts, grandparents and cousins lived in one house. Although many were part of the mafia, it was always stressed to the children they were under no obligation to choose such a life. Nonetheless, many of them still did.

One night, Formaggio’s eldest brother Miguel sneaked off from the house, telling nobody but Formaggio. His goal was to seek initiation into Passione. The young Formaggio pleaded to come as well, but was told he was not ready yet. Miguel returned a couple of hours later, carrying a metal arrowhead. He told his brother that something unexpected had happened, and he needed to go now, but it was vital Formaggio told nobody of this meeting. He promised it would all be worth it in the end.

Years passed, and Miguel did not return. Then one day- a hastily-written letter, addressed solely to Formaggio. In his final message, Miguel apologised for the absence and announced that he did not expect to survive the next few hours. However, if Formaggio wanted the answers to all that had transpired, all he needed to do was recover the arrowhead that he had last seen Miguel with all those years ago. Most likely, it would have been returned to where he found it, address enclosed. Saddened and eager to understand what had happened to his brother, Formaggio followed the instructions and broke into a heavily guarded warehouse. He found the arrow, just as Miguel had said, but failed to understand how this could solve his problems.

Formaggio looked for a way out of the warehouse, and was suddenly set upon by the guards. He ran for the exit and tripped, impaling himself on the arrow. Little Feet came forth at once, stunning the guards. Not wanting to deal with whatever that was, they called in Risotto and his newly built execution squad, based nearby, to deal with it.

Fortunately, the assassins’ skills were not needed. In spite of the circumstances Formaggio met the assassins with charm and cooperation. Risotto phoned his superiors to see if killing the man was really necessary, and they agreed it wasn’t, provided Formaggio became Risotto’s business. An agreement was reached, and Formaggio was inducted into the hitman squad. It would take two more members for Formaggio to piece together what had happened to his brother.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio was dealt an awful hand in life. Poor, and with parents that hated him, he had little respite as a child. He was autistic, but never diagnosed, and had visual impairments that were never addressed. His fondest memory was of a bizarre couple he met as a child, a dark-haired, dour man and his blond lover, who kept him company after his mother walked away from him in anger at a shopping mall. She came back, unfortunately.

When Ghiaccio was 15, a frantic knock sounded at his door while his parents were out. Answering it nervously, an equally frantic man stood on the other side brandishing an arrow-head. He introduced himself exhaustedly as Miguel and begged for shelter- he was being chased.

Before Ghiaccio could answer a squad of men burst onto the porch and attacked Miguel, dragging him out of view. Ghiaccio was thrown to the ground and told in no uncertain terms to speak of none of this to anyone. It wasn’t until later he realised the arrow had accidentally slashed him.

At that time, Ghiaccio’s soul was not fit to manifest a stand, but it was close. And so, Ghiaccio began to suffer the slow, agonising fate that some in his position fall victim to, his half-manifested stand slowly sucking the life from him. His parents didn’t even have the heart to call a doctor.

Two months into this agony, Ghiaccio heard something outside his room. His parents. They were talking about what to do if he died. He’d had enough. He snapped.

And so, Ghiaccio’s soul reached the point where it was strong enough to bare a stand fully, after having already partially manifested one. This unheard of situation created a stand with no physical form, but unspeakable power. A surge of ice broke out around the house without Ghiaccio even meaning it to, killing his parents at once. His sickness gone, Ghiaccio got up from the bed. What the hell had just happened?

Convinced he had lost his mind, Ghiaccio fled, but left a trail of unexplainable events behind him. Realising they were dealing with an unaccounted stand user, Passione had Ghiaccio hunted down and propositioned to join them. Terrified and with no other idea of what to do, he agreed. With a stand like this, there were only 2 options: La Squadra and La Unita. La Unita had no interest in an impulsive teenager, so Ghiaccio was sent at once to La Squadra.

The group was reluctant to house a teenage boy as an assassin, but took him in nonetheless. Formaggio was grateful for the crumbs of information Ghiaccio could give about the fate of his brother. Sorbet and Gelato couldn’t shake the feeling they’d seen the boy before somewhere.

Illuso

He was an only child. There was nothing particularly wrong with his relationship with his parents, but nothing particularly right either. There just… wasn’t a connection. They were a middle class family, well to do but nothing special. An arrogant boy, Illuso struggled to make friends, though he did become somewhat close with a boy in the year below him named Formaggio, for a short time.

When Illuso was 15, his parents came to him with a proposition. A distant relative of theirs was in possession of a large castle, but could not pay for its upkeep any more. The man had asked if Illuso would be interested in becoming a live-in caretaker, to be paid less than industry standards but still a lot by the standards of a 15 year old boy. Illuso agreed at once, and moved out of his parents home in a matter of days.

At the castle, his loneliness only grew. The place was closed to visitors and had no inhabitants apart from his new employer, who even then only lived in the castle 4 days a week. Illuso thought he was okay with this life, but the effect on his psyche was indisputable.

Then one day, the castle had a break-in. Illuso was accosted by a young man named Miguel, who had been squatting in the cellar for days and believed the castle was abandoned. The pair came to an understanding, and Miguel proposed that in exchange for his silence, he would give Illuso something amazing. He pricked him with the arrow.

Thrilled with his new power, Illuso agreed to keep Miguel’s existence a secret and the pair co-existed for many years. Illuso learned that Miguel had stolen the arrow from a gang named Passione, after discovering its power and making the decision to take it on impulse. Passione is still hunting him, hence the need to hide.

But eventually, they found him nonetheless. Illuso and Miguel tried their best to fight but it was an uneven battle. Miguel fled with the arrow, chased by one half of the attacking squad, leaving Illuso to deal with the other half.

But against all odds, Illuso survived, using his stand to eliminate the attackers one by one. Eventually the last attackers gave in and fled, The next people sent to confront Illuso came with a deal: join Passione, and all will be forgiven.

Despite his stand’s power, Illuso’s superiors disliked his attitude. After a few months of being thrown between teams, he was saddled with La Squadra.

Melone

The middle of three children, Melone was born to an upper-working class family in Florence. His parents were eccentric-academic sorts, who encouraged Melone and his sisters to act without regard for social convention. Though intelligent, Melone was never quite top of the class due to his inability to stay on task. Still, he got into a decent university and had plans to become a gynaecologist.

In his second year, Melone was approached by a poor couple seeking antenatal care for their pregnancy. As they explained, they were in a gang and could not go into public care for fear of their identities as criminals being discovered. They pleaded Melone for whatever rudimentary checks he could provide, just so they could have some assurance their baby was okay. Melone agreed, and met with the couple several times.

Over the course of the next year, Melone gave similar services to a couple more women who were recommended to go to him by the first patient. It was only a matter of time before the university discovered what he was doing, especially once he started stealing equipment to improve the quality of his examinations. Melone was expelled and referred to the police, but one of his patients got Passione to bribe away his charges. Unfortunately, this put him in their debt. Melone told his family he was simply going away for a while.

Melone languished around in Passione for a while. Though he did receive a stand, its lethal capabilities weren’t immediately clear, and so he remained in the lower ranks. His main respite was the bar scene, in which he got to mingle with many of Passione’s members from different squads. It was through here that he met Illuso, Formaggio and Ghiaccio of the execution team, and formed a friendship. Through them he even formed links with the group’s leader, Risotto.

The team were eager to help Melone advance to a better position, and aided him in exploring his stand. Eventually, he discovered how lethal baby face could truly be, outshining everyone’s expectations. Risotto was pleased to welcome him into the team.

Pesci

By the time Pesci was 13, it was clear his mother’s illness was terminal. Initially reluctant to involve him around the team, Prosciutto increasingly allowed Pesci to stay with them while his mother was at the hospital, since there was nowhere else for the young boy to go. As much as everyone tried to comfort him, he was terrified.

Two years later, it was clear Loreta was in her final weeks. Pesci dedicated as much time as he could to being with her, sleeping at her bedside more often than not. It was here that he first felt the strange occurrences begin. It would be subtle at first, the peculiar feeling of his mother’s heartbeat in his hands as he drifted off to sleep. It was comforting, then. It assured him his mother was still alive. Then, it got weirder, a long string extending from his fingers and into his mother’s chest. He thought he was just sleep deprived.

When the fateful day came and Loreta’s heart monitor stopped, Pesci felt a surge of panic. Desperate to find some proof this wasn’t really happening, his stand burst forth from his body and shot its hook into Loreta’s chest. Unfortunately, it was all for nothing. Loreta was dead.

As Pesci held the rod in his hands he realised this was far too real to be a hallucination. He could sense everything, the fading metabolism of his mother’s body and the vibrations in the floor. As the nurses confirmed the death, they could not see it. Why couldn’t they see it?

Prosciutto came into the room. With one look, Pesci knew that his brother could see the rod as well. He panicked and ran.

Prosciutto tried desperately over the next couple days to get in touch with Pesci. He knew exactly what had happened- clearly the boy had summoned a stand from the anguish of his mother’s death and had freaked out in confusion. That’s all completely understandable, but if Pesci isn’t informed of what his new power means soon, he could get himself into serious trouble. Especially if Passione found out.

And so, Prosciutto set off with Risotto to hunt Pesci down, eventually finding him at a run down park near his childhood home. Prosciutto comforted him and explained he knew what was happening, but if everything was going to be okay, he had to go with them.

#la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #formaggio #illuso #prosciutto #pesci #melone #ghiaccio #risotto nero #sorbet and gelato

[homeformyheart]

Beckett x F!MC request? #15 - Things you said with too many miles between us | Maybe a scenario where it's the summer before the last year of attending Penderghast? and the couple is spending part of their summer apart in said scenario?

thank you for the request and sorry this took so long. i appreciate that this one fit an angsty scenario since fluff is harder for me to write.

author’s note: this takes place before the group’s senior year at penderghast and is a little angsty to balance the other request for something really fluffy that i’m working on with these two. i hope you enjoy! copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. series/pairing:the elementalists – beckett harrington x f!mc (celeste russell) rating/warnings: 14+; minor angst based on/prompt: things you said prompts // 15. with too many miles between us word count: ~1k summary: long distance is taking a toll on celeste and beckett.

disconnected

celeste glanced between her phone and scryglass for what was probably the hundredth time – or at least atlas would whine that it was if she were here. it took three years for her to finally cave and get a scryglass – she had gotten comfortable straddling the line between attuned society and the attuneless world she grew up in.

after all, both worlds were a part of her.

but after griffin’s graduation, even zeph joined in on shreya’s campaigning to have her and atlas “stop being neanderthals and join the society they belonged in” as she so eloquently put it.

celeste was proud of how long she held out – she knew that as soon as she bought a scryglass that shreya would insist on getting her an instattuned account. she was just coming to terms with who she really was (thankfully there were no big life revelations last school year for once) and how powerful her magick was. she could wait on becoming an attuned celebrity.

even in the attuneless world (it was still weird to think about the world she grew up in as the “other”), she avoided social media and really only used her phone to call friends and family. and anyway, she was sure shreya created enough of a celebrity persona around her and atlas through her own instattuned account.

it wasn’t until beckett asked her to consider getting one to make it easier for them to connect over the summer that she went out and bought one for herself and atlas.

once again, they were spending the summer apart pursuing separate internships – beckett had received some prestigious grant to help accelerate his thaumaturgy research in london (at the rate he was going, he was probably going to publish two thesis papers by winter solstice) while celeste chose to stay at penderghast and work with former dean waithe and dean swan on blood magick research.

the stigma around blood magick required them to be creative with how she practiced and observed positive use cases – including moonlighting as an emergency room nurse in an attuneless hospital near the school. in addition to the night shifts at the hospital (it was much easier to use magick on unsuspecting attuneless when there were less people around), she was putting together a carefully worded grant proposal based on her observations.

eventually, she’d love to see the ban on blood magick overturned.

she sighed and checked her messages again, but still nothing from beckett. they hadn’t been able to figure out a time that worked for both their schedules and the time zone difference.

and she missed him, a lot.

her scryglass rang and she quickly accepted the video call, eyes turning misty at the sight of beckett’s face. it wasn’t nearly close to what she really wanted, but she’d have to make do.

“hi, babe. i miss you.”

beckett ran his hand through his hair, dark circles under his eyes that drooped with fatigue in the corners. “hi. it’s so good to see you.”

celeste’s throat tightened and she bit her lip. “i hate this. magick can create a portal out of thin air to transport you across the country, but can’t get rid of time zones?”

“i know,” he sighed. “but on the bright side, i think i found a breakthrough for that research i was doing with the ivy in the lake district. it’s absolutely fascinating and i can see why the attuneless are obsessed with it…”

she propped the scryglass against the textbooks on her desk and rested her cheek on her hand, nodding along occasionally as beckett droned on. normally she found his academic monologues endearing, but she really just wanted to feel connected to him again.

and right now, the man in her screen didn’t feel like the man she loved.

“i’m sorry for monopolizing our time, i know it’s late for you. how is your work going?”

irritation flit across celeste’s face. “it’s fine. do we have to talk about work and research?”

beckett’s brow furrowed. “of course not. what would you like to discuss? how’s your family?”

“what are we doing beckett?” she interjected. “we’re about to be seniors and we’ll have to decide what we’re going to do after graduation. what if we have to keep doing long-distance? how long can we keep this up?”

“have you forgotten i can create portals that bring me straight to you?”

“yeah, i know but you haven’t been able to do that all summer because you’re so damn busy."

“i know, but we’ll see each other at school soon. all the work i’ve been doing will pay off, i promise.”

she shook her head. “i know your work is important to you and i love your passion. i do. it just feels like sometimes our relationship isn’t as important to you.”

his jaw dropped. “of course you’re important to me, celeste. i love you.”

beckett’s face softened with concern and celeste dropped her gaze. “i love you too, but this isn’t working right now. i don’t know what to do.”

“i—”

a ring cut him off and he frowned. “sorry, i have to take this. just give me one minute.”

“it’s okay, i should head to bed anyway. i’ll talk to you tomorrow.” she forced a brief smile and ended the call before beckett could respond, putting both phones on silent.

she pressed her palms against her eyes before crawling into bed, wondering if maybe they weren’t meant to last.

* * * * * taglist: @choicesficwriterscreations; @robintora; @miss-smrxtiee; @eleanorbloom; @itsjustwinter; @mm2305; @adiehardfan;

#choices #pixelberry #the elementalists #beckett harrington #beckett x mc #beckett harrington x mc #choices te #my prompt fill #choices prompt fills #choices the elementalists #beckett x celeste #beckett harrington x celeste russell #not twc #my writing

[cowboy-like-mee]

please, daddy? pt 1

summary: harry and y/n meet at the bar and activities ensue

warnings: smut (spitting, spanking, unprotected sex, daddy kink, f and m receiving oral, face fucking)

word count: 4k

a/n: hello pls use protection especially with strangers and also talk to your partners about what they like and dislike in bed

masterlist

Harry was horny.

Like really horny.

He can’t remember the last time he got laid and he was desperate for anyone to touch him.

He hates to admit, but he has been jerking off far too much lately, He found himself tugging his cock to the thought of anything and everything. His exes, random hookups from his college days, even celebrities he was attracted to. He did it when he woke up, in the shower, when he got home from work, when he went to bed, and even in the middle of the night.

Nothing helped him, and he felt like he walked around half-hard all day.

He was desperate for some relief, and he finally decided to do something about it.

He slipped on his best pair of high waisted trousers and a button-up blouse. He put on his pearl necklace and chunky rings that covered almost every one of his fingers. He slid his fingers through his hair to tame the mess of curls on the top of his head. He took a final look in the mirror and headed out the front door

He began the short walk to his favorite bar.

It was a Friday night, there’s bound to be someone there for him tonight. he knew he was an attractive man, so he was gonna use that to the best of his ability.

After ten minutes, he finally saw the neon sign of the bar and greeted the bouncer who knew him well by now.

He walked into the dingy bar that smelled of cigarette smoke and sweat. He glanced around the room, looking for a possible candidate. When he didn’t find anybody he turned towards the bartender.

“The usual. Thanks, Jenn.”

He leans his upper body against the bar as Jenn slides the drink towards him. He nods at her and picks up the glass to take a sip.

He watches the room carefully, trying to guess what each person’s life story is based on how they interact with people and carry themselves.

He turns his head towards the door and notices a large group of women walk in. He scans over the group to see if anyone piques his interest. He feels slightly disappointed when none of the girls particularly excite him. They were all beautiful of course, but he was looking for something different. Someone that made his heart stop and breath hitch in his throat.

Just that happened. When the last of the group trailed in, that’s when he laid eyes on you. He felt his heart drop to his stomach. You were stunning. You stood out amongst the other ten or so girls in your group. You had this aura surrounding you that was calling his name.

He didn’t quite know how to get your attention, and he didn’t want to be a dick or come across as creepy. He decided he was going to give it a little while before he attempted anything, as you had just arrived.

He sits at the bar for what feels like an eternity, which was in reality, only 30 minutes. He had kept a close eye on you, as not to lose you.

You started walking towards the bar and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Now was finally his chance. He thought carefully about how he wanted to approach you.

You stood only a few feet away from him, leaning against the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention. You were having a great time with your girls. You were getting another drink for yourself because you had drunk the last one a bit too fast. You were planning on nursing this one more. When you finally waved the bartender over, you turned your head to scope out the environment. You saw a man sitting just a few feet away from you, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice him at first.

He had dark wavy hair and a muscular build, but not too bulky. He had tattoos littering his arms and a few poking out the top of his shirt. You couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, but you knew they looked light and enticing. He was hot. Very hot. Just as you were about to look away, he turned his head and his eyes met yours.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks at being caught. He gave you a little smirk, knowing you were checking him out. He nodded his head over, gesturing for you to come closer. You were nervous, not having the best experience with flirting with random men at bars, but you would be crazy to give up the chance of getting to know one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.

You gave him a small smile and shuffled over to him. You pulled yourself up onto the stool right next to his, but not too close.

“Hey, doll. Can I treat you to a drink?” He rasped. His voice was thick and raspy.

You noticed a British accent and you almost dropped to your knees right there. You cleared your throat. “I already got one, but thank you. Maybe the next one?”

“Of course. I’m Harry. And you are?” He stuck his hand out for you to shake.

You took his hand into yours, noticing how much larger it was than his. You felt the coolness of his rings against your palm. “Y/N.”

He hums. He was losing his shit. You were so fucking gorgeous, and the way you looked at him made you seem almost innocent.

“By yourself?” He knew you weren’t by yourself, but he didn’t want to seem like a stalker for already knowing that.

“No, actually. I’m with my friends. Celebrating the weekend and all that.” You giggled and he felt his heart stop. You were so cute and he wanted to bend you over the bar right there.

“They won’t mind will they?”

You glance over at your group and notice a few of them nodding and giving you thumbs up.

“I think they’ll understand.” The bartender slides your drink towards you and you thank her. You bring the straw up to your lips and lick your lips at the fruity taste. Harry almost busts in his pants from the sight of you with your lips wrapped around the straw and licking your lips. He’s hoping that’s similar to how the night will end up for the two of him.

“What about you, Harry? Here all alone?”

He almost moans at the sound of your sultry voice saying his name. “Yep. Was bored just sitting at home. Decided to swing by here after work. Don’t live too far.”

You raise your brows at the mention of his home. He didn’t have to include that detail in his little spiel, but it’s almost like he wanted you to know.

“Interesting.” You take another sip of your drink and subtly shift closer to him in your seat. Turning your legs towards him a bit more. He did notice, of course. He felt his cock starting to throb in his pants. “What do you do? School, work? Have a sugar daddy perhaps?”

He lets out a loud laugh at you. Not only were you extremely hot, but you actually had a personality, making you even more desirable.

“I actually own a record store, but the idea of a sugar daddy sounds a lot better. Not as much work, you know?”

You giggle and lean towards him a little more. “What do you do, darling?” He brings his glass to his lips, keeping eye contact with you.

“I’m a student, but I work at a diner. Very prestigious, I know.”

He chuckled, “What are you studying?”

“I’m working on my doctorate in psychology.”

He widened his eyes, “Holy shit. You’re a genius, aren’t you? That’s really impressive.”

You blushed, “Oh, well, thank you very much.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a minute. He’s chewing on his bottom lip. You can’t help but stare at it. It’s glossed over from him licking at it, and they’re full and pink, practically begging you to slide your lips between his and glide your tongue along it.

You don’t know what he was thinking, but you hope it’s similar to what you’re thinking.

As soon as you go to speak again, he cuts you off, “Would you like to come home with me?”

You feel your breath hitch. “I-I...um...actually, yes...I would like that.”

His smile takes your breath away. He grabs his wallet out of his pocket and throws down a few bills. He grabs your wrist and leads you to the exit. You make sure to signal to your friends before leaving.

Once you make it outside, you feel like you can breathe. He turns to look at you. He’s absolutely breathtaking. You send him a small smile and he feels like he’s going to burst.

He tucks your hair behind your ear and cradles your jaw with his large hand. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers.

“Yes.” You whisper back.

He stares into your eyes to check for any hesitation. When he finds none, he leans down and takes your bottom lip between his. You quietly whimper at the action and feel your knees almost buckle. You move your lips together slowly. You feel his tongue prod at your bottom lip. You open your mouth to let him enter. He swirls his tongue around your mouth and you man at the taste of him. You felt sticky between your legs.

He sucks on your tongue and tugs you closer to his body by your lower back. You get a good grip on his bicep and side of his neck. Harry has never felt this much euphoria in his life. He feels like he’s floating.

He pulls away, regretfully. A string of saliva connects you together and you giggle. He smiles and pecks your lips again. He intertwines your fingers and starts the brief walk to his flat. You stay close to him, hugging his large arm and running your hand up and down it.

He tells you his place is right around the corner and you feel your core tighten.

He opens the door to his building and gestures for you to walk in first. He presses the button to the elevator and leans down to kiss you again. He pulls back once he hears the elevator ding. He pulls you both inside and pushes you up against the wall of the lift. He starts kissing down your neck. You moan and pull on the curls on the back of his neck.

Once you arrive on his floor, he quickly walks you both to his door. He struggles to unlock, but once he does he pulls you inside. You thought he was going to begin ravishing you the second you got inside, but instead, he gives you a sweet and short kiss and leads you into his living room.

“Would you care for a drink, love?”

“Water would be great.”

He nods and tells you to have a seat. You plop yourself down on his couch and pull your coat and purse off your body, setting it on the coffee table. He walks in with two glasses of water and sits down next to you. You smile at him and take a big gulp of your water.

“We don’t have to anything.” He says suddenly.

You’re taken aback by his comment. No guy had ever said something like that to you. Even though his intention was clear when you left the bar, he wanted to make it clear that you had no obligation to do anything with him. He was respectful, hot, and funny, and you wanted to let him absolutely destroy you.

“Oh, trust me, I want to. Do you?”

He lets out a laugh, “Absolutely.”

You giggle and crawl into his lip. You straddle his hips and stare into his eyes. He licks his lips and looks down at your lips and back up. You feel his bulge underneath you and almost moaned at the feel of it against your core.

“What do you want, Harry?”

He groans and pushes his hips up to grind into you, “God, Y/N, I want to fuck you.”

“Shit...” You whimper at the feel of him bumping into your clit. “Fuck me, please.”

He sits up quickly and stands with you in his arms. He has a good grip right under your bum. Your arms are wrapped around his neck tightly. He carries you into his room, kicking the door shut. He lays you gently on the bed and hovers over you. He licks into your mouth and slides his hands up and down your sides. Your hand rests on his chest.

He kisses down your jaw and neck, littering love bites all along your neck. He grabs the end of your shirt and looks up at you.

“May I?”

You nod and lean up to tug your shirt off and unsnap your bra. He slides the straps of your bra down your arms and his mouth waters at the sight of your bare breasts. He brings his mouth down to suck at your nipple while bringing his hand up to your other breast.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so gorgeous.”

You moan out at his words and the feeling of his tongue gliding over your sensitive nipple. He switches to the other side and you lace your fingers through his hair and tug. He groans at the feeling.

He starts kissing down your body, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses, making you grow even wetter than you are. He stops when he gets to the waistband of your pants and he looks up at you. He teases you by licking along the waistband and sucking marks into your hips. You whimper and he finally gives in.

You help him by sliding your pants off your legs as he tosses his shirt to the side, not caring where it lands. He settles back between your legs. You sit up on your elbows and bend your legs so your feet are flat on the bed. He hooks his arm around your thighs and tugs you closer, so your core is right in front of his mouth.

He presses a soft kiss right over your clothed clit and you gasp. He could see a wet spot in your panties and he knew you were ready for him. He licks you through your panties to tease you once again. You let your head roll back. You didn’t even have to look at him to know he had a smirk on his face.

He doesn’t waste any more time. He pulls your panties to the side and licks a fat stripe right through your center. You let out a strangled moan and grip into his hair.

He sucks your clit into his mouth. Your legs are trying to clamp shut, but he pulls them apart and holds them open on the bed. He kitten licks your clit and holds eye contact with you. Your mouth is dropped open, letting out breathy moans. He licks down to your opening and fucks you with his tongue while rubbing your clit with his thumb.

He gets tired of holding your panties to the side because next thing you know he’s stopping his movements and ripping your panties down the middle. You feel your core clench around nothing at the sight.

He delves back into you. You feel your release bubbling in your stomach and you know you’re close. He can sense it too because he pulls back from you and replaces his tongue with his middle and ring finger.

He begins finger fucking you at a furious pace. A filthy noise filling the room along with your moans and his dirty words sending you over the edge.

As you climax, he licks your clit as he fingers you, making your legs shake and your mouth falls open to scream out his name. You ride out your orgasm on his fingers and tongue and start wriggling away from him when you get too sensitive. You’re panting and shaking from your release, but you still want to make him feel good.

You stand up and direct him to sit on the bed with his feet on the floor. You give him a kiss and can taste yourself on him. He groans into the kiss and slides his hand around to your ass to squeeze.

You drop to your knees in front of him and begin pulling down his trousers. He kicks them off. You rub your hands up and down his thighs. He leans back on his hands to give you plenty of room to work. You give him a delicate kiss over each of his fern tattoos.

You kiss his tip through his boxers and love the way his abdomen clenches at your touch. You hook your fingers into his boxers and tug them down his thick thighs.

His cock slaps against his stomach and your mouth immediately waters at the sight.

It’s big, red, veiny, and he has precum leaking out of the tip, making you want to take him into your mouth right then.

You know he’s the biggest you’ve ever seen before and definitely the biggest you’ve ever had. You wrap your hand around his girth and he moans out at the feeling of someone finally touching him.

You pump him while holding eye contact with him. He’s a mess above you, letting out strings of curses and moans. You finally give in to your urges and kiss his leaky tip.

You gather saliva in your mouth and spit down on his cock as a lubricant. His mouth drops open and he goes to say something but he’s cut off by the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him.

You take him as far down as you can, pumping him with your hand what can’t fit. You come back up and repeat the process over and over. You cup his balls with your other hand as you pump him vigorously while suckling his head.

You come up for air and an idea pops into your head.

“Harry?” You ask, your voice scratchy from having his cock down your throat.

He hums and holds your hair back from his face.

“Can you fuck my face?”

He feels his cock twitch and jaw drop at your question, not expecting that from you at all.

“Wh-what? You want m-me to-“

“Please, Daddy?”

He almost comes at the name falling from your lips. He’s always had a daddy kink but never wanted to make his partner’s uncomfortable. So when he heard you say that, something switched in him.

He grabs you by your hair and forces you to look up at him. “You want Daddy to fuck your pretty little mouth, baby?”

“Mhm, so bad. Please.”

He stands up so he can get better leverage. He gets a good grip on your hair and the side of your face.

His face softens and he stops for a minute, “You can always tell me to stop, okay?”

You nod at him, feeling your heart swell.

He taps your cheek so you open wide for him. He guides his cock into your mouth and slowly pushes in with his hips. He stifles a moan and slowly pulls out, just to make sure you were okay. Once he sees that you’re good with this, he quickens his pace. He’s snapping his hips forward and pushing his cock even further into your throat by your hair. His balls are slapping against your chin and vulgar noises fill the room. He feels his orgasm bubbling in his belly, so he pulls out. His chest is heaving. He roughly pulls you up and bends you over the bed. He gives you a light smack on the ass.

“Harder.”

He pulls your back up to his chest by your hair, “What was that, baby?”

You gulp, “Spank me harder, Daddy.”

His palm immediately slaps down on the swell of your ass harder and you gasp. It stings but feels good.

“You like that? Like when Daddy treats you like a little whore?”

He spanks you again and shoves you back down against the bed. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod, but he smacks you on the ass again. “Hm?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please, fuck me. I want to feel you stretch me out and fill me with your come. Please, Daddy.”

He spreads your cheeks open, so he can watch himself slide into your sopping wet cunt. Your pussy is like a vice on him. He has to hold himself back from coming immediately. He pushes all the way in and holds himself there.

He grips onto the back of your neck and your hip. “You okay, baby?” He leans down to give you a sweet kiss in the middle of your back.

You’re breathing heavy, but manage to let out a breathy whisper, “Yes. Move, please.”

He begins rocking into you at a hard pace. You can feel him in your tummy as he pushes into your tight cunt. He's trying to hold back from coming quickly.

He can't remember the last time he was buried inside someone like this.

He gives your ass a hard smack and feels your walls clamp around him. He groans and grabs you by your hair. He roughly pulls you up to his chest.

He brings his mouth right to your ear, "You like when Daddy spanks your pretty little ass." He gives you another smack, making you moan out. "Such a filthy little girl, aren't you?"

Your ears were ringing from the pleasure rushing through your body. Your cunt was pulsing around his cock and you could tell you were close. He's pounding into you rigorously and suddenly he pulls out. You whine at the loss of contact.

He grabs your hips and tosses you onto the bed. He fips you over and lays back over you. He reenters you and begins pounding into you. You love being able to see his face and body as he fucks you.

He really was a beautiful man and you felt lucky to have him in this way. You hold eye contact with him as he makes long, deep strokes into you. He can feel your juices coating his thighs and sweat beading his forehead.

You open your mouth wide for him and he furrows his brows. He gets the hint and spits straight into your mouth. You moan at the sensation and swallow his spit.

Harry is losing his fucking mind. Not only are you fucking breathtaking, but you're filthy and kinky. He quickens his pace and reaches down to rub your clit.

You feel your release bubbling in the pit of your stomach. Harry leans down to speak right into your ear, "Gonna come for me, baby? Be a good girl and come for Daddy. I want you to soak me."

That sends you over the edge and your orgasm rips through you. Your legs are convulsing and you're moaning out his name. As he's fucking you through your release, he's trying to hold back his own.

He finally can't take it anymore and he pulls out and gives his cock a few strokes to elongate his orgasm. He comes all over your stomach and chest. He groans loudly and flops down next to you.

That was one of the best orgasms he's ever had and he feels like he needs to sleep for a few days. Before he goes to sleep, he rolls out of his bed to get a towel to clean you off. He walks back in and gently wipes you down.

You smile at the action and thank him quietly.

"You can stay the night if you want to." He says.

You nod and pat the bed so he'll come to lay back down. He lies down and pulls you to him. He pulls the covers over you both and turns to spoon you. He kisses your shoulder and whispers in your ear to sleep well.

Harry went to sleep with a smile on his face.  

pt 2

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles smut

[crystal-snowing]

forbidden fruit | lee felix

synopsis: you were told to stay away by your parents and the rest of society, but that was nearly impossible when he just looks so goddamn irresistible.

genre: enemies to lovers!au, gang!au, college!au, angst, fluff

pairing: rich!reader x gangster!felix

word count: 15.9k 

warnings: slight violence, explicit language, mentions kidnapping

a/n: i’ve been thinking about writing a longer fic for quite some time now and i think i went a bit overboard on this one, but i hope you guys enjoy in nevertheless ! also special thanks to @crscendoforsung​, mwah soro ! 

one. 

If there was one thing that your parents warned you about, it was to stay away from Stray Kids, also known as the most prominent and dangerous gang in the city. This warning was drilled into your head ever since you were a young child, as you were told two things, to stay away from the south side of town and to never associate with known members of this gang. They were two simple rules to follow, and for the past nineteen years of your life, those were two simple rules to follow. And up until last year, you were proud to say that you have never seen or associated with one of those things. But that all changed in your senior year of high school. A new mayor was recently elected to govern the city and insisted on fixing the abnormal disparity between the extremely wealthy and the extremely poor, while this mostly included building new luxury apartment complexes and stores in the less fortunate side of town. However,  there was one policy that enraged your parents and the rest of those on the privileged side of town—that the next school year, the mayor was taking eight students from the other side of town and having them enroll in your prestigious school system for the remainder of their educational journey. 

No amount of protesting or defiance from your parents or the rest of the community could possibly persuade the mayor to change his mind, and just like that it was done, your entire world would be forever changed. 

It was your first semester at college, and on top of that, it was also the first semester of for the new students to be admitted onto your side of town. That day was vividly etched in your memory, your parents helping you pack your bags into the car, hugging you goodbye and giving you a final reminder to not cause any trouble while you’re there. They didn’t need to say it, but you knew that the words were on the tip of their tongue. The essence of that phrase surrounded you and practically swallowed you, it was in the way they squeezed just a little too tightly or the way their gaze lingered on you a little too long as the car finally pulled out of the driveway and you waved goodbye. 

This was your promise to them, and the only promise that you needed to keep—no matter the circumstances, you were not allowed to associate or be near any of those gang members. 

However, you had to admit that there was some alluring about them. They were the talk of the entire campus, even among the freshmen class, the campus was alive with their arrival. Of course, they stood out from every other student on campus, and when they were walking it was the parting of the Red Sea, every other student making space (either out of fear or shock) to allow them to pass through. Dressed in all black, hoods on and masks covering their entire face except their eyes—they were the epitome of a notorious gang. Even though they passed by you for only a second, they had already piqued your interest, but you had made a promise and you were not willing to let some scum destroy everything that you and your parents have worked so hard for. You were determined and nothing was going to stand in your way, after going through twelve years of schooling and enduring the countless tutors and towers of textbooks, you worked your ass to get to where you are today. And you would be damned if you allowed a few lowlifes to stand in your way, after all, no matter how educated they become they wouldn’t be able to change the fact that they were nothing but garbage from the other side of town—in the end, they would never be able to change who they truly are.

That incident was only a small one in comparison to the many that happened that day. You had almost forgotten to remind yourself that it was also your first day of college as well, and soon the memory of early this morning was soon forgotten in the sea of other memories and experiences that happened the rest of that morning. The orientation was brief, the dean’s speech ending with a round of applause as the entire freshman class was soon released to go to classes and begin to adjust to the campus lifestyle. It was kind of stuffy and crowded inside the auditorium and you were glad that all the boring formalities were over and done with, finally you were able to go to your classes and escape the large mass of people. You stood from the velour red chair and your way outside, where the sunlight and the fresh air felt good against your skin after spending nearly two hours in the dark auditorium. 

It was only when you made eye contact with one of them, did your heart really snap out of your dazed state. Your eyes were not fully adjusted to the bright sunlight and for a moment you could have been mistaken about who or what you could have seen, but you soon realized that there was no mistaking the all black clothes that he adorned or his slightly dyed strawberry blond hair. He was standing furthest from the group of three other boys that were also dressed from head-to-toe in the dark color, and while you could have chosen to make eye contact with any of the four boys, he stood out to you the most. And there it was again, this feeling of intrigue—attraction, as he stood less than seven feet away from you. 

The two of you couldn’t have been staring at each other for more than a few seconds, when one of his friends slapped on the head, calling out his name and making a joke that you couldn’t really make out from where you were standing. Just like that, the spell was broken and as you glanced at your phone for the time, you realized that you were running late for class. You watched as his friends bid him goodbye before walking off in the opposite direction, and before you could believe that everything that happened in the past few seconds was just a dream, his warm brown eyes once again made eye contact with your own [E/C] eyes. Clearing your throat, you whipped your head around and immediately began walking away from the mysterious boy and towards your first class of the day, the object that was supposed to capture more of your attention compared to this insignificant delinquent. And while it was possible to convince yourself that the awkward encounter that just took place between you and that strawberry blond boy was nothing out of the ordinary, the reddening of your cheeks definitely told a different story.

It had only been a few minutes since you arrived in the lecture hall, while you were not the first one to enter, you certainly weren’t late which was honestly all that mattered to you. Taking out your phone, you decided to scroll through some of your social media pages in order to pass the time, and you were barely a minute into your Instagram feed when you felt a presence sit down next to you. Glancing up from your screen, you were met with a wall of black clothing. Upon a closer inspection, you could see that he was wearing a black leather jacket, a white cotton t-shirt, black jeans, and a black mask covering half of his face. His skin was pale, but had an entire galaxy of freckles that decorated his nose and cheeks, and his eyes were a warm shade of espresso brown. 

“Excuse me?” 

Sparing you only a glance, he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, before pulling out one of his airpods before looking at you again, only then did you have his full attention. There was honestly no way to approach this without sounding rude, but you had no other choice, and honestly he happened to be quite fortunate that it was you giving him this lecture instead of other students, who wouldn’t hesitate to rip him to shreds compared to you who was doing your best to try at least be semi-polite and give him some useful advice in order to survive in this new world. 

“There are tons of seats in this hall and I was wondering if you could maybe not sit next to me? Considering that we don’t know each other and how much I enjoy my personal space and I would appreciate it if you could maybe move a couple chairs down or maybe a whole another row—” your polite speech was interrupted by his low but hearty laugh, as he removed his face mask to reveal his plump pink lips.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to move my seat since you believe, and I quote, ‘am violating your personal space’?” he paused, cocking one of his eyebrows with a smirk sitting on his lips, “sweetheart, if it bothers you that much, how about you get up and move yourself?” 

You were absolutely flabbergasted to say the least, and couldn’t believe that someone like him had the audacity to even suggest something like that to someone like you. His attention had refocused back on the device in front of him, and it was clear that by his demeanor that he wasn’t going to be moving any time soon and you were stuck next to him for the remainder of class. This left you with two options, either move and give him the satisfaction of successfully bullying you into submission or stay exactly where you are and stand your ground against a brat like him. And with a small huff, you released your grip on your bag and the rest of your belongings before crossing your arms and focusing on your phone once again. There was no way in hell were you going to give this asshole the satisfaction of seeing you pissed off, instead you stood your ground and watched as the professor finally stood at the center of the room and quieted the class down in order to begin his introduction. 

And for the rest of the class out of the corner of your eyes, you couldn’t help but see that smirk envelop the lips of the boy sitting next to you, the very sight of it making your blood boil and your face flushed. Whoever this boy was you were certain of only one thing, he was nothing but an arrogant prick.

two. 

The cafe across the street from your dorm has become one of your favorite places on the entire campus, especially when you needed to study. Not only did they have the best drinks on campus, the pastries were to die for, and every time you walked through the doors you were reminded of that as the sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar filled your nose. Cafe 4419 was never too noisy nor was it ever too quiet, the lo-fi playlist and soft murmur from the patrons made it one of your favorite sanctuaries to stay apart from your dorm. 

While it was only a few weeks into college, half of the first semester has already flown by and you were practically swimming in essays, projects and studying for upcoming tests. Which is how you found yourself here, spending almost every waking second at the cafe with your favorite drink by your side and piles of textbooks and papers towered around you. Anybody passing by would have immediately assumed that it was finals season, instead of simply being just an ordinary test during the first semester. But you were serious about your academics and grades, and you were not about to let something ruin your concentration that you had going for you. 

This was the one place where you could also find an escape from those people. Everywhere else around campus that you seemed to find yourself, it was only a matter of minutes before you were humbly graced with their presence. They seemed to be everywhere and the only two places on campus where you seemed to be safe from them was your own dorm room and this cafe. In a way it sort of is your sanctuary, one of the few places where you didn’t have to see their depressing black clothing, scowling faces or even hear about their very being. Instead, it was just you, your textbooks, notes, and computer—the way it should be, and you were experiencing nothing but pure bliss. 

And that moment was completely shattered, when the screech of the stool across the wooden floors next to you and the slamming of an iced coffee of some sort onto the table. 

Glaring up at the perpetrator, you weren’t surprised to be faced with a wall of black clothing, including the infamous leather jacket. As your eyes traveled higher up, you were finally met with a pair of brown eyes and a cocky expression looking down on you. Him. The same boy who had the audacity to sit right next to you during your first lecture, currently has the audacity to interrupt your precious study time. His appearance was practically unchanged since the last time you saw him less than a week ago, his strawberry blond hair was a bit more faded than before but his irises still sparkled with that same mischievous and playful glint. 

“Fancy running into you here,” he smirked, moving to sit down next to you. His thigh was quick to press up against your own, as you flinched—moving your leg away as if you were being burned. He didn’t acknowledge your actions, instead his eyes seemed to be locked onto your own, scanning over your facial features as if he was studying and reading your every move and expression. 

“What do you want?” 

He put his hands in surrender attempting to show you that he means no harm and that he’s not a threat, but with that sparkle in his eyes and that sly expression never leaving his face. 

“I know we kind of started off on the wrong foot, but I was hoping that we could fix that” he paused, stretching out his hand, “I’m Lee Felix,” he introduced himself with a wink. It was nice to finally put a name to the face, but in all honesty, you didn’t really give a damn about what his name was or were you curious about what he wanted from you. Apparently, it was too much for you to ask him to leave you alone, either that or he was too dense to get the hint. 

“Alright, Felix, as much as I enjoyed resolving that little issue, I’m extremely busy. So, if you wouldn’t mind?” 

Shooting him one final glare, you assumed that this was the end of the conversation between the two of you, and all you needed to do was to wait for him to leave and refocus back on the mountains of papers in front of you. However, you were naive to think that this was the end of your conversation, and as far as you could tell with Lee Felix, he always needed to have the last word. 

‘You know, my feelings were deeply hurt the day we met, and I think it’s only fair for you to make it up to me,” something in his tone of voice shifted causing you to whip your head in his direction and away from the studyguide in front of you. This should have been a major red flag, a glaring neon sign starring right in front of you, but you would be lying if you didn’t say that he intrigued you. Perhaps it was your upbringing, or maybe it was the incessant warnings about people like him, you weren’t sure—the only thing you knew in that moment, for once in your life, he had your undivided attention. “My grades are kind of slipping and in order to keep this scholarship and stay at this ‘prestigious’ school they need to be a bit higher,” he paused before flashing you a blinding smile, “so I was thinking that you could tutor me and we could really spend some more time getting to know one another,” he finished before ending his proposal with a wink. 

You had to give it to him, the dirtbag had guts. 

The confidence and ego that seemed to ooze out of him was unbelievable and it was hard to believe that people like him still existed. And just like that, you were once again uninterested in the boy sitting in front of you. 

“Is that all? I think you already know my answer to that question, now if you could excuse me,” rolling your eyes, you wave him off with a dismissive flick of your wrist. Of course, you should have expected that this wasn’t all that he had planned, he wasn’t known for being a quitter especially when it came to people like you. The two of you were more similar than either of you cared to realize and unbeknownst to you, Lee Felix was determined not to walk out here without having your number in his back pocket and a promise that you were going to see him again. Instead, he did what he did best—completely disregard what he’s been told and follow his instincts. 

“Think about this for a moment, the infamous and obviously talented child of the [L/N] refusing to help a poor and unfortunate boy like me, surely that won’t make a great impression on the professors or even the media once they catch word of this,” he shrugged letting the weight of words sink in. You hated to admit it, but he was right. Your family was powerful, but in exchange for that power, every single thing that you did was scrutinized—your daily lives constantly under the microscope. While it was considerably bad press to be seen around people like him, especially with the amount of warnings that you received from your parents as well as other members in the community, there was no denying that it was perhaps even worse press for you to completely ignore and reject him. “It’s really up to you, princess/prince.” 

You had no choice, and he knew it. 

“Fine, I’ll tutor you,” you turned away from him for a second to grab a pen before scribbling your phone number on a piece before ripping it off and handing it to him. Before he could take it from your hand, you snatched the piece of paper from out of his reach. “Just letting you know, I’m not doing this for you. Meet me at the library on Friday and make sure you’re not late.”

Grabbing the slip of paper out your hand, and his drink in the other, he stood and made his way towards the door. You couldn’t help but watch him go, a frown present on your face. With a final wink, he was gone and out the door, and you could finally relax and relieve all the tension that was built up in your shoulders. Mentally scolding yourself, you wondered how the hell you even ended up in a situation like this, in a matter of only weeks you managed to break the only promise to your parents and somehow make acquaintances with one of the very people that you swore to hate. 

At this point it was useless to try and study, there was no way that you could possibly study after a distraction like that. Gathering your materials, before haphazardly shoving them into your bag, and grabbing your drink and walking out of the cafe door. The weather was transitioning between autumn and winter, the brisk air blew against your face as you walked, your mind replaying everything that happened within the span of a few minutes. 

Scoffing to yourself, you shook your head as you made your way back to your dorm. Fine, if Lee Felix wanted to make an enemy out of you, then so be it, and from this day forward you were determined to make his life a living hell.

three. 

After sitting in the library for almost half an hour, you were about a millimeter away from losing your shit. As usually the library was pretty quiet and the only noises that could be heard were the faint rustling of papers and the dull hum of the heater. You had threatened him not to be late, and you had even promised him that you would leave if he was even a minute late, but somehow you found yourself sitting at one of the many wooden tables in the gigantic library tapping your pencil impatiently. You should leave, that much was obvious, but there was some part of you that was holding onto hope that he was going to show. Standing up, you scolded yourself for being so foolish, you were smarter than this—you were smarter than him—but somehow you allowed yourself to end up in this situation, again. 

“Sorry I’m late, princess/prince, I got caught up with a few things.” 

You didn’t even hear him approach, but as you turned around you were met with his figure. It seemed like his entire wardrobe was composed of only dark clothing, his outfit pretty much the same as it was less than four days ago. The only difference was the gold chain that he adorned around his neck, which was a stark contrast compared to his black clothing. He noticed how your eyes seemed to be drawn to the flashy object, before he quickly placed the object underneath his shirt and cleared his throat. However, there was something different about his appearance than before, his hair was a bit messier and tousled than usual, his skin glistened and was a bit more flushed, and there were visible red or pink marks that littered his neck. 

Oh. 

That realization finally seemed to draw you from your daze, as you stared back at him, your steely [E/C] eyes met his mahogany ones. Under your gaze his eyes seemed to soften a bit and it wasn’t until he saw your arms crossed against your chest did he realize the gravity of his mistake. 

“You’re late,” you practically growled, “if you’re not going to take this seriously then fine, I told you not to waste my time and if you’re going to be a piece of—” 

Felix’s hard and once impenetrable exterior was suddenly cracked by the fierceness and fire that shone in your eyes, only then did he feel some sort of small pang inside his hair. This was an entirely foreign feeling to him, and even stranger was that you were the one causing him to feel this way. For his entire life he has been dealing with people like you, those that dripped with wealth and decadence, but he knew that there was a hidden evil within them. The facade was only a ploy to distract from the devil inside of them—they were malicious, unforgiving, monsters that from day one have done nothing but persecute people like him. People like him were rendered powerless against the people like them, kicked to the desolate part of town and condemned to live a life of misfortune and suffering. Felix knew exactly what to say that would make your blood boil, that would aggravate you till you wouldn’t be able to stand the mention of his name, he knew exactly what to do to make you despise him even more, and yet his mouth and words failed him. 

For once, he didn’t know what to say, so he instead slammed his books down on the table—the sound echoing in the almost silent library. A sound like that was bound to have repercussions, and the glares and disgusted looks you received was enough to force you into submission. You should have just walked out of the door, but going against your better judgement and rationale, you decided to stay. Sitting down, you pulled the textbooks and notebooks from your bag as Felix sat next to you taking out his own materials. Flipping the book to the first page, you pointed at the first problem. 

“Let’s start with this problem first and make sure you show all your work,” you gestured to the first of many problems in the workbook, “oh, and if you’re ever late again because of some dick appointment, I’ll make sure that every single person on this campus knows how small that four inch dick of yours really looks like.”

After that, the two of you seemed to fall into a comfortable rhythm. There was minimal talking between the two of you, coming to the mutual agreement that you were only here for one purpose and one purpose only. But, just because he stopped bickering with you for once didn’t necessarily make your job any easier. There wasn’t really any nice way to put it, but he was horrible at everything. It was expected of course, unlike the other students that attended the prestigious JYP University he didn’t need to pass the rigorous entrance exam nor did he need extremely high grades in high school. You had your work cut out for you, but you weren’t one to back down from a challenge. But that didn’t mean that Felix was going to make it easy on you. 

While you have tutored other students in the past before, you could safely say that none of them were quite like Lee Felix. Never have you met someone so unmotivated and lazy. He was the one who was practically begged for your help, and now he’s sitting here with his head resting against his arm absentmindedly doodling in the margins of the book. 

“Look, if you’re not going to take this seriously then what are we even doing here? You’re just wasting my time and your own,” you huffed, tapping your pen harshly against the workbook to stir the strawberry blond from his thoughts. “At least you could pretend to do the work that I’m assigning you, instead of blatantly ignoring everything I say.” 

That grabbed his attention, as he sat up straighter and stretched his arms over his head as he rolled his eyes. “That’s easy for you to say when you’ve had everything handed to you all of your life. I bet you don’t even understand what it’s like to have to work hard for something, princess/prince,” he scoffed. Your head snapped in his direction, his words echoing in your head. 

What the fuck did he just say to you?

“You think I’ve had it easy, well newsflash, princess/price, you’re not the only one whose had a hard life. Yes, privilege does exist but don’t you even think for a damn second that I haven’t worked in order to get here to this university. Just because you were admitted on a scholarship and without taking the entrance exam, doesn’t mean that it was the case for everybody,” you huffed as you stood up, causing an abrupt noise as the chair slid against the wooden floors. “My parents used their money to buy their way through life, but there is only so much money can buy. And if you really think that I bought my way into the school, then why did you even ask me to tutor you in the first place?” 

Your last outburst received the nastiest glares from the other students around the both of you, and if looks could kill you would have been dead over ten times over. But at the moment you couldn’t care less, this was your final farewell—your final “go-fuck-yourself” to Lee Felix so you could finally be rid of this parasite. With the last slam of your chair, you turned away from the male and made your hasty escape towards the exit of the library. 

If you ever saw him again before the year was over, it would be too soon.

four.

This year was probably the year of firsts for Lee Felix, in addition to meeting you he was also beginning to experience these foreign emotions that came along with you. In no way shape or form was he a bully, instead he often had some certain choice words for those that exhibited egotistical and arrogant qualities—and in his defense, they were usually the ones who started it. He was known for his unforgiving nature, after all, there was no way he could live the lifestyle he did without being this way. This feeling of guilt and regret was new for him, in his opinion what he said to you wasn’t even the worst thing to make it past those lips, yet the look of fiery passion and hurt that was written across your features was enough to make him think twice. He felt apologetic, even though he practically spits poison every day to people like you, something about you attracted him, pulled him in and made you different. 

That being said, he was horrible at apologizing. 

Which was why when you could feel a presence next to you during the next lecture, you didn’t even bat an eyelash. Nor did you even dare to look at him as he slammed something down on your desk, before turning away and mumbling to himself. Upon further inspection, you found a Coke can sitting untouched and unopened with a note taped to the front with two simple words written on it. 

I’m sorry. 

Rolling your eyes, you glanced to the right where you knew he would be sitting with some of his other friends. They were always the ones making the most noise in the class, treating the lecture as a study hall instead of an opportunity for growth and maturation. You could spot three of them easily, their freshly dyed hair sticking out sorely in the sea of neutral colors. They were too far away for you to tell what they were talking about, but their gleeful expressions and smiles etched on their faces probably meant that they were up to no good. You could spot Felix immediately, he distanced himself from his group of friends. While he still engaged in the conversation, he was passive, his brown eyes dull as his mind seemed to be elsewhere. 

This was the first time that you have seen the fire extinguished from his eyes, and he looked so goddamn pitiful. As if he could sense your eyes, his face turned to meet yours, his eyes catching you red-handed. His expression was complex, to say the least. On the one hand, all traces of  remorse and regret seemed to disappear completely and was replaced with another emotion that you couldn’t read. Furiously you turned away from him, your cheeks dusted with a pink hue. Thankfully, before he could manage to approach you the professor entered at the front of the room and began the lecture, your thoughts now becoming full of Shakespeare’s prose and the impact of foil characters in Romeo and Juliet, leaving no room to worry about that imbecile. 

You had to admit, Lee Felix definitely did have some charms. If he didn’t have something at least, then there would be no reason why you found yourself sitting next to him in this empty lecture hall, the both of you sprawled over notebooks and countless works of Shakespeare at your disposal. You should be mad at him, furious even, he was nothing but a good-for-nothing gangster who had the audacity to insult you—but here you were, crawling back to him. But, even through his shitty apology you somehow found it hard to stay away. He was dangerous, the closest thing that you had to breaking the rules and to give him up would be bringing your life back to normalcy—uneventful, boring and you would be damned if you ever had to give him up and return to life before. As infuriating as he was, he came into your life like a whirlwind and while at times he made your life a living hell, you kind of enjoyed his presence. 

Of course you were wary about tutoring him again, but your fear was soon quelled by the fact  that his personality seemed to have done a complete flip from the day before. Not only was he attentive, but it just goes to show that if he would just sit down and put his ego in check for a second, then maybe he actually had a chance at succeeding at this school. With his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth nibbling softly on his lower lip as his hand moved quickly across the paper to solve the problem. His hair would continually fall in front of his eyes as he concentrated, and he kept swiping at it every so often. Your hand itches to reach away and brush away those stray locks, but you refrain yourself from doing so, instead opting to pick at your sleeve as you admired his expression. 

“It’s getting late,” your voice sounded foreign against the silence, those three words being the first thing you have said to him in the past few hours. “Maybe we should call it a night, and continue next week.” He nodded, prying his eyes away from the rows of words in front of him, helping you gather your materials into one place and pack them into your bag. Wordlessly, you both pushed in your chairs before exiting the lecture hall together. 

The walk outside was silent, while the previous argument didn’t necessarily still hang in the air, it’s presence was still made apparent due to the wall of tension between the two of you. The campus was softly being illuminated by the streetlights that littered the property, aided slightly by the moonlight that seemed to cast the entire scenery in a different light. There was something different about the university when the sun went down, while it certainly wasn’t a ghost town (the constant parties on campus made sure of that) it made the campus look almost softer and whimsical in a sense. The ancient buildings that were used as classrooms during the day time had transformed into castles, the streets practically shining when the moonlight sparkled on them and you—you felt as if you could rule it all. 

You both stopped in front of a sleek black Harley Davidson, the motorcycle in pristine condition and didn’t have a single scratch on it. There was no denying how expensive this was, and for once it looked as if he actually belonged at this school with a ride like that. You knew this was where the two of you were meant to part ways. For you, it was back to the dormitories—hopefully being able to sneak in before room check and for him, back to his other life, doing whatever misfits like him do best by causing mischief and mayhem in the dead of night.

This was your cue to leave, turn on your heels and rush back to your dorm room, but you couldn’t help but stand there and watch him. Felix looked absolutely ethereal in the moonlight, his tan skin glowing and eyes sparkling—and you were entranced, watching him unclip the helmet from the handlebars of his motorcycle and holding it in his hands There was this unknown tightening in your chest, this foreign hitch in your breath, your hands growing clammy as the seconds continued to pass on. 

“Here, put this on. I like to think that I’m a safe driver, but safety first,” his voice calls out to you, before the black helmet was tossed your way. Fumbling with the object for a few seconds, you finally caught it as your brain finished rebooting. As you looked down at the helmet, and back at him you were at a loss of words. “Well, are you coming or not? I don’t have all day, princess/prince.” 

His head was cocked to the side, and while his words had a bit of bite to them, his expression is playful. You were supposed to be the rational one in this situation, and the “correct” answer was clearly staring you right in the face. You were old enough to take care of yourself, and you certainly didn’t need a dollar-store version of a knight in shining armor to take you home. 

“I can make it back on my own, thanks for the offer—”

It took him two strides in order to make it over to you and a total of ten seconds to get you on the bike. Two seconds in order to yank the helmet out of your hands, three seconds to secure it on your head, three seconds to pull you onto the vehicle behind him and two seconds to wrap your arms loosely around his waist. 

“Hold on tight.” 

That was the last thing he uttered to you, before he revved the engine and the two of you sped off into the night. At this rate, it was too late to even think about getting off unless you wanted to seriously injure yourself. Instead, you opted for clinging onto his body and pressing yourself flat against his back as you held on for dear life. Immediately, you could feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach the moment the vehicle started, the wind practically making you deaf as the scenery of campus whipped around you in a blur. Yes, you were scared, after all you were riding around on a death trap with a boy that you barely know and who was currently in control of your life. Despite all of these factors, there was something exhilarating about riding with Felix. The feeling of your hair whipping around you, speeding through the empty streets of campus and the faint smell of sandalwood and lemon that emitted from him was intoxicating. And it was safe to say that you were drunk off this feeling. 

By the time Felix pulled in front of your dorm room, you were still buzzed and your senses were working over time trying to process everything around you. It wasn’t long before reality washed harshly over you, removing your arms from his toned waist and scrambling off the bike, the helmet still sitting lop-sided on your head. Your whole body was aflame, every place where you made contact with him was burning and your heart was beating painfully loud against your chest. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you muttered, clearing your throat, avoiding eye contact with him. He didn’t say anything in return, instead placing the break down on the motorcycle and walking over to you. His fingers brushed against your face as he unclipped the helmet, which sent a new wave of heat to rush to your cheeks, before he took the safety gear off you and tucked it under his arm. If you had blinked, you might have missed the way his eyes flitted over your lips, as he unconsciously licked his lips before turning on his heel and making his way back to his vehicle. 

The only evidence that this wasn’t a dream and was real life was the faint smell of gasoline and the roar of a motorcycle in the distance, signalling his departure. 

five.

Over the next few weeks, the two of you have met at the university’s cafe between eight and ten times for the purpose of studying. Granted, you both were studying (only because Felix knew you would have his head if he didn’t concentrate) but there was this underlying reason why you both kept coming back. His presence was like a drug, addicting and thrilling, and you couldn’t keep away. Both of you were chasing that high, the overwhelming feeling of euphoria and you were both relentless in reaching your goal. It started that night that he dropped you off at your dorm, and ever since then you’ve been hooked. His lips didn’t even manage to touch yours, and you were quite disappointed at this fact, but you weren’t going to let him go that easily, no if he wanted you to work for it, then so be it. And that’s how you found yourself, practically slaving away over textbooks all for him. 

It has become a ritual for the two of you to linger outside of his lecture hall on exam day. He would always pick you up from your dorm that morning and take you to his classroom, where you would both wait until the very last second before leaving his presence. Time with him was precious, it was fleeting and you always wanted to spend just a second longer with him. He looked gorgeous in the sunlight as it tangled itself up in his locks of hair, bouncing off his dewy tan skin before capturing his entire body in its rays. A cup of coffee always in his left hand, while his right held onto a packet of stapled papers, his messy scrawling decorated the pages and there were a few places where your neat handwriting made an appearance as he recited some facts off the sheets. 

“So, the whole point of having Fortinbras and just mentioning him in the play is to be a foil character for Hamlet?” 

“Sort of, remember Fortinbras was also trying to take over Denmark as revenge for Hamlet murdering his father,” you reminded him, shaking your finger gently in front of his face. There was a teasing expression written on your face, and he returned it with a sneer of his own. You both stopped a couple of feet in front of the entrance of the classroom as he took the stack of papers before smacking his forehead with them, a groan escaping his lips. 

“I give up, how about we ditch this exam and instead I’ll treat you to your favorite pastries at that bakery down the block,” he suggested, lifting the papers away from his face and giving you a dazzling smile. On any other person, by this point they would be putty in his hands and he would easily be able to have his way with them. But you knew better, and for the most part you would like to think that you were immune to his charms. 

“Are you trying to bribe me, Felix?” 

Your eyes narrowed at his choice of words with one eyebrow raised, but a teasing smirk was dancing across your lips. Rolling his eyes in your direction, he placed his hands up as if he was surrendering as a small chuckle escaped his lips. 

“Me? I would never!” Sarcasm dripped off every word that he spoke, turning away you as he refocused his attention back on the study guide in front of him as a look of disgust overcame his features. “I want to know, how likely is it that you’ll still associate with me even after I fail this test, because the odds are currently not in my favor.” 

There was something about his tone of voice that seemed to throw you off a little bit. Yes, he was still trying to keep the conversation with you as playful as possible, but you could hear the slight undertone of insecurity and doubt in his voice. He was genuinely worried about this test and it showed. It was quite an odd sight to witness, the boy who weeks before didn’t care about anything except annoying the crap out of you was worried about something as mundane as a test. 

“Hmm, well if you fail this exam then I’m not sure we can be friends anymore,” you slyly spoke, “you know, I don’t associate myself with losers.” 

The word “friends” caused something to bloom inside his chest, a warm feeling spreading throughout his entire body. Honestly, he’s never really thought to put a definition on your relationship, sure the two of you have spent a lot time together the past few weeks to study and cram for this exam, but everything wasn’t exactly business related. There were times during those sessions where you would both chuck erasers and pencils at each other, making fun of each other’s favorite foods and having conversations that were far from the original topic of the works of William Shakespeare. He enjoyed your presence, and liked having you around, and if being your friend meant that he could continue standing by your side then so be it. 

“I’m a loser? Says the one who literally spends all their time studying and didn’t know how to let loose until I showed you how—your definition of ‘fun’ was spending four hours isolated at the library reading about the influential aspects of Renaissance paintings in modern art,” Felix countered, thinking back fondly on the memory.

The two of you continued to playfully bicker even after entering the lecture hall, only managing to quiet down as soon as the professor began administering the test. You finished a lot quicker than he did, and you could see his pained expression as he continued to struggle with the assignment for the next hour. The class was silent, students either leaving after the examination was completed or were sitting quietly on their phones waiting for the rest of the class to finish the exam, and with everyone mostly distracted it gave you a good excuse to admire him from afar. His face was contorted with a whole bunch of different emotions running through his features, and while you were considering helping him on at least one problem, it would violate your code of ethics—not to mention that he was a big boy, and you were confident that he could manage by himself. 

It was another forty minutes before he finished, standing up with a visible frown on his face as he handed the test back to the professor before making his way back to you. Both of you walked out the classroom side-by-side and in silence, and as you exited the building you began to notice the worry that seemed to have etched itself into his face. Slapping him lightly on the bicep, you brought him out of his stupor and flashed him a smile that seemed to calm his racing heart for now. 

“Relax, let’s go to the cafe down the street to get your mind off this test. Remember, I accept bribes in the form of anything that has caffeine or is sugary and sweet,” you suggested, looping your arm with his and tugging him towards the building. 

And for about half an hour, that seemed to do the trick. The test was soon forgotten as he watched you devour a cinnamon bun, and drink at least two cups of coffee as you both chatted aimlessly about miscellaneous things. It wasn’t until he was walking you back to your dorm and he heard a ping! from his cellphone did the worrisome thoughts come flooding back in. 

“95, huh I knew the professor was going to drop that question,” you shrugged, glancing down at your phone, before pocketing it. As you looked back on his figure, you could see his face fall slightly behind the phone, and you knew this meant bad news. “Come on, it can’t be that bad.” 

Felix tugged the phone out of your reach, holding it over his head as you came closer and stood underneath him. The two of you were only a few inches apart, and you could practically hear his heart hammering in his chest, and the warmth from his breath as he towered over you. 

“Promise you won’t get mad,” a small but playful pout sat on his lips as he continued to hold the phone out of your reach. Rolling your eyes, you continued to jump and try to reach the phone, but since he was taller than you it was pretty much impossible for you to reach. “Hmm, an 80 isn’t that terrible for studying is it?” 

It was back, his signature cocky smirk that repulsed yet attracted you at the same time, flitting across his lips. With your mouth agape, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be feeling at the moment. All you were aware of was the surge of undistinguishable emotions that flooded your body and before you could even begin to process what was going on, your arms somehow find their way around his waist with your head resting against his chest. His entire body stiffened up at your touch and you could feel his heart racing against your ear, your heart beating at the same speed. Only a few seconds seemed to pass, before you could feel his hands on your body, they were tentative at first, but soon held you with as much strength as you gripped his body. 

There it was again, a few seconds late and you would have missed it. Despite the redness in your cheeks and the overwhelming amount of embarrassment that radiated off of you, your eyes glanced up to meet his own, watching as they tentatively flitted over your lips. He seemed unsure of himself, deciding whether he really wanted to follow through with his actions, and in that split second he decided to risk it all, casually leaning in—hoping to close the already short space between your bodies. 

They are nothing but worthless nobodies and they will bring you nothing but trouble. Promise me, you’ll stay as far away as possible from them, please. 

In an instant, your body untangled itself from his, your breath ragged and your eyes darting everyone except his face. He stood there dumbfounded, he wanted to reach out to you, to ask what he did wrong—was he misinterpreting the signals, imagine the chemistry between the two of you, did he make a mistake? You barely had enough brain power to focus on him as you could feel your heart crumbling inside of your ribcage, your breath coming out in short spurts as you struggled to regain control over the situation at hand. You couldn’t recognize yourself anymore, the person that you have become after attending the university for a few measly months and you have already strayed so far from where you started. But this wasn’t the type of growth that you could be proud of, fraternizing with the enemy, the same enemy that you were warned countless times before to stay away from. 

This was wrong—everything was wrong. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, your life wasn’t supposed to come to this point as you stood here as living proof of everything that your parents despised. But, you weren’t that far from salvation. You had been delusional for months, and it was about time that you started making amends. Whatever thing that you had with him was now over, and it was about time that you began living the life that your parents wanted you to have, free from parasites and monstrosities like him. 

Muttering some sort of excuse, you backed away from him before taking off back to your dorm, leaving in your wake a bewildered heartbroken (although he would never admit it) Lee Felix in your wake. 

six. 

You have successfully managed to avoid him for three days, but you knew that was just luck. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand, you have told him a numerous amount of times where you were throughout the day and well, old habits die hard. Honestly, if he really wanted to find you he would have done it already, but he was being a gentleman and giving some personal space to let you calm down before the confrontation happened. You were grateful in a sense, you needed this time to reflect on what an utter disaster you have become. This has gone on for too long, what started off as bringing some joy and excitement to your dull life has spiraled out of control. You lost yourself in the process, fading to the background as this unrecognizable version has taken center stage. What would your parents say if they saw you like this, completely different from the child they raised you to become, fraternizing with the enemy and sympathizing with the same scum they told you to avoid for your entire life. 

Regret oozed through your entire being and you wished that you could take back everything that has happened. You should have turned him down that fateful day, rejected him cold-heartedly in the cafe, and let the rumors come about you and your family—the outcome would have probably been better than your current reality. While you couldn’t go back and change the past, you could instead work on mending the future, which is why you thrusted yourself back into your studies at full force. There was no place for distractions where you’re heading, and you assumed it would be easy to surround yourself with other intellectuals that shared your same passion and drive. 

This would prove more difficult than you originally assumed. The atmosphere on campus has changed completely, and to put it frankly, you were being avoided like the fucking plague. Every time you walked past a group of students, you could hear the hushed whispers and feel the glares being directed your way. Obviously, they were smart enough not to say their comments loud enough for you to hear or for you to catch them staring, as they looked away as soon as you even turned your head in their direction. Even some of your friends, the same ones that you’ve known perhaps your entire life would even spare a glance in your direction. You could even feel the glares from some of the members of Stray Kids, and while you were not necessarily on speaking terms with them, it didn’t give them an excuse to be rude with you.

You did your best to ignore the lingering looks and comments throughout the day, but as you strolled out of your last class of the day, you couldn’t stand it any longer. In particular, there was a group of girls that you have practically known all of your life, ever since elementary school, who had the audacity to mutter your name and laugh as you walked by—and that was your breaking point. You were usually a patient person and usually weren’t quick to rush to judgement, but this was the last straw. Rolling up your sleeves, you marched up to them with a scowl written across your face.. 

“If you have a problem with me you should say something to my face instead of talking shit behind my back, you fucking cowards,” you hissed, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you glared at them. Two of the girls mumbled something under their breath, tugging at the sleeves of the main girl in the center. But, she wasn’t intimidated by you, instead she took a step forward till your faces were only a couple inches apart. 

“[L/N] [Y/N], long time no see. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, is he off robbing some banks?” her voice was shrill as she hissed out that insult. Her behavior was typical, and while she appeared to act condescending and superior towards you, her true emotions were written as plain as day across her face—she was jealous. It was in the way her rhetorical question had that unnecessary sharpness curled at the end of words or the way the scowl on her face was a little more prominent than it needed to be. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame her. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Lee Felix was quite an attractive person, but that was all besides the point. He wasn’t yours to begin with and whatever relationship the two of you had was now nonexistent, so it didn’t matter how pretty you find his face. 

“He’s not my boyfriend, so if you could kindly back the—” you huffed, readjusting the stack of papers and textbooks in your arms. 

“Whatever, look we don’t mean any harm, honestly we’re just worried about you, honey. I mean, you’ve heard the rumors about people like them, they’re dangerous and we’re just worried about you getting in harm's way,” you could see the way the glint in her eyes seemed to return after you confirmed that were in fact not dating Felix. The fake sincerity in her voice was piercing to your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to get rid of her and stop her from prying into your personal life. “Plus, what would you parents say if they see you hanging out with someone like him?” 

So that’s what this about, this was the entire underlying reason why, this is why she decided to pick a fight with you. Of course, everything was about power, it always is with someone like her and her family—the Moon family was always power-hungry gremlins. For many years your family has sort of allied itself with the Moons, not by choice, but just because of circumstances. You have known her your entire life, and up until this point you have always known her to be jealous of everything that you had. And now, it was no different, she always wanted what she couldn’t get her hands on, and everything in your life was currently on the menu.It was the typical story, she wanted to use him for what she did best, flirting with danger—like your parents, hers would practically disown her if they found out she was fooling around with someone with low status like him, but the thrill and the temptation was too great to pass up. It was all for the thrill, and some desire was too strong. 

Oh did you have some choice words for her, but it seemed like your voice failed you felt a warm hand envelop your wrist. Whipping around you were once again met with an eyeful of black clothing that obscured your vision. The heat radiating off of him was almost suffocating, and you struggled to catch your breath around him. With a final glare in the direction of the trio, he tugged your wrist and your body followed as he dragged you away from the trio of girls. The two of you rounded the corner to one of the Biology lecture halls, before you finally grasped control of yourself and shook off his hold from your body. 

You were your own independent person meaning that you could definitely handle yourself, and definitely didn’t need someone like him to save you. There was an unreadable expression written across his features, as you cradled your burning wrist  to your chest. Neither of you dared to speak a word, the awkward silence was deafening, both of your eyes were diverted towards the ground distracted by the concrete sidewalks. You needed to get out of there, as far away as you could manage and while you didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, you knew it was necessary unless you wanted to prolong your time spent in his presence. 

“Thanks for you know, everything that you did back there, but I was handling things on my own.”

You still couldn’t look him in the eyes, knowing that you would break if that ever happened. Instead, you opted to look straight ahead, finding some interesting looking trees that stood out behind him. His scoff startled you slightly, causing you to quickly look at his face before diverting your eyes once more. 

“Whatever you say, princess/prince. I’m sure you could have managed just fine on your own,” he rolled his eyes. That statement that ignited a fire within you, your face flushed and your palms growing sweaty as you balled them up into fists. 

“What do you mean by that?” you hissed, in an instant your eyes locked with his own—and your expression immediately softened. His demeanor also seemed to soften under your gaze, and he hesitantly approached your figure, till only a couple of inches stood between the two of you. But, you weren’t going to let him get away with it that easily. As you attempted to take a step back, his hand grabbed your wrist suddenly, stopping your body from moving away from him any further. “Hey, look, I’m serious, I’m not some damsel in distress that constantly needs saving. I can take care of myself and I don’t need you constantly babysitting me, like I’m some child because I—” 

With two steps the distance between the two of you closed, his face leaned and before you knew it, his lips were pressed against your own. He tasted like caramel with a bit of a smokey flavor, not quite like barbeque and not quite like cigarettes, perhaps something in between. His lips were slightly chapped against your own, but the kiss itself was gentle, his hands placed gingerly on your hips as he pulled you against his body. He was a fantastic kisser, by the way, every direction that his lips moved in and the way he was holding you made you practically putty in his hands as you melted into his touch. Soon, the need for oxygen was too great, the two of you breaking apart as the only sounds that could be heard were the pants from the both of you that stood out harshly against the quietness of the campus. 

“We, oh god, we shouldn’t have—” you paused, attempting to gather your thoughts, trying to quiet the thousands upon thousands scenarios and ideas that were running through your head at the moment. Your parents, god, if they ever found out about this you would be ruined. Everything that you have worked for over the years would be completely shattered, demolished and bulldozed by the boy that stood in front of you—and for some reason, when you looked into his warm brown eyes, you didn’t seem to care. You were never really a reckless person, but for him, you were willing to risk it all. At this point in time, what he meant to you was worth more than whatever punishment your parents were going to inflict on you once they found out. 

“You know I don’t care about what people think, and neither should you. Why is it any of their business what the two of us do with our lives? If I like you and you like me, then I don’t see the problem,” he pushed your body back a little bit, so he could look into your eyes. For once, there was no cockiness or arrogance in his voice, instead he looked at you passionately, with his hands holding yours and his thumb rubbing circles on the tops of your hands. There was so many unspoken words between the two of you, but just this once his touch and his presence was enough. 

And for once you could safely say that Lee Felix was right, in this moment it was quite honestly you and him against the world. 

seven. 

To say that things were weird between the two of you was definitely an understatement. Neither of you addressed what had happened a couple of nights ago, the kiss was almost a taboo subject and to mention it meant that you both had to address the change in your relationship with each other. Instead, it was easier to ignore everything that changed and instead pretend that everything was just fine between the two of you. In all honesty, you would be lying if you said that you never considered a relationship with him, and in reality, that is all you have been thinking about the last couple of days. You never thought that love could feel like this, every moment with him was as if you were floating, drifting endlessly on cloud nine with no intentions of stopping. Every stereotype and previous assumptions about him were completely thrown out the window. He was perhaps the kindest soul that you could ever meet, despite his rough exterior, and he treated you with the utmost kindness, his manners rivaling some of the more posh boys that you have dated in the past. He was a complete gentleman and never pushed you to do anything that you didn’t want to, respected his boundaries and of course, acted as the epitome of the perfect boyfriend. You knew that you should tread with caution, the honeymoon phase was still in full effect, but with him, you couldn’t help but dive straight in. With him you were loose and reckless, the complete opposite of everything that you were molded to be by your parents. 

And while you were unsure of where your relationship with him stands, you were first and foremost his tutor, you would be damned if you were the one who ultimately caused his grades to slip again. Which is why most of your dates the past few days have been focused on only studying, the two of you meeting up at cafes or the library in order to help him prepare for this upcoming final on Literature of the 20th Century. There was a slight tension between the two of you, understandable considering the circumstances, but you were adamant that there would be nothing to distract him from acing this exam, and this was evident in how you threatened him with everything under the sun if he even dared to try anything other than studying. 

Before both of you knew it the exam was quickly approaching, the last study date seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes, and you both found yourself walking the familiar path on the way to the lecture hall in time for the morning exam. As usual, Felix clutched the study guide in his hand as he walked, mumbling little facts about each work of literature that was present on the page. You couldn’t help but smile at his mannerisms, watching his face furrow as he was deep in thought made him appear almost cute, vastly different from his every day cool and cocky exterior. 

“So, what’s my prize this time for scoring well on the exam?” he asked you coolly, cocking one eyebrow in the air playfully, the study guide soon forgotten in his hands. 

“Bold of you to assume that there is a prize, I mean, studying hard and putting in the work and receiving the outcome you wanted sounds like enough of a reward to me,” you shrugged, giving him a wink. In response, he shot you a teasing glare shaking his head and rolling his eyes. 

“While that sounds very uh tempting I have another idea,” he paused slightly for dramatic effect before continuing, “if I get an A on this test, then I think you should promise me something.” Of course, he didn’t really go into details after that, citing that if he talked about it any longer than he will jinx himself and not only fluke this test, but he will also cheat himself out of this deal. 

Bidding you a quick farewell, he disappeared inside the lecture hall blowing you a kiss before vanishing behind the wooden doors. Even in a situation like this he seemed to find time to be flirty, ignoring the obvious tension and oddness between the two of you in favor of attempting to restore some sense of normalcy. He was different to say the least, and that’s probably what attracted you to him in the first place, and with a slight shake of your head, you turned away and walked towards your own classroom. 

And you couldn’t begin to hide the redness in your cheeks or the boisterous hammering of your heart beneath your ribcage, which confirmed what you had previously known already—that you were head-over-heels in love with this boy. 

As soon as Felix stepped foot outside of the lecture room, his eyes desperately scanned the campus grounds looking for your figure. He was ecstatic and couldn't wait to share the good news with you, but as his eyes moved around looking for any sign of you, he was disappointed to not see your figure in sight. This emotion was evident on his face, and it was hard for him to hide it, as he opted to shove his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket. He wanted to boast to you, to shove his high grade in your face and smugly demand his prize—an official date with you. No, he wouldn’t accept anymore of this “study date” bullshit, while he did get to spend time with you (which he did very much enjoy) he wanted something that wasn’t underneath the guise of school. He wanted something that was real and concrete between the two of you, and this was the perfect opportunity to voice his true intentions. 

Felix was no idiot, the kiss that you both shared was something that doesn’t normally happen between a tutor and a student, let alone between friends. At the moment he wasn’t really sure where your relationship stood, the two had walked the very thin line between friends and lovers, and after the kiss, a boundary was crossed and it’s too late to go back now. Pulling out his phone, he decided to send you a quick text just in case you were running late from class. 

very annoying (but cute) boy: hey, where are you?? 

very annoying (but cute) boy: i think i would like to redeem my prize right now, and in order for me to do that i need you to be here 

Even after ten minutes there was no response from you, while it wasn’t that odd for you to go a bit radio silent when you’re busy studying, but he thought it was a bit strange of you to forget something as important as this. That was it, you must have become preoccupied with something else, and you’ll end up getting back to him when you find the time. Shrugging his shoulders, he pocketed his phone before taking off to find the rest of his friends, his thoughts lingering on you the whole way there. 

It’s only a few hours later when an announcement is made across the campus, alerting the entire student body of your disappearance. Of course the word “kidnapping” isn’t used in order to not alarm the rest of the student body, but the meaning behind your disappearance was evident across the campus. The first thing that he did once the news was broken to him was punch a wall, sure, not the most effective thing to do but at the moment he was unable to contain himself and his emotions. He was angry, in fact he was more than angry, and he honestly didn’t know what to do with himself. How could this have happened, especially under his watch? You were his responsibility, he was supposed to be able to protect you from everything, especially things like this, but he has failed you. 

Currently he was both a mess inside and out, his hand coming in contact with the coffee table that was situated in the center of the room. His eyes were ablaze, a storm brewing within them, as he glared at the taller male in front of him. The rest of his friends gathered around the two males, watching the scene unfold in front of them. 

“What do you mean we can’t go and save her? We’ve done recon missions like this all time, we will in and out before anything really happens,” Felix slammed his fist down on the coffee table, shaking the furniture in an attempt to prove his point to the male in front of him. However, Chan was more mature than that and would not be easily swayed by irrational persuasions. 

“I know you care about them and under different circumstances I wouldn’t be opposing you, but we can’t risk anything right now. The media’s attention is already fixated on us, and causing any more publicity like this would draw us even more into the spotlight, and right now we don't need everything we do to be a spectacle for the public to criticize." 

It was logical, every single word that ushered past his mouth and Felix knew that. But, he couldn’t help the fire that spread across his entire body, tingling from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers, urging him to do something, anything, calling him to action. He couldn’t take this bureaucracy anymore, following the rules in order to appease the ever critical public and for what? The outcome was always the same in the end, the public always demanding (and never satisfied) for a change, a way to exterminate the vermin that lived in the streets, and they always drew the short-end of the stick. Forced to retreat back into the outskirts of the town, hiding as if they were the ones who committed the sins, while the real demons hide among the general population. 

The door slammed closed behind him, the sound echoing slightly in the empty streets of the campus. In wake of your disappearance, it seemed like the student body and the school was taking extra precautions by instilling a mandatory curfew and for once, it seems that the student body was actually complying. Felix scoffed, shoving his hands into his pocket, before turning and taking off in a random direction. He couldn’t think straight, his brain too busy being clouded over by the sheer frustration and anger that he felt. In this moment, he truly understood what it meant to be helpless, and he could earnestly say that it was the worst feeling in the world. The fire inside was itching for him to do something—to take action, but as much as he wanted to, he was completely helpless to the situation at hand. 

And for the first time in his life, Lee Felix felt utterly defeated.

eight. 

It has been three days since you have gone missing, and he could swear that he was losing his mind. There was nothing, no clues, no witnesses, nothing—as if you had simply disappeared without a trace. By now the campus had returned to a version of normalcy, the streets were no longer empty, the classrooms and dorms repopulated, and the campus seemed to buzz with life once again, which only seemed to enrage the male. He couldn’t understand how everyone could simply pick up and move on, turn a blind eye to the fact that it hasn’t even been a week since your disappearance and suddenly, it was perfectly acceptable for everything to return to normal? No. He wouldn’t stand for this, he couldn’t. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to idly sit by and wait for news to come to him, instead he needed to be proactive—be out there searching and not resting until he brought you back safely. 

But, here lies the problem. Felix was floating in the same boat as the detectives, officers and everyone else looking for you, with absolutely no leads on who took you and why. All he could do was rely on his gut instincts, and thus far in life, there wasn’t a time where his gut has ever steered him wrong. Everything about this was pointing to their rival gang Neo Culture Technology, or what they liked to call themselves, NCT. Sure, it was only a hunch that he had, but everything seemed to fall into place around this theory. Exhibit A, they had the means to do it. Saying that they were extremely well funded was an understatement, in more simpler terms, they were loaded. Anything they wanted, they could have just by waving a stack of bills and it was done. Exhibit B, they had the motive to do it. The rivalry between the two gangs was no joking matter, even though they both seemed dominant now, any action was a small enough spark to set the whole rivalry ablaze once again. And he would damned if this wasn’t the signalling flare. Exhibit C, his gut was telling him that this was the answer. Now, there have been many things that Lee Felix has been wrong about in his life, his gut has always steered him in the right direction—and right now, it was practically screaming at him to follow this lead. 

However, there was a slight problem and that came in the form of someone named Bang Chan. Felix was explicitly told not to move a muscle, to not do anything that would draw attention to the gang, and rescuing you was bound to blow everything that they have worked so hard for—obliterated due to his selfish desire. But, he couldn’t help himself. What kind of person would he be if he had the chance to possibly save you and instead decided that the reputation of Stray Kids was more valuable. No, if he did that he would embody exactly what society deemed him: a monster. 

That’s how he found himself here, somewhere past two in the morning outside one of the many abandoned warehouses in the inner city. It was almost idiotic for him to be here, alone, with no backup and he was certainly a madman to try to even attempt to pull something off like this. The darkness provided a decent cover and gave him the slight element of surprise, but with no windows, it was impossible to actually see if he was walking into a trap. All he was running on was his gut instinct, and while it has never failed him before, there was always a first time for everything. 

Bracing himself, he kicked the doors open putting up his fists and readying his stance, prepared for a fight. But, it never came, his posture immediately relaxing as soon as he looked towards the center of the vast room. There you were, bound to a chair with rope and gagged, but otherwise unharmed staring at him with wide eyes. Navigating around the miscellaneous shipping containers and wooden boxes that plagued the room, he ran to you, undoing your gag and began working on the ropes that held your body to the chair. 

“I thought you would never find me,” you choked out, your voice hoarse and scratchy. The relief that flooded your body once you saw him almost had tears pooling in your eyes. Suddenly the frigid air of the warehouse didn’t feel that cold anymore, and it was as if all your prayers had finally been answered. Within the next minute, he had freed you from your binds, taking off his leather jacket and draping the article of clothing over your shoulders in an attempt to keep you warm, while wrapping one arm around you and pulling you into his body. Despite all the warmth that he was providing, you were still freezing, and you could barely feel your legs moving as he attempted to guide you out of the warehouse. 

You were vaguely aware of him talking, his lips were moving yet, at least to you, it seemed like there was no sound coming out. The blank expression on your features was enough to indicate this fact to him, as he instead tried to navigate you faster through the warehouse. It was obvious that he was worried, it was written all over his face—the way his eyebrows were furrowed, his arm wrapped just a bit too tightly around your shoulders, and the way his other hand kept hovering over his pocket as if he was going to pull a weapon out any minute now. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen your captures in a while, and that probably was not a good thing. It had slipped your mind, but as Felix led you out of the warehouse it seemed to be the only thing on the forefront of your mind. 

The feeling of anxiety seemed to crawl up your throat, the thought of being captured again causing a new wave of panic to wash over you. Never have you experienced a situation as horrible as these past few days, and you were not willing to relive this horrifying experience again. With these overwhelming new emotions everything seemed to be too much for you, added onto the sound of distant sounds of sirens and bright spotlights that seemed to dance in front of your field of vision, your body couldn’t hold on any longer as you suddenly collapsed—becoming limp in the arms of your savior. 

It took a second for Felix to adjust your newfound weight in his arms, grunting slightly as he picked you up and began carrying you through the open doors of the warehouse and was met with a swarm of police cars and officers with their guns drawn directly at him. 

Fuck, what did he manage to get himself into?

nine. 

Felix knew that he wasn’t supposed to be here, but then again, when has he ever followed directions? Hospitals were never his favorite place, and in all honesty, he tended to avoid them when he could, the sterile and cleanliness smell from them making him feel as if he was choking on a gallon of hand sanitizer. But, at the moment, he was here of his own free will—lurking around the corridors of the building for something specific. It was obvious that he stuck out like a sore thumb, his dark clothing standing out against the cleanliness white background, but for some reason no one seemed to pay him any attention. Instead, every nurse, doctor, and patient were too preoccupied with their own tasks, far too busy to pay him any mind. 

Rounding the corner with his hands tucked deep into his pockets, his eyes scanned the halls of the hospital before landing on a specific room, PATIENT ROOM 325. He glanced to the left, then to the right, and after making sure that no one was around, he pulled the handle of the door and opened it just enough to slip into the room. 

It was dark, and the only light came from the open windows in front of him, casting a soft glow. The full moon hung brightly in the sky and the stars were on full display tonight, and it would have been a beautiful sight if he wasn’t focused on something else. A couple of feet away from the window was a stereotypical hospital bed, or what he could assume was a hospital bed, with the curtains drawn around it. There was no other noise in the room besides the faint hum of a few machines by the bedside and the occasional sound of crickets from outside, which caused him to question if there was perhaps anybody in the room. 

Taking another step forward, he reached forward and grabbed one side of the curtain, prepared to see who (if anybody) was lying in the bed. However, a voice stopped him dead in his tracks. 

“You know we’re supposed to stay away from each other.” The voice was hoarse, but still recognizable, and his heart clenched at the sound. He stepped forward, grasping at the curtain in front of him, his knuckles turning white from how firmly he was gripping the material. There was an internal war raging inside of him, trying to decide if he could even bear to see you in your current state. However, he soon decided against his current judgement and before he could reason against himself, he yanked the curtains aside to reveal the sight of you before him. 

In all honesty, you could have fared worse from the whole ordeal, but you managed to only make it out with slight dehydration and some minor cuts and bruising. Nevertheless, Felix’s breath hitched at the sight of you as he slowly approached the side of your bed. Even with your hair a mess, the prominent bags underneath your eyes, and a small but tired smile, he couldn’t help but think that you were the most beautiful person that he has ever laid eyes on. 

“You’re doing it again,” you purse your lips, your eyes narrowing as you drink in his figure in the moonlight. 

“Doing what?” 

“Looking at me like I hung both the moon and the stars in the sky.” 

He was thankful for the dimness of the room to conceal the flush of his cheeks. Approaching your bedside, he sat at the very edge of the bed, almost afraid to get any closer, as if one slight movement would break you. The both of you soon fell into a comfortable silence, but there was a slight amount of awkward tension that hung in the air. You wanted to tell him so many things, spend the rest of your lifetime apologizing for dragging him into this mess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say a word—everything you want to say sitting heavily on your tongue. Instead, you gingerly moved your hand to brush over his own and let it rest on top of his own as he interlocked your fingers together. There it was, a silent conversation exchanged between the two of you, and when you gave his hand a long squeeze, he gave you a small squeeze back. 

There were sounds coming from outside of your room, the sound of low chatter followed by the brisk footsteps was enough for Felix to recoil his hand abruptly and to stand suddenly. It was the cold wave of reality raining down on the both of you, that he shouldn’t be here and you shouldn’t be seeing someone like him. 

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right, all of this wasn’t your fault,” you muttered, choking back tears. You reached up to grab his hand once again, feeling his body slightly tense up at your touch. This was a cruel world and the two of you were simply living proof of that statement, unable to change your fate and the bad luck that came with it. Ultimately, the entire plot was an elaborate plan by Stray Kids’ rival gang in order to draw attention to them at that prestigious school and keep the gang in the limelight to distract from the nefarious activities executed by NCT. And for the most part, while it seemed like everything turned out alright in the end, there were consequences that needed to be paid. 

After spending some long hours in the police station, Felix was finally released after being found innocent of any involvement in your attack. Not only  did he earn a complete berating from Chan, but he was also banned from seeing you, and if he was caught well, the wrath of Chan was going to come raining down on him once more. But for you he was willing to risk it, you were different from every other risk that he has ever taken in his life, and if he was being completely honest, you were the best one. And he would like to think that he could one day reap the rewards. 

You on the other hand, were rushed to the hospital where you were met with your parents on the phone, demanding lawyers and the police enforcement catch whoever did this to their child. Immediately they blamed Felix, and would not listen to a single word you said defending him. Their minds were already made up, and in their minds he had tainted you—changed you from their perfect and lovely child, into someone just like them. 

“You can’t change my mind, sweetheart, my decision is final,” your mother declares, shuffling around the hospital room, rearranging your items that were haphazardly thrown around the room. Your dad stood in the corner with his arms folded across his chest, not uttering a word against your mother’s declaration. 

“You want me to move halfway across the world after I’ve gotten into the most prestigious university here, and you’re telling me not to be upset?” you throw up your hands in exasperation, sitting up in the bed. 

Your sudden outburst caused your mother to stop in her tracks, before taking three steps closer towards your bed, until she was only a few feet away. Her eyebrows were scrunched together, the look in her eyes was enough to send chills down your spine, and the snarl sitting on her lips let you know that you were about to be in a deep pile of shit. 

“[Y/N], I’m going to tell you once more and after that I don’t want to hear any more complaints from you anymore, understand? We are all moving to America and away from this wretched place and that’s final,” she spat at you, before turning away and resumed tidying the room, “you need a fresh start away from this tainted place, I mean, look at what you’ve become—infected by those vermin, and look what they turned you into! A fresh start will be good for all of us, and maybe finally getting away from those despicable people can you finally return to how you were.”

Your mother was never a woman who actively changed her mind once it was set on something, and her latest decision was no different. Everything was practically being finalized as you and Felix both, the entire house being condensed into cardboard boxes then placed on a plane to go to America, and you were going to join them in a few days. 

“You should probably get back soon,” your voice was barely above a whisper and if it was any quieter the strawberry blond would have missed everything that you had uttered. HIs jaw visibly clenched at your words, his face turned away from you so you couldn’t see the internal turmoil that was written across his features—eyebrows furrowed, a deep frown sitting on his lips and a storm brewing within his brown eyes. “I don’t want to get you into more trouble than I already have.” 

“And what if I don’t want to go?” 

He turned around to face you, his usually warm brown eyes now ablaze, and you could only describe the expression on his face as the most passionate that you have ever seen him. Reaching out for your hand, he grasped it, intertwining his fingers with your own and gripping onto you as if his life depended on it. 

“Please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” you turned your head away from him, feeling tears fighting to spill over. He didn’t need to see you like this and it would only make it harder to say goodbye. With one blink, the tears start falling, cascading down your cheeks before dribbling down onto the sterile hospital sheets below. 

Felix couldn’t help but feel his heart break at the sight, and instead opted to gingerly pull you into his arms. Your head rested against his chest, your tears soaking his shirt and sobs wracking your body as he patted your back soothingly. He wasn’t sure how long the two of you stayed there like it, but it was only until your sobs had turned into quiet sniffles and your tears had almost ceased. 

“I don’t know what the future will hold for the both of us, but I promise you, I will find you. I don’t care how long it will take, but someday I will make my way back to you,” his voice was soft, the softest that you have ever heard from him, but instead of feeling the usual comfort from his words, you couldn’t help but feel a cold sense of dread wash over you. 

“You shouldn’t make promises that you can’t keep,” you muttered. His body stiffened at your words, and it was as if the confusion was radiating off of him, and it was only when you pulled your body away could you really see his face. 

ten.

Bidding goodbye to some of your classmates, you readjusted your backpack before walking out of the cafe and into the busy street. America was certainly nothing like you could have ever imagined, in more ways than one it was similar to the city that you grew up, but completely different at the same time. In the six months that you have been here, you have adjusted to the best of your ability. Everything from the culture to the language, at first completely baffled you, but as you listened to the locals aimlessly chat amongst themselves as you walked down the sidewalk, you couldn’t help but feel as if you fit right in. 

The sun was high in the sky, the warm rays shining down on you, as you carefully slipped your sunglasses over your eyes and continued walking. In the distance, you faintly heard the sound of a motorcycle roaring in the distance. The revving of the engine continues to get louder, until you one zoom past you and continue on towards the highway. Not that it mattered, but you couldn’t make out the driver behind the tinted helmet, and for some reason that caused the ache in your heart to return. 

You paused for a second, just as the pedestrian signal turned green, allowing you to cross the street. Around you people moved forward, carrying on with their conversations, but you were frozen on one side of the street. And suddenly you were back in there all over again, the familiar feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist, the melodic sound of his laughter ringing in your ears, and the stupidly cute smile that always seemed to grace his lips whenever you were around. Every memory about him seemed to crash over you, until you were drowning in a sea of moments where you could never return. 

Your heart clenched at the thought, and briefly you allowed yourself to wonder about him. Over the months that you have spent here, you have repressed every thought about him. In the beginning everything reminded you of him, he was everywhere, and nowhere at the same time. However, as time went on, it became easier. You made new friends, went to new places, and slowly but surely you started to accept that this was the way that things were—and you were coming to terms with your newfound reality. But sometimes you days like these happen, and you’re suddenly crippled with the thought of him. 

However, you are instead learning how to swim, and managing to stay afloat in the ocean of memories. You were learning to breathe without him by your side. You exhaled, releasing a shaky breath, before refocusing on the crosswalk in front of you. Looking both ways and making sure that the light was green, you continued walking—one foot in front of the other. 

You were grateful that he walked into your life. He taught you lessons that you could have never learned on your own, and gave you memories that you would never trade for the world. In the end, while it was never meant to be, you would never forget the taste of the fruit that you were never meant to have—the irresistible sweetness of a boy named Lee Felix.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #districtninewriters #sk imagines #sk scenarios #skz #stray kids #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix imagines #my writing

[weelittleweasley]

Say It | Draco x Reader

Prompt as requested by anon: You and Draco both have liked each other since year four, but neither of you want to admit to the other how you feel. So you decide a friendly game of hard to get will make Draco confess his feelings. 

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I’ve been trying to CRANK out these imagines for you guys and getting your requests out there. I am going to close requests for the rest of the week, so I can really deliver the content for you guys and do another multipart imagine for the weekend hehehehe...

A pair of ice blue eyes gazed at you from across the table as its owners smiled softly to himself at the sight of you, writing away in your notebook, taking diligent notes in preparation for exams. He watched as you pushed your hair away from your face, getting annoying and giving in to tying it back into a low ponytail. You bit down on your lower lip, concentration on the material sat in front of you. You were in the zone. You finally acknowledged that someone was indeed staring at you and you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. A small smile danced on your lips as you spoke, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer, Malfoy.”

Draco let out a light chuckle. “I can’t enjoy the view?” he asked you.

You placed your quill down to take a look at the boy sat in front of you. “Haven’t you heard?” you sarcastically ask. “Staring at people without them knowing is creepy.”

“You didn’t know I was staring at you?” Draco teases which makes you blush. He always knew how to come back at you.

The two of you liked each other and it was clear as day. Everyone around you knew it. All of your friends, all of the students in your year, even your professors picked up on it. But the two of you were so stubborn that neither of you wanted to admit your feelings to the other in fear that they would be admitting defeat. This has been going on since year four and now you two were in year six, still not together. You hadn’t even kissed. Nothing. 

Shaking your head, you return to your work, a smile still plastered on Draco’s face as you continued your studies. There were lots of things that Draco liked about you. Obviously, you were beautiful. But it was more than that. He liked how strong willed you like himself. You were driven and ambitious. You weren’t afraid to stand up for yourself and others, putting people in their place with just a glare. Draco adored how strong you were on the outside, but a complete mush on the inside when it came to your family and friends. There was so much to like that it made Draco unable to think straight at times. 

Draco so desperately wanted to make you his. He wanted to tell you everything about how he has felt about for the past two years. But even though he knew how much you liked him, he still feared rejection. That you would think he wasn’t worthy of someone like you. That you would prefer someone who’s family wasn’t so snooty or prestigious. These thoughts often circulated throughout his head and could drive him close to insanity, wondering what you would do if he asked you to be his.

“Haven’t you had enough studying for today?” he whines as you continue to keep your head buried in your work. You didn’t take exams lightly. Although you liked having fun as much as the next person, your academia always came first. It was your responsibility to do well in school and be better than the next student. You didn’t feel obligated to do it for anyone; you were a good student for yourself. You wanted to prove to yourself that you were just as capable of being brilliant like other students similar to Hermione Granger. “You could use a distraction,” Draco teases.

You roll your eyes, “Are you suggesting that I may be more interested in what you have to offer?” Draco raises his hands in defense. You chuckle, closing your book, surrendering to the blonde Slytherin in front of you. “Well, let me hear your sales pitch, Malfoy.”

Draco sits up in his chair, eye staring into yours. Merlin, you had beautiful eyes. It’s like he saw the galaxy in your eyes. Such a beautiful hue, blinking with joy, curiosity, and cleverness. “I don’t know what to do to sell you, (Y/L/N),” Draco confessed. Which was true. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. What else could he possible do to prove that he liked you and wanted to make you his?

Sucking on your teeth, you feign disappointment. “Not the words I was looking for. What a pity,” you tease as he grins. “Just means I’ll have to postpone buying your product longer than anticipated.”

Before Draco can even ask what that means, you had grabbed your things and left the library with a saucy smirk on your lips. “Merlin, she’ll be the death of me,” he breathes out. Draco sits there, thinking of what he has to do to prove himself to you.

-----

You return to your room, peeling your cardigan off of your body as your roommate, Daphne, sits on her bed. She catches the goofy grin on your face as you place your things away, tucking them into their respective drawers. “Smiling about Malfoy?” she laughs as you ignore her. Daphne knew first hand how much you liked Draco. Ever since year four, you would ramble on and on about him and how much you liked the boy. She would roll her eyes and tell you that you should make a move as your eyes would widen in fear and earn her a ‘are you mental?’ in response. “(Y/N), you like the bloke so much and you know how he feels about you. How many hoops are you going to make him jump through?” she sits up as you plop yourself next to her. 

“It’ll come to an end soon,” you confess. “I’ve planted the seed. Now, we wait,” you tell her as she furrows her brows, confused. “Meaning, I told him he needs to sell me on reasons I should want to be his girlfriend. I’ll give him a hard time about it, but I’ll give in.”

Daphne just laughs wildly at you, now your turn to be confused. “Oh, silly little (Y/N). Do you know what you just got yourself into?” she asks, placing a hand on your leg, trying to reassure you about the decision you’ve made. “You challenged Draco Malfoy to a game he will crush you in. I remember when Draco had a two week crush on Tracey Davis and he sent her owls that carried roses to her room every morning and night. And that crush lasted two weeks! Yours has been two years in the making.”

Maybe Daphne was right, this was a mistake. But you kind of wanted to see just how far the boy would go to show you how much he wanted you. That night you went to sleep with excitement and nervousness about what Draco would have in store for you tomorrow.

The morning came quickly as you awoke, still groggy. You slide on your slippers when there is a knock at the door. Yawning, you open the door and on the floor near the door is about six dozen red roses and a small card on the top of the pile of flowers. You open the white card and in Draco’s handwriting reads: Challenge Accepted. Xo, Malfoy

You can’t help but smile. 

“You’re bloody joking,” Daphne says from behind you as you shrug, picking up a flower, sniffing its pleasant scent. “I am not picking that up. Malfoy has a crush on you, not me.” 

After getting ready in uniform and ready for the day, you make your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. When you sit down with Daphne, Draco is immediately sat to your left. You sip on your pumpkin juice as Draco starts, “Receive anything interesting at your doorstep this morning?”

Hiding your smile, you turn to him and furrow your eyebrows. “Pardon?”

Draco rolls his eyes and scoots closer to you. “Did you get my gift?” he asks.

You scoot away from him, teasingly. “No, actually. There was absolutely nothing in front of my doorstep today. A big pile of nothing,” you tell him as Daphne almost spits out her juice. 

Draco recognizes what you are doing as just shakes his head. He then leans in closer and whispers, “This is nowhere near over,” in your ear. The motion brings goosebumps to your skin before he leaves just as quickly as he came.

Sitting there for a moment in silence, you let your heart rate calm down before sipping on your pumpkin juice again and taking a bit of your toast. “I told you this was a war you didn’t want to get involved in,” Daphne sing songs as you kick her underneath the table. “Ow! What’s that for now? Just because you two are stubborn doesn’t mean you have to take it out on my shins!”

-----

And oh Draco wasn’t lying when he said it wasn’t the end. If flowers weren’t enough, he sent you boxes of chocolate, a new pair of shoes, a dress he knew you liked from the shoppes at Hogsmeade, and he even had the audacity to get the Frog choir to serenade you at dinner one night. It was getting absurd at this point. But with every gift Draco gave you, you played it off like it was nothing. Although Draco didn’t have to do all of this, you just wanted to push his buttons.

Draco on the other hand was running out of ideas quickly. He has thought of everything under the sun that was creative or show stopping to get you to be his. What was next? Did you want him to buy you Hogwarts castle? He could probably do it if he tried hard enough...

He was beside himself. Tonight, he laid on his bed, staring at his ceiling, just wondering what you wanted out of him. He thought of you in his mind’s eyes and all of his worries seemed to melt away. The thought of you laughing and smiling made his chest warm and head fuzzy. He dreamt of you snuggled up to him on his bed, him kissing the top of your head, drawing small circles into your hip bones. He wanted you to be his so desperately. It was a deep need. He knew that if you asked him, he would go to the ends of the world for you and come back with whatever you wanted. Draco didn’t want to admit it, but deep down he knew he was in love. No other feeling was this strong. 

You sat on your bed, looking at the gifts that Draco had gifted you over the course of the past week. Every single one more beautiful than the previous one. But none of this wanted to make you run into his arms and say yes. That just seemed selfish. Although you wanted to do this to tease Draco and drive him a mid mad, all you really wanted was to hear Draco say the words, “I want you.” That was it. Simple as that. 

But of course, it was in Draco’s nature to overcomplicate things and get showing affection confused with material items. You couldn’t blame him though. That’s how he was raised by his parents. They showed their love for him through gifts and material wealth. But in turn this made Draco believe that that was the only was of showing affection rather than using his words or other actions. 

Sighing, you place his gifts elsewhere, out of sight as you tuck into bed for the night. “Nothing?” Daphne asks as you shake your head. “He’s going to say it. Mark my words, he’ll do it, (Y/N),” she says as you can only hope he will. “He’ll come around.”

-----

The next day rolled around and you weren’t as well rested as you had hoped. You had stayed up tossing and turning, wondering if Draco was thinking of you the way you were thinking of him. You begrudgingly get dressed and imagine what gift Draco has for you today. You’d be surprised if he could top the Frog choir. That would be an achievement. 

But there was no gift today. No flowers, no chocolate, no clothes, no Frog choir, nothing. You waited for something to catch you off guard, but your day was normal. Which kind of worried you. Did he plan something for the evening? But at dinner, there was nothing. You ate your meal with your friends at one of the Slytherin tables, waiting for Draco’s arrival, but nothing. In fact, you didn’t see Draco at all that day. 

You started to get a little concerned. Did something happen to him? Is he sick? Did he get hurt? Is he looking for you? Thoughts flood through your head, but you take your mind off things by engaging in conversation with the people around you.

Finally, you return back to your dormitory for the night, surprised that nothing happened today. Completely uneventful. It was a bummer; you looked forward to teasing Draco again today. 

You slipped into your nightclothes and took your hair down from its ponytail, shaking it out along with the worries and anxieties of the day. As you pull back your sheets, you hear a knock at the door. You had assumed it was Daphne, considering she wasn’t back in the room yet and she had forgotten her keys yet again. “Daph, you have to remember your keys. I won’t always be home,” you look up and don’t see Daphne, but instead Draco. “Oh. Hi.”

Draco looks exhausted. Like he hasn’t gotten sleep at all. He has bags under his eyes and his face looks a little paler than normal. He stands before you in his clothes from yesterday. Your concern for his well being rises. But before you can say anything further, he talks. “I don’t know what else to do to prove that I like you, (Y/N). I’ve done it all, but I’m going to do one last thing and if you still don’t want me after this, then I will stop by all means,” he says as you just watch him. “I thought about what I wanted to say to you all day and all night, but all I can say is this. I am my happiest when I am around you. You never fail to make me laugh. You make my head fuzzy and my chest warm and you make me want to be a better person which is just absurd,” he confesses making you giggle. “I like you, (Y/N). I want you to be mine. Please. Be mine.”

And with that, you waste no time in kissing the poor bloke in front of you. The moment your lips touch, his arms are wrapped around you. Your hands cup his face, pulling him close. The kiss is full of all of the longing and wanting you both had been doing for the past two years. It’s sweet and kind and passionate and hungry all at the same, making your head reel and your stomach do flips. It felt otherworldly. 

As you pull away, the both of you breathless, you say, “That’s all you had to do. You just had to say it.”

Draco’s face drops. “You’re bloody joking,” he huffs. “I spent so much money on all of those gifts and you just wanted me to say some sappy words? That’s the dumbest things I’ve ever heard!” he exclaims as you laugh, kissing him again, sweetly. “I guess it was worth it,” he shrugs. 

That night, you both fall asleep in your bed, Draco cuddling you from behind as you both have the best night sleep of your life. As you sleep, Daphne comes it and notices you two curled up together. “Finally,” she exhales with a smile.

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco x reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Two

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 2.2k

After a moment of gathering your thoughts, you open your eyes to see other students begin to filter into the large auditorium. The little wooden desks that flip out from below the seats force people to squeeze past each other and give awkward sorries. Coming from calc, you thankfully don’t have to do the awkward shuffle as you came straight from a nearby building. While watching the students trickle in, you notice that many hold coffee in their hands and you suddenly are incredibly jealous… that guy from your last class wasn’t wrong in his assumption of your night owl status.

You sigh, and pull out your laptop to pull up the syllabus for the class. You were slightly nervous for this class, as it was completely out of your comfort zone. You hadn’t yet settled on a major, so you were knocking out some general classes while you were a freshman. And now, you were sitting in an Intro to Composition class to fulfill your creative work requirement. You really didn’t have experience with music in any formal sense, but you always loved to listen to music as you did basically anything. You found that music helped make the more unpleasurable bits of life more bearable. And the good bits, well, they always seem to have a good beat behind them too.

While you begin to look at some of the upcoming projects and their due dates, you feel the seat below you shift as someone occupies the seat next to you. When you glance up, you first see that since you pulled your laptop out, the lecture hall had quickly filled up. Your eyes dart over to your new seat buddy, and you can’t help but feel your eyes widen a bit. It was a boy with a slight build, but definitely a powerful aura. From your view, the sharpness of his jawline coupled with his soft looking cheeks was enough to inspire Michelangelo himself, you thought. While he was bent over slightly pulling out his desk, you shifted your eyes to look at his. He had soft eyes, and you could just barely tell he added a bit of a peach shadow and mascara to his look. Framing his face was inky black hair that was gelled to perfectly hang just to the edges of his dark brows.

Not wanting to get caught staring, you drag your eyes away from him and back to your laptop. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and willed it to recede --- you’ve had enough of embarrassing yourself today, you thought. Why oh why God, did you send freaking male models to your university, and not only that, but make them attend the same classes as you!

You quickly snap out of your thoughts as you hear a voice come from close to your right side. Eyes going from your laptop to the speaker, you realize it’s the boy next to you that spoke.

“Hey, just so you know I think your bag is caught on the chair, and looks like it’ll spill…”

His voice is more light and melodic than you anticipated from his angular features, but you don’t really fully process the thought before you realize that yes, your bag is precariously hanging from the edge of the chair between you, and it looks like your notebook and pens are about to end up scattered across the lecture hall. You gasp and grab your bag before it dumps, and lift the strap to untangle it.

“Oh my God, thank you so much, I’m sorry!” Your words rush out of your mouth as you zip the bag to prevent further disaster. How embarrassing, you groan to yourself internally.

He lets out a tinkling giggle, “No worries, happens to the best of us.” Said with a smile, he makes you feel better about the awkward situation almost immediately.

You smile back at him, “I suppose that’s true”. His grin widens a bit at your reply, and you notice his eyes squinch up to the point where they seem to disappear a bit, which you have to admit is incredibly endearing.

“My name’s Jimin!”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you!” Your smile gets larger at his introduction, it’s nice to be making a friend in a class that you already feel out of your depth in, and not to mention one that is as kind and not at all bad to look at.

“You too! So, what year are you? I’m a second year.” His smile never left his face.

“Oh, I’m only a first year actually!” You hated having to tell people you were a new student, honestly, but you kept your smile hoping he wouldn’t tease you too hard for it.

“Aw, you’re just a baby! Don’t worry, sunbae will take care of you!” His smile definitely had a cheshire quality to it now.

“Is that a promise sunbaenim?” You smirked back at him. While your words were formal, you were quick to pick up his flirty nature and turn it around on him. You saw his eyebrow lift in amusement at the subtle double entendre, and just as he was about to respond, a much louder voice cut him off from the front of the hall.

“Good morning everyone. Welcome to Intro to Composition. I am your professor, Doctor Choi. To my side here is this class’s learning assistant, Yoongi.” At this he swings his arm around to gesture to a boy giving a flat smile and nodding his head in greeting, his hands in his front pockets in a kind of forced relaxed stance.

“He is a fourth year student and is here to answer any questions you may have about the class material, as this is a rather large class.” The professor continues on, but you only give it partial attention, half because of already reading the syllabus, and half because you were getting a good look at the LA he introduced.

Yoongi was standing towards the wall of the auditorium, seemingly not wanting to be the center of attention. He wouldn’t have pulled your attention so much if it wasn’t for his gorgeous feline-like features that gave him an elegance, despite his slightly awkward demeanor. The glasses perched on his nose and the dark bangs swooped gently over his forehead gave beautiful contrast to his pale skin and pink lips. The silver hoops in his ears that reflected the overhead fluorescents gave him more of an edgy vibe, and it seemed to suit him well.

As it seems, Jimin thought so too. You turned to glance at your new friend to see him eyeing the LA you yourself was just examining. You watched him pull in one of his plush lips to pull it lightly with his top teeth. The quick action made you lift your brow in amusement. The introverted LA appeared to have a fan club in you and Jimin. After a quick glance around the room, you saw most of everyone beginning to type notes or watch your professor with way more attention than you or Jimin were giving him.

At this, you quickly refocused on the lecturer. Lord knows you need to pay attention to do well in this class with the zero experience you had with the material.

----

75 minutes later, the distinct sound of students shuffling as they put away their things and exit the room rings out. You and Jimin follow suit.

“What do you think of the first project that he introduced today? I’m a little nervous to be honest.” You look up from your bent over position to see Jimin’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as he expresses his concern.

“Yeah, me too. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with this stuff so it’ll definitely be a learning process.” Slipping into a conversation about the class was completely natural to you two. It seemed you two clicked as friends right off the bat.

“Tell me about it. I���m a freaking dance major, not a music major!” He let out a grown and tipped his head back as you both walked together out of the lecture hall.

“My advisor recommended this course to me because she said that some dance majors find it useful to learn about music construction, because it can help them be better at moving to the music. And because I tend to focus on contemporary, it makes sense. I’m just worried about not doing well in the class itself.” As he spoke, his face slipped into a cute pout.

His pout made you giggle, which you tried holding back behind your hand but he heard you before you were able to.

“What is so funny? Is my life struggle really that comedic to you hoobae?” He couldn’t hide the smile on his face, knowing how dramatic he was being. The slight giggle in his tone gave him away too.

“Of course not, I would never belittle your struggles, sunbae. You must have it so hard. Dancing requires an immense amount of brainpower, I don’t know how you are able to walk around with how big your brain is!” You widen your eyes for dramatic flair as you fight your lips from quirking up.

He stops dead in his tracts, and turns to you with his eyes nearly bulging out of his head at your sarcastic reply.

“Ya! Kids these days show no respect for their elders!” He bumps his hip into yours after catching up to you, “I’ll have you know I was class president for nine years in school! And valedictorian! And this is how I get treated!”

You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat and turn to him. “Were you really, sunbae? That’s amazing!” His easy-going attitude definitely didn’t leave you with the impression that he was that dedicated to his studies.

Now slightly sheepish, he shrugs. “Yeah, it’s true. I was a model student back then.”

Looking forward, he gives a bit of a bitter smile to himself. “You are wondering why I became a dance major, I imagine.”

Sensing the slight sensitivity to the topic, you shake your head as you answer, “Well, who am I to judge who does what major when I can’t even decide on one for myself?” You give him a shy smile.

By this point, you were both strolling down the brick path connecting the buildings of campus together, the bite of winter still remaining in the wind that blows your hair off your face on the otherwise sunny day.

He turns to look at you, with a slightly more evaluative gaze. You only hold eye contact for a second before moving your eyes forward again, trying to avoid blushing under his attention.

“You have time. Don’t force yourself into a path that others make for you.” His face was contemplative, and it seemed like he might have been speaking from personal experience.

“That’s good advice sunbae. Maybe your brain really is super big.” Your attempt to make him smile again works, and he lightly pushes your shoulder.

“Brat!” You can’t help but to let out a loud giggle, to which he lets out his own.

Seeing the street you needed to turn on for your next task of the day, you go to say goodbye to Jimin. “Well, this brat has to go buy groceries, so she’ll see you later.” You go to turn away, but before you can, he grabs your hand.

“You’re just going to leave your new friend without giving him a way to contact you? What if he has some pressing composition questions, huh? What is he to do then?” The teasing tone makes you smile.

“Well, if I remember correctly the LA you were checking out earlier is at your disposal sunbae.” He sputters for a couple seconds, pink coming to his cheeks making your smile widen, taking pleasure in catching him off guard.

“Okay, but you can’t tell me he isn’t yummy y/n!”

At this, you let out a cackle and bend over from the force of your laugh. You didn’t expect his answer, but you did have to agree with him. That LA, Yoongi his name is you think, definitely is yummy. He is gorgeous in an understated way.

After you finish laughing, you relent. “Okay, I’ll give you that. I’ll spare you the embarrassment of asking the yummy LA your dumb questions. Hand me your phone”.

He pulls his phone out of his canvas tote, holding his laptop and what looks like a textbook. You quickly type in your contact information, and hand it back to him.

“I appreciate your pity on my poor soul, y/n.”

“It’s more pity on Yoongi’s soul, actually.” You have to raise your voice as you are already walking away as you reply, your head turned over your shoulder. Your smile is met with a shake of his head and a tongue sticking out in your direction.

You laugh as you continue on towards the grocery store, happy that you were able to make such a good friend on just the first day of classes. Who knows what the rest of the semester has in store for you, if this is just day one, you think to yourself. Only time will tell.

#BTS #ot7 #ot7 x reader #poly ot7 #fanfic

[themusicplayedherlife]

to love is the greatest gift

2. the dinner

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarin x reader | past!obi wan kenobi x satine kryze) characters: f!reader, anakin amidala-skywalker, padmé amidala-skywalker, mentiones of din djarin, obi wan kenobi, others word count: 3.6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, death, longing, some arguing, slow burn summary: au! It has never been the right timing for you and Obi Wan, but maybe this time will be different. a/n: thank you so much for all the love in the previous chapter! i was so overwhelmed that i was a little nervous posting this part ;w; i really hope you guys enjoy this story! and do let me know what you think of the current formatting. is the switch from past to present jarring? or is it okay?

prev || all || next

Then.

The heat that Summer brought to Coruscant was different than Tatooine’s, less harsh and dry, and more of a kiss of warmth on your skin. Mother did say that Tatooine was always more temperamental, quick to heat up; while Coruscant could be a little tepid sometimes, but always a lot of fun. 

That was probably the only nice thing about Coruscant. Everything else about the city—like their streets—were too confusing.

Following the directions on your phone, you pulled the straps of your backpack tighter with your unoccupied hand, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to read the map on your phone. Was this truly the place you were meant to meet your guide? 

You looked up at the quaint house in front of you, quite a ways away from downtown and more in the suburbs. It looked like a cottage, like the ones in home magazines your mother liked collecting or the ones in Naboo or Stewjon. Could a high schooler, even one able to attend a prestigious private school, be able to afford such a home?

Did the headmistress confuse the address? Seemed possible. The woman seemed to be much more interested in the absolutes of rules and manners than actually helping you find your guide. Maybe you should have accepted your mother’s offer to accompany you. Or maybe convinced your parents to let you come with Anakin, you were sure Shmi wouldn't have minded.

You stood on your tiptoes, trying to take a peak over the white fence covered in a fuchsia flower—bougainvillea, if you remembered correctly. When that didn’t work, you stuffed your phone into your pocket and with hands holding onto your backpack straps to not jostle your belongings around too much, you began to jump.

There was a sound, like the sound of metal clinking and wood screeching, and the gate opened to a boy? man? (too young to own a house and maybe a few years older than you). He stepped out, blue eyes stopping on your curious form and greeting you with an amused, “Hello, there.”

You knew he had seen you jumping, there was no way he wouldn’t be looking at you the way he was if he hadn’t—embarrassing.

“Hello,” you greeted him back, timid and quickly setting your feet flat on the ground.

“May I help you?” he asked you, his Coruscanti accent thicker than the ones that greeted you at the terminal, much more charming too. It reminds you of all the actors you’ve seen on screen, speaking clearly and with nuance—never faltering. “You seem to be quite lost.”

“Oh, yes, I’m looking for someone,” you found yourself saying, tone turning formal and stiff. He removed his flat cap to push wisps of auburn hair away from his eyes, nodding for you to continue when you paused. “Padmé Amidala, is her name. She’s supposed to be my guide?”

At the mention of Padmé, the kind stranger sighed, hands falling to his hip. “Ah, now I understand why she came over. Did father know?” he murmured under his breath, looking back at the house with a raised brow. “Give me a moment and I’ll fetch her for you.”

You nodded quietly, watching him turn back inside, but not even two steps in, he stopped and turned back around, flashing you an almost sheepish, but albeit charming smile. 

“Pardon, that was a bit rude of me. Would you like to come in and wait for her in the garden?”

You mulled it over—following a stranger into their home was always something you had been advised against since you were a child. It would be completely unwise, wouldn’t it? But he seemed too kind, eyes too innocent and earnest to hurt you. And so, against your usual better judgement, you nodded. “If it’s no trouble?”

“None at all,” he assured you, opening the gate wider, “please come in. I’m Obi Wan, an old friend of Padme’s.”

You gave him your name and he smiled at you, wide and completely beautiful. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Now.

You were only a girl back when you first met, immature and blossoming and he was a young man, all roses and maturity—too much like his father (and yet nothing like him)—it was never going to be the right time for you.

Even now, standing before you—him with his tidy, combed auburn hair, white, stupid shirt that is freshly pressed, and brown slacks and dress shoes that are anything but casual—you feel like that girl all over again. 

“It has been a long time, Obi Wan.” Obi Wan. Obi. Obi. It’s been so long since you’ve said his name aloud that it feels so foreign on your tongue now. “I—I didn’t know you were visiting.”

His eyebrows furrow, deep, cerulean pools gliding away to the white door only a few steps away. His nostrils flare with a breath and turns his gaze back to you, opening his mouth to say something—he doesn’t get the chance. 

“There you are! You said—oh,” It’s Padmé. Beautiful, sweet Padmé looking as lost and confused to see Obi Wan just at the entrance of her driveway, with you. “Obi Wan?”

“Hello, old friend.” His head is slanted towards her now, a soft smile on his face. “It has been some time.” 

Friend. There’s always been that distinction between you and her in his words and actions. She was and is friend or little sister, and you were and have not always been darling—that always something, but never just nothing. 

“Yes, it has,” she says, unable to change her expression, and you don’t blame her. You still can’t believe it either.

Did Anakin know?

“Honey, where is—“

Of course Anakin knows, how could he not know? Look at his stupid face peeking over Padmé’s shoulder like the kriffing embecile he is! Those wide blue eyes don’t fool you, not one bit!

Dinner is quiet for the most part. 

The twins are unsure of the newcomer, even though Padmé and Anakin keep reassuring them that he’s a friend, their godfather (something they are aware of thanks to the pictures of the six of you sitting on the mantle of their fireplace). The twins were only a year old when he returned the first time and around three years old when he left the second time. They have no attachment to the man sitting at the head of the table. 

They absolutely refuse to sit next to him—Obi Wan smiles, but there’s a flash of pain in his eyes at hearing their quiet reluctance and rejection to get to know him—and so, you and Anakin take the seat closest to him and across from one another. Leia by his side and Luke by yours. Padmé takes the other head, smiling placidly, but her brown eyes waver when they meet yours every time.

Utensils scrape against ceramic, Obi Wan occasionally asking questions—how have you been? how’s work? how’s school? did Mr. Ford finally move? Quinlan still touring? Mr. Windu still teaching at the school?

It’s Anakin that mostly answers for all of you, trying to keep dinner as lively as it usually is, but with the kids eating silently by your side and not falling for their dad’s bait, it falls flat.

This dinner was supposed to be full of discussion—who will be joining us? will I need to buy more bread? did the know Qui Gon? does it matter? coffee for how many people, again? But you can’t bring any of them up in fear of how Obi Wan would react, and quite honestly, you think it might be because you don’t know how to react to his presence, yet.

Your heart squeezes in your chest every time you glance at him and find him looking back at you, a longing to reach out and take him into your arms edging ever so slightly forward every time. But there’s also a part of you that wants to keep him at a distance, to not give him the ability to hurt you when he inevitably leaves again. And that latter part of you is probably the reason why you blurt a question you should’ve kept to yourself.

“Why are you back?” Anakin trails off, his voice lowering when yours suddenly cuts through his. Obi Wan’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open slightly and you realize your question comes off more accusatory than you meant it to sound. “I—I mean, it’s just so sudden and—“

“I know,” Obi Wan interrupts, soft; understanding. “I wasn’t sure I should come back,” he admits, remorse floating around his words (whether for having felt that way or because he knows it’ll hurt you, you don’t know) and you quickly face forward, meeting Anakin’s hurt eyes that most likely mirror yours, “but the firm has offered me a promotion and Anakin managed to convince me to test it out.”

You release a shuddering sigh, you had a feeling he knew.

Now it’s Anakin’s turn to quickly look away from you (you can’t help but wonder if he saw the hint of betrayal beginning to bubble in the pit of your stomach), only to be trapped by his lovely wife’s. Once more, he breaks contact and stares down at the plate in front of him instead.

“I’m sorry,” Obi Wan starts after a brief tense silence, “if I had known you weren’t aware I wouldn’t have—“

“We’re glad you’re back, Obi Wan,” Padmé interjects, a soft, lovely smile on her face—always so good with people, “for however long you wish to stay.” Although you know she means it, there’s still some hesitation in her words as her gaze flickers between you and him.

“Yes,” you find yourself saying, somehow managing to keep your voice leveled through it, “we’re glad you’re back.” And just like Padme, you know you mean it too, even if there’s a hint of hesitation in the way your eyes won’t meet Obi Wan’s gaze as you say it, focusing instead on the bridge of his nose.

You think he knows it too with the way his hands resting on the table roll inward, an uncomfortable veil beginning to fester as he keeps quiet, eyes drooping and the corner of his lips pulling down.

“Auntie,” Leia whispers, breaking the tension, from across the table and you hum, turning to face her with a wavering smile, “may I please have your piece of roast if you’re not going to eat it? It’s getting cold.”

You blink, and you’re sure everyone else is just as surprised as you are by her words—it’s such a little Leia thing to say, but at this moment? None of you were expecting it, and so, when you erupt into laughter, the room does too, the shock wearing off.

Leia looks around at the adults and she and Luke share a look before shrugging. She murmurs about roasts and perfectly good meat, and you shake your head as your laughter begins to die down.

“You can have it, honey.”

“Sweet!” Her eyes brighten and she grins, immediately digging into the piece of roast you’ve set on her plate.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Anakin whispers into the quiet space between you; the two of you staring out into the living room from the kitchen, leaning back onto the island.

It doesn’t surprise you that Obi Wan somehow manages to get the twins to warm up to him—Leia on his right and Luke on his left, the scrapbook you gifted them last year filled with Polaroid pictures of constellations opened on Obi Wan’s lap. He’s always been particularly good with kids, a trait he must’ve inherited from Gui Gon, who had an immense patience for teaching little ones how to play the piano and guitar.

Padmé sits with them too, keeping their attention away from you and Anakin and the inevitable arguing that might occur.

“This is Cetus!” you hear Luke point out.

“It’s our favorite ‘cause it’s a sea monster!” Leia informs him giddily, leaning forward to trace the stars to form the shape. “And this is And—Andromeda! It’s our Auntie’s favorite.”

“Is that right? It happens to be my favorite too.” Obi Wan glances over his shoulder, his eyes meeting yours for a split second—and you refuse to unravel the mess of emotions swirling in your stomach from that simple glance—before returning his attention back to the eager children, voice lilting. “Which one is this one?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You cup your cheek, the other holding your elbow to keep it perched—but it does matter. It very much matters that Anakin knew and kept it from you, blindsiding you completely. If you had known—if you had known you wouldn’t have come. You could’ve mentally prepared yourself for his reappearance in your lives. But instead you got punched in the gut. “He’s here now.” 

“I wanted to tell you,” he rushes to admit. “But I—when he told me he would visit—try out that new job, I didn’t think he actually would.” Anakin crosses his arms over his chest, eyes downcast and focused on his crossed ankles. “He’s done this before, you know?”

Your head snaps in his direction—this is the first you’ve ever heard about it.

“Once after your 21st birthday and another after Din and you broke up.” Anakin lets out a frustrated sigh and the hand that had been cupping your cheeks curls into a tight fist. “I wanted to surprise you, so I didn’t tell you. But he always called the night before to say he couldn’t make it. Some surprise, huh?”

“Anakin…” 

“I thought—I don’t know what I thought, to be honest.” He laughed self-deprecatingly and you squeeze his forearm. “I just hoped he would. I’m sorry”

“I’ll get over it, Ani,” you promise him, soft, the hurt and betrayal you felt dissipating like wisps of smoke. “I understand why you didn’t tell me.” He tries to smile at you, but fails. “I’m glad he’s back, really, I meant it when I said it… but—“

“It hurts,” he finishes for you, sympathy and understanding laced in those two words.

“Always.”

“Do you know which one is this one Uncl’Obi?” Leia asks.

“Mama, knows it,” Luke follows.

“Does she? Care to give me a hint?”

“That'd be cheating.” Padmé laughs.

“No cheaters here,” Leia agrees, nodding her head with each word.

“Oh, fine. Let’s see…” Obi Wan chuckles, his hand coming up to his chin to rub the growing stubble, exaggerating his thinking. “Is it… a Bantha?” The kids giggle and shake their heads. “No? Hm. Then… is it… ah! I know—Pegasus?”

“Yes!”

You fight back a smile, pressing your lips together as the twins begin to tell him the story of Pegasus, not telling it correctly, but Obi Wan is enraptured by their animated story telling nonetheless. 

“We have to tell him,” Anakin whispers, breaking the silence, and while he doesn’t reference who has to know and what they have to know, you know exactly what he’s insinuating and you don’t agree.

“No.”

He exasperates your name, hands falling to his side as he fully turns to you. “He deserves—“

“I said no, Anakin,” you spit, breath coming out harshly. His blue eyes widen and they flash with hurt. You close your eyes, steadying your breath and calming your racing heart—cursing yourself. “He doesn’t need to know,” you repeat, softer this time. “He’s not going to stay long enough for it and even if he were, he’ll want nothing to do with it.”

“You do know best.” Anakin’s eyes have always been much more expressive than yours or Padmé’s or even Obi Wan’s—always giving away how he truly feels even though his mouth and the words that come out of it say otherwise.

“That’s—Anakin. That’s not fair. Remember last time we tried telling him when—“

“Satine had just passed away,” Anakin iterates, eyes softening when your eyes begin to well up—you swallow harshly. “It was still so fresh in his mind that he couldn’t think of honoring—“ He sighs, stopping himself from saying Qui Gon’s name. “Maybe now will be different.”

His eyes, as soft as they are, challenge you, refusing to crumble under your glare, they’re asking you to give in, to please, tell him. You shouldn’t give in, for your sake and Obi Wan’s, but the longer he looks at you with those eyes of his, you let out a reluctant sigh. “Okay.” You move away from the kitchen’s island and head towards the archway leading to the living room. “But you tell him. I have to get going.”

“I can do that.” You look back at him and find him smiling at you, thankful and relieved. You return it, albeit weakly, but he appreciates the effort. “We’ll talk about preparations another day, okay?”

You’ll probably have to talk about more than preparations later, but you don’t tell him that; instead, you nod and exit the kitchen.

Padmé, noticing your return, turns to you and studies you carefully. “Everything okay?”

Obi Wan also turns to look at you—the children’s current story falling on deaf ears—but you keep your gaze on Padmé.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you assure her, “but I have to head out.”

The twins hear that and immediately a chorus of “aww” and “why, Auntie?”, “can’t you stay?”, “sleepover!” begin to take over—their words wrestling over one another to be heard and you laugh, crouching down and opening your arms wide for them to run into. They do without hesitation, practically climbing over Obi Wan and Padmé to do so.

“I’m sorry, my little stars, I have to get up early for work tomorrow.” Pulling away from their little arms, you hold your pinkies out for them. “Next time I come over, we’ll have a movie night. Deal?”

“Deal!” They readily agree, hooking their pinkies with yours.

“And you’ll bring Uncle Din and Baby?” Luke whispers, low enough for only you and Leia to hear.

“Promise,” you whisper back.

Shaking their pinkies one last time, you stand up and begin your goodbyes, hugging Padmé tightly.

“Call me when you get home safely, okay?” she says, warmth in her words. 

“I will.” You linger in her arms longer than necessary, your heart beating in your chest harshly and rapidly, hesitant and afraid of saying goodbye to Obi Wan. But you finally pull away, you can’t be rude and leave him hanging. 

“May I… walk you to your car?” Obi Wan asks you, blue eyes wavering ever so slight my when you meet his gaze head on. 

A part of you wants to say no, but an even bigger part of you—the part that completely and utterly missed him—convinces you to agree. “I’d appreciate it.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrow as he hands you your jacket and purse, and you smile at him, telling him it’s all right. It’s really not, you’d rather be able to breath for a moment and then think about Obi Wan later, but it’s too late now.

Obi Wan says something to the family of four as you slip on your jacket—“I’ll be back,” you assume. He grabs his own jacket from the coat rack and zips himself up, following after you as you walk out into the evening’s cold air.

“Did you park very far?” he asks you and you shake your head, walking down the stone path Anakin and Padmé installed earlier this year.

“Just down there.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

It’s a quiet walk, not an uncomfortable one, but you can’t say it’s comfortable either—it just is? Like many things just are. Will it always be like this now?

You hope not, because this quietness is not you and Obi Wan.

“This is it.” You step to the side of the driver, pressing the unlock button once and open the door. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear.” Obi Wan moves to close the door for you, but you don’t move to sit and he just stands there in front of you, holding your door. “I wish you a Goodnight and—and I’m glad I got to see you.”

Goodbye, Obi Wan. The words catch in your throat, your mouth parted, waiting for the words to escape, but you can’t bring yourself to say goodbye—what if this is the last time I see you, again?

“Darling?”

Your eyes find his even in the low lighting of the street—blue eyes shining brighter than the celestial sea. There are permanent lines around his eyes now—little crow feet that weren’t there last time he stood in front of you—and you reach for them with shaky hands and he closes his eyes when your thumb runs over them—gentle and tender, caressing.

He delicately hold your wrists, his thumbs running over your pulse, soothing and all too caring—thump. thUMP. THUmp. steady. familiar. alive.

It’s too much. It’s too much that you can’t help the welling of tears or the way your throat croaks when you call his name. 

Blue eyes re-emerge, red rimmed and devastating and it takes you only a second—a second of bright stars and flashing satellites, and airplanes landing—for you to collide against each other—faces hiding in hair and shoulder—wet words murmured over each other and tangling in vines so deep like the flowers that once grew on a beautiful white fence—hands wrapped tightly around each other.

“I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” “I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you so much.” “Please don’t let go.” “I will never let you go. Never again.”

You stare up at the house, well kept and pristine. The roses, however, are dying, their season soon to be over. But even in their last moments, they cling to their own beauty just for a little while longer.

“Resilient little things,” Qui Gon used to say. “Just like the heart. We tend to forget it’s a delicate thing, prone to hurting and breaking—even wilting, but much stronger than we give it credit.”

With the lingering warmth of Obi Wan’s arms and words encasing you, you turn back around and get in your car, driving away from the place that has been your home for the last few years.

Hopefully, Din will take you in for the night.

next

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x y/n #Obi-wan Kenobi x reader #Obi-wan x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #reader insert

[hey-there-love]

Foolish

Summary: Being the new kid is tough right? Try moving across the world to attend the elite hero course at U.A. Unfortunately, following the path of the straight and narrow is difficult when you have a first ball of death throwing twists in it. Nobody said it was going to be easy. New experiences, new interests, new friends...what could go wrong...right? (It’s all cute at first until the smut shatters it...not right now though ;) )

Chapter 1: Welcome, Y/N

Content warning: adult language, cringy situations

Word Count: 1.6K

You let out a sigh as you stood infront of your new dorm, Heights Alliance. U.A high school was Japan’s best school for up and coming pro hero’s and you were chosen to attend. You never thought you’d see the day where you’d finally walk the halls of the prestigious school.

Being a native from the United States, it had always been your dream to attend U.A ever since you watched a sports festival two years ago, unfortunately you never peaked the interest of anyone with your admissions. That was until an earthquake caused by a villains powerful quirk had changed your life.

Long story short it was a normal day at your respective internship with America’s number 3 pro hero, Hopewing, on patrol. A devastating earthquake began and you single handly rescued civilians from a restaurant that caught on fire with no casualties. The villain was apprehended quickly, but an extensive search and rescue mission was done to recover victims of the earthquake. You didn’t think it was a big deal, you were just doing your job, but news outlets picked up on your heroic act and it spread like wild fire.

Countless offers began to stream in for different agencies and schools all across the country. With multiple letters of recommendation, a distinct offer from your dream school rolled in with a promise to be taught in the central . Even if you hadn’t fantasized about attending U.A, you would have been insane to not take the offer.

So, after finishing out your first year at Elite High School you uprooted, packed up your life, and traveled across the world . Classes started next week and nervous was an understatement. You had anxiety as soon as you touched down in Japan. Things here were different. On top of you being a new student in a foreign country you were living in dorms with your classmates.

You always lived at home with your mother and father , never sharing a space with someone else let alone 20 new people who all shared different quirks and attributes. It was nerve wracking, some were going better than you, who knows what level everyone is on. Your anxiety was making it hard for you to breathe. What if-

“Y/N. Did you hear me?” Mr. Aizawa interjected.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir, I kinda zoned out.” You squeaked. Never in a million years you would have thought that when you were told that your home room teacher was picking you up from the airport and taking you to your dorms that it would be the pro hero Eraser Head. You jaw had hit the floor.

“You know Y/N,” he began, “It’s okay to have anxiety about your situation, but I assure you this is the group of kids to share classes with. They are the best this school has to offer. They can teach you a lot.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

“Come on, let’s go. Iida and Yaoyorozu are waiting to help you settle in.” He said grasping, one of your suitcases. You took a deep breath and followed your home room teacher up the front stairs. As you walked into the doors, you were greeted by two people. One was a tall man with black hair, glasses, and crazy huge calves and the other was lean woman with a luscious black ponytail and the sweetest smile.

“Ah! There you two are! Welcome to U.A! My name is Tenya Iida, Class 2-A representative and this is Vice President Momo Yaoyorozu.” The man in the glasses announced, smiling widely. He spoke rigidly and bowed.

He threw you off at tad bit with the formality. He talked like he was a politician running for office. “Hey, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you both.” You extended your hand awkwardly since you were holding your carry on and a box. He gave you a firm handshake.

Yaoyorozu smiled and shook her head, “Iida, our classmate looks like her hands are full. Take her box big guy.”

“Oh, right! Sorry about that!” Iida took the box and your suitcase from Mr. Aizawa. You were grateful because it was getting a little heavy in your arms.

“Well Y/N, you’re in capable hands with these two. I’ll leave you to it.” Mr. Aizawa turned on his heel to leave. “Come to my office 30 minutes before class on Monday and we’ll go through your schedule and get you a map of campus.” He called over his shoulder.

Just like that Aizawa the security blanket was gone and you were left alone with the two. They seemed nice, so hopefully the rest were the same. “Alrighty let’s head on up.” Yaoyorozu suggested. Your trio approached the elevator. “So, this is Class 2-A’s dormitory. There are 5 floors in total. The first floor are where the common rooms are located. Including the kitchen, study area, and the gym. Floors 2, 3, 4, and 5 are dorms. Our bathrooms are communal pertaining to who lives on each floor.” She explained.

Holy crap, this place was huge to say the least. You were excited to explore everything, especially the gym but that would have to wait until the jet lag wore off.

“I’ll tell you ahead of time Y/N, everyone is excited to meet our new classmate. If you ever get overwhelmed then instruct them to give you some space. They all can be quite a lot sometimes.” Iida warned, pushing his glasses up on his face.

“I’m sure I will be okay! I’m just happy to finally be here.”

Yaoyorozu gave you an award winning grin. “I’m happy for you too. Someone as talented as you belongs at U.A.” You felt a blush creeping on to your neck.

“Please stop, you’re being too kind. I’ve actually researched the both of you. You guys are so amazing and your quirks are insane!” You replied.

“Well, we appreciate it. So, we’ll bring your things up to your room, give you some time to freshen up, and then head down stairs to meet the others in an hour?” Iida said as the elevator reached the 4th floor.

You agreed as you stepped out and had a look around. The floor was in the U shaped. Next to the elevators was the bathrooms and the entrance branched out into two hallways.

“For obvious reasons the boys are on the right hall and the girls are on the left hall. Your neighbors on this side are Uraraka and Ashido, while the boys are Shouji, Kirishima, and Bakugo.” Yaoyorozu said and lead you to the third door down. She unlocked your door and handed you the gold key.

Iida opened the door and allowed you two to walk in before him. You were sure the big grin on your face was visible miles away.

“Now, I know it’s not much right now, but I wouldn’t stress about unpacking just yet. I’m sure you’ll recruit some help after dinner.” Iida said and sat down your things.

“Thanks guys, I’m going to go wash off this traveling and I’ll see you then.” You smiled. Iida bowed and Yaoyorzo waved before exiting. You quickly made your way to the bed and plopped down, absolutely beat. You began to take in your new home. The white bed frame was against the right wall, matching colored desk was placed against the left wall. There was a giant window on the back wall facing your door and in the corner was a small closet with low dresser inside

You looked around at all the boxes wondering if all your things would fit in this room. Maybe a little unpacking wouldn’t hurt. You opened your two suit cases and began hanging up clothes, organizing sleep clothes, undergarments, and socks in the drawers. Once that was done you began to search for your travel sizes hygiene products, making a mental note to go out for the essentials tomorrow.

Once that was located, you decided to pick out an outfit to wear. Since you arrived in sweat pants and an old t-shirt of your moms; you wanted to look semi decent when you met the others. You went for a simple pair of black jeans and your previous alma mater’s sweat shirt.

You grabbed your phone planning to text your parents that you’ve settled in and made your way to the bathroom. You began to type out a message as you neared the threshold.

Not paying attention as you rounded the corner you crashed into something hard...someone hard.

“Oi, pay attention!” He yelled as everything you were carrying flew onto the floor around you.

“Oh shoot, I am so sorry!”

You both simultaneously began to reach down to pick up your things and bumped heads.

“Fuck. Are you a clutz or something?” He growled holding his forehead. The impact caused you to see two pairs of red eyes glaring at you.

“Look, that was definitely my mistake. I apologize.” Your vision began to come back together and you started to get your things. He reached for the jeans and handed them to you.

You both stood up and then you realized how handsome he was. Spiked ash hair covered his head like a crown, crimson eyes, full lips, and a strong jaw line.

Wow...they definitely make them different in this country.

“Tch, you got a staring problem or did you knock something loose, dumbass?”

“My name’s Y/N, not dumbass.” You shot back, annoyed. He stood silently, shaking his head, and began to chuckle. “What’s so funny?” You questioned.

“Um...you’ve got...” was all he said before pulling the black thong with a cherry print from your shoulder and holding it infront of you with one finger.

“Oh my god.” You squealed and ripped it from his hand. He continued to laugh and walked out of the bathroom. You ran straight to the shower and locked the door. You sank to the floor with your hands covering your face.

Great. I’ve been in Japan for an hour and I’ve already embarrassed myself.

#bnha #bnha x reader #mha #my hero academia #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou

[majesticbrownjawn]

The Best Man

Things get complicated when the best man looks like him ⬆️ But probably not complicated in the way you’re thinking.

Oldie from Wattpad. ‼️Chris=Erik‼️ I ain’t feel like going thru and changing his name. Deal with it. I wrote it with Erik in mind though. Enjoy boos❤️

——————————

His hands unashamedly gripped her ass, making her jump in shock.

"We can't do this Chris..." her voice faded out in the most unconvincing way, letting him know she was enjoying the moment as much as he was. When he pressed his lips against hers, she kissed him back, forgetting where she was and focused on his tongue entering her mouth. Ms. Johnson was quickly brought back down to Earth when her phone started vibrating in her hand, reminding her it was almost time for the mother/son dance. Sanai was a stickler for things being on schedule and wanted everything to be perfect for Bryan's big day, which to her meant keeping to the strict time table she mapped out.

She finally broke away from the younger man, staring him down with a frustrated look before disappearing into the large crowd of people to find her pursuer's best friend and the groom--her son.

***

Sanai Johnson was a woman with a plan, well, at least since she had become a mother at the age of 16. She fell in love with her son's father, August, and she thought he felt the same until he disappeared six months into her pregnancy. He was from the other side of the tracks, the "right" side. His parents were wealthy and he had earned a scholarship to a prestigious university a few hours away. When he finally showed up fours years later begging for Sanai to take him back so they could be a family, it was way too little, too late. From the moment he stepped back into their lives, he proved to be a great father to Bryan, and that was all she wanted from him. He on the other hand, had just stopped confessing his love for her just over a year ago before their son's 25th birthday--when he showed up to Bryan's party with a woman who looked just a few years older than the birthday boy himself.

It was funny, after all these years of refusing him, Sanai was actually contemplating giving August another chance and then he shows up with with some young girl. Oh well, she thought. She had bigger fish to fry, like planning the wedding she never got to have. It's not that she couldn't have gotten married in the past or sometime in the future for that matter, she was still in her early 40s, but could easily pass for someone a decade younger. She'd loss count of all the times people mistook her for Bryan's sister. Her buxom figure, glowing skin and beautiful features added to her appeal, but she always fell just shy of being completely confident in her appearance.

Where she lacked confidence in the physical, she made up for it in business and street smarts. While August was doing God knows what those four years in college, she graduated from high school early and started working at a museum. Little did she know she'd fall in love with art history and would later become one of the most sought after and well paid art curators in the country. She got to where she was by working hard and staying focused, which for her didn't leave much room for romance.

The wedding weekend had finally come and the guests had started to arrive at her large estate. She planned a series of events designed to make the large 250 person guest list feel a little smaller. This first event, brunch, was purposely hosted at her home to make everyone feel a little more comfortable mingling and getting to know each other.

"Chris!" Bryan was ecstatic to see his best friend who was more like a big brother to him. He flew across the foyer and embraced Chris, who he hadn't seen in almost three years. The two met when Bryan was in the 7th grade and Chris was in the 10th grade at a basketball camp. Chris was Bryan's counselor and the youngster immediately took to the older boy, following him around and following his lead in almost anything he did, except when Chris moved to China. Ms. Johnson wasn't having that. Both men studied business at the same university and started learning Chinese in high school, continuing through college. After graduating, Chris decided to take a job in Beijing making just under seven figures at a budding tech start-up.

"It's been too long, man." Chris was just as excited to see his friend, but was always more reserved than him, being careful to save his energy for just the right time. He knew this weekend would be full of exciting and possibly emotionally draining moments, so he decided to ease his way in.

"So your mom got it like this now? No wonder she invited the wedding party to stay here. This place is massive." He looked around absolutely impressed with his surroundings.

"I know right? When's the last time you've seen her? Like right after I graduated?"

"Yea--high school, I think. Maybe when you moved into your dorm freshman year."

"Well, she's around here somewhere. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. Let me show you where you'll be staying."

***

Sanai was the kind of woman who always had things under control, but her son's wedding had her out of sorts. She was so hell-bent on everything being perfect that she was stressing about every little detail. She did a self-check about 30 minutes ago, realizing her worries were affecting the time she was having, so she took a couple mimosas to the head to take the edge off.

After settling in, Chris made his way back downstairs and gave himself a tour of the home. Along the way, there was a woman who he couldn't stop looking at from afar as she weaved in and out of the crowd. The red dress she wore was what caught his eye first. Then as he closed in on her, her familiar smile pulled him in, making him wonder if he and Bryan went to college with her because she seemed to know a lot of people here. He approached her from behind, placing his hand on the small of her back and leaned into her, introducing himself.

"Hi, I'm Chris. Do I know you? You look so familiar." When she turned around and he finally got an up close look at her, he immediately knew who she was. "Ms. Johnson?"

She smiled and answered, "In the flesh." Instead of letting her go, he froze, still holding her close as she now faced him.

"Uh, uh--it's good to see you," he finally spoke up, his arm still holding her tight. "You haven't aged a day. You're so...beautiful," he blurted out. It was like he was seeing her for the time. In a way he was, this was his first time seeing her as a man.

"Thank you, Chris. It's good to see you too," she replied blandly, gently patting him on his chest, trying to release herself from his grip. Despite trying to get away from him, Sanai certainly noticed what a handsome man Chris had become. She was on the taller side for a woman, but he easily towered over her at 6'4". His frame was full, with just the right amount of grown man thickness she liked. The rest of brunch Sanai was slightly distracted by Chris, partly because she was so shocked at how much he'd grown up and also because she thought she caught him watching her. It was probably just her imagining things.

That night after dinner at the house with the bridal party, Sanai was cleaning up the living area when she felt a quiet presence enter the space.

"Can I help, Ms. Johnson?"

"Oh, please call me Sanai, you're grown now, Chris."

"Ok. So tell me Sanai, what's your secret?" She looked at him confused. "I meant what I said earlier. You haven't aged. It's incredible. You look incredible." He didn't try to hide the fact that his eyes couldn't stop taking her body in.

She blushed at his comment but tried her best not to act phased by his repeated mention of her looks.

"Well, you certainly have changed."

"I hope that's a good thing," he smirked. "How are you dealing with Bryan getting married? I assume it can't be easy to let go of your only child. And you're single, right? I'm sure you've thought about how lonely it may get, him not being around as much."

"Bryan has been on his own for a while now. I'll manage."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How will you manage, Ms. Johnson?" His tone seemed a bit suggestive, but she figured maybe it was the wine she drank playing tricks on her.

He was, of course being suggestive in the slightest way. His immediate attraction her earlier today threw him off initially, but that wasn't going to happen again this weekend. He decided everything else he'd say and hopefully do to her his weekend would be very deliberate.

"I mean, I'm sure you have needs, right?" He moved closer to her, so close that she had no choice but to look at him As his tilted his head sideways at her seductively.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I think you know exactly what I mean, Sanai." Chris' hand slowly traced up the side of her body, carefully following the curve of her hip upwards, stopping just below her bust. She watched his hand closely, allowing his touch to send a shiver up her spine.

"Your behavior is so inappropriate Chris." She said it so sternly that he momentarily forgot he was a grown ass man now who could pursue her without worrying about getting in 'trouble.'

He lifted his hands in surrender and openly watched her as she nervously cleaned up a few more things before heading upstairs. He noticed the way her breathing picked up when he touched her. The goosebumps on her arms told him she enjoyed his hands on her, despite her calling his actions "inappropriate." Chris laid in the bed that night, thinking about her and trying his best to ignore the nagging feeling of his dick hard-pressed against his shorts. The hornier and unsatisfied he was, he figured, the more persistent he'd be about getting a taste of Ms. Johnson.

***

The following afternoon, the bridal party gathered in the foyer of Sanai's home to learn the tango for the reception. After the instructor paired everyone up, Sanai noticed Chris was missing, but remembered he didn't have a partner because as the best man, it was his job to walk the grandmothers and her down the aisle.

"Looking for me?" She jumped at the sound of his voice.

"No, Chris. Why would I be?" She figured if she acted like she was uninterested in his attention that he'd leave her alone. She had another thing coming though. The more time Chris spent in her presence, the more his desire for her increased. Even if he wasn't able to see straight through her hard-to-get act, it wouldn't have stopped him from doing all he could to get her.

He bent down and bowed, lifting his hand to hers, "May I have this dance?" He grabbed her hand but she quickly yanked it away.

"Come on, don't be like that, Sanai."

"Maybe you should call me Ms. Johnson after all."

"I'll call you whatever you want. Just dance with me. Please." He was a little surprised when she took his hand and stood close to him. He took the lead, already familiar with the sensual dance. His hand rested low on her back and he used it to push her lower half into his. Front to front, Sanai could feel Chris' bulge brushing up against her as they moved across the foyer.

"You know I had a crush on you back in the day right?" He whispered closely to her face.

"Excuse me?" She cackled at his comment but he pulled her closer, feeling like she'd walk away from him at any second.

"Honestly, I wasn't even tryna be Bryan's friend at first when we were kids...I just needed an excuse to be around you," he continued. "You were just so creative and kind. I didn't know a mother could be so damn beautiful." Sanai blushed at his memory of her.

"I used to love to come over so I could see you walk around the house in those baggy t-shirts with no bra. Watching you in them little ass shorts had me on hard every time. I can't tell you how many times I had wet dreams about you, Ms. Johnson."

Sanai could feel Chris' excitement pressing up against her. Wisdom urged her to break away from him, but her body begged her to stay put. It had been so long since she allowed a man to be this close to her. And he just smelled and looked so good.

"Are you serious? Why are you telling me this now?" She shouldn't have asked, but her curiosity and her attraction to him was getting the best of her.

"Because it's the truth...and because I always fantasize about being close to you, just like this." The pair was face to face, their foreheads pressed against the other's. Lucky for them, no one would think anything of it because the tango called for that intimate positioning.

"You always fantasize? Or you used to?" She asked her question while looking him square in the eyes.

"Can I cut in?" Bryan's father looked at Chris suspiciously for a moment before taking Sanai's hand and trying to shake off the notion that his son's best friend was doing what it looked like he was doing—pushing up on Sanai. Their interaction would have looked innocent to the average person, but August recognized game when he saw it. He stayed close to Sanai the rest of the day just in case his suspicions about Chris were correct.

***

Hey, can you come downstairs for a minute please?

The text came in to Sanai's phone after 1 a.m. that night.

Who is this?

Guess 😈

I don't have time for games. Who is this?

It's Chris. I want to apologize.

Sanai made her way downstairs cautiously, as not to wake anyone in the house. When she laid eyes on him, she immediately knew she was in trouble. Chris wore a pair of silk pajama pants that left little for her to imagine about how girthy he was and the way his arms looked in the wife beater he wore was already doing things to her.

"He's Bryan's best friend..." She reminded herself as she approached him.

"Do you always talk to yourself?"

"Don't be cute, Chris."

"I hope I'm cute to you."

"I thought you want to apologize for your behavior?"

"Oh yea, I do." The pair was whispering trying not to wake anyone, especially Bryan. It would be hard to explain why they were down here whispering at this hour. Her home was large enough that no one would have heard them anyway, but that fact eluded them both in the moment. "Is there somewhere we can talk without having to whisper?" he asked.

She looked him over trying to decide if she could trust him being alone with her. He'd been so bold the last few days.

She decided she probably couldn't trust him, but still answered, "Sure, follow me."

***

So there are three, maybe four 🤔completed parts to this miniseries but the series itself isn’t completed. Hopefully posting this here will motivate me to finally finish it (it’s been like two years 🥴) I know y’all are waiting on Delicte part 4. Wrote on it some tonight and plan to have it up in the next week. Thanks for reading🖤

#erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #killmonger x black!reader #erik killmonger fic #michael b jordan

[tiffdawg]

Curriculum Vitae: Prologue

Gif: @javier-pena​

curriculum Vitae: noun cur·ric·u·la vi·tae Latin. the course of one's life.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 1.8k

Rated: M - rating will go up | Warnings: Period-typical sexism, angst, mild language.

Story Summary: After leaving Colombia and retiring from the DEA, Javier Peña steps into a new role as a university professor. A woman with multiple degrees and more books than you can count, you meet Javier as you similarly struggle with the future of your career. Despite your odds, the two of you find something you need in each other during uncertain times.

A/N: So, the idea of Professor Peña has been on my mind lately (is this because I, myself, am pursing a career in academia? who’s to say ) and this multi-chapter, semi-slowburn, enemies/idiots-colleagues-friends-lovers story is the result. Just in case, I wanted to be clear that this story won’t be about a student-teacher dynamic – I went in a totally different direction. This will be a playful, sexy romance full of dreamy images of our favorite DEA agent turned university professor set against the backdrop of Los Angeles of the 1990s. I also want to note that UCLA is about to take some hits in this story, specifically the sociology department, but it’s just for the plot. I’m a UC alumna myself so mad respect any bruins out there! Anyway, I’ve already fallen in love with this story and I’m so excited to share it with you!

Read on AO3

CV Masterlist | My Masterlist

... . ...

Prologue

Checking your reflection in a nearby window, you straightened your blouse and mentally prepared yourself to knock on the imposing door in front of you. Your top was sticking to you in all the wrong places, probably from your nerves as much as the dry heat of August in Los Angeles and you really wished the university would be a bit more forthcoming with the air conditioning. The chair of the sociology department usually opted to pass along information via a memo, phone call, or through the office’s shared secretary, the latter being his preferred method. You knew it wasn’t good when he called you personally to ask for a meeting.

Steeling yourself, you rapped your knuckles against the old wooden door and listened for the brusque enter from your boss.

“Good morning, Dr. Campbell,” you announced politely, “You wanted to speak with me?”

“Ah, yes! Please come in.” He gestured to the overstuffed leather chair across from his wide mahogany desk and you sat yourself on the edge of the seat, crossing your legs at your ankles. His spacious office was lined with rows upon rows of well-read books and shelves stocked with awards and accolades. He was an intimidating man on a good day, but this was torture. You watched attentively as he cleared his throat and shuffled a few loose papers around on his desk before finally looking up at you through the thin wire glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, seemingly intent on drawing out the awkward interaction for as long as possible. “I’m afraid I have some rather sour news for you, miss.”

Gritting your teeth, you ignored his gaffe; whether the man never remembered your proper title or just refused to acknowledge it, you’d never know, although you had your suspicions. At that precise moment, it was the rest of his statement that unnerved you.

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Concerning what, exactly?” you prompted, hoping he would take the bait and get this over with already. He was a man known for being a bit long-winded. 

“Well, your tenure,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “Or lack thereof, pardon my candor.”

… . …

You needed to get off that godforsaken campus.

Hastily unlocking the door to your office, letting it fling open without much concern for the wall behind it, you stomped in with a little less decorum than you usually maintained at work. You threw open your bottom desk drawer and dug out your crossbody purse and large tote, tossing both carelessly onto your desk, and then proceeded to shove a few of the books and notepads strewn about your cramped workspace into your bag. You would work on your lectures for the upcoming quarter at home over the weekend, too upset to stay at the university for a second longer than you absolutely had to.

As you made your exit, the framed degrees you’d proudly hung on your wall caught your eye. You could’ve sworn they were glaring at you, taunting you.

“Useless. All three of you.”

… . …

“You are an exemplary lecturer, instructor, and researcher, and the university is fortunate to have you among our prestigious faculty,” Dr. Campbell droned on, clearly trying to soften the blow.

“However?”

“The department cannot offer you a tenured position at this time.” He rested his forearms on his desk, his bony fingers forming a pointed steeple.

You drew in a deep breath of air and dug your nails into the soft flesh of your palm, sure to leave ugly crescent moons. “I’m not sure I understand, sir,” you ground out. “This is my sixth year as an assistant professor. I was offered this professorship with the understanding that it was a tenure-track position and last year when I was overlooked for tenure, I was well-assured that this year would be different.”

The man across from you sighed again, clearly not enjoying the fact that he had to deal with an angry woman. “I am aware of the situation, lest you forget I was the one who offered you this position in the first place.”

“Then can I ask what’s changed?”

“In all honesty, the matter is out of my hands,” he placated. “This directive is coming from the dean’s office. Beyond our department, the school of social sciences is offering fewer positions this year and diverting funds elsewhere, hopefully, if I may be so bold to suggest, to services beneficial to our rapidly increasing student population.”

It took every ounce of willpower you had not to roll your eyes at his explanation. “And are competent, contented professors not beneficial to our students?”

“Well, the sociology department is being gifted a rather impressive visiting lecturer for the year.”

… . … 

“Beneficial to our students?” Beverly scoffed into her end of the receiver. If there was anyone in the world you could count on to be even angrier for you than yourself, it was her. Not only was she your best friend in Los Angeles – actually, at this point, probably the world – but she worked in student services and understood university politics even better than you did. “God, I can’t believe that pretentious asshole had the gall to say that to you.”

“You’re telling me,” you mumbled, precariously cradling the phone to your ear with a shoulder as you set the timer on your microwave oven. 

“And I’m still shocked that they’re doing this to you again,” she continued, “The department promised you tenure. Literally, promised. I remember you telling me word for word what was said at that meeting last fall.”

“Oh, don’t worry so do I.” You sniffed at a second container of leftovers, making a face when you decided the crispy tofu and Chinese broccoli hadn’t survived a few days in the fridge nearly as well as the veggie curry. “I think I etched that conversation into my brain because some part of me knew this was going to happen.” You resealed the container and moved to throw it away, only making it halfway across your kitchen before the phone cord pulled taut and nearly drugged you backwards. “Shit, hold on.”

You picked up the receiver just as your microwave beeped and you were fairly certain Beverly was laughing at you. She’d been on enough calls where you actually did overextend yourself and drop the phone to know exactly what had happened. 

“So, what are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Sulk, probably.”

“Nah, that doesn’t sound like you,” she challenged. “I’ve worked at that university for nearly a decade and to this day you’re one of the most determined, hard-working, dedicated professors I’ve ever met.”

“Bev-”

“No! Scratch that. One of the most determined, hard-working, dedicated people I’ve ever met anywhere in my entire life.”

You chuckled as you stirred the remnants of your red curry and jasmine rice. “What would I ever do without you?”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” she scolded, “But that’s alright because I’m going to tell you what you’re going to do.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” you quipped.

“I’m going to ignore the sarcasm, this time, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You knew not to argue when she was using her mom voice on you.

“Now, listen carefully. You’re going to throw yourself into your work, as you are so prone to doing, and make this your best year yet. I’m talking professor-of-the-decade worthy.”

“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” you said with a laugh.

“You know what I mean! And I’m not finished so stop interrupting me.” She paused to make sure you were done being cheeky. “You’re going to make this your best goddamn year of teaching, research, mentorship, and whatever else it is you do, and if they don’t offer you tenure at the end of it, you’re going to remember your worth and then go where that’ll be appreciated. UCLA be damned.”

You were quiet for a long moment as you considered your words. They pulled at something hidden inside of you and were simultaneously encouraging and deeply uncomfortable. “I can’t just-”

“You can. You’re free to do whatever you need to do for yourself, and you should. There’s nothing tying you here. No family, no kids, no tenure-track, that’s for sure.” You swallowed around a lump forming in your throat and ran a hand over your face. “You still there, sweetie?”

“Yeah,” you said, switching the receiver to your other ear. “Yeah, and you’re right. I know you’re right.” 

“Of course I am.” You could practically see the grin on her face. “If they don’t have the money to make you an associate professor, at the very least, then you should go somewhere that will.”

“That’s the best part. I’m pretty sure they do. The department is bringing in a new visiting lecturer so you can’t tell me they don’t have some discretionary funds.” 

“Really? Who?”

You moaned. “One of the guys who brought down Pablo Escobar. It’s a fucking publicity stunt.”

“Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse.” There was a crash on the other end of the line followed by an ear-piercing shriek. “I’m really sorry babe, but I gotta go. Henry’s going to be home soon and I’m making dinner and the baby’s crying and I think the other two are trying to kill each other. Again.”

“Oh, no. Go take care of your family. I’m sorry I called – I didn’t realize how late it was.” 

“No, I’m so glad you did. I was worried when you didn’t show up at our usual spot for lunch today. Anyway, I’m sure this will all work out in the end somehow. I’ll see you Monday.”

You hung up the landline, silencing the dial tone. You scanned your empty apartment, your eyes dancing between the random stacks of books, your cluttered dual-purpose kitchen table/worktop, and your makeshift bedroom partially partitioned from the rest of the studio. You exhaled and skewered a few rapidly cooling vegetables onto your fork as you thought over Beverly’s words. Your whole life fit inside these four walls. There wasn’t anything tying you down besides your hope that your hard work would finally be rewarded. While that should’ve been reassuring, it just tore at your already broken heart.

This couldn’t be all there was for you.

Something had to change.

 A spunky bark pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. “Is it dinner time for you too, Sunny?”

A second bark and a wagging tail confirmed your suspicion.

Well, at least you weren’t entirely on your own.

... . ...

Thanks for reading! 💕

... . ...

Tag List: @leo-moon​ @readsalot73​

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #my fic #my writing #fic: curriculum vitae

[qwirk]

*vigilantes ch. ~64 and main manga ch. ~255 spoilers*

although idk if these are really spoilers if these chapters came out a couple years ago! anime-only fans beware. anyway here’s my extremely long rant about the obvious, not trying to explain anything- i gotta yell!

so that vigilantes arc destroyed me! i’m not good at immediately putting thoughts about media into coherent points but i’m just so sad :( first of all after catching up with the main manga, shirakumo, despite being technically dead during his introduction, rocketed up to one of my favorite if not my favorite character. aizawa is also up there for me- he was first introduced as this strict teacher who seemed to psychologically torment his students for the fun of it, or at least for some yet unknown ulterior motive. but we now know that, while still kinda harsh, he does this to give his students that lead-dropping-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach rush in order to push them to succeed (or something like that?). he truly cares about his students and their growth which has been demonstrated multiple clear times. but what drives him to be like this??

shirakumo!! his actions today are a clear answer to the pushes shirakumo gave him back when they were students. they’re so obviously influenced by shirakumo that they’re almost literally answers. the main chapters are a little foggy because i speedread them at 3 am, but i just caught up with vigilantes. 

at the start, aizawa sees himself as someone who’s constantly just behind and will stay there as everyone moves on. he trudges into class drenched after leaving the kitten behind and he’s super emo about it. meanwhile, shirakumo literally flies through the window, also drenched, saved not only the kitten but aizawa’s umbrella, and manages to put on this cheery (albeit borderline explicit) show about it. it’s a CLEAR contrast between the two and aizawa goes as far to say that he hasn’t reached his “true self yet” while he looks at shirakumo and then says that he starts to change. 

as if it’s not enough for aizawa to beat himself up mentally, his classmates bring him down for not having a “heroic” enough quirk. shirakumo is constantly stepping in to bring him back up, even during real work study stuff, and goes as far to lend him a pair of his goggles so that his eyes become more useful. this becomes a stronger bonding point between aizawa, shirakumo, and hizaishi for them to start looking to the future together. while wearing those goggles, which are protecting his sight from the strong winds on the roof, he stares into the sky, feeling like he’s getting swept into the future like the clouds in the wind. (also the clouds as a metaphor. damn)

and then we come to the last fight. everyone that aizawa looks up to is crushed in the wake of the villain, and he’s the last one standing. there’s a group of children to protect, and he’s panicking and drowning in his overthinking. the way he’s given a huge panel to himself only to be visually overwhelmed by his thought bubbles stood out to me. and then the thing that snaps him out is shirakumo’s voice cheering him on. it’s a bunch of simple praise, but it means everything in the situation. the friend who’s been pulling him up no matter how hopeless or apathetic aizawa feels is of course the one to spur him into action in a life-or-death situation. aizawa realizes he’s gotta fight immediately, and even reminds himself of exactly what shirakumo told him- that his quirk IS useful and levels the playing field. 

i was already kinda spoiled for this part since i read the main manga first, but hearing shirakumo’s cheering the entire time while aizawa is absolutely toiling to defeat this huge villain would have been touching regardless. and when he lands in triumph, hurting but victorious, he screams for his friend to hear that he did it!! but then you see this joy start to like. rot away as soon as it pans to kayama and hizaishi. it’s raining again (THE CLOUDS AS A METAPHOR! DAMN!). shirakumo’s corpse is lying feet away from him, staining the medics’ sheet with blood. i don’t have much to say about this part, it was just a lot for me to process!! also i’m still not entirely sure about the way his speaker works so i might be wrong here, but did he really spend his dying moments with a traumatic head injury cheering on his friend to not only beat the immediate danger, but to self-realization?? or maybe it was prerecorded? idk but either way, truly a hero. 

aizawa and hizaishi are left standing in the rain because once again, “it fits the mood.” so obviously there’s the callback to when aizawa first said that when he comes to class after leaving the kitten and i have yet to fully comprehend it because i have no braincells for interpreting media. i guess maybe it’s like- aizawa at first felt terrible for not being able to save even a kitten while being enrolled in the most prestigious hero course in the country. getting drenched while settling with (what he considers to be) a cowardly measure is the icing to the cake for his self-hatred. it’s the classic “this might as well happen” scenario to get soaked by random rain or a car splashing you with a puddle on a bad morning. rain is sad. but in comes shirakumo, equally drenched but still the bright light that he is. he’s also done everything aizawa couldn’t but wanted to and more in this situation. he could do it not just because of his storing quirk, but because he held the life of someone who needed saving more important than the school rules. this decorum lets the kitten slide as it makes itself at home in the classroom. the rain stops soon after. but then you have shirakumo’s death. once again, aizawa, and even hizaishi, who’s usually always upbeat (almost every panel of him was just him screaming YEAHHHHH. plz give him more dialogue) both agree that the pouring rain fits the mood. this also brings us back to the present that preceded the flashback- koichi just rescued a cat and a child from a villain with aizawa’s help, and now they’re standing under an awning to escape the rain. this situation is literally almost exactly what happened at the beginning of the flashback which is why i guess it brought it on, but it’s interesting to see what changed- aizawa is the one who’s learned from this situation and teaching the student the meaning of responsibility (using an abandoned cat as an example, no less), and they’re all properly shielded from the elements this time. i guess the conclusion (that could be totally wrong) i’m coming to is that the rain sort of represents the adversaries aizawa faces in life- his self-deprecation, those that don’t believe in him, his personal failures that he has been facing lately. shirakumo has always been there to guide him past it, and once he lifts up aizawa nothing can shake him again. but now that he’s definitively gone, it’s back to haunt him for this one last moment of sheer grief. it’s only this one moment though, as aizawa clearly uses this moment to move on and better himself not just for his sake, but for everyone counting on him. he’s escaped the rain.

it’s so clear how this manifests in the main manga and i’m so happy vigilantes was able to spin out such a good backstory and explanation for his actions!! one of the most immediate ways we see his ideals stand out is his taking in of shinsou as his apprentice from general studies. it’s absolutely because he sees himself in this boy. he has a quirk that’s seemingly useless once you get into combat and everyone thinks he’s a creep for it. more people might even wary around shinsou than aizawa’s case. during the a vs. b practice fights, shinsou explains what he did wrong, clearly upset at himself for not doing enough. aizawa immediately pulls himself up, reminding him that in order to achieve what he just said, he’d have to be a pro, and that what he managed was more than enough. these parallels between aizawa and shinsou are definitely hinted at in the main story, like when midoriya underestimate’s his prowess in combat at usj, but with the vigilantes arc everything is so much clearer. in the main manga, we get a direct reference of aizawa’s expulsion rate in relation to how it helps students grow when they face “’death’” as he’s interrogating kurogiri. though dramatic, i feel like it has to be linked to the dire situation aizawa faced when the pro heros and shirakumo got knocked out during that one fight because of its placement in the chapter. he understands better than most in the story that a lot of times pushes, whether big or small, are needed to grow. he wants to be to his students what shirakumo was to him.

OK EDIT because i didn’t realize there was more to the arc after 64 lol. so obviously after shirakumo dies aizawa’s and hizaishi’s dreams of starting a triple hero agency have been dashed. aizawa seems to distance himself from hizaishi, or at least they’re on uneasy speaking terms. he’s coping by training super hard and is bent on going solo after graduation, the opposite of what they had all planned. but this time, he has conviction on what he’s going to do with himself, and that’s great! he learns that you have to be there for yourself in life. there’s a small montage leading from graduation to where is now in vigilantes and it’s been hard, but he’s been making it. still a lone wolf as ever, aside from the pushes from kayama to become teachers with her and hizaishi at ua. he thinks doing that would be a stupid choice for him, he’s been alone this whole time and doesn’t work well with others (anymore, he thinks). but now that he’s in the cafe with everyone, he changes seeing everyone fawn over the cat but their new dreams of being a popular cat cafe. 

the impact of seeing their newfound hope brings him back to another flashback of the rooftop trio, and THE PARALLELS!!! of them also dreaming to start their hero agency based on their first rescue of sushi the cat. back in the present, aizawa, who’s been spacing off, suddenly realizes the sky and his mind have cleared (THE CLOUDS KEEP COMING BACK AS A METAPHOR!!! if this happens in the main story i’ll cry). i’m still not 100% sure of what exactly makes the dots connect for him, but it’s been hinted through the flashbacks and his reactions to the rescued cat that he’s actually a good teacher himself, though he had been mainly shown to have learned from others around him. he drilled husbandry requirements into shirakumo and interrogated koichi about responsibility as if they were second nature. i think aizawa realized that he’s actually always had a soft spot for watching people grow and do good things and wants to be a part of facilitating that. or at least because he wasn’t able to accomplish doing good with his friends originally, he wants to help other accomplish the goal he couldn’t. also the fact that kayama still sends him updates on sushi isn’t just really nice of her, but it’s also another representation of how aizawa’s convictions he developed as a student still drive him to do what he does today.

MY MAIN POINT IS: aizawa really loves shirakumo. to have so much of his character based in the lessons he purposefully or inadvertently taught him is an amazing testament to that appreciation. aizawa never emotes except for the occasional creepy smile when he psychologically toys with 1a, but the emotion he displayed during the interrogation really caught me by surprise. the apathetic emo character suddenly being truly happy or sad is a cliche but this panel right fucking here was so powerful to me:

yeah his eyes are always bloodshot as a trademark to his quirk, but the emotional EXHAUSTION written on his face is so starkly different than his usual boredom. this feeling that horikoshi illustrates in two small panels is so human that it’s instantly recognizable deep in our hearts. we’ve all been in those heavy and direly serious moments that wrack our mental and emotional fortitudes, where the only response manageable without hideously breaking down is some subtle motion of the hand or crinkle of the face. we all know what this means without understanding the japanese onomatopoeia or needing additional dialogue. before i read vigilantes, i still immediately understood what this man meant to aizawa. and that’s why i love shirakumo so much!! we all know at least a little how aizawa used to feel as a student, and to have someone constantly pushing you and acting as such a light in your moments of darkness is something so incredibly special. i really hope they’re able to get him out of his nomu state so those three can finally become heros together :’)

god!!!!!!!!!!

#bnha #mha #bnha vigilantes #mha vigilantes #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #oboro shirakumo #loud cloud #phew i haven't written something like this in YEARS #mod

[tsrookie]

Illicit Affairs

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Alyssa Brooks)

A/N: Hey everyone! So this is my first time writing a fic and... I’m pretty nervous😅 Massive thanks to @kaavyaethanramsey and @ohramsey for pre-reading this fic. Thanks so much for your support you guys!

Song Inspiration: Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 2463, so yeah, I went a lil overboard😬

Warnings: One curse word. Pretty tame besides that.

Summary: My version of what might’ve went on in MC’s head after the kiss in Chapter 8. And uh, excuse the Taylor Swift references😁

——————————————

Make sure nobody sees you leave

Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Tell your friends you’re out for a run

You’ll be flushed when you return

She watched the lights of Boston city pass in a blur as her head reeled from what had just happened. Ethan Ramsey had kissed her. Not the other way around like it had been for a very long time. She was still flushed from the encounter and had no idea what to make of it.

She got out of the cab and walked to her apartment in a haze. “God I hope no one’s still awake.”, she thought to herself as she was about to open the door. But as fate would have it, Jackie was curled up on the couch with her phone. “Where on earth have you been?”, she asked, as Alyssa’s mind struggled to give a proper answer. She’d told Sienna about her whereabouts and had hoped that she would’ve given the others an explanation. “Just went for a walk. Needed to clear my head after that match.”, she finally said. Jackie skeptically raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t ask anything else. She was grateful for that, as she had enough on her mind already.

Take the road less traveled by

Tell yourself you can always stop

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots

She flopped down on her bed as her heart raced. “Why? Of all the 7 billion people on the planet I could’ve fallen for, why did it have to be my boss? Anyone, just about anyone else would’ve been great.” She hated herself for this reason ever since they first kissed in Miami. Her heart always aspired to rise higher, but the more she had to lose along with it. Be it in her career, or a relationship.

She knew that it would be hard for her family to see her leave for Boston, since her brother had also left a couple of years ago to London and could barely get enough time to make a call once in three months. She didn’t blame him though, he was her big brother and she loved him no matter what. But it broke her heart to see the looks on her parents’ faces when they found out that she was going to leave Cedar Cove too. They’d always been a tight-knit family and her parents had hoped that she would find a good job somewhere close by. But getting matched to Edenbrook was her dream come true and they didn’t want her to give up on it as they’d supported her from the moment she’d decided that she wanted to become a doctor.

She didn’t want to lose them. She was scared that she wouldn’t be able to stay in touch with them if she left, but thankfully, she managed to squeeze in some time every weekend to make a FaceTime call.

Then came Ethan Ramsey. Her medical hero, her inspiration for becoming a doctor, the reason she applied to Edenbrook. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that she would spend the second year of her residency working under him in one of the most prestigious diagnostics teams in the country, and possibly, even the world.

But ever since she first saw him for just Ethan, and not the world famous Dr. Ramsey, her heart longed to fill that missing void in him. She saw past his name and saw him with all his flaws and imperfections. The real Ethan Ramsey was nothing like the man she’d idolized throughout med school. He was an utter mess. But he was the mess that she wanted. She could’ve let go and focused only on her life anytime she wished. But she didn’t. The path of dating a superior was always avoided and forbidden, but she didn’t care. She wanted to be there for him, whether he liked it or not.

And that’s the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and longing stares

It’s born from just one single glance

But it dies and it dies and it dies

A million little times

Her mind wandered back to the night Ethan returned from the Amazon.

One look into his ocean-blue eyes and she was a goner. Two months of trying to bury her feelings, all wasted in one moment. And she knew he felt the same way too.

She’d mentally cursed herself for staying past last call with him as she walked with him into the beer garden. She knew that he’d missed her like hell from the longing glance he’d given her when she had run her fingers through his new beard. “I know I’m getting rejected, so why the fuck am I trying to have a conversation with him?!”, she’d reprimanded herself while she tried to get him to say why he hadn’t stayed in touch with her for two whole months. “How am I supposed to push you to be everything you can be if I...” Those words broke her heart all over again. He’d trailed off like this in the exact same way back in Miami. Her heart shattered for the millionth time since that first kiss, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She put on a brave face as she walked away from him, having no idea how she was supposed to ever look at him again without longing and pain evident in her eyes.

Leave the perfume on the shelf

That you picked out just for him

So you leave no trace behind

Like you don’t even exist

The day after the board had decided to solicit high-profile patients was one of the worst days of her life. He hadn’t said a single word to her since he came out of the boardroom. She was consumed by guilt. Not because she’d found a way to save the team and the hospital, but the fact that she had hurt Ethan and broken his trust in her in the process.

The next few days were hard. June and Baz were being as supportive of her as they could, but even they just barely skirted around Ethan, as no one wanted to face his wrath. He was an absolute monster to the poor interns, and she felt terrible knowing that it was all because of her. Sothy in particular, had only asked Ethan as to whether he had seen Dr. Rosario, and was chewed out in the atrium in front of everybody for it. Needless to say, Elijah was pretty upset for the rest of the day and it took a lot of convincing to get him to go on his planned date with Phoebe that evening. Alyssa felt horrible that everyone around her had to suffer Ethan’s harsh behaviour ten times fold because of her.

She had to, quite literally, run out of the office once a team meeting got over so that she didn’t have to be alone with him. And she only did her paperwork at home and in the doctors lounge, since she didn’t want to hurt him by leaving any traces of her work in his office. Ethan pretended as though they were never something special. He never treated her in any way less than any of his other colleagues, but his blue eyes that once filled her with warmth, now reserved a coldness that was meant just for her. Quite a few days passed with him not even acknowledging her. She felt like she didn’t even truly exist to him anymore.

Take the words for what they are

A dwindling, mercurial high

A drug that only worked

The first few hundred times

Leland Bloom’s case was something she personally loathed. Ethan had almost reverted back to his normal self when this case was assigned to the team. Then it was back to square one. But she wasn’t afraid of facing him anymore. The look of his face when she called him out for being a spoiled child would forever be etched in her mind. She was proud of herself for it, and deep down she knew that he was too.

His mood constantly changed whenever the team discussed Leland’s case. But he at least didn’t look at her like a criminal anymore, and that lightened her heart a little.

She would be forever grateful for Leland’s work ethic though, as it finally gave her a chance to openly talk to Ethan on the yacht, a task they’d both been avoiding for weeks. He’d tried to maintain an indifferent facade, but of course she’d made sure that he miserably failed. When he’d told her that she made it incredibly difficult to stay focused, she had almost laughed out loud in joy. That was a clear indicator that his walls were coming down, and that they were back to their old banter. He had made hundreds of reasons and excuses to push her away in the past, and he was slowly running out of them. “You can only run away so many times Ethan.”, she’d thought to herself as she looked at him fondly, glad that he wasn’t angry at her anymore.

And that’s the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and stolen stares

They show their truth one single time

But they lie and they lie and they lie

A million little times

Her mind came back to the present as she remembered the kiss they’d shared a few hours ago. The kiss he’d initiated. A few weeks ago if someone had told her that this would happen, she would’ve probably told them to go for a mental health checkup. But it had actually happened. “Ethan Ramsey took the initiative to kiss me.” She let those words finally sink in.

She was supposed to be ecstatic. She was supposed to be jumping like a maniac in her room. “So why am I not?”, she thought to herself.

The answer was simple: she was scared. Scared of being pushed away again. Scared of Ethan lying to himself and to her by saying that it didn’t mean anything.

She was done with the whole “stolen stares” and “painful glances” thing. They’d both shown their true feelings tonight, and she was not going to go back to the start again. “I only hope that he feels the same way and doesn’t run again.”, she sighed as she thought back to her first day at Edenbrook...

And you wanna scream

Don’t call me “kid,” don’t call me “baby”

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

You showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else

“You. Rookie. Get in here.” Those were the first words he’d ever spoken to her. She was feeling a little insulted at being called a rookie at that moment. She never thought she would miss that nickname so terribly ever since her second year started. Sure, it was undermining her in the beginning, but she knew that it became a term of endearment for both of them as time passed.

She’d realized how much it actually meant to her the night she visited his apartment after her suspension. She knew that he was trying to being distant as soon as he called her ‘Brooks’.

There were plenty of guys who had hit on her in the past. Heck, Bryce and Rafael had pretty obvious crushes on her too back in her intern year. But none of that mattered to her after Miami. She just couldn’t look into anyone else’s eyes other than Ethan’s clear blue. Those eyes made her feel like she was flying miles above the ground. They made her feel like she was at home. Sure, to everyone else, those eyes would only show harshness. But ever since she’d gone with him to follow his mother, she’d seen nothing but an uncharacteristic tender look in his eyes that he had last given her when she’d won her ethics hearing. She definitely wasn’t complaining about it.

Don’t call me “kid,” don’t call me “baby”

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else

Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled the day she’d found out that Ethan had left, or rather, fled, to the Amazon forest. She was beside herself, sick with worry in hopes that he would be alright, and hurt beyond measure that he didn’t even bother to say goodbye.

She’d felt like an absolute fool. An idiot, who believed that they would be alright, as long as they just focused on their patients. She was broken, to find out that he had taken such an extreme measure to put distance between them.

“I am so so sorry Alyssa. I told him not to go, but he was very insistent.”, Naveen had tried to console her when she had marched up to his office as soon as the announcement of Ethan’s departure had been made in the atrium. She didn’t blame Naveen though. Ethan was as stubborn as a mule, and there was nothing that could’ve been changed even if she had known beforehand about his decision.

Sienna had tried, in vain, to set her up with some cute guys, but her heart just said no to every single one of them. Whenever she tried to give them a chance, her heart just kept telling her, “He isn’t Ethan.” No one could ever have even a small part of her heart since it completely belonged to him.

And you know damn well

For you, I would ruin myself

A million little times

Her heart hurt worse than ever. But surprisingly, she liked the pain. She wasn’t the kind of person who liked an easy answer. That was why she admired Ethan. He loved the challenges of being a doctor. He loved the puzzle. And so did she.

She pondered over her thoughts as a query struck her mind: “Do I love him?” She always knew that her feelings for him were strong and something special. But she’d never thought of the L-word before.

She thought about why she came to Edenbrook. She wanted to become the best doctor she could be. She wanted to make a difference for the people who had nowhere to go. But now, she was stuck in a situation where she was willing to risk it all for her boss. “I think I do love him...”, she thought. “No, I know I love him. He’s worth the risk. I’m not going to ruin my career by being with him. I will fight for this. For us.”, she said to herself with a determined mindset. She loved Ethan Ramsey with all her heart, and she was not gonna lose him no matter what. As exhaustion finally overtook her, she closed her eyes with the knowledge of her promise. She was going to fight for them, she definitely was.

———————————

Hope you guys liked it!😊 Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist. And any constructive criticism is much appreciated! I have an idea of making this into a series, so do let me know if you wanna see more song-inspired fics🎶

Taglist: @kaavyaethanramsey @ohramsey @aylamwrites @caseyvalentineramsey @starrystarrytrouble @dxnicaramsey @decadentwinnerjudgedream @nithya @mrsmatsuo @choicesolivia @rookiefromedenbrook

#ethan ramsey #dr ethan ramsey x mc #ethan jonah ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #ethan x mc #dr ethan jonah ramsey #open heart second year #mercy writes